Wonton wrappers, wonton wrappers, what shall I do with the rest of you?  I am quite certain I’m not alone in this predicament; those packets the size of my pinkie seem to yield a bottomless supply of paper-thin panes and a girl can only eat so many wonton crisps with her Ahi Poke.  As is regularly the case with my culinary creations, I decided to adopt a fused approach.  Wontons are from China, so let’s go with Italian pastry cream infused with Cardamom- primarily an Indian spice (I realize this is debatable).  Throw in some chocolate from Belize and the Dominican Republic packaged by a UK company and you’ve got your next United Nations Convention dessert settled.  Top it all off with Mexican dulce de leche made from goat’s milk called cajeta and garnish the plate with kiwi berries grown in Oregon (of all the places to miniaturize a kiwi!) and you’ve got a dessert that can take you around the world for a lot less than the cost of the plane ticket. 

The miracle here is that this global mélange married so well on the plate and in the gullet.  It’s a testament to the budding Northwesterner in me (from California originally with significant stops in Idaho and Italy along the way) that I’ve begun to adopt the “fusion” approach to cuisine.  Don’t expect to see me donning Northface parka’s and hiking boots any time soon, however; I’m perfectly happy in my Burberry trench and snakeskin Louboutin’s for the time being.   In the kitchen I think it’s more than ok to succumb to the region in which you are living, in fact it’s vital if you want to cook with fresh, seasonal ingredients.  That’s why I picked up the crazy kiwi berries grown in Oregon at the Nine Star Ranch and I was very happy I did since I’ve learned they are pretty much only available in September and October.  If you were making this dish in Texas for example, you might substitute a small mild pepper for the kiwi goodness on the plate- both regionally- appropriate and great as a foil against the chocolate. 

The cardamom-infused crema pasticcera was borne from a weekly experience I had during the few years we lived in Torino, Italy.  All of the amazing pasta, truffles, cheeses and cured meats were irresistibly inspiring and delicious, but about once a week I needed a change.  Jonas and I happened upon Karmacola one particularly frustrating evening.  I think we had set out to do something simple like make change from a 20 euro bill and we systematically went to every UniCredit Banca in all of Torino (passing about 10 prostitutes and an equal number of nuns on the way) only to find that the entire city was apparently totally out of change. 

These minor inconveniences were maddening at the time, of course now I’d take them any day over the orderly homogeny that can be Seattle.  Anyway, famished from our foiled search, we happened upon an Indian restaurant adjacent to the Dora River, not far from the Mole Antonelliana.   We decided to give it a go, and long story short, the proprietors became some of the best friends we made in Italy and the food transported us just enough outside Italy that it was safely different but not as appalling as a McDonald’s hamburger might have been.  They made Indian food with the highly selective Italian palate in mind- something I have not been able to find in Seattle.  Every once in a while there would be a hybrid item on their menu like semifreddo but with Chai spices, and those were always worth trying.  I’ve been ruminating on cardamom lately and I thought a pastry cream would be a perfect showcase since I had to boil down milk anyway- why not throw in some cardamom pods? Without saying much more, I must state that this pastry cream will be a frequent member of my kitchen hereto forth. 

Rather than make straight up dulce de leche for the caramel, I decided to go 50/50 cow milk and goat’s milk which makes it more of a cajeta instead- aka Mexican caramel.  Last week I made it with straight goat’s milk, but this time I cut it with the cow’s milk because I had raw milk on hand and that is something I never let go to waste.  I was very pleased with the result and will be making my cajeta in this fashion from now on. 

The recipes you’ll need to assemble this dish follow, but I will outline the technique here.  Melt half a Green and Black’s chocolate bar in a double boiler over low heat.  Using an egg wash and a pastry brush, brush all edges of the wonton wrapper and seal closed two sides in a rectangular shape.  You will be left with a pocket, of which the top edge is still opened.  Dollop a bit of chocolate and a bit of crema pasticcera inside the pocket.  Fold the top of the rectangular by pinching two sides closed in a “T” pattern (you can see by the illustrations what I mean).  Make sure your wrappers are totally closed as when you fry them if there is an opening at all the insides will come gushing out. 

Fry the wontons for about 15 seconds each in a pot of oil deep enough to contain them. Use a thermometer to ensure that your oil remains between 350-370°.  Drizzle them with the cajeta and garnish the plate with kiwi berries. 

What you will need for roughly 24 wontons:

 (assuming 3 per person this serves 8)

• ½ bar of Green and Black’s chocolate or bittersweet melting chocolate of your choice
• Cardamom-Infused Crema Pasticerra (recipe follows)
• Cajeta according to this recipe- I half it and use 50/50 cow and goat’s milk. I also omit the cinnamon
• A package of kiwi berries sliced in half

Cardamom-Infused Crema Pasticcera

• 500 ml raw whole milk
• 2 tbsp cardamom pods
• 6 egg yolks
• 6 tbsp flour
• ¾ c sugar
• Salt

1.  Set the all but 1/3 c of the milk over a low flame (preferably using a round-bottomed copper pot).  Put the cardamom pods into a tea strainer and immerse them into the milk.  The goal is to infuse the cardamom flavor into the milk without bringing it to the boiling point. I generally infuse my milk for about 15-20 minutes, this is subjective based on how much cardamom flavor you want in the end, so taste the milk as it infuses and pull the cardamom once you think there is enough flavor.
2. Meanwhile, crack the egg yolks into a bowl and whir a couple times with the immersion blender.  Add the milk, flour, sugar and salt and blend with the wand for about 10 seconds or until consistency is uniform and no lumps remain. 
3. Once you have removed the cardamom pods from the milk, bring it just to the point of barely boiling, remove from heat, and pour in a slow steady stream into the egg yolk mixture while blending with the immersion blender.  Once all the hot milk is added, give it a few good blends, then pour back into the copper pot and return to heat over a low flame.  At this point, stir constantly until the cream thickens- in my kitchen over my low gas flame, it typically takes about two minutes, but this will vary from stove to stove, so stir, watch, and remove from flame once the crema has thickened to the consistency of syrup. 

I woke up with an odd hankering for goat milk the other day and I couldn’t figure out why.  I think it was a remnant of a dream I couldn’t quite hang onto in my morning haze, because truth be told, I’m not actually a huge fan of goat milk.  I love goat cheese till there’s no tomorrow, but I’ve never been a straight chugger of the milk itself.  This is in direct contrast to my 14 month old; I’m pretty sure when everyone else is doing keg stands and beer bongs in college he will be pouring ice cold goat milk through a funnel and down his gullet to prove his mettle (at least that’s my hope, given his propensity for it now).  In any case, I couldn’t shake the urge to tickle my tonsils with something of the goat variety, so I started thinking long and hard about how I could dress it up so it wouldn’t be quite so, well, goaty.  Yes, I know the whole lipstick on a Palin adage, and it’s not that I wanted to mask the nature of the goat- just enhance it somehow. 

That’s when it hit me- CAJETA! For those of you unlucky enough to be unfamiliar with this ooh la la substance- it’s basically dulce de leche made with goat’s milk instead of cow milk.  The goat taste imparts more complexity on the flavor, so rather than being sweet and cloying (as I sometimes find dulce de leche), it adds a layer of depth to the caramel, kind of like the difference between a tawny and a ruby port.  I absolutely love to make cajeta because of the mouthwatering odor it bestows on the entire kitchen as its reducing- make it once and you won’t soon return to your dulce de leche ways. 

The cajeta recipe I link to below makes a healthy portion with which you can do many things.  It keeps for several weeks sealed in the refrigerator, but neighbors go wobbly in the knees when you drop off a little tin of the liquid bronze on the doorstep for their own discretionary use.  I have been meaning to do an offshoot of a David Lebovitz-inspired recipe for quite some time now, and my freshly made cajeta gave me just the excuse.  When I think of caramel of any kind, goat milk included, I naturally think of peanuts, salt and chocolate.  I think it stems from a banana split-centric childhood or something, only as an adult I’m even worse since I leave the banana out entirely!  Anyway, Lebovitz uses caramel in little baking cups with chocolate and peanuts, so I decided to adapt the recipe for cajeta instead.  I like to start with raw peanuts and roast them myself with salt and a touch of butter since canned peanuts spoil quickly and freshness is key in desserts so small you can pop the whole thing into your mouth at once.  That way I can salt them with a salt of my choosing and be as liberal about it as I see fit.  A word of warning- these little cups will not survive the night in your kitchen- somehow there are little elves that make their way to the tray when you’re not looking, and, before you know it they’ve disappeared hook line and sinker.  For that reason, you’d be wise to eat them while their fresh, lest someone else beat you to it!

Update: I have made these little goody cups about six times since I originally wrote this post since everyone keeps clamoring for a taste of them. Word travels fast in my neighborhood and social circle, and everyone seems to want to get their hands on these puppies.  Consequently I’ve been making a TON of cajeta.  At first I made it with straight goat’s milk, but some folks found it a little too strong, so now I’m making it using 50% goat’s milk and 50% raw cow’s milk.  The mixture to me is ideal, and apparently to others as well- I caught my neighbor in the kitchen behind my back with a wooden spoon digging straight into my container of caramel taking giant bites of the stuff.  He looked just like Little Crissy in Pecker with sweet goodness running down his face and a glazed-over look of utter peace. 

Chocolate-Drenched Salted Peanut Cajeta Cups

Makes roughly 20 cups

For the filling:

• ½ c cajeta
• ½ c raw Spanish peanuts
• 1 tbsp butter
• 1 tsp sea salt

For the cups:

• 20 (possibly more) small paper baking cups
• 6 oz semisweet chocolate (such as Callebaut)
• 6 oz bittersweet chocolate (such as Valrhona)
• Finishing salts of your choice (I used Tahitian Vanilla salt, Murray River pink salt and sea salt that I made from the Pacific Ocean)

1.  Roast the peanuts, butter, and sea salt in a 350° oven for 15 minutes stirring once or twice to encourage even coating.  Remove from heat, let cool and mix with cajeta.
2. Melt the chocolate in a double boiler over low heat, stirring frequently to achieve uniform consistency.
3. Using a small spoon, dab a bit of chocolate in the bottom of every cup. Spread it around so it evenly coats the bottom and up a little on the sides as well.  Next fill the cups with about a teaspoon of the cajeta mixture.  Do not mound too high, but be generous- this is the goodness you’ll be eating soon! To finish, top each cup with enough chocolate to cover the cajeta mixture. Spread it around so it evenly coats the cup and drizzles a bit down the sides as well.  Sprinkle some finishing salt on top of the chocolate before it hardens so it sticks nicely.  Place in refrigerator to cool and harden for 10 minutes, eat and enjoy!