This week started on a high note, celebrating another painting class under my belt. I had technical difficulties this time and nearly panicked towards the end. But the whole thing made me more confident in my ability to teach, and paint, through chaos. I was excited to start my recipe early, because I knew it would need plenty of trial and error. I popped my new copper canelé tins out of their box and marveled at them. This week has been devoted to heavy research and recipe development for the most fascinating French custard cakes, canelés. I decided to make my own twist with maple canelés using Maine maple syrup.

Maple Canelés Research

On Monday I sped home from the post office with a package. Food-grade beeswax. The small yellow pellets are mandatory for making custard cakes. I’ve been deep in research, watching videos and reading articles about how canelés achieve their signature caramelized, crisp exterior. Because of the high heat of the oven and the copper molds, the beeswax and butter coating intensely sets the sugary custard crust into a hard amber crunch. I’ve never cooked with beeswax before, but I’m thinking about making candles with the leftover pellets, which have a pleasant scent and a beautiful buttercup color.

The first thing I did, after scouring the internet for all the information I could find on this mysterious and complex pastry, was seasoning my molds. Out of the box they came in their pristine orange copper shine. I could see my reflection in them. I slipped into a happy haze while washing them with soapy water. Then, I dried them off and coated the insides with a thin layer of soft butter. The oven was roaring and slightly smoking from remnants of spilled caramel and cake batter. I placed them on a baking sheet and cooked them for 20 minutes, fanning the smoke away as the butter burned.

Lining the Copper Tins

When they were done, I wiped them with a paper towel to get out the brown butter and let them cool. I fed myself a lunch of scraps, leftovers, and bits and bobs and drove downtown to do some errands before finishing my maple custard cakes. I perused our local grocery store isles and picked up a heavy sack of flour for an upcoming recipe. Sugar. Cornstarch and cream of tartar that I used up on my failed meringues last week. The day was blisteringly cold but sunny and windy. I brewed a pot of coffee when I got home and threw on my apron. The first thing I had to do was coat my molds.

The wax coating for canelés is about 3 parts butter and 2 parts beeswax, but I measured them on my digital scale by the gram to be safe. Then, I threw them into my favorite blue sauce pot and started melting. They bubbled and melded into a beautiful golden yellow liquid as the last bits of wax and butter dissolved. I researched the hell out of the next step – how to coat canelé molds. I watched countless videos, pausing on frames and dissecting blog posts about custard cakes and canelés. What was the ideal thickness? The best temperature and technique?

Cooking Custard Cakes

Claire Saffitz recommends putting the tins in the oven to keep them warm before adding the wax mixture so that it doesn’t harden too quickly. It was a very tricky and quick process of coaxing molten liquid into tin after tin, holding them with a kitchen towel. But even after a minute of doing this, the temperature of the tins and the wax had decreased significantly. So, I rewatched Claire’s video and realized she did them one at a time. Duh. The last couple tins had a slightly thick coating of wax and butter. But that was okay. I would do two or three batches, so the first could have some mistakes. What better way to learn?

Once they were all coated I placed them in the fridge. Next was my custard. Which was the biggest deviation from the original canelés recipe I used. I didn’t have the budget for a whole bottle of rum, which my family of non-drinkers would never touch. So, I churned thorough ideas in my head of other substances I could use. Vodka? Gin? Extra vanilla?

Finally, after reading a blog comment about the effects of leaving out the rum, I realized I could just make maple custard cakes. At the same time I re-read the recipe and noticed it said “cane sugar”. For some reason I read it as “caster sugar” the first time. So I started to panic, thinking the sugar was an integral part of the caramelization on the outside. But as I stared at my jug of local maple syrup in disbelief at the prospect of having to go back to the store, I decided to make homemade maple sugar.

Maple Sugar Mayhem

Maple sugar is easy to make, in theory, if you are lucky, experienced, and have perfect conditions. And a candy thermometer. Part of my personality, my ADHD, is that I get distracted very easily. So, I spent the next two hours trying to make maple sugar. Pausing a video every 2 seconds to make sure I had done it right. I melted down my maple syrup into a thick, bubbling caramel, which nearly boiled over twice.

I saved it, miraculously, and transferred it to a wider, shallow pan. It stopped it from boiling over, but it kept it from whipping up like the one in the video. I whipped and whipped with my hand mixer for what felt like an eternity. Then, with sore wrists and defeated spirits, I decided to just heat it up again and pour it onto a silicon mat. I left it alone and groaned as I ate my lunch in the other room, frustrated with my failed attempt.

Letting the Batter Rest

When I went back in an hour or two, it had completely hardened into a glistening caramel puddle. So I blitzed it with a little granulated sugar in a new food processor, and it was perfect. If I had just trusted my instincts in the first place, it would have saved me hours. Oh well. I carried on and made my custard, dancing blanched eggs, mixed with my maple sugar, with butter, flour, and hot milk. Finally swishing the liquid into a cohesive thin consistency. There was nothing else to do for the day.

The next step, which was “mandatory”, was to rest the batter for 24-48 hours. So, off it went into the fridge, and I focused on other things for a couple days while I dreamed of maple canelés. Even though I’d never tried one before I could taste the custardy inside, melting on my tongue. The crack and crunch of caramelized sugar on the outside. I could see the bubbly, pale yellow inside after cutting it in half.

Baking Maple Canelés for the First Time

On Friday I baked my first batch. With high hopes and nerves. “The World’s Most Difficult Pastry” was something I often read when researching how to make canelés. So I was intimidated but determined. The first thing I did when I woke up was turn the oven up all the way. I let it heat for nearly 2 hours. Then, I popped my molds out of the fridge and filled them with my custard. Which I gently whisked to re-combine the ingredients. It smelled mostly neutral, but a little maple-y and slightly sour. I opened my oven and nearly choked on a cloud of intense smoke. Then, I placed each canelé onto the hot baking sheet and closed the oven. I spent the next 10 minutes Great British Bake Off style squatting in front of the oven window.

The custards rose gently out of the tins, which was good. They didn’t spill over the sides. It looked just like the videos I had watched. But soon after, the kitchen began to fill with an unpleasant smoky smell. I had used too much beeswax coating. So the liquid began to spill out of the tins as the custards rose. The whole baking sheet was covered in wax, and it burned in the 500 and something degree oven.

From Burnt to Caramelized Custard Cakes

I turned the heat down when the recipe said to, and hoped that they were supposed to smell like burnt tires. Finally, after an hour of feeling like I was in a cigar shop, I opened the oven to a cloud of black fumes and burnt maple canelés. In the light they looked slightly less horrible. They popped out of the molds easily, which was a small victory. I let them cool and searched for brown in a sea of charred black.

Finally, I tasted one, and the inside was that bubbly perfection I dreamed of. However, the edges were too caramelized. Probably due to adding extra sugar from the maple syrup. But, this was the first batch. I would do better next time. I coated the insides of my tins again, successfully using less wax and butter, and placed them in the fridge for the next day. On Saturday, I repeated the process. Stirring my batter. Pouring. Preheating. I turned the temperature down this time. Off they went to cook.

This time there was far less smoke. They smelled caramelized, not burnt. So I began to get excited. Once again they rose beautifully just above the lip and settled back down. I set a timer and checked them after watching an episode of The Traitors. It was a big moment. I took one out of the oven with a kitchen towel and noted that the top was deeply golden brown. But the inner circle seemed sunken and pale. I impulsively tried to remove it from the tin, which was harder this time. Finally, it came out but it was far too undercooked. Yellow spots all over.

Finishing the Maple Canelés

So, I coaxed it back into its tin, and baked them all for another 10-15 minutes. There was no going back now. So, I removed the pan from the oven and shut it off. The first canelé wouldn’t come out of its mold. I began to worry. Maybe I didn’t use enough beeswax this time. Then, out of nowhere, it emerged. A glistening, deeply caramelized amber crown of pastry. I looked at it, wide-eyed and amazed, and continued to remove 5 more pastries. Most of them were amazing. Some had light yellow spots from air bubbles. Which is common. So I moved on, and celebrated my success. I let them cool on a wire rack, then impatiently cut one in half after 10 minutes and tried it.

What a beautiful contrast. Soft, custardy, just-set batter. With the flavor of sugar and egg, like creme brûlée. Accentuated by a hard, crispy coating of dark sugar and maple on the exterior. The knife cuts with a satisfying deep crack. The insides are a web of bubbly yellow air pockets and rich custard. They remind me of creme brûlée. But if it was a delicate cake with a crack of sugar on the entire exterior. Mine have an undertone of maple. A deep, rich flavor imparted by the maple sugar and Maine maple syrup. And what a beautiful presentation. Small, crown-like jewels of glistening pastries. I had never eaten one until now, but I will be making them again.

Eating Canelés + Reflecting

This week was devoted to recipe experimentation. Relaxing. Eating delicious custard cakes. So, I had a good week. My mental health was stable and positive. I enjoyed watching TV and curling up under a blanket in the Maine winter. I’m practicing being present and enjoying my time in what feels like limbo sometimes. But I know I’ll miss this time one day. And I’m feeling incredibly grateful after seeing how many people have lost their homes in the California fires. I feel extremely lucky to be here, to be cold. To be safe. And to have “the world’s most difficult pastry” in the kitchen.

So, if you decide to make these, I encourage you to scour the internet, like I did. My recipe isn’t perfect for every oven. The key is to use your instincts. Your sense of smell. Touch and feel. Trial and error. And the worst thing that can happen is you will be left with incredibly delicious custard that is slightly overcooked or undercooked. There is still so much deliciousness in failure!

Thank you for reading. If you enjoy my recipes and paintings, be sure to check out my Etsy for 100’s of art prints and recipe cards! Use code THEFORKEDRING for 25% off.

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Maple Canelés

A classic French Canelé recipe made with Maine maple sugar (adapted from Taste of Artisan)

Course Dessert

Cuisine French

Keyword breakfast pastry, Canelé, Canelés, custard, French pastry

Prep Time 2 days days

Cook Time 1 hour hour

Servings 12

Author theforkedring

Ingredients

• 2 vanilla beans
• 500 ml whole milk
• 2 large eggs + 2 egg yolks
• 200 g maple sugar
• 1 tsp salt
• 50 g brown butter melted
• 100 g AP flour
• 1/4 cup maple syrup
• 40 g beeswax
• 60 g butter

Instructions

• In a medium stock pot, combine milk and split vanilla beans. Cook over medium heat until bubbling and hot.
• Meanwhile, whisk eggs, egg yolks, maple sugar, and salt in a large bowl until smooth. Stream in your warm, melted brown butter and whisk to combine.
• Slowly add 1/4 of your hot cream and vanilla mixture and whisk to combine. Don’t add too much at once or you risk scrambling your eggs.
• Whisk in your flour until there are no lumps left. Then, add the rest of your hot cream and mix. Lastly, add your maple syrup and let you custard cool.
• Cover your custard and let rest in the fridge for at least 24-28 hours to develop flavor (it can last up to 4 days).
• When ready to bake your canelés, combine your food-grade beeswax and butter in a stock pot. Heat over medium until fully melted and warm.
• Prepare to coat the insides of your copper canelé tins by ensuring they are room temperature. I place mine in a warm oven until I'm ready to pour in the wax mixture to make sure it doesn't harden too quickly.
• Carefully holding your warm copper tins with a kitchen cloth, pour in enough beeswax and butter mixture to fill the cup most of the way. Swirl the mixture around the edges to coat completely, then pour into your next tin.
• Repeat coating the insides of your canelé tins until all 6 are filled. They should have a uniform yellow wax coating but not be too thick, which can contribute to your pastries burning. Chill tins until ready to fill.
• Preheat oven to 525°F for at least 30 minutes before cooking. Place a tinfoil-lined baking sheet in the oven to heat up, which your tins will sit on.
• Remove your custard mixture from the fridge and gently mix it with a fork or chopstick to ensure the flour hasn’t sunk to the bottom. Be mindful not to whip it, as you don’t want to add any air to the batter.
• Fill your copper molds 3/4 of the way with batter and carefully place them on top of the hot sheet pan in the oven. Bake for 15 minutes and then turn the temperature down to 375°F.
• Bake for another 35-50 minutes. You can peek at the tops to see if they’re done but use your nose – they should smell deeply caramelized, not burnt. The tops will be dark golden brown and slightly lighter in the middle.
• When done, remove tins from oven and quickly turn them each onto a wire rack, removing the pastries from the tins. Let canelés rest for 1-2 hours to let the crust harden.

Notes

• You can use cane sugar or palm sugar if you don’t have maple sugar. Regular sugar is fine too, just don’t use anything labeled “superfine”.
• You can use 2 teaspoons of vanilla extract if you don’t have beans.
• You will bake 6 pastries at a time, so if you have leftover wax mixture you can let it harden and re-melt it. I like to prepare my tins the day before to make things easier.
• Before pouring the custard, gently drop your container on the counter a few times to remove any stubborn air bubbles. This helps the pastries cook more evenly. 
• They will be difficult to remove if you don’t use enough beeswax, so I like to coat my molds twice to ensure a thick-enough coating.
• Make sure your copper tins are seasoned before using. All you have to do is clean brand new molds with warm soapy water and completely dry. Then, coat with a little bit of butter and cook in a very hot oven for 20 minutes. Let cool and wipe with butter out with a clean towel.