Croquembouche conquered...almost

For a long time now I've wanted to try making a croquembouche. Why, I hear you ask? Well, why not?

I guess I see it as one of those ultimate kitchen challenges. Tim has always thought this a bit of a silly idea and steadfastly discouraged me from attempting such a foolhardy exercise. He has pointed out that it involves hot sugar, which he assured me has a much higher boiling point than water. Also, boiling sugar is sticky. That makes for one big 'ouch' if you come into contact with it. I don't always listen to Tim.

Instead I called my sister Esther. I distinctly remember her high school home economics teacher commending her choux pastry efforts. Esther imparted what would become my mantra for the pastry making part of the deal - just keep stirring. One sore arm later, and I had several dozen fairly decent little puffs. Tim said they were shaped a bit like doggy do. He still ate them.

I'd read somewhere that profiteroles are best for croquembouche use the day after they're baked because they dry out a bit. I think this is true. I baked on Friday evening and constructed on Saturday morning and they did seem drier. I threw together a very thick custard filling that seemed to do the trick and piped it in about two dozen profiteroles.

At this point it was toffee time. I followed a recipe of sugar, glucose syrup and water and boiled until it started changing colour. I then dipped the top of each profiterole, without incident, and put them aside.

Finally it was time to construct. I was fairly confident, even though I didn't have a mould. Since the tower I was making wasn't that big, I thought I'd be fine. With the bottom layer down - the ground work you might say - it was time to put to work all that icy pole stick construction practice I'd had during various team building exercises over the years. Not quite the same thing but it still involved gluing somewhat unwieldy objects together to form a recognisable shape. And this is where it got nasty.

While dipping the bottom of a profiterole in molten sugar, I managed to drip some onto my right index finger. (Being right handed I could hardly have picked a worse spot for a bad burn.) It's true - molten sugar is very sticky and and very, very hot. And you can't stick your finger in your mouth for instant relief because you'll burn your mouth and hurt for hours in two places at once.

I don't recall swearing. I didn't cry. I stuck said finger under cold running water. In fact, I spent most of the rest of the day with a container of cold water at the ready for finger dunking. What didn't help was re-burning it later on when I went to get a hot tray out of the oven. I'm pretty sure I swore on that occasion. Ladybug certainly got a fright. I'm also pretty sure that I could just about pinpoint the spot in my brain where I felt some sort of chemical release every time I stuck my finger back into the cold water and relief washed over me. It was weird and strangely satisfying.

Besides the huge blister, I now have a sense of achievement and a healthier respect for hot sugar.

Oh, and Tim has offered to buy me special heat proof gloves, just in case I try this again. He's so thoughtful.