
Chef Lupita
Besitos Yucatecos
Mérida's pale egg-yolk-and-vanilla kisses, tiny cookies built on eight yolks and a perfume of orange blossom, sandwiched with guava paste and dusted heavy with powdered sugar.
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Mérida's Porfiriato-era cream cones, a French choux shell built around vanilla and canela-infused pastry cream from the Yucatán, dusted with sugar and eaten the day they are filled.
These belong to Mérida. Not to France, even though the technique is French. Not to Mexico City, even though the capital had its own Porfiriato pastry scene. The conito as Yucatán knows it lives in the panaderías along Calle 60 and in the dulcerías that have been making them the same way since their grandfathers opened the doors.
This is a dish from a particular moment in Mexican history. In the late 1800s, under Porfirio Díaz, the henequen barons of Yucatán built fortunes on sisal rope and spent them imitating Paris. They hired French pastry chefs, imported butter and chocolate, and trained local cooks in the techniques of the European bakery. When the Revolution came and the haciendas collapsed, the chefs left and the cooks stayed. The conitos stayed with them. What you are making is the Yucatecan adaptation of a French form, infused with the flavors the local cooks already trusted: Papantla vanilla, lime zest from the dooryard tree, true Ceylon cinnamon from the spice trade that ran through the port of Sisal.
The pâte à choux is unforgiving. It demands a real boil before the flour goes in, a proper dry-out before the eggs go in, and patience to let each egg disappear before the next. La cocina no es decoración, es trabajo. The crema pastelera is where you assert the Yucatán. Do not use only vanilla extract and call it done. Infuse the milk with canela de Ceylán, the soft cinnamon that grows in Sri Lanka and travels through Mexican grocers for a reason; cassia bark is harsh and woody and will ruin the cream. Add the strip of lime peel. That brightness against the vanilla is the signature.
My mother did not make conitos. They were not Jalisciense. I learned them from Doña Esperanza in a pastry shop two blocks off the Plaza Grande in Mérida, who watched me pipe my first batch and said the dough was too wet and the cream was not cold enough. She was right on both counts. Saber cocinar es saber vivir, and sometimes it means listening to a señora who has been doing this since 1962.
The conito belongs to a small but distinct category of Mexican pastries born during the Porfiriato (1876-1911), when the Francophile policies of Porfirio Díaz brought European pastry chefs to Mexico's wealthier cities and gave rise to a hybrid pastelería tradition that survives today in Mérida, Puebla, and parts of Mexico City. Yucatán's version absorbed the regional pantry: Papantla vanilla cultivated by Totonac growers in Veracruz since pre-Columbian times, Ceylon cinnamon that arrived through the Manila Galleon trade and the Caribbean port of Sisal, and the lime trees that grow in nearly every Yucatecan dooryard. While French pâte à choux dates to the 16th-century court of Catherine de Medici, the Yucatecan conito is its own object: a creole pastry whose form is European and whose perfume is unmistakably from the peninsula.
Quantity
1 cup
Quantity
1/2 cup
cut into pieces
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon
Quantity
1 cup
sifted
Quantity
4
at room temperature
Quantity
1
beaten with 1 teaspoon water
Quantity
2 cups
Quantity
1
split and scraped (or 1 tablespoon vanilla extract)
Quantity
1 strip
pared with a vegetable peeler
Quantity
1 small
Quantity
5
Quantity
2/3 cup
Quantity
1/4 cup
Quantity
1/4 teaspoon
Quantity
2 tablespoons
cut into pieces
Quantity
for dusting
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| whole milk (for the choux) | 1 cup |
| unsalted buttercut into pieces | 1/2 cup |
| granulated sugar (for the choux) | 1 tablespoon |
| fine sea salt (for the choux) | 1/2 teaspoon |
| all-purpose floursifted | 1 cup |
| large eggsat room temperature | 4 |
| large egg yolk for egg washbeaten with 1 teaspoon water | 1 |
| whole milk (for the crema pastelera) | 2 cups |
| vanilla bean from Papantlasplit and scraped (or 1 tablespoon vanilla extract) | 1 |
| lime zestpared with a vegetable peeler | 1 strip |
| canela de Ceylán (Ceylon cinnamon stick) | 1 small |
| large egg yolks | 5 |
| granulated sugar (for the crema) | 2/3 cup |
| cornstarch | 1/4 cup |
| fine sea salt (for the crema) | 1/4 teaspoon |
| unsalted butter (for the crema)cut into pieces | 2 tablespoons |
| powdered sugar | for dusting |
Cut 18 to 20 squares of parchment, about 5 inches on each side. Roll each square into a cone around a metal cream-horn mold, or shape your own cones from heavy cardboard wrapped in parchment. Secure the seam with a staple or a small piece of tape on the outside. Brush the outside of each parchment cone lightly with butter. These are your forms. Without them, you have eclairs.
Pour the 2 cups of milk into a heavy saucepan. Add the split vanilla bean with its scrapings, the strip of lime zest, and the cinnamon stick. Warm over medium-low heat until the milk shows the first wisps of movement at the edges, about five minutes. Do not let it boil. Pull it off the heat and let it sit covered for fifteen minutes. The milk needs to take on the vanilla, the lime, and the canela. This infusion is what makes the cream Yucatecan and not a generic French pastry cream.
Combine the 1 cup of milk, the butter, the tablespoon of sugar, and the half teaspoon of salt in a heavy saucepan. Bring to a full boil over medium heat. The butter must be completely melted before the milk boils, so do not rush the heat. The moment it boils, dump in all the sifted flour at once and stir hard with a wooden spoon. The mixture will look ragged for ten seconds and then come together into a smooth ball that pulls away from the sides of the pan.
Keep the dough over medium heat and stir constantly for two to three more minutes. A thin film will form on the bottom of the pan. That film is what you want. You are cooking out the water so the dough can take more egg, and more egg is what gives the conitos their puff. Transfer the hot dough to a stand mixer fitted with the paddle, or to a wide bowl if working by hand. Beat for one minute to let it cool slightly.
Add the four eggs one at a time, beating until each is fully absorbed before adding the next. After the first egg the dough will look slick and broken. Keep going. By the fourth egg it should be glossy, smooth, and fall from the paddle in a thick V-shaped ribbon. If it falls in clumps, the dough is too dry. Beat in another egg yolk loosened with a teaspoon of water. The texture is the recipe, not the egg count.
Heat the oven to 400°F (200°C). Stand the parchment cones, point down, in a sheet pan lined with a wire rack so they hold upright, or lay them on their sides on a parchment-lined sheet. Transfer the dough to a piping bag fitted with a 1/2-inch plain tip. Pipe the dough in a spiral around each cone, starting at the point and working up, until the form is fully covered in a smooth, even layer about 1/4 inch thick. Brush the outside lightly with the egg wash. Bake for 25 minutes, then lower the heat to 350°F (175°C) and bake 10 minutes more, until deep golden brown and hollow-sounding when tapped. Do not open the oven in the first 20 minutes. The puff will collapse.
While the conitos bake, finish the cream. Fish out the cinnamon stick, the lime zest, and the vanilla pod from the infused milk. Bring the milk back to a bare simmer. In a separate bowl, whisk the 5 egg yolks with the 2/3 cup sugar, the cornstarch, and the salt until pale and smooth. Pour the hot milk into the yolks in a thin stream, whisking constantly. Return the whole mixture to the saucepan.
Cook over medium heat, whisking without stopping, until the cream thickens and the first big bubble breaks the surface, about three minutes. Let it bubble for one full minute more, whisking the whole time. This cooks out the cornstarch. Pull off the heat and whisk in the butter until it disappears. Strain through a fine-mesh sieve into a clean bowl. Press plastic wrap directly onto the surface and chill for at least one hour, until cold and set.
When the choux cones are completely cool, gently twist the parchment forms out from inside. The shells should slide off clean and feel light, almost hollow. If a shell feels damp inside, slit it with a paring knife and return it to a 325°F oven for five minutes to dry. A wet shell will turn soggy the moment it meets the cream. Así se hace y punto.
Whisk the chilled crema pastelera smooth and transfer it to a piping bag fitted with a small star or plain tip. Pipe the cream into each conito from the open end, filling all the way to the rim so the cream peaks slightly at the opening. Dust the tops generously with powdered sugar through a fine-mesh sieve. Eat them the day they are filled. A conito that sits overnight loses its crisp and there is no fixing it. Recetas probadas y garantizadas.
1 serving (about 78g)
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