Before Tom and I went on vacation to Copenhagen in August, one of my former paralegals who had lived there while studying abroad warned me that licorice was everywhere and that we would come across licorice-flavored everything. The Danes do love their licorice -- as does my husband; once when I took Tom to Licorice International in Lincoln, we left with an embarrassingly large bag filled with $50 worth of salty sweets. As we were departing Copenhagen I spent my remaining Danish kroner on some raw powdered licorice (or "liquorice" -- the British spelling) at one of the Lakrids by Johan Bülow stores at the airport. The salesclerk also gave me a few English recipe cards that use the powder as an ingredient.
Even though I have the licorice powder and some recipe cards, I've been reluctant to make any licorice recipes. Licorice is an acquired taste. But then someone was kind enough to send me a recipe for "Liquorice Meringues" from Samarkand, a cookbook with recipes from Central Asia and the Caucasus. It came from Louise, a blog reader and expert baker, gardener, and food preserver with whom I've been corresponding with for years. She's been kind enough to share recipes with me and let me live vicariously through her extensive travels around the world. I thought the meringues looked like an accessible licorice dessert that would be a good way to ease myself into baking with licorice powder.
It's a straightforward meringue recipe. You whisk egg whites to soft peaks, slowly add granulated sugar and whisk the whites until thick and glossy, and fold in powdered sugar and licorice powder. The recipe has directions to make striped meringues by painting a pastry bag with black gel food coloring before piping out the meringues with a star tip.
I made my meringues larger than the recipe suggests and ended up with only half the specified yield of 40. I baked the meringues until they were crisp and dry and they ended up a light ecru color with black and grey swirls. I wasn't a huge fan of these. The flavor was... weird. It's even difficult to describe. I can't decide if they would be better with more licorice powder or less licorice powder, but they had a sort of charcoal-y aftertaste. They were not very popular with my tasters, although I had one colleague who was a huge fan and who volunteered to take most of the leftovers home for her and her husband, who is a Swede. I also didn't think the black food coloring was very appetizing. However, it did occur to me that these meringues might be good for Halloween. Both the color and the ashy flavor would be prefect for the holiday.
I do like licorice, but I think it's a difficult flavor to incorporate into desserts directed to American palates. I'm going to keep working on it!
Recipe: "Liquorice Meringues" from Samarkand by Caroline Eden and Eleanor Ford.
Previous Posts:
Even though I have the licorice powder and some recipe cards, I've been reluctant to make any licorice recipes. Licorice is an acquired taste. But then someone was kind enough to send me a recipe for "Liquorice Meringues" from Samarkand, a cookbook with recipes from Central Asia and the Caucasus. It came from Louise, a blog reader and expert baker, gardener, and food preserver with whom I've been corresponding with for years. She's been kind enough to share recipes with me and let me live vicariously through her extensive travels around the world. I thought the meringues looked like an accessible licorice dessert that would be a good way to ease myself into baking with licorice powder.
It's a straightforward meringue recipe. You whisk egg whites to soft peaks, slowly add granulated sugar and whisk the whites until thick and glossy, and fold in powdered sugar and licorice powder. The recipe has directions to make striped meringues by painting a pastry bag with black gel food coloring before piping out the meringues with a star tip.
I made my meringues larger than the recipe suggests and ended up with only half the specified yield of 40. I baked the meringues until they were crisp and dry and they ended up a light ecru color with black and grey swirls. I wasn't a huge fan of these. The flavor was... weird. It's even difficult to describe. I can't decide if they would be better with more licorice powder or less licorice powder, but they had a sort of charcoal-y aftertaste. They were not very popular with my tasters, although I had one colleague who was a huge fan and who volunteered to take most of the leftovers home for her and her husband, who is a Swede. I also didn't think the black food coloring was very appetizing. However, it did occur to me that these meringues might be good for Halloween. Both the color and the ashy flavor would be prefect for the holiday.
I do like licorice, but I think it's a difficult flavor to incorporate into desserts directed to American palates. I'm going to keep working on it!
Recipe: "Liquorice Meringues" from Samarkand by Caroline Eden and Eleanor Ford.
Previous Posts:
- "Baked Sunday Mornings: Peppermint Chocolate Chip Meringues," July 30, 2017.
- "A Marvelous Mess of Meringue: Three-Layer Berry and Brown Sugar Pavlova," April 5, 2016.
- "Swirly Twirly Mint Drops: Peppermint Meringues," October 4, 2014.
- "The Kiss of Deliciousness: Ginger Meringue Kisses," May 5, 2014.
- "Baked Sunday Mornings: Meringues," June 2, 2013.
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