- Au Petit Poucet → charcuteries
- Érablière du Coeur Sucré → produits de l'érable biologiques
- Gourmet Sauvage → produits sauvages
- La Manufacture → gins
- La Veillée → bières de microbrasserie
- Miel de la Garde → miels biologiques
- Pascal Le Boulanger → boulangerie
- Tabarnasco → sauces piquantes
- Tribe Kombucha → kombucha
Ingrédients
- 400 g + 75 g d'eau pour le bassinage
- 450 g de farine de blé T65
- 200 g de pépites de chocolat
- 45 g de poudre de cacao
- 20 g de sucre
- 10 g de sel
- 5 g de levure fraîche
Instructions
-
Peser les ingrédients, et les rassembler dans la cuve du robot. J’ai ici pris l’habitude de commencer par verser l’eau de coulage plutôt que la farine, ce qui permet au mélange de se faire correctement sans avoir à aller gratter la farine au fond de la cuve.
Verser donc l’eau, ajouter le sucre et le sel, puis la farine et le cacao et finir par la levure. -
Frasage de 4 minutes en première avec tous les ingrédients puis en 2ème jusqu’à ce que la pâte se décolle des bords de la cuve. La matière grasse contenu dans la poudre de cacao ne favorise pas le développement du réseau de gluten. Il faut ici bien veiller à laisser la pâte prendre de la force, ce qui demande un peu plus de temps que pour une pâte à pain classique. Je dois compter 10 à 15 minutes avec un KitchenAid. Si vous passez trop vite à la suite, la pâte sera vraiment coulante et sans force, et très difficile à travailler par la suite.
-
Quand la pâte forme une belle boule qui se décolle des bords de la cuve, ajouter l’eau de bassinage en 2 ou 3 fois, en laissant le temps à la pâte d’absorber l’eau entre chaque ajout.
Il ne reste qu’à incorporer les pépites de chocolat, et contrôler la température de la pâte qui doit être au alentours de 23°C. -
Laisser pointer 1 heure à température ambiante, faire un rabat et placer au frigo jusqu’au lendemain.
-
Le lendemain, diviser en 6 pâtons de 200g environ et bouler la pâte encore figée par le froid. Laisser détendre une vingtaine de minutes avant de façonner en forme de petit bâtard. Replier le tiers supérieur, retourner le pâton et replier le tiers inférieur, souder les bords avec la paume de la main.
-
Ensuite il faut compter 1h de pousse avant d’inciser la pâte et de mettre au four. Préchauffer à 250°C une demi-heure avant la cuisson et enfourner 12 minutes.
-
Laisser refroidir sur une grille.
Très bon.
Par contre, en relisant la recette, je me suis rendu compte que je n'ai pas suivi les étapes à la lettre.
C'est probablement pour cela que j'ai eu du mal à mettre en forme mes pains.
Il va falloir que je teste à nouveau.
Remember: Kurt Vonnegut was 47
The Long Apprenticeship
At forty-seven, Kurt Vonnegut published Slaughterhouse-Five. He had been a struggling writer, a car salesman, a PR man at General Electric, and a failed playwright. He had seen war firsthand, lived through firebombs, raised six children (four of them adopted after his sister's death), and produced a shelf of novels that garnered little attention. Then suddenly, almost accidentally, he became one of the most important American voices of the twentieth century. When people recall Vonnegut now, they picture the wry, cigarette-smoking humanist, the man who wrote about time travel and Dresden and the strange species of Tralfamadorians. But in 1969, when Slaughterhouse-Five came out, he was not young, not new, and certainly not destined to succeed. He was forty-seven.
Why does this matter? Because we live in a culture obsessed with precocity. We valorize the twenty-two-year-old founder, the thirty-year-old Nobel laureate, the poet who dies before publishing her second book. To be forty-seven in America often feels like you are past your prime, coasting toward irrelevance. And yet Vonnegut’s story punctures this narrative. It raises the uncomfortable, thrilling question: how much can be done late, when everyone thinks the window has closed?
American culture has always been suspicious of age. Fitzgerald made it clear in This Side of Paradise - the whole point was to capture the fleeting brilliance of youth before it calcified into routine. The Beats chased a similar myth, a reckless vitality that had to burn out quickly. Silicon Valley today has its own catechism: Zuckerberg’s infamous line, “Young people are just smarter.” It’s the same fetish, rebranded.
But history doesn’t quite bear this out. Galileo was in his forties when he published his most radical works. Thomas Paine was forty when Common Sense reshaped political thought. Susan B. Anthony was fifty-two when she cast her first illegal vote. The assumption that genius peaks young has always been a convenient myth. It flatters the ambitious and terrifies the hesitant. It also blinds us to the fact that many of history’s breakthroughs came from people who had been around long enough to see patterns others missed.
Vonnegut is a particularly vivid example because he had already failed. He had written science fiction for pulp magazines, novels like Player Piano and The Sirens of Titan that earned him modest attention but little money. He was not a wunderkind. He was a midlist author, typing away between family obligations and day jobs. By the logic of our culture, he should have given up. Instead, he wrote the book that only someone with his scars, his age, and his accumulated oddities could have produced.
There is dignity in failure, especially prolonged failure. Consider Melville: forgotten after Moby-Dick, reduced to writing insurance reports, rediscovered decades later. Or Emily Dickinson, who failed in the most invisible way: unread in her lifetime, her poems quietly fermenting in a drawer. Vonnegut’s failures were of a different sort - his books did get published, but with disappointing results. He was a writer who could fill a shelf in a used bookstore, gathering dust beside more fashionable authors. But that experience mattered. Slaughterhouse-Five is not a young man’s book. Its humor is laced with bitterness, its form is fractured by time, and its philosophy is resigned rather than triumphant. Only someone who had seen things fall apart (repeatedly) could have written it.
And maybe this is why age can produce greatness. Youth thrives on conviction; age is forced into complexity. Vonnegut could not tell a clean story about Dresden. He knew memory was fractured, that trauma distorted time, that irony was the only language left. His narrative jumps back and forth through decades, between planets and battlefields; because that was the only way to be honest.
Middle age is rarely glamorous. Dante placed himself “midway in our life’s journey” in the dark wood, lost and confused. The Greeks had their crises too - Solon supposedly argued that you could not call a man happy until he died, because only the full arc could reveal whether fortune had spared him. At forty-seven, Vonnegut was in that territory. He had no assurance his career would matter. His books were not chart-toppers. He was supporting a sprawling family on uneven income. He had lived enough to know the absurdities of both war and corporate America. Out of that stew came Slaughterhouse-Five.
This matters; because middle age is often treated as decline, the moment when one’s creativity has been used up. Neuroscience papers are circulated to show how fluid intelligence peaks in your twenties, how mathematicians do their best work before thirty-five. But there is another kind of intelligence: crystallized, layered, associative. The ability to see connections across disciplines, to synthesize long experience into something new. Vonnegut’s novel is precisely that kind of synthesis: war memoir, science fiction, satire, elegy.
Vonnegut’s war had always haunted him. As a young soldier, he was captured in the Battle of the Bulge, held in Dresden, and survived the firebombing by hiding in a slaughterhouse basement. It took him decades to turn this into art.
Some traumas resist immediate rendering.
Primo Levi needed years before If This Is a Man could be written. Pat Barker’s Regeneration trilogy required the hindsight of the 1990s to reimagine the First World War. Vonnegut’s forty-seven-year-old self could finally write what his twenty-five-year-old self could only (and barely) endure.
Slaughterhouse-Five is not cathartic. It does not end with redemption. The famous refrain - “So it goes” - is less about acceptance or closure, than about repetition, about the endless cycle of death. The book offers no comfort, but it does offer recognition.
That recognition is the work of age.
Life, all this living, all this striving is a long apprenticeship that cannot be compressed. Some writers learn style and voice quickly; others take decades. Henry James distinguished between the “young genius” and the “late bloomer,” but suggested both paths were legitimate.
Vonnegut’s early books were uneven, witty but scattered. He had not yet found the tone that made him distinctive. By the time he reached Slaughterhouse-Five, he had rehearsed irony, satire, science fiction tropes, and autobiographical fragments enough times to finally bring them together. Forty-seven was not late; it was right on time.
Chartres was not built in a decade. The Parthenon was rebuilt multiple times. Sometimes greatness takes patience, not precocity.
Why does our culture cling to the idea that if you haven’t made it by thirty, you won’t? Part of it is economic: industries want to exploit youthful energy at low wages. Part of it is romantic: the myth of the prodigy is more cinematic than the tale of the slow grinder. But part of it may also be anxiety about mortality. To celebrate the late bloomer is to admit that our lives can change radically past middle age, which is destabilizing. If anything can happen at forty-seven, then perhaps we cannot measure ourselves against arbitrary deadlines.
Vonnegut mocked all deadlines. He wrote about time as non-linear, about events existing simultaneously. In Slaughterhouse-Five, Billy Pilgrim comes “unstuck in time.” That phrase could apply to Vonnegut himself: his career looked like a sequence of failures until it suddenly wasn’t.
We are all unstuck in time.
Our successes and failures do not unfold in neat order.
Sometimes they arrive decades late.
Remember: Kurt Vonnegut was forty-seven when he wrote his masterpiece. And this fact should unsettle us! It should challenge the myth that our best years are always early. It should remind us that the middle of life can be fertile, that failure can ripen into art, that age can distill experience into something no youth could mimic. To be forty-seven is not to be finished. It may, for some, be the very beginning.
Ingredients
- 3/4 Cup milk
- 1 Cup flour
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1 egg
- 6 tablespoons margarine
- 1/4 Cup sugar
- 1 package dry yeast
- 1/3 Cup flour
Instructions
- Warm 3/4 Cup milk and 6 Tablespoons margarine until margarine melts. Set aside to cool.
- Mix 1 Cup flour, 1/4 Cup sugar, 1/2 teaspoon salt and 1 package dry yeast.
- When milk-margarine mixture is cool enough to touch (need not be cold) add to dry ingredients and beat.
- Add 1 egg, 1/3 Cup flour and beat again.
- Add enough flour for dough (this is the hard part it will be very stiff for mixing), dump out of bowl and knead. (Keep adding a little flour as you knead as it becomes too sticky), about 10 minutes.
- Put in greased bowl, cover with towel and set aside to double (usually about 1-1 1/2 hours). Then punch down and knead again. Shape into loaf and put in greased bread pan. Let double again. Bake in slow oven (325-350 degrees) about 30-45 minutes until brown.
Vraiment intéressant !
Ingrédients
- 100 g de farine de châtaigne
- 100 g de farine de blé ou de seigle (ou de farine de riz pour une recette gluten Free)
- 150 g de lait (soit 0,15 l)
- 200 g de miel de châtaignier
- 50 g de sucre roux
- 60 g de beurre
- 1 paquet de levure chimique
- 2 à 3 cuillères à café de mélange d’épices
- 100 g de fruits confits ou secs
- 1 cuillère à café de vanille en poudre
- 2 cuillères à café de bicarbonate alimentaire
Instructions
- Faites chauffer le lait avec le miel de châtaigne, le beurre et le sucre.
- Dans un saladier, mélangez les deux farines, la levure, les épices (avec du miel de châtaigne, optez pour 2 cuillères à café !) et les fruits secs.
- Incorporez le mélange liquide dans le saladier et mélangez le tout jusqu’à obtenir une pâte sans grumeaux.
- Enfournez ensuite pour une heure à 155°C dans un four à chaleur tournante préalablement chauffé.
- Sortir du four dès que la cuisson est terminée et laisser refroidir avant de démouler sur une grille.
Il est très bon, très moelleux. Malheureusement, les épices cachent trop le gout du miel et de la farine de chataigne.
INGRÉDIENTS
Pâte
- 70 g (1/2 tasse) de farine tout usage La Merveilleuse
- 2,5 ml (1/2 c. à thé) de poudre à pâte
- 0,5 ml (1/8 c. à thé) de sel
- 110 g (1/2 tasse) de sucre de canne
- 1 gros oeuf, battu (55 g)
- 30 ml (2 c. à soupe) de margarine végétale, fondue
- 30 ml (2 c. à soupe) de boisson végétale, au goût
- 5 ml (1 c. à thé) d'essence de vanille
Garniture
- 240 g (3/4 tasse) de sirop d'érable
- 55 g (1/4 tasse) de sucre de canne
- 2 gros oeufs (110 g)
- 35 g (1/4 tasse) de margarine végétale
- 30 ml (2 c. à soupe) de farine tout usage La Merveilleuse
- 2,5 ml (1/2 c. à thé) d'essence de vanille
- 1 ml (1/4 c. à thé) de sel
- 65 g (2/3 tasse) de pacanes, hachées
Instructions
Pâte
- Préchauffer le four à 150 °C (300 °F). Huiler un moule carré de 20 cm (8 po) et déposer un papier parchemin au fond.
- Dans un bol, mélanger la farine, la poudre à pâte et le sel. Réserver.
- Dans un moyen bol, combiner le sucre, l’œuf, la margarine, la boisson végétale et l’extrait de vanille. Mélanger le tout à l’aide d’une cuiller de bois jusqu’à ce que le mélange soit lisse et crémeux.
- Ajouter le tiers des ingrédients secs à la fois en mélangeant entre chaque addition, jusqu’à l’obtention d’une pâte homogène.
- Répartir également la pâte dans le moule et placer sur la grille centrale du four afin de précuire pendant 15 minutes, sans plus. Retirer du four et réserver.
Garniture
- Verser le sirop d'érable dans une moyenne casserole, incorporer le sucre de canne et amener à ébullition. Laisser mijoter à feu doux pendant 5 minutes. Retirer du feu et laisser tiédir pendant 30 minutes puis préchauffer le four à 230 °C (450 °F).
- Après le temps de repos du sirop d’érable, verser doucement les œufs sur le sirop en battant constamment à l'aide d'un batteur électrique.
- Incorporer la margarine végétale, la farine, l'extrait de vanille et le sel et battre, toujours à l'aide d'un batteur électrique, jusqu'à l'obtention d'un mélange crémeux et onctueux (environ 3 à 4 minutes).
- Verser sur la pâte pré-cuite et parsemer le dessus de pacanes.
- Cuire sur la grille centrale du four préchauffé tel qu'indiqué au point 1 pendant 10 minutes. Baisser ensuite la température à 180 °C (350 °F) et poursuivre la cuisson pendant 15 à 20 minutes. Les carrés seront prêts lorsqu'ils seront bien dorés
- Si la croûte semble manquer légèrement de cuisson mais que le dessus est bien cuit, simplement couvrir d'un papier parchemin pour les 5 dernières minutes de cuisson. Cela permettra à la croûte de bien cuire sans trop griller le dessus.
- Laisser refroidir complètement avec de couper en carrés.
Ingredients
- 750g full-fat cream cheese (at room temperature)
- 240g caster sugar
- 20g chocolate powder
- 150g dark (70%) chocolate
- 3 whole eggs (at room temperature)
- 300ml double cream (at room temperature)
- 1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
- 2 tsp whisky (optional)
Instructions
- Preheat the oven to 230°C (450°F).
- In a bowl, beat the cream cheese and caster sugar using an electric hand mixer until smooth.
- Add the eggs one at a time, mixing well after each addition until fully combined.
- Gradually pour the melted chocolate into the double cream while mixing. Stir in the whisky at
this stage. - Pour the chocolate-whisky cream mixture into the bowl with the cream cheese mixture and
blend everything together. - Add the salt and cocoa powder, then mix until smooth.
- Line a 20cm springform pan with parchment paper. Pour the batter into the pan and gently tap
it on the countertop a few times to release any air bubbles. - Bake the cheesecake uncovered for 35 minutes, or until the top is slightly charred. Avoid
opening the oven door during baking. - Once the cheesecake has cooled for 3 to 4 hours, serve or transfer it to the fridge.
Ingredients
COOKIES
- 110 g butter
- 100 g granulated sugar
- 100 g dark brown sugar
- 1 egg (57-60 g with shell)
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 230 g all-purpose flour
- ½ teaspoon baking powder
- ½ teaspoon baking soda
- 1 tablespoon instant espresso powder
- ½ teaspoon salt
MASCARPONE CREAM
- 180 g mascarpone cheese
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 90 g confectioners sugar
- 20 g agave or honey
- 120 g heavy cream
- 1 tablespoon cocoa powder for dusting
Instructions
COOKIES
- Melt the butter in the microwave or in a small saucepan over low-medium heat. You don’t want it to bubble, so as to not lose any of the liquid in the butter. Pour the melted butter into a big mixing bowl and let it cool down to room temperature in the fridge. Takes about 20 minutes.
- Once the butter has reached room temperature add the granulated sugar and brown sugar and with spatula whisk it together for 1 minute. Alternatively, mix it together in a stand mixer using the paddle attachment.
- Add the egg, vanilla extract and mix it in until combined.
- In a separate bowl, stir together flour, baking powder, baking soda, instant espresso powder and salt. Add the dry ingredients to the wet mixture and with spatula mix it together until just combined.
- Using a 2 tbsp/ 1.3 ounce cookie scoop, scoop out 11 cookies and place them on a tray lined with baking paper. Then roll them between your hands into a ball. Place the prepared cookies in the fridge to set for 1 hour.
- Meanwhile, preheat the oven at 180ºC / 355ºF and prepare a baking sheet with baking paper. Place 6 cookies per baking tray and bake one tray at a time for 10-11 minutes.
- Once baked, let them cool down on the baking tray for 3 minutes as they still will be soft when they are done. After they have cooled down a bit, use a spatula to lift them onto a cooling rack and let them cool down completely.
MASCARPONE CREAM
- In a medium bowl with an electric mixer or in a stand mixer using the whisk attachment, whip together all of the ingredients until it reaches stiff peaks and it holds its shape. If making ahead of serving, place in the fridge, covered by plastic wrap, until ready to assemble.
- When ready to serve, add the cream to a piping bag fitted with a piping tip e.g. Wilton 2A. Pipe the mascarpone cream on top of the cookies in a swirl, starting from the middle and moving outwards. Add a tablespoon of cocoa to fine mesh sieve and finish the cookies with dusting of cocoa powder.
- DIY Slippers : 16 Steps (with Pictures) - Instructables
- DIY Your Own Cozy Shoes 룸슈즈만들기 | How to make slippers the size you want. [sewingtimes] - YouTube
- Free Slipper Sewing Pattern for Women • Heather Handmade
- Free Slipper Sewing Patterns and Ideas
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- winter socks/house slippers10 MINUTES MAKING / Very easy even for beginners - YouTube
- Всего 4 шва, а тепло и комфорт вашим ногам обеспечен. Домашние тапки с теплой подошвой без выкройки. - YouTube
Un projet qui pourrait m'être utile pour m'entrainer les doigts !
Ingredients
- 500 grams ground beef
- 18 strips of streaky bacon
- 50 grams grated Parmesan cheese
- 2 teaspoons garlic powder
- 1 egg
- 75 ml milk
- 50 grams breadcrumbs
- 2 tablespoons Italian or french herbs
- 1 tablespoon freshly ground black pepper
- 5 tablespoons your fav BBQ rub
- 5 tablespoons your fav BBQ sauce
Instructions
- With the exception of the bacon, BBQ rub and sauce, throw everything in a bowl and mix it up well until you have a smooth paste.
- Roll them into little meatballs, roll them through your BBQ rub and roll a piece of bacon around it.
- Use a toothpick to secure it into place.
- 40-45 minutes on the BBQ at 110-120 degrees (indirect heat). The more smoke the better. It will create a nice red smoke ring and amazing taste!
- Then turn them around, glaze them with your BBQ sauce. Another 40-45 minutes.