Constructing a Temple of Churros

Did you know that Churros y Chocolate was the name of my first Spanish textbook?  Are you surprised I remembered that?  Of course you’re not.  The prospect of deep-fried dough dipped in chocolate was a surefire way to get me interested in a foreign tongue if there ever was one.  Well done, textbook publishers.  You know your audience.

Thinking that, as a parent all these years later, I knew my audience just as well, I decided to make churros and hot chocolate for the kids on their snow day last week.  Just because I was pissed off that school got cancelled didn’t mean everyone else had to suffer.  (Although, if I have to pay for another day of Preschool that gets snowed out, Mother Nature and I will come to blows.  There are four days during the week with no Preschool.  Why can’t it snow then?) 

So, I proceeded to get the chocolate melting and the lard a-bubblin’.  I wasn’t worried.  I mean, what’s not to like?  Fried dough.  Chocolate.  Well, the children didn’t offer up any specifics, but the Kindergartener took one bite of his churro, calmly returned it to the tangled mass of remaining churros, and silently withdrew back into his imaginary Pokemon world.  The 3YO, in typical form, took his and smashed it on the floor in disgust.  If you ever want to push my buttons, Internet, this is a good way to start.  Disrespect something I just lovingly deep-fried for you and then walk away without a backwards glance.  That right there is a recipe for rage.  (Later on, when the neighbors came over, the 3YO ate about 20 churros once he saw his best friend/arch-nemesis eating some.  Chalk one up for peer pressure.)

We adults enjoyed the remaining 150 churros with rich, steaming cups of Taza Chocolate with a hint of cinnamon.  If you don’t know about this Somerville chocolate factory, you must educate yourself.  Quick, before the winter is up.  Start by converting their stone-ground disks of pure heaven into beverage form, and then you will understand why the Mayans built temples for chocolate.  Or whatever it was they built temples for.  Quiet, snowless days, perhaps?

Churros

This makes a giant plate full of them.  Invite snowbound neighbors over to help you eat them all because they truly suck the next day. 

10 Tbsp. butter
1 cup water
2/3 cup flour
3 eggs, plus 1 egg yolk
Grated rind of 1 orange
Lard (or oil) for frying
Confectioner’s sugar and cinnamon for dusting
Hot chocolate for dunking

Add butter and water to a medium saucepan, and heat until butter melts.  Bring to a rolling boil.  Meanwhile, sift the flour at least twice and, as soon as the water boils, add it to the pot.  Remove pot from heat and beat until the mixture forms a ball and leaves the sides of the pan clean.  Let it cool about 10 minutes before you add the eggs so they don’t scramble.  Then add the eggs, yolk, and orange rind.

Heat the lard or oil in a medium, heavy-bottomed saucepan to a temperature between 350°-375°F (or until a cube of bread browns in 30 seconds).  Adjust the flame as needed to keep the temperature more or less in that range.  Spoon the mixture into a pastry bag fitted with a medium or large star nozzle.  Pipe strands of dough into the hot oil, pressing the tip against the side of the pan to pinch off the dough.  Alternatively, if you can’t be bothered with a pastry bag, I don’t see why you couldn’t just spoon in the dough, beignet-style.  Fry until golden brown on each side, flipping once.  Remove with slotted spoon and drain on paper towels. 

Mix together cinnamon and sugar, and sift gently over churros.  Serve warm with hot chocolate, dunking liberally.

Source: Adapted from Bite-Sized Spain by Sharyn Conlan and Anne Crane

Comments

[Kristin]

Mmmmm...I have 1 disk of Taza left, I have no idea why I didn't think of hot chocolate, so, thank you! I recently found this blog, and spent a good chunk of last night reading through your cookbook entries. I loved it. My family also came from Italy via New Haven, most of them are still there (while I am up here in non-Italian NH), and your pictures and stories reminded me so much of my family! I am looking forward to some free time to read more :).

[Lisa]

Oh wow. My 6 year old would have given you some fierce competition for that pile of churros. We've been lucky enough to go to Mexico the past two years and visiting the churros man is one of his favorite activities. This year we're going to a new town and he is worried about finding a source for churros.

I'm not a big fan deep frying but I may need to try this out.

[Jess]

Churros y Chocolate era mi primero libro para Español tambien! Pero ahora yo no requerdo nadie. Solamente esso.

I can hold a minimal Spanish conversation so long as we only talk about what's happening right now. Seriously, all I remember of grade school and high school Spanish is the present tense. I had to look up the past tense of ser! *sigh*

You want to kick this up for adults? Add a dash of cayenne to the cocoa. oooohhhhhh

[Jenni]

Oh, sweet! I didn't take Spanish. I took French, and this churro dough is very similar to pate a choux. You could use that same dough to make some crazy orange-scented eclairs!

At the restaurant I used to work at, I'd pipe pate a choux into curly cues, freeze them and then deep fry them. Then, we'd toss them w/cinnamon sugar w/a pinch of cayenne and dip them into chocolate-orange chocolate sauce. I dare anyone to throw those on the floor in disgust lol

[beth]

churros y chocolate was my first spanish text too!

[Tammy]

beth: Que bueno! They unwittingly raised a generation of churros-loving gringos.

Jenni: You're right, it's absolutely like choux paste. Those curly cues sound riquisimo. And thanks for the freezing tip--I never would have thought of that!

Jess: El presente es lo mas importante. El pasado no importa y el futuro no puedes predecir. Bien hecho! P.S. I'm with you on the cayenne. Next time.

Lisa: That photo is amazing. I can't imagine how good a churro would taste in Mexico. May this year's source be just as good.

Kristin: I'm so glad you enjoyed the family recipe posts. I had fun writing them. There's never a dull moment with Italians. I hope you enjoy the rest of your Taza chocolate in liquid form. I think that was the best hot chocolate I've ever had. It made our Ghirardelli cocoa taste like dirty dishwater.

[houllie]

too bad that I am not one of your neighbors!!

[sarabeth]

I took French but I was jealous of all my friends who took Spanish and got to use that book! I always thought they sounded so yummy... I've never been to Spain or Mexico (probably because I took French, duh) so maybe now I should finally try making them myself. Thanks for your fun blog--
sarabeth in somerville