Blightless

In recent years culinarian adjectives are starting to sound more like poetry than food. "Passion, love, sensual, sexy, art, etc..." are heard so often they have become cliche. The line "its my passion," has been used so much that it means nothing to my ears. Food has become something abstract, and it seems to have lost touch with the primal instinct to live. Everything has to be an experience, something to remember, but it seems all these experiences just make me forget the basic reason for food... Sustenance.

If your reading this you probably think I'm full of shit and you are probably right. After all I pay my bills making fussy ass desserts that have more components than a stocking stuffer Lego set. I suppose I only feed the monster that makes me forget about food being the antidote for hunger. Our most recent menu made me reflect on a particular food that just may be the king of sustenance for our western world and much of Europe, the potato.

I always knew that it was responsible for feeding many hungry mouths and a cheap and delicious way to fill plates, but not that it was partially responsible for the industrial revolution. Evidently potatoes allowed humans to grow more calories per acre than any other food, and therefore gave us the energy to go to work. Enough on that subject, back to the fussy ass stuff.

So a potato predessert is one of the more difficult things i have had to come up in a while. The idea for this one is not mine at all, but one from Aki and Alex at "Ideas in Food". Grilled Potato Semifreddo with Lemongrass & Ice Wine Vinegar Foam and Crispy Maple Glazed Potato Skin

The dessert for this menu came from what I think to be the most popular potato dessert in the United States... Wendy's "Frosty and Fries"

Whole Wheat

My first whole wheat boule

Magic Shrooms

It isn't often that fungi find their way into my dessert palate, and even less frequent that they would be the centerpiece. While I find them to be a fun and distinctive flavor, it's usually just too weird for most diners to handle. So our "Mycologists Dream" menu put me in a corner and told me to mind my manners… or when you father comes home.

I do not consider myself a stranger to wild mushrooms and their different personalities, so I was fairly confident going into our menu meeting. Then we started tossing around names like; man on horseback, fried chicken, and a number of different boletus variations. Half of the mushrooms I had heard of, or eaten. The other half were mysterious and exciting for me try. We used 19 in all! The two I decided to work with were varietals that I had tasted before, but the Matsutake I had never used in a dessert.

The candy cap mushroom was used in the pre-dessert in combination with Bartlett pears, and lent their maple quality to the pears quite nicely.



The next dessert was one that I have been waiting to do for a long time, a very long time. MONKEY BREAD. My mom used to make this pull-a-part cinnamon roll variation for my siblings and I when we were small, and if I recall correctly she did it in a plastic bunt pan in the microwave. I still recall diving my dirty little hands into the center of the "bread" to snatch out the pieces that where the most under cooked. Looking across the table to see my sister dropping hers down the her shirt. Resulting in a sticky sugar line right down the front of her, that would later pick up the dry dusty clay soil in our front yard after a rainless July. She would no doubt wear that same damn shirt all day long and into a very late Ohio summer sunset. Without doubt my hands would still be dirty and smell of cinnamon as we ran around the yard to catch lightning bugs, and raising hell. I like monkey bread.

Well in the continuing saga that is my culinary driven life, I served the monkey bread with Matsutake Mushroom Ice Cream. Matsutakes have nice pine like aroma, so the stretch with cinnamon monkey bread wasn't an unrealistic one.

While I was happy to serve the beautiful mushrooms that the northwest has to offer, as it is one of the greatest places on Earth for delicious mushrooms. The real delight was for me to have a reason to be a kid once a night for three weeks straight, and find myself back in a stained white t-shirt. Back when food was fun, when food didn't matter after I swallowed it, and there were always plenty of lightning bugs.

Thanks to Claire Schneyman for the shroom pics!

It is far too often I find titles and positions in the food industry forcing chefs to pigeon hole themselves. Many think a given definition of position also gives a set list of ingredients in which to chose from, and a set stack of techniques from which to draw. Why is this? What makes a Chef a chef?

Is a chef one who produces course after course of umami rich mouth watering food only to toss the end of the game to the pastry chef? Why would she or he even need to think of the end of the meal, it's only the last thing the guest remembers. Pastry chefs are certainly the ones who move at a more methodical pace and produce desserts... right? Sometimes I find these ideals that we ourselves place upon our profession so frustrating. Most of us spend 14 hours under artificial lighting doing the same thing over and over, and many refuse to see a different prospective. Maybe it is the fear of change, or the idea of not following the rules or maybe it's not what the guest wants. Whatever our reason for staying on one side of line, it makes me realize one thing, Tunnel vision sucks.

I am not pushing for some drastic and daring collision of sweet and savory. Just an appreciation for the what other chefs (no matter pastry or savory) are doing every day. I have always thought that the savory side could benefit from the forethought that goes into a pastry menu. In the same sense most of us pastry chefs would do well to taste more often and be spontaneous every once in a while.

Random note… I sat down to type about mushrooms, and "Happy In the Kitchen" was next to the computer. A great example of an all encompassing culinary mind, and personal culinary hero, Michel Richard.

Pot

There is a unique driving force behind many of America's great kitchens. It isn't passion or obsession. It's not based on art or craft, and it has nothing to do with our grandmothers standing in front of a stove on thanksgiving. It has everything to do with coffee.

Gallon after gallon of this caffeinated life giving elixir is consumed by cooks and chefs to ensure that the first few hours of a 14 hour day are productive, and the last few hours of the day stay productive. I'm not talking the "cup of joe" when we get to work, it's nothing for a cook to consume a pot by themselves... in the first half of their day. I will gladly and proudly admit to an addiction to this energy crutch, and will continue to support it. Now don't tell me its not good for me. Without it most people wouldn't have any thing to do on a Saturday night.

Coffee, mmm......

To the Point

This site is usually a way for me to spill on about some deep connection that I have with the food that I make, or an inspirational point from which an idea was spawned. This post will not be that, it will be utilitarian and to the point. I will be posting on the past two menus that we have done "Indian Summer" and "Autumn Sketchbook". I will give some brief but descriptive dialog on each dish. I will then go have a glass of wine with my wife, and watch my cat do stupid things with a twist tie. Every now and then we should all do the same.

Autumn Sketchbook

Pre-dessert: Goat Yogurt Panna Cotta, Caramelized Holmquist Hazelnuts, Elephant Heart Plum.

This dessert was drawn from the plum and how damn pretty the puree was. Sometimes when someone goes to the trouble of growing something well, I feel it best to just present it with humility.

Dessert: Roasted Eggplant and Prune Cake, Bartlett Pear Sorbet, Pear Fritter, Rosemary Caramel Sauce

Playing with temperatures is something we as pastry chefs love to do, and that's exactly what I did here. Warm cake and fritter with frosty sorbet. The eggplant is an iconic summer ingredient and paired up with the dried plum, I thought it fit the idea of an Indian Summer quite nicely.

Autumn Sketchbook

Pre-Dessert: "Green Apple & Garden Sorrel" Sorbet, Foam, Salad, Chip, with a touch of Marigold

Bold, bright, straight forward, easy to understand, and dynamic. My favorite characteristics rolled into one. Once asked to describe my style of desserts I responded, "Simplicity through complexity". This dessert might finally back that up.

Dessert: Roasted and Glazed Sugar Pie Pumpkin, Butter Fried Cedar Bough Ice Cream, Butterscotch Pudding, Prosciutto Chips, and Virgin Pumpkin Oil

Frying cedar boughs in butter to release their aroma is something I learned while cooking salmon while I was camping. It seemed to tone down the resin and release a floral aroma. The pumpkins were from our farm and perfect. I am so damn tired of pumpkin tasting like clove, ginger, and cinnamon. So we went a different route, roasting, chilling, portioning, and glazing with brown sugar and butter to order (although the one in the picture is caramelised with a blow torch, we later changed it to glazing in a pan). I ate a couple pieces of pumpkin each night, and yes nostalgia was there.

I promise to be more indepth with the next menu, we are making two desserts based on mushroom for Christ sake.

Bowerman at the BBQ

Barbecue is a noun, adjective and verb. For myself it is food that congers memories more than any other, allowing nostalgia to slip in and work its voodoo. Constant clouds of smoke, screaming neighbor kids, water balloon fights, chicken and chops, and friends all around. Looking back at those hot summer days tells me the food was not BBQ at all. It was simply grilled, but that really doesn't seem to matter. Little did my father know but the "Hobo Stew" that he made for large get-togethers in the fall, was a style of BBQ all his own (although not by traditional BBQ terms).

Hobo Stew was a delicious amalgamation of picnic ham, sausage, onion, apple, potato, carrot and anything else that made its way into the 7 gallon rectangular stainless steel pot that my father constructed. I can see it now perched between two grey cement cinder blocks on the corner of our back garden. A small fire built from the split winter wood in the shed, kept the the cauldron bubbling for hours to ensure the picnic ham would be finished before the rest of the ingredients were to be added. The stew would simmer slowly for so long that the clay rich soil under the glowing embers would bake and break, leaving remnants that looked like the aftermath of a potter's temper tantrum.

Where I am trying to go with this rant is that the idea of BBQ is a fun one for most of us, and this is something I really wanted to convey in the desserts for this menu. Rather than call each of our guests up and asking them what their memories of BBQ were, I decided to go with some of my own.

Watermelon and Popsicles are the summertime treats that I remember fondly. Watermelon straight from Dad's garden as sweet and natural as summer can taste. In the other corner was the popsicles... straight out of a plastic sleeve with more artificial flavor and color than one ever needs. Its funny how two dramatically different foods can evoke the same thought and emotion. So for our menu I decided on Lemon Verbena & Sweet Tea Popsicles with White Balsamic Dressed Watermelon.

Part two of the desserts is something fun that we have been playing around with in different forms...Waffles! Fresh peaches and waffles happen to be a guilty pleasure of mine, so it was only natural to put them on the menu so that I could eat the scraps. A couple of weeks before this menu we made some brioche waffles that were served warm with Foie Gras Torchon, and peaches. That dish gave a whole new meaning to my already existing obsession. This time around I used financier batter for the waffles resulting in an extraordinarily crisp texture after they cooled, and who the hell doesn't like brown butter waffles. We served them with grilled peaches, peach sorbet, huckleberry-Anise Hyssop syrup, and warm salted butter gelee. The warm butter gelee was something I toyed with at Okada, and was nice to revisit an old obstacle. This time around it came out successfully. We were able to warm it to around 130 degrees without it breaking.

What started out with a trip down memory lane ended in a fun BBQ menu in the Pacific Northwest.

Double Points if you can explain the title.

Century

Over twelve years have passed since the first time that I walked into a restaurant kitchen and they have all been progressively more interesting. Fledgling jitters gave way to youthful excitement in the earlier years. Those followed by an unwarranted arrogance which thankfully was slapped out of me by a great mentor. A man I will never be able to repay for the stern but gentle hand he used in educating me, and giving me a centered confidence only found in hard work. Shortly after being "schooled" I partook in an endeavor that would scare me shitless, still to this day I have never felt more fear in a kitchen than what the talented staff at Tribute placed inside me. After Tribute a brief stay in Las Vegas lead me to Michael Symon's Lola, and eventually to competing on Iron Chef America with him. Currently my home is in Washington and at The Herbfarm.

Now that I have crammed over a decade of my life into seven sentences, I will get to the point. To this point in my career the task of deciding the "100 mile" dinner menu, was one of the most difficult culinary specific jobs I have ever experienced. In all other menu planning ventures, I have gone in with the mind set of "What can we do?". This same question would become far more restrictive than ever, because most of the answers were "Nope, we can't do that".

Bread service had to be based on wild yeast only or unleavened breads all together. Also the flour we sourced had to be grown and milled with the 100 mile radius. The flour we used for the entire menu was from Nash's Organic Farm on the Olympic Peninsula. We went with a hard red wheat and a soft pastry flour for our menu. The hard red was used for one of our sourdoughs and was flat out delicious. The entire germ was ground into the flour which imparted a natural sweetness that makes me want a slice while typing.

Gluten free breads this week were interesting to say the least, and probably one of the single biggest challenges ("what the hell am I gonna do") of the entire menu. Often Rice flour, sorghum, or other non local flours are used to make up the bulk of non-gluten breads. As those were not an option, I decided to fall back on my good friend Mr. Potato. Not only does it share a slight resemblance to myself, but it also is a multifaceted jack of all trades in the kitchen. Two of the more interesting foods were gougeres from russet potato "pate au choux", and blue potato biscuits.One dinner service the blue potatoes also found their way into one of our sourdoughs for standard bread service. All of the potatoes used in bread service and anywhere else on the menu came straight from our farm a couple of miles down the river (that sentence was for legal purposes or at least it sounded like it).


I was told the Venturi Shoulze Vineyard on Vancouver Island makes a balsamic vinegar, but really Canadian balsamic? My first thought is that it must have notes of maple syrup, hockey puck rubber, and polite disposition. Then I tasted it, and thought "I am an ass". The stuff is OUTSTANDING! The nuances of all of the different barrels and woods come through so clear and clean, yet offer an awesome depth of flavor. So I took the easy way out on this one, and just kept things simple and made a sorbet with it. Along with the sorbet we served raspberries fresh from the farm vines and a jam made from heirloom tomatoes scented with rose geranium. As one regular taster noted, "A small bite, JAMpacked with flavor" pun intended.

Dessert number two found me breaking a promise that I had made to myself years ago. I promised that I would never have cake and butter cream on any of my menus, clearly I forgot how good baked goods with butter on them were. Though I would like to think that this one was no shortcut, as at this point all leavening agents were out the window. I wanted to make a cake that had some substance, some density, but that is a problem with just whipped whites. They do not have the strength to hold up to the shredded sugar beet and zucchini I wanted to use. So I thought and thought. Then went home and had a drink on my couch, and thought some more.

I decided to use a pate de bombe, a whipped whole egg mixture cooked and fortified with hot sugar. I figured the structure that the hot sugar provided would give me time to get it into the oven without losing air and avoid deflation while baking. The cake came out very moist and had a nice earthy note to it from the sugar beets. Pressed between the layers is a crème fraiche butter cream, which is probably closer to a crème fraiche mousse with butter in it. Overall I was satisfied with how it came out, defiantly distinctive. Its plated "racing stripe" style with goat's milk and bay leaf ice cream. The caramel sauce is scented with madrona, a native tree bark (think pipe tobacco in a cedar sauna, now think of it in a good way…). Simple black berries that were baked in a 350 convection oven for only 3 minutes were a minor revelation. They never reached the point of bursting but became softer, and their perfume was more pronounced than ever.

Petite fours were a bit more rustic than usual, due to the lack of chocolate, pectin, glucose, gelatin…. I am really getting sick of telling you about what we did not have at this point, and I am sure you are tired of hearing it. So here is what we did make for petite fours. Puget Summer Strawberry Fruit Leather, Rye-Rosemary Shortbread, Hazelnut Meringue Cookies, Frosted Wild Blue Berries, Yarrow Caramel.
One more week of the menu still remains, and I am sure by the end of it things will change. However I feel satisfied with where it began.

Day 1 of the "hundered"

Today was the first day of service for our 100 mile dinner, and it unveiled itself to be one of the most difficult culinary adventures I have partaken in. Ok finding produce and proteins is difficult enough, but let me put this into pastry technique terms...

Ingredients I cannot use: Baking Powder, Baking Soda, Instant Yeast, Gelatin, Agar, Xanthan, any grains Not milled locally, Sorbet Stabilizer, Ice Cream Stabilizer, Pectin, Citric Acid, Tartaric Acid, any fancy hydrocolloids of any kind.

I made a pate a bombe for a cake, not a mousse, a cake!

The Herbfarm Ingredients = 2π*100miles

The upcoming menu is our annual 100 mile dinner. Every bit of everything to be ingested and enjoyed by our guests must be found with in a 100 mile radius. Intimidating to say the least.

"Alex what are;" Rathbone, Hayden, Marceaux, Badley, Wolverton, of Caesarea, Saint's Cathedral, and Racuk.

Thai, Opal, Sweet, Bush, Lime, Lemon, Cinnamon, and Genovese were the stars of this week's menu. They were much easier to get onto the menu and into dishes, than the eight Basils mentioned in the title. Basil is not really a difficult reach for desserts, so we could really have fun with it. Its great perfume and clove like bite allow it to standout in a dish, while still playing well with others.


Not so long ago I recall competing on an episode of Iron Chef America in which basil was the secret ingredient. While I can't speak for Chef Clayton or Chef Symon, in my opinion it was one of our most difficult wins. Basil doesn't want to play nice, it gives up easy, doesn't respond well to heat, and bitches and moans if it doesn't get its way. While each of these basils have a common thread in base aroma, they have their own personality and all want to be heard. It's like a game of Pictionary at a sorority party.

Lucky for us Bill and Sally and the rest of the crew on our farm (all of whom do a fantastic job and we as chefs are beyond fortunate to work with), are bringing in a lot of beautiful produce. The one thing about gorgeous produce is you don't have to do much to it, just treat it well and with respect. It just so happens that basil likes the same attention, and last second usage. I posted recently about the "Tomato Patch" dish that Ben devised, a dish that was easy to understand, fun to eat, and beautiful.

The desserts for this menu were a mixture of something new for me, and one that was very familiar. The latter of which I'm sure my previous sous chef Liz (the current pastry chef of Lola, and doing a damn fine job) would be able to pick out of a lineup of twenty desserts.

The "pre" dessert evolved from an initial sorbet course utilizing Cinnamon Basil, into a tribute to The Herbfarm and to a reputation it had developed long before I was there. If it were not for such a reputation I may not be here now. It was a great honor to take note of a dessert tradition here and usher it into a new form for a new menu. Cinnamon Basil ice cream is a big deal around these parts, and I believe it found its way onto the original "Basil Banquet" menu in the form of an ice cream cone. I wanted to utilized this tradition, but fashion it in a way that would really complete a composed dessert. What's the next of kin to an Ice Cream cone? Well as any well versed 10 year old ice cream aficionado would tell you, an ice cream sandwich of course.

I didn't express this to any of my co-workers, but I was beyond happy with this dish. There is more of my childhood in this two ounce dessert than a chapter of writing could do justice. Seeing my father come in from the garden with zucs bigger than I was and remembering that my mother's favorite fruit is blueberry. Knowing that I always hated cake for my birthday, but loved ice cream, so why not have two options! And then there are the peaches, and I'm not telling you the story about them….

I love how much emotion can be evoked from food. Today I snagged a bite of a pork terrine that was served with our fifth course, and it sent me spinning back to my Grandma Barrett"s breakfast table. Sitting there with my Grandpa the scent of coffee in the air, and the taste of steel cut oats with chopped ham hock in it. The three of us sitting at a table watching the early morning news, deciding if it was a good day for me to go for a ride on the golf cart. Here I am in one of America's great restaurants choking back tears, all because of a fucking pork terrine. For so many years I said "It's not like we are saving lives here", and would scoff to myself. I'm now realizing we my just have the power to help someone remember there life, and I'll be damned if that is not just as important.


Damn... that was heavy.


Anyway on to the next dessert, and this one doesn't have the slightest bit to do with my past. It's steeped in basic pastry technique, and a new flavor combination (at least for me). On the last menu we did a sorrel ganache that I was excited to try, and really pleased with the results. So on this menu I decided to use lime basil in conjunction with the sorrel, and pair it with dark chocolate. The acid from the sorrel brightened the dish, and added a lovely green flavor. Toward the end of the menu the dish was garnished with wild trailing blackberries, which could possibly be the origin of the flavor "blue". They are astonishing little bursts of flavor, and I am so happy they have found their way into my pastry flavor palette. The plate was capped off with a touch of sorrel honey (from our own hives) as well.



Take home treats and mignardises where fun as well this week. Strawberry- Rose Geranium macaroons, cupcakes (financier), cinnamon basil caramels, and foccacia (that I partook in way too much of) made my list of favorites.

You Say...

Its not my dish, in fact I had nothing to do with this one. Ben Smart, a sous chef, cleverly put together a "Tomato Patch" for our basil banquet menu. While his inspirations were many, the dish is all his own.

"The Tomato Patch"
Heirloom tomatoes in four preparations: Jam, Confit, Partially Dehydrated, Blanched
Rye "Soil", Crispy Tomato Leaf, Olive Oil Powder, House Made Goat Cheese, Bush Basil, Fennel Flowers.

The Wright Way

"Where do you find inspiration" is a question that chefs are often asked, and I am sure that the variations in answers are as expansive as the question itself. I have always been of the mindset you do not find inspiration, it finds you. If you are in the proper open mindset anything can inspire. Flavors, cultures, other chefs, books, blogs, pictures, smells, all are obvious ones. The wind, landscape, soil, emotion, nature, a long run, your childhood, architecture, are not so obvious.

The last on there, architecture, has led me to an eternal man crush. A year and a half ago I visited Falling Water in Western Pennsylvania, from that point the visual style of my desserts has changed. The linear architecture paired with organic beauty reminded me so much of a perfectly plated dessert, I have still not able turned away from it. This inspiration is not to make light of the genius of Frank Lloyd Wright, but to praise it for being able to cross such drastic borders.

Thanks Frank.

Flock Together

The only sense of normalcy I have seem to achieve thus far has been found in the kitchen, my security blanket I suppose. While there is no doubt that it is my comfort zone, the mindset that I find in this new kitchen is one of exploration. The menu that I am writing of in this post is properly named "Of a Feather", and no it does not taste like chicken… actually the roasted chicken skin sauce did taste very much like chicken. I must admit I was a bit apprehensive when thinking of ways to involve fowl into desserts. There are always eggs and feather look-alike garnishes (hardly my thing). I wanted to evoke more out of the two desserts than just product usage and proper technique. I wanted the diner to have to stop, look at the damn dessert, and think HA! Whether we take them there through whimsy, humor, nostalgia, the "wow factor" or an overwhelming sense of Yum, it is our job as chefs to entertain our guests. Their palates, eyes, nose, memories, imagination, sense of adventure and always keep them smiling.
The ways that I have tried to do that in this menu speak for themselves. This theme was fun and tasty and a few chuckles heard in the dining room during pre-dessert helped me out a little in the search for normalcy and comfort. I find myself remembering that chefs need the guests as much as they need us. Not only for business sake, but to share in the sheer enjoyment of food.
I hope you enjoy.

Bread: Our pastry cook chance has taken full reign of the bread, and his skills are developing quickly. The culmination of his efforts last week came in a wood fire oven baked sourdough that could be sold at any fine bakery and they would be as proud to serve it as we were. To me the most amazing thing about this bread was the ability to tame two different extreme variables, wild yeast and fire. It is not a 450 degree electric controlled oven with instant yeast and Con-Agra flour! Its wood, fire, stone, water, flour, salt, and whatever yeast he could coax into joining the party.


Amuse: While pastries is not exactly responsible for the execution of the amuse, we did get a chance to lend a hand in some of the "vessels".


Candy Cap Mushroom Macaroon with Chicken liver Mousse and Summer Savory (the macaroons where made with duck egg whites)





Foie Gras "PB&J", Foie Gras Terrine, Strawberry-Rose Geranium Gelee, Hazelnut Butter and Brioche







The smallest loaf of brioche I have made to date.

Pre Dessert: Another interesting turn in this menu was how to incorporate fowl into the desserts without just using eggs. I have made a good number of desserts in brown egg shells, and while it was a delicious, amazing, fun to eat, and yes Chef (you know who you are) near perfect dessert, I wasn't looking forward to going down that route. Then Ron came into the pastry area and dropped of a bag of perfect little egg molds, within minutes Chris mentioned that apricots were coming into season, and a dish was made.


Apricot Coulis Dome

Mint Chocolate Bavarian with "Yolks"

Mint Chocolate Bavarian with Apricot Coulis, Corsican Mint, Apricot Poached in Whey-
Butterscotch

The butterscotch we made with whey (from the cheeses that we made here at the restaurant) was one of my favorite things about this dish. It was like dulce de leche meets a 1930's soda fountain… Latin influenced soda fountain, hmm????



Dessert: Just having moved to the area I was only slightly aware of the quality of the berries during this time of year… it's unreal. Raspberry, Strawberry(I used 4 different types on this menu), Saskatoon Berry, Golden Raspberry, Boysenberry, Tayberry, Blackberry, Blueberry, Red Currant, White Currant, Black Currant, Logan Berry. I wanted to use them all, but what should I do to highlight these berries, what can I do to make them better?
I took a step back, and decided to do nothing at all. Nightly the berries were portioned and placed into a warmer at 130 degrees and left for 20 minutes or until they reached warm water balloon doneness. Part of me just wanted to serve the berries and nothing else, they were that amazing. When we opened the warmer to remove the berries I heard on more than one occasion "it smells like a Pop-Tart out of the toaster," I'm not going to argue.

The warmed berries were served with duck egg yolk and lemon verbena ice cream, duck fat crumble, and flowering Chervil.

Small Treats:
Rosemary Chocolate Biscotti, Frosted White Currant, Milk Chocolate-Sorrel Ganache (more to come on this combo next menu) , Sage Hazelnut Sandies and Raspberry Sancho Pate de Fruit