Homemade Nutella Recipe. Christie Matheson | Cake Simple | Chronicle, 2011 The One and I first went to Paris on December 30, 1993, to ring in the New Year.
As a couple, we were barely three months old, so everything we did was met with our mutual smiles and contented, self-satisfied sighs. It was as if no other couple had ever taken a picture on the Pont Neuf, strolled through the Tuileries, scratched their heads over the surprisingly miniscule size of the Mona Lisa, or eaten a Nutella-filled crêpe in the street. When the street cart crêpier tossed his chin out to us, his way of asking what kind of crêpe we wanted, I hesitated.
Ever since seventh grade, when I began studying French, I’d dreamed about biting into a crêpe, à la the dogs in “Lady and The Tramp,” with The One. If ignorance is bliss and love is blind, then falling in love in Paris makes you a blind idiot. Then this recipe came along. Wounded, I gave the remainder of the homemade Nutella to Annie, my assistant. LC Deliver Me From Temptation...
Homemade Nutella. Many years ago I worked in a restaurant in New York with a group of other cooks, who were mostly women and we were all friends.
We’d gather in the cold morning kitchen, working around a communal wooden counter near the warm stove armed with cups of strong coffee as we set about our various tasks while engaging in conversations while doing all the repetitive work of chopping the piles of vegetables we used for soups, salads, and other things that we were going to prepare the rest of the day. One woman, who I’ll call Mary Smith (and who, for some reason, we all called her by her complete name, “Mary Smith”, rather than just “Mary”), was bookish and almost librarian in her demeanor, and she was attending a local Ivy league institution, getting her doctorate in Russian and Russian studies. She worked very efficiently with no unnecessary movements, and always had perfect posture, like a ballerina, along with pristine skin and straight brown hair pulled sharply back in a tight ponytail.
Homemade Nutella. I am kind of freaking out at the moment.
In a good way. Freaking out because I have a ton of posts lined up, and I want to show them all to you NOW. I sat at my computer this morning, downing coffee and staring at all of my unpublished image folders, contemplating which one to choose. Should I sneak some syrup from one of the three shrubs that are steeping in my pantry at the moment, and photograph it before the season has passed for its star fruit?
Or should I snap some pictures of the recently bottled homemade version of everyone’s favorite spicy sauce? Was nutella something that you grew up with? I bought a jar the next chance I had. UPDATE: A reader has since informed me that American Nutella is, in fact, different from European Nutella! With the excitement suddenly crushed by unexpected disappointment, nutella and I parted ways. The hazelnuts were peeled and toasted with relative ease (thanks to this neat trick). Homemade Nutella (slightly adapted from The Kitchn)
Homemade Nutella.