Modern MAKEOVER
Updated Asian spices, matcha and ganache give the traditional French dessert bûche de Noël — yule log — a new look and taste
“Bûche it” was the title of the YouTube video I stumbled upon during my research of bûche de Noël (yule log).
The quick-paced montage, assembled by Paris By Mouth, an online authority on the Parisian food scene, flashed through exciting new adaptations of the holiday tradition created by famous French patisseries.
Among them were teardropshaped sculptures by Fauchon resembling neither yuletide nor logs — one of the furthest departures was a saucy, leopard-print number by pastry chain Eric Kayser, giving Jingle Bell Rock a whole new meaning.
And if you are a gen-Xer like myself, the pinnacle of the video’s creative genius was not a pastry at all, but its soundtrack: Push It by 1980s-era hip-hop girl group Salt-N-Pepa.
Animal print aside, there seems to be an active yule log revolution happening right under Rudolph’s nose. Considering that its origins date back to premedieval times, it’s no surprise the log has seen more than a few iterations.
It began as a ritual to welcome the coming of warmer seasons at winter solstice, or yule. Early Germanic tribes would burn an enormous log decorated with aromatics such as pine cones and holly, and some sources cite the addition of salt and wine. The tradition was adopted as a Christmas custom and afterwards replaced by the edible version in the late 19th century when wood-burning hearths were either too small or increasingly uncommon.
The cake remained unchanged for many decades. Genoise and buttercream, typically flavoured with chocolate or coffee, were rolled to form a roulade log, with the ends cut on angles and reattached to form branches, dusted with cocoa, and sugar and meringue mushrooms classically adorned the plate. Since, an evolution of bûche de Noël decorations have ranged from kitschy plastic holly to marzipan Santas sitting on cake stumps.
After casually querying a handful of French friends, feelings on the yule log ranged from sentimental to those akin to the average North American’s thoughts about fruitcake.
Turkey-like memories of patriarchs carving a slice for each guest came to mind, and childhood winters spent in the kitchen rolling airy pistachio genoise and scoring bark patterns into buttercreams, stealing meringue mushrooms and collecting festive plastic figurines to use for the following year’s bûche de Noël. And for those who didn’t care for the cake, a roll of the eyes and a nonchalant shrug.
But no matter the relationship, hot or cold, one thing was consistent: the bûche de Noël is more than a simple tradition at the holiday table, it remains a symbol of the season itself. No wonder pastry chefs are desperately trying to reinvent the holiday icon into anything but the bûche de Noël they’ve eaten their entire lives, adding fruit gélées and exotic flavours, updating the historic dessert in line with the modern palate.
Outside of France, inventive bûche de Noel can be found at Vancouver pastry shops such as coconut lime at Thomas Haas patisserie, Thierry Chocolate’s pistachio cherry and my personal favourite, the Mont Blanc, at Chez Christophe Chocolaterie Patisserie.
Following this tradition of innovation, I created a new version of the bûche de Noël, a spiced jasmine tea and milk chocolate variation inspired by recent travels to Asia.
And since this cake is infamous for being cumbersome to create and full of tricky pitfalls for the home baker, I made further adaptations to the recipe, streamlining the process and adding flavour and texture without losing its essence.
So let us honour the holiday spirit of Salt-N-Pepa past, dust off our seasonal baking skills, and “get up on this and bûche it real good.”