Questions We Hear Most Often About Home Baking at the Saigon Counter

Around two in the afternoon, if I see someone hesitating on the other side of the counter, it usually means they have a question. Before I can even set down the éclair in my hand, a small voice reaches me: "Excuse me, I baked choux at home, but why did they deflate?" I like that voice. It means they tried making something.

Today, I want to write down the questions I've heard over and over at that counter through the years, and how I usually answer them.

My choux puffs rose and then collapsed

This is by far the most common question. Eight out of ten times, it's because the oven door was opened too early. Choux pastry rises because the steam inside pushes the shell outward, and if you open the door before the shell has set firmly enough, the internal pressure escapes and it caves in. I made the same mistake when I was in pastry school. The humid air of Ho Chi Minh City rushing in every time I opened the oven was markedly different from when I was learning in Paris.

Here's what I recommend. Start at a high temperature (usually above 200°C) to puff the dough up quickly, then lower the temperature and give the shell plenty of time to dry out. Throughout that entire process, do not open the oven door. You need to hold out for at least 25 minutes. Patience, I genuinely believe, is the essential skill of choux.

Can I make croissants with Vietnamese butter

This question has come up a lot more in recent years. For laminated dough, dough where butter is folded in to create layers, the plasticity of the butter really matters. European butter has a high fat content (usually over 82 percent), so it can be rolled out thin without breaking apart. Some of the butters commonly found in Vietnamese markets have a high moisture content, so during folding the butter can seep into the dough and the layers may blur together.

Does that mean you can't use it? Not necessarily. I use French butter at the shop, but when practising at home I've gotten quite decent results with Vietnamese butter. The key is temperature control. Before you begin, place the butter between sheets of plastic and pound it with a rolling pin to make it pliable, but the moment the surface gets slick enough to look glossy, put it back in the fridge straight away. Because Ho Chi Minh City is hot year-round, you have to make these fridge round trips far more often than you would in Europe. I give the dough at least 30 minutes of refrigerated rest after each fold. In midsummer, I've had the butter start running even with the air conditioner set to its lowest temperature.

The recipe calls for cake flour, but can I use all-purpose flour

Yes, in most cases. The all-purpose flour easily found in Vietnam (bột mì đa dụng) has a protein content of roughly 10 percent, and it works just fine for things like cakes and muffins. If you want a really light, delicate sponge, you can mix in a little cornstarch to bring down the protein ratio. For about 130 grams of flour, replacing around 20 grams with cornstarch gets you close to cake flour. Whenever I talk about this at the counter, I always recommend a kitchen scale. Cup measurements can vary a lot depending on how firmly you pack the flour, so especially for beginners, a scale is the most reliable friend you can have.

Other things whispered in small voices at the counter

"Can I use refrigerated eggs straight away?" It depends on the batter, but when whipping meringue, room-temperature eggs whip up much better. I take them out an hour before I need them.

"Do I really have to use vanilla extract instead of vanilla essence?" The flavour is different. Extract gives a deeper, rounder aroma, but if you buy extract at a baking supply shop in Ho Chi Minh City, a small bottle can cost over 150,000 VND, so starting with essence is perfectly fine. Once you notice the difference in flavour, it's not too late to switch then.

"I set the oven temperature exactly as the recipe says, so why is everything burning?" Home ovens often differ between the displayed temperature and the actual temperature. Buy an oven thermometer and hang it inside. It will change your world. When I first got the oven for my own shop, it ran 15 degrees hotter than the set temperature, and I spent days burning the tops of my tarts.

There's no need to feel embarrassed when you come to ask a question. Customers sometimes blush when they tell me their choux deflated, but I think the attempt itself is already something remarkable. Hands that have touched dough always know more than eyes that have only read a recipe.