Galette de Rois

The Frenchie cafe where I work has just stopped making Galette de Rois for the year, and officially, the holiday season is over. When I lived in Ann Arbor, our family friend, Claudette, used to throw a Twelfth Night party every year. Around Christmas time we would receive a delicate hand painted or block print invitation in the mail calling us forth to celebrate Twelfth Night in the beginning of January, a commemoration of the adoration of the Magi, and the twelfth night of Christmas, January 6. Because the crowd was always an artsy one, we were all instructed to bring twelve little things to contribute to the kitty. I remember staying up late making a set of twelve matching bottle cap magnets. Other people would bring twelve buttons, twelve beads, twelve stamps. When we arrived we would reveal our little trucs, arranging them gingerly on the piano, and before the end of the night you would go to the piano and marvel at the collection, carefully choosing twelve different treasures to take home.

There was always wonderful food at this party as well-- one year Claudette made tamales (the first tamales I ever had, oddly enough), or sometimes there was Hoppin' John to bring good fortune in the New Year. It was a non-Christmas Christmas party, something to look forward to, a bench mark that meant the holidays were over and we could now get on with things: a cozy release into the new year.

This year, looking over the beautiful puff pastry tops of the Galettes at my cafe I couldn't resist the urge to throw a Twelfth Night party of my own. A cake you only eat once a year? How can you RESIST making one? Plus there is the cute little ceramic figurine inside. The person who bites the piece of cake that holds the figurine is named king and gets to pick his queen by dropping the trinket in her wine glass....or the "king" has to buy his friends a round of drinks...or he gets to kiss the cook, depending on whose version you play by.

The cake was a huge success and it is the easiest thing to make: you simply cut a round of puff pastry, place it in the bottom of a spring form pan, lather on some frangipane (I learned from a trusted source that all there is to frangipane is sugar, an egg, and of course plenty of almond paste) and then rest another round of puff pastry on top. The Galette cooks at 350 until the top is nice and lightly browned, and then you can dust some confectioner's sugar once it is popped out on to a serving plate. Oh! And don't forget to include the surprise! I nestled a little lamb in the frangipan, which Edward found, and then promptly chose Leah to be his queen.

The party was held on such short notice we didn't feel we could obligate our guests to come up with twelve dancing princesses, or twelve reindeer, or even a measly twelve marbles, but we did manage to consume our share of beans in a terrific chili (did you know the secret ingredient is cocoa powder? I didn't until Connie let me in on the goods) so we can all look forward to a year which will rain pennies of wealth.