Prologue – the puff pastry Like a discreet prelude, the puff pastry is prepared in silence. Let it expand with its infinite layers, reminiscent of a fugue where each fold delicately responds to the other. You can make it yourself for a perfect result or opt for ready-made puff pastry, ensuring a well-risen and crispy texture.
Act I – The almond cream: A soft melody
In a bowl, mix the softened butter and powdered sugar until smooth and creamy. Like a musical motif, the addition of eggs one by one enhances this cream, while the almond powder structures the whole. A few notes of rum and vanilla subtly enhance this melody without ever overpowering. It’s a perfect harmony with delicate nuances.
Act II – The assembly: A careful composition
Roll out the first sheet of pastry on a baking tray, then gently place the almond cream in the center, avoiding the edges. The charm is hidden here, like a hidden motif in a musical score. Place the second sheet on top and carefully seal the edges. Using the tip of a knife, draw light motifs on the surface without pressing too hard, like a light musical ornament, just enough to enhance the appearance without overloading it.
Act III – The glaze or the importance of ornamentation
Gently brush the cake with the egg yolk-milk mixture so that it shines under the oven light, like a stage illuminated just before the musicians’ entrance.
Act IV – (as often, the act of hell…!) The baking in crescendo
Bake at 200°C for 10 minutes, then lower the temperature to 180°C for another 20 to 25 minutes. Keep a close eye on the baking: the puff pastry should rise like a crisp orchestral surge, golden but not overly so, revealing an invisible score.
Act V: The conclusion: We “draw the King”
Cut the cake into 8. Invite the spectators, the youngest hides backstage and assigns each portion to a guest. Whoever bites into the charm becomes the Queen or King for a day and wears their crown!
Bon appétit, or should I say bravo for this little pastry masterpiece, which, like a piece by Rameau, is appreciated in all its delicacy but never fully reveals itself at once.
This tradition has nothing to do with Christianity but rather dates back to Roman times, in homage to the Saturnalia, celebrations that honored Saturn, the god of time and the sun.
During these celebrations, a meal was shared between masters and slaves. A charm (a bean) was hidden in a cake, whose round and golden appearance symbolized the sun. Whoever found the charm became the “Prince of Saturnalia” and could have whatever they wished for a day, becoming king for a day.
The charm was one of the symbols of the winter solstice because it’s the first vegetable to sprout in the spring. Additionally, the bean brings life when it germinates, making it a very important vegetable for the Greeks and Romans.
The custom of electing the king is also attested from the 14th century; the King was then required to buy a round of drinks at the table, hence the phrase “the king drinks.” But some stingy kings who wanted to avoid paying the general round would swallow the charm. To prevent cheating, it was replaced by a small piece of porcelain. (Source: culturezvous.com ©Antoine Vitek)
