Why we still mill our own praline
A short essay on the small kitchen jobs we have refused to outsource — and the noticeable difference they make in the cabinet.
Most independent bakeries our size have, at some point, considered buying their praline in. The wholesale jars are good. They are consistent. They save a person three hours a fortnight. We have looked at them twice and put the brochure back in the drawer both times.
The reason is not pride. It is texture. Praline you make yourself has a small variance in the grind that the jarred kind does not — some pieces are dust, some are still recognisably hazelnut. When you fold it into a sponge, that variance is the thing that makes a person stop talking mid-bite.
What we still do by hand
A short list of the kitchen jobs we have kept in the room:
- Praline. Hazelnuts roasted until they smell like a forest, caramel cooked to one shade darker than amber, milled on the day we use it.
- Vanilla extract. Madagascan beans split into a bottle of vodka, left in a cool corner for six months. Cheaper than buying. Better than buying.
- Caramel. Slow cooked in a wide pan, not a thermomix. Watched, not programmed.
- Buttercream. Whipped fresh every morning at 7am. Never made the day before.
- Sponges. Mixed by hand for cakes under 10 inches — the structure is finer than a machine batter.
What we are happy to buy
We are not romantics about every job. Flour comes from a Victorian mill. Butter from a small co-op outside Bendigo. Free-range eggs from one farmer who delivers Tuesday mornings. The integrity is in choosing the producer well, not in pretending to be one.
The honest reason
The honest reason we keep the hand-work is that it is the part of the day the team enjoys most. Milling praline on a Tuesday afternoon with the radio on is what a bakery is supposed to feel like. It is the difference between a kitchen and a factory.
And in the cabinet, you can taste it. Not as a fact you could prove on a spec sheet — as a small honesty that the slice and the eater share.