For those of you who are unfamiliar with the man, Arnold Palmer was a professional golfer, Hertz Rent-a-Car pitchman, and possessor of a trouser snake so enormous it had a deranged old man obsessing about it for weeks.
Mr. Palmer was so famous, in fact, he had a beverage named after him, just like Shirley Temple. Or Tío Pepe.
For those of you unfamiliar with the drink, an Arnold Palmer is made from one part lemonade, and one part iced tea. Traditionally, the lemonade is added first, poured over ice until it reaches half way up the glass. Iced tea is then gently introduced on top of the lemonade, resulting in a refreshing, layered beverage. Some drinkers prefer to mix the two by slowly stirring them together with a straw, while others like to violently plunge the straw into the glass again and again until the lemonade and ice tea bleed into each other. This was rumored to be the preferred method of his fellow Hertz spokesman, who derived his nickname from a different citrusy potation, orange juice.
This idea of taking two perfectly good beverages and throwing them into the same glass has not always been met with the same success as the Arnold Palmer. In the 1970s, the higher-ups at ABC Television did their best to sell Americans on the idea of milk & Pepsi, by way of the popular Happy Days spinoff, Laverne & Shirley. The fact that this drink did not become a national trend remains high on my gratitude list every Thanksgiving.
For those of you unfamiliar with Arnold Palmiers, they are flaky puff pastry treats delicately flavored with Earl Grey tea and lemon. I’m going to assume that none of you are familiar with them, because I totally made them up, and am very much shocked that no one got there before me.
The Arnold Palmier
I really do find it hard to believe that Arnold Palmiers had yet to exist on the internet.
Their flavor is as subtle as a golf clap, which is intentional. To make them as bold as golf pants would be too much for one's mouth to bear.
Makes 22 to 24 Arnold Palmiers, depending on how good you are at measuring.
Ingredients:
• One sheet of puff pastry, thawed. If you prefer to make your own, do not look to me for advice
• ⅔ cup of sugar (I use superfine)
• 5 Earl Grey tea bags
• The zest of 4 lemons, finely chopped (I don’t recommend Meyer lemons)
Preparation:
Heat your oven to 400ºF. Line a baking sheet with either a silicone baking mat or parchment paper and keep handy.
Cut open the tea bags and empty the tea into a sieve and sprinkle onto the sugar. Stir until well combined and set aside. If you’re a good planner, do this a day in advance, so the tea has time to perfume the sugar. This is a nice touch, but not absolutely necessary.
When the puff pastry is thawed enough to unfold without tearing, place a sheet of parchment paper (about 18 inches) onto a clean countertop, sprinkle lightly with some of the Earl Grey sugar, then gently unfold the pastry until flat.
Cover the top side of the dough with a generous sprinkling of the sugar, gently run a rolling pin over the sugared dough to help said sugar adhere to the pastry, and evenly distribute the lemon zest over the whole surface. Gently pat the zest into the dough with cool, dry (and clean) hands.
Fold each edge half way to the center of your pastry, then fold each side again until the two sides meet in the middle. Feel free to add more sugar at this point, if that pleases you. Now make one last fold, as though you were closing a book. There are multiple ways to fold palmiers. This just happens to be my favorite way. If you need a little extra direction, the internet is a powerful tool, so I suggest you get to searching.
My favorite way to fold a palmier. Sprinkle a little more sugar over the top, gently lift the parchment paper (with the dough still upon it) onto a cookie sheet or sheet pan, and freeze until firm (roughly 10 minutes).
Take your creation out of the freezer, and carefully lift the parchment off your baking sheet and onto the counter. With a sharp knife, slice the dough into ½” thick pieces. Dip each side into the tea sugar, then return to the baking sheet, which should now be lined with a silicone pad, more parchment paper, or some other medium which will prevent your palmiers from sticking. The nonstick liner used in the photo above, I liberated from the set of one of Jacques Pépin’s cooking shows, because he was an asshole. Repeat until there are 8 cookies evenly spaced on the tray. Return the rest of the dough to the freezer until ready for use.
Place your palmier-laden baking sheet onto the center rack of your oven and bake for about 18 to 20 minutes, turning the sheet once at about minute 10. You will know your Arnold Palmiers are done when they turn a light golden brown on top and a tiny pool of caramelized sugar will start bubbling up from their bottoms. Some people like to flip them over in the middle of baking, but I could not be bothered.
Remove your little treats from the oven, let them rest for a minute or two until the caramel on the bottom firms up, then transfer them to a cooling rack carefully with a spatula. You really don’t want to burn your delicate fingers with molten sugar.
Serve your Arnold Palmiers with tea or milk or whatever beverage you feel like. Serve them with vodka*, for all I care. Just please don’t serve them with an Arnold Palmer because the poor things will be overwhelmed and there goes another hour of your life down the toilet.
I really don't care how you serve them, as long as you do it the same day as they're baked. They're marvelous in their heyday, but a little sad to think about when they’re past their prime.
*An Arnold Palmer with a generous amount of vodka added to it is called a John Daly, another professional golfer. In theory, John Daly could quite theoretically drink himself to death, which would be awful since he is a recovering alcoholic. The namers of drinks are a very cruel bunch.
I shall roll mine into phallus shapes in honor of their namesake.
What a perfect recipe and memory trail for the day.
I think I need a John Daly with my late bfast today.