Milk and Cookies

Good Living Pyrmont Grower's Market: July 2008

2008-07-07T01:39:00.004+10:00

Every morning it's a fight, for someone who counts sleeping as one of her main fortes, it not easy getting up to go to the markets early on a lazy Saturday morning. Even when I am completely aware that the rewards of going to the markets far outweigh sleeping in till midday, somehow this rationale doesn't seem sensible enough when still tucked in the confines of a toasty bed.

But this weekend was different, seeing as this Saturday would be my last opportunity to visit to the Good Living Grower's Markets at Pyrmont Bay Park before I head overseas, I mustered up just enough coherence to pry myself from the snug confines of my bed. Slowly but surely, thoughts of what spoils could be gained from an early visit to the markets, began to ease me into waking life.

Most of the usual fare and wares were on show with the exception of a new beef stand peddling their gourmet sausages (which was quite good) and from my cloudy recollection a new jam/preserves stand. But other than that the markets consisted of familiar faces I have now come to know at the grower's markets, although notably absent was our favourite Gympie Farm jersey cow butter people. It was quite a downer, as we had run out of their butter for months and was looking forward to purchasing a new tub to spread on my La Tartine pumpkin loaf.

But aside from that minor disappointment, the markets were nothing short of a veritable feast and after an hour and three bags full of shopping later, we knew we had to call it a day lest we suffer scoliosis of the spine from carrying the not so orthopedic friendly biodegradable eco-bags. Good for the earth, not so good on your back.

One acquisition I am particularly excited about and would happily exchange the rest of my bounty for is a Testun di Pecora con foglie di castagne from Formaggi Ocello. At $120/kilo, it's not bargain, so we only bought a tiny sliver or this cheese could easily eat up at most of our market budget. This testun di pecora is a sheep's milk cheese covered in chestnut leaves and aged for 28 months. That's over 2 years of developing it's taste and it really shows in the cheese. Now I'm no cheese expert so I won't go into the nitty-gritty, but the cheese is surprisingly flavoursome, with hints of piquancy and sweetness, compared to other pecorinos which can be bland and subtle in taste.

Come back later for a look at the this pricey little piece of dairy but for now have a look at how our morning at the markets went down.

Forgotten Something?

2008-06-27T11:29:00.003+10:00

Forgetting a birthday- be it your partner's, your mother's or your best friend's, it's a cardinal sin. And whenever it happens, the guilty is always the worthy recipient of scorn and derision, and usually, what's coming to the accused is always warranted. Birthdays are important things, and should be celebrated accordingly- with festivity, and whenever possible with lots of food and alcohol. But what happens when you forget your own birthday?

Well, it's not exactly my own birthday that I have forgotten; now that would almost be equivalent to suffering retrograde amnesia, but it's actually the blog's birthday that I have neglected to remember. It's true, Milk and Cookies turned 2 years old, a good 8 weeks ago, and the momentous occasion almost passed by without so much as a mere mention or acknowledging it with a hip-hip-hooray and a little rendition of "for he's a jolly good fellow". Shame on me! Perhaps I was too distracted by my up-coming travel plans.

Born on the 2nd of May 2006, how could I forget that (slightly embarrassing) pioneer post that kicked off the whole odyssey into baking and eating? And the only way to exonerate one's self from the embarrassment and shame of forgetting their own blog's birthday is to make a cake celebratory enough to compensate for the indiscretion. Yes, for any baker, cake is the answer to most of life's quandaries.

I had always wanted to bake one of the celebration cakes featured in Dorie Greenspan's book Baking From My Home to Yours. But I've always had this aversion towards seemingly complicated cakes, especially layer cakes that looked so labour intensive. They look all great and majestic in the pictures; tiers and tiers of scrumptious layers towering towards cake heaven but ten mixing bowls and several whisks later you find yourself knee-deep in batter you no longer have the will to bake.

I'm more one of those 10 items or less chicks, nothing complicated, no fuss, no mess. I usually don't go for recipes with so many steps that include beating, melting, sifting, whisking, folding, sprinkling and a lot of waiting around for things to bake then cool and settle before you go on to the next step. Call me the impatient baker but I'm all for simple desserts; that's probably why you see so many small cakes on this blog. They're quick to bake, and the quicker they come of the oven the quicker I can get to eating them.

In saying this, my curiosity was getting the better of me and I was imagining what it would actually be like to be the architect of one of these tower of Babel constructions. It's mortifying to say but I think this has to be my first proper attempt at a layer cake. Be it a cake of only two layers, but a layer cake nonetheless. And all this time I had the audacity to call myself a baker, tsk tsk. There goes my reputation.

Also, I figured that going through the whole process of making this layer cake would be the only penance that could justify my wrongdoing. After all the blog has treated me so well over the past two years, it was the least I could do for such an oversight. So off I went, on my day off work to make a cake worthy of forgiveness.

There's not much I can say about this cake that you wouldn't already gather from looking at it. It looks delicious and it tasted just like it looked. The cake is all Dorie, except for the cream filling. I just thought that there needed to be something to soften the richness of the chocolate cake and the cream does this really well. There's also much to be said about my frosting skills (or lack of it) with the blank patches at the bottom edges of the cake, but hey, for my first reluctant hand at this I think the blog and I can finally move forward and put this whole thing behind us.

This cake is dedicated to the blog and to another great year of blogging. And with the blog going into a new chapter in the next coming months it's only fitting to set-off the move to London with this cake, I guess making layer cakes aren't all that bad (as she takes another forkful to her mouth).

And a big thank you to all the well wishers who voiced their delight and excitement about my up-coming move to the United Kingdom, I cannot wait.

Cocoa-Buttermilk Birthday Cake
Serves 12
Adapted from Baking From My Home to Yours

FOR THE CAKE
2 cups all-purpose flour
½ cup unsweetened cocoa powder
½ tsp baking powder
½ tsp baking soda
½ tsp salt
225g unsalted butter, at room temperature
1½ cup sugar
2 large eggs
2 egg yolks
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 cup buttermilk
110g bittersweet chocolate, melted and cooled (optional)

FOR THE CHOCOLATE MALT BUTTERCREAM
150g bittersweet chocolate, chopped coarsely
¼ cup (packed) brown sugar
2 tbsp malted milk powder
1 tbsp unsweetened cocoa powder
¼ cup boiling water
180g unsalted butter, at room temperature
pinch of salt
½ tsp vanilla extract
1½ cup confectioner’s sugar

FOR THE CREAM FILLING
200ml pure cream
2 tbsp confectioner’s sugar

Preheat oven to 180ºC.
Butter 2 x 22cm round springform cake tins, dust the insides with flour and line the bottoms with parchment paper.

MAKING THE CAKE
Whisk together flour, cocoa, baking powder, baking soda and salt.
Using a stand mixer with paddle attachment or hand mixer in a large bowl; beat the butter on medium speed until soft and creamy.
Add the sugar and beat for 2 minutes.
Add eggs one at a time, then yolks, beating 1 minute after each addition.
Beat in vanilla extract.
Reduce mixer speed and add the dry ingredients alternatively with buttermilk, staring and ending with dry ingredients. Mix only until each new batch is blended into batter.
Add the melted chocolate and fold in with rubber spatula (optional).
Divide batter between two cake tins.
Bake for 26-30 minutes or until cakes feel springy to the touch and start to pull away from the sides of the tins.
Transfer cakes to racks and cool for 5 minutes.
Run a knife around the sides of the cakes and unmould. Peel off parchment paper and invert and cool to room temperature.

MAKING THE BUTTERCREAM
Melt the chocolate with half the brown sugar in a bowl set over a saucepan of simmering water. Remove from heat.
Whisk the malt powder and cocoa together in a small bowl, pour over 3 tsp boiling water and whisk until smooth.
Gradually whisk in hot malt-cocoa mixture with melted chocolate- it should be dark smooth and glossy. Set aside.
Beat butter until soft and fluffy and add the remaining sugar and beat for another 2-3 minutes, until well blended.
Beat in salt and vanilla.
Scrape in chocolate mixture and mix until smooth.
Gradually add the confectioner’s sugar and beat for a couple of minutes, then add the remaining tablespoon of boiling water and beat until well blended.
It should be thick enough to use immediately. If it doesn’t hold its shape then beat it a just a bit more.

MAKING THE FILLING
Whisk cream into stiff peaks, it should be able to hold its shape properly.
Sift in confectioners sugar and fold into cream.

ASSEMBLING THE CAKE
Place one layer top side up on a cardboard round or a cake plate protected by strips of parchment paper.
Spread the top of this layer with cream filling.
Cover with second layer.
Frost the sides and top of the cake either smoothing buttercream for a sleek look of using a spatula, knife of spoon to swirl for more exuberant look.
Refrigerate the cake for at least 1 hour to set the frosting then bring it to room temperature before serving.

We Interrupt this Blog with a News Flash...

2008-06-13T17:07:00.006+10:00

You might not have noticed but posts have been particularly sparse on the blog lately, and it partly has something to do with the little announcement that I am making on the blog today. The news flash, might be exciting for some, or not so much for others but either which way there are no doubt still many food possibilities that lie ahead on the blogging front. So don't worry, I'm not going to turn into a knitting blog or anything. Not that I dislike knitting blogs but it's just that I don't know how to knit, not even a sock puppet, or a scarf, so I say stick to what you know.

Well, eating is what I know, and food, especially those of the sugary persuasion will still be the focus of the blog, and really nothing will change except for my location. So let's see if you can guess where Milk and Cookies is headed to this August for two years? The clue is in this dish.

Guessed it yet? I'm pretty sure this clue is a dead give away. So indeed, it's true, to the possible dismay of many Londoners, I am going to the land of the eternal pub crawl or at least I hope it is, and will be checking out what the city has to offer in terms of food.

Hey, maybe I'll run into Jamie Oliver at the Borough Markets and ask him why my banana and honey bread more resembled baseballs rather than bread rolls. But I'd much rather run into Rick Stein any day, I love how he's such and advocate for British food and produce no matter how much of a bad rap it gets. Too bad he won't have Chalky with him though, that dog was the shiz.

But there you have it, I'm on my way to the northern hemisphere, I'm doubtful about how it compares to its southern counterpart, but I guess it's home for a couple of years.

So I'm sure you don't need a recipe to make bangers and mash, but here's one for the onion gravy that I pinched from Jane and Jeremy Strode of Bistrode.

Onion Gravy
makes about one-half cup

100g unsalted butter
1 tsp brown sugar
2 medium onions, sliced thinly
1 tsp red wine vinegar
200ml beef stock
sea salt
fresh cracked black pepper

Melt butter in a heavy-based saucepan over low heat.
Add sugar and onions.
Cook slowly until caramelised, about 30 minutes.
Add vinegar and cook for another five minutes.
Add stock and season with salt and pepper and simmer for 15 minutes until sauce has thickened.

O Blogger Where Art Thou?

2008-06-01T18:00:00.005+10:00

Call it a hiatus or call it indolence, call it whatever you want but all I know is that it has been far too long. 5 weeks in fact. It escapes me how I managed to fall off the blogosphere for so long, but I did. And although I'd love to say that I have been trekking on camel-back through the sub-Saharan desert, or navigating icy waters with Greenpeace thwarting harpoon attacks on orcas, there's no such story to tell.

I have been able to do a few photo shoots for publications that will be out later this year (more on that closer to the release date), and taking on a few other things bigger than my plate will allow, but other than that I haven't been doing much at all, well nothing noteworthy or blog-worthy that is. There are a few developments that I will be announcing in a couple of weeks but aside from the ordinary shenanigans that occur in daily life, it's been business as usual, minus the fact that I have managed to circumvent any chronicling of my eating and baking activities on the blog.

I have to say that I haven't been in the groove lately, my mojo for baking hasn't dried up but it seems to have gone astray, or at least into a narcoleptic state. I guess the past few weeks the blog has been going through it's own existential crisis, asking the why am I here, and what am I doing with myself questions. Especially, in light of the world's current state, it's becoming harder and harder to find the real relevance of food blogging. With over half of the world unable to meet peoples' basic nutritional needs, is it really pertinent to be writing about food in such banal and trifling tones?

And this by no means is intended to condemn anyone who loves to eat and eat well, hey, I'm in that group of people too. And although I haven't had the urge to bake and write about food for a few weeks, it's safe to say that my appetite for eating remains insatiable. I guess speaking sincerely, this is what has been going on the blog for a few weeks now, just a quiet reflection on the reason why I blog. And it's naive to think that any one thing is going to solve world hunger, and this post is nothing about that.

Like many of you reading, I love eating, I love food, I love taking photos of my food and I love blogging about it, and I don't think we should stop this discourse on account of those who cannot engage in it. No one should feel remorse for the pursuit of their passions, but I guess my point is that after a little self-reflection, I don't consider this passion mere trite, but I have come to realise that this space we have to write and share about food is a privilege.

So I'm sorry to get all metaphysical on you.

It happens sometimes, when I have too much time on my hands. But if you came here for a recipe, then a recipe you shall get. This is definitely one for those who have some time on their hands as it takes a whopping 3 days to complete.

I've been cooking a heap of recipes from the Australian Gourmet Traveller website lately. I'm obsessed with poring through their archives, gazing with green-eyed envy at the spectacular food photography and styling, wishing I could only emulate their splendidness. I came across this recipe for parfait, and was enamoured by the photograph. I didn't even know what exactly a parfait was, except for what I had learned about it from Donkey on Shrek- which was that parfaits had layers and you'd be a fool not to love one.

So armed with that knowledge I decided it was high time I find out why this dessert was so perfect. If the French couldn't find a better way to describe the dish than to just call it perfect, then I don't know what else could be better. Now 3 days is a long time to find out why a dessert is exceptionally good. I was tempted to just go find a patisserie and get one just so I didn't have to wait so long. And I guess if you are really the impatient kind and cannot bear 3 days of torture, then you can probably just wait overnight. Nonetheless, this isn't your quickie dessert.

"You know what else everybody likes? Parfaits. Have you ever met a person, you say, "Let's get some parfait," they say, "Hell no, I don't like no parfait"? Parfaits are delicious."
-Donkey

But, if your patience can endure the stretch long enough to wait for this dessert to come into perfection then you won't be sorry. The reward is a the velvety rich texture of white chocolate espresso cream sandwiched between a crunchy hazelnut meringue, dripping in a topping of espresso caramel sauce. If that's not how you describe perfection then I stand corrected, but I'm pretty sure this is as close to perfection as you can get.

The recipe can be a little fiddly, and with all the steps of having to leave mixtures in the refrigerator and freezer overnight, it can test your patience. But the pay-off far exceeds the trouble you have to go. My parfait isn't as pretty as the one on the Gourmet Traveller website, but I bet it tastes just as good. And I must warn, this dessert only lasts as long as your appetite will allow, and in our case, we polished off the whole thing in less time it took to write this post.

White chocolate-espresso parfait sandwiches
Serves 8-12
Adapted from Australian Gourmet Traveller

NOTE: You will need to begin this recipe 2 days ahead.

600ml pouring cream
25ml espresso coffee
3 pieces of lemon peel
330g white chocolate, coarsely chopped

FOR THE HAZELNUT MERINGUE
4 egg whites
110g (½ cup) caster sugar
110g (2/3 cup) icing sugar, sieved
50g ground hazelnuts
20g Dutch-process cocoa, sieved

FOR THE ESPRESSO CARAMEL
150g caster sugar
75g maple syrup
1 tbsp espresso coffee
40g butter, coarsely chopped

Combine cream, coffee and peel in a saucepan, bring just to the boil over medium-high heat, strain over chocolate in a bowl and whisk until smooth.
Cool, whisking occasionally so chocolate doesn’t separate from cream, to room temperature, then refrigerate overnight.
The next day, whisk chocolate mixture until soft peaks form.

MAKING THE MERINGUES
Preheat oven to 100ºC.
Using an electric mixer, whisk eggwhites and a pinch of salt until soft peaks form.
With motor running, gradually add caster sugar; whisk until glossy.
Using a metal spoon, fold in icing sugar, hazelnut and cocoa.
Trace 2 rectangles using a 20cm x 30cm cake pan as a template onto baking paper-lined oven trays. Spread meringue evenly onto rectangles; bake for 40 minutes or until crisp. Cool on trays.

MAKING THE CARAMEL
For caramel, combine sugar, maple syrup and ¼ cup water in a small saucepan and stir over medium heat until sugar dissolves.
Increase heat to medium-high and cook for 3-5minutes or until syrup thickens.
Remove from heat, add espresso, swirl to combine.
Add butter, swirl to incorporate, then cool.

Place a meringue rectangle, trimming edges to fit, into a 20cm x 30cm baking paper-lined cake pan.
Drizzle with half the espresso caramel, top with white chocolate mixture and drizzle with remaining espresso caramel.
Top with remaining meringue and freeze overnight.
Remove, cut into squares using a wet sharp knife and serve immediately.

Keeping the Home Fires Burning

2008-04-26T05:50:00.002+10:00

We just got through day 13. I'm suffering from umbrella fatigue. Yes, it's been the 13th day of continuous rain in Sydney; from drought to drenching, the pendulum does swing both ways. And I guess now it's official, autumn is here, and I have to say a begrudging thank you for making it so obvious that you've arrived. Say hello to soaked hems, muddy feet and one constantly wet dog. I'll just try to think of it as one less bath I have to give him.

I know posting on the blog has been quite scanty of late, must be that crisp autumn air forcing me into hibernation. But the advantage of this is that my motivation for baking grows even the more as the weather gets colder. Keeping those oven fires burning is one way of staving off the chills.

Sydney houses, are notoriously known for not being able to stand up to the colder months. Many overseas friends living here who come from much colder climes always gripe about the inadequate amount of insulation in our houses. And coupled with the lack of central heating in most homes, it makes the winter months even more unbearable.

Our comparably mild winter probably doesn't warrant builders making houses with central heating a standard thing, but no matter where you're from cold is cold, especially at 6am when the dread of getting out of bed to take a shower overcomes you. I guess keeping the oven on is one way to get around this minor setback.

I made these cakes earlier this month but decided to give it an encore appearance at around day 7 of our marathon rainfest, while holed up at home just watching the spate of storms come and go. It was either build an ark or bake a cake and seeing as I was sitting on a pile of passionfruit, I made some cakes. If I was going to go down in a deluge, I might as well go down with cake.

With my priorities in the right place, I spent the better part of a day baking. With no central heating in our house, Jack (the dog) and I spent the rainy afternoon in front of the blazing oven, our makeshift fireplace. I'm sure he spends his time loitering around the oven just in case a rouge piece of food happens to accidentally fall out and magically land in his strategically poised mouth. He's quite the optimist, but it's still nice to have his company, no matter what the motives. He likes to think of himself as the sous chef, although most of the time he's more like the cleaner, mopping up spilled ingredients. He doesn't mind.

Right now, passionfruits are ubiquitous, so there's every reason for you to buy a whole lot. Here in Sydney we get the smaller round and wrinkled variety that have that distinct deep purple colour. They look quite strange and unassuming on the outside, and they weigh almost nothing but once you cut through that purple woody exterior there's a wonderfully rich and intensely brilliant daffodil yellow pulp inside.

By itself the pulp can be a little too tart to eat, but ripple a few spoonfuls through some vanilla ice cream or yoghurt and you have yourself a killer dessert. And if you are familiar with the Australian picnic staple, the pavlova, then you know that it's the passionfruit that gives it its bite.

The cakes are actually lime flavoured, but only subtlety. The passionfruit syrup is what gives the cake its kick. And like many other tangy fruits, a little bit of sugar takes this a dish a long way and livens it up a bit more. Add a dollop of whipped cream and you have all the insulation you need to get through a rainy day.

Baby Lime Cakes with Passionfruit syrup and cream
Serves 10
Recipe from Australian Gourmet Traveller

FOR THE LIME CAKES
125g soft butter
165g (¾ cup) caster sugar
2 tbsp finely grated lime rind
3 eggs
120g (½ cup) sour cream or plain yoghurt
150g (1 cup) self-raising flour

PASSIONFRUIT SYRUP
110g (½ cup) caster sugar
80ml (1/3 cup) lime juice
3 passionfruit, pulp only

PASSIONFRUIT CREAM
300ml thickened cream
1 passionfruit, pulp only (optional)
30g pure icing sugar, sieved

Preheat oven to 170ºC.
Beat butter, sugar and rind using an electric mixer until light and fluffy, add eggs and beat to combine, then add sour cream or yoghurt and beat to combine.
Fold in flour, then spoon mixture among 8 greased and floured 150ml-capacity dariole moulds and bake for 15 minutes or until golden.

Cool for 5 minutes then turn onto a wire rack to cool completely.
For syrup, combine all ingredients and ¼ cup water in a small saucepan and stir over medium-high heat until sugar dissolves, then bring to the boil and simmer for 10 minutes or until syrupy. Makes about 1 cup.

For cream, combine ingredients and whisk until soft peaks form.
Refrigerate until required.
To serve, pour half the warm syrup over cool cakes and serve with passionfruit cream and extra syrup passed separately.

Weekend

2008-04-20T20:08:00.004+10:00

Don't be alarmed, I am still alive. Although, I've been experiencing the giddy highs related to the consumption of too many Adriano Zumbo pastries.

As cramped and as hole-in-the-wall his shop may be, people flock and people queue, in single file, just to be able to get to the front of the line to tell that person behind the immaculately styled glass counter what fares you are after. Usually it's a little piece of this and that, or perhaps a splurge on a decadent Zumbo dessert or a handful of macaroons if your budget will still allow.

Walk too fast and you will almost miss it, that narrow, unassuming little piece of real estate on Balmain's Darling St. Walk too slw and you might not get there in time as the place is almost always cleaned out before close. You might be stuck with a quiche or a plain brioche if your not hasty, not that these aren't worthy, but the real spectacle are his speciality desserts, tarts and macaroons that change every now and then. The stuff way down the back of the shop, that's what the mob's all after.

I've long been touting Balmain as a food lover's mecca, pastries, breads, butchers, cafes and gourmet stores line it's main street and it's a wonder why they have only just decided to capitalise on all its gastronomic potential. I could literally eat my way through Darling St, and this week you are actually encouraged to. The Balmain Rozelle Food Week starts tomorrow the 21st of April until the 27th of April, so if you are lucky enough to be in Sydney, then head over down Victoria Rd or over the Anzac bridge and make your way down Darling St, sampling the finest fare these providores have to offer.

If you are interested in this event then download the whole program by clicking here.

And in case you were wondering what I got from Adriano Zumbo, there were the mandarin and chocolate macaroons. Worth their weight in edible gold leaf, oh boy were they good! And a Miss Marple, which is a crepe shaped into a cup filled with mascarpone creme, strawberries, oranges and some Grand Marnier topped with a glorious sugar lid. It's art you can eat.

Have a great week guys and and I hope to be back blogging with something almost as delicious very soon.

Getting Seriously Stoned

2008-04-08T21:24:00.001+10:00

There's been a chill in the air of late. Autumn is well and truly here and although summer may well be done and dusted, some of it's late harvest has decided to stick around for a farewell party. Yes, stone fruits are something to look forward to come summer, but there's always enough left behind to tide you over till the beginning of autumn. In a last ditch effort to relive summer days, I suggest getting stoned.

Of course I'm not talking about sparking up a doobie and getting fried, but rather enjoying the last that summer has to offer in its stone fruits. I'm having summer weather withdrawals right now, seeing that we never really got to have a proper one on the east coast. So this was my way of sparking up some lost memories of summer.

And really, what's a summer without a peach? The quintessential image of biting into a ripe one, its juice dripping from the corners of your mouth, can make up for all the lucklustre weather we have had for months. They said it was going to last till March and it certainly did, and it looks like we just sailed right into autumn without even the slightest bump. Maybe the odd lightning crash and tree on falling on one's roof, but other than that, as far as I'm concerned we've been in autumn since December.

So this is my long overdue swan song for the summer we never had- almond cakes topped with roasted peaches. There's only one way to bid her farewell and it's with the best she had to offer. So rosy blushed peaches was an appropriate choice for a goodbye offering.

I actually made this a few weeks back, although never had time to blog about them for a while. I found the peaches at the Entertainment Quarter Farmer's markets going for a song and couldn't pass them up. Then I happened upon a recipe for Almond cakes with roasted apricots on the Australian Gourmet Traveller website, and you know when you see a recipe that you simply must have right now, well that sheer impulse overcame me and I was bent on making this that very same day. I'm sure the droolworthy photograph on the AGT website helped in stoking the urge for them right away.

Seeing as I didn't have apricots but had a heap of cheap peaches lying around, well, you know what I did. When life gives you peaches, you can decide to make a cake.

Peaches, like many other stone fruits, roast very well and there's very little you can do to improve on its flavour. So you might as well stick to the basics, a little sugar and little bit of booze and you have yourself a top notch dessert. It's amazing what wine does to a syrup. The booze of choice for this fare was a Seppelt Rutherglen Tokay that we bought on our last trip to the Hunter Valley- a sweet, honey flavoured dessert wine that was ideal for a fruit based dessert.

I have to say that the almond cakes didn't turn out as dark as they were pictured on the website, so I was a little worried I had made a mistake. But after tasting the cakes, there wasn't anything to worry about. Not sure why there was a lack of colour, but at least it wasn't lacking on taste. Two thumbs up for this recipe and perhaps a better and less illegal way of getting stoned.

Almond cakes with roast Peaches and orange blossom fool
Serves 6
Adapted from Australian Gourmet Traveller

SPECIAL EQUIPMENT: blowtorch (optional)

110g (½ cup) raw caster sugar
1 vanilla bean, seeds scraped
8 peaches, halved, stones removed
4 pieces of orange rind, removed with a peeler
80ml (1/3 cup) dessert wine
1 tbsp orange juice
3 tsp orange blossom water
300g crème fraîche
30g brown sugar, sieved

FOR THE ALMOND CAKES
120g (¾ cup) pure icing sugar, sieved
50g almond meal
35g plain all-purpose flour
¼ tsp baking powder
2 tbsp finely grated orange rind
2 eggwhites, lightly whisked
90g butter, melted and cooled

Preheat oven to 200ºC.
Using a blowtorch, scorch the peach skins until they blister. They should peel off easily.
Combine sugar and vanilla seeds in a bowl and scatter over the base of a roasting pan large enough to hold peaches snugly.
Place peaches, cut-side down, in a single layer in pan, pressing into sugar.
Turn peaches and scatter over orange rind.
Combine wine, orange juice and 2 tsp orange blossom water in a jug and pour around apricots.
Roast for 10 minutes or until just tender and golden.
Set aside to cool, then, using a slotted spoon, remove 4 peach halves from syrup and process using a food processor until smooth. Set aside.

MAKING ALMOND CAKES
For almond cakes, reduce oven to 170ºC.
Combine dry ingredients and rind in a bowl, add eggwhite and fold through until just combined.
Add butter, stir to combine, then divide among six shallow pie moulds, smooth tops and bake for 15 minutes or until golden and centre springs back when lightly pressed with a fingertip.
Cool in pans for 5 minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack placed over a tray.
Spoon a little apricot syrup over cakes and cool completely.

Combine crème fraîche, brown sugar and remaining orange blossom water in a bowl and whisk until thick and smooth. Fold through apricot purée to form a ripple effect. Top each cake with 2 apricot halves and a generous dollop of fool. Serve with syrup to the side.

Trolling around Thainatown

2008-03-28T23:37:00.002+11:00

I rarely ever do restaurant reviews on this blog as there are so many other blogs that do it so much better. Not one to impose on already well trodden territory I steer away from reviews not only for the latter reason, but simply because I don't eat out nearly as often enough as other bloggers who do reviews. Oh yes, and I'm unable to take a decent photo inside a restaurant for the life of me.

Reviews in my opinion are so relative and mostly based on comparisons from previous experiences and tastes of certain cuisine. I don't think I have gathered enough food mileage to be able to be an expert in anything. But sometimes in a serendipitous, fluky way, you happen to have your camera when you go out for a casual lunch and next thing you know, you are taking a photo of ever dish.

I may not be an authority on most cuisines, but I think I have eaten at enough Thai restaurants and eateries to be able to gather an opinion about the food. And I have to say that although there's an abundance of Thai places in Sydney, the bad far outweighs the good. Thai cuisine is usually marked by its depth of flavour; the beautiful cohesion of taste sensations and textures. It's usually a splendid symphony of sweet, sour, spicy and herby, put together with such harmony. There simply are too many Thai restaurants serving bland and watered down versions of the real thing.

Simply put, when the menu says, "this dish is very spicy", I want the dish to deliver on its promise. I want it to be flaming hot enough for me to be able to breath fire afterwards. There are just too many renditions of seemingly spicy dishes that just aren't that spicy at all. If my brow isn't sweating, then you really haven't done your job. And I'm not even one of those people with high levels of tolerance for capsaicin.

Which brings me to Chat Thai. Chat Thai is a little bit of an anomaly, as in that even in the midst of a million other Thai eateries in that part of Pitt St which has been affectionately coined Thainatown, there is always a line of people outise waiting to get in, even at 11:30pm. Spoilt for choice in the midst of Thainatown, there is something about Chat Thai that people are willing to wait in line, outside, sometimes in the cold and rain.

Some say that it's usually the most dubious looking eateries that are the most authentic and the best priced, and to some extent this has been proved correct. This however cannot be further from the truth when it comes to Chat Thai. Although a handful of their dishes take a short detour from the original, the flavours are truly Thai at heart. And when they say spicy, they mean it.

The restaurant's interior can fool you, it doesn't look like a Thai restaurant that would serve traditional Thai fare, and serve it well. It looks more like an uppity bistro than an Asian eatery. But nothing could be further from the truth, it's just a plus that the place comes with soft mood-lighting, modern brown tables, rustic brick walls and to my surprise, friendly staff that make up for the wait you have to make for a table during peak hours, which can be up to an hour and a half.

To be honest, I cannot recall what we had that day. I was too engrossed in the eating part, that I forgot to remember the dishes for the blogging part. Hence the reason why I don't do reviews. All I remember is that there was a pad thai somewhere in the mix, a staple at any Thai place. And if they can't get a pad thai right, then there's really no point in wasting your time. But the heartening thing is their pad thai was good. Good enough that every last morsel was scraped off the plate.

So if anyone is in Sydney looking for a Thai place whose kitchen doesn't close at 10, then head over to Campbell St and put your name on the list for a table. If you come late enough, you won't have to wait that long. Chat Thai has several other locations around the city although I've only been to the one in Haymarket. Weirdly enough, it's the only one not featured on the website.

CHAT THAI
20 Campbell St
Haymarket, Sydney NSW
Phone: (02) 9211 1808
Open: 7 days 11am-2am

All The Way, With Carbs Today

2008-03-24T17:59:00.002+11:00

No matter how bad a rap carbs get, I'm still a staunch advocate for the stuff. How anyone could go on a diet deliberately eschewing the stuff is a mystery to me. Although for the sake of your hips, I do know how the formidable temptation of starch can be too much to bear. And sometimes under the weight of that incredible urge you give in. All the way.

I'm going through a pasta phase right now. And I've had it almost everyday this past week. If there ever was a fixation in my life right now, aside from the shopping thing of course, which probably is more gender-based than anything else, this pasta thing is probably it.

The Italians really knew how to do carbs- with their beautiful breads and pasta, they really knew how to throw a carb party. I know that there's some contention concerning the true the origins of pasta, but it's without myth or lore that the Italians were the ones who made pasta their own art form. Turning this dough of wheat and eggs into a myriad of shapes and forms. If there is an Italian nearby, I suggest you go and give them a kiss.

But enough with public displays of affection; did I mention I have also fostered an addiction to Eumundi Smokehouse sausages. I've mentioned it before, how I go ga-ga over their range of gourmet sausages and not to mention their chorizo. And although a kilo of the Russian Farmer's sausages will set you back over $30; it must be all that Vodka in it, there's no price you should put on good taste.

And you know a good thing when you smell it, as you enter their small shop in Dulwich Hill, you are hit by the aroma of spices and a curtain of smoked meat hanging from a bar suspended above the counter. Everywhere you look it's meat. And there's something to be admired about a butcher who doesn't hold back with the spices and the booze. I say the more the merrier.

Their products are all made of natural ingredients and contain no preservatives. So it's best to eat them as soon as you buy them, which is really nothing to complain about. The sausages I used for this pasta were their lamb merguez sausages, a combination of lamb, red wine, coriander, parsley, pepper, mint and chilli. When fried, it exudes a perfume that rouses the palate and gets any carnivore's attention.

And why not put the two loves together, pasta and sausages. It's simple gourmet, and I'm sure country folk everywhere tending to pasturelands in the back of nowhere have been enjoying the staple of pasta and sausages for a long time wouldn't even bat an eyelid at this dish, but it's classics like these that never go wrong. I'm not sure if an Italian would call this dish a real classic, but it's simple enough with pasta, sausages, tomatoes and a splash of white wine thrown in for good measure.

I can't think of a better way to relieve those autumn cravings for comfort than with a classic pasta dish. You can use pretty much any shape you want, I like slurping my way through it, so linguine was the way to go, but if you prefer the pasta without the loud, sloppy sucking then penne or rigatoni would do just as well.

EUMUNDI SMOKEHOUSE
402 New Canterbury Road,
Dulwich Hill, NSW
Phone: (02) 95690205
Opening Hours: Thur-Fri 11am to 6pm; Sat 7am to 2pm

Their products are also available at a number of gourmet farmers markets and gourmet food stores. Contact Eumundi for more stockists.

Sausage and Capsicum Linguine
Serves 4
Adapted from Australian Gourmet Traveller

6 (750g) sausages, skins removed and chopped into 4cm slices
1 red capsicum
3 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
1 onion, diced
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 small red chilli, finely chopped
50g (1⁄4 cup) tomato paste
50ml dry white wine
1 can (400g) crushed tomatoes
sea salt
½ cup coarsely chopped flat-leaf parsley
500g dried linguine
freshly grated parmesan, to serve

Roast the capsicum in a preheated oven at 220ºC for 20 minutes.
Remove from oven and peel skin off.
Deseed and cut capsicum into 2cm-wide strips.
Heat the olive oil in a large frying pan, add sausages and cook over medium heat, turning, for 5 minutes or until golden. Transfer sausages to a bowl.
Add onion and garlic and sauté over low-medium heat for 3 minutes or until softened, add chilli and sauté for another 2 minutes.
Add tomato paste and stir for 5 minutes or until sauce thickens, then add sausage, capsicum and white wine and cook for 2 minutes, stirring to coat sausages and reducing liquid by half.
Add tomatoes, season to taste with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, then simmer for 10 minutes or until sauce is thick.
Stir through parsley.

Meanwhile, cook linguine in a large saucepan of boiling salted water until al dente.
Drain and transfer linguine to the frying pan and combine with sauce.
Divide sauced linguine among plates and top with any remaining sauce from frying pan and serve with parmesan.

Hit and miss: Martha makes good, then goes bad, Part II

2008-03-12T18:10:00.005+11:00

This post is the part where she goes bad.

If you haven't read the little disclaimer at the beginning of the previous post, then I suggest you do. Just in case any Martha zealots out there decide that they need to defend her honour down to the last perfectly clove-dotted glazed ham and immaculately pressed apron. I know that a lot of you who have been defending Martha think I'm an absolute retard that is incapable of following a recipe, but I'm willing to overlook that.

If my problem is a matter of comprehension, then I admit, I am an idiot. But when parts of the recipe are missing, or there are omitted ingredients and inaccurate instructions, then I would like to know who the idiot really is? Her recipes can be at times lacking and at other times convoluted to the point of ridiculous. For someone who wants to make it easy for everyone to be able to cook and bake, she does a horrible job of it. And it seems that I'm not the only one who feels unanimously about the hit and miss factor in Martha's recipes.

This recipe is a little different in its degree if suckiness in that, it hasn't failed to include any vital instructions or ingredients, everything in the recipe was there, except for the flavour. It appears that Smitten Kitchen's Deb, also had the same problem with the recipe and many of the commenters on the Martha website feel the same way. I decided to make my own go of it, just to make sure their sentiments were in fact true, and lo and behold- the pretzels are as bland as cardboard.

And when I say they are like cardboard, this is no attempt at euphemism, they are literally as flavourless as paper. There isn't a hint of chocolate in these pretzels, and be careful not to over-bake them even the slightest amount, as they will turn into volcanic rocks- flavourless volcanic rocks. A bitter disappointment when the recipe is introduced as the "sweet versions of the salty snack".

Oh Martha, Oh Martha. How do you get away with this? How do you continue to publish such rubbish without even checking them first? But the good news is that, were not all doomed to never have the sweet taste of chocolate pretzels on our lips, someone did do their homework and came up with a chocolate pretzel recipe that works. Rivka of Not Derby Pie has redeemed us all with her version of choc pretzels that is proven to work and most importantly taste like chocolate.

Check out the better version here.

The version I have posted below is the original Martha version, just because this is the one I used to make the pretzels pictured above. But I actually would not suggest making them unless you are willing to make some changes. Better yet, just click over to Rivka's recipe and have all the work done for you!

Chocolate Pretzels
Recipe from Martha.com
Makes 24 small pretzels

¼ cup unsweetened Dutch-process cocoa powder
1 tsp good-quality instant espresso powder
3 tbsps boiling water
110g (½-cup) unsalted butter, softened
¼ cup granulated sugar
1 tsp pure vanilla extract
½ tsp coarse salt
1 large egg
2 cups plain all-purpose flour
1 large egg yolk
coarse sugar (like demarara or pearl) for sprinkling

Stir cocoa and espresso powders into the boiling water in a small bowl until dissolved; set aside.
Meanwhile, put butter and granulated sugar in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment; mix on medium speed until creamy.
Mix in vanilla and salt.
Reduce speed to medium-low.
Mix in egg, then cocoa mixture.
Gradually add flour, and mix until a smooth dough forms.
Turn out onto a piece of plastic; pat into a square.
Wrap dough, and refrigerate until cold, about 30 minutes.

Divide dough into 24 equal pieces.
Roll into balls. Shape balls into 12-inch-long ropes.
Twist each rope into a pretzel shape. Space 1 inch apart on baking sheets lined with parchment paper.
Preheat oven to 160ºC.
Whisk egg yolk with 1 tsp water in a small bowl.
Brush cookies with egg wash; sprinkle with sanding sugar.
Bake cookies, rotating sheets halfway through, until dry, about 15-20 minutes, depending on the size of you pretzels.
Let cool on sheets on wire racks.

NOTE: Cookies can be stored in airtight containers at room temperature up to 1 week.

Hit and miss: Martha makes good, then goes bad, Part I

2008-03-03T14:14:00.000+11:00

First of all, I would like to preface the next two posts with a reminder that everything said on this blog are my own personal views and judgements. We all have them, they are called opinions, everyone's entitled to one. And in the free world that we live in I don't think anyone should get nasty comments or emails when you do not agree with the personal statements made by another person. I'm all up for healthy, civil discussions, but if you want to get all spiteful and bitchy then may I suggest you call Ricki Lake or Maury.

Now that's been said let's get back to our normal programming...

There it goes again, that precarious thing that teeters to and fro on a delicately balanced see-saw of emotions- that is my relationship with Martha's recipes. That see-saw teeters more so on the side of loathe rather than love but my disdain for Martha is not at all unfounded. For lack of a more gracious way of saying this, frankly some of her recipes suck.

Thankfully not all of them suck and thankfully for you, you won't have to be reading a tirade of Martha gibes today. No, I'm saving that for the next post, hoorah for free speech! Anyway, let's not get sidetracked. Here is another Martha recipe that has worked for me. Brilliantly in fact, it almost seemed unnatural to call it a Martha recipe. I must have a knack for picking all the dud recipes on her website and now am too paranoid to spend any money on of her cookbooks.

I would like to think that the recipes in her published books would be more fool-proof and complete, in comparison to the ones featured on her website. It seems that the uptake of recipes on the website is prodigious, although is a little light on the copy-editing and corrections. Most recipes are lacking important instructions and missing ingredients.

But, I did pledge an optimistic post on Martha today and here it is, her recipe for Molasses Sandwich cookies. They were a hit with everyone at a picnic we had earlier. The only thing I would fault is that the cookies are way too sweet. I mean wa-aaaay too sweet. The cookies are pretty sweet on their own but when sandwiched with a molasses filling in between, the sugar levels and diabetes inducing properties soar way beyond appropriate.

There's enough sweet in these babies to cause permanent tooth decay. So I would suggest reducing the sugar in the cookies by half and reducing the amount of actual filling by half also. That is what I did second time around and even then, the cookies aren't lacking in sugar. I think the presence of the molasses actually brings out the sweetness of the sugar even more, so I would err on the side of caution and ease up with the saccharine.

But with the right amount of sweetness, these sandwich cookies are the perfect thing to take with you to a picnic or a party. Your fellow pickinickers or party goers will thank you for bringing the party along with you. As these things have enough sugar to liven up any deadbeat gathering and will have guests potentially hanging off the chandeliers or perhaps doing a nudie run through the park. Now who wouldn't bake these just to see that?

So there you have it, another successful Martha recipe, this is the part in the title where Martha makes good. I've had a bigger share of misses than hits with her, although not documented on this blog, but this does take the hit tally up one.

Although coming up next: why there's more hate for Martha again than there is love. This is the part where she goes bad.

Molasses Sandwich Cookies
adapted from Martha.commakes 30 cookies

NOTE: this is the modified version using half the sugar from the original recipe. If you want to try the original, then just double to sugar for the cookies and double the ingredients for the filling.

1½ cups plain all-purpose flour
½ tsp baking soda
1 tsp ground cinnamon
½ tsp salt
½ cup packed light-brown muscovado sugar
110g (½-cup) unsalted butter, room temperature
1 large egg
¼ cup unsulfured molasses

FOR THE CREAMY MOLASSES FILLING
75g softened unsalted butter
1½ tbsp unsulfured molasses
1 cup icing (confectioner’s) sugar

Preheat oven to 180ºC.
In a small bowl, whisk together flour, baking soda, cinnamon, and salt; set aside.
In a large bowl, with an electric mixer, beat sugar and butter until combined.
Beat in egg, then molasses, until smooth.
On low speed, gradually add flour mixture until a dough forms.
Drop rounded measuring teaspoonfuls of dough onto two ungreased (or parchment-lined) baking sheets, about 4cm (1½-inch) apart.
Bake until centres are dry to the touch, 12 to 15 minutes; rotate pans from top to bottom and front to back halfway through.
Cool 1 minute on baking sheets; then transfer to a rack to cool completely.

MAKING CREAMY MOLASSES FILLING
Whisk butter with molasses until smooth.
Gradually whisk in icing sugar, until smooth and spreadable.
Makes about 1 cup.

Spread a rounded measuring teaspoonful of Creamy Molasses Filling on the flat side of a cookie; place another cookie on top, and gently press.
Repeat until all cookies are filled.
NOTE: Cookies can be stored in an airtight container at room temperature up to 1 day, or refrigerate up to 3 days (cookies may soften during refrigeration).

From Feet to Sweet

2008-02-26T16:00:00.004+11:00

Hello... It's been a while, hasn't it.

They say it takes a village to raise a child but I think the same applies to many other things. Like how the past couple of weeks has taught me that it does indeed take a village and a half to get your friends married off successfully. I will think again, very carefully, before I play match-maker and set up two friends lest I endure the back-breaking labour of being a bridesmaid all over again.

Of course, I only quip about the taxing effort that goes into helping a friend plan a wedding, it's no doubt laborious but being a bridesmaid for a precious friend is always a barrel of laughs and I wouldn't trade all the tuile and chiffon in the world for it.

But now that all the festivities are done and dusted, all that is left to do is catch up on much needed sleep and get back into the routine of normal life- with say normal thngs like blogging. Yes, the fact that I had a blog completely eluded me all this time while I was up to my knees in questions like "Is this green too green, or does this pink look like a dusty rose, or a vintage rose?" And all you had to tide you over with, all this time was a post on my mediocre madeleines that stunk of feet. I'm sorry.

I did promise a madeleine recipe to follow that wasn't so odourous and rank as the ones before and here it is. I made these a while back as an attempt at re-creating the apple and cinnamon madeleines I tried at the markets by Manna From Heaven- an Australian handmade biscuit company that believes in using only quality ingredients. To this day I am still yet to taste a better madeleine. They are extremely moist and delicately sweet and smell incredibly unlike feet! Manna From Heaven only make these madeleines in limited numbers and only during autumn/winter. So you have to be quick to catch them or else they are pretty much gone before you have enough time to take a whiff.

I don't know exactly how Rachel- MFH's founder, gets the madelines to be so moist, but they are incredibly irresistible. From what I gather, traditionally, madeleines are quite dry cakes and are made moist when dipped into or eaten with tea. An example of what I would say are traditional madeleines are Adriano Zumbo's madeleines which almost demands you to have a drink ready in your hand before you choke on the little cakes that stick to the roof of your mouth.

I would have to say that Manna From Heaven's apple and cinnamon madeleines are a welcome departure from the traditional. Although Adriano Zumbo's madeleines, and pretty much everything else in the Balmain store are nothing short of a masterpiece, but when you don't have a spare drink lying around I would probably opt for the moister kind.

I have to say that re-creating a recipe from memory is not an easy thing. I pulled together all my madeleine recipes and tried to build my own using the techniques and measurements from them all. My version of the apple and cinnamon madeleines is nothing near the exquisiteness of Manna From Heaven's, although it is still delicious. Slightly moist and aromatic, there is nothing better for an afternoon snack.

Next time, I might try using a little bit more melted butter and apple puree to get a wetter batter. I am not sure if this will work, bit baking in the name of research isn't such a bad thing, is it?

Apple and Cinnamon Madeleines
makes 24 madeleines

150g plain all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp ground cinnamon
100g unsalted butter, softened (plus more for greasing)
50g light muscovado sugar
75g caster sugar
2 eggs, lightly whisked
½ cup pureed apples
granulated sugar for coating

Preheat oven to 180ºC.
Brush madeleine moulds with butter.
In a small bowl sift together flour, baking powder and ground cinnamon, set aside.
Cream butter and sugars in another bowl until light and creamy.
Add eggs and apple puree and beat until combined.
Sift in flour mixture and fold until the flour has been incorporated into the wet mixture.
Place a heaped teaspoonful of the mixture in each mould and bake for 8-10 minutes or until the tops are golden.
Remove from oven and cool for 5 minutes in tray.
Unmould and lightly coat madeleines with granulated sugar.