July Daring Bakers Challenge---and the update

It's been a long time since I wrote anything of significance on this space. Do not fret, I am still here. But between testing recipes, figuring out the next move, and a myriad of other issues that have kept me awake at night, my nervous disposition notwithstanding, I just haven't found the time, or the mood, to post anything here. Although I do not have any good news to share with you yet---I am a firm believer of not counting my chickens before they hatch---what I do have is a few works in progress. I'm getting my logo designed by a friend/graphic designer, and I just can't wait for her to finish up the final drawing, colours and all. She's shown me a few sketches that she made so far, and I simply fell in love with all of them (T, you're amazing!). It's just like how I've always dreamed it, but a lot better.

I'm still in the middle of sending out applications to good markets around Melbourne---a task that was much harder and took way longer than I anticipated, much of it due to the bureaucracy imposed by the local council and market management---but I am working on a promising one which hopefully will not fall through.




I am Nervous. Scared. Excited. But mostly unsure. Unsure of whether or not this would work. Unsure of whether or not we will make enough profit to make this worthwhile. Unsure of whether or not I have what it takes to do this. Just unsure.

But I'm halfway there, and there's no sense in stopping or looking back. I am on a forward moving train that is my will to make this work, and I will not stop until I reach my destination. I have to make this work. I have to. Because it is the only thing I can see myself doing.



The July Daring Bakers’ challenge was hosted by Nicole at Sweet Tooth. She chose Chocolate Covered Marshmallow Cookies and Milan Cookies from pastry chef Gale Gand of the Food Network.

An Ode to Tradition, and a Love Affair with Tea

I confess to having a certain uncanny affection for old-fashioned things. Be it the cut of a skirt (high waisted, full and somewhere around the knee), or a social culture in the form of afternoon tea. Of course, owing to the fact that I did not grow up in Europe or even any parts remotely close to the Northern Hemisphere, I only picked up the habits while I was growing up.

But really, I think that I have a certain affection to tea, even years before it was revived and elevated to its present status. I remembered playing with my mother's collection of patterned tea cups as a child, imagining as to when I will use them based on their patterns (little sprigs of flowers for spring, little fruits for summer---yes, the obsessive streak showed early; and no, we don't have 4 seasons in the tropics but what does a 7 year old care?) My obsession went so far as to buy an entire display tea set with my pocket money when I was about 10 years old. I got into trouble for it, but how could I explain myself?


And then, I don't remember how or why, but I grew out of it. There were certain lapses, but for the most part of my adolescence, I was not attracted to tea. I still drank the stuff, but less like a ritual and more like a common beverage. And then I moved to Melbourne. While during the first few years I was immune to the charms and attraction of the beguiling tea shops scattered around the city; I was nonetheless drawn in again, I think much in the same way that you are drawn to an old flame that did not really quite die down.

So after all these years, I once again find myself besotted and fatally attracted to my unresolved love affair with tea. I think my recent discovery of Laura Childs' Tea Shop Mystery series worsened my infatuation to unprecedented proportions. It was truly a case of the books choosing me, not the other way around. Set in the beautiful city of Charleston, South Carolina---Oh Helen, how lucky you are!---this book is all the things that I love bound into one neat little package that fits in my handbag: tea and food spiked with a dose of light-hearted mystery...what's not to like??

Putting into context my current re-obsession with tea, I decided on having some traditional English treats to go with my cup of afternoon tea. I've owned Sherry Yard's Desserts by the Yard for quite some time, but have not had time to make something from the recipes within. When I decided to make these, I had quite a few recipes at my disposal, but decided on Sherry's because 1. She claimed that her recipe is based on the traditional British version of the now world famous snack; and 2. All the ingredients needed are already part of my kitchen arsenal.



Traditional English Scones
adapted from Sherry Yard's Desserts by the Yard

2 cups all purpose flour
1/4 cup sugar, plus more to sprinkle
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon cream of tartar
1/8 teaspoon salt
4 ounces or 114g cold unsalted butter, cubed
1 large egg
1/4 cup heavy cream, or more as needed
1/4 cup milk, or more as needed
Milk for brushing


Preheat oven to 200C. Line baking trays with greaseproof paper. Sift flour, sugar, baking soda, cream of tartar and salt into a bowl. Rub in butter until the mixture resembles fine breadcrumbs. In a separate bowl, whisk egg, cream and milk. Add to the flour mixture and mix/knead just until the dough comes together. Do not overmix. If it seems dry, add a bit more cream or milk, a tablespoon at a time*. Dust your working area with flour, and shape the dough into squares, or triangles, about 1 inch thick. Flip the scones over and place on the greaseproof paper lined trays. This will ensure even rising when bakes. Brush with milk and sprinkle with sugar. Bake for 15-20 minutes, until dark golden brown and puffed.

*This is Sherry's suggestion. I didn't think that my scones need the extra liquid, but then again, I've never made scones so I won't be quite sure.

Devonshire Cream
makes one cup

1/2 cup mascarpone or cream cheese
2 tablespoons sugar
1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 cup heavy cream (35% fat)


Place the mascarpone or cream cheese in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Add sugar, cream of tartar and vanilla and blend well on low speed. Without stopping the machine, stream in the heavy cream until well blended. Scrape into a bowl and cover with clingfilm until ready to use. (The cream will keep, covered and refrigerated, for 2 days).


Forest Berry Jam

250g frozen forest berries mix (or substitute any berries you like)
1/4 lemon, juice only
225g caster sugar

Place the berries and lemon juice in a heavy based saucepan over low heat. Gradually add sugar while stirring. When the jam boils, skim off any impuritires to improve the clarity of your jam. Reduce the heat and simmer, stirring occassionally to prevent it from sticking to the bottom of the pan and burning. After 20-30 minutes, check the jam. It should be thick and be able to hold its shape.


P.S. This is not the pleasant surprise I had hinted in the previous post. I promise I'll get to it in my next one. ;)

Luscious Red Velvets and New Opportunities

I promised myself that I would be baking and blogging a lot more when my term break commenced a week ago. I have been baking moderately more often, but haven't been blogging very much about them. For this I must apologize.

You see, I received some bad news last week from my restaurant. My boss went around the bush and then in circles explaining himself and the situation that has compelled him to make the sacrifice, but it could be summed up with this sentence: I have been laid-off.

The signs were there all right, my hours were cut down, and even when I get any it seems that I was asked to finish earlier than my scheduled roster, because there was just nothing else for us to do. It is a slow time in the restaurant industry-- we are in the middle of a nasty winter spell and I don't blame people when all they want to do is stay at home curled up underneath a warm blanket. I feel much the same way.

So I have been applying for various jobs and contemplating the next step. I doubt that I will be able to work in a pastry kitchen again until I graduate from culinary school--the Australian Immigration only allow people with International Student Visas to work a maximum of 20 hours per week during term time. I was really lucky that I was able to find myself a part-time job in a pastry kitchen that I can work at for as little as 20 hours a week--most kitchens either demand full-timers that could work 50-60 hour weeks or part-timers that could do 35-40 hour weeks. So whatever jobs I apply for in the meantime will benefit me strictly in terms of cash flow, and maybe, hopefully, I'll learn a few things along the way.


To tell you the truth, I have been contemplating about leaving for quite some time now. I just haven't been able to find a potential job that I would be totally happy with to replace my old one. Plus, I like all the people that I work with, so that makes leaving harder.

But now there is a multitude of possibilities. Opportunities that I have been toying with and fantasizing about for the past few months. Applications for internships that I have procrastinated to put forward into action because I was worried that I would not have time to fit them into my life.

So here's to new possibilities and (hopefully) a new job!!



I made two versions of these red velvet cupcakes. The bright red ones are from Joy the Baker, and the cocoa ones are from Chockylit. I used the recipes for the frostings that each recommended. I have to say though, that Chockylit's frosting is easier to make because it is less prone to splitting. But if you want to try making the brown sugar cream cheese frosting, please follow Joy's guidelines to ensure the best results. As you can see, my brown sugar frosting split a little, and although I did come up with a way to rectify the problem later, I had gotten impatient and piped it on the cupcakes the first chance I got.

If your brown sugar cream cheese frosting splits, put it in a heatproof bowl over a pot of simmering water. Keep stirring, and you will notice that the frosting will turn smooth. But do not take off from the heat yet, or your frosting will split when it cools down. Keep stirring until mixture is warm-ish. Swipe a little of the frosting on your fingertips and rub them together. You should only be a slight graininess. Remove from heat and cool.

I apologize because I could not be more specific about the instructions, but i was purely going by touch. The best way is to try it, let it cool down and see if it turns grainy. If it does, return to the bain-marie( heatproof bowl over a pot of simmering water), and keep it on for a longer period of time. But be careful not to scorch it.

Remembrance of Things Past, or a Mistake Revisited

No, this post is not about madeleines, as the title so suggestively implied. This is about the first time I made French macarons.

It was December last year, when I finally got my bum off my seat and decided to make some of those wonderful little confections so many food bloggers are blogging about. They are the daintiest, prettiest things , and they are called macarons.

In those photos they looked so tame, so innocent that I thought I'd make them for a family christmas gathering at my J's parents' house. Three days to go, and I thought I would start with the shell, just in case things did not work out. I made the macarons in two ways, one batch of lemon macarons using the Italian meringue method, and another batch of pistachio using the French meringue method, borrowing the recipes that I found on Tartelette's blog.

The Italian meringue lemon macarons turned out just perfect. I was contented and pleased with myself. And then the horror began. My tray of pistachio macarons emerged from the oven as the ugliest things I have ever seen. Lopsided, cracked, and uneven. Not just one or two, but almost all of them. I consoled myself with soothing thoughts; perhaps I had misread the recipe, perhaps it is the humidity in the air (December is summer in Australia), perhaps I have forgotten to add a vital ingredient to the batter. With these uneasy thoughts in my head, I headed to bed.

The next night (I had to work from 9am-8pm that day, almost a double shift but not quite), I went on to make another batch of pistachio macarons. I made sure to add all the ingredients, follow the recipe down to every letter, switch on the air-conditioner in my apartment and let the piped batter stand for a good hour. I waited with my eyes closed my my hands clasped in a prayer.


I could not remember what I said or did when the first tray came out of the oven, looking exactly like their predecessors from the previous night. I must have gone through a shock, because I could not remember stomping or kicking or screaming or cursing, and I am a drama queen with a very hot temper.

What followed afterwards when I regained my memory was a frantically typed email at 1 am in the morning to Helen of Tartelette, whom I see as one of the authorities in macaron making. I was desperate and sent a plea for her to shine light on the art of macaron making. She replied promptly with suggestions in such generous details that I felt instantly reassured. But I have never since tried making French macarons again. Until now.

About two weeks ago J went for a visit to his nonna's house. He brought from there a citrus fruit which looks innocently enough like an orange. But peel the skin away and what greets your tongue is a flavour that has the unmistakable acidity of a lemon. This fruit grew on a tree in his nonna's backyard. It seems that she has grafted an orange tree into a lemon tree and married the pair (I am sure this is not the proper explanation, but it will have to suffice), resulting in this hybrid fruit.


I thought about what I wanted to make with this lem-orange, and decided to revisit my old fears of making macarons, mainly because I think that the sweetness of the macaron shell will foil the tartness of the fruit. This time, though, I made sure to take a few extra precautions (and read Helen's tutorial on the online Dessert Magazine).

When my first batch spread too much and became lopsided and uneven, I gritted my teeth and set my mind on making another one, and another one, and another one still, until I can get it perfect. It seemed that my determination managed to win over the macaron god, because I had the idea to cover my oven fan with a flat baking tray. And so my second batch, though a tad under-folded, yielded beautiful round macarons with perfectly even feet. And we live happily ever after.

I borrowed Helen's recipe for the macarons (Thank you Helen, and if you ever want anything from Australia, just let me know and I'll mail it to you!). The ganache I made, though, was a little too white chocolate-y for my taste, so I'll update the recipe after I develop one that I'm completely happy with. I already have something in mind, so stay tuned!

Red shoes, chocolates and Vianne Rocher

I own 2 pairs of red shoes, both which I dearly love. In fact, I don't believe that I have worn anything else on my feet for the past 8 months.

The first is a red satin pair with a pointy front, and black grosgrain trimming round the sides which ends in a neat a ribbon in front. I believe that my feet wore nothing else that summer. This pair has finally been put to its final resting place a few months ago, when the holes and stains from rain, mud and wear have been too obvious to hide. It was still my favourite pair.

Its demise was succeeded by a more ostentatious pair--round-toed flats covered in brilliant scarlet sequins with a red velvet ribbon--much in the fashion of Dorothy's ruby slippers in the 1939 take of the children's novel The Wizard of Oz. This pair is in its stages of retirement--the sequins have dulled, and holes have materialised. But still I hold on to them with dear life until I could find another red pair to take their place.

I don't know what reason propels my intense attraction to them. Perhaps I just love red shoes. Perhaps it's because they make excellent conversation starters, or because they are so different, so unique and so dazzling. But also, perhaps, because I tend to fancy myself as a modern-day, real-life Vianne Rocher--the heroine in Joanne Harris' acclaimed novel Chocolat--who wore red shoes while attempting to make chocolate that heal the ills of people's hearts and minds.

Of course, my thoughts are as far-fetched as it could be. At work, I am obliged to wear black safety shoes that are the ugliest things I've ever bought. At home, I usually go bare-footed. It seems that fate does not approve of me wearing my red shoes while I'm making chocolates. Oh well, one day maybe, when I can finally call all the shots....



Lemon and Thyme Truffles
(from the Australian Women's Weekly Chocolate)

makes 25

250 g white chocolate, chopped
60 ml cream
1 tsp finely grated lemon rind, plus extra
1 Tblsp lemon juice
1/2 tsp finely chooped thyme leaves
250g white or dark couverture chocolate, tempered

Stir chopped chocolate, cream, rind and juice in a small heatproof bowl over a saucepan of simmering water until smooth. Remove from heat, stir in thyme and refrigerate overnight. Working with a little of the mix at a time (keep remainder refrigerated), roll rounded teaspoons of the mixture into balls; place on foil-lined tray. Freeze until firm. Repeat with the rest.

Temper couverture chocolate. You can use eating chocolate too, but I always find them unsuitable for enrobed chocolate as they are too thick even in liquid form. Working quickly, using 2 forks (or a fork and an offset palette knife), dip truffles in melted chocolate. Place truffles on a pre-chilled tray and sprinkle with extra rind.

The recipe recommends refrigerating truffles, but I find this unnecessary, as the chocolate sets pretty quickly due to the cold from the frozen truffles. Also, refrigerating tempered chocolate is a big no-no as it creates condensation which leads to blooms forming on the surface of the chocolate. (Happened to me with the dark chocolate---something to do with high humidity and cold temperatures outside and a blasting heater; plus, I stupidly kept them on the dining table overnight...) Oh, and remember to wear gloves when lifting them up; couverture is much more sensitive to heat than eating/compound chocolate. It does sound scary, but for me, the taste, texture and finish of couverture chocolate justifies all of it.

So fluffy and light, you'd think it's a cloud!

I was in the mood to make something simple this week. Something that does not require a massive amount of concentration or dexterity. Something I know that I can pull together without any difficulty or dramas. But even then, I am too idealistic to regurgitate items I have made successfully in the past. Where's the fun in that?

I encountered these little darlings among the delicious pages of the Australian Women's Weekly Sweets book, looking so innocently out of their confining prison of glossy paper. I knew I had some rescuing to do, and immediately set to business.

These powder puffs (yes, that's what they call them; I would have preferred to call them 'Little Clouds', but no matter) are idiot-proof and super fast to make. I could've baked off the entire batch of 36 and cleaned up my mess in less than an hour, if not for the fact that I only had one 12-hole patty pan.

On a side note, I have been reading a lot on how to customize my layout and my header, with lots of help from the generous and kind Basma of Bakerette. (Thank you for pointing me towards the right direction!) So I hope you will forgive me if I seem less inclined to post anything new over the next few days. I will be simultaneously trying to work out the blogger system, create a new header, read up food photography techniques on Still Life With (thank you Lara for sparing a great deal of time and effort to share your knowledge with millions others; it is very much appreciated), get my life together while attempting to sneak in precious few baking time.


I decided to put in my little twist on these little treats, by way of adding maple syrup into one batch of cream and balsamic vinegar and black pepper into another. They both work really well, but my preference lies with the maple syrup variety; the maple syrup helps imparts the right amount of sweetness and depth, in my opinion. But the balsamic vinegar-black pepper variety, too, has its unique appeal---the result has none of the pungency of balsamic vinegar nor the obtrusive kick of black pepper---just a lingering subtle taste on your tongue that makes you wonder about its origins.


Strawberry Powder Puffs

makes 36 individual cakes, and 18 sandwiches
(adapted from The Australian Women's Weekly Sweets)

2 eggs
1/3 cup caster sugar
2 Tablespoons corn flour
2 Tablespoons plain flour
2 Tablespoons self-raising flour

Preheat oven to 180C (or 160C fan forced). Grease and flour two 12-hole shallow round-based patty pans. Beat eggs and sugar in a small bowl with electric mixer for about 4 min., or until mixture is thick and pale. Triple-sift flours, and fold into egg mixture. Place mixture in a piping bag and fill holes to about 2/3 full (or you can spoon the mixture into the holes). Bake about 10 min., turn immediately to cool. Wash, grease and flour pans again and repeat with the remaining mixture.


Strawberry Cream

1/2 cup thickened cream (35% fat)
1 Tablespoon icing sugar, plus extra for dusting
1/2 cup finely chopped strawberries, plus extra for garnish

Beat cream and the sifted icing sugar until it forms firm peaks. Fold in strawberries.

For maple syrup variation: Beat cream and sifted icing sugar with 1 Tablespoon of maple syrup until it forms firm peaks. Fold in strawberries.

For balsamic vinegar-black pepper variation: Beat cream and sifted icing sugar with 1 Teaspoon of balsamic vinegar until it forms firm peaks. Combine chopped strawberries with 1/4 Teaspoon freshly ground black pepper and fold into cream mixture.

Note: You can increase/decrease the amount of black pepper/balsamic vinegar/maple syrup to suit your liking. Just be careful of not adding too much liquid as the whipped cream will not hold its shape.


To assemble: Sandwich puffs with strawberry cream just prior to serving. Dust with sifted icing sugar.