A Mash-y A-Fare
Posted: December 14, 2010 Filed under: cooking, dinner, i love butter, pork, references 2 Comments »I type this as I’m splayed out on the couch completely paralysed from overindulging in food and guzzling my wine. In my current state, I’d probably give Homer Simpson a run for his money although I’ve just indulged in some seafood pasta (made from scratch), macarons and some sweet Lexia wine; not pizza, donuts and beer. Ahh, to be young and free.
Bangers & Mash
I made this for dinner last week when the weather was chilly and it didn’t feel entirely wrong to indulge in something so heavy and sinful. Another recipe nicked off the Gourmet Traveller Cookbook; oner of my favourite cookbooks this year. Seriously, it’s an endless source of recipes!
Onion-braised Sausages with Paris Mash
Serves 2
Adapted from Gourmet Traveller Cookbook
Paris Mash
300gm potatoes, preferably Pontiac, peeled and cut into 2cm pieces
70ml pouring cream
40ml milk
55g butter, coarsely chopped
1. Combine potato and plenty of cold salted water in a lage saucepan, cover and bring to the boil over high heat. Uncover, cook until tender for 10-15 minutes. Drain well, return to hot pan and mash well (I recommend the OXO Good Grips masher).
2. Meanwhile, bring cream, milk and butter to a simmer in a saucepan over medium heat, Gradually add to potato, mixing until smooth. Season to taste and keep warm.
Onion-braised Sausages
2 onions, thinly sliced
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
4 pork sausages (mine were from the Polish deli… a little too salty for my liking tbh)
3 thyme sprigs
100ml red wine
125ml chicken stock
Boiled peas, to serve
1. Heat oil in a large frying pan over high heat, add onion and garlic and cook, stirring occasionally, until onions start to caramelise, about 8-10 minutes.
2. Meanwhile, heat a separate frying pan over high heat, add sausages and cook, turning occasionally, until browned; 3-4 minutes. Transfer to onion pan. Deglaze sausage pan with wine, then add stock.
3. Add to onion pan with thyme and cook, turning sausages occasionally, until cooked through, 5-7 minutes. Serve onion-brased sausages hot with Paris mash and boiled peas.
Dinner for two
Needless to say, we were very satisfied and stuffed that night. And Paris mash? Best type of mash there is. Of course, I’m still dying to try the famous Joel Robuchon mash to challenge this statement!
I do love a good bangers and mash. This was particularly good as I rooted around our alcohol loot and discovered a forgotten bottle of Montalto pinot. Not really being a red wine drinker, all red wine is only used for cooking in my household; as horrifying as that may sound to wine aficionados. Oh well, at least this one came to some good use, right? Fret not, the more treasured wine bottles (gifted by more worthy people) are safely ensconced in my little alcohol nook and will not be relegated to the dishonour of being used as a base for my onion braise.
Sinful Solace
Posted: November 4, 2010 Filed under: baking, i love butter, references, shortbread | Tags: scottish shortbread 4 Comments »I fear I may be going cross eyed from staring at blocks of texts highlighted in neon yellow and processing information about Ancient Rome and her crazy emperors, and overanalysing buildings in ancient Middle East. History; fun subject and definitely thrilling to be able to trump other people with my vast knowledge of the past but seriously? Frustrating as hell to study. In fact, I’m starting to feel the rise of a migraine with the steady beat of a pulse beginning inside my skull.
You can tell I’m stressed when I end up baking a lot. I know some people stress out when they have to cook but I am my most comfortable in the kitchen. In fact, a good form of procrastination for me is to bake, clean and rearrange my kitchen. But the best part is baking sweets because having sweets on hand during stressful periods is one of the best balms for frenzied nerves. I’m not sure the scales will agree with my overconsumption of butter and sugar but it’s a small price to pay to hold on to one’s sanity.
Scottish Shortbread
Needless to say, my diet has slipped into disgrace with my meals of over-processed crap like instant noodles and luncheon meat. I’ve improved a little the past few days and have actually been making food from scratch but it’s still rather pitiful – almost too pitiful to photograph and discuss.
However, I’m a person who always has butter, sugar and flour on hand no matter how barren my refrigerator and freezer is. I don’t know what that says about me but it’s certainly handy when one needs a break from huge chunks of texts and illicit substances aren’t an option.
This recipe hails from one of my favourite food blogs out there, Michael Ruhlman’s. It was so easy I was in and out of the kitchen in 15 mins but the most torturous part was waiting for these babies to cook just so I could dig into them.
Scottish Shortbread
Adapted from Ruhlman’s recipe
1 1/2 cup flour
1/2 cup rice flour
226g salted butter
1/2 cup sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1. Combine all ingredients in the bowl of a standing mixer and use the paddle mixture until the dough comes together.
2. Press into a cake pan or two, depending on the thickness you prefer. Poke with fork for design if you like.
3. Bake in a 175˚C preheated oven for 25-35 minutes, or until cooked through and lightly browned. Cut into appropriate sized pieces while still warm, then allow to cool completely before removing from pan.
Vanilla specks
I used a brownie tin and a tiny little loaf tin for the balance of the dough. I had my shortbread pretty thick, which is just the way I like it. Of course my appropriation of the size to cut the shortbread into was way off so I had some really strange sized shortbread. This reminds me that back home in my parents’ kitchen I actually have a shortbread tray. It has cutters that you place into the tin after it’s baked to get the exact size you want. A lot more convenient than my game of guesstimation.
I have to confess I could not wait to get a piece into my mouth so I bit into one when it was right out of the oven. Obviously it wasn’t crisp enough and it was also much too hot so I had to spit it out into my hand (I’m so full of charm and grace) and I burned my tongue. Still, absolutely worth it. I feel like the shortbread just gets more delicious over time.
It’s perfectly buttery and sandy and so freaking addictive. I’ve been having two or three pieces as my meal these days. Then when I get sufficiently hungry, I’d begrudgingly make myself some real food. I would happily survive off shortbread, if I was perfectly honest. Except I don’t think my complexion or my wardrobe would appreciate it.
You know what else I’m absolutely itching to make now? Thyme-infused panna cotta with caramel sauce. Chocolate cupcakes with raspberry jam centre and a peanut butter frosting. As you can tell, my focus is nowhere near Augustus Caesar and his pietas or the Pompeiian peristyle homes.
Brownie Points
Posted: October 29, 2010 Filed under: baking, books, brownies, chocolate, dessert, references | Tags: pierre herme 4 Comments »I’ve been craving something chocolatey for the past fortnight. Something sinful and rich and dark. I usually can do without chocolate but lately I’ve been a total chocoholic and this was a particular craving that would not be ignored.
Thankfully, a month ago I bought this book of chocolate recipes by Pierre Herme. I knew I had to make something from it to satisfy my craving because really, who else would I trust with a chocolate recipe other than Pierre Herme?
Moist & Nutty Brownies
My mind, which seems to live in the gutter, couldn’t help but snigger at the name of these brownies but the picture of it in the book had my mouth watering so I knew I had to make them.
Moist & Nutty Brownies
Adapted from Chocolate Desserts by Pierre Herme
Keeps at room temperature for 2 days in an airtight container, or frozen for 1 month
145g bittersweet chocolate (I used 70% Lindt Excellence bars) in tiny pieces
260g unsalted butter, at room temperature
4 large eggs, at room temperature, lightly beaten
250g sugar
140g all-purpose flour
145g pecans or walnuts, lightly toasted and coarsely chopped
1. Preheat oven to 180˚C. Butter a 9 x 12-inch baking pant, fit the bottom with a piece of parchment paper, butter the paper and dust the inside of the pan with cocoa powder; tap out excess and set pan aside.
(The recipe says dust with flour but I personally hate seeing white on brownies and I think cocoa powder enhances the taste of brownies even more so no disrespect to the master, but cocoa powder is a more brilliant answer, in my opinion!)
2. Melt the chocolate in a bowl over simmering water, ensuring that the bottom of the bowl does not touch the water. Remove from heat and leave to cool slightly until it is warm to the touch or registers 45˚C on an instant-read thermometer.
3. Beat butter with paddle attachment until smooth and creamy but not airy. Stir in the chocolate.
4. Gradually add in the eggs. If the mixture separates, swap to a whisk attachment to blend the batter and continue with the whisk for the sugar, but return to the paddle attachment for the flour and nuts. However, it should not separate if you add the eggs in a thin, steady stream.
5. Add the sugar, followed by the flour and nuts, stirring only until each ingredient is incorporated.
6. Scrape the batter into the pan and smooth the top with a spatula. Bake for 19-22 minutes. The brownie is ready when the top is dry but a skewer inserted in the center will come out wet.
7. Transfer to a cooling rack and allow to cool for 30 minutes.Run a blunt knife around the edges to unmold the brownies. Remove the parchment paper and turn the brownies over to cool to room temperature right side up. Cut the brownies into 18 pieces.
To be honest, I may have overcooked the brownies a little bit because it isn’t as fudgy as I’d like it to be but it is still the best brownies I’ve ever had, let alone made! It is SO ridiculously easy to whip up as well so I highly recommend this.
A word of caution though: They are extremely, extremely addictive. I cut a weird long strip off the rectangle to test a small cube of brownie but ended up devouring the entire strip! Then I had two piece for breakfast today. I had to give some away to friends because my waistline is in danger with the presence of such irresistible brownies.
Speaking of… I think I may sneak another piece right now. Willpower? What willpower?
Conduct
Posted: October 26, 2010 Filed under: cooking, dinner, pasta, references, sandwich 1 Comment »One of the things I think my mother should be proudest of in her job of raising her personal three-person circus is the good manners she’s managed to instill in us. I’m not talking about not being brutally sarcastic and having sharp-as-a-whip tongues because we all seem to possess these qualities too (hey, we can’t help it if we have zero tolerance for idiots) but I’m referring to being really decent human beings. We never go to parties empty-handed, we never treat anyone like they’re beneath us (unless provoked, of course), we never fail to use our Ps and Qs, and most of all, we’re unfailingly polite, courteous and gracious.
Mum may not have done such a good job on teaching us how to pose for photographs…
It’s a mix of being raised by a teacher (and a discipline teacher at that!) and a traditionalist Chinese woman. When dining with elder Chinese people, we would actually address each and every elder person at the table to invite them to eat before us in a chorus of, “Uncle, eat! Auntie, eat! Mum, eat! Dad, eat!” spoken in Chinese, of course. It’s about serving elders before you regardless if it’s a piece of chicken or the refilling of a teacup. We ensure everyone has had a first serving before reaching for seconds. We never ever take a last piece of a dish unless we’ve been “invited” to do so. I’m sure if you’re Asian, you know exactly the kind of delicate dance of manners that is involved when dining out with relatives and your elders despite the uproarious noise levels that may deceive one into thinking that everything is majorly casual. If you’ve ever watched Joy Luck Club and thought, “Geez, that’s an exaggeration!”, I’m here to tell you that it’s all true.
Circa 1992
I address my siblings as Eldest Brother and Second Brother in Chinese. I’ve never grown up calling them by their names despite us having really silly pet names for each other. There have been many crude Chinese words and impolitically correct terms used to address each other fondly, which are unfortunately way too rude to be publicised, along with names like Bird, Dope, Loser, etc.
Recent family portrait, sans me and second brother’s fiancee on his 30th
Despite all of that silliness, my mum still gets compliments from her friends about how well-behaved we are. I think that’s just a major part of being a human being, though. All of my friends are equally as polite and beautifully behaved and I so adore them for it. We may have really inappropriate humour and conversations, but they’ve never exhibited behaviour that was less than.
Maybe it’s because I’ve grown up so accustomed with manners being such a prominent part of everyday life that I’m seriously rattled by people who epitomise bad manners. I usually make leeways for personal life matters and subsequent apologies but continuous bad behaviour and lack of courtesy and grace really gets my blood boiling. In my opinion, you can be the wealthiest man on earth but if you’re a rude prick, you’re worth diddly-squat. Just like how money can’t buy style, money certainly can’t buy class and manners either.
My friends tell me I spoil them by gifting them with free meals and sweets but I honestly don’t mind because they’re such lovely people. They rigorously stroke my ego by gracing me with their gratitude and praise — probably explains why I had trouble fitting into most of the hats in David Jones last weekend! In all honesty, my friends are so great at being really casual about everything and repaying me in kind, and I don’t mean in the monetary sense, that I don’t think much at all about my feeding them. The generosity definitely flows both ways, as it should with all great friendships.
Meatball Sandwich
On Friday and Saturday night, I fed two of my best friends separately just because we were camping in my apartment. Miss S came by to hang with me on Friday night for a good girly catchup and a sleepover, and I was making this anyway so we had it for dinner. The following night, Miss J also stayed the night after spending the night with me studying.
Both girly chitchatting and studying were definitely physically exhausting so it was good to be so filled up after! The recipe was from the Gourmet Traveler Annual Cookbook, which is quite possibly one of my favourite things right now. It is just an inexhaustible source of recipes that all sound so delicious and easy that I want to cook from it for a few months. It’s currently so heavily tabbed that I’m not quite sure of what to make of my usual trusty colour-coded system.
Day Two
It looked a lot prettier on the second day, although it was equally as delicious on both days. I adored the tomato sauce that I made from scratch. It was ridiculous how delicious it was!
On the third day, with the tiny bit of leftovers I had left, I boiled up some pasta and topped it with the tomato sauce and meatballs. I so enjoy versatile meals and leftovers.
Meatball Sandwich with Homemade Tomato Sauce
Adapted from Gourmet Traveler Annual Cookbook 2010
Serves 6
For meatballs:
200g soft white bread, crust removed, quartered
500g minced pork
1 cup mint, firmly packed, finely chopped
1 tomato, seeds removed, finely diced
1/2 onion, finely chopped
4 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 egg, lightly beaten
1. Soak bread in 200ml cold water until just soft, squeeze out excess water, then finely tear into a large bowl.
2. Add the rest of the ingredients, season to taste and mix well to combine. Cover with plastic wrap, refrigerate for at least 4 hours to overnight.
3. Roll into walnut-sized balls and place on lined trays. Refrigerate until required.
For tomato sauce:
4 vine-ripened tomatoes, quartered
1 can of chopped tomatoes (no salt added)
60ml olive oil
1 onion, finely chopped
4 garlic cloves, finely chopped
2 fresh bay leaf
1/2 cinnamon quill
1 Tbsp finely chopped fresh basil
60ml tomato passata
2-3 Tbsp red wine vinegar
1 tsp butter (or more cos that never hurts!)
1. Heat oil in a saucepan over medium heat, add onion and garlic and saute until tender. Add bay leaf, cinnamon, basil, fresh and canned tomatoes; then reduce heat to low and simmer until slightly reduced, stirring occasionally.
2. Add passata, butter and red wine vinegar, season to taste and simmer for flavours to develop. Remove from heat and keep warm.
To assemble:
60ml olive oil
6 crusty rolls (I used parmesan flavoured baguettes), halved lengthways
Comte cheese or other good melting cheese, grated
Choice of salad of greens or potato chips (heated up) to serve
1. Heat half the oil in a large frying pan over medium heat. Add half the meatballs and turn occasionally until cooked through, about 4-6 minutes. Wipe pan clean and repeat with remaining oil and meatballs.
2. Preheat oven/grill to medium-high. Place base of bread rolls on a tray, divide meatballs among rolls, top with tomato sauce followed by grated Comte (amount is up to your discretion) and grill until cheese melts. Sandwich with top of rolls and serve with greens or potato chips.
As for my two amazing friends, I have to say that their friendship; their roles as sounding boards and my voices of reason, as well as the endless laughs we shared are repayment enough for all my efforts.
My amazing Miss J and Miss S
Disclaimer: I appear to be about 5’0 in this photo but trust that I’m actually 5’5 and I just have really tall friends!
Basil My Heart
Posted: October 23, 2010 Filed under: baking, buttercream, cupcakes, i love butter, references 10 Comments »A few days back I was thinking I really wanted basil in something sweet and I wanted to try a basil buttercream. It’s probably one too many episodes of Top Chef: Just Desserts rubbing off on me but it sounded really delicious.
Vanilla-Lemon Cupcakes with Lemon Curd Filling and Basil Buttercream
One of the most obvious choices for a cupcake to me was something citrus flavoured. Inspired, I thought to myself I’d just make my usual cupcake recipe but add lemon zest in and I’d fill it in with lemon curd.
Just grab any vanilla cupcake recipe (there are 20 million versions out there) and add the zest of a whole lemon to it. I also swapped out the vanilla extract and used the seeds of a whole vanilla pod instead because I wanted to be fancy. And also because I have a whole lot of vanilla pods waiting to be used up from a past project.
The lemon curd recipe is an Alton Brown recipe but I stumbled on a few problems whilst making it. I’ve never made lemon curd before so I was really going in blind on this. My lemon curd just didn’t have the right consistency to it, even after adding in the butter. Instead of throwing it out, I just popped it back on the double boiler, chucked in another egg yolk and cooked it for another 10 minutes or so until it really thickened up, then I took it off and added even more butter (guesstimation!) and just stopped when it felt right.
It’s pretty cool being able to save lemon curd based on feel.
Curd-filled cupcake
I added the lemon curd using the “cone method”, which is basically cutting a top out of a cupcake with the knife angled inwards as to create a “cone” shape, lifting the top out, putting your filling in, then top it again with the cake piece.
Batch of lemon curd-filled cupcakes
For the buttercream, I made my favourite type of buttercream, French buttercream! Click here for the recipe. It’s definitely more labour intensive than a regular buttercream but it’s so worth the extra effort. It’s light, fluffy, rich and yet not disgustingly sweet. It’s my kind of buttercream where it really feels like buttery goodness and not just a cavity-inducing load of sugar. I especially hate grainy buttercreams that a lot of cupcake stores top their cupcakes with. HATE!
Temperature watch
It starts with making syrup but watching the temperature very closely that it doesn’t go over 118˚C. It has to hit 118˚C but it can’t go over that or you run a risk of having to start all over again so I was standing over the stove like a hawk with my insta-read thermometer (my baby!) and I took it off the heat the moment the thermometer registered 118˚C.
My incorporation of basil into the buttercream began with the syrup. I chopped up a handful of basil leaves and put them in the syrup to let it infuse into the syrup while it cooked. To be honest, I didn’t find that the basil was too well infused into the buttercream so I think in the future, I may actually pack the chopped basil leaves with the sugar in a vacuumed bag for a few days to let it fully perfume the sugar before boiling it with another handful of basil leaves. But that’s what all this fun experimentation is for, right? Discovery and rectification of methods to get the best possible results.
It’s still great this time around but much too subtle that you couldn’t really tell immediately it was basil you were tasting. Also because the lemon curd was really amazing so it kinda stole the show away from the basil buttercream. Maybe there’s a way to infuse basil in my cupcake?
But the greatest thing about these cupcakes?
Curd-filled hearts
When sliced in half, the curd actually formed a heart within the cake due to the “cone method” of filling. Isn’t that just precious? Love curd filling, aww!
To quote Sheena, who has been on the receiving end of many cupcakes from me, this may quite possibly be one of the best, if not the best, cupcake I ever made.
I have to say, I agree. I really adored this and it was, as always, so fun to conceptualise and then watch it materialise.