Doe Baking

Turn! Turn! Turn! (to Everything There is a Season)

2009-09-06T22:36:00.019+01:00

Don’t cry, panic, scream or holler Yes, I said don’t holler (for all the yanks in the audience). There is no need to panic, no need to cry, absolutely no need to make a scene. It’s September. The summer is officially over. It was amazing, wasn’t it? The weather was absolutely beautiful, nobody moaned about not having any money, the festivals were not muddy at all. We won the lotto. Ghandi came back to life, blah, blah, blah. No. So it rained all summer, and now that summer is over it’s going to rain all winter. As I said, don’t panic. The arrival of autumn (we all know its winter) is good news. Now when it’s sh*t weather outside…it’s supposed to be! So the world will be at one with itself. Hurrah! Christmas is on the way, Hurrah! Now that it’s getting dark early we don’t have to look at the ugly people out on the street when we arrive home from work, Hurrah! You see? It’s not all that bad. The correct weather, a fat jolly man in a suit, and no ugly people after work. F*CK YOU, SUMMER! HURRAH!

-taken from “PHONiC Magazine”, issue #3

This afternoon, the above paragraph caught my eye while I was thumbing through the current issue of PHONiC and waiting for Marian’s cheeseburger at Bobo’s on Camden Street. As usual, the rain was maniacally and triumphantly soaking everything and everyone; my ever-so-stylish “Virginia Is For Lovers” hoodie clung rather unbecomingly to my arms and head, and my shoes and socks were sopping wet. (Like a true Dubliner, I have long ago forsaken umbrellas. Umbrellas are large and cumbersome, plus you’d need to have one surgically attached to your arm - just slip on a pair of tracksuit bottoms, a hoodie, and light up a John Player Blue fer Chrissakes! Extra points for superfluous gold teeth and/or jewelry.)

I brought the magazine home and clipped out the paragraph. The little rectangle is now taped to my kitchen cupboard, alongside an older magazine clipping that says simply, “Keep Calm”. September isn’t so bad. For me, fall is the season of new beginnings; even as an adult I still get that “Back to School” buzz. I was one of those nerdy kids who loved stocking up on new pencils and crisp, empty notebooks. Fall is a time both of preparation and reinvention. And I am especially excited this September, as the Green Zebra tomatoes I’ve been nurturing since February are now ready to eat, Hurrah!

In reality, they are not exactly MY tomatoes. In fact, they are the property of my dear friend Kevin, and his son Aiden. However, due to two separate stints of house-sitting during which time I was responsible for the watering of the greenhouse occupants, I now consider myself an integral player in their development. No, seriously.

F and I eat dinner with Kev and Aiden at least twice a week, and I have eagerly (and admittedly, somewhat jealously) watched the inhabitants of Kev’s patio greenhouse grow and thrive. It is a well-known fact that although I harbor a serious interest in growing plants and vegetables, when it comes to greenery I am an unwilling homicidal maniac. Kev, although extremely modest, is a bit of a gardening whiz, and not only managed to construct a greenhouse on the deck of his Dublin apartment – he has successfully raised peas, gooseberries, onions, peppers, and now, tomatoes. For some reason, it is primarily the tomato plants that have stolen my heart and piqued my interest. I'll allow Kev full credit for the other plants, but those little green globes are mine: the direct result of two weeks’ attention and a plastic watering can.

This afternoon, Kev mentioned that he thought some of the first tomatoes might be ready to eat. I squeezed one of the green, plump orbs and it yielded, invitingly. So with much pomp and ceremony, I plucked it off the vine and brought it into the kitchen. We shared it between us, cut into five tiny crescents. It was gorgeous. I can’t wait until the rest of the little guys are ripe for pickin’ (with Kev’s blessing, of course) - beautiful little emerald spheres will decorate my every salad, bruschetta, pasta, and salsa. (Hurrah!)

God love the Irish autumn.

Cabana Boys & Cantaloupe

2009-08-30T16:58:00.007+01:00

“Amanda, you need to get yourself a new cabana boy. Dishes are for peasants!” Thus spoke one of my closest friends, when I was post-break up and bemoaning my new household responsibilities: mainly laundry and dishes. As dishwashers are practically non-existent in European apartments, I have (until now) always had the amazing foresight to choose boyfriends based on a combination of good looks and domestic abilities. Throughout my life I have habitually and ferociously loathed housework. When my last relationship fizzled out, I was left not only with a bruised heart, but a sink full of dishes and a laundry pile taller than me.

Regrettably, replacement cabana boys seem to be in short supply these days. Now that I am a single gal, I have had to adapt and change my lifestyle accordingly. Seeing as my son can’t really be expected to grow up in an abode resembling some sort of bizarre, baking-obsessed frathouse:

I channeled my inner Martha Stewart and let the good (and tidy!) times roll. And I discovered that I can, in fact, be “house proud.” (Do we say that in America? I can’t remember.)

Adj.

house-proud - proud of your house or its furnishings or upkeep

Maybe it’s because my new apartment is the first place I’ve ever lived that’s truly “mine.” Maybe I’m just older and have accepted that a little elbow grease is a necessity. Either way, I now find activities like hanging laundry on a clotheshorse strangely meditative. My friends mock the fact that I am a 27 year old who owns and displays “decorative” tea towels (God help the soul who tries to USE one of these towels. Seriously.) I enjoy having folks over for dinner (although due to the microscopic dimensions of my apartment, three people is my maximum seating capacity.)

Recently, my friend Ingrid popped over for an evening meal. Earlier in the week, my mother had sent me the “Food Section” of The Washington Post because it featured an interview with David Lebovitz. The paper also contained a few recipes using cantaloupe, as it’s currently in season. One in particular caught my eye: Poached Salmon with Creamy Mint-Melon Sauce.

Intrigued, I decided to give it a whirl in my (sparkling) kitchen. The end result was absolutely, and unexpectedly, beautiful. The creamy mint and cantaloupe sauce is a perfect accompaniment to the salmon. If you have the good fortune of living somewhere where the hot sun actually shines during the summer months, this dish would be really lovely while sitting outside with a nice bottle of white wine and some mosquito-repelling candles for ambiance.

Ingrid and I, however, enjoyed it immensely atop my decidedly non-alfresco linoleum, so go ahead and indulge if you, like me, are patio-less and summer-deprived. Just be sure to tidy up before and after.

Poached Salmon with Creamy Mint Melon Sauce

Ingredients (serves 4):

for the salmon:

1 tbsp white wine vinegar

1 tsp salt

4 6-ounce skin-on or skinless salmon fillets, pin bones removed (24 ounces total)

for the sauce:

1 cup low-fat or regular sour cream (do not use nonfat)

1 cup 1/4-inch diced cantaloupe

1 to 2 teaspoons sugar

1 to 2 teaspoons white wine vinegar

Freshly ground black pepper

Salt

1 tablespoon finely chopped mint leaves, plus small sprigs for garnish

Method:

For the salmon: Have ready a pot large enough to hold the salmon pieces without crowding. Fill it with enough water to cover the pieces by 2 to 3 inches. Add the vinegar and salt. Bring the water to a boil over medium-high heat, then add the salmon pieces. Reduce the heat to medium or medium-low so the poaching water just barely bubbles. Cook, uncovered, to the desired degree of doneness; 1/2-inch-thick fillets will be done in 7 to 8 minutes. Use a slotted spatula to transfer to a plate; if using skin-on fillets, discard the skin at this point.

While the salmon is cooking, make the sauce: Combine the sour cream, cantaloupe, 1 teaspoon of the sugar, 1 teaspoon of the vinegar, salt and pepper to taste and the chopped mint. Taste and add sugar and/or vinegar as necessary.

Divide the salmon fillets among individual plates. Spoon the melon-mint sauce over each portion. Garnish with mint sprigs; serve at room temperature.

From "Field Guide to Seafood," by Aliza Green (Quirk Books, 2007)

Afternoon Snacks, Carrot Cupcakes

2009-08-24T22:07:00.008+01:00

One week from today my son will start school. Strangely, I’m not suffering too much from the misty-eyed panic that my mom-friends have warned me about. Yet.

Growing up, it was a tradition in my household for my father to take a photograph of my sister and I on the first day of every school year. I have a copy of the first one on my dresser – N and I, standing side-by-side in front of the red screen door, are both sporting bowl cuts; mine is dirty blonde and her curls lick out from the side of her preschooler face. It is my first day of Kindergarten. We are both wearing shiny rain coats in shades of yellow, navy, and green, and we are each clutching tote bags. I am also holding a bright yellow Cabbage Patch Kids lunch box. (I still own this lunch box; it lives above my refrigerator.)

I don’t remember anything about this particular day; although I can recall bits and pieces from that first year of school. My teacher’s name was Mrs. Graves – she was older, had short black hair, and a thick Scottish accent. We learned to tell time, and how to tie our shoelaces (I had some difficulty with that one.) The 17-year cicadas came to Virginia and enveloped our backpacks, the leather school bus seats, the inside of our t-shirts, every inch of tree bark. I had a “boyfriend” named Gregory.

I don’t remember ever being too fussed about the contents of my lunchbox (I have never been a picky eater – as long as food is present, I will probably partake, for better or worse.) Dad packed our lunches every morning - this resulted in a few rather creative combinations (left-over hot dog buns featured heavily as sandwich bread.) Memories of my dad’s handmade meals give me a deeply nostalgic twinge – so often the small, day-to-day things become the most precious, I guess.

Mom was always there to greet N and I when we returned home from school. Each afternoon she’d begin preparing dinner around 4:30 (my mom is an amazing cook. Of course, growing up I had very little appreciation of her culinary talents. I just assumed good cookin’ was an inherent “mom” ability.) Prior to dinner (which we always ate together, when Dad came home around 6), I would demand an after-school snack. As I said, I have always been fond of food.

The after-school snack, eaten at our wooden, round, and glitter-speckled kitchen table was one of my favorite pastimes. And so, in honor of snacks-gone-by, I have a recipe that I think is particularly fitting: Carrot Cupcakes. They’re sweet enough to feel special, but small enough not to spoil your dinner. And they’re pretty healthy, too (the cream cheese frosting is optional!)

Carrot Cupcakes
Ingredients:
(makes 12)

70 g coarse wholemeal flour
70 g self-raising flour
1/2 tsp. baking powder
90 g brown sugar
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. ginger
30 g raisins (or sultanas)
40 g walnuts, chopped
2 free-range eggs
1 ripe banana, mashed
150 ml sunflower oil
165 g carrots, grated

Method:
1. Line a cupcake tray with muffin cases and preheat your oven to 180 degrees.
2. Mix all dry ingredients
3. Add eggs, one at a time, beating between each addition
4. Add banana and sunflower oil, mix.
5. Add carrots and mix until all ingredients are thoroughly combined.
6. Fill muffin cases with mixture; the cases should be slightly more than halfway full to allow for cakes to rise.
7. Bake for 20-25 minutes (depending on oven.) Cupcakes should be a dark golden brown and a skewer inserted into the middle should come out clean.

Optional: When the cakes are cooled, you can top them with a cream cheese frosting. Take approx 300g good-quality cream cheese, and add 15 g icing sugar, 20 g Irish honey, and the juice of one lemon. You can adjust the tartness to your liking by adding/subtracting the honey and lemon juice, should you prefer. You can also simply top the cakes with icing sugar to avoid messiness.

The School Yard Food Yard: Sunday Bliss

2009-08-17T21:58:00.008+01:00

Sunday morning’s unseasonable blue skies (this is Ireland, after all – blue skies are never particularly in season) boded well for what has become my end-of-weekend ritual. For the past few months, I have derived great restorative pleasure in dragging my (usually ghoulishly hungover) butt to the School Yard Food Yard Farmer’s Market. Yes, the name is a bit of a mouthful, but seeing as the market is actually located in the yard of the Ranelagh Multi-Denominational School, I won’t make too much of an issue out of it.

I guess somewhat unsurprisingly, I have always been a huge fan of farmers’ markets. Not only do they allow people to sample and support (primarily) local produce, the social aspect of meeting and mingling with the producers and other consumers is beneficial for communities. Especially in a capitol city, it is wonderful to meet and befriend your neighbors in a setting as age-old as a food market. If you can make new friends while sampling honey-mustard crusted goat’s cheese, I think that’s pretty cool. Good stuff, right?

I never really considered myself a creature of habit, but I have developed a very specific routine for my visits to the School Yard Food Yard. Without fail, my first stop is the Ariosa Coffee stall for a large (and breathtakingly-delicious) latte. (We also happen to use Ariosa Coffee at the Cake Café, so I am lucky enough to imbibe the inky goodness on a daily basis. It’s a serious addiction, honestly.)

While sipping my liquid cure-all, I then meander over to The Sunday Jar: a cleverly-monikered stall run by my friend Marian, and her lovely partner, Caroline. They sell a delightful assortment of homemade jams and relishes. (For you non-Irish, going for “jars” is the same as going for pints. Going for “Sunday jars” is somewhat of an Irish institution.) F and M are hopelessly addicted to the strawberry jam. Personally, I am partial to both the gooseberry jam and the cucumber pickle. I usually spend the better part of 45 minutes parked on the bench behind their table - gossiping, drinking coffee, and generally making a nuisance of myself (probably.)

After a healthy dose of chitchat and scandal-swapping, I visit the rest of the stalls, eco-mom cloth tote bag in arm (I am, after all, a seasoned market attendee.) Depending on that week’s wages, I indulge either a little or a lot – but I always leave armed with some hummus from the Real Olive Company, and perhaps some handmade beetroot tagliatelle (from a very nice chap whose name escapes me.)

The market is held every Sunday, from 10 am to 3:30 pm, rain or shine. With any luck, next Sunday my sleep-caked eyes will be opened to blue skies once again. For more information, visit: http://schoolyardfoodyard.com/ (Website to be updated soon.)

Cinnamon & Sugar Lovefest

2009-06-09T20:19:00.009+01:00

Cinnamon and sugar recollections:

1. My grandmother’s kitchen window looks out onto a scene of rural tranquility. Directly behind her house, past the idyllic rose garden and gigantic pine tree I am immensely fond of climbing (even if it means I often have to remove ticks from my skin later), there is a small lake. Better still, you can cross the lake via a rickety wooden bridge and while away the hours on a tiny island. Around Easter, the island regularly hosts tiny families of ducks, much to my delight. Each morning, before my parents or sister wake, I creep downstairs into the kitchen. My grandmother is at the kitchen table, always, in a pale blue zipper bathrobe with her morning cup of coffee and a newspaper. I feel very grown up perched next to her, munching my breakfast. Her specialty is warmed cinnamon muffins, cut in half and generously topped with lashings of butter.

2. At 16, I land my first restaurant job. I’m not in the kitchen - although from the start I am both intimidated and fascinated by the obscenity-filled hustle and bustle, as well as the team’s ability to crank out consistent, delicious food to a few hundred hungry mouths on a Friday night. Needless to say, I spend a lot of my free time back there. I even manage to befriend the head chef, who is known to be a bit of a cantankerous fellow at the best of times. Sunday brunch is always incredibly busy and in lieu of the usual bread, we serve homemade cinnamon rolls. Without fail, I usually spend a good portion of my Sunday shift crouched behind the service station, shoving portions of fresh cinnamon cake into my mouth while punching orders into the computer. The trick is the ability to chew a sizeable chunk without letting the customers see that your cheeks are ready to burst. Floorstaff regularly hold gleeful competitions during which we scarf as many rolls as possible before getting shouted at by an incensed pastry cook.

3. My best friend and I are sitting in a northern New Jersey diner, at around 11 a.m. on a drizzly February morning. We’re nursing impressive hangovers as a result of the previous evening’s festivities; I think I spent the night (somewhat inexplicably) passed out next to her refrigerator. (At least, I awoke on the linoleum, next to the fridge. Sometimes it’s best not to dwell on the “hows” and “whys” of these situations…) We are, of course, both delicately sipping our mugs of filtered coffee, sharing cigarettes (you could still smoke in diners back then), and simultaneously giggling/groaning about last night’s antics. In an hour, I have to catch the commuter train back to New York. When the waitress arrives, I order cinnamon toast and an omelet – the ultimate hangover cure.

4. A week ago, my four year old son breaks his arm on the playground. After the A&E visit, we return to the apartment, bandaged and full of bravado. I assure him that all of his classmates are going to think he is the epitome of tough-guy chic. He is now sporting a snazzy blue cast that reaches to his shoulder. To eradicate the day’s stress and tears, we don wigs, pose for photographs, and I bake the most comforting thing I can think of: squishy cinnamon sugar cookies. They are a success with the one-armed bandit and his Marie Antoinette-ed mother (see below); I now have another cinnamon memory to add to the list.

Snickerdoodles (from Jacqueline Bellefontaine’s Homemade Cookies)
(makes 36)

175 g butter, softened
225 g caster sugar
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla extract
300 g plain flour
1 tsp cream of tartar
½ tsp baking powder

1 tbsp caster sugar
1 tbsp ground cinnamon

Method:

1. Preheat the oven to 200 degrees. Lightly grease two baking sheets.
2. Cream the butter and sugar together until light and fluffy. Beat in the egg and vanilla. Sift the flour, cream of tartar, and baking soda together and blend into the butter mixture to form a soft dough.
3. Break of pieces of the dough about the size of a small walnut and roll into balls. Mix the 1 tablespoon sugar and cinnamon together and roll each ball in the cinnamon sugar. Arrange on the baking sheets, allowing room for the cookies to spread.
4. Bake until pale golden, about 8 to 10 minutes. Transfer to to wire rack to cool.

Ladurée has landed!!

2009-05-26T22:54:00.006+01:00

Having an unusual Tuesday off (I normally succumb to the more traditional Monday – Friday, despite my profession), I decided to treat myself to a day of window-shopping. Somewhat predictably, I found myself standing in the doorway of Brown Thomas, Dublin’s most luxurious department store. It isn’t uncommon for me to venture here; I am ridiculously fond of ogling the rows of designer cosmetics, handbags, and other goodies fantastically out of my price range - but today, I had a purpose. And it involved a purchase.

Recently I heard that the famous Parisian bakery, Ladurée, had opened a stall on the ground floor. I adore macarons, particularly those that come encased in that trademark seafoam green box, delicately and opulently wrapped. Catherine de Medici brought the concept of macarons to France in the 16th century, but it wasn’t until the 20th century that the Ladurée brand became immensely famous by introducing the “double decker.” These bite-sized biscuits are, quite frankly, the Rolls Royce of the macaron world. While in Paris, I think I often enjoyed the event of visiting Ladurée almost as much as I enjoyed eating my acquisitions. There is a lovely sense of decadence and luxury within the pastry shops. The famous macarons were prominently featured in Sophia Coppola’s film Marie Antoinette, and it makes perfect sense – the whole experience, even today, seems very “Versailles.”

I could have easily polished off an entire box (I have certainly done it before!) but decided instead to buy only one, my favorite flavor. I was curious to see if the Dublin dainties are as good as their Parisian counterparts. After a slight deliberation (the “red berries” looked very inviting), I selected “salted caramel.” Expectantly, I sank my teeth into the simultaneously crunchy and squishy goodness of a perfectly executed Ladurée macaron. Absolutely divine, darling! Now I just need to find some friends having a deliciously debauched gathering, and I’ll have an excuse to purchase that entire box I was thinking about…

It's not Ibiza, but...

2009-05-22T19:14:00.010+01:00

Perhaps it is due to Dublin's recent (an incessant) rainfall, coupled with the fact that it's nearly June and I am still wearing sweaters, but I am ridiculously nostalgic for warmer climes and outdoor festivities. Oh,to be wearing a sundress and flipflops! Alas.

Grumpy and definitely not sun-kissed, I have been in need of some comfort food – the culinary equivalent of a margarita on the beach. Seeing as I obviously won’t be wearing a bikini anytime soon, I can think of no better feel-good combination than nutella and banana, encased in a lovely, fresh crêpe. Bring on the belly rolls, I say – as long as acquiring them tastes as good as this.

The first time I tried to make a crêpe, I was terrified. I was working as a commis chef in the kitchen at Harvey Nichols, Dundrum. The pastry chef decided to put Crêpe Suzette on the dessert menu, and I was unbelievably nervous. I faked confidence in my technique (a skill undoubtedly required for survival in the macho world of professional kitchens) and after a few shaky attempts, my first crêpe was born. Voila!

Crêpe-making is actually ridiculously simple, once you get the hang of it. As a rule of thumb, the first crêpe is usually useless – either because the pan isn’t hot enough or because the chef is impatient and tries to “flip” before the crêpe is fully cooked (this is typically my problem.) Once the crêpe is cooked, however, the possibilities for potential fillings are endless – sweet or savoury, the choice is yours. My favorite filling is, hands down, nutella and banana. Here in Ireland, people tend to prefer lemon juice and sugar. Himself is faithful to ham, cheese, and a fried egg.

Flip on, my friends, flip on…with weather like this, I say F the swimsuits, let's eat pancakes.

Crêpes

Ingredients:

1 free-range egg

1 c. plain flour

1 c. milk

pinch of salt

pinch of sugar

Method:

Heat a skillet on the stove until very hot. Add a drop of butter and allow it to melt completely, swirling it around the sides of the pan until the entire surface is thinly coated. Pour off excess butter.
Add a large dollop of batter to the pan. Again, swirl the batter until it completely fills the base of the skillet – your crêpe should be very, very thin.
Cook the crêpe until you can fit a spatula underneath – if the crêpe is cooked, it should lift easily. This should take around 3 minutes.
Flip the crêpe (this is the bit that takes a little getting used to as it requires a subtle flick of the wrist and spatula – but once you’ve mastered it, its smooth sailing.)
Cook the other side of the crêpe for a further 2 minutes (approx.)
Slide the crêpe from the skillet onto a plate and smear with your favorite filling.
Fold or roll as desired, sprinkle with icing sugar, and enjoy!

Rhubarb Tart: An Homage to Insanity

2009-05-18T18:52:00.011+01:00

Unless you have also cohabitated with a paranoid schizophrenic in the throes of a psychotic episode, you are probably (and thankfully) unfamiliar with the particular stress that this situation can present. In the summer of 2002, I had been living in Paris for about six months, studying art history (this pre-dated my studying of patisserie, which began in 2003.) My ticket home had been booked for the end of May (if I remember correctly), which presented a problem because a). I had fallen completely in love with the City of Light and had no desire to return to suburban America for the summer and b). I had fallen completely in love with an Irish bartender and very much wanted to stay in his company.

Himself (the Irish bartender) suggested quite light-heartedly one afternoon over fresh strawberries and bottles of cider that I spend my summer months living in his apartment. He shared a somewhat dilapidated but charming residence with a Parisian painter in the Bastille. We’ll call the painter Pierre. I accepted his offer.

Pierre began to exhibit signs of less-than-normal behavior only a few days after I officially moved in. Perhaps my presence was the catalyst needed to push him firmly into the realms insanity (maybe I have this effect on people...I should probably look into it.) Anyway, it started with things like refusing to vacate the bathtub, despite being fully clothed, the bath being full of cold water, and it being 2 a.m. He began to accuse Himself and I of placing mouse corpses in his slippers (an accusation of which we were innocent.) He stopped sleeping altogether.

One afternoon, Pierre jumped out of our second story window (he later told me that this was an attempt “to catch his cigarettes.”) The greenhouse roof, one story beneath us, broke his fall, and probably saved his life. We called the paramedics (obviously), who collected Pierre and brought him to the hospital. About 20 minutes later, there was a knock on the door – Pierre stood in the doorway, completely naked, and clutching his clothes in his arms. He had escaped while the ambulance was stopped at a red light. Merde.

I was recently reminded of Pierre and the long series of escapades (some terrifying, some slightly humorous, too numerous to be included in this post) that led to his eventual institutionalization. Strangely, one ritual that we managed to maintain for most of his descent into madness was an evening meal spent in each other’s company. Pierre was extremely fond of tarts. I was passing one of the new, fashionable French cafés that have popped up on Irish sidewalks of late and spotted a variety of tartlets that were extremely reminiscent of Pierre’s post-meal masterpieces. So, in homage to my ex-flatmate, I decided to recreate one at home.

I’ve been dying to use the amazing organic rhubarb I recently acquired, so I chose to make rhubarb tarts. The recipe is as follows:

Rhubarb Tarts with Oranges and Cloves

Pâte Brisée (shortcrust pastry)
Ingredients:
460 g plain flour
230 g butter, cold and cubed
1 tsp salt
1 tsp sugar
3-6 tbsp ice water

Method:
1. Put the flour, butter, salt, and sugar in a mixer (or lightly toss with your fingers) until it forms “breadcrumbs”
2. Add the ice water until the pastry dough clings together (omit the actual ice cubes.)
3. Wrap in cling film and chill for at least 1 hour before rolling out
4. Roll dough into small sections and line your individual tart cases with the dough. Roll your rolling pin over the edges of the tart case to trim the excess pastry dough.
5. Blind bake your tart cases for 15-20 minutes (depending on your oven.)
6. Set aside.

The trick is to ensure you don’t “over-handle” the pastry while you’re making it – a good pâte brisée should still have small but discernable chunks of butter throughout. This gives the finished tart case a flaky, buttery consistency.

Rhubarb Filling
Ingredients:
300 g organic rhubard, washed and thinly sliced
200 g sugar
100 ml freshly squeezed orange juice
5-6 cloves

Method:
1. Bake all ingredients in an oven (cover baking tray with tin foil) under tender, about 15-20 minutes.
2. Remove from oven and allow to cool slightly.
3. Arrange rhubarb in tart case, use excess syrup in baking tray as glaze.

I served my tart with some cinnamon sugar whipped cream, and it was delicious. Cinnamon ice cream would probably be amazing.

A few thoughts on croissants (and morning sickness)

2009-05-14T19:32:00.008+01:00

While living in Paris and studying patisserie at Le Cordon Bleu (ooh la la!), I found out three months into my nine month course that I had, shall we say, a proverbial bun in the oven. Oops. I was unsure as to the culinary school’s official stance on pregnancy – obviously, this wasn’t high school - yet I worried that for things like insurance purposes (heavy lifting, scorching temperatures, and wet floors do not usually bode well with pregnancy) the administration might have a problem with my increasing abdomen. At worst, they could have asked me to resume my studies post-baby. I was reluctant to postpone my degree, though. As an American, I was only legal in France as a student, and unless I married my partner (who is Irish and therefore a legal resident in any European nation, lucky bastard) I wasn’t entirely welcome on French soil. In truth I was also worried that a "postponed" degree could easily become an abandoned degree. So ultimately I decided to go the typical high school route and attempt to conceal my blossoming belly until graduation.

I discovered that concealing a pregnancy while wearing chef whites is actually not that arduous a task, although it can be quite humiliating. I could offer no explanation to my fellow bakers-in-training as to why my face had suddenly erupted into a minefield of horrific acne. Although pregnancy magazines assured me that my skin would glow with radiance, this was, alas, not the case for me (unless “radiance” is code-speak for “pus-filled volcanoes will erupt in between your eyebrows.”) The boxy chef jacket and white and blue apron disguised the tell-tale bump, but it didn’t hide the fact that I was quite visibly putting on some sort of weight around my middle. So instead of a “blooming” mother-to-be, I had become, in the eyes of my classmates and instructors, the girl who was obviously scarfing EVERYTHING we made in class with absolute abandon – transforming into a fat, pimpled little piggy before their very eyes. Humbling, to say the least.

My physical appearance, however, was manageable. And I had confided in one fellow student – an AMAZING girlfriend (Nicole) who promptly and discreetly helped me with things like lifting sugar lamps (which weigh a TON) and carrying 20 students’ mise-on-place from the bowels of the school basement for our practical classes. Unfortunately, the one thing she couldn’t help me with was the true evil of the first trimester: morning sickness.

I think most women who battle morning sickness while pregnant spend a fair bit of time trying to find the one miracle food that will quell their nausea (wouldn’t you?) Every mom-to-be book offers its own advice, usually along the lines of saltines or ginger biscuits, first thing in the morning, before you get out of bed. I wasn’t organized enough to develop a pre-alarm clock eating routine, and anyway, I usually had to be riding the piss-scented metro to my first class at around 6:45 am. I had no time for saltines crumbling on my pillow. Lucky for me, the boulangeries in Paris open at the crack of dawn. And I discovered that my miracle cure (and it truly was miraculous in its effectiveness) was a freshly baked butter croissant.

I quickly developed a morning routine of my own: wake up, stumble onto metro, suppress the urge to vomit, emerge from metro gasping for air, run to nearest boulangerie, inhale still-warm croissant, experience a relief so intense it was like a religious experience. Repeat daily, for 3 months. This probably didn’t help my ever-expanding waistline, but me and Baby enjoyed it. And hell, I figured it probably counted as further “research” toward my pastry degree.

It wasn’t until my LAST week of classes that one of my chef-instructors coyly inquired, “Etes-vous enceinte?” (“Are you pregnant?”) I considered, briefly, being slightly evil and replying with tear-filled eyes, “Oh my God, NO!” but seeing as how they were hardly going to do anything about it with 4 days left until the final exam, smiled, "Oui, Chef." And I must say, everyone was wonderful. The day we received our diplomas, my head pastry chef congratulated me saying, “You should be very proud, because two people received this degree today.” Awwww.

My little bun in the oven is now nearly five years old, and neither of us have lost our great appreciation for my miracle cure-all: the freshly baked French croissant. Living in Dublin, we don’t have the luxury of stumbling from smelly metro stations to the nearest boulangerie, but we manage. I’d love to say that I regularly make my own, but sorrowfully, I don’t really have the spare time (or the counter space!) that is required to make detrempe dough from scratch; nor does my current job (although I am a baker) require it. One of these days, though, I’ll get around to it – if only to return to the sensations of Paris, the Cordon Bleu kitchens, and the ecstasy of that first flaky mouthful.

Back on track...with tiramisu!!

2009-02-28T11:10:00.008Z

I have finally unearthed the last notebook, spatula, and cupcake case from it’s respective box…although far from officially “unpacked” I am seriously nearing the finish line. I’ve been missing my self-indulgent blogging very much lately, so it was with great fervor that I embarked on my comeback cupcake: tiramisu.

I initially intended the tiramisu cupcake to serve as my entry for February’s online Iron Cupcake competition, but noticed about 6 hours too late that the cut-off time for submissions was 12 noon. Ugh. This complete lack of organization has recently become all-too-familiar in my daily life, but I am shaking off the shackles of chaos and am hereby vowing to clean up my act…through conscientious culinary endeavors, of course.

Anyway, back to baking. According to my friend Elena (who is from Milan), the word tiramisu literally translates to "lift me up". I suppose the heady mix of espresso, alcohol (which I omitted for F's sake), and sugar would tend to have that delightful effect on someone...how perfectly lovely!! The tiramisu cupcake that I concocted is comprised of a coffee sponge base, topped with a decadent layer of chocolate ganache, and finished with a vanilla-infused dollop of a mascarpone, cream cheese and sugar icing.

The recipe for Tiramisu Cupcakes is as follows:

For the cupcakes:

Ingredients:

450 g butter, softened

400 g sugar

8 eggs

400 g self-raising flour

2 shots espresso

Method:

1. Cream the butter and sugar together until light and fluffy.

2. Add the eggs, one at a time, mixing after each addition.

3. Add the flour.

4. Add the espresso.

5. Mix at a high speed until all ingredients are well combined. The finished batter should be light and airy.

6. Bake in a preheated oven at 180 degrees for approximately 20 minutes. Set cupcakes aside to cool.

For the chocolate ganache:

Ingredients:

250 g dark chocolate chips

250 ml cream

Method:

1. Place chocolate chips in a metal mixing bowl. Set aside.

2. In a saucepan, bring cream to boil. Pour over the chocolate chips.

3. Leave for approximately 1 minutes, before gently stirring chocolate and cream together with a wooden spoon. When all of the cream is incorporated and your ganache is looking lovely and rich, transfer into a fresh container and leave to set. (To speed up the process, you can put your ganache in the fridge.)

4. When the ganache is set, spread a thin layer on the top of each cooled cupcake.

For the icing:

Ingredients:

250 g mascarpone cheese

150 g cream cheese

100 g icing sugar

1 vanilla pod (seeds)

Method:

1. Mix all ingredients together. Using a dessert spoon, place a large dollop on top of each chocolate-covered cupcake. Dust with cocoa powder and garnish with an espresso bean. Bellissimo!!

Back Soon....

2009-02-07T11:19:00.002Z

I'm on a bit of a blogging hiatus. Due to a recent move, my life is buried under boxes, bags, and suitcases. I haven't been able to locate my USB cable for weeks!

I'll be back on track very soon (hopefully!) and will be posting on all things cupcake, sweetness, and afternoon tea delight.

See you soon!!

xx

Maple and Pecan Cupcakes

2008-12-08T17:33:00.004Z

Dublin’s winter has officially arrived. Walking to work each morning, I’ve noticed that the cottage rooftops and car windshields are coated in a thick ice-like frost; my fingers, despite being encased in lovely mint green mittens, ache from the biting cold. Stepping through the warm doors of the café/bakery is like stepping into paradise – especially at 8 a.m.

Yesterday, though, I had an unexpected day off work…and what did I end up doing? Making cupcakes. I think I might actually have a baking “problem.” Although I suppose with the exception of the inevitable ever-expanding waistline, its not such a terrible affliction.

Anyway, armed with Susannah Blake’s marvelous and whimsical book, “Cupcakes”, F. and I set about choosing our flavor du jour. F. was quite taken by the pecan and maple syrup cupcakes, and somehow those flavours do seem quite seasonal and befitting of these frosty Irish afternoons. Truth be told, I’m not particularly fond of the pecan nut, but the gorgeous maple syrup buttercream more than made up for it.

F. and I whipped up the cupcakes quite quickly – the recipe is lovely and very easy to follow, even when a 4 year old is acting as overall assistant/chief measurer – and the end results were devoured (just as quickly) the same afternoon.

Maple and Pecan Cupcakes

Ingredients:
8 tablespoons butter
¼ c. brown sugar
½ c. pure maple syrup
2 eggs
1 c. self-raising flour
½ c. pecan nuts, roughly chopped

for the icing:
½ c. caster sugar
12 pecan nut halves
3 tablespoons butter
1 ¼ c. icing sugar, sifted

Method:

Preheat oven to 180 degrees (350 F)
Beat the butter and sugar together until creamy, then beat in maple syrup.
Add eggs, one at a time
Sift the flour into the mixture and fold in
Fold in the nuts, and spoon the mixture into a lined baking tray
Bake for approx 17 minutes (until toothpick comes out clean)

for the decoration:
Make a caramel and add pecan nuts. Pour onto baking paper to cool.
Beat the butter, maple syrup, and icing sugar together in a bowl until pale and fluffy
Spread the mixture over the cupcakes and top with a caramelized pecan.

Daring Bakers' November Challenge: Caramel Cake with Caramelized Butter Frosting

2008-11-29T20:09:00.003Z

Thanksgiving crept up on me this year; despite the fact that I didn’t celebrate in until today (Saturday) and therefore had two extra days to prepare…the pumpkin pie remained unmade (I’m hoping to have made at least one before Christmas). Lucky for me, however, my Daring Bakers Challenge was due today, and it worked as a perfect end-course to my belated festivities. And my dining buddies were none the wiser as to the real reason I came bearing a delicious autumnal dessert. Success!!

Anyway, this month’s mouth-watering caramel cake was a joy to execute – I truly adore caramel and Shuna Fish Lydon’s (http://eggbeater.typepad.com/) cake recipe did not disappoint. With the clock incessantly ticking toward turkey, however, I wasn’t able to devote as much time (ok, or any time, really) to decoration – which is a shame, because that’s usually my favourite part. I have some fantastic ideas, though, which I’m eager to try the next time I bake this. I'm thinking something with caramelized apples, to create a cake slighty reminiscent of my favourite fall sweetness - toffee apples. I will definitely be baking this again – post-meal, with a large cup of strong coffee, forkfuls of this caramelized cake was like eating pure shards of love. I liked it.

Caramel Cake with Caramelized Butter Frosting:
(http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2006/12/24/caramel-cake-the-recipe/)

142g unsalted butter at room temperature

280g granulated sugar

½ tsp/2.5 ml kosher salt

80ml Caramel Syrup (see recipe below)

2 eggs, at room temperature

splash vanilla extract

286g all-purpose flour

1/2 teaspoon/2.5ml baking powder

240ml milk, at room temperature

Preheat oven to 350F/176c/gas mark 4

Butter one tall (5-6/2 – 2.5 inch deep) 23cm/9-inch cake pan.

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, cream butter until smooth. Add sugar and salt & cream until light and fluffy.

Slowly pour room temperature caramel syrup into bowl. Scrape down bowl and increase speed.

Add eggs/vanilla extract a little at a time, mixing well after each addition. Scrape down bowl again, beat mixture until light and uniform.

Sift flour and baking powder. Turn mixer to lowest speed, and add one third of the dry ingredients. When incorporated, add half of the milk, a little at a time. Add another third of the dry ingredients, then the other half of the milk and finish with the dry ingredients. (This is called the dry, wet, dry, wet, dry method in cake making. It is often employed when there is a high proportion of liquid in the batter.)

Take off mixer and by hand, use a spatula to do a few last folds, making sure batter is uniform. Turn batter into prepared cake pan. Place cake pan on cookie sheet or 1/2 sheet pan. Set first timer for 30 minutes, rotate pan and set timer for another 15-20 minutes. Your own oven will set the pace. Bake until sides pull away from the pan and skewer inserted in middle comes out clean. Cool cake completely before icing it. Cake will keep for three days outside of the refrigerator.

CARAMEL SYRUP

450g cups sugar

120ml cup water

240ml cup water (for "stopping")

In a small stainless steel saucepan, with tall sides, mix water and sugar until mixture feels like wet sand. Brush down any stray sugar crystals with wet pastry brush. Turn on heat to highest flame. Cook until smoking slightly: dark amber.When color is achieved, very carefully pour in one cup of water. Caramel will jump and sputter about! It is very dangerous, so have long sleeves on and be prepared to step back.Whisk over medium heat until it has reduced slightly and feels sticky between two fingers. (Obviously wait for it to cool on a spoon before touching it.)Note: For safety reasons, have ready a bowl of ice water to plunge your hands into if any caramel should land on your skin.

CARAMELIZED BUTTER FROSTING

12 tablespoons unsalted butter

454g confectioner’s sugar/icing sugar, sifted

60-90 ml heavy/double cream

10ml vanilla extract

30-60 ml caramel syrup

Kosher or sea salt to taste

Cook butter until brown. Pour through a fine meshed sieve into a heatproof bowl, set aside to cool.

Pour cooled brown butter into mixer bowl.In a stand mixer fitted with a paddle or whisk attachment, add confectioner's sugar a little at a time. When mixture looks too chunky to take any more, add a bit of cream and or caramel syrup. Repeat until mixture looks smooth and all confectioner's sugar has been incorporated. Add salt to taste.

Note: Caramelized butter frosting will keep in fridge for up to a month.To smooth out from cold, microwave a bit, then mix with paddle attachment until smooth and light

(recipes above courtesy of Shuna Fish Lydon)

Happy Belated Thanksgiving

2008-11-28T19:40:00.007Z

Undoubtedly, I have been horrifically neglectful of my lovely little blog lately – my last post was in October (oh dear!!) It has been one of those typically empty yet extraordinarily busy months – F. has had an endless cold, I seem to have endless cake orders, sporadic yet insanely time-consuming catering jobs, etc…suddenly I find myself just days from December and not one scrap of written evidence for November's baking! Disaster!

Seeing as Thanksgiving obviously passes without celebration here in Ireland, our turkey day has been postponed until tomorrow (Saturday.) I was working all day yesterday in the cafe, and beginning Thanksgiving preparations at 5:30 in the evening just didn’t sound that appealing (or practical.) I have friends who have recently moved to Dublin from San Francisco, so we will all be gathering at their fabulous apartment tomorrow afternoon for some serious eatin’. I usually supply a pumpkin pie, but (rather expectedly, I guess) I wasn’t able to get my act together this month (it’s quite difficult to source pumpkin puree in Dublin!) so we’re having a caramel cake instead. I’ll post the recipe in a few days.

Last Thanksgiving was a different story, and yielded one of my best pumpkin pies ever…F. and I were in the States with my family, and the whole (small) clan traveled up to the Jersey shore for a frosty turkey feast.

As I’ve mentioned before, I simply adore making miniature versions of the classics, and pumpkin pie is no exception. I devised a dessert consisting of individual pumpkin pies, served atop a ginger crème anglaise and garnished with a maple syrup tuile and a quenelle of Ben & Jerry’s toffee crunch ice cream. I must admit, the end result was divine – I even sourced some lovely pine cones from the side of the house and (after sterilizing them in the microwave) added them as a seasonal decorative touch. 'Twas very festive!

Happy (belated) Thankgiving!!

In Elena's Kitchen

2008-10-26T18:22:00.013Z

I have always been a near-fanatical enthusiast for Italian cuisine. The olive oil, breads, fresh tomatoes, cheeses, pasta...In fact, I think I could quite easily exist on a diet comprised solely of various pasta dishes (actually, as a student I practically did - although my dishes were a far cry from "traditional Italian" home comforts.) Anyway, imagine my delight when my Milanese-born friend Elena invited me to her house for a Sunday afternoon of pasta-making and cod-baking. Amazing! We happily cooked the hours away on this cold and dark Irish afternoon, transported to sunnier climes with the scent of onions, garlic, and basil simmering on her stove. Of course, it was all accompanied by a glass of Italian red wine, Marlboro lights (I know, terrible – but very continental!) and girly gossip. Heaven.

Although I usually write about my baking experiences, the recipes Elena introduced me to are too lovely to keep to myself. So, as a special treat, these are the skills I learned during my first official Italian cooking class!

Pasta Alla Norma
Elena told me that this particular pasta dish is named after the composer Vincenzo Bellini’s opera, “Norma.” Apparently he was such a fan of the dish that the combination of flavours became synonymous with the title of his opera.

For the pasta:
Ingredients (serves 4):

400 g plain flour
4 eggs (for every 100g of flour, add 1 egg)
pinch of salt

Method:
1. Clean your work surface very well. You will need a good bit of space.
2. Make a “mountain” of the flour in the middle of your surface. At the top of the mountain, make a little well.
3. Crack 2 eggs into the well. Begin to bring the ingredients together with your hands. After you have mixed it a bit, add the last 2 eggs.
4. Add your salt.
5. Work the dough using strong movements (similar to kneading bread) for 5-6 minutes. When ready, the dough should form a firm ball that is not too sticky.
6. Generously re-flour your work surface, as well as your dough, your hands, and your rolling pin.
7. Vigorously roll out your dough until it is thin enough to see through. You must work quickly or this will become difficult. 8. Using a large knife, cut your pasta vertically in the desired width. (We made tagliatelle, so ours was rather wide.) As your pasta strips will be quite long, cut them once horizontally, through the middle of your sheet of strips. 9. Lift the strips and place them to dry on a rack or a cutting board. Do not let the unfloured surface of the pieces touch or they will stick together and you will be left with a giant tangle of pasta to cook! 10. Leave them to rest while you work on the sauce. When you are ready to cook the pasta, drop the strips into a LARGE pot of generously salted, boiling water. Add 1 glug of olive oil. Cook for approximately 2 minutes. When the pasta is cooked it will begin to rise to the surface of the pot.

For the sauce:
Ingredients:

1 aubergine (eggplant)
½ red onion
2 cloves of garlic, whole
1 can tinned tomatoes
olive oil
fresh basil
fresh thyme
salt & pepper
sugar or a dash of fresh lemon zest (optional)

Method:
1. Begin with the aubergine. Slice it lengthwise into pieces about 1 ½ centimeters thick.
2. Coat the slices with salt, then place the aubergine in a colander. Cover with a paper towel and use something (like a bag of flour) placed on top of the paper towel for a bit of weight. Leave for about ½ an hour to remove some of the water from the aubergine.
3. Meanwhile, slice your onion thinly. In a saucepan, place your onion, garlic (whole) and a generous glug of olive oil. On a low/medium heat, cook until the onion begins to become translucent, about 6-7 minutes.
4. Add the can of tomatoes, salt and pepper. Reduce the heat and put a lid over the saucepan. Simmer for approximately ½ an hour.
5. While the sauce is simmering, remove your aubergine from the colander and place on a baking tray. Drizzle (again, generously) with olive oil. Add a handful of fresh thyme and a large pinch of freshly cracked black pepper. Salt is unnecessary as the aubergines have already been salted.
6. Bake in a preheated oven at 180 degrees for approximately 40 minutes (until golden.)
7. When the sauce is nearly ready, add a handful of fresh basil leaves and cook for a further 2-3 minutes. Chop the aubergine and add it to the sauce. If you want, you can now add either a pinch of sugar or a pinch of fresh lemon zest (taste to see if necessary.)
8. Before serving, remove the garlic and the basil leaves.

To serve, drain your cooked pasta and then return the pasta to the empty pot. Pour the sauce on top and delicately mix the two together, careful not to break your homemade tagliatelle! Top with some freshly grated cheese (we used Elena’s favourite, pecorino romano.) I can honestly say that this was one of the best pasta dishes I’ve ever tasted. I am greatly indebted to you, Ms. Elena!! Elena explained to me that in Italy, pasta is never served as a main course. Italians believe that starches (“like pasta or risotto,” she said) should come before the second course, always comprised of a protein (meat or fish.) As the fishmonger that she had visited earlier on Sunday morning was out of tuna steaks, Elena opted for cod fillets for our second course, Roasted Cod Alla Sicicilana.

Ingredients (serves 4):
4 cod fillets
1 punnet cherry tomatoes on the vine, cut into halves
½ red onion
fresh thyme
fresh herbs of your choice (we used thyme and basil), finely chopped
handful of black olives
handful of capers
olive oil
salt and pepper, to taste.

Method:
1. Place the cherry tomatoes, onions, a handful of fresh thyme, and salt and pepper in a baking tray. Roast at 180 for approximately 25 minutes.
2. In a separate dish, combine your freshly chopped herbs, capers, olives, olive oil, and salt and pepper.
3. When vegetables are cooked, remove baking tray from oven. Using a slotted spoon, lift out the vegetables and place on a clean baking tray to cool and drain.
4. Reserve the oil from the baking tray used to roast the vegetables and set aside.
5. Meanwhile, heat olive oil in a pan and sear the cod fillets, about 2 minutes on each side.
6. Transfer cod to a baking tray and bake in oven at 180 degrees for about 8-9 minutes.
7. Combine the roasted vegetables and marinated capers/olive/herb mixture into one bowl and mix well.
8. When the cod fillets are cooked, place each individual fillet on a plate. Drizzle with the oil used to roast the tomatoes and onions. Serve the vegetable medley alongside the fish.
Elena and I concluded our afternoon with two very full bellies and two wide smiles on our faces. We are now planning an afternoon of Italian cookies for our next adventure – she has already begun to dig out her old recipes and I cannot wait to try my hand at the adorable Brutti ma Buoni (“ugly but tasty”) biscotti I saw pictured in her cookbook!

I heart mini tarts.

2008-10-25T17:11:00.009+01:00

Although Halloween has yet to arrive, my imagination has already begun to envisage holiday treats and gatherings. One of my absolute favourite things to bake are miniature sweets – petits fours, but not necessarily reserved for post-meal consumption. I love to create miniature versions of dessert favourites, perfect to serve with an afternoon tea or a morning meeting of friends. They’re great for elegant evening parties as well. I find their daintiness ridiculously fanciful and appealing!

Recently, I devised two mini-tartlets to welcome in the change of season: a small apple compote, garnished with a sweetened toasted walnut and a tiny sprig of fresh mint

and a vanilla-mascarpone filled roasted fig tart, topped with toasted flaked almonds (and mini mint leaf.) I used a basic pâte brisée (short crust pastry) recipe to form the tart cases, and used a miniature cupcake mold as my baking tray. The recipe is as follows:

Pâte Brisée

Ingredients:
460 g plain flour
230 g butter, cold and cubed
1 tsp salt
1 tsp sugar
3-6 tbsp ice water

Method:
1. Put the flour, butter, salt, and sugar in a mixer (or lightly toss with your fingers) until it forms “breadcrumbs”
2. Add the ice water until the pastry dough clings together
3. Wrap in cling film and chill for at least 1 hour before rolling out

The trick is to ensure you don’t “over-handle” the pastry while you’re making it – a good pâte brisée should still have small but discernable chunks of butter throughout. This gives the finished tart case a flaky, buttery consistency, whereas an over-worked dough will feel slightly rubbery.

On a completely separate note, I received a request for a customized chocolate cake at the Café that I just had to share:
Brilliant, huh?!! For those of you who on unfamiliar with the Scottish delicacy that is haggis, click here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Haggis. I sure hope it tastes better, or I'm doing something seriously wrong...

A Dog's Life

2008-10-18T08:36:00.005+01:00

As a confirmed canine lover and all-round animal enthusiast, it was with some amusement that I recently executed an order for 300 dog-themed mini cupcakes. They were commissioned for a pet event here in Dublin - an all-encompassing venue dedicated to pet accessories, toys, food, etc. I certainly got a few funny looks when boxing up the finished product, as well as quite a few, "Are those for dogs?" The cupcakes were definitely for humans only, but it got me thinking that it might be fun to delve into baking some organic doggie biscuits...watch this space. I think Chewie (my mutt-tastic Irish streetfind) would approve...

Birthday Booty

2008-10-05T10:34:00.001+01:00

I made out like a bandit!! Cookbooks, cupcake books, adorable tea towels & a potholder, leopard print baking cases (!) and cupcake earrings....WOO HOO!! I am one happy lady.
Thanks to all my friends & fam! :)

May the Force be with You...F's 4th Birthday & R2D2 Cake!

2008-10-04T16:28:00.012+01:00

The birthday cake. F, at four, is already a bona fide sci-fi geek (which I actually think is pretty cool.) He spends his afternoons watching the original Star Wars videos and rocking out to the 1980s Transformers cartoons; his figurine collection rivals that of the most devoted adult collector (M is also a hardcore sci-fi nerd. Sigh.)

Anyway, back to the cake. F requested a Star Wars-themed birthday party, and I decided to try and make an R2D2 cake. Firstly, R2D2 is one of his favourite characters (what isn’t there to love about a smart-talking trash can?) And secondly, it seemed like an easy(ish) option in a sea of ridiculously hi-tech gadgets and alien-esque individuals to choose from.

I was pleased to discover that R2D2 was not as difficult an undertaking as I feared. Armed with a ruler, an office knife, sugar paste, and Sublime’s Sublime in the cd player, I set to work.

The entire cake took 2 (albeit lazy) days to make – the first day I baked the two sheet cakes (one vanilla and one lemon sponge), and the second evening I spent about 3 hours cutting, icing, and decorating.

I began by cutting out the basic shape of R2D2’s body and “legs”.
Then, I covered each piece in white roll-out icing.

I made a large batch of blue sugar paste and added decorative bits where necessary, using F’s figurine as a rough guide. I painted the top dome of R2D2 with a paintbrush and some liquid silver food colouring. Red and black licorice candies and some piped white royal icing completed the droid cake. I must admit to being quite pleased with my endeavour at the end of the evening! It was my first "specialty" cake - and my client was very happy with the result. The force must be strong with me. Sweet!

Dark Chocolate Fondant Cupcakes with Praline Cream Ganache

2008-09-25T17:02:00.004+01:00

Leafing through my battered, sugar-crusted recipe notebook, I stumbled across the chocolate fondant recipe I used while working as a commis chef at Harvey Nichols. With a few minor adjustments, the chocolate fondant cupcake was born - pure decadence encased in silver foil. This is a rich, practically debauched dessert – bound to excite and impress any serious chocoholic, and perhaps convert an indifferent chocolate dabbler into a devotee. It is best pared with something like a high-quality vanilla bean ice cream, or a white chocolate ice cream (Green & Black’s does a lovely organic white chocolate ice cream…divine!)

Admittedly, the recipe in it's entirety is a bit labour-intensive...but not too finicky, and the outcome is certainly worth the effort. Dig in and bliss out, darlings...

For the praline:

Ingredients:
250 g sugar
225 ml water
handful of nuts (almonds, hazelnuts, or pecans – as preferred)

Method:
1. Make a caramel with sugar and water
2. Add the nuts to the caramel and remove from the heat immediately
3. Pour onto a greased baking sheet or tray lined with non-stick baking paper.
4. Leave to cool. When cold, the praline can be crushed with a rolling pin or in a food processor. (Leave some aside, uncrushed, to use as a garnish and to munch on while you bake the rest of the recipe.)

for the dark chocolate fondant cupcakes:

Ingredients:
200 g caster sugar
5 eggs
250 g dark chocolate
250 g butter
125 g plain flour
25 g cocoa powder

Method:
1. Whisk together the sugar and eggs until nearly triple in volume
2. Melt the chocolate and butter together.
3. Pour the melted chocolate and butter into the egg and sugar. Mix gently.
4. Add the cocoa powder and flour. Mix only until all of the ingredients are combined – do not over mix, or your batter will become flat!
5. Using a piping bag or a large spoon, fill the cases with the mixture. Leave a bit of space at the top – the fondants will rise when cooking.
6. Bake them in a preheated oven at 180 degrees for 8-9 minutes. The inside should still be slightly gooey.

For the chocolate praline cream:

Ingredients:
500 ml cream
15 drops vanilla essence
550 g dark chocolate, broken into small pieces
250 g praline
100 g butter, softened

Method:
1. Heat the cream and vanilla to just below boiling, the pour it over the chocolate in a bowl. Stir until smooth.
2. Add the praline and butter. Stir until thoroughly combined and cool.

Honey & Almond Wholemeal Cake

2008-09-17T21:47:00.009+01:00

A photograph of this cake caught my eye while flicking through Saturday's The Guardian Magazine. Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall wrote an accompanying article (with recipes!) about the myriad uses of honey (www.guardian.co.uk/hughfearnleywhittingstall). The cake looked absolutely divine and I knew I'd be making it....I tweaked the recipe a teeny bit according to what I had in my cupboard. The recipe below is my version. The cake tastes as delicious as it looks - like a whimisical farmhouse teaparty. Perfect for autumn...

Honey and Almond Wholemeal Cake

(serves 9)

Ingredients:

350 g butter, softened

265 g demerara brown sugar

4 free range eggs

150 g ground almonds

75 g coarse wholemeal flour

75 g self-raising flour

2 tsp baking powder

flaked almonds

4-5 tbsp pure Irish honey

Method:

1. Preheat the oven to 170 degrees.

2. Beat the butter and sugar until light and fluffy.

3. Beat in the eggs, one at a time.

4. Fold in the ground almonds, flour, and baking powder.
5. Pour mixture into a lined 9 in. springform cake tin and sprinkle the top generously with flaked almonds.

6. Bake for 45 minutes, or until a toothpick or knife inserted into the cake comes out clean. Remove from oven.

7. While the cake is still in the tin, immediately drizzle honey over the top. Smooth slightly with the back of the spoon. The honey will form a lovely glaze.

As the cake cools, the honey seeps into it. The result is a scrumptious, sticky-glazed cake, with a moist centre. I polished off one slice with a big cup of black coffee yesterday afternoon. Pure comfort on the end of a fork.

Iron Cupcake: Earth. Basil Challenge

2008-09-15T21:41:00.020+01:00

After a few days brain-storming like a lunatic and one culinary mishap involving a hangover, 4 hours in the kitchen, and a near-vomiting episode due to a failed basil and passionfruit mascarpone, I succeeded!! Behold, the Basil-Infused Dark Chocolate and Orange Cupcake. Hooray!!

The earthy aroma of the fresh basil is a lovely complement to the tangy orange zest and the bitter richness of the dark chocolate. You can clearly taste the basil, but it isn't intrusive or over-powering...I must admit, without sounding like a self-obssessed cupcake meglomaniac, I am really proud of this recipe.

Obviously, I would love to win the challenge, so please vote for me!! Voting takes place from Sunday, September 28th through October 1st at :http://mkecupcakequeen.blogspot.com/ (I will obviously be posting a voting reminder closer to the date.)

The winner is the lucky recipient of a fabulous prize provided by:
http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=14597777
http://www.fiestaproducts.com/
http://blog.hellocupcakebook.com/
http://www.jessiesteele.com/
http://www.cupcakecourier.com/
http://www.tasteofhome.com/

The recipe is as follows:

for the icing:
Ingredients:
250 g butter, chopped
250 g dark chocolate chips
20 g fresh basil, chopped finely
zest of 1-2 oranges

Method:
1. Melt all of the ingredients together in a bain marie.
2. Remove from heat and transfer to a separate container - leave in the fridge to harden and cool slightly (about half an hour.)
3. Whisk the mixture until it becomes lighty and fluffy, with a buttercream consistency.

for the cupcakes:
(makes about 20)

Ingredients:
250 g dark chocolate chips
250 g butter
4 free-range eggs
340 g sugar
150 g plain flour
10 g fresh basil, finely chopped

Method:
1. Melt the chocolate and butter together in a saucepan, stirring often.
2. In a separate bowl, mix the eggs and sugar until they are pale yellow in colour.
3. Add the sugar, flour, fresh basil and mix to incorporate.
4. Finally, add the melted butter and chocolate.
5. Pour into baking cases and bake at 180 degrees for about 20 minutes.

Let the cupcakes cool completely before icing with the chocolate, orange, and basil buttercream. Garnish with a fresh basil leaf and orange zest.

A Very Belated Daring Bakers Challenge

2008-09-09T11:05:00.009+01:00

Although I offocially posted my first (hooray!!) Daring Bakers Challenge on the DB website at the end of August, I haven't been able to sit down and actually write about it. So here goes, only about a week and a half overdue...

The August challenge dictated that I needed to produce a batch of lovely chocolate eclairs. I was thrilled; I had only made eclairs once before, and that was about 4 years ago in pastry school. I dug out my old school notes for inspiration, and to reacquaint myself with the artful process of making pastry cream. Pastry cream, unlike the slightly similar (but less "set") creme anglaise, is something that I haven't had to make at all since leaving France. The French use it in nearly all of their gorgeous tartlets and choux puffs, but people seem to have abandoned it elsewhere - in favor of its runny custard cousin, creme anglaise.

I (rather sneakily) decided to make the eclairs at work, early on a Saturday morning. That way, I had instant access to all the ingredients and equipment necessary, and the leftovers would (hopefully) be gobbled up by staff, so as to prevent me from polishing off 8 eclairs by myself.

I was happy that the choux pastry formed without incident. I used the old school method of metal bowl and wooden spoon to bring everything together:

The pastry cream, which I decided to flavour with espresso, was less of a success. I made the terminal error of having to run across the kitchen (mid-whisk) to get a plastic receptacle to pour the finished product into - leaving a layer of almost-scrambled egg on the bottom of the pot. (As I was darting across the kitchen, cursing my lack of foresight, I was envisaging those little eggy bits forming...damn!!) The end result was salvagable, but I had to take the pastry cream off the hob before it had thickened completely...so my end result was tasty, but really runny. Oops.

Anyway, back to the choux pastry. It piped easily onto a lined baking tray:

Afterwards, I covered each line in eggwash and dragged a fork over the tops to create nice-looking grooves.

The pastry took longer to bake than I anticipated, but I breathed a sigh of relief when I took them out of the oven (about 35 minutes later, if I remember correctly.) There were 7 members of staff hovering around waiting for their treats and watching the eclairs' progress...I would have been slightly embarrassed had my little pastry puffs failed me. Instead, I faked self-confidence and grandiosely placed them on a wire rack to cool.

At this stage, with the finish line in sight, I only needed to fill the puffs with my espresso goo and soak up the applause from the waitstaff. I stole a pen top from a passing waiter and pushed two holes into the base of each eclair. Filling the eclairs was a rather messy affair; since my "pastry cream" was still liquid, it spilled all over everything - but in the end I managed it (just barely.)

I drizzled a simple dark chocolate ganache over the top (400 g cream, 400 g dark chocolate chips). I was pretty satisified with the end result, although in hindsight I would have decorated the eclairs differently. The cafe was beginning to get quite busy and I didn't have time to elaborate - I couldn't figure out how to make them look more elegant. Maybe some crumbled nuts on top as well? A chocolate covered espresso bean perched on one end? The next time I make these I'm going to work on presentation. The final result looked like this:

All in all, not bad for a 4 year hiatus! The eclairs were (thankfully) enthusiastically devoured by my coworkers, and despite the super-runny pastry cream consistency, they were really delicious! Good Saturday morning grub.

Now onto September's challenge....

Terra Madre Ireland 2008

2008-09-07T19:03:00.020+01:00

F. and I departed Thursday evening – embarking on a 2 ½ hour train ride down to Waterford, home of the renowned crystal and also the setting of Slow Food’s Terra Madre Ireland 2008. For the uninitiated, Slow Food (http://www.slowfood.com/) is an international association that promotes a return to traditional and ethical methods of food production (organic farming, local artisans, etc). The movement was conceived by its Italian founder, Carlo Petrini, as a protest to the ever-increasing presence of “fast food” in modern society. I have been interested in Slow Food for several years (I first encountered it as a teenager, eagerly reading Frances Mayes' Under the Tuscan Sun) - and finally fulfilled a longtime ambition by officially becoming a member once I settled in Ireland. Terra Madre, translated as "Mother Earth", is a huge international Slow Food conference, described as:

...an international ‘Network of networks’ – food producers and representatives of local communities, cooks, academics and young people – respectful of Planet Earth and the diverse tastes, foods and cultures of the people who inhabit it.

The pamphlets for the event arrived at the Cake Cake in April; I couldn't wait to go. My Terra Madre countdown began in early summer. The actual journey did not begin well, however. F. (being a restless toddler) decided that we needed to change seats during the train ride. We ended up sitting across from a shady-looking passenger. Regardless, he seemed nice enough - he even shared his packet of orange Viscount cookies with us (which I accepted, despite the fact I hate orange/chocolate biscuits, because I didn’t want to be rude. The irony…) Anyway, F. needed to be taken to the bathroom. The train stopped while we were occupied in the cubicle... upon emerging I discovered that my backpack and our fellow traveler were missing. In the bag’s place on the table were two more of those horrific Viscount biscuits. Honestly. The only saving grace is that I had, by divine intervention, placed my wallet in F’s bag. So the thief, in exchange for the cookies (let us not forget this bizarre thoughtfulness) was rewarded with a knapsack of cosmetics, an ancient mobile phone, my daily planner, and a change of clothes. Not very rewarding for him, terribly inconvienent for me. I was not looking forward to participating in Friday's festivities while plain-faced and wearing Thursday's work clothes! Ugh.....

We spent the night comfortably at the Days Hotel, Waterford. Friday morning we battled our way through torrential rain (in the backseat of a taxi) and arrived at WIT at around 8:30 am. Coffee was my initial priority, then registration. Due to the inclimate weather, a decision was made to do the opening ceremony in the lobby...I missed out on hearing any of the actual introductory speeches by Darina Allen (http://www.cookingisfun.ie/) and/or Carlo Petrini as the twittering of the large crowd and absence of a microphone made it impossible to decipher any words. I must admit I was disappointed to have not heard Mr. Petrini's speech, as he is a renowned public speaker, but I imagine he was quite inspirational.

Following the speeches, participants in the convention dispersed to their chosen “workshops”. These ranged from food tourism to cattle raising. Our group’s initiative was to concoct a program to present to the Irish government, urging the creation of school gardens and food-cycle awareness as part of school curricula. As a both a mother and a cook, I found the workshop extremely exciting. There was a great mix of people involved, and it was invigorating to brainstorm with such an inspiring and intelligent group of individuals. I truly believe that our goal is attainable, and it is definitely something that I will continue to work on. For more information on what we are striving for, check out Alice Waters and The Edible Schoolyard at: http://www.edibleschoolyard.org/ppl_aw.html)Lunch was a low-key but tasty affair in the canteen. F. and I arrived a little early and we were offered a choice of bacon and cabbage or Irish stew. No question as to what country we’re in, eh? I know Ireland is linked with corned beef and cabbage, but...we both opted for the Irish stew, and it was actually quite good. I must admit, I’m not a massive Irish stew fan, but F. gobbled up the potato and lamb with great gusto (his dad is Irish, so I guess his affinity isn’t that surprising…) Dessert was a simple berry compote, topped with freshly whipped cream. Lovely. As we were leaving, I spotted people with mussels and steamed veggies piled high on their plates, so maybe we were penalized for our peckishness!

The afternoon train back to Dublin was uneventful (thankfully.) I would have loved to have stayed longer (the farmer's market looked absolutely breathtaking!!), but there was bread to bake the following morning in the Cafe - and besides, I couldn't face another day in those clothes! I left happy to have participated, and am now armed with a barrage of food pamphlets, and an abundance of information from like-minded individuals and organizations. Some of my favourites are listed below:

Terra Madre Ireland http://terramadreireland.com/
Airfield Trust House and Farm http://www.airfield.ie/
Irish Seedsavers http://www.irishseedsavers.ie/
Organic Centre Leitrim http://www.theorganiccentre.ie/

Green Schools Ireland http://www.greenschoolsireland.org/

Baking instructions, bridal magazines, and brandy-fuelled debauchery....one long post!!

2008-08-29T17:00:00.013+01:00

My goodness, have I been seriously busy lately!! First of all, I successfully completed my first two experiences as a baking teacher!! The last two Monday evenings I spent showing a small group of six individuals how to make:Rosemary & Sea Salt Dinner Rolls, as well as:Squishy Dark Chocolate and Walnut Brownies (topped with a bit of whipped cream, chocolate ganache, and a caramel garnish). Finally, (and my favourite) were the:Banoffee Cupcakes!! By far the highlight of the class (as far as I'm concerned anyway) - I was really pleased with how these cupcakes turned out - they are ridiculously decadent and not for the faint-hearted when it comes to sugar intake. If anyone is interested, I'd be happy to post the recipe.

Lucky for me, the classes seem to be a success, and I am one step closer to my ultimate goal of TV Baker Personality Extraordinaire!! haha. In all seriousness, though, I am absolutely thrilled that the classes went smoothly and that all of the people who participated left happy and sugar-sated.

Following the classes, I had the great oppurtunity to design and create cupcakes for an upcoming issue of Irish Brides Magazine. The future issue (November, I think) will have two themes: gold and butterflies. I really had a lot of fun designing the cupcakes, and I think its probably ok if I show one photo of the final result:The gold cupcake in the background is a tower of caramel strands with golden decorative sugar balls throughout the caramel and a white royal icing base. The second gold cake is simply a white royal icing base with a handmade and handpainted ivory & gold marzipan rose on top. I really want to learn more about flower-making and sugarcraft in pastry...I always adore the outcome, but the marzipan rose is pretty much the only element in my faux flower repetoire.

The butterfly cupcake is two lace butterflies found at the fabric store glued to hat pins!! I really like the look of that one. I threw in a silver/hearts cupcake just to even out the selection...

And FINALLY, last Sunday was the awards ceremony for Irish Food & Wine Magazine. I am THRILLED beyond belief that the Cake Cake won for most innovative!! We had a WILD night (a little too wild for me, truth be told - the bits that I remember I'm trying to forget...) but it was a great day for everyone. I guess one must anticipate a bit of debauhcery when the day starts with a 12:30 pm champagne reception, followed by a 5 course meal, each with an accompanying glass of wine, and....wait for it...a post-awards ceremony Hennessy cocktail reception!! Good lord!! We all had fun posing with the plaque once the booze had kicked in. Pure class.

Anyway, in the aftermath of the ceremony, I intend to try and take it easy. I'm heading down to Waterford next weekend for the Slow Food Terra Madre event, but that should be fairly low-key, especially as F. is coming down to keep me company. PHEW!!

For the Love of Banoffee

2008-08-17T17:21:00.004+01:00

The Irish are mad for banoffee pie. I hadn't encountered this delectable combination of banana, caramel, chocolate, & whipped cream prior to my arrival on the Emerald Isle; I can now firmly admit to being a devotee. Anyway, I recently attempted my own version of banoffee pie, with the results above & the recipe below. Now that I'm on a bit of a banoffee kick, I've decided to add a banoffee cupcake to the baking class I'm teaching tomorrow at the cafe.

The aforementioned baking class is taking place tomorrow evening after work - and I am soooo excited about it! I've been teaching cookery classes since February, but this will be the first baking evening. I'll post the results later this week - I've decided to do a rosemary dinner roll, walnut brownies, banoffee cupcakes, and a very basic shortcrust pastry. I'm unsure as to the level of the people coming to the class, so I thought it would be a good idea to mix some very basic stuff (yeast bread, brownies) with some things that people might not usually attempt at home, like a fancy cupcake or homemade pastry dough. Wish me luck!

Banoffee Pie

Ingredients:
275 g butter
25o g gingernut biscuit, crushed
175 g caster sugar
380 g condensed milk
2 bananas
150 ml double cream, whipped

Method:
1. Melt 100 g of butter and stir into crushed biscuits. Press into the base of a 9" tin, chill 30 minutes.
2. Place the rest of butter and sugar in saucepan over low heat, until butter melts. Add condensed milk and bring to the boil, stirring constantly!!
3. Boil for 5 minutes exactly - stirring constantly, to make a light golden caramel.
4. Pour caramel over the biscuit base and chill for about 1 1/2 hours, until firm.
5. Slice the bananas and arrange them over the caramel.
6. Spread the whipped cream on top
7. Decorate with remaining banana and some drizzled dark chocolate.

Eat Cake, Worship Satan.

2008-08-13T18:14:00.012+01:00

What is the appropriate (very belated) birthday treat for your girlfriend with a penchant for punk rock, phantasms, and pints of the black stuff? Nearly two months after S’s birthday celebrations (sorry, darling!), I finally got it together and created her a custom cupcake. I used Nigella Lawson’s Guinness and chocolate cake recipe (found in Feast). It lends itself quite well to cupcakes, however, if you shorten the baking time. I concocted the recipe for the icing to add an extra kick of Guinness flavor.

S. and I met up Tuesday evening and I (rather sheepishly) delivered her overdue gift. Luckily, the stout-infused, skull-adorned cakes were a success; had I been able to find leopard-print baking cases they would have been perfection.

Happy Birthday, Sarah!! xox

Guinness Cupcakes

Ingredients:
250 ml Guinness
250 g unsalted butter

75 g cocoa powder
400 g caster sugar

145 ml sour cream
2 eggs
1 tbsp vanilla extract

275g plain flour
2 ½ tsp bicarbonate of soda

Method:
1. Place the butter and Guinness together in a saucepan. Heat until butter is completely melted and let simmer for an extra minute or two.
2. Combine the cocoa powder and sugar. Whisk into the Guinness & butter.
3. Beat the sour cream and eggs together. Add to the mix.
4. Finally, add the flour and bicarbonate of soda. Mix/stir thoroughly.

Bake cupcakes for about 20 minutes at 180 degrees.

for the icing:

Ingredients:
300 g cream cheese
80 g icing (powdered) sugar
75 g cream
90 g Guinness

Method:
1. Whisk all ingredients until the icing becomes stiff and has a frosting-like consistency.
2. The piped chocolate ganache skulls are optional - for those with a penchant for gothic awesomeness. Yes!

Baking with Toddlers

2008-08-10T11:28:00.005+01:00

Sundays. The traditional day of rest usually begins around sunrise for me, as this is the hour that the first rays of light trickle through my toddler son’s window, prompting a barrage of “MOMMY!”s from the adjacent bedroom. Post-coffee, my requisite thought is one of scheduling: what in God’s name can I do to occupy this inexhaustible bundle of energy for the next 12 hours? Luckily, I have stumbled upon a (temporary) solution – the performance art piece that is baking with toddlers.
In the event that your culinary attempt fails miserably, you are at the very least in possession of a countertop Pollock-esque piece that your friends and family can indulgently smile and coo over. Plus, kids love the inevitable sticky mess.
Speaking of sticky messes, the project that F. and I decided on this morning was (the very la-dee-da sounding) sticky toffee pudding. I think it is necessary to adopt a very posh English accent when announcing this dessert. Since this recipe contains dates (or raisins, if you prefer), I also think its fair to say that one can confidently eat it for breakfast (which we did.)
The recipe for our delectable sticky toffee pudding (Jeeves, we will take our tea in the drawing room, please) is below. I adapted it from one of M’s Australian cookbooks, which is unfortunate, as the Aussies have a much less aristocratic accent. Bother.

Sticky Toffee Pudding
serves 10

Ingredients:
225 g pitted dates or raisins
250 ml boiling water
2 g bicarbonate of soda
110 g unsalted butter
185 g caster sugar
110 g plain flour, sifted
110 g self raising flour, sifted
3 eggs

for the toffee sauce:
265 g brown sugar
150 g butter
185 ml cream
1 ½ tsp vanilla essence

Method:
1. Mix together the dates/raisins, boiling water, and bicarbonate of soda. Set aside for at least 30 minutes.
2. Cream the butter and sugar.
3. Add the eggs, one at a time, to the butter & sugar.
4. Add the flour.
5. Finally, add the date/raisin mixture. Stir well to incorporate.

Pour into a lined cake tin/tray and bake at 180 degrees (gas mark 4) for approximately 40 minutes. I like to bake individual puddings in ramekins or fondant molds – in this case, reduce the cooking time to approximately 30 minutes, checking frequently to ensure the puddings cook properly.

for the toffee sauce:
1. Combine all ingredients in a sauce pan.
2. Bring to a boil, and then simmer for 5 minutes until the mixture reaches a thick consistency.
3. Prick the baked puddings with a fork or toothpick and generously pour the toffee sauce over each individual portion, or over the entire tray. The sauce will sink into the cake and create a delicious filling as well as topping. Delightful, daaaahling!!

Berlin, baby.

2008-08-06T18:41:00.008+01:00

I returned Monday morning from a fabulous four days in Berlin with my illustrious hosts, B & C. (Actually, it was five days because I missed my flight home on Sunday morning, but I figure crawling to the airport at 6 am on Monday morning after splashing out an extra 200 bucks for a new plane ticket doesn’t really count as the fifth day of a holiday…damn.) Anyway, with the exception of the unexpected budget increase, I had an amazing time in Europe’s current coolest city.

Berlin was badass in the culinary department, and it goes without saying that the most kickin’ spot in Berlin for a bit of sweetness & love is Cupcake, located on 12 Krossener Str. (in the Friedrichshain area.) Cupcake is owned by Dawn & Bader; I had the great pleasure of meeting these splendid folks and sampling their sugar wares while in the area. (Ok, I admit it, I made a cupcake pilgrimage and sought them out. And they are unbelievably awesome!) I stopped by first on Friday afternoon, with B& C in tow, for a single-minded cake chow down. I had the cookies & cream cupcake (chocolate cake with oreo-infused buttercream icing), B. had “The King” (chocolate cake with peanut butter buttercream), and C. scarfed a “Lemondrop” (lemon cake with a lovely lemon buttercream swirl.) The cupcakes are massive, squishy, and delicious. We each accompanied our cake with coffee: super strong, black, and tasty. Total bliss. Dawn has managed to perfectly recreate the American cupcake - nearly IMPOSSIBLE to find in Europe. During a Saturday wander, after a very successful trip to a 4-floor (!) secondhand shop, B. and I felt a bit peckish and mosied into a welcoming-looking place on Simon-Dach-Strasse (again in the Friedrichshain area.) La Tienda del Barrio serves HUMUNGOUS slices of homemade-looking pies, in granny chic flavours like cherry and rhubarb. We shared a slice of the cherry pie; goodness! The old school crumble topping would make Martha Stewart proud. Whole cherries in the tart filling literally exploded in our mouths as we each tried to devour the most pastry (it was definitely a “more for me, less for you” mentality.) I gulped down an equally massive Americano (this place is not shy with portion size) and buzzed around for the rest of the afternoon strung out on sugar and caffeine. Due to the large Turkish community in Berlin, kebab shops are extremely popular, and a very cost-effective way of dining out. B. and I discovered Tigris (much further down Simon-dach-Strasse) and enjoyed two fantastic meals there during my visit. I am an enormous falafel enthusiast, and this place did not disappoint. Despite the fact that I had to communicate through sign language (my fault for not speaking a word of German - save ‘guten tag’ and ‘scheisse’ ), my meals arrived lovingly prepared, and more importantly, they were delicious, crunchy, and fresh. The only element that I was unsure about was a lemony-hummus type thing served with both my hummus platter (meal #1) and my makali/aubergine sandwich (meal #2). It wasn’t bad, just different, and I’d be curious to know its culinary origins. As I thought I was leaving Sunday evening, I headed to Cupcake that afternoon for a farewell snack. Dawn and Bada were extremely hospitable, and extended an invitation for veggie burgers and beer that night at Tiki Heart, a kind of punk rock shop/restaurant in Kreuzberg. I happily joined them that evening and we had an absolute blast (thanks again guys!!) Six hours later I stumbled from B. & C’s couch and onto the commuter train to the airport…dreadful. Luckily, Dawn had packed me a lemondrop cupcake for the road, so I had a little something to smile about. for photos from the trip, check out: http://www.flickr.com/photos/nepenthe0410/sets/72157606576248480/

Crackers!!

2008-08-01T10:59:00.002+01:00

I am extremely excited, for the very simple reason that yesterday I made my own crackers!! The recipe is really simple, and I was thrilled with the results - how cool is it to be able to tell your guests that YOU made the crackers that they are now enjoying alongside the camembert? :) I adapted the recipe from Darina Allen's Ballymaloe Cookbook:

110 g wholemeal flour
110 g plain flour
25 g butter
1 tsp sait
1/2 tsp baking powder
100 g grated cheese (I used a very hard Irish cheddar)
5 tbsp cream
water

Method:

1. Rub the butter into the flour, salt and baking powder until the mixture forms a sand-like texture. Add the grated cheese.
2. Add thr cream and enough water to form a firm dough.
3. Wrap in cling film and put in fridge for 1/2 hour.
4. Roll out dough quite thin and use cutter to make small circles or squares. Bake on a lined tray for 20-25 minutes at 180, or until crackers are crispy and brown.
5. Enjoy!

Restaurant Patrick Guilbaud & other ramblings....

2008-07-24T15:52:00.005+01:00

Oh good Lord. I've been very bad, and haven't written anything in nearly a MONTH. Disgraceful, I know, and not a good way to get people particularly interested in what I'm writing about...but whatever. Life has been quite busy at chez Petite Patissiere - we have adopted a (psychotic) pup, and celebrated a slew of birthdays in the last month. Phew!

First things first, the dog. His name is Chewie (after Chewbacca - F. named him, 'nuff said.) We found him wandering around the canal road next to our house. He followed us for a few blocks, so we took him to the local vet to see if anyone had reported him missing. Three days later, still no dice, so we adopted him (next stop was the pound, 2 days later doggy heaven, apparently.) He has made a great nuisance of himself, and is bound and determined to murder the rabbit, but we love him all the same. If the landlord finds out we are keeping pets, we'll be homeless, but I think they're worth it. :)

In other news, it is M.'s birthday today, so I took him to Restaurant Patrick Guilbaud for a celebratory bday lunch. We actually begun the festivities with a bloody mary at the Shelbourne Hotel around noon - how fabulously decadent of us, Darlings, no? Anyway, lunch was absolutely phenomenal & surpassed any dining experience I have had thus far. I suppose this is to be expected when one is dining at a 2 Michelin-starred restaurant, but still, it was exquisite, and I appreciated every moment of it. Very briefly, I'll elaborate: I had a duck breast salad with grapefruit ice as an appetizer. The duck was like butter and the grapefruit complimented the flavour perfectly. Mains was pork belly with carmelized apple and onion. It was my first time eating pork belly, and despite the fact that one is practically munching seasoned fat, I wanted to cry it was so delicious. Dessert (oh dessert!!) was a strawberry macaroon, garnished with fresh strawberries and vanilla cream, served with a side of pistachio ice cream. So good I was tempted to lick my plate. I nearly did. I sort of tried to sneakily run my spoon over the plate so as to leave nothing but the slightest tinge of pale green, where a perfectly-formed quenelle of pastachio ice cream once nestled. Heaven. The coffee and petite fours were AMAZING as well; when I eat food like this it makes me wonder if I should go back and work in fine dining again, but I'm quite conflicted....

Anyway, as usual, I have no time to be writing, although I am determined to become better at regular posts. F. is currently waiting to be collected from creche, and I am haphazardly banging this out at an internet cafe on Dame St....as soon as I am able to afford at-home interent connection, my life will be transformed....

If anyone is reading this, I promise new recipes soon; If no one is reading this, I will post them purely for my own self-satisfaction :p

strawberry shortcake (cupcake!!)

2008-06-26T13:58:00.005+01:00

The taste of fresh berries, particularly strawberries and blueberries, is the absolute definition of summer for me. In August, my mom used to make my sister and I a breakfast she simply called “Mom’s Special.” It consisted of mixing fresh blueberries and freshly chopped strawberries in a bowl, sprinkling them with caster sugar, and dousing the mix in milk. It was my favorite thing to eat in the hot months. We benefited from having a beach house in southern New Jersey; you could stop along the highway on your way to the beach and pick your own blueberries from the dusty bushes. Once the family station wagon pulled into the pebbled driveway, we knew that we’d be eatin’ well for the rest of our visit. I have yet to experience, anywhere, the quality of produce you get in south Jersey’s summertime – tomatoes, corn, and those luscious, explosive berries.

I’ve been writing a lot about quintessential American summer lately; I think its because its the one thing I truly miss: 3-4 months of scorching heat, even the stifling humidity. The desperate, genuine need to take a swim in order to cool off. The sensation of the back of your thighs instantly and excruciatingly adhering to searing-hot car seats. Sitting in the patio section of restaurants, under a yellow umbrella, with a pitcher of some sort of ice-cold beverage for the table to share. Strawberry shortcake.As the rain bombards Dublin, and I am walking to work wearing a hoodie and a raincoat in June, I have become a bit nostalgic for my native weather. One thing that matches, if not rivals, those prized New Jersey strawberries are the organic Irish strawberries we use in the café – straight from a farm in Co. Wicklow. They are, quite simply, amazing. I am in love with them, and the people that grow them. Yesterday I made an organic strawberry compote. I then prepared a tiny, smile-inducing tribute to my Virginian/New Jersey summers – a strawberry shortcake cupcake. Bliss.

Organic Irish Strawberry Compote

Ingredients:

1 kilo strawberries
¼ cup caster sugar
juice of ½-1 whole lemon (to taste)
½ vanilla pod, split

Method:

Wash the strawberries. Pat them dry gently. Cut off the stem and then cut the berry in half.
Put the berries halves in a large pot, medium-high heat. Add the sugar and mix well.
When a slight red syrup is visible in the base of the pot, add the vanilla bean and lemon juice. Mix well.
Leave to simmer for about 10 minutes. Taste, and add more lemon juice (or another dash of sugar) if necessary. You shouldn’t be able to taste lemon, but the flavor of the strawberries should really “pop”.
The compote may need another 5 minutes until its finished. You want the berries to be soft, but not shapeless balls of mush.
When cooked, let the compote cool and transfer to glass jars for storage.

Paris, Darling: A (Mini) Food Pilgrimage

2008-06-22T13:36:00.010+01:00

Last month M. and I travelled to Paris for a few days to visit some of my old friends and indulge in a few French foodgasms. I was desperate to find the Rose Bakery, as we use the cookbook (Breakfast, Lunch, and Tea) at the Cake Cafe a bit and the place looked amazing. I was particularly anxious to try the carrot cake, as the book declared this to be one of their most popular dishes - yet when I had attempted the recipe at work the result was decidedly just ok. Anyway, after traipsing up the hill that is Rue Des Martyrs, we eventually stumbled upon the whitewashed brick facade. We each had an espresso (lovely) and a slice of the carrot cake (just ok.) Hmmmm. Still, I love the fact that every table gets a Brita water filter (kind of quirky), and obviously, I endorse the locally sourced, seasonal fare. Definitely worth the trip, but I wasn't blown away by the offerings. I took a photo of the carrot cake when it arrived at our table (much to the amusement of our neighboring diners), and I sneakily snapped a picture of the entry as I was exiting.

The next stop was Angelina - a super-decadent sweet-lovers heaven, located on Rue de Rivoli. Apparently Coco Chanel was a fan, and it is not hard to see why. The interior is unbelievably lavish and one cannot help but feel like a privileged true Parisian while eating here, although nearly every table is occupied by tourists. Despite it being around 30 degrees outside (around 80-ish I think in the States), I forced M. to order one of their world famous hot chocolates. It is basically hot fudge sauce served with a side of steaming cream. Amazing on freezing city afternoons; delicious but difficult to finish on a summer's day. I opted for a cafe creme and a passionfruit and white chocolate savarin. It was beautifully presented, and decadently tasty, but after a few bites I was finished. In all honesty, I often find French pastries too rich. I love oooing and ahhing over their often breathtaking beauty, but when it comes down to devouring them I can only stand about three bites before my stomach surrenders. I suppose this is the idea behind the book French Women Don't Get Fat. If only I could resist cupcakes so easily....

The last destination was Macaron Mecca: Laduree. M. and I paid homage to the shop in St. Germain des Pres, and my goodness, was it divine. I purchased two sampler boxes - one for personal use and one to bring the gang back at the cafe. Even the boxes where unbelievably elegant (a month later, mine is still on my bedside table as a decoration. Ha ha ha.) Each flavour was amazingly crafted and distinct - my definite favorite, however, was the lemon. It was like a little disk of crunchy lemon curd that yielded to swishy lemonlovesex. Heaven.

Ladybug Cupcakes

2008-06-20T20:57:00.010+01:00

Ah, the summer months of sunny Dublin. Weekends are whiled away indoors, radiators still occasionally clank into use, and the wind and rain mercilessly assault body and soul. Sweat-drenched barbeques in Virginia’s sweltering heat are, 4 years into the picture, a very distant memory. So, in an attempt to bring a bit of summer to Ireland’s June, F. and I decided to create some miniature ladybug cupcakes. They were pretty quick to make and yielded some cute results. Afterwards, we arranged them amongst the kitchen cacti and crockery, in an attempt to create a bit of a (surreal) summer atmosphere. Cacti, teacups, and ladybugs – the epitome of summer for a resourceful three year old and his cabin-fever-gripped mother.

Here’s the recipe:
Ingredients:
for the cupcakes
200 g self-raising flour, sifted
200 g salted butter
200 g caster sugar
4 large eggs

Method:
1. Cream the sugar and butter until light and fluffy, and pale yellow in color.
2. Add the eggs, slowly.
3. Add the flour
4. Mix everything at a high speed for a minute or two - the final batter should be very light and fluffy

for the icing
2 egg whites, whipped
280 g icing sugar, sifted
lemon juice
food coloring gel (black & red)

Method:
1. Add the sugar to the whites, whisk at high speed until stiff
2. Add lemon juice until icing is desired consistency

Bake the cupcakes at 180 degrees for about 15 minutes, until they are golden and lovely-looking.
Using a butter knife, ice the tops red. Make a small piping bag and decorate.

Sweetly Spiced Chai Tea Panna Cotta

2008-06-18T16:38:00.002+01:00

Sweetly Spiced Chai Tea Panna Cotta

serves 3-4

Ingredients:

225 g cream
75 g whole milk
35 g caster sugar
2 g chai tea, loose (kingfisher “pure chai black tea” is lovely)
1.5 leaves gelatine

Method:

Place gelatine in a bowl of cold water to soften.
Place all of the other ingredients in a pan and bring to the boil, stirring occasionally.
When the mixture boils, remove from heat & add gelatine (after squeezing excess water from leaves.) Stir quickly to ensure that the gelatine completely dissolves.
Pass the mixture through a fine sieve – this will strain the tea and allow you to determine whether the gelatine has properly melted (there should be no jelly-like bits caught in the sieve, or your panna cotta will not set.)
Pour the panna cotta into teacups (any sort of cup or ramekin will do) and place in the refrigerator for at least one hour to set, prior to serving.
Serve with a wafer-thin ginger or rosewater biscuit. Garnish with a dried vanilla bean, rose petals, or cardamom seeds.