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Brazo de Mercedes

2009-11-03T11:38:00.007+08:00

Filipino Meringue-Custard Roulade

RP = Republic of the Philippines, just so you know.
When I was in Greenville, North Carolina, one of my kind hosts requested a dessert. Actually there were three mentioned: 1) Food for the Gods (to come later), 2) Tiramisu (unfortunately we couldn't find Savoiardi and I was strapped for time to make some), and 3) Brazo de Mercedes. I couldn't pass up on the opportunity to make something she missed dearly and probably couldn't get any other way in Greenville. It must have been something she really missed! It got me thinking about the things I'd miss most about the Philippines if I were to ever leave.

Family. No matter how small the occasion, they are always there at your doorstep in a heartbeat. And I have a pretty awesome family.

Books and magazines. I love Filipino bookstores. Our shelves have a massive variety of books (and yes, cookbooks) from the US, UK, Australia, Singapore, India, and China (and of course local ones). Whenever I set foot in a Borders or Barnes & Noble (any store that isn't a specialty cookbook shop), it's always all-American and there just isn't enough variety to sustain my interests (thank God for Amazon, huh?). We also catch surplus magazines from all over the world, and I save plenty by buying back issues for $1-$4 a pop.

Cheap tools. I can get a very nice aluminum cake pan (straight-sided and deep, which is the ONLY way to go as far as I'm concerned) for $3. That much money in the US can only get me an aluminum foil pan (and I don't like wasteful disposables).

Availability of ingredients. Though the timing can be very narrow for some items like peaches or raspberries, they eventually find their way here. But I usually can find whatever I want (though some things, like imported cheese, cost a pretty penny).

The best mangoes you will find in the world. Period.

The sun comes up at about 6AM and goes down about 6PM throughout the year.

A $6 taxi ride will take you very far. A $25 plane ticket can take you to lovely resort islands. In the US $20 is a ten-minute taxi ride.

It's a walker's country. Everyone understands that not everyone can own a car, so the streets-- even highways-- are made so you can, if you have enough energy, walk to wherever you want.

All eats are cheap eats. And most are good eats. After dropping $6 for my perennial weakness-- steamed barbecued pork buns-- in the US, my heart leaps for the ones here, which go for only $1. And I can never forget the tastes of home. Which reminds me, I have to get cracking on actually learning how to make them!

COME TO THE PHILIPPINES
I'm not a very good hypnotist, ha ha.

Brazo de Mercedes' origins are not well-known. From the name one can infer that it's actually a Spanish dessert, but it's more likely that someone slapped a Spanish name on an original Filipino dish to make it sound posh (the Philippines was a colony of Spain from 1565 to 1898). If anyone can clarify the matter for me, I'd very much appreciate it!

Brazo de Mercedes is a roulade made of a meringue sheet with a yema ("yolk") filling. It can be made with just yolks and sugar, or with milk, or in this case, condensed milk. Some people like to eat only the filling but it can be really sweet so it's better to balance it out with a bit of the meringue with each bite. It's actually not hard to make and in fact, the person who took the pictures of the procedure was inspired to make one herself. How good is it? Well, I thought the family would take it slow since it was so sweet, but it was gone in a few hours!

Brazo de Mercedes
You can decrease the sugar in the meringue to make it less sweet but take note that you may not achieve very stiff peaks (and be careful not to overbeat it). I originally cooked the custard for 14 minutes (as the original recipe was unclear), but it thickens quite a bit as it cools, so for a custard that stays put but is less firm, try 10-11 minutes instead. I noticed that after 30 minutes in a low oven, the meringue did not brown, so I broiled it for 1 minute so it would get that characteristic color. There are some recipes that call for the meringue to be baked at higher temperatures but I can't vouch for them.

10 large egg whites

1 teaspoon cream of tartar

200g (1 cup) sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla

Preheat oven to 115°C (250°F). Spray with baking spray, line with parchment, and spray again a 25x38cm (10x15 inch) sheet pan.

In a large mixing bowl, beat the egg whites until frothy, then add the cream of tartar and beat at high speed until soft peaks form. Start to add the sugar gradually while beating until the meringue forms very stiff, shiny peaks (do not overbeat- it would be better to underdo than overdo it). Fold in the vanilla.

Above: soft peaks.

Spread the meringue evenly on the prepared pan. I covered only about 25cm (10 inches) of the length for a thicker meringue. The neatness of the ends don't matter as they will be cut off. Using a cake comb or serrated knife, make a wave pattern over the surface. Bake for 30 minutes or until set, then turn on the broiler and broil for a minute or until the surface is light brown. The surface might bubble up and get deformed, but it will settle as it cools.

Filling

10 large egg yolks

397g (1 can or 1-1/4 cup) sweetened condensed milk

1 teaspoon vanilla

In a heatproof bowl set over a saucepan of simmering water, combine the egg yolks and condensed milk and whisk until thick, about 10-11 minutes (longer will make for a very thick custard). Take it off the heat and stir in the vanilla.

Place a sheet of parchment slightly bigger than the meringue sheet on the counter and dust with confectioner's sugar (or cornstarch if there's none available). Remove the meringue sheet with its parchment from the sheet pan and invert it, parchment and all, onto the dusted parchment on the counter. Peel off the parchment it baked in. Orient the meringue so one of the long sides is in front of you. Pipe the warm filling on one of the long sides of the meringue (you can also spoon it on). Using the parchment as a guide, roll up the meringue sheet away from you, compressing it as you go so the filling is compact. Place on a serving platter and cool completely. Refrigerate until serving time. You can remove the confectioner's sugar or cornstarch by gently brushing it away with a pastry brush, or you can dust the roll with more confectioner's sugar if desired.

Tartine's Gougères

2009-10-25T20:33:00.006+08:00

The strangest thing happened to me when I was walking the streets of San Francisco last month. For some reason I wanted to enter a camera shop so I can find a way to clean the lens of my Powershot G7 and a good tripod. Being a tourist (and click-happy at that), I was always armed with my G7 hanging around my neck, but I found that I couldn't enter the camera shop. Because there were enthusiasts hanging outside the door. With their spiffy SLRs.

Can you believe that? I was embarrassed. I'm trying hard to think whether I embarrass easily. There was a party where I once set the dance floor on fire-- and not in a good way. But I was completely untouched by alcohol; I just did it because I liked moving my ass. I eat out by myself all the time. And I am not ashamed to fall hard on my ass on the skating rink; I just laugh it off (serves me right for going so fast). But just put a group of photogs together and I shrink.

"Oh, how adorable," I imagine them thinking, "he's come to the shop to upgrade his widdle toy." I have NO idea where I get this perception that photogs are snobs (or bullies)-- certainly I'm friends with many who are not-- but there's something intimidating about putting them all in one place. Click click click!

Maybe the difference is that no-one expects me to be Wayne Gretzky on the ice or, uh, (some professional dancer) at a party. Except I don't understand what it is in me that thinks everyone who steps into a camera shop is a pro. But I do know that if I never took a chance snapping away on the street with my camera or picking up speed on the ice, I would never get anywhere with my photographs or my skating. (On the other hand, no amount of crazy dancing will make me good!)

This is the eleventh month of my Tartine journey with Lisa, though I've made a few more recipes from the book than we talked about. These gougères are great served as hors d'oeuvres with a glass of wine, but when you make the large versions as I've done here, they're also quite nice for breakfast. Be sure to check out Lisa's version to be published in a few days!

Gougères from Tartine

310g (1-1/4 cups) nonfat milk (or water, or half whole milk and half water)

140g (10 tablespoons) unsalted butter

1 teaspoon salt

140g (1 cup) all-purpose flour

5 large eggs

115g (4oz or 3/4 cup grated) Gruyère cheese, grated

1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

1 tablespoon fresh thyme, minced

Topping:

1 large egg

pinch of salt

grated Gruyère cheese for sprinkling

Preheat the oven to 175°C (350°F). Line a sheet pan with parchment.

In a heavy-bottomed saucepan, combine the milk, butter, and 1 teaspoon salt and place over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until it comes to a rolling boil. Dump all the flour in and stir madly with a wooden spoon until it forms a smooth mass that pulls away from the sides of the pan, leaving a thin film of dried dough on the bottom, about 3 minutes.

Place the dough in a large mixing bowl and beat for about a minute, then add each of the 5 eggs, one at a time, beating at medium speed until smooth. Stir in the cheese, pepper, and thyme. Transfer the dough to a pastry bag fitted with a 1/2-inch plain tip and pipe 3-inch rounds about 1 inch high onto the baking sheet about 2 inches apart (if making hors d'oeuvres, make 1-inch mounds 1-1/2 inches apart).

In a small bowl, whisk the egg and salt together and brush the tops of the mounds with the egg wash. Lightly sprinkle each with a little grated Gruyère. Bake them for 35 to 45 minutes (25 minutes for the small versions), or until golden brown. Puncture the bottom of each with a knife and cool in the turned-off oven until serving (I store them upside-down to allow the steam to escape). Serve warm or at room temperature.

Southern Comfort (Greenville, North Carolina)

2009-10-18T23:01:00.002+08:00

Already I have new pictures from San Francisco, but as many of my friends have just come from there, it seems pretty lame to post them so soon. For now, I'm going to be talking about the place I spent most of my time in during my last trip to the States- Greenville, North Carolina.

I have to be honest, before coming to Greenville I was readying myself to be sneered at, but all in all, I can say that the people I encountered- from my fellow doctors to the patients to random people on the street- were mostly quite nice. The picture above welcomes you to East Carolina University, the third largest university in the state. Go Pirates!

If you're not into running or cycling or swimming (quite a few pools in the area), there isn't going to be much to do (watch a Pirates game?). I used the opportunity to "do as the Romans do" and engage in some physical activity, and at the same time support the Hospital that was kind enough to give me a chance to observe. I joined the second annual Run, Walk, and Roll to benefit the home rehabilitation programs of the Department of Physical Medicine and Rehabilitation. During my stay there I met more people on wheelchairs and prosthetic legs than I have in the rest of my 27 years of life. Some of them just happen to be the awesomest people on Earth, and I have some of their names etched on my heart. Anyway, doing the 1+mile, I managed an abysmal 12 minutes and 19 seconds (I think by this time I had gained a ton of weight already), but I managed to place first among men and even won a medal for it! In case you don't believe me, here's proof. :)

I also attended a party with the residents of the department of PM&R to show my solidarity (I baked some blondies for them too). Here we have fiery Colombian Carolina and her husband showing us a few Latin dance moves. I think I managed pretty well! (Given the hopeless situation of my feet being both left ones.)

Here's the receptionist for PM&R, Jamie, petting one of the host's dogs. He is one of said awesome people above. I wanted to give him this picture but I couldn't get it developed before I left. Besides, he might laugh because he's started taking up photography and I'm sure he can manage better than my dark shot here.

Okay. Carolina Pulled Pork. I don't know if I just ate at the wrong place- Parker's- but this was not as hot as I thought it would be (although it's reputed to already be one of the best in the area). It was just kind of sweet-and-sour but lacking any depth of flavor or real heat. The beans were also sadly overdone. The slaw was interesting, and the hush puppies were nice, but I couldn't eat a lot!

It's kind of strange but the first Indian restaurant I've ever eaten in was in Greenville. (Pause for gasp of disbelief from the foodie community.) We have Indian restaurants here in Manila, but I've never gone out of my way to go to one before. BIG mistake. Indian food is awesome and it pays to go to a dedicated one. A resident and I went to Dale's and we had lamb vindaloo, chicken sag, samusa, and garlic naan. I packed up the leftovers and enjoyed them the following evening! Very nice. And I had an even more amazing Indian meal in San Francisco- but that's for another post ;)

I feel a little funny posting this one because you all probably know Japanese restaurants that can run circles around Fuji Japan, but I have to give them credit for managing two families with 6 children between them, and a pretty darn good spicy crab roll.

One of the most delicious parts of my trip was not at a restaurant at all- it was a house party for a part-Filipino couple. Even though it was the Caucasian dude having his party, he's embraced the culture so much that his entire spread, save for the desserts and a platter of Southern fried chicken, was composed of Filipino food! I'm not sure I can enumerate everything but we had embutido (meat loaf), two pancits (bihon and canton), chop suey, arroz valenciana (sticky rice cooked paella-style), chicken with pineapple, pork afritada (stew in tomato sauce), two kinds of lumpia, bistek tagalog, pata tim (pork thigh in sweet sauce), and fried rice. Okay, okay, I just totally confused everyone- I hope I get to cook all these goodies for the blog someday. (Especially the embutido- that's one of my favorites.)

Before I left, my two host families took me to Wimpies, a seafood restaurant. It was a pretty slow night- I think there's usually a band playing. Of course, I couldn't resist ordering the scallops!

Popular among the university crowd is The Armadillo Grill, which has branches all over North Carolina. I ordered my perennial Mexican favorite, enchilada. Always good, I find :)

I was in Greenville during Labor Day, and I'm not sure how it happened but I ended up cooking two full racks of ribs with my red hot barbecue sauce and my pineapple upside-down cake. Unfortunately I couldn't get the kids to eat much of the ribs (if at all); they just wanted hot dogs. Oh well, more for the grown-ups, right? The cake disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Looking back, I'll always remember Greenville for the warmth of its people, the generosity of my foster families: my home in the Southern United States.

Tartine's Pumpkin Pie

2009-10-13T10:16:00.006+08:00

The food culture between countries sometimes differs at the most fundamental level: for instance, how you treat a fruit or vegetable. Here in the Philippines, just like in at least Brazil, avocados are treated as a dessert fruit. It bothers me (not genuine bother, more of an amused wonderment) that people have called it a vegetable when it is clearly botanically a fruit, but also that people are surprised when it's used for desserts. Here the addition of avocados to sandwiches and salads is a recent phenomenon, and still quite uncommon at that. Guacamole was more well-known, but people in the provinces would scoff at it. What truly bothers me is how clumsily avocados are used in desserts in the Western world, like recipes for ice cream that are essentially sweet frozen guacamole. Yuck. Avocados here are very simply enjoyed by scooping out the flesh and introducing a river of sweetened condensed milk into it.

On the other hand, we have a fruit like a pumpkin, which isn't widely cultivated here in the Philippines (though several other cultivars of the genus Cucurbita are) not being known for its dessert uses. The only application is for coloring and flavoring the middle (yellow) part of a sapin-sapin and even that has been largely abandoned, sadly. Apart from that, it's straight into soups and vegetable stews. So, ignoring the fact that we don't even have an Autumn season here, pumpkin pie and pumpkin cake (unfortunately) were not entities here until recently. Thanks to the internet, huh?

1 minute 42 seconds
by Michael Davies. Originally posted here. Like the video? It stars the magnificent Kate Isitt, one of my favorite English actresses.

So when my aunt bought a pumpkin pie from Costco (!), declaring it her husband's favorite (despite him not really liking dessert in general), I had to try. And I have to say... That obscenely large pie for only $6 or so was pretty good. Sue me, it was my first time.

I find myself having a lot of "first times" since I started on this food journey (I imagine Duncan's ear has fallen out when I get excited over rather ordinary things). I think loving food has made me a more adventurous person- more eager to try anything at least once. I hate not knowing exactly what something is like. And I'm glad- pumpkin pie is quite delicious! I hope you guys give the avocado and condensed milk a try, though :)

SWEEPSTAKES ALERT! Amazon is giving away a slew of prizes and week 2 is all about kitchen goodies. Unfortunately I'm not a US resident so I can't get any :( But it's really simple- just start or add to a wish list to enter! Go go go!

Tartine's Pumpkin Pie (minis) adapted from Tartine
The book says you can adjust the sweetness to your liking as it has no bearing on the texture of the custard. I present it here with more than double the indicated amount of sweeteners, as I found the original 100g (1 cup dark brown sugar for one large pie) hardly sweet. The original recipe in a 9-inch pie pan calls for triple the amount of filling.

Flaky Tart Dough: Use the recipe and amount indicated here. Roll it out and cut rounds to fit into a 6-compartment muffin tin. Bake it at 190°C (375°F) for 15 minutes, then remove the weights and parchment and bake for 5 minutes longer. Set aside to cool.

170g (2/3 cup) canned pumpkin puree (if using fresh pumpkin puree, hang it overnight in a cheesecloth bag to reduce the moisture.)

1 large egg + 1 large egg yolk (use 3 large eggs and 1 egg yolk for a triple recipe/whole pie)

80g (1/3 cup) heavy cream

70g (1/3 cup lightly packed) dark brown sugar

30g (1-1/2 tablespoons) maple syrup

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground ginger

dash ground cloves

dash nutmeg, freshly grated

dash black pepper, freshly ground

1/2 teaspoon salt

Preheat the oven to 160°C (325°F). In a medium bowl, whisk together the pumpkin puree, egg and cream until smooth. Whisk in the sugar, maple syrup, spices and salt until smooth. Divide the mixture between the 6 mini pie shells and bake for 25-30 minutes, or until the pie is set but the center jiggles slightly. Cool on a rack. I prefer the pie served cold with whipped cream on the side.

Tartine's Pumpkin Tea Cake

2009-10-07T18:46:00.004+08:00

THANKS to everyone who read, commented, and most especially contributed from last week's post. I'll be replying to the comments soon, but for now I'm glad to have touched people enough to give in a time of despair. You are all so, so awesome, in case you didn't know that yet.

In college we once had an assignment in Communications class: think of one funny thing you witnessed. It can't be a funny story you heard from someone else, it can't be something you saw on television. It had to have happened to you (or, at least, in front of you). I think I must have written down the lamest story about how some lame teacher was tormenting me, thinking it was probably marginally funny. Well, it wasn't. Truth is, it was hardly that funny, and to no one's surprise, it was even less funny to everyone else.

The sad fact is, even though I am a laugher (I consider myself a sitcom guy) and I never fail to see the humor in everyday situations, I could only remember the laughs and the belly laughs, but not what made me laugh. Or if I could, it was from some line from The Simpsons or something.

Bothered by my difficulty, I decided to play a game with my parents. It was easy for them: just a few months ago, they were having breakfast in a cafe with a family friend, but there was no newspaper. Someone with a newspaper did, and they immediately pounced on him, thinking he was a newspaper vendor. He was all, "Uh... Okay, you can borrow my paper." Yikes!

Said family friend tried the question on his employees, but they were having the same difficulty as me. "Can't you just ask what sad things happened to me this year? Those are easier to remember!" And really: how true. The tragedies tend to stick with us, and while it's healthy to have a good cry once in a while, we fail to invoke those memories that would be even more useful: those that uplift our spirits.

I have a recent one. I was at the dinner table with a family in Greenville when the 11 year-old son eagerly started sharing a story.
"Yesterday, I was in the shower scrubbing my butt, when I thought..."
"*****!" The mother said, "We're eating!"
Kind of morbidly curious and concerned, I told him to go on ahead; I'm not easily grossed out.
"Okay, so I was scrubbing my butt, when I thought, I'm not really that good at that many sports!"
"*****! Why did you have to share the details of your shower just for that?! They had nothing to do with each other!" The whole table was losing it laughing.
I'm not quite sure it's that funny written out, but I have the biggest smile on my face remembering happy times. Maybe my Communications teacher was onto something.

So, have any funny stories? ;)

I would've started by saying this is the perfect recipe to finish that can of pumpkin puree with, but that wouldn't be fair to the cake. In reality, it's the first thing I made with my can of pumpkin, because if you haven't noticed already, I love cake. And tea cake, something you can snack on or have for breakfast without feeling like a pig, is just as good as a frosted cake. There are probably hundreds of pumpkin cake recipes out there, but I went with Tartine because, well, I love that book. And once again, it did not disappoint.

I'm submitting this to Meeta and Aparna for Monthly Mingle: High Tea Treats. Send in your entry before October 15!

Pumpkin Tea Cake adapted from Tartine
I made this in two 8x3 inch (20x7.5cm) loaf pans, but the original recipe only calls for 1 9x5 inch loaf pan. If you're using the latter, increase the baking time to 1 hour. You could use an electric mixer for this, but it doesn't take much of an effort to do it entirely by hand, which is what I did. Just use a light touch if mechanically aided to avoid toughening the crumb.

225g (1-2/3 cups) all-purpose flour

1-1/2 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1 tablespoon + 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

2 teaspoons freshly grated nutmeg

1/4 teaspoon ground cloves

255g (1 cup + 2 tablespoons) pumpkin puree

200g (1 cup) vegetable oil such as safflower (I used canola)

270g (1-1/3 cups) sugar

3/4 teaspoon salt

3 large eggs

2 tablespoons sugar

Preheat the oven to 160°C (325°F). Line two 8x3 inch loaf pans with parchment paper (you may also just grease them if you like).

In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves. Set aside.

In a large bowl, add the oil, 270g sugar, pumpkin puree, and salt. Whisk vigorously until combined (if the mixture looks separated, just keep whisking and it will eventually come together). Add the eggs one at a time, mixing well after each so it is completely incorporated. Scrape down the sides of the bowl with a rubber spatula. Sift the flour-spice mixture over this and stir with the spatula or a wooden spoon until just combined (don't be heavy-handed with it). Scrape down the sides every now and then to make sure it's evenly mixed.

Divide the mixture evenly between the pans and smooth the surface (I just strongly rapped it on the counter twice). Sprinkly each evenly with 1 tablespoon sugar. Bake until a cake tester comes out with few crumbs clinging, about 44-48 minutes. Remove from the oven and let cool in the pan for 10 minutes, then unmold and cool on a rack completely. Serve at room temperature.

Tartine's Lemon Bars

2009-09-30T14:37:00.005+08:00

Hi. This is a difficult post to write, but truth be told, it's going to be difficult to write about food in the midst of so much suffering for a very long time, so I might as well start. Long story short for those who don't want to read the rest: please visit this site on Google to find out how you can help the victims of Typhoon Ketsana in the Philippines- it has ways for people overseas to help. Thanks so much.

EDITED TO ADD: Make a donation to UNICEF for this cause today, and your gift will be matched, doubling your support.

When I was in high school, my friend and I had this well-meaning discussion about giving to the poor. He said that his parents always taught him that it's usually better to give to big charities (I think he named the Church in particular, though it's not really a charity) than to beggars for several reasons: the organizations know how to systematically dispense goods so it provides the most benefit (rather than a beggar buying a big meal, then is hungry again), you never know what beggars do with the money (e.g., buy cigarettes), it encourages begging instead of working, and encourages organized begging syndicates (watch Slumdog Millionaire to get the gist of it). "Give a man a fish and he eats for a day, teach him to fish and he eats for the rest of his life."

"Well now," I thought to myself, "How many people have actually taught a man to fish? How about those who have no fishing rod? Those who are too weak to fish?" Leave it to me to pull a verse apart.

Generosity is so difficult even when we are at our most prosperous, because it's so easily taken advantage of, and no one likes feeling like a chump. The evil-minded have ruined it for those who are desperately in need. On Larry King Live with Suze Orman as a guest (at the height of the recession), someone actually called in to ask how to wisely go about giving to charities (I am phrasing it in a nicer way, as I can't remember if the actual question was "What's in it for me?"). Orman, to her credit, says that when we let go of something, it lets the universe know that we can get something back. My analogy for that is when we hold on to our possessions too tightly, it never lets anything into our palms.

It's depressing to think that the only motivation people have to give is the imagined promise that they'll get something in return. When we're lucky, it happens. But at least it encourages people somehow to give. Even with all the evil and selfishness in the world, if even a little kindness slips through the cracks, then there is hope for the rest of us.

Last Saturday, more than 430mm (17.2 inches) of rain fell in the span of 24 hours in Metro Manila. The topography of the land is not something I'm aware of when I go around Manila, but for some reason (proximity to dams, bodies of water, altitude, drainage problems), parts of Manila turned into a waterworld and all of us here were completely shocked. It just seemed like a "normal" typhoon, sans the wind even, and suddenly there are people trapped on the second floors of houses, people stranded on roofs, and unprecedented destruction in our nation's capital.

We already know how to fish. If there's anything Filipinos are good at, it's cooperating in the face of tragedy to emerge hopefully stronger. However, even with excess manpower, resources are still running low. We're not rehabilitating yet- still rescuing and relieving. We just need to get through this.
Click on this link to find out how you can help, anywhere you are in the world.
Filipinos are also quite adept at making do with a little. If you have any excess at all to give, it would be greatly appreciated. (If you would prefer to contact me directly for any reason, feel free to do so.)

It's okay if you feel that this is improper, but I'd rather you didn't comment about it and just moved on. I only ask it of you if you have it to spare. Thanks so much.

"Panalangin sa Pagiging Bukas-Palad" is a poetic translation of "Prayer for Generosity." (In this case, bukas is open and palad is palm.) This tune was written by Filipino songwriting genius Manoling Francisco, SJ. It's just an instrumental here. (I would love to translate it for you- it's quite a beautiful song, but I don't want religious content potentially causing people not to give.)

About the lemon bars:
I actually prefer the ones I made from King Arthur, but only because I found these a little too tart. The rest is my fault - I may have overbaked it, thus failing to achieve the runny goodness of the lemon curd of the book (not that it is accurate, I think). But if you like lemon squares tarter and a little more flavor to the shortcrust base, I recommend these. Recipe is over at Lisa's, who also managed to take an infinitely better picture of them.

Welcome to the Jungle (New York part 2)

2009-09-27T08:55:00.004+08:00

Wow, what a crazy weekend to "decide" to go home from San Francisco. This weekend, a ton of friends are having fun in San Francisco, making me totally jealous (but, can you believe I have yet another post to write on San Francisco in the future? One of my favorite places, ever). As my plane approached Manila, the pilot said, "the weather is... not great," and no shit. A typhoon submerged part of my country's capital- the greatest flood to hit it in maybe 42 years. My family and my home are unscathed, thank God, but there'll be a lot of rescue/relief work going on.

Anyway, as promised, here is my post about my trip to New York from earlier this year (part 1 of my New York trip is here). Above is the tourist trap, Times Square. I didn't spend a lot of time here except for the now-closed Virgin megastore (I don't recall buying anything, either).

Probably concerned that I was spending way too much time hunting for food, Duncan convinced me to go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It wasn't only a good way to rest my tired feet and my iced-over thighs, but I also got to marvel at amazing works of art- not a bad deal for $20 (I was in business attire so I couldn't pass for a student, heh). Above is a detail from the Kwoma ceiling, from the Gallery for Oceanic art. Perfect example of beautiful/ frightening/ awesome: the entire installation is quite humongous.

Beautiful etched cups. I wish I took a picture of the description because I don't quite remember what era or location these are from and I don't want to look like an idiot by guessing. (Also quite impressed by my retouching of this photo- I wish I could remember how I did it!)

Detail from "Agony in the Garden." There really should be more artists (and we should really encourage them!). We can't lose craftsmanship like this.

The sketcher has become the sketch-ee! In Photoshop, though.

Now to the food. It's been said that a fashion designer should open with a "wow" piece, and following that, I'm going to open with a "wow" patisserie, Lady M, where I dragged Genie and Noah for tea. It's a Japanese-Style French patisserie (confused?) that just screamed Park Avenue elegance (Charlotte York, that sort of thing). I know it might be more eyeroll-inducing and normally it would be for me, if their pastries were not absolutely delicious and impeccably made. But my feeling is, it should attract dessert lovers, not those wishing to be seen (i.e., those who cannot appreciate the pastries). We had the mille crepe, which inspired my own version of a mille crepe, and the chocolate raspberry cake.

On the other hand, there are these places that you know are just built for dessert lovers, but probably because of the high expectations, fall short. I'd read about both Chikalicious and Room 4 Dessert from years back and I've always wanted to go, so I made it a priority to go to Chikalicious (R4D is sadly closed). However, even though I was the only patron in the restaurant, I felt very disconnected from the chefs even though I was at the bar and they were right in front of me. It's probably because I came in just as it opened and they were getting into their grooves, but the experience wasn't very exciting. I had the prix fixe which consisted of pear sorbet on black pepper gelee (sorbet was nice, as was the gelee, but I couldn't really tell it was meant to be black pepper), warm chocolate tart with red peppercorn ice cream (both good), and petit fours: chocolate cookie, pound cake, and toasted coconut... Something? Marshmallow? The fact that I can't even remember it isn't a good sign. The manager was very nice and engaged me in conversation. I talked about the experience with a (New Yorker) friend and he agreed, saying that it's all very "precious". While I understand the portions are meant to be small, I would have appreciated a little more assertiveness in the flavors and a noticeable benefit from the components. It also didn't help that prior to this I saw a feature on both Chocolatier magazine and The Food Network that showed a more energetic experience.

Across the street you have Chika Dessert Club, which has a selection of puddings and cupcakes. It was good, but me and my readers can probably make great cupcakes with our eyes closed anyway ;) Still, a welcome treat for... an hour before I entered Chikalicious (waiting for it to open). Did I mention I gained 5 pounds while I was in the US?

A short distance from Chikalicious is Curry-Ya, where I had my lunch. For only $8 I got a salad and the dried beef curry on rice. The dried beef curry is oddly named to me, because I can't really tell that anything was dried- it seemed like a regular ground beef curry to me. But OH SO GOOD. Too bad there wasn't an option to make it spicier (as it was a set lunch). But value-wise, I couldn't be happier. Never mind that it looked kind of like, er, never mind (check out the blurred dish behind the salad). Highly recommended. Curry-ya is managed by two young Japanese people (I'm not sure if they were siblings). The restroom is the awesomest thing ever (when I exited, the dude said, "Nice, huh?" LOL!).

To contribute to Duncan's macaron survey I made it a point to try a few (continuing from Paulette and the sad ones from Philippe that I didn't try). These are from the very confidently named Macaron Cafe. While they were for the most part well-made, there was something odd about the flavors- they were quite strong and stayed on the nose. The creme brulee macaron had the "burnt" flavor there, but it tasted like it had been artificially added. The lavender macaron was not as good as the one in Paulette- again, too strong. Maybe I should have settled for the fruit flavors.

There were also macarons at Madeleine Patisserie, but they were lumpy and cracked, so I decided to get a fruit tart instead. Good, but I still prefer the Tartine one. At least it's still better than Petrossian.

Eventually I had a craving for Chinese food, so I was excited to go to Szechuan Gourmet, reputed to be one of New York's finest. I had the iconic Szechuan dish Mapo Tofu, just to finally try it from a more-or-less authentic restaurant. It was beautifully aggressively spicy, but on the downside the added peppers also made it taste more metallic. Also, I couldn't finish it all! (Probably needed more rice and water!)

The night Genie, Noah and I went out we ate at Caracas Arepa at Noah's suggestion, and boy was I glad we tried it. It's a very small Peruvian restaurant. I had the arepa la de pernil (tomato slices and spicy mango sauce, of course) and yoyos (sweet plantain balls stuffed with white cheese). All really good, and I'm dying to try making the yoyos at home. Genie and Noah had beers, but I had the sugar cane juice with lemon, which was phenomenal.

The last few pictures are a tribute to one of New York's finest Patisseries ever, Payard. For now, it's gone, but it looks like it will return, so I'm hopeful.

Drooling yet? I had the Sacre Coeur, which is raspberry compote inside white chocolate mousse with two layers of joconde and a joconde wrapper. As delicious and perfect as any dessert you could hope to get in Paris, and I'm sure Payard would not have it any other way.

So this concludes my mini-food (and other... stuff) tour of New York (we've stopped by a bench by Central Park to relax!). I still have a few more pictures from the Project Runway finale show I attended at New York Fashion week, but I've yet to see if I have enough food pictures from New York and New Jersey to carry it as a separate blog post (of course, if you guys want, I could post it anyway, even if it's not really about food). Thanks for tuning in and I hope to see you next update for the next Tartine recipe!

Big Sur Bakery's Baked Beans

2009-09-21T08:17:00.004+08:00

So I am back from my observership from North Carolina- and if you've been paying attention, it won't be long before I have a travel post on it. I'm not quite sure if anyone's interested, but of course I'll try my best to make it interesting. Certainly it was a good trip and I enjoyed my time there thoroughly, but a lot of it had to do with my time inside the hospital, and of course I did my best not to take any pictures of anyone in the hospital or the surroundings (there were some really endearing patients along the way, but I'm protecting their privacy of course). So we'll see what I'm able to write. But I'm here now, in case you were wondering if I died or something. Observership gave me a cold hard look at how much time I'd be spending on my blog if I had work (and observership isn't even work!) and the sad fact is, it's nearly zero hours. Well, unless you count the time I spend actually cooking. Maybe I can spend my one free day cooking and the free day next week blogging. Two posts (or less) a month, ha ha ha!

Now I wait. I applied for a not-small number of hospitals and now I'm expecting the first invitation to interview. Annnnny day now. In the neeeext minute. It must be their coffee break. I'll check again in ten minutes. Just kidding- they actually have tons of applications to go through and if I've learned anything from this whole experience, it's to be confident of the skills you've acquired, because no one else will see it if you don't.

Anyway, I hate that these days, every time I open my mouth on my blog (er, so to speak), it's about my career. That is SO not what I wanted to happen and I know it bores the hell out of everyone (careers are just those things better lived than discussed). It's just that the waiting and anxiety and uncertainty gets to me. This is the biggest chance I've ever taken and I am hoping, praying that it will pay off. Perhaps for my loyal readers this isn't quite the return to form that they were waiting for, but I hope you hang in there till I can finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Now. This is a hardcore recipe for baked beans from The Big Sur Bakery cookbook, which I reviewed at The Gastronomer's Bookshelf recently. I made a few more recipes from the book which I'll reveal in future posts, but I thought this would be a good place to start. I love baked beans, but this was quite different for me-- not the sweet, tomato-ey and molasses-y beans I expected. Unfortunately, I still prefer those beans over these (and check out Allen's post on those perfect baked beans here) BUT these beans were still pretty good and actually healthier since it doesn't have quite as much sugar and salt (huh, maybe that's why I like the canned stuff?!). Something definitely worth waiting for, in any case! :)

Baked Beans from The Big Sur Bakery Cookbook

450g (1 pound) dried red/navy/cranberry beans (I used red beans)

1 small onion, halved

1 small carrot

1 small celery stalk

1 bay leaf

2 garlic cloves

1kg (1 quart) chicken stock

90g (3 ounces) bacon, diced

45g (3 tablespoons) whole-grain mustard

40g (3 tablespoons) brown sugar

1 teaspoon freshly ground coffee beans

1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

1 teaspoon kosher salt

2 tablespoons minced flat-leaf parsley

1 tablespoon minced fresh oregano

1 tablespoon fresh thyme leaves

Place the beans in a large bowl, cover with water and soak at room temperature overnight. Drain the beans and place them in a dutch oven with the onion, carrot, celery, bay leaf, garlic, chicken stock, and bacon. Place on high heat and bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to a simmer and cook until the beans are tender, about 45 minutes (the time is variable, but I found I had to cook them for longer), skimming off any foam that forms.

Strain the beans, reserving the cooking liquid. Discard the onion, carrot, celery, and bay leaf. Place the beans back in the dutch oven and preheat the oven to 175°C (350°F). In a small bowl, combine the mustard, brown sugar, ground coffee, ground pepper, salt, and reserved cooking liquid. Stir this into the beans, cover with aluminum foil (I just used the lid), and bake for 1-1/2 to 2 hours, or until the beans have absorbed most of the liquid. Remove from the oven, and stir in the fresh herbs.

Tartine's Pecan Maple Pie

2009-08-31T04:47:00.004+08:00

Medical school can certainly be a strange place for people who went through college together. In undergrad, you take courses in a semi-random order you prefer, but in medical school, everyone has to follow the progression in the hierarchy. So, being naive enough to ignore this, I thought working with my friend, who was a year higher in Biology but now a medical resident (while I was an intern), would be nearly the same as it used to be. Not so. For some reason, instead of my name, she called me "dear."

I now kind of understand what some women in the workplace experience. "Dear?" We sang freaking Cruising for fun during breaks in undergrad. Now I was reduced to the same "affectionate" name she used on everyone. Here's the so many ways I felt it was wrong:
1. We've known each other for 5 years. Use my name.
2. It's inappropriate to use that term for a fellow doctor. Use my name.
3. While you could possibly use it for people you're unfamiliar with (though you shouldn't), there's no better way to make me feel like you don't really see me and instead see me as some generic underling. Use my name.
4. It's twee and annoying.

I do use some non-name names for friends:
1. Hun/Sweetie - when I want to make someone I cherish feel extra-special
2. Honey/Dahling - when I'm feeling sassy (usually this is attached to a joke)
3. Luv - when I'm feeling British
4. Dude, man - when dudespeak is, of course, appropriate
5. A few other ones I use for specific people, like "sunshine" and "sugar."
But I would not use them in a professional setting, and especially never in front of a patient! Anyway. That was a long time ago, but it still makes me cringe. A far cry from what administrative personnel have had to deal with (and maybe still do), but at least I'll know not to do it (as if that wasn't obvious already).

This pecan pie from the Tartine cookbook is the first one I've ever tasted- they did a really good job of cutting the sweetness, and of course you can never go wrong with the maple flavor. My family is generally not a fan of nuts, but they raved about the "sugar custard". If you are a fan of pecans (frakking expensive nuts in Manila) but always thought the pie was a bit too much in the sugar department, give this a shot. Visit Lisa's blog for her beautiful large version!

Pecan Maple Pie adapted from Tartine
I had problems finding kumquats, since I didn't know what to look for exactly in our markets (kiats? loquats?), but I know they're out there. I used orange peel instead, as the book recommended. This recipe makes 4 small pies, 11cm (4-1/4") in diameter.

4 fully baked and cooled flaky tart dough mini pie shells

50g (1/4 cup) sugar

50g (2 tablespoons + 2 teaspoons) maple syrup

55g (2 tablespoons + 2 teaspoons) light corn syrup

2 teaspoons bourbon

pinch salt

18g (1 tablespoon + 1 teaspoon) unsalted butter

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 large egg, lightly beaten

100g (2/3 cup) pecan halves

zest of 1/3 an orange or 28g/1oz kumquats, thinly sliced

Flaky Tart Dough:

pinch of salt

50g (3-1/2 tablespoons) very cold water

150g (1 cup + 1 tablespoon) all-purpose flour

100g (7 tablespoons) very cold unsalted butter

Follow the directions for the recipe from Lisa's site, cutting the dough to fit 4 11-cm mini pie pans and baking the filled pies for 30-40 minutes, or until set.

Cherry Macarons

2009-08-23T19:16:00.004+08:00

Macarons Cerise

(Gosh, can anyone guess how many times I've used a Beatles song for a post subtitle?) Again with the craziness! This week-end is going to be one of my silent ones, comment-wise, as I'm currently in a rush to pack respectable (read: physician-style) clothes and gifts for half the Filipino population in the US, as well as make the finishing touches on my application for residency in the United States (the applications are electronically sent to the program directors on September 1. AAAGH!!). I know I said I'd share part 2 of my New York experience from last Winter, but those posts take the longest to write, and I'm trying to save time, so I'll get to that post when I've settled.

My itinerary: I'll be in San Francisco for about 4 days, then at the end of August, I'll fly to Greenville, North Carolina for a month-long observership period. All this is thanks in part to the kindness of my lovely blog buddy Ginny of Just Get Floury, and already I'm thinking about the hundreds of different baked goods I'll be making when I'm working as a resident to mail to her as thanks every week for the rest of my life. WISH ME LUCK!!! (Or tell me to knock their socks off, if you don't believe in luck.)

After Greenville, it's interview time once more till late January, but I think I'll be able to post and visit your beautiful blogs even when I'm in the States. Next week-end, I'll post #8 of my Tartine bake-through with Lisa.

These are my third attempt at macarons (the second one was a complete disaster due to several factors). I think with more experimentation, I'm getting better at them. It really is a matter of getting to know the process and understanding your equipment. And doing it as level-headedly as you possibly can. Thanks goodness Gourdo's had a 70% discount on slivered almonds-- they only cost about US$1 for 100 grams (they were going to expire in 3 months). Plenty of room for experimentation.

As usual, I followed Duncan's super-exhaustive instructions. My process for making Italian meringue involves using an induction cooker. We were gifted an inexpensive single-hob induction cooker, and all I have to do is specify 120 degrees Celsius, leave the sugar on, and allow it to reach the correct temperature as I make the meringue. Easy peasy. (Of course I measured the temperature the first time I made it, to be sure.)

To save time when I decide to make macarons, as soon as I get the almonds, I grind them with an equal weight of powdered sugar and sieve them multiple times during the process. I stored the almond-sugar powder in an airtight container and kept it in the fridge-- ever-ready for when I have time to make macarons or need to make a joconde or such.

Because my oven is fan-forced, it unfortunately only has a heating element at the top. As a result, my macarons' feet are pathetic. To partially compensate for this, I preheated the oven with a baking stone at the bottom. I also took care not to over-insulate the bottom by using too thick a baking sheet. The results are acceptable for now, to me. I'm satisfied with a good texture and smooth top.

To make the flower pattern, I used a stencil. Because I don't have an airbrush, I simply used Wilton's Color Mist spray frosting color-- a very inexpensive solution. I carved the flower on a piece of acetate and sprayed through it from about 7 inches away for a fine mist.

The filling is white chocolate ganache with cherry preserves folded in. I started out with a scant amount of filling that was too runny because of the heat, so I only put a measly amount in each-- a mistake. I learned in subsequent trials (which you'll see in the future), be generous with the filling to get that classic macaron bite. On my next batch, I was thrilled to find that biting into one of mine was almost like biting into one of Paulette's.

If you're very interested in learning more about macarons, check out our review of Pierre Herme's book Macaron at The Gastronomer's Bookshelf. Also, my go-to guy is Duncan for his series on Macarons. Julia has also compiled an impressive number of links and tips on her site. If you'd prefer using the French meringue method, Helen has a tutorial at Desserts magazine (requires membership).

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this experiment! See you in a week or so! (Still over at Twitter from time to time though, as well as e-mail :)

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Dulce de Leche Flan

2009-08-16T17:25:00.003+08:00

When I was in college, there used to be this strange yearly event for freshman orientation wherein various organizations compete to be the best. At what, I don't know, because it involved racking up points for 1) collecting as much newspaper as you can and 2) hanging out at a particular building in campus during your spare time for the most amount of hours. It was considered to be a chore because let's face it, there's a ton of places better to go than some ratty building wherein you played board games until everyone went postal from having to hang out with each other (er, never happened).

Long story short, I was a new member of my organization and I thought I'd contribute by having my soul eroded by boredom. It was there that I got to meet an officer of our organization (our org was pretty huge, and not everyone gets to talk to everyone). He wanted to set an example for everyone else, so he hung out there too. I have no idea what we talked about, but by the time I went home after maybe the second day we met, he sent an SMS message: "You know, I enjoy talking to you, you stimulate my mind. Have a nice Sunday."

That was funny, I thought. What a great way to say "You're such a nerd." Kidding. But I found it kind of refreshing that someone would tell me that so openly after meeting me twice. I guess we've all just become so used to keeping our cards close to the vest-- not looking so keen-- that it's so easy to take for granted that someone actually enjoys your company. And as for me, I give myself so little credit (still do, to this day) for being liked just for who I am.

I don't think anybody ever got our friendship, as we had nothing in common. But he was like a second older brother to me. When we were in (different) medical schools, I once told him that maybe it was time I refrain from giving him hugs, as it might embarrass his friends. He seemed surprised by this, saying that he doesn't care about other people, and if I ever needed a hug, to just go for it.

The last time I saw him was late last year, for his wedding. He told me to write him as often as I can. While it hasn't been as often as I'd like, I do, because this friendship was as rare as the person as I shared it with. It's been nine years since I received that message, but I preserved it from phone to phone and it still lives in my current phone: a reminder that there's always someone out there who likes me for who I am and isn't afraid to show it.

This dulce de leche flan is adapted from the book Seven Fires. You can read a great book review of Seven Fires at The Gastronomer's Bookshelf, written by Uncle Rob (he calls it "the most perfect cookbook" he's ever read-- what a recommendation!! Click on the link to see why :). I've adapted it so it only serves 8 (not the original 16 (!)), but it is very sweet and while Mallmann recommends serving it with unsweetened whipped cream, I recommend 1) small servings and 2) a glass of water. Anyway, even if it is sweet, it reminds me of my favorite kind of Filipino leche flan, rich with a ton of egg yolks, only with a luxurious caramel flavor permeating the custard itself. A dessert for the dessert-lover!

Dulce de Leche Flan adapted from Seven Fires: Grilling the Argentine Way
I had a problem with the baking time here. The original recipe that was double this called for three hours in a bain-marie, but I baked it for the same amount of time for this smaller one but it wasn't yet done. Impatient at 2:30AM, I cranked it up to 160C, and this caused curdling of the upper quarter-inch of the custard. Sigh. Just be patient and it'll eventually set.

1 kg (4 cups) whole milk

400g (2 cups) granulated sugar

1/2 vanilla bean, split

In a large pot, whisk together the milk and sugar. Scrape the caviar from the pod and throw in everything with the milk. Place over medium-high heat and stir until the sugar is dissolved and the milk nearly boils. Reduce the heat to a low simmer and simmer very gently without stirring for three to four hours, skimming the foam that forms on top. When it has a light coffee color and is syrupy (and is reduced to two cups), it's ready. Strain through a fine sieve into a measuring cup, let cool completely, cover with cling film and refrigerate till ready to use.

Preheat oven to 120°C (250°F). Have ready a 7.5 x 3.5 inch (18x9cm) loaf pan that fits in a roasting pan. Pour some boiling water into the roasting pan and place the loaf pan in to warm the bottom.

100g (1/2 cup) granulated sugar

60g (1/4 cup) water

1 large egg

7 large egg yolks

In a small heavy saucepan, pour in the sugar and add the water around the periphery. Place over medium-high heat and swirl without stirring until the sugar dissolves. Bring to a boil, swirling occasionally until it is golden amber (don't take it too far-- 175°C or 350°F is enough). Immediately pour into the loaf pan and tilt the pan until the entire bototm surface is covered. Remove the loaf pan from the roasting pan and let the caramel cool till hard. In a medium mixing bowl, whisk together the egg and yolks, then add the dulce de leche. Strain into the loaf pan, return it to the roasting pan, and pour hot water into the roasting pan until it reaches halfway up the sides of the loaf pan. Bake for at least 3 hours, replenishing the hot water if needed, until the middle barely jiggles. Remove from the bain-marie and let cool completely. Refrigerate overnight. To unmold, loosen the edges with a thin knife, then either pass the bottom over a flame, dip the bottom in boiling water for half a minute, or torch it with a blowtorch while inverted to liquidize the caramel again. Invert onto a platter.

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Barefoot Contessa's Roasted Tomato Caprese Salad

2009-08-09T21:00:00.003+08:00

I've heard someone say that one of the worst ways to start a speech is with an apology. I'm glad then, that this isn't a speech, and I'm me, and I am rarely too proud to apologize when I have to. Again I dropped out of the blogosphere for a whole week, except for the few times I logged on to Twitter and had a nice time chatting with a bunch of folks. You see, I'm trying out this thing where I only read and comment on blogs once a week.

No, nothing bad happened. I may have shaved a bit off my thumb on a mandoline making a fresh fennel salad, but I am not deterred from cooking. I have not started to think that since I only post once a week, I should only also read yours once a week. I am happy to read your posts even if they occur more frequently than mine and chat away like I usually do, it's not about balance. I am not burned out; I'll always have plenty to say and I have a lot more things to learn.

It's that thing, you know; life! Ha ha ha. Even if I'm flattered that the odd person or two will say that I should make food my career, it is not. It's my (two year-old) hobby. It's simply come to the point where I can't devote my attention to studying (ahem, my life!) and jumping on the newest post from a friend of mine when it appears on my feed reader. I have to move all of that to one day and resist the temptation to click on the other days (as it greets me on my homepage). So don't worry, I'm not dropping off completely and of course I will still read and comment on your posts, just not on the pulse as I usually am, and I can still be found on Twitter and reviewing books for The Gastronomer's Bookshelf (speaking of which, we have a new review of Pim of Chez Pim's new book, The Foodie Handbook). I may be studying but I'm not dead! It's what the lovely Jen calls "getting my shit together."

This recipe is one from a book I reviewed, Barefoot Contessa: Back to Basics. My uncle heard I was quite the food lover, so he asked me when I went to San Francisco to help him set up a platter of Caprese salad for a party. Not one to let an opportunity to try a new recipe slip away, I made Ina Garten's recipe, and I was blown away by how good the tomatoes ended up, even as winter was just ending! I wish I'd saved some more for myself.

Roasted Tomato Caprese Salad from Barefoot Contessa: Back to Basics

12 plum tomatoes, seeds removed

1/4 cup olive oil

1-1/2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar

2 garlic cloves, minced

2 teaspoons sugar

salt and freshly ground black pepper

450g (1 pound) fresh salted mozzarella

12 fresh basil leaves, julienned

Preheat the oven to 135°C (275°F). Place the tomatoes cut-side up on a sheet pan in a single layer and drizzle with most of the olive oil and all the balsamic vinegar, then sprinkle with garlic, sugar, 1-1/2 teaspoons salt, and pepper. Roast in the oven for 2 hours and allow the to cool to room temperature. Cut the mozzarella into about 1/2-inch (1.2cm) slices and arrange them alternately with the tomatoes on a platter. Sprinkle with the basil, a little more salt and pepper, and the rest of the olive oil.

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Amy's Breads' Monkey Cake (Hummingbird Cake)

2009-08-04T01:12:00.003+08:00

Some bizarre things happening in my life right now, so I can't think straight enough to relate a story to this post. Don't worry (if you are ;), I'm not in any trouble or anything bad, just a little more anxious than usual, but still happy (contrary to what my previous post may suggest, heh heh). Instead you will get two of my favorite music videos and a story behind this beautiful cake.

Kylie Minogue's Come Into My World: this came out when I was in medical school, and it really helped to color my everyday walk to the hospital (though I did not multiply, sadly).

Star Guitar by The Chemical Brothers: inspired by the video, I tried to turn the landscape from boring trips to the country into a song, but they did not appear with sufficient regularity to have a rhythm. Pity.

These videos and more can be found in a fantastic compilation of director Michel Gondry's work (master of time and space).

Anyway. About the cake. I served it recently at my mum and dad's anniversary party, which unexpectedly had a number of guests. One of them is a big fan of my cooking (er, baking most of all), and when I told them that they'd be having a banana and pineapple cake, she was audibly bummed because she was expecting a chocolate cake, as I served chocolate-flavored cakes the last two times she ate here (which have not been posted yet!). Well, what was I supposed to do, bake another cake on the spot? Anyway, confident that they'd like it (even though I hadn't tasted it), I just left my mom to serve it. Her story was her guest liked it so much that she even took a big slice home. And she had a couple as guests, who said they'd just share a sliver, but ended up getting more and more cake (probably against medical advice- ulp). It is really that good and I'm glad it's gone because I gained back 2 of the 9 pounds I lost, ha ha ha.

I just realized that if you mash a banana that has just ripened for a cake, it will release enough ethylene (probably even as it bakes) to make the remaining barely-ripe banana taste great. So if you need to bake a banana cake in a hurry (don't laugh, it happened to me for this one), you don't have to have falling-apart bananas. Good to know, right? It will just be hard to mash-- I had to use my tiny chopper.

Monkey Cake adapted from The Sweeter Side of Amy's Bread

345g (2-3/4) cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking soda

275g (1-1/4 cups) canola or other neutral vegetable oil

350g (1-3/4 cups) sugar

3 large eggs, at room temperature

1-1/4 teaspoon cinnamon

2 teaspoons salt

2 teaspoons vanilla

225g (1 cup) mashed bananas (about 2 medium bananas)

400g (2 cups gently drained) crushed pineapple

Preheat the oven to 175°C (350°F). Spray 2 8-inch round cake pans with baking spray and line the bottoms with parchment cut to fit exactly.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the baking soda and flour. Set aside. In a large bowl, beat together the oil, sugar, eggs, cinnamon, salt, and vanilla until well-combined. Sift the flour mixture over this and fold in 3 additions, alternating with the bananas and pineapple. Use a strong whisk to give the batter a few good stirs to make sure the fruit is well-distributed.

Divide the batter equally between the two pans (if using a scale, the weight will come down to around 880g of batter per pan. See how easy that was?). Give each pan a spin to flatten the batter and bake for 35-40 minutes, or a toothpick inserted in the center of each comes out barely moist.

Let the cakes sit in the pan for 10 minutes, before carefully unmolding onto a cooling rack to cool completely. Flatten the top of the cake you've chosen to be the bottom layer with a serrated knife, if necessary.

Cream Cheese Frosting
This makes just enough for a thin filling (see the photograph above). If you like a lot of frosting or are not confident in your frosting abilities, multiply the quantities by 1.5.

225g (1 cup) cream cheese, softened

175g (12-1/2 tablespoons) unsalted butter, softened

300g (3 cups sifted) sifted confectioner's sugar

2 teaspoons vanilla

In a large bowl, beat together all the ingredients until homogeneous. Use to fill and frost the cake all over.

To create the swirl I made above (inspired by the Cake Love cakes), just apply a thin coat of frosting all over and freeze the cake for a short bit to firm the frosting, while keeping the rest of the frosting at room temperature. Once it's firmed, center the cake on a turntable and apply the rest of the frosting all over (neatness doesn't matter, just make sure it's not horribly uneven). Using a small offset or icing spatula, lay it at an angle (30 degrees should do) at the top center of the cake and spin the turntable (it doesn't have to be fast), moving the spatula so that the widening circles you create overlaps the previous circle slightly. It's important that the frosting is soft so you can smoothly create the spiral, or if you don't like the one you've made, just spread the icing over the top and start over again.

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Tartine's Lemon Meringue Cake

2009-07-27T15:31:00.004+08:00

Huh, I can't believe this is my 251st post! Thanks to all those who have tuned in.
It's already nearing the end of July, and most of my friends who sojourned to the US for residency are wrapping up their first month. I have almost no idea how they felt about it. You see, about two months ago, I decided to remove the column on Tweetdeck that updates me on people's Facebook statuses. Even though I have an (admittedly loose) policy on not comparing my life to other people's, especially not my friends', some of the updates were starting to get on my nerves.

Whether it's someone trumpeting their achievements and how life is so perfect or someone bellyaching for the lamest of reasons, I decided to call it quits. Yes, it sounds really bitter since I didn't get matched for residency last March, but to hear people who actually did get matched to fantastic hospitals under a great residency program say, "Can't I just be a bum for longer?" or "I don't want to go!!!" is terribly (though not deliberately) insulting. By all means, if the prospect of being employed in a climate where people are desperate for work is so horrible, get ready to hand over your life to someone who needs it. Vomit.

I could never ask for my life to be traded for another's. We all feel the sting of misfortune at one point or another, but to be perfectly honest after everything I've been through, I've only ever felt the mildest of pinches. While some people take their boring jobs, the houses so huge they find it inconvenient, the relationships which are just too complicated for them, the families who not only love them but can provide the thickest and fluffiest of safety nets when a tiny fraction of their lives fall apart-- all for granted, people are getting laid off, ridiculously talented and accomplished people have to endure meager salaries, and yes, there is war and hunger and oppression. Terminal illness. Loved ones lost. Loneliness and desperation. Pick a card, any card. It could all change so suddenly. While I can only hope that for all of us, the card we draw is always for the better.

I served this to my friends the week before I left for the States. It was quite a spectacle, making the frosting on the spot and torching it-- especially since one of the peaks ignited and I think they caught me blowing the flame out nonchalantly.

Lemon Meringue Cake adapted from Tartine

Chiffon Cake (follow the ingredients and instructions from the Summer Fruit Bavarian Cake post.)

Caramel

55g (3 tablespoons + 2 teaspoons) heavy cream
100g (1/2 cup) sugar
24g (1-1/2 tablespoons) water
small pinch salt
24g (1 tablespoon) light corn syrup
1/2 teaspoon lemon juice
22g (1-1/2 tablespoons) unsalted butter

In a tiny saucepan or microwave-safe cup, bring the cream to just under a boil, stirring occasionally, and set aside, making sure the cream is warm. In another small heavy-bottomed saucepan, combine the sugar, water, salt, and corn syrup. Place it over low heat and boil until it is amber colored, then immediately remove from the heat and carefully add the warm cream. Allow it to settle for a moment before whisking until smooth. Transfer it to a cool bowl, stir in the lemon juice and allow to cool. Add the butter in small pieces, whisking after each addition. Allow it to cool completely, stirring occasionally.

Lemon Cream

95g (6 tablespoons + 1 teaspoon) lemon juice
2 large eggs
100g (1/2 cup) sugar
small pinch of salt
135g (1/2 cup plus 1-1/2 tablespoons) unsalted butter

In a heatproof bowl set over a saucepan of simmering water, combine the lemon juice, eggs, sugar, and salt (make sure the bottom of the bowl doesn't touch the water). Whisk them together constantly until very thick, or 80°C (180°F) on an instant-read thermometer. Remove from the heat and let it cool down until warm to touch (60°C or 140°F on a thermometer). Place the lemon cream in a blender and with the motor running, add the butter in small pieces. Allow to cool completely. (You may refrigerate it, but allow to come to cool room temperature before using.)

Lemon Syrup

45g (3 tablespoons) water
45g (1/4 cup) sugar
45g (3 tablespoons) lemon juice

In a nonreactive saucepan, combine the sugar and water and bring to a boil over medium heat. Transfer to a cool bowl, let cool for a bit, then chill for half an hour. Stir in the lemon juice.

Assembly
Split the chiffon cake horizontally into four layers. In an 8-inch cake ring, place a cake board under and the bottom chiffon cake layer. Brush with lemon syrup and spread with a third of the caramel using an offset spatula. Spread a third of the lemon cream over this with an offset spatula. Repeat with the next two layers, then top with the top layer of chiffon cake, then brush with more lemon syrup. Cover with cling film and refrigerate for at least 4 hours or overnight.

Swiss Meringue

175g (about 5-1/2 large, or 3/4 cup minus 1 tablespoon) egg whites
245g (1-1/4 cups) sugar
pinch of salt

In a heatproof bowl over a pan of simmering water, combine the egg whites, sugar, and salt. Beat with a handheld mixer until the mixture holds stiff, glossy peaks, about 7 minutes or more.

Unmold the cake and spread the meringue all over. Use a spatula or a spoon to create dramatic swirls. Using a propane torch if available, scorch the meringue, blackening the tips and swirls.

Don't forget to check out Lisa's Tartine post in the next few days!

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Ruins Longanisang Hubad

2009-07-21T01:08:00.004+08:00

Ruins Naked Filipino Sausage

It's my first time to participate in Marc and Susan's event, Dinner and a Movie (see the announce), this month for Breakfast at Tiffany's. I thought it would be a good one to participate in, because it is such an iconic movie and I'd never seen it before. It would be really easy for me to talk about being afraid to fall in love or being a slut (er, not really), but as I tweeted while watching it, I just couldn't get over particular scenes involving Mr. Yunioshi, and how he 1) acted like no Japanese person I know, and 2) could ever stoop so low as to play such a stupid and misinformed stereotype. It turns out, he wasn't Japanese at all, and was played by Mickey Rooney in yellowface (well duh, Manggy).

Which is sad because it really would have been a pretty good movie if not for that part, which Rooney insists is not meant to be offensive, and that people would find it so is heartbreaking for him. Uh, okay.

Sometimes I wonder how much humor would be left in the world if we were no longer allowed to make fun of stereotypes, but it's so uncreative to think there wouldn't be. It's lazy to think up jokes based on stereotypes. And, I'm happy to say that I don't find humor based on stereotypes funny at all, and that includes Jeff Foxworthy (sorry, fans). I'm glad to see that the world has changed significantly since 1961, but in searching for that video clip above on Youtube, I landed on another video, and read the comments, and stumbled into that guy's profile page, and I gasped. I'm not naive enough to believe there aren't hardcore hate-mongers in the world today, but it always makes me weak, that thumping in my pacifist heart that tells me, yes, there are some streets I will walk where it won't be safe, just because of the color of my skin or the way I look or act. All this (malevolent, violent) hate without knowing a single thing about me.

So. There's no resolution there, unfortunately. And again, a little too heavy for a food blog post, but I think Audrey Hepburn would approve. Allen makes fun of me all the time for not ever posting Filipino food on here, but the truth is, I'm just not a very good Filipino cook, because everyone else is, so I'm never hungry for it. I was supposed to make doughnuts (get it? New York + Breakfast...) but I thought, it's a good opportunity to show everyone how we eat breakfast here.

Filipinos, if the budget allows, generally eat three rice meals a day. Lunch and dinner are identical in weight. As is breakfast, which is usually rice (sinangag, or yesterday's rice fried with garlic) and, for some reason, a cured meat (choose from: cured beef, cured pork, yesterday's Adobo, corned beef, hotdogs or Vienna sausages, dried fish, Filipino sausages) and eggs (itlog).

Filipino sausages are known as "Longanisa" (long-ga-NEE-sa) and show reasonable regional variety. The common elements are fatty pork (though chicken and fish (?) varieties have surfaced), garlic, black pepper, and vinegar, with some regions opting for sweeter mixes, or smokier ones. The triumvirate of Longanisa, rice, and eggs is known as Longsilog. When it includes cured beef or tapa it's known as Tapsilog, and if with sweet cured pork or tocino (which I promised to Todd and Diane I'd eventually feature, when I make it) it's known as Tosilog. The longanisa here is "hubad" (naked), because it has no casing.

The dish here is a favorite of my family's, from our favorite restaurant (Cafe by the Ruins) in Baguio, which is 6 hours North of Manila, and we only visit once in two years or so. I'm glad to have captured its taste so we don't have to travel that far, thanks to a cookbook they released.

Ruins Longanisang Hubad from Cafe by the Ruins: Memories and Recipes
I've scaled down the recipe-- it originally calls for 11 pounds of pork, but then again it is good to freeze some so you can cook at a moment's notice.

1kg (2.2 pounds) boneless pork shoulder

1 tablespoon salt

5 grams (1 tablespoon ground) freshly and coarsely ground black pepper

20 grams (7 cloves) garlic, minced

1/2 teaspoon dried oregano

1 laurel (bay) leaf

1/2 teaspoon dried marjoram

1 teaspoon dried sage

1 tablespoon paprika

250g (1 cup) vinegar (I used cane vinegar)

Cut the pork into 1cm (3/8 inch) cubes, making sure to also include a good proportion (ideally half) of fat cubes as well. This is quite difficult with fully thawed meat, so you may want to do this with half-thawed pork (I'm not sure if butchers will be willing to help you out at least in slicing it 1-cm thick). In a large bowl, mix the rest of the ingredients together, then toss the pork cubes in. Marinate at least overnight in the refrigerator or up to 5 days (freeze after 3 days in the fridge if keeping for longer, draining the vinegar before storage).

To cook, place a heavy-bottomed skillet over high heat. Cook the longanisa in batches with a scant amount of water. As the water evaporates, some of the fat renders out. Continue cooking until the pork cubes are partially crisp, about 10 minutes. Serve with rice (ideally garlic fried rice or red (native) rice, if you can find it) and a fried (or scrambled) egg.

Additional fixins: small bowl of cubed melons, apples, strawberries, bananas, and mangoes, tossed in calamansi juice and drizzled with honey. Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate.

Further reading:
Check out Joey's round-up of Filipino breakfasts.
Don't forget to check out the round-up of Dinner and a Movie coming later this month!

Winter in New York (New York Part 1)

2009-07-15T17:52:00.004+08:00

As usual, just click on any photo go to to the Flickr page, where you can view it full-size.
Welcome to the first of my 2-part feature on New York, the last stop of my "tour" of the US from last Winter (second part comes next month). Actually, I have a few pictures from New Jersey, but it's kind of pathetic because I only managed to take pictures of the food in one restaurant, and not much of anything else (though it's obviously not representative of the number of good places you can eat in New Jersey, as you'll find in Off The Broiler). Anyway, I found the sheer number of pictures I took in New York daunting to process, and that's even as I skillfully evaded places like the Statue of Liberty and the Empire State Building. Even Rockefeller Plaza, and I am a big fan of NBC programming and ice skating. BUT I did get to meet three bloggers, and up there is a picture of the park where Marc and I ate Australian ice cream while talking about the job market.

So, instead of my usual here's-some-sights-now-here's-the-food, we'll get right down to the meat, so to speak. Marc gave me a choice of where to eat, and somehow we ended up in Ippudo. A great stop during a blustery winter's day, because it is home to the best pork ramen I've ever tasted.

It's actually not a good thing because my cheap instant ramen now makes me sad. There were three degrees of heat for the soup, and I chose a moderate one to avoid being given a soup that wasn't enjoyable. However, Marc says their hottest is still not that hot to him, even though I found "moderate" kind of impressive. Marc is a mutant, that's why. Looking at the nearly open kitchen you can see giant vats of steaming broth prepared daily from pork bones. We also had some lovely barbecued pork buns. Fantastic meal I'll have to come back to (hopefully my turn to impress someone else with it).

I also got to meet the gorgeous and funny Claire a few days before Marc (and a few days before the two of them would meet). We met up at Strand Bookstore, one of the most insanely stocked used/new bookstores I've ever seen. The picture above isn't even all of the cooking section; it's maybe a third or a fourth of it. Still, I only bought Grand Finales: The Art of the Plated Dessert; next time I'll have to have a really long list of the books I've always wanted to have (actually good I limited myself, as I had so many cookbooks I had to leave some behind in New Jersey as my luggage couldn't take any more). We also went to Whole Foods and I can't remember if we salivated at the pastries or laughed at them.

We met up with the dashing and hilarious Zen Chef (uh, should I still be using your nom de guerre?) at Cafe d'Alsace. I got to see the Colloquial Cook in action as she laid the smackdown on some poor American waiter for claiming that (some dish I forgot) was a "classic Alsatian dish..." when it was not. The educator was in action, schooling his ass, now trembling in his boots. Of course, when Zen Chef came, she had to relate the hilarity in rapid-fire French. It was too dark to take food pics, but we had the Tarte Flambée (OMG), I had the Choucroute Garnie, and finished a glass of my new favorite white, Gewurztraminer (sweet and fruity, what's not to like?).

For some reason I wanted to go to Sur La Table, but on the way I walked on Bowery Street, which has an insane array of restaurant and kitchen supply stores. I don't think the stock can be beaten, except maybe when it comes to pastry supplies in France. Unfortunately, the prices were not very competitive. I think they get replenished when a restaurant goes under because of the recession.

Speaking of recession, Gray's Papaya, reputed to be one of New York's best hotdogs, had a recession special of 2 hot dogs and orange juice for $5 (I think). I very poorly estimated the size of the hot dogs and thought two would be excessive, so I ordered one. Tiny! Still, I soldiered on the afternoon eating only this, but I still had no problem gaining weight.

I got a borrower's card at the New York Public Library, for cookbook-related research. Ah, a reviewer's job is never done...

I had heard a lot of good things about Patisserie Claude, but I wasn't very impressed with it. It just seemed so sad! Claude had already retired but his staff was still there. I got a very cold slice of tarte tatin.

Bonchon Chicken had been getting a lot of buzz as THE Korean fried chicken you must try. My friend Genie and I split a medium order of hot and spicy wings and legs, but we were so stuffed so we left one behind. I still dream of that remaining piece, sigh. It's also the other place Marc suggested. It's located on the second floor of the building, so don't get discouraged looking for it-- just look up.

My search for new and unfamiliar eats brought me to Brooklyn, though only for a little while. The tranquility was very jarring, having been in Manhattan for most of the day! But I love the place. I was hoping to see Ann, but she was probably a bit busy.

I arrived at the cafeteria of the Polish & Slavic Center on Kent St. in Brooklyn for my first taste of authentic Polish food. I had the Wieprzowina zapiekana w sosie czosnkowym (pork with garlic gravy), with beets, red cabbage (three things I've never had before), mashed potatoes and a glass of kompot for a very reasonable price. A very tall, beautiful and well-dressed woman helped little old me order the things, because the nice woman behind the counter could not understand me at all. The pork was extremely tender and lovely, but I was shocked when I tasted the gravy-- the garlic in it was completely raw! Quite a heavy flavor, but no less delicious. It must have been quite a sight for the staff to see a young Asian man in the place, instead of the burly/statuesque/blond clientele they usually get!

Financier Patisserie is rated to be one of New York's best, perhaps under Payard (which is coming up on my next feature on New York!). It certainly is a very lively place in the middle of Manhattan's financial district (check out the slick businessmen and the one emo kid!).

I ate here with Genie, and we shared an Alhambra (classic gateau of hazelnut-chocolate cake and ganache) and Caramel Brownie. The desserts were quite decadent, though I wish the Alhambra could have been kept at a slightly higher temperature (or maybe we should have waited to dig in?).

I've heard a little bit about The Petrossian Boutique which specializes in fine food (notably caviar), but it was kind of opulently sad? I don't know. There were two strangers having a friendly chat about the government, though, while they were seated in two adjacent tables. I had an orange curd tart with a chocolate shell.

I was excited to eat at Amy's Bread in the West Village, especially since I'm always excited to eat in a place with a book out (The Sweeter Side of Amy's Bread)-- it has a promise of home replication. The place was cozy, the manager was friendly, and all the treats looked tempting. The chicken soup hit the spot on a cold pre-Spring day. Since I'd just returned from San Francisco, I was still craving Miette's gingerbread, but unfortunately this one came out a bit dry. It really needs a syrup soak to achieve superior moistness. I should've gone for a slice of their sky-high cakes!

Our last stop for this week's tour is Zabar's on Broadway. The tagline on the site says "Zabar's is New York, New York is Zabar's." If by that, they mean both are cacophonous orgies of gastronomic treats, then I guess it's accurate. Above is a picture of one of the staff dispensing coffee beans.

On the second floor you'll find nothing but more and more kitchen stuff. Orgasm. Unfortunately again, the prices were not competitive. What can I say, I'm a real bargain hunter.

You think that's a lot of cheese?

No, this is a lot of cheese. Way to go Zabar's. I wish I had loaded up on varieties which are expensive here AHEMREBLOCHONAHEM, but then again it would be illegal to bring them back.

Whew! Part 2 coming soon. I hope you've enjoyed the trip so far.

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Mango Parfait with Orange Anise Jelly

2009-07-08T00:03:00.003+08:00

I transferred from another elementary/primary school to high school. As a result, many of my classmates knew each other from before, and my classmates had friends in other sections. In the Philippine school system before college, sections of 40-50 students are stationary in the room, it's the teachers that moved around, so I never really got to meet anyone outside my 49 classmates in 4 years. Anyway, there was this boy from another section about a year older than me who was a paraplegic (? functionally, if not totally) and therefore always walked with crutches all over the campus. I knew his name but I didn't know anything else about him.

One day when the halls were pretty deserted, I was on my way out of the library when I spotted him making his way up the stairs. I'm not sure how my recollections have been colored (I was 14 at the time), but he was really struggling-- as he usually does. He climbs the stairs every day. So many thoughts ran through my head: he climbs the stairs every day. He never needs any assistance. He might get offended if a complete stranger offered him assistance now. I don't know why, but the thought that won that day was, stupidly, "Let me just run up the stairs as fast as I can and appear to be in a hurry so I can pretend that I'm too busy to notice him."

So that's what I did. And as soon as I was a meter away from the landing, I heard a trembling, almost angry remark: "Thanks."

Thanks. You cold, uncaring person. Thanks for not at least offering a hand to help me. Thanks for trying to pretend I don't exist. It haunts me to this day. Thanks.

Why was I so afraid of being humiliated? Do people really admonish others who try to come to their aid even if they don't need it? Is it possible to be hated because you thought they needed help? Maybe, but I don't want to think about those things anymore. I couldn't live with myself again if I knew that I could have helped someone but pretended not to notice them just to spare my own "feelings." I may not have been able to help him that day, but his sarcasm and his anger helped me. From that day, I don't ignore people who may need my help, whether they ask for it or not, whether they appreciate it or not. To hear no thanks is better than to hear it again from someone I've hurt.

Anyway. This dessert comes from the Michelin-starred Maze restaurant of Gordon Ramsay and Jason Atherton. When the sun is being oppressive, just pop out one of these domes of fresh, custardy goodness and it'll hit the spot. I tried to be clever and adopt Johnny Iuzzini's fluid gel technique for the orange jelly but it didn't look so pretty, so I'm just going to include the original recipe for the jelly here. The original presentation of the parfait is as a 1-cm thick 8-cm diameter disc sandwiched between 2 thin discs of mango, and served with mango sorbet and the jelly. However, I didn't have enough mangoes to make a sorbet, so I just served it as is, with a mango "carpaccio."

Mango Parfait with Orange Anise Jelly adapted from Gordon Ramsay's Maze
Mango Parfait

3 large ripe mangoes

3 large egg yolks

75g (6 tablespoons) sugar

180g (3/4 cup) heavy cream, cold

For the molds, you can use six 8-cm (3-inch) metal cutters, a silicone demisphere form, or a muffin tin. If using the cutters or the tin, line with cling film.

Peel the mangoes. Cut the flesh parallel to the stone in thin slices (see the picture-- I didn't peel it yet as our mangoes are too soft and I needed a good handle on them; I just cut the skin away from the slices). From the bigger slices, cut out twelve 8-cm (3-inch) circles using a metal cutter, or as large as you can manage. Set them aside chilled and wrapped with cling film.

Remove any trace of skin from the rest of the mango slices and the scraps, if any, and puree them. Push the puree through a fine sieve, discarding any fibrous pieces. Measure out 250g (about a cup minus 2 tablespoons) and set aside.

In a heatproof bowl set over barely simmering water, whisk together the egg yolks and sugar using a handheld mixer until it triples in volume and is thick and pale (ribbons falling from the beaters will leave a ribbon that slowly sinks). If you only have a stand mixer, just follow the recipe here, using 3 egg yolks, 90g (scant 1 cup) sugar, and 60mL (1/4 cup) water.

In a cold mixing bowl, whip the cream until it holds soft peaks. Fold the mango puree into the egg yolk mixture, then fold in the whipped cream. Divide between the molds, cover with cling film and freeze until firm.

Orange and Star Anise Jelly

250g (1 cup) fresh orange juice, strained

2 star anise

2 sheets leaf gelatin, or 1 teaspoon powdered gelatin

Sprinkle the gelatin (or soak if using leaves) in cold water. Meanwhile, heat the orange juice and star anise in a nonreactive saucepan until barely simmering. If using powdered gelatin, heat over barley simmering water until it is dissolved (or in a microwavable bowl on LOW power for a few seconds. If using leaf gelatin, squeeze out the excess water. Remove the juice from the heat and add the gelatin, stirring to dissolve. Pass through a fine sieve, let cool, and chill until set.

Orange Powder

2 large oranges

Preheat the oven to 100°C (212°F). Using a vegetable peeler, pare the zest from the oranges and cut away any white pith that comes with it. Drop in a pan of boiling water for a few seconds, then plunge it in iced water. Repeat the boil/ice water cycle 2 more times, then pat dry with towels. Spread the zest on a sheet pan and dry for 30-40 minutes or until brittle. Process to a fine powder in a food processor or spice grinder.

To assemble: if using the metal cutters as molds, remove the parfaits from the plastic wrap and cutter, and place on top of a mango disc, then top with another mango disc. Spoon orange jelly (and mango sorbet, if available) on top. Sprinkle with the orange powder.

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Week-End

2009-07-02T17:38:00.001+08:00

When I was in medical school there was this little-known (HAH) release by R. Kelly during his strange phase called "Ignition (Remix)". There's a line that goes, "It's the freakin weekend baby, I'm about to have me some fun," which I really loved because it's easy to feel fried by the end of the week as a student. During my later years it was even more precious to have a free weekend because clinical duties have little concern with what day it is, except those who don't have overnight duty can go home at noon. Big whoop, right? (By the way, I call it R. Kelly's strange phase because prior to that he was primarily known for his ballads. Anyone remember "I'm Your Angel" with Celine Dion?)

I'm sure my friends thought it was pretty strange of me to be rejoicing over the weekend, because I was one of the uncommon types who, instead of staying behind and hanging out with friends, I packed my bags (and dirty laundry of course) and headed home with my family every weekend I had a chance. I bet they were wondering if I had any actual youth-y fun.

Okay, so it doesn't sound that exciting and I would seem like the kind of person for which weekends are a waste, but there's just something about being able to lie down in your bed at home (and sleep the afternoon away if you must), not worry about having to prepare your own meals, and go shopping or to Mass with my family. YAWN! Well, I like the simple things.

I do have some friends who strangely took it upon themselves to show me what it means to have a good time ("Try this [drink], it's good!"), and I know they meant well, but I wasn't so concerned about fun as I was about relaxing. Partying and such is just a little too much effort. Too stressful. Dressing up, trying to impress people, talking over loud music, having to reject drink after drink (failing maybe once a night, heh), when all I want is to not be so wound up.

So, what do you do (or rather be doing) on your weekends? :)

P.S. I knew I was in love with the English when the nice man from some transportation service in London told me to "have a nice wee-KEND." I've always tried to say it like that ever since.

This is a simple French poundcake-style cake with a light, lemony flavor and a slight hint of rum. I love the way it uses the bottom as the top, so it has a beautiful surface which can be very reflective if done right. According to The Art of the Cake, "it originated in the thirties probably to celebrate the introduction of the five-day workweek with a weekend holiday (semaine anglaise)."

Week-End adapted from The Art of the Cake by Bruce Healy and Paul Bugat
Since I didn't have crème fraîche, I used sour cream with no apparent loss in quality. In the book the bottom edge is covered with a band of chopped almonds 1/2 inch high, and the top-center scattered with chopped pistachios.

85g (6 tablespoons) unsalted butter, softened

225g (1 cup + 2 tablespoons) sugar

zest of 3 lemons

3 large eggs at room temperature

2 large egg yolks at room temperature

120g (1/2 cup) crème fraîche or sour cream

140g (1 cup) all-purpose flour

30g (2-1/2 tablespoons) cornstarch

1 teaspoon baking powder

45g (3 tablespoons) dark Jamaican or Haitian rum

Preheat the oven to 175°C (350°F). Prepare a loaf pan with at least 1.5L (6-cup) capacity (10 x 4 x 2.5" or 9 x 5 x 2.5" works) by spraying with baking spray, lining with parchment cut to fit the bottom and sides exactly, and the parchment sprayed again. Rub the sugar and lemon zest together till the sugar turns pale yellow. Whisk together the flour, cornstarch, and baking powder in a medium bowl.

In a large bowl, cream the butter, then add 100g (1/2 cup) of the sugar and continue beating until very pale, about 5 minutes. Beat in the remaining lemon sugar. Beat in the eggs and egg yolks, one at a time, beating well after each addition until it appears homogeneous. Beat in the crème fraîche or sour cream. Sift the flour onto the batter in 3 additions, folding well after each. When well-incorporated, sprinkle the rum on top and fold gently. Pour into the loaf pan and smooth the top. Bake until the cake begins to shrink from the sides and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean, about 50-70 minutes.

Cool the cake in the pan for 5 minutes, then unmold and turn right-side-up on a rack and cool completely. Peel the parchment away from the sides and cut the top off with a bread knife so it is flat. Cut a cake board to almost fit this area, but smaller by 1/4" on both dimensions, and place it on top. Turn the cake upside-down on a wire rack and remove the parchment completely.

100g (5 tablespoons) strained apricot jam, melted

50g (2 tablespoons + 2 teaspoons) confectioner's sugar, sifted

2 teaspoons dark Jamaican or Haitian rum

(To make the strained apricot jam, heat apricot jam over low heat until melted, then force it using a pestle or rubber spatula through a fine sieve, discarding the tough, fibrous pieces.) Preheat the oven to 230°C (450°F). Brush the top and sides of the cake with the apricot jam completely. In a small bowl, combine the confectioner's sugar and rum, then add as much cold water (in 1/2-teaspoon increments) until it forms a smooth paste just fluid enough to spread easily with a pastry brush. Brush the top and sides of the cake completely. Place the cake with the board onto a sheet pan and bake in the oven for 1-1/2 to 2 minutes, or until the glaze is translucent (if the glaze starts to bubble around the edges, remove the cake from the oven). Slide it back onto the wire rack and let cool completely.

The cake can be kept at room temperature for 4 days uncovered (it won't dry out because of the glaze). Keep it in the refrigerator on a hot day, but let it come to room temperature before serving.

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Summer Fruit Bavarian

2009-06-25T20:06:00.006+08:00

While doing my usual rounds of the food blogs, I came across a banner that intrigued me: it was from BlogHer, asking us (you?) if marketing to women is all about stereotypes. I couldn't quite remember the content of the articles I read from that link, but one writer was lamenting about a sparkly pink candy "just for the ladies" (I can't remember if this is the article I read about the controversial candy bar called "The Finger") while another one, about a "misguided laptops-for-women site." I found myself agreeing with the content of the articles, and of course I am for gender-neutral advertising, for the most part. But don't think men have been dealt a better hand.

Just watching a local cable network here, "Maxx" (probably your equivalent would be SpikeTV, Americans), where I get my daily dose of The Daily Show and The Colbert Report, all the ads are geared towards men. The tagline is "get away with it." Away with what? Oh, watching extreme sports, bikini-clad computer-generated anime females that I hope are meant to be older than 21, references to wanking, beer, infidelity, pugilism, poker, and yes, we prefer women to be dumb (and biting their nails for some reason). Why is The Daily Show and The Colbert Report (among other comedy shows) here? Because laughter apparently requires testicles.

On the other hand, you have the Hallmark Network (a subsidiary of Lifetime Television), where there is a ribbon threaded through every ad, and comedy is channeled through "The Nanny" (which I actually like-- before they got married). While I was at the gym, a Lifetime movie was playing, and I think I have the necessary elements down pat:
1. lead character is a woman
2. mother
3. wedding
4. sister
5. regret in life
6. road trip
7. tequila
8. neglectful man
9. "don't you just wish you could... break out/let loose?" is uttered
10. makeover
11. illness
12. crying
13. tantrum
14. someone gets wet in the rain
15. redemption.
In my movie's case, 1 is Dany Delany and 2 is Doris Roberts.

So, do we ask for these stereotypes? Do we enjoy them? Are pink ponies on your laptop or monster trucks merely us trying to fill some need in our childhood? Why can't advertising agencies get over the fact that we aren't boys and girls any longer? Well, to answer the question of the banner-- yes. Advertising is all about stereotypes and demographics! They wouldn't have been hired if they didn't know their markets (well, apparently they took it too far). But then again, I wonder how bland a world that is truly gender-neutral would be...

ANYWAY. I know it's only ridiculously hot in some areas, but let's be thankful for small favors, people getting rained on :) Amazon has an ongoing promo-- up to 40% off on select ice cream makers. My favorite models (from Cuisinart, arguably the best home ice cream maker makers) are included.

Check out the blackberry swirl ice cream and maple-walnut ice cream I made, both from The Perfect Scoop.

Now, this is one of my favorite recipes from Tartine-- I have served it three times and it always elicits a satisfying gasp from the crowd. It is undeniably feminine in its prettiness, but watch as your elegant guests plow through it like hobos. The chiffon cake recipe from the book is a keeper-- never flopped once, and it is delightfully soft, light, and mild. For my peeps in the South, check out Lisa's post on Steamed Gingerbread Pudding coming early next month.

Summer Fruit Bavarian adapted from Tartine
Chiffon Cake

160g (1 cup plus 2 tablespoons) all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

150g (3/4 cup) sugar

1/2 teaspoon salt

55g (1/4 cup) vegetable oil (I used canola)

3 large egg yolks, at room temperature

88g (6 tablespoons) water

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

3/4 teaspoon grated lemon zest

5 large egg whites, at room temperature

small pinch cream of tartar (1/8 teaspoon if you must)

Line the bottom of an 8-inch cake pan or ring (at least 2-1/2 inches high) with parchment paper cut to fit exactly; don't grease the pan. Preheat the oven to 160°C (325°F).

In a large mixing bowl, whisk together the oil, egg yolks, water, vanilla, lemon zest, salt, baking powder, and 125g (1 cup and 2 tablespoons) sugar until combined. Sift the flour over this, at the same time whisking until very smooth.

In another large mixing bowl, beat the egg whites until frothy, then add the cream of tartar and beat on medium-high speed until it holds soft peaks. Add the remaining 25g (2 tablespoons) sugar slowly while beating on medium-high speed until the whites hold firm, shiny peaks. Add a third of the egg whites and fold into the yolk mixture to lighten, then fold in the rest of the whites until just combined.

Pour the batter into the pan and spin it around to flatten the batter. Bake until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean, about 30-40 minutes. Let cool in the pan on a wire rack. Once completely cool, run a thin knife around the sides and invert onto your hand (a little crust loss is okay since it'll be covered with cream, but you may also invert onto a sheet of parchment sprayed with baking spray if you wish), then place right-side up on a platter. Measure the height of the cake and split it horizontally into two layers of equal height. Carefully separate the layers (I used the bottom of a tart pan).

Bavarian: prepare the pastry cream in advance, or earlier in the day to give it time to cool.

250g (1 cup) milk

1/2 vanilla bean

small pinch of salt

2 tablespoons cornstarch

58g (4-1/2 tablespoons) sugar

1 large egg

27g (2 tablespoons) unsalted butter

3/4 teaspoon gelatin

1/2 tablespoon water

250g (1 cup) heavy cream, very cold

Make the pastry cream: In a small saucepan, add the milk and scrape the vanilla caviar into it, then throw the pod and salt in. Heat the milk gently, whisking constantly, until small bubbles start to appear on the sides. Remove from the heat. In a small mixing bowl, whisk together the cornstarch, sugar, and egg until a paste is formed. Pour the milk into the paste in a thin stream, whisking madly all the while. Return this to the saucepan and place over low heat, constantly whisking until the bubbles just disappear, about a minute. Immediately remove from the heat and place into a cool bowl. When it comes down to about 60°C (140°F), whisk in the butter until incorporated. Leave to cool completely, then place cling film flush against the surface and place in the fridge.

In a small dish, sprinkle the gelatin over the water and let stand for a few minutes. Take 60g (1/4 cup) of the pastry cream and heat it in a microwaveable bowl at LOW in 10-second intervals, or in a heatproof bowl over simmering water until it is hot to the touch. Remove from the heat and whisk in the gelatin water until smooth. Whisk in half the remaining cold pastry cream until well-combined, then the remaining pastry cream.

Whip the cream using a cold bowl and beaters until it holds medium-stiff peaks, then fold in the pastry cream mixture.

Fruit Puree

85g (slightly more than 1/2 cup) berries-- I used raspberries

25g (2 tablespoons) sugar

pinch of salt

Combine the three ingredients in a blender until smooth.

Assembly

150g (1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons) heavy cream, very cold

2 teaspoons sugar

285g (10 oz or a pint) berries or cherries, or 340g (12 oz) peaches, apricots, or nectarines, or any mixture of both

Whip the cream and sugar using a cold bowl and beaters until it hold soft peaks.

Use an 8" cake ring or springform pan to assemble. Line the sides with plastic wrap, or as I did, a strip of food grade acetate. Place a cake board cut to 8" diameter on the bottom, then the bottom layer of cake. Brush this with half the fruit puree. Spoon on half the filling, then arrange the fresh fruit over this (if using strawberries, start with the sides, using halved strawberries). Dump the remaining filling over this, using an offset spatula to go over the surface to make sure there are no large air pockets. Place the top layer of cake over this push lightly over the top to compress the filling. Moisten the top layer with the remaining fruit puree. Frost the top with the sweetened whip cream, taking care not to bleed the color of the puree into it (spoon the cream over the whole surface, then fix it with an offset spatula). Refrigerate for at least 4 hours. Unmold and remove the plastic wrap or acetate before serving.

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Lemon Chicken

2009-06-19T19:12:00.003+08:00

Sitting on my virtual desktop I actually have a text file that contains several topics I think I may eventually want to talk about on the blog. Whenever I think of something and it turns into an essay in my mind, I file it there just so my food, for some reason, can have a pinch of loopy in it. However, looking at the file and scouring my brain for any sort of content I want to accompany this dish (it also determines the subtitle in the picture), I realize I didn't want to talk about anything at all. I am aware that sometimes you probably don't feel like reading or commenting on anything except the dish, and sometimes I just go on and on not realizing I didn't say anything about the dish. Oops. Well, today's a good day because this one's a no-brainer. Aaah!

I keep talking about how the first cooking shows I watched were Caprial's Cafe, Baker's Dozen, and Biba's Italian Kitchen (and something I'd rather forget, Cooking with the Urban Peasant). But I just remembered that that's not true: the first cooking shows I ever watched, and probably the case for most Filipinos my age, were Wok With Yan (with Stephen Yan) and Cooking It Up With Nora. The former is US-produced and I'm sure it rings a bell with a lot of you. I loved that show. He'd ask us to put 3 tablespoons of oil (cups?) in the wok, and for that he'd pour a smooth stream from his little pitcher of cooking oil in a circle just within the circumference of the wok's bowl, a circle for each tablespoon (or cup?). At the end of the episode, he'd carve a swan or an Eiffel Tower or Buckyball out of an apple or carrot for garnish.

Come to think of it, I can't remember a single episode where he didn't fry anything. I don't know what happened to Stephen Yan (he was eventually replaced on my television with the less charismatic but goofier Martin Yan in Yan Can Cook), but I hope his efforts to try to appeal to "American" "Chinese" tastes did not result in intractable hyperlipidemia.

I don't know who started what but there was this movement to just coat everything "Chinese" in thick cornstarch batter and serve it with a sweet glop. This version of lemon chicken is not that. It is all-natural, has no day-glo/ radioactive colors, just the right amount of tart and sweet, comes together in almost no time at all, and is delicious to the last bite without making you feel ill. Honest lemon chicken that tastes of actual lemons. Who knew?

Lemon Chicken adapted from Chinese food master W.K. Leung's recipe on the eGullet forums (the link has a step-by-step pictorial.)
You may also use 360g (1-1/2 cups) packaged lemonade (Minute Maid or such) and the juice of one lemon in place of the lemons, sugar, and water indicated in the recipe.

670g (1-1/2 pounds) chicken breasts, filleted (2 breasts. You may leave the skins on, but I took them out.)

salt and fresh ground pepper

1 large egg

50g (6 tablespoons) cornstarch

50g (1/2 cup) unseasoned bread crumbs (dry or fresh, doesn't matter much. Use panko if you like.)

4 lemons

50g (1/4 cup) granulated sugar (you may use even less sugar if you want a tarter dish.)

10g (1 tablespoon) cornstarch

Using a meat tenderizer or food mallet, pound the chicken breasts to flatten them. Cut each breast into 4 pieces and season with a little salt and pepper. In a small bowl, beat the egg lightly. In a skillet, heat about half an inch of cooking oil over medium heat (I didn't take any temperatures, but you'll want a light sizzle on a bit of the of breadcrumbs tossed into the oil). Coat each piece of chicken in a cornstarch (use the 50g quantity), slapping off the excess, then dip each into the egg, then coat completely on both sides with bread crumbs. Shallow-fry each piece for about 3 minutes on each side, then park onto a plate lined with paper towels.

Juice the lemons, saving 2 thin slices of lemon for garnish. Add enough water to the lemon juice to make 360g (1-1/2 cups). In a small nonreactive saucepan over medium heat, add the diluted lemon juice and sugar, stirring to dissolve. Let it boil and reduce to half the quantity, about 10 minutes. In the meantime, stir together the 10g cornstarch and 1 tablespoon water in a small bowl until dissolved. Add the cornstarch slurry into the reduced lemonade and stir together. Let it boil until it reaches the desired consistency-- I waited for the sauce to hold a track drawn by my finger on the back of a spoon dipped in the sauce, about 2 minutes.

Place the chicken on a serving plate (cut them up into bite-size pieces if you wish), and pour the sauce over. Garnish with the lemon slices and serve immediately with plenty of rice.

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Tales of the City (San Francisco Part 4)

2009-06-11T21:04:00.004+08:00

"Is San Francisco still boring?" A friend of mine asked when I told him I was there, and it totally short-circuited my brain because I have no idea how anyone could think that. Granted our trips there were years apart, but in my opinion it's one of the liveliest places I've seen (not that there's anything wrong with peace and quiet-- they both have their benefits). Perhaps it's because there's been considerable growth of the food scene in the interim. I'm posting this slightly ahead of schedule to give Caitlin a better idea of what to expect or search when she goes there. As it turns out, it opened my eyes to even more things I still want to see/eat when (not if, hopefully) I return! (... and please don't badmouth my anonymous friend, I won't allow it.) Above is a photograph of the always-lively Sur La Table at the Ferry Market Building.

Here are only 3 of the walking routes I took searching for my food treasures. What I don't show is the Southern route I took walking from the 24th St. Bart station to the murals, and the Northern route I took from Westfield, through Chinatown, Transamerica Pyramid, and North Beach to meet Marvin for Italian. And yes, these walks take between 30 minutes to an hour at normal pace, not counting stopping and taking pictures. It's the uphill part that kills me!

Here's a serendipitously dramatic shot I took from the platform of the Muni. (Yes, the photo is altered and cropped so the thoughtful-looking young man is brought to the fore. My other candidates were the old couple in front, but the man was wearing earphones. Funnier than it was dramatic.)

Last year, Thip recommended Yasukochi Sweet Shop. I'm glad to have gone there, partially because it brought me to Japantown, which is just about the most beautiful area in downtown San Francisco (see, I do like peace and quiet). I saw Paper Tree, a great Origami and stationery specialty shop. Yasukochi Sweet shop is located inside the Japanese grocery, and it's not quite what I envisioned (which was dorayaki, mochi, wagashi, pan), but a simple, humble bakery. I got the blueberry turnover, and it was looovely, taste tickled my mouth-- but it was not blueberry. I'm not well-versed with more uncommon (non-commercial) American berries, but it could have been Boysenberry. So I love you, anonymous berry.

Walking a little further, I saw La Boulange, which contained Bay Bread. I was excited to try my first canelé, but oh! There was a huge air pocket inside. I don't think that's supposed to happen, and of course Duncan confirmed it for me. I did love the rich caramelized crust and the sweet, slightly eggy center, though. And the pear and cranberry tart was perfect-- all the way down to the soft, yielding crust.

My hidden Southern route also brought me to Omnivore Books on Food. I'd already maxed out on cookbooks in the weeks past, so I wasn't able to buy anything, but there's plenty of imported (still English) books, but the main attraction is I think the antique books. Also, Flo Braker, my baking hero (since I watched her on the Learning Channel, she reminded me of my Botany teacher) was scheduled to give a talk, but I could neither buy a book (even if I didn't have to), nor did I have the time (it was my last day in SFO).

The Western route takes you through Paulette Macarons, and it is arguably one of the best shops for macarons in the United States. And how could it not be, since all the staff was French and they were following Christophe Michalak? The violet cassis, raspberry (OMIGOSH), and dragée macarons were out of this world, but the caramel salé one was a wildcard-- it seemed a little harder than the rest (even if the taste was gorgeous). The staff was also fantastic and allowed me to take as many pictures as I wanted.

I wanted to eat good dimsum (though I hear it's still not as good as Vancouver), and for some reason instead of Daly City's Koi Palace, me, my aunt, and my grand-aunt ate at Ton Kiang-- but the food was still top-notch for me. It turns out, I can't get my relatives to eat certain things ("YOU DON'T WANT DUCK?!?!") so I was ridiculously stuffed! I mean, look at that duck! We also had nol mai gai, ha gao (can't NOT!), jin doy, siu mai, chow fun, golden fried squid, and mango pudding. Man, I wish I could teleport all the food I couldn't stuff into my face anymore right here right now. The third good dim sum recommendation is Yank Sing, which was unfortunately closed when I went (afternoon, you see).

Another place I really wanted to eat in last year was Saigon Sandwich Shop, and man, did I discover WAY too late in life the thing that makes Todd and Diane sing. I'll be VERY impressed indeed if there's a better banh mi out there. Satisfying lunch, marred only by having to listen to some aggressively boring girl talk about auditioning for The Real World even though she think she's too cool to know what it's about. (Never heard of it, yet auditioned. Really now.) There's only one table inside, so have somewhere to sit-- Jefferson Square and Japantown are nearby. Best cheapest lunch, ever!

My aunt also wanted me to have a slightly more upscale dining experience (even though I have crowned myself king of cheap dining options), so she took me and my uncle to Absinthe Brasserie and Bar and of course I wished I drank! But the meal was nothing to scoff at-- I had the frisée, baby leeks vinaigrette, house-smoked bacon, fried duck egg, fines herbs, and caviar (my first time!), which was out of this world (but probably Tuesday for Heather). Also here is a slow-cooked pork shoulder with beans, flatbread "pizza", squash soup, panna cotta with meyer lemon gelée, blood orange sorbet, and warm chocolate and banana tart with roasted banana ice cream. Sublime from start to finish.

The Eastern route is something I wouldn't recommend without a car, because the walk from the Civic Center to Patisserie Philippe is crushingly boring, unless you consider empty buildings scenic. The walk back, which led to the Museum of Modern Art and some cute coffee shops along the way, was much better. I ordered the "Obama" entremet (heh), which frightened me a little because it had coconut mousse, but I'm pleased to say I quite like it. They could've improved their macaron recipe, though. I didn't try them but they were seriously lumpy, I didn't want to!

One more restaurant we ate in was Crab House at Pier 39, which I realize is a huge tourist trap. I enjoyed the salad more than I did the crab-- sorry, but it's just way too expensive ($100 for four people just for the crab), and I've had better (cooked by my grand-uncle, also in San Francisco).

So, that's most of the memorable places I ate in San Francisco. More notable ones include Marnee Thai (one of the best Thai restaurants in California, and great prices too), Castro Tarts (recommended by Celia, the owner of Omnivore Books, though I didn't go), and a few more I wasn't able to go to: Pizzeria Delfina, El Tonayense (a very good taco truck), Zuni Cafe (went last year), Shalimar (Pakistani food), Slanted Door, Pagolac, A16, Liguria Bakery, Tortas Boos Voni, Shin Toe Bul Yi, Incanto, and Piperade. All for next time!

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Also check out: 100 Things to Try in SF Before You Die

Paella

2009-06-09T15:09:00.006+08:00

Susan once told me over at Twitter that she imagined I wasn't a problem child and gave my parents no headaches. That's probably true... To some extent. I didn't hang around the kids in my neighborhood (plenty of cousins to keep me entertained), didn't get to any fights, and was quite content to stay indoors and draw away on my sketchpads, and a bunch of other introverted hobbies like origami or listening to music.

The Beatles's, specifically Ringo Starr's Octopus's Garden. So cute! I would play it for you on the piano but it's just me goofing around and freestyling.

But what they didn't know was during the school-year (this was in elementary/primary school), I'd ask them to stay behind later at school so I could hang out with my friends. That wasn't prohibited, but I knew if they knew what I spent my time doing was straying a few blocks outside the campus to play video games, they'd put the kibosh on it. Not that playing video games wasn't allowed, but they would've probably died of fright if they knew I was outside the four walls of the school. A little justified given the area outside a school would be where most predators would hang out, but I didn't care much.

It was a great feeling to hang out with friends and kick butt in Street Fighter 2 or Mortal Kombat (or a game I always insisted on playing but in hindsight, was pretty terrible: World Heroes). I wasn't really enjoying defying my parents (much less lying to them), but for an hour after school most days, I could be nearly care-free (imagine that? Schoolwork is a care! Oh little Mark, if I could tell you what I know now!) and just do regular boy stuff. Besides, it's not like my grades slipped even a little.

What was funniest about it is that these shops weren't doing anything illegal (they were renting out use of Super Nintendoes), but they had to be so dimly lit it gave that impression of danger! It's not like they were handing out drugs to kids. There were truants hanging around, cheering on the best fighters. I felt like I was so cool! And just recently, nearly 15 years after I graduated elementary school, I was at a mall in New Jersey where young people were having an official Street Fighter 4 tournament, trash-talking and cheering on the challengers. I smiled. You guys aren't even that good, I thought to myself.

... So, what kinds of naughtiness did you enjoy when you were a kid? :)

Anyway. The two pieces I folded above are from Origami Sea Life by the ridiculously talented Robert Lang. The chambered Nautilus looks really simple but it is a pain in the butt to fold, because it retains the logarithmic spiral and the basic 3D structure of an actual Nautilus. The next one is a poorly folded Cattleya orchid (the paper I used was too thick and small).

And someone requested the diagram for the Anemone I folded in an earlier post, and it's a little tricky but with some experience, it's quite easy to fold.

Paella adapted from C I
While my friends told me it was good and so did my parents, I didn't particularly enjoy this. A measly can of diced tomatoes just does not have enough sweetness and "oomph" to really flavor this much rice. I prefer things to be on the sweeter, spicier side, so I would probably go for a big can of tomato sauce next time (this thing, not ketchup, you Aussies) instead.

750g (3 cups) chicken broth

pinch saffron threads, crumbled

1 dried bay leaf

411g (14.5oz can) diced tomatoes

olive oil

1 red bell pepper, seeded and cut lengthwise into 1cm (1/2 inch) wide strips

450g (1 pound) chicken thighs, halved crosswise

225g (8oz) chorizo, sliced 1cm (1/2 inch) thick

1 medium onion, chopped finely

9 garlic cloves, minced

290g (2 cups) Valencia or Arborio rice

80g (1/3 cup) dry white wine

450g (1 pound) extra large shrimp (21/25)

12 mussels, scrubbed and debearded (couldn't find these so near New Year's, darn. So I hacked two crabs in half and placed them in with the shrimp)

70g (1/2 cup) thawed frozen peas

small handful fresh parsley leaves, chopped

lemon wedges

To the container of chicken broth or in a medium bowl, add the saffron, bay leaf, and 1/2 teaspoon salt to the broth and set aside. Drain the diced tomatoes, mince, and then drain them again. Set aside.

Preheat the oven to 175°C (350°F). In a large Dutch oven or paella pan, heat 2 teaspoons olive oil over medium-high heat until it shimmers, then add the peppers and toss until the skin is blistered and has black spots. Transfer the peppers to a plate. In the same pan, add 1 teaspoon olive oil and heat until it shimmers. Add the chicken pieces and cook untouched until well-browned, then turn and brown the other side. Transfer the chicken to a plate. In the same pan, cook the chorizo until browned (about 5 minutes). Transfer the pieces to the plate with chicken.

Reduce the heat to medium and add enough olive oil so the pan contains 2 tablespoons of fat. Heat until shimmering. Add the onion and cook until softened. Add the garlic and cook until you can smell its aroma. Add the tomatoes and cook until thickened and darkened, about 3 minutes. Add the rice and stir to coat the grains. Add the
seasoned chicken broth and wine, and stir. Add the chicken and chorizo and bring to a boil uncovered, stirring occasionally. Cover the paella pan or dutch oven and transfer it to the oven. Cook until the rice absorbs nearly all the liquid, about 15 minutes. Uncover the pan, scatter the shrimp and mussels (hinge down), bell pepper and peas, then cover and return to the oven. Cook until the shrimp is opaque and mussels have opened, about 10 minutes. Discard any mussels that have not opened.

Uncover the pan and return it over a medium-high flame. Cook for 5 minutes, rotating the pan 180° halfway through. Sprinkle with the parsley and serve with lemon wedges.

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You may also want to check out Joey's post on Paella!

Sticky Toffee Pudding

2009-06-03T23:41:00.004+08:00

When I was in my fourth year of undergrad (positively the Dark Ages), one of my friends who was frustrated with me told me point-blank that I cut people too little slack. As a result, she said, I hurt one of my closest friends at the time, who said I made him feel stupid. You have to be thankful for those moments when people are being brutally honest with you, because during the 90% of the time when people are just being mindlessly polite, you can't accurately make an assessment of yourself and your values. (Hopefully not too often, though, because it can get depressing.) However, even though I felt really bad for how he perceived me (for the record, I never thought he was stupid), I never said sorry for the things I made him feel.

Fast-forward to 7-9 years later, and I still haven't said anything. It's just that during the rare times that we see each other, everything seems to be back to normal. There's laughter, there's joshing, there's chatting, everything that friends do. And when I come home later, there's that sinking feeling that he would never feel as comfortable with me as he did when I was sure we were okay. However, talking to him about him nearly a DECADE later might just reopen a wound he doesn't want to be reminded of.

I guess guys are like that. If you think guys are horrible when it comes to apologizing to women, I assure you they are absolute crap when it comes to apologizing to other men (how can we be crap if WE DON'T EVEN DO IT?). Probably only when one is halfway through a drunken stupor would an actual "sorry" be uttered. It's one of the points in the series The Inbetweeners (watch this episode part 1, 2, and 3, with a warning of strong language and mature themes) that I really appreciated-- Simon and Jay never address the problem. They simply go on as if it had never happened, with the hope that Will understands he can always count on them (uh... spoiler!). Part of my problem is that not only do I not know if he doesn't want to be reminded of a painful memory, but there's also the possibility that it's too late to apologize (heh), or he may not even care anymore.

Maybe someday I'll say it. Or maybe I'll write an e-mail, saying I'm the stupid one. I don't deserve the slack but I hope you cut me some, and I hope that someday I can truly be deserving of the friendship that was offered to me, even when I was such an ass. Maybe this blog post is a step in that direction (should I send a link? Hah). I'm not sure, though, if I envy women for their ability to write pages and pages of apology letters to their friends! (Hey, I've received a few.)

Anyway. Maybe I can sweeten the deal with a classic English pudding. My dad, who doesn't usually like dessert, loved this, as did my grandmother, who couldn't get enough of the sauce that I became concerned there wouldn't be any left for everyone else! You can read my review of Claire Clark's Indulge at The Gastronomer's Bookshelf.

Sticky Toffee Pudding adapted from Indulge: 100 Perfect Desserts
Clark says that the chocolate in the toffee sauce takes the edge off the sweetness, and I agree. It doesn't make it in-your-face chocolatey but it gives it more of a dimension than "sugar" (though I love me some molasses). She recommends using Medjool dates if you can find them.

175g (6oz) dates, pitted and chopped

300g (1-1/4 cups) water

1 teaspoon baking soda

50g (3-1/2 tablespoons) softened unsalted butter

175g (1 cup minus 2 tablespoons) sugar

2 medium eggs, lightly beaten

175g (1-1/4 cups) all-purpose flour

2 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

Preheat the oven to 180°C (350°F). Spray 6 ramekins with baking spray (or grease with extra butter). In a medium saucepan, add the dates and the water. Bring to a boil and simmer for 4-5 minutes. Remove from the heat and stir in the baking soda (it will look kinda gross). Leave to cool slightly.

In a medium mixing bowl, cream the butter and sugar together until pale and fluffy. Add the eggs, beating well after adding each one. Stir in all the contents of the saucepan. Sift the flour, baking powder, and salt into a large mixing bowl and give it a whisk to combine. Pour the warm batter into the flour, whisking constantly as you do and making sure they are well-combined.

Divide the batter between the ramekins and bake for 12-15 minutes, or until well-risen and just firm to the touch. I managed to bake them for 25 minutes waiting for them to be firm, but it turns out I may have overbaked them. Meanwhile, make the sauce.

350g (1-1/2 cups) heavy cream

50g (1/4 cup packed) soft dark brown sugar

1 tablespoon molasses

25g (1oz) dark chocolate (70% cocoa solids), grated

In a small saucepan or skillet, bring the cream, sugar, and molasses to a boil over medium heat. Add the grated chocolate and stir until it's melted. Unmold the puddings and spoon the sauce over them.

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Tartine's Brownies

2009-05-29T00:33:00.006+08:00

I'm not too good at remembering my dreams. There are a few that stick out in my consciousness-- like my favorite one, where I am being chased by a dinosaur on ice, and I have my hockey skates on. It wasn't scary, the feeling was more like being on an amusement park ride, with obstacles. In some of my more boring dreams, I am driving and it's totally natural, not the stiff and nervous way I drive in real life. I had one bizarre dream where I got married to a friend of mine, and there's totally nothing there (unless my subconscious is telling me otherwise), but at the reception I start talking to her, quite worriedly, that we don't have any money to fulfill our dreams together. It seems that I have to wreck even my dreams with my real-life worries.

Some of my recurring dreams involve me sitting in a classroom, in a weird class which is an illogical mix of my classmates all the way from elementary school to medical school. Nothing happens, but there's chats about topics I don't remember. I've had the dream where I show up in school in my underpants (maybe my brain has a protective mechanism that prevents me from showing up naked, lest I die of night terrors). But I've never had a dream where I cook or eat something fantastic. Maybe my conscious mind is already tired of it.

However, there are those times when you see something on a display window and it looks totally dreamy, but it turns out to be a disappointment. Surrounded by hundreds of lovely confections (though I realize by now there are tons better), the brownies at Godiva chocolatiers do look fantastic, but one bite shatters the dream. Fine, it's acceptably chocolatey, but the bitter, soapy taste of chemical leaveners (baking powder most likely) destroys it.

Then there are those brownies you see at the display cases of grocery bakeries, which I once described to Duncan as those brownies that come to the United States with hopes of living the American Dream, before they fall by the wayside and get totally whored up with vile chocolatey vomit, M&Ms, sprinkles, Maltesers, icing, a plastic "Happy St. Patrick's Day!", and, weirdest of all, a mini-candy bar, still in its wrapper. The brownie pimp wins again. (Why I bought it, I don't know. Hunger?)

And look at the ingredients list. US Standards mandate that the ingredients be listed in order of decreasing weight, and of course sugar, oil, and corn syrup precede anything that has to do with chocolate. And I appreciate the effort, but I don't think the paprika (?!) added anything of value to this brownie.

The brownie recipe from the Tartine cookbook is the answer to all these brownie nightmares. It only has 5 main ingredients, and salt and vanilla. However, I didn't have the easiest time making these: I scaled the recipe down and cut the baking time. After cooling, I tried to take it out, and the top crust shattered, the insides still batter-y. Bake for 10 more minutes. Uncooked. Bake some more-- till I'd baked it the same time as a big one. Still uncooked. Bake some more, beyond what a large pan would take. Still uncooked. Dismayed, I threw the whole thing in the freezer. Lo and behold, it emerged from the ice as a brownie of undeniable decadence. It now looked and cut like a brownie, and all my extended family greedily gobbled it all up before Christmas dinner was even presented. They told me I couldn't leave for the States, otherwise who'd make the brownies again?

Tartine's Brownies from Tartine
Maybe I should start calling these the brownies you can't overbake. My only advice would be to cool it completely before attempting to cut, or take out of the pan. These brownies are just as awesome straight out of the fridge or freezer as they are at room temperature, so that may be a plus for you somehow.

170g (3/4 cup) unsalted butter

455g (1 pound) bittersweet chocolate, coarsely chopped

130g (1 cup minus 2 tablespoons) all purpose flour

5 large eggs

395g (2 cups) light brown sugar, lightly packed

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Preheat the oven to 175°C (350°F). Line a 9x13 glass baking dish with parchment.

In a small saucepan or a microwaveable bowl, melt the butter over low heat. Remove from the heat/microwave and stir in the chocolate. If it's not fully melted, return over low heat for 10 seconds or microwave on LOW power for 15 second-intervals, stirring in between, until it is melted. Cool completely.

In a medium mixing bowl, combine the eggs, sugar, salt, and vanilla. Beat on high speed for about 4-5 minutes, after which the batter will fall from the whisk in thick ribbons that slowly sinks into the surface. Fold the chocolate into the eggs with a rubber spatula. Sift the flour over the surface and fold in gently. Pour into the dish and smooth the top. Bake for 25 minutes (the top will slightly crack-- a cake tester won't be accurate for this one).

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San Francisco, Part 3 of Hopefully a Lot

2009-05-22T22:26:00.005+08:00

Not long ago I was talking about how difficult it is to really get bored, no matter where you are. If you can't vary the places you go to, you can vary your interests, vary your company (in this case, it changed from last year to mostly just me, without my mom and my brother), or vary your activities. And always, always (unless you never plan on coming back) leave something for next time. When it comes to San Francisco, you'd have to be a dead fish to finally run out of things to see or do, or you're just one of those people who don't like what San Francisco stands for. Above is a pic I snapped of the Caltrain terminal between Mission Bay and SoMa. (There's no logic in the optics of this one-- the lens blur was applied in post because my camera can't achieve depth of field well.)

I mean, just look at the cheeky shops you can see on Castro! Even the restaurants seem to have joined in on the fun. (That, or I'm just that filthy.) Under One Roof is a great shop filled with little gadgets for the home and furniture, and their proceeds benefit AIDS research.

Since I was in San Francisco for Saint Patrick's Day (AGAIN!), I was able to witness quite a bit of craziness. I chanced upon people participating in the pub crawl known as Brides of March, though I got confused by 1) lazy-ass college students wearing a white sheet as a toga (get a real wedding dress!) and 2) your garden-variety "Adam and Eve" protesters (see blurred sign in background). I had no idea what was going on at the time. Anyway, it reminded me of the movie The Bachelor, which incidentally was also filmed in San Francisco.

Online travel guides can also be a big help. This year I was able to start riding the bus, MUNI and bart systems (I should've last year, but that's what happens when you travel with family, sigh). A few blocks from the 24th Street and Mission bart station, you'll see an alley full of murals: some uplifting, some thought-provoking (some frightening).

I also got a better taste of the culture. As I really needed a drink, I stopped by Cafe Flore, also in the Castro district. I can't comment on the food as I didn't have any, but it is one of those very charming places where you can hang out alone (free Wi-Fi, w00t) or with friends. I really love this picture I took-- reminds me of the calmness and warmth of the quaint cafe.

The reason why I insisted on going to San Francisco during my interview period (even with all the other plane rides I had to take) was because I wanted to finally catch Allen, one of my favorite bloggers (and people as well, heh) before he left for Vancouver. He told me that I was exactly like how he'd imagined me, so make of that what you will. Grr. Dinner with Allen and Joe was so much fun and I felt like I'd known him for ages, like a (not much, heh) older brother. Also, they were super-cool and forgave a whopper of a faux pas I committed as we said our goodbyes, which is too embarrassing to share here. (Also, I wanted to spend time with my super-cute cousins, and I did end up babysitting for quite a while, so mission accomplished!)

Neither of us were actually staying in San Francisco, so we ate at La Boheme, which Allen probably suggested as he and nearly everyone who knows me knows, I want a good dessert. We had escargot on brioche toasts, which I think Allen ate for the first time. We also had sauteed scallops, and I had the caramel ginger glazed sea bass with honey-balsamic reduction. Which was utterly de. licious. For dessert, we had a Reine des Neige (white chocolate mousse with raspberries), millefeuilles fraise, and black and white chocolate mousse cake.

This was also the trip where I FINALLY got to eat at Tartine. I actually went twice! In contrast to Cafe Flore, Tartine was frantic, but still awesome in its own way. I had the Devil's Food Cake made with Valrhona (heaven) and a brioche bread pudding. The latter wasn't really to my taste: it seemed a little wet and eggy, whereas I like my bread pudding sweet and firm. Lisa is going to attempt this, so watch out for her blog post next week (and I hope you liked it more than I did)! As it was winter, the summer pastries were unfortunately not being made, except for the odd strawberry tart. However, you could still get desserts such as banana cream pie, coconut tart, lemon meringue cake, and of course, their huge quiches and tea cakes.

If you remember last year's post, I had dismissed Miette because I thought it was too plain and ordinary, and Jen quickly set me straight, but too late. This year I did try it, and man, was I ever wrong about skipping it. The gingerbread cupcake still lingers on in my memory as one of the best I've ever tasted (especially since I later tried to get gingerbread in New York, also in a famous bakery, which sucked!). Those who follow my tweets know that I still crave it, months later. That's strong stuff. If ever a cookbook comes out, I'm going to be first in line to get one.

Before I went to Tartine, I made it a point to go to what is reputed to be San Francisco's best ice cream-- Bi-Rite Creamery. It was sinfully delicious (and all I had was BANANA!), but it's hard to declare it definitively the best, because the US has a pretty fantastic track record when it comes to ice cream production. Anyway, I had banana because we don't have that flavor here. Even though we export tons of it. Apparently, it's just too common for people to crave in an ice cream?

I also met up with one of my favorite blogger/people (and don't just throw around the word "favorite", just so you know), Marvin, who was in town on business. (Not only do us male food bloggers have to stick together, but it goes double with Marvin because he's Filipino!) We went to L'Osteria del Forno, located on San Francisco's North Beach, of course. It's among the 100 must-try restaurants in San Francisco. He had the Pizza San Francisco (ham and artichoke hearts, yum!) and I had the Gamberi Adriatic style.

After that, we talked about life and allergies over some pretty tame gelato flavors (okay, we're wimps! But I did try the cactus pear, among others. Tastes like pear) at Naia.

With my extended family, we ate at tons of places, but this particular dish at El Toro Loco, a Mexican/ Peruvian restaurant on Pacifica, stood out for me: it's mussels with a relish of sweet corn, pepper, and tomatoes. Awesome.

My aunt (cousin to you Americans) knew I loved food, so she was stressing out over what restaurant she should take me to impress. All her office mates said Burma Superstar, and they made absolutely the right choice. (You just can't go wrong with Southeast Asian food, can you? ;) We had the tea leaf salad (which you can sea being mixed above), Nan Gyi Dok, Burmese Samusas, and something that's bound to be one of my favorite dishes of all time: Fiery Chicken with Tofu. Check out that glorious, steaming pic! I want to have it right now! Drool.

After lunch, we headed to Schubert's Bakery, where the display case seemed to have warped in from the eighties, but the cakes are no less delicious. I had a princess cake (oh, shut up, I've never had one), which I thoroughly enjoyed. Each bite I took had to have a bit of whipped cream, jam, cake, and marzipan!

Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed this re-visitation of San Francisco as much as I have (though it has made me considerably hungrier). But it's not over yet! There's a Part 4 still to come (maybe next month)! Plus, still some New York and New Jersey!

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