On Turning 24 and the ensuing chaos

Last Christmas, I turned 24.

Yes, you read right. My birthday falls on the most joyful day of the year. But I do not know if receiving only one present per year instead of two is so joyful after all. J is the only one who gives me a mid-year present to compensate for it. (Does it take that many guesses to find out why I stay with him?)

But seriously. Because I had more than my fair share of baking to do this Christmas---mostly for the party at J's parents house on Boxing Day---I decided that the French buche de noel, the December Challenge for Daring Bakers, can multi-task as my birthday cake.

I was really looking forward to this challenge, and decided on the following component to complement the warm Australian Christmas:

-Coconut dacquoise
-Mango mousse
-Cinnamon and vanilla creme brulee
-Coconut crisp insert
-Cinnamon-milk ganache insert
-White chocolate icing

Everything went well until the day I took the log out of the mold to glaze. First, the icing quantity specified in the recipe proved too little to sufficiently cover the log. So, being a smartass, I made another batch and though: It should be fine if I cover it with another layer. Well, guess not.


My icing got too heavy and slipped down the sides of the cake. So in the end I had to trim off the icing on the sides with a palette knife and cover the whole thing in dessicated coconut to mask its ugliness. Oh, but wait, there's more.

While I was defrosting my log, I noticed that the mango mousse started to resemble a very runny mango custard, and was behaving in the same way. When I lifted it up, the upper half started to slide around a bit, and right then I knew that I should have gone out to buy some gold-strength gelatin leaves instead of being so cocksure that titanium-strength ones would do the same job. So, long story short: I ended up serving mango goo to people at Christmas. Thank God family (and boyfriend) do not judge.


This month's challenge is brought to us by the adventurous Hilda from Saffron and Blueberry and Marion from Il en Faut Peu Pour Etre Heureux.
They have chosen a French Yule Log by Flore from Florilege Gourmand

A late pre-Christmas Caramel Cake and some thoughts

So it's finally over...my two years of studies culminated in a presentation and a final hand-in earlier today. And I am free. But what awaits ahead, I wonder? I don't know. No clear path seems to be presented to me. It is definitely time to look for a full-time career, but am I, with my bird bones and 5 foot 1 frame, cut out for the long hours, physical strain and stress that working in a kitchen presents? But if not, what career path do I pursue? I cannot imagine myself working too far away from food---I love it so much, too much to stay away from it.

Pondering the fore-mentioned thoughts lead to another. During my spare time (which recently has been, well, spare), I ponder about the people, food, and places. More specifically, about why people get so emotional when it comes to food. How many times have you been upset when your dessert came out not less stellar than its description on the menu? And how many more when you were made to wait a little longer than expected for your meal?

I had the fortunate experience of tasting fresh walnuts at the market yesterday. J insists that I pair it with some gorgeous, plump raisins that we bought at the same stall. The first bite, and I knew I found a new addiction. The walnuts were unlike the anything I have ever tasted. I popped one into my mouth, instinctively waiting for that bitterness that was always present in all that I have tasted thus far. But nothing came. Just the smooth, subtle taste of the nut.

Why am I suddenly talking about things that has nothing to do with my Caramel Cake post, you ask? Because working in the industry has led to an observation that people get very personal when it comes to food. I have the fortune of not having to work Christmas this year or last year. But considering how many restaurants are open, I can't help but wonder: How much thought do people give to the food that is served to them at a restaurant/hotel/cafe? How much thought do they give into the preparation that took hours to complete, the hours of labour, the injuries and physical and mental stress that take place in a commercial kitchen? How much thought do they give to the people who will cook and serve them, and probably hundreds other, their food on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day? Do they ever think, if even for the slightest moment, that some people had to sacrifice being with their families on that one special day just so they could eat out? I am aware that there is a whole other side to it: people who would say that eating out at a certain restaurant on Christmas Day has been a ritual for the family for 30 years, and that I have no right to judge, etc. etc. But please, I am not looking for a fight. Merely a discussion, and a sanctuary where I can let my thoughts loose. I am by no means condemning you for eating out on Christmas Day, gee, I personally have done that so many times.

Being a chef is, in a way, a thankless job. We slave away days and hours making food for people we do not know and do not meet. (Unless you are the owner or head chef of a restaurant, in which case you probably no longer cook as much.) Your sighs of appreciation and moans of pleasure do not reach our ears unless you send your compliments by virtue of a front of house staff. And that is rare. They usually never leave your table, and are reserved for the ears of friends and acquaintances.

So what pleasures does being a chef brings? Certainly not the long hours, low pay or lack of recognition. I suppose the feeling that you have given a part of yourself to create something that you can share with others. And to work so closely with all the things that you are passionate about---the best fresh ingredients, the merging of flavours, the beautiful art that lies on a plate....I think that personal gratification is as important, if not more so, than recognition and acknowlegdement.

So, if you are still with me, I will finally resume normal mode and actually write about the November Daring Bakers' Caramel Cake. The cake, I think, was amazing, even though I made my caramel syrup lighter than suggested. The frosting, though, was so tooth-achingly sweet I cringed at the first bite. Yes, a sugar fiend like me. Can you imagine? Though to its credit (and Shuna's), it was one of the best frostings I have ever worked with. I spread it, chill it for a couple of minutes, and smooth it---and I get the perfect, smooth frosting! I had to discard some of the frosting because one layer of cake broke on me and I was adamant that I have the perfect cake this time. So I ended up with less and had to compromise on using whipped cream for the side. I also added some red currants to introduce some tartness to the cake. I only noticed how Christmas-sy the whole cake looked after I was done, so I decided that I would call this my pre-Christmas Caramel Cake.

Thank you Shuna of Eggbeater for the caramel cake recipe, and Alex, Dolores and Jenny for hosting this month's challenge. And if any of your are interested in making the cake, you can find the recipe here.

Daring Bakers Challenge...postponed

So, yes. I know what date it is today. I had the cake baked up yesterday to be decorated, photographed and blogged today. Until last night. The following conversation took place between me and my 'little' sister after I came home from work last night.

Sis: Hey, can you bake me some cupcakes tomorrow?

Me: Err...I kind of have another cake to finish up tomorrow.

Sis: But it's my 21st birthday!!

------Silence-------

Me: Your birthday isn't until next week!

Sis: Yes, but I'm celebrating it tomorrow because some of my friends have plans to go overseas next week.

Me: Ok, what kind of cupcake would you like?

Sis: (Showed me a photo of a mini woodland scene atop a cupcake) Can you do 21 of these?


So in the end, blood is thicker than water and I had to acquiesce. I emailed Lisa to tell her that some last minute things have cropped up, and therefore I will have to postpone my posting for this month's caramel cake until next week. Those who thought that I was going to completely skip the challenge should take a second look at the name of my blog!! So be back next week and I'll have my cake up here.

Oh, in the end we negotiated and settled for butterflies perched on top of the cupcake.

Cake masquerading as bread, and spread acting like ice cream

Ahem.. I did not realise how fast time flies these days. I know that I promised you all that I will post more frequently after I come back from my vacation, and even made a pact with Mallory to sacrifice sleep for blog. So far, I think she's the only one who's kept to that oath.

But my new job is zapping up my energy and my time in the ways that a mini cake-producing nuclear power plant would these days. And to all of you who are pondering about the reality behind cake shop/wholesale/catering vs. restaurant work, let me tell you something. Working in a cake shop which multi-task as a wholesaler/caterer is not as stress-less as you think it is. Wait, maybe I was the only one who thought so.


But enough about me. One of the reasons I staged a comeback sooner than I thought I would was due to the fact that 3 nudges were sent my way, a couple of days apart from each other, from 3 fellow bloggers whose blogs and creations I hold in the highest regard. Y , Helen, Mallory, thank you!! I know it sounds rather silly, but your emails make me really happy. It's really good to know that my absence is felt among visitors of my blog, so thank you!!

So we can now move on to the real treat. Aran of Cannelle et Vanille did a post on brioche some time last week. One look at her photos and I was smitten!! Her brioche looked simple, comforting, and delectable; in other words, perfect!! Her post happened to coincide with the day off I was having the day after, so I immediately lunged at the chance to make a loaf for myself. I had made a batch of peanut butter ice cream a few days before, so I decided to make an ice cream brioche sandwich as an afternoon treat. But it turns out that the aroma emanating from the oven was too much for J and my brother. They could not even wait until the brioche has cooled down a little bit before launching attacks from both sides of the loaf. As for me, I got to have a couple of slices, and a couple more to photograph with for the sake of this post, before they ate all of it. (Yes, they got to the ones in the photo too. They could barely wait 'til I finished photographing.)



Peanut Butter Ice Cream with chocolate chips

1 litre milk
200g sugar
50g glucose
150g egg yolk
100g peanut butter
50g good quality dark chocolate, chopped


Combine milk, glucose and half the sugar in a saucepan, and heat to boil. Stir occassionally to prevent the mixture from burning. Whisk egg yolk and the remaining sugar together until pale. Pour boiling milk mixture into the yolk/sugar mixture while whisking. Pour back the anglaise mixture into the saucepan and reheat until the thermometer registers 81 degree Celsius. As this recipe does not contain cream, the anglaise will not thicken enough to coat the back of a wooden spoon, so trust your thermometer. Add peanut butter, whisk to combine and chill before churning in an ice cream maker. Each ice cream maker is different, but the approximate time needed on mine is about 20 minutes. Always keep in mind that due to the absence of cream, this ice cream will not turn out as thickly as normal ice cream. About 2 minutes before the ice cream finishes churning, add the chopped dark chocolate.

A Cameo Appearance by...

To be honest, I was a little scared when I read what the challenge for this month was. Just a little.

Well, I mean, I've made pizza dough before, but have never used the 'toss' method. This method is a nightmare for a control freak like me. Thankfully, I have help on hand. A veteran pizza maker who also happens to be yours truly's boyfriend. Isn't that convenient? The challenge suddenly turned from something daunting to something I was looking forward to.


I just hope Rosa doesn't mind the help I was getting. Not that I didn't try, but the photos of him tossing the dough turned out much, much better. Seriously. The photos he took of me tossing the dough turned out so tragic I would have to implore you to spare me from putting it up on a public domain such as this.

So, moving on to the more important topic of toppings and sauces. I decided on a sweet pizza, despite J's protests. I decided that since we are going into summer (actually today feels more like early, early spring), I might as well do something light and easy. Fruits immediately came to mind. But not just any fruits. I specifically wanted tropical fruits. Blame it on my recent trip back home. I wanted to recapture all the flavours of the tropics in this pizza.


So I decided on a pineapple 'carpaccio' pizza topped with rockmelon, mango and watermelon brunoise, with a drizzle of pine nuts-mint herb oil and a garnish of mint julienne. You don't have to tell me that it sounded doubtful; believe me, I know. But despite all, I decided to go along with this combination.

It actually did not taste bad at all. But there is definitely room for improvement. Like not overbaking the pizza crust, resulting in a hard shell with a slight bitter taste. Or adding more pine nuts-mint herb oil. Or caramelising the pineapple 'carpaccio' before putting them on the crust. Or using a fruit compote rather than herb oil to impart more sweetness to the pizza.

But overall, I'm pretty happy with this first attempt. All that's left is to play around with the component to get the best possible result. After all, that's what being a DB is all about, no?

A big thank you to Rosa for choosing this month's theme and recipe; J thought it made a really, really good pizza dough, and even asked if I could print him a copy to take home!

Memories from the Island of the Gods

It has been a week since I got back. Why no blogging, then, you ask. Three reasons. One, I fell ill towards the end of my vacation, and haven't completely recovered. Second, I wish I did not have to come back. The third is one of my strongest vices which I will keep under shrouds until the next post.

But going back to the second point. As you probably know from my last post, I mentioned that I will be squeezing in a trip to Bali during my short holiday. I did. And now I can't think of wanting to live anywhere else.



All right, I do exaggerate. But seriously now. Bali is known as the Island of the Gods. And I can't think of a more apt description. My previous memories of the island were too far away to make more than a hazy imprint of its beauty. I must have been no more than 13 the last time I visited Bali. It did not take me long, however, to be completely smitten by the place. I truly felt the elusive charm that had enticed so many Western expatriates to call it their second home.




We stayed at Tanjong Benoa, at a hotel where service was well above and beyond inspiring. We visited the popular restaurant/cafe/shopping strip Seminyak, home to the famous Ku De Ta. We had dinner at Kafe Warisan, which French chef/owner Nicolas Tourneville carefully nurtured over the past eleven years from a 10-table restaurant to a world-renowned establishment. We had the best Nasi Campur at one of the more modest restaurants I have been to. But the jewel that shines above i all is Ubud, a magical town far away from the overcrowded and overheated beaches.


Ubud is nestled among the hills of Bali, which made its climate substantially cooler than the more popular becahside destinations. Over the years, I have heard much of Ubud, so I realise that I am not what one would consider a pioneer luxury traveller. There is something about Ubud, an intangible charm that you could associate with the comforting respite that many spend their lifetimes searching for but few were lucky enough to find. From the shady foliage of Puri Saren, the thriving arts and crafts scene, to the magnificent rice fields and the bustling yet serene sights of the shopping strip of Jalan Monkey Forest, Ubud was more than what I had in mind.


As luck would have it, the village temple also held its annual odalan, or temple birthday, on the very day that we chose to visit. That means visitors are treated to the captivating sight of numerous processions of local women carrying pyramid towers of sesajen, or offerings, on their heads to their village temple basked in the light of the golden setting sun.

And then it was gone. I never knew that 4 days and 3 nights could feel so short. Bali was like a much cherished lover lost much too soon, leaving one with only memories and a bittersweet longing of a time when one can really believe that the world is truly a beautiful place to live in.


P.S. I did not get the chance to take snapshots of the odalan procession, mainly because the setting sun made it very difficult to see and manually focus my camera, and we were rushing to beat the traffic to Denpasar. I wished I had taken many more photos of all the beautiful sights that I have seen, but I'm more for living those moments than trying to capture each and everyone of them on memories that only my compact 2 GB card could remember.

Off....

I'm sorry. I started this blog with the most sincere intentions to indulge my favourite pastimes of baking, photography and writing. But life---read: assignments, tests, work, a recent pastry job interview and trial (Aran, I can finally work in a pastry kitchen again! Thank you for your support and encouragements!), plus an exhaustive application process to get my pastry qualifications recognised by Trades Recognition Australia---got in the way.

I actually have a few posts lined up; I just have not had the time to upload the photos onto my computer. I know, I know; you are sick of my constant laments about how little time I have to blog. But this time there's a major factor contributing to a total lack of time: I'm going on vacation.

Yes. To the lands of eternal summers--- Singapore, then Jakarta, then Bali, then Jakarta again and finally back to Melbourne. It actually doesn't sound so great when you know that it's about the hottest time of the year, and temperatures don't go below 35 degrees Centigrade. Oh, and did I mention the above 80% humidity at all times of the day?

I am flying in less than 10 hours' time. And no, I haven't packed anything. I just got home from buying some last minute gifts, so I'm off to pack them now with the rest of my summer wardrobe. So I will ask you to please forgive me once more. I badly want to blog from my family home in Jakarta, but the internet is really powered by a snail on a hamster wheel. Meaning I can't really upload any photos for my blog posts.

So I bid you adieu. I promise to visit all of you in your virtual homes and leave comments as often as I can, but otherwise, I will be back full force on 13 October. In the meantime, I'll be sure to take tons of photos to "catch up on posting when I return. So see you then!!