Scarily wrong

Don't try this at home.

Contrary to my typical pats on the back (confidence not arrogance mind you) I had a recent humbling experience with some Halloween spook-tastic cupcakes I made. While they did fit the bill ‘theme-wise’ (the spiders were my favourite) they were really unappealing on the palette. I’m not sure if proper etiquette kept friends from saying as much but whereas typically there are fights over the last cakes and even crumbs – many of these sad little monsters got binned in the end. Unfortunate times, I know.

You see, where I went wrong is that I was trying to make fabulous autumnal – inspired cakes (spiced pumpkin with an orange cream cheese frosting) but also hoping to decorate them with brightly coloured sugar and sweets ala Halloween.

What I didn’t realise is that my skills in decorating (ok not the best YET) would actually distract me from actually tasting what I was making. I was so giddy to start decorating the cupcakes that in fact I wasn’t too fussed about what they tasted like – until later when I did.

I think the lesson learned is that for the most part grown-ups (and as much as I try not to put myself in this category, I am) don’t necessarily need their cakes decorated with lots of EXTRA sugar and sweets. That said, with any kids around I still think it’s a fun thing to do. Honestly, I had more fun cutting up those liquorice legs than I have for a while (sad state of affairs, I won’t disagree)! It was just so much fun to PLAY with my food. It’s severely underrated. I think my advice for next time though would to just stick with a basic tried and tested cupcake recipe.

Apple Peeping

No matter the time of year or where you are you can always find a sturdy apple in your local grocery store. Like the stylist who’s been cutting your hair forever, it can sometimes be easy to take her for granted. She’s always been around and you can count on her when you need her to work through the “edgy mullet” you got while vacationing in Spain - so what’s the big whoop-dee-doo right? Not quite. Clearly you need to keep the relationship in line with a bit of repeat contact, TLC, and good tipping. With apples, it’s sort of the same thing. They also need some special love now and again – maybe in the form of a lattice topped cheddar apple pie or stuffed inside a pork loin with ginger and herbs. And really, there’s no better time to do so than in the autumn months.

It’s true - I do enjoy apples year round, but the fact is they do have special moments and they don’t sing any louder than during this ‘leaf peeping’ time of year. Something in the crunch of leaves underfoot must be music to their ears.

Since my favourite varieties, Macoun and McIntosh are not to be found in the UK (a moment of silence whilst I shed a tear please) I’ve been making do with a number of different varieties. My current favourite at the moment I’m embarrassed to admit actually isn’t native to old Blighty either, but the Kiwi imported Jazz. I realise I need to get out more and sample the vast selection of home-grown varieties. Alas, my farmer’s market tours have been a bit sparse of late due to weekend jaunts to the Continent over the past month.

Still, realising 'tis my favourite season for apples, last Sunday had me cooking pancakes with a mapple* compote and toasted pecans. I used my old standby, the Granny Smith, needing their tartness to balance out the sweetness of the maple syrup**.

Buttermilk Pancakes with a Mapple - Pecan Compote (serves 2)

Pancakes:

I used a standard buttermilk pancake recipe, but doctored it as such:

1/2 teaspoon lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 cup cottage cheese (which if you've read my earlier blog on pancakes you'll remember is the secret ingredient for fluffy pancakes)

Compote:

2 Granny Smith or Braeburn apples (peeled and cut into 1 inch pieces)
1 Tbsp butter
2 Tbsp maple syrup
1 tsp cinnamon
1/3 cup pecans - finely chopped***


1. Melt butter in a small sauce pan over medium heat
2. Add apples, maple syrup, cinnamon - stir until apples are soft and cooked through (about 15 minutes)
3. While the apples are cooking, toast the pecans in a warm oven of 150oC, for about 10 minutes stirring occasionally


* Maple + Apple
** Pure and from New Hampshire (for aficionados of maple syrup this distinction of 'pure' is critical to the entire dish)
***Use a small mini chopper to get the pecans fine, why?
1. It takes up no space on the counter and saves a mess by avoiding you having to pull out and then clean your massive food processer
2. The pancakes and compote need the pecans (I don't know why but they seem to make a world of difference)

Happy Happy Birthdays

You'd think you would reach a point where birthdays just don’t have the same effect as when you were 6 (first of many cabbage patch kids), 13 (lots of 'wet n wild' makeup and a Guns N Roses CD), 21 (21 shots and very nearly a bowling jacket - no comments from those lovely friends who were in attendance please) or even 25 (my first 'first class' flight and a move over to London for Graduate School). The excitement and pizzazz of (ahem) post 30 just shouldn't have the same 'wow' factor. Luckily for me, I refuse to grow up - and my birthdays just keep getting better.

Friday, September 25th saw me ushering 14 of my closest girlfriends over to mine for a "quiet girly night in", complete with too many desserts, pizza from Firezza, lots of bubbles, and the extraordinarily bizarre Leon - Tarot Reader Extraordinaire.

Thinking it might be fun to have a tarot reader as some light entertainment, never in all my years could I have expected what rocked up that night. With a 'do that was hiding a nest of small animals and a lisp, Leon was quite simply pure comedic entertainment.

For some of my friends, the whole tarot concept went over a bit better (e.g. those that were informed of fortunes they'd soon be receiving). Others, like the lovely JW, was told she'd be getting her heart broken not once, but twice - and soon!

I thought I was certainly due a great reading (it was my birthday after all - the stars must be aligned somewhere). However, even with three shufflings of the decks - the most 'insightful' (insert sarcastic tone here) comment I got was his commentary about me "trying to do everything at one" (fair enough - probably true). However, it was poetically worded like this:

"Here, there, everywhere...Dana, you're like a fart in the air."

Yeppers, I was actually called a 'fart' on my birthday. I won't lie, I nearly wet myself laughing.

This comment was only trumped later in the night with Leon offered to hook me up with a possible gig working for Alice Cooper. He had a friend who performed on stage with him - "dancing around like Britney Spears and pretending to decapitate Alice.” She was looking for a replacement - was I interested? I honestly couldn't have scripted this stuff any better.

So, with entertainment a success - so too was the food. The sweets (we'll get to these in a minute folks) were balanced out with delicious thin crust pizza and a homemade salad of French lentils, goat’s cheese, and roasted butternut squash. Drizzled with fig balsamic glaze and truffle oil - it's my new favourite fall salad - a fricken unbelievable combo.

Deserts were a power combo; a Blitz Torte (meringue, vanilla, and pecan cake layers surrounded by fresh whipped cream and strawberries) and Salted Carmel Chocolate Cupcakes.

Clearly I'm on a salted caramel kick (last month making an ice cream version). These cupcakes are my new special occasion favourites though. There's a bit of an effort in making the salted caramel separately and carving out little holes in the baked cupcakes to fill them with it. Although it's an even bigger effort when the first batch you make accidentally doesn't have any sugar in them (I've learned baking and wine drinking do not mix particularly well).

Luckily, this “carving out” process to make room for the salted caramel requires you to throw out 18 mini bites of chocolate cupcake. And clearly, when recipe calls for “throwing out” – they mean, pour some milk (or more wine) and consume.

A bite of ... home

I spent late August and early September in the beautiful New England sunshine. Contrary to last summer the rain was at bay for most of my stay. I had a fill of my favourites – lobster from “the lobster connection,” “fried duck” from the local Thai place next to the high school, cocktails with my two favourite ladies, Dr. B and SU- C, and an assortment of Audrey treats.

On my end I did a little less cooking than normal due to dinner plans out with family and friends. However, I managed to make Audrey's favourite Rhubarb Cake from Yellow Bistro in Sydney, grill some delicious peaches with feta, blood orange vinegar, and candied bacon and a few other miscellaneous treats. Even though those peaches with the feta and candied bacon were legendary, it was the sexy salted caramel ice cream I made, which warrants it's own laud.

Now, realise – I don’t even really like ice cream. If I was captain of the dodge ball team and I had to pick players, cake, blueberry pie, even fruit salad would be first choices. I’ve always liked ice cream in small doses – and as an accoutrement to the star player – but never in the leading role. I know, I’m weird.

The salted caramel ice cream was one of the creamiest ice creams I’ve ever come across and while “salted caramel” may put a few people off, it was nothing less than divine. It wooed. It tempted. It literally begged to be eaten. When the spoon was placed in the mouth the eyes instantaneously closed, breathing slowed down and there were no distractions at all. Just like a “calgon, take me away" moment. Only better.

Strawberry Jam Cakes

It took an “English Garden Summer Party” theme at last month’s Guilty Pleasures to get me thinking about ‘cupcakes’ a bit differently. Always one to bring a new signature cupcake to the monthly gig – I felt this was an opportune time to bake alongside the theme. That said, “English Garden Summer Party” brought up images of croquet, linen, strawberries and cream and Victoria sponge – the last two of which while inspirational, are not exactly cupcake friendly. Leave it to the domesticated goddess and former tax invader Martha Stewart to come up with the perfect solution for me.

These little mini cakes wooed both the Dream Bears and SpandXXX, didn’t wilt in the July ‘heat’, and have been lovingly added to my permanent collection. I honestly can't remember the last time I swooned over something that's come out of my oven, quite as much as these cakes.

With their dose of strawberry jam (or whichever your preference) hidden in the middle these are nuggets of pure gold. Even better, without a typical cupcake frosting (ala buttercream or cream cheese) one can (and did) justify eating them for breakfast, mid-day snack, and dessert.

swine shwine...

It really is on the tips of everyone’s tongues. Long lost are excuses based on allergies and hay fever. The common cold has gone by the wayside like obvious excessive consumption. In its place, with every sniffle, cough and tissue are looks that could peel paint. I’ll admit I’ve perpetuated this problem. Stick me next to someone on the Tube with even a slight sniffle and I physically turn my body and even give a bit of an eye raise glare too. My antibacterial gel is my new accessory of choice. This was all well and good until I was the one sitting at work last Monday thinking:

11:00 am: “Dang, my allergies are really bad today. I’m feeling quite congested.”

12:00 pm: “Hmmm, I’ve a bit of a tickle in my throat...that’s just symptomatic of being STARVING. What’s for lunch?”

2:00 pm: “Hmmm, my allergies don’t really ever give me a sore throat. Must be some new cleaning product they have introduced to the office.”

4:00 pm: “Cough. Cough. Cough. Achoo. Cough. Cough. Cough. I feel like a dumpster garbage truck. How am I getting home on the Tube without people taking me out?”

One week later I’m still quarantined in my flat - having been sent home from work. My pleas of "I'm REALLY fine" made no difference to those who really didn't want to be sat near a coughing sneezing mess. Still, I’ve made it out a fair bit (nothing short of bringing Miss Candi Cupcakes out for a performance at Koko) – and even snuck into the office three days last week. Still, I've been “that person”. The one with the embarrassingly red nose, the one that was interviewing for a new project and had to say “sorry, probably best if I don’t shake your hand” , the one who has sworn over and over that “it’s not swine flu – if it was... certainly I’d have a fever and upset tummy (I didn’t) and wouldn’t have an appetite (I did).”

Lucky for me, in the midst of all of this I received my first ever “Organic Fruit and Veg” box from Abel and Cole. Technically for 1 person– forget about your '5 a day' – it was more like '12 a day'. There were so many carrots, potatoes, broad beans and zucchini I couldn’t even begin to think of what I was going to do with them. Throw in a massive head of cabbage and I was at a loss. Considering this was all just about when the cold was kicking off – I figured that a batch of vegetable and bean soup would work nicely.

Clearly with so many veggies to try and use up (and I only used about 2/3) my measurements were a bit off...and needless to say what was meant to be about 3-4 servings of veggie soup turned into 12.

I now say – swine flu – come if you must! My freezer is chock full with enough soup to get me (and my flatmate - she's having some for dinner tonight as she thinks she's coming down with whatever I have too) through a round of it...or really bad "allergies"...whatever comes first!

Relais de Venise L’Entrecôte

It really was the making of a Hollywood romcom. Three friends sitting around a table discussing life, debating love, eating good food and drinking wine. A pact was made – signed in (well, a secret steak sauce...naturally) with promises to return back to the same restaurant 12 months later. What would change in a year? Would relationships, psyches and work still be the same? What would they be proud (or maybe not so proud of)?

Fast forward to last Sunday, 12 months to the day. Not exactly all the drama that a Hollywood studio would have crammed into 90 minutes (which would have resulted in friend A dating friend B and friend C ending up gay)– but lots of real life none-the-less.

A few dating stories for the ages, one new love, a fair bit of sharing, a touch of smuttiness, about 30 pounds lost, a near battle with tears, a ‘professional’ dancer, and more promises for another check-in – in 12 more months.

Clearly the venue needed to be consistent - Relais de Venise L’Entrecôte. Perfect in its simplicity (I don't believe they even have a menu) and with locations in London, Paris, New York, and Barcelona, the restaurant does one thing – and one thing only. Thankfully it does it well - steak, salad, and frites accompanied by their secret sauce (which I’ve deconstructed to be about 75% butter, a bit of pesto, and a couple other special ingredients). Oh, and please don’t ask for your steak medium-rare (imposseeblah)! It is served rare or it is served medium. No maybes. No ifs. And certainly no in-betweens. It really is the perfect spot for the indecisive.

Keeping with our not-so-healthy theme of the evening we headed back to C’s flat for some home-made coconut strawberry cheesecake and a bit more gossip. Not usually a cheesecake fan, it had been a special request from B – having recently celebrated a 29th birthday. However, I impressively polished off more than B and C combined (somewhat atypical ) but again – may have been the boozy mango vodka I added into the mixture....a delicious addition I must admit!