Goose. Cabbage. Carrots. Stuffing. Potatoes. Corn. Ham. Gravy. Tiramisu. Oh my god, I feel sick all over again. Which is probably why it’s taken me two weeks to muster up the strength to look at the photos I took of the food (whilst slowly working my way through the leftovers) so that I could do up this post. But boy was that a meal to write home about. :) One guest at our dinner of Christmas orphans, D, even dubbed our apartment The Goose & Cabbage and proceeded to draw a sign for our gastropub. (PS: D – Don’t kill me, I love that picture to bits!)

I’ve always wanted a Christmas dinner with a gigantic roast bird, but the size of my flat (and, therefore, the respective sizes of my dinner table – seats 6, tops – and my tiny, tiny oven) meant that roasting a turkey was pretty much out of the question. Which wasn’t an issue, since I’m not the biggest fan of turkey anyway. Chickens didn’t seem festive or special enough, which is how I landed up with a 6kg goose stuffed in the bottom of my fridge on the 23rd of last month.

That got roasted with a blend of fresh citrus zests and spices, glazed with a little extra marmalade and honey mid-way through the cooking process, and once I had decided on that, I got to thinking about the more interesting tasks: the sides. To me, big meals centering around a roast (be it a prime rib, chicken, turkey, or goose like in this case) are more about the sides than the main event. Potatoes roasted in goose fat were a no-brainer, and I picked two more veggie sides (creamed corn with parmesan and nutmeg, and savoy cabbage shredded and sautéed in more goose fat and scented with rosemary and minced garlic), outsourced the glazing of a ham to E, and then set about thoroughly researching stuffing (or, if you’re gonna be a pedant, dressing, since I didn’t actually stuff it in the bird’s cavity) recipes.

And boy was that stuffing my downfall. I barely managed to finish one small helping of the actual goose, delicious as it was, ‘cos I couldn’t help going back for seconds and thirds and fourths! of stuffing. Juicy, well-seasoned sausagemeat, toasted pine nuts, garlic ciabatta croutons, packed together with loads of herbs into a well-buttered dish and baked to juicy perfection. But I’m glad I made tonnes of it, ‘cos it made a delicious breakfast hash or two with the leftover roast potatoes, and topped with a fried egg.

Stuffing and Roast Potato Breakfast Hash
1 cup sausage stuffing (see recipe below)
1 cup leftover roast potatoes
3 tsp goose fat, divided
2 eggs
salt and pepper

Roughly chop the stuffing and potatoes. In a cast iron pan (or another heavy based sauté pan), heat 1 tsp of the goose fat over high heat. Add the potatoes, and cook, stirring gently, until sizzling hot and starting to crisp up again around the edges, about 6-8 minutes.

Lower the heat to medium and add the stuffing, stirring gently until completely heated through.

Fry each egg in 1 tsp of the remaining goose fat in a nonstick pan to your liking – I personally think a very runny yolk makes a delicious sauce for the hash. Divide the hash between two warmed plates, and top each with an egg. Season the eggs with a sprinkle of flaky sea salt and a few twists of the pepper mill, and serve immediately.

Yield: Serves 2

Sausage, Sage and Pinenut Stuffing
2 cloves garlic, microplaned (divided)
1/3 loaf bread, torn into 1/2 inch dice (I used ciabatta, but I think brioche would work wonderfully too)
2 tbsp butter, plus extra for greasing
2 shallots, finely chopped
1 stalk celery/leek, finely chopped
500g sausage meat (I used sage sausages, but any fresh sausages you normally like would work well here)
large bunch of fresh sage, minced
slightly under 1 cup chicken broth
1 egg
small handful of flat-leaf parsley, minced
100g pine nuts, toasted
salt and pepper
olive oil

Preheat oven to 160ºC. Combine 1 tbsp of the microplaned garlic with 2 tbsp of olive oil, and mix well. Toss the bread pieces with the garlic and oil, season lightly with salt and toast in the preheated oven until golden brown, rotating the pan and tossing the croutons to toast evenly, about 15-20 minutes. (Can be prepared a day in advance and stored, once cool, in an airtight container.)

Turn the oven up to 180ºC. Melt the butter in a large, heavy-based pan over medium-low heat. Add the shallots, the rest of the garlic, and leek, and gently sweat until softened, about 5 minutes. You don’t want the vegetables to brown too much. Remove from the pan and set aside.

Turn the heat up to medium, and add about 1-2 tsp more of olive oil to the same pan. Tip the sausage meat and the minced sage into the pan. Using a wooden spoon, break up all of the sausage meat and stir well so that there are no large clumps remaining – the largest pieces should be no bigger than 1/2cm or so. Continue to stir and cook until about 75% of the meat is no longer pink, about 8-10 minutes. Add the reserved vegetables and half the chicken stock to the pan, then remove from heat.

Whisk the remaining stock, the egg, and the minced parsley (about 2 tbsp) together, and add this to the sausage mixture, stirring continuously. Season with a little more salt (you shouldn’t need too much since the sausages are already seasoned), and very generously with black pepper. Gently fold the croutons and pine nuts in.

Transfer to an appropriately sized, buttered baking dish, cover tightly with aluminum foil, and bake until the centre of the stuffing registers 66ºC on an instant-read thermometer, about 45 minutes. (The stuffing can be prepared until this stage a day in advance, then cooled and kept refrigerated. Just bring it to room temperature before the next step.)

Uncover and continue to bake until golden brown and crispy on top, about 15-20 more minutes. Serve warm.

Yield: Makes enough to serve 6 with leftovers (about a 9″ square cake pan’s worth)

Yesterday, 8th March, was Shrove Tuesday, or – more commonly known in our all-inclusive society today – Pancake Day. Pancake Day isn’t that commonly celebrated outside the western world, but for those of you in Asia who may have heard about it but don’t know where it comes from, Shrove Tuesday is the day before Lent, where Christians and Catholics historically practice abstinence in the period leading up to Easter. Since rich foods like eggs, fat, sugar, and dairy (or food containing them) are some common items that practicing households might give up, pancakes were an easy way to use up these perishable items before the abstinence began.

About a week ago, I had a gluten-free cook-date with a friend of mine who’s mildly gluten intolerant. One of the recipes I tried out was this one for Gluten Free Buckwheat Pancakes from Wrightfood. These buckwheat pancakes are so freaking delicious, I’ve pretty much abandoned all hope of ever making any other pancake in my (very much gluten-loving) household. As much as I love pancakes, and as fluffy and lovely as the pancakes I get from my usual go-to recipe are, they tend to run a little plain, and pancakes are just a slightly more texturally interesting version of toast in my Sunday brunches. These, on the other hand, have a lovely nutty and slightly savoury flavour. They go equally well with a lightly spiced chutney, good marmalade, or the classic butter-and-maple syrup topping. In fact, they’re even good enough to eat on their own!

Most pancake recipes I’ve found online don’t generally bother separating the eggs whilst whipping up the batter, but ever since I started doing that, and was delighted with the fluffy, pillowy texture, I’ve never gone back. If you’ve got a handheld mixer, or a stand mixer, these will take no time at all to put together. It’s a bit of a fuss if you need to do it by hand, but I like to think of it as burning off the calories you’re about to consume. As Matt notes in his blog post, it’s also a fairly healthy recipe – whole grains, maple syrup instead of sugar, but I’ve tweaked the recipe slightly and converted the measurements into weight instead of volume.

For this year’s Fat Tuesday, I decided to go the savoury route and have breakfast for dinner. :) Inspired by the Sausage McMuffins, I bought a few sausage patties from Citysuper, fried up some eggs, and sandwiched them together to make a rather scrumptious meal. I’d strongly recommend anyone who likes pancakes to give this recipe a shot – I know it’s a little annoying to have to go out and buy a bag of buckwheat flour *just* to use about a cup of it, but once you taste how awesome these pancakes are, I promise that bag will disappear in a flash.

Browned Butter Buckwheat Pancakes
(adapted from Wrightfood)

150g buckwheat flour
1 tsp baking powder
a pinch of salt
50g butter
300g milk
50g maple syrup (or honey)
2 large eggs, separated

clarified butter for frying

to serve: sausage patties, fried egg, tomato chutney, and maple syrup (optional, but not really!)

Whisk the flour, baking powder and salt together in a medium mixing bowl.

In a small pan, melt the butter over medium heat. Continue to heat until the solids start to brown, and the butter smells nutty. Immediately pour the butter off into a measuring jug (that will fit your liquid ingredients) to ensure it doesn’t burn.

In the measuring jug, combine the milk, maple syrup and egg yolks with the browned butter. Whisk to combine. Pour the liquid ingredients into the dry ingredients, and gently mix together. It’s okay if your batter is a little bit lumpy.

Using an electric mixer, beat the egg whites to stiff peaks. Whisk about 1/5 of the egg whites into the batter to lighten the mixture slightly, then gently – but quickly – fold the rest of your whites in using a large metal spoon. You should take care to not deflate the egg whites too much, but I’ve found that faffing about with the batter for too long also results in lots of the air being lost.

Once the batter is ready, get frying – heat a non-stick frying pan over medium heat, and lightly brush the surface with clarified butter. (I prefer using clarified butter – over regular butter – when frying, since this way the solids don’t burn, but you still get that buttery taste and aroma in whatever you’re cooking.) Pour in about 1/4 cup of the batter at a time, cook until holes form on the top (uncooked bit) of the pancake, and it’s mostly solid, about 2 minutes. Flip it over with an offset spatula or your pancake-flipper of choice to finish cooking, about 30 seconds. Transfer to a warmed plate, and keep warm in a low oven while you cook the rest of the batter.

To assemble a Sausage McPancake (TM), lay one pancake out on your work surface. Spread a good dollop of chutney, layer over as many sausage patties as you’d like, and a runny fried egg. Top with another pancake, then drizzle over a little maple syrup, and tuck in.

Yield: Makes about 10 pancakes – i.e. enough for 3 Sausage McPancakes plus an extra dessert pancake each :)

That’s right, boys and girls, I finally did it. I brought nasi lemak to Hong Kong. (Or, to my flat anyway.)

For those wretched souls out there who have never had the divine pleasure of tasting this dish, it’s a Singaporean/Malaysian rice dish. The name is roughly translated to mean “rich coconut rice” (lemak being a Malay term that means “rich”, but specifically thanks to the addition of coconut milk), and centres around two main components: the titular starch, and sambal. The rest of the ingredients vary – from the ikan bilis (small, crispy, anchovy-like fish) and salted peanuts, to Malay-style fried chicken wings, an egg in some form (crispy-fried, or an omelette), luncheon meat (at the non-Halal stores anyway!), ikan kuning (yellowtail scad, dusted in turmeric and fried to crispy perfection), to sayur lodeh (an Indonesian vegetable stew in coconut curry).

For this feast at home, brought on by my mother very kindly bringing up a triple-wrapped tub of sambal up with her to Hong Kong when she last visited, I went with some of my favourite side dishes, but tried as far as possible to keep the experience fairly authentic, since we had a nasi lemak newbie among us. As you can see in the picture, I picked peanuts, ikan bilis, long beans with spicy minced pork, crispy slices of luncheon meat, chicken wings and a fried egg, all served around the rice, with a good dollop of sambal sitting atop some peeled and sliced cucumber. It was pretty epic – and my favourite compliment of the night was when a fellow Singaporean at dinner said she’d definitely return to a nasi lemak shop that served food of this standard! :D

Having googled around for recipes, it turns out that the rice was pretty easy to make. It was just a matter of cooking 2 cups of rinsed and drained Thai jasmine rice in an equal amount of of coconut milk, a finely minced shallot, a big pinch of salt and 5 bruised pandan leaves. Cook it however you normally cook rice, and hey presto you’re in business!

The chicken wings, however, were a slightly trickier story. I’ve long wondered how Malay-style fried chicken wings are so freakin’ tasty, especially considering they haven’t got my usual secret weapon (LARD) up their sleeves. I played around with some of the spices in my pantry, and think I came up with a pretty good approximation. I’ve included the recipe below, and if all goes according to plan, I’ll get my bum off the couch and figure out how to make the sambal soon, so Singaporeans all around the world won’t ever have to suffer the indignity of substandard nasi lemak in horrendous approximations of Singaporean restaurants ever again.

Malay-style Fried Chicken Wings

15 pieces of chicken wings (I used 10 mid wings and 5 drumlets)
3 shallots
5 garlic cloves
2-inch piece of fresh ginger, peeled
2 tbsp turmeric
1 tsp ground coriander
1 tsp soy sauce
1 tbsp oyster sauce
1/2 tsp fine sea salt
1 tsp ground white pepper
1 tbsp sugar
3 tbsp cornflour + more for dusting

canola oil, for deep frying

Rinse the chicken pieces, and pat dry. Set aside.

Finely mince the shallot, and place in a medium, non-reactive, mixing bowl. Grate the garlic and ginger into the bowl, being sure that any juices drip into the bowl. Add in the rest of the ingredients, and stir well to mix evenly.

Add the chicken pieces in and toss so each piece is coated in the marinade. Cover, and allow to marinate for at least 1 hour, or for up to 8 hours, in the fridge. About 30 minutes before cooking, remove from the fridge, spread out on a tray and allow to come to room temperature.

Heat about an inch of oil in a deep-sided skillet or wok to about 170ºC. It should not be smoking. (If the oil is too hot, the outside of the chicken will burn before the insides are cooked through.) While the oil is preheating, place about a cup of cornflour in a shallow dish, and dredge each piece of chicken in the cornflour. (Cornflour gives a crust that stays shatteringly crisp even after the chicken pieces have cooled, which makes it ideal for deep-frying in advance.) Fry the chicken in a few batches, without overcrowding the pan, for about 7 minutes, turning the pieces every couple of minutes, until golden brown and cooked through.

Drain well on paper towels, and serve immediately, or keep warm in a low oven until ready to serve.

Yield: Serves 5 (or 3 greedyish people)

As much as I love roast beef (and roast beef dinners), I find that what I look forward to more than the actual dinner is the leftovers. Wafer thin slices of cold roast beef, rewarmed in a little gravy, piled atop lightly buttered bread with various accoutrements like caramelised onions, blistered cheese, mustard, and – of course – a fried egg.

Of course, this sandwich would be nothing if I didn’t start out with a good piece of meat. Thanks to my sous vide supreme (what’s a beef-related post on this blog without a little ode to my SVS, eh?) all I did was season about a kilo of boneless Black Angus rib well on all sides with salt and pepper, then I popped it into the water oven at 55ºC for 8 hours, and I browned it quickly in a preheated cast iron pan just before serving.

And, if you’ve gone through the trouble of roasting up a some beef and making a whole bunch of sides like glazed carrots, creamed corn/spinach, and buttery mashed potatoes, you really can’t settle for gravy out of a jar either. I personally love a caramelised onion gravy, so I’ve included a recipe for one below. It follows the usual method of thickening a stock into a sauce by means of a roux, which can be adapted to pretty much any other roasts you make by swapping out the beef stock and adjusting the aromats for whatever’s appropriate (e.g. chicken stock, with some roasted garlic and thyme instead of star anise with the onions, for a roast chicken).

Roast Beef Sandwiches

300g leftover roast beef
2 large slices of french bread
softened butter
wholegrain mustard
3-4 tbsp gravy, reheated (see below)
4 slices melty cheese (I like cheddar or gruyere)
2 eggs
optional: caramelised onions, and finely chopped parsley

Preheat your oven to 180ºC. Line a tray with greaseproof paper. (This will make your cleanup a little bit easier since chances are the cheese is going to melt onto the tray.)

Thinly slice your roast beef. It’s a little easier to get the slices really thin – without the use of a meat slicer anyway – if the meat is cold, so I’d recommend slicing it up straight out of the fridge, with the help of a really sharp knife. If the meat is in one big chunk, it’s also less likely to dry out in the fridge.

Generously smear each slice of bread with butter, going right to the edges – this will prevent the bread from getting soggy. Place the bread, buttered side up, on the prepared tray. Spread a thin layer of mustard over the butter, then, in as even a layer as possible, divide the beef between the two slices of bread. If using onions, spread them evenly over the beef, and dollop the gravy over. Lay two slices of cheese on top, letting the corners hang over the edges of the bread, then place the tray in the oven for about 5 minutes, or until the cheese is melted and bubbly and the meat has been warmed through.

While the sandwiches are toasting, fry two eggs to your liking. Once they’re ready, top each sandwich with an egg, shower a little chopped parsley over, and serve immediately.

If you’re intending to pack the sandwiches, I prefer to have the eggs cooked over easy so they’re a little less runny, then top with an extra slice of buttered bread, and wrap the entire sandwich in foil. Turn your oven off and let it cool slightly, then pop the foil packets into the oven so that the top slice of bread is warm as well, then keep in an insulated bag and try to eat it within 30 minutes so it doesn’t get too cold and claggy.

Yield: Makes two sandwiches

Caramelised Onion Beef Gravy
2 medium red onions, thinly sliced
one piece of star anise
60g + 10g unsalted butter
2 tbsp AP flour
S+P
500ml beef stock

Melt 60g of the butter in a deep sauté pan over medium heat. Add in the onions and star anise, and cook until deeply caramelised, about 30 minutes. Season gently with salt and black pepper.

Sift in the flour, and cook for about 2 minutes. The pan should smell nutty from the butter and if you tasted it, there shouldn’t be a pasty, floury taste to it anymore.

Add in about 50ml of the warmed stock, whisking to fully incorporate the stock, then continue to add it to your onion-roux in additions of about 50-100ml at a time. When all the stock has been added, simmer for about 10 minutes, until thickened to your preferred consistency. Strain into a clean pan, stir in any extra pan drippings or juices from the roast beef (removing any fat first, if possible. Taste and adjust the seasoning as necessary, then keep warm in a covered pan on the stove. Just before serving, remove from heat and monte the last 10g of butter.

The gravy – which, incidentally, goes great with mashed potatoes, and makes a fantastic dipping sauce for piping hot fries as well – will keep in a tightly covered container in the fridge for about 3 days, assuming no one steals it – or your sandwich, for that matter – first. :)

Yield: Makes 1-1.5 cups of gravy

For the uninitiated, coconut candy might seem a tad daunting. To eat, that is. Little squares of toxic-coloured coconut shreds, bound together by what appears to be sugar and more sugar? Hot pink? Neon green? It can’t possibly be edible.

Only it is, and it is so delicious. Growing up in Singapore, my mum wouldn’t let us buy it off the shelves at the little mama shops around the void decks of HDB blocks, which was probably a good idea, seeing as the last thing a hyperactive kid needs is a huge hit of sugar straight into your bloodstream. As a compromise though, once in a while she’d make it for us as a treat. I didn’t really mind, since making it at home meant I could colour the blocks of candy any way I wanted.

When I was in Singapore a few weeks ago, I walked past a Bengawan Solo on the way to lunch with a friend, and she mentioned never being allowed to eat coconut candy as a kid either. That passing comment was enough to set both of us craving the stuff, fueled – of course – by how Bengawan Solo seems to have stopped making/selling this candy!

Once I got back to HK, I started looking for fresh shredded coconut, and e-mailed my mum to get her recipe. Once I found the coconut, I whipped up a few batches, went mad with the food colouring (as usual), and vacuum packed a little of it to send back to the one responsible for this craving back in Singapore. :)

It’s easy enough to make at home, requiring only three main ingredients – coconut, evaporated milk, and sugar. Different recipes will call for rose or vanilla flavouring, but I used a combination of rose water and fresh pandan leaves, which is how my mum used to make it. The only thing to note is that you’re gonna be standing in front of the stove stirring an unwieldy mixture in a pot for the better part of an hour, which will get pretty tiring, but it’s nothing a little Röyksøpp won’t fix. :)

Coconut Candy
250g fresh shredded coconut
325g caster sugar
100g full cream evaporated milk
1/4 tsp fine sea salt
2 pandan leaves, knotted
20g unsalted butter, plus extra for greasing
1 tsp rose water
food colouring (optional, but not really!)

Line a small, shallow tray with greaseproof paper, and butter the paper. (I used a tray around 8″ x 5″ x 1″.) Combine the coconut, sugar, milk, salt and pandan in a medium-sized, heavy-based saucepan over medium heat, and carefully mix. The contents of your pot will seem dry at first, then liquid will seep out of the coconut and the sugar will melt, giving you a very soupy mixture.

Cook the coconut mixture, stirring every couple of minutes to ensure that it doesn’t catch at the bottom and burn, for about 45 minutes to 1 hour. The liquid should thicken and reduce, and then completely cook off until you’re left with a very thick paste that pulls away from the sides of the vessel. Remove from heat, then quickly beat in the butter, rose water and food colouring. Using a pair of chopsticks, pull out and discard the spent pandan leaves. Don’t be tempted to use your fingers, as cooked sugar is extremely hot! Quickly tip the mixture out into your prepared pan and, using the back of a wooden spoon, or a sturdy silicone spatula, gently pat it down into an even layer.

Allow to cool for 10-15 minutes, then score the surface with a sharp knife, dividing the tray into about 16-20 pieces. Allow to cool and harden completely, then remove from the tray and cut through the scored surface. The candy will keep in an airtight container for 1-2 weeks at room temperature, which is probably a good thing, since I can’t eat more than 1-2 pieces at a shot. :)

It all started when I was last in London, and I had a scoop of the most perfect Pistachio ice cream at the Fortnum & Mason cafe. Wanting desperately to replicate it, I trawled through the internet looking for pistachio ice cream/gelato recipes, but each and every single one of them called for this elusive ingredient – pistachio cream/paste. (All the online stores selling it only either shipped it in industrial-sized tubs, or wouldn’t ship to Asia due to customs regulations.) After a couple of weeks, I started looking to try and make this darned paste on my own, only to be shot down again – you need some specialized heated rollers to extract the oils out of pistachios and mash them into such a smooth paste. And as much as I love pistachios, I wasn’t about to go that far, so I all but gave up the hope of ever getting my hands on any, especially when I couldn’t even find it last December in New York.

Fast forward to last month, where you’ll find the bunny and I trundling around Tokyo on a quick weekend trip. We were staying at the Ritz, which is conveniently located just off Roppongi, above Tokyo Midtown, aka home to patisserie Sadaharu Aoki (where you’ll find the best eclairs in Tokyo), and a Dean & Deluca store. While nosing around D&D one morning, I happened across an entire shelf of these petite clear bottles, each containing 5oz of a pale green paste. I swept as many bottles off the shelf and into my basket as the bunny would allow, and – grinning to everyone I skipped past – exultantly made my way to the cashier.

Once I got back to HK, I started digging around my bookmarks for all the recipes I’d found, and came across a rather recent addition – just one month prior, a recipe for Pistachio Eclairs had been posted over on Cafe Fernando. The bunny not being a fan of chocolate, I made a few tweaks, subbing a salted caramel sauce for the chocolate glaze, and reducing the sugar slightly in the pastry cream.

All I can say is, I regret not buying more pistachio paste. But all’s well – a bunch of friends are headed to Tokyo in July, and a few thoughtfully proffered eclairs have ensured that they’ll be saving some space in their luggage for my next stash of pistachio cream. :)

Pistachio Eclairs

Pistachio Pastry Cream (adapted from cafe fernando):

280ml whole milk
3 large egg yolks
2.5 tbsp cornflour, sifted
30g caster sugar (2 heaped tbsp)
140g (5oz) pistachio cream

Prepare an ice bath in a baking dish about 2-4 inches deep. In a heavy-based saucepan, scald the milk, then set aside. While the milk is boiling, whisk together the egg yolks, cornflour, and sugar until pale.

Whisking constantly, slowly pour the hot milk into the egg yolk mixture to temper it. Once all the milk has been added, transfer the mixture back into the saucepan and cook over medium heat, whisking vigorously, and bring it to the boil. Boil for 1-2 minutes, still whisking, then remove from the heat, and whisk in the pistachio cream. Place the entire saucepan into the prepared ice bath, and – stirring frequently – cool the mixture to 60C.

Scrape all the mixture out into a piping bag, clipping the mouth and tip as close to the pastry cream as possible, creating an airtight seal, and refrigerate until cold. The pastry cream will keep for 2 days, refrigerated.

Yield: About 2 cups

Salted Caramel Butter Sauce (from David Lebovitz’s The Perfect Scoop):

40g unsalted butter
75g caster sugar
125ml heavy cream
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1 tbsp coarse sea salt (fleur de sel)

Melt the butter in a heavy-based saucepan over medium heat. Once the butter has liquefied, add all the sugar and cook, stirring, until the sugar turns a deep golden brown and just starts to smoke.

Remove the pan from the heat and whisk in half the cream (be careful – it will splatter!) until smooth. Whisk in the rest of the cream, then add the vanilla extract and salt. If there are any lumps, whisk the sauce over a very low heat until it has all dissolved. The sauce keeps for 2 weeks in the refrigerator, and can be rewarmed over a low heat on the stove, or in the microwave.

Yield: Makes about 3/4 cup, which is much more than you’ll need, but it’s excellent drizzled on pancakes, ice cream, and pretty much anything else you can think of.

Pâte à Choux (from Sherry Yard’s The Secrets of Baking):

1/2 cup bread flour
1/2 tsp sugar
1/8 tsp salt
1/4 cup water
1/4 cup whole milk
3 tbsp unsalted butter
2-3 large eggs

Preheat your oven to 220C with the rack in the centre of the oven and place a heatproof baking dish or pan on the floor of the oven. Prepare a baking sheet by lining it with parchment paper (you can glue each corner of the parchment to the sheet with a dab of choux paste to keep the paper in place). Sift together the flour, sugar, and salt in a medium bowl. Set aside.

Bring the water, milk and butter to a boil in a medium-sized saucepan over medium heat. At the boil, remove the pan from the heat and add the flour mixture all at once. Using a wooden spoon, beat vigorously to combine.

Return the mixture to medium heat and stir constantly in figure eights. Cook for about 4 minutes, or until the mixture has a smooth, mashed-potato-like appearance. This helps to break down starch and develop gluten. Remove it from the heat, and continue to beat for 2-5 minutes, to cool the mixture down to about 80C. Add 2 of the eggs, one at a time, mixing until thoroughly incorporated before adding the next. Pinch off 1 teaspoon of the dough between your thumb and index finger, then pull your fingers apart – the dough should stretch rather than break. If it breaks, add the last egg. (I didn’t need to add the last egg.)

Fit a large plain tip into a large piping bag and fill the bag halfway with pâte à choux dough, pushing the contents towards the tip. Pipe 2″ strips, leaving 1″ of space between each strip. If desired, before baking, score each eclair with the tines of a fork or a sharp knife to aid the expansion.

Place the puffs in the oven and pour a cup of hot water into the pan on the oven floor. Quickly close the door to keep all the steam in the oven. Bake for 10 minutes, or until the puffs begin to rise, then turn the oven down to 175C and rotate the baking sheet. Prop the oven door open slightly with a wooden spoon and bake for an additional 10-12 minutes, or until the puffs turn nutty brown.

Remove from the oven and cool completely on a rack, about 15-20 minutes, before filling and serving.

To fill: either cut the eclair shells open horizontally, or use a piping nozzle with a long tip to pierce the side and fill with the pistachio pastry cream. Spoon or brush a little salted caramel sauce onto the tops, allowing it to drip down the sidest.

Yield: about 25 mini eclairs.

Happy 2010, everyone! Things have been a little busy in the ‘Kong, what with our NYC trip (which I will try to write about soon!), and back-to-back visitors over December. New Year’s Eve was a fairly tame affair in this household, with just four of us (the last houseguest of the decade, J, and S joined us in this year’s feasting), a delicious spread, and a healthy dose of booze.

To bunny’s dismay, J has been the first person around to not just entertain but encourage my crazy kitchen ideas, and while I was showing him one of newest cookbook acquisitions, we decided that NYE’s dinner needed to pay tribute to some of the yummiest food I partook of in the big apple. Having regaled him with tales of the Momofuku Pork Bun, that naturally was on the menu. When we flipped through and found the fried chicken recipe, things just started to fall into place.

And dinner was thoroughly badass. A fittingly epic last meal of the decade, starting with my take on the pork & egg buns, followed by David Chang’s fried chicken (which he brines, then steams, then fries, delivering a shatteringly crisp skin), and ending off with the River Cottage pistachio cake topped with a batch of cereal milk (based on Christina Tosi’s cereal milk panna cotta) frozen custard.

It’s now two days later and I’m still reeling from the deliciousness of the meal – something I couldn’t have carried off at such short notice without my trusty sous chef! (He also took most of the photos here – and you can see the rest of his shots – plenty of which involve the three monsters who have been haranguing him nonstop – on his flickr stream.) I’m also more than relieved that I don’t need to wait till my next visit to Manhattan before I get to sample more of David Chang’s awesome Momofuku creations!

Now, how did everyone else count down?

Pork & Egg Buns
(inspired by and based largely on recipes from David Chang’s Momofuku cookbook)

8 slices pork belly (see below)
4 slow-poached eggs (see below)
4 or 8 frozen chinese buns (the white sweet-ish sort, I substituted man tou ‘cos I couldn’t find the proper ones, but it worked fine)
quick-pickled cucumbers (see below)
4 tsp hoisin sauce
rendered pork fat or oil for deep frying, heated to 190C

Steam the buns according to the instructions on the packet (generally about 5-8 minutes on medium-high heat), and halve them if necessary. While the buns are steaming, deep fry the pork belly slices just so they’re heated through and the edges are golden brown and starting to get crispy. Crack the eggs out of their shells and slide them into the hot oil, deep-frying until golden brown all over and just heated through.

Assemble the buns from bottom-up as follows: bun, pork belly, egg, 1 tsp hoisin, 4-5 slices of the pickled cukes, then the top bun. Serve immediately, with chilli sauce and scallions on the side.

Pork Belly

5-600g slab of pork belly, with the cross section measuring roughly 2×4″
1 tbsp sea salt
1 tbsp caster sugar
50g rendered pork, beef, goose, or duck fat

Mix the salt and sugar together, then rub it all over the pork belly in a ziploc bag, then seal and refrigerate for 4-8 hours. Rinse, discarding any liquid that has collected in the bag, then transfer to a new, clean ziploc bag. Warm the rendered fat until liquid and pour it into the bag over the belly. Seal the bag, pressing out as much air as you can.

Heat a pot of water to between 80-85C. Using a flame-retarder, or any other method you prefer – if you’re a lucky bastard and already own a sous vide supreme, you should clearly use that (heated to 82C, specifically – maintain the temperature of the water in that range and confit the pork belly, en sous vide for 8 hours. Once the cooking is complete, plunge the bag into an ice bath to stop the cooking process, then refrigerate until completely cold (this makes it easier to slice). You can prepare the pork up to a week in advance until this step.

Before serving, run warm tap water over the bag to slightly loosen the fat, then remove the pork belly from the bag, scraping off the excess fat. Cut into slices roughly 0.5cm thick. The slices can then be warmed in a little oil in a skillet, deep fried, or grilled.

Slow-Poached Eggs

This is basically David Chang’s take on the ubiquitous onsen tamago – i.e. eggs that Japanese women used to make by carrying a basket of raw eggs into then onsen or hot spring baths with them while they bathed. In the time it took for a good soak, you’d emerge not just refreshed, but with a basket of creamy eggs, coddled in their shells.

There isn’t so much a recipe for this, it’s just a method. Essentially, the raw eggs – shells intact – need to bathe for about 45 minutes at 62C. Again, unless you have an immersion circulator, it’s a little hard to keep your water at Precisely this temperature, so if you keep it within maybe 60-63C, you should be good to go. Once I got a large-ish pot of water to 62C, I popped the eggs (previously brought to room temperature) in, and just turned the heat back on to medium-low for about 30 seconds every 7-8 minutes. Obviously, if you have a bigger pot of water, it’s going to maintain its temperature better, especially immediately after adding the eggs in.

Once the eggs are cooked, you can use them immediately, or chill them in an ice bath to arrest the cooking, and refrigerate until you reheat for use up to 2 days later. When you crack them open, there will be a little bit of egg white that’s still fairly loose, just crack your egg onto a saucer, and tip the dish over your sink, using your fingers to hold the egg in. It will drain off the loosest, translucent bits, and the rest are fine for eating.

Quick-Pickled Cucumbers

Another non-recipe: slice two to three small cucumbers into 1/8-inch-thick discs, and toss with 1 tsp each coarse salt and caster sugar. Set aside for 5 minutes, then rinse and drain. Taste them: if you like how they are (slightly crunchy, with a little saltiness and a hum of sweetness in the background), you’re good to go. Otherwise, correct the seasoning with extra salt or sugar, and drain again before using. It takes literally 8 minutes to do from start to finish, and the cukes can be held for a couple of hours max, so do this right at the end, just before you start your steaming and deep-frying!

Yield: Serves 4 as a first course, or 1 really hungry person. :)

I find it a little disconcerting that I’ve never posted about les croque monsieurs et madames before. I’m not the hugest fan of sandwiches but I don’t think the words exist to adequately describe my love for these. Stripped back to its core, you really have little more than a glorified ham and cheese sandwich, but oh what a difference that little makes. In one of my most recent food posts, on Mac & Cheese, I waxed lyrical about the joys of pasta, cheese and bechamel. Here, that same heavenly combination of cheese, bechamel and carbohydrate perform in an equally loved sequel, only with ham making his debut.

Of course, no sandwich ever lamented the addition of an additional egg, and that’s where the croque truly shines in my opinion. A sunny side up is the perfect ingredient to any dish – especially if you like it the way I do, that is slightly browned around the edges. From one little 2 oz package, and in a single mouthful, you have the ultimate dish really – a combination of textures, flavours, and a self-saucing one at that. Naturally, the gooeyness of an egg yolk lends itself well to sandwiches which, especially when toasted, might turn a shade dry.

Now, simple as this sandwich is, I’m not going to try to convince anyone that it’s a dish one should be whipping up every morning for breakfast. It’s a little too rich for that, for starters. But on a lazy Sunday morning, I can really think of nothing I’d rather be eating on my balcony with the bunny. Plus, if you made mac & cheese earlier in the week, all you need to do is save a couple of dollops, and thin that out on Sunday morning with a splash of milk for a croque that will come together in no time. :)

Croque Madame

2 tbsp unsalted butter, plus more for spreading
2 tbsp all-purpose flour
500ml full cream milk
nutmeg
150g freshly grated cheese (I like using either a mild cheddar or gruyere)
4 large slices of country bread
1 tsp of dijon mustard
2 thick slices of smoked leg ham (or as much as you want to pile in)
olive oil
2 eggs
salt & pepper

Preheat your oven to 200C with a rack on the upper third of the oven. Melt the butter in a small saucepan over low heat. Once it is liquid, pour in the flour, and stir briskly so that the butter and flour are evenly incorporated. Turn the heat up to medium, and, stirring often, cook for about 2-3 minutes, or until the butter starts to smell nutty, but before it takes on any colour. Slowly whisk in the milk, adding a little at a time and whisking all the while, to get a smooth sauce. Once all the milk is added, turn the fire down to medium-low and let it simmer, stirring and scraping the bottom every couple of minutes until it reduces into a velvety sauce. Season with salt and white pepper, and grate it about half a nutmeg. Whisk in 100g of the cheese, then set aside and keep warm.

While the bechamel is simmering, spread your bread on both sides with a little butter and toast it lightly. You don’t want it to get too brown, just to very lightly colour it. One one side of each slice, smear a little dijon mustard. Assemble each sandwich from the bottom up as follows: bread (mustard side up), ham, 1/4 of the cheese, bread (mustard side up again), a generous dollop of the cheesy bechamel, and another 1/4 of the cheese. Place the two sandwiches on a baking tray and bake for about 5-10 minutes, or until the sandwich is just warmed through and the cheese is bubbling and lightly browned in spots.

While the sandwiches toast, fry two eggs sunny-side up, or to your liking. Once the sandwiches are done, top each with an egg, sprinkle with salt and pepper, and tuck in!

Yield: Serves 2

Note: It’s hard to make the bechamel in a much smaller quantity than this, so I’d either save a little bechamel from another dish, or save the rest to use later. If you’re refrigerating bechamel, store it in an airtight container, with a little piece of clingfilm pressed to the surface (to prevent a skin from forming). It will thicken (or solidify, really), but you can thin it out easily but whisking a splash of milk in, and – if necessary – reheating it gently on the stove top. I don’t think it’ll keep for very long, but a little tub of bechamel has never lasted more than 2 days in my fridge anyhow. :)

I’m a huge fan of macaroni & cheese. I mean, what’s not to love? Perfectly cooked pasta (I quite casually use whatever shell, tubular or twisty short pasta I’ve got lying around interchangeably), creamy béchamel, and – swoon – oh, the cheese. I also really love that it’s one of those dishes you can eat unadorned, but it stands up so well to additions of protein, vegetables, or whatever leftovers you’ve got hiding out in your fridge.

This version that I’ve finally come to rely on is one that really doesn’t utilise too many things that you aren’t likely to have lying around. And since we’re just back from a holiday to Tokyo, and still suffering some withdrawal symptoms from it, it’s the perfect dish to whip up, while savouring the last financier from Pierre Hermé or peeking at the hoarded èclairs from Sadaharu Aoki. (But I’ll talk more about that holiday in another post soon!) A little milk, some seasonings, a little butter and flour come together to make a béchamel, which you then stir whatever mixture of cheeses you so desire into. Leftover roast chicken, crisped bacon lardons, or even steamed broccoli florets can be stirred in if you don’t feel like having it plain, then cook your pasta al dente and fold that in gently. If you’ve made your roux (and béchamel) in an ovenproof pot, the entire thing can then go under a hot grill (with a couple more handfuls of cheese scattered over), and once bubbling, browned and almost-burnt in spots, you’ve got a delectable one dish meal. Or a sinful side that would be in danger of showing up whatever main you’ve got on display.

Either way, please, please, PLEASE put those boxes of Kraft Mac & Cheese away. This one takes as much time to assemble as it does to cook your pasta, and is so, so worth it. I mean, c’mon – just look at the picture at the top of this post and tell me that hasn’t got your mouth watering already.

My Favourite Mac & Cheese

20g unsalted butter
20g all-purpose flour
500ml whole milk
200g freshly shredded mozzarella
100g freshly grated parmesan
250g dried macaroni (substitute with the same amount of any other short dried pasta)
salt & pepper
optional: a couple sprigs of thyme or rosemary, leaves picked and roughly chopped
optional: shredded leftover roast chicken, crisped bacon lardons etc

Preheat your grill to 200C. Bring a large pot of generously salted water to the boil.

Melt the butter in a medium-sized, preferably ovenproof, pot or dutch oven over medium heat. Add the flour in, and stir with a wooden spoon, until the pan starts to smell slightly nutty, regulating the heat to ensure that the roux does not brown. Gradually add in the milk, stirring or whisking all the while so you get a smooth, velvety mixture. Once all the milk is added, simmer over low heat to reduce until you have a sauce that coats the back of a wooden spoon.

Add the mozzarella and half the parmesan, a little at a time, then season to taste with salt and plenty of black pepper. If using, stir in the herbs and whatever proteins or vegetables you’d like to include. (I suggest around 1/4-1/2 cup of shredded leftover roast chicken, or 3-4 rashers worth of lardons.) Cover, and keep warm.

Cook the pasta until just al dente, then drain, reserving a little of the cooking water. Fold the pasta into the sauce, taking care not to break the pasta up. If necessary, add a little of the cooking water to loosen the sauce. Sprinkle the remaining 50g of parmesan over the top, and put the entire pot into the oven. (If you don’t have an ovenproof pot, transfer the mixture to an ovenproof dish or casserole before sprinkling the parmesan over.) Cook under the grill for just 5-10 minutes, or until bubbling, the sauce is browned in spots, and the edges are getting kind of crispy.

Yield: Serves 2 as a main dish, or 4 as a side.

There are no words to describe this pie. You need to make it, you need to eat it. There’s no two ways about it, so get to it already. The first crunch of your serving spoon breaking through the puff pastry top, releasing the steam and aroma into your dining room will be more than worth the effort. And then you’ll get to the pie. Oh god, I think I might pass out from happiness, just thinking about it again.

I’m considering this pie for one of those last-meal-ever stock answers. It’s that good.

PS: For those of you who read this from a feed reader, I’ve recently changed the look of the blog, so you should click into a browser and check it out. I’m more or less done with the small tweaks to the theme I’m using, so this is pretty much how it should look until I next get bored with the layout. :)

Steak & Guinness Pie
(Adapated from Jamie Oliver’s Jamie At Home)

Olive oil
3 medium red onions, peeled and chopped
3 cloves garlic, peeled and minced
30g butter, plus extra for greasing
2 carrots, peeled and chopped
2 sticks celery, trimmed and chopped
4 field mushrooms (I used portabellos), peeled and sliced
1kg beef brisket (or other stewing beef – I used a combination of brisket and shin), cut into 1-inch cubes
a few sprigs of fresh rosemary, leaves picked and chopped
sea salt & black pepper
1 x 440ml can Guinness
2 heaped tbsp all-purpose flour
250g freshly grated Cheddar cheese
500g ready made all-butter puff pastry (I used the ready-rolled sort to cut down the work even more)
1 large egg, beaten

Preheat the oven to 190C. In a large ovenproof pan, heat a couple tbsp of olive oil on low heat. Add the onions and fry gently for about 10 minutes – try not to colour them too much. Turn the heat up, add the garlic, butter, carrots and celery, then scatter in the mushrooms. Mix everything together before stirring in the beef, rosemary, a pinch of salt and a level teaspoon of pepper.

Fry fast for 3-4 minutes, then pour in the Guinness, stir in the flour, and add just enough water to cover. Bring to a simmer, cover the pan with a lid and place in the preheated oven for about 1 1/2 hours. Remove the pan from the oven give it a stir. Return it to the pan (uncovered, this time) for another hour, or until the meat is very tender and the stew is rich, dark and thick. A perfect pie filling needs to be robust, so if it’s still quite liquidy, place the pan on the hob and reduce until the sauce thickens. Remove from the heat and stir in half the cheese, then correct the seasoning if necessary (I usually add quite a lot more pepper), and leave to cool slightly.

If you’re not using ready-rolled puff pastry, cut about a third of the pastry off the block. Dust a clean work surface with flour and roll both pieces of pastry out evenly with a floured rolling pin until they’re both about 2-3mm thick. If you’re using ready-rolled, you might have to patch 2 squares together to make one large one, plus another single sheet – base this on the size of your dish. Butter an appropriately sized pie dish (I used a well-seasoned 10 1/2-inch cast iron skillet), and line with the larger sheet, leaving the edges dangling over the side. Tip the stew into your lined dish and even it out, before sprinkling over the remaining cheese. Brush the edges of the pastry with a little beaten egg.

Cut the other rolled sheet of pastry to fit the top of the pie dish and criss-cross it lightly with a sharp knife. Place it over the top of the pie and fold the overhanging pastry onto the pastry lid to make it look nice and rustic. Brust the top with beaten egg, then bake the pie directly on the bottom of the oven for 45 minutes, until the pastry is cooked, puffed and golden. Delicious served simply with peas.

Yield: Serves 4-6