As much as I pride myself on being organized (when it comes to cooking, anyway), every now and then, something beyond my control happens and springs a little surprise on me. Like a surprise birthday brunch with less than 36 hours to plan, prepare for, and execute. And, considering how most cake stores and restaurants need at least 2-3 days advance notice for a cake order, I ended up baking one.

Thankfully, one of the birthday girl’s favourite desserts is Banoffee Pie. If you’ve never made one of these, you’ll be surprised by how easy it is to assemble one of these babies. Of course, you could make life even easier for yourself and buy ready-made toffee in a jar or squeeze-bottle, but I tend to find those a little too sweet for my liking. You could probably also buy an aerosol can of whipped cream, and a pre-made biscuit or pie crust, and the only actual work you’d have to do would be to slice up some bananas and assemble the whole thing. It takes a little time to set, but you could easily whip it up the day before and ignore it till you’re ready to serve.

And although original recipe calls for a pastry base and dulce de leche made by boiling unopened tins of condensed milk, I decided to change things up a little by using a salted butter caramel sauce for the filling (I find straight-up toffee a little bit too sweet), and a biscuit base, which – according to the birthday girl’s sister – she prefers. I might try a different caramel filling next time though–this sauce was a little bit too liquid (and I was a little too greedy whilst filling the pie shell), so things got a little messy when it started to overflow.

My Banoffee Pie

For the base:
350g digestive biscuits
100g unsalted butter, melted

For the salted caramel sauce:
85g butter
150g sugar
250g cream
1 tsp fleur de sel
1 tbsp vanilla extract

For the pie:

4-5 ripe bananas
300g whipping cream
2 tbsp icing sugar
1 vanilla bean, split and scraped
30g unsweetened dark chocolate/cocoa powder/chocolate shavings

Preheat your oven to 180ºC. Crush all the digestive biscuits finely – my favourite method is to place them all in a ziploc bag and whack the back with a rolling pin – and melt the butter in your microwave (it should take about 30-60 seconds). Combine the butter and biscuits crumbs, then press the mixture into a 9″ tart pan (preferably one with a removable base). You want to ensure that the base is quite firmly packed in, and also evenly brought up the sides. Bake the base for about 8-10 minutes. Remove, and allow to cool completely.

Next, make the sauce. Melt the butter in a heavy-based saucepan, then add in all the sugar. Cook, stirring constantly with a whisk, until the sugar turns a deep brown and just starts to smoke. Remove from the heat and pour in half the cream. Be very careful, as the mixture will smoke, bubble and spit quite furiously. (You may want to wear an oven mitt to protect your hands.) Once the cream has been fully incorporated, whisk in the vanilla and salt, then gently whisk in the rest of the cream. Cool in an ice-water bath, then refrigerate until very cold.

To assemble, peel and slice the bananas into 3mm thick slices on an angle. Whip the cream with the icing sugar and the scraped seeds from your vanilla bean (reserve the pod for another use) to soft peaks. Pour most of your caramel sauce into the shell, you should have a layer of sauce about 5mm deep. Fan the banana slices out, overlapping the slices slightly. You don’t need to be too fussed about how it looks, as it’s going to be covered anyway, but just ensure that you’ve got a fairly even layer. Depending on the depth of your pie shell, you can also drizzle a little more caramel sauce over at this point. The key is to leave about 2-3mm of depth before you pile on the whipped cream. Finally, dollop on the whipped cream. I like to leave a little space around the edge so you can see what’s inside the pie.

The easiest ways to decorate this pie would be to dust the pie with cocoa powder, or just scatter dark chocolate shavings over the pie, but I loved the contrast of the chocolate sauce against the white cream. Melt some chocolate in a microwave (again, do this in a couple of 30-second bursts), then stir to melt the last couple of solid bits and cool it slightly. Once the sauce starts to thicken a little, drizzle it sparingly across the pie, in whatever pattern you’d like. Allow the entire pie to chill in the fridge for at least 2 hours to set, then serve with any leftover caramel sauce.

The pie will keep, refrigerated, for probably 2-3 days. (But they’ve never lasted that long in my house before!)

Yield: Serves 10-12

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.

I don’t even want to know how many cherry-dish posts have been so titled. But it’s alright, I’m not gonna think about it. Nor am I going to think about how I didn’t even actually make Cherry Pie, but Cherry Clafoutis.

I first became a little obsessed with making a clafoutis over a year ago, when I kept seeing recipes popping up in the food magazines I often flip through, and for some reason none other than one filled with ripe, sweet, nuggets of cherries would do. I’m not even sure why – considering my aversion to cherries (chalked up to one too many sour ones that I’ve over-enthusiastically bit into). Then the season passed, and the idea was pushed to the back of my mind, lost in a tangle of all the other ones filed under “To Make”.

Fast forward to a weekend, early last month, where you’d have find me wandering the aisles of a supermarket, picking out ingredients for an upcoming dinner party. I did a double take as I ambled by the produce section, where there were a few trays of Royal Rainier Cherries stashed between their usual deep red counterparts.

For those of you who’ve hesitated making clafoutis, you really shouldn’t – take it from me. It’s a ridiculously simple process, and if you’ve ever made pancakes from a box, then you’ve got all the necessary skills. Cherry Clafoutis is originally made with unpitted cherries, which imparts a slightly nutty, almost almondy flavour to the pie. I didn’t really like the idea of one of my guests crunching down on a pit and breaking a tooth, though, so I’ve added in that nuttiness by means of amaretto and some ground almonds. As Rainier Cherries are also quite a bit sweeter (and somewhat lacking in tartness) in comparison to the more common Bings, I’ve also added in a little lemon zest to perk it up and reduced the amount of sugar.

Rainier Cherry Clafoutis

500g Rainier Cherries, pitted (substitute with other types, or other fruit if unavailable)
100g ground almonds
100g all-purpose flour
4 large eggs
100g granulated sugar (increase the amount accordingly if using different fruit)
1 tbsp amaretto
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 1/2 (375g) cups whole milk
pinch of salt
100g pine nuts (optional)
butter for greasing
icing sugar for dusting

Preheat oven to 175C. Butter a 9 inch pie tin (or another appropriately sized baking dish), and add the cherries in.

Combine the ground almonds and flour in a large bowl, and whisk briefly to combine. In a separate mixing bowl, whisk together the eggs, sugar, amaretto, vanilla extract, milk and salt until thoroughly blended. Gradually pour this into the flour mixture, whisking continuously, until all the liquid has been added and there are no more lumps. Gently pour this into the prepared pan over the fruit, then scatter the pinenuts over the batter, if using.

Bake for 40-50 minutes, or until lightly browned and a toothpick inserted into the centre comes out clean. The clafoutis will still jiggle a little when you shake the pan.

Cool in the pan on a rack, then serve, dusted with icing sugar and a dollop of whipped cream (or vanilla ice cream).

Yield: Serves 6-8

I feel like I’ve been on some perpetual search for the elusive perfect cake most of my life. To me, it should be moist, but with a light, tender crumb. The buttery richness shouldn’t be outweighed by a heavy handed baker adding too much sugar, the eggs should give it a beautiful golden hue. There should be enough flour to give it structure and density, but not so much that it becomes leaden, dense or dry. A playful whiff of vanilla would be a fantastic foundation, and perhaps a citrusy glaze or an asymmetrical marbling of chocolate to build the complexity of flavours never hurt. But the search is over.

Having been sorely disappointed by one too many store-bought cake slices, I usually end up baking a cake for myself when the craving strikes. Some days, I’ll want to experiment; to trawl through my cookbooks for one of the earmarked recipes, but often it’s the familiar that I crave. When I’m in the mood for the latter, it’s my favourite cake that I invariably turn to – blondies. It is perfect on its own, doused liberally in a butterscotch or salted caramel sauce, yet somehow that perfection is surpassed when topped with a generous quenelle of home-made ice cream. The best part? It’s really simple and quick to whip up – it takes about 30 minutes to whip up the batter, and in the time it takes to bake, the dishes miraculously clean themselves, and you still have enough time to make the sauce. Really, the hardest part is waiting for the cake to cool and for the golden crumb to swell and soak up the caramel sauce.

And of course, it goes perfectly with that afternoon cup of tea. Hits the spot, every single time.

The only thing about baking an entire cake is that if I don’t want to gorge on an entire 9-inch, double-layered cake within the fleeting window when it remains at the height of perfection, it generally means there’ll be a distribution run to a bunch of happy friends. And after the last gazillion requests I’ve received for this particular recipe from said sticky-fingered recipients of the leftovers, I figured it was high time I just posted it up here. That way, the rest of you can enjoy it too. :)

PS: Sorry for the slightly long break I took between posts – I’ve been in and out of the country, and have had visitors in town (the HK Sevens was this weekend!), and also somehow managed to catch bunny’s non-contagious sinus infection. I have a couple more posts in my draft folder so will try to bang those out once I get a couple of minutes to breathe.

Blondies
(Adapted from Sherry Yard’s The Secrets of Baking)

2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
½ tsp salt
6 oz unsalted butter, softened
65g caster sugar
1 cup packed light brown sugar
4 large eggs
1 tbsp plus 1 tsp light corn syrup
1 tbsp vanilla extract
200g chopped toasted pecan halves (optional)
1 cup Salted Butter Caramel sauce (recipe below)

Preheat the oven to 175°C. Adjust the rack to the centre of the oven. Grease a 9×13 inch baking pan and line the base with greaseproof paper. Grease the paper.

Triple sift the flour, baking powder and salt into a medium bowl and set aside.

Using a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat the butter on high speed until soft and creamy (about 1 minute). Slowly add the sugars and beat on high speed until fully incorporated and the mixture is light and fluffy (about 10 minutes). Stop the mixer and scrape down the sides of the bowl with a rubber spatula as needed.

Add the eggs, one at a time. Be sure each egg is completely incorporated and scrape down the sides of the bowl before adding the next one. Add the corn syrup and vanilla.

Slowly add the dry ingredients and mix on low speed until just combined.

Pour the batter into the prepared pan, and smooth the top. Bake for 25-30 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the centre of the cake comes out clean.

Poke holes in the surface of the cake with a skewer or fork. Pour the caramel sauce over the cake. Let the cake cool in the pan on a rack, then cut into 2-inch squares before serving.

The blondies will last wrapped airtight at room temperature for 3 days, or frozen for up to 3 weeks, but frankly they never survive that long around my house. :)

Yield: About 2 dozen 2-inch squares

Salted Butter Caramel Sauce
(Adapted from David Lebovitz‘s The Perfect Scoop)

85g unsalted butter
150g sugar
250ml heavy cream
1 tsp vanilla extract
2 tsp coarse salt (fleur de sel)

Melt the butter in a large, deep, heavy-based saucepan or Dutch oven. Stir in the sugar and cook over medium heat, stirring frequently, until the sugar is a deep golden brown and starts to smoke.

Remove pan from the heat and immediately whisk in half of the cream and stir until smooth. (Wear an oven mitt since the mixture will steam and splatter, and may bubble furiously.) Stir in the rest of the cream, then the vanilla and salt. If there are any lumps of caramel, whisk the sauce gently over very low heat until they have been dissolved. This sauce can be stored in the refrigerator for 2 weeks. Rewarm it gently in a microwave or by stirring in a saucepan over very low heat.

Yield: Makes about 1.5 cups (so you can either just dump it ALL over the cake, or save the remainder for drizzling a little extra over the cake when you serve it. I am lazy and normally just opt for the former.)

Okay, bad rhyme. But I can’t help it – cheesecakes just get me into a certain sort of silly mood. As with most desserts, I’m generally not too hot on funny mutated variations, and I keep my tweaking to the minimum flavour-wise. Cheesecake doesn’t get any special treatment from me in this respect – I love it plain, rich, heavy, and with a buttery biscuit crust. No Oreos, no chocolate, no marbling, no fruits. Well, maybe I could do with a little compote or coulis on the side, but it should never be baked INTO the cake. I’m also not too fond of the Japanese souffle-style light cheesecakes. I want a cheesecake that’s so rich I can barely eat more than a sliver at a time – I just keep going back to the fridge for multiple slivers :)

This recipe is one that I found in my mom’s little scrapbook of recipes, where she’d paste her magazine and newspaper cutouts haphazardly, faded black and white pictures interspersed along with the recipes, and her scribbles on the notebook alongside the scraps, noting down changes she may have made. I was particularly intrigued by this one because it was on a tiny 2×2″ square of paper, with no title and only the vaguest of directions. It was barely more than the ingredients and the instructions to “combine ingredients, pour over crust, bake at low temp for 40 min”. Goodness knows where she even copied it down from. Over the past 10 years, my mom and I have experimented with this cake and I’ve now got my version of it, and hopefully with my notably more long-winded instructions, you’ll be able to add this to your list too.

Because of how rich the cake is, I can never eat a normal-sized slice at once. I like to bake it in an 8.5″ or 9″ square cake pan so that I can cut it into small, neat squares (or not-so-neat other shapes), but you could always use a 9″ round springform pan instead.

Cheesecake
(Adapted from my mom’s recipe scrapbook)

10 McVities Digestive Biscuits
60g unsalted butter, melted, plus more for greasing
3 x 8oz packets of Philadelphia cream cheese, at room temperature
100g caster sugar
1 tsp pure vanilla extract
fine sea salt
4 large eggs, at room temperature

Preheat the oven to 160C. Grease an 8.5-9″ square cake pan or a 9″ round springform pan well with butter (both the sides and the base). Line the square pan with a strip of greaseproof paper that hangs over the edges of the pan (this will make unmoulding the cake a lot easier), or the base of the springform pan. Butter the paper as well.

Place the digestive biscuits into a bowl or a resealable plastic bag and crush. It doesn’t need to be 100% homogeneously crumbled into a fine dust but you don’t want any huge lumps. Add the melted butter and a pinch of salt, stir together (it should look like damp sand), then press this firmly into the base of the prepared pan. Keep the pan in the fridge while you assemble the cake.

Beat the cream cheese in a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment at medium speed for 2 minutes to further soften it. Gradually add the sugar and a pinch of salt, then cream for 5 minutes on medium-high speed until it’s fluffy. Add the eggs one by one, scraping down the sides of the bowl between additions, then beat in the vanilla extract. Pour the cream cheese mixture into the prepared pan, then transfer the pan into the preheated oven and bake for 70-80 minutes, or until the middle is just set. If you prefer that the surface of your cake not be browned, you can also tent some foil loosely over the pan.

Once the cake is done, set the cake, in its pan, on top of a wire rack to cool completely, then unmould and refrigerate until completely cold. I love it as is, but you can always top it with some whipped sour cream, strawberry or blueberry compote, or I suppose no one will stop you if you even want to drizzle some chocolate sauce over!

Yield: Serves 6-10

I’m really more of a cook than a baker. I like the heat of the kitchen, the reliance on taste, sight, smell and feel to prepare and execute a dish whose flavours meld together on a warmed dinner plate, hastened by that rush of adrenaline where everything has to be brought together, seasonings corrected, and plated to be served in the last 60 seconds. But it’s not to say that I don’t enjoy baking – baking to me is something to be done on lazy afternoons, or in the middle of the night. When I have a craving that needs to be satiated, or when I want to gift someone with a homemade present (a plate of pasta really wouldn’t survive sitting around for a couple of hours, wrapped up in foil, before it is consumed), it is usually to baked goods that I turn.

Another of bunny’s friends recently gave birth, and it’s become a habit of mine to bake something for the family (hopefully to be shared by all of us!) when we visit the new baby. Along with the loot that I brought home to Hong Kong from our recent trip to Singapore, I also acquired The Cake Book by Tish Boyle. Now, I’ve already got a number of baking/dessert tomes, but having one fully devoted to cakes is my idea of heaven. I love this book not just for the way that the recipes are sorted, but also because of the clear and precise instructions, and the beautiful results I’ve had so far.

This cake is really a ginger pound cake, baked in a bundt cake pan for an elegant presentation, which is soaked with a ginger syrup while it’s still warm. Once cooled, I whipped up a ginger-crème fraïche frosting to punch up the presentation a little, and garnished it with the leftover slices of crystallized ginger that already went into the cake itself. It turned out beautifully – both in terms of flavour and presentation – with the subtle heat of ginger complemented by the tart fragrance of the lemon. The cake itself is very moist and has the tenderest of crumbs; in short it’s what all pound cakes should taste like!

Note: The original recipe called for sour cream, not crème fraïche, but I couldn’t seem to find any, which is why I made the substitution. Feel free to revert to the original – I’ve used the latter in my recipe below as it’s what I used. I also used the leftover to make the frosting, so if you’re buying sour cream for the cake, feel free to use it instead for the frosting in equal amounts. Just omit the lemon juice (which I added as crème fraïche is a little less tart), unless you feel that you need to loosen the consistency, which can also be done by adding milk.

Lemon Ginger Bundt Cake
(Based on the Lemon-Soaked Ginger Pound Cake recipe in The Cake Book by Tish Boyle)

Ginger Pound Cake:
302g all-purpose flour
57g cake flour
2 1/2 tsp ground ginger
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
227g unsalted butter, softened, plus more for greasing
350g granulated sugar
4 large eggs at room temperature
30g peeled grated fresh ginger
80g finely chopped crystallized ginger (plus more to serve)
2 tsp finely grated lemon zest
1 tsp vanilla extract
242g crème fraïche

Lemon Syrup:
80ml freshly squeezed lemon juice
133g granulated sugar
20ml water

Ginger-Crème Fraïche Frosting:
115g icing sugar, plus more for dusting
15g peeled grated fresh ginger
1 tsp freshly squeezed lemon juice
80g creme fraiche
pinch of salt

Start by making the cake: Position a rack in the centre of the oven and preheat the oven to 180C. Grease the inside of a 10 inch bundt pan generously, then dust with flour, shaking the excess out. Set aside.

Sift together the flours, ground ginger, baking power, baking soda and salt into a large bowl. Set aside.

In the bowl of an electric mixer using the paddle attachment, beat the butter at medium speed until creamy; 2 minutes. Gradually add the sugar and beat at medium-high speed until the mixture is light in texture and colour; 3 minutes. Beat in the eggs, one at a time, beating for 30-40 seconds after each addition. Scrape down the sides of the bowl with a rubber spatula as necessary. Beat in the grated ginger, crystallized ginger, lemon zest and vanilla extract. Reduce the speed to low, add the sifted flour mixture in three additions, alternating it with crème fraïche in two additions. Scrape the batter into the prepared pan and smooth the top with a spatula. Bake for 50-55 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the centre comes out clean.

Cool the cake in the pan on a cooling rack for 10 minutes, then invert it onto the rack set over a baking sheet.

Meanwhile, make the syrup: Combine the lemon juice, sugar and water in a small non-reactive saucepan. Cook over medium heat, stirring, until the sugar dissolves; 3-4 minutes. Remove the pan from heat. Using a pastry brush, dab the syrup generously all over the surface of the warm cake, allowing it to soak into the cake before reapplying. Dab any syrup that has dripped onto the baking sheet onto the cake. Let the cake cool completely.

To frost: Sift the icing sugar into a medium-sized mixing bowl. Place the grated ginger into a four-layer square of cheesecloth/muslin, and squeeze to extract the juice. There should be about 1 tbsp of ginger juice. Combine this with the rest of the wet ingredients and salt, whisking to form a smooth, thick liquid, then whisk it into the sugar until there are no more lumps. Drizzle it over the cooled cake, allowing the frosting to drip down over the sides, then scatter over some thin slices of crystallized ginger and allow it to dry at least 30 minutes before serving. Once dry, dust the cake with icing sugar.

The cake will keep for 4 days in an air-tight container at room temperature, or refrigerated for up to a week.

Yield: One 10-inch bundt cake, which serves 10-12.

If I were to be completely honest, I’m not a huge fan of yoghurt. I don’t particularly like it plain, and I don’t even really like the fruity versions (apart from the strawberry-flavoured Meiji single-serve tubs I used to find in Cold Storage in Singapore). But this? I love.

I first tasted something like it at 2am:dessert bar in Holland Village. Smooth, a beautiful pale green hue, and it’s summery flavours dancing on your palate as the herb’s fragrance married together with the slight tang of the yoghurt. After I left Singapore, I begged Janice for the recipe, and was surprised at how easy it was to make! Because I’m an idiot, however, I’ve since misplaced the original recipe I scribbled down, so I had to turn to my ice cream bible, David Lebovitz’s The Perfect Scoop for some help. I opted to follow a recipe that he uses for Rich Vanilla Frozen Yoghurt, and swap out the vanilla for some basil. I also used a simple syrup to sweeten the mix, and blended everything together using my immersion blender before straining and churning.

It really couldn’t be easier. Nor tastier. And I’ve also included a recipe for candied tomatoes, which go so beautifully with the frozen yoghurt – I suppose that was to be expected anyway, since it’s essentially a dessert version of a caprese salad!

Basil Frozen Yoghurt

100g caster sugar
100g water
15g basil (leaves only)
500g Greek-style yoghurt
pinch of salt
candied tomatoes (recipe below)

Combine the sugar and water in a small, heavy based saucepan over medium heat. Bring to a boil, and simmer for 1 minute, swirling to dissolve the sugar. Remove from the heat and allow to cool to room temperature.

Roughly tear the basil leaves, and place in a bowl or cup. Pour over enough boiling water to cover, and steep for 10 seconds before draining well. Place the yoghurt, sugar syrup, salt and basil leaves into a blender and blend until smooth (about 1-2 minutes). Alternatively, combine the ingredients in an appropriately sized vessel and process using an immersion blender. Allow to chill 1 hour in the fridge in a covered container. Stir well, strain, and churn in an ice cream maker according to the manufacturer’s instructions.

Serve with candied tomatoes.

Candied Tomatoes

5-10 cocktail tomatoes or large cherry tomatoes
200g sugar
1g salt
5 black peppercorns
250g water

Cut a cross in the base of each tomato and remove the core. Immerse them in rapidly boiling water for 10 seconds, then remove to an ice bath to arrest the cooking process. Once they are cool, drain and peel the skin off. Cut each tomato crosswise into slices about 5-8mm thick. (I made the mistake of cutting them too thin at first, and they disintegrated when I was trying to candy them.) Using the tip of a paring knife, scrape out the seeds. It’s more important to preserve the shape of the tomato slice than it is to get every single seed out. If necessary, rinse gently in a bowl of cold water to remove the remaining seeds, then set aside.

Combine the sugar, salt, peppercorns and water. Bring to the boil over high heat, and boil for 1 minute to dissolve. Gently place the tomatoes into the syrup, and simmer over low heat for 30-45 minutes, or until the liquid has reduced by half. Carefully transfer the tomato slices to an airtight container. Strain the syrup over the slices. The tomatoes will keep, in the container, for a week in the fridge. By which time, you’d probably have run out of the frozen yoghurt anyway :)

I’ve also been having a little bit of a scratchy throat, so I figured if I made some ice cream (which is fine for sore throats, just not coughs – before I get scolded by anyone), I could flavour and sweeten it with honey and that should work just as well as drinking honey water! So I whipped up a very simple Philadelphia-stype ice cream base, but used honey in place of the usual sugar. I decided against using a custard base because I didn’t want anything to overpower the delicate flavour of the honey, excepting a touch of vanilla to marry the flavours together.

Anyway, it’s super easy to make, and pretty darned tasty – it tasted like Honey Stars! I’m quite pleased with my recent successes in the ice cream frontier. Hopefully I’ll have time for a couple of batches yet before the weather turns too cold for me to churn anymore batches.

Honey Ice Cream

400ml whipping cream
200ml full cream milk
1/3 cup aromatic honey, such as heather honey
1 vanilla bean, split and scraped
pinch of salt

Combine all the ingredients in a heavy-based saucepan over medium-low heat. Cook gently, stirring often to dissolve the honey, until just below boiling point. Remove from the heat, and set aside, covered, to steep for 1 hour at room temperature.

Strain the cream into another container, discarding the vanilla pod. Chill, covered, at least 8 hours or overnight, then churn in your ice cream machine according to manufacturer’s instructions.

I was at a friend’s place a couple of weeks ago, two fingers of Bailey’s Irish Cream poured over a few ice cubes in a lowball. Swirling, sipping. Now, Bailey’s – contrary to popular belief – is a difficult drink to drink. You see, there’s that optimum point where it has been gently swirled around ice cubes long enough for it to be chilled perfectly, yet not left too long that it’s gotten diluted. You have to keep sniffing, swirling, and sipping, to figure out when that point is, then stop talking and enjoy it, before it passes and you have to top it up with more ice and Bailey’s before you’ll get back there again.

Suddenly I had a craving for Bailey’s ice cream. 15 minutes of Googling later, I’d perused a bunch of recipes that essentially directed you to make a pint of vanilla ice cream, then add in 1/2 a cup of Baileys before churning. Custard and eggless varieties included, I even saw one “recipe” where someone bought a tub of vanilla ice cream, stirred in Baileys, and froze it again.

So this weekend, when the same friend rang me up telling me that she’d gotten a bottle of Baileys for me, I slapped together the ingredients for a vanilla custard, and waited for the bottle to arrive with my dinner guests in tow. An hour later, I had a pint of probably the best ice cream I’ve had in a long time. It was so good fresh out of the machine, when it hadn’t really frozen completely yet, but even better the next day. Also, it went great with my pistachio cake, as well as straight up, or with an extra drizzle of Baileys over the ice cream.

Note: Measurements are approximated in the recipe below, as I didn’t actually measure carefully when I was making it this time. It should be about right though, just taste the custard before churning to make sure you’re happy with it before you start. Also, resist the urge to add too much Baileys – too much alcohol will prevent it from freezing solid, and also you really don’t want to get drunk on ice cream. It sounds like a good idea now, but it isn’t – trust me!

Bailey’s Ice Cream

400ml whipping cream
400ml full cream milk (I used Hokkaido milk for that extra creaminess)
1 vanilla bean, split and scraped
6 tbsp caster sugar
1 pinch of salt
4 large egg yolks
1/2 to 2/3 cup Baileys Irish Cream

Combine the cream, milk, vanilla seeds and pod, and half the sugar in a saucepan over very low heat until just below boiling point, then remove from the heat. Meanwhile, combine egg yolks, salt and the rest of the sugar in a mixing bowl and whip until very pale and fluffy. It should triple in volume at least.

When the cream is ready, fish out the pod and discard. Temper the eggs by slowly pour the hot cream into the egg yolk mixture, stirring constantly so as to prevent the eggs from curdling. Prepare a large bowl with ice water, and set a smaller bowl inside it. Strain the mixture into a clean saucepan and cook over medium heat, stirring often, until it thickens enough to coat the back of a wooden spoon. Pour the custard into the prepared bowl in the ice bath, and cool to room temperature quickly. Cover, and chill until cold (or preferably overnight).

Mix in the Baileys, then churn in an ice-cream machine according to manufacturer’s instructions, or freeze in a shallow container, whisking the mixture every 30 minutes to break up the ice crystals, for 4 hours or until soft-serve consistency. Transfer to an air-tight container and freeze until solid.