March 24th, 2008

Right Side Up Chocolate Shots

So a couple of days ago, Chubby Hubby posted about a dessert that kinda flopped for reasons he and S couldn’t figure out.

I’ve mentioned before that my bunny isn’t a fan of anything chocolate at all, which means that I don’t really get the opportunity to play with chocolate very often. And while I’m not the world’s biggest fan of the stuff, I do enjoy it now and then. So the only logical thing for me to do was summon my chocolate fan friends (to consume it) and check out the recipe – and this way I could do something chocolatey without the bunny whining about not having a share of the dessert.


As you’ll have read in CH’s post by now, the dish is really a white chocolate soup topped with chocolate whipped cream. The individual components are pretty easy to assemble, just melting the two types of chocolate separately in a bain marie, and mixing the white with single cream and milk to form a chilled soup (which actually tasted a little like condensed milk to me), and folding the dark (with a little cocoa powder) into lightly whipped cream, which is them loosened slightly with milk to form a mousse-like cream. Now for the assembly.

The first one I tried was a little strange – the chocolate cream definitely floated, but because I kind of carelessly plopped it into the glass, it ended up suspended somewhere in the middle. Much like a very sad, dark brown iceberg. Because of the texture, I decided to try and let it “cling” to the sides of the glass, which seemed to work, until I got from one side to the other (moving across the diameter of the glass), where the white chocolate soup splashed up a little.

Third time’s a charm, evidently, since I finally figured that since it was clinging easily to the sides, I should run a little around all the sides, then fill up the middle, essentially letting the dark cream cling onto the cream that was clinging onto the sides. If you understand my rather convoluted syntax.

At the end of the mild adventure (once I’d gotten it right – everyone else wanted a go at it), I re-read the recipe to run through the steps again in my head. It seems like I may have overwhipped the cream a little in the dark chocolate layer, as I was only supposed to whisk it “until it just starts to thicken”. I went a liiiittle further and got it to in between “just starting to thicken” and “soft peaks”, which is what got me to that texture which was a little thicker than I would have liked if I were meant to drink that shot through a tiny straw, but hey – it worked. And it went through a normal straw just fine.

Related: The upside down chocolate shot on Chubby Hubby (where you can also find the recipe to this dessert).

March 23rd, 2008

I Feel Like Chicken Tonight

I have a confession: I love KFC. I know it’s disgusting, I know it’s greasy, I know it doesn’t really taste like chicken and is served with stuff that doesn’t really taste like coleslaw and mashed potatoes either. But it’s KFC – its so bad it’s good.

If I could, I’d probably veer towards Popeye’s for my fried chicken fix every so often. Problem being, the only Popeye’s I know of are both in Changi Airport (in Terminal 1 and 3), and that’s not exactly what you’d call my backyard.


A friend of mine came back from Hong Kong for the long weekend, and I decided to make dinner for her. On the menu, fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and coleslaw – that’s right, we were having homemade KFC.

The chicken was really easy to do, I steeped it overnight in buttermilk that I had first infused with some dried rosemary and nutmeg. When ready to eat, I just dredged it thickly in all-purpose flour that was seasoned with a little more nutmeg, crushed dried rosemary, a couple of random other things I might have thrown in, salt and pepper. I then deep fried it at 180C until golden brown on the outside, and finished off the cooking in a 180C preheated oven.

The sides were equally easy. I julienned half a head of purple cabbage and 1 large carrot, chopped some radishes into matchsticks and very finely sliced one scallion. I then tossed this to evenly distribute the vegetables before adding in my premixed dressing of 1 small bottle of store-bought mayonnaise (225ml), 5 tbsp of white wine vinegar (since I didn’t have any cider vinegar), 3-4 tbsp of caster sugar, and salt and pepper to taste. When well mixed, I just covered the nonreactive bowl with clingfilm, and chucked it in the fridge to sit for at least an hour. The potatoes were done in my usual style, i.e. peel them, boil them in salted water until tender, then mash with copious amounts of butter, season to taste with salt, then whip with cream and milk.

The entire dinner was a breeze to make – especially since all I had to assemble at the end was the fried chicken. Once I crack a gravy recipe, I may just have found a KFC replacement; and right in my own kitchen!

March 20th, 2008

One A Penny, Two A Penny

For the past year, there’s been one thing in particular that my bunny has been begging me to make. Ever since last Easter, she’s been pleading with me indefatigably to make her hot cross buns.

All of us have one of those dishes – something that transports you back to your childhood; which reminds you of those times you’d spend curled up with your mom (or [insert significant relative here]), sneaking off to buy these treats which the two of you shared in secret, lest your dad find out and scold the both of you again for wasting money. That’s what hot cross buns are to bunny, and since last year I didn’t manage to make them for her, I made up my mind to get it done by hook or by crook this week.

Now, that’s really easier said than done. You see, the last time I ate a hot cross bun was at least 10 years ago. Maybe even 15! I have no idea what they taste like anymore – apart from them being mildly sweet and being filled with dried fruit (which I don’t particularly like). All I really remember of them is that tune, and – even then – I often confuse it with the “Three Blind Mice” tune. Not a good start, I know. And although I’m more comfortable cooking savoury dishes, even when it comes to baking and desserts, I tend to prefer choosing recipes whose flavours and steps I can sort of envision as I read through them. None of the hot cross bun recipes I found really did that for me, so I ended up sorta winging it – taking a little from a Donna Hay book that I got last year, another from an issue of Waitrose Food Illustrated, and filling in the gaps in between with other recipes online, and then taking some creative leaps of faith.


Baking them, too, was not altogether uneventful. Because of the mixture of recipes, I ended up not really having a guide to follow. I realise now that I probably should have tried one recipe in its entirety first before having taken some creative license, but hey, at least it turned out pretty well.


Hot Cross Buns
(based mostly on a recipe from Donna Hay’s Modern Classics Book 2)

1 tbsp active dry yeast
1/2 cup caster sugar
1 1/2 cups milk at about 35C
4 1/2 cups of unbleached all-purpose flour
1 tbsp mixed spice
2 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tbsp freshly ground nutmeg
1/2 tsp fine salt
50g unsalted butter, melted
1 egg
2 cups sultanas, mixed peel, candied cherries, or whatever else you can get your hands on
1/2 cup extra flour
2 tbsp vegetable oil (use something mild tasting)
1 tbsp water

For glaze:
1/2 cup caster sugar
1/4 cup + 1 tbsp water
2 tsp powdered gelatine

Gently stir the yeast into the milk with 2 tbsp of the sugar. Set it aside for about 5-10 minutes until it begins to froth, so you know that the yeast is active. Sift together the flour, cinnamon, nutmeg, mixed spice, and salt.

Add the egg and melted butter into the yeast mixture, stir in the remaining sugar, then – using a small spatula – stir in the remaining dry ingredients until a sticky dough forms. Scrape the dough out onto a lightly floured surface, then knead until an elastic, springy dough forms (about 10 minutes). I re-dusted the surface with 2-3 tbsp more flour during this period. Place the dough into an oiled bowl, then cover with a damp dishcloth and set aside in a warm, draught-free place to rise until it has doubled in size (about 1 hour).

Preheat your oven to 190C, and grease a 9″ square cake tin, then line with non-stick greaseproof paper. (I don’t have a 9″ square tin, so I used a couple of smaller ones.) When the dough has risen, scrape it back out of the bowl, and divide it into 12 pieces. Roll each piece into a tight ball, then place into your prepared baking tin. Leave to rise for another 30 minutes, or until the balls of dough have expanded such that they are very snugly sitting next to each other in the tins. Mix the extra flour, oil and water together, then pipe crosses onto the buns. Bake for 25-30 minutes or until well browned and springy but firm to the touch.

While the buns are in the oven, make the glaze. Place the sugar and 1/4 cup water into a small, heavy-based saucepan on high heat until it dissolves. You may need to remove sugar crystals from the sides of the pan using a pastry brush dipped in water. Sprinkle the gelatine over the remaining 1 tbsp water, then add this to the pan once the sugar has dissolved. Boil for 1 minute, then remove from the heat.

When the buns are done, remove them from their pans onto a rack to cool. Drizzle or brush the glaze over, then cool completely on the rack. Eat them toasted with plenty of butter. :)

Yield: Makes 12 buns

Note: Okay wow, I just youtubed the Hot Cross Buns nursery rhyme, and it’s not at all like how I remember. It’s actually rather awful. I know some of you are on your way to youtubing it now, so here you go. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.

March 11th, 2008

Nuggets of Heaven

When I throw dinner parties, people seldom request for particular dishes. I’m virtually incapable of making any decisions, which means that while I can most likely put together any recipe that makes sense, make variations on traditional recipes, or come up with my own, I normally end up with a ridiculously long list of possible dishes, and it’s generally near impossible for me to cut them down and shape them into an N-course dinner.

But that’s most people. Once in a while, someone will make a statement that starts to shape my menu along like, “I don’t like duck confit – it’s always very dry or way too salty.” And I’ll volunteer to change that perception. Or even better, “I WANT PROFITEROLES.”


Those two statements, however, shaped up my menu for Wednesday’s dinner party. Profiteroles are something most people left behind in the 80’s, along with bad hair and strange music videos, but I personally love them. If done well, the fresh choux pastry forms a pillowy hollow into which vanilla bean-infused crème pâtissière is piped. Dust over with icing sugar, and then serve with chocolate sauce running down the sides of of the buns, and you have a nugget of heaven – ready to be consumed, leaving you speechless (or incapable of speech, perhaps, depending on the size of the pastry), as the flavours of the slightly salty choux, sweet and velvety custard, intense chocolate sauce come together in your mouth.

Profiteroles with chocolate sauce

1 quantity choux pastry (recipe follows)
1 quantity crème pâtissière (recipe follows)
100g dark chocolate
20g butter
whipping cream
honey
icing sugar to garnish

Preheat your oven to 200C. Make the choux pastry, then fill a piping bag with a large plain piping tip. Pipe onto a large baking sheet lined with wax paper (or a silpat), forming about 30 mounds, leaving space between each mound for expansion. Bake for 15-18 minutes, until puffed and golden brown. Remove from the oven, cool on a rack and store in an airtight container for up to 2 days.

Make the crème pâtissière, and store in a piping bag with a small plain nozzle in the fridge for up to 3 days. I personally prefer making it fresh, as it becomes a little stiffer and harder to pipe after it’s been sitting in the fridge.

When ready to serve, melt the dark chocolate and butter in a heatproof bowl over a pan of simmering water until completely melted. Mix in honey to taste (I used about 1 tbsp?), and when fully incorporated, pour in enough cream so that the consistency of the chocolate is that of pouring cream. Using the nozzle of the piping bag, poke a hole in the base of a profiterole, and pipe in the custard until it starts to spill out of the bottom. Repeat to fill all the profiteroles. Stack them together on individual serving plates or in a huge mound in the middle, dust with icing sugar, then drizzle the chocolate sauce over.

Choux Pastry
(based from Gordon Ramsay’s Just Desserts)
5 tbsp milk
5 tbsp water
2 tbsp sweetened condensed milk
1/2 tsp fine sea salt
70g unsalted butter, cut into small cubes
85g unbleached all-purpose flour, sifted
3 large eggs, lightly beaten

Put milk, water, condensed milk, salt and butter into a heavy-based saucepan. Heat gently until the butter melts. Bring the liquid to a boil, then add all the flour in at once. Remove from heat, stir until the mixture starts to come together, then return to low heat, beating vigorously until it becomes a smooth, thick paste that comes away from the side of the pan cleanly.

Tip into the bowl of your standing mixer and leave to cool for about 5 minutes. Secure the bowl to your standing mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, then gradually work in the eggs a quarter at a time, increasing the speed to high for 10 second bursts between additions to aerate the mixture. Continue until you have a smooth paste which is roughly the texture of a stiff cake mix. You may not need to add all the egg.

Cool until the choux is thick enough to spoon or pipe (5-10 minutes).

Crème Pâtissière
(adapted from Eggs by Michel Roux)

4 egg yolks
85g caster sugar
25g plain flour
3300ml milk
1 vanilla pod, split and scraped
a litle icing sugar or butter

Combine egg yolks and 30g sugar in a bowl and whisk it to a light ribbon consistency. Add the flour and whisk in thoroughly.

In a saucepan, heat the milk with the rest of the sugar and the vanilla pod. Once it comes to the boil, pour it into the egg yolk mixture, stirring as you go. Return the mixture to the saucepan, and bring to the boil over a medium heat, stirring continuously. Allow the mixture to bubble for 2 minutes, stirring all the while, then tip it into a clean bowl. To prevent a skin from forming, dust the surface with a veil of icing sugar or dot all over with flakes of butter. Once cool, refrigerate if not using immediately.

Yield: 30-35 profiteroles, i.e. serves about 6-7.

Photo credit: Photo at the start of the post was taken and uploaded by jon lin.

March 6th, 2008

Beautiful Belly

Bunny’s friend came over for dinner last night, and since she’s been whining a little (okay a lot) about us leaving for HK, I decided to do a slightly nicer menu that I usually do for occasion-less dinner parties. I was originally intending to do 5 courses – a tasting portion of XO scallop pasta, cream of mushroom soup infused with thyme and truffle oil (which I talked about here), a roast pork belly, duck leg confit, and profiteroles for dessert. I got lazy in the end and scrapped the pasta, but still ended up with a 4 course dinner that managed to impress.

While watching the Asian Food Channel one day, I saw a recipe for Pressed Belly of Pork on Gordon Ramsay’s The F Word. It seemed simple enough, and after a spot of googling, I found the recipe and decided to try it out. It was a great success, and everyone crunching away happily on their crackling loved it. I especially loved how tender the meat was, and the thin layer of soft fat remaining melted beautifully in contrast with the crackling. Also, it’s fairly simple to do, and – like most great recipes to pack away in the Entertaining section of your recipes folder – it’s best prepared the day before. I would probably add a splash of vinegar to the gravy though, as I thought it could have done with a slightly tart angle. Alternatively, spread a little dijon over your pork before digging in.


Pressed Belly of Pork
(Adapted from Gordon Ramsay’s The F Word)

1kg fresh pork belly, skin on
2 heads of garlic
a bunch of fresh thyme (about 7 or 8 sprigs)
white wine
chicken stock (I made stock using a carcass and mirepoix of vegetables)
sea salt
freshly ground black pepper
optional: dijon mustard

Preheat the oven to 175C. Lay the pork belly on a clean cutting board, and using a very sharp knife, score the skin of the pork belly evenly in a criss-cross pattern. Season well on all sides with salt and pepper, a couple of glugs of olive oil, and rub the seasoning into the skin. Use the pork to mop up all the seasonings on the cutting board. Cut the garlic heads in half crosswise, then lay them – cut side up – in the bottom of an ovenproof pan or roasting tray. Rest the thyme on top of the garlic, then lay the pork belly over the garlic. This will prop the pork up to allow the fat to render out, and infuse the pork with the garlic and thyme while cooking. Pour about 100ml of white wine into the pan around the pork, cover loosely with foil, and roast for 2 hours.

After 2 hours, take the pork out, let it rest on a cutting board, and make your gravy. Pour/spoon off all but 2 tbsp of oil from the pan, then heat it over a high flame. Deglaze the pan with white wine (I probably used about 200ml), then use a wooden spoon to scrape all the bits off the bottom of the pan, and mash the garlic heads and mix it in. Reduce by half, then add 100ml of chicken stock, lower the heat, and reduce to 1/3 the amount. Strain the gravy, pressing down on the garlic with the back of the wooden spoon. Let it cool, cover with clingfilm, and keep refrigerated.

Transfer the pork, skin side up, to a non-reactive dish, and cover with another dish, pressing down. Weigh the top tray down with some tins, and chill in the fridge for 6 hours or overnight. When chilled, the flattened, compact shape will have set.

When ready to serve, preheat oven to 250C. Cut the pork into cubes, and place on a baking tray lined with greaseproof paper. Bake for 15-20 minutes, or until the crackling is crispy, and the meat is completely warmed through. Scrape off the layer of fat from the gravy, then bring to a boil in a saucepan. Correct seasoning, then serve the pork belly with warm gravy

Yield: Serves 6-8.