The Sugar Bar » breads

Chin Mee Chin Confectionery: the bare essentials

diva — Sun, 31 Oct 2010 09:46:15 +0000

In London, living in the East was something rather coveted by the people in my social circle (partly because we all wanted to be each others’ neighbour). And true enough, I loved being an Eastie bummer. Having a choice of local Vietnamese on Old Street/Kingsland Road, The Breakfast Club and The Diner literally a stone’s throw from my apartment, some cool haunts we never failed to end up in Hoxton/Dalston plus quirky vintage shops of Brick Lane pretty much stretching out its arms beckoning me in…the East was it for me. So vibrant and alive, so weird and wondrous, so intensely insane and buzzing, grimey, damp and unkempt. The East, like an ever-repeating collage of faded signs, cracked paint jobs, crumbling walls and random dotting of dog poop, like a crazed soothsayer who can’t shut up has much to tell. A place with that much character is not easily forgotten but forever burned into the back of your eyelids, reminding you that at every turn there is a story to uncover. Whatever it was, it was home, for a while at least.

In my hometown, I’m also an Eastie. And here, to live in the East leaves very little in terms of cuisine to be desired! At least, that was what I was told before we moved into this area five years ago. East Singapore has much to offer in terms of dining areas, brimming with little eateries, restaurants, traditional Chinese bakeries and hawker centres offering the famous selection of local dishes like Katong laksa, fried Hokkien prawn mee and Hainanese chicken rice. You can never go hungry if you live in the East. And that rings ever more true if you work in the East. The past few weeks I’ve been hired as my sister’s PA. No, don’t even dare think it is glamorous. I’ve also started helping out one of her friends as a researcher to source the market for environmentally green products, etc. When the brain’s working and the pen’s tapping away, one gets hungry very easily. Moreish and so dastardly peckish. Our office is situated on East Coast Road, quite the food hub I must say. This stretch of road offers the traditional to the modern, ranging from un-air-conditioned outdated coffee shops to the glass-doored modern restaurants & bars decorated with queer names to the pretentious cafés with an eye for minimalism. It’s got it all.

A famous little Hainanese coffee/cake shop here is Chin Mee Chin Confectionary introduced to me by A my sister of course who is up to her arms deep in the knowledge of good local haunts. It’s the only coffee shop she visits in the area and although my iced kopi C (iced coffee sweetened with Carnation milk…I’m still getting the hang of all the codes for ordering local coffee) wasn’t the best, CMC (as it’s commonly known in this area) is beloved by the locals who patronize it for a traditional Southeast Asian slash Chinese breakfast old-school style. And what would that be, you’re asking? Coffee + kaya toast + half-boiled eggs seasoned to your own taste with ground white pepper and Chinese soy sauce. Kaya is coconut jam, a thick and lusciously rich jam of a custard-like texture made from coconut, egg yolks and sugar and flavoured with pandan leaves. I may not have tried CMC’s kaya toast (we were too stuffed after a big fat lunch), but the locals (and even some foreigners) swear that CMC’s locally made kaya, all made from scratch within the shop, is simply the nation’s best. I peered at a neighbouring table’s kaya toast and it looked mouthwateringly good for sure, slabbed with loads of butter onto a toasted bun sliced in two, this is Singapore’s version of butter & jam on hot cross buns I suppose!

Because I had become a hippopotamus post-lunch, I did not eat much in this little un-air-conditioned hole-in-the-wall (only a coffee & a small cupcake). But that didn’t stop me from getting swept off my feet by the understated 1950s old world charm it exuded. It is certainly a nostalgic jewel of a find with ceiling fans, tables with marble tops and dark wooden legs, floral-patterned mosaic tiles across the walls and tiny green tiles on the floor which reminded me so much of the music room of an old piano teacher of mine. It’s even got the ol’ shophouse metal shutters for doors! People sit around comfortably, elbows on the tables because they don’t give a damn and slurp coffee out of porcelain mugs just like in the old days. From the yuppies who stop by during their lunchbreak, to the locals who are well chum with the aunties who run the shop, to little kids with faces glued to the glass cake display box to tourists seeking out authentic local flavours to curious weirdos like me, CMC welcomes everyone without discrimination (except maybe one of the coffee aunties who was cranky as an old cow!).

CMC is a place of so much character and personality, aged but riveting like a fine wine, hardworking, honest and fondly remembered like a good woman. It captivates me, and I’m certain it’s the same for many others! A true local favourite.

Wander in into this shop serving up just the bare essentials from interior to menu, walk down memory lane and feel like a child yet again. I could find nothing in there that disappointed me or upset me in any way. Simplicity at its best and a human character the Chinese value most.

Chin Mee Chin Confectionery
204 East Coast Road
Singapore
Open Tues-Sun 730am – 430pm

•••

And just another photo of something local snapped on the same day when A took her old box-type Mercedes to the car workshop…How old school, eh.

*photo taken on a Diana F+

Princi Bakery Cafe: Art Thou My Safe Haven?

diva — Fri, 16 Apr 2010 16:32:43 +0000

I haven’t stepped out of the house much other than for groceries, heading to the library or for work. There hasn’t been much venturing towards coffee shops and I have missed that coffee shop atmosphere, the scent of beans brewing, the bustling back and forth by waiters from tables to bar and for neat freaks like you and I, the sight of assorted cakes, cookies, breads all perfectly laid out on trays or stands behind glass covers. I’m a coffee shop girl through and through; and I like bringing work or reading with me to a coffee shop because the atmosphere always gets my motivation going. I’m not going to deny the romance of a smooth black cuppa, and the flaneur-esque peaks I take out of the window whilst sat at a table all to myself. I’m always at such peace in a coffee shop, pensive and sometimes a little relieved (maybe because of the temporary escape from city-paced walking out on the streets). Time seems to slow down to the beats of dripping filtered coffee, ticking away within its own coffee shop universe that is as uncomplicated as a scone, jam and clotted cream. I heart it, and surely many others of you do.

But hanging out in London coffee shops sometimes is much too much effort. The cost of travelling to one (the Starbucks here in Old Street ain’t that bad but it’s just a little too squishy for my liking and hasn’t anyone realized that Starbucks coffees aren’t that impressive) is not great for a poor student like me, walking to the amazing quirky little ones which stock Monmouth coffees out in Shoreditch is just too distracting sometimes, especially when your table-neighbours are wearing lame silver leggings, have streaks of bright green in their hair and this is all some time before midday. And then there’s the cost of sitting in the coffee shop. It’s not the coffee that’s expensive. It’s the other stuff that I can’t resist ordering. I can’t nurse a lone coffee. I’m just not that type of girl. I’d need a cookie, or a pannetonne, or a fruit tart, or a scone, or even lunch and the whole shebang. I’d be broke by the end of the month if I kept up my coffee shop habits like I normally do back home or during my undergrad days (when I got free coffees through a friend).

Things changed this week though. I handed in one essay 4 days early and I thought this sort of behaviour just had to be rewarded! So I visited Le Pain Quotidien in Goodge Street for a little sit down with my library books. No food photos I’m afraid but I was thoroughly impressed with the atmosphere and the communal dining table. I didn’t order much except an iced black coffee (which came extremely milky because the dude with dreadlocks who took my order was ditzy to the core), a flourless oh-I’m-in-love-type of brownie (which was expensive for the size of it but worth ever penny because it was seriously good) and an Americano after. The coffee was really good and I loved that it came in little bowls – true Frenchness gets my thumbs up.

And then today, I nearly lost my job. It’s a real long story but let’s just say the good news is that I didn’t lose it in the end. And I’ll have to thank my Mama’s fighting spirit that I’ve inherited for that. Well after the whole meeting, my brain was all a little fuzzy and my stomach – which had not stopped growling all through this serious meeting – was about to throw in the towel. Hence, my 2nd coffee shop trip/treat of the week was well justified. Again, I had no camera on hand. But from the outside, the stylish brown Princi sign was like light at the end of a dark tunnel. Stepping through the glass doors into this underworld of glorious breads, the sound of excited chatter, the smell of flour and cheese, the clinking of wine glasses, the spitting and hissing of opening cans of soft drink – it was truly my safe haven. And the interiors don’t get any more chic than Princi’s.

I ordered a slice of woodfired margherita pizza and an Americano (which wasn’t as impressive as Le Pain’s I’m afraid), had a great big chat with the mates at work on my Blackberry whilst this beautiful man next to me flipped through a Tom Ford folder. The lady on my right was reading the paper. The sound of the pages turning was quite comforting and reminded me of my Dad who reads the paper every morning religiously. Although there are quite a few tables and communal ones about, I was attracted to the bar at the back. I love bar stools so naturally I zoned in on that area quick as anything. The zen water feature of running taps in front of the bar tables was very nice too. See what I mean about the safe haven?

I’m loving this place so much I can’t wait to visit again. On my next visits to Princi and Le Pain Quotidien, expect more pictures! Til then, check out what I took home with me: Tiramisu and Olive Bread. You so have to love Princi for making their cakes in neat little rectangles!

Princi
135 Wardour Street
London
W1F 0UT
Tel.: 020 7478 8888
Opening hours: Mon-Sat 7.00-00.00 Sun 9.00-22.00

Safe trip dear S. and Victorian Blists Hill

diva — Mon, 01 Mar 2010 08:24:04 +0000

The one most important thing which foodbloggers do best is giving/sharing food. Sometimes the effort put into that is enormous, requiring days of preparation or a massive journey, and sometimes it only takes the smallest bit of time. But even that shouldn’t be discounted because of the amount of thought that went into it. Either way, to see the recipient break into a big grin is the best reward and the happiest moment we can wish for. And an occasion without food is simply the end of the world for us, now isn’t it? Doesn’t food just make the occasion completely?

A fellow friend of mine, much loved and adored, is about to leave to travel the world in a couple of weeks. The next two weeks ahead are slightly busier than usual due to a research proposal deadline, of which I have very little confidence in successfully producing one I’m satisfied with due to the lack of preparation. Been too caught up with other things and my two presentations this week. Because a send-off at the airport just isn’t feasible and a farewell meet-up closer to her fly-off date wasn’t wise when the aforementioned deadline contributes a lot to my Masters degree and looms scarily close, I copied A’s move to train it up to Shrewsbury for the weekend with S. Felt wrong to go empty-handed, especially when I wouldn’t be seeing her for about half a year so I made some lemon curd-filled chocolates the day before and made a trip out to LOLA’s before uni on Thursday afternoon for some mini cupcakes. Sad to say, even though I’d gotten only the small ones, they got a little banged up on the train to and fro uni and home. The ‘epic’ cross-country journey up didn’t do them any good either. Buttercream bruises aside though, it seemed the taste and moistness wasn’t at all affected. Or at least, that’s how it seemed to me. Unless the folks were lying. Jokes.

On a cupcake note, I was surprised to find this month’s new flavour to be Pink Champagne: Pink Champagne-laced cupcake and buttercream frosting topped with a ball of coconut-covered white chocolate champagne truffle. LOLA’s always surprises me with simple, exquisite flavours. They’re never over-the-top and I quite like that they pull it off with quality ingredients and not whacky over-indulged combinations. I really enjoyed every bit of my pimped out Valentine’s Day cupcakes from Hummingbird but this pastel pink and lightly silver glittered cupcakes were a nice change and easier on the eye, I must admit. Also, it gave me a few more ideas for my contribution to Meeta’s Monthly Mingle. The ingredient for that is champagne and the deadline is 16 March. If the proposal goes well, I should be able to submit a post for that fingers crossed!

Although it was only a short stay that I had, we managed to pack in quite a bit. A lovely dinner with cocktails at a British restaurant Mad Jack’s, English pancakes (I had mine with golden syrup and bacon) the next morning with two lovely cuppas made by the bestie, and a good ol’ roadtrip with Mama S. behind the steering wheel in Shropshire. Oh and did I mention that getting away from the concrete jungle meant I finally could see some greenery? That helped majorly with my grey withdrawals I think. And my fav cat no.2 (no. 1 reserved for bestie’s black persian Mortimer) Jasper did bring quite a bit of sunshine and furballs into my life. Gave him a big kiss on the neck and felt a purr vibrate up through my lips (which resulted in quite a bit of fur stuck on the lips and down the throat). He might’ve taken part in some cupcake eating as well. What a cutie.

All sugared up and ready to face the world, we wrapped up as warm as we could (I forget it’s always freezing up north), bundled away into Mama S’s snazzy black car and zipped back in time – into the Victorian town of Blists Hill. I like period dramas. I like anything historical. So this was so much fun! A, a geographer by degree, was thrilled! Stepping back into a Victorian village, visiting the old pub (bestie got serenaded to), peering through the glass into the grocer’s, chatting to the nice lady in the local draper’s, teasing the piggies by the pork pie shop, discovering the clever magic of the candlemaker in his dark workshop, etc. There was so much to learn and see – it was both entertaining and educational. We sound like geeks now don’t we? I suppose we are! But it was such good fun. And yes, the people who work or volunteer at Blists Hill are in full costume and character! It’s so brilliant!

The local drapers and the bakery were my two favourite, not surprisingly. The blacksmith’s was pretty cool too. Although I’m not going to share with you my giant haul of photographs because that may simply bore you, check out the rustic homeliness of the local bakery. With 2 ovens the size of single beds, this bakery could churn out enough cakes, breads and biscuits to feed the whole town! The candlemaker makes 1000 animal fat candles (which are a lot brighter and wind-resistant than our usual parafin ones) in 90mins. The level of subsistence of the town to self-provide was amazing. When we visited the bakery, there wasn’t much left on the shelves but the pretty baker was busy cutting up some sort of cake or flapjack. We stood eagerly by the door hoping to be the first ones to buy those warm treats but to no avail. She ignored us. Gah, so gutted!

We waited and waited. But she didn’t get those cakes out. So we settled for what was already on the shelves. As if we would have been disappointed anyway!

Cinnamon-perfumed Fruit cob for S.

Light and crunchy Ginger biscuit for moi

Despite the grey, the wet and the freezing cold, we had such a great time. I honestly had a really good back-to-the-past experience in Blists Hill and it made me forget about the depressing drudgery of the big smoke. Felt a little Jane Austen-y as well. That always helps with a bit of literary inspiration I hope which is much needed at the moment. And because it’s about time I continue working on tonight’s presentation, I must love you and leave you.

Watch out for the next post on some yum country pub grub.

Bourbon Banana Bread

diva — Mon, 17 Aug 2009 08:05:31 +0000

If you kept up with my Twitter updates, you may be familiar with the moments in which I was cordoning off the kitchen with police tape to protect my ripening bananas. Keeping them off-limits to the family is rather a struggle, especially when the family is quite fond of bananas, you literally have to fight and throw them off the fruit bowl. Although I was much tempted to hire samurais to guard the bloody bananas, I did not. And neither did I resort to leaving 3M sticky notes to declare my ownership of them. In the past, my sisters used to justify taking my stuff with this excuse: “I didn’t see your name on it. So it’s not yours.”; I honestly feared for my life that the bananas would become communal fruit and did consider scribbling my name in capitals on the outer skins with a thick fat black marker pen. The hilarity of it! Well, I resisted that urge as well and thankfully, on the decided day, there were 3 chubby over-ripe bananas ready to be mashed for my utmost pleasure. After nearly 22 years, I suppose the family now understand that when it comes to food, baking and cooking, I mean business and you honestly, do not want to mess with me.

Funnily enough, I’m not big on bananas. I’d eat them in cake but on its own, it’s always a begrudging affair. I have a similar problem with cooked salmon. I’d die for sashimi but poached, panfried salmon blah blah is just mediocre for me. I’d eat it cause I know it was good for me, not that I was particularly in the mood for it. So anyhow, I wanted to make a banana bread I could have for tea. And I knew it would be a great choice for a teacake since it is and will always be my mum’s favourite cake. Somehow I just couldn’t let these fabulously ripened bananas go down the traditional banana bread route. I could feel this itch to jazz it up with something diva-ish. And yes, what more could we desire for than a wicked splash of booze? I’ve got to thank Nigella for this beauty of a recipe. Initially, I wasn’t too sure about raisins in banana bread. It just seemed a little bit of an extraneous ingredient but now that I’ve tasted it, I’d say this would be one of the better banana bread recipes I’ve tried and will stick to in the future. Don’t panic, this isn’t an Adults-Only recipe as you cook away the alcohol, which adds a great bang of flavour in my opinion. Welcome to the dark side, there’s no turning back now.

The original recipe uses 100g sultanas, and chopped walnuts. I didn’t have any of the latter ingredient lying around and I wanted my banana bread to be nut-free but feel free to stick to the original recipe if you like. Because I’m still on my summer holiday before term begins late September to October, I’m pretty much doing jackshit every day. My daily existence involves lazying about watching cooking shows on Discovery Travel & Living, reading Murakami, re-decorating my bedroom, preparing lunch and dinner, etc. Really mundane things and yet, I’m quite enjoying this life and feel a little bit like I’ve walked straight out of some sort of Southern film: sitting on the front porch in an old rocking chair with a cold one and my happy chappy dog watching the sun rise and set. It’s awesome. Except I’m on the patio out in my garden by the koi pond; sitting in one of those foldable fishing chairs with a double shot Pimm’s & lemonade, a slice of boozed-up banana bread, surrounded by my family of dogs hovering eagerly around me for banana bread scraps. Not quite the same, but awesome just as well.

Think I’m lazy? I might agree. But I’m thinking since the love life took a bad turn, I deserve to treat myself and be awfully, disgustingly lackadaisical for a little while. Waking up to Chris Moyles on BBC 1 Radio and listening to the deejays chat about jalapeños and jalapeñises, participating in a ping-pong game of banter with my Northern scally friend on Facebook chat, lazying about on my bedroom floor on comfy cushions with a bottle of water, cold can of coke, magazines and books within easy reach is the life! That’s the life for now at least until I find this mundane, laid-back, sedentary existence boring, to which I’ll later find the drive to sort my life out and get with it.

Until then, I expect to be a real lazy Epicurean, whatever. Hopefully, that involves more cake posts on The Sugar Bar!

Bourbon Banana Bread
(adapted from Nigella’s Banana Bread in How to be a Domestic Goddess)
Ingredients

Place the sultanas and bourbon in a small, heavy-based saucepan and bring to the boil. Remove from heat, cover and leave for an hour if you can, or until the sultanas have absorbed most of the liquid, then drain.

Preheat the oven 170d Celsius. Grease and flour a loaf tin.

Place flour, baking powder, bicarb and salt in a bowl. I did not sift the flour but simply gave the mixture a good whisk by hand.
In another bowl, mix the melted butter and caster sugar, beating until blended with a wooden spoon. Beat in the eggs one at a time, then the mashed bananas. Stir in the drained sultanas and vanilla. You may add extra nuts like walnuts or pecans if you like.

Add the flour mixture a third at a time, stirring well after each addition. Pour into loaf tin and bake for 1 – 1 1/4 hr. Mine was perfection at 1hr so you might want to start watching it slightly before it hits 60mins. Remove from oven and test with a toothpick inserted down the middle of the loaf. It should come out clean.

Leave in the tin on a wire rack to cool but remember to serve this warm, with a nice cuppa tea!

Anything-Sorta-Goes Fish Pie

diva — Wed, 21 Jan 2009 14:44:46 +0000

Has anyone been watching ‘Big Chef Takes On Little Chef‘? Heston Blumenthal, owner and chef of 3 Michelin-starred restaurant The Fat Duck in Berkshire, attempts to restore the British chain of motorway restaurants Little Chef from financial crisis by revamping its menu. I am actually hooked! 9pm Channel 4 every night. The tension between the owner of Little Chef and Heston just leaves me totally on edge. But what really draws me to this show is Heston’s creativity and innovativeness (that’s not a word isn’t it?) when it comes to cooking methods and creating (quote Little Chef’s ridiculous CEO) “taste explosions”. This man is famous for creating Bacon & Egg Ice Cream and serves dishes where you can listen to the sea as you eat – literally, an iPod in a conch shell! I wanna go the The Fat Duck. I admire this man who creates such amazing food. Some think it’s all poncy. I think it is wonderful. To be that daring and creative, on the verge of seeming radical is just brilliant.

So anyway, one must have the perfect relaxing comfort food for supper. TV food. No. I don’t mean frozen dinners. I mean something you make in advance, bang into the oven and have it ready in time for your favourite TV show. That’s what I did. Also, Ben recently got offered a job in the merchant navy. We’re all delighted for him. He can finally leave Starbucks for something better paying. This is my celebratory meal for him and also my own indulgence as I love fish pie a whole lot!

When it comes to pie, I don’t like to feel restricted with ingredients. As with cottage pie, shepherd’s pie, I like to bung in whatever I have in the fridge. This time, there obviously isn’t much, hence the name ‘Anything-Sorta-Goes’. Despite the lack of funky ingredients and a smoked fish, this still turned out amazingly well. If you’re not prepared to slave away for a long time in the kitchen, leave this to a day when you can. By the end of this, although my tummy was all cozy warm and satisfied, my shoulders were aching bad!

The pictures this time round are quite horrid, I admit. The lighting in the kitchen is bad and since daylight hours are short during British winter, and my camera is the shittiest piece of crap ever, I apologize really. I can vouch for this recipe, however, as it is honestly good and I will make this again for sure. Also, this recipe has earned me a promise – YES. a trip to The Fat Duck during the summer with Ben. He’ll probably have gotten his driving license by then so it’ll be a tranquil, afraid not, more like banging roadtrip to Berkshire and some gastro-delights at Heston’s. At 125 quid for a 12 course tasting menu, I am so certain the whole experience will be orgasmic and totally unforgettable!!

*Note: The cooking time for this is about 2 hours or so. It’d be great to use 1 smoked fish to give the pie more flavour and some shrimp for a variation of texture. If you like, you can even get creative and add more vegetables like fennel and peas. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any around. So this was deviating a little from the classic fare of an average British pub/restaurant ingredients wise.

This recipe was created to serve 2 — 1 man with a bottomless pit for a stomach and 1 lady who ate two scoops of pie. I used a whole round casserole dish and a small gratin dish for this.

Anything-Sorta-Goes Fish Pie
Ingredients

Have the stock ready in a large saucepan. Bring to the boil then add the vegetables and cook for about 3 minutes or so. Lower the heat. Add the fish and cook gently for 2 minutes. Drain the stock into a separate bowl. This cooking liquid will be used to make the sauce. Let it cool. Set aside the cooked fish and vegetables, keeping it slightly warm covered.

To make the sauce, melt the butter in a heavy-based saucepan. Add the flour and stir in, letting it cook on low heat for 1 minute. Gradually add the cooled cooking liquid and stir until just incorporated. Bring to the boil, then lower heat and let simmer for 20 minutes. Add the double cream and simmer for another 10 minutes or until thick. Add the herbs, season and let cool for 15 minutes. The flavours of the herbs will infuse the sauce and it’ll thicken just slightly as it sits.

Fold the fish and vegetables into the sauce. Spoon into a large pie or casserole dish, filling to 3cm below the top. Let it set for about 30 minutes – this is so layering on the mash later will be a simpler task and wouldn’t mess up the top layer of pie.

Preheat oven 180d Celsius.

While waiting, peel, chop then boil the potatoes. Drain away the water once cooked. Mash with some butter, a little skimmed milk til smooth, and very fluffy. When the pies are set, pipe or layer on the mash potatoes evenly with a spatula, starting from the edges to seal it. Work one way round the edges and then fill the centre. Using a fork, ridge the top.

Bake 20 minutes. Then, remove from oven. Scatter cheddar cheese and breadcrumbs over the top. Bake for another 10 minutes until golden. Serve on warm plates.

Poor Knights of Windsor…really darling, I mean an Indulgent French Toast

diva — Thu, 18 Dec 2008 02:34:51 +0000

Sugar, the weather, dehydration, the evil world…I don’t know…(something!) has unleashed its terror! A spot on my nose and a spot on my chin! As irrelevant to food or to anyone else’s concern as it is, I wish only to share with others my horror and how I dissipated this frenzied alarm with plenty of orange juice, water and a plate of loveliness. And if you wanted to know, even my golden cocker spaniel spurned me when she caught sight of these f***ers on my face. Tch! Talk about true love and fidelity. It’s probably about time I chucked her out and gave food and shelter to that stray black cat down the road. That’ll teach her a lesson for mocking her spotty mistress!Right. So, moving on from spots and the psychological drama of a 21 year old and her dog, I’d like to give you the Poor Knights of Windsor, otherwise known as french toast (or eggy bread) with a dash of sherry and prepared in a slightly different way. Honestly, I like to think that the Brits are finding (once again) reason to include alcohol into yet another dish. A pudding, a breakfast meal, a snack – these knights of windsor aren’t too much or too little if you get what I mean. Also, you can have them savoury or sweet just like French crepes or English pancakes; what could be more exciting than such variety?

If you’re wondering about the name ‘poor knights’, it’s probably metaphorical — due to the fact that stale or nearly stale bread is preferred. Take something gross, unexciting and bordering on poisonous. Give it a good making-over a la Cinderella’s Fairy Godmother, and what do you get? A well posh plate of yumminess. I mean, that’s just totally genius, isn’t it? Besides, it is apparently so, that the older the bread, the better it soaks up the prepared egg mixture. Convenient! But if you’re really intrigued, the poor knights (not the Knights Templar) were really the retired knights of Edward III who accompanied the Knights and Ladies of the Garter. They were given lodging at Windsor Castle and paid a pension – the King’s way of looking after his own financially ruined but loyal knights.

Thinking of setting up some sort of themed breakfast? Why not go all out. Egg it up with Soft Boiled Egg and Toy Soldiers too? The boys should have a field day and decorating the table spread should be exciting. Check out Gomestic for really cool contemporary egg cup designs!

It is common to find poor knights of windsor made with stale white bread and I mean really good bread, even brioche, that’s gone a little stale. But it doesn’t hurt to use pretty peasant-y breads. I mean, that’s the whole point of this. So I’ve used some dusty, grimey, ol’ multi-grain bread and it actually was, to me, better than just plain white. With sunflower seeds, flaxseeds, a bit of poppy and a touch of rolled oats, there was so much more going on than just egg and sherry. What a great way to start the day with all the fibre goodness, vitamins from egg, and a shot of sugar (and alcohol) to lift energy levels for a long day. So what I’ve been trying to say is, this is good. Like real good.

If you’re still unconvinced and reckon it’s just me being all posh and snotty, fine then, grumpy. Go back to your usual french toast and miss out on this creative spin of the regular french toast (and really, I’m not just saying this cause I like my alcohol)!

This recipe yields 4 slices. Please note, typical recipes use only egg yolks and recommend that this produces a finer, homelier result but I don’t like wasting the whites so here goes all.

Poor Knights of Windsor
Ingredients

This is really the simplest breakfast or brunch one could ever prepare. I highly recommend using a good non-stick pan (I use Tefal) so as to reduce the amount of butter you use for frying. It means less mess and less calories!

In a bowl, beat the eggs. In a separate bowl, mix together the milk, sherry and sugars. Place both sets of liquid each in a deep-set plate or bowl, enough to put the bread into to soak.
Place frying pan on low heat and add a quarter of prepared butter to pan. Soak a slice of bread in the milk mixture first, gently pressing down. Carefully flip it around and coat. I like it not completely soaked in milk so as to get more of the egg mixture in the bread. Remove with a firm hand and transfer to plate of egg mixture. Repeat the process and coat through thoroughly, giving it a proper soak. Once butter is melted in the pan, quickly transfer the bread slice to pan and allow to cook about 1-2 minutes each side (this means your pan has to be hot enough). Repeat the cooking process for the rest of the slices. This will be quicker as the pan gets hotter, so stay on your feet!

Plates up once your lovely toasts are cooked. Drizzle with maple syrup and serve with your favourite fruit or jam. If you’re one for the savoury like I am, serve your knights of windsor with a good helping of salted butter, freshly ground sea salt and black pepper. Heaven!

Chinese Baozi (or Steamed Buns)

diva — Mon, 07 Apr 2008 19:16:55 +0000

I’ve never made bread before in my entire life and although I feel ashamed that I have not tried or wanted to, I have hope that in time to come I’ll find something that’ll push me to learning how to make good bread. Because, in fact, I do love my bread and all sorts of breads at that. There’s nothing quite like having fresh, warm bread with a bit of butter. But no matter how good it is, somehow, there’s a voice in my head saying bread-making is such a chore and requires so much effort, why not just leave it be and buy your bread from a good bakery? Besides, surely you’re incapable of making something so good? Probably the attempts at bread-making as a kid has left a chip on my shoulder. I’m not too sure, but that’s going to be righted soon enough! So you see, if I have a bit of a problem with bread alone, I surely cannot take on making my own Chinese buns. Nonetheless I have scored the internet for some this-is-how-my-gramma-used-to-make-them recipes and hope to try them out in the future.

The past week was spent tying up loose ends of my paper, food-blogging, updating my music library, reading, lazying about and sleeping. Not a very interesting life, except for moments where I cried at melodramatic tv shows and wished I had a steamed bun to make it better. That feeling didn’t go away for ages and thanks to that, I bought enough to last me a little over another week. That’s why people think I’m a squirrel!

Steamed buns have been around since 1800years ago and legend has it, it was invented by the famous military strategist Zhuge Liang. On a journey to South China, Zhuge Liang’s army fell ill. He thus created the ‘mantou’ which directly translated – means flour head as it was shaped like a man’s head, as sacrifice in prayer. These were then given to the soldier’s as sustenance. This is just one of the many legends about the baozi and which I had to look up on the internet because I kept getting it confused with the Legend of the Mooncake.

The mantou is probably the original bun. Slightly rectangular in shape and having no filling, the baozi takes its roots from the humble mantou. The baozi, which means wrapped-up, has the same white, fluffy bread. A step up from the mantou is its filling. Either savoury or sweet, meats of all kinds, vegetables, pickles, sweet pastes and custard fillings were the assorted buns that started to be made. And till today, the baozi and mantou are both staples in China. Great as a snack, they’re welcome at any table come any meal. The different fillings of bread buns are denoted by specific coloured dots or folded patterns on the top of the bun. Soup-filled baozi, though they look like mini versions of the usual baozi, are made with a different dough similar to that of making dumplings and filled with meat and a lard-based soup. They are then eaten with ginger and vinegar. Absolutely delish.

A very special baozi is the peach bun. Filled with a sweet lotus paste, you can get these as a normal white baozi. On special occasions or at fancy restaurants with a dim sum service, you can find these in the shape of peaches which have been coloured a bright pink. Peaches, for the Chinese, represent longevity. If you’ve read the story of the Monkey God, you’ll understand this even better (the Monkey God becomes an immortal god because he stole the longevity fruit – peach from the tree of longevity which yes, belongs to all the ancient gods). Today, not only do you get these classic flavours, fusion food and the drive to try new things have created new flavours like Green Tea buns, Yam buns and Chocolate buns. talk about excitement!

I was a fat kid in the past. Big, round chubster and that pays respect to the gorgeous steamed bun. Daddy always bought them, all my favourite ones, in bulk (I’m just exaggerating, but he did buy enough to feed the square root of our family) and kept them chilled so we could get them out whenever we fancied and steam them before eating. Daddy usually had them steamed really early in the morning even before the sun was out so we could have them just warm enough with the filling still steaming just slightly for breakfast. The steamed bun wasn’t just gastro-ecstacy for us lot, it was battle fuel before school. Brain food. A lot of my heart goes out to that humble bit of bread. What a shocker that this undecorated, simple round bun holds so much significance for not just me, but a lot of other people here, there, everywhere. I’m sure for anyone who tries it, it’ll be enough to get you thinking. However, if it doesn’t hit you somewhere in your heart, I hope at least your stomach will remember it enough to bite you in the gut sometime later with cravings for it.

Chocolate-Tea Tea Bread

diva — Wed, 02 Apr 2008 11:42:54 +0000

I think I’m a chipmunk, a squirrel or maybe a hamster. Every day is autumn season for me. Why do I say that? Becaues I stock food like supermarkets aren’t going to exist the day after tomorrow! And then I stock so much food, cans and packets of nuts or cereal boxes start falling out and attacking me the moment I open the kitchen cabinet. What’s worse, I sometimes forget about certain items which I push all the way to the back of the cabinet in my efforts to organise it. Indeed, I take after some sad rodential creature (if there is such a word for rodent-like). But my neurotic habit of stocking up food isn’t all that bad, honest!
I was on a one-week holiday in Milan, Italy last year before Christmas and on the walk towards the city centre from the Santa Maria delle Grazie which is home to The Last Supper, Steph & I had come across a little gelateria/café/cake & coffee shop Chocolat. Located on Via Boccacio 9, it is a humble little shop famous for their daring combinations of chilli, aniseed, citrus fruit, balsamic vinegar along with classic ingredients like cinnamon and vanilla with quality chocolates like guanaja, gascon, rok lait, virgole, guanaja 70. Service is top as well with friendly, cheerful ladies who aren’t bothered if you can’t speak any Italian – they’re more than happy to crawl all over the bar and up the walls to get the perfect slab of chocolate for you! If you’d ever like to visit when you’re in lovely Milano, you can click the link above which gets you to the website for more information. Best luck is to get to Cadorna tube station. It’s really just a 5mins walk away.

The ice cream was very good, probably one of the best I’ve ever tasted, keeping with the reputation of Italian gelato. Offering a very generous range of flavours, their speciality of course still lies in their chocolate flavours – all 11 of them! The best thing about all 11 flavours is that the base isn’t another flavour like you’d find in Ben&Jerry’s or other supermarket-available ice cream brands. All 11 flavours have their base in a specific type of chocolate with a spice or added accompaniment to enhance the chocolate’s own flavour. Be careful of the Dark Chocolate and Hot Chocolate flavours, however, because Chocolat is not afraid to power it up with pure, dark, bitter chocolate and it might get a tad too intense for people who aren’t avid chocolate lovers. At the Bar, chocolates and cakes/pies/tarts are neatly displayed under warm-coloured lighting. They weren’t only gorgeous to look at. The shop ladies were very generous with their samples and having tasted the milk chocolate, we couldn’t help but grab chocolates of different flavours prettily packed in printed paper boxes. Despite the language barrier, I’d managed to get 2 slabs of chocolate, a pot of pure spiced cocoa and a tin of chocolate-flavoured tea.

Yes you heard me. Chocolate-flavoured tea leaves! Which of course, the chipmunk in me had pushed it all the way to the back of the cabinet, thinking ‘yea well I’d save the best for last’. I’m glad I did that though as now I can savour the tea in a cake. The tea on its own is quite incredible. Don’t expect to actually taste chocolate in it although you do get quite an odd flavouring in it. The aroma of these tea leaves are simply mind-blowing. Infuse some leaves with hot water then remove and literally, put your face in the mug/cup/bowl whatever you’re comfortable with using and just breathe it in – it’s chocolate heaven I swear. Inspired to whip something up in the kitchen, I took that craving for Irish Teacake and shaped it into something else. This recipe has been inspired by Delia’s Irish Tea Bread recipe from How To Cook One. I might not have followed it exactly because I was itching to do my own thing. If you don’t have any chocolate-tea around, best bet is to use Earl Grey. It brings out the flavours of dried fruit real well. Note, this may be rather similar to making a teacake, however, this recipe produces a more bready loaf which is still great for tea – warm, with butter on top. If you’re looking for a real teacake, try this Tea Loaf I did a while back from Sue Lawrence.

Chocolate-Tea Tea Bread
Ingredients

Get to work the night before. Prepare the tea and soak your dried fruit (you don’t have to stick to the ones I’ve mentioned. A selection of fruit like cranberries and cherries works as well) in it with the sugar stirred in. Cover and leave overnight for it to soak. The fruit should plump up, getting all fat and juicy.
When you get up the next morning, preheat the oven to 170d Celsius.
Beat the egg with 2 tbs of milk and pour this into the bowl of tea and fruit. Mix. Sift the flour in and mix that in as well. Toast the nuts in the oven. Remove and fold this and muesli into the batter. Line loaf tin with parchment paper. Pour batter in and smooth with the back of a spoon or a rubber spatula. Bake for close to 1hr.
Remove, let cool in tin for a bit then remove to cool completely. Slice up, serve slightly warm with butter, jam or leave it naked.

Naan Bread Attempt

diva — Wed, 05 Mar 2008 19:23:57 +0000

I have to apologise for the great lack of posts recently. The end of term for me is always marked by a torrent of essays, assignments and projects. That has eaten so much of my time I’ve hardly had time to post about my culinary wars, Pancake Day, Chinese New Year and Scottish Burns Night. I will definitely find time, once these massive essays and research project are out of the way, to post up all the pictures that have been long overdue.

Naan Bread Day occurred mainly because I was itching for something savoury. Although Marmite on toast is It for me – it’s so lush, I have to admit I was getting sick of it that particular day I made naan (I don’t remember when this was either…I only remember I’d decided to really make it because I needed a break from essay writing). Watching someone make naan on TV is a tad bit different from making it yourself. You may know the technique perfectly well but somehow mine just turned out a little wrong anyway. They tasted great, that’s for sure but looked like pitta breads! That still confuses me but it might have something to do with my recipe not using any yeast at all. I’ll definitely find a more authentic Indian recipe the next time I attempt naan bread.

Here’s what I used: Flour, 1/2 tsp salt,1 1/2tsp sugar, milk n oil and some baking powder. The dough was left in a warm oven (note: not hot) for it to double in size and then kneaded thereafter till the dough became smooth and stretchy. All the time you’re working with the dough, it must be kept warm. Any dough not being worked on should be covered with clingfoil or a cheese cloth. Roll into balls, use a rolling pin and flatten out nice and thin. Place on a baking tray that’s been brushed with some water. Garnish the naan with whatever you like – herbs, black onion seeds, poppy seeds, etc. Place under the grill for 1-2min. This happens real quick so be careful not to burn. Take it out. Whip out the butter and serve!