The Sugar Bar » eggs

It went splat squelch! at Riders Café

diva — Thu, 26 May 2011 14:45:23 +0000

School’s out. Well, sorta. Other than a few projects that have gotta be done and leftover bits of housekeeping matters, it’s all been folded up and chucked into boxes to be forgotten over the short summer break we’ve got. I am thrilled that we’ve finally got a bit of time to put our feet up, let down our hair and for me, be absolutely lazy lousy hungry like I don’t give a shit.

And that also means lots of brunches and lunches. One thing about being in Singapore is that it’s too hot to walk. I mean it. I love walking to places. It saves bus/train money, its good exercise and it’s always healthy to have some ‘me-time’, get some fresh air whilst you catch up on some of your favourite iPod playlists. But in this humidity and oppressive heat, it’s a one-way ticket to skin cancer, heat exhaustion (for me at least) and fainting spells. So it’s kinda great when people offer rides to those hard-to-get cafés and all that. When they invite you along, ride included, you do the right thing and say yes, and then, BRING THE BANTER (and the appropriate appetite).

So finally I got whisked to the Singapore Turf area where the fortunate few ponce around on beautiful horses on the race course and all that. I had a right mind to turn up in riding trousers and a Ralph Lauren polo. Tucked deep into Fairways Drive situated in Bukit Timah Saddle Club is this lovely, charming colonial house Riders Cafe. The name is simple, direct, speaks for itself and hence, exudes that individuality no other can replicate simply because. It had a nice ring to it as well.

I’d heard quite a bit about their poached eggs here (I rave about eggs benedict so I suppose it’s only natural people recommend the spots where real awesome goods can be found). That was ordered, of course. Two comely ballooned, slightly wobbly, bulbous and comely cloyingly thick molten yolks tenderly shrouded in delicate clouds of milky egg whites, precariously (I mean it) balanced atop two halves of herbed grilled tomatoes, streaks of fried bacon lazying on a bed of sourdough. [pause] And then the whole thing is just ridiculously and generously doused with hollandaise and bits of chopped parsley. Kill me now. I want to relive that again.

But before this was all sat down very elegantly before me — my eyes all this while are eagerly following every gradual fated movement of that plate’s advancement towards the space directly in front of me — one of me poached eggs decided to make a run for it before it got devoured without a care for finesse. Not so much a run, more like a suicidal backflip. But a poor attempt at that.

It went … flop, SPLAT –…–squelch…a puncture somewhere; yolk bleeding. A pool of runny yellowy orange yolk gets bigger and bigger with each millisecond that passes. ABSOLUTE SILENCE. Shock on one end, amusement on the other. The pool of warm yolk is getting to the size of my palm now and threatens to make its way close to my glass of ice water. I’m willing someone to move or say something. I think I see a bit of billowy egg white shudder. THERE’S A CRIME SCENE ON MY TABLE. Somebody do sumfing! Finally, the waitress moves. She apologises. Someone else comes to clean it up. Too late. By then, my whole table’s quaking with giggles all around and I’m doubled over, howling with laughter and grabbing my sides to stop the stitches. I’ve laughed so hard tears have actually sprung into my eyes. Hilarious! Laughter’s so infectious at this point, even the willowy dude cleaning up that murdered mess of egg can’t stop a grin from forming. Accident #1.

A fresh plate of eggs benedict arrive soon after. We wonder if both eggs got replaced or merely one. That thought doesn’t even last a second as I move in onto my plate and gently pierce the fattest part of poached egg with the tip of my knife. Like a surgeon I carefully make a small incision, then move the knife around to spread the waterfall of yoke that floods all of the bacon beneath it. The sourdough slowly soaks up the thick orange yoke. I can’t help thinking, at this point, that the act of eating a poached egg is quite so sensual; I am glad it requires an undivided attention that my focus doesn’t deviate away to check if anyone is observing me. I would not have been able to stop a blush otherwise.

Across the table, the same thing’s happening with a plate of eggs royale: the make-up of which is pretty much the same except for a substitution of bacon and tomatoes for smoked salmon, avocado and sour cream, all with a side of rocket and asparagus salad. The smoked salmon is soft, creamy and lightly smoked. A mouthful of the eggs royale (although this wasn’t my plate) I could imagine would’ve been flavourful, richly enveloped in runny yoke and reinforced with a comfortingly fluffy bite of brown sourdough. Gorgeous.

Next to me, a boy with a hearty appetite and naturally of good cheer is tucking into a plate of golden hued brioche french toast with smoked bacon, grilled bananas, strawberries and maple syrup. It smells amazing from where I’m sat, buttery, sweet and savoury with that scent of strawberries lightly hanging in the air. I want a bite of that. And I do get offered one. The brioche is so tall and nicely browned, buttered and yes, soaked with maple syrup. The bananas look gloriously caramelised although that still doesn’t convince me to like bananas. The whole dish is a plate of fireworks, its beauty is intense – the colours implore you to take a bite and he seems utterly in his own world when he tucks into it. Oh yea, he washed down this handsome breakfast with a tall glass of peanut butter & jelly smoothie…yea, you heard me right – PBJ smoothie. Intense.

Really intense.

The plates are getting cleared as I slurp up the last bits of my iced cappuccino and it appears the disaster magnet I have somewhere in my aura is still going strong. The same willowly dude picks up my plate which is pretty much wiped clean save some strands of rocket. And like a strong force of attraction between myself and anti-rust metals, the knife comes sliding off it. I could see it just aiming for my lap and my hands were too busy rubbing my food baby so I was just about to surrender my black trousers to grease and hollandaise, when this fine young man with a deft flick of a wrist caught that knife and saved me from Accident #2. What a load of drama, and all for poached eggs.

It’s like it was the damn Rape of the Lock going on or sumfing like that today. Anyhow.

We gotta go back for seconds, and dessert. There’s yet more to be explored.

French Madeleines: O! petite gâteaux à la Madeleine

diva — Sun, 05 Dec 2010 09:21:55 +0000

There are some things in life that must be enjoyed as a pair (like cookies and cream, bangers and mash, bread and butter, salt and vinegar, etc.). Madeleines fall into that category.

Not to be eaten without a cuppa coffee or tea, it would be almost criminal in my book to eat a madeleine just like that. Moreover, the best and freshest madeleines, according to French food expert Patricia Wells, are dry and have an almost dusty taste when eaten on its own. Its flavours, however, come to life when soaked in tea. I am not sure about how ‘dry’ madeleines are supposed to be but I have always enjoyed madeleines from a local boulangerie which were fairly moist. If they were at all mistaken to be dry (because I don’t think they ever quite were), they were just a tad difficult to swallow from being quite so dense.

Of course, some things are just best savoured in their place of origin. I had some lovely madeleines in Paris and I doubt my own come close but these were wonderfully buttery, fragrant and light. A real treat to the senses, especially with a fresh pot of tea livened up with a dash of milk. Indeed, the taste of a madeleine becomes vivid only when dipped in a cuppa tea, seducing you with its almost caramel/toffee-ish flavour. And is it wrong that I especially love squishing madeleine crumbs soaked in tea between the roof of my mouth and tongue?

These babies make such an awesome and cute tea treat. I’m looking forward to making a few more batches in the weeks to come as gifts for friends. And with the many variations of madeleines, in terms of flavour, out there, I’m truly eager to get going in the kitchen again.

I ain’t a perfectionist and wasn’t looking to recreate the perfect French Madeleine. Hence, I’ve chosen a recipe that includes baking powder. About the buerre noisette, otherwise known as nut or browned butter, I couldn’t be bothered. Don’t judge me, please. But hey, I got ‘em sexy humps didn’t I (see picture above)? My sis C, who wandered into the kitchen at time of baking, commented that it was like cultivating nipples in the oven. Yes it was cute to see them grow and peak, but also slightly weird to observe in the space of 10 minutes 10 portions of eggy batter become miniscule golden brown mountains.

I’ve used a recipe from the very talented Evan via her patisserie blog Bossacafez. I’ve added some tips in my directions below as well.

French Madeleines
(Recipe from Bossacafez, matcha powder omitted)
Ingredients

Preheat oven to 200d Celsius.

Grease madeleine mold with butter, dust with flour and tap out the excess. Freeze the madeleine mold before baking.

Sift together cake flour and baking powder. In a separate bowl, whisk together sugar and eggs until pale and fluffy. Add vanilla. Mix well.

Fold flour mixture into egg mixture followed by melted butter. Scrape down the sides of the mixing bowl with a rubber spatula to make sure that the butter is mixed in, leaving no oily residue on the sides.

Cover bowl with cling film and refrigerate it for at least 3 hours or overnight.

When ready, pour batter into mold using a pouring cup/jug. You may also use a spoon to fill the mold although a jug is a little less fussy. Fill the mold to fill 2/3 or 3/4 of the shell-shaped fill. Do not spread the batter out in the molds once poured in.

(I kept overfilling mine and this prevents your madeleines from growing a nice proud hump. Some bakers have recommended measuring the exact amount required to fill each shell-shaped mold perfectly but David Lebovitz on his blog here says it’s fine to eyeball it. Practice makes perfect I suppose!)

Bake in preheated oven for 10-13 mins, until puffed and golden around the edges.

After each batch, clean the pan with a kitchen towel then bake the rest. The pan should be fairly greased from the butter in the batter, requiring no second greasing of the pan.

Remove baked madeleines immediately onto a cooling rack. You can tilt them out onto it. I used a pair of chopsticks and gently picked them out of the mold. They slide out and off quite easily if you’ve greased and floured your pans well. They are quite soft and delicate when just out of the oven so I recommend using a cold plate or cooling rack with fine grids as they can leave marks on the shell shapes of your madeleines.

Once cool to handle, dust with icing sugar then eat to your hearts desire but don’t forget to dip (very ladylike, please no dunking they’re not bloody OREOs!) in a cup of tea. Whether you have milk in your tea or not, that shall be left to your own discretion.

Two Egg Inari Sushi

diva — Tue, 23 Feb 2010 18:27:16 +0000

On my days off, I am faced with mountains of readings, seminar prep work and the banal job of tidying and cleaning my apartment. That’s just dead boring. Academia has turned me into a boring fool so of course, I turn away from the books, humour myself and my tummy with one day of absolute food whoring. What that entails is travelling through London for ingredients (rain or shine – that means I gotta have a wet weather plan ready), quick coffee stop to rest shopping-bag-tired me with extra time factored in to browse some interesting shops I find along my way, journey back home to cook up a storm (or not) before the sun sets and all hopes of decent food photos are dashed.

A very long sentence that was. But it aptly reflects how much I do within the space of about 2-4hours zipping back and forth via bus or tube with a gianormous shopping bag. Pretty much a whirlwind of things happening, to do and yet-to-do, which is probably why slow walkers and confused tourists with huge suitcases frustrate me a little when I’m rushing against time (the sun set remember?). And when some hoity toity lady with a Louis Vuitton bag decides to squeeze past me onto the tube, nearly trodding on my toes with that knife-like stiletto heel and catching the wire of my iPod earphones resulting in me having to discreetly follow her until I can safe dislodge that caught wire from her handbag WITHOUT appearing like I’m trying to pickpocket her, I’m just that close to giving up and jumping into a taxi like a true diva. But that I don’t do. I bite my lip, pull my cap lower and blast up the rock music. Simply have to live within my means, don’t I?

I love going out for sushi but unknown to many, sushi is a bit of an occasion food. It’s a treat and unless it’s bento-style, we don’t really have it unless there’s something to celebrate or someone to reward it with. But it’s also a very tasty, clean food that’s popularly marketed now as a ‘health food’ or an ‘on-the-go’ kinda snack. Sometimes, I have sushi for lunch at work or if I’ve had time to prep it the night before, that goes into my bento as well. It’s not messy to eat, looks great, tastes great and cheap to prepare as well (depending on your toppings of course). And because it’s a very special treat-food, it makes me feel like I’m taking care of myself well. But what with the cold, I’ve found myself sticking to hot soups and stews of late and therefore neglecting any cravings for sushi. I can safely say my day off is now very productive – I food-shopped, I made sushi enough to feed me for 2 meals and I totally whored it out.

Was watching something the other day and this sentence stuck with me: “Food is medicine for your body.” That’s very true as food is what feeds your body, repairs the muscles, looks after your bones and organs, etc. It is essential and something that shouldn’t be avoided like the plague but celebrated and enjoyed. Of course, don’t overdo it and become a million stone baby. A good balance is what should be had. So anyway, here my post dedicated to bringing some colour/happiness (despite the grey) to the kitchen and to enjoying the simple pleasures of food which should be an occasion in itself!

In a previous How to Prepare Sushi post, you might have seen my plain inari sushi, naked but for a humble sprinkling of black goma seeds. This time, I opted for a blast of sunshine in the form of 2 types of egg topping.

Recipe yields 8 sushi.

Two Egg Inari Sushi
Ingredients
sushi rice (recipe here)

Tobiko roe is a lot smaller than ikura roe with a bit more of a crunch. Plain tobiko has a lovely bright orange colour but you can find them coloured with wasabi, squid ink and yuzu orange – the first two being my most favourite.

Ikura roe has a salty, oily flavour. If you’re a first timer to it, you might be put off by its strong taste of the sea and aftertaste. Gari sushi pickle will help remove that aftertaste and cleanse the palate.

Have used these lovely Burford Brown eggs for a denser flavour and colour

Ingredients for Scrambled Eggs

To cook scrambled eggs for bento or sushi topping I recommend using a pair of chopsticks to get that fluffy scrambled texture. Japanese scrambled eggs will differ from the usual British grub scrambled eggs which tends to be a little wetter, milkier and held-together rather than beaten and fluffed up to resemble minced meat.

Beat the eggs in a bowl. Add the sugar, sake and a little salt to taste. Beat. Pour into a heated saucepan which has a few drops of vegetable oil in it. Cook initially on a medium heat.

When the outer edges starts to cook and pull away from the sides of the pan, turn the heat down to low. Using your chopsticks, stir quickly and continuously as though whipping the eggs. When you can see the eggs quickly losing its wetness (this cooking process can happen quite quickly depending on your cooking hob), you may want to pull the saucepan away from the heat but still stir the eggs until its all cooked through and has lost all wetness. Be careful not to expose it to too much heat or cook for too long as the eggs can start to colour from being fried and become too dry.

To assemble the sushi:

Have age wraps, sushi rice, scrambled eggs and fish roe neatly prepped in front of you from left to right respectively as you’ll move from the first ingredient onto the next left to right. I use a wooden chopping board to make the sushi on as well before transferring into a bento box or plate.

Gently split open the prepared age wraps down the middle. If you’ve made these age wraps from scratch, slice them down the middle and open it carefully from the sliced side. Don’t open them all the way or you’ll split the bottom of the age ‘bag’. Spoon about 2 tbs of sushi rice into the bag and gently press and mould into the bag. As I fill it, I give the bag a gentle tapping against the chopping board to give it a nice flat bottom so that it doesn’t topple over. Ensure your rice is evenly filled so that the inari sushi can stand fairly stable on its own.

Using a pair of chopsticks, fill half the inari with scrambled eggs. Make sure you fill round the sides of the scrambled egg half so that none of the rice can be seen. If there are any empty pockets between the age and the rice, you may fill it with scrambled egg as well.

Using a spoon for the ikura and chopsticks for the tobiko (I find chopsticks are easier to handle the smaller roe), fill the other half of the sushi and make sure you’re careful to fill the sides as well so that the age doesn’t end up pulling away from the rice or have any empty pockets showing.

Fill the rest of the age wraps and you’ve got 8 yummy two egg inari sushi.

Penne Carbonara

diva — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 21:33:15 +0000

Who doesn’t love carbonara? It’s on virtually everyone’s (everyone I know at least) list of comfort food and there’s a reason why it’s there. Because it’s bloody good. Period.

And what I love so much about it is that it’s quite so easy to make and you don’t really have to fuss about with a recipe at all for this one. It’s pretty much turned into a sort of mantra in my head – 1 egg yolk, 20ml cream and good grab of parmesan per person for the sauce. Seriously easy. The cooking process is a bit tricky as you need to be coordinated and quick or something might go wrong. Frankly speaking, I wasn’t quite quick enough this time as I was texting on the phone and cooking at the same time which you should absolutely not be doing when making carbonara. Hence, my carbonara was a little overcooked and the sauce got a little egg-cooked. Another reason why the sauce ain’t as glossy as it should be! Tasted wicked nonetheless.

I don’t suppose this is the most authentic carbonara dish. And I certainly have never ordered this in a restaurant where they’ve served fresh thyme (it usually is just a creamy calorific mess on a plate) with it but I just love the flavour of fresh thyme, especially with anything pork. Also, thyme is said to aid the digestion of fat so not only does it give this dish another dimension of flavour, it helps cut through all that bacon and cream fat! Score.

The weather’s been pretty dreadful lately. It’s the beginning of winter and so the grey’s here. It’s wet, it’s starting to get really cold; at least, I noticed it more when I was further up north this week. And when it starts to get like this, all I want is something filling, creamy, hot and delicious. This has been in the making for quite some time now and after twittering with Bossacafez about carbonara and pasta alla vodka, it was time to put some work aside, cook myself a proper meal, let the hair down, put my feet up and damn well eat myself happy in front of the TV for a couple of solid episodes of Friends.

And here we have it. One smooth operator. It always goes down so well and chases any chills and blues away. Yummy.

If you want a recipe with instructions, I recommend using Jamie’s as it’s one of the easiest I’ve come across thus far. It’s a Courgette Carbonara recipe but it’s just Jamie’s little twist on the original. Click here for his recipe. Or you can simply remember these proportions per serving (I noted this down when I was watching one of Jamie’s cooking shows on TV and he pretty much cooked it all by eye and to taste. Hence, the estimates in measurements for the ingredients):

Penne Carbonara
Ingredients according to 1 serving

This is really straightforward to make and not rocket science. But it does require your full attention as a little distraction can cause you to burn the pasta or carbonara sauce, etc. Cook the pasta and have all other ingredients prepared and ready to go into the frying pan. Use a large frying pan as you’ll need quite a bit of space to toss the pasta.

In a mixing bowl, mix the egg yolks with the cream and parmesan cheese. Season with salt and pepper.

Once the pasta is nearly al dente, heat some olive oil in the pan and fry the bacon til just about golden brown. Once pasta is cooked, drain but don’t forget to save about 1/4 – 1/2 cup cooking liquid. Immediately pour the drained pasta into the cooking bacon.

Toss. Toss. Add the yolk cream mixture. If too dry, add a little of the cooking liquid. Toss toss real quick. At this point, you should have turned the heat down to low as you don’t want to burn or cook the carbonara sauce much. Keep moving the pasta so it coats everything nice and glossy. Season if need. Add the herbs and toss.

Remove from heat quickly and serve (with a generous sprinkling of parmesan if you like).

So, it’s that easy. You just gotta be alert and quick.

What’s your favourite or ultimate comfort food?

The Breakfast Club

diva — Fri, 09 Oct 2009 19:59:05 +0000

Breakfast is the best meal of the day. Fiction or fact? FACT.

Are we quite particular with our eggs for breakfast? FACT.

Is the English breakfast fry-up quite the classic morning pick-me-up? FACT.

And is The Breakfast Club simply one of the best places I’ve eaten at for breakfast/brunch? FACT. again.

So what’s on the menu? Obviously a proper English fry-up but besides that, there are a classic selection of sweet and savoury pancakes, eggers (I’ll explain), sandwiches and wraps. Not too worry, TBC is open for lunch and dinner as well so it isn’t simply a hangout for breakfast goers only.

Normally, I’d choose the fry-up or the pancakes but because everything looked all too good and the egg cravings were too overwhelming, I went down a different path this time. But before I go into what I’d ordered, let’s just say be prepared for very large portions at TBC. You can get a good Full Monty fry-up here with bacon, sausage, eggs, black pudding, hash brown, mushroom, beans, tomatoes and toast. It’s the works. And a real effort if you’re not a big eater. So be hungry if you intend to do the full monty. There is a downsized version, not so much in portion though but in the amount of ‘works’ you get and that’s the Half Monty. What you get are the cool kids that make the fry-up – bacon, sausage, eggs, beans and toast.

Even talking about it now is getting me all hungry and excited so definitely saving the full mont and the pancakes for TBC trip no. 2. And certainly worth the trip if you’re one of those particular with eggs for breakfast. These guys at TBC know what they’re doing with them and know how best to serve ‘em eggs. Can I say, the Eggs Benedict (£7.00 – picture above at top of blogpost) are too lush for my own good? 2 eggs poached to perfection, sat on top shredded ham so succulent and tasty it reminds me of hot roast pork, on toasted and buttered English muffin. Not forgetting the healthy serving of fresh hollandaise that goes all over the eggs and the crisp fresh salad drizzled with an olive oil dressing served on the side. Seriously people, the eggs were cooked the way I love. Not too yolk-drippy, so firm but not all cooked through that it’s all crumbly and powdery. The ham, which was given a bit of a golden-brown once over in a frying pan, totally made it. These guys know their pork and it’s no wonder they’ve a sign outside the restaurant claiming they did not see your missing pig!

My new fellow foodie who lives across the hall from me ordered the Eggs Royale (£8.00) with an extra order of mushroom (and boy was her mushroom a big one!). The same gorgeousness as the Benedict but with smoked salmon instead of ham. Her verdict? So very scrumptious and satisfyingly good that she needed a bit of recovery time. I was jealous of that giant mushroom on her plate. It was all oozy and juicy, just the way I love mushrooms but could definitely not have fit that in my stomach what with the uber generous portions at TBC.

I admit paying 7 or 8 quid for a breakfast might be a little bit stretching a student budget, especially when you could get the same classics for half the price at say a Scream pub or even a quarter of that if you decide to jump into one of ‘those’ good greasy hearty breakfast cafés like a certain famous Cafe Face in Birmingham. You’ll be singing a different tune once you’ve tried TBC though and you’ll understand why I’m waxing lyrical over some fairly uncomplicated breakfast dishes. The quality of the ingredients (and gosh, the ham and bacon) certainly shines through and shows how TBC can afford to name itself that as one of the big players in the breakfast scene.

Not only was the food fantastic, the atmosphere and furnishings were exactly up my street. If you’re not that much of a morning person, you want to have breakfast somewhere comfy, not too loud, welcoming and friendly enough (in terms of both interior and waiting staff) to just completely absorb you into the scene whilst you soak up some energy and caffeine? Go to TBC! I loved how there were different rooms to choose from and relax in, so much so that you felt like you were in a dream house, with a bit of time before your breakfast is served to wander about and explore. The quirky collection of memorabilia like a Mickey Mouse telephone, and random photographs of rugby or football teams made for a quietly gentle way to lure you out of your morning grogginess.

We loved the sparkly room. It’s the prettiest. Kinda like a cross between a disco room, a student pub and a Victorian-themed tea house. Well, sorta. If you’re sat outside this sparkly room by the windows facing the street outside, or by the open-concept kitchen, you’ll feel like you’re in some sort of 80s diner with the black and white tiled floors, except of course you ain’t getting the little diner tables. Here, you’ve got a collection of cute wood furniture or awesome comfy sofas, long canteen style tables and even a section that mimicks a beach side fish bar. Eclectic. Just like East London. Quirky, wacky-fied, old school and modern at the same time – just really cool. And it really helps that the waiting staff are very quick to bring you your coffees, that the food is just spot on and so deliciously satisfying.

It really looks like there’s nothing to complain about. But if I had to say something negative about it (and I’m really pushing it here), it would be that the various rooms sometimes meant the waiting staff forgot you were there which made getting the bill a bit of a tricky one. Seriously though, we didn’t care at all!

The Breakfast Club
2-4 Rufus Street
Hoxton
London
N1 6PE
Tel: (020) 7729 5252

Happy Smashin’ 21st Sam G.: A Bloody Amazing Carrot Cake

diva — Wed, 28 Jan 2009 16:55:39 +0000

Just last week, we went to see the new Underworld film – The Rise of the Lycans. The boys and I are avid fans of the film and of Kate Beckinsale. Violence, vampire action, good soundtrack and a fine woman – no one can resist that, now can they! Although she doesn’t appear in this one, the prequel, we were still pretty excited about it simply by association. I enjoyed this one thoroughly since I really liked the Lycan dude anyway, even in the previous film. The army of werewolves in the film, however, somehow brought ideas of creating an army of my very own. What did I think up?

Mating Anna’s black persian cat Mortie with my cocker spaniel Fifi. That sounds like the most horrid, sick thing to do. Please don’t be offended but Anna and I pissed ourselves chatting about this and decided a cat and a spaniel will create an army of, not Lycans, but Spatz! How cool does that sound? Someone’s gonna say ‘Maybe to a stoner’. Chances are, he’s right but man, do I think my little army of Spatz will be great fun to have around. Nonetheless, this really just stays in my head. I’m really not that into inter-breeding of animal species.

So anyway. Someone turned 21 yesterday (actually 3 people I know share the same birthday on 27th Jan) and Kid Diva did her duty and baked the birthday cake. The last time I made carrot cake for a friend’s birthday was years ago and it didn’t quite turn out the way I wanted it to. Melting in the summer heat, it was greasy, squishy and simply pathetic. This time, I truly believe I have outdone myself all thanks to Ina Garten’s recipe. This woman is a godsend! The cake was orgasmically good – dreamily moist and the flavours were fantastic. Considering I had hardly any of my bakeware from home, no sieve to sift the flour or icing sugar, ancient scruffy-looking cake tins and a shitty garbage of an oven, this cake turned out a hit. The birthday boy was grinning from ear to ear and it wasn’t strange to spot our party-goers dipping their fingers as discretely as possible into the cream cheese frosting between gulps of vodka.

The whole evening was as posh as student life can get. The recent credit crunch, however, prevented us from making a pleasant trip out into the country for a relaxed pub lunch as Sam would have wished it. Instead, we organized a nice little dinner, table cloths and all. Redecorated the kitchen, lit some candles, whacked on some posh jazz music and placed a green sign on the door that read ‘Bistro Gamper’. The whole thing was Anna’s brainchild and kudos to her. She did an amazing job preparing the pork, potatoes and vegetables, and a to-die-for redcurrant and cider gravy which I’ve already nicked the recipe of. I’ll never forget the taste of that gravy and I’m eager to give it a go myself. In fact, there’s some left in the fridge. I could possibly drink the whole bowl of it. It is that mindblowing!

Stuffed, about to pop, and feeling slightly woozy from too much food and champagne, we braved on towards pudding and the birthday song. My family’s quite the group of conservative eaters. At family meals, I’m always the only one gasping and moaning away if something tastes great. It takes quite a bit to stop me from banging on about how good it is. Last night, however, I am very pleased to say the whole table was gasping and moaning away to no end. What a fan-fucking-tastic experience that was! I am so relieved and glad that the cake was a success, thrilled that it tasted like sex and delighted that our dearest Sam is 21 and lovin’ it.

I have altered Ina Garten’s recipe just slightly – adding more spices and substituting half the amount of vegetable oil for applesauce. This was recommended by a lot people who had attempted the recipe and thought I might as well try it their way. Can honestly say this cake wasn’t greasy like the one I made years ago. It was wonderful – perfectly moist and the flavour was well balanced. I might’ve reduced the amount of icing sugar in the frosting as well. I rather enjoy tasting more butter and cream cheese then just sweetness. Come the summer, I will be making this again. It’s so beaten my infamous Guinness Chocolate Cake.

I’ve noticed a trend though. I happen to make the best cakes on days where I know I’m going to get absolutely battered that evening. I suppose alcohol doesn’t just give you a head rush huh?

Carrot Cake
Adapted from Ina Garten
Ingredients

Preheat oven to 180d Celsius.
Butter and flour 2 8″ round cake pans.

Beat sugar, oil and eggs together until light yellow. Add vanilla. In another bowl, sift together 2 1/2 cups flour, cinnamon, baking soda and salt.
Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients. Toss the raisin and walnuts with 1 tbs flour. Fold in the carrots and pineapple. Add to the batter and mix well.

Divide the batter equally between the 2 pans. Bake for 55 – 60 minutes or until toothpick inserted in the middle comes out clean. Allow the cakes to cool completely in the pans set over a wire rack.

For the frosting:
Beat hte butter til light in colour. Add the cream cheese and beat. Add the vanilla. Beat till just incorporated. Add the icing sugar and mix til smooth.

Assemble cake and decorate as you like it!

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!