Some long overdue photos.

The weather here has been somewhat crazy. Terribly hot and muggy and then suddenly, we are plagued (it’s a good thing really I just think that for others, many do not welcome the rain) with days of unceasing relentless rain. Doing the laundry gets a little tricky for most. I’ve seen lots of women queueing at the laundromat for the dryers with bright blue baskets of washing. My sisters have been complaining that the air is getting more chilly and the nights are nippy. By my standard, I really do not feel it. It just feels a little less oppressive and I hope the air stays that way. I don’t mind the rain (other than it annoys my hair a little) as long as our neighbourhood doesn’t flood. Because now that, is a whole different predicament altogether.

When I was in Kyoto in June, it was raining quite a bit as well. Hence, it just sprung into mind that I should upload some of the shots taken there. A little warm it was, a little rainy some of the days in Kyoto. Honestly, the weather then is exactly the same as what we’re experiencing now. Funnily enough, the weather makes me crave for soba ~ cold soba, hot soba whatever. It’s a need. So I dug up these pictures of handmade soba I had in Arashiyama. It was really lush, and fresh, soft but firm and well-made. The dipping sauce for mine and the broth for my pal’s was really delish. Oh how I wish I were there now again, slurping soba on the top floor of a tiny crooked shop with a (somewhat blocked but chilled out) view of the river.

The shop has a lovely, quaint, shadowy upper floor with just a few tables. The ones that are by the window facing the river are quite sought after since you can see the Togetsu Bridge on the left stretching over the river. We were lucky to get 2 spaces next to some salarymen who were quite so busy slurping their soba they didn’t even notice us arriving and noisily shoving ourselves into our seats. It took my friend Mr. Patience (yes that’s his real name) quite some time and effort to fold his lanky long BFG body into the little cranny of a space, obviously designed and built to comfortably seat the Japanese male/female physique.

A lovely rest stop. Fantastic handmade soba, good view, wonderful service, not to mention lovely ceramic cups/bowls/etc. that are also for sale just under the stairs next to the till.

It might seem a little hard to find but look out for its brown exteriors on the right footpath if you’re walking towards the river. You’ll notice a little zen stone garden once past the doors. You’re there.

Yoshimura
2 Togetsukyo Kitazumenishi
Arashiyama, Ukyo-ku

http://www.arashiyama-yoshimura.com

11am-5pm Daily

*ps. Around this area, you might spot geisha…or rather, women who pay to dress up like geisha. I was tempted. Truly. Which girl doesn’t like to get all decked up in shiny silk stuff and have their faces painted!

When we ventured into Gion, one thing that motivated us was seeing the streets of this pleasure district, grabbing a few bits of traditional Japanese crafts and also seeing a geisha show if possible. One other motivation, made more intense by the summer heat, was to eat wagashi and Japanese ice. Out of three places I’d noted down to visit in Gion (for these culinary delights), one was shut, the other a little too out of the way and so 祇園小石 Gion Koishi it was! And what a precious little shop this was.

This time of the year, you start seeing shops hanging out ‘氷’ signs which basically say ‘ice’ and more often than not they will have a variety of shaved ices (kakigori) or ice creams and parfaits. Gion Koishi I hear is famous for their black sugar syrup (kokutomitsu 黒糖蜜) made from kurosato sugar which is very similar to dark molasses but we weren’t so much intrigued by black sugar at all. Instead, we wanted anything and everything green and matcha-related!

Here’s what we tried and it seemed everybody else around us (school-kids and adults alike) were all ordering and eating the same thing, most of them in complete silence. It was like stepping into the dark recesses of a sacred cave and joining fellow pilgrims in the humble and elaborate process of licking their wooden spoons off of matcha ice cream, shiratama and kanten jellys. What an atmosphere! When eating something rather sinful, I sometimes do it alone in the dark in the privacy of my bedroom and scoff it down like a real animal. Here, in Gion Koishi, feel free to do the same and wash it down with cups of hot hojicha. You don’t have to feel embarrassed. Because everyone is sorta doing the same, with the occasional hum of satisfaction.

Matcha Chiffon Parfait 抹茶シフォンパフェ – ¥1050

This was the best matcha parfait I’ve ever eaten in my life! I’ve never been this happy with ice cream before. Generous scoops of vanilla and matcha ice cream, shiratama mochi in both plain and green tea flavours, kanten jelly, a Mont Blanc-like mountain of kuri (chestnut) paste, adzuki bean paste and slabs of fluffy matcha chiffon cake. Oh, and whipped cream. Yea, a real list of ingredients and a real tall glass of it all. Mine. Consumed. The experience? Totally beyond words, indescribable.

Wagamama-gori Uji (green tea syrup) わがまま氷の宇治 – ¥970

Next up, what Gion Koishi is notorious for! Their Wagamama (literally meaning selfish) kakigori is just a bowl of surprises this one. It may look more like a luscious green mountain with an egg yolk on the top than a luxurious dessert but this was one real refresher. The shaved ice is heavily doused with a bittersweet matcha syrup, topped with a candied chestnut (love these things!), sweetened adzuki beans and underneath this promising heap of ice lies a bed of kanten jelly, light and sweet. Who needs mints to wake you up when you can have a whole bowl of kakigori to yourself.

Now I merely wish teleportation was possible. I’d throw myself into the fireplace and teleport every evening for the best dessert Kyoto can offer.

Gion Koishi is on the north side of Shijo St (四条通り) about 1 min walk from the gate of Yasaka Shrine (八坂神社). If you are walking towards Yasaka Shrine, it’ll be on the left side of the street.

Think it’s chocolate? Think again. Look harder. It’s actually a dark shade of purple.

What’s that? Yea I know. Don’t you raise your eyebrows at me! I haven’t gotten over that purple phase yet. Seriously, I’m gaga-fied by it. Utterly completely totally besotted with the shade and the vegetable that can produce such a hue by very natural and earthy means – the purple sweet spud aka purple yams aka beni imo 紫芋 aka okinawan purple sweet potatoes. Cheshire cat grin.

A dear friend of mine from Chiba felt some of my pain about a month or so ago when I struggled to find a cheap variety of these spuds here. I ranted so much I reckon I might have burnt her ears right off or if I exaggerate a little less, probably melted them down. She, being the nice girl that she always is (bless her heart), sent me 400g of beni imo fumatsu 紅芋粉末 (and via express EMS mail at that!). If you understand the matcha concept, you’ll get this. It’s simply purple sweet potatoes roasted and then ground into a fine powder or funmatsu. I believe there are grades to this just as matcha does and that will determine the vividness of colour of the powder and its cooked outcome. Mine was one of a dark mauve shade in its raw state and so the colour wasn’t as vivid as I hoped it would be. Neither did it look as stunning as Junko Fukuda’s in her cookbook but hey, I’m not complaining because it was still visibly purple!

This pound cake I thought was pretty snaz, not just in terms of colour, but in terms of flavour. The use of goma dare, commonly used over tofu salad as a dressing, was interesting. I quite worried that this cake would be way too savoury and it smelt like it would be as I was mixing everything up. I have a penchant for using exotic ingredients whenever I can because it just feels a little more risky and exciting. I know Mama Diva will dislike this right away because it probably tastes way too weird and non-traditional for her. It definitely needs some getting used to but the deep and rich roasted flavours (of white sesame seeds more so than sweet potatoes) really come through in this pound cake. A dark yet earthy and vegetal fragrance from the beni imo is also quite evident. The scent of beni imo powder strangely reminds me of dark cocoa (the texture and fluffy ‘jumpy’ nature of the powder itself resembles cocoa powder too!) and the altogether nutty creamy taste and textures from the white sesame sauce with roasted nuts make it quite an appetite-reviving bit of cake.

Yet again I’ve gone purple and although this is one simple loaf cake, it contains just an edge of the weird and wonderful. An interesting flavour combination and a bit of an eye-opener but rather delicious. And GARH it sure did take away from the frustration I was experiencing due to a college fudge up this morning. I’ve never looked upon my electric mixer and pantry cupboard more affectionately than I did today. What stress-relievers they are. Bake, and let’s hope for a better day.

Note: This cake DOES NOT MARBLE ON ITS OWN like other marble cake recipes. The two separate batters must be added together, given one quick circular stir then transferred to your greased loaf tin. The batter isn’t as agile or active as we’d expect it to be. Between soymilk and firm tofu, this would be the latter.

Beni Imo & Sesame Marble Pound Cake 紫芋芝麻大理石磅蛋糕
(Recipe from 我♥和風洋菓子 – Japanese Title: 和スイーツの本 by 福田淳子 Junko Fukuda )
Ingredients

60g unsalted butter, softened
40g white sesame sauce (goma dare)
50g caster sugar
2 eggs yolks
1 tbs vanilla extract
1 tbs milk

2 egg whites
50g caster sugar

10g cake flour, sifted
50g beni imo powder

50g cake flour, sifted
black & white sesame seeds, for garnishing

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

In a large bowl, beat softened butter for about a minute. Add white sesame sauce (goma dare) and 50g caster sugar. Beat until it is creamy and lightens in colour.

Add an egg yolk one at a time, beating in between. Add vanilla and mix. Split the batter into 2 parts and add 1 tbs milk to one part of it. Mix to combine.

In a small bowl, combine 10g sifted cake flour with beni imo powder. Set aside.

Prepare egg whites: Using an electric mixer, beat egg whites until it starts to froth. Add half the amount of sugar (25g) and beat for a bit more. Add the rest of the sugar when it starts to whiten and continue to beat until egg whites begin to form soft glossy peaks.

Add 1/4 of beaten egg whites to the batter with milk. Whisk to combine. Add half of the beni imo flour mix and beat. Then add another 1/4 of egg whites to the mix and whisk. Finally, add the rest of the beni imo mix and whisk to combine.

In the bowl containing the batter without milk, do the same. Add 1/4 of egg whites to it and whisk. Then add 25g cake flour and whisk. Add the final 1/4 of egg whites, whisk followed by the remaining 25g cake flour.

Add this onto the beni imo batter. Using a spatula, very gently give it ONE circular stir to mix (and create that marbling). Pour into your prepared tin, smoothen the surface and place in preheated oven to bake for 35mins. Remove from oven thereafter when cooked, or when a skewer inserted comes out clean, and leave it to cool in the tin completely.

The first ever homebaked cake I received (birthday cakes not counted) was a butter pound cake when I was in primary school. Right, I ain’t being totally honest with you because I so didn’t receive it. Out of greed, I paid a classmate just under ten bucks for the ingredients and her time in the kitchen to prepare one just for me. (Would you believe it if I told you I was a bit of a school bully in kindergarten? I bullied boys, never girls mind you) At that time, we didn’t own an oven, only a hand-me-down Japanese microwave. I was young and didn’t know how to bake then. Cakes weren’t a common thing for us in my house either. In fact, they were equivalent to rare yeti sightings. Far, few, and almost…well, impossible to spot! We were only allowed them on birthdays when our parents would splurge a little on a ridiculously over-decorated and over-iced cake. It didn’t matter that the cake was often more cream than sponge, mightily topped with cloyingly sweet jelly pops – a dentist’s nightmare. Nonetheless, that to us was the most special, most beautiful most wonderful cake in the world. Of course, in my childish understanding, it almost felt like a round structure of cream, sugar dusting and sponge was the utmost expression of my parents’ love for me. I know better now that’s for sure but it isn’t strange to think that a cake could stand for so much. It’s symbolic power is immense, especially to a child with a wonderfully innocent and simplistic mind.

To slice your own over-embellished birthday cake with Mama’s hand to guide you was such a precious feeling. I can feel a sigh of nostalgia just bubbling up at the back of my throat. I can’t quite forget the taste of those cakes of my childhood. And I can’t forget the taste of that beautifully buttery, dense and vanilla-ry pound cake I received back in primary school. You know how all things rustic and homemade get to me.

The memory of this cake, the demand-and-supply nature of our friendship (between that girl baker and I), the simplicity of a butter cake are all things engraved deep in my mind, heart and tastebuds. A cake of simply and few ingredients; it reminded me of other equally simple and basic cakes such as yellow cake, a butter cake, a pound cake, a British madeira, a plain chiffon, a Chinese steamed cake. They are different types of cake but essentially still cake! And cakes very accessible to everyone because of their basic and non-exotic components. Think of them as essential as a cream cardigan. A wardrobe necessity, even more so than the LBD and ever so hard to fault. And then it occurred to me how I loved them all, whatever the rendition of cake, as much as I love different types of photographs such as the beautifully styled ones, the soft-focused ones channelling the aesthetics of vintage photos and of course, the well-lighted macro shots of food (as you can see I’ve cheesily tried to achieve the above ‘types’ in this post’s photographs).

I love the fanciful cakes available in patisseries, the delicately decorated and styled birthday cakes, and sure enough, things like macarons and whoopie pies, etc. BUT. My point is, there’s something mysteriously heartwarming and humble about a slice of cake produced from just a mere few ingredients. And to pay homage to how the combination of few ingredients can produce something quite so delightful and life-changing is this post on Kasutera, a cake that oh-my-dear doesn’t even use butter!

Kasutera, a Japanese honey cake otherwise known as Castella in English, is a cake derived from the Portuguese pao de Castela. I know not much about the history of this cake except that it is now a Nagasaki specialty and often found in wagashi stores or in the sweets section of Japanese grocery stores. It’s light but its flavour is unique, fragrant and very likeable, thanks to the honey syrup it incorporates.

I’ve been terribly eager to give this recipe a go. It was well-received and according to my parents who sat about tasting them forever, kasutera tastes like a non-butter cake of their childhood! I felt very flattered and quite pleased to have brought a slice of their good ol’ days on a plate to savour. But also rather envious of the variety of sweet treats they might have experienced back in them days.

This cake is simply delicious despite being uncomplex. It is light as cotton fluff and with zero butter in the mixture, feels slightly less decadent and a little more ‘healthy’ to eat. Unfortunately, when removed from the oven with a plate left to flatten the top for 5 minutes, one shouldn’t leave it to cool too long in the cake tin. Once the cake is no longer oven-hot but warm enough to handle, remove from cake tin and let it stand on a wire rack to cool. The consequences of doing otherwise (as mine is proof of that) is a cake that is soggy, a little sunken and difficult to slice. Shame on me for trying to do more than two things at once!

I will be making this again and again until I get it right. Minimal ingredients, batter tastes amazing no matter what and quick to whip up. There’s no excuse to say no to round II. Practice makes perfect anyway!

Kasutera カステラ
(Recipe from 我♥和菓子：57 wagashi recipes – Japanese Title: かんたん！和菓子レシピ by 山崎彩 Aya Yamazaki )
Ingredients

2 eggs, at room temperature
80g caster sugar
15g raw honey
10ml water
60g cake flour
15g coarse brown sugar

Line the bottom and sides of a small loaf tin with baking parchment. Sprinkle coarse brown sugar in an even layer on the bottom of the tin on top of the parchment paper.

Preheat oven to 160d Celsius.

Lightly mix the honey and water together in a small bowl to form a thick syrup. Set aside.

In a bowl, beat eggs with an electric mixer until fluffy. Add the sugar and beat on high until the mixture pales and thickens. The mixture should be ready when the electric whisk leaves a slow dripping, thick trail when lifted, taking a while to disappear into the rest of the batter. (after reading more recipes for kasutera, the general feedback was to whisk for a long time until soft peaks are formed, around 15mins; I think I whisked mine for about 5-7 mins. Will give this method a try next time round for a fluffier cake.)

Mix in the honey syrup. Then sift in the cake flour (you may want to double sift this cake flour before adding to the batter) and lightly beat this in. Set aside the electric mixer, using a rubber spatula, use the folding method to gently mix until incorporated. Ensure no pockets of flour are left.

Pour the batter from a high point into the prepared loaf tin. Use the rubber spatula to slice the batter in the middle from top of the tin to the bottom in a straight line. Then, using both hands, pick up the tin and lightly tap the bottom on the table to release excess air bubbles.

Place loaf tin on a flat cookie tray and bake in the oven for 30mins, or until cake tester when inserted comes out clean.

Once baked, remove from oven and place loaf tin on a wire rack. Top the cake surface with a piece of baking parchment and place a long flat dish over it to keep the cake surface flat for 5 mins. Thereafter, remove the dish and parchment paper and let cool in the tin for a little while (another 5mins thereabouts) until cool enough to handle with your hands but still warm. Tip the cake out from the tin, baking parchment and all. Place the cake into a plastic ziplock or using clingfilm, wrap it up. This is apparently to seal the moisture within the cake. Letting it cool completely standing on its own will dry out the cake a little.

To serve, use a sharp knife and make 1inch slices from the cake. Carefully slice away the sides to reveal the inner crumb. Be very neat when slicing, because obviously I ain’t at all.

I’ve been feeling the need to rejuvenate myself lately in every way possible. Even as I type this post, I’m listening to my favourite electro remix playlist on iTunes and am literally replaying each taste of cake in my head. It’s kind of a funky experience. Maybe future tastings of cake for me should be in a soundproof room, ALONE for maximum satisfaction, with professional headphones stuck on blaring house music as I clink clank away on plates and chomp down on petite gâteaux. No? Ok, I’ll hide that thought somewhere else along with my deepest darkest desires.

Royal Copenhagen. A proper noun that sends pleasurable shivers down my spine. And of course, makes me think of terribly feminine and beautiful vintage china. I miss the utter decadence and quirky pop eccentricism at Sketch with their vintage china unembarrassingly showing signs of use. Royal Copenhagen is a little more slick but the cakes were delicious! The service was level-headed and friendly. The room, an oblong-shaped space tucked away awkwardly into a corner of the ladies’ department nonetheless was a nice respite from manic Christmas shoppers. With a backdrop of glass-clinking and delighted chatter soft and bubbling like a glass of Möet, a room awash in crisp sunlight inducing you into a state of airy-fairy frou-frou lightness much like the kiss of a butterfly, afternoon tea begins on a carefree note (plus, you start to realize that size doesn’t matter at all – this is in reference to this oddly shaped tea lounge/cave)…

“There was an Old Person of Rheims,
Who was troubled with horrible dreams;
So, to keep him awake,
they fed him with cake,
Which amused that Old Person of Rheims.” ~ Edward Lear

The past week, my sleep was a tad bit troubled. I was (and actually am still) having a few odd dreams, those that leave you waking up puzzled and constantly mulling about what it meant. My latenights were also giving me unsightly dark eye circles, pale skin and a general lethargy about me. Someone mentioned, who cares about latenights when you’ve got cosmetics?! That’s true. I’m none too bothered about the amount of concealer I go through in a week but oh, something was just missing in my day to day goings-around. So when a friend suggested a cake day-out, I jumped at the chance. I was so glad to go to tea! It felt like ages since I had a good tête-à-tête with those things magically made from flour, fat, eggs, sugar and cream. Ahhh…What better to make one feel a little more alive than the sugar high petite little cakes provide?!

If I could, I would’ve eaten my weight in everything sat behind the cake counter. That’s me talking some crazy I know. Although it sure is hard to be sensible when one has a severe case of sweet teeth (plural or singular?). Imagine if one fine day all cake maniacs were to let themselves go and you saw me right at the frontline of this lets-eat-all-the-cake-in-the-world campaign, I’d make the tabloids in the most disgusting way known to humankind.

We managed four cake slices on our visit to Royal Copenhagen. I thought that was pretty impressive. Each mouthful was slowly savoured but not without wishing that each taste could go on forever. I’m blushing now as I’ve just realised my own greediness – 2 out of 4 cakes were chosen because I insisted I must have matcha cakes or something that’s green. I’m glad my cakemates humoured me. Bless ‘em. Here’s what we had:

Key Lime Pie ~ creamy and melt-in-your-mouth

Chocolate Earl Grey Mousse with Caramel Ganache ~ rich. dirty rich.

Matcha & Morello Cherry Cake ~ this was simply beautiful; gorgeous flavours with a moist denseness from possibly ground almonds & polenta

a personal favourite whatever the rendition ~ Matcha Tiramisu

The last two were of course my favourite. I’m drawn to anything green, purple and black sesame flavoured. I’m fairly simplistic that way I suppose. The key lime tart was also something real jazzy, resulting in a party in my tummy. Delicious, smooth with a good mix of sweet and tart.

Once the final crumb was licked up, I felt like an old car with a fresh engine, purring away and all revved up for the next roadtrip. All I had to do really was give my heels a quick polish, pop on some pearls and off I go. If you hear me complain about tiredness this week, remind me that it’s time for cake! It sure is the best fuel to keep me going for a while.

Royal Copenhagen Tea Lounge
Takashimaya Level 2
391 Orchard Road
S 238872
Singapore
Open Mon-Sun 10:00-21:00

I’m not gonna lie, I honestly thought this was going to be a failure. I was ready to sink into depression like a cake deflated and ruined. Thankfully, things worked out for the better. And so life carries on as usual.

After a blender disaster and an overly buttered crust that baked to a crisp (I followed a recipe quite blindly without doing the proper math therefore resulting in a crust with double the butter), I was sure this was doomed. Fortunately, following the advice of Marc of NoRecipes to let the cheesecake sit for possibly a day longer, this worked out fine. The parched crust absorbed enough moisture from the cheesecake filling. The layers gelled and the crust became more manageable. It tasted good too with a lovely smooth and fluffy mousse-like texture. The tofu flavour needed some getting used to and the matcha wasn’t strong enough to be really that noticeable but it’s definitely something I’d try again and tweak it as I go along to perfect it (until Mama Critic deems it worthy of her taking another spoonful). Also, I’d definitely use soy milk fresh from the markets in the future rather than the cartoned stuff from the supermarket because it lacked a little bit of that soy umami and the thick, creaminess of the former.

So here it is. Simple, naked for all to judge. I didn’t think it needed any more fussing or additional garnishing etc. The flavours worked. Besides, I thought it’d gone through enough – from being bashed up in an inferior blender, exploded in a slightly better blender, to being dripped all over the kitchen and completely let down by a messed up crust. That’s it.

Anyway, you can imagine my relief. A cheesecake saved from the bin. And somehow, still tasting pretty damn swanky.

Shame about the hole in the wall where I bashed my head into though. Expect repair works some time around end of 2011 until the state of my finances picks itself up again and the bits of my sanity return back to its mothership.

Tiny kitchen drama, Twitter to the rescue, overreaction controlled, etc. – story of my life. End of.

This recipe makes one round tin cheesecake. I’ve altered the measurements for the gingernut crust thankfully.

Matcha Tofu Cheesecake
Original recipe of filling from Manggy, inspired by Okashi Treats
Ingredients

For the crust:
250g tube packet of gingernut biscuits
4 tbs caster sugar
1/2 tsp salt
5 tbs butter, melted and cooled

For the matcha tofu cream:
225g Philly cream cheese
1 tbs light brown sugar
70g caster sugar
225g silken tofu
50g heavy cream
50g sour cream
2 tsp powdered gelatin
100g soy milk
2-3 tbs matcha (or to preference)

Line bottom of cheesecake tin (preferably springform) with baking parchment or light grease it.

Crumb gingernut biscuits. Add sugar and salt and lightly whisk together with a small egg whisk or fork. Add melted butter and mix until combined. Transfer to cheesecake tin and press down into a nice even layer of bottom of tin. You can bake this in the oven 190d Celsius for 5-10mins or simply place it in the freezer for 15mins to bind (I prefer the latter).

Combine all ingredients for the matcha tofu cream, except soy milk and gelatin, in a blender and mix until smooth.

Sprinkle gelatin over soy milk and let sit for a few minutes. Then melt it in a baine marie (or in a bowl over a saucepan of simmering water on the hob). Stir to dissolve completely, then process it into the rest of the tofu cream.

Pour complete tofu cream into the cheesecake tin and refrigerate overnight until set.

To unmold, warm the sides with a warm towel and use a thin palette knife to separate the cheesecake from the tin around the edges before unlocking the springform pan.

Serve chilled on its own or with a little bit of whipped cream. The flavours don’t need much else and will delight you quite pleasantly with a mild bitterness of matcha, creaminess of soy, honeyed sweetness from both white and brown sugar and a distinctive savoury and gingery flavour from the crust.

Japanese sweets and pastries (traditional, modern, Chinese and/or French-influenced) have a very soft spot in my heart and a welcome place in my belly because they are so known for being light, delicate, subtle, understated and adorable in every sense of the word. It’s like a fluffy teddy bear or a frou frou lace skirt or a pastel-coloured cone of cotton candy. And where do I normally go to for such indulgences? Sun Moulin Japanese bakery. I love this place and my whole family’s a big fan and loyal frequenter.

But after returning home and finally being able to suss out the good, new, and sometimes modern eats available on our sunny island, I’ve discovered more Japanese pâtisseries and am so pleased to see them around and about! Ladyironchef, a local blogger with a notorious sweet-tooth, introduced me to Pâtisserie Glacé. There’s no turning back now. The melting of soft, cloud-light choux cream, the fluffiness and airiness of chiffon and the use of simple lush ingredients like strawberries, mangoes and paper-thin crepes (yes I’ve researched their menu). I’ll be going back to Glacé for a lot more.

Things we tasted? A Mont Blanc モンブラン comprising a gorgeous chestnut cream or paste if you rather with lovely thin noodle-like strands sat atop a cotton-soft chiffon platform. Could not resemble the Swiss Alps in any way (this baby was about the size of my palm!) but very beautiful and memorable. I won’t forget the pillowy softness of the chiffon and that velvety smooth chestnut cream which was garnished with tiny bits of roasted chestnuts!

…and the Chiffon Cup was another interesting thing we licked up. A tofu chiffon served in a paper cup with fresh cream and puff pastry. I am digging the fact that this chiffon’s main ingredient is TOFU which I adore completely and tend to eat raw and cold during the summer. This was delicious and has only piqued my appetite for Glacé’s organic green tea tofu chiffon cake. A return trip is much needed.

AH, a post that’s meant to be short and sweet, just like Glacé is. A humble hole-in-the-wall type of pâtisserie in the Icon Village but with much to offer in terms of little gâteux; no seats or standing bars in sight save an amiable agreement with a kopi (coffee) shop around the corner for hungry diners to tuck into their cakes seated. Simple, short and sweet. That’s all there is to it. Oh, and so heavenly light and more-ish.

Pâtisserie Glacé, ダイスキ!

Pâtisserie Glacé by Chef Yamashita
12 Gopeng Street
#01-33/34 Icon Village
Singapore 078877

http://cakeglace.com

In Asia, we have a love affair for things chewy, stretchy, glutinous or as the Taiwanese describe it, QQ. Not surprisingly, Su-yin and I take much delight in things mochi so when she shared me some homemade mochi cakes (recipe here), I was hooked. And after patiently waiting for her recipe to be blogged, I decided it was imperative that I try my hand at making these QQ little treats too to satisfy my recurring cravings and the incessant need to gnaw. And because some things just come as BUY 1 GET 1 FREE, this recipe is flexible and allows you free reign to be fairly creative with your choice of ingredients.

It recently came to my attention that there was a Kansho Matsuri in Japan, translation: a Sweet Potato Festival; what goes on there I do not know so enlighten me if you do. Nonetheless, I think we can all agree that the Japanese are cute and meticulous with their food, and how dedicated they are to such a humble ingredient! My pessimistic soulmate Y (now sharing a dirty flat with his younger bro in Tokyo and hating it) will correct me, say I’m being ridiculous and declare all Japanese people mad. I wonder why we get along so well like maple syrup and pancakes. Call it coincidence, fate or whatevs, we are going through a similar sweet potato phase in my house and the little voice in my head was suggesting we go in the direction of baked sweet potatoes. But that on its own, although delicious with honey and coconut milk, is a tad boring and might not hold your attention for long.

I’ve used Japanese sweet potatoes here, purple-skinned and of the yellow flesh which has a lovely sweet, buttery and chestnut-like flavour. I thought this might be better for a mochi-based cake since the regular Western sweet potato (orange-fleshed) tends to be a lot wetter/watery and sometimes less sweet. And you know me, after the colour green (hence the matcha), I’m drawn to purple like a kiwi bird is to shiny things so purple-skinned spuds for the win!

A very basic and popular way of eating sweet potatoes is to steam them after washing, leave to cool a little and then break them in half to share and eat with friends and family. Some other ways it is served is to have it steamed, skinned, soaked in syrup and coconut milk – another type of sweet yam, the tapioca, is served this way in my country and is so delicious and fragrant you almost feel drugged on a couple of mouthfuls; or cooked in sweet soups, savoury soups, desserts, etc. The variations are countless. A favourite bakery of mine also makes these very light and delicate steamed white cakes – it’s like eating a cloud for goodness sake – and it has little bits of steamed sweet potatoes in it. You can say that’s probably what inspired these cakes.

We all know the health properties of matcha already, that it is vit C-packed and so forth so I won’t bother to expound on that. But of course, FYI, when subjected to high heat like when baking or scalded by boiling water, matcha loses all of its amazing properties. Therefore, a word of advice is to use regular cooking grade matcha for baked goods and save the real ceremony-grade stuff for drinking. With regards to sweet potatoes, you’ll be pleased to know that they are pretty resilient babies. They aren’t just vitamin-packed and easy to cook or scrummy in anything. Sweet potatoes are rich in dietary fibre and because they contain loads of anthocyanoside, is good for bringing down high blood pressure, effects of constipation and is apparently great for the skin (not surprised, its vit C eh!). Plus, they are cheap and great at staving off hunger.

So maybe what I’m trying to say here is that my main ingredients aren’t too naughty? Does that make my mochi cakes less sinful? You decide.

So how did these turn out?

Because the steamed sweet potatoes added a bit more moisture to the cake, I had to bake them a little bit longer. I was half tempted to let these cakes dry out more in the oven, seeing as I’m not used to baking with mochiko (rather than boiling/steaming/grilling) it. These cakes upon pulling apart looked like muffins, with a similar consistency and lovely fluffiness but it is thoroughly deceiving because the cake is stretchy, chewy and almost glistens with its glutinous content. Delicious, moist and very different to the regular cupcake/muffin (might take some getting used to for mochi virgins). That chewy bite, soft but with a little resistance, is also satisfying and slightly more-ish. The taste was pretty good and that surely is the work of evaporated milk but one thing I would never ever use again, and all of it going down the drain right now, is vanilla essence! I hate that stuff and do not know why there are still bottles of that stuff in my house.

The smell of it reeks and I might have used a tad too much for these cakes in my desperation for a teaspoon of vanilla. Mistake.

Vanilla essence fail. Ignore that, and these QQ mochi cakes are still rocking it.

Matcha & Sweet Potato Mochi Cakes
(Recipe adapted from Lemonpi, inspired by Suyin from BreadetButter)
Ingredients

225g mochiko (mochi flour)
85g unsalted butter, melted and cooled
about 1 1/2 cup of steamed kansho (Japanese sweet potatoes), cut into small pieces
175g caster sugar
187g evaporated/Carnation milk
2 eggs, at room temperature
3 tsp matcha
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp vanilla extract

Wash and gently scrub the sweet potatoes being careful not to scrub off its precious skin. If your potatoes are fairly large and bulbous, you might want to pierce a few holes on it with a fork before steaming. Bring some water to boil in a steamer. Steam potatoes until they are just cooked through and not too mushy. Let cool on a place and set aside for later. When it is cool to handle, cut them up into small cubes or pieces.

Preheat the oven to 175d Celsius. Grease a 12 cup muffin pan or line with muffin papers.

Sift the mochiko, baking powder and matcha together in a bowl.
In another bowl, whisk the sugar and eggs together with an electric mixer on high speed until light and fluffy.

Fold in melted butter, then the evaporated milk and vanilla. Fold in the flour mixture and the sweet potato pieces until just incorporated.

Pour cake mixture into muffin tin, filling it up to 3/4 full. Place in oven to bake for 20-25 mins. I found my muffins a little wet and baked it for another 5 mins. Cool on rack completely then store in an airtight container.

After the red velvet, kuromame (black sesame), matcha and kinako, my one other love is sweet potato! Particularly, the elusive and rather expensive purple-fleshed variety. Many regard the sweet potato as a wholesome and vitamin-stuffed carbohydrate, a lovely alternative to the regular spud in bangers and mash or a flexible ingredient used in both savoury and sweet dishes or snacks. For us, me & my family & Singaporeans in particular, sweet potatoes are a very humbling edible root. And they are symbolic of the Japanese Occupation during WWII.

Sweet potatoes were (and for some, still are) a common root vegetable grown in back gardens, etc. A hardy root, sweet potatoes can grow in many types of soil and rarely need pesticides. It is commonly known to us as belonging to that category known as ‘poor man’s food’. But like all poor man’s food, they are not only cheap and easy to grow and cook but delicious as well. They lose very little of its beneficial elements after cooking too. Both the root and its leaves can be eaten. Sweet potato leaves fried in belachan is a common Malaysian, Singaporean nyona dish that’s fragrant and quite gorgeous.

During the Japanese Occupation when rice was scarce and rationing was implemented so as to feed starving families, people were encouraged or forced to use whatever land they had to grow tapiocas, yams and sweet potatoes. However, sweet potatoes were the most commonly grown and the one root that is to today still almost immediately associated with WWII. As my gramma says, it was a sweet potato for breakfast lunch and dinner every day of the week and sometimes there wasn’t even enough to go round. There were even some people whose legs swelled up and became too painful to walk from such an imbalanced diet and malnutrition. Today, although sweet potatoes form the basis of many delicious treats, desserts and savoury dishes, when cooked in the most simple way – washed and scrubbed, then steamed and broken into 2 to share amongst family members – they are symbolic of the pain and suffering our ancestors (living or dead) had to go through during the Japanese Occupation.

On a lighter note, a favourite Chinese dessert of mine is the sweet potato ginger sweet soup. My maternal gramma once cooked it for me after a day at kindergarten but instead of using the local orange-fleshed sweet potato which can be found at all markets and bought for cheap, she’d used a purple-fleshed sweet potato that on cooking had dyed the soup a light pinkish purple. As I remember it today, it was a REAL treat! How different that soup was and although it didn’t exactly taste vastly different, its vibrant colour certainly gave it a special twinkle. Somehow, as the years have passed and I’ve grown up, finding these purple-fleshed potatoes are like searching for a needle in a haystack. My father, who used to have a little farm patch of his own and had started growing vegetables and sweet potatoes as a young boy of 12, reminisced of his days of attempting to grow the perfect purple potatoes.

Unfortunately, these purple potatoes are ridiculously hard to find here in Singapore. Instead, Australian orange-fleshed ones and the yellow-fleshed purple skin Japanese sweet spuds are increasingly popular in local markets. The purple-fleshed spud is nowhere in sight, not even a trace! Nevertheless, these purple spuds which are known as murasaki imo in Japanese are also hard to find even in Japan, being only available at certain times of the year in select supermarkets. Over the weekend, we were lucky to stumble upon these at Isetan which bring these in only once a year. They timed it well I suppose, since it coincided with their Okinawan food fair.

You can imagine my happiness…to have found my purple Queen once again.

Beni Imo Dango (Deep-Fried Sweet Potato Dango)

Sakura Daifuku with Anko Filling from Sun Moulin bakery

And with these treats we took home, I proudly declared it tea time!

Now, to fully and very completely satisfy my purple imo cravings, I need to go find me this! Pocky…oh, it shall take me back to my childhood and high school days – chomping down on stick after stick during a boring lecture. Bliss. Next on my agenda: find a way to plant these beautiful spuds in my own garden. With our ridiculously hot weather, fertile soil and green-fingered parents, we might be able to successfully harvest my purple Queens.

I met up with Alessio and Hilda at William Curley a while back. When I first moved to London, William Curley was one of the first few cafes/chocolatiers/patisseries I heard about but somehow never found time to head that way for a little look-see. It’s a bit out of the way considering I lived in the East but when I stopped by, I was enchanted. It’s a charming area speckled with beautiful furniture and chandelier light shops. I would’ve stopped to take some photographs of these shops but it was raining a little too persistently for me to fuss around in my bag for the camera. The rain, the grey and the puddles; maybe it was because I was leaving but talk about sympathetic background!

Bursting into William Curley a little late and windswept, shaking off the rain and putting the brolly away, the humble shop draws you into its comforting embrace. Warm yellow lights, a welcoming interior, ice cream and little sweet treats to delight. Not to mention Hilda’s little papoose. I seriously think she might be the cutest toddler I’ve ever met!

A chocolate ‘statue’. What an artwork! It was intense. Made all of chocolate, gold-painted and garnished with gold foil. I stuck my nose in real close to have a good look because I’m curious like a cat. This might have made the lady behind the counter terribly nervous. She warned me it was all chocolate and to be careful for it was very fragile (which I knew of course). But pardon moi, the hungry crazy eager look in my eyes must have triggered a few warning bells in her head.

Cheese Soufflé Tart • チイズ　スフレ　タルト

Tropical Entremet

Matcha & Kinako ice cream

I love eating ice cream in the summer. But love it especially when it rains, or snows. Strangely, the inclination to have ice cream when the weather is a little colder becomes so much more of an itch I just must scratch, or die. May have been a wee bit of a shameful affair to say that my first order at Curley was ice cream when there were so many exquisite little gâteaux available. I wasn’t let down anyhow. Kinako is gorgeous. I didn’t quite realize that kinako in ice cream would be quite so velvety and luscious.

William Curley was just about the last café stop in London which was a neat way to round it all up. But big love also to Hurwundeki which stole a few bits of my heart and robbed me a little bit of my soul.

•••

In Cambridge Heath, under the railway arches, hides not a nightmare or a monstrous troll…

The chugging of trains past and used vintage furniture shivers with the routine passing of people with places to go, people to meet. “Train terminates at this stop. All change please.”

And so I move in back with the parents. Home sweet home.

(**last 2 shots were taken on 120mm film on my Diana F+)