Dec 21 2010

Kasutera: Japanese Honey Cake, much like a fluffy cloud

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.


Dec 14 2010

Royal Copenhagen Tea Lounge: party in my tummy

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


Dec 11 2010

Matcha Tofu Cheesecake

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.