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.

I think I have completely mastered the art of indulgence. It involves zero baking of my own, merely getting up at a fairly late hour mid-morning, throwing some roomy clothes on, slapping on a decent amount of concealer and makeup, a taxi ride and voila. It is the Life of Brunching. Maybe it’s the change of lifestyle ever since I moved which is a little more hectic and fast-paced now, but such indulgences (trust me they don’t happen that often) feel utterly well-deserved and I’d equate the relaxing qualities of good brunches and quality time spent with girlfriends to that of a holiday. The works. Enough said.

Just last weekend, I discovered something so glorious it had to be shared. Or rather, everyone had to have a mug each because it was ironically too good to share. Graze mocha – refer to photo above. Thick, creamy and rich; more chocolatey than most, this was so decadently good an opening to brunch. It was hard to stop after 3 gulps and put this mug down. I know I shall be craving mugs of these on cold rainy nights.

As soon as conversation started flowing (no doubt lubricated by mocha), the dishes started arriving. I loved that they all looked so simple, honest and homemade, exactly how breakfast food should be! Clean, fresh and sort of understated on medium-sized white plates.

Spanish Omelette

This was by far my favourite dish of the day. The Spanish omelette was delicious with bits of chorizo and mushrooms, topped with fresh rocket and seasoned new potatoes that gave a little sweet citrusy tinge to it all. Those little spuds really made my day, whatever they were seasoned with!

Signature Cast Iron Pan – two scrambled free-range eggs, hash browns, bacon, chipolata, baked beans, roast vine tomatoes and mushrooms

A beautiful dish to behold with that rustic feel to it. I think we girls were a sucker for the cast iron dish anyhow, considering one of us had a little cocotte (imported from France) in her handbag. I hate to admit that this resembled dirty fry-ups with my housemates on Sunday morn. It wouldn’t be fair (to Graze) to do a comparison because I mean the latter had a real variety of ingredients, better execution of the dish, baked beans that did not come out of a can and it tasted delicious. But there were similarities for sure – the whole concept of a fry-up. Graze had just upped their game, polished their shoes you know.

Eggs Benedict – two poached eggs served on brioche toast with hollandaise and two slices of mortadella

This probably wasn’t as good as the eggs I had in a recent brunch trip. The eggs were slightly over-poached and it lacked that impressive oozing waterfall of molten yolk when attacked with a knife though the mortadella was quite scrummy. It didn’t have that swollen body poached eggs tend to have, a slight wobbliness and inability to contain its insides not unlike a huge badass blister under your skin, angrily threatening to explode (wow that’s a gross analogy but you get the idea right that sort of precarious balance between a whole egg and a poached egg come undone). I wasn’t sure why the hollandaise had been browned on the top as though it had been set under a grill for a few seconds.

Scottish Smoked Salmon Bagel with Cream Cheese, Dill and Rocket

Toasted seeded bagel – now that’s something hard to find in Singapore. This was lovely and the smoked salmon has to be mentioned. WONDERFUL! Very flavourful and not at all bland like some smoked salmon can be.

Savoury aside, we come to what we saved our tastebuds for.

Old Fashioned Pancakes Stack – with berries, honeycomb ice cream and maple syrup

The pancakes were as expected, fluffy and delicious although a little thinner than we’d hoped for. But they were delightful and well paired with berries and maple syrup (hard to go wrong with such a classic combination). What we really liked was that fat ball of melting honeycomb ice cream. If we didn’t have quite so many girls around the table and I was mindful of etiquette, I’d have grabbed that soup spoon of ice cream and dunked it into my mug of Graze mocha. Bet that would’ve tasted sublime.

Orange and Vanilla Waffles – with chocolate sauce and cut strawberries

Mmmm. Need I say more? And ahm, REALLY GOOD vanillla ice cream. My heart melted just a little at the sight of those specks of vanilla seeds. The ice cream was so rich I wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d snuck some clotted cream into the mix.

And to end it all on a rosey-hued note, a glass of Libalis Rose Maetierra wine which was of a lovely shade I wanted it as a nail polish colour. Happy smiles all around, food bellies nicely concealed under roomy dresses or blouses and a slight reluctance to leave this beautifully light restaurant. As we stepped out into the street and hailed more taxis to take us to our next destination (yea a crew of fat ladies who lunch), I couldn’t help noticing this slightly lethargic but warm feeling in my belly. I realised that that was the sensation of peaceful contentment and a stomach goblin finally satiated.

Graze
No. 38 Martin Road
Singapore

http://www.graze.com.sg

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.

Even though there’s exactly 15 days to it, the Lunar New Year sure goes by too quickly. I wish it’d have stayed longer for it passed us by in a flash and left us with severe post-CNY blues and an emptiness that is not unlike that experienced right on Boxing Day. Nevertheless, the wheel continues to turn and life is getting busy once again. Work is piling, things need to be done, our schedules resume and the pace of life continues to quicken. Faster and faster we go! But I hope all of you have had a lovely rest, a wonderful reunion with families (I have finally had mine after 4 years) and snacked up good on the CNY treats.

It was such a joy (but so not a peaceful affair) getting the house ready for CNY: buying new year flowers (peonies oh I adore them! cherry blossoms, orchids, etc.), biscuits and CNY snacks, mandarin oranges, nian gao cakes, red packets and lanterns, etc.

I haven’t many CNY clicks to share with you all but here’s a few taken at one of my favourite places of all time here in Singapore – a teahouse in the Chinatown/Neil Road area. When there was a little bit of calm after the first few days of CNY, I took my family to a teahouse for a bit of peace, quiet and a Chinese tea appreciation. Just resting on the edges of Chinatown (where the new year bustle goes on strong and vibrant) we’re sat in a quiet teahouse, sitting around barefoot, sipping tea and eating little sweets and tea eggs. That’s blissful.

Going through the Duxton area, taking a stroll in the shadowy corridors of preserved shophouses, we come to Tea Chapter.

We were sat at probably the most expensive table in the teahouse, known as the Queen’s Seat, though the picture doesn’t accurately reflect that. The seat across this one is rightfully where the Queen sat when she visited many years ago. And guess who sat in that chair? Mama Diva.

We ordered tea eggs, tea jellies, a fermented oolong 大紅袍 (Big Red Robe) which was apparently a descendent leaf from the original surviving tea leaf bush. The story goes that this tea bush (out of four) had been cloaked in red robes (the colour red is very auspicious for the Chinese) sent by the emperor of the Ming dynasty because its tea had cured an illness of the Empress Dowager. Hence, it came highly recommended for the CNY period. And something else caught our sweet teeth fancy which went perfectly with the oolong….dragon balls.

Don’t be mistaken, they’re definitely not some preserved appendage of a mythical creature but they are tang yuan (Chinese glutinous rice balls) filled with black sesame or peanut paste, then coated in a fine sugar, crushed peanut and tea leaves mixture. Wonderful. The star of my day. I loved that fresh flavour of tea leaves in my mouth and this way of eating tang yuan was novel.

The day was just exquisite. A balance of sweet, savoury, umami all melded together by a tea of quiet elegance. The Tea Chapter definitely is one page I’ll be stuck at for a long time and for many more times to come, just like a chapter of a good book.

You haven’t seen me around on here much because I’ve been physically, mentally and emotionally absorbed back into college life. The past week I’ve been all over the place, gathering myself and attending orientation briefings. By the end of it, I found myself too knackered to even lift a finger. I spent all weekend blobbing around, feeling utterly lazy and sluggish. The thought of pulling out bakeware, whisk and ingredients was unfathomable! The irony of it all is that I was and am still terribly active on Twitter. So you know that if all else fails, I’m reachable via @sugarbardiva. Twitter whore. Yea go ahead and accuse me of being one, I willingly accept such a label. You won’t even spot a tinge of colour on my cheeks, I blush not at the truth.

Anyway it goes without saying that despite my busy schedule, I’ve been sticking to some good eats (when I can and when the timetable allows it). And recently I’ve become quite fascinated with this Asian dessert known as Snow Ice. It’s very similar to ice kacang which is shaved ice doused with colourful syrups over a bowl of ingredients like sweetened atap seed, red beans, sweet corn and various jellies. Ice kacang can be found at any hawker dessert stall here and make a great to-share family dessert. So ubiquitous is it island-wide that it is proof how essential ice is to our culture in order to beat the humidity and monstrous equatorial heat!

Snow Ice is a little bit trickier but not impossible to find on this sunny island and, in my humble opinion, is as, if not more, enjoyable as its ice kacang cousin. What’s the difference however? The flavour is blended into the ice itself and not doused over plain shaved ice. One interesting feature also is that the ice is shaved into a soft flowing organic-looking mountain with a texture that resembles Cadbury’s Flake chocolate. Flakey, creamy, soft and milky to the taste. Depending on what flavour you’ve ordered, the accompanying toppings create a cocktail of refreshing iced flavours in your mouth. I love it much.

Snow Ice vaguely reminds me of kakigori too but its huge variety of flavours, local and slightly more continental ones, and its unique towering shape make it a tad bit more novel. A couple weeks ago I even had one which was chendol flavoured (yes! the one with that seductive dark brown gula malacca syrup and pandan green worm jellies!). I’m glad to say I’ve got my family on the Snow Ice wagon now. We’re all converts. I mean, if there’s more ice to eat, no one can say no to that right?

In the meantime, I’ve gotta bury my nose back in the books with only the thought of more Snow Ice and pudding to get me through.

(Dear Mr Sandman, I do hope to have lovely sweet dreams of Snow Ice tonight. If I could selfishly request for a dream about a bath of Snow Ice, where I could happily eat my way through bathtime. Or if we’re getting morbid, even a quicksand of Snow Ice would be a stickily enjoyable way to die I reckon. Thanks.Bye.)

I am experiencing one mega-normous phase of purple. And right before that, I was on a seriously crazed obsessive hunt for murasaki imo 紫芋 or a substitute for it. We spent a little more on the real imported thing from Japan but they were so delicious we ate them steamed before I could figure out what I could use it for that would do it justice. The hunt for purple sweet potatoes went on forever (you might’ve noticed me wailing away about it on Twitter). For all that wailing, I very unexpectedly stumbled upon two large, stop. ‘large’ doesn’t even begin to cover it, but you get the idea. These two sweet potatoes were huge and they were PURPLE! In addition to that, they were on sale. It was like I’d shook hands with the Queen except I hadn’t, I’d merely scored a sad root vegetable which was utterly covered in dirt.

Of course I had many ideas for my sweet potatoes especially since they were rather difficult to find in this region for some reason. However, time has been a very strained factor in the past few weeks what with all the menu planning for birthday dinners, Christmas dinner, work, planning in-between shopping trips, meeting up with the best girl to find out more about her wedding plans, yada yada. Finding time to stay home and buzz around the kitchen (for my own leisure that is) has been a luxury I am ashamed to say I have not had. So I had to think up something fairly quick, straightforward, using few ingredients (I really wasn’t keen on running around the island searching for things and lugging them home like a sweaty Santa) yet delicious beyond words.

Ondeh ondeh is surely one of my favourite Malay or Nyonya sweets. They are fragrant and terribly easy to pop in your mouth. Of course therein lies the danger of ondeh ondeh, relegating it to the top of the Evil Charts (popcorn chicken, salted nuts, cheesy nachos, etc.). The original ondeh ondeh, or at least the one you find out in the shops, are coloured green from a bit of colouring and pandan juice (which is naturally a dark thick shade of green). If regular orange sweet potatoes are used with no additional food colouring, they turn out a nice shade of orange or sometimes a light pastel yellow. Whichever way they come, they’re always delicious. And why? A little bit of mochi mochi goodness on the outside flavoured with crunchy but juicy bits of grated fresh coconut, the flavour made a little more interesting with a touch of salt in the coconut, a chestnut-y flavour to the skin and a climactic burst of molten gula malacca or palm sugar which has such a taste and fragrance it’ll leave you reeling.

Convinced? A word of advise, don’t bother doing the ladylike thing and nibbling into it. Do away with all that table etiquette and Western niceties, dive in and use your fingers. With a nice expert flick of a wrist, toss it into your mouth and bite/chomp down determinedly on the ondeh ondeh ball. Experience the explosion of senses to the max.

This is a type of dish I’ve learnt where its recipe is sorta handed down from generation to generation, picked up from friends and family. As my mother says, there is really no recipe to things like this! Hence, I haven’t got an exact ondeh ondeh recipe. You kinda feel the dough and its consistency as you go along. The measurements here are a recording of my own ondeh ondeh. They are purely a GUIDE and how yours turns out will depend on the wetness of your sweet potatoes, etc. You can alter the amount of flour or water according to how soft (wet) or chewy and stretchy you like your ondeh ondeh skin to be.

Because this seems like a feel-it-up-yourself type of recipe, I’ve added pictures I took during the process of making the dough balls. So if you did feel like trying your hand at ondeh ondeh, you can compare what yours looks like to mine! Happy days in the kitchen y’all.

Ingredients

1 large purple sweet potato (420g mashed)
about 250g glutinous rice flour, sifted
2-3 tbs fresh pandan juice
enough warm water, for loosening dough (I used about 1 cup)
200g gula malacca (palm sugar)
freshly grated white coconut, no husks

A few things to note:
• I recommend using bare hands to combine and knead the dough so you can tell how wet or dry your dough is. If it is dry and difficult to combine into a ball, keep adding water but slowly and cautiously.
• dough that is too wet will result in a softer ondeh ondeh skin, meaning it’s less mochi mochi or chewy
• remove from boiling water once it floats to the top as the longer it stays dancing in the water after it is cooked, the softer and less firm it will be (sorta like ravioli – think al dente).
• if you are living in Singapore and like me, found it ridiculously difficult to find freshly grated coconut, you can find it at a coconut stall in Geylang Serai market. It’s at treasure trove of Asian vegetables, spices, preserved dried salted fish, local (and halal) butchers, etc. Or if you just wanna go DIY, instructions here. If you simply wanna do the touristy thing, go down and check out the range of bananas they’ve got: ranging from teeny weensy ones the size of a swollen thumb to humongasaurus-rex types slightly larger than my forearm!

Cut up gula melacca into small pieces and set aside for later.

Pound the pandan leaves

To prepare the pandan juice, you gotta do it the old school way. Get a huge bunch of pandan (or screwpine) leaves, give them a good wash and remove any sand or dirt that may be lingering near the roots and between the folds of its leaves. Snip off the ends which joins the bunch together then snip up the leaves into 2 inch pieces. In a pestle and mortar (if you use a food processor I won’t judge you), pound the leaves into as bitty as you can. You can do them in batches. When its pounched down well, remove from pestle and squeeze with your hands or in a muslin cloth to extract its dark green juices. This is what you’ll need to add to the ondeh dough.

Small batch ready to be squeezed for its juice

Use a muslin cloth if you’re worried about mess and have weak hands. If you’ve sensitive skin like me, the pandan juice might cause a mild itch. Set aside the juice for later.

Steam sweet potatoes (you may use the orange ones as well which would give you orange ondeh ondeh) in their skins. When cooked through, remove from the steamer and place in a large bowl. Peel off its skin and discard. Using a fork or potato masher, mash the potatoes until fine. Add a little warm water if your potatoes are rather dry and need the extra moisture to mash a little smoother.

Now add the sifted glutinous rice flour and pandan juice to the mix. Mix a little with a fork then using your hands, bring the dough together. Add water in the process to combine the dough if it is much too dry. My sweet potatoes were a dry sort and so I ended up using a little over a cup of warm water. How much you use will depend on the moistness of your sweet potatoes.

Form the dough into a ball and begin kneading. If it has a rather mouldable consistency and smooth to touch, you’re there.

Pull little pieces of dough and roll into 1 inch thick balls. Using your thumb or index finger, press down into the middle of the ball to form a hole. Be careful not to press all the way through. Place a little bit of gula malacca into the hole and pull up the sides of the dough to seal. Do not overfill them as this might cause the ondeh ondeh balls to explode when cooking. Roll the dough ball into a nice round and set aside. Repeat process until all the dough is used or you may keep leftover dough in the fridge for use the next day.

Bring a pot of water to the boil. Once the water is bubbling nicely, add your ondeh balls to the water and let it cook. It will start to dance in the water when it is nearly done. When it floats up to the surface, remove from the water straightaway. Place on a cold plate to cool slightly.

When you are waiting for the dough balls to cook, place grated coconut on a long flat dish. Add a pinch of salt and lightly toss it together to mix. When dough balls are cooked and cooled just slightly for about a minute, add them to the coconut and lightly toss about to coat them.

Then serve with additional grated coconut if you like. I place them on top of a pandan leaf which has been washed and patted dry to infuse a little more flavour into the ondeh ondeh on its last stretch before being devoured.

This time of the year, when the Christmas spirit is shining bright for everyone to see in our cities, in our homes, in our demeanor and smiles, we get out our mince pies and pass them round the table. Amidst the clinking of tea cups and teapots when girlfriends catch up and the men fuss about with carving the meats, playful banter and random storytelling fill the house like the scent of baking mince pies and mulling red wine. December is one of those months which makes one a little more pensive, a little more loving and invokes a great desire to be generous and to share.

Mince pies – an adorable tiny lil’ thing – always reminds me of this sharing spirit. A batch baked for all around the table with another rising in the oven to give away to friends or storebought for the housemates, neighbours and yours truly. They’re small, bite-sized but flavoursome and heartwarming when eaten lightly toasted. More often that not, lips and fingers are burned trying to get to the pies just out of the oven since they never stick around for long; that of course, is their one major flaw. They simply disappear too quick. A friend of mine who swears that she can bake nothing but that mysterious concoction out of a brownie mix box is actually pretty awesome with homebaked mince pies. Twice now in the past two Christmases have I had the honour of tasting her homebaked mince pies (in the comforts of her home, in front of the telly a la couch potato) which were always lightly dusted with icing sugar, made with champagne flavoured mincemeat and perfect to a T! And somehow, these were always more delicious and satisfying than the perfectly shaped, perfectly filled M&S Luxury Mince Pies.

Christmas food makes me realise how fortunate I am every year that we manage to celebrate it. When we were children, Christmas was all about setting up our plastic Christmas tree, decorating it with ribbons, bobbles, tinsel and fairy lights until the poor tree was absolutely weighted down with a heaving amount of Christmas accessories. The icing on the cake was finding the best ‘hiding spot’ within the tree to hide each others’ presents. As the years passed, our family upgraded ourselves and started faithfully purchasing imported live Christmas trees. It was wonderful. And ugh, was it expensive on our end of the globe! But Christmas time meant a mild sweet perfume of pine pervading our home and of course, that wonderful hassle of decorating it just perfectly. This year, we’ve done away with the tree with the realisation that Christmas isn’t centered around a tree. Rather, our Christmas means much to us like the Chinese Lunar New Year in which our focus lies upon the Christmas dinner, on our round dining table and in the reunion of our family. It’s the one event I never miss out on even when I’m half a world away from home. It forces me to acknowledge the fact that I have loving family members who treasure me despite my flaws, who accept everything about me and go out of the way to make sure that I am safe, happy and healthy. I count my blessings come December time, thank God for watching over me and look forward to new chapters of my life which are about to burst forth with the advent of the new year.

This year, I can definitely feel a new door opening in my life. One door has shut and although that was a terribly sad and nostalgic thing to experience, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t eager to see where this new door leads. A new year, a new journey, new people to meet and of course, new cuisines to experience. Let’s not forget that there’ll be more kitchen disasters occurring where I’m at. Nevertheless, 2011 is for me a time to kick myself into shape in all aspects of my life. That’s good news really! Expect some changes on this blog too. I hope to get it looking a little prettier, a little neater, a little better – version 2011 2.01 EX.

Meanwhile, we’re having lots of cake in the house celebrating my sister A’s 28th birthday. We have tonnes of food all ready for a big-ass barbecue – ribs, steak, chicken kebabs, etc. I’m sure the dogs will be going insane with the smell of ribs on the grill. On the sweet side of all things straight from the oven, we’ve some oddly shaped slightly awkward little mince pies lightly dusted with icing sugar. Spicy, sweet, tart, zesty and all encased in the best bit of all – the shortcrust pastry! The size of mince pies are too inviting, almost at the ready to be popped into your mouth. But try not to knock ‘em back too quick because there is much magic in mince pies. Bite into the crust and out will ooze delicious mincemeat, and a little taste of the home, the hearth, and love. Ok, now rub away those goosebumps I know I got a little cheesy, wash ‘em back with a frothy cappuccino, a chai latte or just a simple cuppa tea. And so, I’m outta here to go guard my share.

• Looking for the recipe? Recipe can be found from My Cooking Hut here who has a store of amazing recipes!

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

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

160g butter, melted and cooled to room temperature
120g cake flour
130g caster sugar
4.5g (about 1 heaped tbs) double acting baking powder
3 eggs, at room temperature
1/2 tsp vanilla bean paste
icing sugar, for dusting (optional)

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.

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