Hispanis

Spanish Bread

I had a little time to burn on Facebook a few months ago which led me to answering a "Likeness" quiz. The point is, you rank a bunch of things in a certain category and it'll calculate how closely your answers are with your friends'. One such quiz I answered was a "Seven Deadly Sins" one. After a little deliberation about what should come up on top (hmmm), I clicked on "Gluttony." It made sense. And it's not just a matter of liking food and flavor.

You see, for some reason, we had this giant bag of 150 Candy Bars, which contained an assortment of all the flavors you see above. It was finished in a matter of a few weeks, which really shouldn't have been the case. It was just me and my dad eating it! Out of the blue you decide you're in the mood for something sweet, and you snatch one (my personal favorites are Reese's, plain milk chocolate, M&M's, and Snickers), and before you know it you're eating 3-4 candy bars a day. Not good. It's for this reason that I implore everyone I know to not give me candy bars, so at least the temptation's not there.

During the time we had to go to the province to develop community health programs, our well-meaning adviser would buy around 30 pieces of mini "Spanish Bread" for everyone to eat. I don't know what I was thinking, but once the brown paper bag got passed to me, it stopped moving and I was eating around 10 or so of them. Another instance: it was somebody's birthday and one of her friends got a 9" chocolate mousse cake and a set of plastic forks for everyone to eat during class (there were 160 of us-- no one would notice). Again, the cake stopped at my seat and before you know it, I ate a whole third of the cake. Same goes for a big bag of Kettle Popcorn, a box of custard-filled rolls, etc. Obviously I had (have?) some sort of sick addiction, and worst of all, gluttony deprives others. I'm working on it. Coincidentally, I just had a visit to the dentist today and there were no cavities, thank heavens (oi, can you beat that? 26 years, not a single cavity!), but I ought to watch it before George Harrison's warning comes true.

This is the object of my obsession, "Spanish Bread." There's really nothing to it-- it's a chewy butter-and-milk bread filled with butter and brown sugar, and is a staple of any panaderia. But it really is addictive. I've changed the recipe from the original for optimum sweetness. (I really wanted to include pictures of a trip to a local panaderia, but there was none nearby that really reminded me of my childhood-- so that's pending for now.)

Spanish Bread
I made a rookie mistake and placed the dough overnight in the fridge for rising. Naturally, since the dough has butter, it solidified. So I had to thaw it until room temperature, but I think in the end the pores suffered. The original recipe also had bread crumbs in the filling-- an unnecessary extender for home bakers, since all it accomplished was blunting the taste of the filling.

• 1 tbsp active dry yeast


• 60mL (1/4 cup) warm water


• 120g (1/2 cup) whole milk


• 112g (1 stick or 1/2 cup) unsalted butter, melted


• 67g (1/3 cup) sugar


• 2 large eggs


• 1 tsp salt


• 420g (3 cups) all purpose flour (reserve an additional 70g or 1/2 cup)


• 55g (1/2 stick or 4 tablespoons) unsalted butter, melted


• 100g (1/2 cup packed) brown sugar


• 1/2 tbsp all purpose flour


• 1/4 tsp baking powder


• Dry bread crumbs for sprinkling (about 35g or 1/4 cup at the most)

Dissolve the yeast in the warm water and set aside. In a medium bowl, combine the milk, the 112g melted butter, sugar, eggs, and salt. Add the yeast and mix well. Add the flour and mix with a strong spoon until it forms a stiff dough. Dump into a lightly floured surface and knead for 10 minutes or until smooth. It will still be a bit sticky. You can use some of the reserved flour if the dough is still too wet-- just dust your hands with a little of the flour and throw some on the surface you're kneading on, you don't want to add too much flour (don't feel pressured to use up the 70g). Alternatively, all the kneading can be done on a stand mixer fitted with a dough hook, but I don't have one. Place into a greased bowl and cover with a damp cloth until doubled in bulk.

In the meantime, prepare the filling by combining the brown sugar, 1/2 tbsp flour, and baking powder in a small bowl. Set aside.

Preheat the oven to 190°C (375°F). Lightly grease a sheet pan. Gently punch down the dough and divide into 16 portions. Roll out each into a thin circle about as big as your palm. Brush the top of each with some of the 1/2 stick melted butter and sprinkle liberally with the filling. Roll each up and place it seam-side down on the prepared sheet pan. Sprinkle with the bread crumbs and leave to proof for one hour. Bake in the preheated oven for 20 minutes and serve warm.

Read the rest of this post!

California Maki

This is my entry to the 9th edition of The Blog Rounds, hosted by Pinay MegaMom.

I transferred schools in between elementary and high school. Words can't even begin to express the sheer terror I experienced at the thought of being a new student in a prestigious private school, not to mention being almost one or two years younger than the rest of the class, most of whom have known each other for years. I was eleven then, and if you think I'm a dork now, just imagine what it must have been like for me at the cusp of puberty. Yeaahh... It's not a pretty sight. (To paint a picture: me, shorter, with bushy hair, giant eyeglasses, twiggier, and smelling of biscuits.)

It's not just about appearances, either: for some reason, there'd been a disjunction between school curricula, so Math class was talking about Venn diagrams as if they were picking up where they left off. I've never even heard of one. I remember one question on the first ever quiz: "Why is it important to learn about _____?" My answer? "Because it's included in the test?" Was my mom ever furious when she saw the corrected quiz with red marks all over. My Math teacher wrote: "No. Sorry!" (This was 14 years ago! Talk about traumatic!)

It's not just about the academics, either: my classmates' personalities were so big, some frightening, that I could feel myself just fading away. I don't think there was anything particularly interesting about myself. I deferred to their louder voices and larger presences. I was nothing like them. I wouldn't even know where to start. What have I done? What am I even doing here?!

I received a note asking me to see the guidance counselor. Fuck. Why don't I just pierce my tongue and get it over with? (This is retconning-- I didn't swear as a child and I certainly didn't know anything about self-mutilation. But the essence was the same.) I thought, wow. I've officially become a problem to someone else. I entered the room and it was Bro. James P. Dunne, a Jesuit brother who'd been a part of the school for probably decades by then, but could never shake his Irish-American-ness. He suffered from Multiple Sclerosis, and as a result had to walk with a cane. He'd become bloated, his face slightly molten, his smile, wide and insane-looking.

He told me to relax, and handed me a piece of paper written by my Science teacher. It said:

• Always forgetful
• Keeps giving excuses

Asshole, I thought. (More retconning from me.) Of course, I could have given more excuses on why my heart didn't seem to be into putting any effort, but I was so tired. I was just quiet. He gave me another piece of paper. It just had a number scrawled on it.

"Do you know what that number is?"
"No, what does it mean?" I asked back.
"That's your ranking on the entrance exam," he answered. Honestly, it could have been any number from 1 to 500, and his message to me would be the same. I have the potential to become anything I want, if I had the will to do so. But more importantly, it showed me that no one should make you feel undeserving of your place in the world. You deserve to occupy the space that you're in.

I didn't magically become cooler after that. I was still dorky old me. I was still lonely, but time after time, I'd talk to Bro. Dunne after class about music (he loved Jazz- of course-- sorry I didn't take to "Ain't Misbehavin'", though), my fears, my dreams, my hopes for the future. He even encouraged my painting by asking me to do a few works (sadly, they're all gone now). Every day, I would sit beside him at mass, helping him to stand from the pew, and when the time for the greeting of peace came, he'd always give me a hug. Even if I always struggled with being accepted by my class, he always made me feel that just being me was okay in his book.

Anyway, he died four years ago, while I was in medical school. In his last years when his debilitation got worse, he got what he always told me he dreamed of-- a motorized cart! I heard he had a lot of fun on it. I think he'd have been really proud on how resilient I turned out to be. I found my place in the world.

What does California Maki have to do with any of this? He always used to make me laugh when he vehemently claimed that the school cafeteria could actually whip up decent sushi. I would become visibly grossed out by the prospect of being served sashimi by the same place that prepares ____ in brown sauce day after day after day. But he absolutely swore by it. I never took him up on his dare.

California Maki
I've found out that California Maki refers to any roll with avocado in it. But here in the Philippines, it has always been known as a false crab and mango roll. I'm not sure what led to the substitution of buttery avocado for sweet mango, but I think it has something to do with mangoes being absolutely awesome. Anyway, I put too much rice on it, so it's a little fatter than I would have liked and the rice:main ingredient ratio is really bad. Anyway, it's my absolutely first roll. I'm sure I'll do much better next time.

Edit: I made them again and this time I fixed the quantities. Yay!

For each nori sheet, which makes 8 rolls:

• 160g (3/4 cup) cooked sushi rice


• 2 full-length imitation crabsticks (about 9 inches long)


• few 1/4" slivers of mango


• few 1/4" sticks of cucumber (I wasn't able to put this in as I'm a lazy shopper)


• 2 teaspoons flying fish or shrimp roe (tobiko or ebiko) (I wasn't able to put this in as they were out of stock)


• kewpie mayonnaise

On the sushi mat, place the nori shiny side-down with the long side in front of you. Spread the rice on the sheet as evenly as possible, leaving 2cm (3/4") of nori on the far end free of rice. On the center of the rice, spread the fish roe evenly, then place the crabstick, then the mango and cucumber, so the slivers extend from end to end. Keeping the middle and index fingers on the filling so it doesn't burst out, roll the mat with your thumbs, then compress and finish rolling. Press on the ends of the finished whole roll, then cut off the ends to neaten, then cut into 8 equal pieces.

It'll probably be easier to understand the rolling process from this site. Place a dollop of mayonnaise on top of each cut roll and serve with soy sauce and wasabi.

Read the rest of this post!

Banana Parfait

There was a recent invitation on the Blog Rounds for Filipino doctors to cite why they choose to practice in the Philippines. I obviously didn't participate, because that's not my plan for the moment: I didn't want to appear like a giant hypocrite. While I love my country and I love my home, there's still so much my young heart hasn't seen and experienced yet. One of the reasons I cook so many non-Filipino dishes is for that unique experience. In between, it's always Filipino food (and you will see some here someday, I promise). I originally meant to plate this dessert and call it "Paradise": Banana Parfait Napoleon with Chocolate Sauce. The tourism industry of this country, after all, likes to showcase this country as an inexpensive Shangri-La. However, a few things came to mind over the past few weeks.

That's the view outside my window. I described it to Ann once as butt-fugly. For some reason, city planners don't care (I don't live in a gated community, unlike many of my well-to-do friends) and my residential area is constantly infiltrated by noisy warehouses and factories. Admittedly I took that a few minutes before rain, but it's not much better with the sun up. There's an actual drum where they incinerate plastic and the fumes saturate the poor air, and worst of all, a stupid bulldozer that just runs forever-- half of it in reverse-- making those loud, awful BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! noises to warn people a hundred miles away to steer clear. I wear earplugs (thank you, Walgreens) so I can study somewhat in peace. At midnight, stupid delivery trucks come in and spread pollution, and stupid drunken construction workers bang on the gate of the warehouse (probably where they sleep, as it's far from their home) to let them in, waking us all up.

This is the other side of the house, my brother's view, which is not the street-side. I think that's an avocado tree (so much for my 17 units of Botany). Despite the rusty galvanized rooftops, the green just makes it much better. Amazing how "paradise" can change in a matter of meters.

This is the second failure of "Paradise." I originally adapted this recipe from Grand Finales, where a Banana Snickers Parfait Napoleon was adorned by a majestic puff pastry decoration. I got a little playful and a lot stupid, making a way-too-large and too-heavy decoration that more or less destroyed the whole thing. Why is that bird pecking at a giant stone with a booger on it? I don't know. Does it have retinoblastoma? Why is it lying down with its wings spread? Seriously, is that coagulated blood on the side? It was seriously a WTF moment:

that you go so far on one end of the frustration spectrum and end up on the other side, laughing it off. Never again. I unmolded the others and poured the ganache on one side. Much better. I told Jen that it must be a sign from God for me to get with the program and study already. My cooking will improve when I can focus on it.

But it was still a little too creamy for me. I think my body is now actively craving healthy food and, if you will believe me, healthier desserts (or at least cake, and not something made almost entirely of fat, like a parfait). I recorded a minimum weight of 134.5 pounds twice already, which is a good way from the max of 140 pounds I weighed a few months back. Yay for me.

Banana Parfait
335g (12oz, about 3-4 large) ripe bananas
1 teaspoon lemon juice
15mL (1 tablespoon) dark rum
200g (3/4 cup plus 1 tablespoon) heavy cream, chilled
42g (1/2 cup) sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla

Purée the bananas, lemon juice, and dark rum together. In another bowl, whip together the cream, sugar, and vanilla until it holds soft peaks. Gently fold the banana mixture into the cream, taking care not to deflate the foam too much. Distribute among 6 molds (I used plastic cups) and freeze. To unmold, dip the mold up to just below the level of the parfait in hot tap water for 5 seconds, then turn over onto the serving plate. Refrigerate until ready to serve.

The chocolate ganache is just an equal weight of boiled cream and chopped bittersweet chocolate, but milk chocolate would also be great with bananas.

Read the rest of this post!

Magic Spice Cake with Maple Penuche Frosting

I was channel-surfing for a few minutes when I chanced upon the worst talk show in the world ever, Tyra. Her guest was, uh, some food celebrity with the initials "SL". I don't want his/her rabid fans searching for her name and ending up here. Some poor woman was being featured due to her inability to entertain, and now she was behind some horrid table where some magical yellow monster (SL, perhaps?) had vomited all over it. SL asked her, "Have you ever baked a cake?" Never, she said ("I get mine at Costco"), and while I thought this is where they'd finally teach Tyra how the cake starts from flour and eggs and ends up in her belly, SL instead says "You don't have to!!"

Oh, joy. SL got a gigantic sheet cake (still from Costco) frosted white, stacked a 9" round cake on top, and littered the surface with cupcakes, candy sprinkles, and star cut-out cookies. "They have the best cakes there! Taste the icing, isn't it great?!" Of course, the poor woman sticks her finger it, takes a lick, and exclaims, "Wow, that IS good!" Huh?!

I know kids will be kids. They will probably lose their marbles upon being presented with a white shit tower, but I've never known for a kid to be disappointed with a home-baked cake, for crying out loud. Just stick an action figure on top (and it would not cost you $60 to buy). Thankfully, my friend Genie isn't a kid, so I thought I'd come to her party with a cake in tow. A little embarrassed, she texted me that it's not really her party since her birthday was a month ago, but her brother was celebrating his graduation from college and they just stuck the parties together. Eep! With a paper cone and some more white frosting, I wrote in tiny letters all over the giant "Genie": "(Belated Happy Birthday,) GENIE! Congratulations, Chuckie! :P"

I was afraid that making a spice cake would just scream "senior citizen!!" to my friends, but I quite liked it and unless they're lying, they said it was super-delicious too. Despite the fact that my decorating skills left a lot to be desired (sue me, it's my first time to use a paper cone) and the seam of the two layers was showing (clearly not the best decorating frosting, this recipe), Genie was very appreciative. Well, she better!

The rockzing Food Rockz Man also tagged me to mention seven random facts about myself. Now, it couldn't possibly be random, unless I wrote everything about myself and picked them out of a hat.

1. I am a major nerd. Proof? In high school, Magic Cards were banned. I stayed a few hours after at a friends' house so we could duel. My deck of choice was a blue/white deck which had no creatures and was built to annoy people.


2. I am a major fighting game geek too. I think few people can beat me when I'm using Chun Li. Okay, I've totally lost you all.


3. My mom watched a lot of Name That Tune when she was pregnant with me, so she attributes my dimples to the amount of George DeWitt that she saw.


4. My worst subject in school was History. I seriously, seriously hated it.


5. In addition to the usual crap shows I watch, I'm now following local reruns of Make Me a Supermodel, both the US and UK versions.


6. I've never understood fear of heights. I used to sit out on a ledge on the Math Building (third storey), just for the breeze and to get away from the noise. My fantasies involve jumping from floor to floor in a mall. Of course, it's stupid.


7. The first cooking shows I watched were Caprial's Café (my favorite for a long while), Baker's Dozen, and Biba's Italian Kitchen. I wish I had paid more attention to Biba then.

Magic Spice Cake adapted from Birthday Cakes

• 200g (1 cup) granulated sugar


• 150g (3/4 cup) packed brown sugar


• 170g (1-1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature


• 240g (1 cup) buttermilk


• 300g (2-1/4 cups) cake flour


• 1 teaspoon salt


• 1 teaspoon baking powder


• 3/4 teaspoon baking soda


• 1/2 teaspoon ground cloves


• 1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg


• 3/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon


• 3 large eggs, at room temperature

Preheat the oven to 175°C (350°F). Grease, line, and grease again two 9-inch round cake pans. Sift together the flour, salt, baking powder, baking soda, cloves, nutmeg, and cinnamon onto a sheet of waxed paper and set aside. In a large mixing bowl, beat the butter until creamy, about 30 seconds. Add the white and brown sugar and beat until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. If at any time the mixture looks oily, beat at high speed until it regains its creamy appearance. Add in a third of the flour mixture and fold in with a rubber spatula. Add half the buttermilk and stir until combined. Continue with half the remaining flour, the rest of the buttermilk, and the rest of the flour, folding until well-combined at the end. Divide the batter equally between the two pans and spin them around to flatten the top. Bake for 30-35 minutes or until a skewer inserted in the middle comes out with only a few moist crumbs. Let cool for 10 minutes in the pan, then unmold and let cool completely.

Maple Penuche Frosting
There's something wrong with this recipe. It's more like a glaze, and therefore, did not do a good job of hiding the seam of the two layers and didn't seem like an "American" cake at all, since it had no body. It does taste good (if a little grainy-- perhaps because I substituted maple syrup for corn syrup), though. If you want a neat appearance, especially on the sides, you might consider glazing the top and sides with apple jelly to smooth all around and letting it set in the fridge before giving it a final glaze of the penuche.

• 200g (1 cup) packed brown sugar


• 100g (1/2 cup) granulated sugar


• 80g (1/3 cup) milk


• 55g (4 tablespoons or 1/2 stick) unsalted butter


• 1 tablespoon maple syrup


• 1/4 teaspoon salt


• 1 teaspoon vanilla

Combine all the ingredients except for the vanilla in a medium saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium heat and boil briskly for 1 minute while stirring. Remove from the heat and let it cool to lukewarm, then stir in the vanilla and beat until thickened. Use it to fill the layers and pour it over the top of the cooled cake, smoothing with an icing spatula.

Read the rest of this post!

Maple, Salted Butter Caramel, and Pear Belle Hélène

Poire Fondantes et Glace à L'érable et Caramel au Beurre Salé

(I promise it'll be a long time before I talk about medicine again-- I don't particularly like it actually, it just fits the theme. This is my entry to the "Taste of Yellow" blogging event in support of the Lance Armstrong Foundation.) I'm not sure if they ever warned us about this, but for many health professionals, the time comes that you will start to identify people by their disease. When you look after a ward of 30-100 people at a time (it's a government-owned hospital), I confess it's much easier. What are names, anyway, compared to "the baby who had pancreatic inflammation and was always asleep," "brain tumor guy who swore at everyone," "massive tuberculosis man," etc. Everyone knows who and what you're talking about.

My first patient ever as a young clerk was a breast cancer survivor, but it had returned to her lung. In that moment of stupidity and inexperience that you almost say "It's going to be okay," or something equally frowned upon, you're almost thankful that you're too choked up inside to say it. Through her own tears she said that she's willing to embrace whatever God has in store for her, and she won't ever lose faith. From that point on, there would be no more crying about my own worries, no more feeling sorry for myself. She apparently had faith and strength of spirit enough for the both of us, and I'm glad we met. In return, she kept on dropping my name on her subsequent visits, touting me as the "handsomest, kindest doctor ever" (she never told me that, I just heard it from other people who were wondering what the hell I did for her). Ahem. What can I say, she's quite brilliant.

I encountered the senior officer who helped me do the lung drainage on the patient. "(Patient's name)'s back, and she looked just fine." My senior looked at me like I was an alien and said, "WHO?!" "Oh, you know, the breast cancer patient whose lung we drained," "Oh. That's nice." Many patients you know by disease. Some you know by name. A few you know by heart, and I'm the luckier for it.

I just recently made this very elegant (and very decadent) take on a sundae. Everything works perfectly together-- maple, walnuts, pears, caramel, and salt. Have a treadmill ready.

Poached Pears
I've seen several recipes for pears, some calling for a pinch of saffron in the water, lemons and oranges, vanilla, Sauternes, etc. But I didn't want to lose the other flavors in the ice cream (after all, maple syrup co$t$ so much), so I settled for this simple recipe. If you have very underripe pears, increase the sugar to 300g (1-1/2 cups) and the poaching time to 15-25 minutes, depending on how soft you want the pears. I just wanted them soft enough to melt in your mouth but still stand up on the plate. You can also use canned pears.

• 4 ripe pears


• 500mL (2 cups) water


• 150g (3/4 cup) granulated sugar


• 6 tablespoons honey

Using a small knife, take the core out through the bottom of the pear. Scour away at the seeds with the tip of the knife, but go no farther and leave the stem of the pear intact. Cut out a corona pattern (as shown in the picture) near the stem and strip away the rest of the peel using a vegetable peeler to retain the shape of the pear as much as possible. In a medium saucepan, combine the rest of the ingredients and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to a slow simmer and submerge all the pears (the drop in temperature will make it appear as though cooking has stopped, but don't turn up the heat-- it will start bubbling again in a while). Turn the pears at least once during cooking. I cooked mine for 12 minutes, or 6 minutes a side. Take out the pears into a deep container, then turn up the heat and boil the syrup for 10 minutes to thicken slightly. Pour this over the pears and cool completely. This keeps in the refrigerator for 3 days.

Maple-Walnut Ice Cream adapted from The Perfect Scoop by David Leibovitz

• 375mL (1-1/2 cups) milk


• 2 tablespoons sugar


• 375mL (1-1/2 cups) heavy cream


• 5 large egg yolks


• 240g (180mL or 3/4 cup) dark amber maple syrup


• 1/8 teaspoon salt


• 1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract


• 150g (1-1/2 cups) walnuts

Follow the instructions for making the base here, mixing in the maple syrup, salt, and vanilla extract at the end. Shortly before churning the ice cream, preheat the oven to 175°C (350°F) and set a rack on the top shelf. Place the walnuts on an ungreased sheet pan in a single layer and toast them for 12 minutes. Let them cool completely and chop them coarsely until no piece is bigger than a chocolate chip. Churn the ice cream base and add in the walnuts a few minutes before churning is done, or fold them in to the soft ice cream. Transfer to a freezer container and let it ripen for at least 2 hours or overnight.

Salted Butter Caramel Sauce adapted from The Perfect Scoop
If using salted butter, add only half the quantity of salt. If using coarse or high-quality salt (Maldon, kosher, fleur de sel), double the quantity of salt.

• 45g (3 tbsp) unsalted butter


• 75g (6 tbsp) sugar


• 120g (1/2 cup) heavy cream


• 1/2 teaspoon salt

Melt the butter over medium heat in a small saucepan. Add the sugar and cook until it starts to smoke and is a deep golden brown. Before this point, the butter may separate, but don't worry. Remove immediately from the heat and quickly add half the cream and whisk it in (keep distance or wear an oven mitt as it will bubble up) until only a few lumps of caramel remain. Stir in the rest of the cream and the salt and whisk until dissolved. Serve warm.

To assemble: Level the bottom of the pear with a sharp knife and set it on a plate. Add a scoop of maple ice cream and drizzle all over with the salted butter caramel.

Read the rest of this post!

Peanut Butter and Strawberry Ice Cream Sandwich

As I've explained before, I'm currently studying for the US Medical Boards, so there won't be as many entries on here until at least September. But I'm still cooking every now and then. It feels a little weird to be restudying everything for the nth time in your life, but even after the thousandth patient encounter there are still some bugs you never get to see (things that can only be found in Western countries). You just read the facts and pray that it sticks to your head even if you don't have a reference point.

Although I've only been baking since last year, I feel extremely confident when taking on a new project, which is every time (no repeats, please). However, even when you play it safe with flavors (chocolate, berries, lemons, blah blah), out of the blue you will be hit by an unknown bug and turn out a complete dud. So much for learning, so much for confidence. That's what happened with this ice cream sandwich-- I adapted it from Chocolatier Magazine. It's supposed to be white chocolate poundcake with chocolate-raspberry jam ganache and peanut butter ice cream in between, but I made this before I had an ice cream maker and there's no such thing as peanut butter ice cream here. Gleefully thinking to myself, "I'm so clever!" I switched it around and made a half-ganache-half-peanut butter mix and used commercial strawberry ice cream. BIG MISTAKE. This is why they never compare the taste of ice cream and jam-- strawberry ice cream is extremely insipid, and has little of the sharpness, tartness, and bite of strawberry jam. Peanut butter and chocolate also do not always go together. For one thing, it tasted bitter and salty and just weird. Just.... Gross all around. Maybe I would have fared better if I used milk chocolate, but I've already learned my lesson. This combination deserves a natural death. Don't let that turn you off to the white chocolate poundcake, though: even if it's my first poundcake, it still worked like a charm and tastes pleasantly sweet and milky, with a dense crumb, like good poundcake should be. Use it for straight eating, or sandwich some jam in the middle.

White Chocolate Poundcake adapted from Chocolatier Magazine

• 270g (2 cups) cake flour


• 1 teaspoon baking powder


• 1/2 teaspoon salt


• 225g (2 sticks or 1 cup) unsalted butter, at cool room temperature


• 300g (1-1/2 cups) granulated sugar


• 5 large eggs


• 110g (4 ounces) white chocolate, melted and cooled


• 2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract

Position a rack in the center of the oven and preheat to 160°C (325°F). Grease and flour a 9"x5"x3" standard loaf pan and set aside.

Sift together the flour, baking powder, and salt into a small bowl. In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment (I just used a hand mixer of course), beat the butter until creamy, about 30-45 seconds. Gradually add the sugar and continue creaming until light and fluffy, about 2 minutes. Add the eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition and scraping down the bowl as necessary. If at any time the mixture looks oily while adding the eggs, stop adding them for a bit and beat the mixture at high speed until it regains its creamy appearance.

Fold in the dry ingredients until just combined. Take one cup of the batter and add it to the melted chocolate in a small bowl and stir in the vanilla until well-combined. Return this batter back into the mixer bowl and fold until well-combined. Turn into the prepared loaf pan, level the top roughly and bake until a skewer through the center comes out clean, about 1 hour and 20-25 minutes. Do not open the oven door until the fissure appears in the center. I baked mine in a Pyrex loaf dish (we don't have metal ones of that size), so I ended up baking mine for 1 hour and 35 minutes-- just start checking early on for doneness. Cool in the pan for 20 minutes, then unmold and let the cake cool completely. Wrap tightly in cling film and then with foil if you don't plan on eating it immediately, but the cake is best eaten within a few days.

To make sliced ice cream for the filling, beat a quart of ice cream with the paddle attachment until softened, then repack into the loaf pan and freeze. When firm, slice into the desired thickness.

Read the rest of this post!

Blackberry Swirl Ice Cream

I think it has rarely been hotter in Manila. Broadcast is a high of 35°C (95°F) and a low of 25°C (77°F), but my last measurement in the kitchen was 30°C (86°F, please stop using the Fahrenheit scale). Watching the snowstorms in London I couldn't help but wonder (wow, hello Carrie Bradshaw) if I longed for the sweet, sweet misery of Jack Frost biting my ass instead of being dehydrated. As even further proof of my kitchen addiction, I worried more about whether my new ice cream maker would still work. So, I made certain that I covered all the bases: I froze the canister for at least 24 hours, I chilled the base before churning, and I churned in an air-conditioned room: a comfortably cool 23°C (73.4°F)-- considered "warm" by many a pastry cookbook I own! As the custard base spun around loosely, my fears were beginning to build until: gradually, wonderfully-- magic! And I'm talking actual magic, not David Blaine magic.


Beautiful soft-serve ice cream, ready for ripening. Not bad for a $50 ice cream maker from Costco (Cuisinart CIM-60PC, identical to the Cuisinart ICE-30BC). I couldn't stop fingering (uh... spooning?) the delightfully frosty peaks, stealing a bite here and there.

This recipe is from David Leibovitz's The Perfect Scoop, which has been garnering praise all over the blogosphere, because it is just that awesome a book. I chose blackberry swirl ice cream because I chanced upon frozen blackberries at the supermarket (I think they import it when they feel like it) and I wasn't familiar with their taste-- I wanted to make flavors that could not be commonly found in freezers here (otherwise, what's the point?). It is quite simply one of the silkiest, most delicious ice creams I've ever had, and rivals Häagen-Dazs for a fraction of the cost. I knew it was really that good when my grandmother, who disappointingly describes my desserts in varying degrees of "it's sweet" said, "MMMM! (high pitched) It's SWEET!" Har har. (It's not excessively sweet, it is just perfect.)

Mr. Liebovitz has a great online presence and I didn't (and can't, because it's my first attempt at ice cream) adapt the recipe as of yet. So instead I'm giving you a short list of ingredients and a link to his blog, where you just follow his basic procedure for making ice cream. Also, buy the book if you ever plan on making great, memorable ice cream.

(Note: The Cuisinart ICE-50BC does not need prefreezing and can churn batch after batch because it has its own compressor. However, churning takes 60 minutes compared to the 30-BC's 30.)

Blackberry Swirl Ice Cream
The ingredients are: 250g milk, 130g sugar, a pinch of salt, 375g cream, 5 large egg yolks, and 1/2 teaspoon vanilla. Follow the procedure here on how to make the ice cream base, then churn it as directed. To make the swirl, mash together 160g blackberries, 45g sugar, 1 tablespoon vodka, and 1 teaspoon freshly squeezed lemon juice until a chunky soup remains. Give this a chill. As you pack the freshly churned ice cream into a freezer container, layer in the swirl. Ripen in the freezer a few hours.

Read the rest of this post!