Summer Fruit Bavarian

While doing my usual rounds of the food blogs, I came across a banner that intrigued me: it was from BlogHer, asking us (you?) if marketing to women is all about stereotypes. I couldn't quite remember the content of the articles I read from that link, but one writer was lamenting about a sparkly pink candy "just for the ladies" (I can't remember if this is the article I read about the controversial candy bar called "The Finger") while another one, about a "misguided laptops-for-women site." I found myself agreeing with the content of the articles, and of course I am for gender-neutral advertising, for the most part. But don't think men have been dealt a better hand.

Just watching a local cable network here, "Maxx" (probably your equivalent would be SpikeTV, Americans), where I get my daily dose of The Daily Show and The Colbert Report, all the ads are geared towards men. The tagline is "get away with it." Away with what? Oh, watching extreme sports, bikini-clad computer-generated anime females that I hope are meant to be older than 21, references to wanking, beer, infidelity, pugilism, poker, and yes, we prefer women to be dumb (and biting their nails for some reason). Why is The Daily Show and The Colbert Report (among other comedy shows) here? Because laughter apparently requires testicles.

On the other hand, you have the Hallmark Network (a subsidiary of Lifetime Television), where there is a ribbon threaded through every ad, and comedy is channeled through "The Nanny" (which I actually like-- before they got married). While I was at the gym, a Lifetime movie was playing, and I think I have the necessary elements down pat:
1. lead character is a woman
2. mother
3. wedding
4. sister
5. regret in life
6. road trip
7. tequila
8. neglectful man
9. "don't you just wish you could... break out/let loose?" is uttered
10. makeover
11. illness
12. crying
13. tantrum
14. someone gets wet in the rain
15. redemption.
In my movie's case, 1 is Dany Delany and 2 is Doris Roberts.

So, do we ask for these stereotypes? Do we enjoy them? Are pink ponies on your laptop or monster trucks merely us trying to fill some need in our childhood? Why can't advertising agencies get over the fact that we aren't boys and girls any longer? Well, to answer the question of the banner-- yes. Advertising is all about stereotypes and demographics! They wouldn't have been hired if they didn't know their markets (well, apparently they took it too far). But then again, I wonder how bland a world that is truly gender-neutral would be...

ANYWAY. I know it's only ridiculously hot in some areas, but let's be thankful for small favors, people getting rained on :) Amazon has an ongoing promo-- up to 40% off on select ice cream makers. My favorite models (from Cuisinart, arguably the best home ice cream maker makers) are included.

Check out the blackberry swirl ice cream and maple-walnut ice cream I made, both from The Perfect Scoop.

Now, this is one of my favorite recipes from Tartine-- I have served it three times and it always elicits a satisfying gasp from the crowd. It is undeniably feminine in its prettiness, but watch as your elegant guests plow through it like hobos. The chiffon cake recipe from the book is a keeper-- never flopped once, and it is delightfully soft, light, and mild. For my peeps in the South, check out Lisa's post on Steamed Gingerbread Pudding coming early next month.

Summer Fruit Bavarian adapted from Tartine
Chiffon Cake

• 160g (1 cup plus 2 tablespoons) all-purpose flour


• 1 teaspoon baking powder


• 150g (3/4 cup) sugar


• 1/2 teaspoon salt


• 55g (1/4 cup) vegetable oil (I used canola)


• 3 large egg yolks, at room temperature


• 88g (6 tablespoons) water


• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract


• 3/4 teaspoon grated lemon zest


• 5 large egg whites, at room temperature


• small pinch cream of tartar (1/8 teaspoon if you must)

Line the bottom of an 8-inch cake pan or ring (at least 2-1/2 inches high) with parchment paper cut to fit exactly; don't grease the pan. Preheat the oven to 160°C (325°F).

In a large mixing bowl, whisk together the oil, egg yolks, water, vanilla, lemon zest, salt, baking powder, and 125g (1 cup and 2 tablespoons) sugar until combined. Sift the flour over this, at the same time whisking until very smooth.

In another large mixing bowl, beat the egg whites until frothy, then add the cream of tartar and beat on medium-high speed until it holds soft peaks. Add the remaining 25g (2 tablespoons) sugar slowly while beating on medium-high speed until the whites hold firm, shiny peaks. Add a third of the egg whites and fold into the yolk mixture to lighten, then fold in the rest of the whites until just combined.

Pour the batter into the pan and spin it around to flatten the batter. Bake until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean, about 30-40 minutes. Let cool in the pan on a wire rack. Once completely cool, run a thin knife around the sides and invert onto your hand (a little crust loss is okay since it'll be covered with cream, but you may also invert onto a sheet of parchment sprayed with baking spray if you wish), then place right-side up on a platter. Measure the height of the cake and split it horizontally into two layers of equal height. Carefully separate the layers (I used the bottom of a tart pan).

Bavarian: prepare the pastry cream in advance, or earlier in the day to give it time to cool.

• 250g (1 cup) milk


• 1/2 vanilla bean


• small pinch of salt


• 2 tablespoons cornstarch


• 58g (4-1/2 tablespoons) sugar


• 1 large egg


• 27g (2 tablespoons) unsalted butter


• 3/4 teaspoon gelatin


• 1/2 tablespoon water


• 250g (1 cup) heavy cream, very cold

Make the pastry cream: In a small saucepan, add the milk and scrape the vanilla caviar into it, then throw the pod and salt in. Heat the milk gently, whisking constantly, until small bubbles start to appear on the sides. Remove from the heat. In a small mixing bowl, whisk together the cornstarch, sugar, and egg until a paste is formed. Pour the milk into the paste in a thin stream, whisking madly all the while. Return this to the saucepan and place over low heat, constantly whisking until the bubbles just disappear, about a minute. Immediately remove from the heat and place into a cool bowl. When it comes down to about 60°C (140°F), whisk in the butter until incorporated. Leave to cool completely, then place cling film flush against the surface and place in the fridge.

In a small dish, sprinkle the gelatin over the water and let stand for a few minutes. Take 60g (1/4 cup) of the pastry cream and heat it in a microwaveable bowl at LOW in 10-second intervals, or in a heatproof bowl over simmering water until it is hot to the touch. Remove from the heat and whisk in the gelatin water until smooth. Whisk in half the remaining cold pastry cream until well-combined, then the remaining pastry cream.

Whip the cream using a cold bowl and beaters until it holds medium-stiff peaks, then fold in the pastry cream mixture.

Fruit Puree

• 85g (slightly more than 1/2 cup) berries-- I used raspberries


• 25g (2 tablespoons) sugar


• pinch of salt

Combine the three ingredients in a blender until smooth.

Assembly

• 150g (1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons) heavy cream, very cold


• 2 teaspoons sugar


• 285g (10 oz or a pint) berries or cherries, or 340g (12 oz) peaches, apricots, or nectarines, or any mixture of both

Whip the cream and sugar using a cold bowl and beaters until it hold soft peaks.

Use an 8" cake ring or springform pan to assemble. Line the sides with plastic wrap, or as I did, a strip of food grade acetate. Place a cake board cut to 8" diameter on the bottom, then the bottom layer of cake. Brush this with half the fruit puree. Spoon on half the filling, then arrange the fresh fruit over this (if using strawberries, start with the sides, using halved strawberries). Dump the remaining filling over this, using an offset spatula to go over the surface to make sure there are no large air pockets. Place the top layer of cake over this push lightly over the top to compress the filling. Moisten the top layer with the remaining fruit puree. Frost the top with the sweetened whip cream, taking care not to bleed the color of the puree into it (spoon the cream over the whole surface, then fix it with an offset spatula). Refrigerate for at least 4 hours. Unmold and remove the plastic wrap or acetate before serving.

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Lemon Chicken

Sitting on my virtual desktop I actually have a text file that contains several topics I think I may eventually want to talk about on the blog. Whenever I think of something and it turns into an essay in my mind, I file it there just so my food, for some reason, can have a pinch of loopy in it. However, looking at the file and scouring my brain for any sort of content I want to accompany this dish (it also determines the subtitle in the picture), I realize I didn't want to talk about anything at all. I am aware that sometimes you probably don't feel like reading or commenting on anything except the dish, and sometimes I just go on and on not realizing I didn't say anything about the dish. Oops. Well, today's a good day because this one's a no-brainer. Aaah!


I keep talking about how the first cooking shows I watched were Caprial's Cafe, Baker's Dozen, and Biba's Italian Kitchen (and something I'd rather forget, Cooking with the Urban Peasant). But I just remembered that that's not true: the first cooking shows I ever watched, and probably the case for most Filipinos my age, were Wok With Yan (with Stephen Yan) and Cooking It Up With Nora. The former is US-produced and I'm sure it rings a bell with a lot of you. I loved that show. He'd ask us to put 3 tablespoons of oil (cups?) in the wok, and for that he'd pour a smooth stream from his little pitcher of cooking oil in a circle just within the circumference of the wok's bowl, a circle for each tablespoon (or cup?). At the end of the episode, he'd carve a swan or an Eiffel Tower or Buckyball out of an apple or carrot for garnish.

Come to think of it, I can't remember a single episode where he didn't fry anything. I don't know what happened to Stephen Yan (he was eventually replaced on my television with the less charismatic but goofier Martin Yan in Yan Can Cook), but I hope his efforts to try to appeal to "American" "Chinese" tastes did not result in intractable hyperlipidemia.

I don't know who started what but there was this movement to just coat everything "Chinese" in thick cornstarch batter and serve it with a sweet glop. This version of lemon chicken is not that. It is all-natural, has no day-glo/ radioactive colors, just the right amount of tart and sweet, comes together in almost no time at all, and is delicious to the last bite without making you feel ill. Honest lemon chicken that tastes of actual lemons. Who knew?

Lemon Chicken adapted from Chinese food master W.K. Leung's recipe on the eGullet forums (the link has a step-by-step pictorial.)
You may also use 360g (1-1/2 cups) packaged lemonade (Minute Maid or such) and the juice of one lemon in place of the lemons, sugar, and water indicated in the recipe.

• 670g (1-1/2 pounds) chicken breasts, filleted (2 breasts. You may leave the skins on, but I took them out.)


• salt and fresh ground pepper


• 1 large egg


• 50g (6 tablespoons) cornstarch


• 50g (1/2 cup) unseasoned bread crumbs (dry or fresh, doesn't matter much. Use panko if you like.)


• 4 lemons


• 50g (1/4 cup) granulated sugar (you may use even less sugar if you want a tarter dish.)


• 10g (1 tablespoon) cornstarch

Using a meat tenderizer or food mallet, pound the chicken breasts to flatten them. Cut each breast into 4 pieces and season with a little salt and pepper. In a small bowl, beat the egg lightly. In a skillet, heat about half an inch of cooking oil over medium heat (I didn't take any temperatures, but you'll want a light sizzle on a bit of the of breadcrumbs tossed into the oil). Coat each piece of chicken in a cornstarch (use the 50g quantity), slapping off the excess, then dip each into the egg, then coat completely on both sides with bread crumbs. Shallow-fry each piece for about 3 minutes on each side, then park onto a plate lined with paper towels.

Juice the lemons, saving 2 thin slices of lemon for garnish. Add enough water to the lemon juice to make 360g (1-1/2 cups). In a small nonreactive saucepan over medium heat, add the diluted lemon juice and sugar, stirring to dissolve. Let it boil and reduce to half the quantity, about 10 minutes. In the meantime, stir together the 10g cornstarch and 1 tablespoon water in a small bowl until dissolved. Add the cornstarch slurry into the reduced lemonade and stir together. Let it boil until it reaches the desired consistency-- I waited for the sauce to hold a track drawn by my finger on the back of a spoon dipped in the sauce, about 2 minutes.

Place the chicken on a serving plate (cut them up into bite-size pieces if you wish), and pour the sauce over. Garnish with the lemon slices and serve immediately with plenty of rice.

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Tales of the City (San Francisco Part 4)

"Is San Francisco still boring?" A friend of mine asked when I told him I was there, and it totally short-circuited my brain because I have no idea how anyone could think that. Granted our trips there were years apart, but in my opinion it's one of the liveliest places I've seen (not that there's anything wrong with peace and quiet-- they both have their benefits). Perhaps it's because there's been considerable growth of the food scene in the interim. I'm posting this slightly ahead of schedule to give Caitlin a better idea of what to expect or search when she goes there. As it turns out, it opened my eyes to even more things I still want to see/eat when (not if, hopefully) I return! (... and please don't badmouth my anonymous friend, I won't allow it.) Above is a photograph of the always-lively Sur La Table at the Ferry Market Building.

Here are only 3 of the walking routes I took searching for my food treasures. What I don't show is the Southern route I took walking from the 24th St. Bart station to the murals, and the Northern route I took from Westfield, through Chinatown, Transamerica Pyramid, and North Beach to meet Marvin for Italian. And yes, these walks take between 30 minutes to an hour at normal pace, not counting stopping and taking pictures. It's the uphill part that kills me!

Here's a serendipitously dramatic shot I took from the platform of the Muni. (Yes, the photo is altered and cropped so the thoughtful-looking young man is brought to the fore. My other candidates were the old couple in front, but the man was wearing earphones. Funnier than it was dramatic.)





Last year, Thip recommended Yasukochi Sweet Shop. I'm glad to have gone there, partially because it brought me to Japantown, which is just about the most beautiful area in downtown San Francisco (see, I do like peace and quiet). I saw Paper Tree, a great Origami and stationery specialty shop. Yasukochi Sweet shop is located inside the Japanese grocery, and it's not quite what I envisioned (which was dorayaki, mochi, wagashi, pan), but a simple, humble bakery. I got the blueberry turnover, and it was looovely, taste tickled my mouth-- but it was not blueberry. I'm not well-versed with more uncommon (non-commercial) American berries, but it could have been Boysenberry. So I love you, anonymous berry.

Walking a little further, I saw La Boulange, which contained Bay Bread. I was excited to try my first canelé, but oh! There was a huge air pocket inside. I don't think that's supposed to happen, and of course Duncan confirmed it for me. I did love the rich caramelized crust and the sweet, slightly eggy center, though. And the pear and cranberry tart was perfect-- all the way down to the soft, yielding crust.

My hidden Southern route also brought me to Omnivore Books on Food. I'd already maxed out on cookbooks in the weeks past, so I wasn't able to buy anything, but there's plenty of imported (still English) books, but the main attraction is I think the antique books. Also, Flo Braker, my baking hero (since I watched her on the Learning Channel, she reminded me of my Botany teacher) was scheduled to give a talk, but I could neither buy a book (even if I didn't have to), nor did I have the time (it was my last day in SFO).



The Western route takes you through Paulette Macarons, and it is arguably one of the best shops for macarons in the United States. And how could it not be, since all the staff was French and they were following Christophe Michalak? The violet cassis, raspberry (OMIGOSH), and dragée macarons were out of this world, but the caramel salé one was a wildcard-- it seemed a little harder than the rest (even if the taste was gorgeous). The staff was also fantastic and allowed me to take as many pictures as I wanted.

I wanted to eat good dimsum (though I hear it's still not as good as Vancouver), and for some reason instead of Daly City's Koi Palace, me, my aunt, and my grand-aunt ate at Ton Kiang-- but the food was still top-notch for me. It turns out, I can't get my relatives to eat certain things ("YOU DON'T WANT DUCK?!?!") so I was ridiculously stuffed! I mean, look at that duck! We also had nol mai gai, ha gao (can't NOT!), jin doy, siu mai, chow fun, golden fried squid, and mango pudding. Man, I wish I could teleport all the food I couldn't stuff into my face anymore right here right now. The third good dim sum recommendation is Yank Sing, which was unfortunately closed when I went (afternoon, you see).

Another place I really wanted to eat in last year was Saigon Sandwich Shop, and man, did I discover WAY too late in life the thing that makes Todd and Diane sing. I'll be VERY impressed indeed if there's a better banh mi out there. Satisfying lunch, marred only by having to listen to some aggressively boring girl talk about auditioning for The Real World even though she think she's too cool to know what it's about. (Never heard of it, yet auditioned. Really now.) There's only one table inside, so have somewhere to sit-- Jefferson Square and Japantown are nearby. Best cheapest lunch, ever!


My aunt also wanted me to have a slightly more upscale dining experience (even though I have crowned myself king of cheap dining options), so she took me and my uncle to Absinthe Brasserie and Bar and of course I wished I drank! But the meal was nothing to scoff at-- I had the frisée, baby leeks vinaigrette, house-smoked bacon, fried duck egg, fines herbs, and caviar (my first time!), which was out of this world (but probably Tuesday for Heather). Also here is a slow-cooked pork shoulder with beans, flatbread "pizza", squash soup, panna cotta with meyer lemon gelée, blood orange sorbet, and warm chocolate and banana tart with roasted banana ice cream. Sublime from start to finish.


The Eastern route is something I wouldn't recommend without a car, because the walk from the Civic Center to Patisserie Philippe is crushingly boring, unless you consider empty buildings scenic. The walk back, which led to the Museum of Modern Art and some cute coffee shops along the way, was much better. I ordered the "Obama" entremet (heh), which frightened me a little because it had coconut mousse, but I'm pleased to say I quite like it. They could've improved their macaron recipe, though. I didn't try them but they were seriously lumpy, I didn't want to!

One more restaurant we ate in was Crab House at Pier 39, which I realize is a huge tourist trap. I enjoyed the salad more than I did the crab-- sorry, but it's just way too expensive ($100 for four people just for the crab), and I've had better (cooked by my grand-uncle, also in San Francisco).

So, that's most of the memorable places I ate in San Francisco. More notable ones include Marnee Thai (one of the best Thai restaurants in California, and great prices too), Castro Tarts (recommended by Celia, the owner of Omnivore Books, though I didn't go), and a few more I wasn't able to go to: Pizzeria Delfina, El Tonayense (a very good taco truck), Zuni Cafe (went last year), Shalimar (Pakistani food), Slanted Door, Pagolac, A16, Liguria Bakery, Tortas Boos Voni, Shin Toe Bul Yi, Incanto, and Piperade. All for next time!

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Paella

Susan once told me over at Twitter that she imagined I wasn't a problem child and gave my parents no headaches. That's probably true... To some extent. I didn't hang around the kids in my neighborhood (plenty of cousins to keep me entertained), didn't get to any fights, and was quite content to stay indoors and draw away on my sketchpads, and a bunch of other introverted hobbies like origami or listening to music.

The Beatles's, specifically Ringo Starr's Octopus's Garden. So cute! I would play it for you on the piano but it's just me goofing around and freestyling.

But what they didn't know was during the school-year (this was in elementary/primary school), I'd ask them to stay behind later at school so I could hang out with my friends. That wasn't prohibited, but I knew if they knew what I spent my time doing was straying a few blocks outside the campus to play video games, they'd put the kibosh on it. Not that playing video games wasn't allowed, but they would've probably died of fright if they knew I was outside the four walls of the school. A little justified given the area outside a school would be where most predators would hang out, but I didn't care much.

It was a great feeling to hang out with friends and kick butt in Street Fighter 2 or Mortal Kombat (or a game I always insisted on playing but in hindsight, was pretty terrible: World Heroes). I wasn't really enjoying defying my parents (much less lying to them), but for an hour after school most days, I could be nearly care-free (imagine that? Schoolwork is a care! Oh little Mark, if I could tell you what I know now!) and just do regular boy stuff. Besides, it's not like my grades slipped even a little.

What was funniest about it is that these shops weren't doing anything illegal (they were renting out use of Super Nintendoes), but they had to be so dimly lit it gave that impression of danger! It's not like they were handing out drugs to kids. There were truants hanging around, cheering on the best fighters. I felt like I was so cool! And just recently, nearly 15 years after I graduated elementary school, I was at a mall in New Jersey where young people were having an official Street Fighter 4 tournament, trash-talking and cheering on the challengers. I smiled. You guys aren't even that good, I thought to myself.

... So, what kinds of naughtiness did you enjoy when you were a kid? :)

Anyway. The two pieces I folded above are from Origami Sea Life by the ridiculously talented Robert Lang. The chambered Nautilus looks really simple but it is a pain in the butt to fold, because it retains the logarithmic spiral and the basic 3D structure of an actual Nautilus. The next one is a poorly folded Cattleya orchid (the paper I used was too thick and small).


And someone requested the diagram for the Anemone I folded in an earlier post, and it's a little tricky but with some experience, it's quite easy to fold.

Paella adapted from C I
While my friends told me it was good and so did my parents, I didn't particularly enjoy this. A measly can of diced tomatoes just does not have enough sweetness and "oomph" to really flavor this much rice. I prefer things to be on the sweeter, spicier side, so I would probably go for a big can of tomato sauce next time (this thing, not ketchup, you Aussies) instead.

• 750g (3 cups) chicken broth


• pinch saffron threads, crumbled


• 1 dried bay leaf


• 411g (14.5oz can) diced tomatoes


• olive oil


• 1 red bell pepper, seeded and cut lengthwise into 1cm (1/2 inch) wide strips


• 450g (1 pound) chicken thighs, halved crosswise


• 225g (8oz) chorizo, sliced 1cm (1/2 inch) thick


• 1 medium onion, chopped finely


• 9 garlic cloves, minced


• 290g (2 cups) Valencia or Arborio rice


• 80g (1/3 cup) dry white wine


• 450g (1 pound) extra large shrimp (21/25)


• 12 mussels, scrubbed and debearded (couldn't find these so near New Year's, darn. So I hacked two crabs in half and placed them in with the shrimp)


• 70g (1/2 cup) thawed frozen peas


• small handful fresh parsley leaves, chopped


• lemon wedges

To the container of chicken broth or in a medium bowl, add the saffron, bay leaf, and 1/2 teaspoon salt to the broth and set aside. Drain the diced tomatoes, mince, and then drain them again. Set aside.

Preheat the oven to 175°C (350°F). In a large Dutch oven or paella pan, heat 2 teaspoons olive oil over medium-high heat until it shimmers, then add the peppers and toss until the skin is blistered and has black spots. Transfer the peppers to a plate. In the same pan, add 1 teaspoon olive oil and heat until it shimmers. Add the chicken pieces and cook untouched until well-browned, then turn and brown the other side. Transfer the chicken to a plate. In the same pan, cook the chorizo until browned (about 5 minutes). Transfer the pieces to the plate with chicken.

Reduce the heat to medium and add enough olive oil so the pan contains 2 tablespoons of fat. Heat until shimmering. Add the onion and cook until softened. Add the garlic and cook until you can smell its aroma. Add the tomatoes and cook until thickened and darkened, about 3 minutes. Add the rice and stir to coat the grains. Add the
seasoned chicken broth and wine, and stir. Add the chicken and chorizo and bring to a boil uncovered, stirring occasionally. Cover the paella pan or dutch oven and transfer it to the oven. Cook until the rice absorbs nearly all the liquid, about 15 minutes. Uncover the pan, scatter the shrimp and mussels (hinge down), bell pepper and peas, then cover and return to the oven. Cook until the shrimp is opaque and mussels have opened, about 10 minutes. Discard any mussels that have not opened.

Uncover the pan and return it over a medium-high flame. Cook for 5 minutes, rotating the pan 180° halfway through. Sprinkle with the parsley and serve with lemon wedges.

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Sticky Toffee Pudding

When I was in my fourth year of undergrad (positively the Dark Ages), one of my friends who was frustrated with me told me point-blank that I cut people too little slack. As a result, she said, I hurt one of my closest friends at the time, who said I made him feel stupid. You have to be thankful for those moments when people are being brutally honest with you, because during the 90% of the time when people are just being mindlessly polite, you can't accurately make an assessment of yourself and your values. (Hopefully not too often, though, because it can get depressing.) However, even though I felt really bad for how he perceived me (for the record, I never thought he was stupid), I never said sorry for the things I made him feel.

Fast-forward to 7-9 years later, and I still haven't said anything. It's just that during the rare times that we see each other, everything seems to be back to normal. There's laughter, there's joshing, there's chatting, everything that friends do. And when I come home later, there's that sinking feeling that he would never feel as comfortable with me as he did when I was sure we were okay. However, talking to him about him nearly a DECADE later might just reopen a wound he doesn't want to be reminded of.

I guess guys are like that. If you think guys are horrible when it comes to apologizing to women, I assure you they are absolute crap when it comes to apologizing to other men (how can we be crap if WE DON'T EVEN DO IT?). Probably only when one is halfway through a drunken stupor would an actual "sorry" be uttered. It's one of the points in the series The Inbetweeners (watch this episode part 1, 2, and 3, with a warning of strong language and mature themes) that I really appreciated-- Simon and Jay never address the problem. They simply go on as if it had never happened, with the hope that Will understands he can always count on them (uh... spoiler!). Part of my problem is that not only do I not know if he doesn't want to be reminded of a painful memory, but there's also the possibility that it's too late to apologize (heh), or he may not even care anymore.

Maybe someday I'll say it. Or maybe I'll write an e-mail, saying I'm the stupid one. I don't deserve the slack but I hope you cut me some, and I hope that someday I can truly be deserving of the friendship that was offered to me, even when I was such an ass. Maybe this blog post is a step in that direction (should I send a link? Hah). I'm not sure, though, if I envy women for their ability to write pages and pages of apology letters to their friends! (Hey, I've received a few.)

Anyway. Maybe I can sweeten the deal with a classic English pudding. My dad, who doesn't usually like dessert, loved this, as did my grandmother, who couldn't get enough of the sauce that I became concerned there wouldn't be any left for everyone else! You can read my review of Claire Clark's Indulge at The Gastronomer's Bookshelf.


Sticky Toffee Pudding adapted from Indulge: 100 Perfect Desserts
Clark says that the chocolate in the toffee sauce takes the edge off the sweetness, and I agree. It doesn't make it in-your-face chocolatey but it gives it more of a dimension than "sugar" (though I love me some molasses). She recommends using Medjool dates if you can find them.

• 175g (6oz) dates, pitted and chopped


• 300g (1-1/4 cups) water


• 1 teaspoon baking soda


• 50g (3-1/2 tablespoons) softened unsalted butter


• 175g (1 cup minus 2 tablespoons) sugar


• 2 medium eggs, lightly beaten


• 175g (1-1/4 cups) all-purpose flour


• 2 teaspoons baking powder


• 1/2 teaspoon salt

Preheat the oven to 180°C (350°F). Spray 6 ramekins with baking spray (or grease with extra butter). In a medium saucepan, add the dates and the water. Bring to a boil and simmer for 4-5 minutes. Remove from the heat and stir in the baking soda (it will look kinda gross). Leave to cool slightly.

In a medium mixing bowl, cream the butter and sugar together until pale and fluffy. Add the eggs, beating well after adding each one. Stir in all the contents of the saucepan. Sift the flour, baking powder, and salt into a large mixing bowl and give it a whisk to combine. Pour the warm batter into the flour, whisking constantly as you do and making sure they are well-combined.

Divide the batter between the ramekins and bake for 12-15 minutes, or until well-risen and just firm to the touch. I managed to bake them for 25 minutes waiting for them to be firm, but it turns out I may have overbaked them. Meanwhile, make the sauce.

• 350g (1-1/2 cups) heavy cream


• 50g (1/4 cup packed) soft dark brown sugar


• 1 tablespoon molasses


• 25g (1oz) dark chocolate (70% cocoa solids), grated

In a small saucepan or skillet, bring the cream, sugar, and molasses to a boil over medium heat. Add the grated chocolate and stir until it's melted. Unmold the puddings and spoon the sauce over them.

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