6.10.2016

seen, 2019

remember the times when we were not cold?

so many things started to make sense, all of sudden, and I thought it funny.

it was almost as if I could finally imagine -

- no, understand, what things could have been, were we born into the same universes. 

 i swear i did well, for a good while, at this "let's not think about what-ifs".

but when we were so close, with no ocean in-between, it was addictive:

the idea that there is a place where we can both belong alongside each other.

but then things went back to normal, and then, things became strange, like never before.

the distances seem to have shifted 

back to what they really are.

the dimensions of our universes, too

and they now fit back into our hands.

again you are as distant from me

as on the day when we were born.

new york cheesecake?

It was a cute one, for sure, but still left me unsatisfied.

I followed this recipe - you can always trust smitten kitchen! - but the result was not quite as creamy as I wished, a bit too dense. I simply had a different idea in my head. There was a cheesecake I used to have with half cream cheese, half double cream, if only I could find the recipe somewhere... And no graham crackers in this country, as always, note to self: make a batch for next time. I blame myself for the colour, too. Got too distracted with reading. 

Next time will be perfect. There always is the next time with cheesecake. 

matcha roll cake

cake roll

adapted from here

60 ml whole fat milk

5 tsp matcha powder

4 egg whites

60 grams granulated sugar

45 grams flour

20 grams granulated sugar

1 tsp baking powder

1/4 tsp sea salt

3 egg yolks

40 ml vegetable oil

line a 20cm x 30cm pan with baking parchment

mix matcha with milk, heat up until start steaming (do not boil), set aside to cool

in a bowl, mix the flour, remaining sugar, baking powder and salt

in another bowl, combine egg yolks, matcha milk and oil 

mix in the wet ingredients into the dry, combine, do not overmix

whip the egg whites and 60 g sugar into soft peak meringue

fold in the meringue carefully

spread into a thin layer in the pan

bake for about 12 minutes in 170 degrees

let cool for a few minutes before taking out of the pan transferring onto a rack, upside down

place a new piece of parchment of kitchen towel on top of the cake, roll the cake and keep it rolled until used (I rolled it along the longer edge, if you do it along the shorter one it will have the more classic snail-like twist inside)

cream cheese filling

2 tsp gelatine, soaked in 2 tbsp warm water

50 ml double cream

200 ml double cream

200 g cream cheese

50 g sugar

zest of 1 lemon

heat up the 50 ml cream until hot (do not boil, pour over the soaked gelatine, mix until the gelatine dissolves

mix the cream cheese with sugar until smooth

whip the cream to medium peaks

add the gelatine mixture and lemon zest to the cream cheese, mix well

fold the whipping cream into the cream cheese carefully and thoroughly

assembly

unroll the cake carefully, spread a layer of cream over it and roll it back

wrap tightly with cling film and refrigerate for at least 4 hours

sour cherry brownie

sour cherry brownie 

makes a 24 cm round cake 

150 g dark chocolate 

150 g butter 

150 g sugar 

150 g flour 

3 eggs 

½ tsp baking powder pinch if salt 

500 g pitted sour cherries 

flour, to dust 

melt the butter with sugar, take off heat and add chocolate - stir until melted 

add eggs, one at time, mixing well after each addition

sift in the flour with baking powder and salt, mix until smooth

pour into a lined pan dust the cherries in flour and spread all over the cake 

bake 30 minutes in 180C

matcha, strawberry & royal milk tea macarons

Another time without a recipe. I haven't tried making macarons since... something like 2012, probably. Always seemed like far too much hassle. However, there was something I wished to celebrate in a very special way, and so, this attempt. I was quite satisfied with the result, barring the air pockets in the macaron shells - people with much more experience say there are at least ten different reasons for that, so I should work on figuring it out and eliminating the issue, someday, but. For now, this was a good attempt #1, if I may say so. I used Pierre Hermé's recipe and found it rather approachable. 

The macaron shells are matcha, decorated with more matcha & edible golden dust. The insert is strawberry geleé, and the ganache - probably my proudest moment here - is made with milk chocolate and royal milk tea powder. Yes, a royal milk tea ganache, otherwise known as the absolute perfection (and the ultimate flavour of Japan.) There are still two bags of royal milk tea powder in my cupboard, stashed away after last-minute midnight purchase back in Singapore. I shall certainly endeavour to make some more desserts with this flavour in the future. It tastes exactly like what I miss.

(for the ganache, I used 200 g white chocolate melted in 100 ml hot double cream, and then mixed in 3 heaping tbsp of royal milk tea powder. That's it. That simple.)

tea party, january 2016

I don't reminisce that period often. I'm not sure why: many great things happened back then. But then, maybe it's the mood of it, towards the end: things did not go as planned. Not that it felt like defeat, or like disappointment. I suppose it merely felt like a confirmation: things do not last. 

There were two times when I hosted something like a house party, when there were more than five people in my house at once: a strange memory. It truly happens terribly rarely. This home back here, I cannot remember - sometime around 2012, perhaps, when I had a group of friends around to bake hundreds of gingerbread cookies. Before that, maybe for a birthday, back as a child. But that doesn't quite count. And then, last year in the UK, there wasn't enough sitting space for more than four people, even if I could have fed more at once out of my rice cooker. 

I do miss the view. Second floor, the windows were low and big, and I could observe different angles of the universe out of them: the east out of the kitchen window, the west out of the living room and my bedroom. Watching the sunsets was definitely an advantage. 

There were times I spent on that sofa, awake all night, in anticipation of something, still young and naïve enough to believe that the something could appear. 

There was so much beautiful light.