Lying in bed, and hearing the tram turn the corner.
Buzzing cafes, spilling over, morning, noon and night.
Nearly every coffee is a great coffee.
Thriving, independent bookstores, filled with real, actual books.
Endless pockets of quirky, one-off shops.
Old and new sitting well together.
The attention to design and style in almost everything.
Things I hate about Melbourne:
The weather.
Winter has been dark, wet and dreary, as evidenced by my shadowy, window-lit pics.
A feeble complaint from a girl who grew up praying for snow days and trudging through slush, perhaps, but I've gone soft.
Luckily, nature is sometimes merciful.
Just when you think you can't stand another day of gumboots and inverted umbrellas, lemons appear.
Edible sunshine.
Spreadable sunshine, actually, if you meld them with eggs, sugar, and butter to make Extra-Rich Golden Lemon Curd.
Two things set this recipe, adapted from la Martha, apart:
egg yolks - six, to be exact, and not a white in sight. A yolk-only approach makes for a richer, thicker curd. You could go with three whole eggs, for a lighter result, but why?
straining - not once, but twice. First, the egg yolks and, later, the final emulsion. When you see what's left in the sieve, you'll be glad you did.
The result from this ridiculously simple recipe is a decadent pot of goodness - or badness, depending upon how you look at it.
I went through a half-loaf of bread to get these shots.
1/2 cup unsalted butter, chilled and cut into small pieces
1 Tbs lemon zest, grated
Directions
1. Start by sterilizing a glass jar for your finished product.
2. Locate the perfect pot: it should be heavy-based and medium-sized, to reduce your odds of winding up with scrambled eggs.
3. Separate your eggs, reserving the whites for a future meringue - or egg white omelet, should you feel the need to repent. Egg whites can be frozen - just be sure to label them so you know how many you are dealing with later.
4. Beat the yolks until smooth and strain through a fine mesh sieve, directly into the saucepan. Don't push what remains through the sieve; you don't want it in there.
5. Grate the zest from one lemon and set aside.
6. Add the lemon juice and sugar to the egg yolk and stir to combine.
7. Over a low, gentle heat, stir continuously for 10-15 minutes, until the mixture coats the back of a wooden spoon.
8. Remove from the heat and pour through a clean sieve, into a mixing bowl.
9. Swiftly add the chilled butter pieces and mix through - this will lend a satiny sheen as well as cool your mixture.
10. Add the grated lemon zest - 1 Tbs if you are going regulation, more if you prefer extra pucker.
11. Make a piece of toast with white bread only - the kind you'd never admit to buying. Spread your toast with salted butter. Slather it with your lemon curd. Repeat as necessary.
12. Transfer what remains to your glass container and refrigerate.
In theory, it will keep for two weeks, but I suspect we'll never know.
Freezable. (Yes, I am obsessed. And on the hunt for a deep-freeze.)
Perfect.
The first batch never made it out of the pan, let alone all the way to the freezer.
The second batch included some modifications intended to dial down the treat factor and amp up the nutritional value.
Apparently, these alterations were not sufficient, as their sweetness led to a topsy-turvy argument with my seven year old:
After downing a bar in record time yesterday morning, he asked, "What's for breakfast?"
"What do you mean?" I asked. "That was breakfast."
Speaking slowly, in a tone usually reserved for folks teetering on window ledges, this child, who wouldn't normally touch a nut or an oat for love or money, explained,
"That wasn't breakfast... that was a treat. Where are the eggs?"
He may have a point.
But this is a treat I am feeling pretty darn good about.
The recipe says to let the bars cool for 20 minutes before cutting, but I defy you not to eat them warm, straight out of the pan.
Especially if you include a handful of dark chocolate chips.
I did. Hence the need for batch number three.
Here's my take on Thick, Chewy Granola Bars:
1⅓ cups quick rolled oats
½-¾ cup evaporated cane juice¹
⅓ cup almond meal²
1 tsp salt
¼ tsp cinnamon
3 cups mixed fruits, nuts and seeds³
⅓ cup natural peanut butter
1 tbs vanilla
6 tbs melted butter
¼ cup maple syrup
2 tbs light corn syrup
1 tbs water
Preheat the oven to 180ºC/350ºF. Lightly grease a square pan and line with baking paper. Combine the dry ingredients, including the fruit and nuts. In a separate bowl, whisk together the wet ingredients, including the peanut butter. Add the wet ingredients to the dry and combine until moist and crumbly. Spread the mixture into the square pan and, using a large piece of cling wrap as a barrier, press the mixture down using your hands until it is firmly packed and evenly spread. Bake for 30-40 minutes, until the edges brown and the top is golden. Allow it to cool in the pan (if you can resist nibbling) before cutting and wrapping individually. May be stored in the freezer.
Notes
1. Evaporated cane juice (a sugar cane product) is a less refined alternative to the regular sugar in the original recipe.
2. The original recipe called for 1/3 cup of finely ground oats (blitzed in a food processor), but I swapped it for almond meal for added protein and because my food processor has died.
3. I used 3 cups of: dried cherries, chopped; toasted almonds, chopped; pistachios; sunflower kernels, pepitas; shredded coconut; and a small handful of dark chocolate chips or finely chopped 70% dark chocolate.
This summer, while my parents were visiting from America, I found myself opening Bills Sydney Food (Bill Granger's first and best cookbook) again and again.
For all overseas visitors to our house, it is required eating.
There are several reasons for this:
1. That book epitomizes every-day Australian cooking at its best - fresh, flavourful, not overly teased or done-up.
2. A pan-toasted sandwich with tomato and fontina, or a bowl of banana maple porridge with buttered stone fruit, is the best kind of short-hand for "Welcome To Australia."
Last night, I whipped up a loaf of his Coconut Bread.
It is famously marked "never to be replaced" on the menu at bills (the restaurant), so you know it's good.
Serve it in thick toasted slices, with a dusting of icing/confectioner's sugar, butter, lime marmalade - this is key - and a pot of strong coffee.
Heaven.
p.s. I will be taking Bill's advice and stashing a few slices in the freezer, for chilly mornings when I'd rather be in the Caribbean.
Coconut Bread from Bill's Sydney Food
makes 8-10 slices
2 eggs
300 ml (10 fl oz) milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 teaspoons baking powder
2.5 cups plain (all-purpose) flour
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 cup caster (superfine) sugar
150 g (5 oz) shredded coconut
75 g (2.5 oz) unsalted butter, melted
to serve
butter
lime marmalade
Preheat oven to 180°C/350°F. Lightly whisk eggs, milk and vanilla together.
Sift flour, baking powder and cinnamon into a bowl, add sugar and coconut, and stir to combine. (Note: I always use self-raising flour and skip the addition of baking powder and it works just as well, if not better.) Make a well in the centre and gradually stir in the egg mixture until just combined. Add melted butter and stir until the mixture is just smooth, being careful not to over-mix.
Pour into a greased and floured 21 x 10 cm (8.5 x 4 inch) loaf tin and bake in the preheated oven for 1 hour, or until bread is cooked when tested with a skewer.
Leave in the tin to cool for 5 minutes, and remove to cool further on a wire rack.
Tomorrow is the last day of school before Christmas holidays, which means that it is time for Advent Calendar Activity #9: Make teachers' gifts.
Last year, we proudly presented lemon-iced shortbread only to realize that each teacher had received her own weight in cookies.
This year, we aimed for something a bit different: Granola.
Actually, I stole this idea from my friend, Sharron.
When I heard that she'd be giving friends her own interpretation of my granola, instead of her usual sweets, I was (a) flattered and (b) jealous that I hadn't thought of doing that myself.
So, with Wayne Newton crooning Jingle Bells (the American version) in the background, the boys spent the evening scooping granola into mason jars and labeling manila baggage tags, while I wrote out ingredients and serving suggestions.
As I did so, I wondered:
If I were a primary school teacher, what would I be wishing for?
a glass of champagne?
an extra week's holiday?
an apology?
I hope my sons' teachers will settle for granola.
They might, being far better people than I.
And after all, it is good granola.
p.s. If you are making cookies, this is how we wrapped ours last year.
Very simple: brown paper lunch bags, some ribbon, a hole puncher, an ornament or two, and you're done.
The boys assembled the bird ornaments based on a DIY from the now defunct Domino; I would share the link but, sadly, it now shuttles you Architectural Digest - totally unsatisfying.
We looped the ribbon at the top of the package through the ribbons attached to the birds and the baubles, so it all stays together. Too easy.
For a long time, I have dreamed about being the kind of mother who fills the house with the smell of fresh baked-bread, and all the calm and tranquility that aroma suggests.
As it turns out, I am the kind of mom who considers it a personal triumph if everyone gets to school wearing the right uniform on the right day.
The need to prepare dinner comes as a daily shock - "What? Again? Didn't I just do that yesterday?"
And, too often, the tenor of the house, or at least the woman running it, tends towards shrill, not chill.
But, as of 3 weeks ago, I do bake bread.
'Little Red Hen bread', as WB dubbed it, on sight. Not because I made it myself (though I did - it was 10 o'clock at night) but because it looks exactly like the illustration in our Little Golden Book.
In fact, it is Jim Lahey's No-Knead Bread, which I have been meaning to attempt it ever since reading about it The New York Times, three years ago.
I wish I could say that three years on the to-do list is a personal record, but it isn't.
Mr. Lahey's recipe calls for straight white flour, but, in deference to DB's wheat intolerance, I substituted spelt flour, which accounts for the density and color.
It was spelt, but it was delicious.
I suspect if you slather enough butter and jam on anything, it will taste delicious, but this loaf disappeared fast.
And, it was just as easy as Mr. Lahey promised it would be. So easy, that half-way through my first bite I was fantasizing about making it every other day.
If you think this is bad, you should have seen the floor.
We used Gluten-Free Flour and Royal Icing (icing/confectioner's sugar mixed with a few tablespoons of hot water or egg white), so DB could partake in the eating.
As mentioned above, DB's favorite dessert from Sunday's Bake-Off were the Gluten-Free Chocolate Mudcake Cake cupcakes (courtesy of a Woollies brand box-mix - shock horror!) topped with this utterly lickable, iresistable No-Cook Marshmallow Frosting.
It first debuted in our house at DB's Halloween birthday party, when we use it in our interpretation of Martha Stewart's Boo-tiful Cake: three layers of sponge, topped with clouds of Marshmallow Frosting and a quartet of hand-piped ghost meringues, complete with silver-ball eyes.
For me, Rice Krispies Treats are the ultimate in kids party food - a perenial favorite at every bake-sale I can remember and, without fail, the table where I spent my fistful of quarters. A thin coating of vegetable oil on your pot and rubber spatula are essential to avoid finding yourself in a huge, sticky morass.
Our allergy-free version substitutes gluten-free rice bubbles for the original Rice Krispie brand (which contains barley malt, a no-no), Nuttelex non-dairy butter substitute and gluten-free marshmallows.
If you can't find G-free marshmallows in the shop, you can make your own, courtesy of either epicurious or Smitten Kitchen. Just wear something disposable!
No, these are not from Magnolia Bakery. They are fromBabyCakes, on New York's Lower East Side. But if Carrie Bradshaw ever went vegan (or developed a wheat intolerance), I can assure you, this is where she would have been snacking, alongside Natalie Portman, Mary-Louise Parker and Jason Swartzman, to name a few devoted fans.
And, if Carrie had visited BabyCakes, a generation of women would have been downing Frosting Shots instead of Cosmopolitans. And then Manolo Blahnik would have had to reinforce his stilletos with titanium steel, lest they crumble like empty soda cans under the weight of our behinds, but as BabyCakes, which opened in 2005 - is post-Carrie, we don't need to go there.
Okay, I know what you're thinking: celebrities endorsements aside, Vegan + Gluten Free = Yuck.
(Also, When is she going to get off the whole gluten-free thing? Soon, I promise. Stay with me here.)
I know that's what you're thinking, because that's what I was thinking, too, when I first read about BabyCakes in the New York Times in 2005, in a small piece titled "Indulgence For Those Used To Saying No". I happily filed that under "irrelevant" and turned the page.
Fast forward four years and one lactose and gluten intolerant child later tothis video.
Skinny as they are, these do not look to me like girls who do deprivation. And I'll say this for them: they give good video.
Suddenly, a trip to BabyCakes, "New York's Most Talked-About Bakery", was high on our itinerary.
Did the bakery live up to the hype?
Well, that depends on who you ask: me or our target audience member, DB.
You know how men can smell over-eagerness and desperation at fifty paces? Apparently that radar kicks in well before the tender age of five.
I was desperate for him to love this place. And he knew it.
How else could I explain, after days of being told "I'm sorry, you can't have that" in restaurant after restaurant, DB's utter reluctance to sample anything in the bakery?
The walls were pink, the glass cases were loaded with sweets, the girls were cute in their little uniforms and everything about the joint screamed "SUGAR!!!"
Okay, it was really agave nectar, but is sure sounded like "SUGAR!!!" to me.
Maybe if I'd acted in a casual, throw-away manner....
Maybe if I hadn't built it up over the course of the 30 minute walk from Chinatown....
Maybe if we'd taken a cab.
I quickly blew $56 on cupcakes and cookies (stocking up for every conceivable treat scenario over the coming week, in duplicate for his brother) and then had to coax DB to take just one little bite of the cupcake I had travelled 13,000 miles to get.
There was no joy.
WB liked them.
Go figure.
I had spent the entire morning educating everyone in our party about this place, trilling about how BabyCakes had won NY's Best Cupcake Award. Not the best vegan cupcake - the best cupcake, full-stop. Expectations were high.
And at the risk of blaspheming, I have to admit that I was not convinced.
The chocolate cupcake I had was nice - very good for a gluten-free cake, in fact, but not on par with the non-allergy variety I regularly churned out at home. The vanilla cupcake was leaden and saw-dusty. Maybe someone's hand slipped when adding the xanthum gum.
My faith began to waver.
But, having read the BabyCakes cookbook in advance of our visit, having fallen for the hipster grooviness of baker Erin McKenna, with her fabulous writing style and contagious zeal, having come so far with such high hopes, I had way too much invested in this place to give up after one batch of cupcakes.
I was determined for BabyCakes to be our personal dessert salvation, whether DB liked it or not.
They were excellent. Excellent. By any standard. And this comes from a girl who once accidentally doubled the butter content on the Toll House recipe, discovered she like it better that way, and hasn't looked back since. Even DB could not resist finishing one in short order. And then another. And then another.
Soon, I was back on a second, solo visit to restock on cookies and sample the other wares.
The Chocolate Chip And CoffeeBrownies. Swoon. Apparently, it took six months of incremental adjustments to come up with the right consistency. It was worth it. For a tutorial, you can see Erin McKenna teach Martha Stewart to make them by clickinghere.
I asked the girl behind the counter, If I were to get one thing, what should it be? Without hesitation, and in chorus with a colleague who overheard the question, I was told "The Cinnamon Toastie".
The Cinnamon Toastie. Oh my. It was gone so fast, I didn't get a photo, so I used this one from Tara Donne. You can see Erin McKenna teach Martha Stewart to make it by clickinghere.
The Bake-Off
Back at home, armed with my cookbook and $150 of new pantry ingredients (cruelty-and-allergy-free desserts do not come cheap), I was eager to enter this brave new world of baking. Morning tea with a bunch of families presented the perfect opportunity. And, to determine whether BabyCakes really had the goods, or whether I was blinded by a zealous faith born out of desperation (not to mention a weakness for good hair and slick videos), I decided to conduct a little experiment:
I would bake four BabyCakes recipes, tell no one that they were vegan and gluen-free (not words that normally whet the appetite), and let the results speak for themselves.
With all the concessions and missing out that folks with food allergies have to do in countless social situations, where food plays such a prominent role, I wanted home to be one place where DB doesn't have to hear "You can't have that." But with food so important to me, I cringe at the thought of serving something that tasted like a compromise.
Would people notice that there was something different? Were these baked goods so good, in fact, that they could not only "pass" but really delight people?
The answer was a resounding Yes.
The Apple-Cinnamon Toastie (this is the Cinnamon Toastie, as above, with one cup of roasted apples thrown in for good measure) was a hands-down favorite by any standard. One friend was so smitten he polished off most of the loaf singlehandedly, but everyone who managed to snag a slice was equally enthusiastic. A very satisfying result.
The Chocolate Chocolate Cookies were a definite hit with the younger crowd.
The Brownies faired well, but we didn't run out, which I found surprising. Too much competition? There were no fewer than NINE platters on the table, as friends came with their own tasty contributions, so it's not surprising that guests didn't sample everything.
I was left with a lot of Banana Chocolate Chip Bread. Again, too much competition? Only a few piece were missing in the end (with a thumbs up from one taker), so maybe it just didn't have street appeal. Not sure.
Most importantly, in every case, people enjoyed the food on it's own merits and were genuinely surprised to learn that they'd been eating allergy-free fare.
As for DB?
This time, I tried the non-challant approach. It kind of worked. For him, both the Apple-Cinnamon Toastie and the Banana Chocolate Chip Bread were immediately out of the running by virtue of their fruit content. Should have seen that coming. The Chocolate Chocolate Chip Cookies passed muster, but he did request that, in the future, I leave the chips out. That's right: no chocolate chips.
I was beginning to suspect that he was messing with my head.
And then we hit on his favorites: the only two desserts I made that day that did not come from the BabyCakes book. Chocolate Mudcake Cupcakes (from Woolworth's brand boxed mix - an anathema to me, but he loves it) with Marshmallow Icingand my allergy-free interpretation of Rice Krispies Treats. Recipes to follow later this week.
As it turns out, DB harbors no fantasies about living a parallel life in NY as an impossibly skinny, cool baker with great boots (his father will be relieved), nor is he swayed by the good hair or slick videos. As good as BabyCakes turned out to be, DB likes Mommy's baking best. Sorry, Erin.
And as much as I wanted her to win him over, I was tickled to discover that his heart - and his tummy - are still mine. And that's just the way we like it.
