Miscellaneous Food: March Macaron Madness Part 1

I always joke that when I get stressed, I bake and the more stressed I get, the more I bake but in this past week, that joke's really caught up to me. I was feeling so in limbo, so neither here nor there that I looked desperately around for something to make me feel more grounded, more alive, more joyful. Of course, I could have gone for a super healthy 10-mile run but where's the fun in that? I decided to fall back on an old love, or else known as, baking macarons to surfeited collapse. I couldn't even bear the thought of emotional baking, so I baked in monotone. Literally.


Part of the macaron therapy is that it's such a tactile process, turning eggs, so gooey and fragile that you can pop them with the slightest pressure, into turgid crumbly shells with the smoothest, dryest skins. I love how you can run your finger gently over them, feeling every ripple and seed of almond or hazlenut meal. Other people like to pet dogs, I just like to stroke my little macaron shells. Go figure.


And I can't even begin to explain the pleasure and gratification I derived, watching the butter beat fiercely round the bowl and the meringue whip into cream, then feverishly piping lines of evenly sized macaron rounds. I always think creating these interlocking armies gives me a innate sense of control and order but I think it's really the consuming focus and reassurance of the repetitive motion that soothes.


This sudden burst of activity was also a good opportunity to de-stock some of my pantry. I'm such a food trafficker- everywhere I go, I look for unusual or artisan produce and in the last year, I've been particularly attracted to "things that would be interesting in a macaron filling". I think it drives my Karen my Macaron Mentor, crazy because from time to time, I message her late at night with "pineapple tart jam in macarons" and she messages back "yuck!".

That hasn't stopped me from amassing a veritable collection of intriging locavore products, from left to right, single-origin chocolate covered cocoa beans that my cousin bought me from Columbia, chocolate covered figs and chilli lime chocolate from Australia, marron (chestnut) paste from Cafe Angelina in Paris, passionfruit mango puree from Sadaharu Aoki and hand-milled raspberry jam. The item that I was most excited about was a recent purchase from a fresh growers market, a brown bag of cinnamon muesli with dried figs, coconut and pumpkin seeds.


I made just the pale almond hazlenut shells and concentrated on concocting three flavours. One was an old favourite, the pale tan, salted caramel filling and the two were new flavours, darjeeling tea and vanilla yoghurt with fig, coconut and cinammon muesli, which are the darker taupe and bright white fillings respectively.


During my recent trip to Australia, I discovered Adriano Zumbo's macarons, one particularly spectacular yoghurt, apricot and pistachio macaron (and one that I found seriously underwhelming was his verdant green and too-wet rosemary and apricot). I wanted to do something similar using the muesli, so I decanted a large scoop of thick greek yoghurt and tipped the scrapings from a vanilla pod into swiss meringue buttercream to produce the distinctive sourish creaminess of yoghurt, flecked with resplendent black little vanilla seeds. It was surprisingly easy and stable to work with, the only flaw was that the initially strong sourness faded rapidly overnight.


I packed two of each new flavour and four salted caramel macarons into parchment wrapped boxes and delivered them over the next day. From the feedback received, I wasn't the only one who loved the way the muesli filling slowly released the flavours of coconut and cinnamon into the yoghurt buttercream, it was the unanimous new favourite from even picky customers like my mom!

Recipe: Red Stewed Pork

We are featured on the wildly popular and delicious blog, Chubby Hubby! A. was kind enough to feature our submission for his braised and stewed contest. This dish is a sure-win, with a deep fragrance and smooth, savoury taste. Click hereto see the full contest article.

Our prize-winning recipe was taught to me by one of my Shanghainese colleagues. He and his wife grew up in the 1970s and 1980s in China, when meat was a scarce commodity and a big treat. This was the dish that his wife cooked for him, when they were still friends, that impressed him into thinking she was a really fantastic catch. Maybe it'll work some magic for you too.

Ingredients:
600 grams streaky pork
2 Tablespoons of oil for frying
2-3 cloves garlic, crushed
1/2 inch of ginger, sliced
1 spring onion, sliced
1 star anise
1 teaspoon Szechuan peppercorn
1 cinnamon stick
2 Tablespoons light soy sauce
1 Tablespoon oyster sauce
2 teaspoons dark soy sauce
1 Tablespoon Chinese cooking wine
2-3 Tablespoons rock sugar

1. Plunge the pork into a wok of cold water, then slowly bring the water and meat to a boil and boil the meat for 1-2 minutes. Remove the pork and let it cool, then slice into 1/2 inch thick pieces.
2. Heat the cooking oil in a cleaned wok, add the garlic, ginger, spring onion, star anise, Szechuan peppercorn and cinnamon stick, then stir for a few seconds until the garlic becomes golden.
3. Put the pork slices into the wok and fry for half a minute
4. Pour water into the wok to cover the meat well, add the light soy sauce, oyster sauce, cooking wine and 2/3 of the rock sugar, then turn up the heat until the water boils.
5. Cover the wok, turn down the flame and simmer slowly for at least 1.5 hours
6. Before serving, turn up the heat again to reduce the sauce and season with the dark soy sauce and remaining rock sugar to taste.

Recipe: Yuzu Tarts

I Was intending to rest this weekend, having travelled in spats for most of the month but Colin easily convinced us that a trip to TOTT was long overdue. The place is a wonderland of kitchen appliances, steamers, knives, pots and all manner of culinary goodness, including some gourmet ingredients for tarts and savouries. I was immediately reminded of the Japanese yuzus that I had from a recent trip, still sitting in my fridge. Between yuzu tarts and taking a break, what's a girl to do?


I filled half of the sweet tart dough with chocolate ganache and then the other half with yuzu cream, made from the Pierre Herme lemon cream recipe, also found here on this blog. In place of lemon juice and rind, I used yuzu rind and juice and topped up with a bit of orange juice.


Ingredients:
1/2 cup sugar
Finely grated zest of 2 yuzus
2 large eggs
1/4 cup fresh yuzu juice, topped up with orange juice
180 grams unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

Put the sugar and zest in a metal bowl set over the pan of simmering water. Rub the sugar and zest together until the sugar is moist, grainy and very aromatic. Whisk in the eggs, followed by the yuzu juice. Keep whisking to stop the eggs from scrambling. The bubbles will get bigger, and then, as it gets closer to 180 degrees F, it will start to thicken and the whisk will leave tracks. As soon as it reaches 180 degrees F, remove the cream from the heat and let it cool. Strain it into the container of the blender and discard the zest.

Turn the blender to high (or turn on the processor) and, with the machine going, add the butter about 5 pieces at a time. Scrape down the sides of the container as needed as you incorporate the butter. Once the butter is in, keep the machine going—to get the perfect dreamy, airy texture, you must continue to blend the cream for another 3 minutes. I kept the machine going till the cream thickened up into a spreadable consistency but you can also leave it to harden in the fridge.


Later, when they had set, I topped each yuzu tart with a raspberry and the chocolate tarts with melted, smooth ganache and then flecks of goldleaf. There's something about tarts that makes me so happy on a sunny Saturday! These little cases are a real treat too, I'm thinking of filling them with darjeeling cream (like mini darjeeling tea tarts) for future tea parties.

Recipe: Pecan Butter Cookies

If you are looking for an easy-peasy snack, this is one of those brilliant cookie dough recipes that you can make ahead of time (like Dorie Greenspan's World Peace Cookies) and freeze for later use. The dough is rolled into spherical logs and then cut into rounds for baking.

This quintessential "Cookies with Milk" recipe is great to use with children who like to help with baking and really helps when you need some quick kid dessert in a pinch or for bringing to school or birthday parties. You can also add some chocolate chunks as a treat or to replace part of the sugar; I've adapted the recipe from the Williams-Sonoma cookbook and have already cut the proportion of sugar in half as I find American cookie recipes in particular a little too sweet.



Ingredients:
200 grams unsalted butter at room temperature
1/2 cup sugar
A pinch of salt
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 cups all-purpose flour
2/3 cup pecans, chopped

Method:
1. Cream the butter, sugar, salt and vanilla with an electric mixer until smooth and creamy.
2. Add the flour and pecans and continue mixing.
3. Roll the dough into 2 cylindrical logs and wrap in cling wrap. Refrigerate until firm, at least four hours.
4. Pre-heat the oven to 175 degrees Celsius.
5. Cut the log into slices of about ¼-inch thick and place on baking trays lined with parchment paper.
6. Bake for 14-16 minutes until edges are golden brown.
7. Cool completely on wire racks.

Recipe: Roast Beef

What do you see when you look at this photo? I don't know about you, but I see beauty. Beauty in the freshness and redness. Beauty in the rich seams of fat running through the meat, like so much geological strata. Beauty in the arch of the rib bone. It's sad, when you think about it, that fresh, respectable produce should be considered the province of the well-heeled, and yet we think nothing of children sporting iPhones, or young professionals aiming to buy flashy cars with their first years' paychecks.

Which is why I think Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall's The River Cottage Meat Book is one of the best food books I've read. Not only is it an excellent cookbook, it's also an apologia - an intellectual and philosophical defence, and advocacy, of the love of meat. More importantly, however, Fearnley-Whittingstall preaches respect: it's fine and dandy to love eating meat, but do you really respect the animal that gave up its life for your steak? Do you understand how meat should be reared, fed, husbanded, slaughtered, aged, carved, cooked and served? Would you bat an eyelid if you learned that the lamb in your stew had been boiled rather than simmered?

I often reread parts of Fearnley-Whittingstall's work, and I am constantly rewarded with new insights, and forced to re-examine many of my own views and beliefs. It's true, of course, that one needs to either have a lot of time or money (preferably both) to live religiously by the author's example (he rears his own cows and makes his own sauces), but that doesn't mean one can't try.

With that in mind, I decided to cook a roast rib of beef for New Year. I've always found the thought of cooking an entire forerib fairly intimidating - something which was not helped by my mother's gloomy prognostications of undercooked beef and oven racks being unable to support the weight of massive pieces of meat. Having read and re-read the recipe provided by Fearnley-Whittingstall, however, I was convinced by the simplicity of his prescribed method, which is as follows:


1) Depending on how many people you plan to feed (1 rib will feed about 2 to 4 people, depending on whether you have any side dishes), buy a roast of between 2 to 6 ribs ($56 per kg at Huber's Butchery). Most home ovens will not be large enough to accommodate a full 6-rib roast, so ask your butcher to cut the rib into half.


2) Preheat your oven to 220C. Trim off as much excess fat from the rib as you like, leaving as much as you feel comfortable with (some fat is necessary to lubricate the meat and keep it moist). Season with salt and pepper, and then place the rib in the oven to sizzle for 30 minutes. It is important to notice that this "half hour sizzle", as Fearnley-Whittingstall terms it, is a pretty reliable guideline: almost all meats of any size can be seared in the oven at 220C for 30 minutes without drying out, save for very small (less than 1kg) joints of meat or game birds (e.g. pigeons or small chickens), which therefore require a shorter sizzle. Conversely, large roasts may benefit from a slightly longer sizzle (e.g. 45 minutes).

Those who are familiar with cooking meat will recognise this as essentially a browning process, and the advantage of doing it in the oven, rather than on the stove, is that there's no need to keep turning the heavy piece of meat to ensure an even sear, and you'll only need to clean the inside of your oven, rather than all over your stove top (albeit your oven will get rather oily as the oil spatters).


3) After 30 minutes, your meat will have developed a nice, brown crust, like the one you see in the picture above. Turn the oven down to 160C (you can leave the oven door ajar for a minute or two to help it cool down more quickly), and then continue to roast your beef, using the following timelines as a guide: 9-10 minutes per 500g for rare, 12-15 minutes per 500g for medium, and 18-20 minutes per 500g for well done. The shorter cooking times are for joints of 5kg and above. Having used these guidelines myself, I must say they are uncannily accurate, although for best results I would of course recommend a meat thermometer (the temperature at the thickest part of the joint should read: 50C for rare, 60C for medium and 70C for well done).


4) Take the beef out of the oven, and let it rest, lightly covered with some tin foil to keep it warm, for half an hour. It it exceedingly important that the meat is left to rest, as this gives the meat's juices a chance to settle down and redistribute back into the meat, ensuring that the meat will be moist, rather than dry, when it is served. While the meat is resting, you can use the time productively to prepare a quick sauce, or check on whatever side dishes you've decided should accompany the beef.


5) Carve the meat on a large cutting board, preferably one with an indented rim to catch the juices that are bound to be released. As you can see, although the photograph is a little dim, Fearnley-Whittingstall's timelines really do work, to produce, in my case, an amazing medium-rare prime rib roast, which I served with simple mashed potatoes.

It should be apparent by this point that a beef rib roast need not be a daunting affair at all, and in fact it is one of the most simple dishes I've cooked. For something so uninvolved, however, the results are invariably stunning, and no one can resist a roast rib, so you be sure that the roast will be demolished in no time.

If I haven't convinced you by now, The River Cottage Meat Book really is a worthwhile read, and I strongly recommend it to anyone who cares about, or would like to know more about, their meat.