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Every time I try to sit down with the laptop to write up a post I somehow get distracted by some other pursuit and next thing you know, there hasn't been a new post in weeks. It reminds me of a Simpsons episode [2F13] where Bart makes a collect call to Australia and gets distracted by Millhouse's offer to go downtown to smell a bakery that's caught on fire.
Milhouse: [at the window] Hey, Bart! The bakery caught fire and all of
downtown smells like cookies! Wanna go smell?
Bart: Yes...yes, I do. [leaves phone off hook]
It seems like the prevailing trend for the blog in the past few months, is a post primed with an apology from the blogger. And what do you know, here I am again saying sorry for not posting in weeks. Let me sweeten you up and buy back your affection with some pictures of food.
About the same time we were at the Good Living Markets in Pyrmont, we also stopped by every Sydney pastry-lovers mecca in Balmain. Yes, we found ourselves once again at Adriano Zumbo; his winter collection of pastries had just come out and our noses were pressed up against the window in an attempt to have a peak at what he had to offer this season. The shop was fuller than usual, and it looked like many of those in Balmain and I'm guessing around Sydney had caught wind that Mr. Zumbo had a new collection out. So just like the fashionistas do during fashion week, the pastry-hungry came out to view what sugar-fads he had conjured up.
Call me a Zumbo sycophant, boot-licker, or suck-up, but I have to say that he is one of the premiere patissiers in Sydney doing fascinating and unique things with desserts. And I'm not sure if this is an exclusive news-flash, but the word on the street is that he is opening up a cafe somewhere in Balmain so people can actually sit down and savour the pastries with a coffee or tea. If you have been to the shop, you will know that all it literally is, is a glass counter and a little aisle, so there isn't much room for savouring until you get home.
And, not to give Zumbo fans any false hope, this little rumour was confirmed by one of the insiders behind the counter. So I am very excited, although at the same time gutted I won't be here for the opening. I wasn't going to camp out for the iphone's release but if I was going to be in the country, you might have seen me with a sleeping bag and newspaper somewhere in Balmain in sheer anticipation for its opening. My only hope is that it will still be around when I come back, and I don't see any reason for it not to be.
There's another reason why I love Balmain and it's these 2 words- breakfast tagine. Kazbah on Darling is another Balmain favourite of mine, especially for breakfast. I've never seen a place so coveted for breakfast other than Bill's; the trick is to either book your table or come early, breakfast on weekends goes till 3pm, but I've never seen the place empty or devoid of queues on a Saturday morning.
The breakfast tagine consists of lamb mince, sucuk, feta, spinach, capsicum, caramelised onion, tomato, eggs and a side of Turkish and pita bread for dipping and mopping up the juices. They make the tagines to order and depending on how many people are having it, it's only $17.50 per person, which is quite good considering the eggs benedict is already $16.50. So for $1 extra you can get a whole lot more.
Breakfast tagine for 3 people, more than enough, with an average of 2.3 eggs per person.
There's no better way to spend a day than to eat your way through Darling St, there's much to be to had in terms of food and the small boutique shops are great for finding odd and quirky gifts. When confronted with the mesmerising array of goodies at Adriano Zumbo, I recommend choosing one of each flavour of macarons (they change daily) or a chocolate fondant, a rich flourless chocolate cake that is so good you wouldn't want to share.
And for Kazbah, there's no going past the breakfast tagine, although the foul medammas is also superb.
Every morning it's a fight, for someone who counts sleeping as one of her main fortes, it not easy getting up to go to the markets early on a lazy Saturday morning. Even when I am completely aware that the rewards of going to the markets far outweigh sleeping in till midday, somehow this rationale doesn't seem sensible enough when still tucked in the confines of a toasty bed.
But this weekend was different, seeing as this Saturday would be my last opportunity to visit to the Good Living Grower's Markets at Pyrmont Bay Park before I head overseas, I mustered up just enough coherence to pry myself from the snug confines of my bed. Slowly but surely, thoughts of what spoils could be gained from an early visit to the markets, began to ease me into waking life.
Most of the usual fare and wares were on show with the exception of a new beef stand peddling their gourmet sausages (which was quite good) and from my cloudy recollection a new patisserie stall. But other than that the markets consisted of familiar faces I have now come to know at the grower's markets, although notably absent was our favourite Gympie Farm jersey cow butter people. It was quite a downer, as we had run out of their butter for months and was looking forward to purchasing a new tub to spread on my La Tartine pumpkin loaf.
But aside from that minor disappointment, the markets were nothing short of a veritable feast and after an hour and three bags full of shopping later, we knew we had to call it a day lest we suffer scoliosis of the spine from carrying the not so orthopedic friendly biodegradable eco-bags. Good for the earth, not so good on your back.
One acquisition I am particularly excited about and would happily exchange the rest of my bounty for is a Testun di Pecora con foglie di castagne from Formaggi Ocello. At $120/kilo, it's not bargain, so we only bought a tiny sliver or this cheese could easily eat up at most of our market budget. This testun di pecora is a sheep's milk cheese covered in chestnut leaves and aged for 28 months. That's over 2 years of developing it's taste and it really shows in the cheese. Now I'm no cheese expert so I won't go into the nitty-gritty, but the cheese is surprisingly flavoursome, with hints of piquancy and sweetness, compared to other pecorinos which can be bland and subtle in taste.
Come back later for a look at the this pricey little piece of dairy but for now have a look at how our morning at the markets went down.
Forgetting a birthday- be it your partner's, your mother's or your best friend's, it's a cardinal sin. And whenever it happens, the guilty is always the worthy recipient of scorn and derision, and usually, what's coming to the accused is always warranted. Birthdays are important things, and should be celebrated accordingly- with festivity, and whenever possible with lots of food and alcohol. But what happens when you forget your own birthday?
Well, it's not exactly my own birthday that I have forgotten; now that would almost be equivalent to suffering retrograde amnesia, but it's actually the blog's birthday that I have neglected to remember. It's true, Milk and Cookies turned 2 years old, a good 8 weeks ago, and the momentous occasion almost passed by without so much as a mere mention or acknowledging it with a hip-hip-hooray and a little rendition of "for he's a jolly good fellow". Shame on me! Perhaps I was too distracted by my up-coming travel plans.
Born on the 2nd of May 2006, how could I forget that (slightly embarrassing) pioneer post that kicked off the whole odyssey into baking and eating? And the only way to exonerate one's self from the embarrassment and shame of forgetting their own blog's birthday is to make a cake celebratory enough to compensate for the indiscretion. Yes, for any baker, cake is the answer to most of life's quandaries.
I had always wanted to bake one of the celebration cakes featured in Dorie Greenspan's book Baking From My Home to Yours. But I've always had this aversion towards seemingly complicated cakes, especially layer cakes that looked so labour intensive. They look all great and majestic in the pictures; tiers and tiers of scrumptious layers towering towards cake heaven but ten mixing bowls and several whisks later you find yourself knee-deep in batter you no longer have the will to bake.
I'm more one of those 10 items or less chicks, nothing complicated, no fuss, no mess. I usually don't go for recipes with so many steps that include beating, melting, sifting, whisking, folding, sprinkling and a lot of waiting around for things to bake then cool and settle before you go on to the next step. Call me the impatient baker but I'm all for simple desserts; that's probably why you see so many small cakes on this blog. They're quick to bake, and the quicker they come out of the oven, the quicker I can get to eating them.
In saying this, my curiosity was getting the better of me and I was imagining what it would actually be like to be the architect of one of these tower of Babel constructions. It's mortifying to say but I think this has to be my first proper attempt at a layer cake. Be it a cake of only two layers, but a layer cake nonetheless. And all this time I had the audacity to call myself a baker, tsk tsk. There goes my reputation.
Also, I figured that going through the whole process of making this layer cake would be the only penance that could justify my wrongdoing. After all the blog has treated me so well over the past two years, it was the least I could do for such an oversight. So off I went, on my day off work to make a cake worthy of forgiveness.
There's not much I can say about this cake that you wouldn't already gather from looking at it. It looks delicious and it tasted just like it looked. The cake is all Dorie, except for the cream filling. I just thought that there needed to be something to soften the richness of the chocolate cake and the cream does this really well. There's also much to be said about my frosting skills (or lack of it) with the blank patches at the bottom edges of the cake, but hey, for my first reluctant hand at this I think the blog and I can finally move forward and put this whole thing behind us.
This cake is dedicated to the blog and to another great year of blogging. And with the blog going into a new chapter in the next coming months it's only fitting to set-off the move to London with this cake, I guess making layer cakes aren't all that bad (as she takes another forkful to her mouth).
And a big thank you to all the well wishers who voiced their delight and excitement about my up-coming move to the United Kingdom, I cannot wait.
Cocoa-Buttermilk Birthday Cake
Serves 12
Adapted from Baking From My Home to Yours
FOR THE CAKE
2 cups all-purpose flour
½ cup unsweetened cocoa powder
½ tsp baking powder
½ tsp baking soda
½ tsp salt
225g unsalted butter, at room temperature
1½ cup sugar
2 large eggs
2 egg yolks
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 cup buttermilk
110g bittersweet chocolate, melted and cooled (optional)
FOR THE CHOCOLATE MALT BUTTERCREAM
150g bittersweet chocolate, chopped coarsely
¼ cup (packed) brown sugar
2 tbsp malted milk powder
1 tbsp unsweetened cocoa powder
¼ cup boiling water
180g unsalted butter, at room temperature
pinch of salt
½ tsp vanilla extract
1½ cup confectioner’s sugar
FOR THE CREAM FILLING
200ml pure cream
2 tbsp confectioner’s sugar
Preheat oven to 180ºC.
Butter 2 x 22cm round springform cake tins, dust the insides with flour and line the bottoms with parchment paper.
MAKING THE CAKE
Whisk together flour, cocoa, baking powder, baking soda and salt.
Using a stand mixer with paddle attachment or hand mixer in a large bowl; beat the butter on medium speed until soft and creamy.
Add the sugar and beat for 2 minutes.
Add eggs one at a time, then yolks, beating 1 minute after each addition.
Beat in vanilla extract.
Reduce mixer speed and add the dry ingredients alternatively with buttermilk, staring and ending with dry ingredients. Mix only until each new batch is blended into batter.
Add the melted chocolate and fold in with rubber spatula (optional).
Divide batter between two cake tins.
Bake for 26-30 minutes or until cakes feel springy to the touch and start to pull away from the sides of the tins.
Transfer cakes to racks and cool for 5 minutes.
Run a knife around the sides of the cakes and unmould. Peel off parchment paper and invert and cool to room temperature.
MAKING THE BUTTERCREAM
Melt the chocolate with half the brown sugar in a bowl set over a saucepan of simmering water. Remove from heat.
Whisk the malt powder and cocoa together in a small bowl, pour over 3 tsp boiling water and whisk until smooth.
Gradually whisk in hot malt-cocoa mixture with melted chocolate- it should be dark smooth and glossy. Set aside.
Beat butter until soft and fluffy and add the remaining sugar and beat for another 2-3 minutes, until well blended.
Beat in salt and vanilla.
Scrape in chocolate mixture and mix until smooth.
Gradually add the confectioner’s sugar and beat for a couple of minutes, then add the remaining tablespoon of boiling water and beat until well blended.
It should be thick enough to use immediately. If it doesn’t hold its shape then beat it a just a bit more.
MAKING THE FILLING
Whisk cream into stiff peaks, it should be able to hold its shape properly.
Sift in confectioners sugar and fold into cream.
ASSEMBLING THE CAKE
Place one layer top side up on a cardboard round or a cake plate protected by strips of parchment paper.
Spread the top of this layer with cream filling.
Cover with second layer.
Frost the sides and top of the cake either smoothing buttercream for a sleek look of using a spatula, knife of spoon to swirl for more exuberant look.
Refrigerate the cake for at least 1 hour to set the frosting then bring it to room temperature before serving.
You might not have noticed but posts have been particularly sparse on the blog lately, and it partly has something to do with the little announcement that I am making on the blog today. The news flash, might be exciting for some, or not so much for others but either which way there are no doubt still many food possibilities that lie ahead on the blogging front. So don't worry, I'm not going to turn into a knitting blog or anything. Not that I dislike knitting blogs but it's just that I don't know how to knit, not even a sock puppet, or a scarf, so I say stick to what you know.
Well, eating is what I know, and food, especially those of the sugary persuasion will still be the focus of the blog, and really nothing will change except for my location. So let's see if you can guess where Milk and Cookies is headed to this August for two years? The clue is in this dish.
Guessed it yet? I'm pretty sure this clue is a dead give away. So indeed, it's true, to the possible dismay of many Londoners, I am going to the land of the eternal pub crawl or at least I hope it is, and will be checking out what the city has to offer in terms of food.
Hey, maybe I'll run into Jamie Oliver at the Borough Markets and ask him why my banana and honey bread more resembled baseballs rather than bread rolls. But I'd much rather run into Rick Stein any day, I love how he's such and advocate for British food and produce no matter how much of a bad rap it gets. Too bad he won't have Chalky with him though, that dog was the shiz.
But there you have it, I'm on my way to the northern hemisphere, I'm doubtful about how it compares to its southern counterpart, but I guess it's home for a couple of years.
So I'm sure you don't need a recipe to make bangers and mash, but here's one for the onion gravy that I pinched from Jane and Jeremy Strode of Bistrode.
Onion Gravy
makes about one-half cup
100g unsalted butter
1 tsp brown sugar
2 medium onions, sliced thinly
1 tsp red wine vinegar
200ml beef stock
sea salt
fresh cracked black pepper
Melt butter in a heavy-based saucepan over low heat.
Add sugar and onions.
Cook slowly until caramelised, about 30 minutes.
Add vinegar and cook for another five minutes.
Add stock and season with salt and pepper and simmer for 15 minutes until sauce has thickened.
