"You have to love either what you are going to eat, or the person you are cooking for. Then you have to give yourself up to cooking. Cuisine is an act of love."

-ALAIN CHAPEL, Chef (1937-1990)

Thursday, September 10, 2015

Oily, waxy beef stock “cube”

More often than not, beef cubes let us cheat.  I’m all for making as much things from the scratch but let’s face it not many of us have the time to constantly brew our own broth and fridge for future use.  So I cheat.  Always!  Well most of the time.  And when I do, most beef cubes diluted in water will leave an oily surface that can make your soup or stews turn waxy on top.  Sometimes I want to make clear clean soup where I don’t sauté anything but just boil my ingredients directly.  Using oily waxy beef stocks kinda give people the impression that my dish is not wholly healthy, you know what I mean.  

So I found a way to get rid of that waxy layer…

Simply dilute your beef stock in hot water.  Once stirred and completely diluted, just add a handful of ice.  The oil will immediately waxed out.  And when it’s time to pour the stock to your dish, use a filter.  That’s it! 

P/s - let me know if you'd like a visual reference by leaving a message.  Ta!

Saturday, August 13, 2011

August's Fix

Mille Crepeophilia
My 2 ladies, Jiji & Mun, and me were on high alert as we drove through an unfamiliar turf.  There was a collective sense of urgency, yet trying to remain calm as not to err, as time is not on our side.  We were on a mission.  A serious mission to fix our cravings for Mille Crepe.  And there is only one place in town that can provide this very rapture, Food Foundry.
Like a druggie during a withdrawal phase, we were paranoid and anxious, our hearts were racing, delirium by the very thought that what if, just what if they ran out of it?  What if another Mille Crepophile just walks in and, “Give me all you have.”  What’s to happen to us?  Driving away after all that frenzy, with empty hands and stomach; lost, hurt and rage of frustration, not knowing elsewhere that enables... 3 unstable women, and with all that ferocity, we could have hurt someone.  Not good.  

In throes of madness, one of us was smart enough to still think.  Jiji suggested we call up the place.  A phone call was made.  To reserve 3 slices of deliciousness to the woman on the end of the line, who must have thought we were very desperate.  Obviously.  But our desperation is well reasoned, you see, as there were only 6 pieces left, and the shop was closing in 20 minutes.  That damn call saved our soul.  Hope restored. 

Arrived, at last.  “The recently reserved 3 slices, please.”  For the first 10 minutes, moans and groans at our table, almost like Sally’s, only not faked.  Thank god there were no children.  We had no shame.  Spoonful after spoonful of tender layers of cream and crepes (thin to perfection) separating blissfully by movement of the tongue, awakening the gustatory calculi, sigh... ecstasy. 

We were tranquillized and seemingly sane again.

Monday, July 11, 2011

Medium Raw by Anthony Bourdain

Medium Fucking Raw!

Whether it's the food industry, renowned chefs, food writers, beloved figures of celebrity cooks, Anthony Bourdain is uncontainable as he unleashes wild fury on his targets.  He is one man without shame. 

He is a bad, BAD man. 

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

June's Craving Fix

The Call of a Black Forest

There is that day in each month where my body will crave for something sweet, most likely something with chocolate, dark and or bittersweet.  Come to think of it, I always end up with chocolate.  Whether it's a hint of it or all out rich chocolate dessert like brownies from Delicious.  Today was one of those days.  I drove all the way to Ben’s General Food Store for a taste of that deliciously rustic looking triple layered Black Forest cake that been enticing me from behind the refrigerated glass display on my first visit there.  First thing that came to my mind, “That looks sooo good!”  Followed by, “I want to bake cakes that look like that.”  I had to have it!  But due to a full stomach from the main course and limited amount of cash, I unwillingly declined the call.

So few days went by the image of that Black Forest still lingers, I turned on the TV to watch MasterChef Australia.  3 of its unlucky contestants were put in the pressure test.  The Star dish was this beautiful rustic Black Forest Cake, very much like that at Ben’s GFS.  This is a sign!  I have to not just taste it but make one until it turns out at least as divinely superb or even better.

I showed up at BGFS for the second time.  There weren’t any whole cake but the very last piece.  With a sense of urgency, the waiter booked the cake and had it served on my table in less than 3 minutes.  Here’s what was on the plate:  a generous portion of 3 layers of chocolate sponge, compact yet so moist and soft, the middle layer submerged of thin coat of, I suspect, grape jelly?  Dark cherries lovingly nestled in dark chocolate mousse, waiting to surprise in a crush of lucky random bites.  The cake is top full of fresh cream and chocolate curls and sprinkled all over with crunchy meringue crumbles.  The overall taste is superfine, not sugar sweet, just a hint of sweetness, which is exactly how I love my desserts.  It was like orgasm in heaven. 

For producing such wonderful delight, Ben’s deserve a ‘Like’ on the Facebook.  So my dear, dear readers, if you’re craving for Black Forest, try it.  But if you don’t like it, please don’t hate me.  It is after all but my humble taste bud.  If you do know a place that serves even better, then by all means do tell where, as I am on a mission of baking the best BF ever tasted all for my own personal cooking ambitions, pride and satisfaction.  And I will share; after all sharing is the love from Cook Love & Burn Scars.

Saturday, July 2, 2011

Homage to Grandy's Sin

Once upon a time there was a fast-food restaurant near our house called Grandy’s.  It was a minute drive away where we pilgrimage twice a week for our holy meals.  To my best recall, my orders consisted of Chicken Sandwich, Porridge and Coke from their endless soda fountain of free refills.  The Chicken Sandwich was so meaty I believe it's a whole chunk of real chicken meat, nicely coated with breadcrumbs in between two simply tasty buns.  The Porridge, let me tell y’all, came with a buffet bar of toppings with the likes of fried anchovies, sliced scallions, fried shallots, chopped golden deep-fried garlic, etc. 

But nothing can ever, EVER! beat their most heavenly item on the menu, the oh sooo sinful… Sinnamon Roll.  It was lusciously fluffy, with nuts and raisins peeping out in between the spiral, as sugar glaze carelessly tops over golden-crusted gorgeous ball of goodness.  As I bite into it, my teeth will first crack the frosted glaze followed by a spongy resistant of the fluffiness, yet delicate as it tears.  The dough was creamy as it melts on my tongue, bursting of flavors sweet, nutty crunch and a little hint of sour from the raisins.  Smell of cinnamon lingers in the olfactory well after my portion eaten, reminding me of that pleasurable consumption.  It was my first introduction and hitherto, the best cinnamon roll I ever tasted.

It has been 2 decades since Grandy’s departure, and no other rolls have yet to replace Sinnamon Roll (SR).  It is a class of its own and no others come near.  I’ve yet to sample the celebrated Sticky Buns from Flour Bakery, as to do so requires some serious flying from Malaysia to Boston, USA.  I have to work within my limits; I’m going to bake one that best replicates Grandy’s SR.  And my first attempt was a recipe from Better Homes and Gardens New Cook Book, Limited Edition: Prizewinning Recipes.  

As I steadily fumbled my way with focused effort, I pray and pray as I bake that it will turn out nothing in the likes of Cinnabon (I have nothing against them, Grandy’s and I just click).  Coming out from the oven, they looked promising.  As I serve the rolls to my hungry nieces and nephew, whom have been lured into the kitchen by the smell of cinnamon baking in the oven that had pervaded the entire house, I anticipated eagerly on their expressions and critiques and… they unanimously loved it.  Songs of praises singing in my ears. 

Then I took that first bite.  At the same time thoughts in my head and the dreaded comment were verbalized… “It tastes just like Cinnabon only a lot better!”  Oh gosh.  I mean, they loved it and it's a good thing, the recipe works.  But Cinnabon? 

There are differences between SR and Cinnabon.  The latter’s dough isn’t as fluffy but more compact with slight rubbery crust.  The fillings weren’t memorable.  I was not as happy, and I will not give up.  This failure to achieve the desired texture leads me to dig deeper into types of available bread dough.  So I searched and found that brioche is actually the right dough to recreate SR.  Since the previous attempt was delicious for others, I took the best part of it, the filling (it was quite similar and lovely) and incorporated into my brioche.  This is also a reminder that a mistake is an opportunity to excel.  I had Nick Malgieri’s Bake! at hand.  With his brioche formula and previous recipe filling of raisin, pecan and brown sugar, I rolled out my mission for the second time.

And here’s what happened.  I ran out raisins, never mind, replace with dark chocolate chips.  Will it be too sweet?  Oh, let’s leave out the sugar glaze then.  Well how did it turn out?  Hmm… According to my 16-year-old niece, it’s more delicious the day after.  Straight off the oven, she thought the absence of raisins didn’t counter the sweets, plus the chocolate chips made it too heavy.  The next day she said she changed her mind and likes it the way it is.

Ok, but what about the bread texture, after all that is the goal?  To everyone’s consensus it was the right dough, not perfect, but the correct foundation.  I think I got it right to 70%.  The texture and fluff is nearly there, needs more creaminess, and I suspect Middle-Class brioche will speed me off to that 90% mark.  If I remember to stock raisins and add in the glaze, I might just make it to 95%.  Then, God help me, may the allusion of Grandy’s Sin be among us sinners.