Stephanie at Dispensing Happiness isn’t the only one finding herself surrounded by engaged or pregnant friends. Maybe it’s something in the air, but one of my dear friends Jaci recently got engaged (with a beautiful ring her now-fiance had specially designed to withstand the trials and tribulations of kitchen life), and two other friends are expecting babies in June.

So it won’t be long now before we’ll travel up to Newcastle for Bec’s babyshower. Funnily enough, none of us knew what a babyshower entailed exactly, since Bec is the first amongst us to have a baby. Some of the questions posed during the party planning were, “When exactly during the pregnancy does the party get held?” and, “Isn’t Bec supposed to throw the shower?”. I was equally mystified when S had a “kitchen tea” in the leadup to her wedding, several years ago.

I like the idea of having sweet treats at a baby or bridal shower. Little cupcakes iced in pastel shades, variations on the poppyseed muffin and chocolate brownies, for example, or my contribution to Stephanie’s Blog Party : mini treacle tarts. Moist and chewy mouthfuls with that warm comforting scent of golden syrup; they are easy to make especially if you already have the pastry at hand.

And I know Jaci would approve of these tarts. The recipe comes from Gordon Ramsay. Or our Gordon, as we used to call him. When Jaci and I worked together, Just Desserts, Stephanie’s Cooks Companion and Christine Manfield’s Desserts books were like bibles to us. Some of the books might seem a bit dated now, but the recipes are still as solid as ever. I like recipes that work on the first go, with results so good you’re not tempted to tweak them at all, and this one for a treacle tart mix is no exception.

The perfect accompaniment to this tart is of course (spoonfuls of vanilla ice-cream notwithstanding) a cup of freshly brewed tea.

Treacle Tart filling :
(enough for one large tart or 24 mini-muffin sized tarts)

300g golden syrup
85g fresh white breadcrumbs
60g ground almonds
1 large free-range egg, beaten
150ml double cream
about 4 tablespoons apricot jam, slightly warmed

Put the golden syrup, breadcrumbs, ground almonds, egg and cream in a food processor and whizz until smooth. For best results, chill this filling for 24 hours.

To bake, spoon some jam into the bottom of each pastry-lined tart shell. Spoon or pipe in the chilled filling, 3/4 of the way up. Bake for 10 minutes at 180’C, then lower the heat to 150’C and bake for a further 20 minutes. Allow to cool in the tins for 5-10 minutes before lifting each tart out to cool completely on a wire rack.

An electrical tribute. To all the kitchen appliances that have served us faithfully. (with apologies to the Beatles)

There are appliances I’ll remember
All my life though some have changed
Some forever not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these gadgets have their moments
With waiters and cooks I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I’ve loved them all

To the Thermomix. Beloved Thermomix. No one else in the kitchen seemed to like you much, but I did. I liked the way you didn’t sound like you were grinding metal every time you were turned on (KitchenAid Blender, take heed) and I loved that cute little *bing*! sound you made when your timer went off. So I don’t understand why you had to walk off that kitchen bench when someone’s back was turned that fateful day. Was the pumpkin puree too much to handle?

To our 70’s style Blender. Despite being the longest lasting blender in the kitchen thus far, everyone says you’re the worst blender in the world, which means no one else wants to use it and I have you all to myself.

To the Electric Juicer that electrocuted me and a couple of other people in the kitchen, you are dead to me now. I don’t ever want to see or use you again.

To the Food Processor that only works when you have the bowl fitted in at a certain angle, the blade jammed on really tightly, the lid twisted to just the right spot and the safety catch pressed down just so – none of which I’ve ever really mastered – keep on truckin’, mate.

To the Breville Sandwich Press. It’s been two months now, maybe a bit more. Thanks for lasting this long.

To the Oven and Stovetop supported by a pile of bricks. I still remember the day you fell at an angle and caused the closure of the restaurant for a whole dinner service.

KitchenAid Mixer #1, the repairman says you are, and I quote, “very sick”. Are you coming back?

KitchenAid Mixer #2, Hang in there, baby!

PacoJet #1, you’ve broken down so many times and caused so much angst that I can’t look you in the eye anymore. I have no more tears left for you.

PacoJet #2, come back soon please, I miss you.

I am suffering from diner envy. I feel like the woman in the deli, watching Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal’s characters in When Harry Met Sally. We are eating at Iwa, a relatively new Japanese restaurant in Chatswood and the table next to ours has ordered yakiniku. The stove comes as a large earthenware pot on top of which is a metal grill. A copper coloured exhaust is pulled down from the top of the table and waiters start dropping off plates of glistening meat and chopped vegetables which you cook yourself. The smell wafting over is smoky and wonderful. I want what they’re having!

Instead, we’re ordering little dishes off the prettily photographed menu. There’s a whole page on the menu dedicated to wagyu beef, which can’t be a bad thing. I’m not sure what to make of the look and feel of this place though. Faux gas lamps hanging from the ceiling, the log shaped stools, velveteen cushions and dark wood tables all evoke a sense of dining outside. I half expect to detect a scent of citronella burning and to see fireflies hovering above our heads. We are seated next to the kitchen pass (a dark bricked area), and can hear the chefs yelling, “Service!” from time to time. B finds it a bit distracting, but I don’t mind it, even though it does remind me of being at work.

The Beef Tataki appetiser comes as slices of beef topped with salad, red onion and a generous splash of a very delicious vinegary sauce. The beef is very tender, but the texture a little strange – somewhat reminiscent of corned beef. The Sea Bass with a spicy miso sauce arrives next as two pieces of fish with thick black slashes on the flesh due to time spent on the grill. It is well seasoned and is a good match with the sauce and cooling slices of cucumber. Again, a tasty dish, but the fish had the texture similar to that of cured fish, which was unexpected.

Next is the least successful dish of the evening : a Spicy Tuna Roll. The serve looks generous, but upon closer inspection, there is barely any tuna in the roll. Most of the filling is beefed up by fake crab stick – an item I don’t really think should feature in any kind of restaurant at all. It reminds me of that unsatisfying feeling I get whenever I pick up a $2 sushi roll from almost any takeaway sushi outlet in the city.

Being greedy, we finish our meal with a plate of superbly light and crispy Tempura. And here’s where it becomes advantageous to eat out with someone who’s more than just a friend : He doesn’t mind if I double dip the sauce, and I don’t mind when he tries to convince me that we both had one prawn each and that his just happened to have two tails!

Iwa Japanese Yakiniku Dining Room
380 Victoria Ave
Chatswood 2067.