My version of Beatrice Ojakangas’ Viipuri Pretzel turned out a little more bulbous than I expected. When I pulled it out of the oven, I had to chuckle. It looked like a pretzel on steroids; I could see it going, “Me, Pretzel!”, thumping it’s sugar crusted chest triumphantly, while his equally large siblings looked on. Unlucky for it, it was too delicious to leave alone. I pinched off a bit, and then a bit more, and soon the pretzel was conquered. “This. Is. Delicious!” I hollered, in my best King Leonidas voice.

Viipuri pretzel, or Viipurinrinkeli, is a traditional pretzel shaped sweet bread named after a city in eastern Finland. I was drawn to it for several reasons. Firstly, it’s pretzel shaped, which panders to my obsession with all things pretzel. Then, there’s the copious use of spices, which I love in sweet breads (the smell of cardamom filled the kitchen, even when just at the kneading stage). Finally, there’s an interesting traditional method attached to the making of the bread. In the days of old, the shaped and proved dough would have been dipped in boiling water like you would a bagel, before it was baked on a bed of oat straw, which imparted an added flavour to the end product.

As my resulting dough was quite soft, I envisioned problems trying to lower it into a pot of boiling water, and so decided to leave tradition for another time (if I ever get my hands on some oat straw). Maybe next time, I will also make my pretzels smaller!

Viipuri pretzels are absolutely delicious with a cup of tea, and are my contribution to Bread Baking Day #6, as hosted by Eva of Sweet Sins.

Viipuri Pretzel :
(from The Great Scandinavian Baking Book by Beatrice Ojakangas; makes 3 loaves)

1 package (7g) active dry yeast
1/4 cup warm water
2 eggs
2 cups milk, scalded and cooled to lukewarm
1 cup sugar
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons freshly ground cardamom
1/2 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
5 to 5 1/2 cups unbleached plain flour
1/4 cup softened butter

Glaze :
(optional)

1 slightly beaten egg
2 tablespoons milk
pearl sugar or crushed sugar cubes

In a large bowl, dissolve the yeast in the warm water. Let stand 5 minutes. Add the eggs, milk, sugar, salt, cardamom, and nutmeg and beat well until blended. Add 4 cups flour and beat until smooth. Stir in the butter and add flour until dough is stiff. Cover and let dough rest 15 minutes.

Turn dough out onto a lightly floured board. Knead, adding flour to prevent stickiness, until smooth and satiny, about 10 minutes. Wash bowl, grease it, and add dough to the bowl, turning it over to grease top. Cover and let rise in a warm place until doubled.

Cover 3 baking sheets with parchment paper or grease them and sprinkle with flour.

Turn dough out onto a lightly oiled work surface. Divide into 3 parts. Between hands and work surface, roll out each part of dough to make strands about 40 inches (100cm) long. Place on the prepared baking sheets in the form of a pretzel. Cover with a towel and let rise until almost doubled, about 45 minutes.

Preheat oven to 400’F (204’C).

Mix the egg and milk to make a glaze. Brush pretzels all over with the glaze and sprinkle with the sugar.

Bake for 20-25 minutes until golden. Do not overbake. Remove from oven and cool on racks.

There’s a restaurant in Crows Nest that rather bafflingly (to me), is called Pinnocchio Chinese Restaurant. Either it’s an Italian/Chinese fusion restaurant, or.. I can’t even imagine what the other reason behind it’s name would be.

Excellent Chinese Seafood Restaurant in Carlingford, is another intriguingly named restaurant that either sets itself up for ridicule and failure, or perhaps it manages to surprise by delivering as much as it promises. I enter, indulging in the former, and come away praising it for being more of the latter.

There are two reasons to go to this restaurant, but the service isn’t one of them. If you want the cliched example of a Chinese restaurant with bad service, Excellent Chinese Seafood Restaurant would probably make it into the dictionary. During this visit, plates are thrown down onto the table with such angry determination that I feel as though the waiter is about to shout at us any second; for daring to enter the establishment, or for bringing noisy kids (the 7 yr old is showing me magic tricks by forcing me to shut my eyes while she hides the pink napkins behind her back).

So if not for the service, the first reason to visit would be to have the Vermicelli Crab Hotpot, which this restaurant is apparently famous for. It is a deviation from the salt and pepper norm that my family usually loves and as salt and pepper is my favourite way to eat crab, I was initially sceptical of anything that would mask the crab in such a large mound of vermicelli noodles. As it turns out, Vermicelli Hotpot could now well be my second favourite way to have crab. The sauce is delicious, the noodles moreish, and the crab is of course, juicy and very well cooked.

On this my second visit, we accompany the crab with salt and pepper squid, salt and pepper fish (did I mention I like salt and pepper?), garlic stir-fried kangkung, tofu pockets stuffed with mushroom, fried pipis and sizzling beef (there are two things my brother must have when in a Chinese restaurant : Crab and beef; surf and turf) – All of which are either very good, or excellent (as it were).

Then comes the second reason to visit Excellent Chinese Seafood Restaurant : the deep fried ice-cream at the end of the meal. If you like that sort of thing, you’ll love these crumbed boulders that they serve here. I say boulders, because they’re the biggest versions of d.f.i.c I’ve ever encountered. Positively planetary. Lucky you get a fork and spoon with this dessert, or it would be like trying to excavate your way out of an icy situation armed with only a toothpick.

If you don’t like fried ice-cream, well, there’s still that one reason to visit this restaurant, and let me assure you, it’s a very worthwhile (possibly, excellent) reason indeed!

Excellent Chinese Seafood Restaurant
Carlingford Rd (cnr Carlingford Rd & Rembrandt St)
Carlingford 2118

I suppose I should start by mentioning that I used to work here. Hence the copious amount of attention and the freebies of some of their signature dishes. I also don’t often eat in places I work in, as I find it hard to judge the food; already biased as I would be, especially after having had such close contact with it, behind the scenes. Additionally, you spend so much time when you’re in the restaurant talking to everyone you work with, it feels like you’re already working on what’s meant to be a day off!

At the behest of B, we decided to treat a special guest who was staying with us, to a dinner at Aria Restaurant, to celebrate his birthday. Nothing quite beats Aria for amazing views, in an environment that is formal yet calm and very comfortable.

What of the food? It was a selection of some of their signature dishes that blew me away the very first time I ate at Aria, and that still really impresses me to this day. Peking duck consomme is rich and earthy in appearance, with a clear and bright punch of flavour. The scampi wrapped in Brik pastry, served with gremolata is a deceptively simple dish that manages to be both teeth-shatteringly crisp and unbelievably juicy at the same time. How was it?, the fabulous Guiseppe enquired as he cleared away our empty plates. I shut my eyes for a moment. Guiseppe, it was unbelievable. You really need to be sitting at the table, in front of the Opera House and Harbour Bridge, eating this perfect piece of scampi, to understand why it has been such a longstanding dish on the menu. It really doesn’t taste the same when you’re standing in the hot and sweaty kitchen, chewing on a scrap of one fried an hour ago, that was bartered by the hot entrees guy for a spoonful of ice-cream.

Aria Restaurant
1 Macquarie Street
East Circular Quay
Sydney 2000