If you’ve come here for a debate about the provenance of the humble lamington, you’ve come to the wrong place. Heck, I can’t even spell lamington properly. I keep wanting to type lamginton! So, no argument here. Hey, I’m multicultural, baby. Take it to the world; make it global. It exists here, and that’s all that matters.

Here’s another take on the lamginton.. I mean, lamington! To call it a lamington might be stretching definitions a little bit, as it consists of a chocolate mousse cake/pudding, topped with warm chocolate ganache and toasted coconut. The mousse cake is a revelation. It’s so light, yet intensely chocolatey and moist, oh yes, it’s moist. It’s so moist I have trouble saying the word moist while my mouth is full of moisture injected lamington. It reminds me a little of the warm chocolate fondants we used to make at a bistro in the city. These ones, I think, are even better, so I don’t really mind what they’re called. Like I said before, I’m global, pan-wordable, choco-cultural, whatever.

This recipe comes from the head chef, Kate Fay, of an Auckland restaurant called Cibo. She used to work at the French Cafe, which incidentally also has a beautiful book out at the moment; one that is as high on my list of must-gets, as the Pier one was when it was first released. She serves the baby chocolate lamingtons with a wedge of coconut parfait, drizzled with more chocolate ganache, but I’ve gone for simple and used vanilla ice-cream instead.

Baby Chocolate Lamingtons :
(serves 8; from Cibo : Food with Attitude by Kate Fay and Jeremy Turner)

For the mousse cakes :
225g unsalted butter
320g dark good-quality chocolate
6 eggs, separated
135g caster sugar
100g flour, sifted

Preheat the oven to 150’C.

Butter and flour eight small brioche moulds.

Melt the butter and chocolate in a metal bowl over a saucepan of boiling water.

Beat the egg yolks and sugar until thick and pale. Fold in the chocolate and butter mixture, then add the flour. In a separate bowl, whisk the egg whites to soft peaks, then fold into the chocolate mixture.

Pour the batter into the moulds to fill three-quarters of the way up the sides and bake for 15-20 minutes.

Take care not to overcook; the inside of the cakes should still be slightly soft.

Cool the cakes in their moulds and turn out when cool.

For the chocolate ganache:
1 cup cream
200g dark chocolate

Bring the cream to the boil in a small saucepan. Melt the chocolate in a double-boiler. When the chocolate has melted, whisk in the warm cream. Set aside and keep warm.

Before serving, place the mousse cakes on a rack. Coat with the warm chocolate ganache and sprinkle with some toasted shredded coconut.

[Note: I used metal dariole moulds, and baked the mousse cakes for 15 minutes, which I thought was just right, but could even have been cooked for maybe 1 minute less than that, for an even softer middle.]

As I bite into the blondie, I’m not convinced about what they say. Blondes can’t possibly have more fun. Blondies are brownies, but without the dark chocolate. Which hardly seems the point. These taste good and are very moist and chewy with a lovely caramel tone, but somehow, something seems missing. Something in the form of wickedly dark, velvety chocolate, that greets you like an old friend.

Which is why I’m sitting here, staring at the rest of the blondie, stuck for something to say to chronicle it’s existence. Our dialogue has reached an impasse. Silence hangs in the air like a tapestry of walnuts and white chocolate, with frayed ends signifying some kind of lack. Lack, of dark chocolate. Lack of an old friend.

Soo.. what brings you here?

Wait, don’t answer that. I already know. I decided to make a batch the other day out of curiosity. B’s friend at work had asked him for a white chocolate brownie recipe with absolutely no dark chocolate in it. Not something I’m very familiar with, so I was up to the challenge. I made these using Sue Lawrence’s recipe from her fabulous and highly reliable Book of Baking. To the mix I added chopped walnuts and white chocolate buttons. The end result was given a generous thumbs up. For me however, my heart will always belong to dark chocolate brownies.

Blondie sneaks a polite glance at her watch.

Sooo.., I say, cup of tea then?

—

An old friend and I met up for lunch yesterday. Seeing as she is finally working in the city at her relatively new job and I’m a woman of leisure, never could the twain meet at such an hour until now. We grabbed some takeaway from Plan B : savoury muffin, coffee, quiche, juice. As luck would dictate, just as we paid for our meagre items, two plates of the cutest, tallest wagyu burgers landed on the counter, ready to be delivered into hungry hands waiting outside. Damn. I want one of those. Maybe next time. Meanwhile, we convened at Hyde Park and talked about turning thirty (yes, she is an old friend after all.. 😉 ) and tuberculosis (I love having doctor friends). My savoury muffin (ham and onion; a third of which was a victim of a snatch-and-run by a hungry ibis) rated a meh on the meh-o-meter and the coffee was thin, but she approved of her quiche. Definitely the wagyu burger next time.

Plan B
204 Clarence St
Sydney 2000.

braise
[BRAYZ]
A cooking method by which food (usually meat or vegetables) is first browned in fat, then cooked, tightly covered, in a small amount of liquid at low heat for a lengthy period of time. The long, slow cooking develops flavor and tenderizes foods by gently breaking down their fibers.

One thing you can’t begrudge Winter for, despite the grey skies and cold winds that sting your ears and catch in your throat, is the saving grace of braises. Braises, casseroles, hot pots – these used (and probably still are) to be the norm in most households. The one-pot-wonder that feeds the entire family. For me, they have become a bit of a luxury because of the time they often require in the oven. It is time I usually don’t have once I’m home from work and am feeling ravenous.

You may wonder why I don’t simply leave the pot in the oven to do it’s thing while I go about my day. Well, apart from being a mildly paranoid person to begin with, who could never leave anything unmanned at the stove or in the oven, I’m often reminded of the time my sister and I got back from school, to be greeted by a house full of smoke. The culprit? A pie, now black and cindery, in the microwave which my mom had decided to use, while she was out picking us up from school. Hilarious now that I think about it, but scary at the time because we thought the house was on fire.

Another reason to love a good luxurious braise, is it’s use of non-luxurious cuts of meat like the shoulder and neck, which I find thrillingly cheap compared to fillets which can make for quite boring eating at the same time.

For this recipe, I used 700g of pork shoulder, on the bone, which I asked the lady behind the counter to chop into chunks for me. My original intention was to make a Burmese pork dish from the same recipe book, but I couldn’t find the required green mango for the dish, so decided to make this Indonesian one instead. After adding the liquids and bringing it to a boil, I covered the pot and finished the cooking in the oven. In about 1 1/2 to 2 hours, the sauce had reduced and the meat was extremely tender and very flavoursome. It didn’t need any extra seasoning at all. I served this with rice and a side of brussel sprouts sprinkled with balachaung. The original recipe by Wendy Hutton is below.

Spicy Balinese Pork :
(Babi Masak Kecap; from Green Mangoes and Lemon Grass by Wendy Hutton)

4-6 large red chillies, sliced
8 shallots, minced
4 cloves garlic, minced
5cm ginger, minced
1 teaspoon dried shrimp paste, toasted
3 tablespoons oil
600g pork shoulder, in 2 cm slices, cut in 3cm squares
3 tablespoons sweet soy sauce
1 tablespoon lime juice
375ml water
salt to taste

Process the chillies, shallots, garlic, ginger and shrimp paste to a smooth paste in a spice grinder, adding a little oil if necessary to keep the blades turning.

Heat the oil in a wok or saucepan with a heavy base, then add the chilli paste and stir-fry over low-medium heat, 4 minutes. Add the pork and stir-fry over medium heat until it has changed colour, about 5 minutes.

Add the soy sauce, lime juice and water. Bring to the boil, cover, and simmer over low heat, stirring occasionally, until the pork is tender and sauce has thickened, about 1 hour. Taste and add salt if desired. Transfer to a serving dish and serve hot with steamed white rice and vegetables.