I am experiencing an Oprah moment. No, not one of those moments when she makes you realise you can solve all of life’s problems by reducing the number of wire hangers in your closet. Rather, I’ve bitten into a chocolate eclair and silence overwhelms me for a split second, before I moan, Oh, honey, hush! The audience roars in approval and in an instant, women are up from their seats, crying in joy when told they’re all getting free eclairs as well.

I recall at Tafe, when we were told that eclairs and profiteroles were good items to have on any menu because they were cheap to produce. Unfortunately a surfeit of cheap ingredients does not necessarily a good dessert make, which is what put me off eclairs to begin with. I’d tasted too many eclairs filled with imitation cream and compound chocolate, to ever consider the fact that they were worth making at home.

It wasn’t until a chance encounter with a slim finger of an eclair at Sadaharu Aoki’s patisserie in Tokyo, that I discovered how good these pastries can be, and how Oprah might approve of them too. Toothsome, silky, creamy and flavoursome; one bite alone reminded me of those TV ads featuring ladies who seem to do nothing all day but walk around langurously in expensive evening gowns, bathe in milk and eat Magnum ice-creams. Or Cadbury’s Milk Tray (“All because the lady loves…”)

So I was incredibly happy to have managed to find some time to complete this month’s DB Challenge (and all because I now love….) : Pierre Herme’s Chocolate Eclairs! Usually I like to put my own spin on a recipe but this time I decided to stick to what was given. Partly, because I don’t recall ever having made chocolate pastry cream before and was keen to give it a go. Otherwise it would have been too tempting to have a range of different fillings, such as green tea, raspberry or banana caramel!

These eclairs are indeed Oprah-worthy. It is the sum of their parts that makes the whole, well worth the effort. Choux pastry if eaten plain is a bit boring; chocolate pastry cream, licked from the spoon is a bit meh, although the chocolate glaze is lovely and bittersweet. Combine all three components together, and you have fireworks.. or a standing ovation.

Thank you to Tony and Meeta who picked this month’s challenge. Check out their blogs for the recipe and don’t forget to look at what other fellow Daring Bakers came up with!

There is a particular section at work that seems to defeat most people. I haven’t been working in this restaurant for terribly long and already I’ve seen more people come and go, than any other place I’ve worked in. The latest casualty, was a bit of a surprise to us all, considering he was a lovely guy and seemed to be going really well. One morning when he was supposed to be in for a shift, he rang up saying he didn’t want to work here anymore because he wasn’t enjoying it.

What happens when someone does this is, they look like a complete wanker (for lack of a better word) for starters. Also, the recently departed usually forces everyone else to pick up the slack by having to work extra shifts.

I mean, sure, it’s a tough kitchen. One of the toughest I’ve ever been in, and I know I would struggle too, if I was working on any section but pastry. So you don’t blame people when they decide the place isn’t for them. Rather, what annoys me is the way in which they choose to leave. At least the guy mentioned above rang up. Most just don’t bother turning up the next day, after a difficult shift the evening before. When they pack away their knives, saying that they’re taking them home to be sharpened, it’s highly likely they won’t be back. The one that really takes the cake is the guy who arrived for a trial, and having decided after two hours that he wasn’t interested in working here, just kind of gathered his tools up and disappeared. No thank you, goodbye, nothing.

Does this happen in any other industry? If not, what is wrong with this industry! Forget menu planning – maybe they need to teach How to Leave your Place of Employment In a Professional Manner 101 at cooking school.

All this ranting has left me without much idea of what to say about the dessert pictured above. The hunter-gatherer instinct is strong in the boy, even if it only extends as far as bringing home sushi and the occasional pretzel from our favourite German bakery. A couple of days ago, he came home with a handful of green apples. We both love apples in either tarts or crumbles, and this time I thought we could incorporate the best of both worlds. Yesterday evening, he cracked open a bottle of wine, I put on Nina Simone, made pasta, we watched Son of Rambow, and later there was apple crumble tart for dessert. One of those good days… 🙂

Oh the weather outside is frightful,
But the fire is so delightful,
And since we’ve no place to go,
Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!
— Sammy Cahn and Jules Styne.

It never snows where I live, but sometimes, it gets so cold that you almost feel as though wearing three layers and a scarf is not nearly enough. Winter sends some people into the doldrums. It’s too cold to go to the beach, too rainy, it gets dark too early, and we certainly do miss all those glistening Summer berries and brightly coloured stonefruit. What Winter does have to is advantage however, are comforting fruits such as quinces, beautifully fragrant pears, and of course, versatile citrus fruits such as cumquats, lemons and mandarins.

When the chill sets in, I up my hot tea intake. Correspondingly, the pudding consumption meter soars too. Several nights ago, it was slices of spicy fruit cake. Yesterday evening, we had warm chocolate cake with ice-cream. Today, I’ve rediscovered the humble rice pudding. While the rest of the world is flaunting ruby red cherries, bunches of sweet grapes, plums, apricots and donut peaches, I’m all set over here to celebrate Winter, rather than commiserate on what I might be missing out on. I’ve got my fuzzy jumper, slipper socks, wool rug, a big pot of Marco Polo tea and my rice pudding. This one is flavoured with one of my favourite Winter fruits : Mandarins. Mandarins, made into a jelly with mandarin rice pudding, mandarin segments and rice snowflakes. The snowflakes are made by cutting rice paper into snowflake shapes, dousing them in sugar syrup and baking them in a low oven until crisp. The mandarin segments add a burst of freshness to the dish and are spiced with ras el hanout, which contributes a little bit of heat and delight to a cold Winter palate.

Ras el hanout is a special Middle Eastern/North African spice blend. It literally means “top of the shop” and signifies the best blend a spice shop has to offer. Every shop’s blend is usually a secret combination of spices. You might already have your favourite recipe for ras el hanout, but I quite like this one by Janni Kyritsis, which is wonderful in savoury pies or even simply sprinkled over orange segments and eaten with honey and yogurt.

Ras el hanout :
(makes about 3 1/2 tablespoons; from Wild Weed Pie by Janni Kyritsis)

1 tablespoon green cardamom pods (3 teaspoons ground)
1 large cinnamon stick (3 teaspoons ground)
1 small nutmeg (1 1/2 teaspoons ground)
1 teaspoon cloves (3/4 teaspoon ground)
2 teaspoons white peppercorns (3 teaspoons ground)
2 teaspoons black peppercorns (3 teaspoons ground)
1 teaspoon ground cayenne pepper

Remove seeds from cardamom pods. Crumble cinnamon sticks. Chop nutmeg into small pieces. Combine all spices and grind using a mortar and pestle or a spice and coffee grinder. Pass through a fine sieve and regrind anything that’s left behind. Store in an airtight container in a cool, dark cupboard.