Another birthday.

(Not mine! I’m not ageing that quickly. I hope.)

This one celebrates another year with a salted caramel chocolate cake. Based on Pierre Herme’s Faubourg Pave, with extra caramel shards flecked with cocoa nibs and vanilla salt, and truffles.

(Because life should get sweeter and richer, as you get older. 🙂 )

Cocoa Cake :
(enough for two Faubourg Paves; recipe for ganache here; from Chocolate Desserts by Pierre Herme)

1/3 cup plus 1 tablespoon (40g) Dutch-processed cocoa powder
1/4 cup (35g) cake flour
3 1/2 tablespoons potato starch
5 1/2 tablespoons (75g) unsalted butter
9 large egg yolks, at room temperature
1 1/4 cups (150g) sugar
5 large egg whites, at room temperature

Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 180’C. Butter two 18 x 9cm loaf pans,m then line the pans with baking paper.

Sift together the cocoa powder, cake flour, and potato starch and keep close at hand. Melt the butter and set it aside to cool until it is barely warm to the touch.

Working in a mixer fitted with the whisk attachment, beat the egg yolks and 1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons (75g) of the sugar on medium-high speed, scraping down the sides of the bowl as needed, until the mixture is thick and pale, about 5 minutes. If you do not have a second mixer bowl, scrape the thickened egg yolks into a large bowl and wash and dry your mixer bowl; wash and dry the whisk attachment in any case.

Fit the mixer with the clean, dry bowl and whisk and whip the egg whites at medium speed just until they form soft peaks. Gradually add the remaining sugar and beat until the peaks are firm and shiny.

Working with a large rubber spatula and a light hand, fold the sifted dry ingredients and one-quarter of the beaten whites into the yolk mixture. Stir a few tablespoons of this mixture into the cooled melted butter, stirring to incorporate the butter as much as possible, then add the butter and the remaining whites to the yolk. Working quickly and gently, fold everything together.

Pour the batter into the prepared pans – it should come three-quarters of the way up the sides – then slide the pans into the oven. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes. A slender knife inserted into the center of the cake should come out clean.

To cool the loaves, allow them to rest for 3 minutes in their pans, then gently unmold them onto cooling racks, delicately lift off the baking paper, and turn the cakes right side up to cool at room temperature.

(Welsh vanilla salt, pure vanilla extract, Lindt chocolate buttons)

(clockwise, from top left corner : chocolate macaron (a strawberry crumble tart hiding underneath), cannele, chocolate brownie, ginger ninja cookie, another cannele)

I was going to tell you about the glorious twice-bitten cannele I had sitting in front of me. Another two bites later however, and it’s suddenly all gone. Caramelised on the outside, custardy on the inside. The stuff deep sighs and satisfied smiles are made from. Today I tried to convince my Wednesday lunch buddy to make the trip to Newtown to visit Christopher The’s new shop, Black Star Pastry. She was reluctant to spend a portion of her precious lunch hour on a train, so we settled on sandwiches and coffee from Luneburger before I said goodbye to her and hello to Newtown and those canneles.

I read about his shop in Good Living yesterday (ah, so that’s what he’s been up to!), and what got me really excited was spotting the little canneles at the bottom right hand corner of the picture accompanying the blurb. In case you’re wondering what the fuss is all about, well, I can’t remember the last time I saw a cannele in a shop in Sydney. The last cannele I had was in Tokyo. We stumbled across a stall selling vanilla and chocolate versions, bought some even though we weren’t hungry, and later were filled with regret at not having bought more. So yes, you could attribute part of their appeal, to their elusiveness. I have never attempted making them myself, and perhaps it’s about time I did!

In the meantime, I think everyone should visit Black Star Pastry. It’s a small shop located on Australia Street, right next to Oscillate Wildly. It has a simple, rustic, pared back (budget friendly) set up that reminds me of sixsevenate in Chippendale, when George Sinclair and Lorraine Godsmark were running the place. I worked with them for about a year, and always longed for a similar sort of cafe/pastry shop in my own neighbourhood. The kind of place you could go to and be assured of decent coffee, a quality pastry or two, and friendly, personable service.

Black Star has the advantage of being in a good location (even if someone apparently told them that the shop was cursed), opposite the train station. Their pastries are reasonably priced and very reasonably sized as well. I like small bites with coffee, and am definitely going back next week to have something savoury, this time with my Wednesday lunch buddy in tow.

Black Star Pastry
277 Australia St
Newtown 2042.

Also inspired by my love of small things, I made these burnt orange and elderflower creams based on a dish by Dan Hunter, which appeared in the Sept/Oct 2008 edition of V.EAT. The pineapple and macadamia polvoron are his recipes, but I based the cream recipe on another one I’ve used before. The original intention was to make passionfruit flavoured creams. I recently ate a passionfruit brulee that was out of this world – and this is coming from someone who isn’t usually terribly fussed about brulees (or passionfruit, for that matter). But passionfruit brulees certainly work for me. Passionfruits were horribly expensive that day, so I used orange juice and elderflower cordial instead. Surprisingly, the end result was quite passionfruit-like!

This is a dish that could easily be converted into a dessert canape, especially if like me, you love the shape of small things. 🙂

So. I’ve been in a bit of a mini baking frenzy recently. The restaurant was closed for a few days to do some renovations (the floor in the hot part of the kitchen is badly cracked and split, for example), and I gleefully seized the opportunity to absolve myself of any responsibilities for those days (excepting having lunch in the city with a friend who is newly engaged) and barricaded myself at home with bags of flour and sugar. I even piked out on the Work Christmas Party, which is pretty bad of me I know.

But I promise you I have been using the time wisely.

November seems to be shaping up to be Love-Helen-Month in the Lemonpi household. I saw Helen’s post about her award-winning chilli recipe and made a lunge for it immediately. The boy loves chilli, you see. I make a batch of it on a vaguely regular basis. However, I’ve always thought in the back of my mind that my basic recipe could be somehow improved.

Helen’s recipe, I think, let me in on a few important secrets. The use of roasted garlic and chillis, for example (remembering the smell that filled my kitchen while the garlic was roasting, still makes me smile). The hand-cutting of the meat (as opposed to using ready-made mince, which is often minced too finely for what chilli should really be like) and that final flourish : a tiny bit of bittersweet chocolate stirred into the pot at the end, to enrichen it. All these and more, are what have made a big difference so far.

For this first attempt, I was forced to substitute a few ingredients based on what I could find on the day. Those pesky peppers, for example. Instead of habaneros, I used jalapenos, which are pretty hot, though I think they are probably a bit limp-wristed in comparison to habaneros. I also eschewed dried kidney beans in favour of black beans, which I had a big packet of. (A massive packet, in fact. Beans to last me for days. Beans I could be a bean-llionaire with, if ever adzukis, chickpeas, limas and turtles became the new currency.)

Cooking your own beans instead of using the tinned stuff is great especially if you happen to have the time to do it. Soak the dried beans in cold water the day before and the next day, bring them up to boil in plenty of fresh water, then simmer until cooked. Soaking the beans shortens the total cooking time and is apparently also the key to avoiding beans being the notoriously musical fruit we all know and love. You can also throw some aromats into the pot while the beans are simmering, to boost the flavour (and season with salt towards the end of the cooking time), but I skipped this step because I was planning on using part of the batch for some black bean brownies.

Yes, you heard right! Black.Bean.Brownies.!

It’s not often I find myself having time to bake from other blogs, even though I have tons and tons of bookmarked recipes, and I certainly never thought I’d find myself baking vegan, but I’m a big fan of Celine’s beautiful blog and lately I haven’t been able to take my mind off those tempting bites she offers up, like pumpkin chocolate chip cookies and black bean brownies.

These brownies were fun to make (you could say it was almost liberating, not working with eggs and butter for a change!) but are by no means the perfect brownie. However, I can see where they are heading, and Celine promises that an even better recipe is on it’s way, so keep an eye out for it!

In the meantime, B is due back from San Francisco soon. I’ve got the dinner and the dessert prepared. All I need now is the boy. 🙂