It is on days like these when I’m on my 8th shift of the week, that I start to wonder about my sanity. Why do I do this to myself? Why did I pick this particular line of work, with which to bring home the bacon? Because, you know, haha, with the amount of money I’m earning, the bacon ain’t all that great! Why did I choose to work in a kitchen that feels like a furnace? Why am I working with someone who is obsessed with putting the Arctic Monkeys on repeat? Loudly.

I was thinking all these things as I drifted past the front desk of the restaurant, when the Sommelier called out, “You made a grown woman cry!”.

Hmm? What? (What have I done now?)

“A customer tonight said that the blueberry dish she had was the most amazing dessert she had ever eaten, and that it even brought a tear to her eye.”

Really? I mean, it’s not my dessert. I just work for the Pastry Chef, but to hear a compliment like that, in a place where you don’t often get feedback; it parted the grey cloud in my head like a certain bearded man had, the Red Sea. That, and the “best souffle ever” comment I got from another table that evening, left me practically skipping out the kitchen door when it was time to go home.

Ah yes, that’s why I do it. Maybe I’m not so insane afterall. Maybe all I need is the occasional reminder, that I cook because I love to feed people. Even if it’s for people I don’t know. My family have always been non-touchy-feely people. Most things, we said through food. Through the act of having a meal together. Through cooking a meal or paying for one. Food is one of the most pleasurable necessities in life, and I think we sometimes forget it, when we are worrying about being too fat or not thin enough, or whatever else that screws up rational thought.

So despite the stinking hot weather outside and the lethargy I was feeling, it was with many of the above things in my mind, that I completed January’s Daring Bakers Challenge.

This month’s challenge is brought to us by Karen of Bake My Day and Zorra of 1x umruehren bitte aka Kochtopf. They have chosen Tuiles from The Chocolate Book by Angélique Schmeink and Nougatine and Chocolate Tuiles from Michel Roux.

I opted to try the savoury tuile recipe instead, because it was a recipe by Thomas Keller, that I’ve always wanted to try. Instead of making cornets as stated in the recipe below, I decided to shape them as tacos, and fill them with crab, avocado and a spicy tomato salsa. A lovely light Summer treat. Perfect perhaps, with a tall glass of bubbly. 🙂

Savory tuile/cornet :
(from The French Laundry Cookbook by Thomas Keller)

65 grams plain flour
1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon kosher salt (= 2/3 teaspoon table salt)
114 grams unsalted butter, softened but still cool to the touch
2 large egg whites, cold
2 tablespoons black sesame seeds

In a medium bowl, mix together the flour, sugar and salt. In a separate bowl, whisk the softened butter until it is completely smooth and mayonnaise-like in texture. Using a stiff spatula or spoon, beat the egg whites into the dry ingredients until completely incorporated and smooth. Whisk in the softened butter by thirds, scraping the sides of the bowl as necessary and whisking until the batter is creamy and without any lumps. Transfer the batter to a smaller container, as it will be easier to work with.

Preheat the oven to 200’C.

Make a 4-inch hollow circular stencil. Place Silpat on the counter. Place the stencil in one corner of the sheet and, holding the stencil flat against the Silpat, scoop some of the batter onto the back of an offset spatula and spread it in an even layer over the stencil. Then run the spatula over the entire stencil to remove any excess batter. After baking the first batch of cornets, you will be able to judge the correct thickness. You may need a little more or less batter to adjust the thickness of the cornets.

There should not be any holes in the batter. Lift the stencil and repeat the process to make as many rounds as you have molds or to fill the Silpat, leaving about 1 1/2 inches between the cornets. Sprinkle each cornet with a pinch of black sesame seeds.

Place the Silpat on a heavy baking sheet and bake for 4 to 6 minutes, or until the batter is set and you see it rippling from the heat. The cornets may have browned in some areas, but they will not be evenly browned at this point.

Open the oven door and place the baking sheet on the door. This will help keep the cornets warm as you roll them and prevent them from becoming too stiff to roll. Flip a cornet over on the sheet pan, sesame seed side down and place 4-1/2 inch cornet mold at the bottom of the round.

Fold the bottom of the cornet and around the mold; it should remain on the sheet pan as you roll. Leave the cornet wrapped around the mold and continue to roll the cornets around molds; as you proceed, arrange the rolled cornets, seams side down, on the sheet pan so they lean against each other, to prevent from rolling.

When all the cornets are rolled, return them to the oven shelf, close the door, and bake for an additional 3 to 4 minutes to set the seams and color the cornets a golden brown. If the color is uneven, stand the cornets on end for a minute or so more, until the color is even. Remove the cornets from the oven and allow to cool just slightly, 30 seconds or so. Gently remove the cornets from the molds and cool for several minutes on paper towels. Remove the Silpat from the baking sheet, wipe the excess butter from it, and allow it to cool down before spreading the next batch. Store the cornets for up to 2 days (for maximum flavor) in an airtight container.

The poached egg could have been warmed up slightly, or even at least served at room temperature, but even so, I happily pierce the runny yolk with a knife, allowing its sunny contents to mingle with perfectly crisp onion rings, greens and the creamy remoulade underneath.

We are at Ash St Cellar in the Ivy complex, and in the height of Summer, this is exactly the kind of place I want to visit, for a quick dinner before the early show we are about to see at the Angel Place Recital Hall.

Granted, this was not our first choice for dinner, but as the Ivy employee clad in formal shorts informed us, Sushi Choo was closed for the whole of January. While this was initially a disappointing bit of news (the website made no mention of this), it turned out to be a blessing in disguise, because we ended up several hungry steps away, at Ash St Cellar.

It’s almost hard to believe you are in the heart of Sydney, sitting in that laneway, in this small and cosy place, with its fabulous wine list and tasty tapas-style dishes that hint at the refined and restrained touch of head chef Lauren Murdoch.

I love the clean, fresh flavours and unfussy presentation. Between the two of us, we manage four dishes, with complementary bread, which adds up to $100, including two glasses of wine. Even though we’re full, I’m sorely tempted by the tart of the day, proudly displayed on its very own marble pedestal. Maybe next time. Although, next time, I’m thinking the Ivy would really be complete if it had its very own dessert bar – something Sydney is lacking.

As for the show? Camille was frenetic, primal, visceral, humorous, breath-taking. Good food, great music? This is what Summer should be all about!

-When is the part-time thing happening?, this sous chef asked.

I told him I had to wait until the end of the month to hear back from the powers above.

-You must feel special. They’ve never done anything like that for anyone before.

Yeah, special, I said, rolling my eyes.

I respect this sous chef a lot. He cares about the job he does, and in this very stressful environment, he does it extremely well. He treats everyone in the kitchen fairly, and is very level headed, despite the impossible number of coffees that he drinks and cigarettes he smokes. He buys Gatorade for the boys, and watermelon for me. Away from work, he also has twin baby girls and probably the world’s most understanding wife. How he juggles all this, is, really beyond me.

To tell you the truth, the one thing I really feel is maybe a bit guilty. Guilty that I can feel the tiredness scratching the back of my eyes. The loop of the blue striped apron hangs like a noose around the neck. Call it a derivative of Stockholm syndrome or whatever, but I still love my job, and can’t imagine ever doing anything else. Probably my one big problem is that I’m not good at the whole juggling thing.

This week, I will be mostly :

1 Listening to Heart by Stars
2 Reading The Time Traveller’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger
3 Missing the boy, who flies to Vegas soon, “for work”

Last week, I finished reading a book. The first one in ages. I realised a long time ago, that one of the sad things about growing up is that I no longer have time to lounge around all Summer, sucking down chocolate Paddle Pops, surrounded by a sky-high stack of books. It was through many youthful (and pallid) years of avoiding the hot sun and the tyrannies of a sandy beach, that I discovered Hunter S. Thompson’s letters, the Lord of the Rings trilogy, The Unbearable Lightness of Being, and Neil Gaiman’s Sandman (ironic, isn’t it) stories.

In fact, these days, I kind of wonder what the 14 year old version of me, would think of myself now. Would I be disappointed to discover that I’m not that veterinarian or forensic scientist?

I think the 32 year old me will probably say to the 14 year old : Listen, the first thing you need to know, is that Chad Allen is never going to reply to your fan letter, and not just because it turns out that he’s gay. Secondly, life, is going to be nothing like you expected it to be. Disappointingly to your parents, you will not have “Dr.” in front of your name, nor will you sport a fancy ring on your finger or 2.5 kids at your hip.

No, it’s actually going to be even better. You will go to University and even though you will end up doing nothing related to your resulting degree, you will relish the experience. You will make friends there that you still count as some of your closest to this day. In your first year, you will also get your first computer account and through it you will meet even more new people, including one guy who will start out as a friend and eventually turn into someone who means so much more to you.

Today, he will come home from work and you will have soy glazed pork with slaw and potato fritters, followed by a frozen chocolate mousse cake. Whatever happens after that, and the day after, doesn’t matter, because it will be just as wonderful and unexpected as the days have been so far.

So, breathe, relax. It’ll turn out okay. Although, maybe you might want to learn how to juggle a little bit..

(Frozen chocolate mousse cake : chocolate sauce, sour cherries (compote and sorbet), peanut butter powder, peanut and banana tuille)