Very recently, one of the members of our work team resigned from his position. He had not been working there very long but even so, I felt overcome with sadness when I heard the news. The kitchen environment is very much all about operating as a team – we celebrate successes and bear the burden of failures as a team. If a few cogs from the machine fail or go missing, then the system starts to break down quickly.

The way in which any kitchen operates, fascinates me even to this day. We get a lot of visitors asking to take a look inside this current kitchen and their interest is not surprising at all. As my work station is located in a corner of the room, I am sometimes able to stand back and observe the quiet ‘controlled chaos’ as it unfolds. Don’t laugh, but it occurs to me that this frenzied ‘show’ is almost a miniaturised version of Vegas. You travel down a long road to reach your destination, to be dazzled by the glitzy bright lights, the smells, the rush of heat, and noise filling your ears. Behind these lights, hide tight, sweaty, gritty faces hunched over benches. They work : to live, for love, with passion, for money, and the occasional bit of glory.

Even when the odds are stacked against them. Sixty covers in one hour? Never say die. They wear the sweat as a badge of pride; pores shut tight with salt, iced cordial and coffee.

Even when Elvis struts in, demanding something off-the-menu. They dance around, scrambling to pull something together. Because it’s Elvis. Because the show must go on.

So now a member of this cast has left. We put on our costumes, we joke, get angry, rush around, grumble at miscues. Then the curtain draws back and the show goes on.

(Amidst this crazy circus, we have managed to find a bit of a holiday. Look, I also made cake! Or rather, it’s a cross between tender cake and buttery shortbread. It’s actually quite wonderful on it’s own, but after being inspired by a recipe from The Big Sur Bakery cookbook, I decided to pair it with lemon verbena cream and some sweet blueberries. If you wish to serve it in a similar way, first warm some thickened cream with fresh lemon verbena leaves and a dash of honey, then strain and chill well before whipping it until it forms soft peaks. Top slices of cake with pillow-like dollops of cream and a generous handful of berries tossed through some icing sugar.)

Gâteau Breton :
(serves 10 – 12; I simplified the instructions a little, but essentially, the recipe is from Rose’s Heavenly Cakes by Rose Levy Beranbaum)

42g (1/2 cup) blanched sliced almonds
150g (3/4 cup) superfine sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
255g (2 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter
74g (from about 4 large eggs) egg yolks, at room temperature
15g (1 tablespoon) kirsch, dark rum, or water
1 1/4 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
250g (2 cups plus 3 tablespoons) plain flour
1 whole egg, lightly beaten

Preheat the oven to 160’C.

Toast the almonds until golden, cool completely then place in a food processor and process the almonds with about 3/4 cup of the sugar until fairly fine but not powder fine.

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted, mix the remaining sugar, salt and the butter on medium speed for about 1 minute until smooth and creamy. Beat in the yolks, 1 at a time, beating for about 20 seconds between each addition. Scrape down the sides of the bowl.

Add the almond mixture, kirsch, and vanilla and mix on low speed until the dry ingredients are moistened. Raise the speed to medium and beat for about 20 seconds, then add the flour in four parts, beating on the lowest speed for about 15 seconds and turning off the mixer between additions. Use a spatula to finish mixing in any flour that remains unincorporated.

Scrape the batter into a prepared fluted tart pan with removable bottom (9 1/2 inch by 1 3/8 inch; greased and lightly floured). With the beaten egg, brush the top of the cake well, using a little less than 1 tablespoon. Use the tines of a fork to make a crosshatch pattern on top. The fork lines help prevent the batter from puffing up unevenly.

Bake the cake for 35 – 45 minutes, or until a deep golden brown and the cake springs back when pressed lightly in the centre.

Let the cake cool on a wire rack for 10 minutes before attempting to unmold it and place it on a serving plate.

The thing I actually love about Christmas is not so much the day itself, but what happens after it. Of course, Christmas Day is usually a joyous occasion; a rare opportunity to see a collection of friends and relatives all in the one room at the same time.

This year, our family Christmas lunch was surprisingly ‘traditional’ in nature. Usually the table would be heaving with a mixture of cuisines (I think there was even sushi one year) but this time we had good old fashioned roast turkey with stuffing, ham and even lamb with mint sauce (not pictured).

As for what happens post-Christmas, well, there are the inevitable 3 square meals per day comprising of leftovers (I particularly covet the ham scraps), paired with a few days spent blobbing around the house and/or catching up with friends.

As if on cue, I’ve also found myself looking back at the year that was. Memorable moments of 2009? Earlier in the year, I left the security blanket of my beloved old job assisting an amazing Pastry Chef, and started at a new one, meeting many talented and interesting people, and learning a few things about myself in the process.

I had several great dinners including this one and this, sampled some plate-lickingly good desserts here, and fell in love with a few blogs such as this and this, whilst cheering the return of this one.

I also finally realised that I need to constantly remind myself when I’m sweating the small stuff, that life is short. Way too short. Too short to have a job you hate, or to harbour ill-will against anyone. To be trying to do what is expected of you, rather than what is best for you or pretending to be something you’re not. I think I’m vaguely succeeding in this regard partly because it’s hitting me how important it is to remember these things. Honestly, aren’t I at an age now where I shouldn’t have to worry about zits (alas), frenemies and ulterior motives?

So I’m raising my glass to 2010. Here’s to a year of personal improvement, of hopefully more promising things and more new doors of discovery. I could also wish for World Peace, but then I’m going to want the sash and tiara that comes with such efforts. 🙂

The December 2009 Daring Bakers’ challenge was brought to you by Anna of Very Small Anna and Y of Lemonpi. They chose to challenge Daring Bakers’ everywhere to bake and assemble a gingerbread house from scratch. They chose recipes from Good Housekeeping and from The Great Scandinavian Baking Book as the challenge recipes.

After seeing quite a few amazing DB gingerbread houses recently, I’ve come to the conclusion that mine actually looks rather spare. Lucky I had Steve the Stormtrooper to pimp my house a little. Darth would’ve joined the party too, but he happened to be overseas at the time (true story).

When Anna first told me what she had picked for this month’s challenge, I thought I could approach it in one of two ways – either go the whole hog and decorate it with every single bit of candy possible, or play the minimalist card, and make it plain and simple. Plain and simple won.

This is my second time ever, attempting a gingerbread house. The first was a good many years ago when royal icing was not my friend, and a collapsed house led me to swear off ever making them again. (Hence the beauty of being a member of the DB group, where challenges can often take you outside of your comfort zone.)

As stated in the forums, I chose to use a Scandinavian recipe from a book I love by Beatrice Ojakangas. Although her recipe for the dough isn’t very sweet and lacks the moisture of typical gingerbread recipes, I believe it’s a good recipe for this sort of thing where sturdiness is important, and less sweetness means you don’t overdose on sugar once you consume the gingerbread combined with the royal icing and candy decorations. I did however confuse quite a few people with my conversions for the flour content of the recipe, and for that I truly apologise!

Still I hope everyone managed to have as much fun as possible while attempting this challenge, and thank you again Anna, for allowing me to be your co-host. 🙂

Merry Christmas and a very Happy New Year everyone!