“Like the pastries themselves, each day is different from the last. As I look around at all of the handsome shapes of crescents, twists, and coils and the delightful assortment of cookies, scones, tarts, savories, and confections, I am excited and amazed. But it’s that final glance, that close-up view, that reveals their truth. Simple, humble, and beautiful, this is the stuff I love.” — Nancy Silverton.

I’m not sure if this is true or not, but someone once told me there are many Inuit words to describe snow. Likewise, us bakers have many words to describe baking.

It is a tool for procrastination, a gesture of love, a moment of greed or joy, and for some lucky people, a means to make a living. It’s an act whose meaning changes with every day that I bake. Yesterday we had chocolate sables because I didn’t really want to do my long overdue taxes. Today, I made these Earl Grey tea cookies because I enjoy the quietly therapeutic process of mixing and rolling soft, buttery dough. (Update : taxes still not done) Also, there was the matter of some frosting to use up before we went away.

Next week I’m heading to Shanghai for a few days and it’s my first ever trip to China so if anyone has any great tips or suggestions, please let me know!

A few people requested this recipe when I posted a picture of it a few months ago. Apologies for the delay, but here it finally is. The version here is tea inspired, but you can make it whatever flavour you wish : vanilla, chocolate, marbled.. it’s pretty versatile and very delicious. The cookies are an adaptation of a classic shortbread treat called Melting Moments and this particular recipe (original author unknown) comes from an old work notebook of mine. Sandwiched between ‘Madelines, citrus’ and ‘Messine sauce, for marron’, it reads as follows..

Earl Grey Cookies :
(makes 30 sandwiched cookies or thereabouts)

180g butter, at room temperature
60g icing sugar
180g flour
5g earl grey tea powder
60g cornflour
pinch of salt

In a food processor (or Thermomix), cream the butter and icing sugar. Add the flour, tea, cornflour and salt. Pulse/process until the dough comes together, stopping occasionally to scrape the mixture down. Wrap the dough in cling film and chill for 15 minutes.

To bake, preheat the oven to 175’C. Line two or three baking sheets with greaseproof paper. Roll heaped teaspoonfuls of dough into balls and arrange them on the baking sheets, leaving about 1.5 inches of space between each ball to allow for spreading. Indent the tops with a fork. Bake the cookies for 15 minutes or until lightly golden brown. Allow to cool completely before sandwiching them with frosting (I used lemon buttercream here).

One of the enduring food memories from my childhood is of my father taking us to the markets each Sunday to buy fresh food for the week. He often purchased cases of navel oranges, apples, nashi pears and my favourite, persimmons, with the reasoning that buying in bulk meant you were theoretically saving money even when you didn’t actually need that 5kg of oranges. Dad loved a bargain then especially when it came to food.

Being my father’s daughter unfortunately did not teach me to be particularly money-wise when I was a student. I had a penchant for 2 for $30 dresses that were poorly made and didn’t last beyond several washes (but so cheap!) and more than once I bought expensive lamb cutlets instead of rather essential toilet paper. Needless to say, we now always have mind-bogglingly large packs of toilet paper squirreled away at home. B can’t understand my obsession with having “enough” toilet paper.

When you are the daughter of a bargain hunter however, you may sometimes find yourself in possession of a quantity of some food item greater than what you could possibly consume or want. In this case, the thrill of buying cheap strawberries got the better of me last week. After the novelty of eating them by the handful wore off, it came time to make quick use of the remaining punnets.

A dozen strawberry muffins, flavoured with a hint of vanilla and orange peel and topped with buttery crumble, were served up for second breakfast one morning. The following evening, we had this strawberry galette for dessert. Fruit galettes are one of the simplest and most delicious things you could ever bake with fruit. Berries in particular. Soft oozing berries and crisp butter pastry form one of those happy friendships that will hopefully always transcend food trends and the test of time.

Forget lamb chops and toilet paper. We all need more strawberries and sweetness in our lives, and despite not being much of a sweet tooth, I have a sneaky feeling dad would approve.

Strawberry Galette :
(enough for 4)

1 quantity tart pastry (recipe below)
1 1/5 punnets strawberries (about 380g)
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon cornflour
2 tablespoons sugar (more if the strawberries aren’t sweet enough; plus extra for garnishing)

Preheat the oven to 175’C.

Hull the strawberries and cut into thirds widthways (or quarters, if they are particularly large). Toss the strawberries in sugar, vanilla extract and cornflour and set aside.

Roll the pastry out to a rough circle about 5mm thick. The pastry does not need to be a perfect circle as the edges will be folded in. Rustic is good, in this case. Pile the sliced strawberries into the middle of the pastry circle, leaving a 3cm border all around. Fold the border over to partially cover the fruit. Sprinkle the folded edges with the extra sugar. Bake for 35-40 minutes or until the pastry is crisp and golden brown. Allow to cool a little before dusting the top with icing sugar, slicing and serving.

Tart pastry :

60g cold unsalted butter, cubed
110g plain flour
pinch of salt
1 tablespoon sugar
1-2 tablespoons cold water

Place the butter, flour, salt and sugar in a food processor. Blitz until it resembles breadcrumbs. Add the water and pulse until dough almost comes together. Tip the dough out, flatten with the palm of your hand to form a rough disc. Wrap in plastic and chill for at least 30 minutes before using.

Icing a cake, it has to be said, is purely an optional exercise 99% of the time. At the discretion of the baker, a cake may be garnished with a pelmet of extra sugar to either hide inadequacies or enhance its visual appeal (ie. hide inadequacies). The icing I’m speaking of here is plain water icing; icing sugar and a tablespoon or two of lemon juice or water, mixed to a flowing consistency. Chocolate frosting, as everyone knows, is an entirely different matter altogether, as it is almost always a compulsory addition to any chocolate cake!

From the point of view of someone whose parents were fairly strict about their cake and sugar intake, I must admit this cake was iced with a large amount of childish glee, perhaps to the point of being over-iced. Take that, Choc-Top-free childhood, banned Jacobs gem biscuits with crispy frosting and total and utter lack of fairy bread! Hmm.. Maybe this is why I can’t have iced things.

Oranges are such a bargain at the moment, so orange and yoghurt cake was made twice this week. One cake served us well over many tea breaks. This iced one will hopefully take us through the weekend.

Orange and yoghurt drizzle cake :
(adapted from a recipe in Mix & Bake by Belinda Jeffery)

450g plain flour
pinch of salt
1/2 teaspoon bicarbonate of soda
3 eggs
400g sugar
250g softened butter
250g thin yoghurt (or kefir)
grated zest of 2 oranges, juice from 1 orange

Preheat oven to 150’C.

In a Thermomix or food processor, process the eggs and sugar until pale. Add the butter and continue processing until well incorporated. Pulse in the yoghurt, zest and juice, followed by the flour, baking soda and salt. Scrape the mixture into a greased and floured large bundt tin. Bake for 1 hour 15 minutes or until a skewer inserted into the cake comes out clean.

Allow the cake to cool for a few minutes before turning it out onto a plate or wire rack. While the cake is still warm, brush it with the orange syrup then allow to cool completely before icing (if you wish).

Orange syrup :
110g icing sugar
50g orange juice

Mix the icing sugar with the orange juice. Set aside until ready to use.