The other day I walked right into the corner of a hot oven door. The blow was delivered smack in the middle of my forehead. A red dent gave way to a purple swelling, which then settled on being a bile-yellow colour. Of the resulting mark, Grant pointed out that I now really do resemble Harry Potter (a name the Bangladeshi potwashers once started calling me by – thankfully that never really caught on).

Maybe it was the concussion speaking, but it got me thinking about how things happen so fast – all of a sudden I’m finding myself with a mortgage and my friend from high school, Bec, has just informed us that she’s pregnant (the first in my group of school friends, so congrats and good luck to B and T for leading the way!).

Sitting down to sponge the wound was probably the first time I had ever indulged myself in not doing work while at work. How did it come to this? So at the end of a long week, I woke up the next morning, opened the fridge and pulled out the container of prunes I had macerating in vanilla tea and brandy. Some two weeks ago, the original intention was to make truffles in time for SHF #25. Even though I’m too late to meet the deadline, I resolved to make them anyway as a personal celebration of being able to take a moment to wind down.

The recipe comes from Let It Simmer, the latest book from Sean Moran of Seans Panaroma, home to amazing food and THAT glorious nougat recipe. For the truffles, whole almonds are first roasted, coated in toffeed sugar, then chocolate, stuffed into each soft, boozy prune and the whole dipped in dark chocolate, and rolled in bitter cocoa powder. A bit like turducken if you will. The crunchy almond doubles as an “edible prune kernel”. Soothed by the combination of chocolate, alcohol and vanilla, the scratch on my forehead fades into the distance and a smile plays at the corners of my mouth. Despite what seems like a lengthy process, the effort involved is actually quite minimal, and whatever time you spend making these, is indeed time well spent.

1. Jeff de Bruges Chocolates

My Chocolate Radar must be in need of tuning. It can be the only explanation to how I managed NOT to see this shop even though I was practically standing in front of it. Yesterday B and I walked down Pitt Street Mall on the way to the Rocks to do the BridgeClimb. Waiting to cross King Street, I stood there chortling at the TITANIC : THE MUSICAL billboard, and it took B to point out that several feet below that board was a little chocolate shop. Well sink my battleship, how long has this shop been there for?!

Of course I had to go inside, and naturally, step out again with a small selection of nicely packaged chocolates in hand. As Selena would know, I call this ardous process “research”.

2. Luneburger

Equally impaired is my Bakery Radar. I have been walking past this German bakery in the QVB for quite some time now, without sensing it’s presence. I think the problem was that it’s located so close to the station that I usually ignore whatever is around me, in my desperate dash to catch a train. So I only found out about the place through someone else’s blog. The reason why I’m quite excited about this place is that I love German pretzels (or bretzels) and until now, couldn’t find a decent one in Sydney (there was a bakery in Canberra, but then it disappeared..). The ones at Lüneburger are very good!

3. Le Renaissance

When it comes to pastries and cakes, Gabby knows what she’s talking about. Her light mousse cakes and glossy chocolate creations have won the hearts and admiration of many a man (that she’s a bit of a looker, helps too, I’m sure). So when Gabby says, “Go to Le Renaissance.. they are one of the best in Sydney”, I listen and go.

This little patisserie and cafe is located in the Rocks, opposite Pony restaurant. On display are a range of luscious cakes (large sized, single serve, and petit four sized) and pastries – all of which look so mouth-watering that I take awhile to decide what to get. Apart from the sweet stuff, they also serve savouries such as meat pies which you can have in the courtyard or out the front. “$6 for a meat pie!” a lady behind me scoffed to her friends, as she walked right out of the shop. But if their cakes are anything to go by, I just might have to return to try one of those!

Jeff de Bruges
106 King Street
Sydney 2000

Lüneburger
Shop 72, Lower Ground Floor
The Queen Victoria Building
455 George Street
Sydney 2000

Le Renaissance
47 Argyle Street
The Rocks
Sydney 2000

[Incidentally, the BridgeClimb was great. We chose the twilight option, and so got to see the city in it’s daylight glory, then descended the bridge in darkness with an expansive view of the sparkling city all around us. While we were climbing the bridge, the Australian Idol Final was being played out in front of the Opera House, and just as we reached the top, an explosion of fireworks lit up the sky. I think it’s the closest I’ve ever been to a firework display.]

I could eat Christmas cake any day of the year, but Christmas time is the only time I can really be bothered to make it. It’s a heavy-ish sort of cake, knee-deep in fruit, and that hint like a sly wink, of brandy. It’s probably not suited to our climate here in Australia, but you only need a small slice of this to get into the spirit of the festive season.

As part of the Festive Food Fair, conceived by Anna of Morsels and Musings, I baked this cake a week or two ago, wrapped it up tightly after it’s drink of brandy and have now broken the seal to taste the cake. It’s fabulous!

The recipe is from Stephanie Alexander’s Cooks Companion. Don’t be put off by the amount of ingredients you need to weigh up. It’s easy to put the batter together once the fruit is macerated, and my favourite bit is the drizzling of the extra alcohol once it’s out of the oven. The cake just sponges it up like sozzled relatives on a hot Christmas day. Smaller versions of this cake can also be made, wrapped in gold paper and secured with a flourish of a bow to give away as presents to friends. No iPod soundtrack is needed for making this cake either. I hummed my way through The Twelve Days of Christmas while preparing this mammoth cake, and still can’t remember if it’s six or seven lords-a-leaping.

Christmas Cake from Margaret :

270g sultanas, roughly chopped
270g currants
270g raisins, chopped
120g Australian dried apricots, chopped
60g prunes, stoned and chopped
140ml brandy
270g softened unsalted butter
60g mixed peel
40g slivered almonds
225g plain flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon mixed spice
1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
250g dark brown sugar
5 large eggs, beaten
1 tablespoon black treacle or golden syrup
whole blanched almonds for decoration

Put dried fruit into a large glass or ceramic bowl and add 100ml of the brandy. Soak overnight. Next day, preheat oven to 150’C (if you have a fan-forced oven, preheat it to 140’C). Grease a 22cm x 7cm deep round cake tin well with 20g of the butter and line with a double thickness of baking paper or brown paper.

Put mixed peel and slivered almonds into a large bowl and coat with a little of the flour to prevent clumping. Sift remaining flour with baking powder and spices. Cream brown sugar and remaining butter in an electric mixer until light and fluffy. Add eggs and flour mixture alternately, then add soaked fruit, treacle, and almond mixture. Mix well. Turn mixture into prepared tin and scoop centre into a slight hollow to allow for rising. Place whole almonds in a circular pattern around edges of cake.

Bake for 3 hours. Insert a fine skewer and, if it does not come out clean, reduce oven to 110’C and check again after 15 minutes. When cooked, remove from oven and drizzle remaining brandy over cake. Allow to cool completely in tin before turning out. Wrap cake in several layers of greaseproof paper and then in foil and store in an airtight cake tin until Christmas Day.