This month I will be celebrating a birthday. I suppose at some stage I will probably have to stop counting, but as I still am, I can safely say that I will be turning 32 this year. People, especially those at work, are always surprised to hear how old I am. The youngest member of our kitchen team is half my age, and most of the others are in their twenties. Some say I look 17, although I recall a particularly exhausting and stressful day when Jodi, a manager, said that I looked at least 18.

To anyone who is wondering what the view from this portion of the hill is like, I can also safely say that I’m enjoying being in my thirties. Sure, it’s a little scary being older (and not quite so much wiser), but I hated being a teenager and my twenties were a time of great frustration, and a resounding lack of direction and autonomy. Now when I look back, I’m able to realise how much less manic and more grounded I have become. So, the view? It’s of blue skies, cool breezes, fields of lavender and poppy, and the tall green tree that is B, shading me.

I don’t usually celebrate my birthday in any big style. Before I turned thirty, I thought I would be ringing in a new decade with a special purchase – like a pair of Marc Jacobs or an appliance I’ve always wanted (Kitchenaid, ice-cream machine/pacojet..). However, when the day actually swung round, the idea of accumulating more stuff suddenly didn’t appeal to me. I already have many pairs of shockingly expensive shoes, which sadly, I hardly ever wear because of a rather wanting social life and also due to me being in possession of one pair of chef’s (and jogger’s) feet that rarely get along with six inch heels. These days all I want is a fish dinner and the night off to spend with B.

I do love celebrating other people’s birthdays though. A few friends as well as my big sister will also be extinguishing the candles on their respective cakes this month. These cupcakes are for them, and for anyone else who is an August baby. They are chocolate and lavender flavoured macaron cupcakes, inspired by a picture I saw recently of a collection of buttons of various sizes. I wanted to recreate that button look, using differently sized macarons. The first two flavours I made were a bit on the large side, so there wasn’t room to fit a third macaron on the cupcake, but if there had been, I probably would’ve made it vanilla or blackberry.

In any case, I hope you’re all having a great month, and a very Happy Birthday to all the August babies out there! 🙂

I was helping out the Larder section at work the other day, shucking a dozen oysters, and a thought occured to me. Picture yourself sleeping in your cosy little caravan when all of a sudden there’s a godawful hammering sound coming from above. The roof of your caravan rips wide open, you find yourself flipped over in your bed and someone squirts some lemon in your eye.

How weird would that be? What a story to tell all your oyster buddies, if not for the fact that the lemon often signals your demise.

I had a few lemons left from the last time I baked a cake, and so decided to revisit an old favourite recipe. Lemon delicious pudding is one of those desserts that never seems to go out of fashion in most people’s minds. Of course, you might not have made it in awhile because like me, you’ve forgotten how good it tastes and how much you love it. It is one of those comforting treats I want to eat while snuggled up on the couch, watching Mad Men.

Instead of a big bowl of pudding that you scoop a portion out of however, these puddings I made today are petite individual serves that retain everything that is good about lemon delicious. It’s a clever little recipe that is unbelievably easy. During the cooking process, a layer of curdy lemon forms on what becomes the top of the pudding after unmolding, while the spongey pudding below is impossibly light and moist. If you don’t like lemon, you can even substitute the required juice for a similar amount of passionfruit juice or pulp.

Another good thing about this recipe is that you can make the puddings ahead of time and reheat them by placing them in a water bath when the dessert compartment in your stomach is calling out to be filled. So, I’m including the recipe (apologies for the cup and spoon measures, but I didn’t get round to converting them into grams as I normally would) because I think you really really should try them. Even for those enjoying a spot of Summer sunshine at the moment, this pudding can be celebrated with a generous side of cherries or fresh berries.

Lemon steamed pudding :
(makes 6 (but I got 4 because I used bigger moulds); from Craft of Cooking by Tom Colicchio)

1/2 cup sugar, plus additional for dusting ramekins
2 eggs, separated
3 tablespoons plus 1 teaspoon plain flour
pinch of salt
2/3 cup buttermilk
2 1/2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
finely chopped zest of 1 1/2 lemons

Heat the oven to 150’C. Butter and lightly sugar six 4-ounce ramekins. Beat the egg whites until they hold soft peaks, then set them aside. Sift the sugar with the flour and salt. In a mixer, using the whisk attachment, combine the buttermilk, lemon juice, egg yolks, and lemon zest. Gradually add the flour mixture, then fold in the egg whites. Divide the batter among the prepared ramekins. Place the puddings in a water bath (set the ramekins in a larger pan; fill the pan with enough hot water to come halfway up the ramekins) and cover with aluminium foil. Bake until the puddings rise and are almost firm, about 25 minutes, then uncover and continue baking until the tops are lightly golden and the puddings spring back when touched, about 15 minutes more. Unmold and serve warm alone, with fresh berries, or with berry compote.

[Note: The recipe calls for the mix to be put together in a mixer, but you can also do everything by hand with a whisk and a spatula, as I did]

I know.

I know!

You’ve come here in search of a Filbert Gateau and now you’re looking at the picture above, wondering what the heck I’m on. Where’s the buttercream? What about the flippin’ filberts?

That, I promise you, is the gateau by Carol Walters that Chris picked as this month’s challenge. Plunge a spoon into it, drag it back up for air and what you’ll get is layers of moist almond genoise between blankets of rich praline buttercream and whipped cream. A filbert gateau, even by any other name, is still…

It all started when I made the initial decision to do mini versions of this gateau, and then had a heck of a time using the chocolate glaze. The finish on the cakes I achieved was rather displeasing to say the least and while trying to figure out how to decorate the cakes, I was suddenly struck by the idea of having them vaguely resemble flower pots (I really should stop listening to myself!). I started making some green tea flowers and leaves, as well as bits of chocolate biscuit to look like soil. At this point I realised that part of the baking challenge required buttercream to adorn the top of the cake, so I had to make more buttercream and piped it underneath each flower and leaf. In the end the whole exercise was all kind of exhausting, really, but thankfully I now have cake to replenish my energy.

The whole concept of a layer cake is genius. The cake itself is almost nothing more than a vehicle for the copious amounts of flavoured buttercream and glaze involved. I’ve never been too much of a buttercream fan, but I love making cakes for others, so was only too happy to attempt this recipe in the name of the Daring Bakers. The recipe for this cake is rather lengthy, so I have decided not to include it. However, you should be able to find it on Chris’ blog. The recipe for green tea biscuits can be found here.

This post is dedicated to the memory of Sher, a fellow blogger and Daring Baker member, who passed away on July 20th 2008.