As I bite into the blondie, I’m not convinced about what they say. Blondes can’t possibly have more fun. Blondies are brownies, but without the dark chocolate. Which hardly seems the point. These taste good and are very moist and chewy with a lovely caramel tone, but somehow, something seems missing. Something in the form of wickedly dark, velvety chocolate, that greets you like an old friend.

Which is why I’m sitting here, staring at the rest of the blondie, stuck for something to say to chronicle it’s existence. Our dialogue has reached an impasse. Silence hangs in the air like a tapestry of walnuts and white chocolate, with frayed ends signifying some kind of lack. Lack, of dark chocolate. Lack of an old friend.

Soo.. what brings you here?

Wait, don’t answer that. I already know. I decided to make a batch the other day out of curiosity. B’s friend at work had asked him for a white chocolate brownie recipe with absolutely no dark chocolate in it. Not something I’m very familiar with, so I was up to the challenge. I made these using Sue Lawrence’s recipe from her fabulous and highly reliable Book of Baking. To the mix I added chopped walnuts and white chocolate buttons. The end result was given a generous thumbs up. For me however, my heart will always belong to dark chocolate brownies.

Blondie sneaks a polite glance at her watch.

Sooo.., I say, cup of tea then?

—

An old friend and I met up for lunch yesterday. Seeing as she is finally working in the city at her relatively new job and I’m a woman of leisure, never could the twain meet at such an hour until now. We grabbed some takeaway from Plan B : savoury muffin, coffee, quiche, juice. As luck would dictate, just as we paid for our meagre items, two plates of the cutest, tallest wagyu burgers landed on the counter, ready to be delivered into hungry hands waiting outside. Damn. I want one of those. Maybe next time. Meanwhile, we convened at Hyde Park and talked about turning thirty (yes, she is an old friend after all.. 😉 ) and tuberculosis (I love having doctor friends). My savoury muffin (ham and onion; a third of which was a victim of a snatch-and-run by a hungry ibis) rated a meh on the meh-o-meter and the coffee was thin, but she approved of her quiche. Definitely the wagyu burger next time.

Plan B
204 Clarence St
Sydney 2000.

braise
[BRAYZ]
A cooking method by which food (usually meat or vegetables) is first browned in fat, then cooked, tightly covered, in a small amount of liquid at low heat for a lengthy period of time. The long, slow cooking develops flavor and tenderizes foods by gently breaking down their fibers.

One thing you can’t begrudge Winter for, despite the grey skies and cold winds that sting your ears and catch in your throat, is the saving grace of braises. Braises, casseroles, hot pots – these used (and probably still are) to be the norm in most households. The one-pot-wonder that feeds the entire family. For me, they have become a bit of a luxury because of the time they often require in the oven. It is time I usually don’t have once I’m home from work and am feeling ravenous.

You may wonder why I don’t simply leave the pot in the oven to do it’s thing while I go about my day. Well, apart from being a mildly paranoid person to begin with, who could never leave anything unmanned at the stove or in the oven, I’m often reminded of the time my sister and I got back from school, to be greeted by a house full of smoke. The culprit? A pie, now black and cindery, in the microwave which my mom had decided to use, while she was out picking us up from school. Hilarious now that I think about it, but scary at the time because we thought the house was on fire.

Another reason to love a good luxurious braise, is it’s use of non-luxurious cuts of meat like the shoulder and neck, which I find thrillingly cheap compared to fillets which can make for quite boring eating at the same time.

For this recipe, I used 700g of pork shoulder, on the bone, which I asked the lady behind the counter to chop into chunks for me. My original intention was to make a Burmese pork dish from the same recipe book, but I couldn’t find the required green mango for the dish, so decided to make this Indonesian one instead. After adding the liquids and bringing it to a boil, I covered the pot and finished the cooking in the oven. In about 1 1/2 to 2 hours, the sauce had reduced and the meat was extremely tender and very flavoursome. It didn’t need any extra seasoning at all. I served this with rice and a side of brussel sprouts sprinkled with balachaung. The original recipe by Wendy Hutton is below.

Spicy Balinese Pork :
(Babi Masak Kecap; from Green Mangoes and Lemon Grass by Wendy Hutton)

4-6 large red chillies, sliced
8 shallots, minced
4 cloves garlic, minced
5cm ginger, minced
1 teaspoon dried shrimp paste, toasted
3 tablespoons oil
600g pork shoulder, in 2 cm slices, cut in 3cm squares
3 tablespoons sweet soy sauce
1 tablespoon lime juice
375ml water
salt to taste

Process the chillies, shallots, garlic, ginger and shrimp paste to a smooth paste in a spice grinder, adding a little oil if necessary to keep the blades turning.

Heat the oil in a wok or saucepan with a heavy base, then add the chilli paste and stir-fry over low-medium heat, 4 minutes. Add the pork and stir-fry over medium heat until it has changed colour, about 5 minutes.

Add the soy sauce, lime juice and water. Bring to the boil, cover, and simmer over low heat, stirring occasionally, until the pork is tender and sauce has thickened, about 1 hour. Taste and add salt if desired. Transfer to a serving dish and serve hot with steamed white rice and vegetables.

Two words. Lemon. Pillow. How can you say no?

Mir and I met at Central Baking Depot today for coffee and something sweet. There we were, two recently unemployed people who still rise early, and who can’t seem to reconcile themselves with the fact that they’re now on holiday. It’s too weird. On my first day of Not Working, I got up with a start, wondering if I was late for work. Half an hour into the day and I was thinking that I didn’t know if I could do this whole Relax And Enjoy The Break thing. I thought about sending out my resume, but then decided to at least wait until after breakfast because decisions such as these should not be made on an empty stomach.

I am Day 4 into creating my own sourdough starter, by the way. It’s something I’ve always wanted to try, if I ever had the time. I’ve even named it. Hopefully it’s just a case of early days jitters, because Sully doesn’t seem to be doing much at the moment. There might or might not be some bubbles on the surface of the starter. It either means I have colonies, or Sully just has a mild case of indigestion.

So anyway. Central Baking Depot. It’s small, with limited seating, but I think that’s part of the charm of the place. As you sit and have your coffee, bread is being made, proofed and baked right in front of you. I love watching the process, and the big bags of flour that serve as a room divider between the prep area and the customer seating are a nice touch.

My coffee was okay, not fantastic. Decent decaf is hard to come by, and anyway, I’m spoilt because B does a killer cup of decaf with our Mokita Combi at home. After a bit of umm-ing and ahh-ing, I settled on a pastry stick of chocolate and poppyseed. It’s gnarled and twisted; something I imagine Adam Lambsbreath would use to cletter the dishes with, on Cold Comfort Farm; and utterly utterly delicious. Mir wanted the same, but I talked her into getting the Lemon Pillow which she claimed was too big, but somehow it disappeared pretty quickly while we were seated and chatting. The Lemon Pillow is glorious. It’s puffy and light with a layer of sharp lemony custard inside that goes perfectly with the sweet and rich pastry.

I’m definitely not done with this place. Already I’m looking forward to returning and discovering other treats that I can’t say no to.

Central Baking Depot
37-39 Erskine St
Sydney 2000.