I hurt my ankle yesterday trying to do something stupid. I’d rather not get into the embarassing details, but let’s just say it involved as innocuous a task as hanging up the laundry. Which just goes to show that the path of Domesticity is fraught with too many dangers and should best be avoided at all costs! Lucky for me it’s my day off, as I wouldn’t have relished the thought of having to hobble around work with a dodgy ankle. B has recommended lots of rest and sitting in front of the TV, but stuff that, I’d rather be in our kitchen, trying out a new recipe and listening to something I discovered we had albums of : 80’s Madonna!

So while I’m hobble-dancing around to the ma-ma-ma-material girl, here is something I had bookmarked to try. A deconstructed cheesecake which Elizabeth Falkner calls Waking Up In A City That Never Sleeps. Her version consists of cheesecake custard, sour cream sorbet, graham cracker powder and blueberry paper. I made mine with lemon sorbet, raspberry sorbet, ginger crumbs and raspberry paper.

I’ve never been a huge fan of cheesecake, but was attracted to this recipe because I like the flavours that we commonly associate with cheesecake. What usually trips the whole thing up for me is when the filling is dense and cloying, and the base has lost it’s contrasting texture.

Here however, the traditional cheesecake has been taken apart and each component allowed to shine. The cream cheese custard is light (though not as light as I hoped it would be), the sorbets add a refreshing element to the whole and the raspberry paper is just plain fun.

Fun, because isn’t that what eating dessert is a big part of? 🙂

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]