I went clothes shopping the other day and remembered why I dislike it so much. Nothing ever seems to fit me properly. It will be just right in one spot, but too big in another and too small somewhere else. Jeans, for example, are always too long. Whenever I go shopping, I have to base my decisions on the true cost of any item of clothing, which is usually the inflated price tag plus the hidden cost of getting it altered.

So I was standing in the change room, weighing up the benefits of a Little Joe top I had fallen in love with which was too big in the shoulder area, and it occured to me that I also experience similar hidden costs at work and in life. Unfortunately, there is no price tag you can place on the value of working a specific job or making a significant decision in life. How then will you know if you can afford these costs? At what point will you be able to recognise that the costs are starting to outweigh the benefits? When is it time to put the job back on the rack and try something else?

Maybe for me, clothes shopping is like life. I’m not particularly adept at it. I stumble along, managing to be vaguely presentable and every now and then, meet people along the way who I ‘fit’ with.

This dessert is inspired by Jordan Khan and the classic flavours of lemon meringue pie. The frozen liquid sable recipe is from Under Pressure by Thomas Keller. It is sandy, like normal baked sable, and melts luxuriously on the tongue. Because it is liquidised, it is capable of being frozen and twisted or cut into unusual shapes. My original twists of sable looked slightly more impressive than the picture, but it started to wilt a little as I spent too much time trying to get a decent shot. I might take more pictures next weekend when I have the time, and will include them in this post. This dessert is for Dan, who I believe as a friend, doesn’t have any hidden costs.

And for the record, I didn’t get the Little Joe top.

The May Daring Bakers’ challenge was hosted by Linda of make life sweeter! and Courtney of Coco Cooks. They chose Apple Strudel from the recipe book Kaffeehaus: Exquisite Desserts from the Classic Cafés of Vienna, Budapest and Prague by Rick Rodgers.

I have strange obsessions with certain words, and strudel is one of them. It’s an almost comical word that sounds like it was conceived by a stroppy noodle. Strudel = stroppy noodle = a thin man with a sharp chin, angry skin and raisin eyes. But the word also conjures up romantic images in my mind of sepia-toned cafes in Vienna that I will one day visit. To visit, and have a wedge of sachertorte or apfelstrudel, washed down with delicate porcelain cups of tea. Afterwards, a quick word to the waistcoated waiter for Die Rechnung, bitte, followed by a stroll down snow-covered cobbled streets.

In the lesser rose-tinted corner, strudel also reminds me of the word patience, of which I have none. I recall making strudel pastry several years ago, and watching in dismay as little holes in my pastry bloomed into massive ones. The rips ran just like stockings do, and there was no equivalent little dab of nail polish that was going to solve this problem. The holes were even big enough for a camel to walk through. In fact, not only did a camel walk through one of them, but he even turned back and looked at me disdainfully.

So, I approached this month’s challenge with some apprehensiveness. Fortunately it also occured to me that I could reinterpret the strudel-eating experience to make life easier for myself. The result is an apple compote with a warm caramelised vanilla custard, hidden beneath shards of strudel pastry, and a few rum soaked raisins on the side. I stretched the pastry in small batches, so there was less tearing. The pastry was brushed with butter and dusted with icing sugar, cinnamon, and chopped walnuts, before being baked in the oven until crisp.

The warm vanilla custard recipe comes from Crème Brûlée by Dominique and Cindy Duby. In this unusual recipe, the custard is set with the help of gelatine and agar and is capable of being cut, then heated in the oven until warm, before being bruleed. The overall effect, as the fork comes crashing down on the strudel layer to reveal warm, nutty, spicy, apple and vanilla flavours, mimics the strudel experience. It also tastes just like a normal strudel.

In case my version of strudel above didn’t count, I also made some mini banana strudels, following Claudia Fleming’s recipe in The Last Course. After stretching the pastry, I divided it into small squares, and proceeded with the recipe given below, forming little banana parcels. Still warm from the oven, these parcels were delicious with caramel and chocolate sauce and a sprinkling of chopped peanuts.

Strudel dough :
(from “Kaffeehaus – Exquisite Desserts from the Classic Cafés of Vienna, Budapest and Prague” by Rick Rodgers)

200 g unbleached flour
1/8 teaspoon salt
105 ml water, plus more if needed
30 ml vegetable oil, plus additional for coating the dough
1/2 teaspoon cider vinegar

1. Combine the flour and salt in a stand-mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Mix the water, oil and vinegar in a measuring cup. Add the water/oil mixture to the flour with the mixer on low speed. You will get a soft dough. Make sure it is not too dry, add a little more water if necessary.
Take the dough out of the mixer. Change to the dough hook. Put the dough ball back in the mixer. Let the dough knead on medium until you get a soft dough ball with a somewhat rough surface.

2. Take the dough out of the mixer and continue kneading by hand on an unfloured work surface. Knead for about 2 minutes. Pick up the dough and throw it down hard onto your working surface occasionally. Shape the dough into a ball and transfer it to a plate. Oil the top of the dough ball lightly. Cover the ball tightly with plastic wrap. Allow to stand for 30-90 minutes (longer is better).

3. It would be best if you have a work area that you can walk around on all sides like a 36 inch (90 cm) round table or a work surface of 23 x 38 inches (60 x 100 cm). Cover your working area with table cloth, dust it with flour and rub it into the fabric. Put your dough ball in the middle and roll it out as much as you can. Pick the dough up by holding it by an edge. This way the weight of the dough and gravity can help stretching it as it hangs. Using the back of your hands to gently stretch and pull the dough. You can use your forearms to support it.

4. The dough will become too large to hold. Put it on your work surface. Leave the thicker edge of the dough to hang over the edge of the table. Place your hands underneath the dough and stretch and pull the dough thinner using the backs of your hands. Stretch and pull the dough until it’s about 2 feet (60 cm) wide and 3 feet (90 cm) long, it will be tissue-thin by this time. Cut away the thick dough around the edges with scissors. The dough is now ready to be used.

Banana-Pecan Strudels :
(yields 4 servings, from The Last Course by Claudia Fleming)

2 sheets phyllo dough, thawed [I used strudel pastry as made above]
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
4 tablespoons icing sugar [I added some cinnamon to this as well]
4 tablespoons chopped toasted pecans [I used peanuts]
1 medium-ripe banana, sliced lengthwise in quarters
1 tablespoon honey

Preheat the oven to 200’C. Brush 1 phyllo sheet with some of the melted butter. Sift 2 tablespoons of the icing sugar evenly on top. Sprinkle evenly with 2 tablespoons of the nuts. Cut the phyllo sheet in half lengthwise. Place one quarter of the banana along a short edge of each phyllo half. Starting with the short end, tightly roll up the banana in the phyllo. When you get almost to the end, dab a little bit of honey along the edge to help seal the package [Note : This is not necessary when using the freshly made strudel pastry]. Repeat with the remaining ingredients.

Just before baking, brush the tops of the strudels with more of the melted butter and place them seam-side down on a baking sheet (preferably lined with parchment paper or a nonstick liner). Bake until strudels are golden brown, 13 to 15 minutes. Serve immediately.

Could this be the richest and most luxurious Daring Bakers challenge yet? If not, can we agree that it certainly comes close? It’s the kind of chocolate dessert you might find listed with cliched words like “indulgence” or “oblivion” tacked to the end of it.

This month’s challenge is brought to us by the adventurous Hilda from Saffron and Blueberry and Marion from Il en Faut Peu Pour Etre Heureux. They have chosen a French Yule Log by Flore from Florilege Gourmand.

If you’re wondering, hang on, a yule log .. didn’t we make one this time last year? Well, I thought the same too, but was put right when I read the definition of a French yule log.

As it turns out, this yule log, or Buche de Noel, is somewhat akin to an ice-cream cake, or a frozen version of the typical buttercream-laden yule log we are more familiar with. Mine consists of flavours that pretty much adhere to the original recipe. The layers are almond dacquoise, dark chocolate mousse, vanilla creme brulee, hazelnut praline, dark chocolate ganache and icing. A great choice of dessert for this time of the year, I think, because of the warm weather here in Sydney.

Not that warm weather would deter me from baking. After a few forkfuls of this wonderful dessert, I think ‘Chocolate Ooh’ might even be a nice addition to that list of cliched words. Or maybe ‘Chocolate Blessing’, because I’m thankful for having managed to find a little time this month to make this challenge. I’m grateful because the alternative would mean never having had the opportunity to experience this pure Chocolate Sensation. This Chocolate Bliss. This Chocolate Epiphany of textures, from ultra smooth mousse to crunchy praline and toothsome ganache. This Chocolate Happiness.

If you have been sufficiently tempted enough to make it, you might want to search for the recipe on the hosts’ blogs (thanks, guys!), or from the blogs of other DB members.