Black Sesame Cakelets with Cream Cheese Frosting

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A good friend once told me that if I were an ice cream flavour, it would be black sesame.

‘What’s that supposed to imply?’

I still don’t know. Nevertheless, I love attempts to associate people with things, endeavouring to understand or replicate nature, auras, psyches. The memory was jolted alive last week, when I was prancing around the supermarket aisles, sometimes stopping to peruse labels, flipping through half-hearted ideas in my head. I was ready to take on something tame for today’s post, working with ingredients I already had at home. But (there’s always a but). When I passed by the gourmet Japanese section, the urge to experiment with black sesame was so profound I felt like it would be a cardinal sin not to leave without a loot. It almost came as a shock because firstly, I’ve never done so before, and secondly, I’ve always been enamoured by its sweet, oil-rich, nutty flavour. What’s taken me so long?

Even if you decide, as part of a little intellectual exercise, that you are going to sit around and do nothing because you have concluded that you have no free will, you are eventually going to get up and make yourself a sandwich.“–Greene and Cohen, from a book I’m reading right now on the brain.

I love that. You see, sometimes, you just have to do something and stop wrestling internal needs or expectations. To sustain yourself and this life. Satisfying that urge was worth it.

So I’ll say it: I wasn’t expecting the results of this experiment to turn out so well. Somehow, the oven works its magic the first time. All worries were alleviated when my first batch of black sesame cakelets emerged (almost) perfectly round, just slightly risen and browned along the edges, from the hot-house. Working with the black sesame powder I found along that aisle was pure joy. The powder by itself is mildly sweet, carrying all the aromas and flavours of the seed. It is imperative that you sieve the powder first into the dry mix, to yield the finest and smoothest texture possible. If you can’t find the stuff in the grocery store, try your hand at black sesame seeds, and grind them up at home, in a food processor or with a mortar and pestle. You will get a paste instead of a smoother powder, but I expect it will work just as well. Gosh, I’m excited for you! Soft, moist (I actually like this word for all the grief it gets, poor thing), slightly cakey with an incredibly tender crumb. The nuttiness and mild sweetness formed the perfect backdrop for the ever-familiar cream cheese frosting on top. The two together are sublime if sinful.

I topped these with oreo crumbs, sprinkles and chopped bits of dark chocolate. Go crazy here. It’s the perfect cross between a pikelet, an adorable mini pancake, and the top of a cupcake. Can you imagine? I hope you can. If making these means having to go to the grocery store to buy some black sesame powder (or seeds), then I guess you have no choice.

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Black Sesame Cakelets with Cream Cheese Frosting (makes around 8 3-inch wide cakelets)

Ingredients

For the cakelets:

105g plain flour

25g (around 2 1/2 tbsp) black sesame powder, or the same amount of black sesame seeds ground into a paste using a food processor or mortar and pestle

1/2 tsp baking powder

pinch of salt

57g (4 tbsp) softened, unsalted butter

1 tsp vanilla extract

110g (half a cup) white sugar

1 egg

30ml (2 tbsp) whole milk mixed with 1/2 tbsp white wine vinegar, left to rest for 5 minutes before using. Alternatively, use the same amount of buttermilk or yoghurt

For the frosting:

40g softened unsalted butter

75g cream cheese, at room temperature (take out and leave on the counter for a while before using, or microwave for half a minute if cold from the fridge)

1/2 tsp vanilla extract

75g powdered sugar

Toppings:

crushed oreos/ sprinkles/ dark chocolate/ whatever you want!

Preheat the oven to 177C (350F) and line and grease 2 cookie sheets. In a medium bowl, sieve (yes, a sieve is necessary here!) the flour, baking powder, salt and black sesame powder.  In another medium bowl and with a whisk or handheld electrical whisk, cream together the butter and sugar until pale and fluffy. Whisk in the vanilla extract, egg and milk mixture. Pour this wet mix into the dry mix and stir with a tablespoon or wooden spoon until just combined and the batter has a nice dropping consistency, and is not too wet or thick. With 2 tablespoons or an ice cream scoop, dollop the batter into little circles onto the cookie sheet, spaced at least an inch from each other. Pop into the oven and bake for 7-10 minutes. Mine took 8 minutes exactly. Whilst they bake, make the frosting. Beat together the butter and cream cheese until smooth, then add the vanilla extract and powdered sugar. Beat until all is nicely incorporated.

Once the cakelets are done, a toothpick inserted into the centre of one should come out clean. Leave to cool on a wire rack, which will take around 10 minutes. Frost the tops with cream cheese frosting using a knife, then top with whatever toppings you desire. These cakelets surprised me and gave me feels. They will do the same to you.

Review: Tolido’s Espresso Nook

A long black please ($5.50), oh and that stack of devilish banana buttermilk pancakes. $9, you say? Aw, that’s not too bad at all. I mean, I can make my own buttermilk pancakes, but sometimes I need a step out of the humble abode, a new perspective, fresh insight into a worn classic. I forgot how good it feels to be at a café, alone with my thoughts, senses honed in on words, aromas, textures, flavour.

My penchant for anything sweet with nourishing kicks (think oatmeal with almond butter and honey, or this divine cheesecake) is let down a little once a week, when I hop around in search for something, anything, impressive on this tiny island, be it a sinful plate of crisp, endearing waffles or crazy lush French toast. Yolks oozing, crusts squealing at the first prick of my fork. Letting go can feel good. Almost necessary.

Tuesday’s situation. Ploughing through science writings, a double (upon request; they typically do three but I personally can’t stomach that) stack of RIDICULOUSLY thick and soft buttermilk pancakes topped with torched caramelised bananas, whipped cream and caramel, at the one café I’ve been meaning to visit for the longest while yet. I would’ve come sooner if it weren’t for my mistaken impression of this ‘nook’, something about the mounds of whipped cream I saw on Instagram and chimerical flavour titles on gaudy menus put me on edge; although it all sounded so whimsical and somewhat enticing, an air of off-the-beaten-and-maybe-slightly-greasy-track offset the appeal. I repeat: mistaken impression. One enters the wooden cove and is immediately bathed in a warm glow, some unuttered warmth. Smiling, tall baristas. The large sofa on my left had ‘come hither’ written all over, draped with a tassled beige cloth, resting against a wall filled with mini framed portraits. All the tables were elongated, wooden hexagons. The whole scene was akin to a teen clique’s secret hip hideout, complete with rough indie hits and large, flat spaces for ‘studying’. The nook lives up to its name. IMG_1056 IMG_1059

Delight.

Of course, the de rigueur sips of harsh black coffee. It’s always this or a capp for me whenever I’m in that pretentious assessing mood; the iced blacks typically mask bean quality, not that I’m anywhere near professional, and the smoothest latte (milk in Italian) still may not reveal much. Opted for the stuff straight-up, piping hot in a full 5-ouncer. They have a ‘sea salt caramel latte’ here too, and although I have an unrelenting sweet tooth, I dare not be lured into the lurid albeit enticing half-gimmicks. That being said, I shall allow my penchant for that classic sweet-salty combo to take the driver’s seat if ever I come back, and will be sure to give it a shot (maybe with an extra shot for good measure).

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Pillows. I loathe these for the carnal pleasure they bestowed.

A full centimetre high, impeccably well-risen, so much so that if I were to cut into one horizontally I would get 2 thin carpets of hole-studded pale batter, cooked to perfect doneness. Kid-soft. Ridged, air-punctured edges, just a tad firmer than the middles. At least 4 inches wide in diameter, good God. So perfectly reminiscent of typical American-diner-style pancakes. It’s a standard now, the desired standard for the experienced New Yorker. There were even little bits of banana in the batter. Crack into the elegant banana boats on top and you get a heart-stopping crème brûlée effect. Deep crackle, the break of glass, then the soft grunt of caramelised, almost burnt sugar top giving way to the creamy, ripe banana body. Pause– relish that detail.

Every chew got a little gummier as I went along, mouthfuls of white, sweet stodge. The stocky pancake was quickly reduced to sludge, but that’s alright. I just want everyone to try this. Is that too much to ask?

Rating: 4.5/5

Tolido’s Espresso Nook

462 Crawford Lane

6648 0178

Closed on Mondays

Tues-Thurs: 0930-1900

Friday-Sat: 0930-2200

Sun: 0900-1830

The Thickest, Fluffiest Pancakes You Will Make

‘A happy man has no past, whilst an unhappy man has nothing else.”

This is but one of the few memorable quotes I came across in my latest favourite read– The Narrow Road To the Deep North by Richard Flanagan, which won the Man Booker Prize last year. You know those books which leave you craving for more and more after each chapter, and the flipping action is speedy and excited? Yeah, this is one of them. War and Love are classic, usually overlapping literary themes, and Flanagan expertly weaves the two with arousing and intimate prose. Sometimes, I forget how mind-altering and rejuvenating fiction can be. It awakens, stirs something much deeper in the human soul.

Something else pretty mind-altering are…. These pancakes.

These, dear reader! By far the thickest, fluffiest ones I have ever made, and I sure as hell have made a lot of pancakes. Alright, before I proceed, I do wish to address the fact that I missed last week’s second post. Truth was that an unexpected outing stole the day’s limelight, and I hadn’t the time to do a write-up since then. Hopefully, this lazy-sunday-morning-recipe will make up for that. Goodness I’m excited, because trust me, they’re worth it. Definitely worth skipping a café line for.

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Now it’s your turn.

Thick, ridiculous, sweet and slightly spongy. I feel as if a drab ‘fluffy’ will take the fun out of this adjective scrambling, but heck, they are. Unbelievably fluffy, light, soft. A slightly lighter version of the Mickey Dees stuff. You get the jam.

I’ve tried these twice– once with almond butter and maple syrup, the other time as if I were at a traditional American diner, with butter, maple syrup, and a whole lot of family.

Can I have them with anything? So fluffy I could die!! My sisters chimed and beamed and scarfed down two each in less the time it takes for me to politely do a knife-and-fork job with one.

Since these freeze so well, I kept a couple stashed away. When I went to look for them the next morning, they were gone. I don’t blame them.

Honey and buttermilk provide an extra layer of moisture without added weight. The first two I made received a little extra char (as you can see above!!) because I was fiddling with the toppings and wasn’t paying as much attention to the stove, but the dark, crusty edges played a good texture game with the warm, melting butter and maple syrup later on. Mmmmm. Happy mistakes. And look at how thick these guys are. I kid you not, each pancake is at least an inch thick. Tender fluff. Pillow fluff. Press on a hot one and you’ll leave a finger mark that disappears almost immediately.

Vanilla Bean Buttermilk Pancakes (serves 4-5, makes around 11-12 medium pancakes)

*vegan substitution

Ingredients

188g all-purpose flour

3 tbsp white sugar

generous pinch of salt

1 tsp baking powder

1 tsp baking soda

1 egg (*one banana)

40 unsalted butter (slightly less than 4 tbsp, *vegan butter)

1 tsp vanilla extract or the insides of half a plump vanilla bean (or a skinny meek one)

240ml whole milk/ buttermilk; use store-bought or make your own by mixing 230ml whole milk with 1 tbsp white vinegar, and let the mixture sit for 5 minutes before using (*almond milk or any other plant-based milk)

Directions

In a large bowl, whisk together the dry ingredients (flour, sugar, salt and leavening agents). In a small microwave-safe bowl, melt the butter in a microwave and set it aside, letting it cool. In another medium bowl, whisk together the egg, buttermilk, vanilla (or insides of a vanilla bean) and melted butter. Pour the wet mix into the dry mix and mix briefly with a wooden spoon or a normal dinner spoon. Continue to mix until everything is justt combined, which means there will still be a few lumps, but no more streaks of flour. The batter will be thick and somewhat lumpy.

Preheat your pan on medium heat and ready some butter. You know the pan is hot enough when you flick a little water onto its surface and there’s a clear sizzle. At that point, generously butter the pan and ladle tablespoonfuls of batter. I didn’t have to wait for bubbles to pop before flipping; the batter is thicker than usual and there’s no need to wait. Flip the pancakes when you notice the edges stiffening a little, or when you can slide your spatula whole underneath the bottom of the pancake. It will rise a little upon flipping, as if that action gives it life, and hence, breath. The surface should have a brown mosaic thanks to the hot butter. Once the second side is done (will take no more than 20 seconds), let cool on a paper towel. As mentioned above, these freeze wonderfully, so you can make a whole batch, have a small stack and stash the rest in a ziploc bag in the freezer. Easy!

Serve with butter and maple syrup, or whatever you want. I particularly like them with banana, its moist sweetness adjoining arms with the maple. What a Sunday.

Naked Moist Chocolate Cake with Salted Caramel Creme Fraiche Frosting

Thunder now. I’m loving the endless precipitation in this otherwise stifling furnace. When trivialities seem to take hold of life, there are always certain important people to bring me back down to Earth, and there’s, well, cake. Hey, childhood fancies, it’s been a while. Processed with VSCOcam with f2 preset Processed with VSCOcam with f2 preset I think it only de rigueur to celebrate a special occasion with something a little more elaborate. ‘F’ and ‘L’ are the initials of someone pretty damn special in my life, and special people deserve something a little more elaborate, more celebratory, more.. regal if a little rustic. Chocolate and salted caramel has been done before, tried and tested, stamped with approval, signed off in girlish curlicues. But I daresay this endeavour is a bit more wild, and not quite so predictable in taste and texture with the addition of crushed meringue and lavish drizzles of homemade salted caramel. The waterfall effect of the buttercream frosting does a bit of justice to the ‘naked’ cake; I here term it as such because the ridges and painfully thin outer layer of frosting allow the bottom halves of each chocolate cake layer to be seen, for a subtle gradient effect, the salted caramel running slowly between the ridges, cutting through the purposeful flaw. Mimicking the movement of pale frosting. Godspeed. Processed with VSCOcam with f2 preset Processed with VSCOcam with f2 preset If you are wondering why the two pictures above look a mess, I’d gladly point the finger at that solo stack of plates. An unfinished crumb coat was almost completely wrecked when the stack of three layers, frosting in tact between each, toppled over and collided into the side of the stack. But this cake held its own, unflinching. Sometimes, failures or mishaps really do prove someone, or something’s worth. Despite the delicate moisture of the cake, its sweet and slightly bouncy crumb, the collision underscored a hidden robustness, making me hold this cake in the highest regard. It deserved to be treated right, after not letting me down. Processed with VSCOcam with f2 preset Processed with VSCOcam with f2 preset Processed with VSCOcam with f2 preset This amalgamation of flavours imparts subtle, simple decadence. The chocolate cake of our childhoods is wrapped with the familiar indulgence of sweet and salty caramel, with a bit of zip thanks to a squeeze of lemon and fresh Maldon. The first time I tried the cake with all its components, I did think the salted caramel crème fraîche frosting lacked oopmph, my tongue betraying the anticipation of a more sophisticated flavour profile. Hence, I did a mini batch of frosting after this cake was made, altering the salt and creme fraiche content to taste. In all honesty, a slice of this stuff is good warm or cold, and can be stored for at least a week in a fridge, or a couple of days at room temperature. And finally, I really don’t know what could possibly beat fresh, homemade salted caramel…? Moist Chocolate Cake With A Salted Caramel Creme Fraiche Frosting (makes a three-layer, 8-inch wide cake) For the cake: (cake recipe adapted from here) 300g (3 cups) cake flour, or all-purpose flour if you don’t have cake flour on hand 300g (3 cups) white caster sugar 150g (1 1/4 cups) cocoa powder 3 tsp baking soda half tsp of fine salt 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder 380ml (around 1 1/2 cups) buttermilk 180ml vegetable oil 3 eggs at room temperature 2 tbsp vanilla extract 1 1/2 cups (370ml) freshly brewed coffee For the salted caramel frosting: 340g salted butter 4 tbsp créme fraiche 980g powdered sugar 180ml (slightly less than 3/4 of a cup) of salted caramel (ingredients for this down below) For the salted caramel (recipe adapted from personal trials): 1 tbsp light corn syrup 5 tbsp (75ml) water 1 tsp vanilla 125ml (around half a cup) of heavy cream 110g (1/2 cup) white sugar juice of half a lemon (approximately a teaspoon) 1 tsp fine sea salt Preheat the oven to 177C (350F) and line three 8-inch circular cake pans with parchment paper (trace around each pan with pencil on the parchment paper and then cut out neatly). Spray the bottoms of the pan before laying on each piece of parchment, and then spray lightly again. Set these pans aside. In the large bowl of an electric mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, sift in the dry ingredients– cocoa powder, flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Stir on low speed until combined. The same can be done with just a large bowl and a whisk if you don’t have an electric mixer. In a separate medium bowl, whisk together the buttermilk, oil, vanilla and eggs. Stir in the fresh coffee. With the mixer on low speed (or without a mixer), add the wet mixture into the dry. Use a spatula to scrape down the sides of your bowl and make sure everything is well combined. The batter should be sticky, dark, glossy and liquidy. In fact, the wetter, the better. If your bowl of batter looks too dry, or drops off the back of your spoon or paddle too slowly (it shouldn’t really ‘drop’ at all, really), add at least 2 tablespoons of milk. Drop each pan on your counter to knock out excess air bubbles. Use a weighing scale to ensure there’s an equal amount of batter in each pan. For this recipe, there was around 750g of lush chocolate batter in each pan, and each layer is rather thick. Place the pans in the oven (you can place 2 in first if your oven can’t fit three, which is usually the case, and then pop the last one in afterwards). Bake for 35-40 minutes, before removing from the oven and let cool on wire racks. Mine took 36 minutes, and a wooden skewer inserted into the centre of the pan should come out dry, with a few moist crumbs clinging to the very tip. While the cakes bake, make the salted caramel. Put the corn syrup, water and sugar in a saucepan and place over medium heat. Stir together with a wooden spoon and let the mixture come to boil. In a separate medium bowl, mix together the lemon juice (add less if you like your salted caramel less ‘lemony’), vanilla and cream. Once the mixture in the pan comes to a boil, stop stirring (to prevent crystallisation) and let boil for a while. This will take at least 5 minutes or so. If it looks like one part of the pan is turning darker faster than the other parts, then gently swirl the pan to distribute the heat and quicken the chemical reaction. Slowly, the sugars will all caramelise and the whole mixture will suddenly turn a dark amber. At this point, turn off the heat and add the cream mixture. Stir in the salt to taste. The mixture will bubble almost immediately, before lightening and turning a lighter caramel shade. If the mixture seizes, don’t fret!! Simply put the pan back on a low heat and stir until everything amalgamates nicely again, which will take 2-3 minutes. All is good, all is good. Make the buttercream. In an electrical or handheld mixer, beat the salted butter, which should be slightly cold but not too frigid, and the créme fraiche, until pale, creamy and fluffy. Sift in the icing sugar in thirds, and beat well to combine. Add half a cup of salted caramel (125ml, or slightly more, all to taste)  and beat briefly to distribute the caramel’s colour and flavour. The buttercream should be smooth and not too runny, so I suggest adding the salted caramel bit by bit to get the right consistency. Once the cakes are cool, assemble. Remove the circular pieces of parchment from the bottoms of the cooled cakes, and place one in the middle of a cake stand. Using a third-cup measurement, measure out a third of a cup of buttercream and spread onto the first layer. Place a little more on top if the layer of frosting doesn’t look thick enough. Place the second layer on the first, and do the same. Repeat with the third layer, but this time, spread more buttercream down along the breadth of the cake, creating a thin crumb coat to catch any excess crumbs. Let the whole cake set in the fridge with the crumb coat for at least a couple of hours, or overnight. After this period, use more buttercream to cover up any obvious bits of brown on the outside. Use the blunt edge of a butter knife to create the ridged, naked, waterfall effect, going from the bottom up. It’s much easier than how it might read here, I promise! In any case, the decoration is entirely up to you. Once you have run the butter knife up along the sides for the entire circumference of the cake, do the same for the top, but direct the butter knife movement towards the centre, so you get the ‘wheel’ effect, as can be seen in the third last photo above. Drizzle the top with leftover salted caramel and, if you wish, crumbled biscuits of meringue.

Ultimate Mango Almond Smoothie

Skepticism hits hard when I see ‘best’ and ‘ultimate’ and ‘crazy-good-scrumptious’. Really? How good does good have to be before the ultimate (haha) mainstream adjective succumbs to usage?

…Well, I guess it’s just that good then.

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There’s not much to it, yet there’s everything to it.

One simple base recipe accompanied by a myriad very suitable toppings, some of which you may feel free to leave out. It’s a quickie-breakfast-morning kind of thing, the best excuse to chuck a couple of things into your blender and emerge from the kitchen triumphant. No sweat. I’ll keep this one short and sweet, so you can indulge in something short and sweet, yes?

Mango Almond Smoothie (serves 1)

Ingredients

half a frozen banana

160g frozen mango

60ml almond milk (or any milk of choice)

one tablespoon almond butter (or any nut butter)

In a blender, blend the above listed ingredients. Top with creme fraiche, frozen raspberries, more almond butter, and, in my case, granola and matcha powder (!!) That part is unorthodox and optional, but if you have those lying around, then give it a shot. The bitter and fragrant powder elevates the sophistication of this otherwise simple (and obviously healthy) breakfast. Or leave it out!