Chelsea Date Buns

So I have just a few weird habits.

1. Occasionally listening to Phil Collins and Westlife late at night when nothing else seems to appeal to my senses as much.

2. Burning toast on purpose.

3. Eating properly burnt toast with a knife and fork.

And lately, it’s been trying to perfect a specific recipe which is both nutritious and spectacularly delicious– a date lemon glaze!

But more on that a little later. I’ll get to the real meat (or should I say, crumb) of the whole situation first. I’ve been wanting to make chelsea buns for a while now, after coming across Paul Hollywood’s (anyone else here a massive Great British Bakeoff fan?) recipe online. It all seemed simple enough. I modified it a little, using a different proportion of dried fruit, as well as dates, and softened instead of melted butter for the filling. Chelsea buns are traditionally flavoured with lemon zest, cinnamon and dried fruit, but I incorporated the lemon more so in the glaze rather than the actual dough. If you’re giving this a shot, there’s no harm going all traditional as well.

I’ll tell you now– this dough is a dream to work with. Probably the best ‘roll dough’ I’ve worked with in quite a while, and kneading was a pleasure even in this 38C weather. Is it just me or has it been extra sauna-like here recently? Once baked, the bun itself is soft, white and fluffy, though not as buttery as a brioche cinnamon bun or something of the sort. It’s a little headier, denser, but nevertheless upholding a tender, moist crumb. Those punch marks made my knuckles feel like they were in heaven, by the way.

You can use any sort of dried fruit here, but I knew dates might be a little different given their soft, squidgy, texture, and I didn’t want anything too sickly sweet either. I was rather afraid of creating a mess of melting dates, but that fear was quickly replaced with hope ad excitement because it’s just these dates, not the cranberries or apricots (top), that, when mixed with the brown sugar, butter and cinnamon, created the most glorious soft, caramelised inner filling. The bottoms were dripping with toffee-hued, sweet goodness. So yes, dates were a terrific idea, a sublime encounter.

Pretty much a date caramel, now that I’m sitting here recalling its texture and taste. All it is is dates, hot water, and a squeeze of lemon. Oh wait, and just a touch of cream. My my, it’s healthy (??). These chelsea buns aside, it can also be drizzled on fruit and whipped cream, or ice cream. Quite versatile, so easy and forgiving.

Chelsea Date Buns with a Date Lemon Glaze (makes 10-12)

For the dough:

500g white all-purpose flour

7g instant yeast

3/4-1 tsp fine salt

300ml milk of choice (I used whole)

45g unsalted butter, melted in the microwave

1 egg

For the filling:

30g unsalted butter, at room temperature

2 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon

80g brown sugar

170g dried fruit (I used a mixture of dried apricots, dried cranberry, and chopped, pitted dates)

For the date lemon glaze:

10 dates, pitted (I used medjool)

juice of half a lemon

250ml hot or boiling water

1 tbsp heavy cream

Make the dough. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour and salt, then add the yeast on one side of the bowl. In a medium bowl, mix the melted butter and milk together. Add this milk-butter mix to the flour-yeast mix, then crack in the egg, and mix everything together with a wooden spoon, or in a mixer if you’re using one.

Flour your work surface and turn out the dough. Sprinkle a little more flour on top. Knead the dough for a good 5-10 minutes, until it’s no longer sticky and it looks smooth, pale and elastic. After kneading, put the dough back into the large bowl, cover with cling film or a damp cloth and leave to rise until it has visibly doubled in size, around 60-90 minutes. Grease two baking sheets and set these aside. Preheat your oven to 190C.

Whilst waiting, make the filling. In a medium bowl, mix the cinnamon, sugar and dried fruit together. Take the butter out so it can soften to room temperature during this period. After the dough has proven, lightly flour your work surface and tip it out. Lightly punch down on the dough, and with a floured rolling pin, roll the dough into a rectangle roughly 12×8 inches. Using a pastry brush, brush the softened butter all over, leaving a small border round the edges. Sprinkle on the mix of cinnamon, sugar and dried fruit. Roll the dough starting with the long side, so you end up with a 12-inch log. With a serrated knife, cut off the jagged ends (if you have any), then cut the log into 12 rolls. You may have more or less, but you should end up with 12 1-inch thick rolls. Put the rolls swirl side down on the baking pans, with a little space between each one. Cover the rolls with a piece of aluminium to prevent the tops from burning, then pop in the oven (you can do one baking sheet at a time) and bake for 18-22 minutes. Mine were perfect after 20.

Make the date lemon glaze. Take your dates and put them in the hot water, then add the lemon juice. Let this mix rest for 15 minutes. After waiting, put them in a blender (I have a Vitamix, so I used that), and blend for a full minute. The mix would look like it has already been fully blended after around 15 seconds, but don’t stop here. The dates thicken the glaze once they fully break down, and this only occurs a few seconds later. So don’t stop blending. Once a minute is up, pour the glaze into a bowl. It should be smooth, almost lump-free, and golden-brown. At this point, add the tablespoon of heavy cream.

Once the buns are baked, let rest on the baking pan and a cooling rack for half an hour. Drizzle the buns liberally with the date lemon glaze and, if you wish, top with slivered almonds.

Posted on March 26, 2015February 21, 2022 by alexcrumb 0

Paddy Hills

I have my personal favourites when it comes to cafés, places I am willing to visit time and time again because they’ve proven themselves to be worthy of sustained customer support. Places which make you feel like you bloody well deserve that pocket of time to yourself, do most of their stuff from scratch, and leave you feeling that much better about yourself. Good food, service, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, you get the feel. These days, I find there is a serious influx of new cafés, all hidden in some back alleys, all seemingly rushed, not that I know any of what goes on behind the scenes of course, but nothing truly stood out, beckoning me with come hither vibes. But that’s exactly what Paddy Hills, the newest, half-pretentious, corner-of-the-block little café, did. When I walked in, a kind young lad with a grey beanie I desperately wanted for myself greeted me. I looked around and soaked in the delicious atmosphere– no arse-challenging seats, perfect for actually sitting, would you believe it? There was a large communal table where people chatted and worked on laptops. The air was cool, and indie folk was blaring audibly from above, but nothing intrusive. So far, so good. I was scared of thronging crowds, being packed sardine-style in between customers. It was a blistering hot Thursday at precisely 12pm, and I was waiting for pain. Thankfully, pain was something I didn’t experience. Lucky shot? I should think so. I haven’t written a review in ages, and only find it fitting to revive a well-missed habit with this one. I don’t remember being this excited about visiting a new f&b startup. Look, I do my fair share of stalking. I’ve recently cut down on my gross Instagram usage, but when it comes to that occasional hour of scrolling freedom, that mindless but glorious activity which is supposed to suppress boredom, I make full use of it. How could I not visit a place that sells the most photogenic food I’ve seen in a long time? I’m quite a stickler for tradition, but the dishes, which, although looked modern (obviously well-filtered) and had components which were separated for a contemporary effect, still seemed to speak volumes about flavour. It is this wordless, throbbing excitement which enticed me to hop over to the other side of the country, something I deem a fair feat in light of my usual reluctance to travel far distances for the sake of a good cuppa joe, and especially thanks to all the bird’s eye view shots of this berry ricotta hotcake. Berry Ricotta Hotcake with blueberry sugar, berries, pine nuts, mascarpone and maple syrup–$19

Now isn’t that a beauty. I marvelled for a while, too scared to touch the forest of berries let alone tuck in. The best part was definitely those perfectly crisp, mildly caramelised edges, a golden-brown ring of sweet, rigid bite. The best bite comprised these three components: a nip off the crisp edge, a poke of fruit, and a generous lathering of mascarpone from the ball of the stuff sitting on top. If one is lucky, you may get a bit of warm blueberry nestled like a crumble surprise in the middle of the cake, or a sweet little bit of mascarpone, pockets of which are also found dotted on the surface of the cake. You work your way in. Alas, it gets a bit stodgy a bit too fast, too soon. It’s indeed one of the lightest and fluffiest cakes I’ve ever come across, but at that, the fluff notch was turned up a bit too high near the middle, right at the thickest part of the hotcake. I know I know– what? How can anything be too fluffy? And prior to my experience here, I would have to agree. However, this maximal fluff generated clouds of uncontrollable, pale crumbs, which refused to cooperate with each other to produce a more solid, manageable mass. I was expecting a glorified Mickey Dees hotcake, but it’s entirely different. I was grateful for the carpet of colourful berries on top, for not only did they make the whole thing like a fairy forest, they were also necessary to balance the cake, which has maple syrup infused in the batter. The crumb, though light and pale, had a consistency moist enough so I could still smush bits together with the cheese and fruit to enjoy each and every bite. If anything, they should attempt reducing the thickness of the hotcake, retaining those divine edges and increasing the density, for maximum brunch pleasure. The Asian Brick: bruleed brioche french toast, goreng pisang (fried banana fritters), butternut squash puree, purple sweet potato, yam ice cream, gula melaka and marcona almonds– $18

Though I didn’t have the chance to actually try this french toast, I was highly impressed by the presentation and complementary components of the dish. I had a nip of the yam ice cream, and it was creamy, light and flavourful. The fact that it’s homemade and everything so intricately presented made the steep price a tad more understandable. The next time I’m here, I’m definitely ordering this. They also offer things like orange ricotta pillows, which have orange caramel and a citrus salad. All very posh, like they’re on their tippy-toes and reaching for the fine lights of modern gourmet fare. And you know what? They’re almost there. On the brink of something truly impressive, if it weren’t for two things: the coffee and the waiting time. I ordered a 2-ounce flat white ($4), but it tasted subdued, sub-par. I expected a little more because I read many a review on how spectacular the coffee is. Perhaps I was simply unlucky. I wanted a nick on the palate, a bite of caffeine, something.. more. Thankfully for them, I’m willing to return to try the other enticing menu options. Yes, some time in the future, before I break the bank. Rating: 3.8/5 Paddy Hills 38 South Buona Vista Road 6479 0800

Posted on March 23, 2015February 21, 2022 by alexcrumb 0

Bagel French Toast

Indeed, I am fully aware of the fact that this is not a totally novel idea. But what does make it outstanding is this– whipped cream cheese french toast batter. And no, I didn’t snap a picture of that because it’s not the most photogenic thing in the world, but hey, it’s the end result that counts, right? It’s all stupendously easy.

I’ll let the pictures do the talking here. Ideally, the bagel you use should be fresh or at most 2 days old. I know what you’re all probably thinking– aren’t these guys too dense to soak up enough batter?

Oh, you smart farts. But cutting the bagel into discs which are thin enough ensures the right amount of lovely cream cheese egg batter to be blissfully soaked up into the dense little bread bodies. Eating this was pure joy; think tender, chewy bread chunks, slightly sweet and tangy thanks to the cream cheese and honey, and surprisingly dunkable (I’m talking strong maple syrup game here), because they don’t disintegrate like your typical store-bought white bread slices.

For one person, take one bagel (I used cinnamon raisin here) and slice into discs around 3/4-inch thick using a serrated knife. Preheat a pan on the stove to medium heat. In a shallow dish and with a fork, whisk together one egg, one tablespoon of softened cream cheese, a squeeze of honey and a splash of whatever milk you have on hand. I didn’t use cinnamon because I used a cinnamon raisin bagel, but add a dash of that if you would like. Soak each bagel disc in the egg batter for at least 10-15 seconds on each side, and then flip to do the same on the other sides. To your preheated pan, add a generous pat of unsalted butter, then lay all the discs on the pan. Wait around 30 seconds to cook on the first side, then flip, starting with the disc you first laid down.

Pair your french toast bagel with anything! Lay on the maple syrup, or top simply with icing sugar and fresh fruit.

Posted on March 22, 2015February 21, 2022 by alexcrumb 0

Mini Orange Layer Cakes With Blackberry Lavender Buttercream

I’ve learnt a few things in the past few days. Firstly, it is actually impossible for me to do a tripod headstand. I’m sure this is a familiar term for all you yogis out there. I’ve been practicing yoga for years (to be fair, not so much during the later years of high school) and I still haven’t mastered it. It bothers me to no end.

Secondly, 1984 is almost blowing my mind. Not the literal 80s, of course, but Orwell’s magnum opus. I’m almost done and can’t wait to get my hands on Animal Farm. Sadly, I’m pretty slow with the classics.

Thirdly, right about this time of year, I feel completely and utterly at ease. Yet, I’m perfectly aware of the fact that way, way too much suffering is going on in the world to be ignored. Everyday I go about my business– practicing yoga, journalling, a little revision for my future course here and there, baking (what’s new!), fretting about hair and makeup… And all around me, bombs are dropped, little ones suffer, the clocks stop ticking for thousands, millions. With all the privileges that surround me, it’s easy to take things for granted. To continue living in a bubble of selfishness and oblivion. I just hope most people in the world are more.. aware. That’s all. Me included.

I shall now proceed to wax lyrical about my favourite (orange) cake recipe in the world. And that says something because I’ve made a fair bit of cake in my lifetime.

Oranges, oranges. I initially thought lemon, but lemon and blackberry is already a kill-me-classic, and with fresh, sweet oranges in the pantry, what’s there to fear? The citrus note of the cake using these was indeed milder, yet the flavour and goodness of that pulp and zest did all the talking. It still feels odd to have so much free time with the holidays in full bloom. Experimentation takes flight all the time, anywhere. Ideas flying left, right and centre. If I’m not thinking about what biology/biochem or fiction book to buy next, I’m recipe brainstorming, and goodness does it feel good. I was dying to sculpt mini layer cakes, because they’re the epitome of simple, refined, easy bakes. The blackberry lavender buttercream sandwiched between three layers of incredibly light, orange sponge adds aesthetic and textural oomph. The sweetness hits the palate just before you enjoy the moist and tender cake crumb. It truly is one of my favourite cake recipes.

You added actual blackberries…? With the… seeds?

Alright, that part is optional. Though most recipes state the addition of blackberry puree sans all the gritty bits, I personally prefer the addition of the seeds for added flavour and texture. Combined with the dried lavender, each bite is like pink fairy dust. Pink and purple aren’t exactly up there on my list of favourite colours (which actually just comprise black and burgundy), but the saccharine delicacy of each little cake is irresistible. I had to adjust the initial buttercream recipe because it yielded too thin a consistency. It all worked out pretty well in the end. If anything, I might just add a touch more tang, be it salt or cream cheese, to the buttercream.

Mini Orange Layer Cakes With Blackberry Lavender Buttercream (makes around 4 mini 3-layer cakes)

For the cake:

188g (1.5 cups) all-purpose flour

3/4 tablespoon baking powder

large pinch of salt

113g (half a cup) of soft, unsalted butter

225g (1 cup) sugar

2 eggs

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

zest of one small or medium-sized orange

160ml (2/3 cup) whole milk

50ml freshly squeezed orange juice

For the blackberry lavender buttercream:

226g (one cup) unsalted butter at room temperature

500 grams icing sugar

1 tbsp vanilla extract

large pinch of salt

1-2 tablespoons of dried lavender (optional)

55g fresh or frozen blackberries (around half a cup)

Preheat your oven to 177C (350F) and grease a 7×9-inch (or 8×8-inch) baking pan. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder and salt. In a larger bowl and with either a normal or electrical whisk, beat the butter and sugar for at least a couple of minutes, until light and fluffy. Beat in the zest of the orange, 2 eggs, and vanilla extract. Add a third of the flour mix, stir briefly with a spatula (no need to fully incorporate), then add half of the milk. Fold in briefly again. Add another third, the rest of the milk and the orange juice. Fold in briefly for a few seconds, before adding the rest of the flour. Mix until just combined. That part is so important, for there is a fine line between tender crumb and dull, dense, bleh. Don’t forget to scrape down the sides of the bowl and make sure the flour at the very bottom is well incorporated.

Pour the batter into the pan and bake in the preheated oven for 19-22 minutes. Put 21 to be safe (that’s how long it took mine). While you wait, make the buttercream.

In a large bowl and with an electrical whisk, beat the butter until it looks lighter and, well, fluffier. Add half of the icing sugar and vanilla, and beat. Take your blackberries and microwave on high for around 20 seconds, until you can see the juices seeping out and they are easy to mash. Mash them with a fork. Add to the mixing bowl, together with the remaining icing sugar. Beat until all is well combined. If you wish, fold in the dried lavender with a spatula. Place most of the buttercream in a piping bag fitted with whatever tip you like. Leave all the buttercream in the fridge for later use.

Assembly:

Once the cake is done, remove from the oven. It should be light brown and ever so slightly domed on top. Let cool in the pan on a wire rack. It will take at least half an hour to fully cool.

Once cool, take a 3-inch round cutter (or scallop-edged, up to you) and cut out little circles. Remove the buttercream from the fridge to let it warm up a little. Save the cake scraps for your family, before you eat everything yourself. You should get around 6-7 little circles, around 2 inches thick. Using a serrated knife, cut each little cake in half horizontally so you end up with two thinner cake discs. Pipe a circle of buttercream on the centre of one half, and press down with the other half. Pipe another circle on this half and then take a half from another cake and press down on that, so you end up with a mini 3-layer cake, each layer around 1 inch thick. Using a normal or palette knife, smear the sides and top with buttercream (reserved from the bowl) for make the crumb coat. Leave the cakes in the fridge to set and firm up for at least 2 hours, or overnight.

Take your piping bag and pipe more buttercream on top, then sprinkle with extra dried lavender.

Ah, life’s a playground.

Posted on March 18, 2015February 21, 2022 by alexcrumb 3

Chocolate Cinnamon Challah

I get all jittery and excited when attempting something new, although instinct forces me to revert to the safety net, a quantum of familiarity. Challah was one of those ideas which I wrestled with in my head. I wanted to feel good about turning it into something like french toast/ some flavoured version/lay on the stuffing options, please, that kind of thing. I came across a recipe for double chocolate chip challah quite a while ago but stuffed it in the back of my mental archives; I’m always timid when it comes to doing something old and traditional justice. The first attempt yielded too dry a texture (second photo below), though the taste and crumb itself wasn’t too far off the mark because the cocoa and decent amount of sugar incorporated into the batter made it more flavourful than expected. One does love surprises. So I adjusted the oil quantity to bump up the moisture, took it easy on the flour.

If you wish, you can attempt a chocolate gradient version– to each of the sections in the braid, you can add different quantities of cocoa, then adjust the remaining flour quantity from there. Who wouldn’t hit that stuff with a good knob of butter and honey? Please tell me, do.

Chocolate Cinnamon Challah (makes one large or 2 small loaves)

600g all-purpose flour

12.5g active dry yeast (1.5 tbsp)

300ml warm water

1 tsp white sugar

35g cocoa powder (Hershey’s Special Dark works wonderfully here)

2 eggs

170g sugar

1 tsp salt

1 tbsp cinnamon

2 tsp vanilla extract

65ml vegetable oil

1 egg (for the egg wash)

pearl sugar (for sprinkling before baking)

In a small bowl, mix together the yeast, sugar and water. Wait 6-10 minutes for the yeast to activate, forming a thick layer of light brown foam on top.

Weigh out the flour and cocoa and put the two in separate bowls. In a large mixing bowl, whisk together 200g of the flour (a little more than 1.5 cups), the salt, sugar and cinnamon. Once the yeast has foamed up, add it to the flour mix and stir in briefly using a wooden spoon. Then, mix in the vanilla extract, eggs and vegetable oil. Add 125g of the remaining flour and stir into the dough. If using a mixer, switch to the dough hook attachment, but otherwise make like Simpleton Alex and use a wooden spoon or your hands to incorporate the flour. At this point, the dough will still be a little wet and shaggy. Almost limp.

Take the dough and roughly divide it into three. I just used my hands and eyes to guesstimate here. If you’re feeling very scientific, you may use a weighing scale for precision. Put each dough third into separate medium bowls (re-use your mixing bowl for one of them). To one of the dough thirds, add half the cocoa powder, a tablespoon at a time, and 60g of flour, give or take. I needed 60g but you might need a little more of less. I say a tablespoon at a time because it really depends how dark you wish to go with your bread. Do the same for another third. To the remaining third of dough, add the rest of the flour, though you might not need all of it. All thirds should have a similar texture after kneading for around 5-10 minutes– smooth, elastic, with a little bounce when you press its surface. Let the dough thirds rise in their individual bowls (greased first) for 2-3 hours.

Preheat the oven to 177C (350F). Remove the dough thirds, which should have at least doubled in size, from the bowls and place them on your work surface. Roll each to at least 12 inches or more in length. If you’re making 2 smaller loaves, divide each in half first before braiding. Press the tops together and start braiding like how you would do with your hair. Left over middle, right over middle, you get the gist. Once you reach the tails, brush the loaf (or loaves) with one beaten egg, and sprinkle with pearl sugar. Let rise for an hour, before baking in the preheated oven. The challah should feel fluffy to the touch, still retaining that bounce. Bake for 25-30 minutes. I took mine out at 17 minutes and it was perfect by then. The top of the chocolate part should be dark and shiny, and the plain part of the braid will be golden-brown. Mmm.

Freeze this loaf and slice whenever you want. It reheats wonderfully in the microwave! 20 seconds straight out the freezer to return to room temperature, then toast for maximum pleasure. Butter and jam/honey. Life is sweet like chocolate and cinnamon.

Posted on March 16, 2015February 21, 2022 by alexcrumb 1

alexcrumb

recipes, catering, creativity