I don’t know if sometimes I should be committed to an institution or not. I admit that there’s a part of me that looks at something difficult and rubs my hands with glee thinking “Hmm I’d like to try that”. And that’s the part of me that probably should be institutionalised. I’m studying for my Ps and my husband keeps telling me that it’s not that hard, that millions of people already have theirs and that that should prove that it is indeed something easily within reach to an able bodied person. However a perverse part of me knows that if only 5 people in the world had a Driver’s License, then I’d be more interested in joining that club than one where millions of people belong. It’s utter foolishness for the most part as if I try, I probably wouldn’t get in but it’s the want in me that desires it.

This item was the best looking of the very gorgeously photographed 3 Star Chef book by Gordon Ramsay in the section he calls “The Dark Arts” (so Harry Potter, love it). So naturally I wanted to try and make it. I knew that I would have to make some adjustments (I used strawberries rather than rapsberries, I made honey ice cream instead of milk and one mousse type was canceled based on the amount of time it took to do another part, but more on that later). So was I able to recreate a 3 Michelin star restaurant dessert? Not exactly really and not without some adjustments to his recipes. I have to say that there were some crucial details missing for those who have never made the tuiles before and some things were just so not possible that I abandoned the recipe and made my own version (the directions for Italian Meringue for the mousse).

I had some issues with parts of this recipe so I’ve included the easier version which I know worked. I wouldn’t want my readers to go through the trauma of a failed recipe. And this dessert was actually served at Royal Hospital Road as seen on the Stomach Expansion blog. So without further ado, please take my hand and I welcome you to the saga that was the Strawberry and Mint Mille Feuille with Honey Ice Cream!

Click here to read the full story

If the name doesn’t sound dreamy enough, perhaps the look of these delicate frosted rose petaled cupcakes will convince you to make them. The cakes themselves are light as air, much like an unusual flavoured Angel food cupcake. It’s a simple-ish, light cake – specifically lemon with a cardamom pop in almost every bite. If you prefer your cupcakes, a little milder tasting you could certainly halve the amount of cardamom and crush them to disperse the flavour a bit more rather than having a concentrated pop when you bite into a seed.

The cake part is not overly sweet and barely contains any oils or butters and would be perfect with a cup of tea (I’d think coffee might overwhelm it). I found that this recipe made about 9 1/2 cupcakes but you may find it makes a round dozen if you have slightly smaller cases. And whilst you can technically eat the rose petals, I can’t say that I relished the petal I tasted. One thing to note that is if you refrigerate the cupcakes with petals atop, they will become “wet” and lose their fabulous glacial beauty so if you need to refrigerate them, add the petals on before serving. And it goes without saying that with this name it is best served to your loved one or your wannabe loved one in lieu of a piece of poetry.

Click here to read the full story

Like an abused pet that is shown signs of kindness, I approached macaron making again with a little nervousness and trepidation. I’d had a semi successful attempt with a Nigella recipe after a few terrible attempts with a Martha one so I was given a little encouragement. Not enough to make me cocky, far from it in fact. But enough to make me give the recipes a shy, sidelong look every now and again and even think to myself “that would be wonderful in a macaron” (although I’d never say that out loud, that would err on the cocky side, or at least confident side, which I am not on).

I even stocked up on supplies to make them, purchasing a 1kg bag of almond meal. This meant that I was either thinking of making multiple batches of macarons or making friands. As I don’t have a friand tin, all evidence points to the former. So urban-cavewoman style, I brought home my big bag of almond meal like a fresh kill and set it down on the counter proudly, like I had picked the almonds and ground them myself.

This is a fiddly cupcake, I’ll make no bones about it. You need to make the macaron to top it and then make the cupcake base and the rose cream and slice up berries and lychees to fill it and top with a rose petal. But the overall effect is quite spectacular. I made the macaron top first as I knew that if I wasn’t successful at that, then I wouldn’t bother making the rest. You see, I’m still slightly scarred by my failed attempts. I also chose this cupcake recipe as it sometimes gives a macaron crust on the top of the cupcake, I say sometimes, when I make this as sometimes it doesn’t work out that way. Cakelaw found that she got the macaron crust on top here but I didn’t get it for this particular lot of cupcakes. Must be something to do with science…

I suspect that Pierre Herme, the creator of the Ispahan would be quite horrified at the idea of his lauded creation being turned into something as cute and kitsch as a cupcake, indeed I saw not a single cupcake in all of my travels in Paris. However it’s not exactly like an Ispahan in that the base is a strawberry rose cupcake and the filling is buttercream and not a buttercream and custard creme anglaise combination (I only have so much patience). Also being Mid Winter in Sydney meant that only strawberries and some blueberries make an appearance so I had to improvise and use strawberries rather than raspberries.

I hope you will find these a fitting homage to the Ispahan, the taste of these are ambrosial and well worth the effort.

Click here to read the full story