best basic pancakes & pancake faq

A recipe for the ‘best pancakes’ is not the easiest thing to find. This isn’t because there aren’t a million recipes out there claiming that coveted title – there really is that many out there. Rather, I think the problem has to do with the fact that people want different things from their favourite pancake recipe.

When I was a kid, pancakes were something between American-style hotcakes and crepes; they were tender but not fluffy, rollupable but not fragile. We had them with lemon juice and sugar. Sometimes at other kids’ houses they were rubbery and bland and spread with jam I didn’t much care for, but lord knows I ate them anyway. I still like pancakes this way – the way my Mother used to make them – sometimes. But somewhere along the line I discovered the joy of thick, fluffy American-style stacked pancakes, and it pretty much changed what I wanted in a pancake forever.

For something made with such a simple batter, you’d think the basic pancake would be easy to whip up and that everyone would have this down pat. But since converting to the pleasures of the stack, I’ve encountered dozens of incarnations – both good and bad, at people’s homes and out at cafes – that would suggest otherwise. I’ve had cake-like versions, so big and puffy you want to crawl into the middle of one and have a nap, and airy versions with a sparse, drier crumb. I’ve had pancakes with apple grated into the batter, resulting in a delicious moist, fritter-like cake and I’ve had others that took the idea of the ‘simple batter’ without a grain of salt, quite literally.

While there’s room for all kinds of pancakes in this world, what I want is a go-to recipe that produces consistently fluffy, tasty pancakes with a moist and toothsome texture. They should be porous enough to soak up whatever you pour over them, but they should also taste good unadorned. They should be made with stuff that is (usually) already in your fridge and, they should be easy enough to whip up on a Sunday morning after a few too many wines the night before.

I tried around six recipes that used different techniques to achieve the fluffy, tender texture I was after. I tried whipping and folding in egg whites, using buttermilk, leaving batters to rest for an hour and overnight – even adding soda water. Of course the America’s Test Kitchen Family Cookbook had the answer all along – and it was so, so simple: buttermilk + minimal mixing = tender, awesome pancakes. When I say minimal mixing, I mean there’s still lumps and bumps in that batter when you pour it into your greased pan. There’s science here: the less you mix the batter, the less chance the gluten in the flour has to develop that chewiness that is so good in bread, so bad in pancakes. So knead, knead, knead your bread, lovelies – but mix your pancake batter like a kid with no patience. And pour on syrup like there’s no tomorrow.

Best basic pancakes

Recipe from America’s Test Kitchen Family Cookbook, pancake FAQ by me

*This version of recipe is for when you don’t have buttermilk on hand; if you do, simply replace the milk with buttermilk and disregard the lemon juice
Makes around 12 pancakes

2 cups milk
1 tbsp lemon juice
2 cups plain flour
2 tsp baking powder
½ tsp baking soda
2 tbsp sugar
½ tsp salt
1 egg
3 tbsp butter, melted
butter, to grease pan

1. To make buttermilk, stir lemon juice into milk and set aside to thicken.

2. Combine flour, baking powder, baking soda, sugar and salt in a large bowl and whisk to combine.

3. In a smaller bowl, whisk egg with melted butter, then add buttermilk and whish gently until just combined.

4. Make a well in centre of dry ingredients and pour in buttermilk mixture. Whisk very gently until just combined; mixture will be lumpy and uneven.

5. Heat pan to medium hot and add a small knob of butter. Pour 1/3 cup batter into pan. When bubbles appear on the surface of the batter, flip pancake to cook other side. Repeat with remaining batter, greasing pan when necessary.

Pancake FAQ


What should I cook my pancakes in?

The best pan for cooking pancakes is something nice and heavy, like a cast iron skillet. This is because it will distribute and retain heat evenly, cooking your pancakes beautifully every time. I use an enameled cast iron skillet and find it needs very little greasing. Just make sure you heat the pan adequately and test before you start cooking, as they can take a while to get to the right temperature.

Can I add things to this recipe to make other kinds of pancakes?

Why, yes – yes you can. I’ve had great success with this recipe and the following variations: add ricotta, blueberries or both (either in the batter, or sprinkled on once poured into pan); make wholemeal/wholegrain pancakes – simply replace one cup of plain flour with wholemeal; add slices of banana to poured pancake before flipping; add grated cheese to batter for a crispy, crispy surface. This is a very adaptable recipe, so try whatever your heart desires.

What’s the best way to keep the cooked pancakes warm while I finish cooking the rest of the batch?

The America’s Test Kitchen Family Cookbook has this covered, too. I use their suggestion here, which is to preheat your oven on a low setting and put a wire cooling rack over a baking tray/sheet in it. When each pancake is done, place it on the rack in the oven, trying your best not to overlap with other pancakes. This keeps the little babies warm and stops them from loosing their fluffiness and being flattened under the weight of one another.

How long will the batter keep?

The batter will keep a couple of days in the fridge, should you wish to use any remaining the following morning or for dessert. Pour into a jug and cover before placing in the fridge.

Can I freeze cooked pancakes?

Surprisingly, yes! Ok, so maybe it’s only a surprise for freezer-dummies like me. To do this, let the cooked pancakes cool to room temperature before wrapping well (double-wrap will help prevent freezer burn) in plastic wrap and popping in the freezer. ATK says they’ll keep well for a week here and I can’t say any different, cause all mine got eaten within the week. To reheat, defrost in the fridge overnight then warm in a moderate oven for around 5 minutes.

Where can I read more on pancakes?

Have you gone mental? Ok. Deb at Smitten Kitchen has a great guide to pancakes. I’d go there first.

retro recipe revamp: quesillo de piña con la menta

Sorry for the lack of posts round these parts, but the last fortnight has been crazy busy. I hope this Venezuelan pineapple and mint flan makes up for it.

Hey, even if you don't like pineapple, or mint, or (god forbid) flan, how could you not love the vintage cookbook this week's recipe came from? Allow me to introduce you to the authorised British edition of Latin American Cooking, released in 1970 as part of the 'Foods of the World' Time Life Books series, a cookbook filled with wonderful full-page colour photographs and historical and geographical information about the foods of Latin America. And the people that eat them. Check this out. 

Cool kids partying in Peru, 1968

Kitty cats round the buffet in Rio, late 60s.

A fancy Columbian family about to tuck into a lunch of fried plantains and a disturbingly-decorated piggy.

I don't think I need to tell you that I love this book.  So again, it was hard to decide what to make. Despite its retro aesthetic, it's actually full of all kind of interesting recipes for food that's something close to "authentic" Latin American cuisine; there's step-by-step pictures to help you make tamales and tortillas and an in-depth section on cooking parrillero, or Argentine BBQ. There's also this handy guide, in case you didn't know how:

But seeing as I've been under the weather this week, I made the decision not to drink tequila and instead to make a pineapple flan with bitter caramel atop a firm but delicate custard of eggs, condensed milk and pineapple juice - and I decided to infuse the milk with fresh mint, just for a bit of a lift.  I poured the caramel and custard into individual darioles and reduced the cooking time by about half. 

While the end result is not quite as silky as a custard made entirely from milk or cream, the punchy bright flavours of the pineapple and mint more than make up for it and inject a little summertime spritz into a classic dessert. I'm thinking this dish would provide the ideal finish to a Latin American summer BBQ; hot weather, cold, strong cocktails, people dancing to bossa nova on the stereo and a pineapple mint flan. I think I just planned my birthday party. 

Lexi.x

Quesillo de piña con la menta (pineapple flan with mint)

Adapted from Latin American Cooking (1970)

Makes 1 large flan serving 6 - 8, or 7 small dariole-sized flans

For the caramel:

200g caster sugar

6 tbs water

For the custard:

1 tin condensed milk (395g)

1 sprig of mint

3 whole eggs + 2 egg yolks

1 1/2 cups pineapple juice (I used the retro-friendly tall Golden Circle tin)

3 tbs sugar

mint sprigs, to serve

1. To infuse with mint, pour condensed milk into a small saucepan and add 1 sprig of fresh mint. Heat the milk over very low heat, being careful not to burn, until the mint wilts and the mixture has taken on its flavour and fragrance, about 5 minutes. Set aside to cool. 

2. To make caramel, combine caster sugar and water in a heavy saucepan and swirl gently until sugar begins to dissolve. Heat the mixture over medium heat, swirling (not stirring) so that the sugar dissolves evenly. Let the mixture bubble away until it becomes a gorgeous dark golden colour (like tea) and takes on a heavenly caramel smell. Remove from heat quickly. Be careful as the mixture gets very, very hot and can burn instantly once the colour starts to develop. 

3. Being very careful not spill the mixture (and burn your hands off), pour the caramel into the bottom of your mould/s. (If you want to, using a folded tea towel or oven mitts, you can pick up the mould and swirl the mixture round and up the sides - I didn't bother with my mini-flans.) Set aside to cool slightly. 

4. Heat the oven to 325F/170C and put your kettle on to boil. To make your custard, beat the eggs and extra yolks until well combined and creamy. Remove the mint sprig from the cooled condensed milk and slowly add it to the eggs along with the pineapple juice and sugar, beating gently all the while (the mixmaster was great for this). When well combined, strain the mixture through a sieve to remove any lumps and pour into mould/s. 

5. Place the mould/s into a baking pan with high sides and gently slide this into the preheated oven. Pour enough boiling water into the pan to come half-way up the sides of the mould/s. Bake for around 30 minutes, or until a knife inserted into the centre comes out clean. When cooked, remove flans from water and set aside to cool, before refrigerating for at least 3 hours. 

6. To serve, run a sharp knife around the edge and sides of the flan/s and dip the bottom of the mould briefly in hot water. Place your serving plate upside down over the mould and invert flan. If it doesn't budge, give it a little tap on the bench and it should slip out. Garnish with mint sprigs.

pumpkin waffles with honey & cinnamon butter

I’ve been inside a lot recently. In my lounge room, surrounded by stacks of paper-clipped, stapled, scribbled-on photocopies. In my kitchen, highlighting passages with one hand, putting bread into the toaster with the other. In my bed, waking up to find my face stuck to a book. Comfy.

Quincy watches me, head cocked to one side, thinking: ‘She’s lost it. My owner has lost it. She’d better not forget my crackers.’

I haven’t been cooking, or even eating, really. I mean I eat, but I don’t know what. Half a pineapple my Mum bought me at the market, all in one go? A spoonful of peanut butter, standing at the fridge? 375g of corn kernels, straight out of the can? Yes, yes and yes.

I’m not depressed. But I am writing a thesis. This evening, for 45 minutes I pretended that I wasn’t. This is what happened:

Heaven is a place where your thesis is finished and it smells like pumpkin waffles with honey and cinnamon butter all the time.

I’ll be there soon.


Pumpkin waffles with honey and cinnamon butter
Adapted from THE recipe at Pumpkin Waffles Blog
Makes 6 waffles (not the Belgian kind)

For honey & cinnamon butter:

75 gm unsalted butter, softened
1 tsp cinnamon
2 tsp honey

For waffles:

350 gm pumpkin, cut into chunks
50 gm brown sugar
25 gm corn flour
150 gm plain flour
2 tsp baking powder
½ tsp salt
1½ tsp cinnamon
1½ tsp ginger
½ tsp cloves
¾ tsp nutmeg
2 large eggs
I cup buttermilk
55 gm butter, melted

1. To make honey & cinnamon butter, beat cinnamon and honey into softened butter. Cover and place in refrigerator.
2. For waffles, roast pumpkin pieces (with skin) until soft. Remove from oven, cool and mash.
3. Turn your waffle iron on to heat!
4. Combine dry ingredients. Start with brown sugar and corn flour, whisk to combine and break up lumps. Add remaining dry ingredients and whisk again.
5. Separate your eggs, putting yolks into a medium sized bowl. Set whites aside in a smaller bowl.
5. Add mashed pumpkin and buttermilk to egg yolks. Whisk to combine and set aside.
7. Beat egg whites (with your hand mixer or your mixmaster) until stiff peaks form and set aside.
8. Pour melted butter into the pumpkin mixture, whisking to combine.
9. Add pumpkin mixture to dry ingredients, and mix until just combined. Try to avoid mixing! A few visible streaks of flour is fine.
10. Fold egg whites gently into mixture until combined.
11. Cook the babies! My waffle iron takes about two big soupspoons of batter for each waffle and I cook them for around 4 minutes. You may need to experiment a little though.

'absent friends' coconut cream pie

I call this pie 'absent friends' coconut cream pie for two reasons: 1) I was listening to the Divine Comedy when I was baking it and, 2) it was inspired by a piece of pie I shared with my pal Emma on my last night in New York, without our mutual friend Jane there to help us out.


Not only is Emma one of Time Out's Most Stylish New Yorkers, but she's a regular at a brilliant little bar called The Great Jones Cafe. There's more than a dozen reasons I'd recommend visiting this place while you're in town, but here's two: 1) the greatest jukebox I've ever come across and, 2) the coconut cream pie.


Everything that came out of that little kitchen behind the bar smelled and looked Delicious - and I can personally attest to the fact that the cornmeal catfish, the okra, the burger and the sweet potato fries are Delicious. Oh - and the coconut cream pie. But before I tried it, I totally had to be convinced. Despite food being like the centre of my gluttonous universe, I really am not that big on cream. Stoopid, huh? I like custard, and ice cream and even pannacotta - but my inner-lactard just starts freaking out when I'm presented with a pile of the freshly whipped stuff. In any case, I needn't have worried, because coconut cream pie at The Great Jones is just not like all those other pies. It's creamy, but with rich, coconutty custard atop a short and sweet crumb crust that balances perfectly with the silky filling. There's no giant layer of cream spread on the top of the pie: instead, it's adorned with a mound of toasted, shredded coconut - and the cream is served on the side, if you want it. Of course, as soon as I got home, I had to start trying to make this.


So this was my first attempt - and I'm actually very happy with it. I cobbled together a couple of recipes to approximate the Jones's beautiful pie, including the cracker crust from The Hummingbird Bakery's Key Lime Pie and a coconut milk custard from a recipe on epicurious. I skipped the cream top, folding only a little into the custard to lighten it before pouring it into the crust and topped the whole thing with freshly-roasted coconut. It was (and is) really good. I even just got some licks of approval from Quincy Cat, who's eating some with me now. When I ate it with Emma we were missing our friend Jane, back in Melbourne. As I eat it now, I miss Emma - and those great nights at the Jones. At least I can always raise my fork; absent friends, here's to them! x

absent friends coconut cream pie
Adapted from the hummingbird bakery cookbook and epicurious

Notes: I originally made a full quantity of crust, but there was far too much for this pie. I threw some mixture away and still thought it was a little too thick, so I've halved the recipe here: should be about right. I used less coconut than specified in the filling, but was surprised to find it could have done with the extra after all, so I've included the original amount here. Finally, some recipes say that this is best eaten on the day it's made. I think this pie is lovely (and even more coconutty) even two days later, so there!

cracker crust
250 gm digestive biscuits or graham crackers
100 gm unsalted butter

coconut cream filling
2 1/4 cups canned unsweetened coconut milk
2/3 cup sugar
4 large egg yolks
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons cornflour
Pinch of salt
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature
3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons shredded unsweetened dried coconut, toasted
3/4 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/4 cup heavy (whipping) cream
1/2 tablespoon icing sugar

1. Preheat oven to 180/355. To make cracker crust, process biscuits until finely crushed (you can do this with a rolling pin if you like). Add melted butter and process or stir until crumbs come together. Using a large spoon or the bottom of a drinking glass (I find this easier for the sides), press the crumb mixture into a pie tin to form the shell. A good trick for the sides is to use your thumb to keep the mixture down at the rim, while using the glass to press and form the side. Keep doing this around the circumference of the pie, and you should have a nice, even shell. Bake for around 20 - 25 minutes, or until set and golden.

2. Heat the coconut milk to just below boiling point. Remove and cover to keep hot. using an electric mixer, beat the egg yolks with the sugar until pale and voluminous. Whip in the flour, corn flour and salt.

3. While still beating, gradually pour in the warm coconut milk. When all is incorporated, return the mixture to the saucepan and cook over medium-high heat, whisking constantly, until it comes to a boil and thickens, then boil for 1 minute, whisking constantly. Remove the pan from the heat, add the butter, and whisk until melted. Add 3/4 cup of the coconut and 1/2 teaspoon of vanilla.

4. Transfer the coconut cream to a bowl and let cool to room temperature, whisking occasionally to prevent a skin from forming. When cooled, cover the surface with plastic wrap (push in against the custard) to prevent a skin from forming and refrigerate for about 2 hours, until thoroughly chilled and set (You can do this a day in advance).

5. Beat cream with the icing sugar until it holds stiff peaks. With a rubber spatula, gently fold the cream into the coconut custard. Using the spatula, transfer the filling to the crust and smooth the top. Sprinkle the top of the pie with the remaining toasted coconut and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes, or for up to 4 hours, before serving to set.

lemon and olive oil cake

I know I'm not the only one who loves a plain-ish, not-too-sweet everyday cake. Fancy six layer super-cakes are great and all, but sometimes there's nothing more lovely than a Sunday afternoon cup of tea and an ever so slightly austere yet pretty, slice of home-baked cake. I'd been wanting to try this lemon and olive oil cake for a little while since spotting it on epicurious.com a couple of months ago, so today after a morning of gardening (hard work!), I thought a tea-time treat was in order.


I know it doesn't look like much, but hopefully those of you that understand the charm of the everyday cake will understand just how lovely this one is. It's a little sweeter than some of the other everyday cakes I usually make, but the tanginess of the lemon and the fruitiness of the extra virgin olive oil offset this sweetness nicely, resulting in a wonderfully soft and balanced cake that is perfectly delicious on it's own or warm with cream and/or fruit as a dessert. It contains flour, but no raising agent, relying instead on the fluffy lightness of whipped egg whites which are folded into the batter at the last moment.

The great thing about cakes made with olive oil (besides the delicious taste) is that they seem to stay fresh for a few days longer than those made with butter - and this is a big plus in a household of two where one "person" has four legs and doesn't eat cake. Slices of this cake will make it into the office and to the table for Monday night catch-up with friends over tea. There'll be a slice or two in my lunchbox this week and maybe a piece, rewarmed and served with lemon butter and/or ice-cream if I have a bad day (or a really good one!). If you're not into the idea of olive oil in desserts, try dialing back the olive flavour by using a light olive oil in place of the extra virgin. You'll get all the benefits of the oil with a less pronounced olive flavour.

lemon and olive oil cake
from epicurious.com

3/4 cup extra virgin olive oil (or light for a more mellow flavour), plus additional for greasing pan
1 large lemon
1 cup cake or "00" flour
5 large eggs, separated, reserving 1 white for another use (5 yolks, 4 whites)
3/4 cup plus 1 1/2 tablespoons sugar

1. Preheat oven to 180°C (350° F). Grease a springform pan with some olive oil and line the bottom with a round piece of baking paper. Oil paper also.

2. Finely grate 1 1/2 teaspoons of lemon zest and whisk into your flour. Now halve your lemon and squeeze out 1 1/2 tablespoons juice; put aside.

3. With an electric mixer, beat together yolks (5) and 1/2 cup sugar in a large bowl until thick and pale (about 3 minutes). Reduce speed to medium and add olive oil (3/4 cup) and reserved lemon juice, beating until just combined (original recipe states that mixture may appear separated at this point; mine was fine). Using a wooden spoon, gently stir in flour mixture until just combined.

4. Clean your beaters to beat egg whites (4) with 1/2 teaspoon salt in another large bowl at medium-high speed until foamy, then add 1/4 cup sugar a little at a time, beating, and continue to beat until egg whites just hold soft peaks (about 3 minutes).
Very gently, fold one third of whites into yolk mixture to lighten, then fold in remaining whites gently but thoroughly. Your batter will have changed texture now into a foamy, soft mass.

5. Transfer batter to greased pan. Sprinkle top of batter with remaining 1 1/2 tablespoons sugar. Bake until puffed and golden and a skewer inserted in center of cake comes out clean (about 45 minutes; mine took 40). Cool cake in pan on a rack 10 minutes, then run a thin knife around edge of pan and remove side of pan. Cool cake to room temperature, about 1 1/4 hours. Remove bottom of pan, peel off paper and transfer cake to serving plate.

bánh mì and bánh gan, or pork meatball sandwich and coconut creme caramel

Friday nights I'm usually home-bound; I'm tired after a full week of working and writing and I just want to sit on the couch with a glass of wine, watch Masterchef and eat something that's half-treat, half-comfort. Lately, my Mum has been joining me for Friday night masterclass action and last Friday night we had a casual Vietnamese dinner of bánh mì and bánh gan - and it was awesome, as you can see.


First of all, how good are meatball sandwiches? When we were younger, my brother and I became obsessed with them watching Point Break (2001); here's the reason. Though to tell you truth, I don't think I'd ever had one - except for those Vietnamese rolls with those delicious (lukewarm) pork meatballs that are probably a bit dangerous, but are so, so good. I was always tempted to ask for only meatballs, but they seemed so special that I didn't think this was a possibility. Turns out that making them at home was the answer.

These meatballs have so much flavour that they're killer snacks just on their own. But encased in those super-light Vietnamese/French baguettes and garnished with sweet vinegary carrot and daikon pickles, hot chilli mayo and fresh sprigs of coriander, these are near on perfect.


But what to eat afterwards? We tried not to be piggies and had smaller rolls for dinner, but only so we could fit this in. In another culinary triumph of Vietnamese/French fusion, I bring you bánh gan, or the coconut creme caramel - so perfect after something spicy. Half the milk or cream of the regular flan is replaced here with coconut milk, resulting in a pudding that is silky and refreshing and not too sweet. I also swapped the brown sugar in the custard recipe here for grated palm sugar and was very glad I did: the sweetness was even more subtle and nuanced than I'd expected. And these two dishes went down so well together that now I find it hard to imagine making one and not the other. Oh oh...

Bánh mì - Vietnamese meatball sandwiches
Adpated from Bon Appétit Jan 2010

For the hot chilli mayonnaise:
2/3 cup mayonnaise
2 spring onions, finely chopped
1 tablespoon hot chilli sauce (I use sriracha)

For the meatballs:
500g pork mince
1/4 cup finely chopped fresh Thai basil (or regular basil)
4 garlic cloves, minced
3 spring onions, finely chopped
1 tablespoon fish sauce
1 tablespoon sriracha or other hot chilli sauce
1 tablespoon sugar
2 teaspoons cornflour
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 teaspoon salt

For the sandwiches:
1 cup julienned or coarsely grated carrots
1 cup julienned or coarsely grated peeled daikon (Japanese white radish)
1/4 cup rice vinegar
1/4 cup sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon sesame oil
4 10-inch-long baguettes (preferably from a Vietnamese bakery)
Thinly sliced jalapeño chiles
About 16 large fresh coriander sprigs

1. To make the hot chilli mayonnaise, stir all ingredients in small bowl. Season with salt. Cover and chill.

2. To make the meatballs: line a baking tray with plastic wrap. Gently mix all meatball ingredients in large bowl. Using moistened hands, roll scant tablespoons of the meat mixture into 1-inch meatballs. Arrange on baking sheet. Cover and chill.

3. For the rest of the sandwich, toss the first 5 ingredients in medium bowl to make the pickles. Let stand at room temperature 1 hour, tossing occasionally.

4. Preheat oven to 180°C. Heat sesame oil in large pan over medium-high heat. Add half of meatballs and sauté until brown and cooked through. This should take around 15 minutes - be careful not to burn! Transfer meatballs to another rimmed baking sheet. Place in oven. Repeat with remaining meatballs.

5. Cut each baguette in half, not quite all the way. Spread hot chili mayo over both cut sides of rolls. Fill each with 1/4 of meatballs and pickled vegetables (drained), jalapeños and coriander to taste. Eat over a plate, as these can get gloriously messy.


Bánh gan - coconut creme caramel
Adapted from Good Taste 2007

225g (1 cup) white sugar
80ml (1/3 cup) water
1 x 400ml can coconut milk
375ml (11/2 cups) milk
6 eggs, lightly whisked
100g (1/2 cup, firmly packed) grated palm sugar sugar
1/2 vanilla bean

1. Preheat oven to 160°C. First make your caramel. Combine the white sugar and water in a medium saucepan over low heat. Cook, stirring, for 2 minutes or until sugar dissolves. Increase heat to high and bring to the boil. Boil, without stirring, occasionally brushing down side of pan with a pastry brush dipped in water, for 3-4 minutes or until beautiful golden. Watch out, because this burns easily at this stage! Pour the caramel mixture evenly among eight 160ml (2/3-cup) capacity ovenproof ramekins. Set aside for 5 minutes or until set.

2. Whisk together the coconut milk, milk, egg, grated palm sugar in a large bowl until well combined. Scrape in vanilla bean and whisk again to combine. Strain through a fine sieve into a jug. Carefully pour this over the caramel mixture in the ramekins.

3. Place the ramekins in a large roasting pan. Boil your kettle and pour enough boiling water into the pan to reach halfway up the sides of the ramekins. Bake in oven for 35-40 minutes or until the custards are just set. Transfer to a baking tray and set aside for 1 hour to cool. Cover the ramekins with plastic wrap and place in the fridge for 6 hours or overnight to chill.

4. To serve, run a flat-bladed knife around the inside edge of the ramekins and carefully turn onto serving plates. I didn't have any on hand, but recipe suggest sprinkling with toasted shredded coconut and lime rind to serve.

Cure for Sunday afternoon Autumn melancholy: Pear and Hazelnut Torta

Autumn Sunday mornings in Melbourne often begin a bit like the opening credits of Douglas Sirk’s 1955 film, All That Heaven Allows, I think. All red and yellow leaves and a gentle wind that stirs them like a warning for what lies ahead. Soft light makes everything glow like Technicolour and the whole scene is so lovely, that if you look for too long your chest begins to feel heavy with the weight of doomed romance or winter’s coming. What you need then, is something to eat that celebrates Autumn. Something wholesome and golden that reminds you how good the present moment can be.


Something with pears, perhaps? This little cure for Autumn melancholy is made from a recipe in this month’s delicious. magazine that I bookmarked right away. And it is everything I wanted it to be on that sort of a Sunday afternoon; it is a toothsome and nutty tart with hits of fragrant roasted pear scattered about on top. Something magic happens to it in the oven and the batter separates into a spongy, cake-like layer on the bottom and a chewy frangipane-like top layer. It comes out looking as if you’ve done something fancy – or time consuming, at the very least. It is shallow and not too sweet and would be delicious with a dollop of mascarpone, although I loved it warm on it’s own with coffee. A piece of this and a bit of Nina Simone on the stereo will sweeten your Autumn Sunday afternoon.



Pear and hazelnut torta
Serves 6

Note: to toast and remove skins from hazelnuts, place on an oven tray and roast for around 10 minutes or until they smell good and toasty. Be careful though – they burn real quick! While hot, put into a clean tea towel and rub vigorously until skins have been removed.

100g toasted hazelnuts with skins removed
½ cup (110g) caster sugar, plus 2 tsp extra to top
1/3 cup (50g) plain flour
½ tsp baking powder
pinch of salt
2 eggs
¼ cup (60ml) milk
1 tsp vanilla extract
80g unsalted butter, melted & cooled
20g extra butter, chilled and chopped
2 ripe but firm pears
icing sugar, to dust

Preheat oven to 170°C (or 190° in my slow old thing). Grease a 26sm round tart pan or quiche dish.

Place hazelnuts, caster sugar and 1 tablespoon of flour in food processor and whiz until the nuts are ground. Stop before they become too fine and form a paste. Tip this mixture into a large bowl. Sift in remaining flour, baking powder and salt. Whisk until thoroughly combined.

In a separate bowl, whisk eggs until slightly frothy, then add milk, vanilla and cooled butter, whisking to combine. Pour this into the dry ingredients and stir with a rubber spatula until well combined. The mixture might be runnier than what you’d expect of a regular cake batter. Scrape this into your prepared pan.

Peel, quarter and core pears then cut each quarter into 3 or 4 thin slices. If you’re neat and fussy, fan these by pressing gently on the quarter and transfer with a palette knife to the top of the batter. If you’re like me (lazy), do the best you can using only your fingers until it looks a bit like the picture. Repeat for both pears. Sprinkle top of the torta with extra caster sugar, concentrating on the pear fans and finally, dot fruit with chilled chopped butter.

Bake for 25 – 30 minutes, or until tart is golden and has puffed slightly (mine took 5 minutes longer even). Transfer to a wire rack and sift over a good layer of icing sugar. Allow to cool to warm then add another finer layer of icing sugar. Serve warm with cream or marscapone or at room temperature with coffee.

(Cheat's) Ricotta Cannoli

This week I learnt that even when things are so busy that you can't find time to do your washing, there's still enough time to make cannoli. Amazing, huh? So I thought I'd better share, pronto.


The trick is, of course, to buy ready-made cannoli shells from the Italian grocery store and pipe them full of a light mixture of fresh ricotta, chocolate, pistachios and dried sour cherries. This means that these delicious Italian afternoon coffee-time treats are ready in only ten minutes. I served them the other evening as the dessert course of a late Friday night supper and they were a perfectly light conclusion to a lovely evening of wine and small bites.

I love all kinds of cannoli (including those stuffed with chocolate Italian pastry cream), but the ricotta versions are genius, I think. You could make them without the cherries or use cranberries instead, or just use nuts and cinnamon. Just tailor them to your preference and you can't really go wrong. If you've got 15 minutes to spare, you're set: 10 minutes to make, 5 minutes to enjoy with a strong espresso. And then maybe you can put the washing on.

Note: For Melbourne readers, I bought these cannoli shells at Mediterranean Wholesalers on Sydney Rd, Brunswick (a must-visit if you've never been). They are made in Italy and come in a pack of 10 and keep well in an air-tight container. Otherwise, try Italian grocery stores and bakeries.

(Cheat's) Ricotta Cannoli

6 large ready-made cannoli shells

About 400g fresh ricotta
4 tbsp icing (confectioners) sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
finely grated zest of one lemon
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
50g chopped pistachio nuts
50g dark or bittersweet chocolate, chopped or grated
1/3 cup dried sour cherries, pitted and chopped

Break ricotta into a medium bowl and sift sugar over. Add vanilla, lemon zest and cinnamon and beat with a handheld electric beater until smooth and well combined. Fold in remaining ingredients.

Place mixture into a piping bag with a large nozzle (or a strong freezer bag with a corner cut off) and pipe into shells. Cannoli are ready but keep quite well for a day covered in the fridge.

Pomegranate and Apple Jelly

I love the way that moulded jelly looks like it has fallen from a children’s storybook onto your table, shining and wobbly. It, like chocolate mousse, was something we loved when we were kids and the best ever was when, for birthday parties, Mum would make layered jelly in different colours in small plastic wine glasses.


I’d been wanting for a while to make this jelly from Tessa Kiros’ beautiful book, Apples for Jam. We (now grown-ups) ate this two tone fruit juice treat the day before Christmas as an after-lunch dessert when we felt like something sweet that wouldn’t bowl us over right before the big day. It was light and refreshing, perfect for summer, or anytime you feel like some childhood comfort food minus the artificial colouring. This is so easy, and you could use all kinds of fruit, but the colours in this combination are beautiful I think. You can’t see it in the photograph, but I threw some blueberries into the pomegranate layer too, and they were delicious.


Pomegranate and Apple Jelly
From Tessa Kiros’ Apples for Jam
Note: If you’ve never juiced pomegranates before, all you need to do is cut them in half just like an orange, and twist away on a citrus juicer. Alternatively, you can buy the juice in bottles at some fruit stores, supermarkets and Middle Eastern food stores.

vegetable oil, to grease
170ml pomegranate juice (or juice from two pomegranates)
2 tbsp lemon juice
75g caster sugar
6 tsp powdered gelatine
170 ml cloudy apple juice

Using some paper towel, lightly grease 6 small jelly moulds with vegetable oil. In a small saucepan, combine pomegranate juice, 1 tablespoon of lemon juice and 50g of the sugar and heat gently, stirring until sugar dissolves. Meanwhile, add 3 tsp of the gelatin to 3 tbsp of water. Leave for a minute or two until it swells and then add to the hot juice. Stir until dissolved and smooth and remove from heat. Pour the mixture into the moulds evenly. Pop these in the refridgerator.

Next, add the apple juice, 1 tablespoon lemon juice and remaining sugar to small saucepan. Heat gently, and meanwhile, prepare remaining gelatin with water as above. When the sugar has dissolved, add gelatin to juice and stir until smooth and dissolved. Remove from heat and leave to cool in saucepan.

When the first layer is set enough for you to touch the surface lightly without rupturing, gently spoon the cooled apple mixture over the top and return to refrigerator until set. To serve, dip the moulds very quickly into hot water and invert.

Grown-up Chocolate Mousse

As kids, my brother and I would have killed for chocolate mousse. It was the most rich and awesome thing we could ever imagine and we would request it all the time (even if it rarely appeared). We were so addicted to the idea of fluffy, light chocolate that we’d sneak those tubs of the supermarket version into the trolley when Mum looked away. If she didn’t see them earlier, when you got to the checkout I reckon you had a fifty percent chance of taking one home, depending on whether she thought it was cute or annoying that you’d slipped one in. If you’d been lucky, you’d eat it on the couch at home real slowly with a teaspoon while watching Ren & Stimpy and there was nothing better.


I thought of this the other day when I was in the mood for chocolate. And I realised that it had been a long, long time since I’d eaten any kind of chocolate mousse – especially the real, rich and deadly French stuff. So, of course, I made some. And it was divine! This intense and full-flavoured dessert is not something I could eat too often, but if it’s been a while, that first spoonful leaves you wondering if there’s anything better.

As you might imagine, its success relies heavily on the quality of the chocolate you use. For this, I like something about 60% cocoa (bittersweet), but if you are more of a 70% and up kinda kid, I say go for it. Just remember that the addition of alcohol makes the flavour a bit more intense. Needless to say, Anthony Bourdain wasn’t rushing to stick a maraschino cherry on top of his version, but, as you might imagine, I was. Oh well, chacun sa route.

Grown-up Chocolate Mousse
Adapted from Anthony Bourdain’s Les Halles Cookbook
Makes 6 small, but rich servings

170g good-quality dark chocolate
60 ml brandy (or Grand Marnier, if you have it=yum)
60g butter
4 eggs, separated
2 tbsp sugar
½ cup heavy cream
Maraschino cherry to garnish

Place chopped or broken chocolate in a bowl over a saucepan of simmering water to melt. Stir as you go so that chocolate doesn’t burn. When completely melted, whisk in brandy and butter, bit by bit, until it has melted and the whole lot looks glossy and good enough to stick your finger in. Don’t though – it’s very hot. Whisk in the egg yolks, one by one.

In a clean bowl, whip the eggwhites until they form soft peaks, adding the sugar a sprinkle at a time. Whisk about a quarter of this mixture into the chocolate, then gently, gently fold in the remaining.

In a separate bowl, whip the cream until it holds soft peaks, then add to chocolate mixture and fold in. Gently transfer the mousse to a large serving bowl, or pipe into glasses for individual serves, as above. Refrigerate for at least 2 hours. Serve with extra cream, a mint garnish, a maraschino cherry – or all of the above.