Chocolate Souffle

Every food post has a little story to go with it. Except this one. I wanted to make chocolate souffle, so came home and did.

I'd spotted Jules' posting of Guillaume Brahimi's chocolate souffle during the day, and it had me swooning. The recipe has an easy yolk/white ratio, and no cornstarch, which I don't like to use unless necessary. The souffle is just what I love in a souffle - a meeting point of unctuous chocolate goodness and fluffy lightness. It's chocolatey but not too sweet so a pour of sauce or scoop of icecream on the side would work really well. And it's after-work easy. I did them in my Bodum double wall glasses which look so good (but forgot to smooth the top, hence the bumps).

Chocolate Souffle, recipe from Guillaume Brahimi, thanks to The Stone Soup, serves 4
150g dark chocolate
1/2 C milk
1/2 C caster sugar
3 egg yolks, lightly whisked
4 egg whites
Pinch salt
Pinch cream of tartar
Butter for greasing, extra caster sugar for dusting

Preheat oven to 180C. Grease 4 ramekins with butter and sprinkle with caster sugar, tipping out excess sugar. Break chocolate into small chunks and place in a bowl over a saucepan of simmering water, ensuring that the water does not touch the base of the bowl. Allow chocolate to melt gently. When almost melted remove from heat and stir, allowing the residual heat to melt the remaining chocolate. Stir through cold milk. Combine yolks and sugar and stir through chocolate.
Beat egg whites until frothy and add salt and cream of tartar. Continue to whisk until firm peaks form. Stir a tablespoon of egg white through the chocolate mix to lighten it then gently fold through remaining whites.
Gently divide the mix between the 4 prepared dishes and wrap each with a collar of baking paper that stands at least 4cm above the rim of the dish. Tie with string. Place dishes on a baking tray and bake for 25 - 30mins or until soufflés are risen and the top looks cooked through.

I Do My Best Thinking In The Shower

I love showers. I'm sorry that I don't care about water restrictions but it's one of my favourite of life's simple pleasures - hot hot water and exhausting it till the very last drop.

I do all my best thinking in the shower - thoughts that disappear and seem irrelevant as soon as I step out and do the routine: apply my beloved Clarins Beauty Flash Balm and slip on Philosophy's Gingerbread Souffle (which neither smells like gingerbread or has a souffle consistency, but is gentle enough on my hyper sensitive skin).

Thoughts like, I really should buy that photograph for $360; then I have the conversation in French with the photographer - a wonderful conversation that starts off with "oui je parle francais mais je suis trop timide" and ends in best friendship; beautiful soaps really do make good housewarming presents; but why should I not treat myself and just use beautiful soaps all the time, like The Body Shop's coconut soap (of course I forget this thought, standing in front of the soap aisle at the supermarket, and grab a box of whatever that's cheap and cheerful but bland); I must read some more Sartre; what can I wear tomorrow; I can't wait to sunbake when it gets warmer - I really will use SPF30+ this year, and every day; how do you make Thai food taste exactly like Thai takeaway, especially those flat wide noodles I love; how jealous is the average person in a relationship...

A Weekend And A Masterchef Challenge

On Sunday at lunchtime I was sitting in shorts, tunic top and ropey sandals, looking out the window at the blue sky, and had already had a wonderful weekend...

Saturday I bought fresh bagels and flowers in Bondi, and had a very relaxing lunch for grandma's birthday on Kath's new deck overlooking the water. The seafood was especially amazing - meaty prawns, melting tuna sashimi, clean, luscious oysters - and everyone chatty and happy.

Then it was home to scrub up and head out to Manly, for part one of the Masterchef Challenge. A did an amazing job with his two courses, absolute restaurant quality. The main was perfectly seared duck, with a blueberry jus, potato bake and wilted baby spinach. Make you want to eat duck every day. Dessert was a picture-perfect rhubarb souffle, fluffy and warming, with baked custard (two serves for me please), vanilla icecream and sauteed rhubarb. Wow. The pressure is now on me for part two, in two weeks' time.

It was a lovely evening, great wine and company and I love his new digs. He's done well and I'm happy for him. In the morning we walked down to the aquarium with his neighbour for breakfast, the water sparkling and everyone gaga at this weather. Breakfast was generous and delicious.

So at Sunday lunchtime I was sitting in one of my fave outfits and wishing the weekend would never end. Instead, D came over and we spent the day being outrageous, enjoying divine Turkish, lots of wine, watching Melrose Place season one, late-night snacking on Indian, and calling Jonathon. That phone call was one of the most surreal, brilliant moments that fit in seamlessly with our adventures. Hearing Jonathon say so calmy "I love you too" was a classic instant.

So, now it is time for less eating.

I Must've Done Something Good

To deserve such family and friends. Have just come home from a stunning BBQ at Jo's with the most wonderful surprise - birthday cake complete with candles (Happy Birthday Julia Gulia) and amazing present, the SATC overnight package. Wow. Double wow. To say I was shocked would be underestimating it - I was blown away. Thank you so much Jo, Wally, Charley, Yvette, Leonie and Dani (sick).

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Driving over pulled over for RBT, didn't have license on me so the cop took down my details and reprimanded me, then told me I made his day. "Oh god what did I do?" "You haven't done anything. It's you". Impressive! If only he was a babe it would have made a great "how did we meet story" to tell people.

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Dinner last night at Bistro Moncur was wonderful, if not shadowed by Natalie's that-afternoon redundancy. The most creamy, gorgeous French onion souffle followed by perfectly seared calves' liver with gnocchi parisienne and a plump cherry glaze. It was so good and yet a shock to the system, the richness and size of the dishes made me nauseous and all I wanted was to run home and tuck myself into bed. Which I did. It's my birthday and I can do just that.

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Today's serendipitous lunch at Pilu - tomorrow.

Cooking Up A Storm

First, a swim at Bronte after work on Friday afternoon. Glo-ri-ous. Then Saturday morning up finally after a sleeping pill for much-needed restful, non-jaw-grinding sleep and on to my adored Fratelli Fresh. God I love this place. You pull straight in and pick up the best fruit and vegies available in Sydney, for the same price as the supermarket. My car was smelling delicious with all the fresh basil, nectarines, tomatoes, peaches...Next was the Fish Markets for plump fresh mussels and some crab meat (managed to track down a tub of fresh, not frozen crab, from Indonesia - I'm not hand-picking a whole crab, not for dinner for two, not for Freddie Ljungberg). And then home for an afternoon of cooking, with Sex and the City in the background. There are worse ways to spend an afternoon, even in the heat, even with the fan off because it kept blowing out the gas. On the menu for the evening, three courses from Damien Pignolet's, french. Salad of potatoes, mussels, fennel with saffron-infused vinagerette; crab souffle; almond milk granita with crisp apples. I figure in the summer, and if you're hoping for some after-dinner action, you want to end the meal on a light note, as opposed to light entree-heavier main-substantial dessert. You want to start with full flavours, and work your way down. And it was a winning idea. Everything was sensational. And everything was ready and I was calm by the time he arrived (with beautiful red irises, I was hoping for flowers). The stand-out was the almond milk granita, because it's so delicious and so easy to make and so impressive. Voila the recipe (serves 2) (sorry, no photos, I forgot):

50g sugar
50mL water
125g blanched almonds (the recipe calls for about 250g, but because blanched almonds cost an arm and a leg, I hoped I could get away with half, and I did - it was just as flavoursome).
200mL milk
100mL water
1 apple
50g sugar
50mL water
Squeeze of lemon juice

Melt the sugar in the 50mL water over low heat. Let it cool. Process the almonds with the milk and water in a bzzsh/food processor until granular but smooth. Place the mixture in a muslin cloth (I'd say a clean tea towel could do the trick as well) and squeeze over a large bowl. (You can either do this straight after processing or leave it for 10 minutes to let the milk infused with the almonds). Mix the sugar syrup into the almond milk and place in the freezer. Every 20 minutes break up the mixture with a fork - you want to create fluffy crystals and if you leave it it will freeze into one solid mass.
In the meantime, preheat the oven to 90C and line a baking dish with baking paper. Melt the sugar in the water and let cool, then squeeze in some lemon juice. Very thinly slice the apple into 3mm-thick circles. Dip the apple slices into the sugar syrup, draining any excess liquid, and place on the baking paper. Bake for 20 minutes on each side (but watch them, you want them to go pale golden and crispy and not burn). You can make a batch and keep them in an airtight container, they're so delicious.
The granita will take several hours to freeze properly, but once ready, spoon into martini glasses (or any other lovely glasses/bowls) and serve with a few apple slices placed into the granita on the side.

We then played "21" with tequila and sexual favours and had a fun night, but something was off. Maybe I watched too much Carrie during the day but I was channeling her inquiete (is there a proper equivalent in English?). I think I need some time on my own. However that will happen.

Sunday was the Australia Day picnic with the girls, of which two showed up. More cooking yielded frittata and mini pavlovas (which a bird pood on). We need to invest in our female relationships and I hope others realise that too. The weekend ended with the men's final of the Australian Open. Such a good game, and I cried with Roger.

In The Mood For Cooking

Except I don't. My little open plan kitchen doesn't inspire me to cook, or maybe it's the cooking for one, or maybe - highly likely - it's my laziness. Laziness coupled with too many cheap eat options living in the inner city. This week has been Chinese, Vietnamese, pasta, cocktails, Thai.

But last night I got in bed with Damien Pignolet's french, my Christmas present from A. It's a beautiful cookbook, with unpretentious photos and intimidating recipes. I set out to mentally plan a three course dinner for us à la 'thank you for the book, look I've put it to good use'. Couldn't find anything that I could whip up on a Saturday afternoon without a sweat and an anxiety attack, so I went to sleep annoyed (and let down at myself - I used to relish cooking).

Now I am at Chocolate & Zucchini, lusting after her Carbonades Flamandes, and feel inspired again. Perhaps Damien's duck liver parfait, and I'm not too shabby with a souffle (the Valrohna chocolate one looks sexy), so my faith is restored.

Relookage's Gift Guide 2005

Because I am here to help. And it's a month until Christmas.

For yourself: Anything from MAC; a good haircut; Mariage Freres tea or Fairtrade coffee; a bottle of Moet for when the madness subsides and you can drink it in the bath.
For mum: Ridiculously expensive body cream, a la Laura Mercier's Creme Brulee Souffle Body Creme; replace any CDs or books that have gone missing; afternoon tea at the swishest hotel in your city; gift vouchers for the local car wash so she doesn't break her back doing it herself (make sure it has a cafe so she can sit back with a coffee and the paper).
For dad: Good towels; a kick-arse bottle of his favourite tipple - with matching glasses; a goat, immunisation or eye surgery for a village in a poor country (Oxfam, World Vision et al arrange it and send you a giftcard).
For your sister: Facial/mani/pedi/something pampering - look, everyone does it but it's hard to beat; two tickets to the next outdoor cinema festival with a voucher for a picnic; earrings that match her eyes.
For your brother: A dozen gourmet beers with nuts and chips; a smart polo; his favourite childhood DVDs.
For grandparents: Beautiful frame with photo of you/the whole family; posh tea and tea cake.
For your best friend: Have you been paying attention? They've probably dropped hints or whined about something they'd love all year. And if you still have no idea? A beautiful coffee table book; poker lessons; their favourite travel photo framed.
For your pet: A big walk followed by a good brushing; the Ralph Lauren polo shirt (I still think this is the most adorable thing ever) .
For your boss (assuming you don't hate them): A good bottle of wine; an interesting holiday read; coasters.
For your boss (assuming you already have a Voodoo doll of them): Cheese and cracker hamper (provided the cheese has been sitting under your desk for 24 hours).
For your favourite deli server/post office assistant/pilates teacher/landlord: A small box of panettone in the prettiest box you can find.
For your ex-boyfriend you're friends with again: Ah...
Last-minute gifts: Beach towel, Champagne, leather wallet, magazine subscription, Peugeot salt and pepper shakers.
For me: Have you checked out my Lust-Haves?

Just Say No

I say yes to these things like they're going out of fashion. The department store makeover. On a Wednesday night, and since bellydancing has finished and we kill time by considering pole dancing classes, N and I say yes to Christian Dior and dream of another glam night on the town afterwards.

To say I looked like a racoon would be cutesy and schmoopy. To say I looked like a $5 hooker would be much more on the money. When the Diorshow came out I asked for "subtle". Last time Diorshow was applied to me by someone other than myself I could barely open my eyes and my lashes were grazing my brows, a la Tammy Fay. She chastised me - yes, she did - and went ahead and coated them like my lashes were a segment on Better Homes and Garden. It was a horror story that no amount of rough toilet paper in the Myer loos (with complimentary L'Occitane hand cream) could recover.

Plans to get well and truly trashed were put aside while our tummies, depressingly taking greater precendence, were looked after. Since N and I have become a substitute couple, we thought nothing of walking into Doyle's and being seated by the window with a drop-dead romantic view over the Opera House and twinkling harbour and ordering the seafood chowder. It was very good, although more a thick bisque than a chowder (chowder means creamy goodness) and made even better with a good serving of buttery, garlicky garlic bread.

Then we sauntered over to Cruise for a bottle or red (ok, it was supposed to be for their allegedly free Champagne for the ladeez, but that finished at 7pm. Who knew?) . Lucky us the IT Geek Convention was in town so we got to be ignored by men in black trousers and navy jackets. Why is it we go ga-ga over men with taste? It should be the norm. Do they think "hell, black and navy are so similar, who'll notice? It'll be dark anyway". Buddy, we do notice. It looks cheap and nasty and it disappoints us. Tips for every man:

* Get a classic black suit, I'm thinking Armani or Zegna.
* Get a pin-striped suit that suits your personality. Pale stripes, wide clean white stripes, there is a pin-stripe for you. Dolce E Gabbana is a good place to start looking. These are so versatile and you'll look so dapper with a clean white shirt or a coloured shirt just with the trousers.
* Have them tailored. Tailored! Don't try, buy and live happily ever after. You are not the house model. Get the pants and sleeves taken up or down by a good tailor. Oh the cringe induced by a man in short trousers or long sleeves.
* Buy yourself some expensive-as-hell silk blend socks. Get them in black, navy, an elegant texture and with a stripe. Stock up at sale time.
Please, just do it. From here you can expand to your wallet's desire, but these are the fundamentals.

After the wine we were still peckish. We are pigs, and anyway we have said that after the October long weekend we are giving up all this decadence. Yes we are. So we went next door to Wildfire, and ah, had a cheese plate and ah, the coconut souffle. I highly recommend both. Two valid points were made during this part of the evening:

* We are both single so the money we would spend on sweet nothings for better halves, weekly nights out with better halves and condoms on banging better halves, can be spent on ourselves without guilt.
* We are challenging ourselves to two days of veganism. It has been pencilled in for Sunday 8 and Monday 9, October. Why? Because we have the will of gnats and both of us deplore veganism, so it will be an interesting experiment. It was either that or carb-free and both are as bad as each other. No pasta or no brie...don't make me decide. Sophie's Choice comes to mind. I look forward to reporting the joys of no juicy meat, no gooey eggs, no luscious cheese and everything else banned by this ridiculous dietary system in coming weeks. Until then, vive la decadence!