Works in progress

Over the past week, I have been asking myself why I blog. This musing was prompted by several requests for recipes that I used in my previous post. When I first began my blog and named it with the most uninspired name possible, it was purely for the selfish reason of self-expression. Having made the great leap to professional pastry from ophthalmology, I needed to document this unchartered journey to an anonymous audience who would hopefully have some interest in experiencing the transition with me, whether from the medicine or food industry point of view. These days, as I am farther removed from my old professional life, I choose to focus my blog on documenting my own creative pursuits, through pastry and photography.


I still view my pastry life through an atypical lens because, despite it being over three years since my departure from medicine, my observations are akin to those of a displaced clinician who has meandered into the midst of a pastry kitchen. More importantly, my comfort level in my new "skin" is stronger having shed some, but not all, of the insecurities which came from perceived judgement and negativity.


Consequently, my blog will probably never become a mainstream food blog, filled with recipes and group baking activities, due to a conscious decision to concentrate on what inspires me and not to follow a particular format nor be instructional. Most of the recipes which I use or adapt at home are from unpublished sources and so I do not feel at liberty to send them into cyberspace. The whole question of recipe ownership intrigues me and I have yet to find a good discussion on this topic. Does changing one gram of an ingredient make it yours?


Meanwhile, these unfinished pastel-coloured fondant garden creatures are crawling around my countertops, soon to be assembled onto a rose garden themed birthday cake for a little girl named Rose. It was an opportunity to emulate the work of the talented cake designer at CakeJournal whose style can only be described as sooooooo cute. As a detail freak and former micro-surgeon, I am certainly in my element when making tiny things look perfect!

Berries and bees

There is no purer nor more perfect food than beautiful fresh berries. Cherries are my ultimate fruit, so sweet, so explosive in flavour. I am one of those people who will, if permitted, stand for up to 20 minutes picking through a pile of cherries to choose only the most flawless firm specimens. When it comes to raspberries, these delicate jewels are so fragile yet sharp in flavour that they are my immediate choice to pair with other ingredients like chocolate. My friend and fellow pastry professional Fionna gave me these berries and I decided to use them two ways.


First, it would be tragic not to enjoy raspberries just as they are, so I paired them with some simple dark chocolate mousse which I had leftover in the freezer. Yes, you can freeze mousses and thaw them later for use but some loss of volume will occur inevitably. Second, I made a raspberry guimauve (a.k.a. marshmallow) by first making a purée and using a recipe adapted from a Derek Poirier recipe which I recently saw at a Valrhona demo. My previous guimauve experience has been using the Italian meringue guimauve method but I was pleasantly surprised at how well this cooked sugar/gelatin guimauve recipe worked.


This summer long homage to fruit that you will witness if you continue to read my blog posts is inspired by all the local fruit farmers in British Columbia who you can meet at your local farmer's market. In fact, I am looking forward to visiting the Okanagan in a few weeks to pick my own cherries!

More importantly, however, if you can not imagine life without fruit just like I can not, you need to become aware of a very serious issue concerning the plight of honeybees in North America. A recent episode of Nature on PBS called "Silence of the Bees" documents the potentially disasterous effect of a virus on honeybee colonies which could lead to an end to pollination of all flowering crops which include all the vegetables and fruits that we love. It seems inconceivable but unfortunately, this scenario is a distinct possibility without urgent intervention to help the honeybee population. Thank you to all the hardworking honeybees which make this fruit possible!

Tart nouveau

Happy Canada Day! Celebrating Canada's 141st birthday during our first and likely only heat wave of the summer, I plan to water my flowers and dust off the patio furniture today. Keeping cool is difficult in our living space, especially yesterday when the oven seemed to be on 400F the entire day. I cook large batches of lunches and dinners each Monday for consumption during the week. Yesterday, a lovely chocolate hazelnut strawberry tart was also on the menu.


I have been wanting to try Michael Laiskonis' chocolate tart dough recipe for several months now and finally stumbled upon the right opportunity when I was wondering what to do with some leftover gianduja pastry cream which had done its duty last week as my soufflé base. This time last year I was just finishing my Pan Pacific practicum and had sworn I would never make another fresh fruit tart in my life unless forced at gunpoint. No firearms were necessary, just the presence of fresh sweet strawberries and excess gianduja pastry cream reminding me that not all fruit tarts are created equal.


The tart dough is very easy to work with, containing almond powder which gives it great texture. I substituted some ground hazelnut into my almond cream recipe and piped a layer into my tart shells. Once baked and cooled, a thin layer of gianduja pastry cream was spread on top and crowned with fresh strawberries. A sprinkle of hazelnut streusel adds a little buttery crunch. Make the streusel stick by glazing the strawberries first with some melted apricot jelly, which also serves to increase the fruit's longevity.


Because of the slow start to our summer here in British Columbia, the local fruit crop has been delayed but hopefully, those gorgeous local cherries, apricots, and blueberries will soon appear at the market. I might not be succeeding on any 100 Mile Diet yet, but odds will definitely improve in the next few weeks!

Hot air

Soufflés have a bad reputation due to their notoriously fragile nature. Fearing collapse, those brave enough to attempt whipping up a soufflé have been known to avoid loud noises and even looking at this airy dessert the wrong way. But honestly, soufflés are not to be feared. In fact, soufflés are quite easy to make and as long as you are quick, organized, and cautious, these fluffy custards are impressive to serve and an excellent way to use up extra egg whites. An article in the New York Times dating back to 1908 even warns that the soufflé is "too useful a dish to be lightly condemned" and I whole-heartedly agree.


My soufflés were based on a gianduja pastry cream. In general, soufflés are made by adding whipped egg whites (a French meringue) to a base, typically a flavour-infused pastry cream or a roux. This is then baked in any straight-sided vessel, most commonly ramekins, and served immediately from the oven accompanied by a warm sauce Anglaise. One great tip that I learned from my mentor at pastry school was to brush the ramekins with clarified butter in upward vertical strokes to coat the sides, chill, then coat with sugar. This creates fine ridges which allow the baking soufflé to slide upwards. Also, after filling and leveling off the ramekin, run the tip of your thumb circumferentially along the rim (creating a small groove in the soufflé mix) in order to allow even rise of your soufflés (the above photo compares two soufflés, guess which one didn't get a good rim cleaning!). At this stage, the filled ramekins can even be frozen and baked off PRN.


Finally, soufflés should not be disturbed so once they are nestled in their water baths in the oven, the oven door must remain closed for the entire duration of baking. This is where experience helps and familiarity with your oven is key since neither poking nor peeking is permitted. Just make sure that your hungry guest is ready to eat when the soufflé is ready in order to avoid disappointment and deflation, respectively. In my case, I had to quickly drop my oven mitts, run with the soufflé to my sunny window, and grab the camera to capture maximum height before worrying about eating!

Da bombe

It has been the coldest June in recorded history here in Vancouver. My basil has died and one impatiens has mysteriously disintegrated from the copious rain. The cat has had three hairballs in the last four days and so I need to buy more carpet cleaner. Despite (or perhaps because of) these dreary events, my palate was craving vibrant summer flavours. You might remember that in my last post, I mentioned that I had forgotten to use the strawberry-lime coulis that I had made to serve with my sister's birthday cake.


In my typical frugal fashion, this coulis was quickly transformed into strawberry-lime sorbet after adding some more zest and simple syrup. Nothing could taste more like summer to me. An amaretto almond nougatine ice parfait was paired with the sorbet, for textural interest, and assembled into a frozen bombe. Underneath the dome, lime sablé breton cookie rounds gave support and buttery crispness.


I am usually painfully modest but I have to say that my frozen stawberry-lime-nougatine bombe truly is da bomb. If only it could be enjoyed barefoot on the patio with iced tea instead of indoors wearing fleece and winter socks. Summer solstice is in two days so perhaps I will get my wish soon.

Sweet air

My sister Michelle's birthday was this past week. She is perhaps the biggest bread lover I know, a connoisseur of all things spongy and composed of carbohydrate. Whenever we went to dim sum as children, my favourite items were always crispy but Michelle's were soft and spongy, her ultimate selection being Ma Lai Go, a sweet steamed sponge cake served warm in large wedges. I am still in search of a good Ma Lai Go recipe so in the meantime, I decided to make another spongy classic, angel food cake. It was also a good opportunity to use up my excess egg whites which have been haunting the refrigerator.


I could not find my angel food cake tube pan which must have wandered away during one of my multiple long distance moves so my Bundt pan was used instead. To dress up this fairly plain cake, a passionfruit Italian meringue was piped to give flavour and a more finished look. An impromtu strawberry-lime coulis was also prepared because I was afraid the cake would be too dry but surprisingly, it was quite moist and I forgot to serve the sauce anyways! Happy Birthday and I will hopefully make Ma Lai Go instead next year!

Diversion: glass

The legendary designs of Arthur Erickson and Dale Chihuly intersect at the breathtaking Museum of Glass in Tacoma, Washington. These two giants of design, each in his own medium, were featured in documentaries recently aired on television here. This prompted us to make a short weekend trip south to experience the architecture and glass exhibits at the MOG. The current exhibition features Lino Tagliapietra who is one of the world's preeminent glass artists. His work is astoundingly beautiful and fluid (no photography was allowed in the exhibition hall, but no photograph could do them justice anyways).


Connecting the MOG to the city of Tacoma is the Bridge of Glass, a 500 feet long pedestrian bridge in which three separate installations of Chihuly's work are contained. The centre of the bridge showcases the Crystal Towers, two 40 feet tall monuments created from large glacial blue sculptural crystals cast from a material called Polyvitro. They reminded me of giant blue sugar crystals. In fact, throughout my visit to the MOG, I kept wondering what would happen if a glass artist collaborated with a sugar artist? The ability of sugar to be cast, pulled, and blown to create endless forms mirrors the characteristics of glass but to a limit. Sugar has an impermanence and fragility unlike glass but their qualities in response to light and colour are alike.


Speaking of sugar, we headed to Bakery Nouveau (on the recommendation of my boss), a patisserie in West Seattle owned by William Leaman, an award-winning boulanger. As expected, there was a short line-up out the door; the unbelievable duck sandwich, croque-madame, macarons, passionfruit chocolate tart, and croissants which Eric and I shared (over a period of 24 hours, not at one meal) were simple yet superb.