The Serial-Blogger Who Never Blogs

Fine. I'll admit it: I am probably the laziest blogger in the entire world...who doesn't give up on blogging. I assume most people who blog, blog frequently and those who only blog once in several many full moons (ahem, like myself) would just give up on blogging all together, admit defeat and realise that it was a lost cause. Nope, not me. I pop by every so often to reassure myself that I am not a give-upper and that I do care about all my blog-babies. (Thank goodness, these blogs aren't real children.)

Just had my 20-something-th birthday this weekend and it is time to turn over yet another new leaf. I am aware that I begin to run out of leaves to turn but this year is a year of optimism. I feel it. It is in the air. I am setting realistic, achievable goals for myself from now on. It is time to be a real adult and accomplish what I set out to do. The goal is ...drumroll please... to blog at least once a week. I will be working 40 to 50-hour weeks in a restaurant, taking on random clusters of 10 to 14-hour shifts. I am most certain that I will have something to discover and share about the food and beverage industry on a weekly basis. :)

Recently I discovered Michael Ruhlman's ratio chart of doughs and batters. Chow.com did a Q&A with Mr. Ruhlman back in 2009 (which was when the book was published) and he oh-so-graciously allowed them to publish the chart online. I can only assume that it's a snippet of what is in his full-sized work Ratio: The Simple Codes Behind the Craft of Everyday Cooking. It is interesting to think of cooking and baking in such a rational way. As he also mentioned in the interview, I see how it can be helpful to beginners out there, mostly in reducing the stress of getting things 'just right' in the kitchen. In essentials, I agree. If the dough doesn't work out, instead of worrying about the more technical aspects like room temperature or the way you might be kneading the dough for example, it is much easier for newcomers to fiddle with their flour-to-water ratio. Even a skilled baker will concur that ratio is not something you can mess up, though chefs might have different things to say about it, especially ones who like that creative flair in the kitchen.

Just for good measure though, I will print it out and tack in on a wall in my kitchen as a reassurance that if anything fails, it is not me but how I am reading my cooking scale. The next time I'm in a book store, I will see what other formulae Mr. Ruhlman put in the rest of his book.

Phyllo Log with Caramelized Apples

Probably the best advice that I can give is to not choose the wrong phyllo dough recipe. That sounds unbelievably simple (and yes, I'll admit it, slightly anti-climatic) but it's the dead honest truth.

Phyllo dough is not difficult to make. There must be some conspiracy out there trying to embed the concept into women's minds that making homemade phyllo dough may be the most strenuously terrifying experience (aside from childbirth I'm speculating) that they could possibly put themselves through. Yet women will have no hesitation spending hours and numerous you-had-better-spent-them-on-a-treadmill calories making three-tier chocolate cakes and 15-pound turkeys. Even lasagne takes more time and effort to make.

The second and almost-just-as-important advice is: When you think it's thin enough, it could probably be thinner. Yeah you will never be able to roll out the dough to factory-machinery thinness but you can sure try. And it will be worth it.

The third advice, work fast and with smaller chunks of dough. You don't want to phyllo to start drying up. Smaller chunks will allow you to push out the dough thinner without running out of room on your board.

Conclusion? Do not pick a recipe that calls for butter or lard-related substances in the dough. It's ok if you brush it on after, that's what you're supposed to do. No eggs either. Neither made a huge difference in the end result tastewise or texture wise and if it's not needed, why add the extra fat? Also, don't forget, keep rolling and be quick!

Oh a word of caution, not advice, just words from a klutzy me. Don't be an idiot and think that your (little) flour well/mountain/hole that you'd made can hold in ALL the liquid that you're about to pour into the centre. Chances are, the liquid will bulldoze its way through the flour and spill all over your kitchen countertop. Use a bowl or add the liquid a little bit at a time.

I will be trying a new recipe which only calls for flour, vinegar, olive oil, lemon juice and hot, hot water. Much healthier.

Stick it to...

Why do I do these things to myself? If you read my new upcoming challenge, you'd probably think the same thing. Yes, I'm planning on making my own phyllo dough and sheets. Just typing about the challenge makes me palpitate. Why can't I be like any other normal person and pick up a pack of premade frozen ones from the closest supermarket? Why do I find kneading and rolling and re-kneading and re-rolling out pastry until they are tissue paper thin actually exciting?

I just don't trust it. "It" being "The Man".
What does he put in my phyllo dough? I don't know. 
Can I ever trust "The Man" to look out for me? Most likely not. 
Why does "The Man" deceive me to believing that a cute, squeaky white dough boy with a fake bellybutton is in charge of overseeing the production of my premade baking products or that frozen dinners are actually made with my lifestyle in their mind? To rob me of my money and health.
This is the same reason why I make my own pie crust and almost everything from scratch if I possibly can (within the limits of my present kitchen - ie: my mother). "The Man" is out there. Fellow health-lovers, agree with me, we must not give in...

So begins my new challenge.

Le Fromage Bleu

Zak left some blue cheese in my fridge last night and then fled to Cambridge. Now what? I am not a big fan of the smelly cheese but I cannot possibly throw it out - I will never hear the end of it - "How could you? Blue Cheese is my favourite!!!" Ok, everyone, settle down. The most obvious solution: look up a recipe that I can discreetly sneak the blue cheese into yet somehow still practice working on the pastry dough challenge.


So as I greedily stuffed myself with leftovers scavenged from the refrigerator (a slice of spinach & cheese quiche with a side of beef stew in red tomato sauce),

I began blogging and searching for the ultimate blue cheese recipe. Then I found this: Almond Blue Cheese Fritters. Blue cheese, check. Pastry dough, check. Almonds, check. It's going to be deep-fried and crispy, check and check. The cheese, although, isn't exactly discreet. Oh well, you can't have everything in life.


This is a no-roll pie crust recipe that I found from Joy the Baker's blog. It does not use shortening, just good ol' unsalted butter, vegetable oil and one tablespoon of light cream cheese. I also used olive oil instead of vegetable oil. It turned out super flaky and tasted quite buttery. The only down side is that this crust can't be rolled out so I could not use it for a top crust, only bottom. 

I added some extra ingredients to the chopped almonds and blue cheese: chopped cashews, haw flakes, ground cinnamon and a splash of heavy cream. Basically everything I could find in the house that might distract from the blue cheese.

Voila! The pastry dough turned out excellent but I just was not able to eat these fritters! The pungent taste of the blue cheese made me really nauseous. I only fried three and froze the rest. I'll definitely use the pastry again though!