Beer, Mustard, and Cheddar Bread

This is probably not the best way to begin a post, but I was recently hit hard with Norovirus, a nasty stomach bug that put me out for a few days. I spent a lot of time in the bathroom and my smartest move on the whole weekend leaving the garbage can at my bedside. I even took a day off work, something I haven't done in two years. In my sleepy, feverish state, I tried to recall what I could have possibly eaten that could have caused such a violent reaction, only when I shared horror stories with my coworker did I realize I must have picked up the virus from work.

As I recovered in bed, lamenting over my sore back, I even thought of summoning up the energy to bake something sweet. That was wishful thinking. Maybe later this week when I'm feeling 110% better. Instead, I have this beautiful bread to share. It's got a load of heat that will linger in your mouth, so be sure to have some water nearby (I love spicy food, so this bread is right up my alley). It's messy to make and the beer isn't pronounced, but it's totally worth the fluffy, cheesy goodness. Now that my appetite has returned, I could go for another slice of this toasted with a slather of butter.

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Coconut Bread

I feel guilty for how much I've ignored my blog. My dad came to visit from overseas so I was busy spending time with him. My parents taught Jacques, my boyfriend, how to play mahjong (not the computer game) the real deal, using tiles engraved with various shapes and colours. A week later, I went to see Kings of Leon in concert with my girlfriends (featuring Gary Clark Jr., who is frequently on repeat on my Ipod) and spent the following days belting out this song.

I haven’t baked much lately, but I did cook for my family. I made lasagna and layered fresh pasta sheets with white sauce and meat sauce simmered with plenty of wine and topped with mozzarella so that after 30 minutes of oven time, the edges were crispy and just a couple of minutes away from being burnt. It was perfect. The insides were squidgy and the flavours melded together. What a difference fresh pasta makes! Lasagna-epiphany never felt so good!

On another night, I made pavlovas, something I've been meaning to make for a year or so. I folded in dark chocolate chunks into whipped egg whites and sugar and before serving, laid slices of fresh pears and generous scoops of ice cream. We all dived into them, quiet and eager to stuff our faces with crisp and pillowy goodness.

I also went to a Fabulicious lunch. It’s an event where wineries in the Niagara area get to show off their culinary talents with meals at a set price. My mom and Jacques arrived at Peller Estates an hour late but they were thankfully accommodating. 

There was arugula salad with quail, pan-fried salmon with curried butternut squash, wild boar panini, duck confit with truffled fettuccine carbonara and of course, the best part was when we shared our desserts: sticky toffee pudding with oatmeal ice cream, cranberry and apple crumble, and the best one of all: chocolate cream pie with macerated cherries. I wish I had worn my stretchy pants.

As if all that food wasn't enough, I still felt like eating something sweet. I wanted to make something simple, with the preparation done in less than 20 minutes. I had my eye on this recipe from Smitten Kitchen in a while and it looked doable for my lazy mood. You really can't go wrong with the mixture of toasted coconut, sugar, browned butter, just thinking about it makes my mouth water. This bread can be mixed by hand and comes together easily, I reduced the amount of sugar a little and it turned out fine. Like Deb describes, it has a drier crumb than banana bread and is just as good. You can add nuts, grate citrus fruit into the batter, add chocolate chips, whatever suits your fancy. I like it plain, toasted with Speculoos. 

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Recipe here!

Acorn Squash Loaf with Streusel Topping

I’m not proud of this loaf. For days it was left untouched on the counter, still nestled in the loaf pan, bundled in parchment paper. It was a beautiful thing the moment I took it out from the oven, a golden sparkly masterpiece, but as it cooled, its spine caved in like an ugly, oblong crater. Even its taste, to me, was lackluster. It lacked that oomph, that spark, that oooh lala! that makes it irresistible to share. 

The recipe was intriguing, it required you to shred raw squash into the batter, something I haven’t heard of and was eager to try. But unless you’re gung-ho about tediously peeling the damn ridges of a squash, don’t bother. Raw squash just isn't the same as it is roasted. Instead, this loaf would have win more popular votes if it included roasted squash to reap its maximum flavor, I'd also double the amount of spices for an extra wallop of flavor. 

The best part of this squash loaf is the streusel topping. It’s not only pretty to look at, but the delicate crumbs add a sweet, grainy texture, giving the loaf just a whisper of sweetness. I wrapped up two thick slices in tin foil for a dear friend who ate them as if he had been on a deserted island for days, exchanging only a few words in between hungry bites, which I take as a good sign. It actually isn't too bad, in fact, I think they would taste even better smeared with peanut butter or if you got it, Speculoos.

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Olive Spelt Foccacia

One of my favorite places when I lived in Montreal was a bakery called Premiere Moisson. I loved gazing at the perfectly shaped croissants and the chocolatines, flaky beauties with a sliver of dark chocolate that oozed out in each greedy mouthful. There was a huge selection of breads to choose from, including hearty loaves of spelt, whole wheat, sourdough, flaxseed, plus slender multiseed baguettes and walnut loaves (one of my favourites), plenty of bread to put you in a decision-making-frenzy. If I had enough stomach space, I’d buy them all and eat like a queen.

 
The breads that always caught my attention were the foccacias: bacon and cheese, the sundried tomato, and of course, olive foccacia. Dark purple bits of briney fruit studded in the large, oval bread always makes me swoon (I’m easily smitten, can’t you see?). When I’m in the mood to splurge $4.50 on foccacia that I can finish in less than three days, I do, but other days, I’m much more inclined on making my own. Besides, homemade bread is immensely satisfying.

I was hesitant at how this would turn out since I used half all-purpose flour and half spelt flour, but it worked out perfectly, in fact, the best part was mixing the dough in my stand mixer which can be described in one word: easy! (if you don’t have a mixer, using your hands works too, it’s just messier).

There’s plenty of olive oil in the bread, making it moister than other foccacias I’ve made. The dough is prepared a day before baking and allowed to rise in the fridge overnight, it’s not necessary, but it strengthens the olive oil’s floral flavour. I’m also a kalamata olive-kinda girl. I find them sweeter and more tolerable than their green counterpart, though you’re free to choose whatever variety you prefer. The best part is within minutes this goes into the oven, a deep, intoxicating scent of salt, olive oil and wheat takes over, nearly stopping you from doing anything else.

Next time, I’d make this for a big dinner party and split it with friends, there’s something about fresh bread that is very homey and forgiving. Whenever I make bread at home, I always wonder why I don’t do this more often and once you try this focaccia, you will wonder too.

**By the way, I've joined Instagram! You can follow me at @ButteredupJL

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Peter Reinhart's Bagels

Back in January this year, when fireworks lit up the midnight sky with sparks of color to ring in the New Year, I was staying at the Hilton by Niagara Falls with my parents and a girlfriend. We had a huge dinner at the hotel, stuffing our faces with pastas and pizzas and garlic bread. Then we spent the rest of the night in our suite playing poker and drinking ice wine, and when sleepiness set in, we bid each other good night and crawled into our plush king sized beds. 

I was just slipping into REM sleep when I was startled by eardrum-blasting fire alarms. My eyes flew open in panic, I jumped out of bed, pulled on my jeans and wool coat, zipped up my boots with my friend just one shoe behind me. My parents awoke, still in their pajamas, blearily eyed and irritated. Finally, a voice boomed over the PA system advising guests to stay put while the fire department investigated the situation. We paced the room, poked our heads into the hallway, to see what other guests were up to, but they seemed just as oblivious as we were. At this point, the alarms were still ringing at full blast and continued to do so for twenty painful minutes.

Before long, the same voice announced it was just a false alarm. What a lovely way to spend the New Year’s, sitting at the foot my bed, arms crossed over my chest, fuming at my disturbed sleep because some retard drunk moron asswipe decided it would be fun to wake up the entire hotel.

So you can imagine my utter dislike for smoke alarms. In fact, when I made these bagels, they set off the smoke alarm leading me to call them a whole slew of nasty names. The moment I opened the oven to rotate the baking sheet, the alarm burst at full force, I dashed to unlock the balcony door which thankfully, helped dissipate the smoke (my gut told me not to set the oven at 500°F, but I was adamant about following this recipe) and the alarm shut off. 

Minor cardiac arrest aside, these are ridiculously good bagels. They are crispy and golden on the outside, dense and sesamey on the inside. They are what perfection tastes like. It was an epiphany for me, the simplicity of only five ingredients and the magical thing that time does to create crusty, chewy bagels. They sit comfortably in the fridge overnight to stretch out the fermentation process and help bring out the subtle flavours in wheat, so I was excited, exhilarated even, to start my day baking. The smells of warm flour and yeast comingled, filling my home with an aroma not unlike a boulangerie. 

They are not as good as Fairmount Bagels (which are seriously life changing bagels, hello? It’s open 24 hours! And nothing can compare to a 2am post-party bagel feast spent with friends to help soak up the liquor running through my veins). These bagels are not even close, but they bring back such dear memories of me hugging a paper bag filled with a dozen fresh sesame bagels so warm, they are not only smelled amazing, but doubled as a furnace which is quite handy, since the Montreal winters can be brutal. 

I ate two bagels in one sitting and fought the urge to inhale another. They need nothing else but salted butter smeared on top, they might even be worth setting off the smoke alarm (but try not to call them names, this one bagel gave me the finger).

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Recipe here!

Banana Bread with Chocolate and Crystallized Ginger

One of my favorite things about baking isn't the methodical measuring and mixing of ingredients, nor is it the pouring of thick, glossy batter into a greased pan, but the sharing of the goods. As I wrap them in foil to give away to friends, I imagine how their lips turn upwards into a smile, how their eyes flash with excitement, how some people unfurl the cookie wrapping and without missing a beat, stuff it into their mouths, complimenting me mid-crunch, followed by a cascade of crumbs.

My mom falls in the latter category. If I made cake, she will declare it the best thing she ever ate, without even biting into it. She will wield her fork not at one slice, but at two slices of cake, demanding a glass of milk to wash it down.


With equal authority, mom will push me to make banana bread. There's always a familiar pattern, beginning with her incessant scolding. First goes: Eat the bananas! They're going bad! Then: why aren't you eating them? Are you saving them for something else? And finally: For goodness sakes, the bananas are moldy, make banana bread now!

And I thought I was impatient. Sometimes I wonder if my mom intentionally buys a superfluous amount of bananas.

I've discovered a new banana bread recipe, though not really “new” per se, as I've dog-earred Molly's recipe for years now and just baked it last week. But I hope you agree that you can never be short of banana bread recipes in your arsenal.


This stands out from other banana breads in its addition of ginger. Crystallized ginger. Chopped bits of the spicy root popping in each bite, its sharpness mellowed by bittersweet chocolate.

I replaced some of the all-purpose flour with whole-wheat flour, favoring it's nuttiness and to trick myself into believing it would be more wholesome. Oh baby, was this banana bread good. My mom had two generous pieces in one sitting. I've been eating it everyday, in fact, I just had it as a post-lunch snack.


I urge you, with a little less anger than my mom used, to go use up that pile of freckled and mushy fruit, still conjoined by their wrinkly stem, its funk permeating all corners of the kitchen. Overripe bananas begged to be married with chocolate and ginger, and promptly introduced to your friends.

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Ridiculously Rich Ricotta

Homemade ricotta is a dream. Its silky and luscious texture slicks down your tongue, leaving nothing but the richness of dairy. This morning, I spread it on toast drizzled with honey and I dare say it was the best breakfast I’ve eaten in a while.

I first tried ricotta in Montreal. This cheese is a rare find in Shanghai, where I spent most of my life growing up, and if it is sold, it’s too expensive. Montreal (sigh) was like the start of a fun musical where the velvet curtain yanks open, revealing colourful spotlights from every direction and the actors bring you to a world far far away from reality. Living there opened my eyes to so many things, including cheese (Montreal is still my Happy Place, though in the winter, there are no blinding spotlights, just freezing winters).


I don’t recall exactly when I first used ricotta, though I’m sure it was in some pasta dish, like lasagna. I also loved that subtle flavour from plain store-bought ricotta and bought it once in a while to spread on slices of baguette topped with figs or jam. It was my little indulgence.

So my mind boggled when I read Smitten Kitchen’s mad easy recipe for homemade ricotta. Anyone can make this. Even a monkey.

And then last night, I made this ridiculously rich ricotta and now my life has changed. I’m not kidding. In fact, I’m warning you that if when you make this, you will never ever want to buy commercial brand ricotta again. You will scoff at the plastic containers idly waiting for their fate in supermarkets. They're nothing--I repeat, nothing compared to homemade ricotta.


All you need to do is boil whole milk and heavy cream, add lemon juice, let it sit and do its curdling magic, then separate it in a colander lined with cheesecloth. Go do some core exercises (like I did, to uh…better prepare me for the good things to come) and after a hour or so, you will have silky cheese in your hands. I stored my cheese in the fridge and in the morning, it thickened to the consistency of cream cheese. The acidity from the lemon juice gives the ricotta a mild tang, the dairy is unbelievably refreshing, almost floral.



The ricotta is amazzzzing on bread. On carrot sticks. On cucumber slices. On raw peppers. I bet it would even be good if eaten off the floor (but it’s not recommended). Depending on what you’re feeling, try it on bread with some olive oil and balsamic vinegar or with slices of fresh peaches, I’m sure that would be divine. Whatever you eat it with, rest assured you will have a cheese so smooth, so creamy, all you can think is: Where have you been all my life?

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Recipe here!

Bread with Chocolate and Olive Oil

Long ago, I was part of the varsity tennis team in high school, which granted us privilege to skip school, visit other countries (the most exotic was the Phillippines), and spend a week playing tennis games. Being part of any varsity sport was exciting and special, it was like being given liquid gold.

The team had five girls and every year, we got along splendidly. During the day, we eyed handsome boys from other schools and we cursed under our breaths at the opposing players. At night, we were paired with a fellow team member and stayed with “host families” who became our temporarily care takers.

I was barely a foodie back then, my knowledge of cooking consisted of instant noodles (oh, the shame) and scrambled eggs, I ate whatever my mom planned or whatever tasted familiar. My favorite breakfast was peanut butter on toast with sliced bananas. The Japanese family I was stayed with have never seen this combination of ingredients, but they were kind and smiled politely, ensuring that I was well fed.

When I returned to the guest bedroom to prepare my bag for the day, I found my roommate dressed in our red and blue tennis uniform, sitting on the edge of her bed eating. She unfurled squares of chocolate and wrapped them with white bread, munching quietly with the blinds still closed. They weren't just any chocolate, but the Côte d'Or Mignonnettes, glossy tablets with an elephant mold in the centre.


I was assigned to stay with her again for another tournament, this time we were in Beijing and the host family was German (the father moved to China for work and brought along his wife and children). Our breakfast spread could rival the royal family. Jams, butter, cream cheese, three types of bread, yogurt, milk, juices, a generous selection of tea crowded the table, and then there was the box of chocolate sprinkles. After spreading her toast with butter, my roommate held the white box high above her plate and designed an even layer of decorative chocolate on her bread. Did I mention she was European?

It shocked me that chocolate and bread could constitute a healthy breakfast, let alone a meal that was supposed to provide energy for hour-long matches. Still, she gracefully won her games, helping us win the trophy that year, her breakfast didn't have anything to do with her tennis skills, she was just a great player.



Chocolate and bread have long been recognized as a couple, from nutella to pain au chocolat, it's ubiquitous in Europe and I think it's just starting to gain more popularity on this side of the Atlantic. I think we should start a trend.

This recipe is from Matt Bittman, adapted from Ferrian Adria of El Bulli who serves this as dessert to his staff as part of the staff meals. It's as easy as pie: grate dark chocolate on warm bread, drizzle with olive oil and add a dash of sea salt. What you get is a spruced up version of nutella on bread. The chocolate melts into the little pores of the bread, the oil brings out the flavor of the roasted cocoa beans and then you catch a faint breeze of its floral notes and finally, the salt gives it that final touch, binding salty and sweet. I made this twice this weekend, I'm thinking of making it tomorrow, and again and again.


I can't guarantee this will win you any awards, but if you make this for your special someone, it might just score you something big.

If you're still hungry, you can read my featured blog entry for My Food Geek about some very sweet scones.

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Lemon Pull-Apart Bread

Summer has arrived rather late this year. Last month, Toronto has gotten a lot of rain, random thunderstorms, cloudy days, even hail fell from the sky (golf ball sized ice cubes!). I've been performing several rituals to make summer arrive faster, including gulping down papaya lassis, sipping on strawberry milkshakes, and feasting on watermelon slices...apparently these are not scientifically proven methods.


Only after midsommar, the official start of summer, has the sun decided to come out and play. Let's hear it for bikini weather, for shirtless jogging men, for big scoops of ice cream, and for backyard barbeques!

Some folks may retreat from the kitchen at this time of the year, but I switch on the oven and bake.



I revel in having my arms elbow deep in flour, kneading and shaping dough, stirring batter, zesting fruit, yanking open a hot oven to bake a gratin, or whatever suits my fancy. I don't mind the heat. Then again, I spent almost a decade in Shanghai, where the summers can climb up to 39°F and I still play tennis outside. Heat and humidity doesn't bother me, lightning and thunder does.



There's been a little hype of this lemon pull-apart bread in the blog world. The recipe is originally from Leite's Culinaria and then experimented by Hungry Girl por Vida and Joy the Baker who tried a cinnamon sugar version, I stuck with the lemon version because I can never say no to citrus flavored anything.


The bread is fun to make. The only sad thing was the absence of an orchestra, tap dancing or fireworks when I took it out from the oven, because it really deserved a grand welcome.

It's a beautiful bread, caramelized layers emerge from the loaf pan, liquid sugar drips onto the parchment paper, and lemony smells waft the apartment. I skipped cooling the bread (why would anyone bother waiting?), peeled off a slice and popped it into my mouth. Sugar crystals dissolved on my tongue like candy, yielding soft bread with a big punch of citrus. It even makes Monday mornings bearable.

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Recipe here!