Linzer Blitz Torte

I moved to Shanghai when I was eight, it took me a while to adjust to the cultural shock of crazy fast taxis, the thick smog that hung stubbornly above the city’s skyline, and people who stared at me with big, curious eyes like I was a foreign creature that dropped out of the sky. 

My dad had been living in China for a few years and didn’t want to be apart from his family anymore, so my mom and I packed up and left Toronto to settle in Shanghai. On my first night, I cried so hard my eyes swelled up, my nose ran like a waterfall, my lungs hurt from trying to stifle my bawling lest my parents heard their distraught daughter. But I couldn’t help it. I was upset, lonely, terrified, and so confused.

Soon enough however, I grew comfortable living in the busiest, noisiest, and one of the most exciting cities in China. I loved my school, my friends, even the mad taxi drivers became an important characteristic of the city. Since graduating high school in 2005, I’ve kept in touch with a small group of friends, including one friend who lives in here in Toronto and who I like to introduce with: “I’ve known her since grade six!” That’s 16 years, just two years shy of the legal drinking age in Quebec. That’s more than half my life. That’s big.

But what’s even bigger, is her recent good news, news that prompted me to scream in my seat when I received her text message followed by an immediate phone call to wish her and her now fiancé congratulations on their engagement (she was so happy I could hear the smile in her voice). Last year, seven of my friends got engaged, though this time, because of how long I’ve known her, because of our history, because she’s seen me through my worst and my best, it makes it all the more special. She’s loyal, compassionate, a good listener and always knows what to say after you find out that your ex has a new girlfriend. I’m thrilled for her and its news definitely worth smiling about.

Here's something just as exciting, a treat that will make you weak in the knees and dizzy with joy: Linzer Blitz Torte. Ain't that the coolest name? A blend of ground nuts, warm spices, topped with jam and baked till dark brown is sure to make you the most popular girl/boy in the room (pinky swear). The crust is at first crispy, then it becomes chewy from the delicious combination of nuts, flour and butter. The jam on top is an inevitable sticky, gooey mess on your fingers, but it heightens the playfulness of these linzertorte squares and there’s plenty of cinnamon in here, plus ground cloves which adds to the warm charm of these sweets. 

The first time I made these, I moaned--outloud. Then, went on to have a second piece. I usually have good self-control, but these torte squares have an irresistible quality that makes me reaching over for more, and that's saying a lot. I gave away the first batch and had to make these again to devour for myself share with you.

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Recipe here!

Whole Grain Upside Down Cranberry Cake

I’ve spent the past few days giggling a lot, most times with my dad, at my dad and also behind his back. If you met him, you would know right away he’s a funny man, he doesn’t try to be, he just naturally is.

My friend Bonnie loves to tell the story of the time when she called my house looking for me. My dad picked up the phone and for fun, crooned in a high-pitched girly tone, “moshi moshi?” (Japanese for hello on the phone). Bonnie burst into a fitful of giggles and between breaths asked for me, my dad blushed and handed over the phone to me. We proceeded laughing for a good five minutes and ten years later, we still laugh about it.

The photo above was taken in Beijing during my summer vacation when I was visiting my parents, just in time to catch the Olympics. My dad still works in China and visits every year, though it's not easy to living on opposite sides of the world, we Skype everyday, sometimes with webcam (then again my mom and I can't help but poke fun at his baldness so he rarely turns it on). My mom hates it when we go out and people say we look nothing alike, they never guess that we’re mother and daughter. What do you think? I look a lot like my dad, the same eyes, the same round face, I talk like him too sometimes and I like to think I got his DNA for seeking adventurous foods.

Last week was his birthday and of course, I love birthdays because that means food. We shared a 5 lb lobster cooked in soy sauce plus lots of garlic and scallions, and soon enough, our plates were teetering with gnarly lobster shells and legs. There was a look of deep concentration hanging on my mom's face as she wrestled out succlent pieces of lobster meat, because even though we were there for my dad's birthday, my mom had long since planned to go to this restaurant for its lobster, it's definitely her favorite food.

When we got home, there was a cake waiting. I’ve been meaning to make this cake since I cracked open Alice Water’s The Art of Simple Food and nothing says it’s the holidays quite like cranberries. In keeping with my experiment of whole grain flours, I switched out the all-purpose flour with a mixture of oat, spelt and whole wheat flours, dialled down the sugar in the cake just a tad and added orange zest to the topping for a little kick.

 

We invited my parents’ friends over to share some cake and of course, they obligingly said yes. They wolfed down their first slice and asked for seconds, I don't blame them, I had it for breakfast everyday with a dollop of plain yogurt. It’s a nice cake to have when you don’t want something too cloying, when you crave some fruit and something low-key and rustic. The sour fruit is brought to life with orange juice and a caramel topping and then paired with a moist cake batter that is just right, not too sweet and not too dry. The flours give the cake a nutty, grainy texture that crumbles to bite-sized pieces, perfect for your fork to stab at.

It might not be the prettiest cake, but when you make it for someone who you haven’t seen in a while and manages to cheer you up instantly when you had a bad day, it doesn’t matter.

Happy holidays folks!

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Lately

There has been Chai infused coffee cake

followed by mandatory Nap Time

at the stunning Niagara Falls.


There was also white sangria, concocted with white wine, ginger ale and pineapple juice

...shared with some special friends

and more cake. Like this uber creamy mango orange mousse cake.

There were buildings blanketed in white,

and snow settled on the crevices of everything in sight.

And nothing warms me up like a big bowl of soup noodles,

or spaghetti and meatballs.

And who says you can't have cookies for breakfast? Especially when they're Cornmeal raisin cookies with a cafe latte.

I've also been nursing my very own vanilla extract. It's estimated to be ready for use in 6 weeks, oh how I can't wait! *impatient twiddling of thumbs*

Meanwhile, I made some Benne Wafers. The original recipe failed me, each cookie metaphased with its net door neighbor. I added flour by the spoonful and finally rescued the latch batch; yet despite my frustrations, failures are still sweet.

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Orange polenta cookies

Living in someone else’s apartment is not easy. You have to respect their space. Their habits. Their routines. Not that I hate it, but it’s just means you don’t have the same freedom. You don’t have to bother if a can of pressurized coffee grinds exploded and sprinkled the kitchen counter. You don’t have to care if you spilled a little water on the floor.

So since I moved to Toronto, I’ve stepped out from the kitchen. I haven’t so much as turned on the oven. I rarely fry eggs! And I love eggs. I have my excuses—a new job, too exhausted to cook up a dinner, not motivated to bake, paranoia of setting off the fire alarm and alerting the entire apartment building…

But tonight is a different story. I’ve forced myself to begin the morning with baking cookies. Orange polenta cookies. They’re in the oven right now. I’m watching them melt from their tiny tablespoon balls to round uneven treats, laced with a slightly golden brown edge. They look almost cherubic, soft, pudgy biscuits. They don’t look particularly special, just a bit of glitter from the sugar granules and flecks of orange zest. It seems like an ordinary cookie.


They could be that chubby little girl in kindergarten class. She’s friendly, but shy and is a follower in her circle of friends. But she sparkles. She has the sweetest smile that lights up the classroom.

It’s not your usual melt in your mouth treat. Polenta (ground cornmeal) gives it an extra kick of flavour and bite. The citrus gives it a fresh spring spirit.

Try it. Who cares if you make mess. Bringing those sweet buttery smells into the space makes it more homey. It’s a good feeling. It reminds you why you loved baking in the first place—to feed others and see how their eyes light up when they bite into something pleasantly unexpected.


Thanks to Jamie Oliver for the recipe:

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Recipe here!