Berry Berry Yogurt Pops

I once threw a fit (that's an understatement, it was equivalent to a tornado) because I couldn’t buy a blender. Really. True story. For months, I had been saving money to buy my first kitchen appliance. I went to bed thinking of creamy milkshakes, fruit juices, and icy cold smoothies, anything to beat the sticky summers in Shanghai.

My parents and I made plans to buy a Philips standing blender after our lunch on a weekend. I had safely tucked away my cash in my wallet, too excited to eat, I was bouncing off the walls, chirping, “Is it time yet? Can we go now?” Much to my chagrin, when we arrived at the house ware floor of the department store, the price for the blender had shot up. I didn't have enough money to buy it anymore. I was devastated. I went home sulking, banged the door shut, screamed into my pillow, yanked my blanket to the floor and cried in a corner (I don't think I even cried that hard about a Barbie. I mean, it was this just a blender). I suppose I'm a wee bit spoiled.


Weeks later, I had finally saved enough and bought the blender. I hugged it all the way home, admiring its mint green tint and the stand with a cantaloupe-colored dial for three speeds. There was also a small button for quick clean and an inner tube to stick in the middle of the blender for separating seeds. It was beautiful.

Immediately, I plugged the white cord into a socket, dolloped big scoops of vanilla ice cream into the blender, followed by chunks of banana and a dash of milk to make a milkshake. I concocted tall glasses of strawberry smoothies with ice and lounged on the couch with a book. Another time, I attempted to make kiwi juice, but it was grotesque, the blender contents turned a murky green color and I didn't separate the seeds, so the texture became grainy. The idea of making something from just the press of a button, how I could change and adjust the flavors and textures with just a few ingredients was incredibly fun for me. This blender became my best friend.

For Christmas last year, my parents bought me a small blender, knowing that I loved kitchen appliances (thankfully there were only cries of joy this time). It's similar to the magic bullet, but it goes by a different name, The Rocket. I didn't touch it much over the winter, I'd rather sip on tea and coffee to keep me warm. But recently, I've been blending smoothies every weekend to change up my breakfast routine.

So...I was going to tell you about a berry banana smoothie. Then I made these and thought who wants smoothies when you got popsicles?


Here are some berry berry yogurt pops, the perfect remedy to a heat wave. I didn’t follow a recipe, but went by instinct. I impatiently waited for them to freeze. I twiddled my thumbs. I oogled at food blogs from around the world. I ate some chocolate. Finally, hours later, I sunk my teeth into the frozen berry puree, but then the tartness of yogurt hit me--I forgot to add sugar to the yogurt. I adjusted the recipe and included sugar to even out the flavors and phew! it makes a huge difference.

I love the rosy pink color of blended raspberries. It's subtly sweet and you can play with other fruit too (melon or mangoes would be yummy). I’m looking forward to experimenting with other flavour combinations, like strawberry basil, or peach and ginger. Or even better, why not do as Matt Bittman suggests: cocktails on a stick?


There's really nothing better than cooling down in the sweltering heat with a few icy popsicles. Share this with your friends and I can promise you there won't be any tandrums.

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Recipe here!

Lime and Poppy Seed Yogurt Cake

There was a time when I didn’t think much of sweets (Waahhhtttt??). When I didn’t go to bed thinking of blueberry pancakes for breakfast, or when I didn’t fantasize for chewy chocolate chip cookies.


There were days when I didn’t take solace in the alluring scent of browned butter, the familiar rattle of shutting the oven door after testing if my peanut butter cupcakes were ready, or when I secretly looked forward to licking the end of a whisk enrobed in batter (Raw eggs? Food safety? What’s that?!).


Those were days before I lived alone. When I was madly obsessed with my first boyfriend, when I was terrified of never being accepted to any university, when I sought comfort in my best friends when I couldn't get it from my parents, and when I didn't care what I ate. I didn't think about each bite, nor did I judge the aesthetics of what lay on my plate. Most importantly, I couldn't cook or bake anything from scratch.

Today, 5 years later, I finished writing my dietetics registration exam. After 6 hours of hunched over 200 questions that were not only tricky but a little conniving, I was finally done. I walked out and took in a breath of frosty air. Despite my frazzled brain, all I wanted to do was to take a nap and bake a cake. Particularly yogurt cake. Sweets always make me feel better.

If this cake was in high school and got voted for a superlative, this cake would win three categories: most popular, best dressed AND best sense of humour. I’ve made it over a dozen times, in the same spring form pan my cousin bought me for my birthday. By itself, it's a plain yet surprisingly moist cake. You can't taste the yogurt at all, instead, the dairy gives it tenderness and fluff. Make it by plain, or dress it up.


It’s versatile; allowing several variations so you can easily adapt it to your friends’ palates. Plus, it calls for simple ingredients that you most probably already have in the pantry. And finally, it’s a cinch. You can do this with your eyes closed (but try not to the first time, it took me some practice).

This time, I used lime zest and poppy seeds. Grating the lime zest was my favourite part. I love how the fruit releases its citrusy juices, a shower of green sprinkled into the bowl. The poppy seeds spruce up the cake with a subtle kick of pop.



I recently made it for a potluck and insisted my friends take a slice home to their boyfriends/husbands (just so they could rave about it later a few days later).

Bake it now. It’s a stress reliever. It’s a pain killer. Cake is a great antidote to exam induced headaches and frustrations.

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Recipe here!