Plum, pistachio & lemon cake – nutty, not-too-sweet and studded with juicy plums. Top with a lemon glaze and serve with a dollop of thick greek yogurt.  Jump to Recipe 

I’m now back in Melbourne and have just started a psychiatry rotation for the start of my fourth year of medical school. Holidays are most certainly over! Personality disorders came up in lectures the other day, and one in particular struck a chord with us. The Narcissistic Personality Disorder criteria includes “has a grandiose sense of self importance (e.g. exaggerates achievements and talents)”; is preoccupied with fantasies of unlimited success, power, brilliance”; “believes that he or she is “special” and unique”; “requires excessive admiration”; “has a sense of entitlement”; “lacks empathy: is unwilling to recognize or identify with the feelings ands needs of others”; “is often envious of others or believes that others are envious of him or her”. Ring a bell? Maybe like someone that might have just been elected to one of the most powerful positions in the world? The DSM-V criteria also states that this includes “becoming irritated when others fail to assist in their “very important work””(i.e. THE MEDIA), or “they may expect their arrival to be greeted with great fanfare” (i.e. crowd size preoccupations, anyone?). Vulnerability in self-esteem also makes these individuals very sensitive to “injury” from criticism and defeat. I can’t spell it out any more clearly than this :

I didn’t set out intending this post to be politically focussed, but it is increasingly difficult to ignore the disturbing events happening in the US. Blogging for me usually means writing about topics that have been on my mind and certain experiences or backstories relevant to a particular recipe, but it would feel like burying my head in the sand to continue without mention of today’s current events. From the restrictions on funding to international aid organisations offering birth control, to the incomprehensible travel ban and the random, disorganised tweeting by the president himself – as the South Park & Book of Morman writers said, “satire has become reality”. To be honest, the rampant lying (or “alternative truth”, sorry) is the scariest part. Anecdotally, a friends employee in Boston told her that she was voting for Trump because “Hillary Clinton is a Muslim”. She fully, entirely believed this to be true. As a university student with access to and interest in news, I can hardly believe it – but for many voters, these news stories circulated by word of mouth, facebook or extremist websites are taken as gospel.

In the food blogging corner of the world, a whole bunch of amazing people have written #immigrantfoodstories to show support for immigrants. Check out this post by Kimberley Hasselbrink of The Year in Food for links to these stories and follow the hashtag on social media channels.

I have no real way to segue that to this cake, I have to admit. I’m currently typing this out in the sun outside the hospital cafeteria, and am kind of wishing a piece of this plum, pistachio and lemon cake would materialise in front of me – though that would place me in the psych ward with the patients I’m currently seeing, so maybe not. I’m not a big fan of raw pistachios themselves (too salty + they get in your teeth – is that just me?) but I LOVE them in baking. If you haven’t tried this easy apricot and pistachio slice yet, give that a go too. Ripe plums are best – the 45 minutes in the oven gives them time to soften and gently sink, melding into the surrounding cake batter. It’s not too sweet- more nutty, moist and tangy with plums and freshly grated lemon zest. Perfect with a dollop of greek yogurt and your morning coffee.

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I’ve had some major kitchen disappointments lately. Things aren’t turning out as expected. Yesterday’s pavlova-making episode involved a slightly undercooked, unusually flat meringue collapsing under the weight of the whole pears propped on top. The mascarpone cream underneath gradually softened as, in a rush, I hadn’t taken the time to cool the poached pears completely. Sticky espresso caramel oozed over the edge of the serving plate and pooled on the table, while the bowls stacked up on the bench-top and dirty utensils were strewn over the kitchen. And I had just 15 minutes to get ready to go out for dinner.

It was probably the fastest clean-up I’ve ever done, even if it wasn’t the most thorough.

24 hours later it is almost all gone – it’s difficult for chocolate meringue, mascarpone, spiced pears and caramel to taste bad. It just wasn’t quite right, and 6 egg yolks are now staring me down each time I open the fridge, with a 2 day expiry… Any ideas?

These loaf cakes were another example. The first time I tried them, I had some fixed idea that I wanted to use polenta. And olive oil. And they looked cute – like if you saw them in a cafe, you would probably order one, before being overwhelmed by the too dry, crumbly texture and overwhelming polenta-ness of it all. Maybe that’s harsh – my housemates liked them. It’s a work in progress, let’s say. But I kept returning to the original flourless orange cake recipe. You probably know it – originally by Claudia Roden in her 1968 ‘A book of Middle Eastern Food’, it was popularised later by the New York Times, The Cooks’ Companion, Woman’s Weekly and a whole host of others.

It was worth it. Full-bodied orange flavour unhindered by polenta and undiluted by olive oil, silky smooth and moist with just ground almonds to complement it. The kind of cake that gets better over a week but will only last a couple of days, if that. It reminded me that sometimes you don’t need to fix, or improve on, what isn’t broken. That sometimes a recipe can just be taken at face value, made and enjoyed, no bells and whistles required. I have a habit of (mostly) not following recipes, generally because my time to cook and photograph is so limited that I can’t afford to make a single dish 5 or 10 different times.

So I hope you don’t mind that this is probably the thousandth publication of these flourless whole orange & almond loaf cakes on the internet. It’s a testament to its genius, and a celebration of it. I’m convinced that everyone should try it – the sweetness balanced by the inclusion of orange peel, a hint of almond nuttiness and the sheer simplicity of those five ingredients. It’s unique and unlike any other cake in my repertoire. Whole oranges are boiled for an hour to two, toning down the harsh bitterness of the peel, then pureed to a paste. Because whole oranges vary – in sweetness, in peel thickness, in size and shape – each rendition is slightly different. Then it’s a mere four more ingredients – combine with eggs, ground almonds, caster sugar and baking powder.

To decorate them how I did here: if you want it to be completely dairy free or have a blow-torch you feel like pulling out, line the loaf tins with thinly sliced orange to brulee after baking (see photos above). If you’re a cream cheese frosting fan without dietary restrictions, pipe that on top instead.

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Brûlée Bircher Muesli with Ginger Poached Pear and Tamarillo – creamy, crunchy and healthy with a crackly creme-brulee-like topping.  Jump to Recipe 

Fact of the day: bircher muesli was first eaten by patients at a hospital in the Swiss Alps, dreamed up by physician Maximilian Bircher-Benner around the turn of the 1900s. He was a little ahead of his time – I wonder what he would think of today’s raw food movement and versions of his muesli featuring heavily on cafe menus around the world. He also banned coffee and chocolate, however – not such a fan of that idea.

I’ve always been a morning person. My body clock seems to have been permanently scarred by years and years of 5am starts for swim training – groggily crawling out of bed, eyes still half closed, a sleepy trip to the pool and the abrupt shock of cold water. The smell of chlorine and the beep of an alarm still brings it back – a little jolt of familiarity and nostalgia mixed with a hint of relief at the reminder that it is no longer a six-mornings-a-week training thing, and more of a whenever-I-want-to-enjoyment thing. It does mean my brain is now wired for early wake-ups. Even after a late night, or a full on week of university, sleep is frustratingly elusive after about 730am. WHY?!?

Breakfast is never optional. It’s a little monotonous, though – barring the odd weekend brunch out or french toast in, it has been cereal + yoghurt + fruit as far back as I can remember. How do we not get bored of it? I’m almost positive that if I ate the same thing for lunch or dinner for even a week I wouldn’t want to touch it again for a while, yet breakfast is somehow exempt. Growing up it was always a mission to time my breakfast and shower to ensure the newspaper would be available. With six of us it wasn’t always possible, though the boys always went for the sports section and Mum was nice enough to settle for any part (or maybe she just couldn’t be bothered having a child reading over her shoulder, just waiting for her to be finished). Just Right for years, then a swap to Sultana Bran after realised that my serving of the former contained something like 15 teaspoons of sugar (oops), topped with kiwifruit, pineapple and whatever else is in season. No milk, because plain milk freaks me out (I know, I know – the story goes that as soon as Mum tried to swap me from a bottle to drinking milk from a glass, my stubborn toddler self never touched it again). Not porridge, because it was always too mushy and milky.  I always assumed I wouldn’t like overnight oats for the same reason – cold, milky, oaty, plain, not sweet enough…you name it. 

It proved the ultimate cliche that you should always give something a chance before judging it too critically – because bircher has grown on me. It’s overtaken any other. And through some experimentation and research, this is my go-to, mix-up-the-night-before recipe. Thick natural or greek yogurt is essential for a creamy texture, grated granny smith apple adds texture and a tangy sweetness, and the cinnamon brings everything together. The night in the fridge softens the oats and thickens the mixture, ready to be topped with extra yogurt and lots of fruit in the morning.

This brulee bircher muesli with ginger poached pear is my favourite version thus far, with the pear & tamarillos poached in a cinnamon & ginger honey syrup.  If you haven’t heard of tamarillos, they are a winter fruit widely available in New Zealand (thought I have no idea about other parts of the world). Though mouth-puckeringly sour when raw, a quick 6 minute poach leaves them still tangy, but not so painfully acidic. Top the bircher with the reduced spiced fruit syrup and extra nuts and seeds for crunch, then if you’re treating yourself on the weekend, grab a blow-torch and brulee the yogurt. It’s that satisfying sugary crackle and crunch of creme brulee –  but at breakfast time.

BREAKFAST GOALS, you guys.

I change up the bircher toppings all the time though – other ideas are:

• Caramelised banana
• Roast or poached stone fruit
• Sauteed apple in a teaspoon of butter, cinnamon & a drizzle of maple syrup
• Poached rhubarb 
• Mango & pineapple (use coconut yogurt for extra tropical flavour)

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Strawberry, Rhubarb & Pistachio Bars – crisp, buttery shortbread base topped with pistachio paste and covered with tangy, sweet rhubarb and strawberries.  Jump to Recipe 

Following last week’s epic birthday cake, I thought a recipe a little less time and energy intensive was necessary this week – something that doesn’t take a day of planning and multiple components of cake layers, buttercream, lemon curd, meringue, cooking time, decoration time… instead, something you might make quickly on the morning you have friends over for coffee, for an easy dessert, or just to fill the tins for weekday baking. If you are anything like me, morning tea coffee doesn’t feel quite complete without something sweet alongside it.

Enter these strawberry, rhubarb & pistachio bars. Adapted from last summer’s apricot version (and one of the first recipes I posted here!), I remember being surprised at just how good the pistachio frangipane was when coupled with fresh apricots, a sweet nutty paste that is quite transformed from raw pistachios still tucked in their shell. However, apricot season hasn’t quite got underway yet, and with the abundance of strawberries around here it seemed the obvious replacement.

It really worked. A crisp, buttery shortbread-like base is topped with pistachio paste and covered with tangy, sweet rhubarb and strawberries, with the time in the oven bringing out the ripe, oozy fruit juices and bright pink colour.

All the decadent Thanksgiving recipes around lately had me feeling a little out of it here in New Zealand, where it isn’t celebrated and we are heading into hot and humid summer weather – so I figure this slice skips straight into Christmas colours, all green and red and celebratory. If you are in the Northern hemisphere, you could try replacing the strawberries with a different fruit, but be careful with frozen berries as they might be too juicy/liquidy for the base. You could also change up the type of nut – I imagine a walnut paste with caramelized apples and caramel sauce drizzled over (coupled with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, of course!) would go down pretty well. Or a hazelnut base with chocolate chips and roast pears scattered on top for a nutella-like combo…

It does look its best on the day it is made, covered in a dusting of icing sugar and sliced warm, but kept in the fridge it lasts a while. Best of all, all the work is done by a food processor or blender, meaning limited dishes and less than half an hour prep time.

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Golden-brown brioche french toast rest on a thick smear of vanilla bean creme patisserie, topped with citrus roasted rhubarb and roughly chopped pistachios. Jump to Recipe 

Just realised that this is my second week of a sweet breakfast recipe post… hope you don’t mind!

I don’t, but sweet breakfasts are one of my favourite meal categories – french toast, pancakes, brioche, chia puddings, you name it, I’m there (except maybe porridge – but would you class that as sweet?). Cafe trips leave me as indecisive as if I was just asked to make a life or death decision (maybe not quite, but close!), when really I just don’t know whether I want to order the healthy green breakfast with eggs and avocado or the decadent menu option. I often end up ordering both, or forcing my breakfast partner(s) to share with me.. A bad habit to get into, but an irrational fear of missing out on one or the other leaves me torn and completely unable to choose without leaving with serious menu regrets.

It’s strange, as indecisiveness isn’t a problem in other aspects of life – it is just when it comes to food. Whether I am trying to choose what cake to make on the weekend, what to order at a restaurant or what to make for dinner, decisions seem to take much longer and significantly more thought than they realistically should. Part of the problem currently is that I am unable to cook at college, so as soon as I go home I try to fit all my cooking and baking into a week or two of frantic time in the kitchen. Mid-semester break is coming up the week after next, and I currently have ideas spanning twenty or thirty dishes – impossible to fit into an eight day period, but am seriously struggling to choose – because really, how can you say that crumpets are more worthwhile than hotcakes, that strawberry-rhubarb bars are better than lemon-olive oil-sea salt bars, or that an espresso mascarpone banana bread should be prioritised over flaky lemon blueberry scones?

Seriously struggling, I tell you. So if you have any preferences or tips (that don’t include drawing recipes out of a hat…), please let me know!

But back to the recipe. It is based on a dish at a cafe called Three Bags Full that I recreated at home, as getting on a plane to experience it again right when I wanted it was probably a little excessive. The slabs of golden-brown brioche french toast rest on a thick smear of vanilla bean creme patisserie and are topped with citrus roasted rhubarb and roughly chopped pistachios. A partnership of sweet creme patisserie, hot french toast straight from the pan and tart stalks of spring rhubarb with extra nuttiness for texture, it is something I could eat again, and again, and again.

Although the activity levels in our house are such that it is a rarity for everyone to be around on a weekend morning for a lazy midmorning breakfast, I feel like this french toast would be ideal for that situation. It did work well even for different timed meals though, as the creme patisserie and rhubarb can be made well ahead and the french toast just cooked as required. The recipe will make more rhubarb (and possibly more creme patisserie) than you need, but no worries – either make french toast again to use it up, add the rhubarb to your muesli the next day, have it for dessert with ice cream.. I could go on, but the options are limitless! The recipe is also easy to scale up for more people – just use more eggs and milk to dip the french toast in and make a double batch of creme patisserie.

For the brioche loaf, I made my own the night before, left it out to get slightly stale and then used it for the next two days of french toast making – it was absolutely perfect, so if you have time, I would highly recommend Thalia Ho’s recipe (from Butter & Brioche) for brioche loaves. You could also buy a loaf of brioche, challah or similar enriched sweet bread to use – it creates such a different french toast than using a white french baguette or white loaf.

I would also love to try brûléeing the top of the french toast straight after it comes out of the pan with a sprinkle of extra sugar and a blowtorch for extra crispy sugary edges, but that will have to wait until next time!

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