No tea party would be complete without cake, and this year I wanted to make the birthday girl a little something special: a Speculoos and wild berry cheesecake with caramel au beurre salé.

The cake itself was made with a speculoos biscuit base, secret layer of redcurrants, blueberries and raspberries, and a sumptuously tart lemon and cream cheese filling (recipe below).

The real magic was in the salted butter caramel sauce, which was a surprisingly successful experiment for a first attempt.

The first batch I made had a beautifully rich, thick dark honey tone but tasted slightly metallic as a result of my burning the sugar in the initial stages. For round two, I turned the heat down and whisked continuously throughout the process. The result was lighter in colour and texture, and tasted like Werther’s Original liquid gold with a welcome salty kick.

The secret is… never stop stirring!

1. Pour 150g caster sugar into a pan with a thick bottom on a moderate heat.
2. Keep stirring until the sugar starts to clump together.
3. The lumps will start to brown slightly as the sugar melts.
4. Be careful not to burn the sugar , so keep whisking and when it becomes a light brown liquid, add 50g butter (I used unsalted).
5. Turn down the heat and stir in a heaped teaspoon of crushed sea salt.
6. Once the butter has melted, pour in 20cl double cream – it will hiss and bubble but just keep whisking and take off the heat.
7. Leave to cool and thicken for a few minutes…and enjoy as you wish!

For the cheesecake you’ll need:

• 200g Speculoos or digestive biscuits
• 50g melted butter
• 450g cream cheese
• 170ml pot crème fraiche
• 2 eggs
• juice of ½ lemon
• zest of 1 whole lemon
• 100g caster sugar (I used very little sugar to balance out the caramel sauce)
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• a couple of handfuls of your favourite berries

Remember that this is an overnight recipe, as the cheesecake tastes best when it has set in the fridge for a few hours.

1. Preheat oven at 180°C.
2. Blitz the biscuits to fine crumbs in a food processor or crush in a bag with a rolling pin.
3. Stir in the melted butter and press this mixture into the base of a lined loose-bottomed 20cm cake tin.
4. Put base in the fridge to set while you make the filling.
5. Beat together the cream cheese and sugar.
6. Add the lemon juice to loosen the mixture.
7. Once the sugar has dissolved, add 1 egg at a time, followed by the lemon zest and vanilla.
8. Beat in the crème fraiche and set aside.
9. Take your biscuit base out of the oven and spread just a spoonful of filling over the base.
10. Sprinkle the berries over this first layer then cover with the rest of the filling.
11. Put in the oven and bake for 40 minutes.
12. It is ready when the centre is still wobbly but the sides have browned slightly and come away from the tin.
13. Turn off the oven and leave to cool with the door open slightly.
14. Once it has completely cooled, put your cheesecake in the fridge overnight.

To finish, I poured over the caramel au beurre salé and then dropped a handful of berries into the centre, which created a beautiful effect as the scarlet berry juice bled into the caramel. Et voila…

What’s playing today?

In honour of International Woman’s Day 2013, here is my idol and the queen of Rock & Roll, Tina Turner, with a 1965 performance of Fool in Love.

However, despite all the tartes, soufflées and brûlées, my heart will always belong to the most decadent and devious of desserts, fondant au chocolat. Nothing can beat the satisfaction of plunging your spoon through the baked cake cocoon and into its secret underbelly of molten chocolate.

While in search of a sweet showstopper for a friend’s birthday dinner, I followed Gordon Ramsey’s fondant recipe and was delighted to find that it worked like a dream.

• 50g melted butter to brush the ramekins
• cocoa powder dust the buttered ramekins
• 200g good-quality dark chocolate
• 200g butter
• 200g golden caster sugar
• 4 eggs and 4 yolks
• 200g plain flour……………………as Gordon says, all this will make 9 fondants!

1. I brushed the ramekins with melted butter and placed them in freezer for 5 minutes before brushing over another layer and then dusting with cocoa powder.
2. Next I melted the butter and chocolate over a pan of simmering water, and set aside to cool.
3. I whisked the eggs, yolks and sugar until thick and pale before beating in the cooled chocolate in 3 batches, and then folding in the flour.
4. I then spooned the batter to fill ¾ of each ramekin and chilled 4 in the fridge overnight (and put the other 4 in the freezer to save for a rainy day).
5. By the time the girls came over the following evening, all that was left to do was pop my chilled fondants into a preheated oven at 200°C for 12 minutes. (Over-baking risks turning your fondants into little muffins, which will still taste good but most certainly lose their pizzazz).
6. I served these with vanilla ice cream and fresh berries, with a twinkling candle for one special southern belle.

What’s playing today?

Perhaps one of the sexiest covers ever recorded… No Diggity by Chet Faker

We’ve had Mamma Mazzone’s bistecca di vitello, Yiayia’s Greek stuffed tomatoes, Canadian maple roast sweet potatoes, my mama’s Jollof Rice, southern mashed potatoes and a juicy Thanksgiving bird! Last weekend came a traditional bite-size treat from China: Jaozi dumplings delicately hand-made by our very own petite chinoise, Jay-Z (a.k.a Jenny Zeng).

We spent our Saturday evening with a chilled bottle of Martini, moulding dozens of these double-saucer shaped little parcels. Jenny prepared the most fragrant filling made with minced pork, garlic, ginger, shallots, spring onions, shiitake mushrooms, fish sauce, sesame oil, sugar, salt + pepper. Following her lead, we put a teaspoon of the pork filling in the middle of the circular dough skin, dabbed the edge with a little water and then pinched the sides together to seal in all the goodness.

We opted for the healthy cuisson of boiling the jaozi rather than pan frying, and so we placed them in boiling water, adding a cup of cold water after 5 minutes and again after 10 minutes to ensure that they had come to the boil 3 times so that the meat had cooked through.

Dipped in Jenny’s homemade sauce of vinegar, soy sauce, fresh chillies and garlic, these jaozi were gobbled up in record time – adding yet another page to our intercontinental cookbook.

What’s playing today?

Werewolf by CocoRosie

Paris sous la niege by my special friend, Betsy Belavy

So while airport runways were abandoned and railway networks struck by blizzards, we took refuge in our cosy kitchen and whipped up a tray of blueberry & banana muffins… ‘buffins‘.

In keeping with my New-Year-No-Crap nutritious diet, I substituted caster sugar and regular flour for brown sugar, honey and whole-wheat flour. To this I added:

• 2 eggs
• 1½ teaspoon of baking soda
• 1 teaspoon of baking powder
• 1 teaspoon of ground cinnamon
• a sprinkling of nutmeg
• 1 tablespoon of honey
• 3 ripe bananas
• a small punnet of blueberries
• a handful of porridge oats
• 1 pot of natural yogurt
• Sunflower oil to fill ¾ of a yogurt pot
• Measure 1 empty yogurt pot full of brown sugar and 3 pots of the whole-wheat flour

1. Preheat your oven to 180° and grease your cake tin – you can use a loaf or muffin tin, or something like this lovely mini-loaf tin I found in a second-hand store.

2. Sprinkle the cinnamon and nutmeg over the bananas, mash with a fork then pour over the oil.

3. In a separate bowl, combine the brown sugar and yogurt into a smooth caramel-coloured mixture and then beat in the eggs.

4. Add the banana & oil mixture then sift in the rest of the dry ingredients and fold together gently using a spoon.

5. Throw in some blueberries and then pour the mixture into your tin. Sprinkle over the oats and the rest of the blueberries and pop into the oven.

With the natural sweetness of the ripe bananas and blueberries, I’d actually halved the usual measurement of sugar but they tasted all the better for it. These buffins turned out wonderfully golden on the outside, soft and almost toffee-flavoured on the inside!

What’s playing today?

A new artist for a new year – Don’t Regret Me by fellow Londoner, Rainy Milo

Today is my last day at work before the holidays. In 2 days I’ll be checking into CDG Roissy and boarding a 24-hour flight to Sydney for 3 weeks of festive merriment, sun-kissed tan lines and a rustic wedding in the Blue Mountains. Truth be told, I’d already spiritually absconded from the office weeks ago; so while I sit at my desk, mentally packing my suitcase, I thought I’d take a moment to decompress and dedicate a post to my first ever Thanksgiving.

As a 90′s adolescent, Thanksgiving was always a vague North American concept – along with Prom queens and Spring Break – that I’d seen on shows like Fresh Prince and My So Called Life. However, to actually indulge in the real pecan pies and marshmallow roasted sweet potatoes was an experience I’ll cherish! My lovely friend, Christina, invited me to her 3rd annual Thanksgiving dinner here in Paris, a tradition that she created along with a bunch of intercontinental buds.

I’ll start by saying that with everything from the food, to the digs, to the Salon du Vin wine, our host truely out did herself. Not to mention the fact that she was catering for a mere 25 guests who would appear eager and ravenous to give thanks. I arrived in the afternoon to join the other sous-chefs in the kitchen enjoying a tipple of festive red, and for the next few hours I was in bliss… chopping, stirring, peeling and basting while sweet music filled the slick MTV-Cribs-style apartment she had borrowed for the occasion.

With 2 turkeys in the oven, the rest of the menu unfolded with hints of cranberry, fruity stuffing, creamy garlic mashed potatoes, grated pumpkin fritters and a plethora of sweet potatoes – baked… roasted… grilled… mashed or spiced up with cinnamon and nutmeg as the heart of a velvety pie.

…which brings me onto dessert, to which there was an entire banquet dedicated. Most people had contributed wine or pudding and so once the devoured turkeys had been banished to the kitchen, out came a carnival of pies, cheese cakes, tarts, crumbles and, one of my personal favourites, pumpkin flavoured macarons! Oh la la!

It was a beautiful soirée, and I left feeling like a bit of a stuffed turkey myself but extremely thankful for laughter, music and food, glorious food!

What’s playing today?

Parting Ways by Cody ChestnuTT.

What a beautiful lyric…

“May you be blessed with good drink and food, and may your tongue be covered with a garment of good news.”

We indulged in a decadent birthday meal at one of the Canal Saint Martin’s finest resto’s, Hotel du Nord, the highlights of the night being a tuna sashimi and crispy gyoza pastry layered tower and a naughty pain-perdu pudding drizzled with thick caramel salé syrup.

We woke on Sunday morning to more sizzling sunshine and a one-word question on our lips, “Brunch?”. I took the girls to a breakfast spot tucked into the cobbled back streets of Saint-Germain-des-Prés, Eggs&Co. This is a intimate space with a lunch bar at the entrance and about 5 tables on the mezzanine floor above. By a stroke of luck we were able to get a table sans reservation, and we each ordered a jam-packed brunch menu of tea/coffee + freshly pressed juice + eggs (baked, poached, scrambled, fried, boiled…) with roast new potatoes and a salad with sesame dressing + a fruit cup + a thick American pancake with syrup. It was a decent amount of food, and all very delicious, but at €22-26 per menu, it’s not as much cheap as it is cheerful. Having said that, the eggs were just as they should be – that perfect blend of tender, fluffy, mellifluous magic!

Œufs Norvège

My œufs en cocotte were quite special. It’s a classic French baked egg recipe in which the whites are separated from the yolks, and whipped up with butter and cream (and strips of bacon if you like). The mixture is poured into a ramekin and the yolks are placed back on top before the whole thing goes in the oven. The eggs come out looking like a soufflé, and tasting like one too!

After devouring the last syrup-soaked speck of pancake, we wondered through the quartier, and between the warm breeze and rich sounds of the jazz band outside L’église Saint-Germain-des-Prés, I think it’s fair to say that Paris was, once again, basking in all her blazing glory.

Pont des Arts

What’s playing today?

Ritual Union by Little Dragon

One hot spot that is set to become a seasonal favourite is Wanderlust, perched on the south-east banks of the river next to the Cité de la Mode et du Design. This space opened in June and is home to a gallery, restaurant, club and bar which opens onto an immense decked terrace, strewn with sun loungers and an open-air DJ stage which sets the perfect LA beach bar tone.

Wanderlust isn’t just your average terrace bar; there are free outdoor yoga classes and afternoon workshops on kitsch concepts such as knitting or 1940’s hair & beauty. These are designed to charm you into spending your entire day and evening in the Wanderlust bubble, where sadly drinks are rather pricey (we’re talking €10 for a glass of red). That said, it’s still all too easy to succumb to the Wanderlust charms, as I discovered last Saturday.

A friend and fellow food/terrasse/workshop lover told me about the free Saturday workshop on raw food, led by former Top Chef finalist, food consultant and creator of Wanderlust’s restaurant menu, Benjamin Darnaud. The main theme behind this workshop was to embrace the flavours and textures of raw ingredients through simple yet creative recipes.

The first dish we made was a veal tartare using fresh young veal which, as Benjamin described, is a very tender meat with a delicate milky flavour. We diced the veal steak into small cubes then added a variety of natural flavour-enhancing ingredients: lime juice, chopped coriander stalks, savory, mint, grated parmesan and a decent glug of olive oil.

One of my favourite additions was a handful of rosemary leaves which had been fried in olive oil; the combination of crunch and deep fragrance added another dimension to the dish, which was simply delicious.

Next up was a fresh summer salad of thinly sliced raw courgette, to which Benjamin introduced chopped anchovies and a few drops of Tabasco as an inspired alternative to salt and pepper. A squeeze of lemon, zest of lime, olive oil and fresh herbs, and this salad was packed full of all the succulent flavours of a Mediterranean summer.

We ended with the classic South American dish, ceviche, made with fresh sea bream (daurade). The citrus juice of limes, lemons and even oranges are essential here as their acidity marinates and cooks the raw fish. Benjamin showed us how to spice things up with some finely diced apple (Granny Smith for maximum acidity), fresh coriander, olive oil and Tabasco. The flavours worked together magically, and along with the other two dishes, this is most definetly something I’ll be attempting in my own cucina this summer.

All in all, it was a wonderful afternoon at Wanderlust; outdoor cooking, background samba beats and a few new additions to my recipe book.

Where?

WANDERLUST – 32 quai d’Austerlitz 75013 PARIS * Métro: Quai de la gare, Gare d’Austerlitz

**This Saturday’s workshop is a T-shirt silkscreen printing class!**

What’s playing today?

The Love Me Or Die by CW Stoneking

With its gold encrusted temples, exuberant night markets and notorious full moon parties, Thailand holds the key to all sorts of adventure for many wondering travellers. For me, the country’s greatest appeal undoubtedly radiates from its kitchen – อาหาร.

On route to Sydney with my dear friend Jane, we had decided to break up the horrendous 25-hour trip with a 3-day stop-over in Bangkok. I’d already heard several deborturous tales from friends who had visited the Thai capital on a clichéd “gap yah” backpacking trip, but I pictured my stay as more of a culinary pit stop seasoned with kaffir lime, lemongrass and sweet basil…

By day 2 we’d finally kicked the jetlag and awoke refreshed and hungry for the Thai cooking class we’d enrolled in. At just 1000 baht per class (about €30), we weren’t exactly expecting a gourmet Master Chef workshop, and yet what we discovered was so much more!

Our guide, Sanusi, picked us up from our hotel and escorted us to the local market where we met our fellow students – a small group of backpackers, newlywed honeymooners and retired holiday-makers all hoping for an authentic Thai experience. We were each given a small bamboo basket and a bottle of water to help keep hydrated amid the 30°C humidity.

Sanusi is a quirky Thai native and former restaurant chef, who has been teaching classes at the Silom Thai Cooking School for years. As we wandered around the covered market, he explained the purpose and significance of each ingredient, such as the size-to-heat ratio of each chilli at the heart of every curry paste.

As we passed through an array of stalls, Sanusi would casually toss a few ingredients into our baskets and before haggling down the price. After an colourful 30 minutes we left the market with bountiful baskets and walked to the cooking school just 5 minutes around the corner.

Housed in a 4-storey apartment block, the school has 2 traditional open kitchens and an outdoor veranda installed with gas stove cookers. The walls are decorated with photos of past students from all over the world – a thoughtful touch that instantly created an intimate and welcoming atmosphere.

After donning some vibrant aprons, we split into 2 groups: one responsible for washing and preparing the vegetables and the other in charge of deveining prawns and slicing chicken. After this we all met in the main room to begin lesson 1 – how to make coconut milk from scratch. With our hands we gently massaged shredded coconut (fresh from the shell) in a bowl of warm water. Then we used an authentic wicker strainer to squeeze out the liquid, before starting the process all over again. After 3 rounds, it was hugely satisfying to see the result of our combined efforts in an enormous bowl of creamy coconut milk. Sanusi joked that although we were learning the traditional methods, the reality is that most Thai people would sooner pop to the local store for a tin of coconut milk than spend the afternoon massaging their own.

Next came a lesson in flavour, namely chilli, lemongrass, galangal ginger and kaffir lime. These key ingredients are like the founding fathers of Thai cuisine. Sanusi explained that once you have these flavours at the root of your dish, “everything else is like an extra decoration!” You can choose to add whatever you like by way of meat and vegetables because although they add texture and colour, it’s the essentials that really bring the fragrance and flavour.

We walked into the main room at the centre of which our market-trip treasure had been magnificently arranged in an explosion of colour. From pea-sized green aubergines to purple shallots, it was quite literally the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.

Equipped with our wooden block chopping boards, we sat around the ornate centre piece and listened on as Sanusi added key ingredients to a giant stone mortar. This circulated around the room as we chopped, diced and took it in turns to pound the paste.

The first dish we made was Tom Yum Koong – hot and sour prawn soup. We took to our stoves, fired the cylinders and began to stir green onions, roasted chilli paste and prawns. Sanusi then came and splashed each of our pans with a cup of our freshly pressed coconut milk. With a splash of fish sauce and lime juice, we reduced the flame and let the soup simmer as our bellies rumbled. Five minutes later, our starter was ready, adorned with fresh coriander and birds eye chillies.

Tom Yum Koong

Next came a Pad Thai Sai Kai fried noodle dish, complete with tamarind paste, palm sugar, beansprouts, a sprinkling of roasted peanuts and a wedge of lime. The secret is to turn off the heat as soon as the noodles become softened and translucent. It was by far the best Pad Thai I’ve tasted, and I don’t care how hard my horn’s tooting!

Sanusi then showed us how to make one of my favourite dishes of the day, Laab Gai. It’s a light chicken salad made with ground chicken (or minced tofu), fresh mint, coriander, toasted rice, shallots and ground chillies. He heaped the salad onto a deep soup spoon and served it with a ball of sticky rice. I’m still in love with the beauty and simplicity of this dish…a sure-fire show stopper for any dinner party!

Unbeknown to us, the main course was still to follow. To a spoonful of our lovingly pulverised green curry paste, we added chicken, aubergine, torn kaffir lime leaves, shredded ginger, palm sugar and fish sauce. Another splash of coconut milk and we’d made ourselves a first-class green curry, Kang Khiao Wan Gai.

Kang Khiao Wan Gai

At this point, I was sure that I’d reached O-V-E-R-L-O-A-D. That was until the aroma of nutty bananas came wafting through the back kitchen. Sanusi had been preparing a traditional Thai desert by the name of Mun Ted Gang Buad. Baby bananas or sweet potato can be used in this recipe, which is a simple blend of coconut milk, water, salt and palm sugar. Sanusi added a touch of colour and crunch by sprinkling over some daffodil-yellow roasted mung beans. The dish was pretty as a picture, and I somehow managed to find it within myself to polish off the entire bowl.

Mun Ted Gang Buad

And so, while I can imagine that witnessing a live ping-pong popping show might provide good fodder for recounting wild travel tales, if you’re looking to discover something with a little more substance then I can’t recommend a cookery class like this enough. And let’s not forget that just €30 covered a market tour, refreshments, a 4-hour class, all the ingredients for a 5-course meal and a little bound recipe book, which we each received as a token momento.

This was a genuine slice of Thai lifestyle with a fun, sociable and hands-on approach to cooking. It’s an experience that I’ll cherish, and after revisiting all of these photos and flavours, my hunger and I are wishing that we could touch down in Bangkok tout de suite!

Where?

Silom Thai Cooking School in Bangkok, Thailand

What’s playing today?

Hey by KING – this is like listening to a dream ♥

The dish has enjoyed a welcome comeback in recent years, making a cameo alongside Meryl Streep and Amy Adams in their blockbuster tribute to Julia Child’s culinary story, Julie & Julia.

To begin with, I turned up the wireless and seasoned 2 table spoons of flour with salt and pepper. Next I lightly dusted chunks of braising beef (500g) in the flour before browning it in batches with some olive oil in a deep pan. Next I added lardons (sliced bacon) and a knob of butter to the same pan with all the beef juices. After 2 minutes I threw in a chopped onion and 2 big garlic cloves, later followed by sliced celery and carrot. I let this cook for around 5 minutes before returning the beef, along with 2 bay leaves and 2 sprigs of fresh thyme. I then added about a table spoon of flour to soak up the juices and thicken the soon-to-follow broth. Next came about half a bottle of Pinot Noir, followed by 200 ml of beef stock. At this point I simply covered my bourguignon, transferred it to my preheated oven and left it to work it’s magic for the rest of the afternoon at 140°C.

I took a few pointers from Britain’s very own Julia, Delia Smith, and added the shallots and mushrooms a couple of hours later. First I sautéed them whole in a butter for 2 minutes then added them to the bourguignon for the last hour, which meant that instead of  overcooked they were full of flavour.

My bourguignon came out of the oven and filled the apartment with a belly-rumbling aroma just in time for my housemate to walk through the door after spending the day at work. I served it with steamed new potatoes tossed in a little butter mixed with a dollop of mustard (because there’s never too much butter!).

I’m slightly embarrassed to admit that we tucked into our supper so swiftly that there was hardly time to snap a photo before the contents of our plates had been devoured. This must be the sign of a nourishing, comforting – albeit not so seasonal – meal.

What’s playing today?

A special someone sent this to me recently and dared me not to laugh or smile… I failed.

Mr Bojangles by Sammy Davis Jr.