Hallo everyone. Today, Mr. Woofy would like to offer some advice on how to get the last of the peanut butter left at the bottom of the jar.
“You can try and stick your nose inside the jar to lick out what’s left on the bottom…”
“But be careful - you’ll probably get some stuck on your nose that you’ll have to lick off!”
“If you can’t get to it yourself, you can just ask someone nearby (like Grandma) to reach in and get it for you!”
“Make sure you get every last bit of peanut butter off their fingers!”
Check out Sweetnicks on Sunday to see what other pooches are doin’ to pass the time for WDB #47 
Technorati Tags: golden retrievers, dogs, peanut butter, weekend dog blogging
This afternoon was an interesting one. Anyone who passed by our house could have been forgiven for thinking that there was some kind of domestic disturbance, with all the crashing, swearing, cries of anguish and general air of despair.
You see, I had 4 egg whites left over from the sables last weekend, and whilst I’d had every intention of using them to create a lovely, fluffy egg-white omlette with cheese and mushrooms, there were no cheese and mushrooms to be found as I’d neglected to go shopping this week. Unsure of how long egg-whites last (even when refrigerated), so I was extremely eager to use them up today. I could have gone shopping, but after flipping through Shannon Bennett’s “My Vue” cookbook, found that the recipe for macaroons called for 4 egg whites! Why, if that wasn’t the call of fate, then I don’t know what is. Or, at least, that’s what I foolishly thought at the time…
The first batch of macaroons left the oven looking just okay. I was disappointed about them not having any feet, but in all honesty was just glad that they hadn’t deflated.
I followed Shannon’s instructions to the letter. Whilst I’m usually a bit careless with my quantities (”Whoops, I spilt an extra 1/4 cup of flour in that cake mix…ahh, it’ll be fiiiine!”), this time I made sure that all my measurements were correct to the very last gram. The macaroons came out of the oven and looked delightful (except for the lack of foot, which, after using some colourful sailor-speak for a few minutes, I accepted quite quickly), and as Shannon instructed, I left them on the tray to cool completely. Anxious, I was lifting up the parchment to feel the bottom every few minutes, and once I was sure that they were cold, I tried to pry them off the paper…
…and ended up holding just the shell, the complete innards of the macaroon left behind on the paper. “Riiiiight…” I thought to myself, “Let’s try that again”
This time, I eased a fingernail under the edge and ever-so-slowly started to lift. I noticed that the botom was coming away from the shell and sticking to the paper. In a fit of panic, I left the tray and ran to google to try and find a solution. One blogger recommended pouring a small amount of boiling water under the parchment and letting it slide under each macaroon, so I raced back to the kitchen to give this a try.
No luck, senor. The next one completely collapsed as I was trying to lift it, becoming nothing but wafer-thin crumbles of macaroon atop a sticky mound that felt akin to taffy.
At this stage, I got a little desperate, and got out a thin metal spatula. I rubbed some olive oil lightly around the tip with a paper towel, and edged it under yet another macaroon. I paused, cut out the piece of parchment around the macaroon, and slowly started to peel down around all edges, all the while gently using my spatula to try and lift it further up. I managed to get most of it off, but a large portion slap bang in the middle decided it liked the parchment better than me and absolutely refused to budge.
By now, I was tearing my hair out and venting my frustration with some extremely colourful language, near tears and cuddling Mr. Woofy to comfort my inner anguish.
“It’s okay mommy…I think they still taste nice!”
After returning to the google to search some more, I found a few other bloggers who’d made these little French delicacies, and noted their recommendations. One advised leaving them for up to 2hrs for the macaroons to develop a skin. I left one tray for 2 hours, but after that there was still no skin and they were still wet to touch. Another one said that the bowl should have been firmly tapped against the countertop to remove any air from the mixture. As it was a bit late for this since all the mixture had already been piped, I tried firmly rapping the baking tray firmly against the table before baking. These ones came out as flat as crepes.
At this point, with just one tray left and utter hopelessness having a hold over my heart, I chucked the last tray in and went outside for a cigarette or three. I zoned out, and by the time I remembered that I had something baking, they’d been in the oven for 30 minutes (the recipe said the baking time was 20 minutes). I raced back inside, grabbed the tray and pulled it out quickly.
It turns out that the problem was that they were underbaked! The last batch still didn’t have any feet, but I actually managed to remove 99% of the macaroon from the parchment. Egads!
Footless and a little flat, I’m just glad they were removed almost entirely intact!
So what have I learnt from this little adventure into the land of macaroons?
1. If it’s something you’ve never made before, research and see what other food bloggers say about their experiences.
2. Use a little common sense. If a cake had not come away from the sides of it’s tin, I would have assumed that it was undercooked, but in my anxiousness I placed all my trust in the cookbook.
3. Maintain a sense of humour. A lot of these situations are a bit laugh-or-you’d-cry. Whilst I was (almost) crying while making these, even now I can look back at what happened and give a tired hoot.
4. Dress your battle wounds and prepare for another attack. As a comfort, I made another batch of sables today…which has left me with another 4 egg whites. Tomorrow is another day!
Technorati Tags: macaroon, macaron, petit four
I am about to place my first ever batch of plain macaroons into the oven.
Someone hold me. I’m so scared…
I have put off writing this review for almost a fortnight. Why? Because I wasn’t sure if I wanted to write a negative review about a dining experience…however, in the end I decided that since the negativity was based on the ‘food theme’ for the month and not the restaurant itself, I’d go ahead with it.
Anyone who lives in Melbourne and loves the coffee/tea culture of the city will know Degraves St. A tiny little alleyway between Flinders St and Flinders La, half of it is crammed shoulder to shoulder with wonderful little cafes which serve all manner of food and drink. Rarely have I been there during morning, day, or night, when it wasn’t absolutely chock full of people. It also features a few lonely restaurants, away from the chaos of the cafe corner, and these are nice, cosy eateries, particularly handy when it’s pouring down with rain and you don’t *really* feel like huddling under a cafe umbrella while fat raindrops drip down your back.
One of these restaurants is Il Tempo. A tiny restaurant not really capable of seating more than 6-7 couples for a meal, they have an extensive wine range and a fairly decent menu. Excuse me, let me correct myself - they HAD a fairly decent menu. I had been here before with friends and had a fairly nice dining experience, which is why I had returned, but I definetely did not expect what I saw when I opened the menu.
The food section had been erased and replaced with 7 different kinds of gnocchi. Greeeeeeeeat. Wonderful if you’re a gnocchi lover, but I find them a bit too filling, and had been looking forward to having their seafood pasta with fresh tomato sauce. A ordered the pumpkin gnocchi with blue cheese sauce, and after much umming and ahhing, I decided to go with the seafood sauce on some semolina gnocchi.
The service was wonderful, our waiter zipping around us to make sure we had everything we required - our fresh garlic bread arrived in a flash, our glasses topped and we were constantly asked if everything was okay and whether we needed anything else. In fact, the waiter was almost TOO helpful, but as he was extremely friendly, not pushy and there was no-one else eating, I’ll forgive him that.
I have to take a break here to point out that I really do like this restaurant. They give quite decent servings, the interior is lovely and intimate, and the service is very good. It was just the damn gnocchi.
Our food arrived, and we took stock (but I forgot to take my camera so no photos). A’s pumpkin gnocci didn’t actually bear any signs of having pumpkin in them, other than some almost-microscopic pieces of pumpkin scattered in the sauce. It was also served so hot that he had to wait about 10 minutes before he could eat, as the first bite he took scalded his mouth. The gnocchi tasted of nothing, and was only saved by the delicious blue cheese sauce it was served in (which, although was peppered with tiny pumpkin specs, didn’t actually have any pumpkin flavour!).
As for my seafood sauce on semolina gnocchi? The semolina itself was overcooked and slimey, with a rather frightening texture between thick goop and solid goop (but still goop). What they called ‘gnocchi’ was just a solid, flat bed of semolina. HAH. And the seafood sauce? They were a little scant with the seafood, only 2 scallops and 3 mussels, the rest was fish flakes and small prawns…however, since I adore seafood, I usually would have eaten every piece regardless of the goop it was served on. I couldn’t in this instance as it was served in a tomato-paste based sauce which was so salty it almost made my mouth shrivel. Honest to god, I have NO idea what the chef thought he was doing when he thought that sauce up. Sure, he’d tried to increase the ‘complexity’ by chucking a few herbs in, but I could barely taste them and definetely couldn’t work out what they were for the taste of tomato paste and salt which overwhelmed every bite. Not on. I paid $22 for what I thought would be a pleasant meal, and after forcing down 3 bites, had to admit defeat - there was no way on this planet I could eat this food.
The waiter did look very hesitant when hovering around us as he noticed I was not eating my meal, and later when I went down to pay, he asked how it was and I admitted my disappointment with the food. Oh well, c’est la vie.
Thankfully, he explained to us that the gnocchi theme will only last this month, and that after August they will return to their regular menu, but after such a meal, I wonder if I could ever bring myself to return there. I mean, Melbourne has such a large number of eateries that I could try a new one every week for the rest of my life! Okay, I’m exaggerating…but barely 
Next time I’m down Degraves and feel peckish, I’ll just pay $2 and get myself a piping hot, fresh and authentic waffle from the extremely eccentric (and highly amusing) Marc Laucher, proprietor of the Belgian waffle cafe “Waffle On“.
:: EDIT ::
I received the following review from Susanne of Better Than Cheesecake about her dining experience at Il Tempo with her Italian classmates:
We fit the twenty of us in, just. There was a bit of a kerfuffle since we’d been assigned the upstairs area, but one of our group was in a wheelchair, so there was a lot of shuffling around before we got sorted.
I had a strawberry and champagne risotto, a special, The waitress wanted to know what I thought of it as I was the only one in the restaurant who had ordered it. Fair enough of her to ask, but I felt like a bit of a guinea pig. The meal should be ready to go when they’re serving it up to customers rather than testing it out on us. It was pretty good, but needed a bit more flavour and texture.
I’d go back, but with it being so tiny, I think it’d be nice to go with just one other person, rather than nineteen!
So, there you go Not the best Italian in town, but not too shabby…so long as you avoid the polenta!
Technorati Tags: restaurant review, dining out, italian cuisine, gnocchi, il tempo”
Okay, so it’s not quite April, but we here in Australia *are* in our last month of Winter and the signs that spring is coming are everywhere - things are blossoming, birds are chirping and the bloody spiders are beginning to come out. Heck, I even saw a bee today!The quote is by American author/poet Edna St. Vincent Millay, and I think it perfectly the general mood in Spring. Spring is the season of chirpiness, when you wake up feeling good because the sun has already risen, there are flowers to smell everywhere and the air smells like new life.
(sorry for the flurry of non-food related posts but I haven’t actually cooked since the weekend. Hopefully will make it to the store this arvo to pick up cooking supplies, aka FOOD!)
I love these tiny flowers - this plant is some kind of climbing thing which has all but replaced one of our wooden fences, and the bees absolutely adore them in the spring/summer months.
Same variety as above, but in white.
More cherry blossoms
Awww, peekaboo!
Awake and soaking in the sun’s rays. Can’t remember what these are called, but the strong lines in the leaves make GREAT chocolate leaves.
Some more flowers from this post, you can see the upside-down opening of the flower
Technorati Tags: flowers, spring, photography, macro, buds
