This delicious recipe for tiramisu is a family recipe, which is true enough because my mum gave it to me. Now it shouldn’t matter that my mum definitely isn’t italian. She’s Vietnamese. However I don’t think her being in possession of a kick-ass tiramisu recipe is a completely weird thing because many of her vietnamese recipes are heavily french influenced, and Italy is right next to France, so….you know what I mean? However I’m quite certain that she never grew up on mascarpone cheese. Or any cheese. Sad face.
Quarter This Addictive Tiramisu Recipe If You Don’t Plan On Sharing It Otherwise You Will Somehow Eat This Huge Thing By Yourself
Pitting Cherries Is A Total Bitch Without The Right Gadget But This Chocolate & Cherry Clafoutis Will Be Worth The Frustration
There are two things that scare me. The first is clowns because they’re fucking creepy, especially when one tries to hit on you and then follows you around and you can see the psycho lurking in your peripheral vision everywhere you go. The second thing is over-baking cakes. Once you’ve over-baked a cake, you’re kind of screwed. The worst is when you have no choice but to serve it up and pretend your cake was meant to have the taste and texture of styrofoam. Everyone eats in awkward silence and all you can hear is the chinking of cake forks on plates and you can see the effort of their chewing and forcing themselves to swallow, like….uh…well I guess it’s similar to when you’re forcing yourself to swallow anything. And the reason for silence is because they literally can’t speak due to the lumps of dry cake stuck in their throats. Sometimes not even a thick layer of frosting or ice-cream can save it. The worst, I tell you. Even worse than stalker clowns.
Chocolate Rice Krispies Bars With Ovaltine And Milk Chocolate Bavarian Cream, You Are A Mouthful (Literally)
You may recall that I have already blogged about these in Version 1.0 of my blog and discussed their amazing qualities in great detail. If you are seeing these for the first time, they are the best thing to come from a marriage of Rice Bubbles and Ovaltine. And for those of you who do not have a relationship with your oven, you’ll love these because they don’t require any baking at all. But please tell me you are at least capable of mixing stuff together.
If This Creamy Glistening Mango & Passionfruit Caramel Tart Is Not Serious Food Porn Then I Don’t Know What Is
I am that weirdo you see at the greengrocer just standing there with a mango held right up to my face, sometimes two mangoes. There’s something about a big pile of mangoes that makes me want to touch them and smell them and have my evil way with them. And by this I mean eat them. I just want to be clear on this in case you think I have some kind of kinky mango fetish.
It might be winter here in Sydney, but there’s plenty of blue sky and sunshine which means certain people* are choosing to wear shorts and singlets and thongs. It’s a trap because it may look lovely and warm but it’s actually only 10 degrees which according to Australians is bloody freezing cold (personally, anything under 20 degrees feels sub-arctic). Of course, just because it’s cold doesn’t mean the rays of sunlight are any less capable of roasting you whole if you’re not careful.
* You live in Bondi and/or you’re a British tourist.
Recently I somehow managed to convince my charming friend Nic to order deep fried calamari coated in salted egg yolk, mostly out of curiosity on my part and also because I love any damn thing made with egg yolks. I must thank him for not outright rejecting that rather unusual choice, but anyway the risk paid off – they were strangely morish, which shouldn’t have been a surprise given my love for calamari, egg yolks, and deep frying, but they seriously looked like giant luminously orange cheese Twisties. I would totally eat a plateful again now, proving that sometimes the freakiest looking things are sometimes the most delicious. I must admit that my willingness to eat interesting things is probably mostly due to being Asian. Or possibly I’m always just hungry enough to eat anything.
Two words which make me think of my childhood: condensed milk. We always had a can of it in a green plastic container on our kitchen counter, mostly for making a Vietnamese coffee (best coffee in the world, btw). This might also be the reason that I’m only 5’3”. Or genetics, whatever. I’ll always remember our old bitch of an electric can opener that would leave the edge of the can sharper than a samurai sword, so getting into that condensed milk carried a sense of danger as well. None of this easy safe pull-ring business that they have nowadays. No wonder kids these days are so soft – I blame ring-pull cans. And also the internet, because they’ll never feel the pain of having to trek all the way to the library to photocopy pages out of encyclopedias for school projects.
The first time I ever tasted cheesecake was KFC cheesecake. I’m showing my age because many moons ago, before some Gen Y marketing person decided the name had too many syllables to remember, KFC was always referred by its full name, Kentucky Fried Chicken. If you didn’t know this then you were probably born in the 90’s and have never bought a cassingle in your entire life. You might not have also known that KFC also used to have lemon cheesecake, chocolate mousse, buttery corn cobs and tangy bean salad on their menu because they have now been replaced with that hideous popcorn chicken crap and crispy strips bullshit. But I remember the lemon cheesecake in its little single serve tub being delightful, so vividly yellow and probably made entirely from synthetic ingredients. I then graduated to cheesecakes from The Cheesecake Shop, a tacky yet glorious place where if you wanted only half a cheesecake they would cut a whole cake in half, foil tin and all (yes they came in foil tins). This story is making me sound like I grew up in a trailer park but I assure you I had a totally decent upbringing.
Crack Pie Is As Sassy As It Sounds And Will Make Your Kitchen Smell Like Diabetes But In A Really Good Way
I have something of extreme life or death importance to ask of you. It’s about pies. We all need to band together and make Pies the new Macarons which were the new Cupcakes which were the new Donuts which were the new Brownies. Apparently the prediction is that Marshmallows are going to be the next big thing but I’m not down with that shit. Marshmallows belong in rocky road or toasted on the end of dirty sticks in a campfire, not as an actual dessert for God’s sake. I mean really, what kind of cruel joke is this? We need to nip this in the bud before some poor hapless moron opens a marshmallow shop thinking that he’ll soon retire in the Bahamas with the imaginary wealth made from his stupid marshmallows.
Butterscotch Glazed Banana Cream Éclairs Are The Best Five Words You Will Hear Today Or Maybe Even This Week
Can anyone tell me why it’s creepy to eat a banana and make eye contact with someone at the same time? I mean I know why, but why only bananas? I feel so sorry for bananas and their porno reputation when there are clearly other foods out there that are more deserved of the title. I’m looking at you, Sausages.