and then some

This is possibly one of the times when everything will sound pretty much convoluted and fall short of making any sense. I had tried steering away from updating when I’m feeling down in the dumps (don’t worry, I’m not going to start whining here), but I felt an obligation to recommend a recipe as well as share several tips with my dearest readers. So pardon me if I don’t sound so cheery.

Without further ado, I present to you The Brownie To Drown Your Sorrows In.

I don’t think this actually needs any introduction, really. Not by the aforementioned name, of course. But I’m sure that any Oreo-lover out there would have either had the privilege of having this whipped up in their name, or have succumbed to dire temptations and indulged in its Royal Oreo-ness within the ticks of his/her worn-out oven. I think the brownie can simply be summed up as such:

Oreo + Brownie = Love
Oreo CHUNKS + FUDGEY Brownie = Heavenly Love
Oreo CHUNKS + FUDGEY Brownie + VANILLA ICE CREAM = Heavenly Love Song

So you see, even if you prefer your brownie ala carte (i.e. without the scoop), it would be enough to embrace you with the heavenly love you need to perk up your day. But if you had with the ice-cream, you’d practically be singing away. Makes sense?

(recipe at the end of the entry)

For those who read the opening paragraph and assumed the tips were going to be kitchen-centric, I’m sorry to disappoint. Nope, nothing to do with baking at all. Rather, in conjunction with Earth Day last week, I thought I’d share with you some ideas for lil projects, involving the re-using of certain materials. Magazines, cloth, envelopes;– have I piqued your curiosity yet?

pieces of peace

The silly me just realised that Elyn had passed me a Peace award! Thank you, dearie

And since the chocolate fix I badly needed this weekend in the form of a to-die-for brownie ended up burnt because I was busy doing other chores around the house, I have no photos of a black baking tin to share.

But I’m not about to cry over burnt brownies.

And so, in typical The Sound of Music fashion, I simply remember my favourite things. Or more aptly [and in light of the award], snapshots that bring peace to me.

1. taken during a blackout the night before an exam in my final semester
2. the graduation bouquet from the mister
3. a lonely chair off Desaru, facing the South China Sea
4. Shangri-La Resort in Sabah
5. somewhere along the suspended bridge amidst a Sabah jungle (I was screaming while taking this [read: fear of heights])
6. the final morning at Desaru; the sea reaching high tide

simply the first

This afternoon was one of the very few when I had a craving for something new, something fresh, something totally non-chocoholic. That’s right, not even the slightest drip of chocolate. Or anything sweet for that matter. My palate yearned for a fuss-free bake that would bring me back to the simpler days of the mother packing me a slice of butter cake when I have the annual school sports day, or the rushed mornings when I’d just grab a couple of slices of Sara Lee’s chocolate pound cake to college.

But at the same time, I didn’t feel all buttery rich today.

Nor was I looking for anything decadently chocolate.

And with that, my mind drifted off to gateau au yaourt, touted to be the first cake French kids learn to bake. Famous for its simplicity in appearance and technique, yet versatility in flavour adaptations, the choice for this afternoon’s epicurean escapism was clear.

A quick rumbling through the bookmarks, comparisons between several yogurt cake recipes, a final tweaking according to the ingredients I had in hand, and several ‘to taste’ moments (read: rough measurements on my part), and less than an hour later, I was soaking in the evening sun with a slice of pomegranate yogurt cake, and a mug of chilled Chinese herbal tea.

And now I seriously wonder why I had been putting off baking yogurt cakes. I’ve had several bookmarked; lemon yogurt cake, blueberry yogurt cake, strawberry yogurt cake, but somehow, the temptation of baking something more intricate or sweet had always won me over. I love the subtleties in the cake. The appearance is not much to ogle at, its sun-kissed skin is unadorned with contrasting colours, and the texture is not complex nor intriguing with a combination of flavours. But you will be bowled over by the subtle pomegranate aftertaste, you will be lost in the fluffy and moist texture of the cake, and you will appreciate the right amount of sweetness of the cake.

You will definitely be seeing more variations of yogurt cakes to come. Feel free to tweak the following recipe according to your tastes, or in my case, according to what you have in your fridge.