Call me boring and unadventurous (though I’d much prefer somewhere along the lines of safe), but I am the sort who finds a great recipe, and sticks by it. In itself it might sound contradictory given that I’m a food blogger, and the very essence of a food blog pivots on the testing and sharing of a plethora of recipes. Well in case you’ve lost me, what I am more specifically referring to is the fact that I have my chosen repertoire of turn-to recipes I’ve been using as bases, or point of reference, for certain bakes. The way I see it, if a said recipe is tried and tested over countless of times, and have proven its worth amongst differing palates, it must surely has earned itself a spot for tweaking and variations.

A favourite base recipe I’ve used countless of times in experimenting new flavours and combinations has to be the much-loved and understated fudgy cocoa brownies, which has lent itself to some yummy peanut butter blondies, and snickerdoodle blondies, just to name a few. Then there is my most oft-used base muffin recipe, which I can never seem to get tired of, and have made variations with other ingredients such as different chips (butterscotch yum!), fruits (strawberries, blueberries) and spreads (Nutella, jam, peanut butter). Hence it would only seem natural that when I was craving for bread pudding the other morning, I turned to my favourite Nutella chocolate bread pudding recipe for a little tweaking.

I must have made the aforementioned Nutella bread pudding too many a time that when I told my parents there was bread pudding on the table, my mother replied with a “Nutella again?”. Fortunately though, that initial hint of dissent and somewhat disappointment (let’s just put it on record that my mom’s not as big a Nutella / chocolate fan as I am), turned into a resounding, “What was that you made? It’s different from your usual one!”. And as I found out, the secret lies in the wholemeal bread. Its grainy texture provided a nutty flavour that perfectly complemented the melted chocolate chips permeating through each crevice, allowing the bread pudding to stand deliciously on its own, unadorned.

So what about the vanilla sauce? Let’s just say that was sheer indulgence on my part, and truth be told I ended up eating the homely bread pudding for breakfast, and spoonfuls of the vanilla sauce thereafter for dessert. And thanks to that, plans of using the leftovers for profiteroles came to naught. But all for a good burp cause!

Chocolate Chip Bread Pudding with Vanilla Sauce

For bread pudding:
8 – 10 slices day-old wholemeal bread, cubed or torn into chunks
1 egg
1 cup soy milk
2 teaspoons sugar
1⁄4 cup mini chocolate chips

For vanilla sauce:
2 – 4 tablespoons sugar (depending on your preference)
1 tablespoon flour
1 egg
1 cup milk
1 teaspoon vanilla essence

For bread pudding: Preheat oven to 170°C. Place half of the bread pieces in a casserole dish to form one layer, and sprinkle half of the chocolate chips on the surface.
In a bowl, whisk egg, soy milk and sugar. Pour half of the milk mixture onto the bread pieces, then place the remaining bread pieces on top, as a second layer.
Sprinkle the remaining chocolate chips on the surface, then pour the remaining milk mixture.  Leave aside for about 5–10 minutes, for it to be fully absorbed.
Bake for 20-30 minutes. Leave to cool for about 5-10minutes. Serve with warm vanilla sauce.

For vanilla sauce: Combine all of the ingredients, except the vanilla essence, in a saucepan over low heat, whisking constantly
until the mixture thickens, and coats the back of a spoon. Remove from heat, and serve alongside bread pudding.

It is that time of the year when I rummage through my pantry (and book shelf, don’t judge) for long-forgotten and / or long-purchased-but-never-used baking ware and items. After all, it is only natural that certain baking tools get less attention than others, seeing its novelty and perhaps just the lack of occasions requiring you to whip out your blowtorch or your much-adored Elmo baking pan. And I reckon it is also only inevitable that you enter a new store, not expecting to purchase much, but end up leaving with some irresistible offers on items you may not need, but have always had on your wishlist. Right?

Case in point here would be the Nordic bundt pan I got on offer at ToTT many months ago, wrapped neatly and tucked into the depths of my bookshelf. For a small household not big on cakes, I did wonder (perhaps just for a moment) whether such a large bundt pan would be fully utilised, but after having had baked this beautiful and moist German apple bundt cake, there will no longer be any room for regret of purchase, even if it means baking this recipe over and over again.

This is one of those cakes you could either dress it up by slathering a smidgen of cream cheese frosting, or pouring a sticky caramel glaze, and bring it over for a housewarming gift, or simply enjoy it as is, with a light dusting of confectioner’s sugar, for a homey hostess cake when you have guests over for the afternoon. The cake itself is moist and bursting with apple flavour, enveloped perfectly beneath a somewhat crunchy and crisp exterior, much like a quickbread or muffin. If you’re fortunate enough to have a slice or two left over the next day, firstly, shame on you; but secondly, you’d be relieved to know that while you’d probably be missing out on the crisp crust, the cake itself will remain moist, if not even moister. Either way, you would still have people fighting over the slice(s), and if you were anything like me, it would probably get you thinking of other beautiful bundt pans you might want to add to your wishlist.

German Apple Bundt Cake
(adapted from here)

2 eggs
1⁄2 cup canola oil / olive oil
1 cup brown sugar
1⁄2 cup white sugar
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1⁄2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla essence
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
4 cups apple – peeled, cored and diced

Preheat oven to 180°C / 350°F. Grease and flour one 9×13 inch pan, or a 10-inch bundt pan.
In a mixing bowl, beat oil and eggs together until creamy. Add the sugar and vanilla and beat well.
In a separate bowl, combine the flour, salt, baking soda, and ground cinnamon.
Add this mixture to the egg mixture, and mix until combined. The batter will be very thick.
Fold in the apples. Spread batter into the prepared pan.
Bake for about 45 mins (55 mins, if you’re using a bundt pan), or until cake tests done.
Leave cake to cool before dusting with powdered sugar, or pouring a glaze.

Is it just me, or did the month of September just zoom by way too fast? And while we’re at it, I highly suspect August was its sneaky precursor of an impetus. With almost every weekend of September spent catching up with, and in my case, getting acquainted with new relatives (via extension of my first Eid as a missus), it is no surprise that the weeks had gone by in a blink. Not that I’m complaining, though. The past month(s) saw some significant changes in my life, where I have found myself looking at each day with great faith and renewed priorities, and just between you and me, I must admit that even the adverse-to-changes yours truly is feeling nothing short of sheer excitement in anticipation of things to come.

And speaking of the future, these blondies, or more specifically, these butterscotch chips blondies, my dear beloved friends, now these are the ones which will definitely keep popping up in the future. They are, to quote an over-used sentiment in reality shows, “the one to beat!”.

Fudgy, with a light caramel fragrance wafting through each bite, it’s hard not to love these crackly-crusted bars with the perfect cookie-cake cross texture. By now you should have already realised my affiliation and deep love for the ebony-and-ivory of bars (brownies and blondies), so it might not come as a surprise that I’ve found yet another keeper in my books. Hence, in my feebly persuasive attempt of a stoic ‘Fine, don’t take my word for it’, it might interest you to know that the whole pan was wiped out within a few hours, and for the first time in my adventures of epicurean escapism, I received a request from the mom to bake it again the very next day. I’m telling you, these butterscotch chips? Not only were they made for blondies, they’re totally worth the search (here in Singapore).

ps: I found my butterscotch chips in Cold Storage, after many months wait of out of stock. Leave a message if you know of any other places!

Butterscotch Chip Blondies
(adapted from here)

113 grams (1 stick / 8 tablespoons) butter, melted
3⁄4 cup light brown sugar
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla essence
1 cup all-purpose flour
3⁄4 cup butterscotch chips

Grease an 8×8 pan. Preheat the oven to 180°C (375°F).
Mix the melted butter with brown sugar until fully combined. Beat in the egg and vanilla.
Stir in the flour, followed by the butterscotch chips.
Bake for 20-25 minutes, until the surface is crackly and shiny.

]]> http://ovenhaven.wordpress.com/2011/10/07/recipe-butterscotch-chips-blondies/feed/ 27 ovenhaven butterscotch blondies butterscotch blondies 3 butterscotch blondies 2 butterscotch blondies 1 http://ovenhaven.wordpress.com/2011/08/21/ramadhan-baking-biskut-marmar-carries/ http://ovenhaven.wordpress.com/2011/08/21/ramadhan-baking-biskut-marmar-carries/#comments Sun, 21 Aug 2011 08:31:54 +0000 ovenhaven http://ovenhaven.wordpress.com/?p=2633 ]]>

Do you remember the times when you were much younger, and visiting relatives’ houses during the festive season meant so much more through the eyes of a child? Much more than rekindling familial ties and finding yourself in the midst of ‘Dah besar eh dia!’ (‘She’s so big already!) comments from grannies who barely remember your name. Much more than finding yourself standing awkwardly behind older relatives hugging and crying, exchanging forgiveness over any harsh words and mistakes, wishing you weren’t next, knowing your encounter wouldn’t be half as emotionally dramatic.

Rather, visiting relatives as a child hinges on the infamous simplistic deduction of association. Associating specific persons and homes with treats, much like that second grand-uncle’s house with the generous amount of duit Raya (monetary gifts to visiting children) given, or that third cousin’s house with the large television set for playing video games; or even associating them with eye-catching details, such as the grandma who lives alone with her seemingly 99 cats, or the auntie whose house looks and sounds like a clock shop with the different cuckoo clocks and grandfather clocks going off at the same time.

And like every other child who gets lost noticing the littlest of details in a person’s house while the adults are busy talking, I looked forward to the festive season not for the duit Raya, but rather, the wide array of cookies and cakes adorning the tables of every house we visited. I guess you could say the foodie in me started young. Whilst everyone had their favourite kuih tart, Almond cookies, and kek lapis, as a child I found it hard to resist two types of sweet treats; biskut suji (semolina cookies) and biskut marmar carries.

Till this day, I’m highly addicted to the crumbly snowy suji, and will subconsciously make a look out for it at every house I visit. Unfortunately, biskut marmar carries aren’t as popular as the suji, and when I was younger, I grew to associate it with my second aunt’s house, the only person I knew who made them. I would happily ‘park’ myself in front of the container at both my grandma’s and aunt’s house (she used to send a bottle to my grandma’s place), and took delight in biting into these peculiar-named, crumbly, buttery biscuits topped with a prettily-swirled sweet sugar icing. ‘Marmar’ means ‘marble’, referring to the marbled effect on the cookies, but last I checked, I have no idea what or who ‘carries’ referred to. Now that the aunt has stopped making them, and I have found a simple recipe that brought back nostalgia for me, these biskut marmar carries are definitely here to stay.

Biskut Marmar Carries
(adapted from here; makes about 75 – 80 pcs)

300 grams butter
100 grams icing sugar
1⁄2 teaspoon vanilla essence
375 grams cornflour
130 grams plain flour

For icing:
1 egg white
100 grams icing sugar
1 tablespoon cornflour
chocolate emulco, or colouring gel

Beat the butter and icing sugar until light and fluffy. Add in the vanilla.
Whisk in the plain flour and cornflour slowly, and beat until a soft dough is formed. Roll the dough out to about 1⁄2 inch thick,
and using a heart-shaped cookie cutter, cut out your pieces, and decorate with the icing.
Bake at 150°C for 20-30mins.

To make icing, whisk the egg white for 1min. Whisk in the icing sugar and cornflour until soft peaks.
Separate 1 tablespoon of the mixture, and add in emulco or colouring of your choice.
Using your fingertip, spread the plain icing onto the cookies.
Using a toothpick, dip into the coloured icing, and draw a marbled pattern on the iced cookie.

We interrupt the scheduled Ramadhan Baking recipe post to bring you a little public service announcement, particularly for my Muslim readers (and bakers) residing in Singapore.

Over the past couple of months, there had been quite a commotion regarding the halal certification of Golden Churn butter, a brand of butter quite popular amongst the Malay community, especially during this festive season. This was due to a finding from the Malaysian food industry, noting that the butter contained pork DNA. Whilst the issue had been clarified by Ballantyne, the company behind the brand, and thereafter been confirmed to be halal here in Singapore, a more recent investigation conducted by the Islamic Religious Council of Malaysia (JAKIM) had led the country to proclaim the butter to be of non-halal status, i.e. haram. Following the request of one of my dear blogger friends residing in Kuala Lumpur, Madame Percicilan, to spread the awareness amongst the local Muslim baking community, I decided to posit the query to our own local Islamic Religious Council of Singapore (MUIS), to hopefully clear any doubts and confusion about the two conflicting views of the brand’s halal authenticity.

The following is a statement from their representative, for your consideration.

Now, I am in no position to state which findings we should adhere to, nor am I saying who is right or wrong. I am aware that this is a sensitive issue, and I merely wanted to share with my local bakers and readers about our religious council’s stand on the debate. At the end of the day, always remember that should you have doubts about the halal authenticity / certification of a product, then you should not consume it. Wallahua’lam bissawab.

I am well aware that it has been slightly over a month since my last post, and thanks to the kind thoughts and concern by some of my readers and blog friends who dropped me a note (you know you are), I reckon a slight nudge was all it took to get me off my rear and resume sharing my bakes. You could call it a long writer-cum-baker’s block of sorts, I guess. Anyway, adhering to the mantra ‘better late than never’, here’s wishing all my Muslim readers a blessed and joyous month of Ramadhan! It has already been well into the second week of the holy fasting month now here in Singapore, and if my Twitter timeline is anything to go by, it seems that more people are keen on baking their own sweet treats for Eid, and have already begun their own oven experiments.

It appears to be the most opportune time then to kickstart this year’s edition of Ramadhan Baking, where I share some of my own ‘Eid-bakes’ experiments, as well as household favourites.

Being a huge Nutella fan, I’ve been eyeing this cake for quite some time now, but having had horrid experiences of cracked cake rolls over the years (I limit myself to attempt baking one swiss roll cake per year only), I had my trepidations. Undoubtedly, this would be half the effort (and fear), since it merely requires a fold, rather than a roll, but one can never be too sure, right?

Fortunately, this recipe allayed my fears once I saw how thick and fluffy the batter was. Besides needing to pipe the plain batter out in order to ensure the two colours wouldn’t bleed, the recipe is very much straightforward and hassle-free. The resultant rolls were fluffy, spongey,  and quickly wiped out, but most importantly, a breeze to work with for those who fear the cracking syndrome like I did. And perhaps, just perhaps, this is the nudge I need to give the much-coveted swiss roll a try next year for Eid?

Kek Tapak Kuda Nutella (Nutella Horseshoe Cake)
(adapted from here; makes 2 rolls)

3 eggs
2 egg whites
115 grams castor sugar
1⁄2 tablespoon ovalette
55 grams cake flour
1⁄2 teaspoon baking powder
70 grams melted butter
1 teaspoon vanilla essence
1⁄2 teaspoon chocolate emulco
Nutella

Whisk eggs, sugar and ovalette at a low speed, then on medium for about 8-10 mins, until thick and fluffy.
Add in flour and baking powder, and beat until combined well. Mix in the melted butter and vanilla essence.

Divide the batter into two, and add chocolate emulco to one half. Pour the chocolate batter evenly into a lined and greased 10-inch square pan.
Scoop the plain batter into a piping bag, and pipe the plain batter evenly over the chocolate batter, being careful not to mix the two.
Bake in a preheated oven at 180°C for 20-25 mins (mine was done in 15mins).

Cool slightly, then remove cake from pan. Spread Nutella over the chocolate side while it’s still warm.
Cut the cake into two, and gently fold over lengthwise.

‘Do you really have to turn everything into chocolate?’;– well, as a matter of fact, I don’t, but for all intents and purposes, I absolutely find it much too difficult to resist not to. Not that I had ever tried hard enough, I must accede. And having had worked on quite a bit of brownie orders over the past week (and not having any leftovers) certainly didn’t help with the chocolate craving, though it probably explains my bake-anything-chocolate-but-brownies specification. I wanted something with a deep chocolate flavour, yet light, and not overwhelmed by copious amount of chocolate filling or frosting. Most importantly, I wanted it fast.

And thus, my nifty and tiny 2-dollar madeleine pans (which I had purchased long ago, and completely forgotten about) came to the rescue that afternoon. Along with a recipe I had bookmarked even way before the madeleine pans came into the picture. Enthusiastic, yes?

You see, I have quite a soft spot for madeleines, but had always put off purchasing madeleine pans here thanks to the exorbitant prices, and have even succumbed to baking them in a most blasphemous yet unarguably adorable form of mini loaves. And though the taste brought me a step closer to home-baked madeleines, one can’t deny that where macarons have the much-lusted feet, and brownies have the much-adored thin crackly crust, madeleines steal the hearts of many with their elegant shell shapes and whimsical humps.

Unfortunately, as much as I was satiated with a chocolate fix that took barely half an hour from start to finish, and was assured that an inexpensive pan could hold its ground standing on the shoulders of classy giants, these chocolate madeleines didn’t quite make the cut for me on the texture front. Whilst they tasted great, and were undoubtedly easy to make, I found them more akin to mini cakelets, as of baking your favourite (cup)cake recipe in madeleine moulds, as opposed to having the spongey, slightly buttery, [almost kuih bahulu-esque] moist texture with the crisp exterior I’m more familiar with in madeleines. Perhaps a short hibernation in the refrigerator, as is usually called for in madeleine recipes, would do the trick. Perhaps I should have gone against my chocoholic guts and stuck to familiar terrains, and opted for a buttery batch of traditional plain madeleines instead. Or perhaps I should just be happy to have found the perfect light addictive snack to dunk into my mug of Milo on a late afternoon.

Chocolate Madeleines
(adapted from Donna Hay Chocolate; makes 12)

60 grams butter, melted and cooled
2 eggs
1⁄3 cup superfine caster sugar
1⁄3 cup plain flour
2 tablespoons cocoa powder
1 teaspoon baking powder

Preheat oven to 180°C (350°F).
In a bowl, whisk the sugar and eggs together until light and fluffy.
In another bowl, sift flour, cocoa powder, and baking powder.
Add the dry mixture to the wet mixture, and fold through with the melted butter to combine.
Spoon the batter into greased madeleine pans, and bake for about 10 minutes, or until the madeleines are set.
Serve plain, dusted with powdered sugar, or drizzled with chocolate ganache.

I am quite certain everyone is familiar with that feeling you get when your initial unapologetic indulgence on something decadently good (and expectedly unhealthy) meets the startling knee-jerk reality awakening which almost always lurks at the end of your hedonistic foray. And concomitantly you’ll find yourself standing at the fork of three distinct paths;– self-blame, justification, and amelioration. Or on specific occasions, the aforesaid paths simply merge as one, to be a long therapeutic journey of guilt riddance, simply put.

Self-blame: This may happen almost immediately after having had indulged in one fork too many of an irresistible cheesecake, or in the realisation that you can no longer fit into the pair of jeans or lovely dress you had just purchased a month prior to your celebratory feast (think Eid, Christmas, birthday). It will always be punctuated with “I knew I shouldn’t have!”. Justification: In the event that the self-blame lasts barely five minutes, and no tears had been shed, nor any dresses torn, a seemingly logical explanation for the indulgence will ensue. In the typical Singaporean manner, it will have a distinct “what” suffix with an exaggerated long pronunciation as though to garner empathy and support, as in “But it was my birthday what…”, or “It’s once a year only what!”. For the non-native Singaporean English speakers, the non-’what’-suffixed justification may sound more solemn and apologetic, even sympathetic. Amelioration: Should the justification be perceived to be moot, or innate self-guilt begin silently creeping in despite the aforesaid justification, steps will immediately be taken in an attempt to allay the guilt. This may come in the form of drastic and impulsive claims bearing nuances of abstinence , or  simpler steps taken to ease the burden of the guilt.

You see, I am no stranger to this journey; after the unabashedly chocoholic stance I took in regards to my belated birthday cake in the previous post, I couldn’t help but feel like I owe it to myself, and my readers, to share something less indulgent, something less artery-clogging, something perhaps even healthier. To be perfectly honest, the celebratory it’s-my-party-and-I’ll-have-sweets-if-I-want-to mood didn’t just end with the dream-worthy cake. A lattice-topped strawberry pie with the most buttery crust ensued, a couple of mini blueberry hand pies oozing dark purple sweet treats through its crevices followed thereafter, and well, to share all that just seemed a little gluttonous even for a space that carries its sweet-toothed badge with honour.

Hence, here is my offering to you. Not exactly the healthiest of breakfast choices (oatmeal/granola takes the cake for me), yet not precisely the most indulgent either, these traditional pancakes inject a little health boost into your morning with some hearty whole wheat (and a sprinkle of wheat germ, if you may), thereby ameliorating and allaying the sweet-comatosed-guilt you may have had a tad too much of. And just between you and me, with pancakes these fluffy and easy to make, I wouldn’t mind going down the guilt trip all over again.

Wholemeal Pancakes for Two
(adapted from here; makes 3 – 4 pancakes)

1⁄2 cup all-purpose / plain flour
1⁄4 cup wholemeal flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1⁄4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon white sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla essence
1⁄2 cup milk
1 egg
1 tablespoon butter, melted

In a large bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, salt and sugar.
Make a well in the center and pour in the milk, vanilla essence, egg and melted butter; mix until smooth.
Heat a lightly oiled pan / griddle. Scoop about 1⁄4 cup of batter onto heated pan / griddle, and cook until brown on both sides.
Serve warm with topping of your choice.

It has always been said, and is a proven fact, I do believe, that you are the company you keep, possibly pivoting on the simple notion of attracting people of similar energy as to that which you project into the universe. Now, if the Law of Attraction is anything to go by, then I must surely have had sent out chocoholic vibes incessantly, because ever since I  posted the left photo from the above diptych into my little Twitter universe, numerous chocoholics (loud-and-proud and closet ones alike) openly declared their support and pledged allegiance towards the same cocoa cause. Whilst I may be far from the journey to converting my household to like chocolate, let alone embrace chocolate addiction;– to be perfectly honest, I don’t even know why I bother, since it just spells a greater share for me;– it is most certainly reassuring to know I’m not the only one with a penchant for this dark beauty.

And since I pretty much decided to bake my own birthday cake this year, there was no doubt in my mind that it had to be somewhere along the lines of chocolate on chocolate with chocolate, plus more chocolate. 

Never mind the fact that I didn’t have the time to bake this on the actual day of my birthday, something this decadent and overloaded with chocolate was well worth a belated birthday treat. Or more aptly, it clearly fits the bill for making the once-a-year cut, the one where you justify over-indulgence of any gastronomical form. I adapted the recipe from two books, one for the cake layers, and the other for its much-raved icing. While I found the icing much too sweet for my liking, especially coupled with the [admittedly greedy and] generous Malteser decoration, the malt flavour of the icing came through and complemented the cake perfectly.

Question here is, did this cake set the Law of Attraction in motion, and convert my household to chocoholics? No; if anything, it merely propagates their dissent. But will it bring about fellow chocolate-lovers in unison, pledging unflinching acquiescence to the darker and sweeter side of life? Ohhhh yes.

Chocolate Malteser Cake
(adapted from Valerie Barrett’s Cakes Galore & Nigella Lawson’s Feast)

For the cake:
225g butter
225g castor sugar
80g malted milk powder
50g cocoa powder
4 eggs
200g self-raising flour
4 tbsp milk

For the icing:
250g powdered sugar
1 teaspoon cocoa powder
45g malted milk powder
125g softened butter
2 tablespoons boiling water
1 packet Maltesers, halved

Preheat the oven to 180C. Grease and line two 20cm round cake tins.
Cream the butter and sugar until blended. Add the malted milk powder, cocoa powder, eggs, flour and milk, and beat together until smooth and creamy.
Divide the mixture evenly between the prepared tins, and bake for about 30mins, or until well risen and firm to the touch. Cool in the tin for a few minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack to cool completely.

To make the icing, blend the boiling water, malted milk powder and cocoa powder together in a bowl, then set aside to cool. In a separate bowl, beat the butter and half of the powdered sugar together until creamy, then add the remaining powdered sugar and the cocoa mixture until well blended. Sandwich the two cakes together with half of the icing, then spread the remaining icing over the top. Decorate with Maltesers around the sides of the cake.

I’m sure everyone would have had one, or perhaps one too many, of those times when you anticipate your day or week to be as nondescript as the lifeless trudging of the Monday morning crowd to their little cubicled lives, only to find fate throwing a curve ball your way, sending everything in the path afore you to an instant disarray. On certain occasions, when the curve ball comes in the form of a surprise gift left on your office desk by a concerned colleague, or the large parcel of a long-forgotten online order awaiting you by the door, a little change to your day is most definitely welcomed, if not highly encouraged. On other occasions, when it comes in the form of a surprise bundle of last-minute assignments left on your office desk by a snooty superior, or the large bill on long-forgotten online orders awaiting you by the door, a little unexpected change to your day may have very well ruined your whole week.

I must be honest here; I’ve been struggling to update for some days now, with an entry deemed suitable enough in light of a news that happened quite recently in my personal life. Paragraphs of non-sequitur lines had been subject to back and forth deleting, as I stumble over the right words to express. I kept wondering, would it be inappropriate and seemingly desensitised of me to wax lackadaisically about the texture and taste of this photographed bread awaiting in my drafts folder, as though there had not been a defining change over the last two weeks, as  though there is not a change we are still learning to adapt to in the weeks to come. It is with every change though, therein lies the two sides of the proverbial coin, and more often than not, as much as it pains me to admit it, it is usually the changes we are most adverse to that we find to be eventually laced with silver linings. There is a reason for everything, even the most minute changes, and for certain, in times of faith and hope, one will eventually find that change in itself will bring about the much-needed reason.

Wholemeal Banana Bread
(adapted from here)

3-4 overripe bananas
1⁄3 cup melted butter
3⁄4 cup brown sugar
1 egg, beaten
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 1⁄2 cups wholemeal flour

Preheat the oven to 180°C. In a large bowl, mix the melted butter with the mashed bananas.
Add in brown sugar, egg and vanilla. Sift in the baking soda and wholemeal flour, and mix to combine.
Pour mixture into a greased and floured loaf pan, and bake for about 1 hour.

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