And that's the way the cookie burns.

I've learnt one very important thing today: cookies, and people, are very pleasant when the temperature is right. It's been a horrendous day. Not only scorching outside but inside, too. Well, I've been an absolute crank in this sun. Everything's gone wrong today! My dinner turned out lousy, I've been sloppy at my internship, I've no energy to exercise and... I just burnt my yum cookies. UGH. Following this recipe, I proceeded not to follow the instructions and for some unknown reason, chucked everything into a bowl. Figuring that the crumbly mix looked horrible, I turned it into the rubbish bin (I know. I hate wasting food too but that butter can't go down me or the dog) and settled into try #2. Having never made cookies before, I had no idea how the dough was meant to turn out. Thank goodness for Skype. My baking-goddess friend walked me through all the steps while struggling through her post-wisdom-teeth-op. Talk about dedication. So, I popped everything into the oven and all was going lovely and swell... until I noticed smoke slithering out the oven. Being as clever as I am, I jumped to the oven and opened it, only to be embraced by a cloud of smoke... and the smell of burnt chocolate. Baking lesson #1: never stick a chocolate bit on the top of the cookie - It. Will. Burn. Baking lesson #2: never bake in a revengeful oven. Baking lesson #3: you've got to know your oven. Baking lesson #4: stick to shortbread.

So, the burnt cookies topped off my brilliant, brilliant day. Here's to learning from mistakes...
Yours,
The Baker's Apprentice.

Petite Fruit... Mush?

Alright. So long story short, I should stay away from pastry. Not that it didn't turn out deliciously, quite the contrary... but my god, did it look horrendous. Not only that but I came out with more flour on my jeans and in the bowl. The story began when my dad decided on a last-minute party for nine and left me in charge of dessert. Lesson #1: Never leave a beginner-baker as dessert chef. All enthused, I scoured my recipe book and decided the picture for "petite fruit tarts" looks delish and oddly simple. Lesson #2: Never believe recipe books. There I was slaving over the over for over two hours, trying so desperately to make these damn tarts look gorgeous, while ultimately the crust, instead of being beautifully shaped as it went in, came out slightly oozy on the corners. Now don't get me wrong, it was delicious, but let's just say my presentation skills need hella lotta work. Lesson #3: never think you'll be a professional chef by Week 2. Related Lesson #4: Baking is more complicated than it looks. Progress report: excluding the mini-scare with the 'lightly floured parchment paper' smoking, nothing burnt yet... except my tongue. Lesson #5: Hot butter is hot. Mind-blowing logic, that.

2 cups all-purpose flour
1/3 granulated sugar
3/4 cup cold butter
2 egg yolks, beaten
1/4 sour cream
3 tablespoons ice water
2/3 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
6-8cups fresh fruit
1/4-1/3 granulated sugar

1. In a medium bowl, sift together 2 cups of flour and 1/3 cup of sugar. Using that handy-dandy two-knife technique, just cut in the butter until the pieces are pea size. In a small bowl, stir together the yolks, sour cream and ice water. Gradually stir in the yolk mixture into the flour mixture and using your fingers (best part!), gently knead the dough until a ball forms. Cover with cling wrap and refridge that thing for an hour.

2. Preheat the oven to 375F. Divide the dough into 8 portions and on lightly floured pieces of parchment paper, roll dough portions into 6 to 7 inch circles (or in my case, square like blobs). Transfer circles, on parchment, to baking sheets. Note: the flour started to burn and smoke soooo might change that later on.

3. In a small bowl, stir together the 2/3 granulated sugar and 1/4 flour. Sprinkle a scant 2 tablespoons of the sugar mixture on each party circle to within 1/2 inch of the edges. In a large bowl, combine fruit and the 1/4-1/3 cup granulated sugar; toss gently to coat.

4. Spoon 3/4 to 1 cups of the fruit mixture into the center of each dough circle. Fold the pastry edges of the edges of fruit and bark tarts for 20-25 minutes or until fruit is tender and pastry is golden brown. If desired, dust pastry edges with powdered sugar. Makes 8 tarts.

Regardless to say, the dessert was a hit, even though the Pops kindly invited two more people than expected. Lesson #6: Always make multiples when cooking for Indians.

Yours,
The Baker's Apprentice.

A hint of the Isles... or an obsession?

So upon reflecting on last week's baking obsession, I realized a very definitely Scottish theme that ran through shortbread and lemon curd. Aaaaah, I love the Scots. During my exchange abroad in the UK this past year, I spent Christmas with a good friend of mine in the country outside Edinburgh. I'm not sure if it was the brilliant haggis, the fabulous people or the freak heavy snowfall (after all, I am Canadian) that made me feel at home. Following my heart, I decided that today's baking 'adventure' was to be scones. And what an adventure it was. Following this tempting recipe (from allrecipes.com), I proceeded to double the ingredients. The dough came out super sticky and moist, which didn't seem right to me. Being someone who loves getting messy, I got dough EVERYWHERE, much to my dog's delight. Being the very particular baker that I am, I didn't let the scones rest for ten minutes but my god, did they turn out brilliantly. I approve this recipe as a truly a fool-proof recipe, you know, me bring a fool and proof. Anyway, wish I had some lemon curd or devon cream to slather on this. Mmmmmmmmm nom-nom-ness.

Yours,
The Baker's Apprentice.

psuedo-Creme Brulee.

The overambitious me decided that creme brulee would be an excellent introduction to the world of baking. Having pulled it out from some obscure recipe book, I poured myself over the recipe, my jaw dropping an inch further with every line.

Sooo with my tastebuds yelling for lemon and my head yelling for a simpler recipe, I bargained with myself to settle on a lower price: lemon-poppy shortbread! Shortbreads always been a favorite of mine... too much so, to be sure. And oooh, this turned out divinely. The kitchen, however, did not survive the massacre. Why do recipe books make things look so clean and easy? Try it yourself, punk:

1 cup all-purpose unbleached flour
1/3 cup cornflour (such an excellent tip ripped off Joy of Cooking!)
1/4 cup of icing sugar
1/4 cup of granulated sugar
3/4 cup of softened unsalted butter (mmmm buttttter.)
2 tsp lemon zest (I just used the zest of a whole lemon)
1 tablespoon poppy seeds
(makes approximately 24; nutrition?: good for the sooooul...)

Preheat the oven to 300F. Mix the flour, cornflour and poppy seeds together (I would sift on hindsight, might make it lighter!) and add the two sugars. Scrape the lemon onto the softened butter and cut in both into the flour (sounds much cleaner than ever... use a knife to cut in, it's easier). Keep cutting (I gave up shortly and moved to my hands) until the mixture sticks slightly together. Then, roll up your sleeves, clear a wiiiide space and start gently kneading the dough by gently pressing the sides together (don't overwork it... your biscuits have to be light and crisp!). Then, roll the dough out with a floured rolling pin on a floured surface until it's approximately 1.5 inches thick and then cookie-cut it out (or use a glass as I did!). Put them about an inch apart on ungreased parchment paper on a cookie tray and shove into the oven for about 30 minutes (should be light brown top and bottom). Let it cool on a wire rack for 10 minutes (you want it crisp, remember?) before diving in!

Eeeeettt VOILA! Supaz simple, supaz fast and supaz nom nom... but my kitchen did not turn out supaz clean. Oh well. More flour on me than in the bowl. Then again, a messy kitchen adds a certain j'n'sais'quoi to cooking...

Yours,
The Baker's Apprentice.

PS:

The End.

I hate reading beginning. They're always too full of suspense and I'm always too impatient. What's the end in this one? Well, probably a very frazzled 20-something year old. What do I want to do? Bake. Having burnt boiled eggs only a few months ago (apparently, it is possible), I've decided I want to bake. To master the art of patience, creativity and nom-nomness, for lack of a better word.

This isn't a "oh-look-at-my-fabulous-food-blog,-foodies"... it's an "thank-the-lord,-my-eyebrows-are-still-on" record of my ups... and inevitable downs.

Care to join me for tea?

Yours,
the Baker's Apprentice.