It has been roughly seven years since I made the bold decision to quit my job in Australia, electing to become unemployed and to take a chance at life on the other side of the world. At the time, it was one of the toughest decisions I had to make, not least because I couldn’t imagine how I could move for all of the personal possessions my twenty-something self had acquired.

I have never been one to travel lightly, so the idea of packing my life into one suitcase with a limit of 20 kg was going to be unlikely. I made my move from the land Down Under to the land of milk and honey with a half container full of cookbooks and treasured kitchen paraphernalia, all amassed during my years as a poor student and, later, a poor graduate with a ridiculously high student loan. What little spare income I had was inevitably spent at Wheel & Barrow on high-priced tableware, The Essential Ingredient for French-imported pots and pans, or even Country Road for their classy teatowels. I couldn’t imagine a future without my kitchenalia and I was prepared to pay whatever the cost to have them accompany me to my new homeland.

Upon arrival in Switzerland, the removalists unpacked all of my boxes and queried if I had forgotten to pack the rest of the apartment. Even I couldn’t believe how a lone single woman like myself had accumulated kitchen accoutrements that would be excessive for a family of six. It was ridiculous that I had even shipped my eight-seater dining table. With chairs. And with a complete dining set for eight!!

My friends might recall my “living room sale” (as opposed to a garage sale) where I was attempting to reduce my belongings (to save on shipping costs) but with the secret intention of re-purchasing later. A dear friend came to the rescue by buying up almost everything I had. But then the poor thing had to deal with my shameless self when I crawled over to her place the following day to claim back a few items which I thought I could part with (e.g. my first mixing bowl) and which made me realise that I was not very good at de-cluttering.

When it came the time to re-purchase some of these items, I made the unfortunate discovery that nearly everything was triple the cost in Switzerland, that muffin tins on this side of the world were a different size, and that some baking tins were just simply irreplaceable.

The friand tin was one such example. A friand is a French term for a little cake eaten with the fingers. In France, there is no particular mould for a friand, something which I discovered the hard way when I went in search of one. Even the near-over-flowing shelves of the gourmet destination kitchenware store in Paris, E. Dehillerin, didn’t have the friand tin which I was beginning to regret parting with. The mere elusiveness of this friand tin suddenly made me want one desperately, even if I hadn’t baked a friand in nearly a decade.

After seeing the recipe below in a recent edition of Delicious magazine, I sent a despondent email to my good friend, Shez, who promptly went to the stores and, before the week was over, there in my mailbox was a shiny, new friand tin all the way from Australia. Thank goodness for friends who understand my foodie obsession

This particular friand tin seems to be only popular (and available) in Australia, a rather curious fact which I hope someone can explain to me. It has 6 or 12 oval-shaped holes with a flower embossed at the bottom of each. When I was living in Australia, friands were commonly sold in many cafés and they were something I often baked when friends came round for a study session.

The recipe for friands in Australia is quite similar to that for a financier in France, namely that the batter is made from beaten egg whites and contains ground almonds. These little cakes are usually quite sweet and moist and are more substantial than your usual muffins.

The recipe below comes from Katie Quinn Davies. Not only is she a fabulous food photographer and food stylist, but she also has a knack for some pretty good recipes. Whilst my husband may have rolled his eyes with the addition of yet another baking tin to my bulging collection, he later declared these Lemon Friands to be the best lemon cake he had ever eaten. A big compliment from a man who rarely gives compliments. Many thanks to you, Shez! (P.S. I still owe you!!)

Lemon Drizzle Friands
Recipe adapted from Katie Quinn Davies, Delicious Magazine (Australian edition), February 2013, page 80
Makes 12

Cook’s Notes

If you do not have a friand tin, you could, of course, use a normal muffin tin.

For as long as I can remember, Easter has always been celebrated with some Hot Cross Buns in my family. Well, growing up in a bakery meant that each holiday was always associated with baked goods of some sort, but I have always held a soft spot for Hot Cross Buns. This sentiment only amplified when I moved to Switzerland and discovered that these spiced buns were not as universal as the religious festival.

Hot Cross Buns are small, spiced yeast buns and which are traditionally eaten on Good Friday. In Australia, bakeries start selling these buns almost as soon as the Christmas items have been removed from the shelves. In my family’s bakery, three varieties of Hot Cross Buns were always on offer – plain, with fruit or with chocolate chips. Of course, chocolate Hot Cross Buns are not traditional but gosh they are good!

As has been the story of my journey in the kitchen, my craving for foods not available in my adopted home country has meant lots of opportunities to cook and bake things that I would not otherwise. And so began my foray into the world of breads and yeast and endless experiments with different recipes for these Easter treats.

The recipe below is a culmination of those experiments, gathered from scribbles on post-it notes containing amendments to recipes in cookbooks and cross-referencing other cookbooks, ultimately becoming, I suppose, my own recipe.

Being a personal recipe, it responds to my expectations of a Hot Cross Bun, using a method which I find easiest for me. The spices have been amplified for more punch, the dried fruit content has been reduced to just raisins (and not too much, at that), and the method is in keeping with how I make most breads.

I hope you will enjoy this recipe

Cook’s Notes

If you do not have strong white bread flour, plain (all-purpose) flour also works well in this recipe. The texture will be a little softer and less bread-like, but the difference is otherwise not very noticeable.

You can also play around with the dried fruit content, or omit it completely for just a plain spiced bun.

The advantages of using easy blend yeast is that you can add it directly to the flour mixture without having to activate it first. If you do not have easy blend yeast, I would suggest using the same amount of dried yeast. In which case, omit the milk from the first step, and instead warm it separately until it is blood temperature (about 37°C or 98°F). Add the dried yeast to the warm milk and set it aside for about 5 minutes until it is frothy. Add this yeast mixture in step four when you are also mixing in the butter mixture and eggs. As a guide, please refer to my recipe for Fruit Loaf to see the steps involved in using dried yeast.

A trip to the Swiss mountains usually guarantees good, hearty, winter fare. After a day of heavy duty winter sports, the body is likely to crave something substantial, something loaded with calories. On a recent weekend away in the picturesque Swiss village of Kandersteg, my husband and I found it difficult to hold back when it came to mealtimes, despite the fact that neither of us had engaged in any strenuous outdoor activity which would have explained our hearty appetites. But as my husband likes to put it, some dishes taste best when served in the appropriate surrounding environment; a fondue somehow tastes better when served in the mountains in an old wooden hut where everyone is rugged up in their winter woollies.

{Cheese fondue at the Landgasthof Ruedihus}

Other typical alpine dishes include the skiing classic of macaroni and cheese with an accompanying serve of apple compote.

{Macaroni & Cheese at Hotel Victoria Ritter}

Also popular is the Käseschnitte, the heart-stopping Swiss version of a Croque Monsieur sandwich.

{A Käseschnitte (toasted cheese and ham sandwich) at Hotel Victoria Ritter}

And once you are done tucking into one of these delicious cheese dishes, you must absolutely make room for some apple fritters for dessert. These fritters have all the reminders of a hot cinnamon donut, but with a sweet apple interior.

{Apple Fritters with a Crème Anglaise at Landgasthof Ruedihus}

We found the variety of restaurants in Kandersteg to be somewhat sparse. In fact, compared to the more touristy Grindelwald, the village of Kandersteg was eerily quiet during our stay. It was only when we ventured into the forests for a hike that we were quiety relieved to find other signs of life, namely people doing cross-country skiing or tobogganing. Perhaps it is a popular destination for snow sports but not necessarily a popular place to stay?

Nevertheless, our favourite pick of restaurants in Kandersteg include:

Landgasthof Ruedihus The streets in Kandersteg might seem awfully quiet at night but this hotel restaurant is always bustling with activity inside. The downstairs area has an informal menu of classics such as fondue and raclette, whilst the section upstairs houses a fine-dining restaurant, both serving amazingly, delicious food.

Hotel Victoria Ritter We were lured to this restaurant by the “Tea Room” sign outside, indicating a warm and cosy place to escape the blistering cold outside. Sadly, there was no such tea room inside but the restaurant nevertheless had a very nice menu and the food did not disappoint.

Hotel Restaurant Oeschinensee A visit to the Oeschinen Lake is a must if you are in Kandersteg. It is an incredibly picturesque lake in the summer, nestled between the huge walls of the surrounding snow-capped mountains. In winter, the entire lake is frozen over, making for an impressive scene in itself but you can also try ice fishing if you are keen. You can reach the Oeschinen Lake by foot from Kandersteg, or by taking the cable car part of the way up and walking the remaining 30 mins or so. It is a fairly easy walk (I managed with a baby in a carrier!), although you will be walking across ski slopes and sledding runs, so it is best to have your ski or winter hiking gear on during the winter. The restaurant overlooks the Oeschinen Lake and is a welcome sight if you are tired and hungry after your walk.

One particular dish from the mountains which is neither rich nor fattening, yet very restorative, is the Gerstensuppe, or pearl barley soup. After hiking through the pictureque forest to the Oeschinen Lake, we arrived at the Hotel Restaurant Oeschinensee for some much-needed sustenance, and their simple pearl barley soup served with a smoked sausage was enough to revive the body and prepare it for the trek back down (after a generous serving of dessert and some Glühwein!).

{Pearl Barley Soup with a Smoked Sausage at Hotel Restaurant Oeschinensee}

Pearl barley soup is not particular to Switzerland, although it is a popular dish in the mountains. The pearl barley takes a good 30 minutes or so to cook and soften, but it has a wonderful way of thickening the soup as it cooks, adding some body and texture and consequently making the soup more substantial. In fact, it’s a good way to bulk up any plain vegetable soup. If you’re in a hurry to get dinner on the table, you could even speed up the cooking process by using a pressure cooker.

The recipe below comes from Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall’s River Cottage Veg Everyday, a lovely book of robust, vegetarian meals. Similar to most recipes which I lean towards, this one is easy to prepare and is full of flavour. The cayenne pepper provides a nice kick to this vegetable soup, but feel free to leave it out if you are serving young children.

If you’ve been out show-shoeing or hiking in the mountains in sub-zero temperatures, this is the soup you want to come home to. Instant comfort in a bowl.

Pearl Barley Soup
Recipe adapted from River Cottage Veg Everyday by Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall
Serves 4

Cook’s Notes

The original recipe calls for parsnip instead of potatoes. Use whichever is available to you, but potatoes will make this soup a little bit more filling.

To make the croûtons, simply slice some stale bread into 2cm (1 inch) cubes. Heat some olive oil in a large saucepan over medium-high heat and fry the bread, turning them frequently so that all sides become golden and crisp. The croûtons hardly take any time to cook so don’t leave the pan unattended as they can burn very quickly.

As an Australian married to a Frenchman, could there be a more perfect cake to represent the union of our two cultures than the madelamington, a French madeleine dressed up as an Australian lamington? No, I didn’t come up with this name, but I am rather disappointed that I didn’t coin this term myself. In fact, as a frequent baker and consumer of madeleines and lamingtons, I wonder how the idea of marrying these two cakes had never occurred to me.

It was precisely this recipe in Rachel Allen’s new book, Cake, which prompted me to buy the book. Not that I really needed a recipe – I could have used my go-to madeleine recipe and the chocolate icing from my lamington recipe. But the idea of the madelamington itself was so cute that I was sold on the book.

As far as madeleine recipes go, this particular recipe was good, but didn’t produce the moist and cakey madeleines that I expected. Upon comparing Rachel Allen’s recipe to my regular recipe, I found that the ingredients were more or less the same (only the ratio was altered), but that the method was slightly different. The recipe which I usually use requires you to rest the batter for at least an hour, thereby allowing the gluten to relax and for the batter to become thicker in consistency. This resting period would give rise to a cake with a more delicate, moist and spongey texture than if you were to skip this step.

And whilst the melted chocolate provided a quick and simple coating for the coconut to adhere to, I think a proper chocolate icing (like that used in my lamington recipe) would have made them taste closer to a lamington.

Overall, while the idea of a madelamington is really cute, I think some tweaks here and there would make this the perfect sweet treat.

Happy Australia Day everyone!

Madelamingtons
Recipe adapted from Cake by Rachel Allen
Makes about 12 madeleines, depending on the size of the madeleine mould

Cook’s Notes

One deviation from Rachel Allen’s recipe which I took was to omit 25 g (1 oz) of dessicated coconut from the batter. Lamingtons typically do not have coconut in the sponge cake but I imagine that these cakes would have still tasted lovely with this addition.

With Australia Day approaching, my thoughts have been turning to traditional Aussie cakes and pastries, and these Chocolate Coconut Bars are hard to go past. Perhaps these slices are not what one would think of eating on Australia Day (lamingtons are more common), but this classic recipe from the Australian Women’s Weekly is one which I have grown up with and I was only too happy to be reminded of it recently when the recipe was posted on the AWW’s Facebook page.

True to the style of the Australian Women’s Weekly, this recipe is a doddle to make and uses ingredients which you are likely to have in your fridge and pantry. There are no fancy ingredients required here – the chocolate component is derived from cocoa powder. But, as always, some good quality cocoa powder would be recommended to make these slices extra special.

Once you discover how quick and easy these slices are to make, you will be looking for excuses to make them again and again. In fact, I might make another batch myself …

As much as I would love to be back in Australia right now, sitting on the verandah in the blistering heat with a glass of cold Tiro Pink Grapefruit and in the company of my friends who I miss so much, I am content to be cosied up in my warm apartment in Zurich, sipping a cup of tea with a slice or three of these Chocolate Coconut Bars. Outside, the snow is casting a thick white blanket over the streets below. Australia Day this year looks to be a cold one!

Chocolate Coconut Bars
Recipe adapted from The Big Book of Beautiful Biscuits by the Australian Women’s Weekly

Cook’s Notes

According to the AWW Facebook page, the (new) vintage edition of Big Book of Beautiful Biscuits will be released in March 2013.

Regular readers of my blog will know that I had a love affair with The Little Paris Kitchen in 2012. I loved the TV show, the recipes, Rachel Khoo. Despite having been a consumer of French food since I was a child, I was never as inspired to cook it until Rachel Khoo hit our screens with her fresh take on the old French classics.

Though, that’s not to say that every recipe I have tried has been a success … I had set out to blog about quite a few recipes from her book, only to find that some of them did not turn out so well. But in the hope that my findings might help others, here are a few reviews (please excuse the photos … most were taken just seconds before eating!).

Bacon and Egg Tart (Quiche Lorraine)

Merely looking at the simple list of ingredients for this recipe would have one guessing that this quiche is quite simple in flavour.

Rachel Khoo is quite strict in her introduction to this recipe, stating that, “Quiche Lorraine should only be pastry, cream, eggs and bacon. No cheese, no onions, nor any extra flavours … A quiche is basically a savoury custard tart. Add bacon and you have quiche Lorraine; add some Gruyère cheese and you have quiche Vosgienne.”

All quiches I have made have always had bacon, cheese, mustard, chives and/or a myriad of other ingredients added. So when attempting Rachel Khoo’s pared down and authentic version of Quiche Lorraine, I expected the end result to not be packed with flavour as my usual recipe.

The pastry was somewhat on the sweet side for me, which is not surprising given that it contains a teaspoon of sugar. But it was, nevertheless, a nice pastry which held up well upon baking.

The quiche itself was enjoyable, but hubby and I both agreed that we have perhaps been corrupted by more flavourful and exotic quiches, even if they were wrongly labelled as Quiche Lorraine. This particular recipe is perhaps a good basic recipe for a quiche from which you can add other ingredients and flavourings, if you wish.

Celeriac and Apple Salad

This is a gorgeous salad, and one which I made over and over throughout the summer. I love apples in salad and this one did not disappoint. The tartness of the apple went really well with the earthy flavours of the celeriac, spruced up with a punchy mustard vinaigrette.

This salad lends itself well to picnics as the apples and celeriac can be dressed in advance and will not go soggy like lettuce would.

This recipe is definitely a keeper.

Chocolate Lava Cake with Salted Caramel Filling

Chocolate lava cake, gooey chocolate puddings, chocolate fondants, moelleux au chocolat … whatever you call them, they are a frequent feature in our home.

Salted caramel seems to be all the rage lately and I must confess to being a real salted caramel junkie. And when I discovered that salted caramel was thought to originate from Brittany in France, I was even more excited that I could show an interest in something from the area where my in-laws live.

Alas, none of them had ever tried salted caramel sweets, nor ever made salted caramel at home. In fact, it bemused them to read in my Australian foodie magazines that Brittany was famous for its salted caramel, especially since it is rather hard to come across in the region. Sure, some Breton crêperies serve their dessert crêpes with salted caramel sauce, but such a sauce is not exactly a house specialty (it comes out of a squeeze bottle) and is often listed somewhere at the bottom of the menu.

My mother-in-law made crêpes for dessert one evening and I generously offered to make a salted caramel sauce to serve alongside (using the tin of Lyle’s golden syrup which I had tactfully gifted to her that trip), only to discover that the jar of strawberry jam, and even the bowl of sugar, were more popular accompaniments than my homemade effort. Oh well.

Anyway, I digress … I’m happy to believe that salted caramel originates from somewhere in France, just perhaps not from the area (or street) where my in-laws live (that or they need to get out more ).

So combining my love for salted caramel with chocolate pudding sounded like heaven to me. I was tempted to make my usual gooey chocolate puddings (using a faithful recipe from Nigella) and fill it with my usual salted caramel sauce (another Nigella recipe), but Rachel Khoo made her recipe look simple enough that I was willing to give it a try.

And what a disaster!

The chocolate puddings themselves were straightforward to make. Her salted caramel filling left me cursing.

The recipe instructs one to make a caramel by sprinkling a thin layer of sugar on the bottom of a saucepan, letting it melt before adding more sugar and repeating the process. The goal is to make a caramel until it is “almost a Coca-Cola colour”. I don’t know about the Coca-Cola in your part of the world, but I know Coca-Cola to be dark-brown, verging on black. My instinct told me that a caramel that colour would taste very bitter and, well, burnt. And I was right. It tasted terrible. But maybe once the cream and salt was added, everything would taste better? Not really.

The recipe then instructs one to pour the caramel into a dish and “leave to cool a little”. In the show, Rachel Khoo actually puts the caramel into the fridge, but because I was in recipe-reading-mode, I left it to “cool a little” before proceeding with the rest of the recipe, namely to fill the piping bag with the sauce and to then squirt the sauce into the chocolate puddings.

And against my better judgment, I discovered that filling a piping bag with warm/hot caramel sauce was frightfully messy, if not totally unmanageable. Moreover, as the sauce was still quite warm, it had no intention of being piped into the centre of a cold chocolate pudding; it preferred to swim on top. Not quite the effect I was hoping for. After all of that pfaff in the kitchen, the salted caramel topped chocolate puddings were expectedly quite bitter from the burnt caramel sauce and were not at all what I was wanting to sit down to at dessert.

I am usually a more instinctive cook but was hoping that following Rachel Khoo’s recipe in this instance would teach me some new or different skills in the kitchen. It could totally be a case of me stuffing up this recipe, but I think her recipe could be improved with clearer instructions. First, her method of making caramel from melting just sugar in a hot pan (no water added) is not the easiest way to make caramel and lends itself to a higher risk of being burnt. Second, cooking the caramel until it is “Coca-Cola colour” is perhaps too long a time-frame; I think one should aim for something 10 shades lighter than Coca-Cola, or Nigella’s description of “gold to dark amber”. And third, the caramel should be left to cool completely (possibly in the fridge) before one attempts to pipe it into the chocolate puddings.

Thankfully, I only attempted to fill two puddings with the salted caramel sauce and was still able to bake the remaining puddings (just as they were) the following evening. I can’t quite recall how they tasted – I think I was still a bit traumatised from the salted caramel disaster.

Vanilla Cream with Caramel Sauce (Crème Caramel)

One of my guilty pleasures is shop-bought crème caramel. As far back as I can remember, my mum used to always keep some crème caramel in the fridge for a quick dessert after dinner. Growing up, I’m sure she counted it as part of my daily dairy intake.

For so long, crème caramel was never a dessert which I ever contemplated making at home. I always felt it was a dessert that one ordered in a posh, French restaurant or plucked off the refrigerated shelf at the supermarket.

But one day, in an attempt to impress a work colleague which my husband had invited over for dinner, I set about making crème caramel, figuring that, if it didn’t work out, I would still have time to pop down to the local pâtisserie to pick up a back-up dessert. Besides, the French frequently serve shop-bought cakes for dessert and make no apology for it.

The recipe for the crème caramels start off with a caramel, similar to the Salted Caramel Filling for the Chocolate Lava Cakes above. Having learnt my lesson from that experience, I still proceeded to make a caramel by melting sugar in a hot pan, but I aimed to cook it only until it was golden amber in colour, taking it off the heat long before it reached a “Coca-Cola colour”. Nevertheless, each addition of sugar to the pan meant that the already melted sugar continued to darken in colour, and the end result was still a bit darker than what I would have liked.

The rest of the recipe was, thankfully, rather straightforward, requiring one to make a custard, fill the ramekins (lined with some caramel), and then bake in the oven in a roasting tin filled with water.

The recipe states to bake the custards at 110°C for 30-40 minutes “or until the cream is set around the edges but still slightly wobbly in the middle”. It took a good 1 hour and 40 minutes of baking before I decided to increase the temperature to 150°C for about 10 minutes until the custards were set and had achieved the right state of wobbliness. I was somewhat nervous that the extra baking time was going to affect the taste of the crème caramels, but a quick taste test about an hour before our guest arrived calmed any nerves. They were absolutely delicious! The caramel was perhaps a bit on the bitter side, but not overly so. Our guest was suitably impressed to be served with a homemade crème caramel and I was able to tick off another recipe from my extensive to-cook list.

Now that I have attempted to make crème caramel at home, I would definitely make it more often from hereon and perhaps by-pass the shop-bought variety. Whilst the cooking time which I encountered could be due to various factors such as my oven, the size of my ramekins, the thickness of my ramekins, etc., I think I will experiment with a few other recipes.

Pistou Soup

A pistou is a French version of the more commonly-known Italian pesto, except that it does not contain pine nuts nor parmesan cheese. I was attracted to this particular recipe because Rachel Khoo makes a Vietnamese pistou to serve with this chunky vegetable soup. Her Vietnamese pistou is made using Vietnamese basil, lemongrass, chilli and oil.

Some Asian herbs have the misfortune of having multiple names (e.g. coriander vs cilantro) or are simple incorrectly labelled most of the time, with Vietnamese basil falling into this latter category. In the TV episode, it looked like Rachel Khoo was using Thai basil, but it could have perhaps been Vietnamese mint (which is not Vietnamese basil …). Anyway, I settled on using Thai basil as it is one of my favourite herbs and I had a hunch that it would taste great in this Vietnamese pistou. And I was right. This Vietnamese pistou is packed with flavour and brings instant zing to whatever you are serving it with.

Sadly, the vegetable soup itself was terribly bland. I guess you can call this soup a French version of the Italian minestrone, and whilst I wouldn’t normally need a recipe to make such a soup, I did follow Rachel’s recipe closely for the sake of trying something new. Perhaps the vegetables I was using were not at their peak, or perhaps it was due to the absence of stock in the soup (Rachel’s recipe uses only water), but the soup did not wow me at all. And unfortunately, even the Vietnamese pistou could not rescue this soup.

So whilst Rachel’s soup was quickly pushed aside, I did find that the Vietnamese pistou was delicious stirred into some Cream of Tomato & Potato Soup. This Vietnamese pistou is definitely an exciting way to introduce Vietnamese flavours to other dishes.

In the book, Rachel writes that this Vietnamese pistou is a homage to her favourite Vietnamese restaurant in Paris, Le Grain du Riz. When hubby and I were in Paris over the summer, we made our way across the city to try out this particular restaurant instead of heading to the 13th arrondissement as we often do for our fix on Vietnamese cuisine. Sadly, on a bustling Friday evening when activity could be seen on every corner of Paris, Le Grain du Riz was closed. We weren’t sure if they were simply on summer vacation or if they were no longer in business. I was disappointed and hungry, from both arriving at a closed restaurant and from reminders of the unsuccessful recipe in homage to this closed restaurant. Oh well.

Looking for my other review of recipes from The Little Paris Kitchen? You can find them here:
Bouef Bourguignon with Baguette Dumplings
Chicken Dumpling Soup
Coq au Vin Skewers
Croque Madame Muffins
Meatballs in Red Wine Sauce
Pot-au-feu

Happy New Year everyone!

We welcomed in the New Year with our lovely neighbours over good food, wine and smelly cheese, followed by a spectacular display of fireworks over Lake Zurich. The following day, we headed to the mountains of Grindelwald for a change of scenery. Anyone who has watched the classic Clint Eastwood film, The Eiger Sanction, will be somewhat familiar with the famous Eiger mountain that dominates Grindelwald. Unfortunately, I never made it to the ski slopes on this occasion, mostly due to lethargy brought on by round-the-clock feeding and midnight partying at the Little One’s request. That said, despite our initial hesitations about travelling with such a young baby, we had such an enjoyable and relaxing time that we ended up extending our stay.

Quite often when on holidays, eating out at restaurants several times a day for several days in a row can be tiring and make one homesick and anxious for a home-cooked meal. But when you are a new parent, sleep-deprived and out of ideas for one-pot and super-quick dishes, eating out happens to be a real blessing.

Like most popular ski resorts in Switzerland, Grindelwald boasts many good restaurants featuring local fare and hearty cheese dishes to replenish your energy levels after a day in the snow. Our favourite place was the Bäckerei-Konditorei-Café Ringgenberg, a casual eatery which we frequented each morning for a late breakfast (often because we were too tired to make it on time for breakfast at the hotel) and we sometimes even lingered long enough to stay on for lunch.

The café is attached to a bakery which produces a sumptuous array of breads and pastries to satisfy a good continental breakfast, and their lunch menu is appetising to those seeking either a light meal or something more substantial. They serve a very delicious and hearty goulash soup – it was so good that I forgot to take a photo on the three separate occasions that I ordered it for lunch, greed taking priority over publishing. And their toast sandwiches were also delightful. Perhaps my foodie standards are slipping somewhat if I am suddenly critiquing toast sandwiches, but when something simple is made so well, it’s hard to be snobby.

And just look at how cute they are …

If you are looking for other restaurant recommendations in Grindelwald, some places to try are:

Bistro Memory A casual restaurant with lots of rustic charm. A shared fondue and a glass of Glühwein makes the world a better place.

Restaurant Barry’s Although this restaurant is located in the city centre, the interior could fool you into believing you were in some cosy ski chalet, albeit a fairly large and trendy one. Try their varied options for Cordon Bleu or perhaps something from their “light” menu if all the cheese is giving you too much speed on the slopes.

Restaurant Challibar Hubby declared their Älplermagronen to be the best pasta dish he’s ever eaten.

Restaurant Rendez-vous A bustling restaurant with a varied menu. Their veal escalopes with mushroom sauce, served with pasta, is a nice change to the more heavier dishes.

What I also love about this time of the year is the food associated with the celebration of the Epiphany. I love the Galette des Rois which is produced in abundance by the French bakeries, but I particularly enjoy the Dreikönigskuchen (or King’s Cake) which is popular in the German-speaking part of Switzerland. This particular “cake” is actually a bread made from brioche dough with a little token hidden inside one of the buns, the finder of which is crowned “King” for the day.

{A Dreikönigskuchen from Sprüngli, made with a rich brioche dough with a base filled with a paste made from ground nuts}

{A Dreikönigskuchen from Bäckerei Ringgenberg filled with raisins}

It’s just a shame that Dreikönigskuchen is available for such a limited time because I know I could sit down to a bun or two everyday at breakfast.

As for culinary resolutions for 2013 … I believe I still have to tick off some items from last year. Although, my short term goal is to re-enter the kitchen after a much-needed break since giving birth. My dear husband has, in the interim, been grateful to have had full command of the kitchen, churning out an amazing array of dishes that, quite frankly, puts me to shame and threatens my return to the stove. If I don’t pick up my act soon, he might even take over this blog!

Stay tuned for some new recipes as well as a further review of The Little Paris Kitchen as promised in this post.

Do you have any culinary resolutions for 2013?

My husband and I are delighted to announce the arrival of our first child, a healthy and bouncing little boy, in late November. He has inherited his mother’s love for sleep and eating, except, of course, his mother has been doing little of either in recent weeks

In preparation for his arrival, I had lined up several posts in readiness for publishing on this blog in the coming months, but pregnancy is so often fraught with periods of distraction (particularly nesting in the third trimester) that my to-do list soon became a to-do item in itself. And since the Little One’s birth, I’m not even sure where that to-do list is anymore …

But as our Little One is approaching one month old (didn’t we just bring him home from the hospital??), bits and pieces of my former life are reappearing and I suddenly feel a sense of normality returning, if only very briefly. So I am stealing a moment right now to try and quickly post something, not to mention that I even found time to do some food photography this morning! Amazing how little sleep one really needs to function

Christmas for us is often spent with family in France. But due to our Little One’s arrival at this time of the year, we are looking forward to not only our first Christmas together as a new family, but our first Christmas in Zurich. There has also been some relief in the knowledge that there will be no frantic long-distance travel which we have come to commonly associate with Christmas. Instead, Christmas this year has crept up on us calmy and silently. And despite being quite unprepared for the season’s celebrations due to the obvious distractions which a newborn brings to first-time parents, we have somehow managed to make last minute arrangements for Christmas Eve and Christmas dinner.

To kick off the festive feasting, I felt it was only appropriate to bake a batch of Nigella’s Christmas Cupcakes from How to be a Domestic Goddess, in part because it is quite a seasonal recipe, but mostly because I have been in need of a calorie hit (ideally in chocolate form) to help me through the round-the-clock feeds that newborns demand on their breastfeeding mothers.

Looking at my notes in my much used copy of this baking bible, it gives me much comfort to see that I have been making these cupcakes since 2001. Who knew that my first attempt at this recipe over a decade ago would inadvertently lead to a Christmas tradition of sorts in the ensuing years?

These Christmas Cupcakes are essentially moist and light chocolate cupcakes with a hint of gingerbread spice to make them seasonally appropriate. In the book, Nigella suggests frosting them with white royal icing before decorating them with some fondant icing. For something quicker and simpler, I like to make a simple chocolate ganache and to use some red berries to decorate.

However you choose to decorate these Christmas Cupcakes, they are a delicious addition to any Christmas spread. And the fact that they are simple and quick to make (I made them whilst the Little One was sleeping and whilst I, myself, was half asleep) means that you can free up more time at this busy time of the year, whether to squeeze in some last-minute Christmas shopping or to perhaps just lie back and gaze adoringly at a new little being which you have brought into this world.

Never has the phrase, “eat, little bird” been more fitting than when you have a little babe to take care of.

Christmas Cupcakes
Recipe adapted from How to be a Domestic Goddess by Nigella Lawson
Makes 12 cupcakes

A little while back, I had posted quite a few reviews on recipes from Rachel Khoo’s delightful French cookbook, The Little Paris Kitchen. For a short time, it looked like I was cooking my way through the book, and indeed I was – just a lot of the recipes haven’t made it to my blog for various reasons. Having been distracted by some events in recent months, I’m hoping to do a little catch-up here on the blog, starting with this post on Rachel Khoo’s Chicken Dumpling Soup, to be followed shortly by an in-depth review of a few other recipes from The Little Paris Kitchen.

For me, The Little Paris Kitchen has been a choice cookbook purchase this year. It’s rather rare that I am inspired to cook so much from one cookbook, even when a recipe hasn’t worked out or if I find the instructions to be a little confusing, or even when a recipe doesn’t even excite me in the first place!

When I first saw the segment on Rachel Khoo’s cooking show for her Chicken Dumpling Soup, I marvelled at how simple it looked, but I never thought I would actually try to make it; when I think of a chicken dumpling soup, I think of my mother’s version which is heady with coriander (cilantro), spring onions, pepper, chillies and lime. Now that is a soup which can comfort and chase the blues away.

But in the spirit of trying new recipes, I gave Rachel Khoo’s version a try.

As someone who doesn’t normally have homemade chicken stock to hand in the fridge, I opted for some quality chicken stock cubes. And perhaps that was the wrong foot to start on. Given that a chicken soup relies heavily on the quality of its stock, taking this shortcut was perhaps not the best idea as chicken stock cubes are often quite heavily flavoured and are not as subtle as when homemade. But having used stock cubes for my soup base, this recipe was rather a breeze to make.

The chicken dumplings were very quick to put together. The ingredients are simply whizzed together in the food processor into a paste, and then shaped into quenelles before being added to the soup. A quenelle is shaped like a little football and which can easily be achieved by using two teaspoons in a scooping motion. At a pinch, you could just simply dollop small amounts of the paste into the soup (the paste will be too gloopy to be handled with your hands).

The whole time when recreating Rachel Khoo’s recipe, I was itching to add some coriander (cilantro), chillies or even fish sauce in order to turn the soup into a familiar Vietnamese supper. But I persisted in following the recipe and remarkably managed to serve the soup for dinner that evening sans any Asian ingredients. When serving the bowl of soup to my husband, I think he registered that it looked familiar. But upon biting into a quenelle, he looked at me with a confused expression.

“It’s French”, I told him.

“Where’s the coriander?”, he asked. “No chilli?”

“It’s French”, I repeated. “Do you like?”, I asked, somewhat hopeful that he was pleased that I had made an attempt at his national cuisine.

“I might be having dinner with work colleagues tomorrow night”, he responded.

So this French dish was not quite a hit in our home. Admittedly, Rachel Khoo informs that the soup is inspired by one made by her Austrian grandmother; the dumplings shaped into quenelles were perhaps the French twist to her family recipe.

I wouldn’t say that the soup tasted bad, but it didn’t taste great enough for me to make it again. This is perhaps due to some bias on my part because it looks very much like my mother’s Vietnamese chicken dumpling soup – in which the dumplings are also shaped into quenelles and the broth is sweetened with chunks of carrots – and which happens to be a staple dish from my childhood whenever someone at home felt poorly.

That said, others might find this soup to be quite pleasant as I imagine that it wouldn’t be too dissimilar to most western-style chicken soups. The dumplings are quite light but the texture didn’t appeal to me. Moreover, hubby couldn’t at first identify what he was eating. Despite the above, perhaps the whole dish would have tasted differently if I had started with a good homemade chicken stock. It’s very rare that I would make a chicken soup from a stock cube, or from a can, bottle or Tetra-pack for that matter, and I was reminded why in this instance.

If anyone else has made this soup, I would love to hear your thoughts!

Chicken Dumpling Soup
Recipe adapted from The Little Paris Kitchen by Rachel Khoo
Serves 4 as a main course

Cook’s Notes

Despite the photos which I have taken of this Chicken Dumpling Soup, I anticipated that dinner would not be very satisfactory that night. So I cooked some small pasta shells to add to the soup to make it a bit more substantial.

The food processor was hell to clean afterwards! Somehow the paste ended up in every nook and cranny of the bowl, blade, lid, etc. Be prepared to slave a bit over the kitchen sink, although I hope you will be luckier than I was.

Regular readers will know that I am a big fan of Irish cook, Rachel Allen. So when her new cookbook, Cake, was recently released, I promptly ordered it online and eagerly awaited its arrival in my mailbox. I did secretly wonder how it would compare to her other baking handbook, simply called Bake, which I have used quite frequently in recent years. But as it is not unusual for one of her books to find its place on my kitchen counter on any given week, there was no need for me to hesitate when it came to this purchase.

Her new book is filled with beautiful photography and, more importantly, great-looking recipes. I thought I had more than enough baking books on my bookshelf (well, actually, I do!), but I was pleasantly surprised to find a lot of inspirational recipes in Cake. Some recipes appear to be tweaks on those found in her earlier books, but many of the recipes will be a refreshing find for readers.

The Children’s chapter has lots of fun recipes to make for kids birthday parties, such as the cute Chocolate Hedgehog Cake or the Barbie-adorned Princess Cake. The more adventurous bakers can attempt the Anniversary Chocolate Mousse Layer Cake or even the Vanilla Wedding Cake. It is possible that the book could live up to its cover which claims to contain “every cake you’ll ever need”.

This Apple and Walnut Cake caught my eye, first, because it sounded very similar to a recipe which Nigella has in How to be a Domestic Goddess, and which I have previously attempted with some success. But upon closer inspection, Rachel Allen’s version contains wholemeal flour (which appealed to me, considering that I had some leftover from making the Tahini & Almond Cookies), and that it is covered in a brown-sugar glaze, giving this otherwise wholesome cake a sweet makeover.

It is a relatively easy cake to make and absolutely delicious to eat. In fact, I think it improves after a day or two as the glaze helps to keep the cake underneath lovely and moist. It is a wonderful cake to serve for afternoon tea or dessert, but the combination of apples and cinnamon means that it is a good contender for breakfast as well. This recipe is definitely a keeper.

Apple and Walnut Cake
Recipe adapted from Cake by Rachel Allen
Serves 10-12

Cook’s Notes

I added 2 generous teaspoons of ground cinnamon, mainly because my husband thinks you can never have too much cinnamon.

If, after 55 minutes or so, the cake is still wet in the centre and is starting to brown a bit on top, loosely cover the cake with some foil and return the cake to the oven to continue baking until the centre of the cake is fully cooked, checking every 3-5 minutes with a clean skewer.

I did find the cake to be a bit on the sweet side, especially when eaten with the glaze. That said, I would still make this cake again and perhaps the reduce the sugar content in the cake batter a little next time (the glaze is a must!).