Archive for March, 2010
Scottish Sweeties Part 4: Tray Bakes & Banoffee Pie
In order to further your understanding of British desserts, I present you with three different kinds of tray bakes and the famous banoffee pie:
Millionaire’s shortbread consists of three layers: shortbread (a very buttery, crusty cookie), a mix of toffee & dulce de leche, and chocolate. It’s obviously quite sweet, so I love it.
Tiffin is traditionally made up of cocoa, Golden Syrup (light molasses), stale biscuits and whatever else you need to use up around the house, like raisins & nuts (Scottish people are a frugal lot). It often has a layer of melted chocolate on top and requires no baking. Just mix it up and pop it in the fridge. I have no idea what the relation this kind of tiffin has, if any, to the similarly-named Indian lunch. Unless, of course, people would eat this dessert for lunch, which I can totally get behind.
I have a confession to make: I don’t like dates. They look like roaches whole, they look like roaches squished, and their flavor is meh. In the interest of cultural anthropology, I must report on the ubiquitous date square in Scotland. It tastes like you think it will.
Banoffee (banana & toffee) pie, however, is wonderful, if you get a good one. It consists of a layer of a pie shell filled with sliced bananas, toffee & dulce de leche, and whipped cream. What’s not to like?
Scottish Sweeties Part 3: Deep-Fried Mars Bar
Yes, it had to be done. I had to try a deep-fried Mars bar. Even though I’ve been coming to Edinburgh all my life and have never seen one, all my American friends kept telling me that Scottish people love these things, so I was on a mission. Here’s what you do: find a chippy (fish & chips joint), ask them kindly, and they’ll run out from behind the counter to grab a still-wrapped bar from their candy stash, which they’ll then open up, dip in batter, deep-fry, and present to you for your immediate consumption, all for around £2.
Well, I loved it. I was afraid it would taste fishy or sausagey or be tainted by some other flavor from the pile of assorted deep-fried shapes you see on their warming tray, since I’m guessing they’re all dipped in the same batter and oil. But it didn’t. No hint of fish or meat at all. I was also worried that the bar’s insides would become like molten lava, but my worries on this front also faded the minute I took a tentative bite. The inside was pleasantly warm and melty. The thin layer of batter had a nice crunch– not too greasy and it immediately adhered itself to the roof of my mouth along with the oozy caramel. So I don’t suggest trying to carry on a deep discussion about Existentialism or the many iterations of the health care bill while you’re eating. Just enjoy.
Scottish Sweeties Part 2: S. Luca’s Ice Cream Parlour
As a child, a trip to S. Luca’s ice cream parlor in Musselburgh, a port town very close to Edinburgh, was the greatest of treats. Sluca’s (my grandfather’s nickname for it), has been making the most unctuous ice cream since 1908, when Mr. Luca Scappaticcio came over from Italy and learned the craft from a Swiss sous chef (weird, right? aren’t Italians the ones who are kinda known for ice cream?). Sluca’s sundaes, especially the almighty Knickerbockerglory, are legendary, and I had to make a pilgrimage:
The Knickerbockerglory is a parfait made from vanilla and strawberry ice cream, with strawberry topping and whipped cream. The Praline Parfait is Neapolitan ice cream with chocolate sauce and hazelnuts. Both are quite tall and force you to improve your posture greatly in order to consume them. The Meringue Mess is vanilla ice cream floating in a butterscotch and freshly-cut banana soup, with a little crunchy meringue for texture. These 3 were, of course, parfaits parfaits.
At first, I scoffed at my mom’s Sticky Toffee Pudding order, as there were plenty more delightful sundaes to choose from, but she pointed out that an STP is good for my Scottish dessert research and also quite tasty, so I relented. It wasn’t sticky, so much as sweet and decadent. The cake was so moist, it sparkled like a mound of jewels. An STP’s toffee is typically made from black treacle (molasses), Demerara sugar (unrefined and brownish), and cream. Ours was quite warm, and the accompanying scoops of vanilla ice cream melted right into the toffee pool.
We brought some vanilla and strawberry ice cream home for my grandfather, who will almost certainly eat it smothered in extra-thick double cream, which I think is illegal in the U.S. My Grandpa is such a rebel.
S. Luca 32-38 High Street Musselburgh EH21 7AG Scotland 0131-665-2237 http://www.s-luca.co.uk/Scottish Sweeties Part 1: Homemade Treats
I was in my mom’s home town of Edinburgh last week to celebrate my aunt’s 50th and my cousin’s 18th b’days (Hello, Auntie Margaret & Lisa!). The baking was out of control. Check out all the desserts we had in one night of partying:
My mom made a Celtic “Hoops” roulade. For those of you who don’t know how crazy Scottish & Irish folks– actually all Europeans– actually all Earthlings outside the U.S.– are about soccer, then let this cake be your introduction to the insanity. My family worships the Celtic football team, so the decoration was green & white stripes, much like the players’ jerseys. The sponge cake was light and moist, and it was filled with fresh raspberries and cream and frosted with cream cheese icing. Heavenly. Then we had my Aunt Miriam’s delicious chocolate cake, made with Cadbury Drinking Chocolate, which not only sounds, but actually is, much better than the likes of Nesquick. Now some may say that also having lemon & chocolate tarts was just too decadent, so those people aren’t related to me. And, finally, what meal would be complete without some Butlers chocolates straight from Dublin as a digestif? I wonder where I could possibly have gotten my sweet tooth?
Philippine Bread House – The Lovely Breads
Continuing my theme of going to close-by, yet unknown (to me) towns in the Garden State, I kicked it in Jersey City this past weekend. There is a sizable Filipino population, so I naturally wanted to see what folks have for dessert:
Sapin-sapin is an egg-yellow, white, and purple layered jello-like ”pie” made from rice flour and coconut milk. I like how PBH has a separate packet of crunchy coconut bits to sprinkle on top. This way, they don’t get soggy– good thinking. The dessert itself, alas, was fairly bland. Its presentation and nice chew were its strongest features. The Kalamayhati, or glutinous rice, however, had no strengths other than the novelty of its (to quote a friend) La Brea Tar Pits-like consistency. You can see in the pictures that there were obviously bubbles while it was being made, which burst, but then retained their circular pock-marks. That, along with the pics of folk trying to fork some up, should be all you need to tell you that this was thick, gooberous stuff. I did not like! The Ube halaya, or purple yam jam (now THAT’s a good band name), was also bland, but at least had a pleasant vegetable purée texture. But the Polvoron, or powder candy, was my least favorite. Don’t let the term “powder candy” trick you. This was basically a hard, short (as in crumbly) cookie that tasted like lard. Not Crisco– animal fat. Animal fat and sugar. I shudder at the thought. Nothing wrong with lard in a Christmas pudding– it seems decadent and fitting with the season. But in an innocent cookie? Blasphemy.
PHB’s best offerings, unsurprisingly, are its breads. And oh, such breads! The Taisan mini, like a cross between chiffon cake and brioche, was so moist and light, with a wonderful spongy mouth-feel. It had butter and finely granulated sugar on top, which leant a lovely sweetness and hint of crunch. The Pan de sal, or salt bread, was not really salty at all, but rather vaguely sweet. It was soft and warm and delicious. Apparently, this bread came over to the Philippines from Spain long ago and used to resemble a French baguette, but due to a decline in the quality of wheat, it eventually became soft and poofy. I guess I like weak wheat! The Ensaymada ube, or purple yam brioche, was also excellent. It also had the fine sugar on top, but with the addition of grated cheddar-like cheese. Weird, I know. You’ve got this sweet, doughy, squishy roll filled with purple yam jam, and then you’ve got this cheesy bite. I will dream about these breads.
On a totally non-dessert note, if you’ve never been to a real old-school movie palace before, do yourself a favor and hit up the Jersey City Loews, which is surprisingly easy to get to off the Journal Square Path Train stop. I recently saw “The Third Man” there and can’t wait to return on March 27th, when they fire up “On the Waterfront.” Oh, the heartbreak when Marlon Brando famously says, “I coulda had class. I coulda been a contender. I coulda been somebody, instead of a bum, which is what I am, let’s face it.” Happy Friday!
Philippine Bread House 530 Newark Ave. Jersey City, NJ 07306 201-659-1753 http://philippinebreadhouse.com/