Dulce de Leche Eclairs

Éclair Confiture de Lait

A few days ago I was at the cooking section of Kinokuniya bookstore. I was one of the non-Japanese minorities there, and if you've shopped there before you'd know that finding non-Japanese, non-Asian, non-white shoppers are even rarer. But there was one that day roaming, and I wondered what he was looking for. He finally settled in the cooking section and asked another shopper (Japanese female) for assistance. He was holding up the Japanese version of the lovely book Everyday Harumi and was asking her if it was a good choice to get to learn Japanese cooking, etc., even though the text was completely in Japanese (I wanted to butt in and say that it has an English version published by Conran Octopus).

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French Vanilla Flan

Flan à la Vanille

Though my trip to Las Vegas was a few years ago, a lot of what I saw there became emblazoned in my memory (and noooo, it wasn't strippers or anything like that). For some reason when I went to Paris back in 2004 (way before I learned to really love food, much less cook), I didn't go to any Patisseries. Seeing one after another in Las Vegas whet my appetite for even more Patisserie, but again I skipped something that I really wanted to try - the flans.

On the top shelf, you'll see the Flan Peche, with that irresistible deep brown burnished film on top of the custard.
I didn't really obsess about them because they weren't a standard in most of my cookbooks, which were in English, and I didn't want to make other pastry that resembled it, because I wanted to know what the real deal was like first. Right now I realize I must sound crazy. Who goes ga-ga over custard?! It's the golden film on top, I tell you...

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Tartine's Pumpkin Pie

The food culture between countries sometimes differs at the most fundamental level: for instance, how you treat a fruit or vegetable. Here in the Philippines, just like in at least Brazil, avocados are treated as a dessert fruit. It bothers me (not genuine bother, more of an amused wonderment) that people have called it a vegetable when it is clearly botanically a fruit, but also that people are surprised when it's used for desserts. Here the addition of avocados to sandwiches and salads is a recent phenomenon, and still quite uncommon at that. Guacamole was more well-known, but people in the provinces would scoff at it. What truly bothers me is how clumsily avocados are used in desserts in the Western world, like recipes for ice cream that are essentially sweet frozen guacamole. Yuck. Avocados here are very simply enjoyed by scooping out the flesh and introducing a river of sweetened condensed milk into it.

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Tartine's Pecan Maple Pie

Medical school can certainly be a strange place for people who went through college together. In undergrad, you take courses in a semi-random order you prefer, but in medical school, everyone has to follow the progression in the hierarchy. So, being naive enough to ignore this, I thought working with my friend, who was a year higher in Biology but now a medical resident (while I was an intern), would be nearly the same as it used to be. Not so. For some reason, instead of my name, she called me "dear."

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Tartine's Mango Galettes

Oh, hello again! Some of you might be wondering what hole I fell into since the last week. What happened was that my laptop finally decided it's tired of this life and severed its adapter jack from the motherboard. I guess it's served me kind of well over the last three and a half years considering in the last few months its battery no longer worked and wasn't really in stock anywhere. So, not super-portable. And since that time, I flew to San Francisco and didn't acquire a new laptop until recently. And nooo, it is not a Mac. I know some design freaks out there poo on PCs, but I don't really get the belly-aching. I work remarkably well with a PC-- we have a rhythm.

Anyway, so I'm out here, and meeting two of my faaavorite bloggers (and, since my social Venn diagram isn't super-expansive, that means they're two of my favorite people as well), Allen and Joe, and Marvin (more on those later). Without my trusty sidekick, I was able to devote a lot of time to doing fun activities with my host family's kids (my cousins), like cooking lunch, helping with the homework, and indulging the occasional need for a playmate (though chess isn't really challenging against a seven-year-old, Mario Kart on the Wii is). And then there is the simple joy of the Wii fit telling you every day to keep up the good work as you go through yoga poses in the exact opposite way you should be (screaming).

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Pineapple Lime Mascarpone Tart

"My life is very monotonous," the fox said. "I hunt chickens; men hunt me. All the chickens are just alike, and all the men are just alike. And, in consequence, I am a little bored. But if you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life. I shall know the sound of a step that will be different from all the others. Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground. Yours will call me, like music, out of my burrow. And then look: you see the grain-fields down yonder? I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the colour of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat..."

The next day the little prince came back.
"It would have been better to come back at the same hour," said the fox. "If, for example, you come at four o'clock in the afternoon, then at three o'clock I shall begin to be happy. I shall feel happier and happier as the hour advances. At four o'clock, I shall already be worrying and jumping about. I shall show you how happy I am! But if you come at just any time, I shall never know at what hour my heart is to be ready to greet you... One must observe the proper rites..."
"What is a rite?" asked the little prince.
"Those also are actions too often neglected," said the fox. "They are what make one day different from other days, one hour from other hours. There is a rite, for example, among my hunters. Every Thursday they dance with the village girls. So Thursday is a wonderful day for me! I can take a walk as far as the vineyards. But if the hunters danced at just any time, every day would be like every other day, and I should never have any vacation at all."

Those are my favorite parts of the book The Little Prince, which I realize is predictably schmaltzy on my part but you can also predict that I don't care. There are some good parts after those passages but I kept it essential-- if you haven't read the book yet, I highly recommend it. Far too many people have bought into the whole reality television illusion (The Bachelor and its kin, Rock of Love, and worst of all, Paris Hilton's My New BFF) and foolishly believe that friends and relationships can be formed instantly. You put on your best Sunday frock, make a great first impression, and bam-- you're in love. What Saint-Exupery has shown in this lovely parable is that it takes commitment for trust to form. If you suddenly dropped out-- like, say, NOT POSTING IN YOUR BLOG FOR TWO WEEKS, people will get confused, some will forget who you are, and think that you can't be relied upon. Not what I wanted to happen at all. I hope you'll understand that it's been a little difficult to write (civilization will not advance one iota until blogging is possible on airplanes). I just arrived from Akron, my first interview-- and I'll be telling you about that experience soon.

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Apple, Cinnamon, and Sultana Strudel

Apfelstrudel mit zimt und sultaninen

Happy new year to everyone! I realize that it appears I dropped off the face of the Earth, and in some respects, that's true. I tunneled through the core and ended up on the opposite side, in sunny, beachy New Joisey, and man is it hot! (Mind over matter.) One of my first thoughts as I was walking away from Newark International Airport was, "OH, MY FUCKING FREEZING FACE!!" (Little do you know that the original thought was, "... my beautiful fucking freezing face.") Pardon the profanity so early on in the year but that was me, and at the time I thought that the nerve endings in my lips had all died. They sorely needed another pair to warm them, hee hee.

But to those who thought I hadn't posted-- au contraire! I have a short essay on my other blog (opens in new window) about Christmas, which you might like to read. But the other reason I've neglected my life in the internets is because I've been working on a print project, which I had to finish before my flight, which was January 1, 7:45AM. I was working with it till almost midnight, with the fireworks polluting my sky. Of course, I was also stocking up on posts for the rest of the year, or at least the next few months. Cooking might become scarce, which makes me a little sad thinking about it, but it might be a necessity in the future-- time will tell.

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Portuguese Custard Tarts

Pastéis de Nata

Sorry if I've been away for a while (yes, 3 days is a while in our world, isn't it?). Last Saturday I got a massive headache from fatigue which was a sure sign that I'm on the edge of illness so I took it easy the next day. The good news is that it worked.

Now, what was I sick about? Oh, yeah, I went from mall to mall and virtually spent the remainder of the time in a car. I obviously love to shop but I like to do it at a leisurely pace, at only one place, and in a relatively quieter area. But of course, you won't get any of that these days, as there's only 2 weeks till Christmas. I'm all for the spirit of Christmas-- giving, sharing, spending time with family, being thankful for my blessings-- but not this mad rush. And it's not just about the materialism. Even when I look at the offerings they have on the shelves, it's one of three things-- expensive, ugly, or uninspired. Here's an excerpt of an e-mail I wrote to a friend of mine:

I suppose I would enjoy shopping more (and really, I normally do) if I had money to buy gifts for my family. Everything seems either expensive or ugly. Nothing is calling to me, inspiring me to buy it because the recipient would really like it. Everything seems rushed, fake, ordinary, unnecessary. I swear, I'm going to shove wads of money into envelopes and give them away on Christmas.

And here is my friend's (partial) reply to that:

Your expensive/ugly/uninspiring gifts thing finds resonance here. I hate how the shelves are suddenly laden with all the trash that nobody would buy as gifts under normal circumstances (here he proceeds to name a few hilarious things which I WON'T share with you because it's too mean/might hit a nerve). And people will buy them and give them without a flicker of concern that the gift was a duty.

It'll be my birthday in two days (the not-so-big 2-7). I remember when I was very young (in "Prep", the grade level between Kindergarten and First Grade-- dunno what the system is now), I made the "mistake" of telling my teacher that it was my birthday (shouldn't she have known?). She gave me these tiny horse figurines (at least two of which I still have here). When I'd told my parents about it, they very gently told me not to go around telling people it's my birthday next time, because they'd feel like I was asking for loot.

The truth is, I think I've come to a point where I don't get too excited about my birthday or Christmas, at least not for the gifts. I feel incredibly lucky to have the blessings that I do on a daily basis, and content with whatever I have. Gifts are pleasant surprises-- extras. I feel like I annoy plenty of people (parents included) when I'm asked what I'd like as a gift, and I say "nothing, it's okay." Because it is okay. And I annoy even more people when I receive gifts like it's the most fantastic thing that's ever happened to me and I end up embarrassing them by gushing too much. But friendship and love? That's enough. Maybe that's more precisely what I'm excited about.

On that note, I'd like to gush like a fool for the gifts my dearest Deeba sent me all the way from Gurgaon-- SPICES, baby! It was a very fragrant day when DHL stopped by my front door and gave me a bag full of lovely things: saffron (ooooh), garam masala, darjeeling tea, raita mix, and special cloves. (No, "special" isn't code for anything, you naughty things!) From the bottom of my heart, thank you (embarrassing you yet?), and may your days be filled with passion-- for baking!

Burned, baby, burned!

Pastéis de Nata
Warning: if these aren't one of your favorite things already, be prepared to add it to the list... I essentially followed Duncan's excellent recipe here almost to the letter, with a few adjustments:

1. Since I wanted to replicate the pasteleria experience and used disposable (yeah right) foil pie pans (actually I think they're really baked in individual pans and sold naked) that measured 11cm diameter x 2cm high (4-1/4" x 3/4"), I baked them for only 6 minutes.


2. My oven does too good a job at broiling and warps my precious baking sheets. I instead used a turbo broiler. Mine could only reach 250°C (480°F) but it's a convection cooker, and probably the best way I have at home to achieve the delightful brown spots you usually find on top. I only achieved it partially, but I didn't want to curdle the custard or burn the pastry, so I stopped short of that.


3. I used my thumbs to squish the pastry into the form as thin as I could, getting it almost to the rim.


4. I used ready-made puff pastry since it's not really possible to make it in this climate. I used a single 24cm (9.5") square. However, it was only about 2mm (between 1/16 and 1/8 inch) thick, so I cut it into two rectangles and stacked them on top of each other (forming a single 12x24cm rectangular stack) and rolled it up as per the instructions. I was able to make five tarts this way.


5. You'll notice it doesn't rise quite as well. My puff pastry is more than a year old, ha ha ha! Tasted great though :P


6. The custard in Duncan's recipe is good for 10 tarts if using my pan size.


7. I tried using a blowtorch (yeah, baby) to create the dark areas but I ended up making a charred, rough surface. Tasted the same but I wouldn't do it again: my intended result was a shimmering surface, with the char appearing to come from under the sheen. Obviously the flame of a blowtorch is too harsh to accomplish this.

Oh, PS (if you're still reading), I passed the Step 2 CS exam (what I went to El Segundo for). Residency interviews, here I come!

Panna Cotta Tart with Cocoa Glaze

I wanted to get this done just in time for Holly's You Want Pies With That? blog event so I hauled ass and made this tart yesterday. I know I'd JUST promised during my last post to put the socio-political discourse on hold but I have a little bit here, if you're interested.
I don't know why I tuned to it from day one but Project Runway is a show that I make a point not to miss. I don't think the time will ever come when I'm able to actually make clothes (or even sew-- never done it before), but I like seeing creative people fly by the seat of their pants and actually come up with interesting, fantastic designs. Somehow my artistic spirit, which every now and then I believe I've killed for good with all my studying, gets a little inspired. A few months ago I even came up with a dessert (Temptation Tower) that was inspired by an avant-garde challenge on Project Runway (click here to see the dress). Granted it's a poor comparison but why don't you buy me the Benriner Turning Slicer, huh?

Ahem. Anyway, the fact that I even pay attention to clothes (well... Men's clothes) at all surprises quite a few of my friends because on a day-to-day basis I like to put on teh frump and just wear a white T-shirt (souvenirs from various places and events) and jeans (track pants if it's the gym) and my old, old sneakers. I credit being awakened to actual good taste by the now-defunct show Queer Eye, around 2004. Admittedly near the end of the series I didn't want to watch any more because I felt like I've already taken everything I could learn from them and I didn't need to be turned on to trends. I want my clothes to last a while! So, allow me to share my more characteristic pieces of clothing (deliberately shown in ugly light here) and a few tips, in case you're buying for a guy or something. Bleeagh.

I have what you call a "signature pattern." It's Susan's (of SGCC) most hated pattern, but I think it suits me well. My friends know that I love the gray and black "rugby stripes." Here I have a hoody, long-sleeved tee, and a variation on a theme.

T-shirts: the hem has to sit on the hip or maybe slightly lower or higher. Much lower than that and you have stumpy, higher and you have a good forecast for a full moon. We already know the horrible "clever" shirts like Federal Bikini Inspector, so save your money for designs you really, really like. (Here: Megaman shirt- a gift from my brother, Monopoly, Switchfoot, Gas, Yerba Buena ice skating rink souvenir.)

Same rule goes for polo shirts. Notice that the first one is yet another rugby stripe. It's from Spanish company Springfield, one of my favorite places.

Regular shirts. The two heavily striped ones are from Springfield and the checkered Oxford shirt is from United Colors of Benetton. Don't buy shirts that are bigger in case you gain weight, or smaller in the hope of losing weight. Chances are they will be sitting in the closet for a long time, until the design becomes stale. Weirdly, Marks & Spencer designs shirts that are too blousy (large on the body and sleeves) even at the smallest size for me, but really tight on the neck. It's flattering because I consider my neck too skinny, but maybe it's just all my oxygen being cut off.

Two more shirts, the fore from Polo Garage and the back from Springfield. Military-style seems a tad too embellished for me, but it looks and feels good, so I gave it a pass.

Coat with detachable polyester vest inside from Spanish company Zara, at half-price. So it came down to $73-- two pieces for the price of one. I'd only buy things that are on sale if I would still buy them full-priced.


Two suits, one charcoal gray and one navy pinstripe. Latter is essential for a shorter guy like me. They fit snugly on the waist, because otherwise, what's the point?

Long-sleeved tees. From fore to back: Buffalo (Canadian Company), Penshoppe (local), Nike, souvenir shop in Brussels.

Leather jacket from Florence. Somehow it stretched a little so it's a little large on me, but with appropriate layering maybe I can make it look on-size.

Shirts that are only $4, from a local company (American Blvd.).

Sweater I bought in El Segundo on sale, for $16. Now that you've seen two of my shirts that have video game references AND this, it should be very clear that you're talking to a more-or-less enlightened nerd. I don't care.

I have a few ties but this is the only one with character, from British company Topman.

... And now I can't believe I just showed you all that. But I wanted to keep in theme. Anyway, the important points are:
1. It's not quantity, it's quality
2. It's not price, it's quality
3. It's not the embellishments, it's quality
4. If it doesn't fit well NOW, it's as good as garbage.
Happy Holiday shopping!

Panna Cotta Tart
When I saw a similar tart as I peeked in Martha Stewart's Cooking School at the bookstore, of course I marveled at the styling (it is Martha Stewart after all). But more than anything I felt inspired to make patterns on the smooth white surface. Unfortunately, I fucked it up so I coated the whole thing with glacage I had in the freezer, then I fucked it up AGAIN. Argh. Almost did not post from the ugliness. But here it is after a harrowing recovery. And I'm glad I did because it was such a rich, delicious dessert. Inspiration is from Project Runway season 3: Black and White challenge, and this dress by Laura Bennett in particular. Since I also pieced this together from my head, I'm submitting it to Culinarty's Original Recipe Roundup.

Tart Shell

• 100g (7 tablespoons) unsalted butter


• generous pinch of salt


• 38g (5 tablespoons) confectioner's sugar


• 1 large egg yolk, lightly beaten


• 160g (1 cup + 2 tablespoons) all-purpose flour


• 60g (2oz) dark chocolate, melted

In a medium mixing bowl, beat the butter with the salt until pale and creamy. Sift in the confectioner's sugar and continue beating until well-combined. Add the egg yolk and beat until combined. Sift in the flour and stir until there are no longer traces of unmoistened flour, and no more than that. Press into an 8-inch tart pan with removable bottom. Cover with a greased piece of foil, grease side against the tart shell, and freeze for at least 30 minutes or overnight. Preheat the oven to 190°C (375°F) and bake the shell for 25 minutes, still with the foil on. Remove the foil and bake for a further 8 minutes. Set aside to cool. When cool, brush the bottom surface with the melted chocolate and place in the fridge to set.

Yogurt Honey Panna Cotta

• 1 tablespoon powdered unflavored gelatin


• 1 tablespoon water


• 300g (1-1/4 cup) cream (you can use single, heavy, or even milk or any combination thereof, depending on how creamy you want the dessert)


• 125g (1/2 cup) unsweetened plain yogurt or Greek yogurt


• 80g (1/4 cup) flower honey

In a small bowl, sprinkle the gelatin over the water and set aside. Bring the cream to a boil in a small saucepan (if desired, you can steep vanilla or cardamom pods in the cream as it cools, just strain it afterwards). Take off the heat and whisk in the yogurt and the honey. Dissolve the gelatin by heating in the microwave at LOW for 15 seconds or over a double boiler. Stir into the cream. Let it cool at room temperature and pour it into the tart shell, leaving a few mm space for the cocoa glaze. Place in the fridge to set for at least 2 hours.

Cocoa Mirror Glaze
Follow the recipe as directed here (I simply used my excess-- it can be thawed from the freezer with little loss of quality). Pour over the set panna cotta and leave in the fridge to set for at least 30 minutes.

White Chocolate Ganache

• 30g (1 oz) white chocolate, finely chopped


• 30g (2 tablespoons) heavy cream

Bring the cream to a boil in a small bowl in the microwave. Pour over the chocolate and stir gently to melt the chocolate. Let it thicken slightly as it cools at room temperature, then load it into a piping bag, parchment cone, or small plastic bag with the corner snipped off and pipe a design over the glaze.

Page from the Springfield catalog, Fall/Winter 04/05 Collection, which was so freaking excellent I kept it for ideas. The model's hair is quite fantastic, but each time I get one of those from the barber's, it only takes 2 days before my hair becomes annoying again.

Poached Plum Frangipane Tart

Please don't take the subtitle to mean that I consider myself to be a one-Michelin-starred chef. It's just that I was influenced to make this poached plum tart from browsing Gordon Ramsay's "Recipes from a Three-Star Chef", which has that inscription on the protective box. I doubt a star counts when you give it to yourself. But if I were to put down my actual star status, it would be No-Star Chef (and not even a chef), and if it just read "Chef" above my tart, you might think I'm talking about Lenny Henry's kitchen comedy. And if I were entirely honest about my non-chefness, it would read No-Star Nothing, or just nothing, and I'd have no subtitle.

But I will give myself one star for at least this piece of news: I passed the first step of my US Medical Licensure Exam! And not a bad score at that. I figured anyone who would care whether I passed or failed would be reading this blog. I just told my parents (left it to them to tell the family), and one friend, and one Internet friend. It's hard to gauge if your own friends might think you're a blowhard for being so excited about passing an exam they passed weeks or months ago (I'm the last among my friends to take the exam). Apparently there are people you'd give a kidney for, and somehow you still don't know whether they actually care about tiny details of your life. So I'm just putting it out here in the slight chance that you were worried about me.

Now, back to the tart: you might be wondering what I'm doing just browsing a cookbook/coffee-table book when I could just buy it and get it over with instead of coming back to the same dog-eared copy each time you visit the bookstore (er, I'm just kidding, I do handle it with care. It's still quite pristine). You see, for a giant cookbook, 3-Star Chef only has slightly more than 30 recipes, showcasing the exquisite taste of truffles, ceps, lamb, foie gras (I'm guessing), gold, and Fabergé egg omelets. It does have about 10 dessert recipes that look divine, but I've enough problems getting my own basic plated desserts off the ground here. That, and it costs at least P2800 ($62).

Here are a list of things I want that cost much, much less than that:
1. A cast-iron skillet P1050 ($23)
2. A tiny stovetop espresso maker P1700 ($38)
3. Digital instant-read thermometer with probe P1400 ($31)
4. Francois Payard's "Chocolate Epiphany" P1400 ($31)
5. Pichet Ong's "The Sweet Spot" P1200 ($27)
6. A microplane grater P700 ($16)
7. Petite dessert rings P415 each ($9.20)
And for a few hundred more:
1. Guitar Hero Les Paul Wireless Controller P3200 ($71)
2. Ben Sherman sweater ($73)

I'm not really a big-purchase guy. I like slowly eroding my savings away with small purchases like CDs, DVDs, ingredients, and old magazines. It looks like the most reasonable and probably useful thing I want up there is the skillet, though I'll be busy and away for a while in the future, so it's not so wise to buy it now. The reason I'm not so good with following up buying big-ticket items like that damned sweater is that half the time I'm thinking, "I can buy 3 cast iron skillets at these prices!" At least it keeps me from getting broke.

Besides, I've already ripped off the decorating techniques of Ramsay's pastry chef:

I didn't use this top view when I posted about my vacherin because the chocolate design became flaccid after 15 seconds of the summer heat.

Deeba tagged me to name a few songs that were currently stuck in my head in a good way (because: look at Ashlee Simpson's new video. Or not. Don't say I didn't warn you).
A Bad Dream by Keane - anti-war song. The faux guitar solo (it's a distorted Yamaha CP-60) at the end is reminiscent of Lauryn Hill's Ex-Factor, which can't be a bad thing.

Get Back by The Beatles - I realize it's slightly appropriate because it's about immigration (not that I'm immigrating, but it's kind of tangential). But it is a really catchy song.
Under Attack by ABBA - I'll admit I watched Mamma Mia! and it was okay. I actually like ABBA music, but mostly the non-hits. The layering of the vocals in the chorus is simple but it's damn catchy. By the way, this wasn't in the movie.
Knights of Cydonia by Muse - I heard this was supposed to represent the Four Horsemen, which is a tad creepy now that I think about it, but as long as we're talking about layering: listen to the overlapping guitar and keyboards. In the VERSES, no less. Muse's signature undulating chords are insane.

Crazy on You by Heart - I read that this song was written under the influence of mushrooms. I wonder how it ended up making sense. Nancy Wilson's opening acoustic solo is jaw-droppingly good.
Original Sin by Elton John - just a beautiful song about your first love. It makes me kind of starry-eyed and sad.

Yesterdays by Switchfoot - I was planning to use this song in a future post. If you don't feel anything after listening to the lyrics, you're a robot.

Poached Plum Frangipane Tart
The concept for this I derived from Recipes from a 3-Star Chef but I got the corresponding recipes for the crust and the frangipane from Elisabeth Prueitt and Chad Robertson's Tartine. The creme anglaise is from Flo Braker's Simple Art of Perfect Baking-- I used it because it doesn't call for any cream. The sauce is supposed to be plum sauce made from sieved poached plums in syrup, but I ran out of plums because I'm not made of money so I used just the syrup. Obviously it turned out too sweet, so we just skipped it for the rest of the servings. I barely had enough for a big 9" tart and a single tartelette. I'm glad because the photo of the big tart looks freakily neon-- I didn't stage the photo shoot well enough.

Flaky Tart Dough

• 1/2 teaspoon salt


• 75mL (1/3 cup) very cold water


• 225g (1 1/2 cup + 1 tablespoon) all-purpose flour


• 150g (1/2 cup + 2 1/2 tablespoons) unsalted butter, cut into 1-inch pieces and frozen (OMG GET A SCALE)

Stir together the salt and water and maintain very cold. I made this dough by hand, but the principles are the same when making in a heavy-duty food processor. Put the flour in a mixing bowl and scatter the butter over. Work the butter into the flour with a pastry blender until it forms large crumbs and some pieces of butter remain the size of peas. Add in the salt water and combine with a fork until the dough comes together into a rough ball. Shape into a disk 1 inch thick and wrap in cling film and chill for at least 2 hours.

Ideally you should be working in a very cold kitchen but I "developed" a method for lining a tart pan with a removable bottom very easily (actually it's from necessity-- the heat was making the dough too greasy, and you definitely don't want that to happen if you want a flaky crust). Grease the ring and bottom of a 9" tart pan. Working quickly, roll out the disk of dough from the center out in all directions (to ensure an even crust) over the removable bottom only until the dough circle is 1-1/2 inch larger than the removable bottom. Carefully lift the entire set-up (bottom and dough) and plop it onto the tart ring. Neatly and without stretching, drape the dough against the sides of the tart ring and roll the rolling pin over the edge to get rid of the excess. Chill the shell for at least an hour.

Classic Frangipane
Coincidentally this is also Ramsay's recipe.

• 100g (1 cup) almond meal


• 100g (1/2 cup) granulated sugar


• 100g (7 tablespoons) unsalted butter, at room temperature


• pinch of salt


• 10mL (2 teaspoons) brandy


• 1 large egg


• 15g (1 tbsp) whole milk

In a mixing bowl, beat the butter and salt until creamy, then add the sugar and almond meal and mix well to combine. Add the brandy and egg and mix well. Keep covered with cling film in the fridge until ready to use.

Poached Plums

• 1kg (2 pounds) just-ripe plums, pitted and cut into 8 neat wedges each


• 400mL (1 2/3 cup) water


• 400g (2 cups) granulated sugar

In a pot, combine the water and sugar and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to a simmer and add the plum wedges and poach for about 5 minutes. Leave to cool and store in the fridge. The longer you let them sit in the syrup, the redder they will become.

Set a rack in the middle third of the oven and preheat the oven to 190°C (375°F). Fill the chilled tart shell with an even layer of frangipane and bake until the crust is golden and the filling is set (a knife should come out clean), about 45 minutes. Let it cool to room temperature. Drain and arrange the poached plum wedges on top in a decorative pattern. Chill until serving time. Remove from the fridge 10 minutes before serving.

Crema de Fruta Tarts

I don't know what happened to me. I am deathly afraid of saying those 3 words (apparently not of the other 3 more harmful words-- "more food, please"). I used to say them often. Now I can only say them in the context of a humorous statement. Even if I really want to, I need something to disguise it and the recipient is just left wondering how much of it I meant.

I know many of you will be piping in, "If you mean it, say it, or you'll regret it." Unfortunately, experience has shown me that it's when I do say it that the regret starts. The person in question feels pressure to live up to it, or I'm seen as too intense or borderline. The thing is, I admit it feels wonderful to be the recipient. But I know myself. I don't think I know many other people well enough to assume for them that it's a good thing to be loved by me. Maybe I'm just not that person. I would think that maybe I'm just selfish, but I like making people feel that they're loved somehow, like in the food I make or the cakes I bake. Just not in words. Maybe I should just make the rule now: if I've said it as a joke, I already meant it (the problem with that is I take it even more personally when people don't like the food-- oh, what a tangled web I weave..). These (hopefully) original tarts, patterned after Crema de Fruta, a now-classic Filipino dessert of layered chiffon cake, custard, fruit cocktail, and gelatin "mirror" is my entry to the Mini Pie Revolution 2: Small Tarts have Big Hearts food blogging event founded and hosted by my good online buddy Ann of redacted recipes and Karyn of Hot Potato..

While this doesn't have cake, there's never enough depth in a tart to include pastry cream, fruits, peach slices (no matter how thinly you slice them), and gelatin. So I scrapped the gelatin, except for a light brushing of gelatinized light peach syrup on top. It doesn't really add much anyway. I used "Good Cook" (a California-n brand) heart tins that measured 3-1/4" (8cm) on the septum, which sold for 3 at P150 ($3.75). One real (much shallower) heart tartlet pan with a removable bottom costs P280 ($7). Uh, no thanks.

Paté Brisée (good for 4 3-1/4" heart tins)

• 130g (9 tbsp or 1 stick + 1 tbsp) unsalted butter, room temperature


• 1 large egg yolk


• 210g (1-1/2 cups) all-purpose flour


• 50g (1/2 cup) confectioner's sugar


• 1/4 tsp salt

Using a mixer with the paddle attachment if you have one, beat the butter until creamy and clinging to the sides of the bowl. Beat in the egg yolk until combined. Sift together the flour, sugar, and salt over the butter while beating. Stop when you have the appearance of fine crumbs (a few larger pieces of butter are fine). Gather into a log, pressing together well, and wrap in cling film. Let it rest in the refrigerator for at least 4 hours. Slice the log into 1/8" thick pieces, then line the tins with the pieces only slightly overlapping, pressing them well together to make them even and make sure there are no spaces in between (alternatively you could just tamp on a giant blob of dough, but I like the slice technique because it creates a very even crust throughout). Cut off the excess. Line with foil, making sure it goes over the sides, and freeze for at least 30 minutes. Preheat the oven to 190°F (375°F). Bake the crusts until light golden, about 18 minutes. Remove the foil and place on a rack to cool for 15 minutes, then flip them out onto the palm of your hand carefully. Make sure all the sides are supported by your palm so they don't fall apart (actually if you pressed them well together, it will be quite durable). Let them cool on a rack completely.

Crema de Fruta custard
Unlike pastry cream, this recipe has water, and is runnier, sweeter, lighter, and smoother. It's suited to tartlets because you don't have to slice them and worry about the filling running out. If you want to translate this recipe to a large tart, use a regular pastry cream instead.

• 100g (1/2 cup) granulated sugar


• 23g (2 tbsp + 2 tsp) cake flour


• 330g (1 cup + 6 tbsp) whole milk


• 3 large egg yolks


• 90g (6 tbsp) water

Combine all the ingredients in a heavy-bottomed saucepan over medium heat. Bring to a boil, whisking constantly, until thickened and creamy.

To assemble:

• 1 small can of peach slices in light syrup, drained very well


• 3 single serves of fruit cocktail, drained very well

Spoon the tart shells with custard half-full. Spoon fruit cocktail into the custard, pressing it in so the custard flows to the top of the fruit. Slice each peach slice into 4 thin wedges, then decorate the tops of the tarts with the peach slices.

Chocolate Linzer Tart

Schokolade Linzertorte

It's funny how saying goodbye to someone can give you cycling flashbacks on how your relationship evolved. That's what happened a few days ago when I said goodbye to one of my friends from medical school. I thought I'd be able to see her again, so I made this tart, which reminded me so much of the restaurant adventures we went through during our time as classmates. By now you will have inferred that I was making the tart to impress her (not a good idea then, that I made it for the first time-- but my culinary exploits have made me cocky). The fact that I was enamored with her was probably the one of the worst-kept secrets of my medical school life. You're probably wondering why I tried to keep it a secret at all. Yes, I know it sounds dumb. But at the time, I never actually thought I was good enough. The clincher is, even after years of personal growth and building my confidence, I still don't quite think I am. Certain people can really make you feel that way, as if you've never quite outgrown the first time you met-- when she thought you were incredibly haughty, a little weird, and (mistakenly) intimidatingly smart. The way your jaw dropped when you saw her perform onstage for the first time (and how it kept dropping every single time after that). When she introduced you to your first patisserie, when she gave you part of a cake she baked, and how you were tricked into a belated birthday surprise, which is how she saw you in boxer shorts with ducks all over it.

I know all that sounds idealized and misty-water-colored, but if I wanted to, I could remember everything bad that happened between us. But for now, it's time to say goodbye: the ship has sailed. It's a new life ahead of me, and a new year. Maybe I learned a lesson and from now on will say exactly what I mean without fear of ridicule (probably won't, for fear of getting a massive heart attack). The silly thing is, she might be reading this (if she doesn't know any of it already, that's pretty strong denial for you). Anyway, the people you meet in your life are worth more than the lessons you've learned from them. After all, having friends who care about you is not a very bad thing indeed.

Chocolate Linzer Tart (adapted from Chocolate Desserts by Pierre Hermé)

• 14 tablespoons (2 sticks minus 2 tablespoons or 200g) unsalted butter at room temperature


• 5 tablespoons (50g) confectioner's sugar


• 5 tablespoons (30g) Dutch-process cocoa, preferably Valrhona


• 2 hard-boiled large egg yolks at room temperature, pressed through a fine strainer


• 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon


• 1/4 teaspoon salt


• 2 teaspoons dark rum


• 1/4 teaspoon double-acting baking powder


• 1-1/2 cup (210g) all-purpose flour

In a food processor or mixer, process the butter until creamy, scraping down the sides as needed. Add the confectioner's sugar, cocoa, egg yolk, cinnamon, salt, and rum and process until smooth, scraping the bowl as needed. In a sifter, combine the flour and baking powder and sift it into the mixture. Pulse (or continue mixing) until thoroughly blended. The dough will be very soft. Scrape onto a piece of cling film and gather it into a ball and press into a disk. Let it chill for at least 4 hours or up to 2 days (alternatively you can freeze it for a month).

Grease a 8-3/4 inch (22cm) tart pan with a removable bottom (the sides are ideally 3/4 inch high). Roll out the dough to a thickness of a scant 1/4 inch (7mm). Since the dough becomes very soft quickly as it warms to room temperature (and quicker still once you've started rolling it), I recommend rolling in between two sheets of parchment paper/ cling film, cutting the giant disk into quarters, laying the quarters out on the tart pan, and pressing the cut edges together. The dough is very forgiving. You can also pat the dough into the tart pan without rolling, but keep in mind the thickness should be even throughout. Roll over the top of the tart pan with a rolling pin to make the edges neat. The excess dough can be shaped into a log, cut into circles, and baked as cookies.

Cover the prepared crust with aluminum foil and fill the foil with dried beans or rice. Chill for at least 30 minutes. Preheat the oven to 350°F (177°C). Bake the pastry for 18-20 minutes, then remove the foil and beans and bake for 3-5 minutes more, until firm. Cool to room temperature.

• about 3/4 cup (240g) raspberry jam (I used store-bought; see below for making your own)


• 1-1/2 teaspoons gelatin (optional)


• 8oz (230g) bittersweet chocolate (I used a mixture of Lindt Dark and Meiji Black)


• 1 cup (250g) heavy cream


• 4 tablespoons (1/2 stick or 60g) unsalted butter at room temperature

Make sure the jam is not too runny. If it is, microwave or boil in a saucepan for a few minutes until it thickens sufficiently. Take note that it will thicken further as it cools. Sprinkle the gelatin over the jam and stir it in. Microwave on HIGH for 15 seconds or set over very low heat, stirring until the gelatin is dissolved. Let the jam cool for a minute and spread it in an even layer over the bottom of the crust. Set aside in the refrigerator.

Chop the chocolate finely and place in a medium bowl. Bring the cream to a boil in the microwave or in a heavy-bottomed small saucepan, then pour over the chocolate quickly, but trying not to create bubbles as you dump it in. Using a rubber spatula, gently stir in a widening concentric circle from the center, being careful not to produce any bubbles as you stir; be patient as eventually the heat of the cream will melt all the chocolate. Let the ganache sit for a minute and cool while you work the butter in a separate bowl until very creamy. Add the butter in two additions, stirring gently as before. Let the ganache cool until it is just slightly warm to the touch but still pourable. Pour it over the jam just until it reaches the top of the crust. Refrigerate until set. Let sit at room temperature for 30 minutes before serving.

Homemade Raspberry Jam

• 1 pound (450g) red raspberries


• 1-1/3 cups (270g) sugar


• about 1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice

Put the berries in the workbowl of a food processor and process, turning off the machine for a while if it gets too hot, processing it for a total of 5 minutes. Transfer to a heavy-bottomed casserole and stir in the sugar. Bring to a rollicking boil, stirring occasionally, and boil for 10-15 minutes until the jam thickens slightly and the bubbles look clear. Stir in a teaspoon of the lemon juice and scrape the jam into a heatproof jar. The jam can be kept in the refrigerator for about 1 month.

Banoffee Pie

I'm just teasing here (obviously), but the British are CRAZY. While I believe that the old cliché that British food is bland is an untrue one, I have the suspicion that some of their desserts (namely: Sticky Pudding, Millionaire's Shortbread, and now Banoffee Pie) were created to compensate for a dissatisfied taste bud. I don't know! It was the seventies! Who knows how bland food was back then (uh... people older than 30?)! But here we are now in the Philippines, where bananas rule. It would be a shame not to try it. I took a cue from Jamie Oliver's book Jamie's Kitchen which I got on sale (again).

Jamie's Kitchen was a documentary/ reality series where Oliver took 15 unemployed and underprivileged youngsters under his wing and trained them as chefs for his then-new restaurant, "15". I caught a glimpse of it on the Lifestyle network and though I had to read magazines during it to keep from sleeping, there was an awesome moment which I have to now share. You see, Oliver sent his protegées to a tavern to prepare for the hard life of, er, employment in a kitchen. Unfortunately, two of the girls had gotten used to their lazy ways and their disdain for work was seen in the shoddy food and their tardiness. So when it was time for the owner of the place to say goodbye to them and send them to Jamie's for good, she was kissing their cheeks and basically, kindly, cheerfully, and awesomely telling them that they were no good in the kitchen and she doesn't see it happening for them. Quite honestly she said that what they experienced under the scrutiny of TV production wasn't real-- work is not a triumph a week, goal done, NEXT! kind of affair. It's a long, continuous, utterly same-y process of making your way to the top (and probably this blog author's greatest complaint about his impending "life"). When it was time to say goodbye to their experienced co-workers, they exchanged kisses and the lazy girls were crying too, and the guy amusedly exclaims to the camera, "Tears!" Awesome, non-sentimental jolly guy. (Recipe follows)

Dulce de leche, which is the "toffee" in this recipe, is an Argentinian invention, I believe, though true cajetas is made by slowly cooking goat's milk in massive amounts of sugar. Regardless, this is how Latina grandmothers roll nowadays, so don't be ashamed. It's supposed to be thick and when chilled, barely move, but condensed milk differs and while mine was gloriously rich and thick, bananas can still sink in them and you will get a flood of dulce de leche everywhere. So I've deviated from my procedure here.

Making dulce de leche
You'll need 3 300-mL or 2 14-oz (400mL) cans of condensed milk (there are differences in the available can sizes between countries, weirdly). In a large pot, lay the cans down and add enough water so that the cans are completely submerged. If they float, you'll have to weigh them down with a brick or something. Bring the water to a boil over medium heat and keep boiling for 3 hours. Always make sure to keep the cans submerged, so have some extra water nearby always. If you let it dry up, the cans might explode and you will have dulce de ceiling, not to mention a possible injury. So if you're feeling lazy and don't want to periodically watch the cans, don't do this at all.

Alternatively, you could use a pressure cooker, which is what I did. Lay the cans down on the cooker and cover with boiling water. Ensure that the lid is shut tight and bring to a boil over high heat. Once the cooker achieves proper pressure (the indicator/ valve is whistling or turning), turn the heat down low (make sure the whistling/ turning continues) and cook under pressure for 1 hour. If the turning of the valve stops, that means there's no water left, so if you're not even close to an hour cooking, you'll have to stop and add more water. Once done, release the pressure (you know, douse the top with cool running water, release the valve, release the lid), and cool at room temperature.

The last method is via the oven. In a deep oven-safe pot, roasting pan, or dutch oven, cover the cans completely with boiling water and bake in a preheated 275°F (135°C) oven for 5 hours. You'll have to still make sure that the water doesn't dry up, but since it's a closed environment, it happens much slower if ever.

Wait till the cans are room temperature before opening, or Charles's Law will kick your ass and you'll get dulce de face.

Banoffee Pie (actually a tart)

• 1-1/2 (210g) cups all-purpose flour


• 1/2 cup (50g) confectioners' sugar


• 1/4 teaspoon salt


• 1 stick plus 1 tablespoon (9 tablespoons or 130g) unsalted butter, cut into small pieces and frozen


• 1 large egg yolk


• 3 large ripe bananas


• dulce de leche as above


• 1-1/2 cups (375g) heavy cream, chilled

Sift together the flour, sugar, and salt into a large bowl. Using a pastry blender or two knives, cut in the butter until the mixture resembles oatmeal (large crumbs), then cut in the egg yolk until the dough comes together into small curds.

Grease a 9-inch fluted tart pan and press the tart dough into the bottom and up the sides. Don't be too heavy-handed with the pressing-- apply only enough pressure so the dough clings together and can still crumble, but you don't want to have a hard, stony crust. Freeze for at least 30 minutes, preferably longer.

Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C) Grease a piece of foil large enough to cover the tart and place it grease-side down on the crust. Bake in the middle rack of the oven on a sheet pan for 25 minutes, then remove the foil and bake for 8 minutes more. Set the crust aside to cool. Meanwhile, whip the cream until it forms firm peaks and set aside in the fridge.

Spread some dulce de leche on the bottom of the cooled crust, only enough to make a thin layer. Slice the bananas 1/4 inch thick and lay them out in one layers over the dulce de leche. Using the dulce de leche at room temperature, spoon it over the bananas only to fill the crevices between them, but not enough to make them float. Place another layer of banana slices over this and repeat. Place the whipped cream in a piping bag and pipe a design on the top. Alternatively you can just spoon it in and form swirls. Use the remaining dulce de leche to make a striped pattern on top, or you could do as I did and squeeze some chocolate syrup on.

Pineapple Pie

There are a few pineapple-growing regions in the Philippines, and the most accessible one from where I live is Tagaytay. Also a coconut-growing region, they take advantage of the relatively cooler climate they have (probably a good 8-10°C colder by my estimate throughout the year) by enticing tourists and producing take-away items in dizzying, "whoever-will-eat-all-of-these" quantities. So they make Coconut (Buco) and Pineapple Pies. However, over the years the Pineapple Pie I remember from my childhood has become rarer, outsold by its coconut sibling. And I hated that, because Pineapple Pie is one of my favorite bakery items. So I had to recreate it. (Recipe follows)

This recipe is from the Maya Kitchen Culinary Arts Center, which develops recipes for the Liberty Flour Mills. It's not the freshest-tasting pie, but what I like about it (same reason I love the classic take-away pie) is that it's so toothsome.

You can use any short pie pastry. I used the one they indicated in the recipe, with 2 cups of all-purpose flour, 1 teaspoon salt, 1/2 teaspoon sugar, 1/2 cup (1 stick) frozen butter, 3 tablespoons shortening, and 5 tablespoons ice water. It was a little saltier than I'd expected, but in the end it tied up well with the filling.

Separate the finished pie dough into a large (2/3) and a small (1/3) portion. Roll out the larger portion and line a 9-inch pie pan. Prick with a fork all over and bake in a preheated 400°F (205°C) oven for 10 minutes.

For the filling, combine 1 567-gram can of crushed pineapple (with syrup and all), 1 cup sugar, 1 tablespoon lemon (or Philippine lemon) juice, 2 large eggs, 1/3 cup all-purpose flour, and 1/4 teaspoon vanilla in a heavy-bottomed saucepan and bring to a boil, stirring constantly, over medium heat. Cook for a few minutes more until thick-- my gauge was that I started to actually make an effort stirring it. By the way, that sounded like too much sugar to me (especially for fruit that was packed in heavy syrup), so I used only 1/2 cup sugar with no problem. Cool the filling.

Pour the filling into the pre-baked cooled pie shell, then roll out the smaller portion of dough. Traditionally it's formed into a lattice on top, but I cut out stars with a cookie cutter instead and pinched them together on top. Brush with an egg wash (small, slightly beaten egg) and continue baking for 20 minutes, but I let it go for a while longer till I was satisfied with how golden-brown the top was.

Galette Ananas (with how-to)

Pineapple Galette

I got the idea from Flo Braker's The Simple Art of Perfect Baking, but I used a different recipe for pâte brisée, one that I already used before. This dessert has no added sugar; in fact it would have no sugar if Del Monte would not add heavy syrup to every living thing. I understand they need it to preserve the pineapple, but I guess that's my fault for not wanting to use a fresh pineapple. Braker also wanted the slices in concentric circles; I used a spoke design because it looked prettier in my head.

Pâte Brisée means broken pastry in French. It's supposed to be tender and flaky. Here in the Philippines, temperature is close to body temp, so making pastry is hard but not impossible. All you need to remember is to work quick and not to overdo it.


The first thing to do is to prepare everything (in cooking, always use the principle of mise en place-- everything in its place. It will save you the scurrying later). Cut the butter into cubes and place in the freezer. Everything has to be cold when making pastry, and some even put the flour in the freezer but I find that excessive. While waiting for it to get stone-hard, place the dry ingredients (flour and salt) in a strainer. Don't sift until just before you start so the particles are well-aerated and won't form lumps (thus harder to work in).

When ready, take a small bowl of ice water and keep on the side. Sift like mad. I use a pastry blender with rigid tines (flexible tines are useless).

Cut in the butter with the pastry blender (force the flour in between the cut flakes of cold butter) until the particles are the size of small peas and coarse crumbs. It's better to have large pieces of butter than to overdo it. The idea is to form lamellations of butter and flour to create a flaky pastry, not to make it homogenous like a cookie. If at any time the butter becomes too soft, put it back in the fridge until it's firmer. Also, that means you've been taking too long. It shouldn't be more than a few minutes. Use your forearm muscle!

Add ice water a tablespoon at a time until it just comes together. Any more and it will be soggy. In our humid climate it only takes about 3 tablespoons. As you can see, I've pinched a small mass there-- good enough to roll out.

Lay it out in a mound on the counter.

This technique is called fraisage, or milling. Basically it means squishing your dough across the counter in a few strokes to spread the lamellations, making it more stable. It's not a "must" but if you have a juicy filling, it helps so the juice doesn't seep out through tiny cracks. I used my left hand because I'm taking pictures. I got some of the dough on my watch.

After two cycles of mounding and fraisage, I formed it into a 4-inch disc, wrapped in plastic wrap, and...

... wrapped in foil and dated. I did this about 2 weeks ago. It will be fine for a month so the date on the front is important! It's great for making ahead of time.

For the pineapple, I cut each slice into 2 through its width, so I had double the quantity of thinner slices. After draining, I put it back in the can with its top still mostly on and put it in the fridge upside-down in a bowl overnight. When it comes to making pineapple pastries, you want to get rid of excess juice so you don't steam or boil your creation. However, draining on paper towels overnight would just rob it completely of its juice. In the morning, I just roll out my thawed dough, arrange the slices, then bake.

Easy as pie, isn't it? Well, IT IS!