Out & About #1086 | Endless Meetings, Pandan Honeycomb Cake Again + Matcha Black Sesame Pound Cake

If there's anything I can confirm, it's that I've reverted back to my consulting disposition: irritable, unhappy, fatigued, and sensitive to any acts that deplete time from my day. Twenty-four hours was never enough to start, but even small pockets of time have become increasingly valuable as the work stress overcomes me more each day.

The first in-office saw a giant platter of Pandan Honeycomb Cake quietly emerge. I tacked a label onto the plastic wrap, plus a bold "EAT ME!" to dissipate any hesitation.

Stemming from a desire to walk, I strolled my way up to the mechanical penthouse level, then back down to the floor wherein my desk had been reserved.

​Over lunch, I'd gradually make my way in the direction of Square One, but meandering on the west side of Duke of York for improved access to shade and streetscaping.

Tulips and dainty buds graced the exterior of the Living Arts Centre. Meanwhile, yellow maple leaves and a tiered, indigo-tinted outdoor lounge area assumed colourful highlights outside Sheridan College.

​For the first time in a long time, weather was perfect.

​I perused the mall somewhat aimlessly. My first stop was Coach, as to seek out a pair of leather loafers seen through social media ads. The shoe did not complement my striped Paul Frank socks, nor were they deep enough to prevent heel slippage without orthotics. I thanked the lady, then continued on my way.

​Trips to Dollarama and Miniso would follow. Neither were as exciting as the downtown outposts, oddly enough. They did not involve a similar step count either.

​In the early evening hours, I tagged along with a coworker to his grocery run at T&T. My browsing partner had taken my car for the day, in hopes that a tire change was imminent. Unfortunately, the promised date of Monday was delayed till the next business day.

My coworker's cart comprised of leek, pre-sliced meat, and assorted vegetables. Meanwhile, mine would strictly adhere to exclusive snacks and items marked on sale. After concluding the round, he pointed towards HERO Tea, asking if I minded joining. Of course I didn't mind!
The Treasure White Grape Slush had apparently been on his mind since sampling it two weeks prior, leading me to contemplate the difficulty level of procuring muscat syrup for personal use.

Later that evening, my browsing partner came to complete pick-up duties and assemble the weighty standing desk that caused me much grief. Although assembly did not exceed 7 PM, cleanup and re-configuration led me into the wee hours of the morning. Despite being fully capable of wrapping up disposal activities, my browsing partner had simply departed without lifting a finger to reinstate the box and accompanying bricks of foam.
"Can't you do that?" I was asked, rather ridiculously.
"Well of course I could, but if you're offering help then due diligence is expected." I retorted, "I asked for help, not more work."
Yet another two-part argument would ensue due to failure to consider the perspectives of others. I couldn't believe asking for a clean space to be reinstated conjured so much friction! In reality, it ought be common sense.

​Work from home days have transformed into miserable periods of solitude before my computer. Lattes are no longer crafted with vigor, but a sense of anxiety instead. Morning bathroom breaks are often interrupted by unannounced calls, while afternoon snacking periods jolted by unexpected needs for clarification.

​While I am, by no means, against a mutually supportive working environment, it is my solemn belief that the industry thrives on an individual's ability to apply critical thinking and problem solving skills, for the benefit of the team and greater society.

​Occasionally gazing outside, I am reminded, by the gradual growth of shrubs, that spring has arrived. The seasons have changed without us realizing.

One of the biggest differences since my downtown days was the sheer reluctance towards going to the office. Lengthy hours of being bound to my desk and dragged into unnecessary meetings would occur regardless of work location, but the office environment simply did not instill the same joy as it once had. The people were older, suburban-minded (old-fashioned), and, dare I say it, boring.
Granted, my commute was far better. I could be whisked home in under thirty minutes even at the peak of rush hour.

​When I grudgingly returned to the office for two consecutive days of (essentially) all-day meetings, my lunch hour had been gravely cut short. I strived to walk at every possible opportunity, during every possible break.

This desire to move would lead me to an empty gym facility, where I could review its assortment of equipment without fear of invading on the privacy of others during their workout.

​Notable were the availability of a squash court, various cardio apparatus (but no Stairmaster), and fitness equipment such as medicine balls, foam rollers, and a Bosu ball.

​A late morning trek to the mall informed me of a pending heat wave: The skies were a glorious blue with scattered, barely visible cloud cover. This unexpected warmth had caused some petal fall across blooming branches.

​Swiftly making my rounds through the upper and lower levels, I learned of Chick-Fil-A's daily promotions, new openings in the food court (potential for bingsoo??), and cute but costly stationery at Indigo.

My final stop was Timmies. Alas, it hadn't occurred to me that the lower level location would feature a consistently lengthy lineup at all times of the day. Those in the queue moved quickly, thus I resolved to join instead of heading to the Innovation Café. A concurrent mobile order would be placed for a Brown Sugar Iced Latte with Oat Milk.
Why not place the entire order via the app? One may ask. It was due to the inability to pick your own selection for a 10-pack of Timbits.

But they were impossibly slow. There was just twenty minutes before my next meeting, and my heart was racing. With the reveal of my latte on the counter, I thanked the middle-aged lady and sped out of the mall, desperately persevering to keep perspiration at bay.

​I had requested two of each flavour in stock, excluding Birthday Cake. Old-Fashioned Plain is always delectable. Chocolate Dip is a close second, though usually suffers from overwhelming sweetness in spite of its wonderfully toothsome texture. Honey Dip is a classic flavour for good reason, but too soft for my liking; one could describe the creation as a tofu pocket smothered with stickiness, for the interior was hollow and slightly doughy, being a yeasted formula.

Recent additions to the assortment included Blueberry Cheesecake and Powdered Strawberry. The former was decorated with sizable bits of white and purple crystal sugar. Within was a revolting, lilac-tinged filling. I detected neither blueberry nor cheesecake, and readily disposed of the second. It was inedible!
Powdered Strawberry, on the other hand, had been my childhood favourite. Indeed, the icing sugar-dusted exterior made for a messy eating experience. That said, the coating heightened the overall concoction in terms of flavour complexity and visual interest.

Baking projects have been my sole form of escape amidst the transitional chaos. Due to unexpected interruptions during the work day and house duties regrettably being postponed to after-work hours, my ability to commit to extensive experimentation has been impacted drastically. Gone are the days of beautiful, three-part cakes, complete with decorative elements. Instead, the focus has shifted to straightforward creations - those that can be assembled with ease, slid into the oven for their specified period of time, and served without fuss. As a consequence of these newly-imposed time constraints, I've also found myself gravitating to my countertop convection oven, for the standard-sized contraption tends to fluctuate and fail more frequently.

Returning home after just thirty minutes of OT allowed for exercise in addition to last-minute construction of a Pandan Honeycomb Cake.

1) Pandan Honeycomb Cake (Again)

Since the household was running low on eggs, I was prompted to modify the recipe by scaling back from a Bundt cake serving. The original recipe called for 7 eggs; the fridge had 4.

• 7/4 = 1.75 OR 4/7 = 0.57

All ingredients would be scaled down by 0.57.

Recall:

• 1.25 cup = 225 g granulated sugar
• 2 tbsp = 18 g rice flour

Theoretically, the amounts would be as follows:

• 4 eggs
• 114 ml coconut milk 
• 24 g unsalted butter, melted
• 137 g tapioca starch
• 10 g rice flour
• 128 g sugar
• 1.1 tsp cream of tartar
• 0.57 tsp baking soda
• 0.57 tsp starch

However, I wished not to waste the remainder of my 400 ml can of coconut milk, and settled to dump the remnants into the batter out of pure convenience. Consequently, I was left to ponder increasing the amount of dry ingredients to compensate for the additional liquid. While unintentional, a heavy-handed pour of sugar resulted in 9 g greater than specified. This discrepancy is unlikely to cause dramatic differences, though.
​
The final ingredient list is as follows:

• 4 eggs
•  ̶1̶1̶4̶ → 180 ml coconut milk 
•  ̶2̶4̶ → 32 g unsalted butter, melted
•  ̶1̶3̶7̶ → 175 g tapioca starch
•  ̶1̶0̶ 19 g rice flour
•  ̶1̶2̶8̶ → 137 g sugar
• 1.1 tsp cream of tartar
• 0.57 tsp baking soda
• 0.57 tsp starch

​Whisking in a zig-zag motion had been insufficient in breaking up the protein strands of the egg white. Instead of using scissors, as the recipe advises, the batter would be strained into a greased loaf pan to ensure uniformity without added volume. The concoction would then bake at 350 F for about 40 minutes, until a skewer came out clean.

Admittedly, I had underestimated the baking time and set the timer for 30-35 minutes. The surface had turned golden, but did not exhibit crispiness. In addition, the loaf began to deflate as soon as it was removed from heat, indicating that internal structure had not yet been established. I had committed a grave error, for the wrinkled, deflated portion of the loaf did not rise again in the supplementary bake.

With all that said, I am nevertheless pleased to announce that the trial was a success. The lower half revealed the signature honeycomb structure of Vietnamese bánh bò nướng. Meanwhile, a cakey-bready consistency emerged in the upper half of the loaf. A thin, golden crust formed along the perimeter, inviting its audience into aromatic, chewy-stretchy cross-section.
Pandan extract had given rise to intense saturation - an element I would gladly accept over the patchiness of my previous Bundt cake versions.

Unthinkable to me was the act of weeknight baking. I hadn't anticipated to accomplish the feat without sacrificing sleep. My next in-office day would start at least hour later though, ensuring adequate time to slice, package, and finish dishes. None of these activities were executed with others in close proximity, though, as morning disruptions cause nothing but grief.

​Yet another day of all-day meetings awaited me. I had mentally prepared to hurry my lunch intake come noon, but was met with a last-minute cancellation. Beyond elated, my mid-day meal was consumed peacefully. I was even able to take to a relaxed, twenty-minute treadmill walk afterwards.
But truthfully, who decides to book meetings without lunch break?! Where are the bathroom breaks?! Hydration needs?!

My pre-long weekend aspirations involved Tiramisu Bingsoo. But when my browsing partner wasn't free to join me on the impromptu expedition, I headed home. The caveat to being a small eater is the loss of opportunity to indulge in items of desire without at least one dining partner. Schedule incompatibility and individual pace of operation aside, my irritation triples when allergies and preferences dictate my intake.

A coffee slush topped with Häagen-Dazs Vanilla Bean Ice Cream and Nani's Vietnamese Coffee Gelato was constructed to fill the void.

​Conforming to my suspicions, the previous day's continuous stressors had resulted in water intake deficiency. I awoke to a nose bleed, which was unknowingly transmitted to Mr. Buttons. Again, it is beyond comprehension how work meetings can be scheduled to such a stifling manner!

The long weekend presented a much-needed opportunity to clean and catch up on house chores. Naturally, I did just that.
But as the day advanced, I realized that time was running out to visit the Ceramic Spring Market. The one-day event marked my aspiring potter friend's first time as a vendor participant. I was faced with the difficult decision of postponing progress in order to present support.

​A CoCo run was undertaken. The TOTM Oolong Milk Tea special with Brown Sugar Pearls (extra $1.20 charge!) was obtained for yours truly, while Jasmine Milk Tea with Sago and Milk Tea with Pearls for the hardworking potter and her support.

​The venue was a pottery studio located within a commercial plaza off a quiet section of a major collector road. Both vehicular and pedestrian traffic were minimal. Besides three balloons and a garage sale-style sign outside the entrance, there was minimal promotion for the event. Frankly, had I not been aware of the event beforehand, I would have never found it in passing.

​Located at the rear of the facility, the market consisted of a handful of local artists. Practically all vendors in attendance presented handmade goods ranging from crochet plushies and quilts to beaded bracelets to lacquered pottery.

A small DIY clay-making booth was found at the back of the establishment, in close proximity to the kilns and shelves of workshop equipment. There were two kilns fitted with sizable hoods: Fluffy and Larry.
Larry!!

The short stopover served as a mere appearance for support. My browsing partner had been invited to tag along for the drive, though my plans did not involve any further interactions to prevent schedule delays. Even "quick" conversations could never be as quick as I wished. 

​By the time I had returned home, it was already nearing the period for exercise. The remainder of the day was spent sorting images, vacuuming, and subjecting Larry and Mr. Buttons to comprehensive cleaning - long overdue, by the way!

The Pandan Honeycomb Cake vanished by Sunday, so it seemed fitting to commence yet another production.

2) Matcha Black Sesame Condensed Milk Pound Cake

​I've been treacherously behind in Sunday Baking's recent uploads - to no one's surprise! Before I'm able to commit to new forays in the world of baking, turning to her tried-and-true recipes never fail to reinstate a sense of peace, followed by happiness and satisfaction.

The Sweetened Condensed Milk Pound Cake is the foundation for countless spinoffs on this space - orange, mugwort, hidden heart, Sakura anko, and black sesame, just to name a few. I've also taken the liberty to introduce tea-inspired glazes beyond the ever-versatile white chocolate base.

​In this rendition, I divided the batter to include two flavours: matcha and black sesame. The flavour of the glaze was kept consistent with Sunday's original, with only the ratio of white chocolate to oil modified.

Ingredients:

• 150 g unsalted butter, softened
• 150 g sweetened condensed milk *
• 40 g granulated sugar
• 3 eggs
• 4 g vanilla extract
• pinch of salt
• 150 AP flour
• 4 g baking powder

Matcha batter

• 30 g sweetened condensed milk
• 4 g matcha

Black Sesame batter

• 4 g black sesame paste

White Chocolate Glaze

• 109 g white chocolate couverture
• 12 g vegetable oil

Sunday's recipe serves as the guideline for this concoction: The flour-batter method is used to ensure an airy, tender crumb. Butter is beaten with solid and liquid sugar first. Dry ingredients are incorporated as the second step, and eggs as the third.
As opposed to adding the specified 180 g of sweetened condensed milk in the first stage of beating though, only 150 g is used. 30 g is reserved for later.

Total weight - Bowl = Batter
1639 - 1008 = 631 g

631/2 = 316 g per batter

​With two distinctively different toned batters, I had contemplated a checkerboard pattern. Extremely fussy was this process, for it involved transferring the batter to piping bags and alternating rows of batter along the length of the loaf pan. After the first two layers, I quickly grew impatient. Approximately twenty minutes had passed and the piping bags were becoming messier and messier. I wished not to restart the process, thus settled to smooth the remaining batter into strips using a spatula and bench scraper. Results were, as expected, far less precise.

The loaf was baked at 325 F for 40 mins initially, as per Sunday's instructions. Using my countertop convection oven, the top was still bubbly and the cake undercooked. An additional 11 mins at 350 F granted doneness and a golden but somewhat burnt top. Baking at a consistent 350 F seems to yield a more preferable outcome.

​Ultimately, the checkerboard pattern did not materialize as planned. Each slice comprised of a unique configuration. Some were spotted, while others featuring streaks of varying widths. The patterns were prettiest at the centre of the cake, while the ends representative of the travel path of air bubbles.

In stark contrast to my earlier editions, this loaf saw the creation of strikingly large voids. The loaf was moist and the crumb anything but rigid, but the visually coarse texture led me to believe that the baking powder had not been incorporated well into the batter.

​A white chocolate glaze was compiled after a few slices had been obtained for sampling. Fragrant black sesame assumed the first tasting note, while grassy undertones lingered. I had exercised caution to prevent either batter from overpowering the other. Through a crunchy glaze, I had hoped to elevate the pair to greater heights.

Using a 1:10 ratio of oil to chocolate made for a thinner glaze. A total of three passes was required to achieve the 1-3 mm veil showcased in the my trial images. Previous iterations saw reduced amounts of chocolate from Sunday's original, as well as a higher proportion of chocolate than oil to facilitate a substantial, uniform glaze.

Throughout this recent rendition did I achieve broadened awareness of oil's impact. More oil was synonymous with:

• Improved fluidity: reduced risk of splotchiness and premature setting
• Improved cohesion/adherence: lower risk of glaze cracking when slicing after chilling

​The signature crunch persisted, albeit at the compromise of subdued nuttiness. For future attempts, I was advised to implement a boost in grassiness, whether it be swapping the matcha brand or increasing the amount. My personal takeaways placed emphasis on meticulous mixing of black sesame paste and potential sifting of dry ingredients to keep large, unattractive air bubbles at bay.