Out & About #1089 | Vegemite Caramel, A Fulsome Meltdown + Failed Ma Lai Goh

​The weekends now feel shorter than ever. Recuperating from the work week past consumes majority of the morning, as ongoing stressors and unresolved issues make for persistently restless sleep.

When Monday rolled around, I felt stifled to not have managed anything beyond recovery and fundamental chores. In the quiet periods where I had yet to receive unscheduled agonizing call, I worked quickly to realize the outlandish idea in mind. The availability of heavy cream that was imminently to expire, Vegemite that was otherwise unpalatable on its own, and the vast resource bank that is YouTube and Sunday Baking's repertoire led me to Vegemite Caramel.

Vegemite Caramel

The concept was that "If salted caramel works, why not Vegemite?" The latter is salty, in an undeniably funky way, but should theoretically develop into a similar output.

Adapted from Sunday Baking's Chocolate Salted Caramel Tart, I scaled the ingredient amounts to deplete the remainder of my heavy cream carton, then introduced a quarter teaspoon smear of the beloved Aussie spread.

• 140 g heavy cream
• 140 brown sugar
• 49 g unsalted butter
• 20 g corn syrup
• 5 g Vegemite (did not incorporate)

Yield: 1.5 cups

​All steps were adhered to as depicted in the recipe. Vegemite was added at the very end of the process, prior to straining. Unfortunately, it did not incorporate fully, as its proportion of stabilizers had caused seizing when added over heat. Straining the mixture removed a few bits, though the remainder was already sufficient in tinging the salty-sweet spread with its signature funkiness.

​Overall, the spread was pretty tasty over toasted whole wheat bread. The warmth of the toast would awaken the aromas of Vegemite, such that the olfactory senses would awaken before tasting. The caramel could also be used in dessert applications: drizzling a small amount over vanilla ice cream made for luscious, fudge-like streaks bursting with umami. At cooler temperatures, textural contrast was improved and funky fragrances were moderated.

Vegemite is very much an acquired taste. Although my interpretation retained some of its signature qualities, the spread served to introduce the spread in a subtle, familiar manner, with a faint twist.

​I also succeeded in tempering chocolate!

The turnout of the weekend baking session had sparked a sense of indignance - I was positively certain that I had completed all the steps accurately. My journey to redemption would involve Surfin instead of Blancor, meaning that the desired temperature would be 31-32 C as opposed to the 30 C required for white chocolate.

​I've definitely improved in terms of speed, for the very first attempt spanned up to one hour. Subsequent attempts were within the 20-30 minute range, while this latest attempt averaged fifteen minutes. After comprehensive mixing, seeding, mixing, and checking for a stabilized temperature, the contents of the bowl were poured into a mould. Excess was merely spread across a sheet of parchment.

It was through this process that I confirmed the need for patience. The allotment that had been allowed to rest untouched emerged perfectly shiny to touch and exuded a wondrous snap. In contrast, the slab that I had poked and probed out of impatience persisted with a matte finish that tracked fingerprints and refused to snap cleanly, exhibiting fuzzy edges and poor texture.
In summary, temperature control and patience remain critical to success in baking.

​As Monday evening loomed, I prepared halved Mugwort Madeleines, supported by white chocolate shards, for office distribution.

Unfortunately, the turnout was disheartening. As predicted, baked goods that deviate from the standard chocolate chip cookie or basic muffin were not popular with the masses. Floors with greater cultural diversity approached the specimens without issue, but it is regrettable to experience the unspoken bias even in sampling complimentary snacks. The suburban approach was utterly discouraging, as I had believed other urban hubs to be as inclusive as Toronto. Boy, was I wrong. There is clearly a tough road ahead.

Come lunchtime, my newly-befriended coworker joined me again for a speedy mall walk.

​% Arabica's opening summoned a small crowd. Not particularly fond of their coffee, I neared the display case strictly in curiosity of their merchandise. Thirty-five dollars for a scale was reasonable; the $200 manual travel grinder and carrying bag/totes priced over $100 were less so.

We roamed The Food District briefly, noting Pokémon sheet masks and HBAF popcorn (no almonds though) at Kibo. I would also lead the way to UNIQLO to take advantage of limited time sales. At the self-checkout, customers also had the option of making donations to Second Harvest after settling the transaction. Needless to say, I was glad to do so.

My impromptu visit to Läderach perhaps also shocked my coworker. Besides the format of purchasing chocolate slabs by weight, the stopover was conceivably pricey for the intricate, refined specimens.

Without much thought, I invested the Matcha Fusion White-Dark FrischSchoggi, Zürich Milk/Dark FrischSchoggi, and Strawberry-Curd White FrischSchoggi. The first two were Limited Edition offerings, as indicated by the stamped text on the back.
Harnessing a robust grassiness within silky chocolate, the Matcha Fusion truly did not disappoint! The staff member's personal recommendation of Zürich was comparably average, as I wasn't fond of the wafer and raspberry-blackberry yogurt pairing. The Strawberry-Curd White FrischSchoggi was purchased out of curiosity, but the Raspberry-Blackberry White FrischSchoggi reigns superior for its uninterrupted experience of perfectly sweet and tangy.

​What proceeded at 2 PM led to my inevitable breakdown. A 90-minute meeting scheduled to cover 4-5 topics ultimately unfolded into 2 hours and 40 minutes of sluggishly painful torture. While it would be unfair to say that I did not learn from the discussions held, the sheer length of the meeting was not constructive at all and absolutely draining. The extensive period contributed to furthering fatigue, headaches, and anxiety. I simply could not believe that someone could speak so slowly, in a seemingly never-ending manner without even covering beyond 1 of 5 topics.

I was burnt out and sick of it. This new job had not materialized in the way I had hoped. Instead of being fostered and challenged, the workload was accumulating without any signs of pausing for a chance to breathe. Every single concern raised about workload, stress, and pace was dismissed, for the goals of upper management were apparently more important than my own sanity.
Mental exhaustion had translated to physical weariness. Unable to bring myself to continue my regular routine of exercise, I headed over to my browsing partner instead. Though the primary goal was to present Vegemite Caramel, my stay eventually erupted in a flood of tears from accumulating pressure of the weeks past.

In searching for the reason behind my plummet in physical, mental, and emotional wellbeing, all instances pointed to one element: Poor direct management that did not respect boundaries.
Hindsight is 20/20, and my strained body and puffy eyes were a testament to that.

​Before heading home, I made one final stop at LCBO. If I wasn't able to escape my new reality just yet, I'd need to find small joys to cope for the time being.

I wasn't ready to head back the next day. But my in-office attendance wasn't optional. It again spiralled into ceaseless meetings, but I was quick enough to escape my desk for washroom and coffee breaks before unannounced calls could infiltrate my peace. Where the Microsoft Teams message notification induced annoyance, the WebEx call notification now causes my entire body to tense from trauma.

​A drizzly lunch period accompanied my way into Square One. Attention piqued by the Matcha & Sakura promotional poster at Hazukido, I entered in and reached for the Omikuji. By some twist of fate, my fortune was shockingly specific to my current situation; the following advice was provided:
"It is extremely tiring both mentally and physically to plan and implement changes in the present situation. So it is good luck and great prosperity to remain in the same situation, starts planning when opportunity arises."

One could interpret the occurrence as a coincidence, but I believe in fate. Ten hours away from revamping my CV, the fortune halted me in my steps.

​For the rest of the trip, I eagerly dashed about the shopping centre to get my day's worth of movement. Findings of Biscoff and Tim Tam at Walmart were quite the treat.

​Coconut Water was also procured. Matcha and coconut water hadn't occurred to me as a possible pairing until seeing my coworker's drink request at Cotti Coffee. Although results could vary vastly depending on the brand of coconut water and origin of matcha, Grace and Daigyo were surprisingly complementary. Neither overly bitter nor savoury, I declared the combination to be refreshing enough for consumption in large quantities.

​In the late afternoon hours, I hankered for as savoury snack. The rare craving presented an opportunity to sample Tim Hortons' Garlic Bread.

The warm loaf was presented in a square paper box. Covered with melted cheese and a generous dusting of seasoning powders, the creation utilized ciabatta as a base instead of uniform, crusty baguette slices. Garlicy without being overwhelming, I enjoyed the unexpected plushness of the bread and relatively minimal presence of oil. That said, I'd be unlikely to repurchase given the simplicity of the product and its ease of recreation.

Between the office days were regular ingestion of beer and radlers - beverages that assisted in keeping me sane enough to attend another day in the office.

​The Carlsberg Pilsner was deemed tastier than most pilsners sampled in my lifetime. Pump House Brewery's Crafty Radler with Melon and Prickly Pear was an artificially flavoured concoction suitable for after-meal drinking, but unlikely one to be purchased again.

​Only in consulting with a member of my team the afternoon before did I learn of a complimentary Pancake Breakfast scheduled for the following morning. As it turns out, new hires had been exempt from the list, but managerial staff had not caught the omission. With an unapologetic eyeroll, I heaved a sigh. Despite being included on every single work-related email/meeting possible, I had excluded from employee events and critical onboarding procedures. The suburban work culture was truly something else.

My expectations were understandably low, since a previous "pizza lunch" had included nothing beyond pizza pizza with scarce toppings, soft drinks, Kirkland cookies. ​Perhaps it was a consequence of the past letdown that I was overjoyed to lay eyes on not only pancakes, but eggs, sausages, fruit, and coffee/tea as well!

​At the early hour of 8 AM, two colourful fruit platters were spotted near the entryway. Adjacent were biodegradable plates and napkins, hot beverage dispensers, and cream and milk for those that desired them.

Buffet-style hot food containers and more biodegradable plates were found towards the back. Each employee was entitled to two pancakes, a spoonful of scrambled eggs, a handful of "hash browns" (but really, scrawny tater tots), two strips of bacon, and two sausages. Maple syrup, butter, ketchup, and utensils were positioned on the side as to facilitate flow of traffic.

Many had taken to the nearby booths to devour the meal. Seat turnover was high, so I technically could have grabbed a spot on site. Knowing no one, returning to my clean desk was obviously the preferred alternative.

My spread was admittedly attractive, with a brilliant assortment of fresh fruit to boot!

My spread was admittedly attractive, with a brilliant assortment of fresh fruit to boot! The pancakes were tasty, scrambled eggs somewhat artificial but otherwise scrumptious, bacon chewy yet substantial, and sausages salty but hearty. Juicy strawberries and sweet grapes were the highlight of the meal. The tater tots were the only component that could not be stomached whatsoever.

I depleted as much of the spread as possible, then eventually settled to package leftovers for taking home. Good thing for my inventory of office containers!

​Due to extreme satiation, I wasn't able to stomach lunch until the late hour of 2 PM.
After securing a pack of 97-cent pasta from Walmart, I made my way over to Chick-Fil-A to take advantage of their May-exclusive donation initiative. Frankly, I'd been aware of the partnership for some time, though wasn't able to take advantage of the deal until the final week of the month.

​The wait within approximated five minutes, though order placement and preparation was speedy. As a first-time Chick-Fil-A visitor, I wasn't well-informed about the various sauce pairing possibilities. Donating an "urgent item" would grant me a complimentary Chick-fil-A Chicken Sandwich, valued at a whopping $7.19 outside of combo pricing. The Sandwich would be accompanied with the customer's choice of sauce; I chose the classic Chick-fil-A sauce, despite not knowing its tasting notes.

Once the staff member had verified the expiry date of the donated item, she was ready to submit the order. At the last minute, I tacked on the order of a Side Salad for $5.09. The cashier had been extremely kind and helpful throughout the process, and gently reminded me that "I would have to pay" as the donation initiative only covered a single Sandwich. That was fine by me.

I experienced the infamous "My pleasure" before navigating towards the order pickup area. Swift was the retrieval process, as meals were ready in just under two minutes. I did find it interesting that both names and receipts were verified at the time of order pickup.

​Unveiling the spread back in the office, I discovered the Side Salad to be significantly larger than expected and the Chick-fil-A Sandwich to be comprised of no more than precisely two dill pickle strips and a breaded chicken fillet. On the underside of the synthetic-looking brioche bun was a tawny, glossy imprint - either a commercial form of butter or a rendition containing olive oil. The bun was unmissable, though the chicken fillet was tender and surprisingly well-textured. Seasonings included a basic blend of salt and pepper, but was sufficient when enjoyed with the delightfully mustard-y Chick-fil-A sauce.

Ma Lai Goh Attempt

​One of my ultimate dimsum favourites is Ma Lai Goh, or 馬拉糕. While one could argue that the cross-section is similar to Caramel Honeycomb Cake, the treat leans light and fluffy as opposed to textured and chewy. In delving into more of Papa Fung's recipes, I learned that Ma Lai Goh wasn't as simple of a steamed cake as I had envisioned. In order to recreate it, I'd need to procure lye water, quick rise/instant yeast, and custard powder. Other ingredients such as slab cane sugar and milk powder were also quite specific, but, as a Chinese household that regularly undertakes baking projects, these were thankfully readily available.

One and a half piece of slab cane sugar weighed in at 115 g, though comments underneath the video confirm the quantity to hover around the 100 g mark. Regardless, the inclusion of cane sugar did not present itself in the final product. The sponge cake was neither complex nor remotely sweet at all. It is also worth noting that its hue was noticeably more yellow than showcased by Papa Fung, whether before or after fermentation.

My batter also revealed itself more viscous, refusing to be passed through a strainer as Papa Fung had done. In a tapered aluminum mould, the cake baked at 350 F for about 25 minutes. I had believed the interior to be cooked through as a cake tester came back clean. Upon retrieving a slice though, I learned of a gummy, raw centre.

Transferring the round to the countertop convection oven, I tacked on 16 minutes of the steam-bake function to cook the centre. After baking, the bottom turned brown while its centre dehydrated and dense. Only the upper half of the cake was passable; the bottom half was porous, rigid, and shockingly bready. Instead of the glorious scent of cane sugar, I'd receive wafts of yeast when drawing near.

In a way, the cross-section reminded me of my former baking coworker's Bee Sting Cake. The compilation in reference was also a yeasted cake. That said, its texture was intended to be uniform, while Ma Lai Goh is not.

​​For future trials, I will definitely swap to slab sugar with a higher concentration of cane sugar. This substitution should rectify the strangely yellow hue and distinct lack of depth. As for the bread-like consistency, the most probable cause is the use of AP flour in place of cake flour. Although I am often able to use a 1:1 swap of pastry flour to AP flour, batters that contain yeast or are prone to gluten formation may see drastically different results when meticulously mixed.