Out & About #870 | A New Year Feat. Oat Fudge Bar (Ver. 4) + Pistachio Strawberry Cake

The seemingly reflective nature of New Years has slipped by me in the midst of tumultuous return to work measures.

After recovering from late NYE happenings (complete with a failed McD's run), I awoke to a groggy state, then gradually eased myself into productivity, first chores then the compilation of SK's Lemon Potatoes.

Maximizing an unused packet of Little Gems from Christmas dinner, I swiftly removed questionable bits of the baby potatoes and halved them for increased surface area. The recipe was executed in a square baking pan doubly lined with foil, as opposed to the rectangular pan I tend to gravitate towards for roasting. The decision had been made on the basis of potato count, though I'll be reverting to the larger pan in future attempts to ensure uniform heat exposure and distribution of the lemon-infused chicken broth mixture.

A Lemon Taiyaki obtained from a recent P.A.T. run was sampled throughout this construction process. The pastry wasn't discovered to be expired until at least twenty four hours following acquisition. I toasted it nonetheless, and was rewarded with nothing more than a dense, cakey batter and dimensionless, starch-thickened sugary filling. This Kevin's Taiyaki was utterly unsatisfactory, unlike the crispy-custardy goodness of the Koreatown.

​At being made aware of my sudden Thai Tea cravings, the sleepy polar bear responded promptly by offering delivery of Yang's. Alas, the tea shop was discovered closed upon arrival. Mango Sticky Rice was a runner-up, but logistically unviable; Basil Box was the closest alternative, but somehow had run out of Thai Tea. Thairoomgrand's obscenely sweet was procured, yet served only to appease Thai tea needs by 70%.

I blacklisted the establishment's beverage, then proposed trying Bobacha in Port Credit when cravings surfaced again. (Though, I will admit to a lack of fondness for all districts in and surrounding Hurontario due to the ongoing mayhem that is Hurontario LRT construction. Between the various ongoing utility relocations to lane closures, it is simply much easier to avoid the area altogether.)

​One of my "New Year's Resolutions" - in quotations, as it's not particularly restricted to enforcement within a calendar year - was to allocate more time for recovery - "me time", as the wellness folk like to term it. Actively scheduling "me time" into one's calendar is easier said than done, especially for those with rampant ideas running through their head at all times of consciousness. While the woes of my immediate circle comprise of "lack of motivation", "difficulties in getting started", and furthering existing skills (as opposed to adopting the new), my struggles are admittedly different. At the stark opposite of the spectrum, I strive to achieve awareness before reaching the point of burnout, to prevent my ceaselessly fervent desires from getting the best of me, and to assure myself that "it's acceptable to not pursue all opportunities" for sanity's sake. Maximizing potential is my forte, however the act often conflicts with the physical limitations of time and space. Having felt endlessly fatigued for extended periods of time, I embarked on a journey to comprehend the reasoning, and then experiment with possible solutions.

Circumstances may not always permit, but consciously stepping away from the action may be a start to sustainable energy levels. Alas, at this time, there is no foolproof solution.

​Day-to-day happenings seem dire in comparison to my peers. Life tends to progress smoothly for them, while I'm kept at a standstill regardless of efforts for improvement. Where one issue is resolved, another surfaces.

I find joy in fundamental aspects of living: pilates and dance for mobility and strength, successful baking turnouts, and when my chosen craft beer proves tasty. Having said that, there may also be value in scaling back consumption; majority of such fluids have recently returned with cough syrup-like notes.

​Back to the office I went on Wednesday. First was an hour-long drive to the Markham office. I had hoped to complete errands in the area and secure a Wi-Fi-secured place to continue working afterwards.

My coworker had been kind enough to coordinate an in-office presence for my building access, and even provided breakfast in the form of piping hot Pandesal! The bread roll arrived still warm from the oven, plush and fabulously thready. Mild cheesy notes could be identified between its fluffy contents.

​Lunchtime marked a stop at LCBO, the long-awaited retrieval of Yuzu Choya from a lover of stars and pigs, and, of course, CoCo. When our proposed stops of Jatujak and J-Town respectively revealed themselves too sluggish and closed, I quickly detoured to Tiny Toms.

The location was quite odd, given the staggering presence of Chinese eateries in the vicinity. Nonetheless, I was ecstatic to finally realize my CNE cravings. In-store prices were notably cheaper than event-specific outposts. An 8-pack of mini donuts would set me back $4.50, while a dozen $6.00. Even during pre-inflation periods, a dozen would have retailed at $6.50 in 2018 holiday markets and $7.00 in 2019 at Wonderland. Summer 2022 prices were observed at $7.50.

​The seasonal flavour of Gingerbread had appealed to me, though I erred on the side of caution, for flavours could not be mixed. My 8-pack of Icing Sugar donuts was served warm and vanished in a matter of moments. Served fresh, these were splendidly soft and fabolous. My only gripe was the icing sugar cloud that would escape from the paper pouch onto my black pants every time I clenched the bag shut.

A drizzly, dark sixty-four-minute commute back awaited at 3:33 PM. That evening, I collapsed into Larry, Mini Sulley, and Mr. Buttons, allowing their ductile, boneless bodies to absorb my weariness.

​Midtown would be waiting on Thursday morning. At 7:10 PM sharp, my carpooling partner pulled onto my asphalt apron. We would then set out for yet another day in the city.

My lunchtime runs were typical: First came Indigo for interactions with Mr. Buttons and Mr. Tophat.
One of each remained, looking surprisingly less grey than anticipated. Nearing the display, I observed a half-masked woman with wrinkly, spotted hands gripping Mr. Buttons. I slid behind a nearby shelf, witnessing the squeezing, flipping, and poking of his fragile, furry body. Shortly afterwards, he was roughly dumped onto the display once more, and Mr. Tophat was evaluated by the wrinkly digits instead.

When she finally dismissed them both, I utilized the opportunity to approach the duo. They were now priced at 50% off, Mr. Tophat and Mr. Buttons at $12.50 and $15.00 respectively. I also discovered Mr. Tophat's sparkly, threaded eyes, which contrasted against Mr. Buttons' three-dimensional, coal-coloured beads.

I repositioned Mr. Buttons' right arm, which had been brutally bent beneath his body. Then, I proceeded on my way.

An impressive amount of Christmas décor was found at Dollarama and Kitchen Stuff Plus, leading to the impromptu purchases of snowman napkins and a three-piece cookie stamp set. Though the transition was still in progress, it was undeniable that seasonal products for the next Hallmark holiday were already beginning to appear: Valentine's Day and Easter were next.

​​After browsing west elm in search of cake stands, I began my slow trek back to the office. Along the way was Starbucks, where a Pistachio Cream Cold Brew was secured. The beverage was purely average for the first half, then grew increasingly more enjoyable as the foam was incorporated into the caffeinated bottom half. Lightly fragrant with a luxurious, creamy finish, the presumably limited time offering was rather delicious.

​On the last day of the work week, I suffered a morning of unproductiveness. Beyond experiencing general fatigue, my work laptop simply refused to power on. It wasn't until lunch time that the issue was resolved.

After diving into a Chicken Katsu Donburi and Sashimi, Sushi & Big California from Hiroi Sushi, work would resume. Exclusively salmon sashimi had been requested of the H8 combo, and honoured with the additional fee of two dollars. Might I add, it was a worthy upgrade.

Creations of the week included:

1) Vietnamese Honeycomb Cake (Banh Bo Nuong)

I came across this recipe by chance. Despite failing to recall whether I had ever sampled an authentic version, I quickly scanned the ingredient list and directions, then deemed it possible for construction.

Tapioca flour, rice flour, baking soda, and cream of tartar were familiar names (and sights) in our household. I also had more than enough eggs and was eager to use them.

​While I wasn't convinced of using scissors in a Stainless steel or Pyrex bowl, I did exercise caution to whisk without incorporating air, for it seemed to be the  ̶f̶a̶u̶l̶t̶y̶ logic behind the apparatus choice. Pandan leaves, water, and colouring were substituted with several drops of pandan extract. Butter was whisked in before sieving. Actualization of the recipe was consistent otherwise.

Source: The Beth Kitchen

I succeeded in obtaining the stringy honeycomb texture on my first attempt, though found excessive dampness in the lower half of the cake. It is uncertain whether using coconut milk instead of coconut cream yielded this chroma difference, but the result was scrumptious nonetheless. Lightly crunchy was the exterior, and structured yet spongy was the interior. Perceived from the cross-section was a buttery fragrance laced with extremely subtle hints of pandan and coconut. I had taken to pandan extract for convenience, but belatedly discovered the apparent availability of pandan leaves at T&T, should I wish to undertake a second iteration.

​The textured specimen lost moisture over the subsequent days, thus it is advised to seal tightly if enjoying over several sittings. Zapping with a microwave for ten seconds is also acceptable.

2) Mini Genmaicha Basque Cheesecake

Basque Cheesecake is a seemingly fuss-free method of utilizing cream cheese: it requires no crust-making efforts, the baking time is less than that of a traditional cheesecake, and can be served in a roughly-fitted parchment paper lining. However, despite multiple attempts, results are rarely consistent. The surface has never reached the charcoal tone to exude bitterness, while the inside is often completely set or curdled and lumpy.

I had aimed to formulate three mini basque cheesecakes for ease of gifting. The original flavour profiles had ranged between oolong and Earl Grey, but was swapped to Genmaicha in the last instance due to leftovers resulting from Genmaicha Truffles.

​Sunday Baking's recipe had yielded success last time, so I took to scaling the formula for one block of Philadelphia cream cheese. Each 250g block has an effective mass of 240-243 g. Eggs were reduced from 3 whole and 1 yolk to 2 whole and 1 yolk, which I had expected to assist with a custardy centre. But oh, how optimistic I was.
​
With the oven fluctuating between 425 F and 450 F, the three 4-in specimens were baked between 20-25 minutes. While resisting jiggliness, the tops had yet to transform into the coveted coal-coloured cover. I removed the trio at this point, then allowed them to cool to room temperature before transferring to the fridge.

To my dismay, the cross-sections were flat and lumpy - fully cooked instead of gooey. There was also a distinct savouriness to the cake, which ought to have been compensated with a greater amount of sugar. Hints of genmaicha could still be perceived, but not at an intensity deemed acceptable by my carpooling partner.

3) Blue Sky Bran Muffins

​I rest assured that these need no introduction. ​Sour cream contributed volume along with structural integrity, reigning as the more preferable choice (versus plain yogurt).

4) Oat Fudge Bar (Version 4)

​When I mentioned previous attempts at recreating - and bettering - Starbucks' Oat Fudge Bar, my coworker immediately implored for the recipe. Sheepishly, I admitted to not yet perfecting the formula, and deferred distribution to a later date.

With one egg white left over from the mini basque cheesecakes, the opportunity to further my analysis was granted. Reviewing past recipe notes, I took to reducing the overall flour content from 100g to 85g and swapping out all-purpose for whole wheat bread flour altogether.

​Using whole wheat bread flour did not bring about any distinct differences, other than the mixture being more spreadable. The most notable effect of reducing the flour content was oil seepage. The oat mixture had been allowed to rest at room temperature while the brownie batter was prepared for the fudge layer. When it came to assembly time, a pool of oil was witnessed escaping the batter. In an attempt to combat this, 20g more of oats were folded in, increasing the total amount of oats to 100g. Unfortunately, this was insufficient in halting seepage. During the baking process, the oil would rise to the brownie layer, rendering it runny. Baking time was added to ensure doneness across all three layers. 

The bar was unnecessarily greasy. I attempted to sample the edge after roughly fifteen minutes of cooling, and was rewarded with a scalded tongue and horrific crumbliness. A slice-able consistency was not achieved over time, however. Version 4 was friable and any attempts to transfer the bar led to shambles of oat and chocolate.

Version 3 was undoubtedly more well-rounded. The brownie was, of course, as tasty as always. For the next iteration, I note the following:

• It is not advised to reduce the flour content, as oil would escape the mixture.
• If reducing flour, it is probably best to also reduce the oil content and add egg whites for stability, much like with granola bars.
• The oil-butter mixture was formed using 52g oil and 61g of melted butter, however it may be ideal to include a higher proportion of butter for improved aromas.

5) Pistachio Strawberry Cake

I've often declared, to no one in particular, that Sunday Baking posts at the perfect opportunity. This is often displayed by her timely recipe uploads re-purposing certain soon-to-expire materials. In this case, it was less of fresh produce reaching the end of their edible lifespan, and more of a jar of pistachio paste I had promised handover to the sleepy polar bear once I had concluded experimental procedures.

Not one to be fond of the market price of pistachios, nor their shelled nature, I tended to swap in more widespread or convenient alternatives such as pecans or black sesame, for seeds are also high in fat, but less dense than nuts.
This time, though, I had pistachio paste on hand, and I was ready to use it.

For once, I adhered to Sunday's recipe in its entirety, neither altering the tools nor process for flexibility sake. The pan size was kept consistent at 6 inches, and I even floated the whipped cream over an ice bath to obtain the different masking/filling consistencies.
The cake, being devoid of oil and butter, seemed tricky to pull off. For assurance, I sifted the cake flour twice, a step I usually dismiss as it requires more bowls, more washing, and more time. I also heeded the instructions to incorporate the flour in four (relatively uniform) additions. To adjust for the added sugar in the Costco-sourced jar of Pisti, the meringue was formed using 55g of sugar instead of 90g. It is worth noting that a reduction in sugar can sometimes lead to reduced stability, thus I first whipped the whites at a high speed to stabilize the structure, then gradually shifted to medium and low speeds to maintain longevity.

​The sponge emerged beautiful, with well-distributed air bubbles, inducing a sigh of relief. While still learning to use the cake cutting bars, the layers emerged uneven, more so than if I had rotated the rounds and sliced without aids. That said, the sponge was very forgiving, allowing repetitive trimming and even the removal and reinstatement of whipped cream when I had accidentally omitted the addition of syrup.

​The pistachio cream, on the hand, was runnier than I would have liked. Truthfully, it would have fared significantly better - both visually and texturally - after refrigeration, but my innate impatience had only inflated after six hours of non-stop labour. On the first day, the cake layers were a tad rigid and the cream too soft for my liking. After twenty-four hours of refrigeration though, it was absolutely scrumptious. Chilling had allowed the cake layers to become plush and moist, yet not adopting any hint of rigidity; the cream had also been allowed to stabilize, amounting to a satisfyingly mouthfeel that complemented our impeccably fresh, ripe strawberries.

Admittedly, my piping and icing skills remain lacklustre. Minor advancements have likely taken place since the towering mocha monster of Mother's Day two years past, but these competencies, as with many physical and social capacities, are under ongoing development. As much as I wish to swiftly "own the process", life happenings constantly serve to remind that existence and productivity are not necessarily synonymous.