Nonexistent vacation days are decidedly unfamiliar to me. Known to accumulate days off for as long as carryover will permit, I approached both the long weekend and my birthday month without a single opportunity for liberation.
Returning to the office immediately after a day of non-stop laundry, I was exhausted and irritable. There was little to enlighten my day beyond the birthday freebies I was set to redeem.
Returning to the office immediately after a day of non-stop laundry, I was exhausted and irritable. There was little to enlighten my day beyond the birthday freebies I was set to redeem.
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My beloved cold brew and a Maple Crème Cookie held me sane until lunchtime, at which point I exited onto the homeless-infested streets of the city. Brutally hot it was, causing me to maneuver speedily into the air-conditioned space of Eaton.
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At The Body Shop, I was informed that my redemption period had not yet commenced. Moreover, I would be unable to redeem given that purchases had not been made within the past six months. A one-dollar pin solved this dilemma for the time being; I'd merely return in the upcoming weeks for the lavender (and vetiver) essential oil of interest.
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A ten-minute wait ensued at Sephora afterwards, followed by swift footsteps to Chatime. Complimentary beverages were limited to regular-sized offerings beyond the Espresso menu and devoid of toppings. My pick of Thai Espresso Milk Tea was reduced to the generic Thai Milk Tea, sans java.
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Regardless of the number of years of operation, this Chatime outpost remains the slowest. Customer service was friendly, though I nearly choked on laughter at the pre-stabbing service. Paper straws seem to give rise to more functional issues than environmental benefit.
Back in the office, I upgraded my drink with a condensed version of G7. The inclusion of instant coffee provided an instant boost of complexity.
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Around the mid-day mark on Wednesday, I began experiencing a dry throat. The condition later evolved into fieriness, reaching a state of pain and unwillingness to speak in the evening. Salt water and ginger yuzu tea were immediately deployed to combat the symptoms. However, the soreness persisted.
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I'd fight my way past irritation for visits to the gym, then re-hydrate as needed afterwards. Post-dinner indulgences of craft beer (and, more recently, wine) were substituted with warm water and Dessert Soup with White Fungus, Papaya, and Red Dates.
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At long last, having finished the last of my Good Grief bag, Third Wave Coffee's Tres Dragones was unveiled for use!
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The barista had been correct: It was as refreshing as it was rich in a chilled Pourover, yet paired perfectly with lemonade, Ribena, and carbonated water in a fizzy Espresso Lemonade.
Meals of the week comprised of leftovers from the weekend (unpictured), Minced Pork and Eggplant over Steamed Rice and Choy Sum, and a hearty, soothing bowl of Well-Done Brisket Pho from Pho Big Bowl.
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Instead of keeping with my annual request of Nian Gao for my birthday, I opted to delve in the direction of a Chocolate Mousse Cake. My heart yearned for a moist, cocoa-laced sponge and sturdy, luscious filling of chocolate mousse. But not just any would do - no, I specifically wanted Ganache Montée, the addicting kind that had been frosted across the sleepy polar bear's triple-threat Pistachio Cake.
Maybe it was the absence of pistachio paste for stabilizer, but swapping out Blancor for an equivalent mass of Surfin was insufficient in producing the desired consistency. The moist chocolate cake sponge I had been considering would utilize black cocoa powder, an ingredient from which my sore throat begged to abstain. In the absence of both time and patience, Sunday Baking's No Butter Victoria Sponge base served as the ideal compromise: one bowl, hand-whisked, and absolutely no tempering of eggs.
I had chosen to bake the cake in a single aluminum pan instead of two, for one had already been lined from a previous venture. The lining was far from perfect though, and a portion of the batter escaped to the side. Eventually, it refused to adhere, forming a well in the side of the finished cake. Out of haste, I detached the section and promptly devoured it.
Time was ticking as I proceed with the project. The cake had barely enough time to cool before they were sliced and layered with the whipped chocolate ganache montée. Residual heat and asymmetrical layers proved tragic for stacking, with the top sliding right off within minutes of transferring to the refrigerator.
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Thinking quickly, an acetate strip was looped around the mousse-y mess, then fitted with a mousse ring for structure. Several hours would pass before my return from errands.
The mousse, much like the batter, had escaped from beyond the edges of the acetate sheet: It was the price I paid for my hurried assembly. Piping on the remainder of the ganache montee, I realized that it was too loose and further revealed signs of separation. A stabilizer, or higher proportion of chocolate, is likely needed for the next iteration; even seconds at room temperature would see steady disintegration.
The mousse, much like the batter, had escaped from beyond the edges of the acetate sheet: It was the price I paid for my hurried assembly. Piping on the remainder of the ganache montee, I realized that it was too loose and further revealed signs of separation. A stabilizer, or higher proportion of chocolate, is likely needed for the next iteration; even seconds at room temperature would see steady disintegration.
Despite the calamity that overtook my kitchen, the cake was quite delicious! The sponge, given its incorporation of milk and oil, was as plush as Sunday had assured. Swapping out 20 g of all-purpose flour for cocoa powder had also been sufficient in contributing chocolatey-ness without overwhelming my throat on fire. The fridge had been depleted of heavy whipping cream, otherwise a butter-infused ganache would likely have been constructed for a drizzle (assuming structural integrity of the ganache montée).
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