Out & About #924 | Two-Bite Brownie Trials, Molasses Loaf + Matcha Pistachio White Chocolate Chip Cookies

Mondays at home are great - stellar, even.
My approach towards work-from-home has undeniably altered since departing the tremendously toxic sector of consulting. While I still strive to unlock new levels of productivity and potential, it is easier to delineate between corporate duties and after-hours responsibilities. The coveted "work-life balance" is much easier to attain when one is able to log off on time.

​During work hours, I luxuriate in the presence of Larry, good music, and a plethora of snacks at my fingertips. And when the time comes to commence pilates, I simply go - free of qualms that my expertise may be summoned between the hours of 7-10 PM.

At-home periods also allowed for creativity in the kitchen. As such, I delved into the world of two-bite brownies, eager to perfect the recipe.

Preppy Kitchen's Two-Bite Brownie recipe was an utter disaster. It depleted nearly a third of my cocoa powder inventory with a whopping 67 g inclusion. The formula was the first of any brownie batter undertaken by yours truly that did not involve melted chocolate couverture, instead deriving the entirety of its profile from mere cocoa powder.

​Results were cakey as opposed to fudgy, with a lingering bitterness from the cocoa powder in the absence of acidic constituents such as brown sugar. Its saving grace was that it did not stick to the pan, however the single attribute was insufficient in warranting satisfaction. Back to Sunday Baking and smitten kitchen it was!

Constructed within the same day was SK's take on individually portioned brownies. The formula was similar to that of Sunday's, wherein chocolate was melted with butter then whisked with sugar. Thorough aeration of eggs made for beautiful crackles on the surface. Unfortunately, these moist, scrumptious morsels fell victim to the same fate as Sunday's for the bottoms crumbled in the pan.

The tops were salvaged and portioned out for distribution. Meanwhile, the bottoms were spooned out of all thirty cavities then formed into small spheres. These marble-sized specimens would be transferred to the fridge while a coating was prepared. Drawing inspiration from Sunday Baking's Condensed Milk Pound Cake recipe, I combined white chocolate couverture, genmaicha powder, and several drops of vegetable oil to form a bittersweet glaze. Cake pop-like morsels yielded from two careful coats of the mixture. They were dense, but not at all unpalatable.

Any remaining portions of my trials would be brought to the office for rapid depletion.

​Finding myself longing to reboot my interest in beading for customizable, budget-friendly DIY bracelets, I returned to old stomping grounds of the Fashion District. The three-level Michaels never ceased to impress with its product assortment, albeit their generally pricey nature.

Dust-covered tubes of beads failed to enthrall me, though Juicy Couture charm bracelet kits and paint-it-yourself jigsaw puzzles were rather intriguing.

Trekking north along John, I encountered a colourful array of vendors, questionable gazes inciting potential malicious intent, and the entrance to the Grange Park Promenade. Odd was Thor's relocation to the noticeably less affluent neighbourhood of co-op housing and start-up office spaces.

​Beverley Street, Grange Avenue, and Huron Street formed an orthogonal path from southeast to northwest. At its north limit was Chicha San Chen, the first location beyond British Columbia and the only location in the province of Ontario.

Since being recommended to try the Taiwanese bubble tea spot last year, I had managed a visit with orderlyblue in the same trip. Our wait time had been nonexistent, and our drinks delicious without being excessively pricey.

​Similar remarks simply could not be extended to the Chinatown outpost. The patio was brimming with tourists, identifiable with their towing of carry-on baggage and unhurried counting of Canadian bills. I endured an excruciating wait of twenty minutes, sans-bathroom for relief of sticky hands, before surrendering a whopping $8.98 for my drink of choice.

Alas, the Osmanthus Oolong Tea was impeccable: refreshing with soul-cleansing properties, or so it felt anyway. Additions of Passion Fruit flavouring and a supposedly limited time Cherry Blossom Konjac topping set me back an additional loonie each. 

Hurrying back to the office, I debated skipping one of the remaining destinations on my agenda, but ultimately decided against punctuality.

​Isabella's Mochi Donuts had opened up shop at St. Patrick and Queen, making for a swift detour on the route back.

The selection plucked by the sleepy polar bear had been sugary, stifling, and mediocre at best. However, my own picks of Pandan Kaya and Maja Blanca ranked significantly higher in my books.

While there were merely modest hints of pandan and kaya (at best), the texture of the $4.50 ring donut was superb! It is worth noting that the specimen was quite filling in spite of its (surprisingly) grease-free profile.

The filled Maja Blanca brought about major reservations towards the inclusion of sweet corn kernels in dessert. Coated liberally with granulated sugar, the donut made for a beyond disastrous consumption process. The custard within was great, though not exactly compatible with random bits of corn. I couldn't shake its association to grilled corn on the cob, neither my tried-and-true yumcha item of zeen dui/jian dui instead. Frankly, the latter earned greater preference for its wonderfully aromatic sesame-sprinkled surface and sweet, voluminous interior.

​With the arrival of a new day came yet another trip into the city. The commute via regional train isn't atrocious by any means, especially when compared to the dreadfulness of TTC. But that's a low bar.

My only gripe is the northbound trek in humid climate conditions, usually undertaken on narrow sidewalks - often made narrower during the summer months to accommodate scaffolding - and accompanied by many waddling tourists and the essential urban homeless resident.

​Sporadic showers made for atypically cool walking conditions. Sauntering northwest, I arrived at the Thai ahgase's recommendation of Butter & Blue in about fifteen to twenty minutes.

The outdoor seating area was vacant, as expected amidst drizzly weather and an uncovered patio. Within the muted daisy yellow establishment was an ambient seating area filled to near capacity with patrons busily typing away on laptops, socializing in a small party, or perusing the pages of a - gasp - printed publication. Books were available for borrowing during one's stay as well. Another shelf featured knickknacks and coffee brewing equipment.

Nearing the cashier were the menus, hung tapestry-style. Nearby was a sign indicating bathrooms on the basement level; the stairwell, like the café interior was lined with framed pieces of artwork.

​While Yelp images of the newish spot had already infomred me, the coffee shop would tack on an additional thirty-five cent charge for takeout cups. The cashier confirmed this eco fee, though noted that ceramic cups for dine-in customers would be free of charge. Though, that tidbit would not be applicable to me.
The Small and Large cup sizes were confirmed to be 12 oz. and 16 oz. respectively, should I wish to bring along my own reusable mug in the future. Without one handy though, I pointed towards two baked goods instead: the Matcha Mochi Cake and Miso Sesame Rice Krispie. The duo was amongst the popular items on the Internet, thus my expectations were high.

Alas, the Matcha Mochi Cake was confirmed to be horribly inferior to any and all iterations of own butter mochi (906). The profile was one that I would have likely sampled one bite, then dismissed on the account of it being a failure. Devoid of buttery aromas and a crisp surface, it was as if all depth had been extracted from the product.

The Miso Sesame Rice Krispie had piqued an interest in regards to the integration of the savoury aspect. However, it proved itself even more disappointing than its glutinous rice-based counterpart. At its core was a very faint dose of umami, but the miso component was otherwise indiscernible. Toasted sesame seeds added a nice crunch, but the square was, overall, quite mundane tasting, especially with an extensive array of Rice Krispie experiments in my creation catalog.

​Suffice to say: neither item was remotely worthy of its four-dollar price tag.

​Explorations within the vicinity comprised of: a "Wizard Market" across from the AGO, Hitachino Nest being offered in Baldwin Village's Ronin Izakaya, an insanely fumy interior associated with The Flower Cake Café (plus an adjacent Korean-operated corner store), and Sulley band-aids at Miniso.

​With vendor setup underway for Taste of Vietnam underway, I was hopeful about procuring an iced Vietnamese coffee before returning to afternoon meetings. Unfortunately, none of the booths were ready to commence retail operations, as the even was not slated to start until later in the evening, at around 6 PM.

Creations of the week (beyond unsuccessful two-bite brownies) included:

1) Matcha Pistachio White Chocolate Chip Cookies

Matcha white chocolate chip cookies was a formula I hadn't touched in years - not because I lost fondness for the combination, but rather since countless attempts still failed to yield the desired consistency and complexity.

When a fresh bag of Momo Tea's Matsu had been obtained on a recent visit to Musoshin, it was deemed the appropriate opportunity to try again. Naturally, I made a beeline for Sunday Baking's White Chocolate Green Tea Cookie.

All cookies emerge from essentially identical constituents, diverging merely in their proportions of sugar (brown sugar for chewiness and granulated for crunchiness) and state of fat (melted/liquid or softened/solid). Sunday had taken to creaming softened butter with a hand mixer; brown sugar and granulated sugar were added in a 2:1 ratio, which would likely make for a texture that was two parts chewy and one part crisp.

As a consequence of overheating my butter, I ended up starting with melted butter instead, into which the sugars were whisked vigorously. Next came the egg, then the flours and baking soda. Along with an unmeasured quantity of chopped white chocolate couverture were toasted, chopped pistachios - shelled by hand by yours truly as the molasses loaf was wrapping up its time in the oven.

While the dough was initially quite soft to handle, about fifteen minutes in the fridge assisted in improving texture tremendously. The guacamole-looking batter - complete with partially-shelled pistachio bits giving the illusion of diced red onion - made for exactly sixteen tablespoon-sized rounds, all of which were baked on the same day of assembly, given that baking soda-containing formulas induce instantaneous reactions (learned the hard way with Brownie Cookies).

The first batch of twelve were arranged with roughly 1 inch of space in between, and spread noticeably. The second batch comprised of just four cookies and were arranged with two to three inches in between; it was likely that this formation improved heat distribution/air circulation, as these four were observed to be slightly taller than the rest.

Despite foreboding impatience, I reluctantly waited it out. Once completely cooled, my grippy digits reached for the closest cookie.
It demonstrated a whiff of absolute elegance: the grassiness of matcha blended with the nutty, caramel notes of post-Maillard reaction products. Each and every bite was amazing - heavenly even. Edged in a crunchy circumference was a chewy, delectable centre - everything that any cookie lover could ever want! Pistachios provided the soft crunch known to macadamia, but elevated with its unmistakably fragrant appeal. (Toasting of nuts is never optional, unless used as a topping wherein they would brown anyways.)

Though it wasn't Put A Cone On It's perfect recreation, it was no less enjoyable of a matcha cookie.

2) Dark Molasses Cake

Spurred by a seemingly ceaseless dive into topics of passion, a coworker and I began to excited share recipes sparking affection. Amongst her roster was a Molasses Cake. It was moist, dark, and everything it claimed to be, even when cooking molasses was used in place of blackstrap molasses.​

The ingredient quantities would yield a gargantuan 10-inch cake, more than I would ever require of a never-before-tried recipe. After converting the units from US to metric, I further proceeded to halve the recipe to yield one loaf's worth. It had, without dispute, been the informed choice.

Uniform air pockets filled the cross-section of the loaf, which was moist around its edges yet resilient in retaining its structure. For the most part, it lacked depth. My decision to reserve a thin, pre-cooled slice from the end had been a just one, for it informed of the need of a milky, substantial counterpart.
The original recipe had served it with a generous smother of cream cheese frosting, though I would swap it out for an orange extract- and vanilla bean-laced mousse instead. For starters, it was easier to construct; it also did not involve a special trip to the grocery store (which I wouldn't have bothered with anyway).

Even with the mousse topping, the loaf lacked depth. It was rigid and dense after chilling, and even more one-dimensional in profile. As to preserve its moist properties, I would declare the cake best served at room temperature. For lovers of molasses, it could easily be seen as the ideal holiday treat. For those less fond of the typically seasonal syrup, I'd recommend additions of grated ginger and a warm caramel glaze for some festive spice.

Baker Koala urges us - or perhaps, me - to "Enjoy baking!"
Personally, the act of simply "enjoying" is impossible. A process without tangible outcomes is absurd and nothing more than a poor use of productive hours. After one success is another hurdle. House on a Hill has never felt so real.