Out & About #970 | Back-to-Office Transition, Chocolate Ganache Montée Mini Roll + Carrots Three Ways

I declared my first day back in the office on Tuesday morning. Both cold brew and a boneless lunch had been prepared, my laptop was packed, and outfit was planned. Yet, strangely enough, I had forgot to check weather conditions and, more importantly, whether the GO train schedule had been revised since the offset of the new year.

Thankfully, all elements of the morning commute worked in my favour: temperatures hovered about a mild -1 C without wind, traffic was dense but flowed steadily, and the GO train schedule had maintained consistency with that of last December's.

​My arrival in the workplace was not met without commentary. Between the surprised expressions was a distinct cheeriness coupled with some sarcasm and concern.

Presented to me was a double-sided poker chip magnet originating from a coworker's New Year's Eve shenanigans in Las Vegas, as well as brief recounts of in-office happenings during my absence.

Solo lunch walks would resume, naturally. A peculiar snow-rain mix descended on the city, making for damp, slushy trek to and from Chinatown.

Located at Spadina and Sullivan, Hong Kong Island was the singular Chinese bakery I had excluded from my summer sojourn, purely on the basis of proximity. When its economic prices had been advertised on social media, I set out to affirm the poster's claims, and whether buns were indeed under three dollars.

​The entrance of the establishment led one into the dining area, a space of plastic tables and light orange walls. To its right was the bakery section, a surprisingly neat assortment of classic and contemporary bread and pastry. Between the timeless hot dog and pineapple buns were Cheese Bricks and Charcoal Buns.

Prices were confirmed to be reasonable after all. My tray comprised of the following:

• Pineapple Bun / 菠蘿包
• Pineapple Bun with BBQ Pork (for research purposes
• Hot Dog (Sausage) Bun / 腸仔包
• Chicken Pie / 雞批
• Walnut Cookie / 合桃酥
• Coconut Bun bundle / 雞尾包
• Tiger Roll Cake
• Peanut Rice Cake

A receipt had neither been provided nor requested, but the cash total of all items came to $19.89 - essentially the equivalent of two pouches of butter cookies, one pack of Pai Bao, one BBQ Pork Bun, and one Coffee Roti in Montréal.

​Cake slices, dim sum, and meal combos were also on offer at the counter, though I refrained from further investment until the quality of bakery items could be confirmed.

The first leg of the trip was fairly quick. Routing back to the east side of Spadina, I continued in the direction of Dim Sum King. The intent had been to acquire cha siu to supplement supper.

Climbing the three flights of stairs to the restaurant, I pulled open the double doors to reveal a familiar sight (197). The host greeted me from his station, posing the question of "How many guests?" in Cantonese. Instead of dine-in however, I sought out cha siu for takeout. Unlike Summit Garden or Sam Woo/Magic, the restaurant appeared to be devoid of a BBQ section, yet the request could be fulfilled from the kitchen. One pound of BBQ Pork set me back $15 in cash, and a grueling fifteen-minute wait amidst off-peak weekday yum cha hours.

​My Hong Kong Island findings were revealed upon returning to the office, hair and down jacket thoroughly dampened and deflated. The BBQ Pork Pineapple Bun was mediocre - cold with a filling primarily comprised of onions and a scarcity of cha siu, if any at all. That said, the standalone bun with its crunchy cookie topping was quite delicious.

Savoured later were my other picks, with the Hot Dog Bun proving average, Walnut Cookie pliable and unnecessarily greasy, Tiger Roll Cake peculiar and unappetizing, Chicken Pie barren of chicken with an obnoxiously sweet pastry, Coconut Bun lacking in filling, and regular Pineapple Bun tasty but not gratifying.​

Where the downtown core received snow that instantly transformed into rain upon coming into contact with any surface, the GTA suburbs saw accumulation of wet snow. The difference was undeniable while navigating northward.

Against my better judgement, I delved into the marbled slices of cha siu immediately once home. Pilates was deferred to after indulgence and saw crippling stomach pains - a stomachache from hell. There was difficulty digesting the heavy dose of grease. Consequently, I suffered nausea and yet another near-fainting spell that ended with vomiting and diarrhea.
Some things were just not meant to be.

A miracle recovery was made and I headed back to the office on Thursday. Like the first venture, the ordeal was not without its own set of issues: the lunch container had been forgotten and keys misplaced. The delay ultimately led to accepting tardiness and taking the next train.

The morning comprised of Apple Pie for breakfast, catch-up conversations with co-workers - both old and new - and attempts at completing work assignments. When noon rolled around, a trip to Eaton was undertaken.

In celebration of the upcoming Lunar New Year, artificial cherry blossom trees had been installed at four positions on the third floor. They were, admittedly, less enthralling than the lofty Christmas tree that had extended from the base of the shopping centre.

​Retailers were eager to embrace the spirit of Lunar New Year, including themed displays near the front of the store to encourage investment. It was a cleve, inclusive strategy, for the very act of procuring new items was synonymous with welcoming luck into a new year, regardless of age, gender, or marital status.

​The drive home that evening was equally drizzly, but comparatively warmer and with low visibility due to fog.

Meals of the week comprised of leftovers, a dismal Cinnamon Scone from COBS Bread, potato salad from Costco, and Nabe with Pork Shabu, Fish-Shaped Tofu, King Oyster Mushrooms, and Napa Cabbage.

​The past weekend's curry was frozen to extend its period of safe consumption. ​Izumi's Plum Sake was also utilized to test the body's response to alcohol and determine post-flu tolerance.

​Creations of the week included:

1) Udon in Elevated Cream of Mushroom Soup

When faced with another grueling week of meal preparation, I turned towards canned components for assistance. After the blanching of choy sum/gai lan and udon, two cans of Cream of Mushroom were summoned. Shallots and garlic were sautéed until fragrant, then combined with the canned soup and diced chunks of Holiday luncheon meat. In the final stages of simmering, one clove of black garlic would be tossed in for infusion.

2) Braised Pork and Daikon with Sweet Potato

Several modifications were executed to achieve a spinoff of our customary household entrée: sweet potato was added for sweetness, pork was chopped into smaller cubes, and daikon was cut into slivers rather chunks. Opting for fine strips of ginger also facilitated consumption.

The base of the braising liquid would be composed of an ancient bottle of Teriyaki dipping sauce, crystallized no name liquid honey, and, likely the most unconventional of components, Umeshu brandy. Far pricier than the standard bottle of Shaoxing, the choice had been entirely intentional. Although the beverage had failed to quench my desires for plum wine, it effortlessly contributed depth and fruitiness to the pot. It was ideally served over short-grain rice.

3) Roll Cake with Chocolate Ganache Montée

The craving for cake had crept up on a Monday afternoon, instigating the formation of chocolate ganache montée. A sponge recipe had been planned for my next work-from-home day, with the intent of filling it as a Swiss roll. Various flavours of whipped cream, buttercream, and other fillings had been tested previously, though it'd be the first application of whipped ganache.

​Structural integrity had been observed in Sunday Baking's Best Pistachio Cake, but the rough 2:1 ratio of heavy cream and chocolate had rendered this edition looser than expected, even after chilling.

​The sponge sheet was derived from her Amazing Salted Caramel Roll Cake recipe. Despite being relatively thin and exceptionally airy, its high proportion of aerated eggs ensured ease of rolling and no breakage, assuming the sponge had been cooled in a manner that preserved moisture. Its vivid yellow hue and smooth underside was all too reminiscent of a rolled omelette, though was, in reality, much sweeter.

Ganache montée could be distributed along the length of the sponge sheet with ease, then shaped into a fairly tight roll with the aid of a bench scraper. However, even five plus hours of refrigeration could not improve the cake's slice-ability.
The two components appeared to project a lack of harmony: the chocolate cream was complex, yet oozed from within instead of adhering the sponge. Meanwhile, the sponge displayed dryness, causing the inner swirls to peel away from the cream.

Beyond issues with structural integrity, I deduced a lack of dimension. Had a coffee-flavoured syrup been constructed, the same components had the potential to yield a splendid layer cake. Furthermore, it could support additional elements for improved depth.

"I want to eat cake as one!" my baking co-worker had once declared. I couldn't agree more with her sentiment, for this particular creation had been precisely stripped of this cohesion.

4) Carrot Pound Cake

T̶a̶l̶k̶s̶  rants about Asia Food Mart's bendy carrots led to the suggestion of buying bagged carrots instead of by weight. While the loose variety would fluctuate drastically in per pound prices, the bag was a mere $2.99 for 2 lbs (or 907 g).

"But we never use this many carrots." I had initially protested, "We don't make (Chinese) soup."
"You can make carrot cake." came the response.
"Do you like carrot cake?"
"Yeah."

And despite not being entirely fond of store-bought specimens, it didn't take much for me to dive into carrot cake research for the first attempt of this year.

Sunday Baking offered two variations for consideration. Titled the "Best Carrot Pound Cake", I wasn't exactly sure what to expect of the walnut- and dried cranberry-containing loaf. The texture appeared decidedly chewy, though the overall outcome promising - since we are talking about Sunday, after all.

​The formula commenced with two eggs, canola oil, and brown sugar. Once emulsified, AP flour, baking powder, and baking soda were whisked within. Given that the creation was a pound cake after all, there was a higher proportion of dry ingredients to wet. I switched to a spatula to prevent over-mixing the flour and chemical leaveners, then continued with the additions of carrot and apple - pulverized in a food processor as per the recipe. The variety of apple was not specified, so I took to a half-and-half mix of tart Honeycrisp (great for pies!) and sweet, floral Ambrosia (more suited for munching).

Equal amounts (25 g) of raisin, walnut, and shredded coconut had been Sunday's chosen add-ins. The video had illustrated dried cranberries in place of raisins, which prompted me to adapt further: Why not both?
Toasted chopped pecans were used in place of walnuts, while shredded coconut was omitted altogether on the basis of availability (or lack thereof).

​The loaf was baked on the middle rack for about twenty minutes before a sheet tray was slid underneath, stealing heat correspondingly. While the surface did not crack in typical pound cake fashion, the cake did not display signs of excess moisture. Its edges had set in a uniform fashion, allowing for sharp cuts to be made.

My first taste of the cake was rather dry and lacklustre - unsurprising, given that I had left it to at room temperature, exposed, for over an hour. A glaze was deemed necessary in that moment.

Instead of taking a faux cream cheese frosting however, I turned towards Sunday's straightforward, two-ingredient Condensed Milk Pound Cake glaze. Having referenced the recipe countless times, I proceeded to assemble an orange extract-infused chocolate coating without much adherence to the original recipe quantities. Using less oil would inhibit spread and runoff, enabling the entire loaf to be glazed in one go.

​The loaf was allowed to chill for about two hours. Bracing myself for disappointment, I was flabberghasted to find a delectable, tender cake embracing moistness (without greasy odours!), lightly spiced flavours, and a craggy, satisfying consistency. Inclusions of dried fruit and nuts were discernible, yet not overwhelming in any way. The same commentary would extend to the glaze, which merely clung to the upper half of the cake without infringing on its carrot-y properties.

Continuing to rest in the fridge overnight, the glaze had grown dry by the next morning. The cake was no longer plush and moist, and the thin chocolate coating shattered upon contact. As such, it is advised against chilling for upwards of three hours (for thin glazes) or five (for thicker variations).

5) Carrot Cake (sans mini carrots)

​​Next up was an impressively tropical take on Carrot Cake - the very composition I had tested early last year.

There were a number of differences from the Carrot Pound Cake recipe. It entailed:

• More carrot (200 g vs. 80 g)
• Pineapple (instead of apple)
• Less flour (100 g vs. 120 g)
• Less oil (70 g vs. 100 g)
• No baking soda (baking powder only)

The choice of chemical leavener was worth noting, for it permitted a reduction in acid without adverse effects (read: alkalinic undertones). Consequently, the specified 100 g of brown sugar was swapped for 120 g of golden yellow sugar. Unlike the previous attempt, molasses was not included for compensation, for the batter appeared moist enough.

By baking the sheet cake alongside the Carrot Pound Cake in the lower third of the oven for about ten minutes and on the middle rack for another 3-5 minutes, the centremost section scorched while the edges remained relatively soft. Thankfully, the underside and edges had set completely, enabling removal from the oven before further damage was done. As a word of caution, sheet cakes are best baked on the middle rack without companionship; they are quite thin to start, thus cook quickly.​

​Faux cream cheese frosting was summoned once more, for cream cheese blocks have been shunned due to their lack of frequent usage.

​American buttercream would form the base of my frosting. Separately, heavy cream would be whipped to stiff peaks with the intention of being folded into the buttercream to lighten its consistency. The contents of both bowls would emerge promising: smooth, silky, and possessing the desired profiles. It was only until combining the two that I would realize my blunder: Fat and water don't mix.

The frosting curdled instantly, to the extent where not even whipping would succeed in restoring its original texture. In an attempt to salvage my dairy-based toppings, a roux of cornstarch and water was folded within. But the microwave ermine path ended in vain: the mixture only curdled further.

Exasperated and somewhat exhausted, the whipped cream portion was nixed altogether. Another batch of faux cream cheese frosting would be compiled using the following:

• 120 g salted butter *
• 225 g powdered sugar
• 9 g lemon juice
• 13 g white vinegar
• 10 g salt *

Salted butter was used in place of unsalted this time around, serving to both mimic the innate saltiness of cream cheese and cut costs. During the assembly stage, the buttercream had appeared too sweet for my liking, prompting further incorporation of salt. After chilling, however, the formula revealed itself noticeably salty; I'd recommend reducing the quantity to 5-6 g instead.

​My tragic piping skills were showcased once again, with the trailing end of the squiggle gradually losing its intended shape due to being warmed in my palm. The sides ought to have been left as Sunday had intended - unfrosted, for the crumb was too tender to resist shedding.

​It is also advised against leaving the cake exposed in the fridge overnight. While structural integrity was improved, the buttercream was far too rigid and separated from the cake upon slicing. Though faring quite well as a topping for the Pumpkin Snacking Cake, the faux cream cheese buttercream overpowered the moist, delectable layers of carrot cake in terms of texture and richness. Cream cheese would have been best suited for this application, though even a looser whipped cream may have sufficed as well.

6) Miso Glazed Oven Roasted Carrots

With the remaining rounds of the 2 lb bag, I opted against the entire enactment of SK's carrot soup with miso and sesame. While not normally one to gripe about multi-step procedures with immersion blenders and pots, I wasn't particularly keen to chop onions and increase my dishwashing load. Furthermore, the oven was already on; I might as well take advantage of it.

Drawing inspiration from her blended concoction, carrot chunks were tossed in a thick paste of white miso, honey, and sesame oil. A tablespoon of canola oil assisted in achieving the required fluidity. The carrots were then distributed on a parchment-lined baking tray, sprinkled with sesame seeds, and allowed to roast for upwards of forty minutes between 350 F to 400 F - one can really never know when my oven temperature oscillates so drastically.

Once cake operations had completed, the carrots were ready too. Savoury and brimming with umami, they boasted slightly wrinkled edges and toothsome centres.