Out & About #999 | Mini Chocolate Chip Muffins, Tangzhong Pai Bao + Instant Pot Soup

With the last class at Dal Pilates behind me, the Sunday schedule was liberal once more. There weren't any grand plans for the weekend though, which is quite atypical of me. Given that the work week had played out in a largely hectic manner, I wasn't against the opportunity to catch up on routine tasks at home.

Following consumption of a delicious Nitro Stout from Cowbell Brewing Co., I was suddenly met with a desire to relive LUNA's Mugwort-Injeolmi Rice Cake bites. The impromptu creation started with a 1:1 volume ratio of glutinous rice flour and water, which was modified to include mugwort powder as follows:

• 1/2 cup water
• 1/3 cup glutinous rice flour
• 1/4 cup mugwort powder

The ingredients were added into a microwavable bowl and whisked until homogeneous, then gently heated until cooked through. Several moments later, upon gathering a waft of roux, it dawned on me that the mixture had been devoid of both salt and sugar. Hastily attempting to incorporate these elements with an additional 1/4 cup of water, I soon learned that my mixture was too fluid. No amount of injeolmi powder could salvage the overly malleable mass. It was richly scented with mugwort, but lacked the chewy, sliceable consistency I had desired. A mixture of glutinous and plain/non-glutinous rice flour shall be sought next time.

Mini Chocolate Chip Muffins

​Every now and then, I'm overcome with an urge for Chocolate Chip Muffins. Tim Hortons usually succeeded in scratching that itch, for locations are prevalent, the mobile app is convenient, the product is often stocked, and the cost is reasonable. However, since their formula was revised to exclude coarse sugar and feature a surface exclusively bearing ominous-looking chocolate spikes, undertaking the crafting venture was deemed exceedingly more appropriate.

As always, I'd make a beeline for Sunday's recipe roster. They were incredibly reliable, informative, and concise; most of the basic productions come together easily within an hour. My search yielded results of a No Butter Chocolate Muffin, Super Moist Blueberry Muffin, and Green Tea Muffin. The first two would have offered the closest guideline for adaptation, however I neither had yogurt nor sour cream (respectively) on hand.
It was also noted that, by omitting the fermented milk product and swapping cocoa powder for plain flour, there would be no acid to react with the baking soda. I further wanted to ensure that the batter could be chilled without repercussions if not baking immediately, for one cannot do the same with batters containing baking soda.

The modified ingredient list was as follows:

• 2 eggs
• 94 g granulated sugar
• 100 g oil
• 175 g cake flour, sifted
• 1/2 tsp vanilla bean paste * opt
• 1 tsp vanilla extract  *
• 4 g baking powder (2 tsp)
• 100 g milk
• 94 g mini chocolate chips
• turbinado sugar (for sprinkling on top)

​Constructed in parallel was a Tangzhong Pai Bao loaf, which was halfway through its first fermentation in the oven when the muffin batter was constructed. Despite not being the original intention, the project was quickly converted to mini muffins instead. Using mini chocolate chips had enabled this swift development, for standard-sized chocolate chips would have been ill-fitted for baking in smaller moulds.

​The batter yielded enough for 13 mini muffins and 4 standard-sized muffins. To accommodate baking in my countertop toaster oven, the contents were portioned into two batches: a 12-count mini muffin pan and 4 silicon baking cups + 1 extra mini cupcake liner. Not one to normally gravitate towards silicon liners, the compact quantity and lack of internal oven capacity prompted the decision.

The muffins were baked 375 F for 6 mins, then 350 F for 8-10 mins. Given that the toaster oven did not radiate uniform heat distribution within, the pans would be rotated after the 13-/14-minute mark and baked for up to additional two minutes to attain a golden hue on all the tops.

​Emerging dry to touch with the exception of melty chocolate chips, the muffins were mostly successful. The inclusion of oil assisted in keeping the specimens moist, even when oven conditions weren't exactly forgiving.
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There were no issues whatsoever in removing the muffins from the paper liners. That said, the silicon baking cups did not promote browning along all edges. Consequently, the surface would crispen to a golden brown, while the insides and sides persisted as being soft and pale. One ought be mindful of this material choice, for it is not the ideal situation for individual cupcakes or loaves. Unless baking cake rounds or sheet cakes for which frosting would completely mask the sides, I'd advise against using silicon for baking. Their versatility to transition between countertop and freezer facilitates their application in moulded/no bake treats (or entremet inserts) instead.

​The opinion that my larger conventional oven produces proper baked goods persists, for the uneven heat distribution was found most evident in the cross-sections.

Sizable air pockets at the base of the muffins indicated extreme heat from the coils underneath, while darkened tops heat from the coils above. In the absence of a fan, the centre section of the oven saw less heat than the two extremities.
Although lacking the depth I had grown accustomed towards, the muffins were nonetheless delicious with an impeccably tender crumb and sporadically dispersed mini chocolate chips.

Tangzhong Pai Bao

After a brief bread hiatus, the allure of brioche drew me back to the kitchen. Whole wheat bread flour was sworn off for the time being, leaving me to ponder the possibilities that milk (or rather, milk powder), eggs, and sugar could produce.​

1. Tangzhong

​The evening prior, I took to the stovetop to formulate tangzhong. Microwave tangzhong had served me well in the past few experiments, though I was curious to determine whether any obvious differences could be spotted using the traditional method.
Recalling the recommended proportions of tangzhong, I aimed for 20 g of all-purpose flour and 100 g water (5 x flour by weight) for the 300 g used in Bake for Happy Kids' Roti Sisir recipe. This produced 134 g of a slick tangzhong, and equated to an approximate tangzhong content of 6.5%.

Unfortunately, I had forgotten to adjust the quantity of water once again. While I hadn't questioned the dampness of the dough initially, my brows soon furrowed at the sight of the dough clinging to the bottom of the stand mixer bowl, while patches of flour continued to cling to the sides. The original recipe had excluded tangzhong, yet maintained an overall hydration level of 70%. With the addition of tangzhong, however, the overall hydration ratio was determined to be 97% - far too high for a stable mass to form.​
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In order to remediate the issue, flour was steadily added to the bowl in increments: 113 g, 54 g, and finally 63 g. The dough was kneaded comprehensively after each addition, as to observe hydration levels before adjusting further. By adding more flour, the tangzhong ratio was reduced to likely 3.8% (from the original 6.5%).

​As I continued to knead, the dough gradually lost its tackiness and eventually began to form a solid mass. When the dough held together but still shredded when tugged, softened butter was incorporated. Then, shocking observations were made: the dough began to shred even more! Despite allowing the mixer to run for another ten minutes or so, the dough remained shaggy, retaining an unyielding nature. Admittedly, I was confused at this turnout, but, seeing that it easily released from the dough hook, it was transferred to a greased bowl to start proofing.

After one hour, I was relieved to see moderate expansion and a smoother surface than before. Portioning the soft, pliable rounds were as easy as could be, even if the dough surface wasn't as seamless expected.

2. Portioning

The mound was separated into nine servings, roughly about the same size. A scale was summoned to confirm my suspicions: each round was within 15 g of its neighbour, concluding that my eyeballing skills had improved significantly. Eventually, each piece was adjusted to weigh in at around 113-115 g.

3. Shaping

From there, I allowed my mind to stray - to entertain "hybrid" rolling techniques, as one often does (994) when they cannot recall tutorial specifics. Four pieces would be rolled in the conventional loaf format (a), while the remaining five pieces lengthened (b) to give off the illusion of bakery-style 排包:

a) Envelope-style: Three-part fold, 90 degree rotation + stretching/flattening; seam side down
b) Roll + coil: Flattening into a rectangle, rolling tightly from one end, then bending the ends to seal; seam side down

The latter was a poor choice on my part, for while it produced the coveted elongated bakery-style shape, it made for uneven baking and trapped excess moisture in the lower third of the roll. Meanwhile, the tri-fold rolls baked evenly and promoted wispy thin layers.

4. Egg Wash

Egg wash comprised of 1 whole egg and a splash of half & half cream. In fear of yellow splotches and excess egg trickling down the sides of the loaves and solidifying (burning!) on the underside of the tray, I was careful to not use more than needed to cover the exposed surfaces.

IKEA's Stainless steel food trays constituted the perfect size for trays of pai bao, but were, unfortunately, not non-stick and suffered severe scratches from in-depth scrubbing.

The trial batch adopted the following ingredient quantities:

A. Tangzhong

• 20 g AP flour
• 100 g water

Yield: 134 g

B. Dough

• 210 g lukewarm water *
• Tangzhong
• 35 g sweetened condensed milk
• 300 g AP flour (+ 113, 54, 63g) = 530 g *
• 1 tsp yeast
• 25 g granulated sugar
• 4 g salt
• 15 g milk powder
• 50 g butter

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Bake at 365 F for 30-35 mins.

Realistically, I would look towards reducing the overall quantity of water and potentially substituting some of the moisture with eggs and milk (or more milk powder) for a "true" brioche. Tangzhong quantities could be devised after confirming the base loaf breakdown (breaddown??).

The 排包 was, nevertheless, extremely tender and boasted thin sheets of uniformity. Complexity was a tad lacking, particularly in terms of sweetness. Though, the blandness had likely resulted from unprecedented additions of flour and water, without proportional amounts of sweetened condensed milk and milk powder to compensate. ​ The loaves were also observed to dry out over the subsequent days, requiring microwaving to reinstate its soft consistency, for toasting would only further the undesirable staleness.

​The ideal hydration would fall within the range of 60-70% for an enriched dough, with some recipes claiming up to 75% is acceptable. This claim was proven true, however, given that the Whole Wheat Tangzhong Loaf had been concluded to possess a 74% hydration level. For the next batch, I shall likely revert back to the recipe, for it seemed the best version of tangzhong-containing, enriched dough yet! If going egg-less, then the amount of water in the main dough should be reduced from 210 g to 135 g to yield hydration levels within the range of 70-75%.

As a general weight-based formula:

• 5 x Tangzhong flour = Tangzhong water
• 7% of Main dough flour = Tangzhong flour
• Main dough water/main dough flour = ~45%
• Total Water/Total Flour = ~70-75%

Three-Ingredient Vegetable Soup

​My once-beautiful vine tomatoes were rotting in the produce drawer. Despite desperate pleas for the batch to be repurposed by other members of the household - whether via pan-frying, roasting, or whatever the heart desires and the body is willing to execute - they were ultimately left to naturally decompose. It was indolence in its purest form.

But I wasn't about the let my handpicked selection go to waste. Without a dedicated slot in my schedule for sudden creations, the Instant Pot was summoned for assistance.

​The original plan was to make a variation of Tom Kha, and I had even retrieved coconut milk from the basement pantry for its construction. However, the substantial amount of leftover beef broth in the fridge persuaded a different route to be taken. My vine tomatoes, now turning mushy but still flavourful, were quartered. Next, a golf ball-sized knob of ginger was peeled and thinly sliced. Three-four small onions would be incorporated as well, given that they were also starting to rot from within. A few bay leaves, lemongrass powder, fish sauce, and mirin would constitute the seasoning base. In the last ten seconds before sealing the lid, one pre-portioned package of previously frozen carrots were dumped in as well. All ingredients would be submerged in water, then allowed to simmer on the Soup/Broth setting for about thirty-five minutes.

​I'll admit: The declaration of "vegetarian" was flawed, for though the pot was without chunks of meat, the base of packaged beef broth was undeniable. But this constituent contributed minimally in terms of depth. A robust profile had indeed emerged with ease, nearly shocking me with its complexity, though the flavour had been derived primarily from the tomatoes and carrot. The slivers of ginger also boasted a prominent presence throughout, perhaps a tad too prominent for those without with aversions to the root vegetable. Personally, the broth was extremely enjoyable, especially given its effortless, hands-off assembly. Ideal complements would be my Pai Bao, shredded kale, and meatballs/minced meat for heartiness.