Banoffee Biscuits

Banookies

Love banana.
Love caramel.
Love dark chocolate.
Love them together.

Incidentally they do exist in nature as an entity; the famed Banoffee Pie.

Hate pie.

I think that admitting is the first step on the path to acceptance.
The second step is trying to uncover the roots of my irrational, yet longstanding, hatred for pie. My mind is instinctively drawn to  a little box that is padlocked shut, deep in the recesses of my sub conscience. The box is labeled "Year 9 Mathematics" and contains the explicit instructions "In case of an emergency, still do not break open". Like most instructions that I encounter, such as IKEA DIY builds, recipes and technological guide books, I appreciate their existence and reserve the right to fully ignore them. With this in mind, I had no problem ignoring the Math box's warning and cracked it wide open. My brain was instantly assaulted with intense memories of confusion, frustration and calculated catastrophes of the numerical kind. The mathematical hater, who resides on the right side of my brain, causes a negative association with the word "PIE".

Observe this in action:

"Hayley; the square root of pie is..."?
"Umm...unhappiness?"

To me, understanding maths is like trying to shove a square peg into a round pie. So perhaps poor Banoffee is simply an innocent bystander who has become co-literal damage. Alternatively, it is possible that my issue with Banoffee predates Year 9 mathematics class and originates from my general aversion to creating shortcrust pastry.

Either way, I wanted to have my pie and eat it too, just not in the form of a pie. Enter the humble biscuit, willing to bare the burden of my cravings (and rapidly aging bananas) in the most simple form: the banana-caramel choc chip cookie, or as I like to call it, the Banookie. From my oven came wafting waves of banana, with a splash of caramel and a healthy dose of dark chocolate. Crispy on the outside and chewy on the inside, the Banookie is the cookie lovers (or pie haters) answer to the Banoffee Pie!

Banookie:

120g butter
100g caster sugar
75g soft brown sugar
100g tinned caramel (Carnation)
1 egg beaten
1 cup flour
1/4 ripe mashed banana
1 tsp baking powder
100g dark chocolate chips
1 pinch salt

Preheat the oven to 175 degrees.

Cream the butter and caster sugar together until pale and creamy. Then add the mashed banana followed by the lightly beaten egg and brown sugar. Fold through the chocolate chips by hand, then return to using the mixer in order to incorporate the caramel (I know that this seems unorthodox as chocolate chips are usually added last, but trust me, it just works for this recipe!) Finally add the sifted flour, baking powder and pinch of salt, mixing until all the cookie dough comes together.

Dollop teaspoons of the banookie dough onto a lined baking tray, making sure you leave around 3cm for the biscuits to spread. Bake for 15 minutes (or until they are golden brown).

When they come out of the oven they will still be soft so gently lift them onto a cooling tray (they will harden as they cool). This beautiful banookies are best eaten on the day that they are made. The banana flavour becomes stronger the longer they are left in the container and it can cause it to soften in texture. My suggestion is any banookies that are not eaten within two days of baking should be kept in the freezer and eaten chilled rather than defrosted (crushed, cold banookies on vanilla ice cream makes for a decadent dessert!)

Halvah Ma'amul

Rosewater + Halvah = Match made in Heaven

Ma'amul is a traditional semolina-rosewater biscuit with pockets of spiced fruit and nut. These biscuits have a Middle Eastern heritage and, like the region of their birth, they too have a controversial and embattled past, with the ability to cause much heated debate. Despite all this, I see these biscuits through rose coloured glasses and a tummy half full (of fragrant biscuits). The fact is the predominant flavour of these delicate, exotic biscuits is rose water. My expansive and detailed research* has revealed that one in three people despise rosewater (insert gasp of horror here. I know, it's shocking isn't it? They probably hate puppies and rainbows too). This research led to the creation of the "Rosewater Love-o-meter Test" which concluded with the following definitive result**: If you like Turkish delight and musk sticks, you will love Ma'amul.
*This study was conducted on no more than 3 people.
**Results may vary depending on people's taste (and the fact that no such research was ever conducted nor tested).

Now I mentioned that these biscuits have an embattled past, allow me to take a moment to explain how my cookie tray became an epic battle field. The original Ottolenghi recipe calls for a date, walnut and rosewater filling, however, I was desperate to create a more subtly sweet flavour which had wider appeal amongst the masses. I got to work creating a chocolate filling that was rich in flavour and malleable in texture, so that it could be rolled into balls and then pinched inside the semolina rosewater dough. Pleased with my problem solving skills, I popped 20 ma'amuls into the oven for 12 minutes and began to dream of these treats with chocolate centers rolled in rose flavoured dough. In the midst of dreaming, my mind was pulled back to reality by the insistent beeping of the timer. My mum happened to reach the oven first and I entered the kitchen to see her body blocking the oven like a bodyguard protecting a celeb from the flashing glare of paparazzi. Just like the paps, I managed to sneek a peek behind her waving arms just in time to see my beautiful ma'amul bubbling and exploding volcanic chocolate all over of the cookie tray, each other and my hopes and dreams.

A new day dawns a new opportunity for baking victory, and I refused to wave the white flag. This time half the biscuits were filled with three chocolate melts and the other half's filling was inspired by my gazing around the kitchen to find an ingredient that could be molded into balls. I spied a tub of Israeli Halvah (sesame seed based) that called out to me from the cupboard shelf. It was the hero of the day and it's subtle, earthy flavoured bonded with the rosewater dough to create a resounding ma'amul victory!

My advice for these sweet treats: get together with a group of like-minded rosewater-loving people, a pot of mint tea and enjoy the good life. Peace of cake, right?

 Ma'amul Dough (Adapted from Ottolenghi): 

350g semolina
40g plain flour
40g caster sugar
pinch of salt
180g unsalted butter cut into 3cm cubes
2 tbsp Cointreau liquor
1 tbsp rose water
1/2 tbsp water
icing sugar to finish

Put the semolina, flour, sugar and salt into a large mixing bowl and stir together using your hands. Add the butter and work with your fingers until the texture is like semi-course breadcrumbs. Add the cointreau, rose water and 1/2 tbsp water and use your hands to bring the mixture together into a ball. Remove to a clean surface and knead the dough until it is smooth (it will seem like it is impossible at first, but I found by dividing the dough in half and squeezing it between your hands at the start helps to speed the process). The dough will eventually become smooth after around 5 minutes of kneading (get ready for a workout, at least you will come out smelling like roses!). Cover the dough with a damp cloth and leave to rest for 30 minutes.

Filling:

50g Dark chocolate melts
Israeli Halvah (I used the one that comes in a block, then shaved off pieces) 

Preheat the oven to 190 degrees.

To make the ma'amul biscuits: Pinch off a tablespoon of the dough and roll into a ball. Flatten the ball into a disc shape in your hand. Lift the edges of the disc to form a little bowl, then place either a heaped teaspoon of Halvah or 3 choc melts into the center. Pinch the dough over the filling so that bowl in now sealed (again, at first this will seen impossible, but trust me - this dough is magical and stretches in such a way that I have never seen before). Roll the dough into a ball again and slightly flatten between the palms of your hands.

Place the biscuit onto a baking tray lined with baking paper and repeat the process until all the dough and filling is used (it makes around 30 biscuits). Bake for 13 minutes. The cookies will not turn brown but they will be firm to the touch. Remove from the oven and transfer to a cooling rack. Before serving, sprinkle generously with icing sugar.   

Mini Milo Cheesecakes

My-high cheesecakes

Now that I have overcome my aforementioned cheesecake "Fear and Loathing Syndrome", I have embraced the wonderful world of cheesecake possibilities. These mini cheesecakes are an ode to my enduring and everlasting love for Milo. With a crunchy, Milo biscuit base and richly decadent Milo infused cheesecake, this creation is truly the physical manifestation of my-lo dreams come true.

Before I go any further I feel the need to write an open letter to the people who are responsible for the naming of this delightful and iconic product in order to air a deep seeded grievance.

Dear Mr. Milo Pty Ltd,

While sensational in flavour, you have the wrong name for your product, it should not be called Milo, but rather Myhi(gh). I wish to outline the reasons for this change (which are threefold) below:

1. When feeling low, Milo lifts the spirits, making you feel high.

2.The perfect milk to Milo ratio should be indicated in the name of the product. In the "Milk to Milo" ratio, the higher the amount of Milo the better (think, Milo-powder-plumes-when-you-cough, high). As an English teacher I feel comfortable sharing the following mathematical formula to demonstrate my point:

1:3 = good
1:5  = better
1:100 = best

In case you are not a wonderful mathematician (like moi; which is French for "I am Pythagoras") the layman's translation for this equation is basically: less milk + more Milo = MyHi-happiness 

3. Milo is quite frankly, and simply, My-High. I'm sure I am not alone in this assertion, so perhaps it should be called Allhi(gh).

Your Sincerely, but not truly,

H. 

While Mr. Milo Pty Ltd considers my proposal, I will leave you with this final thought: there are no "lo"s to these mini cheesecakes. They are high on flavour, texture and, of course, Myhi (the malt formerly known as Milo).

Milo Biscuit Base (A Pound of Flour)

125g butter
1/3 cup brown sugar
1/3 cup caster sugar
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla essence
1 1/2 cups self-raising flour
1/2 cup Milo (plus extra to sprinkle)

Heat the oven to 160 degrees. Cream the butter and both sugars together. Add beaten eggs and vanilla, then fold through the sifted flour and Milo. Roll the mixture into balls and flatten slightly, sprinkling the tops with some extra Milo powder. Bake for 10 minutes to get a soft biscuits or 15 minutes for a firmer one (my preference for biscuits is ALWAYS crunchy!) This recipe makes around 30 biscuits, but you will only need 12 for the cheesecakes. You can freeze the rest and eat them at leisure, or leave them out on the kitchen bench and they will disappear into the Bermuda Triangle of cookie lovers.

Milo Cheesecake

250g Light Cream Cheese
395g can condensed milk
1/4 cup lemon juice
1 cup Milo

Beat the cheese until smooth. Add the condensed milk, lemon juice and Milo. Beat until smooth (it will still have the granules of Milo, but so long as the cheese and condensed milk are combined).

Line a muffin tray with 12 cupcake cases. Place a cooled Milo biscuit at the bottom of each one and then spoon the Cheesecake mixture into the cases (you can fill almost to the top as it doesn't rise much in the oven). Bake for 10 minutes, then remove from the oven leaving them to cool in the muffin tray.

Enjoy them with a tall glass of chilled milk (and if you are a true Myhi, add some Milo to the milk too!)   

Roasted Rhubarb Teacake

Sacrilicious Rhubarb Teacake

ANCIENT LAW: "Thou shall not eat meat with dairy"

MODERN TRANSLATION: "Thou shall not eat luscious, rich dairy desserts after eating a succulent steak".

HOME-TRUTH: This law is anti-dessertist. The only people who suffer from this law are those, like me, who have a sweet tooth and love nothing more than to follow a hearty meaty meal (I do love animals, but I love steak more) with a rich, creamy chocolate covered, ice cream lathered, cream dolloped dairylicious dessert.

What is the solution to this age old conundrum? The answer is deceptively obvious - make it dairy free. While most recipes can be converted, the end product almost always screams "dairy-free dessert!" Whether it is your tongue crying out for the texture of real cream and the lightness of milk or whether it is the ever present nutty undertone when using soy milk, it is never quite right. That is until I transformed a milky teacake recipe into a versatile, quick and never fail cake. This recipe can be adapted and adjusted to suit all tastes and toppings, but it tends to work best with fruit in, on or between the layers.

This humble teacake, a now favourite post meat dessert, was revolutionised when my Mother-in-law bought me some vibrant Rhubarb sticks from the market. Like me, she appreciates all things home baked (in fact, me writing this blog was her brainchild!) and often supplies me with delicious fresh produce that creep their way into my baked goods. The only issue was that I had Rhubarbaphobia. Symptoms of this rare condition include hiding behind the apple stand in order to avoid eye-contact with aforementioned product and a systematic avoidance of all (Rhu)barbs which may, or may not, fly my way. Oh...I also thought some part, and I wasn't exactly sure which part, of Rhubarbs were poisonous. Thus, I had never used them, lest any of my friends or family had the following inscription on their graves "Death by Rhubarb". However, this time it was different, I was captivated by their shiny rosy skins and elegant shape. I had to use them.

OUTCOME:
1. Delicious dairy-free cake that tastes dairy filled.
2. Radiant Roasted Rhubarb covered dessert.

In the words of the ever wise Homer J. Simpson:

"Mmmmm...sacrilicious!"

Roasted rhubarb

10 sticks (approx. 300g) of Rhubarb (leaves removed - they ARE poisonous)
1/4 cup caster sugar
Zest of one lemon
1 tsp custard powder (to make the glaze)

Cut up 7 sticks of Rhubarb into 2 inch pieces. Leave 3 sticks whole in length. Place rhubarb onto a lined baking tray and sprinkle with caster sugar and grated zest. Allow to sit for 5 minutes (or until you see juices starting to form). Then bake for 10 minutes covered at 200 degrees Celsius, then uncover and roast for a further 5 minutes. Remove from the oven and drain the juices into a glass (it produces about a 1/2 cup, but the amount will differ depending on the Rhubarbs). Set the Rhubarb and juice aside.

Tea cake 

120g margarine
1 cup caster sugar
2 eggs
4 tsp vanilla essence
2 cups self raising flour
2/3 cup pulp free orange juice
1 tbsp soft brown sugar
Jam of you choice (for cake assembling)

Lower the oven to 180 degrees. Line and grease two 20cm baking tins. Cream margarine, sugar, eggs and vanilla for two minutes. Add the sifted flour alternating with the orange juice until finished (ending with the flour). Divide the batter into two tins. Top the one cake with the chopped roasted Rhubarb (this will form the bottom layer of your cake) and top the second cake with whole Rhubarb pieces arranged decoratively. Sprinkle a little bit of brown sugar on top of the second cake only (it helps to caramelize the rhubarb).

In order to avoid my mistake ensure that you don't place too much Rhubarb in the center of the top layer cake as it will prohibit the rising of the cake and even baking. Bake for 27 minutes (or until a skewer comes out clean from the center).

Once you remove the cakes from the oven and place them onto a cooling tray, you can move on to making the Rhubarb glaze that will be brushed onto the cake once cooled. Place the Rhubarb juices into a small saucepan and blend 1 tsp of custard powder into it with a fork making sure you removes the lumps. Put the saucepan over a low flame and gently heat the mixture, while continuously stirring. It will become cloudy before becoming clear again and the juices will gradually thicken. When it takes on the consistency of jelly just before it sets remove from the flame (it will become slightly thicker as it cools).

To assemble the cake place the bottom layer on a serving tray and generously spread with jam (I used an apple and cinnamon jam which was delicious, but any jam will work beautifully). Carefully place the top layer on top of the jam, gently pressing down to secure it. Then take a brush and generously lather on the Rhubarb glaze (it gives it a lovely shine and pinkish colour).

Then cut a massive slice and enjoy (I promise, it won't kill you)!