Australasia, revisted.

It is easy now to look back on my previous life and how things have changed so much in the last 9 months. Hard to believe that it has been almost a year since I hung up my apron and walked out of the kitchen of Café Juanita, a year since I made, daily, 5# Focaccia, 10# of Potato Bread, enough gelato to fill my home freezer, and desserts to keep me satisfied for days and days and months.
Harder yet to believe, is that for me, there was life even before my previous life as a Baker and Pastry Chef, a life in which I was a recently graduated science major from UW, a life just after I hung up my cap, goggles and swimsuit, my sole identity for the 18 years prior. I call this period of my life the lost years. I think, looking back, that it was the time in my life in which I was really the most unhappy..when I really had no idea what to do next. I had just finished living the greatest 4 years of my life, and here I was, graduated, no longer a swimmer, with no job prospects and a dwindling support system of friends still living in Seattle.

It was 1996 and I moved out of the college house that I shared with my best friends in the world and into a foreign house, with two good friends that hadn’t left Seattle once college ended. We lived in Ballard, which at the time, hadn’t yet experienced the resurgence of cool. Back in ’96, it was kind of dead, its main street still bearing the look of an era long bygone. I used to spend my days in the coffee shops, writing letters to old friends (back before email was a mainstay..) and trying to figure out my next move. Ironically, I remember there was a bakery around the corner from our house, one that, now, has become the beating heart of Ballard as far as French Pastries are concerned.

I graduated with a Zoology degree and had dreams of becoming a Veterinarian, but given a less than stellar performance in Organic Chemistry and Physics, I just wasn’t sure whether I could hack it. So, I applied for an internship at the Woodland Park Zoo and thought maybe I could intern alongside the resident Vet.

The Zoo is one of the hardest places to find an actual paying job, so I started where anyone would, as a volunteer. I was assigned to the Australasia exhibit, which housed the Snow Leopards, the Tree Kangaroos, the Wallaroos, the Laughing Kookaburra, the Potaroo
(Pota-who? you ask?) and the Mountain Parrot.

As a Vonlunteer in Australasia, a few things were certain: I could never tend to the Snow Leopards by myself, for obvious reasons…I could clean the female Tree Kangaroo’s cage, but not the neighboring male, who was known to throw his poop in your direction and, I had to watch my back when cleaning the Emu’s pen, as they tend to like chasing humans.

As you can imagine, I was assigned to the most menial and labor intensive of duties…and, the least glamorous. Not feeling too comfortable in my skin as it was, this was somewhat embarrassing at times when people would walk by the exhibits only to see me cleaning up after the Parrot who kept throwing his newly prepped and placed food on the ground and pooping in the area of the cage that I had just hosed and scrubbed. I was the poop lady. I spent most of my days cleaning the pens and, when I was through, I spent the rest of my time, filling wheelbarrows with hay to lay in the Wallaroo’s exhibit. Sometimes, when the keepers felt sorry for me, they would give me something different to do, like lining the Leopards (empty!) pen with cat nip and other sensory treats hidden in pine cones. One time, I remember blowing Emu eggs and scrambling the innards into a nice omelet. So good. And by the way, Emu eggs are huge and a beautiful green color.

My morning would begin with a walk through the Zoo at sunrise, with coffee in hand. Not a terrible way to start the day. I would walk past all my ‘friends’ and say hello. The Hippos’s, The Meerkats and The Pallas Cat all happened to be on my way to Australasia. Then, upon arrival, I would spend a couple hours weighing poop in baggies before my afternoon of cleaning poop in the pens. Weighing poop you ask? Why yes, I was helping in some experiment in which I had to weigh the poop of the tree kangaroo, daily. To this day, I am still not quite sure what that was all about.

I laugh when I look back on my days at the zoo. I had kind of a love hate relationship with the place. I have the utmost respect for the keepers. Probably one of the most difficult jobs out there. I didn’t really love all the cleaning, and the poop, but I did love seeing all the animals on a daily basis.

Now, with Baby, I have rekindled my relationship with the Wallaroos, this time from the other side of the fence, looking in.

Irish Sod-y Bread.

Everytime I make Irish Soda Bread, I am flooded with memories of St. Patricks Day at the Bakery. It was such a crazy affair, pages and pages of handscrawled special orders, counting and recounting all loaves accounted for, mixing and shaping and baking as fast as we could. I remember the order of Buttermilk that we would receive the day prior; it took up every inch of our reach in fridge. The bags and bags of flour, the pounds and pounds of butter. And I remember pulling an all nighter, starting our bake at midnight the night before just so nothing unforeseen could surprise us the next day. A missed order. Late Menu Planners. One year, I remember coming up with the idea to dye the bread green. Not the best idea, our wooden workbenches were dyed green for weeks, and so, too, were our everyday loaves of honey white, sourdough..

During the normal week, we would only offer Soda Bread of Saturdays, and it was these mornings that we could barely keep up with the customers that filled the front lobby. We almost always ran out of Soda Bread, and each week, we would up the par. Not sure why we didn’t just offer it more times during the week. We had so many breads that we did daily, and the Soda Bread pretty much trumped them all.

There is something nice about Soda Bread. In a bakery where yeast was king, this bread was the quickest to throw together. In a pinch, you could just make more…not the case with the 12 other breads that spent their days rising in buckets and garbage pails strewn about.
Soda Bread is probably the easiest bread to make too. No need to have any kneading know how, this bread shines with a light touch and its craggily imperfect top.

Today, in honor of St. Patricks Day, I decided to step back in time and make some Soda Bread. Normally, I am a purest when it comes to this bread, (just flour, butter, sugar, baking soda, salt and buttermilk) but today, I decided to add a little pizzazz, some whiskey soaked raisins. I wont mention that I didn’t have any Irish Whiskey on hand and had to go with Bourbon instead….no, I didn’t just say that, in case you are Irish. I was pretty happy with the result. The Raisins added an additional depth of flavor, which was a really nice complement to my Guinness and Beef Stew. (thanks Carrie!)

Recipe: adapted from the Bread Bible.

1 cup raisins
1/2 cup whiskey
2 oz butter
2 cups flour
3 Tabl sugar
1 teas baking soda
3/4 teas salt
3/4 (give or take a little) cup buttermilk

soak raisins in rum for 30 minutes, at least. or up to overnight..drain and reserve the whiskey for another use...(or drink it!)
mix together dry ingredients and rub the butter into the flour mix until resembles a coarse meal. add the raisins and toss. add buttermilk and mix just to incorporate. shape into a round, slash an X with a knife, about 1/2 inch deep, and bake on a lined sheetpan for 40 minutes at 375.

I am back!!

Today is the start of a new era. For the last 7 months, I have pined for cooking and baking, have yearned to write my weekly blog entries in Whisk and Wander, and we have traveled, which usually warrants a few entries and some photos. but life has changed so much in the last 7 months, that I have been tired, not rested and frankly, not too motivated to do much of anything aside from caring and doting over my baby boy.

But, the tides are changing. I have finally figured out how to get my son to fall asleep on his own. I feel like my world is opening up again, especially my free time in the evenings. So what do I do, a week after I started ‘sleep training’ him and am getting a little more rest myself? First, I have a celebratory beer and then, I cook. (tonight, its coconut curry with halibut) For the first time in several months, I have felt the urge and the energy to get back in the kitchen. Not to say that I haven’t done any cooking…but, I know, I know, potstickers and edamame don’t count now do they?

My first blog back was going to be a re-creation of the famous French Macaroon cookies that we had from Laduree in Paris. But, I admit, I am rusty and they were not blog worthy, believe me. The extent of my baking as of late has been easy stuff like scones and chocolate chip cookies.

I have been an avid walker since Z was born, and often, my walks take me into a café for a halfway point coffee and a cookie. I have been to quite a few cafes around, so I have made it my quest to find the best and worst chocolate chip cookies out there. (not really, but as a frequent buyer and eater of CCC’s, I find that I am getting duped…but am still spending the money on these things anyway..) I hate to sound like a CCC snob, but there are some doozys out there…

If I had to describe my perfect CCC, it would have a slight crunch on the outer edges and give way to a chewy interior. And, unless they are toasted pecans, I hate nuts in my cookies…and brownies and banana bread.



Place #1: This place is known for its coffee, which is roasted in small batches in house…and I love their coffee, think they make the best lattes in Seattle, but their baked goods are….pretty mediocre. Their scones are almost always underdone and their cookies are always falling apart. Whenever I ask for one, the poor barista cant seem to grab just one from the case. Most times, I get a broken one, and part of an extra one, which is nice….if only they didn’t taste so much like bananas.

Place #2: This place is known for its grilled sandwiches and soups and they serve a decent latte, but again, their baked goods are ALWAYS doughy…. ‘the baker is afraid of the oven’, doughy. But, I admit, I have been known to like an underdone cookie now and again. Not bad, I like the chewy factor…but, recently, I saw the owners walk in with a huge tub of ‘Otis Spunkmeyer’ cookie dough…so, this kind of changed everything for me…

Place #3: This place is known for its Asian inspired pastries and they all actually look delicious, but for some reason, I order a CCC instead. Their cookies are the worst texture, dry and sort of chewy, in a stale way…and, they have walnuts. Yuk. I know that they make most of their things from scratch, so I am surprised that the baker pulls these out of the oven, takes a bite, and thinks they are heaven. They are not. (bonus minus point in my book since the walnuts were rancid in my last cookie...)

Place #4: I wasn’t going to get a CCC here, but I didn’t have cash and they only accepted debit cards with 5$ or more, so I gave in. They are a Cuban coffee shop and I think are known more for there unique atmosphere and coffee than their baked goods, but I have to say that I actually liked the cookie. I wasn’t expecting much, as it was wrapped in plastic, which usually says to me.. “Day Old..” and, did I mention that it was 2.00$ ? geez…But, a Double bonus, it had chocolate chips AND m&m’s…no nuts and although it was a dense cookie, it had a good dense yet chewy texture.

I am a baker by trade, so I have to be critcal when trying out these places. But, of course, I have been to most more than once, and I have again and again ordered the same cookie, so they are hardly inedible, but I am still on the search for the best, and I guess not having found it so far keeps me baking my own at home..

Wow, has it been 3 months? geez, I promise to post soon. A recent trip to Paris and London has me thinking of Macaroons, Crepes, Croque Monsieur...things I look forward to recreating...
stay tuned...

Morning Glory, in all its glory. before and after.

I remember when I first had a Morning Glory muffin, about 25 years ago. I remember thinking that it couldn’t possibly be any good since it didn’t contain any chocolate chunks or cream cheese filling. Was I wrong. Where it lacked chocolate and cream cheese, it made up for with carrots, pineapple, raisins and coconut. To a 9 year old, it just about knocked my Vans off. My mom used to make these often, and then one day possibly after counting the calories they contained, she just stopped. Quite deceiving, they tote all the healthful ingredients, along with a healthy dose of fat. Oh well. I think that 20 years went by before I had another one, at a local and well known bakery in town. (I wont name names) Until this day, I always felt like with the Morning Glory, you can at least feel like you are eating something healthful, but this one was different, it was all too greasy. Yuk. So, it has been 5 years and while looking to clean out fridge and freezer, I came across all the ingredients…old shredded coconut..frozen pineapple..carrots..a stray apple..lost macadamia nuts..raisins..beckoning to me from behind the roasted chicken and the bag of ice,
‘mmm..remember the days..morning glory..’

I gave into their pleas, and I did what they asked.

I debated cutting back on the butter and oil, remembered my brownie fiasco, and thought the hell with it, I am going to go full force….and I was not disappointed.

Fun with Raisins, part 1.

What do you do when you have 4 pounds of puny, dried out raisins from Costco? (besides calling Sunmaid and complaining?)

You make Raisin Lekvar, that’s what!
What is Lekvar you ask? It is a fruit butter typically made from prunes or dried apricots, mainly used in European pastries…

I decided to try it out in the swirl of cinnamon raisin bread. Instead of having a bread just flecked with raisins, I ended up with a swirl of raisin-y jam like goodness. Fresh out of the oven with a little butter and cinnamon sugar, it truly was divine…




Stay tuned for part 2...

Please excuse my long hiatus from Whisk and Wander, as I have been fully consumed with motherhood and am just starting to figure out how to juggle the little guy with one arm and make cookies with the other...I hope to post more regularly from now on as I find both the free moment and the inspiration.


(baby in sling, cookies in the making...)

Back in the saddle…or trying.

Now that I am not working, every outing, whether a walk or an errand, I find that I need to have a treat in the form of an iced latte, bubble tea or Matcha Tea latte. I feel I deserve it, after all, I was able to motivate and successfully get out of the house with baby in tow. Don’t I get some kind of reward? In a way, it is those little things that I look forward to now. Going for a walk and knowing that a Matcha Tea latte awaits me after the first mile and a half, or going to the baby store in search for silicone binkies and knowing that, conveniently, the bubble tea place is around the corner, or just going to drop the mail in the mailbox outside of Lighthouse Roasters, and knowing that the best iced latte awaits me there. (even though I have a perfectly capable mailbox of my own at home, not to mention coffeemaker..)

Last week, I decided to fund my habits further by buying a cup attachment for my stroller, just for my lattes…how convenient is that?

When I step back and look at just how many coffee, iced tea lattes and bubble teas I consume a week, I try to justify it with the fact that I am not buying myself any clothes right now (trying to lose that extra 20 lbs..) and we are not eating out often..unless you count the quick runs to Paseo for Cuban goodness, or Herfeys for some greasy goodness and a shake..(yes, still trying to lose 20 lbs..)

I do have pangs of guilt though whenever I plunk down my debit card on these not so necessary items. (necessary items: diapers and wipes AND diapers and wipes..)

So, once again, I have taken to trying to duplicate my favorite drinks in the comforts of my own home. This time I have tackled the Matcha Latte with pretty good success. I actually think it surpasses the Starbucks version, which usually comes laden with way too much ice and nasty melon syrup, not to mention Matcha powder stuck to the bottom in undissolved chunks. Yum. You would think that a place like Starbucks would figure that out?

What I did was use one of those Japanese tea stirrers to dissolve the matcha in the milk, and then a cocktail shaker to create a somewhat frothy drink. I have to say that I was pretty happy with the result. Next time I walk, I will just have to take my own homemade matcha latte with me..after all, isnt it all about the journey and not the destination?

Matcha Tea Latte

6 oz good milk
1.5 teaspoons matcha tea powder
1.5 teaspoons simple syrup

In cocktail shaker, mix all together with bamboo whisk and let sit for a moment to dissolve matcha completely, add ice, shake and pour...