Happy New Year 2013!
Chewy Junior Minis
*Small chewy balls of rice and flour dough, filled and topped with a variety of flavors and choice ingredients. Satistifies the requirements for sticky and round.
Showing posts with label tsokolate (chocolate). Show all posts
Showing posts with label tsokolate (chocolate). Show all posts
Tuesday, January 01, 2013
Monday, January 09, 2012
Cups of Comfort
Rains have marked the first few days of the new year, cooling off an otherwise balmy holiday season. With a marked tropical depression uncharacteristically so early in and off-season, and with northern Mindanao still reeling from the devastation of the last typhoon, 2012 does not bode well.
But Filipinos are intimate with floods and typhoons, and treat rains as blessings. And so the weather disturbance that threatened to develop into a tropical storm actually meant the new year is off to an auspicious start.
The constant battering of nature, though, can be wearying, and worrying. More so with the fact that it doesn't just happen in the Philipphines. And the latest pronouncement from PAGASA is that the first half of the year is going to be really wet this side of the Pacific due to La Nina.
Because we are just humans and most often at the mercy of nature, what can we do but accept and be prepared? And take comfort in the fact that we are alive, in good health, with a roof over our heads, and we have our families with us. And eating good, if not well.
In times like these, and especially in tune with the season, I comfort myself with a cup of hot tsokolate, a traditional hot drink made from pure ground cacao beans. It is what I grew up drinking, because my family made the round chocolate tablets for the hot thick beverage, both for our own consumption and to fill orders of other families.
I wasn't allowed coffee as a child, and the prohibition was so effective that I carried it on into my adulthood. So a hot cup of milk chocolate is what I would nurse when meeting friends. And invariably when eating out, I would order hot chocolate if it is on the menu. This from the time I arrived in the metropolis for my college studies up to now, oftentimes sharing a large cup with my kids.
To start the year in a festive way (as if I haven't had enough of the festivities and the eating), let me share with all of you my favorite cups of hot chocolate. May they comfort you as well, and bring you warmth wherever you go. And because chocolate is good for the heart, may they soothe your hearts literally and figuratively.
~ ~ ~
- Home-Made Tsokolate - a very obvious top-most choice. I always make hot chocolate drinks at home, of course. My family has stopped making tsokolate tablea, but I soon realized as I traveled the country that it abounds in the provinces. So I scour provincial markets and bring home tablea in all shapes and sizes and in varying degrees of strength and quality.
I am also grateful for my constant supply of home-made tsokolate rolls from my aunt-in-law in Mangaldan (photo above), made from home-grown cacao beans, which my youngest frequently begs to be made into champorado for breakfast, eating it all day. She glugs the hot chocolate drink, too, all day.
Making hot chocolate to drink at home has all the advantages - the strength of the chocolate can be calibrated to one's preference, extra cups can be had at no extra cost over the course of many hours, and no one would mind if you want to lounge around cradling your cup in your pajamas.
My preferred chocolate mix is 2/3 cup water for every tablea/ball, substituting the last cup with milk, and measuring out one tablea for each person, although I usually add several tableas (with the corresponding water) over the number of people in our household as I normally drink two cups, and the kids like to have "chocolate milk" in between meals.
Gritty, with a strongly dominant chocolate flavor, just a hint of cream from the milk, the copper-bronze hue of the liquid glistening with cacao oil, and with an unmistakeable fruity tang, tsokolate is my ultimate comforting drink.
Needless to say, tsokolate from cacao tablea is the standard against which I measure any and all chocolate drinks. I am very harsh about weak chocolate drinks - steamed milk mixed with processed chocolate powder, which probably contain so many synthetic ingredients and had undergone so many processes that its taste is so far removed from its origins. So the following collection from commercial sources are not your ordinary chocolate drinks - they all have powerful chocolate flavors, and most are not silky smooth. - Pure & Best Low Fat Chocolate Milk - I have been patronizing Hacienda Macalauan products for more than two years now, although they had only become commercially available last year. I’m lucky that I work in a building near the corporate offices of the company, and my colleagues and I used to just call in an order for their vanilla and chocolate milk in 2-liter jugs, then picked them up on delivery days Tuesdays and Thursdays.
I was also a fan of the variously flavored natural yogurts, sour cream and the excellent mozzarella, the likes of which I’ve never bought anywhere else. On occasion I’ve also ordered a bottle or two of half and half and the superlative liquid cocoa, the latter like a liquid Royce dark chocolate bar that makes chocolate pastries shine, and also made for a dreamily silky chocolate drink mixed with a little vanilla milk.
Now most large supermarkets carry Hacienda milk in chocolate, strawberry, vanilla, and mango (like liquid ice cream!) flavors, plus full-cream, low-fat and half and half, in 1-liter and 200 mL cartons, as well as the yogurts. Individual cartons are also stocked by 7-11. The chocolate milk is sold at a little premium over the other milk flavors, and it is the one likely to be still in mint condition when I get home and on for the next few days.
Yes, Hacienda Macalauan milk, unlike commercially processed ones, spoil easily. When I used to buy at the corporate offices, I would bring a cooler and the staff would fill it up with ice cubes to keep the jugs cold all the way home. Now I bring an insulated bag and frozen cooling gel packs, because, as it says in the cartons, the milk has to be kept at temperature below 4 degrees C.
So if anyone out there buys and has an intervening time of more than 30 minutes from the grocery going back to your house, I suggest you do the same. And get the milk from the chiller last, just before paying at the cashier. Also always check the expiry date, and get the carton with ED the farthest. The milk is most probably already spoiled four-five days before the ED.
The vanilla milk, which everybody in my family loves, spoils the fastest, and I don’t know why but lately all vanilla milk I’ve bought were already sour and curdled even though I pack them in ice.
All this trouble for a carton of milk, you say? Yes, and all the expense, too, from the spoiled milk, and because they sell higher by about 25-30% than the UHT processed ones. It’s because they’re that good. Cold or hot, the chocolate milk is thick and velvety, and flavorsome. As the other milk flavors. The goodness comes from being preservative-free and totally organic.
The cows from which the milk come from aren’t given hormones and antibiotics, and pasture on pesticide-free grass at the foot of Mt. Makiling. All these are more than enough reasons for the trouble, even for just a cup of chocolate milk.
Pure & Best Milk
by Hacienda Macalauan
Available in most supermarkets in and around Metro Manila
Website
- Dark, Bittersweet Chocolate at Cafe by the Ruins - Whenever I am in Baguio I'm always itching to go eat at Cafe by the Ruins. If possible I'd like to have all my breakfasts there. The native tsokolate, which is called Dark, Bittersweet Chocolate on the menu, is attuned to the soul-soothing tranquility of the ambience, and instantly warms against the cold of the highlands.
Dark, deep, macho. Poured with carabao's milk, sweetened with muscovado and spiced with cinnamon, this cup of chocolate pairs perfectly with the cafe's rolls and breads. Drinking it is always a becalming way of starting my Baguio holiday.
Cafe by the Ruins
23 Chuntug Street
Baguio City
Tel. No. (074) 4424010/4464010
Website
Facebook
- Native Tsokolate at Abuelita's - this cup is creamy owing to the evaporated milk added in and scalded while the chocolate is still foaming off over fire. The chocolate is mildly potent in strength and smooth. The owner says the tablea is homemade, and can be bought at the premises for brewing at home. It is perfect with Vigan longganiza (also available at Abuelita's cooked and uncooked, and better than the ones being sold at the public market).
I've read somewhere that a small square of chocolate can remove garlic breath. In Vigan, eating Vigan longganiza for breakfast is a must, but if you don't want to be smelling like a sack of garlic while you tour the museums, imbibing a cup of Abuelita's tsokolate afterward is all it takes.
Abuelita's Restaurant
Calle Mabini corner Calle Reyes
Heritage Village
Vigan City, Ilocos Sur
I don't care much for the French rolls - perhaps it is the weather, but I've had better croissants even from supermarkets in Paris and at the airport in Rome. But I invariably find myself at the cafe for the tsokolate.
Paris Delice
1 Juno Street corner Makati Avenue
Makati City
Tel. No. (632) 2181662, 7980740
Website
BFAST
Ayala Triangle Gardens
Makati City
Starbucks Philippines
~ ~ ~
My Other Favorite Hot Drink
Milk Tea
Related Posts
Tsokolate
Champorado
Batirol
My Favorite Starbucks
Cafe by the Ruins
Royce Nama Chocolate
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Homemade Pancakes
As a rejoinder to the post immediately preceding this one, where I talked about going natural, I'd like to swallow some previous words. Eat pancakes, specifically.
For, more than two years ago, I extolled the consistent, moist and delicious quality of a local pancake brand. Reading the post now makes me cringe - it sounds like a paid write-up, though of course I've never done such a thing in my entire life. It was much of a sentimental post as anything, but still....
So I'd like to recant, and I now hereby declare that homemade pancakes are the easiest thing to make, and the most gorgeous to serve your loved ones for breakfast in the garden. And I haven't bought a packaged pancake mix for a long time now.
We make pancakes from a mix I make myself -
1 cup flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
2-3 tablespoons sugar
an egg
a pat of butter
and half a cup of milk
most of the time tripling it for a batch for a weekend breakfast. The ingredients are all store-bought, of course, but the list is mighty short and familiar compared with what I found on the box label of a pancake mix, which had some unpronounceable and scary-looking words.
And even though we don't get the same fluffy hotcakes every time, this is a very small sacrifice to pay for a mother's peace of mind. I play around with the amounts, most of the time increasing the flour, and using two eggs when I have some native ones from free-range chickens.
Homemade pancakes is cheaper, because good, fine flour at the public market is just over Php40 a kilo, and a kilo can provide about four batches of pancakes, while a pancake mix box costs about Php50 that is only good for two batches.
This is also the mix I use for waffles, which come out crispy-chewy. I use organic, vanilla-flavored milk from Hacienda Macalauan (that vanilla flavoring is another thing, but the outfit also sells pure, fresh organic milk).
What induced me to forgo the packaged mix was an episode of Nigella Lawson making blueberry pancakes for brunch after a sleep-over of a group of her daughter's friends. She made it sound so easy, and now I don't know what made me think I couldn't make homemade pancakes.
For chocolate pancakes, I add a tablespoon of cocoa powder (or more), and use chocolate milk. I haven't ventured into other flavors, but there's pure peanut butter at home (Ehje's brand) and I've tried making some using toasted peanuts ground at the market, which turned out awesome. Maybe even ube? There's the myriad of toppings, too.
These pancakes keep well, too, not going dry and flaky after an overnight stint in the refrigerator like the packaged ones, or even those from a restaurant. This is not to say that they don't sell, it's just that we usually make more than the family could consume in one sitting, and the kids are more than happy having them again in the afternoon, and with chicken-macaroni soup the next day.
I'll be so bold as to say Pancake House's pancakes are moister and fluffier than my homemade pancakes, but only by a tad. And the kids aren't the wiser.
But I am.
Related Posts
Natural Ube Muffins
Pancakes
For, more than two years ago, I extolled the consistent, moist and delicious quality of a local pancake brand. Reading the post now makes me cringe - it sounds like a paid write-up, though of course I've never done such a thing in my entire life. It was much of a sentimental post as anything, but still....
So I'd like to recant, and I now hereby declare that homemade pancakes are the easiest thing to make, and the most gorgeous to serve your loved ones for breakfast in the garden. And I haven't bought a packaged pancake mix for a long time now.
We make pancakes from a mix I make myself -
1 cup flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
2-3 tablespoons sugar
an egg
a pat of butter
and half a cup of milk
most of the time tripling it for a batch for a weekend breakfast. The ingredients are all store-bought, of course, but the list is mighty short and familiar compared with what I found on the box label of a pancake mix, which had some unpronounceable and scary-looking words.
And even though we don't get the same fluffy hotcakes every time, this is a very small sacrifice to pay for a mother's peace of mind. I play around with the amounts, most of the time increasing the flour, and using two eggs when I have some native ones from free-range chickens.
Homemade pancakes is cheaper, because good, fine flour at the public market is just over Php40 a kilo, and a kilo can provide about four batches of pancakes, while a pancake mix box costs about Php50 that is only good for two batches.
This is also the mix I use for waffles, which come out crispy-chewy. I use organic, vanilla-flavored milk from Hacienda Macalauan (that vanilla flavoring is another thing, but the outfit also sells pure, fresh organic milk).
What induced me to forgo the packaged mix was an episode of Nigella Lawson making blueberry pancakes for brunch after a sleep-over of a group of her daughter's friends. She made it sound so easy, and now I don't know what made me think I couldn't make homemade pancakes.
For chocolate pancakes, I add a tablespoon of cocoa powder (or more), and use chocolate milk. I haven't ventured into other flavors, but there's pure peanut butter at home (Ehje's brand) and I've tried making some using toasted peanuts ground at the market, which turned out awesome. Maybe even ube? There's the myriad of toppings, too.
These pancakes keep well, too, not going dry and flaky after an overnight stint in the refrigerator like the packaged ones, or even those from a restaurant. This is not to say that they don't sell, it's just that we usually make more than the family could consume in one sitting, and the kids are more than happy having them again in the afternoon, and with chicken-macaroni soup the next day.
I'll be so bold as to say Pancake House's pancakes are moister and fluffier than my homemade pancakes, but only by a tad. And the kids aren't the wiser.
But I am.
Hacienda Macalauan brand of dairy products and Ehje's homemade peanut butter are available at most SM supermarkets.
Related Posts
Natural Ube Muffins
Pancakes
Friday, September 04, 2009
Homemade Morón Recipe
The name of this Waray delicacy has accent on the second syllable, so it doesn't refer to those jerks you don't want to work with in the office. I don't know why it's called thus, but it's probably a local term that doesn't in any way relate to the highly popular English word with Greek origins.
It's something luscious, generates happiness and induces a state of high due to the pureness of the (dark) chocolate ingredient, as opposed to the imbecile qualities of the first-syllable-accented slang.
This kakanin got featured early on in the life of this blog, by a friend who participated in the Lasang Pinoy event I hosted about streetfood. There was this company selling Waray delicacies with outlets in Metro Rail Transit stations, which my friend considered to be streetside, but the kiosks have since disappeared.
So now Metro Manila denizens would have to go to Leyte for a morón fix, or should cultivate good relationships with Waray friends/relatives in hopes of receiving moron as pasalubong from home vacations, or better, receive gifts of morón cooked in homes in the metropolis.
I got acquainted with morón early on in my life because an uncle married a Waray. I'd get to sample thin rolls of morón during the rare times my family attended fiestas in my mother's barrio, where my uncle's family stayed. But more commonly morón was also served during celebrations of various milestones in my uncle's family. During that time, though, I was more interested in eating than cooking, so I never asked to be taught how morón was made.
For a class project in college, on the topic of food and culture, we imported binagol and morón direct from Leyte to feed the class while a guest lectured on food and its associations.
Then luck shined at work, where I got to meet and cultured a friendship with an office colleague from the town of Abuyog in the province of Leyte. Abuyog is famed for its morón, made by a people who are obdurate in protecting the quality of their product. Thus the Abuyog morón is unsurpassed, never commercialized (hopefully it stays this way).
So I await breathlessly every time this officemate goes home for the holidays, because at the end of vacation time a plastic bag of morón always lands on my office table.
All Filipino kakanin, which are made of rice and gata (coconut cream and/or coconut milk), are highly perishable. They are best eaten right after cooking, fast deteriorating within a few days, if they don't spoil right away.
It is the same with morón, so it can't be found outside of Leyte. It was one of my most highly anticipated things to buy during my Tacloban trip, so it was such a great big disappointment to bring home hard-as-plastic morón from Aida's at Zamora.
I was so frustrated that it actually compelled me to make morón myself, at home.
I've actually had a morón recipe for more than three years now, graciously given by a Waray cook/chef, who has used it based on the recipe of the most well-known morón-maker in Leyte. Several months after the delicacy was first featured in this blog I was contacted and was emailed the recipe. I've tried to cook from it previously, but my first two attempts were disasters.
Making morón is quite a tedious job, so it took me a long time to attempt a third time. The recipe is simple enough to follow, but the stirring and wrapping are muscle-wrenching and backache-inducing.
It also takes guts, if cooking with gata and malagkit is not one's expertise. My first attempt was actually a case of too many cooks spoiling the broth. Because I am not as well-versed when it comes to kakanin, I made morón when the family was in Pangasinan for a vacation, so I could solicit the help of an aunt-in-law, whom I considered (notice the past tense) the expert on all things made with malagkit and gata.
The recipe called for flour consisting of 75% ordinary rice (not glutinous), the fourth portion malagkit (glutinous). The aunt-in-law has a scrupulous cooking ethic, and she told me no way will she make suman that's not a hundred percent ansak-ket or malagkit.
And I agreed with her. Suman, that which citizens of Luzon are used to, made of whole glutinous rice grains, becomes hard when ordinary rice is used, or will feel like it is filled with tiny hard pebbles as it is bitten into when rice is mixed into the glutinous rice.
What we failed to consider was that we were using flour, not whole grains. Ground rice gains a sticky, soft consistency. So my first morón, made purely of glutinous rice flour, became a soft, gooey tikoy, steadfastly refusing to form into a roll but falling flat, and stickily so.
But it was delicious, and we finished it in no time, messily spooning it into our mouths. The next time I made it on my own. I can be stubborn, and I used an all-glutinous rice mix. Because I used commercially available pre-ground dry rice flour instead of soaking the rice and having it ground wet, I thought I'd get a different and much more better result.
The morón came out even stickier. I had to coax it into a pan, presenting it like a pudding, and we spooned from it because it was hopeless slicing it.
But my third attempt was providential. First I had all the right ingredients. I have great faith in the pre-ground, powdered rice flours available in public markets as well as in supermarkets and grocery stores because the quality is consistent. Glutinous as well as ordinary rice flours are available, though the ordinary rice flour is much more harder to find.
And second, the day I decided I'd make morón - last Saturday, the 29th of August - was the town fiesta of Abuyog, where there was a mania to make morón. So I was in sync with the spirit of morón-making, and maybe I was blessed with Abuyog's patron saint.
So here's the adapted recipe. I decided the original recipe, with four cups rice, would make too few suman for my big household, so I doubled it, along with the rest of the ingredients.
The morón was consumed in no time at all, and became my children's favorite. We had guests during the weekend, and they could not keep their hands off the treats. At ballet practice, my daughter brought no less than five pieces for her to snack on because she says she gets so tired by her exertions.
As for me, this is probably the best morón I've had my whole life. It's true, home-cooked treats are the best. Thanks very much, Agnes, for sharing the recipe. Now I, and my children, can have morón anytime!
Notes:
*Waray is a loose term applied to natives of the islands of Samar and Leyte, in the Eastern Visayas region.
It's something luscious, generates happiness and induces a state of high due to the pureness of the (dark) chocolate ingredient, as opposed to the imbecile qualities of the first-syllable-accented slang.
This kakanin got featured early on in the life of this blog, by a friend who participated in the Lasang Pinoy event I hosted about streetfood. There was this company selling Waray delicacies with outlets in Metro Rail Transit stations, which my friend considered to be streetside, but the kiosks have since disappeared.
So now Metro Manila denizens would have to go to Leyte for a morón fix, or should cultivate good relationships with Waray friends/relatives in hopes of receiving moron as pasalubong from home vacations, or better, receive gifts of morón cooked in homes in the metropolis.
I got acquainted with morón early on in my life because an uncle married a Waray. I'd get to sample thin rolls of morón during the rare times my family attended fiestas in my mother's barrio, where my uncle's family stayed. But more commonly morón was also served during celebrations of various milestones in my uncle's family. During that time, though, I was more interested in eating than cooking, so I never asked to be taught how morón was made.
For a class project in college, on the topic of food and culture, we imported binagol and morón direct from Leyte to feed the class while a guest lectured on food and its associations.
Then luck shined at work, where I got to meet and cultured a friendship with an office colleague from the town of Abuyog in the province of Leyte. Abuyog is famed for its morón, made by a people who are obdurate in protecting the quality of their product. Thus the Abuyog morón is unsurpassed, never commercialized (hopefully it stays this way).
So I await breathlessly every time this officemate goes home for the holidays, because at the end of vacation time a plastic bag of morón always lands on my office table.
All Filipino kakanin, which are made of rice and gata (coconut cream and/or coconut milk), are highly perishable. They are best eaten right after cooking, fast deteriorating within a few days, if they don't spoil right away.
It is the same with morón, so it can't be found outside of Leyte. It was one of my most highly anticipated things to buy during my Tacloban trip, so it was such a great big disappointment to bring home hard-as-plastic morón from Aida's at Zamora.
I was so frustrated that it actually compelled me to make morón myself, at home.
I've actually had a morón recipe for more than three years now, graciously given by a Waray cook/chef, who has used it based on the recipe of the most well-known morón-maker in Leyte. Several months after the delicacy was first featured in this blog I was contacted and was emailed the recipe. I've tried to cook from it previously, but my first two attempts were disasters.
Making morón is quite a tedious job, so it took me a long time to attempt a third time. The recipe is simple enough to follow, but the stirring and wrapping are muscle-wrenching and backache-inducing.
It also takes guts, if cooking with gata and malagkit is not one's expertise. My first attempt was actually a case of too many cooks spoiling the broth. Because I am not as well-versed when it comes to kakanin, I made morón when the family was in Pangasinan for a vacation, so I could solicit the help of an aunt-in-law, whom I considered (notice the past tense) the expert on all things made with malagkit and gata.
The recipe called for flour consisting of 75% ordinary rice (not glutinous), the fourth portion malagkit (glutinous). The aunt-in-law has a scrupulous cooking ethic, and she told me no way will she make suman that's not a hundred percent ansak-ket or malagkit.
And I agreed with her. Suman, that which citizens of Luzon are used to, made of whole glutinous rice grains, becomes hard when ordinary rice is used, or will feel like it is filled with tiny hard pebbles as it is bitten into when rice is mixed into the glutinous rice.
What we failed to consider was that we were using flour, not whole grains. Ground rice gains a sticky, soft consistency. So my first morón, made purely of glutinous rice flour, became a soft, gooey tikoy, steadfastly refusing to form into a roll but falling flat, and stickily so.
But it was delicious, and we finished it in no time, messily spooning it into our mouths. The next time I made it on my own. I can be stubborn, and I used an all-glutinous rice mix. Because I used commercially available pre-ground dry rice flour instead of soaking the rice and having it ground wet, I thought I'd get a different and much more better result.
The morón came out even stickier. I had to coax it into a pan, presenting it like a pudding, and we spooned from it because it was hopeless slicing it.
But my third attempt was providential. First I had all the right ingredients. I have great faith in the pre-ground, powdered rice flours available in public markets as well as in supermarkets and grocery stores because the quality is consistent. Glutinous as well as ordinary rice flours are available, though the ordinary rice flour is much more harder to find.
And second, the day I decided I'd make morón - last Saturday, the 29th of August - was the town fiesta of Abuyog, where there was a mania to make morón. So I was in sync with the spirit of morón-making, and maybe I was blessed with Abuyog's patron saint.
So here's the adapted recipe. I decided the original recipe, with four cups rice, would make too few suman for my big household, so I doubled it, along with the rest of the ingredients.
The morón was consumed in no time at all, and became my children's favorite. We had guests during the weekend, and they could not keep their hands off the treats. At ballet practice, my daughter brought no less than five pieces for her to snack on because she says she gets so tired by her exertions.
As for me, this is probably the best morón I've had my whole life. It's true, home-cooked treats are the best. Thanks very much, Agnes, for sharing the recipe. Now I, and my children, can have morón anytime!
Morón
Ingredients
2 kilos grated coconut meat
8 cups boiling water
6 cups ordinary rice flour
2 cups glutinous rice flour
30 chocolate tableya, melted with 1/4 cup water
1 cup chopped peanuts
1 kilo muscovado sugar
1 bar cheddar cheese, julienned
1 small bottle vanilla extract
1 big can evaporated milk
½ kilo white (refined) granulated sugar
banana leaves, cut into 8"x10" rectangles, about 30 pieces
Makes about 30 4"-long pieces
Procedure
- Put grated coconut meat in a basin and pour the boiling water. Set aside. (Alternatively, use the equivalent of 8 cups canned coconut milk)
- Mix flours thoroughly until evenly incorporated. Divide into two equal parts.
- When the coconut mixture is cool enough to handle, squeeze the grated meat, going around and repeating to ensure all the coconut meat have been squeezed. Strain the resulting cream in a fine strainer. Divide the cream into two parts.
- Pour one-half of the flour in a thick-bottomed pan (preferably kawa or big kawali) and mix in one part coconut cream, the melted chocolate, the muscovado sugar, peanuts and vanilla extract. Mix over medium heat, stirring constantly. Uneven lumps will form at first, but keep stirring until the mixture evens out and thickens. When oil begins to come out, turn off heat, and transfer pan to a counter to cool.
- Add the remaining coconut cream to the second half of rice flour, and mix in the evaporated milk and about half of the white sugar. Cook in a separate pan over medium heat, stirring constantly. Add more sugar to desired taste (not too sweet). Cool.
- Pass the banana leaves over a candle on both sides so they become pliant. Then rub the squeezed-dry coconut meat over them.
- Get a heaping tablespoonful of the chocolate mixture and put on the shorter edge of a banana leaf wrapper. Sprinkle cheese on it. Put the edge of the banana wrapper over the mixture then roll, the banana leaf covering the mixture so your hands don't touch it. Roll until the mixture forms into a thin cylinder. Place this in the middle of the wrapper. Get a heaping tablespoonful of the white mixture and put on the shorter edge of the same banana wrapper and repeat the procedure.
- Put the two cylinders (chocolate and white) side by side, put the edge of the wrapper over them, then roll again, so that the two fuse into one thicker cylinder. Alternatively, coil the chocolate cylinder around the white one, then roll.
- Put the cylinder on the shorter edge of the wrapper, then roll the wrapper tightly up to the opposite edge. The moron should have been rolled over no less than three times. Secure both ends by tightly tying with a string.
- Repeat until all the two mixtures have been used up.
- Steam for 45 minutes to an hour. Let cool.
Notes:
- The original recipe called for three cups rice flour and one cup glutinous rice flour. I used six cups rice flour and two cups glutinous rice flour.
- Only 1/2 kilo white sugar was specified, to be added to the white mixture. I added muscovado sugar to the chocolate mixture because it was too bitter (the tableya is 100% dark chocolate). I loved it this way, as the muscovado added depth of flavor.
- I did not use up all of the half-kilo sugar for the white mixture.
- The original recipe called for a three-hour steaming. This is for those pans with an elevated slotted layer on top, with the water boiling below. The moron can be submerged in a pan full of water and boiled, for only 45 minutes to an hour. Just make sure the banana leaves have been rolled tight, the ends tied securely so that the water won't get into the moron.
- I used coin-sized, thin tsokolate tablea bought in Tacloban, which is available in all islands of the Visayas, particularly Cebu and Bohol, used for making sikwate. The sweetened tablea in supermarkets can substitute, about five rolls or 25 tableas. Omit the muscovado sugar in the chocolate mixture. I was told Valhrona dark chocolate will make the moron more luscious, and my friend from Abuyog says they use Hershey's liquid dark chocolate. I prefer to use tablea, though. It's in keeping with preserving its origins. And I like the tang of it. But if using a bar of dark chocolate, use about 200-300 grams.
*Waray is a loose term applied to natives of the islands of Samar and Leyte, in the Eastern Visayas region.
Related Posts
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Tola
Charito's Delights
Leyte Pineapples
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
Becky's Brownies
cherry walnut brownies
I may have lambasted Becky's cakes in my previous post, but that doesn't diminish my love of and devotion to her brownies.
They are the softest brownie ever, full of good things one can ever dream of. A fruit and nut tandem, the cherry-walnut brownie is my favorite, for the contrasting combination of mushily mild acidity and crunch, enrobed by an almost pudding-like, chocolatey crumb.
Available in indiviually wrapped portions or hefty bars in a box, it is a heavyweight brownie. In the office we love to pair it with vanilla ice cream for a dreamily luxurious desert. No need for a shot of insulin - the brownie is lightly sweetened, just enough for the cherries to shine through.
It also goes nice with coffee or hot tea, which is apt for the current weather. It's divine, though, on its own, to better appreciate the silkiness of the crumb, and the contrasting flavors it is filled with.
They are the softest brownie ever, full of good things one can ever dream of. A fruit and nut tandem, the cherry-walnut brownie is my favorite, for the contrasting combination of mushily mild acidity and crunch, enrobed by an almost pudding-like, chocolatey crumb.
Available in indiviually wrapped portions or hefty bars in a box, it is a heavyweight brownie. In the office we love to pair it with vanilla ice cream for a dreamily luxurious desert. No need for a shot of insulin - the brownie is lightly sweetened, just enough for the cherries to shine through.
It also goes nice with coffee or hot tea, which is apt for the current weather. It's divine, though, on its own, to better appreciate the silkiness of the crumb, and the contrasting flavors it is filled with.
Becky's Kitchen
1061 P. Ocampo corner Bautista Street, Manila
Tel. No. (632) 5251648, 5234245
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Almond Chocolate Fudge Cake
Cake of the Month
As the family marks my third child’s progress onto her first year, I will be celebrating her monthly birth day in this blog by featuring a cake. Lined up for the next twelve months, and hopefully on afterwards, are old-time favorites, reliable standards, as well as new discoveries, as I go on a quest for the best cakes around the country.
I regularly pass by this restaurant, Malen's, along Noveleta in Cavite, going to and coming from work. The restaurant sports the subtitle pizza, pasta, bakeshop. I haven't had the chance to eat there yet, except once when we tried the Filipino dinner buffet served on Tuesdays and Fridays.
But I went out of my way to drop by this week, as I remembered the "bakeshop" appellation. I haven't been out of town much lately, and I am getting tired of suffering one frustration after another sampling Metro Manila's cakes.
Malen's bakes a few cakes, but there are a lot of refrigerated, graham- or chiffon-based floats, tortes and trifles. Which I haven't tried as I don't buy this kind of desserts - they're easy to make and much more cost effective home-made.
The baked cakes are all chocolate based - the usual black forest, rocky road, chocolate fudge, and almond chocolate fudge. I was told that the first two's cake base is not pure chocolate. That, and the fact that I never liked any black forest cake I've tried, and I hate rocky road ice cream, nudged me to the last two.
Which are cakes of the pure chocolate kind. The chocolate fudge is the simpler, more basic version - black chocolate pound cake in two layers, coated with a thick ganache of milk chocolate that's also present between the layers of chocolate cake, decorated with cylinders of chocolate shavings on the sides and on top. It is an elaborate, and a bit sweeter, version of the astounding Belgian chocolate cake at a La Creme in San Fernando City, Pampanga.
The almond chocolate fudge is the fancier kind. The same cake base and icing, patted with almond slices, piped with whipped milk chocolate creme, sprinkled on top with shaved chocolate curls, then finished off with a dusting of powdered sugar.
The chocolate cake is dense - so tight-crumbed and heavy - and very buttery. Nutty, too. Pure chocolate to the core - so pure that it's black. It is also very lightly sweetened, that it almost has the tendency to be cloying, especially since the cake is almost six inches thick, so even a thin slice will get you too much cake.
But thankfully, the filling and icing are a bit overboard sweet, which nicely makes up for the seemingly sugar-free crumb (is it just me, or does your mind violently react to low-sugar chocolate, too?).
On its own the cake could also have been boring, but the ganache, creme, chocolate swirls and almonds provide scintillating contrasts in sweetness, texture, flavor, with gradations of chocolate in many forms.
A success story, for me.
But I went out of my way to drop by this week, as I remembered the "bakeshop" appellation. I haven't been out of town much lately, and I am getting tired of suffering one frustration after another sampling Metro Manila's cakes.
Malen's bakes a few cakes, but there are a lot of refrigerated, graham- or chiffon-based floats, tortes and trifles. Which I haven't tried as I don't buy this kind of desserts - they're easy to make and much more cost effective home-made.
The baked cakes are all chocolate based - the usual black forest, rocky road, chocolate fudge, and almond chocolate fudge. I was told that the first two's cake base is not pure chocolate. That, and the fact that I never liked any black forest cake I've tried, and I hate rocky road ice cream, nudged me to the last two.
Which are cakes of the pure chocolate kind. The chocolate fudge is the simpler, more basic version - black chocolate pound cake in two layers, coated with a thick ganache of milk chocolate that's also present between the layers of chocolate cake, decorated with cylinders of chocolate shavings on the sides and on top. It is an elaborate, and a bit sweeter, version of the astounding Belgian chocolate cake at a La Creme in San Fernando City, Pampanga.
The almond chocolate fudge is the fancier kind. The same cake base and icing, patted with almond slices, piped with whipped milk chocolate creme, sprinkled on top with shaved chocolate curls, then finished off with a dusting of powdered sugar.
The chocolate cake is dense - so tight-crumbed and heavy - and very buttery. Nutty, too. Pure chocolate to the core - so pure that it's black. It is also very lightly sweetened, that it almost has the tendency to be cloying, especially since the cake is almost six inches thick, so even a thin slice will get you too much cake.
But thankfully, the filling and icing are a bit overboard sweet, which nicely makes up for the seemingly sugar-free crumb (is it just me, or does your mind violently react to low-sugar chocolate, too?).
On its own the cake could also have been boring, but the ganache, creme, chocolate swirls and almonds provide scintillating contrasts in sweetness, texture, flavor, with gradations of chocolate in many forms.
A success story, for me.
Almond Chocolate Fudge Cake, 10" Php695, 6" Php410
Malen's
Pizza, Pasta, Bakeshop
9025 Magdiwang Highway
Noveleta, Cavite
Tel. No. (046) 4385027, 4381634
www.malens.multiply.com
Cakes of the Month
Divine Chocolate Cake, by Divine Sweets (Puerto Princesa, Palawan)
Cakelines, by Jon-Rhiz (Cavite City)
Dayap Chiffon Cake, by Kiss Cafe (UP Diliman, Quezon City)
Belgian Chocolate Cake, by a La Creme (City of San Fernando, Pampanga)
White Chocolate Mousse, by Gateau de Manille (Katipunan Avenue, Quezon City)
Mango Cake, by Red Ribbon (with outlets all across the country)
Ube Cake, by Goodies and Sweets (several locations across Metro Manila)
Mango Charlotte by Sweet Bella (Dasmarinas Village, Makati City)
Strawberry Cake by Vizco’s (Baguio City)
Caramel Cake by Estrel's (Quezon City)
Marshmallow Birthday Cake by Estrel's (Quezon City)
Friday, January 23, 2009
More Than Just Peanut Brittle
Tourists and visitors to the Philippines' summer capital always lug home one of the city's well-known products - peanut brittle, either as pasalubong, or as a keepsake for one's pantry. Peanut brittle appears in many forms in the city of pines - in very thin, buttery rectangular sheets embedded with pounded peanuts, which are considered the most inferior, and also the cheapest, to whole or halved nuts encased in torn nests of butter caramel in a spectrum of colors, from pale to golden to bronze to dark brown.
Among these, the most popular, and the most expensive, are two brands considered neck-to-neck rivals - Tantamco's and Romana's. A national broadsheet once featured an article comparing the two products point for point. I am not going to do that here, since, honestly, I can't tell much of a difference between the two.
But if I were to choose one to promote, I'd do that for Romana's, because, as I learned only a few years ago myself, it is a brand sprung and grown in my home province of Pangasinan.
Specifically, it was born in the municipality of Mangaldan, which is adjacent to the pilgrimage town of Manaoag. I learned about this because my husband traces his family roots to Mangaldan, and we inevitably visited the town every time we are home.
At first I thought those billboards of the Romana's trademark label I had been seeing were in imitation of the Baguio delicacy, or at best an outlet carrying Baguio products, so would cost more. So I had been surprised to know the truth when I had the chance to visit the outlets.
But the surprise did not end there, because, it turns out, Romana's is not just a label for one of the best (dare I say the best?) peanut brittle in the country (whole roasted peanuts in crackly, buttery toffee caramel), but also for a whole slew of other peanut products, and more.
Aside from the famous peanut brittle, there's roasted or fried whole peanuts, creamy peanut butter, nutty yema and polvoron, cornik or chichacorn (crunchy fried corn kernels), banana brittle (Romana's version of banana chips, but using whole slices that's just slightly sweetened with honey, and not snappy-crunchy but verging on the chewy-crunchy), kundol (sweetened dried wax gourd), ube jam, tsokolate tablea which I hoard like a crazed addict.
Sometimes there's also the provincial bibingka - small white things made with ground rice and slivers of coconut meat, not fluffy and eggy like the Metro Manila versions but dense and heavy, and slightly sweet, akin to puto and not cakey.
My husband drives by the outlets, fast, whenever we're in Mangaldan because of the sugar overload the family is likely to get from all those sweet things. But once in a while, about once or twice a year, he takes pity on me, and drops me off to indulge myself.
And of course every balikbayan we entertain is likely to be brought to Romana's, for a taste, or a reminiscing, as well as for a box of goodies to take home, wherever in the world it is.
Romana's is worth making a side trip to from a pilgrimage to Manaoag. It is just a few kilometers away, going towards Dagupan City. Aside from Romana's, the town's not-to-miss offerings include intemtem, better known as tupig, the pancit at the New Mangaldan Panciteria (better know locally as the bangking pancitan) along Rizal Avenue by the public market, which is good eaten with Manaoag puto, and the tapan dweg (tapang kalabaw, carabao/water buffalo beef jerky) at the town market.
Among these, the most popular, and the most expensive, are two brands considered neck-to-neck rivals - Tantamco's and Romana's. A national broadsheet once featured an article comparing the two products point for point. I am not going to do that here, since, honestly, I can't tell much of a difference between the two.
But if I were to choose one to promote, I'd do that for Romana's, because, as I learned only a few years ago myself, it is a brand sprung and grown in my home province of Pangasinan.
Specifically, it was born in the municipality of Mangaldan, which is adjacent to the pilgrimage town of Manaoag. I learned about this because my husband traces his family roots to Mangaldan, and we inevitably visited the town every time we are home.
At first I thought those billboards of the Romana's trademark label I had been seeing were in imitation of the Baguio delicacy, or at best an outlet carrying Baguio products, so would cost more. So I had been surprised to know the truth when I had the chance to visit the outlets.
But the surprise did not end there, because, it turns out, Romana's is not just a label for one of the best (dare I say the best?) peanut brittle in the country (whole roasted peanuts in crackly, buttery toffee caramel), but also for a whole slew of other peanut products, and more.
Aside from the famous peanut brittle, there's roasted or fried whole peanuts, creamy peanut butter, nutty yema and polvoron, cornik or chichacorn (crunchy fried corn kernels), banana brittle (Romana's version of banana chips, but using whole slices that's just slightly sweetened with honey, and not snappy-crunchy but verging on the chewy-crunchy), kundol (sweetened dried wax gourd), ube jam, tsokolate tablea which I hoard like a crazed addict.
Sometimes there's also the provincial bibingka - small white things made with ground rice and slivers of coconut meat, not fluffy and eggy like the Metro Manila versions but dense and heavy, and slightly sweet, akin to puto and not cakey.
My husband drives by the outlets, fast, whenever we're in Mangaldan because of the sugar overload the family is likely to get from all those sweet things. But once in a while, about once or twice a year, he takes pity on me, and drops me off to indulge myself.
And of course every balikbayan we entertain is likely to be brought to Romana's, for a taste, or a reminiscing, as well as for a box of goodies to take home, wherever in the world it is.
Romana's is worth making a side trip to from a pilgrimage to Manaoag. It is just a few kilometers away, going towards Dagupan City. Aside from Romana's, the town's not-to-miss offerings include intemtem, better known as tupig, the pancit at the New Mangaldan Panciteria (better know locally as the bangking pancitan) along Rizal Avenue by the public market, which is good eaten with Manaoag puto, and the tapan dweg (tapang kalabaw, carabao/water buffalo beef jerky) at the town market.
Romana's
Rotico Products
Mangaldan, Pangasinan 2432
Tel. No. (075) 5235739
*Two outlets in Mangaldan, Pangasinan, one by the side of the town plaza across the municipal hall, on the way to Manaoag, and at the tourist patio at the corner of the block occupied by the Roman Catholic Church
Monday, January 12, 2009
Choco-Strawberry Float
Fresh strawberries being sold along the streets of Baguio before the new year had the tag price of about P100 per kilo, on average. On the day the family was to go back down to the lowlands, we spent the morning lounging in Burnham Park, in one of our picnics, and fruit vendors were going around loaded with basket trays on their heads.
One such vendor approached me, carrying these incredibly gorgeous, large red and extremely fragrant strawberries of the Shoga variety. But I waved her off when she said they cost P130 a kilo. I said I'd buy if she would give it at P100, but she retorted I wouldn't find any strawberries at that price that day.
She went back to me after a round or so of the park, I guess, and was giving it at P120. I should have realized it was already a steal and should have bought 5 kilos right then and there, considering we haven't had fresh Baguio strawberries in almost two years, more so the Japanese kind. But the stingy me prevailed and thought I could still scour the streets for something cheaper.
It turns out we didn't have the time, not even for my mandatory foray into the market for vegetables (fresh shiitake, button and oyster mushrooms, asparagus, kuchay flowers, broccoli, kailan leaves...those in Metro Manila groceries don't taste as good). We had no choice but to stop by the stands along Kennon Road, and bite the gauntlet.
At those stands, already some 8 kilometers out of Baguio City, there were strawberries in boxes, but only in small to medium sizes. And when I asked, they were going at P160. I felt painful tugs at the pit of my stomach, as I haggled to no avail. So I had them weighed, which elicited weird looks from the vendors. The boxes weighed about 800 grams, so I asked how much is per box.
Again they raised their eyebrows and said P160. I pointed out that each box has only 800 grams of strawberries. They must have thought this is one dense girl, as they replied that the price per kilo was P200.
Of course it is standard practice that when you ask, the price quoted is by the kilo, not by the box. But never mind that I looked foolish, as I already felt like hitting my head with a shovel by then.
The only strawberries I could buy, after almost two years, were of inferior quality, and they were more expensive by 67% than those luscious looking large ones I had forgone at Burnham Park.
But enough of my heehawing, strawberries are strawberries, and the ones I bought (just 2 kilos, and paid with a heavy, reluctant heart) were good enough, particularly since I didn't have better ones to compare them to.
We ate them fresh and simply, by themselves, for breakfast. But any trip out of the mountains causes strawberries bruises, which quickly fester into pus-filled black cavities.
So I had to make use of half of my stash fast. Shakes were out of the question, as mists surrounded the fields mornings and twilights, resulting in chilly days perfect for sleeping in.
When I was still single, my friends and I went on bonding trips to Baguio, cooking and chilling out, literally, in a house on Gibraltar road, and we made floats or refrigerated layered desserts using strawberries. Our favorite then was a two- or three-layered affair using crushed, chicken-flavored Sunflower crackers, and sweetened cream.
It was delectable, the saltiness and flavor of the crackers pairing well with the strawberries. This is very Filipino, having sour fruits with salt - lots of it. The saltiness also cut through the sweet cream of the dessert.
But this time I wanted to make use of the excess chocolate cake unbelievably languishing in the refrigerator due to chocolate satiety. Plus, the only cream available in the groceries after Christmas were of the strawberry-flavored kind.
It was easy to imagine these three together - and they resulted in an impressive dessert. Simple, but strikingly pleasing, and incredibly easy to assemble. A thick layer of the chocolate cake (preferably dark/bitter sweet) as the bottom "crust," an equally thick spread of strawberry-flavored cream sweetened a little with condensed milk and blitzed with fresh strawberries, then topped with fresh strawberries, half-submerged in the cream.
I only made one layer, deciding that a two- or three-layered dessert would be messier to dig in. Nestle's strawberry-flavored cream was not as runny as the all-purpose one, and it resulted in a lusciously thick filling. I mixed in half a bottle of cream cheese spread, which further thickened it, to the point of being almost "chewy" when chilled. My sister-in-law said it was like ice cream - in fact, it was better than any strawberry ice cream I've had, due to its thickness.
The trio of chocolate, cream and strawberries were made for one another. They were perfect together - the bittersweet chocolate and the sweet cream with salty hints from the cream cheese served to bring out the sweet-tartness of the strawberries, enhancing their fruitiness. I couldn't have had strawberries any better, even in any shortcake.
The only thing that could improve this, I imagine, is using a flourless bittersweet chocolate cake, which I vow to make as soon strawberries are in their peak.
One such vendor approached me, carrying these incredibly gorgeous, large red and extremely fragrant strawberries of the Shoga variety. But I waved her off when she said they cost P130 a kilo. I said I'd buy if she would give it at P100, but she retorted I wouldn't find any strawberries at that price that day.
She went back to me after a round or so of the park, I guess, and was giving it at P120. I should have realized it was already a steal and should have bought 5 kilos right then and there, considering we haven't had fresh Baguio strawberries in almost two years, more so the Japanese kind. But the stingy me prevailed and thought I could still scour the streets for something cheaper.
It turns out we didn't have the time, not even for my mandatory foray into the market for vegetables (fresh shiitake, button and oyster mushrooms, asparagus, kuchay flowers, broccoli, kailan leaves...those in Metro Manila groceries don't taste as good). We had no choice but to stop by the stands along Kennon Road, and bite the gauntlet.
At those stands, already some 8 kilometers out of Baguio City, there were strawberries in boxes, but only in small to medium sizes. And when I asked, they were going at P160. I felt painful tugs at the pit of my stomach, as I haggled to no avail. So I had them weighed, which elicited weird looks from the vendors. The boxes weighed about 800 grams, so I asked how much is per box.
Again they raised their eyebrows and said P160. I pointed out that each box has only 800 grams of strawberries. They must have thought this is one dense girl, as they replied that the price per kilo was P200.
Of course it is standard practice that when you ask, the price quoted is by the kilo, not by the box. But never mind that I looked foolish, as I already felt like hitting my head with a shovel by then.
The only strawberries I could buy, after almost two years, were of inferior quality, and they were more expensive by 67% than those luscious looking large ones I had forgone at Burnham Park.
But enough of my heehawing, strawberries are strawberries, and the ones I bought (just 2 kilos, and paid with a heavy, reluctant heart) were good enough, particularly since I didn't have better ones to compare them to.
We ate them fresh and simply, by themselves, for breakfast. But any trip out of the mountains causes strawberries bruises, which quickly fester into pus-filled black cavities.
So I had to make use of half of my stash fast. Shakes were out of the question, as mists surrounded the fields mornings and twilights, resulting in chilly days perfect for sleeping in.
When I was still single, my friends and I went on bonding trips to Baguio, cooking and chilling out, literally, in a house on Gibraltar road, and we made floats or refrigerated layered desserts using strawberries. Our favorite then was a two- or three-layered affair using crushed, chicken-flavored Sunflower crackers, and sweetened cream.
It was delectable, the saltiness and flavor of the crackers pairing well with the strawberries. This is very Filipino, having sour fruits with salt - lots of it. The saltiness also cut through the sweet cream of the dessert.
But this time I wanted to make use of the excess chocolate cake unbelievably languishing in the refrigerator due to chocolate satiety. Plus, the only cream available in the groceries after Christmas were of the strawberry-flavored kind.
It was easy to imagine these three together - and they resulted in an impressive dessert. Simple, but strikingly pleasing, and incredibly easy to assemble. A thick layer of the chocolate cake (preferably dark/bitter sweet) as the bottom "crust," an equally thick spread of strawberry-flavored cream sweetened a little with condensed milk and blitzed with fresh strawberries, then topped with fresh strawberries, half-submerged in the cream.
I only made one layer, deciding that a two- or three-layered dessert would be messier to dig in. Nestle's strawberry-flavored cream was not as runny as the all-purpose one, and it resulted in a lusciously thick filling. I mixed in half a bottle of cream cheese spread, which further thickened it, to the point of being almost "chewy" when chilled. My sister-in-law said it was like ice cream - in fact, it was better than any strawberry ice cream I've had, due to its thickness.
The trio of chocolate, cream and strawberries were made for one another. They were perfect together - the bittersweet chocolate and the sweet cream with salty hints from the cream cheese served to bring out the sweet-tartness of the strawberries, enhancing their fruitiness. I couldn't have had strawberries any better, even in any shortcake.
The only thing that could improve this, I imagine, is using a flourless bittersweet chocolate cake, which I vow to make as soon strawberries are in their peak.
Related Post
Choco-Mango Float
Crema de Fruta
What/where to eat in Baguio
Cinnamon Swirl Loaf
Vizco's Strawberry Shortcake
Rose Bowl/Sizzling Plate
Cafe by the Ruins
Monday, November 17, 2008
Champurado
Champurado, or champorado, is common fare that has attained the status of comfort food. It is perfect for breakfast for the approaching cold months, though it is eaten any time of the year. Tsokolate, the native (local), hand-made chocolate, and champurado are actually festive fare that are associated with the Christmas season.
The best way I can describe it is that it is a chocolate porridge. It is glutinous rice boiled with chocolate until thick and mushy, then milk is swirled onto it before serving.
Ordinarily, left-over steamed rice can be used for champurado. It is put in a bowl, a chocolate beverage is poured on it, and mixed, much like having cereals in the morning.
But the special kind is made with tablea, the native chocolate that is gritty and grainy, with hints of tang and zest, and smells and tastes of roasted cacao beans. And to be especially thick and viscous, glutinous rice is used.
I eat champurado warm, mixed with a cup of evaporated milk, and topped with a teaspoon of powdered cinnamon. It brings back memories of cold misty dawns and blinking parols (star lanterns) in a myriad of colors, and the sound of tolling church bells vibrating in the air. And of a general feeling of euphoria, of a spirit shared by everyone who's kinder, more patient, more gracious. Of a world more hopeful.
I like to cook the tsokolate thoroughly before adding the glutinous rice - fully dissolved, and preferably beaten for a silky smooth chocolate. I put an entire roll of tablea, about a dozen pieces, for 2-3 cups of glutinous rice, for an intense chocolate flavor. I follow the standard 1 tablea:1 cup water ratio. When the chocolate has been beaten, I add the rice and stir until cooked.
Others eat champurado with flakes of tinapa (smoked fish), or tuyo (salted dried fish). The contrast in flavors is polar - smoky-sweet, salty-sweet.
I prefer a monochromatic effect, though, so it's a simple chocolate-milk-cinnamon mix for me. When I am in the mood I mix in fruits - sliced bananas, grated apples and pears, which provide a slightly different shade of sweetness, highlighting the fruitiness of the chocolate.
The best way I can describe it is that it is a chocolate porridge. It is glutinous rice boiled with chocolate until thick and mushy, then milk is swirled onto it before serving.
Ordinarily, left-over steamed rice can be used for champurado. It is put in a bowl, a chocolate beverage is poured on it, and mixed, much like having cereals in the morning.
But the special kind is made with tablea, the native chocolate that is gritty and grainy, with hints of tang and zest, and smells and tastes of roasted cacao beans. And to be especially thick and viscous, glutinous rice is used.
I eat champurado warm, mixed with a cup of evaporated milk, and topped with a teaspoon of powdered cinnamon. It brings back memories of cold misty dawns and blinking parols (star lanterns) in a myriad of colors, and the sound of tolling church bells vibrating in the air. And of a general feeling of euphoria, of a spirit shared by everyone who's kinder, more patient, more gracious. Of a world more hopeful.
I like to cook the tsokolate thoroughly before adding the glutinous rice - fully dissolved, and preferably beaten for a silky smooth chocolate. I put an entire roll of tablea, about a dozen pieces, for 2-3 cups of glutinous rice, for an intense chocolate flavor. I follow the standard 1 tablea:1 cup water ratio. When the chocolate has been beaten, I add the rice and stir until cooked.
Others eat champurado with flakes of tinapa (smoked fish), or tuyo (salted dried fish). The contrast in flavors is polar - smoky-sweet, salty-sweet.
I prefer a monochromatic effect, though, so it's a simple chocolate-milk-cinnamon mix for me. When I am in the mood I mix in fruits - sliced bananas, grated apples and pears, which provide a slightly different shade of sweetness, highlighting the fruitiness of the chocolate.
Related Posts
Tsokolate
Tsokolate Batidor
Friday, November 07, 2008
Batidor
I grew up drinking hot chocolate made by my family, the entire process of making it performed in our very own home - in the backyard, front yard and kitchen. This chocolate - tsokolate tablea, chocolate tablets - is made specifically for drinking, and the process has been handed down from generations of ancestors.
But this process of chocolate-making is not exclusive to our own family, nor even to my hometown, nor even to my province. This kind of chocolate can be found all over the country, with a specific culture surrounding it in each region - what is added to it, what form does it take, how it is served (what implements, utensils are used), what is eaten with it, when it is drunk, how else it is cooked, etc.
What is common across ethno-linguisitic cultures, though, is that it is boiled into a hot chocolate drink, and it is also used into the Filipino breakfast comfort food, champurado, consisting of sticky rice cooked in chocolate, like some sort of chocolate porridge. Again there are variations as to how this is eaten, because some add flakes of smoked fish, or salted fish.
In my family we made and drunk, drink, hot chocolate purely and simply, just add sugar, perhaps a cup of milk at the very end of the boiling. The hot chocolate is tangy and gritty, with a thin layer of bronze cocoa oil on the surface of the drink. The kids and I like our hot tsokolate with a generous sprinkling of cinnamon powder.
In other regions, though, as I've mentioned, an entire culture is involved in the drinking. And in several locations, they make use of an implement, called a batidor, or a batirol, or a mollinillo, which is part of a two-tool machinery.
The batidor is a carved wooden tool that is referred to as a chocolate beater. The chocolate drink is put in a special container shaped like a jug with a narrow opening and a bulbous bottom, and swirled and whisked by the beater.
In other regions the chocolate mixture is beaten while it is still merrily boiling in the pot or deep pan. It prevents burning of the chocolate, incorporates the sugar and milk, and helps smoothen the drink.
In both methods, the batirol is placed vertically into the pan or jug (called a chocolatera, but is also called a batirol), the carved bottom submerged in the chocolate mixture, with the handle placed between the palms. The handle is then rolled, each hand alternately pushing and pulling in swift fashion, keeping the batidor within the vicinity of the middle of both palms. I don't know if I'm making sense here, but it is akin to rolling a piece of clay dough between your hands to form a toy snake, or worm, if you prefer.
The rolling - beating - should be fast, to be done in about ten to fifteen minutes, after the chocolate tablets have dissolved and milk and/or sugar has been added (tableas are sold either with or without sugar).
Tableas should be cooked in a deep pan, because the mixture boils over. Ideally, the proportions should be one cup, or less, of water per tablea. I usually take away a cup, to be substituted with the milk later on. The tableas are put in the water and brought to a boil with the lid on. Once the mixture is boiling briskly, reduce the heat, and be on stand by to take the lid off when the mixture is starting to boil over. Let boil covered until the tableas have completely dissolved.
The chocolate mixture is now ready to be beaten. After five to ten minutes of beating, add a cup of milk, then beat again. Adjust sweetness by adding more sugar or water. Beat for about five minutes more, then serve.
Another way of doing it, which is simpler and a sort of short-cut, is letting the chocolate mixture cook completely, adding the milk and letting it boil over once, then beating for about ten minutes over low heat.
Either way, you get a smooth, milky chocolate drink, without the usual grainy/gritty texture. The traditional accompaniment is suman, a roll of glutinous rice cooked in coconut cream and steamed wrapped in coconut or banana leaves.
It is also drunk with pan de sal, the ubiquitous Filipino breakfast roll, with or without filling. A great combination would be a thick slice of kesong puti or kasilyo (the local white cheese made from carabao's milk, similar to buffala or fresh mozzarella), or any other fresh, raw cheese, sandwiched between a sliced pan de sal. If without filling, the pan de sal is nice to dunk into the cup of steaming chocolate before taking a bite.
The chocolate drink can also be had thick, either by reducing the amount of water added, or cooking and beating it longer, until about more than half of the mixture has evaporated. This is also drunk, but more as a dip for crullers. This is called tsokolate eh, for espesso.
The thinner version is called tsokolate ah, for aguado, meaning watered down. The terms came from the Spanish, from whom Filipinos imbibed the chocolate making and drinking culture.
For a time, the thinness and thickness of the chocolate drink served signified which part of the social divide the drinker belonged to. The eh was for the ruling class, the ah for the common, ordinary people. But that period has thankfully long passed, and anybody can now enjoy his or her chocolate any which way. Even just biting into the tsokolate tablea.
But this process of chocolate-making is not exclusive to our own family, nor even to my hometown, nor even to my province. This kind of chocolate can be found all over the country, with a specific culture surrounding it in each region - what is added to it, what form does it take, how it is served (what implements, utensils are used), what is eaten with it, when it is drunk, how else it is cooked, etc.
What is common across ethno-linguisitic cultures, though, is that it is boiled into a hot chocolate drink, and it is also used into the Filipino breakfast comfort food, champurado, consisting of sticky rice cooked in chocolate, like some sort of chocolate porridge. Again there are variations as to how this is eaten, because some add flakes of smoked fish, or salted fish.
In my family we made and drunk, drink, hot chocolate purely and simply, just add sugar, perhaps a cup of milk at the very end of the boiling. The hot chocolate is tangy and gritty, with a thin layer of bronze cocoa oil on the surface of the drink. The kids and I like our hot tsokolate with a generous sprinkling of cinnamon powder.
In other regions, though, as I've mentioned, an entire culture is involved in the drinking. And in several locations, they make use of an implement, called a batidor, or a batirol, or a mollinillo, which is part of a two-tool machinery.
The batidor is a carved wooden tool that is referred to as a chocolate beater. The chocolate drink is put in a special container shaped like a jug with a narrow opening and a bulbous bottom, and swirled and whisked by the beater.
In other regions the chocolate mixture is beaten while it is still merrily boiling in the pot or deep pan. It prevents burning of the chocolate, incorporates the sugar and milk, and helps smoothen the drink.
In both methods, the batirol is placed vertically into the pan or jug (called a chocolatera, but is also called a batirol), the carved bottom submerged in the chocolate mixture, with the handle placed between the palms. The handle is then rolled, each hand alternately pushing and pulling in swift fashion, keeping the batidor within the vicinity of the middle of both palms. I don't know if I'm making sense here, but it is akin to rolling a piece of clay dough between your hands to form a toy snake, or worm, if you prefer.
The rolling - beating - should be fast, to be done in about ten to fifteen minutes, after the chocolate tablets have dissolved and milk and/or sugar has been added (tableas are sold either with or without sugar).
Tableas should be cooked in a deep pan, because the mixture boils over. Ideally, the proportions should be one cup, or less, of water per tablea. I usually take away a cup, to be substituted with the milk later on. The tableas are put in the water and brought to a boil with the lid on. Once the mixture is boiling briskly, reduce the heat, and be on stand by to take the lid off when the mixture is starting to boil over. Let boil covered until the tableas have completely dissolved.
The chocolate mixture is now ready to be beaten. After five to ten minutes of beating, add a cup of milk, then beat again. Adjust sweetness by adding more sugar or water. Beat for about five minutes more, then serve.
Another way of doing it, which is simpler and a sort of short-cut, is letting the chocolate mixture cook completely, adding the milk and letting it boil over once, then beating for about ten minutes over low heat.
Either way, you get a smooth, milky chocolate drink, without the usual grainy/gritty texture. The traditional accompaniment is suman, a roll of glutinous rice cooked in coconut cream and steamed wrapped in coconut or banana leaves.
It is also drunk with pan de sal, the ubiquitous Filipino breakfast roll, with or without filling. A great combination would be a thick slice of kesong puti or kasilyo (the local white cheese made from carabao's milk, similar to buffala or fresh mozzarella), or any other fresh, raw cheese, sandwiched between a sliced pan de sal. If without filling, the pan de sal is nice to dunk into the cup of steaming chocolate before taking a bite.
The chocolate drink can also be had thick, either by reducing the amount of water added, or cooking and beating it longer, until about more than half of the mixture has evaporated. This is also drunk, but more as a dip for crullers. This is called tsokolate eh, for espesso.
The thinner version is called tsokolate ah, for aguado, meaning watered down. The terms came from the Spanish, from whom Filipinos imbibed the chocolate making and drinking culture.
For a time, the thinness and thickness of the chocolate drink served signified which part of the social divide the drinker belonged to. The eh was for the ruling class, the ah for the common, ordinary people. But that period has thankfully long passed, and anybody can now enjoy his or her chocolate any which way. Even just biting into the tsokolate tablea.
~ ~ ~
*Batidors/batirols are sold in stores selling kitchenware, and in the houseware section of most department stores.
Related Posts
Tsokolate
Champurado
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
White Chocolate Mousse
Cake of the Month
As the family marks my third child’s progress onto her first year, I will be celebrating her monthly birth day in this blog by featuring a cake. Lined up for the next twelve months, and hopefully on afterwards, are old-time favorites, reliable standards, as well as new discoveries, as I go on a quest for the best cakes around the country.
I first tasted Gateau de Manille's White Chocolate Mousse while I was in college, courtesy of my then boyfriend (my first, and also my last, "official" one, before the husband), who brought a slice to the university campus. I never forgot its creamy sweetness, a melt-in-your-mouth, snow-white mousse that was like vanilla ice cream but silkier, and with a denser body.
I never had it again, nor ventured to the bakeshop-restaurant for a repeat slice, for various reasons, though it was always at the back of my mind. Various issues occupied me during college, and the boyfriend and I parted ways. There were also a lot of hurdles - it was too far from the university campus where I lived out my four-year tenure, especially for a promdi who had no car (no public utility vehicles ply the area). And, as was true with most of us students back then, I didn't have the budget for it.
My mom taught me never to scrimp on food. But a cake was an indulgence. I lived in a ladies dormitory that provided full board weekdays, and during weekends my meals were mostly provided for during activities of my university organization. Needless to say, I learned, and practiced, thriftiness during my college life.
But a baby is a blessing, and every day she brings joy to the family, so that every month added to her still young life is a blessing worthy of a celebration. So while doing the list for this cake of the month series, that white chocolate mousse was a definite shoo-in.
And I made the trip to White Plains, reliving college life thru the restaurant's food that was the fad in my teens - waldorf salad, roast beef sandwich, teriyaki, chicken galantina.
And the white chocolate mousse was how I remembered it, although it seemed to have impressed upon myself that it was pure white, so I was a bit surprised to find chocolate (the real brown chocolate) shavings and brown cookie crumbles on top of the mousse.
But the lady at the counter said it is still made in the original recipe from when the bakeshop-restaurant opened in 1990, and it still is their bestseller.
Gateau de Manille's White Chocolate Mousse is a thick, 9" frozen pure white mousse with a thin crumbly chocolate brownie as base and top holding up the mousse, covered with a thin white chocolate shell, decorated with whipped cream rosettes, then finished off with grated chocolate (Php515). It also comes in mini size, 7" at Php415, and single serve in a plastic cup for take-out or served on a plate at Php80.
This mousse is unlike typical mousses with a chiffon or cookie base and a whipped cream topping. It is pure white chocolate mousse, through and through, from top to bottom. Every mouthful is creamy, velvety vanilla ice cream bliss. It has to be refrigerated, but it survived travel from Quezon City to Cavite without any damage to its form.
The bakeshop's cakes are mostly mousses or variants of their kind. The double chocolate mousse is white chocolate mousse with the bottom half in chocolate, while the trio has strawberry mousse packed between the white and the brown chocolate. Both are also great, in a play of flavors dual and triple.
The mousse also comes in cappuccino and mango flavors (Php495 each, mini Php415, single serve Php75). There is also sansrival and tiramisu. The only baked cakes are moist chocolate cake, sansrival, apple pie and cheesecakes with blueberry and dulce de leche toppings. Also pastries, like ensaymada (underbaked) and chicken pies.
I never had it again, nor ventured to the bakeshop-restaurant for a repeat slice, for various reasons, though it was always at the back of my mind. Various issues occupied me during college, and the boyfriend and I parted ways. There were also a lot of hurdles - it was too far from the university campus where I lived out my four-year tenure, especially for a promdi who had no car (no public utility vehicles ply the area). And, as was true with most of us students back then, I didn't have the budget for it.
My mom taught me never to scrimp on food. But a cake was an indulgence. I lived in a ladies dormitory that provided full board weekdays, and during weekends my meals were mostly provided for during activities of my university organization. Needless to say, I learned, and practiced, thriftiness during my college life.
But a baby is a blessing, and every day she brings joy to the family, so that every month added to her still young life is a blessing worthy of a celebration. So while doing the list for this cake of the month series, that white chocolate mousse was a definite shoo-in.
And I made the trip to White Plains, reliving college life thru the restaurant's food that was the fad in my teens - waldorf salad, roast beef sandwich, teriyaki, chicken galantina.
And the white chocolate mousse was how I remembered it, although it seemed to have impressed upon myself that it was pure white, so I was a bit surprised to find chocolate (the real brown chocolate) shavings and brown cookie crumbles on top of the mousse.
But the lady at the counter said it is still made in the original recipe from when the bakeshop-restaurant opened in 1990, and it still is their bestseller.
Gateau de Manille's White Chocolate Mousse is a thick, 9" frozen pure white mousse with a thin crumbly chocolate brownie as base and top holding up the mousse, covered with a thin white chocolate shell, decorated with whipped cream rosettes, then finished off with grated chocolate (Php515). It also comes in mini size, 7" at Php415, and single serve in a plastic cup for take-out or served on a plate at Php80.
This mousse is unlike typical mousses with a chiffon or cookie base and a whipped cream topping. It is pure white chocolate mousse, through and through, from top to bottom. Every mouthful is creamy, velvety vanilla ice cream bliss. It has to be refrigerated, but it survived travel from Quezon City to Cavite without any damage to its form.
The bakeshop's cakes are mostly mousses or variants of their kind. The double chocolate mousse is white chocolate mousse with the bottom half in chocolate, while the trio has strawberry mousse packed between the white and the brown chocolate. Both are also great, in a play of flavors dual and triple.
The mousse also comes in cappuccino and mango flavors (Php495 each, mini Php415, single serve Php75). There is also sansrival and tiramisu. The only baked cakes are moist chocolate cake, sansrival, apple pie and cheesecakes with blueberry and dulce de leche toppings. Also pastries, like ensaymada (underbaked) and chicken pies.
Gateau de Manille
117 Katipunan Road, St. Ignatius Village
Quezon City, Metro Manila
Tel. No. (632) 911-6547
Open daily 9AM-9PM
Also does catering services
From EDSA north-bound lane, turn right onto Santolan Road, driving across the entire length of the side of Camp Aguinaldo. Turn right at Katipunan Road, and it is on the right side just several houses away from the intersection, just about across the gate to St. Ignatius Village.
Cakes of the Month
Divine Chocolate Cake, by Divine Sweets (Puerto Princesa, Palawan)
Cakelines, by Jon-Rhiz (Cavite City)
Dayap Chiffon Cake, by Kiss Cafe (UP Diliman, Quezon City)
Belgian Chocolate Cake, by a La Creme (City of San Fernando, Pampanga)
Mango Cake, by Red Ribbon (with various locations across the country)
Ube Cake, by Goodies N' Sweets (several locations across Metro Manila)
Mango Charlotte, by Sweet Bella (Dasmarinas Village, Makati City)
Strawberry Shortcake by Vizco's (Baguio City)
Almond Chocolate Fudge Cake by Malen's (Noveleta, Cavite)
Caramel Cake by Estrel's (Quezon City)
Marshmallow Birthday Cake by Estrel's (Quezon City)
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Belgian Chocolate Cake
[Sinful Chocolate Cake]
Cake of the Month
As the family marks my third child’s progress onto her first year, I will be celebrating her monthly birth day in this blog by featuring a cake. Lined up for the next twelve months, and hopefully on afterwards, are old-time favorites, reliable standards, as well as new discoveries, as I go on a quest for the best cakes around the country.
A La Creme, or Cil's a La Creme Cakes, Crepes, Coffee, by Cecille Marie R. Bansil, is a cakeshop cum cafe and dessert place in San Fernando City, Pampanga, and second of the four recommended food places during my one-day trip to the city.
It is one of those food places in the provinces which has been known to my office colleagues for quite some time, from pasalubong of their counterparts in the provincial branches of the agency I work for.
It is an ingrained Filipino custom to bring food whenever you meet acquaintances, and we are the luckier for it. Branch officemates often request Krispy Kreme, which has so far opened outlets in Metro Manila only, but when it is their turn to visit (officially, of course), we receive a plethora of treats from the Philippines' 7,000 islands.
Aside from tibok-tibok, our colleagues in San Fernando City frequently bring the Sinful Chocolate Cake from a La Creme. Those dealing with branch people rave about it, saying nothing quite like this cake can be found around Metro Manila.
The cake doesn't usually last long enough to reach me, so its sinfullness had all just been hearsay. But after spending about a thousand pesos on tibok-tibok, mochi, and palabok at Susie's (from there the volume of food I took home could be guessed, since these native delicacies are quite cheap), I made a La Creme my second stop-over. Luckily, the two outlets are just about a block away from each other.
I asked the person manning the counter what the bestseller is (I don't know if this practice is right?), and she confirmed that it is the Sinful Chocolate Cake (whole cake about Php790, mini Php440, slice Php79).
Despite my aversion to chocolate cakes (make that bad chocolate cakes), I had to sample it.
It is actually a chocolate mousse, interspersed with very thin, crunchy walnut-brownie layers, and set in shape by thin chocolate shards, each branded with the cakeshop's name, then finished off with a red ribbon. A slice is served with chocolate fudge sauce.
And sinful it truly is, literally - it was so sinfully sweet that after the first bite I could feel each and every, single, cell of my body perk up then go into hyperglycemic attack.
Probably because of that sugar overload, the mousse is very, very chewy - gooey - not your usual mousse with ice cream consistency. This, is full, 200% fat creamy mousse, and 500% sugar. I couldn't take a second bite, for deathly fear of becoming faint from my blood glucose shooting up.
But I had to find a redeeming value. I was in San Fernando for only a day, and I was determined to make the most of it, not caring if I become more sinful.
My salvation came with this solid brick of a cake, the second bestseller (see? I thought that practice of going along with the flow and joining the bandwagon wasn't good at all!). This, is the Belgian Chocolate Cake (about the same price as the Sinful). It was so dim inside the cafe that I couldn't take a proper photo - but it is quite obvious that this is one whole dense mass of a chocolate cake.
It is chocolate pound cake spread with a thin chocolate ganache and decorated with chocolate discs dotted with chopped nuts on top. It is so dense a needle wouldn't have gone through. It is so dark it is almost pure, 100%, chocolate. So silky and rich, and black as death.
And this time, as if somehow making up for the sugar overload of the Sinful, this Belgian is almost sugar-free. The dark chocolate is so overpowering the sugar was reduced to a hint. It screams CHO!--CO!--LATE!
Black is beautiful. And delicious, too. Delicious. Have I said delicious?
Delicious.
Now I know the best chocolate cakes are outside of Metro Manila.
It is one of those food places in the provinces which has been known to my office colleagues for quite some time, from pasalubong of their counterparts in the provincial branches of the agency I work for.
It is an ingrained Filipino custom to bring food whenever you meet acquaintances, and we are the luckier for it. Branch officemates often request Krispy Kreme, which has so far opened outlets in Metro Manila only, but when it is their turn to visit (officially, of course), we receive a plethora of treats from the Philippines' 7,000 islands.
Aside from tibok-tibok, our colleagues in San Fernando City frequently bring the Sinful Chocolate Cake from a La Creme. Those dealing with branch people rave about it, saying nothing quite like this cake can be found around Metro Manila.
The cake doesn't usually last long enough to reach me, so its sinfullness had all just been hearsay. But after spending about a thousand pesos on tibok-tibok, mochi, and palabok at Susie's (from there the volume of food I took home could be guessed, since these native delicacies are quite cheap), I made a La Creme my second stop-over. Luckily, the two outlets are just about a block away from each other.
I asked the person manning the counter what the bestseller is (I don't know if this practice is right?), and she confirmed that it is the Sinful Chocolate Cake (whole cake about Php790, mini Php440, slice Php79).
Despite my aversion to chocolate cakes (make that bad chocolate cakes), I had to sample it.
It is actually a chocolate mousse, interspersed with very thin, crunchy walnut-brownie layers, and set in shape by thin chocolate shards, each branded with the cakeshop's name, then finished off with a red ribbon. A slice is served with chocolate fudge sauce.
And sinful it truly is, literally - it was so sinfully sweet that after the first bite I could feel each and every, single, cell of my body perk up then go into hyperglycemic attack.
Probably because of that sugar overload, the mousse is very, very chewy - gooey - not your usual mousse with ice cream consistency. This, is full, 200% fat creamy mousse, and 500% sugar. I couldn't take a second bite, for deathly fear of becoming faint from my blood glucose shooting up.
But I had to find a redeeming value. I was in San Fernando for only a day, and I was determined to make the most of it, not caring if I become more sinful.
My salvation came with this solid brick of a cake, the second bestseller (see? I thought that practice of going along with the flow and joining the bandwagon wasn't good at all!). This, is the Belgian Chocolate Cake (about the same price as the Sinful). It was so dim inside the cafe that I couldn't take a proper photo - but it is quite obvious that this is one whole dense mass of a chocolate cake.
It is chocolate pound cake spread with a thin chocolate ganache and decorated with chocolate discs dotted with chopped nuts on top. It is so dense a needle wouldn't have gone through. It is so dark it is almost pure, 100%, chocolate. So silky and rich, and black as death.
And this time, as if somehow making up for the sugar overload of the Sinful, this Belgian is almost sugar-free. The dark chocolate is so overpowering the sugar was reduced to a hint. It screams CHO!--CO!--LATE!
Black is beautiful. And delicious, too. Delicious. Have I said delicious?
Delicious.
Now I know the best chocolate cakes are outside of Metro Manila.
a La Creme
MacArthur Highway, Dolores
City of San Fernando, Pampanga
The first food outlet I went to in San Fernando City, Pampanga
Susie's Cuisine
Cakes of the Month
Divine Chocolate Cake, by Divine Sweets (Puerto Princesa, Palawan)
Cakelines, by Jon-Rhiz (Cavite City)
Dayap Chiffon Cake, by Kiss Cafe (UP Diliman, Quezon City)
White Chocolate Mousse, by Gateau de Manille (Katipunan Road, Quezon City)
Mango Cake, by Red Ribbon (with branches nationwide)
Ube Cake, by Goodies N' Sweets (several locations across Metro Manila)
Mango Charlotte, by Sweet Bella (Dasmarinas Village, Makati City)
Strawberry Shortcake by Vizco's (Baguio City)
Almond Chocolate Fudge Cake by Malen's (Noveleta, Cavite)
Caramel Cake by Estrel's (Quezon City)
Marshmallow Birthday Cake by Estrel's (Quezon City)
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Cake of the Month: Divine Chocolate Cake
Cake of the Month
As the family marks my third child’s progress onto her first year, I will be celebrating her monthly birth day in this blog by featuring a cake. Lined up for the next twelve months, and hopefully on afterwards, are old-time favorites, reliable standards, as well as new discoveries, as I go on a quest for the best cakes around.
I feel it is not quite right to be starting this series with a chocolate cake (and down the line there are several more!), because I have several biases against chocolate cakes. Despite being a chocolate fiend, I am not much enamored with chocolate that has been turned into a cake.
A couple of reasons I can cite for this - I like eating chocolate as chocolate, or drinking liquid chocolate as liquid chocolate - in its true form. I don't even like chocolate ice cream very much, and I hate chocolate fudge in a sundae.
And, well, I have eaten lots and lots of bad, as in really baaaad, chocolate cakes - parchingly dry, sickeningly sweet, tastes of fake vanilla flavoring that I suspect it's full of brown food coloring - that I have decided chocolate is not for cakes, or cakes should not be chocolate.
I also grew up associating cakes with the nice, girly things, and because of that cakes should be white for me, not dark.
But why am I featuring a chocolate cake?
First of all, the family found itself whisked all of a sudden to Puerto Princesa, the country's cleanest and greenest city at the southeastern portion of the province of Palawan, which is in southwestern Philippines (by the way, if you haven't noticed my campaign in the side bar, please go there before continuing to read this - the Philippines has THREE nominated spots to the New 7 Wonders of Nature, two of them in Palawan, and we need you to vote!).
Our stay in Puerto Princesa extended to more than two weeks. My infant daughter marked her birth day in the month of April there, so I had to source a local cake.
Though I had been to Palawan many times, it was only my second visit to Puerto Princesa. Needless to say, I didn't know the city well, much less was intimate with its cakes. But I welcomed the chance (embraced it, actually) to try a Puerto Princesa cake.
Consultations with Palaweňo friends and acquaintances yielded only one recommendation: Divine Sweets Cakes and Pastries. Not one of Manila's cake chains is present (I would not have bought from them, anyway), which is a good thing for me, as the local foodscape is preserved (no Manila restaurants, too).
And lo and behold, the Divine Sweets staff had only one recommendation as well, when I asked what they would offer an out-of-towner who wanted to taste the best cake Puerto Princesa has.
Yes, you guessed it right, it's a chocolate cake. And a chocolate cake Divine Sweets is so proud of that it carries the cakeshop's name. They carry two chocolate cakes - a Moist Chocolate Cake, and the Divine Chocolate Cake - but the staff was quick to point out that Divine is moister than the Moist, and is no ordinary cake. One staff said the Moist is chocolate cake, while the Divine is heavy cake (whatever that means).
I didn't have a choice - I didn't know any other cakeshop around. So I carted off the heavy cake. It was actually heavy, literally. When it was handed to me I went like those barkada in the overloaded pizza commercial - its heaviness made my hand extend out down to the floor that I almost dropped it. Maybe that was what the waitress meant.
The family tagged along to Puerto Princesa with a unit of my husband's agency, and the entire outfit consisted of twelve males. With me, my kids' nanny, and the mother of my husband's colleague who also tagged along - all in all there were fifteen adults, majority of them males, and two kids, to share the cake.
The cake was a measly 10x10x3 (Php650, junior size round Php330, slice Php60) - bigger sizes had to be pre-ordered two days before, and I was buying on the day of the party. So I worried that it was not enough for everybody, especially given my husband's penchant for inviting everybody else in the neighborhood, or whoever happens to be in the neighborhood.
The Divine Sweets staff assured me the cake was enough, to which I raised my eyebrows in disbelief. I just silently prayed that men didn't like chocolate cakes.
It turns out they did. They even had second helpings.
The cake lasted for two days. Not because it wasn't good that we couldn't finish it. It was divine, and we licked the ganache smeared on the cake board. It was so heavy - heavily chocolatey - and so rich that we only had to cut small square slices for each. But it was so good that in no time at all everybody was cutting another slice. And the following day all that was in everybody's minds was to have another cut.
Divine Chocolate Cake is a two-layered chocolate cake with caramel filling in between, enveloped in a dark chocolate ganache and embellished with shards of white chocolate-marbled chocolate thins. It is more chocolate than cake that it is almost like biting into a dark chocolate bar. Yet the crumb is surprisingly soft, spongy, springy. But it is so dark, the sweetness just a whisper.
This cake, for me, puts the rest of all chocolate cakes to shame. No scrimping - that's so apparent - using the finest ingredients, and made lovingly. It's moister than moist, heavier than heavy. It deserves its divine name.
If only I hadn't already bought ten rainmakers and twelve kilos' worth of fresh pelagic fish that made the husband's eyebrows turn into one bushy straight line, I would have bought another cake - make it two - to bring back home to savor. I'm seriously considering buying a franchise to put up a branch in Cavite City, so I could have a taste of divinity anytime.
So why don't I like chocolate cakes?
A couple of reasons I can cite for this - I like eating chocolate as chocolate, or drinking liquid chocolate as liquid chocolate - in its true form. I don't even like chocolate ice cream very much, and I hate chocolate fudge in a sundae.
And, well, I have eaten lots and lots of bad, as in really baaaad, chocolate cakes - parchingly dry, sickeningly sweet, tastes of fake vanilla flavoring that I suspect it's full of brown food coloring - that I have decided chocolate is not for cakes, or cakes should not be chocolate.
I also grew up associating cakes with the nice, girly things, and because of that cakes should be white for me, not dark.
But why am I featuring a chocolate cake?
First of all, the family found itself whisked all of a sudden to Puerto Princesa, the country's cleanest and greenest city at the southeastern portion of the province of Palawan, which is in southwestern Philippines (by the way, if you haven't noticed my campaign in the side bar, please go there before continuing to read this - the Philippines has THREE nominated spots to the New 7 Wonders of Nature, two of them in Palawan, and we need you to vote!).
Our stay in Puerto Princesa extended to more than two weeks. My infant daughter marked her birth day in the month of April there, so I had to source a local cake.
Though I had been to Palawan many times, it was only my second visit to Puerto Princesa. Needless to say, I didn't know the city well, much less was intimate with its cakes. But I welcomed the chance (embraced it, actually) to try a Puerto Princesa cake.
Consultations with Palaweňo friends and acquaintances yielded only one recommendation: Divine Sweets Cakes and Pastries. Not one of Manila's cake chains is present (I would not have bought from them, anyway), which is a good thing for me, as the local foodscape is preserved (no Manila restaurants, too).
And lo and behold, the Divine Sweets staff had only one recommendation as well, when I asked what they would offer an out-of-towner who wanted to taste the best cake Puerto Princesa has.
Yes, you guessed it right, it's a chocolate cake. And a chocolate cake Divine Sweets is so proud of that it carries the cakeshop's name. They carry two chocolate cakes - a Moist Chocolate Cake, and the Divine Chocolate Cake - but the staff was quick to point out that Divine is moister than the Moist, and is no ordinary cake. One staff said the Moist is chocolate cake, while the Divine is heavy cake (whatever that means).
I didn't have a choice - I didn't know any other cakeshop around. So I carted off the heavy cake. It was actually heavy, literally. When it was handed to me I went like those barkada in the overloaded pizza commercial - its heaviness made my hand extend out down to the floor that I almost dropped it. Maybe that was what the waitress meant.
The family tagged along to Puerto Princesa with a unit of my husband's agency, and the entire outfit consisted of twelve males. With me, my kids' nanny, and the mother of my husband's colleague who also tagged along - all in all there were fifteen adults, majority of them males, and two kids, to share the cake.
The cake was a measly 10x10x3 (Php650, junior size round Php330, slice Php60) - bigger sizes had to be pre-ordered two days before, and I was buying on the day of the party. So I worried that it was not enough for everybody, especially given my husband's penchant for inviting everybody else in the neighborhood, or whoever happens to be in the neighborhood.
The Divine Sweets staff assured me the cake was enough, to which I raised my eyebrows in disbelief. I just silently prayed that men didn't like chocolate cakes.
It turns out they did. They even had second helpings.
The cake lasted for two days. Not because it wasn't good that we couldn't finish it. It was divine, and we licked the ganache smeared on the cake board. It was so heavy - heavily chocolatey - and so rich that we only had to cut small square slices for each. But it was so good that in no time at all everybody was cutting another slice. And the following day all that was in everybody's minds was to have another cut.
Divine Chocolate Cake is a two-layered chocolate cake with caramel filling in between, enveloped in a dark chocolate ganache and embellished with shards of white chocolate-marbled chocolate thins. It is more chocolate than cake that it is almost like biting into a dark chocolate bar. Yet the crumb is surprisingly soft, spongy, springy. But it is so dark, the sweetness just a whisper.
This cake, for me, puts the rest of all chocolate cakes to shame. No scrimping - that's so apparent - using the finest ingredients, and made lovingly. It's moister than moist, heavier than heavy. It deserves its divine name.
If only I hadn't already bought ten rainmakers and twelve kilos' worth of fresh pelagic fish that made the husband's eyebrows turn into one bushy straight line, I would have bought another cake - make it two - to bring back home to savor. I'm seriously considering buying a franchise to put up a branch in Cavite City, so I could have a taste of divinity anytime.
So why don't I like chocolate cakes?
*The tiramisu is also great!
Divine Sweets Cakes and Pastries
Valencia Street, Puerto Princesa City
(right behind Mendez Park, and beside the Dockers/Adidas/Levi's/Bench/Human group of stores at the corner of Valencia Street and Rizal Avenue)
Cakes of the Month
Cakelines by Jon-Rhiz (Cavite City, Cavite)
Dayap Chiffon Cake by Chocolate Kiss (UP Diliman, Quezon City)
Belgian Chocolate Cake, by a La Creme (San Fernando City, Pampanga)
White Chocolate Mousse, by Gateau de Manille (Katipunan Road, Quezon City)
Mango Cake, by Red Ribbon (with branches nationwide)
Ube Cake, by Goodies N' Sweets (several locations across Metro Manila)
Mango Charlotte, by Sweet Bella (Dasmarinas Village, Makati City)
Strawberry Shortcake by Vizco's (Baguio City)
Almond Chocolate Fudge Cake by Malen's (Noveleta, Cavite)
Caramel Cake by Estrel's (Quezon City)
Marshmallow Birthday Cake by Estrel's (Quezon City)
Other Finds in Puerto Princesa
Sea Urchins
Seashells
Fresh Fish
Daing na Tahong
Puerto Princesa Restaurants
Bona's Chao Long
Balinsasayaw Inato and Grill
Kalui
Baker's Hill
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