rosemary tarragon panna cotta with roasted plums

Sorry that my posting has been mildly vigorous and my time visiting around the blogosphere has been terribly minimal. The reason is, of course, busyness and general feeling-terribly-distractedness. This, while I’ve also been doing a fair amount of posting in order to try to finish up my queue of summer posts before winter sets in. Though I expect I can wait until the next summer.

Now, this is one of my favourite things I’ve posted.

I find that rosemary/tarragon = a very good combination. (Potential shipping names include roseagon and tarramary.) While the liquorice taste of the tarragon brightens, rosemary deepens, and the whole thing is very soft and not too assertive when infused into awful quantities of heavy cream.

These are quite rich. In the future I would use a higher proportion of milk–a bit of cream can go a long ways. Luckily, the roasted plums provide sorely needed acidity.

I didn’t end up with a nice smooth surface on the set panna cotta–there were spots of condensation that dripped down from a tent of plastic wrap, and a skin that formed and split (any advice on how to reduce these issues?). If these were being unmoulded, it wouldn’t matter, however the tea cup presentation posed some issues, though at least it could be covered up with plums.rosemary tarragon panna cotta with roasted plums

Makes 4 generous and rich servings. Panna cotta recipe slightly adapted from epicurious. To account for the intensity of the herbs, I used a few more sprigs tarragon than rosemary. You can give it a try after infusing and then if one herb needs to be boosted a bit more than the other, remove one set of sprigs and infuse for additional time with the other.

panna cotta

1 c heavy cream

1/2 c milk

1 sprig rosemary

3 sprigs tarragon

1 1/2 tsp powdered gelatin (1/2 packet)

2 tbsp cold water

5 tsp sugar

roasted plums

small plums

olive oil

honey

Warm up the milk and cream in a saucepan until steaming. Add the herbs, cover and let steep 20 minutes.

Sprinkle the gelatin over the cold water and allow to sit and bloom. Heat for 10-15 seconds in the microwave to dissolve.

Remove the herbs from the cream, add the sugar, and bring the cream just to a boil. Combine with the gelatin, transfer to a liquid measuring cup for ease of pouring, and distribute into 4 tea cups or ramekins (a bit less than 1/2 c in each). If they are in tea cups, and thus are not being unmoulded, scoop any bubbles from the surface with a small spoon. Place the tea cups in a loaf pan to prevent tipping over, cover with plastic wrap, and chill for at least three hours to set.

For the plums, preheat the oven to 400F. Slice the plums in half and drizzle with a tiny bit of olive oil and a few drops of honey. Roast for around 20 minutes or until juicy and soft. The plums can be turned over gently partway through roasting. Serve plums and any roasting juice with the panna cotta.

mont blanc macarons

We had a club executive meeting before the semester began and realized two things:

1. Total club assets = $6 (Canadian, so even worse than you think)
2. Apart from our exec team, we have no continuing members

The solution? Well, to #1 at least: a bake sale ASAP.I figured that I had better practice…or rather, figure out whether macarons would be feasible for me to attempt for the bake sale. Last time I made macarons, I based it off of Lili’s Italian meringue method. This time I was hoping to make the quicker French meringue method work for me. I used Philip’s French meringue macaron page as a guide–it is fabulously comprehensive and replete with troubleshooters and tips.

There are, in particular, two clever recommendations from Philip’s page that I think can be carried to any macaron methodology or recipe that you prefer. First, work with ratios, basing the mass of your ingredients on the mass of your egg whites. It is so much easier, and I enjoy the flexibility. Second, grind together and sieve the almonds and powdered sugar in a large batch ahead of time, thus having enough for a few batches of macarons. This whole grinding and sifting thing is quite frankly why I really never make macarons, because it is so very tedious. Now that I have a plastic tub of preground nuts and sugar in the cupboard, I’m already thinking about future batches.The macarons are based on Mont Blanc, a cake with plenty of chestnut and cream. I whisked a bit of chestnut flour into the shells–I think the taste was barely perceptible when the shells were eaten on their own, and unnoticeable with the filling. It may have slightly, slightly tinted the shells and provided some darker speckles, but for the most part it was inconsequential.

The filling was very quick and easy–a ring of sweetened chestnut puree and some whipped cream in the centre.The smaller macarons didn’t have enough room for the whipped cream, and so were just filled with chestnut puree. I valiantly tried to skip passing the chestnut puree through a sieve, but couldn’t even pipe one macaron without clogging the piping tip, so unfortunately a second round of sieving is required for these macarons. So, I do think macarons will work for the bake sale (they will probably be a flavour more marketable than chestnut though). I’ll need to improve my piping though–I sort of gave up trying to pipe them all the same size, and so you can see quite the variety. I put together a template for next time to try slipping under the parchment.

I also think I may have beat my egg whites a bit too much–closer to firm peaks than soft (I occasionally need to be reminded that more voluminous is not always better–this is a helpful visual guide for egg whites). I think this might have been the cause of the air bubbles I had in the shells–they were quite noticeable right after the shells had been piped. That being said, while some bubbles expanded with baking to create the odd errant bump (they’re quite noticeable in the overhead photo above), it didn’t turn out as bad as I feared–for the most part the shells looked relatively presentable.

And a question: what other baked goods are good for bake sales? (In the first place, are macarons a good idea?) I think the important criteria are: nothing immediately perishable, easy to transport and sell individually. Now that I think about it, might be nice if they were quick and easy to make as well…mont blanc macarons

macaron shells

Based on the excellent French meringue macaron guide from Philip of Baking Fanatic. 

108 g powdered sugar

108 g ground almond

87 g egg white (2 and a bit)

87 g granulated sugar

8 g chestnut flour

For a more fleshed out procedure and helpful tips, see the guide linked above.

Line a couple baking pans with parchment paper.

Combine the powdered sugar and almonds in a food processor and process–we want the almonds to be quite fine. Sift through a fine sieve into a large bowl.

Whip the egg whites until frothy, then add the sugar and continue to beat until they form soft peaks when the whisk is lifted up. Use a rubber spatula to transfer the egg whites to the dry ingredients. Fold together in a figure-8 manner using a rubber spatula. Continue folding until the batter becomes looser and shinier, and ribbons of batter will sink into the surface within 30 seconds.

Transfer to a piping bag fitted with a decently sized plain tip, and pipe the macarons. Allow to sit and dry until they form a slight skin–the macaron shells will not be sticky when you touch them.

While the shells dry, preheat the oven to 300F.

Bake the shells for 13-16 minutes, turning the trays at 6 minutes. Check the macarons if they are done by lightly trying to lift them. The macarons should hold together. Allow to cool before removing from the parchment paper.

Pair each macaron with one of a similar size.

 

to fill

250 g chestnut puree

50 g butter

40 g granulated sugar

spiced rum, to taste (a few capfuls or so)

100 mL heavy cream, whipped

Press the chestnut puree through a fine sieve. Beat with the butter, sugar and rum. Transfer to a piping bag fitted with a Mont Blanc multi tip. Pipe a ring of chestnut puree around the edge of one macaron shell in each pair, going around each shell twice (to build up a nice amount of chestnut puree). Dollop a small amount of whipped cream in the centre. You can gently cave in the top macaron shell to accommodate any excess whipped cream before placing it on top of the filling. Refrigerate for a few hours or overnight.

Due to the moisture of the whipped cream, by the second night the macarons became a bit too soft, but still held together. By the third night, they were mush!

lemon, lavender and blueberry buns

Baking in time for breakfast typically does not pan out for me. Even on the weekends, when it isn’t so much an issue of time, I’m not patient enough and I end up eating a typical quick breakfast before any baking can get underway. Or sometimes I will hold out until something is in the oven–and then give in and eat while it is baking.

In particular, yeasted things, and in particular, yeasted sourdough things, are at best a brunch not a breakfast item. Which is perfectly fine–as long as you have a chance sometime during the day, that is about all that matters.

These buns are quite refreshing and extravagantly jammy with warm blueberries. The dough was not as soft and fluffy as I would have wished, and I found that I never quite managed to bake the bottom of the buns sufficiently to get a nice browning (if you can, remove from the parchment and let them cool on a wire rack to avoid mushiness). Still, a bake with fruit and fresh bread can’t go that wrong. If you must, they will even do for lunch. lemon, lavender and blueberry buns

remaining 1/2 recipe dough from here 

butter

sugar

~ 1 tsp dried lavender flowers

zest of 1 lemon

blueberries

Roll out the dough into a large rectangle, around 1 to 1.5 cm thick. Spread with a thin layer of softened butter, sprinkle with sugar, crumbled dried lavender, lemon zest and a generous quantity of blueberries.

Slice into eight rolls and space apart evenly in a buttered 8 1/2″ diameter springform pan. Let rise until puffed and they fill the pan.

Preheat the oven to 400F. Bake for around 30 minutes or until nicely golden.

apricot, cinnamon and orange blossom yeasted tart

As I am spectacularly lazy, I leave you with a few songs instead of a proper blog post:

playlist for today (summer)

1. the sporting life (the decemberists)

2. god help the girl (god help the girl soundtrack)

3. pulaski heights (venice is sinking)

4. the predatory wasp of the palisades is out to get us! (sufjan stevens)

5. one summer’s day (tonari no totoro soundtrack)

I think I pay a great deal of attention to the seasons…this attention entails romanticizing the individual character of each, and hence I end up with seasonal playlists. Well, this attention to the season comes with the territory (the food territory, that is): the seasons shape what we can eat and what we like to eat.

That being said, as much as a I like to say now: it’s summer! and now: summer is finishing!, where I live the weather will happily do whatever it likes. The seasons are not nearly as consistent and well-characterized as I like to portray them. It will snow early in summer and be warm in late fall. But regardless, the beets have grown, the apples are becoming cheaper, and soon we’ll be pulling up potatoes and onions.

None of which are related to this tart. Having previously found great success with this soft bread recipe, I decided to give it a go in sourdough. Success in the form of fluffy bread seemed a bit more feasible given the recently revived activity of my sourdough starter.

Day one, freshly baked, I quite liked it. Just golden warm and eggy custard, fluffy! bread, soft-cooked apricots. Day two, the bread became stale, and the apricots became mush. The conclusion to take from this is probably something along the lines of don’t make too much, or you will have a lot of leftover tart to deal with. (Warming it up again in the oven did help though).

I was also not convinced by my use of orange blossom water. I think the problem was the starchiness of the custard, because otherwise the combination of orange blossom water and apricot and cinnamon sounds as though it should be at least alright if not rather nice.I am bringing this tart with me to Fiesta Friday, hosted by Angie and Judi of Cooking with Aunt Juju.

apricot, cinnamon and orange blossom yeasted tart

Makes 3 tarts, 6-7″ in diameter. (i.e. makes way too much). The procedural details of this are adapted from the brioche tart in Baking with Julia edited by Dorie Greenspan. 

dough

Adapted from my previous adaptation of this recipe. Use only half the dough for this and the other half will be showing up on the blog soon. 

250 mL warm milk

2 tsp vanilla extract

~500 g flour, or as needed

120 g Kamut

5 g wheat gluten

1/2 tsp salt

2 eggs

100 g lively sourdough starter

75 g soft butter

custard

100 mL milk

100 mL heavy cream

cinnamon stick

15 g cornstarch

1 egg

15 g sugar + extra

1 1/2 tsp orange blossom water, or better, to taste

50 g creme fraiche

assemble

apricots, sliced

beaten egg

Mix together milk and vanilla. Separately, whisk together 150 g of the flour, the Kamut, wheat gluten and salt. With a wooden spoon, beat together the sourdough starter, flour mixture, milk and eggs until it forms a thick batter. Beat in the butter, small piece by small piece. Continue mixing, adding flour as needed until it forms a dough that is soft and on the sticky end of tacky.

Set in a bowl, cover and let rest for 15 minutes, give a few folds, then proof completely until doubled.

For the custard, warm the milk and heavy cream until scalding. Add the cinnamon stick, cover, and let infuse for 15-20 minutes. Meanwhile, whisk together the egg, cornstarch and sugar until smooth. Remove the cinnamon stick, rewarm the milk until steaming, and gradually whisk into the egg mixture. Return to the stovetop and cook, whisking constantly, until thickened. Remove from the heat. Once it has cooled, whisk in the creme fraiche and orange blossom water.

Divide the dough into half and set one half aside. Divide the remaining half into three pieces. Roll each out into a large circle, a couple inches wider in diameter than the ring that you are using. Crimp the edges to form a taller crust along the sides and drop into the ring. Let proof until puffy and nearly doubled.

Preheat the oven to 375F.

Dimple the bottom gently. Spread the bottom of each tart with the custard and top with slices of apricot. Brush the edges with beaten egg. Once the breads are in the oven, turn the temperature down to 350F. Bake until the edges are a deep golden brown, and the bottoms of the tarts have browned as well.  Let cool on a wire rack, but serve still somewhat warm.

 

matcha apricot cakes with kinako buttercream

I’ve never really dared make a cake with the “reverse creaming” technique. It’s what I’ve read about in nearly all of Rose Levy Beranbaum’s recipes from The Cake Bible–take the butter, and cream it with the flour first. She explains it, and it seems to make sense conceptually–the butter prevents gluten development to keep your cakes soft. I’ve seen it first hand when making enriched bread doughs where a tighter crumb is often the result. Brioche is careful to avoid this as much as possible by developing the gluten first before beating in the butter.

So it makes sense, but it’s just not the way cakes are done. Butter should be creamed with the sugar and then the eggs first, right? Only mix in the flour near the end. I decided to be irrationally resistant to any of Rose Levy Beranbaum’s elegantly put logic. Nope. Not trying.

Then I saw a reverse creaming technique cake on The Domestic Gothess. It took seeing a trustworthy blog to pave the way to reducing and overcoming my prejudice, and finally give it a try.

So I did. I was sure the cake batter going in would emerge as biscuits.

The result?

The cake, and it was indubitably a cake, was very soft. “Downy” was a perfect description. It was a texture that I normally don’t achieve. Though many of my cakes live quite happily as the dense and buttery and slightly crumbly sort, this is the sort of cake you sometimes need.

So if I can go against the instincts bred into the very fibre of my being by my early years of making cakes solely from How to Cook Everything, I’m confident that an open mind can carry anyone a bit further. Sometimes that irrational nudge of yours isn’t required, and if you listen to the people around you, think of everything that we can learn.

There is one more thing to comment on in this post: the kinako icing. I used the roasted soybean flour as a stand in for icing sugar in an American-style buttercream (the first American style buttercream on the blog! It’s been a few years since the last time I made one). The icing has all the richness and butteriness and (meringue-less) convenience of an American-style buttercream, without the jarring sweetness. Unfortunately it also has an enhanced starchy taste, but given the reduced sweetness, I decided to take it.matcha apricot cakes with kinako buttercream

I did put 3/4 tsp vanilla extract into the icing, but afterwards regretted it. It didn’t quite work–all I tasted was a bit of alcohol, so leave that out. The cake is adapted from Rose Levy Beranbaum’s All-Occasion Downy Yellow Cake in The Cake Bible. 

cake

1 3/4 tsp matcha

2 tsp boiling water

1 large egg + 1 yolk

120 g milk, divided

50 g whole wheat flour

90 g a.p. flour

10 g cornstarch

75 g granulated sugar

9 g baking powder

2 g salt

85 g butter

3-4 apricots, sliced

icing

3 tbsp butter

40 g kinako

2 1/2 tbsp milk

30 g icing sugar

Preheat the oven to 350F. Butter some variously sized cake rings, or just 1 8-9″ diametre cake ring and set on a parchment lined tray.

To avoid lumps, whisk together the matcha and boiling water until smooth. Set aside.

Mix together the eggs and 30 g of the milk. Set aside.

Whisk the flours, starch, sugar, baking powder, and salt. Add the butter and remaining 90 g milk to the bowl and beat with a wooden spoon until a smooth batter forms. Beat a little while longer–Beranbaum says to do this to ensure aeration and structural integrity of your finished cake.

Mix the matcha into the batter, then the milk and mix. Divide amongst the cake rings. Slice the apricots and arrange on top. Bake for around 20 minutes.

For the icing, cream all the ingredients together until light. Add more milk or icing sugar/kinako as needed until it reaches your desired consistency. The kinako has a great deal of starchy strength so it thickens quite well. Keep the icing on the looser side though, because too much kinako and it becomes thick and gluey like peanut butter.

my sourdough starter is alive! (chive and wholewheat sourdough & 3 tartines)

I went hiking the other day and realized something, once I managed to move my thoughts beyond the majestic views and cute opportunistic fungi.

Though, rather than realizing, I confirmed something: I’m not very fit. Unfortunately. Or at least two hikes in two subsequent days is a bit much for me.But somehow, even when I’m sore and probably a bit more tired than someone ought to be after a well-paced, slightly inclined and bumpy walk, I love hiking (the very tame sort of hiking, that is). I especially love it when there’s a destination at the end. It doesn’t have to be spectacular–and often plenty of the spectacular comes during the hike itself–but I love how you spend so long to get there, and when you finally arrive, half of the fun is just the feeling of accomplishment. Then you take a rest, get up, and head back.

(It’s even better when the return is mostly downhill.)As I’ve mentioned before, Bartholomew, the sourdough starter, does tend to be neglected. He was recently revived! And has since languished in neglect once more. But not before he made a lovely, if modestly dense and unexciting, whole wheat bread.The tartines make things a bit more exciting. My favourite was apricots and nasturtium leaves (which we’ve been growing aplenty as opposed to nasturtium flowers), a spot of honey, toasted walnuts and a generous pinch of salt–for me, the combination of sweetness and saltiness always wins. Like radishes and butter, the nasturtium leaves are a bit spicy, giving them the same sort of lovely combination with something rich; arugula would otherwise do the trick. 

chive and whole wheat sourdough

essentially as per usual, except use all whole wheat bread flour(!) and mix in one very large bunch of finely chopped chives. adjust hydration as necessary.

tartines

radish and butter

butter

sliced radishes

dill

salt

mushroom and tarragon

leftover cooked and seasoned mushrooms (such as with butter, sherry, garlic, salt and pepper), heated up

labneh or some other thick creamy thing (ex. ricotta, marscapone, cream cheese, Greek yoghurt, etc)

tarragon

apricot and nasturtium 

creme fraiche or some other thick and rich creamy thing (see above)

sliced apricots

chopped walnuts

nasturtium leaves

honey

salt

cherry friands (& er, pokémon go)

My cousin is visiting, and perhaps the one thing you have to do here is go for a walk through the park. The pathways are as crowded as they ever get in the summer, especially in the early evening, with small groups that move steadily along in a twisting circuit around the park. There are teenagers, young adults, middle-aged families. Most of them carry their phone in one hand, some with a wire looped under their arm, presumably attached to an extra backpack-tucked battery. Occasionally someone might step off the path and onto the grass, disturbing the already plenty-ruffled geese to flick at their phone screen.

As you might expect, you hear a lot of “zubat” and “drowsee” and “pidgey!” “pidgey.” “pidgey…”

The Cousin was amazed. “You don’t see this where I live,” she said as we dutifully caught our respective pidgeys. “Never so many people playing at once.”

It’s something to do with such a close bundle of pokéstops in my city’s main easily accessible public public, close but separated from busy streets. Lit up with lure modules all day long, it makes for a massive and centralized congregation of Pokémon hunters.

It’s fun, but a bit overwhelming.A summer volunteer project recently finished up, and as we all departed one of my fellow volunteers wished me not a wonderful remaining summer, but happy Pokémon hunting. It seemed to be my dominant characteristic in the group (perhaps the fact that I was comparing Pokémon stats with some of the eight-year olds we worked with contributed to that).

I’m feeling the need to justify myself right now, so a question: Why do I play Pokémon Go?

The answer: It’s awfully inconvenient.

An inconvenient game might be the best sort of game. It makes it tough for Pokémon Go to become that addictive, as you actually have to go outside and walk. I can’t stay home and play it all day (unless I were to live within range of a Pokéstop, perhaps). Instead, I need to go out, and Pokemon Go directs one towards local landmarks and public art, but whether or not the game really encourages visitors to appreciate said locations is debatable.

I watched Pokémon growing up too, though admittedly, only when I couldn’t watch Digimon.

(For those who claim that Digimon is a Pokémon rip off: perhaps, but some fundamental differences set it apart…

1. Digimon has an actual, measurable and semi-structured plot line
2. Digimon actually does play off the fact that Digimon are “digital” monsters—at least in the third season where we see an existential discussion over whether something digital can truly be your friend
3. Digimon is all about character development, because digimon evolution is linked to, and, requires, the development and affirmation of your personality (as well as one’s emotional state). I always love me some character development)

 

I seem to be meeting more people that play Pokémon Go or are at least ambivalent towards it than I’ve met people that distinctly dislike it. Still, there are, undeniably, some downsides to the game. It can also become very distracting and lead to potentially unsafe behaviours. While focusing on a small mobile device for any reason is distracting, the dangerous difference is that Pokémon Go in particular leads to these behaviours when you are out and about and actively travelling.

There are also some incredibly inappropriate Pokéstops (see this or this or this). Now, retrospectively, these issues are being rectified, but this is instead of avoiding these problems in the first place.

The park has fairly innocuous Pokéstops though. They’re mainly art and bridges, and even a swing set, so they’ll continue bringing in the players, the cyclists and joggers will continue being smothered until they shift to the quieter (Pokéstop-free) pathways, and the pidgeys will keep on coming.

What are your thoughts on Pokémon Go? Has it changed the activity of communities and parks where you live?I’ve been vaguely turning over friands in my head for the past while. Eventually I decided to find a recipe, and was suprised by just how different they each seemed to be. Eventually I decided to try an approach I once saw on Poires au Chocolat: compare underlying ratios in each recipe.

They varied even more than I realised. In the tables below, values are in grams and ratios are unitless (except for the egg whites which are counted instead, and the ratio expressed in a horrible unit of egg whites per gram of butter).

Recipe from:	a splash of vanilla	BBC	What Katie Ate	Donna Hay	BBC (2)	Dorie Greenspan (financiers)	Food to Love	Guai Shu Shu	eat, little bird
butter	100	100	300	125	200	180	150	150	160
flour	50	25	100	125	75	90	75	50	100
egg white	4	3	10	5	6	6	6	5	6
icing sugar	160	125	370	200	200	200	240	150	225
almond meal	80	85	175	116	140	100	125	150	125
Ratios
butter	1	1	1	1	1	1	1	1	1
flour	0.5	0.25	0.333333333	1	0.375	0.5	0.5	0.333333333	0.625
egg whites	0.04	0.03	0.033333333	0.04	0.03	0.033333333	0.04	0.033333333	0.0375
icing sugar	1.6	1.25	1.233333333	1.6	1	1.111111111	1.6	1	1.40625
almond meal	0.8	0.85	0.583333333	0.928	0.7	0.555555556	0.833333333	1	0.78125

I ended up deciding to do something like this:

	Average ratio		Ratio of choice	Recipe
Butter	1		1	100
Flour	0.490740741		0.4	40
Egg white	0.035277778		0.03	3
icing sugar	1.311188272		1.2	120
almond meal	0.781274691		0.8	80

But then changed things around once more while putting the friands together.

Eventually, with enough egg whites and butter and almonds, it would be interesting to try out a few different ratios and see what the results are. The ratios aside, looking up friands was incredible fun. It seems every recipe has a different flavour: macadamia and coconut and lime, rhubarb and vanilla, spiced, mango and pistachio, fig and walnut and spice, hazelnut and chocolate… It’s such a simple cake and very quick to bring together, which makes it amenable to experimentation.

It is quite the financier: the chewiness, the crisp crust, the buttery and tight crumb. But the connotations of friand gives it so much more freedom to be whatever you like (though it hasn’t stopped me with financiers…like this or this).

For once I used only all purpose flour (it was by accident!), and so the financiers turned out a bit anemic looking…and a bit bland. While I’m disappointed it also made me quite happy: this gives me good reason to keep on making everything whole wheat or part spelt flour.

These friands were quite an exercise in forgetting things: not only the whole wheat flour, but the crème de prunelle (similar to amaretto) was completely forgotten until only the last bit of batter was left. The swirl of rosehip jam was iffy–it too often landed up on the side of the friand instead of being swirled through, and didn’t particularly contribute either.

So in the end these friands were simple and plain, just a vehicle for big oven-softened black cherries.

cherry friands with rosehip jam (and perhaps some crème de prunelle or amaretto)

100 g butter

3 egg whites

45 g flour

105 g icing sugar

80 g ground almond

pinch salt

creme de prunelle or amaretto

rosehip jam

cherries

Preheat oven to 350. Butter 2 mini muffin tins (probably use 18-24 wells) or a around 12 small tins.

Melt the butter and set aside to cool.

Whisk the eggs until they are a bubbly froth, but not holding peaks. Sift in the flour and icing sugar, and whisk until combined. Stir in the almonds and then the melted and cooled butter. Stir in a few spoonfuls of creme de prunelle.

Put a bit of batter in each mold. Add a bit of rosehip jam, swirl with a knife, and top with some additional batter. Place a cherry on the top of each cake.

Bake for around 20 minutes or until browned and cooked through.