cha siu, adobo & pineapple buns

With the 100th anniversary of the Canadian government’s Chinese Exclusion Act this past summer, and the scholarship, remembrances, and advocacy it has helped bring to the forefront, my family has been talking a lot more about Chinese Canadian history. First recommended by my aunt, Karen Cho’s documentary Big Fight in Little Chinatown has been doing the rounds. The documentary chronicles resistance to the gentrification of Chinatowns in the centre of several North American cities, and in doing so, reminds us the role they’ve played both historically and currently, and why they need to be saved.

While Chinatowns were first established in more undesirable areas, many eventually became part of the contested urban core as the city expanded. It was in Chinatown, just around the corner from my grandpa’s childhood home, that the city decided to place an incinerator and landfill – where else, after all? Many years later the rubbish facilities are long gone, redeveloped into large office towers. So too are the rows of tenement housing my grandpa grew up in, leaving only a few blocks of Chinatown that remain. While not all communities have been chipped away to the same degree, many of them are facing the same pressures.

Why does this matter? At first thought, older Chinatowns are of questionable relevance – fenced in, priced out, the aging population subject to atrophy as the community shifts elsewhere. As is the case with ethnic enclaves, a tension around Chinatowns has always existed, where for many “making it” was moving out. I think about my grandma’s family, who lived in a predominantly white suburb. In many ways this made their life easier; they were regarded by their neighbours as a singular benign curiosity, whereas my grandpa, living in the heart of Chinatown which embodied the so-called “yellow peril” of Chinese immigration, faced much more overt discrimination. But even then, every weekend my grandma and her mother would head to Chinatown to hear the news and gather with the small Chinese community that existed. As the documentary explores, these are still valuable places of community today, particularly for seniors and newer immigrants.

Furthermore, given the long history of Chinatowns being displaced and expropriated, their existence signals continued resistance and a fight for visibility. Along this vein, Big Fight brought up an interesting perspective on architecture. When the San Francisco Chinatown burnt down in a fire in 1906, it was rebuilt with stereotyped Chinese architectural features: decorative rooftops, ornate lampposts, strings of paper lanterns, and stylized street signs, part of a strategy to establish Chinatown as a tourist destination. The documentary explains the reconstruction another way: the city wanted Chinatown relocated, but the community determinedly rebuilt, incorporating these architectural details as defiant proof that this here was Chinatown, and it was not going anywhere.

While Big Fight makes an empathetic and moving case, if anything, I would say that it felt a bit lacking in intersectionality. I understand wanting to keep the documentary focused on a Chinese North American perspective, but it felt like a missed opportunity to comment on the role of this fight within a larger struggle towards equitable city development. Watching footage of community protests for Chinatown made me think of the complicated history of both solidarity, and lack thereof, with other groups and movements.

Still, I can’t help but feel the specialness of these places. My family doesn’t have historical ties to the tiny Chinatown in the city I grew up in, but it’s the one in my memories. Since I was a kid, we would go there for a box of buns and Cantonese barbeque – a roast duck, a chunk of cha siu, and a few ribs of crispy roast pork. My mum and I would hop out while my dad would circle the block a few times in the car – there never was any parking.

A few months ago, I realized we hadn’t actually been by since the pandemic, and convinced my parents to join me. Many of the places we used to go are no longer there; now there’s only a single bakery and one barbeque place left. But we were also pleasantly surprised: while the name had changed, it was the same lady who had worked the barbeque counter for over 30 years. She still ran the business together with her son, and the duck and cha siu tasted even better than we remembered. Against all odds, Chinatown is still here. Albeit, partially through the popularity of being now mostly bubble tea franchise central … but it’s still here.

You can watch the full documentary here through TV Ontario!

The starting inspiration behind these buns were to put pineapple into a pineapple bun, a Chinese bakery classic with a cookie-like pineapple-textured topping. Not that pineapple buns need actual pineapple – they are plenty delicious as is, and look sufficiently like their namesake that they don’t need to prove their pineapple-ness to anyone! But don’t you also sort of want to put pineapple in a pineapple bun? You do too, right? For twice the pineapple-ness?

I was thinking about pineapple, and then about tacos al pastor and the combination of marinated spit roasted pork and pineapple. These buns are a play on the sweet/savoury vibes of al pastor and cha siu and pineapple buns. I’ve supplemented a classic cha siu bao filling with broiled pineapple and canned chipotles in adobo, as a shortcut to invoke some of the flavours of al pastor. I think this is the most delicious savoury bun filling I’ve made in a while – salty and sweet and spicy and saucy filling, fluffy bun, crisp top.

• Servings: 6 buns
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Filling adapted from Woks of Life (for cha siu bao aspects) and i am a food blog (for shortcut al pastor-inspired aspects). Pineapple topping adapted from mthmchris and bun dough adapted from Christine’s Recipes.

filling

• 100g chopped pineapple from a can of pineapple (or you could certainly do fresh if you have on hand)
• 1 tbsp oil
• 1/4 cup minced onion
• 1 tbsp oyster sauce
• 1 tsp light soy sauce
• 1 tsp dark soy sauce
• 1 tsp sesame oil
• 2 chipotles from a can of chipotle in adobo, finely chopped (use more or less depending on your spice preferences – see note at end)
• 1 tbsp of the sauce/saucy bits from a can of chipotles in adobo
• 60g (1/4 cup) pineapple juice from can of pineapple (if it’s packed in juice; or substitute more water)
• 30g (2 tbsp) water
• 1 tbsp flour
• 150g (1 cup) finely diced cha siu
• 1 finely chopped green onion

pineapple bun topping

• 50g butter
• 50g granulated sugar
• 1/2 tsp baking powder
• 1/4 tsp kosher salt
• 10g egg
• 75g all-purpose flour

tangzhong

• 64g water
• 13g flour

dough

• slightly generous 1/2 tsp active dry yeast
• 1 tbsp warm water
• 50g milk
• 15g cream
• 30g egg
• 190g all-purpose flour + 6g wheat gluten (or 196g bread flour)
• 1/2 tsp kosher salt
• 30g granulated sugar
• 22g soft butter
• beaten egg for egg wash

For the filling, begin by broiling the pineapple. Line a small baking tray with foil and spread the pineapple over the tray. Broil for about 10 minutes on a rack set in the upper third of the oven until pineapple pieces have a bit of char. Watch so they don’t burn.

For the rest of the filling, place the oil in a pan and heat over medium. Add the onion and cook a couple minutes until softened, then stir in the oyster sauce, soy sauces, sesame oil, as well as the finely chopped chilis and sauce from the chipotle in adobo. Stir and continue to cook until it comes to a bubble, then add the pineapple juice, water and flour. Reduce heat to medium low and cook about 2-3 minutes or until the mixture is thickened and saucy. Take off the heat and stir in the cha siu, green onion and broiled pineapple.

Once the filling has cooled, store in the fridge. It will stick together better when cold and make it easier to fill the buns.

For the pineapple bun topping, cream butter, sugar, baking powder and salt with a spoon until combined. Beat in the egg. Finally add the flour, mixing with a spoon until just combined. Scrape onto a piece of plastic wrap, mold into a log, wrap and chill completely.

To make the tangzhong, whisk together the flour and water in a small saucepan until there are no lumps. Heat over low-medium, stirring constantly with a rubber spatula until the mixture thickens into a thin paste and lines are left in the roux behind when stirring (check by stirring without touching the bottom of the saucepan). If you have a thermometer, check the temperature – it should be 65C or 149F. Remove from the heat and transfer to a bowl to cool.

For the dough, mix together the yeast, tbsp of water and a sprinkle of sugar. Allow to sit 5 minutes until it bubbles and smells yeasty.

Whisk the milk, cream and egg into the tangzhong. Meanwhile in the bowl of a standmixer, stir together the flour, wheat gluten, sugar and salt. Add the dissolved yeast and tangzhong mixture. Mix slowly with the dough hook to form a cohesive dough. Add the butter and work into the dough until smooth. Knead on medium-high speed for about 10 minutes or until the dough is very smooth and elastic.

Cover and then let rest until doubled, about an hour or so

Line a baking tray with parchment paper. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and deflate it. Cut into 6 portions – each will likely be around 67g. Shape each into a ball. Working with one ball of dough at a time, roll out the ball into a disc (at least about 13cm or 5″ in diameter to accommodate all the filling) making the centre thicker than the edges. Cup the dough in your hand and dollop about 1/6th of the chilled filling over top. Close the dough over the filling and pinch the edges together to seal. Place the filled bun on the prepared tray, then repeat with the remaining pieces of dough.

Cover with plastic or a damp kitchen towel and let rise until puffed, about 45 minutes to 1 hour.

Near the end of the rise start preheating the oven to 400F. Cut the log of topping into 6 slices. Take a piece, turn it so the cut side faces up, and roll it out between two small sheets of plastic wrap into a circle large enough to drape over the risen bun. Drape each bun with a circle of pineapple topping. Brush with beaten egg.

Bake for 5 minutes at 400F, then turn the temperature down to 350 for about 15 minutes more (total 2- minutes) or until the buns are golden. Let cool on a wire rack. Best eaten fresh while the pineapple topping is still crispy. If you save them for another day, store in the fridge and reheat to recrisp the topping.

Note on chipotles: For my tastes, two chipotles gave a nice bit of spice – noticeable but not very spicy – make of that what you will! I recommend adding according to your own taste. When trying the filling be sure to keep in mind that the spice will be diluted with plenty of fluffy bread so the end result will not taste as spicy.

beet, za’atar & honey brioche

I love these – salt and sweet and herbs to balance the beets, encased in a pillowy dough crusted with toasted sesame.

These breads are really from last year (and the first trial a year before that), and I had been planning to finally post them sometime this fall. The flavours are very much inspired by a beetroot, za’atar, and honey galette in Sami Tamimi and Tara Wigley’s beautiful cookbook, Falastin (Palestine in Arabic). The feature seasoning, za’atar, has itself has been one of the faces of the Israel-Palestine conflict.

It feels only right to acknowledge the Palestinian inspiration behind this recipe, but also so very, very heartbreaking at the same time.

What I’ve been reading: on the intergenerational traumas of both sides, and on the reality of right now.

• Servings: 6 buns
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Flavours inspired by the beetroot, za’atar, feta and honey galette from Sami Tamimi and Tara Wigley in Falastin. You can also find this recipe republished in The Guardian. Brioche dough adapted from Peter Reinhart’s The Bread Baker’s Apprentice.

brioche dough

sponge

• 24g all purpose flour
• 3/4 tsp instant yeast
• 1/2 tsp granulated sugar
• 48g whole milk

remainder of dough

• 155g all purpose flour + 6g vital wheat gluten (or substitute bread flour)
• 1 tsp kosher salt
• 2 large eggs
• 90g soft butter

beets

• 400g beets (6 medium beets – I used a mix of red, golden and pink)
• olive oil

filling

• 60g thick greek yoghurt
• 40g crumbled feta
• 1 tsp za’atar
• 1 garlic clove, crushed
• 20g beaten egg

to assemble and bake

• beaten egg for egg wash
• sesame seeds
• crumbled feta
• fresh thyme
• honey
• za’atar

Day 1: make the brioche dough.

For the brioche dough, begin by mixing the ingredients for the sponge. Let ferment on the counter for around 30 minutes or until very bubbly.

Now for the remainder of the dough: mix together the flour, wheat gluten and salt in the bowl of a standmixer. Add the fermented sponge and eggs to the flour mixture and mix with a wooden spoon until a rough dough is formed. Then use the dough hook on the standmixer to knead the dough for a about five minutes or until smooth and stretchy. It will be quite sticky.

Add the butter, a lump at a time, incorporating each addition fully before the next. Occasionally scrape down the dough hook. Once all the butter is added, knead the dough until smooth and stretchy, another few minutes. Cover and let rise overnight in the fridge, or if you’d like to continue the same day, about 1 1/2 – 2 hours at room temperature, or until doubled. Note that brioche dough is easier to handle (less sticky and firm) when cold, so I generally favour an overnight rise.

Day 2 (or continue on the same day): Assemble and bake.

For the beets, scrub the beets until clean. Place in a saucepan, cover with water, and bring to a boil. Cook until the beets are cooked through – how long it takes will depend on the size of the beets. Once cooked, let the beets cool, peel them and then cut them into wedges. Toss the wedges with a bit of olive oil, and season with some salt and pepper. (Note: to avoid the colour bleeding, separate the beets by colour while mixing with the oil.) Set aside.

For the filling, stir together all the ingredients. Set aside.

To assemble, begin by lining a baking tray with parchment paper. Deflate the dough and turn out onto a floured countertop. Divide into 6 equal pieces, each about 67g. Roll each piece into a ball. Dust with flour, then roll out each ball into a circle about 9cm in diameter and 1.25cm tall. Space the circles apart on the baking tray. Cover with plastic and let rise until puffed, about 45 minutes to 2 hours, depending if the dough starts from cold or room temperature.

Near the end of the rise, begin preheating the oven to 425F.

Once the dough is risen use your fingers to tamp down the centre of the dough, leaving a ~2cm raised rim of dough around the centre. Brush the puffy edges of the dough with eggwash and sprinkle with sesame seeds and salt. Put a couple spoonfuls of the feta filling into the depressed centre of each bread. Arrange wedges of beets overtop, using a bit of each colour. Scatter some more crumbled feta and fresh thyme over top.

Pop in the oven and bake about 12-15 minutes or until deeply browned. While the buns are still warm, drizzle a bit of honey over each and sprinkle with some more za’atar and fresh thyme leaves. Best eaten fresh!

seeded olive hot cross buns

It was probably only a matter of time before I crossed the hot cross bun line. Anyways, here we are: a savoury seedy olive hot cross bun! It is, to echo my last post, not really a hot cross bun at all, except perhaps marginally in spirit.

But lest you be unconvinced, let me make a case for it. The same way I like my hot cross buns, these buns are thoroughly packed with mix ins – in this case, black olives, feta, sundried tomatoes, parsley, nigella and fennel seeds. It’s a mixture of shapes and colours (black! red! green!) which lends the bun’s cross-section the same vibrant speckling as raisins, peel and mixed glacéed fruit. The dough itself is slightly spiced with fennel seed and cayenne (plus turmeric for the golden hue). And piping lines of flour and water paste on top of any bun doesn’t exactly add to the flavour, but does give it a signature look.

So yes, a travesty, but look, some thought went into it. Also, I think they’re quite tasty – especially with a thick swipe of butter and salt.

The dough itself is based on a many times morphed base recipe I’ve used for other hot cross buns on the site. I did err on higher hydration this time to make it easier to work in the more fragile mix-ins – they’ll all break down a bit, especially the feta, but either way they’ll make it in there. As the olives and feta are potentially very damp, so be sure to drain well and pat them dry before adding to the dough – excess moisture makes it harder to work them into the dough and can make the dough more wet.

• Servings: 10 buns
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for the bun dough

• 120g all-purpose flour
• 120g whole wheat flour
• 1 tsp instant yeast
• 1/2 tsp fennel seeds, finely ground
• 1/2 tsp cayenne pepper
• 1/2 tsp ground turmeric
• 1 1/2 tsp coarse kosher salt
• 1 large egg
• 140g milk
• 45g butter, softened
• 1/2 tbsp sesame seeds (black or white)
• 1/2 tbsp nigella (kalonji) seeds
• 75g drained canned black olives in water, sliced and patted dry (if using brined kalamata style olives, they will be a lot stronger in flavour and this may be far too much olive; try using less)
• 5 dry packed sundried tomato halves (18g), soaked in hot water to soften, then drained, patted dry, and finely chopped (my sundried tomatoes were quite bland so I hope to try this again with oil packed ones someday!)
• 1 handful parsley, chopped
• 80g feta, drained and broken into large chunks

to top

• 30g flour mixed with 32g water for flour cross
• beaten egg for egg wash
• more seeds and salt for sprinkling

In the bowl of a stand mixer, whisk together the flour, yeast, spices and salt. Add the egg and milk and mix using the dough hook until a soft dough is formed. Knead with the dough hook until smooth, then add the butter, a knob at a time, working in each before the next. Knead a couple more minutes on medium-high speed until the dough is very smooth and elastic. Lastly, add the seeds, olives, sundried tomatoes and parsley and knead for a few minutes on medium-low speed to start working it into the dough. Add the feta chunks, and knead until everything is worked into the dough (the feta break apart into small bits as this happens). If the dough becomes quite sticky, which can happen due to excess moisture on the mix-ins, work in a bit more flour as needed.

Place the dough in a covered container and place in the fridge to rise overnight (or you may proceed directly with a ~ 1 hour room temperature rise).

Line a baking tray with parchment paper. Turn out the risen dough on a floured surface and cut into ten equal pieces (each about 63g). This dough is a little stickier, so use more flour as needed. Roll each piece into a tight ball and space evenly apart on the prepared tray. Cover with plastic and let rise, another hour or two (depending on if the dough is cold), until the buns are puffed.

Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 350F.

To make the flour cross, whisk together the flour and water to form a thick, pipeable paste. Transfer to a piping bag with a fine round tip (I used one 2mm in diameter). Brush the risen buns with a bit of beaten egg. Pipe crosses over each bun. Sprinkle the buns with some extra seeds and salt. Bake for about 20 minutes or until golden. Eat with salted butter!

chili lime gougères

I always love a good gougère! They’re quick to make and puff up wonderfully golden in the oven. And I had a lot of fun with these ones… inspired by Tajín chili lime salt, these gougères are flavoured with chili and lime and spiced with a bit of cumin and smoked paprika.

And while optional, these gougères can be about what you put on them just as much as what you put in them – top them with extra lime juice, chili, cheese and cilantro.

• Servings: 12-15 gougeres
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Adapted from Alain Ducasse’s classic gougère recipe via Food and Wine.

• 56g butter
• 60g water
• 60g milk
• 1/4 tsp kosher salt
• 62g all-purpose flour
• about 2 large eggs
• 1/2 tsp ground cayenne (or more or less, depending on spice preferences)
• 1/4 tsp ground cumin
• 1/8 tsp smoked paprika
• finely grated zest of 1 small lime
• 40g aged cheddar, coarsely grated
• 30g feta or young cotija, crumbled

Preheat the oven to 425F and line one or two baking trays with parchment paper.

In a saucepan, warm the water, milk, salt and butter until the butter is fully melted. Bring to a boil, add the flour and quickly mix in with a wooden spoon. Lower the heat and continue to cook the mixture until it forms a ball. Remove the pastry from the heat and let cool slightly before adding the eggs, a bit at a time, beating in each addition completely before the next. You may need a bit more or less egg – the dough should be shiny and form a “V” when a spoon is pulled from the dough, but not fluid. Mix in the spices and lime zest. Ensure the dough has cooled completely or until only just warm before mixing in the cheddar and feta or cotija.

Transfer the pastry to a piping bag fitted with a large round tip. Pipe mounds of pastry, around 1 1/2 tbsp in size spaced a couple of inches apart on the prepared pan(s). You should have enough for 12-15 puffs – depending on how you space them you might just be able to fit them all onto one pan or you might need two. Lightly wet a finger and smooth the top of the piped choux pastry.

Slide the pans into the oven and turn the temperature down to 375F after the first 10 or so minutes. Continue to bake for a total of about 25 minutes or until the gougères are puffed and well browned. Use a knife to poke a slit into the side of each gougère to allow steam to escape.

These gougères are best eaten day of while the outsides are crisp and the insides are custardy. If you like, serve the puffs with a bit more crumbled feta, cilantro leaves, freshly squeezed lime juice and chili flakes.

fenugreek, goat’s cheese & sesame scones

All sorts of good things come covered in sesame: montreal style bagels, this cake, these cookies. Guess what is also quite good rolled in sesame seeds and baked in a hot oven for a toasted nutty exterior…

Dried fenugreek (methi) leaves have a gentle buttery fragrance. It’s mirrored in these scones with plenty of butter; meanwhile wads of soft goat’s cheese add a slight tartness and a bit of ground coriander adds aroma. (For an expansive introduction to fenugreek, read more here!)

I’ve tried a few different drop scone recipes over the years to get to this one. Generally speaking I’ve found much better results with a higher hydration recipe, which allows large scones to puff up to their full tender and fluffy potential. The batter will feel wet, but it’s okay – just gently pat into balls (plus all those sesame seeds will really stick!).

• Servings: 6 hefty scones
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Adapted from Julie van Rosendaal’s drop scone recipe.

• 230g flour, half whole wheat and half all purpose
• 2 1/2 tsp baking powder
• 1 1/2 tsp coarse kosher salt
• 3 generous tbsp (4g) dried fenugreek (methi) leaves (caveat: mine were very, very old, so you may want to use less depending on your fenugreek!)
• 1/2 tsp ground coriander
• 120 cold butter, cut into small dice
• 100g goat cheese, crumbled into chunks
• 200g half-and-half cream
• 50g greek yoghurt
• about 1/3 cup untoasted sesame seeds

Preheat oven to 425F. Line a baking tray with parchment paper.

Whisk together flours, baking powder, salt, fenugreek and coriander. Add the butter and toss to coat the cubes with flour, then cut into the flour with a pastry whisk/two knives (or alternatively, rub in with your fingers) until the mixture appears crumbly. Add the goat cheese and toss together.

Whisk together the cream and yoghurt. Pour over the dry ingredients, tossing together with a fork until all the flour is moistened and a rough dough is formed. The dough will be soft and thick.

Place the sesame seeds in a shallow dish. Divide the dough into six equal portions (each about 115g) and gently pat into balls. Roll all over in the sesame seeds to coat completely. Evenly space the scones apart on the prepared baking tray.

Bake for 10 minutes at 425F, then lower the temperature to 350F for another 10-15 minutes or so, until the scones are browned and cooked through.

pork floss garlic cheese bread

My parents love to garden, especially things which grow well – and in more recent years they’ve discovered garlic. It began as one type, then a few more from the farmers market or specialty plant stores or gardener friends. Each saved bulb gets separated into papery cloves and planted in the fall, emerging next spring and harvested in the summer as a complete bulb. It all means I get access to all the garlic I could ever want and far more.

This year it is several cultivars of garlic. No one has kept track of just how many cloves got planted last year, but no doubt it is a lot.

This is sort-of-ish inspired Korean cream cheese garlic bread – buns stuffed with sweetened cream cheese and dipped in a garlicky custard. Between the cheese and custard glaze, which soaks into the cut edges of the bread, it makes for a rich (and gooey) garlic bread with a noticeably endearing sweetness. It’s a case study in combining sweet and savoury, all in the backdrop of toasty bread and plenty of garlic.

As delicious as the classic cream cheese garlic bread it, I find myself slightly wishing it wasn’t quite as sweet (very much just my personal preference!). That, and I was thinking about how this might go well with another sweet-savoury thing, pork floss, made of dried shreds of pork which are slightly sweetened and spiced. The result were these buns, made of milk bread bread baked with a savoury garlic cream cheese filling, then brushed with garlic butter and crowned with a majestic pile of pork floss. Slid into the oven for a second bake, they emerge pungent, the bun soft and the frayed edges of the pork floss charred. By letting the pork floss be the main source of sweetness, it retains the sweet-savoury homage to the classic, but keeps it the sweetness subtle. To me, it’s the perfect balance and my ideal sweetness for a garlic bread. (Though if you’re a fan of the sweetness of Korean cream cheese garlic, I would recommend upper the sugar in the filling to better emulate that!)

After a couple batches of these two weekends in a row the entire kitchen smelled like garlic, my clothes smelled like garlic, and I smelled like garlic. I ate one every day for lunch for a week until my blood became permanently infused with garlic. I think I finally became one with the garlic. Good practice for the upcoming garlic season later this summer.

• Servings: 6 buns
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Milk bread adapted from Christine’s Recipes. Some Korean garlic cheese bread inspiration referenced from The Plaid Apron.

tangzhong

• 51g water
• 10g all-purpose flour

milk bread

• 1/2 tsp yeast
• 2 tsp warm water
• 36g milk
• 10g heavy cream
• 25g egg
• 150g all-purpose flour
• 1/2 tsp kosher salt
• 10g granulated sugar
• 16g butter, softened

first bake

cream cheese filling

• 150g cream cheese
• 1/2 tsp coarse kosher salt
• 1 tsp granulated sugar
• 1 good-sized clove of garlic, minced
• 1 green onion, finely chopped

eggwash

• beaten egg for egg wash

second bake

garlic butter

• 28g (2 tbsp) butter, melted
• 1 good-sized clove of garlic, minced
• 1/8 tsp each dried oregano and dried basil

garnish

• pork floss

To make the tangzhong, whisk together the flour and water in a small saucepan until there are no lumps. Heat over low-medium, stirring constantly with a rubber spatula until the mixture thickens into a thin paste and lines are left in the roux behind when stirring (check by stirring without touching the bottom of the saucepan). If you have a thermometer, check the temperature – it should be 65C or 149F. Remove from the heat and transfer to a bowl to cool.

For the dough, mix together the yeast, tbsp of water and a sprinkle of sugar. Allow to sit 5-10 minutes until it bubbles and smells yeasty (not necessary with instant yeast but sometimes I prefer this to ensure the yeast granules break up).

Whisk the milk and eggs into the tangzhong.

In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, wheat gluten if using, salt, sugar and yeast. Add the tangzhong/milk/egg mixture and stir with a wooden spoon (or use the dough hook of a standmixer) until a cohesive dough is formed. Turn out onto the counter and knead in the soft butter in two additions. The dough should be smooth, elastic and tacky. Place the dough in a container and let rise overnight in the fridge (or if you want to do it all in one day, go ahead and let it rise 1 hour at room temperature or until doubled and then proceed immediately).

The next day turn out the risen dough on a floured surface. Deflate and divide into 6 equal pieces (each about 50g). Roll each piece into a ball, then use a rolling pin to roll each ball out to 8cm diameter disc. Place the pieces of dough on a baking tray lined with parchment paper. Use your fingers to poke the centre of each disc to thin out the amount of dough there (it will make it a bit easier for you later when filling). Cover and let rise until well puffed, 1-2 hours (longer if the dough is cold).

Meanwhile, make the filling. Mix together the cream cheese, salt, sugar and garlic. (If you prefer the sweet filling which is more classic, you can also mix in about 2 tbsp of sugar.) Set aside until ready to use.

Near the end of the rise, start preheating the oven to 375F for the first bake. Once the dough is risen, fill the dough. Wet your fingers under the tap so the dough doesn’t stick, and tamp a ~4cm diameter circle in the centre of each bun to accommodate the filling, leaving a ~2cm border. Dollop 1/6 of the filling on each bun and spread to fill the cavity. Brush the buns with beaten egg. Place the buns in the oven and turn the temperature down to 350F. Bake around 10-12 minutes or until golden brown.

Next, prepare for the second bake by turning the oven temperature up to 400F. Make the garlic butter by mixing together the melted butter, garlic and dried herbs. Brush the buns generously with the butter. Put a large spoonful of pork floss on top of each bun.

Bake the buns for about 3-5 minutes or until the pork floss has browned a bit, the buns smell very fragrant. Eat warm!

rosemary & yuzu kosho focaccia (& the cousin reviews…2021)

The Cousin (aka the Writographer) is my one and only loyal blog reader. As she lives across the country from me, she often doesn’t often get the chance to actually try my bakes but I always love hearing her impressions on the recipes. I went through our texts to collect some thoughts she had sent about the past year’s worth of recipes, for a bit of a blog year in review from her perspective. (Shared with my cousin’s permission!)

the cousin reviews…2021

Chocolate prune and whiskey ice cream: Why would you add prunes and whiskey to chocolate ice cream? Interesting though, just not my taste.  

Mango fennel mousse cake: The mango fennel mousse cake looks incredible!
Do I like mango? No…
Do I despise fennel? Yes…
But it looks really good. I am almost tempted.

Orange, fennel & almond biscotti: I almost like the flavours, but I hate fennel.

Grapefruit cream tart: I think I would eat that grapefruit tart! Yay, you’ve now made two things I’ll eat.

Saffron & cardamom hot cross buns: …hmm.

Burnt miso and star anise banana tarte tatin: Interesting. I am not a fan of bananas and I really dislike star anise. So…

Cardamom-poached rhubarb & browned butter almond tart: I hate cardamom, not sure about rhubarb and sometimes I like almond. But I love butter.

Beet morning glory muffins: Your photos for the muffins look so good! But I don’t think I’d enjoy them… (beets, coconut, raisins, and pecans…)

Caramelized banana houjicha cream puffs: Apart from the banana, the cream puffs look delicious!

Spiced chestnut pumpkin tart: I’m surprised that you’re still cooking with chestnut purée. I am scarred for life.
Pie looks great though.
Ugh I will never have chestnut puree again.

(While this might make my cousin sound picky, she does seem to eat just about anything I give her (including many of the ingredients she professes to dislike) so either she is far too trusting or far less picky than she thinks, or both.)

I made this rosemary focaccia with the addition of yuzu kosho, a fermented yuzu and chili condiment (for more on yuzu kosho and ways to use it, look at this article from Just One Cookbook!). The yuzu kosho provides spice and a bit of citrus, a combination I love along with the rosemary, and acts to really brighten up the focaccia. I’m also a big fan of this dough, adapted from a Rose Levy Beranbaum recipe: high hydration, springy and rises with a great craggy crumb.

I am on the fence about how edible my cousin thinks this focaccia would be. While I think she would like the yuzu kosho, I’m not sure how she feels about rosemary… (Edit: the cousin has spoken – rosemary is fine but she is not sure about the spice from the yuzu kosho… until next time she visits, I suppose!)

rosemary & yuzu kosho focaccia

• Servings: one 9 by 13-inch pan
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Dough adapted from Rose Levy Beranbaum’s The Bread Bible. 

equipment: 9×13-inch baking pan

dough

• 300g all purpose flour
• 1 1/2 tsp kosher salt
• 1/2 tsp instant yeast
• 240g water
• 1 tbsp olive oil + more for the pan

topping

• 4 tbsp olive oil
• 2 1/2 tsp green yuzu kosho
• 1 heaping packed tbsp rosemary leaves
• coarse salt

To make the dough, combine all the ingredients in a bowl with a wooden spoon. Once a rough dough is formed, cover with a damp cloth and let rest for 20 minutes.

To knead in a mixer, use the dough hook (about 10-15 minutes on medium speed; probably quicker on a higher speed) and work the dough until very stretchy and elastic and at least close to passing the windowpane test. It will become less sticky as you go on.

To knead by hand, as it’s a very well hydrated and sticky dough, this is a perfect time to use the slap and fold method à la Richard Bertinet (Beranbaum describes a method to do with pinching the dough to elongate it but I expect it accomplishes the same thing). Pick up the dough in both hands and slap it down on the countertop. Pull the part of the dough you’re holding towards you to stretch the dough, then fold it in half. Pick up the dough again, but this time from a 90 degree angle so that when you slap it back down the dough is rotated 90 degrees. Repeat. Throughout the process the dough will be very sticky, but that’s okay! Relax, tell yourself it’s okay that my hands are coated in sticky dough, and try not to use any additional flour. I find the best way to keep myself motivated about kneading is to listen to music – this dough is a three-song knead (about 10 minutes). By the end, the dough should be supple and stretchy, and perhaps less sticky than it began.

Return the dough to the bowl, cover with the damp cloth, and let rest twenty minutes. Then fold the dough right in the bowl; wet your hand or use a wet or oiled bowl scraper scrape up one edge of the dough and stretching it to the other side of the bowl, then turn the bowl 90 degrees and repeat. Let rest another 20 minutes and repeat the folding. You can also do coil folds (this link illustrates).

Let the dough rise until it appears about doubled, 1-2 hours.

Pour a bit of olive oil (about 1 to 1 1/2 tsp) into a 9×13″ metal baking tin and spread it around to grease the tin. Pull the dough out of the bowl and stretch it out in your hands first into a rectangular shape. Place the dough in the pan and turn it over so both sides are coated in oil. Use your fingers to stretch out the dough to fit the pan. It will probably spring back on your a bit so cover the pan, let the dough relax 15 minutes, and then stretch the dough again. (Repeat another time if needed – try not to overdo it on the olive oil and this process will be easier).

Allow to rise until bubbly and it appears somewhat doubled in height, approximately another 1 1/2 hours.

While the dough rises, whisk together the olive oil and yuzu kosho – it won’t become smooth, but the yuzu kosho will separate into smaller bits and become more distributed throughout the oil. Add the rosemary leaves and mix.

Preheat the oven to 450F near the end of the rise.

Once the dough is risen, dip your hands in water and use your fingers to deeply dimple the dough all over, pressing down to the bottom of the pan. Use a spoon to scatter the oil mixture evenly, being sure to get some yuzu kosho clumps in each spoonful, over the focaccia (you may need to use your fingers to separate the rosemary leaves to prevent them from clumping). Sprinkle generously!! with salt.

Place the focaccia in the oven and bake for about 15-20 minutes or until browned on top.

bureka with green harissa & eggs

Sidewalk Citizen Bakery is a bit of Calgary institution, and for good reason: think dark-crusted loaves, immaculate pastries and Israeli cuisine. A few years ago I had tried the the cheese bureka (or boureka), flaky pastry around salty cheese, warmed and filled with sliced egg and a herbaceous green harissa. It was one of the most immediately delicious things I’ve had.

Not a hmm, it’s growing on me delicious or a hmm, acquired taste delicious or even a hmm, actually that’s quite delicious. It was a OH, very delicious sort of thing. No time to hmm. As you might imagine, between the butter, flake, salt, spice and herb there is almost no path except to very delicious.

Most often burekas tend to be filled with cheese, spinach, potato or meat (read more about the history and origin of burekas here!). I like how simple cheese filling plays the additional fillings. Making them yourself is never going to be quite Sidewalk Citizen, but it’s hard for it not to be still rather good! I’ve brought these on picnics too, with sliced eggs and green harissa in separate containers for the splitting and filling.

I’ve made these a number of times now and I often seem to end up with some filling leakage (probably because I like an overly generous filling and can’t stop myself…). The browned and crisped cheese filling is actually quite yummy…but to minimize filling leakage, I found these steps help:

1. Ensure the dough is rolled out large enough for each square to be 4.5 to 5″ squares, otherwise they’ll be overfilled!
2. Also ensure the dough is fairly thin, about 3mm. Use the recommended quantity of dough rolled to recommended dimensions. Too thick and they can pop open as happened to me in one batch!
3. Seal the dough well – ensure you have a border free of filling, brush the border with a bit of egg or water to help it seal, and press down

bureka with green harissa and eggs

• Servings: 6 bureka
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Puff pastry from Joe Pastry, filling from Epicurious, and shaping more so from Tori Avey. Green harissa recipe from bon appetit. Inspiration from Sidewalk Citizen Bakery.

bureka

• 350g puff pastry (a bit over half recipe, see below)
• 1 egg, beaten for egg wash
• sesame seeds

filling

• 50g (1/2 c) grated old white cheddar
• 65g (1/2 c) crumbled feta
• 1 egg
• 18g (1 spoonful) thick yoghurt
• ground black pepper

Preheat oven to 400F.

For the filling, mix together all ingredients.

Roll out the dough into a rectangle 9 by 14.5″ or 10 by 15″ (dough will be around 3mm thick). To prevent the dough from springing back as you roll it, you may need to rest the dough in the fridge once partially rolled out. Trim the edges to make a clean rectangle. Cut into six 4.5 to 5″ squares.

Place a generous tablespoon of filling on each square (you’ll probably have a bit extra). Brush a bit of beaten egg along the border to help it seal, then fold half the dough over onto itself to form a triangle. Press to seal.  To ensure there’s no leakage, make sure you at least have a border of 1 cm to seal with. Brush with beaten egg and sprinkle with sesame seeds.

Bake at 400F for 10 minutes, then turn down temperature to 350F for another 15-20 minutes or until very golden and puffed.

to serve

• boiled eggs, sliced

green harissa

• 1 1/2 tsp ground cumin
• 3/4 tsp ground coriander
• 1 jalapeno, seeds removed and finely chopped
• 1 green onion, chopped
• 1 small clove of garlic, finely minced (use a small clove so garlic is not overwhelming)
• 1/4 c olive oil
• 1/4 c parsley, chopped
• 1/4 c cilantro, chopped
• juice from half a lemon (around 1.5 – 2 tbsp)
• scant 1/2 tsp kosher salt

I won’t even attempt to provide instructions on boiling eggs! It’s is a very personal thing – in terms of preference, altitude, and stovetop, anyhow. For me, at a bit of a higher elevation, a creamy deeper yellow – but not runny – yolk takes 9 minutes of simmering, but at sea level it’s been closer to 7.5 minutes. Boil your eggs however it works for you!

To make the green harissa, combine all ingredients in a food processor. Taste and add lemon as needed.

To serve, open a warm bureka, spread with green harissa and top with sliced egg.

puff pastry

• Servings: about 650g pastry
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From Joe Pastry – see here for recipe and here for lamination instructions. His lamination instructions are a gem – both for the instructive pictures, but also for the gleeful lines such as “when making pastry, violence is always the first resort.” Indeed. 

• 250g a.p. flour
• 1 tsp salt 
• 35g soft butter
• 113g water
• 1/4 tsp vinegar (which I’ve read elsewhere helps prevent discolouration of the dough – likely referring to the oxidation of the flour)

butter slab

• 252g butter
• 2 tbsp a.p. flour

Make the dough: whisk together/use the paddle attachment of a stand mixer to combine the flour and salt. Add in the butter, mixing into it’s fairly incorporated. Add the water and vinegar, mixing until a dough is beginning to be formed – at this point switch to the dough hook. Add a bit of water at a time if some dry flour remains until it is all incorporated. Knead just until a cohesive dough is formed. Wrap in plastic and chill at least a couple hours.

Once the dough is chilled, make the butter slab: Lay the butter on a double layer of plastic wrap, sprinkling over the flour. Cover with more plastic and use a rolling pin to smack the butter flat. Turn the butter over onto itself to help incorporate the butter and smack again, continuing as needed until the butter becomes soft and flexible, but still cool to the touch and not shiny or greasy appearing, at which point it would be too warm. As you do this, use the pin or a ruler as a straight edge to mold the butter into a tidy square shape.

On a lightly floured surface, roll out the dough into a square a bit larger than the butter slab. Lay the butter slab on the square dough like a diamond, so the points of the butter slab point to, and nearly touch, the midpoint of each side. Pull each corner of the dough to the middle of the butter slab in order to seal in the butter slab. Pinch the edges of the dough together to seal.

Smack with a rolling pin starting from the middle out in each direction to help distribute the butter into all the far reaches of the envelope. Once the butter has been distributed, start rolling out into a large rectangle – my dough may have been around 1 cm thick or so. I haven’t put in any specifics on dimensions because at this point I don’t think it matters too much – and I found that not worrying about measurements made the whole process less stressful and more enjoyable. Fold the dough into thirds along the largest dimension to form a new, smaller rectangle to complete the first fold. Wrap tightly in plastic to prevent the outside of the dough from drying out and chill for 1 hour.

For the second fold, lightly flour the counter and again roll out the dough into a large rectangle. Fold into thirds, then wrap tightly and chill for another hour. Repeat the process four times more for a total of six folds. The dough is then ready to use.

giant aged cheddar gougères with jam & butter

My love for these gougères makes me wonder at the power of form, shape and dimension in influencing our experience of eating… or to put my revelation in other words: bigger is better.

In the end they are what they are – gougères, choux pastry flecked with grated cheese – and the exact same recipe I’ve made multiple times before. But the larger size gives these puffs a generously rustic, scone-like presence. You can hold it in two hands and take what you think is a substantive bite only for it to collapse in a puff of air and bronzed batter and butter and toasted cheese. They are what I imagine scones would be if you rubbed in air in the place of cold butter.

I was inspired by the gougères at Pigeonhole where they’re served massive plus butter and jam. I haven’t had the chance to try theirs, but I was immediately fascinated when I mistook them for scones at first glance.

These gougères are delicious on their own (and that is generally how I end up eating them), but after trying them with some strawberry rhubarb jam I made last summer, I quite enjoyed that too! Another idea: apple butter?

The gougères are best the day of while they’ve retained a contrast between the crisp exterior and a custardy honeycombed interior. It’s not too hard to finish them on the first day though; after all, they are literally half, if not more, air and hence easily inhaled. (Or so I excuse myself after eating half the batch.)

tips to keep your giant gougères giant

I’ve made several batches of these, and while I still occasionally have a sinker or two, there are a couple of things I’ve picked up on to ensure maximal puff:

1. Allow the batter to cool before mixing in the grated cheese to prevent it from melting before hitting the oven
2. Resist the temptation to sprinkle additional shredded cheese on top – small gougères can handle it, but these ones tend to sink under even a little bit
3. Proper batter consistency – sometimes if I’m making choux pastry where I want it to hold it’s shape, I’ll err on slightly stiffer batter. But I’ve found that if it’s too stiff, the pastry won’t puff as much, so in this case be sure to add the entire 2 large eggs as specified in the recipe.

• Servings: 6 gougères
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Adapted from Alain Ducasse with whole wheat flour, cheddar, herbs and now gigantic. They are big, but they go so fast that a double recipe could be warranted…

gougères

• 60g water (1/4 cup)
• 60g milk (1/4 cup)
• 57g butter (1/2 a stick)
• good pinch salt
• ground black pepper
• 1-2 tsp picked thyme leaves (fresh) or other herbs if desired (optional)
• 65g whole wheat flour (1/2 cup)
• 2 eggs
• 50g aged white cheddar, coarsely grated

to serve (optional!)

• salted butter
• jam of choice

Preheat the oven to 400F.

In a saucepan, warm the water, milk, salt and butter until the butter is fully melted. Bring to a boil, add the flour and quickly mix in with a wooden spoon. Lower the heat and continue to cook the mixture until it forms a ball. Remove the pastry from the heat and let cool a bit before adding the eggs one at a time, beaten into the pastry most easily with the aid of a wire whisk. The dough should now be shiny, but not fluid. If still quite hot, let cool until room temperature, and mix in the herbs, some ground black pepper, followed by the grated cheese. I’ve found that the gougères don’t puff as well if the cheese melts when mixed into the hot dough, so let it cool!

Transfer the pastry to a piping bag fitted with a large round tip (or no tip is fine too!). Pipe six mounds of pastry, around 3-4 tbsp in size (or about 6cm in diameter by 2-3cm in height) evenly spaced on a sheet pan lined with parchment paper. Sprinkle with a generous pinch of coarse salt. While it’s tempting to sprinkle these with grated cheese, I’ve found it impedes their rise and causes a bit of collapse. Great for small gougères, not so great for giant gougères.

Bake for around 30-35 minutes or until deeply golden brown. If they’re browning relatively evenly, I would not bother rotating the tray. If they’re browning very unevenly, wait until a a brown crust is formed (at least around 25 minutes) before rotating them near the end to minimize risk of collapse.

As soon as you can handle them, cut a slit in the bottom of each puff to let the steam release and let cool on a wire rack.

Best still slightly warm on their own, or with salted butter and jam.

rosemary & gruyère sourdough brioche

If we were to try to summarize the state of my sourdough starter Bartholomew, “criminal neglect” would be an accurate term to use. But recently my sourdough starter has been the happiest and liveliest it has ever been. And no, it’s not because I have taken on the mantle of pandemic sourdough baking. Rather, my mum has. And she has also taken to the task of keeping Bartholomew fed and watered with gusto.

I feel a bit jealous sometimes – a companion I created in eighth grade, living up life under someone else’s care and seeming all the more happier for it. But sometimes if you love someone, you’ve got to let them go.

And more than I am jealous, I am lazy so all in all it’s a relief. The situation has been rather convenient – upon spontaneously deciding I want to do a bit of sourdough baking, I can borrow some bright and bubbly starter. (This, as opposed to opening the jar for the first time in months to find a layer of sludge laying below an inch of alcohol, necessitating a week-long pampered revival before Bartholomew deigns to leaven even the smallest bun.)

While I don’t always love the taste of sourdough in sweets, I do love it in savoury applications, and particularly in those with cheese where a bit of tartness goes well! This recipe makes a small batch of buttery buns spotted with pockets of melted cheese. It’s a cozy food for sure – the buns themselves are tucked snug in a loaf tin, and they eat best pulled apart while warm.

rosemary & gruyère sourdough brioche bun loaf

• Servings: 8 buns
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Adapted from Duchess at Home by Giselle Courteau; here I’ve made the bread a bit bigger, partially whole wheat and converted to sourdough along with other minor changes. I found I prefer this bread slightly leaner as well – the cheese adds plenty of additional richness!

• 100g whole wheat flour
• 100g bread flour (you can approximate bread flour as 95g all-purpose + 5g wheat gluten)
• 3g kosher salt
• 50g bubbly and active sourdough starter at 100% hydration (if yours is the more somnolent sort, feed it the night before and let it sit out on the counter overnight)
• 20g whole milk
• 2 eggs
• 80g soft butter
• 1 tbsp finely chopped fresh rosemary
• 60g gruyère, cut into small cubes (or substitute other cheese of choice – I’ve also done this with old cheddar)
• beaten egg for egg wash

In the bowl of a stand mixer, whisk together the flours, gluten (if using) and salt. Add the sourdough starter, milk and eggs and mix until a rough dough is formed. Then use the dough hook to knead the dough for a few minutes until smooth. The dough will feel a bi sticky until you begin to incorporate the butter.  

With the dough hook, add a bit of the butter at a time, working in each addition until the dough is smooth. Continue until all the butter is incorporated. The dough will become more elastic and smooth and not quite as sticky as more butter is incorporated. If the dough is still a bit too sticky, incorporate a bit more flour as needed. Knead the dough on a medium setting for another ~10 minutes to develop the gluten. Add the rosemary and gruyère and knead until incorporated. Cover the dough with a damp kitchen towel and let rise until puffed. This will take a while depending on the vigour of your sourdough starter – it took mine around 6-8 hours (expect longer as an enriched dough like this tends to rise slower).

Butter a loaf pan and with a parchment paper sling. Transfer the dough to a very lightly floured surface and divide into eight portions. Shape each into a ball, and tighten the surface tension by cupping your hand over each ball of dough and rotating your hand in small circles.

Arrange them balls of dough in the loaf pan – they’ll be barely touching. You can proceed directly to a final rise, or put the dough, covered, in the fridge overnight. Next day remove from the fridge and allow the dough to rise until puffed and the balls of dough have grown such that they’re touching along all edges (about 6 hours for me).

Remove from the oven and cover while you preheat the oven to 425F. Brush the loaf with eggwash and sprinkle with a bit of coarse salt. Pop in the oven and turn the temperature down to 400F. Bake for around 15-20 minutes or until nicely browned. The buns are best the day they are made.

Updated Apr 2023 and again in Oct 2023.