Carrot Cake Cupcake!

I have a thing for food that comes in a small package. 

I guess it's just the cute factor. Mini pies, mini tarts (tartelettes sound even cuter), mini cakes, mini lasagnas...If I can make a baby version of something, I'd make it! That's not exactly why I made this dessert though, which is essentially carrot cake in cupcake form. Nope. I had a whole different reason.

In fact, I almost always have the same reason for cooking something: my mood. While other women show their change of mood through their choice of skirts or pants, mine translates to what gets served on the dinner table. I guess that's why my pantry is always well-stocked -- it has to be ready to serve two or three different moods at a time.

When I feel like retrieving to my comfort zone -- whether it's because I'm having exam pressure, or just feeling a little blue, or extremely exhausted -- I reach out for something comforting and warm, like mushroom risotto or chicken porridge. There is the occasional moment when only chocolate will do, in which case I'll turn to a cup of very rich and very dark hot chocolate.

When I feel upbeat, which often coincides with summery weather, I whip up something bright and sunny, like pasta with fresh vegetables. Bright colors and bold flavors will be on the menu, accompanied by a jug of chilled lemonade. 

When I feel excited, or on top of the world (things going well at the work front, perhaps), I strangely go for something spicy or, um, "ethnic". I will intuitively crave something Mexican, or Indonesian, or anything with a bit of a kick (or a lot). If you have an explanation for that, please give me a call! And when I'm, what's the word, going bananas over a guy? Well, that moment calls for a Hainanese chicken rice, complete with all the trimmings. If you're a guy (and not one of my guy friends!), and you find yourself struggling to finish a huge spread of Hainanese chicken rice at my dining table, be very suspicious that I have a huge crush on you. And if there's dessert, be very suspicious. If there's no dessert...I probably am just tired. I'm not that picky ;)

And when I'm having one of those moods -- spectacularly happy, permanent-grin-on-my-face kind of happy, the kind of mood that makes everything look pastel-colored.....The kind of mood that makes you understand La Vie en Rose ("Life in pink? that TOTALLY makes sense").....The kind of mood that makes every romantic comedy enjoyable no matter how much Hollywood has robbed it off its originality.....That calls for something cute, sweet, creamy and pretty. One way or the other it usually involves a guy. Vanilla, butter and sugar are usually in there somewhere. A guy, vanilla, butter and sugar...Can't go wrong with those.

Hence the Carrot Cake Cupcake today. That was my mood showing through.

Not just because I had extra carrots in my fridge.

Carrot Cake Cupcake

Makes 20 cupcakes

Adapted from www.jamieoliver.com

• 250g unsalted butter, softened
• 250g light brown soft sugar
• 5 large eggs, separated
• zest and juice of 1 orange
• 170g self-raising flour, sifted
• 1 slightly heaped teaspoon baking powder
• 100g ground almonds
• 100g chopped nuts (almonds/walnuts/cashews) plus a handful for sprinkling
• 1 heaped teaspoon ground cinnamon
• a pinch of ground cloves
• a pinch of ground nutmeg
• ½ teaspoon ground ginger
• 250g carrots, peeled and coarsely grated
sea salt

for the orange mascarpone icing:
• 100g mascarpone cheese
• 200g cream cheese
• 85g icing sugar, sifted
• zest of 1 large orange

Preheat the oven to 180ºC/350ºF/gas 4. Line the cupcake pan with cupcake wrappers. Beat the butter and sugar together by hand or in a food processor until pale and fluffy. Beat in the egg yolks one by one, and add the orange zest and juice. Stir in the sifted flour and baking powder, and add the ground almonds, nuts, spices and grated carrot and mix together well.

In a separate bowl, whisk the egg whites with a pinch of salt until stiff, then gently fold them into the cake mix. Scoop the mixture into the cupcake wrappers and bake for about 20-22 minutes until risen. You can check to see if the cupcakes are cooked by poking a cocktail stick into one. Remove it after 5 seconds and if it comes out clean the cake is cooked; if slightly sticky, it needs a bit longer, so put it back in the oven. Leave the cupcakes to cool completely on a wire rack.

Mix all the icing ingredients together and spread generously over the top of the cake. Finish off with a sprinkling of chopped walnuts.

Aubergine Parmigiana

Today I found out that shit happens.

I mean, I've always known that bad things happen...There's a whole spectrum of bad things that can happen to you, from things that ruin your day like a careless cyclist who hits your car and leaves a tiny dent, to things that can break your heart in the best and worst way that anything can break your heart. You know what I'm talking about. 

I've always known, just by the simple powers of observation, that best friends break up, people die of hunger, businesses go bankrupt and babies die for no reason at all. I know. But somehow I managed to make my way through life for 24 grand years without letting any of the bad things get the best of me. Oh sure, I wept, I got upset, I threw stuff. But I never let these things turn me into someone bitter, or scared, or timid. "Oh wow," you're thinking, "The optimism and arrogance of the youth."

Yeah, I guess. But it was also the naivety of the youth. I'd always been one of those naive children who embraced life for everything that it was. I saw challenges like everyone else, but I'd always thought, "Oh, it'll be fine." And even if it wouldn't be fine, I'd survive and be cheerful again after, like, 20 minutes. As someone once so perfectly described, I "propelled forward through life, hitting bricks and walls on my way, but always going forward nonetheless." Life was a big, bold adventure, and my mind selectively chose to remember the good memories over the bad. There was nothing zen about my upbeat outlook, it was just the pure fearlessness of a child trapped inside an adult's body.

And then life threw me one of those surprises, because that's just what life does. You know what I'm talking about. Total road kill. Heart leaping from a cliff into thin air, then crashing spectacularly into the ground. Heart pulp. Your belief system suddenly not being so believable anymore. Your comfort zone way, way far behind. One of those moments in life when no amount of motivational quotes or Ben and Jerry's or supportive friends can help you.

Shit happens.

And you find out that suddenly you're not so fearless anymore, not so charmingly naive, not so...innocent, perhaps. Suddenly you're a reluctant, scared, worried, and tired adult like everyone else. What's an adult to do? Well, it took a lot of long walks and absent moments spent staring at my laptop screen, but I think the answer is faith. When blind naivety doesn't save you anymore, faith can. Faith requires the patience and wisdom of an adult, which is probably why that was not the first resource I tapped into when I was faced with fears before. 

Faith to me means believing that things will be fine even if you don't know how or why or when. It's believing that there's a just government above who will protect you, love you and guide you when you ask it to...and when you listen. Faith means surrendering to the knowledge that there's no such thing as certainty or total control. It's knowing that shit happens all the time, but that you have it in you to guide yourself through the mess.

Do I feel a pang of sadness about growing up? Oh, sure. Instead of channeling Cinderella as a child (Girl sings with rats and birds, girl mops the floor, girl falls in love with a guy who can't remember what she looks like after dancing the whole night with her?....Come on), I could always relate better with Peter Pan and the Lost Boys. I never wanted to grow up! I wanted to live in a pastel-colored world. But perhaps I'm more like Wendy than Peter Pan -- I must return to the real world where the colors come in a far wider spectrum. But I'm pretty sure I still get to keep a little childishness in me.

And now...eggplants. Because loss of innocence and limp vegetables are TOTALLY correlated.

Aubergine Parmigiana

For 6 servings

Recipe adapted from www.jamieoliver.com

- 3 large firm aubergines
- olive oil
• 1 onion, peeled and finely chopped
• 1 clove garlic, if you can get it, peeled and finely sliced
• 1 heaped teaspoon dried oregano
• 2 x 400g tins good-quality plum tomatoes
• sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
• a large handful of fresh basil
• 4 large handfuls of freshly grated Parmesan cheese
• 2 handfuls of dried breadcrumbs
• a little fresh oregano, leaves chopped

optional:
• 1 x 150g ball of buffalo mozzarella

Remove the stalks from the aubergines and slice them up into 1cm thick slices. Get a dry pan really hot. 

Put 2 or 3 glugs of olive oil into another pan on a medium heat. Add the onion, garlic and dried oregano and cook for 10 minutes, until the onion is soft and the garlic has a tiny bit of colour. If you’re using tinned tomatoes, break them up and give the mixture a good stir, then put a lid on the pan and simmer slowly for 15 minutes.

Meanwhile, grill the aubergines on both sides until lightly charred – you may have to do them in batches. As each batch is finished, remove them to a tray and carry on grilling the rest until they’re all nicely done. When the tomato sauce is reduced and sweet, season it carefully with salt and pepper, and add the basil. You can leave the sauce chunky or you can purée it.

Get yourself an earthenware type dish. Put in a small layer of tomato sauce, then a thin scattering of Parmesan, followed by a single layer of aubergines. Repeat these layers until you’ve used all the ingredients up, finishing with a little sauce and another good sprinkling of Parmesan. I like to toss the breadcrumbs in olive oil with a little freshly chopped oregano and sprinkle them on top of the Parmesan. Sometimes the dish is served with torn-up mozzarella on top, which is nice too.

Place the dish in the oven and bake at 190°C/375°F/gas 5 for half an hour until golden, crisp and bubbly. It’s best eaten straight away, but it can also be served cold.