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Remember wandering in the tall city, stubborn waiting for him, either Shaohua evanescent, see everything vicissitudes, bustling lonely, love has Cream!

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L'Opera...Do I Dare?


I think in all my time as a Daring Baker (which hasn’t been that long, admittedly), I have been waiting for this challenge. Not this challenge in particular, but a challenge like this. Oh, I do love bread and sticky buns and cake and all...but there in the back of my head lies the dream of making something...patisserie-esque. You know what I mean, something pretty and chic-sounding, something you would find in your neighbourhood French-style patisserie (unless you live in France, in which case it would be a real live French patisserie, in which case lucky you!), something that I am never brave enough to attempt. Something that would make me feel like Audrey Tautou in the mood to whip up something sweet preamp. Yes, I know this French girl fixation has got to stop.

But not today! No, for today we make L’Opera!

As much as I was thrilled at this month’s challenge, I was also shaking in my black ballet flats. This little cake had five parts and five parts in one cake is still a daunting task for me! But I wasn’t backing down because: 1. I wanted to earn French points in the kitchen**, 2. I already pointed out what L’Opera was to C in our neighbourhood patisserie brazenly telling him that I would make it, and 3. I’m a Daring Baker ;)

The syrup – This was the first thing I made as it can be made way in advance. I flavoured it with some vanilla-infused vodka which was given to me by my friend M. I met her through blogging so I thought it fitting to use her fabulous infusion for a blogging event :)

The buttercream – My first time! Much trepidation here as I thought of hot syrup going into the whirling eggs in the mixer. I am happy to report that all went swimmingly! It came together like a charm and oh-my-lord the smell. Spoons and spatulas were definitely licked. I’ve made buttercream...yeah!

The joconde – Yes, another snazzy French name. You can imagine how thrilled I was to make it! I loved how this almond-based cake turned out. Light and fluffy and soft...a major achievement for me. I think this also had to do with my using a metal spoon to fold...a tip from Donna Hay to avoid deflating your whipped egg whites!

The white chocolate ganache/mousse – This was optional but I wasn’t about to scrimp. I wanted layers! This was a simple whipped cream type mousse – quick and easy to make. I flavoured it again with M’s vanilla/vodka infusion custom embroidery.

The glaze – A simple white chocolate glaze.

Assembly – This is the fun part because all the hard work is done. Joconde, brush with syrup, top with buttercream, another piece of joconde, more syrup, more buttercream, the last layer of joconde, more syrup. A nap in the fridge. Top with ganache/mousse. Another longer nap in the fridge. Top with glaze. Yet another nap in the fridge. Slice! Photograph! Eat!

The more traditional Opera is made with dark chocolate (or coffee), but for this month we have lightened things up! The only rule for the challenge was no dark colors/flavours...everything should be light and bright! I could have gone with light pink (very tempting...pink is my favorite color!) or yellow, flavouring with fruit or honey or liqueur, but I decided to leave everything as white as I could. A white chocolate and vanilla Opera...I wonder how that would sound?

I am very happy to dedicate this month’s challenge to Barbara of winosandfoodies.com – not only is she daring in many ways, she is also a source of inspiration to many (myself included). If there is someone deserving of an Opera full of light it’s you Barbara! Wish we could share a slice of this over a cup of tea and a long chat! :)

Please check our hosts’ sites for the complete recipe: Ivonne, Lis, Fran, and Shea! And for a gugillion versions of this cake go to the Daring Bakers blogroll bioderma matricium :)

**Ok, I was too scared to decorate it and make it nice and tra-la-la...one step at a time! Simplicity will have to do for now. This challenge did move me to buy my first ever palette knife and offset spatula (gasp-gasp, I know) so we will see what the future brings...
PR

Fried Fish with Garlic Lemon Butter Caper Sauce


As I watch little C march out into summer school in her fluffy skirt and sleeveless top (summer!) and her electric blue flats, I realize, once again, how quickly time flies. It seems like only yesterday she was a helpless little thing who would wake up every 2 hours needing to be fed, breath smelling sweetly of milk. Now she is a far from helpless, fiercely independent little firecracker with a seemingly inexhaustible supply of her own opinion. Her breath, suffice to say, does not smell sweetly of milk anymore, and she is, most of the time, breathless and sweaty from how much she runs around (plus, it’s summer!). I want to hang on to every bit of unrestrained laughter, every bedtime story/tuck-in (no matter how much irrational delaying tactics play a part), every sticky hug, every little moment Managed Network.

I’ve never been a motherly person. Little C has been, and still is, the only infant I have ever held in my life. I have never been absolutely confortable with children, and I can’t say, my own aside, that I am now. It still takes me by surprise that it’s taken just this one cherry bomb to turn me into a mother. And of all the things, in these past three years, that I have done with her, the one thing that makes me feel the mother-child connection the most is feeding her.

I don’t mean nursing…although I did do that for the first year of her life. I mean feeding her actual food. The food I make and the food I eat. Carefully picking choice bits from my plate and placing them in her waiting mouth. Especially if I’m doing it with my hands. I feel like I am taking part in a ritual older than time, something billions of mothers did before me. That careful, deliberate, passing on of nourishment.

As soon as the simple days of food introduction where done, and food allergies were ruled out, I tried to give her food that was not too different from what we ourselves ate (just being cautious about salt and sugar). I wanted her to try as much as she could, and to know and appreciate where this food comes from. We would bring her to market (we still do) and show her whole fish and vegetables with the dirt still on them. She loves the fishmongers stall…particularly the live crabs and the fish. And I, in turn, love showing her that fish come in all shapes, sizes, and colors. I don’t know many nursery rhymes or children’s games or arts and crafts, but that I do know. And that I can teach Enterprise Endpoint Backup.

Fried Fish with Garlic Lemon Butter Caper Sauce

Oil for frying
1 large dapa (flounder?), approximately 1 kilo
2 tablespoons flour
Sea salt and freshly cracked black pepper
6 garlic cloves, chopped
2 tablespoons capers
1/4 cup + 2 tablespoons butter
juice from half a lemon


- Season your fish on both sides, and inside the cavity, with salt and pepper. Dust with the flour and shake of excess.
- Heat a frying pan over medium high heat. When hot, add enough oil to cover the bottom of the pan in a thin layer.
- Add the fish gently to the hot oil. Fry until golden brown and then flip to cook the other side. Cook until the other side is likewise golden and the fish is cooked through. Remove from the pan.
- Drain the oil from the pan and wipe dry. Return the pay to the heat and add the butter. When the butter is melted and bubbling, add the garlic. Let the garlic fry until fragrant, this happens fairly quickly. Add the capers and let's this fry for a bit. Remove the pan from the heat ad add the lemon juice. Mix well and transfer the sauce into a dish.
- Serve the fish with the sauce on the side long with some lemon wedges for those who want them.

I used one whole fish here – a dapa (which I think is related to flounder? anyone?) weighing in at almost 1 kilo. This was actually a little too big for my tastes, I like fish to be a bit smaller when fried whole (this size I like baked, or steamed in the oven in this big old covered baking dish I won at a costume party…I was a school teacher). C however loved its meaty abundance. You can use almost any fish for this though. A couple of smaller tilapias would do nicely, or a small lapu-lapu. Or whatever fish is fresh and readily available where you are. You can certainly use fillets as well, although if you are able to get fresh whole fish on the bone I encourage you to do so as they are really delicious reenex.

You can scale the quantities for the sauce up if you expect to use a lot. Actually, I think that would be a good idea. We had this with steaming hot rice and I loved the sauce both smothered on my fish as well as squashed into my rice. It's a notch above regular lemon butter sauce and packs a lot more flavor.

Little C is not the perfect eater, and now that she has her own opinions it is not as easy to get her to try everything, but she does love her fishies, especially if she sees them on the bone. In fact, she seems to enjoy fish best when she sees me picking the meat for her from a whole fish on my plate. And I never feel as “earth mother” as when I am doing just that. That, at least, is one big mission accomplished in my book.

Mom, it snowed

Snow, overnight, the whole city became blanketed by trees, snow shrouded, elegant and tranquil. Walking in the snow, all as still the same, only the sky fluttering snowflakes drifting down, as if weeping and complaining to, just like telling endless worry, every step creak sound and with the heartbeat respiration. Leave a clear footprints behind him, the moment was blowing snow cover, as if the past is locked into the years of growth rings Men clothing brands, or deep or shallow in memory.

Watching the white glare of white eyelashes, fall in the snow, like a mother's hair hurt heart, instant, canthus slide a cold. Want to mother, yes, particularly in the snowy day, mother is I have not put very much.

That year, that same Snow gleams white. a world of ice and snow of winter, the mother sat in the snow sledge, along with dozens of years of the mountain, over a hill, no decent dowry, no mother hand sewing clothes, premature loss of the mother, the father is sick all the year round, not unlike a boys, and the older one little brother, take one family life. The mountain wood, for little sale income to maintain their livelihood, but still often have little food to eat. Brother sister grew up gradually, in order to hungry eyes, ten pounds of rice, a denim jacket, then my work life of the mother, began as Renqi, mother Managed Network, daughter-in-law life. When my mom was eighteen years old, now a sweet as honey's age, the mother has long daughter-in-law identity assume an important role in laws.

After six years of marriage, in the family dominated era background, mother's infertility, bear the father-in-law mother-in-law cold. The production team, the mother did not think of themselves as a woman, desperately one earned two individual points, one carrying two personal courage, in return for the recognition and affirmation family. Inside, the hard and bitter self-evident, one can imagine, but not today we can be realized. And then in the difficult times up and down the country to eat "food", the rough rice bran, wheat bran, with wild herbs is an important day rations, even if it sometimes is difficult to eat ?.

Six years later, the mother with big brother, severe malnutrition, cause her body edema. When the mother really want is the moon cakes, work father carrying grandma and grandpa bought two pieces, or the night mother secretly covered quilt eat, because fear of Grandpa cursed. Then the father only ten yuan monthly salary, must be handed over to Grandpa, Grandpa will be furious if. Over the years, the mother never purchase a piece of clothing, every piece of clothes are off the patch patch mended again and again, even in winter, also does not have a decent shirt to keep warm, so that the elder brother is not the full moon, due to the cold, the mother has not to walk on two legs, swollen cannot bend, pain. Then the father carrying his mother around to see a doctor, finally cured her mother's disease. A strong mother the way that endured life of toil and pain and suffering Chinese business culture.

Tree of nature to branch, shortly after the birth of my brother and sister, grandma and grandpa let parents move another, not a penny, not a grain of rice, and no place to live, parents will temporarily staying in the village an old crowded house, only a quilt, with mother dear tears, through that year the most difficult cold winter.

Live with someone else's house, the house cool, my brother and sister was often bullied, that one day, parents heart taste beyond words. Father went to work, mother not only work on the production team, but also to take care of my brother and sister, work back home, see my brother was sleeping in the kitchen, night, kerosene lamp, mother sewed, secretly do not know to flow how many tears, strong mother silently bear all the home, have no complaints.

The next autumn, with loess off father, built two cottages, didn't have a chance with a finger of the cracks in the wall, but also is reassuring to have their own house to spend the winter. In spring, I went around the corner is a light house was born. The mother often said that I was lucky, not a disease, but rather is the mother's strong gave me a full life, feeling her motherly love. I said and this, mother's eyes are moist. A yellow cat's childhood, and my two in the beam on the rope a plank bolt into swing, is the only friend of my youth, and the two hut, into my life unforgettable memories.

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In the bright moon rises

Fifteen Nakaaki Tsukijungdo, drunk soul dream season.

Returning speech and writing, several lights for people.

The twinkling of an eye and the Mid Autumn Festival, you send the hearts. I had to leave for various cup inclination, yesterday, today has hundred taste play. Go back to sleep and dream, Qing Xiao who with alone. Remember the old man, whose full moon? Acacia hardly, have when to the end of the world. The window that month, that month, pen wind, how can the night short. Mid Autumn Festival moon, who won a few? From Wanli, round the month, the month circlehome organizer online.

In the flower between fog, midnight pillow bank concentration. Read the nostalgia, Acacia night, acacia, Acacia people. Leaves Xiao Xiao, to know how much. A youth gone, two long, is the life of old. The bed the moonlight, immeasurably vast difference can return, laugh at the vanguard, Guanghan Gong Li as gentle. Month wine when poured, standpipe Hengqin, red many things, looking back is chiaki. Left my hometown has ten years, back and forth, waking dream Chihiro, ask the small infinite meaning, who and the boarding?

Far view ink in Zhanghua, near to Jiangchuan such as painting, the scene is still in the next year, can boast? Look at the moon breeze, under these circumstances, most afraid of another two acacia. A monthly water, light gray, thin film to the porch window, holding the pen write your tears ink, etc., to miss the moon slowly dried. Imagine the joy which dawn tonight to worry aloneadd hair.

It was romantic, a few degrees to express indignation, dust song not float Xiao abuse game life, several autumn, bustling through the ages to see a few back? 100 years of life such as rotary cup. The party who is not in the world? For thousands of years in the lofty, to ask people in where? The year eighteen was a dream, all over the world have career said, bustling life, some ups and downs, wry smile are all upside down lane. A muddy wave, in a heavy hook, sleep is undeserved reputation. Sigh, wood amaranth zero, also Zhiqiu spring to this. Long Yin song, the invitation to fill pot, curved and down, with the night and the cup words business registration in hk

The autumn ancient Jun laugh off life, roll off, life how many wind month? In a few people sing. Mo Dao and flower period, the style to make the moon flowers. Mirror month suspension, laugh at the million Jiaxiang music, my world, in the bright moon rises.

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