For the few weeks I was on vacation last year, I had a morning routine – I’d bolt out of bed in the morning hoping I wasn’t too late, rush to the little boulangerie around the corner and buy a small loaf of pain aux céréales for breakfast.
It wasn’t the closest boulangerie and I’m sure theirs wasn’t the best pain aux céréales in Paris, but I loved the little shop because the woman was kind and engaging, and I got to practice my very limited French on her.
I also loved the novelty of the boulangerie being across the street from a Vanessa Bruno store, it felt very ‘Paris’.

Still, the bread was very good, grainy and crusty on the outside; soft, pillowy with holes and perfectly seeded on the inside.
I’d have it with tea, sliced thick and slathered generously with butter and jam, or with my favourite discovery, speculoos butter.

Ask any Parisian and they’ll probably say Eric Kayser makes the best pain aux céréales in the city; David Leibovitz called it ‘perhaps the best bread in the world’. I’ll definitely be testing that on my next visit.

In the mean time I’m making my own seeded breads at home…
I must warn you, my version of pain aux céréales isn’t authentic, not that I can say what is authentic.

I use my bread machine and my trusted bread recipe and throw in some seeds – two tablespoons each of flax, quinoa, millet and sunflower seeds.
Try this recipe here for a close to authentic version, although I do love how my loaves turn out – grainy and tasty, the nuttiness from the seeds is subtle and just perfect.

And for breakfast on Saturday mornings… I’m transported back to that little apartment where everything tastes better and extraordinary, even the simplest meal of bread and tea.

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These last few days, I’ve been miserable – my immune system seems to be winning the battle against the pollen.
I just wish I could send it a message to quit it already with this unnecessary warring since my allergy medicine can’t seem to get the job done.
And as if that wasn’t bad enough, I’ve been sick – real sick… I spent this weekend with a cold – is that even possible, can I get a cold and seasonal allergies concurrently?
So I spent this weekend in this weird wired space where life is unhurried and my mind wanders.

My dreams were of a long winding dirt road that leads to a small house on a mound, and beyond are the mango groves; under the bluest skies with billowy clouds that hang so low you can almost touch them.
I slept all day Saturday and had nourishing lentil soup from one of my favourite downtown restaurant.
My dreams again that night were of mangoes, sweet, sticky, pulpy, smooth and rich.

So while I recuperate and gather my strength, I’d like to leave you with this mango nut bread – because something had to come of these dreams.
If you’re lucky enough to get real mangoes, use them (about two of them), and perhaps toast the coconut flakes for few minutes before you use them in the batter – it makes all the difference.

Maybe it’s the delirium, but this is a wonderfully vibrant bread – and I love it dearly.

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It’s my sister @adjoa’s birthday in a few hours; and I’ve spent a bit of time trying to come up with the perfect gift.
We aren’t big birthday people, our birthdays were never really ‘celebrated’ even as kids – there were no parties, or cakes or ponies or tiaras.
Over the years we’ve managed to settle into a comfortable place where birthdays are commemorated handsomely without feeling like we’re making up for lost time.
We try to stick to the norm, although it doesn’t always work out – I was lost in a sea of cards this afternoon determined to find the perfect birthday card, none truly said what I wanted to say, they were either too syrupy, not germane, unfunny or downright depressing.
I went back to think on it at my desk, and later in the day… in lieu of a birthday card I went downstairs and got the new Kinfolk volume 3.

This malted milk cake isn’t a birthday cake per se; it’s a union of nostalgia items from my pantry.
The idea for this cake came to me a couple of weeks ago while discussing favourite childhood treats, I’m not sure where the conversation was headed but I remember thinking ‘what if we could take some of our favourite things from childhood and bake them into a cake’

And so we made ourselves a little cake with a bit of nostalgia baked into it; my mom’s soothing cup of hot Horlicks, those rare lazy hot afternoons we snacked on Maltesers, and the childhood decadence of thick custard puddings with spongy vanilla cake.

We wavered at the start… but then when we got a rich batter that tasted like salted caramel ice cream, we knew we were on to something.
A cake most deliciously light and fluffy, just sweet with that subtle malted milk flavour.
Perfect for that un-birthday dessert!

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One of my favourite restaurants in the city closed its doors for good a year and the half ago.
It was a charming unpretentious trattoria nestled among other fine restaurants and bars on Yaletown’s Hamilton Street.
The menu was mainly from the Emilia – Romagna region of Italy and I went mostly for the gnocchi and tiramisu
I guess I went a little for the service too; the space was welcoming, and the staff personal and attentive.
The owner remembered my name the second time I dined there, and that’s how I knew I’d keep going back.

Dinner usually started with a moist and dense fresh-out-of-the-oven-warm bread, I could never get enough of that delicious bread.
I asked the owner once for the recipe (I do this quite a bit at restaurants) he laughed and said he’d have something even spectacular for next time and that’s the recipe he’d want me to have.
He kept his word, the next time I was at the restaurant I had the specially made olive and rosemary focaccia – flavourful, moist, herbaceous and oh so scrumptious! It’s all I wanted to eat for the rest of my life.

I never did get that recipe, and incidentally stopped eating out as much when I decided to take my vegetarianism a step further by going dairy-free
I didn’t visit that restaurant for almost two years and then one day when I really wanted to go I learnt that the restaurant had closed months before.
I can’t think of focaccia and not think about that wonderful little restaurant that is no more, and when I found this particular olive and rosemary focaccia, I couldn’t wait to get to the kitchen to try it.

This bread turned out wonderful, honestly, I don’t really remember the exact taste of the focaccia I had years ago, but I know this is pretty close…

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I’d like to talk about recipe disasters first before I get into this awesome (but slightly flawed) cranberry oat and honey bread.
When I started this little culinary adventure, my goal was to at least try a new recipe a week.
As you can probably guess, when it comes to trying out new recipes, I’ve had my share of failures – I’ve been assured that this happens to everyone.

There are many reasons why recipes fail, and for me, most of the time it’s usually because of something I did (or didn’t do)
I will be honest here as I’m not one lay undue blame on other people (unless you’re my parent, then it’s all your fault!)
90% of the time, it’s my fault the recipe failed, and that’s because as my mom would say “I don’t listen”.

Because my diet is typically plant-based, I make a lot of substitutions, especially when it comes to baking; ground flax or banana replaces eggs, and nut-milk usually replaces dairy.
While this works out great most of the time, there are limits… like, if a recipe calls for a dozen eggs; chances are substituting those for flax will result in horrible failure.

Following instructions used to be another one; I’ve gradually come to understand that following the simplest of instructions saves you so much heartache in the end – like, if the recipe says bake at 350 for 40 minutes, don’t be a smartass and bake at 375 for 30 minutes because you’re in a hurry, chances are, you’ll end up with a lovely looking cranberry oat and honey bread with an uncooked middle.

One very simple thing I’ve learned that also helps avert recipe disasters is planning; the French have a phrase for it; mise en place – have your ingredients prepared and ready before you begin.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve in a rush made bread and forgotten the yeast!

I was gifted with several pounds of fresh cranberries over the holidays, I kept them in the freezer while I googled ‘what can you make with fresh cranberries?’, eventually I found this cranberry oat and honey bread.

I made it hastily one night to take on a hike. The next morning I cut three slices… the fourth slice was soft and still gooey in the middle. I salvaged what I could, cut the half-baked part into thin slices and put them back in the oven, the results was something resembling a poor man’s Raincoast Crisps, still delicious but not what I was going for.

So the take away here is that when it comes to this bread, don’t be like me, stick to the cooking instructions and let it cook through. Do insert a toothpick in the center and make sure it comes out clean before you take it out of the oven, because it’s a wonderful, wonderful bread.

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