eggbeater

Eggbeater in the News. shuna fish lydon gets around...

I have always said that my g-d has a sense of humour. If I say never I can be sure to regret it. If I put my feet down and hold on really tight, I can be sure to be pried away and airlifted out. If I think something is beyond my comprehension I might become surrounded by experts in that field, all eager to trade their knowledge for mine. When I think the world has gone black and all the air has been evacuated, good news beyond reproach comes.

They say when one door closes, another one opens.
Some say you need to shed before you can grow.
There are those who believe you're always exactly where you're supposed to be.

Some of us think patterns are important to look at, while a few of us think everything happens because we make choices, even ones which lead us down paths of higher resistance.
A few choice people I've known would say for every challenge a lesson is available to learn, should we wish to pay attention.

I'm sure there are also those who would say every frame of life is unrelated to the previous or next.

Whatever your beliefs, I think you'd be surprised at my own set of circumstances. If nothing else, they've been intriguing... And are soon to get more so.

Until my next update I'd like to catch you up with these tidbits ~

• A Shuna Fish Lydon photo of a savoury chef with a Pig Tattoo can be found in MEATPAPER, The Pig Issue.
• Photos I've taken of Foreign Cinema have been recognized by GQ and might show up there soon.
• The London Times online placed me on their '50 of the world's best food blogs' list  !!!!
• Gourmet magazine recently listed Eggbeater as one of their FAVORITE FOOD SITES! Thank you Ruth Reichl and all the people who make  Gourmet happen on paper and in the vast www!

Thank you to all the people who whispered to my g-d and made this happen. You've all surprised me with wonderfulness I'm not sure I deserve, but I'll take in and appreciate nonetheless.

Don't mind me, I'll just sit here and kvell.

Until after a few deep breaths and I have to meet my next chapter of challenges growth potential experiences.

it's time to hit the refresh button

take it all away {again}
start over
clean house
take a deep breath
dive in.

spring
a time of new
beginnings

Twitter, the new Frontier.

Eggbeater's been gathering a bit of floury dust lately.
It's because Twitter has invaded my life.
Twitter. Just a few words, a sentence or two, short & sweet
or bitter and succinct, ironic or silly, both and neither
fantastic and flirtatious
dope and phat and fly and foxy and sexy and bomb and
narcissistic and generous
haiku and iambic pentameter
professional   practical   networking   advertising
ferocious and shoulder-shrugging
maddening and meandering
jabbering and stream-of-consciousness
educational and voyeuristic
famous   trendy   haughty  conceited   sophomoric
spontaneous and stupid
absolutely, hands-down, definitively, no-doubt-about-it
crazy.

Twitter.

A medium that's exploded, imploded, vomited, fermented, and taken off like wild fire on crazy string.

Why?
Why another thing?
Why does Facebook look like Twitter now?
And who the hell cares, or wants to know, or wants to share or cares to listen
to all your bleeps and woots and tweets and blobs and blurbs and shit?

Well.
Millions of people.
Not that you should join.
Or pay attention. Or log on. Or add to your never ending to-do, to-understand list.

But---
it's where
after 12 - 14 hour shifts, and 70 hour weeks and tired arms and hands and fingers and shoulders and neck and back
I go for a quick fix. A bite of espresso, a drink of food, a catch-up, a flirt, a question or answering/sharing moment.

Twitter is how I keep in touch with chefs and friends and lovers and mentors and heroes and heroines and glitterati and people I've never met and people I've known for ages and family and newspapers and my president and people who randomly lead me to delicious and educational places I don't have time to find on my own.

And if Twitter disappeared tomorrow
we might all have a little bit more time to read books or sleep or walk dogs or swim in oceans or be IRL, as they say.

So Twitter isn't necessary.

But it is pretty nifty.

And if on days where you might be wondering what recipe I'm testing or what job I'm moving to next or where in London is my new favourite place to eat or shop or skulk or photograph
or if you just want to have a little tweetdance yourself
shhhh, no one's watching, no one has to know ~

come aboard. Take a whirl, or a twirl. Or not.

And eggbeater? Something tells me big changes are on the horizon for shuna fish lydon and her marauding alchemist pastry goings on... but it's too soon to speak of.

Let's just say that I look forward to transforming bad news into new challenges = growth experiences. I'll just say, tweet

'every day in the kitchen is one car of many on one long roller coaster ride.'
'is the kitchen's call a siren's song?'

'I'm starting to think years are just broken up into patterns disguised as coincidences.'

''when you're displaced, you have to find home in yourself.' azo

See, talk, tweet with you soon?

London Spring Blossoms

 

eggbeaters beware.

Police: Armed burglars demand man's eggbeater

TAMPA, Fla. (AP) - It really must have been a special item. According to the Hillsborough County Sheriff's Office, two men entered a man's home early Sunday and demanded his eggbeater. One suspect was holding a pistol while the other brandished a knife to the resident's neck.

Police caught the men outside the home and they are being held in Orient Road Jail. One suspect also faces a charge of aggravated assault.

Police found the eggbeater in the man's left pocket.

___

Information from: The Tampa Tribune

March 20, 1968

 

On the First Day of Spring, 41 years ago, one month late and all the fatter for it, to a woman born Susan Gordon and a man called Michael Lydon, {possibly conceived in London, England}, I was born in San Francisco's General Hospital.

Today I am having my very first ever birthday not on the North American continent.

I know it's spring here because flag stone sidewalks are strewn with cherry blossom petals. Tightly wrapped buds of reds and chestnut browns are exploding, quietly but with intent into delicate baby green leaves. I know it's Spring because I've been working with and nibbling rhubarb all week. I wake up to a bedroom filled with warm sun and I know it's spring because dusk has a pink tint instead of a blue one.

I know it's spring because when I look at the sky it feels like possibility and honey perfumes the still cool air of my 2 am walks home. Foxes are travel in pairs during London's surreal Violet Hour. I know it's spring because skirts replace scarves, jackets are folded neatly and put away. Bare arms make a comeback.

I know it's spring because Persephone has walked out of the darkness. Fishes turn into bulls.

Spring as change.
As upset.

Like a game of pick up sticks. Everything just so, gather it all up, toss in the air, keep hands still, watch it fall where it will, look at it anew.
Break it, put it back together.
Walk away, close eyes, open with new perspective.
Look away, look back, but not as close-- refocus eyes.
Think differently.
Love differently.
Change tastes, try something unliked again, turn it over, mash it up, get hands dirty.
Emancipate toes.
Reopen heart.
Have a new crush, flirt, take yourself on a date, dance before everyone else starts dancing, risk rejection, steal kisses, push someone up against a wall,

shout for the sake of shouting, play hide & seek, go on a treasure hunt. Wear something striped.

Spring is new. It's again but slightly different.

I hope something breaks for you today. I gift you with new perspective, possibility, chance taking and the adventure of life.

I'll close my eyes and wish for love, risk, faith, hope and health.
I'll conjure people gone and talk to those still here.

Happy First Day of Spring
~ I hope yours is gorgeous and delicious.

Guinness Chocolate Cake. {the easiest cake. ever.}

My first chocolate cake, like my first kiss, was an unknown, but left me giddy and wanting more. 
My first chocolate cake, like my first kiss, was easier than I thought.
My first chocolate cake, like my first kiss, mixed hot weather and dark chocolate, and needed no major machinery.

And, like kisses, after The First chocolate cake, things got a little more complicated later.

They say baking is easier when you don't know a lot about baking. Innocent. Naive. Openhearted.

Guinness Chocolate Cake reminds me of My First Chocolate Cake. A few tools are all that's needed. And the recipe likes being toyed with. A little more of this and a dash of that works, or get tipsy and substitute one thing for another.

It's all good.

I spent a week testing a number of recipes I found on the www. I used spectacular ingredients and basic ones. I rearranged percentages and threw away the directions. I halved the sugar and tried various flours. I baked in bundt and tiny buttons. I used a convection/fan oven and big deck pizza ovens. I baked in metal and silicone. I baked them tall. I baked them shallow.

And this is what I found out:
The cake batter is really moist. And sticky. All the ingredients are there for a reason, even the ones that seem out of whack proportionally. I got the best results in silicone, filling the cups less than halfway. The batter is really energetic and loves making an absolute mess of your oven.* Sifting the flour is a must. Being able to whisk vigorously is also high on the list. Cake needs a lot of time to be by itself in the oven, without disturbances or else it will have a little terrible temper tantrum. See *

Do let me know what you find out about your version, if you and your cake come to any revelations.

If you want to know why I write recipes with the ingredient first, check out my post on Recipe Writing.

If you need this recipe in OUNCES, make converting your friend. We multiply 1 gram x 28.32 to get ounces. And Celcius x 1.8 +32 = Farenheit

GUINNESS CHOCOLATE CAKE

GUINNESS STOUT   1/2 can {about 250ml}
UNSALTED BUTTER   250 g
SEMISWEET CHOCOLATE CHIPS   100 g

SUGAR   300 g
LIGHT BROWN SUGAR   100 g

SOUR CREAM   120 g
LARGE EGGS   2

ALL PURPOSE FLOUR   225 g
BAKING SODA   1 Tablespoon
SALT    pinch

• preheat oven to 185C
• generously butter and flour an 8 inch cake pan with a piece of parchment on the bottom, or line about 20 cupcake containers
• put wide mouthed pot of water on to boil
• in a wide stainless steel or glass bowl, measure in sliced butter
• on top of butter, measure in chocolate
• set bowl of ingredients over boiling water and lower heat on pot so that water is simmering only
• measure both sugars and salt in another bowl
• sift flour and baking soda and make 'well' in center. the bowl holding these ingredients should be wide and big and at the bottom of the well you should see the bowl
• as chocolate and butter melt, whisk to combine. add Guinness to melty mixture, whisk. when bowl of liquid is hot to the touch, add both sugars at once and whisk
• measure sour cream and eggs in a bowl and whisk to combine fully
• take chocolatey sweet stouty bowl of meltiness liquid and pour sour cream-egg mixture in, whisking as you pour
• take a deep breath
• in the next step you are first pouring then whisking, but not at the same time
• pour a little more than half of liquids into well of drys. WHISK FROM THE MIDDLE -- OUT, in concentric circles RAPIDLY. this is your moment of truth. you don't want lumps and the batter does
• when your batter looks like batter, and you still have a bit of flour clinging to the sides of your master big bowl, pour, INTO THE MIDDLE the rest of your liquid mass. whisk again from the middle - out, making sure to get every last bit of drys in there.
• take a drink
• pour your batter into prepared vessel(s) but make sure batter is not filling said container more than halfway!
• set this prepared pan on a baking sheet lined with a silpat or parchment paper (your dishwasher will thank you later) and place in middle of preheated oven
• set first timer for 20 - 25 minutes and do not disturb cake until then
• your cake might take 10 - 25 minutes longer to bake fully. when the first timer goes off, open oven door slowly and slightly move baking vessel
• cake pan can be rotated ( = turned around so cake bakes evenly) when batter is beginning to set and cake is past the halfway mark
• test cake with skewer or very sharp knife inseted into center. when said object comes out of cake with crumbly bits or when you touch center of cake with your asbestos fingertips and cake bounces slightly back, cake is done
• cool on rack until vessel is warm. run knife around edge and turn out cake to cool the rest of the way

GUINNESS CHOCOLATE CAKE FROSTING
The Head, if you will~

SOUR CREAM   50 g
CREAM CHEESE   150 g  room temperature
ICING SUGAR   120 g
DOUBLE CREAM   125 g

• on a stand mixer with a paddle attachment, mix cream cheese and icing sugar until smooth
• add rest of ingredients and mix until uniform
• taste for seasoning and add more of whaterver else you think it needs

When cake is cool, frost generously with frosting

Cake will keep for 4 days refrigerated & wrapped well. Frosting will keep for one week refrigerated in non-reactive container.

A few more Shuna hints:
I got the best results baking Guinness Chocolate Cake in silicone baking molds. About 20 minutes after taking cakes out of the oven, I placed silicone molds and all into freezer and turned cakes out after at least 2 hours. I kept cakes refrigerated until I frosted them and then asked the bakery not to keep them longer than one day.

This cake is amazing. Not least of all because beer takes on chocolate. Not many flavours can meet chocolate, shake hands, and both come out looking good. It's a really moist cake and eats well. I love how the top gets crunchy and ripply. If you turn Guinness Chocolat Cake upside down and frost the flat side, you get to have the crunchy top stay a fantasic texture.

I hope you'll keep this baby up your sleeve. It's dead easy.

Extreme Baking. Shuna Works London.

On November 10, 2008 I entered the biggest kitchen I've ever worked in. Not by square footage alone,  although working in a factory means just that. We're talking serious production. The 100 quart mixer never stops except when its bowls need to be washed or decanted. Two 20 quart mixers are hot by the end of the night and someone shifts gears on the sheeter (in UK kitchen language it's called The Break) all night long. There are people on my team who hand cut cookies (biscuits) all day every day, not to mention each scone that's also massaged.

The day begins when I want it to. Often a cake will haunt me in my dreams until I can figure it out. I wake blurry and sore, stumble to the kettle, make a strong cup of tea, sort out the day's list, check a bit of email and walk briskly to London's infamous Overground. This crowded train will take me North most of the way, and then I get on a commuter train, getting off after 2 stops.

Our kitchen is hidden. Secretive. Secluded. Mysterious.
I like to say we're sequestered.

Our address is Unit 21 and you must know the secret code on 2 sets of doors to get in. Boys & Girls have 2 separate entrances and even though our locker room is small it doesn't smell of feet. We women are four, all on my team. 

Then there's the uniform. Also like no other I've ever climbed into.
White trousers, white coat, white apron, red hairnet. Inside it we're same: all germless and non-unique. There are even beard nets for those sporting a below the chin shag.

A temporary report gets printed out. A long list of names and codes and numbers, both in sterling and  amounts. Ovens (4) get turned on. ventilation checked. Purchase Orders filed. Trace codes checked. Induction burners (3) plugged in. Scales (4) found and parked. Recipes pulled.

Bowls, spatulas, whisks, rulers, brushes, scissors, baby offset spatulas, knives-- all arranged, put in their places.

Scaling starts. Batch sizes worked out on calculators. Fifty kilos of butter are uncovered-- one 25kg French, the other English. Eggs, yolks and whites get pulled from fridge to take the chill off. Milk and cream too. Room temperature is better.

Cooks, bakers, pastry chefs trickle in. Team is between 10 - 12 daily. Sometimes we're there until 3 am, other days we might get out early at Midnight.

The clock strikes 3:30 and everyone looks around furtively.
The final report is printed. And now all those numbers from the temporary report are real. No arguing them off, no time to turn back now. Three reports come out of the printer. 1. the 48 hour report for products needing lead time. 2. packing sheet. Where all those names go. On which trucks, to what stores and airports and hotels and food halls and supermarkets and restaurants and farmers markets and stores and people and sales samples and gift hampers and and and and. 3. the final report. All accounts must place their orders by 14:30 to get on The Final.

And then we kick it into gear. 0 to 60 in 10 seconds.

Unit 21, Extreme Baking.

Trolleys line up next to the ovens, temperatures fluctuate, hundreds of timers are set throughout the shift and people shout over the din of busy baking. Sometimes the difference of 30 seconds is enough to force a baker to wait with mitts on and count. One Mississippi...

Blink and it's 2000 grams of eggs being poured into a mixer, flash and a batter breaks, breathe in and a batter emulsifies, eyes wide and cake batter swallows an arm scraping to the bottom. A mechanized embrace lowers a foot breaking bowl slowly and another set of shoulders are needed. Heave-ho and said bowl is at belly button level. Four strong arms tilt and pour. Fifth and sixth hands scrape bowl shiny,
and we start again.

Pans are sprayed and lined with perfect square petals of parchment. And hundreds of cakes enter a deck oven once and for all. Silicone saves the day. Pipe in, pop out, pipe in, pop out, and so the baking song goes.

Wash and rinse and scrub and whisk and beat and time and heat and sear and transform. Baking. It's a  love affair that never leaves you.

Our menu is wide and varied. We make 20 amuse bouche and thousands of shortbread, 3 tin cakes and  dozens of dozens of scones, the best English Muffins in London and an exquisite Eccles Cake, rhubarb makes a Spring appearance in a few items and eency weency leek oil roasted grissini are hand twisted and eaten by elite businesspeople on Transatlantic flights.

We make it all. We're everywhere. We transport when London is fast asleep and steal off on night buses floury and spent.

It's baking like I've never done before. Varied and deep, massive and intricate, business oriented and numbers-centric, inspired and inventive, problem solving and on-the-fly and mapped and retested, marketed and undercover, humble and hands-on, familial and loyal, red tape strewn and free from constraint.

It's all of me, here. And yet I'm also struggling not to get lost, which I feel sometimes, especially at the end of the week.

Extreme Baking.

Addiction, sickness or passion? Worth it or all for naught? New sport or siren's call?

I'm not sure, but I hope to make it to the other side.

Guinness, Ireland, Chocolate, Shamrocks & Soda Bread

bunnies, chicks, rabbits & eggs

Hamantaschen for Purim

 they look so innocent.
leetle triangles.
filled with goodness.
hand formed.
delicate dough.
baked to order.
smaller than the palm of your hand.
a few bites.
one brief Jewish Holiday.
Purim.

HAMANTASCHEN.

thousands of them ordered.
sheeting, cutting circles, filling, egg yolk 'glue' washing, forming & sealing, freezing.
just a little cookie.
no harm no foul.

just 4000. that's all.

who needs sleep?

spring fruit & veg

H A P P Y                         MARCH         !