Nov 2008

Pastel de Tres Leches

Pastel de Tres Leches is a traditional Nicaraguan celebration cake. In anticipation of a big win for a certain Barack Obama tonight, I whipped one up this afternoon.

Sponge Cake

  • 1 1/2 cups whole wheat flour
  • 1 tablespoons baking powder
  • 2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
  • 4 eggs, separated
  • 1 1/2 cup sugar
  • 1/2 cup milk

Rum Milk Syrup

  • 1 can evaporated milk (12 oz.)
  • 1 can sweetened condensed milk (14 oz.)
  • 1 can heavy cream (use empty can from condensed milk – 1 1/4 cups)
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 2 tablespoons dark spiced rum (Meyers or Captain Morgan will do), optional

For Sponge Cake:

Preheat oven to 350°F. Grease and flour cake pan, and line with parchment paper.

Sift flour with baking powder and cinnamon.

Using a standing mixer with the whisk attachment, beat egg whites until frothy, then slowly add sugar to tighten whites to semi stiff peaks. Add yolks one at a time.

Alternate adding the flour mixture and the milk.

Pour batter into pan and bake for about 40 minutes or until the middle springs back when touched and edges pull slightly away from pan. Cool thoroughly on a wire rack.

For Rum Milk Syrup:

In a large bowl, combine all ingredients. Whip thoroughly with a wire whisk and reserve. (If made in advance, refrigerate and stir before using.

To Assemble:

Unmold cake while slightly warm, and slice off the hard top with a serrated knife. Place cake on serving platter and spoon rum syrup over cake a little at a time, until it is all absorbed, repeat until all the syrup is used.

Yield: Makes one 10″ x 3″ cake.

Adapted from Epicurious, 2002

Nov 2008

Broken Yolk Café – San Diego

Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day because after hours of solid sleep, my palate wakes up well-rested and game for another delicious day. On the Friday morning before my move to L.A., Cousin Phil took me out for a breakfast of champions at his favorite spot—Broken Yolk Café. Broken Yolk Café does brisk business on the weekends, and hungry breakfast-goers are often greeted with lines out the door. Luckily on our weekday visit, the crowd was thin and under control.

As we walked through the restaurant’s entrance, the host on duty asked if we wanted to dine outside or in. Since the sun was shining brightly and the air smelled of the sea, we settled on al fresco. Although we expected the host to take us to the outdoor seating area on the second floor, he lazily led us to the staircase and handed us menus to take with us. Phil and I are big kids and didn’t have difficulty walking ourselves up the stairs and finding a table, but as a courtesy, he should have guided us to the second floor and properly seated us. Aside from this initial blip in service, the customer care at Broken Yolk Café was friendly and dependable for the rest of our stay.

Whenever I go out for breakfast, I almost always order French toast, because unlike pancakes and omelets, French toast is difficult to prepare well at home (unless one has brioche on hand). Broken Yolk’s French toast is made from three thick slices of brioche, which results in a slightly crisp exterior and fluffy interior. Although the French toast were prepared well, the restaurant’s lack of real maple syrup made for a seriously lacking package. Serving high fructose corn syrup with maple flavoring is a cheap shortcut that demonstrates an establishment’s lack of care and good taste. I can’t wait for the day when real maple syrup is the norm at breakfast places.

Cousin Phil went for his standby—chicken fried steak. A Texas creation, “chicken fried steak is a piece of beef steak (tenderized cube steak) coated with seasoned flour and pan fried. Its name is likely due to chicken fried steak’s similarity in preparation to fried chicken.” The chicken fried steak came doused in gravy; scrambled eggs, buttered toast and hash browns were served on the side.

A connoisseur of chicken fried steak, Cousin Phil ordered an extra boat of gravy to spoon on his tenderized cube steak. Although the combination of thick gravy and fried meat was too rich for me, Cousin Phil was more than pleased with his choice and could never order anything else at Broken Yolk Café.

Broken Yolk Café is a good breakfast place, but they could be more mindful about the little things like seating customers properly and investing in real maple syrup. What makes a casual breakfast eatery great are the small details. But with a tagline like “We’ve Got Huevos” and gratis extra gravy boats to boot, I’m not surprised the customers keep coming back.

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Broken Yolk Café – Pacific Beach
1851 Garnet Avenue
Pacific Beach, CA 92109
Phone: 858-270-9655

Broken Yolk on Urbanspoon

Nov 2008

Bánh Mì and Moving Trucks

The Astronomer is not a casual stargazer. In fact, he takes his science very seriously. After a year of quant-free fun in South East Asia, his brain was more than ready to delve into the rigors of graduate school. The Astronomer flew into San Diego from Birmingham the day before orientation started to pack up our worldly belongings and haul them to our new pad in Pasadena—home of the Rose Parade, Jackie Robinson and Dr. Drew.

Before sending him on his way, we lunched on banh mi, cha gio and che from A Chau, my favorite Vietnamese deli in San Diego. I’ve blogged twice prior (here and here) about A Chau’s wonderful sandwich offerings and continue to sing their praises.

Prices have gone up slightly since my last visit, but only by a quarter or two. The banh mi thit nguoi ($2.25) was solid, and like with all Vietnamese-American offerings, contained a more than generous portion of protein!

The banh mi thit nuong ($2.75) tasted of smoky lemongrass and reminded us of the delicious, stupendous, and fabulous sarnies we downed just a few short months ago.

We also shared three cha gio ($1 for three) because a gas•tron•o•my reader named BAM! once commented that he went out of his way to procure them and that they tasted even better than A Chau’s sandwiches. The Astronomer and I both really dug the cha gio, which was stuffed with pork and carrots, and appreciated that A Chau’s cooks made the extra effort to roll them using rice paper. I never knew the joys of blistered cha gio wrappers until spending time in Vietnam and now I consider them an essential component of the dish.

I also bought a portion of che dau hu la dua ($1.85)—sweet pandan-flavored tofu—because there’s something kinda magical about the subtlety of pandan. The che turned out to be a disappointment because the overall flavor was sweet, rather than pandan. Food coloring can be so tricky! I guess I’ll just stick to the tried and true ginger tofu from now on.

The Astronomer standing proudly on his U-Haul parked in my mom’s driveway.

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A Chau
4644 El Cajon Blvd Ste 111
San Diego, CA 92115-4432
Phone: 619-281-4066

A-Chau on Urbanspoon