I've been meaning to post the winner of my Menu for Hope prize - a tasting menu dinner with wine pairings at the Chateau Marmont hotel restaurant - and now am finally getting around to it. I'm happy to announce that Todd and Diane, of White On Rice Couple fame, will accompany me for a fabulous night of food and vino. Thanks to everyone who bid on this prize and for everyone who took part in this year's charity auction. We raised $62,206.86 - not too shabby considering the current economy!!!
First of all, there are no oysters involved in this recipe, so breathe a sigh of relief. Cinnamon Oysters are actually an incredibly light, fluffy cake filled with whipped cream. These made their debut in the 1951 League of Mothers' Cookery Book and Household Hints, and the recipe was contributed by a Mrs. Douglas Brown of Anderson's Bay in Dunedin, New Zealand.
I made these for a holiday dinner I had last year and they were a huge hit. Because they are so sponge-like and light, they make the perfect dessert after a decadent or heavy meal. Since I don't have "patty tins" I just used a miniature muffin pan instead, and they turned out perfectly.
Cinnamon Oysters
(adapted from Cuisine magazine)
For flouring tins:
1 TBS flour
1 TBS caster sugar
For the cakes:
2 eggs
3 TBS caster sugar
2 TS golden syrup (or honey)
3.5 TBS flour
1 TS cinnamon
1/4 TS baking soda
1 TS ground ginger
Filling:
1/4 pint of cream, whipped
Preheat the oven to 350°F/180°C. Lightly grease mini muffin tin with butter, then sift the 1 tablespoon flour and 1 tablespoon caster sugar over it. Turn tray upside down over the sink and tap it to remove the excess.
For the cakes: Warm the mixing bowl (I just did this with hot water) and break in the 2 eggs.Using an electric mixer, beat the eggs, adding the sugar gradually until the mixture is extremely light and fluffy. Pour in the slightly warmed golden syrup and keep beating for at least another 5 minutes. When you lift the beaters out, the mixture should fall in ribbons and remain on the surface for several seconds before sinking. Sift the dry ingredients, including the baking soda, onto the egg mixture, and fold them in very gently using a large spatula, turning the bowl as you go. Spoon the mixture into the prepared tins and bake for 8-10 minutes.
Remove from the oven and leave to cool for a couple of minutes until the cakes shrink away from the tins a little. They can be a bit tough to get out, so turn out carefully, loosening them if necessary with a round-bladed knife. Cut a slit in the side of each cake with a small serrated knife, and spoon or pipe in some whipped cream. Dust with icing sugar and serve. Makes 12.
A view of the Danube River from a bridge in Regensburg, Germany at dusk.
Ice forms on the Danube.
My friend Sandra, with her employee Fatma, inside her shop in Regensburg.
A trio of revelers on New Year's Eve watch the fireworks outside.
Kicking off 2009 on the streets of downtown Regensburg.
A typical afternoon snack of a chocolate biscuit and espresso.
A homecooked pasta with pancetta, onions and tomato.
We poked our heads inside this church during one of our long walks along the river.
Ice on a manhole cover.
Maverick chef extraordinaire - Chef Helmut. 
My friend Sandra spent her youth in the small village of Thanstein, in northern Bavaria. She lived in what some would call a castle, as it is one of the oldest houses in town and it is very big (and a bit scary at night!).
We visited her old home, which is now occupied solely by her father. The place is impressive; the sturdy, thick wooden doors, the spiral staircase, the long hallways with door after door. The whole house is heated by wood furnaces, which are built into the walls.
Sandra says that the whole town believes that the house is haunted, mainly due to the fact that the previous owner had told everyone that she often found her furniture moved around when no one had been there.
While Sandra said that she nor any of her family members experienced such a phenomenon, she did sometimes feel a presence around. She said that many people who've spent the night have said the same thing, and though I couldn't put my finger on anything specific, I had a very long sleepless night at that house. BTW, she told me after the long night about potential ghost, so I was unaware of any haunting when I went to bed that night.
Regardless of the possible presence of something strange, I really enjoyed my time at the house. During the day it's beautiful and cozy, in spite of its size. The house is filled with all kinds of interesting things that her father collects: tea canisters, retro advertising signs and antique furnaces.
On Sunday afternoon, her father made us a typical German meal: knudle with a roasted pork. Knudle is a potato dumpling that can be made with many fillings, and is usually served with a gravy and some meat.
Sandra's father made a simple but delicious knudle, each with a little bread crouton in the center. He served it with braised pork and a thin, savory gravy. The whole meal was perfect for the freezing weather and I enjoyed every bite. I'm hoping he'll send me the recipe!
Words can't really express how beautiful and romantic the city of Prague really is, so I'll stick to letting the photos speak for themselves (with captions to put each one into context). I absolutely fell in love with the city and will definitely make a trip back someday.
The spiral staircase at the Hotel Josef, where I stayed. The "design hotel" was located right in the heart of the city and I thoroughly enjoyed my stay there.
In the mood for something a bit lighter than Czech food, we opted for a few appetizers at La Provence, including these yummy escargot.
The steak tartar was mixed with minced onions, pickles and capers and served with toast points. It was perfect.
Prague at dusk, quite possibly the time of the day that best displays the intricate architecture of the city's old buildings.
Ah, Absinthe - the real stuff! You can walk into any good absinthe store and have a taste. Just be careful not to overdo it!
A total revelation: peas and shallots in a tangy vinaigrette topped with fresh burrata cheese and drizzled with olive oil. The combination was divine and I will be recreating it for many dinner parties in the future. This dish was also at LaryFary.
I always had an image of what Germany would be like, and, more importantly, what German people would look like. Images of rosy-cheeked, robust women named Helga typically came to mind, but when I arrived in Regensburg I was surprised to see many thin, statuesque women and athletic, chiseled men. Certainly not disappointing, but nothing like I'd imagined.
But in Kallmunz, a municipality of Regensburg, I found my Helga. I don't know what her real name is, but she was stocky, a bit mean and kept a very tidy kitchen at the the tiny but infamous Zum Burftenbinder restaurant. She plays many roles here: cook, hostess, waitress, busperson. And she does it all with a "don't f*ck with me" attitude.
The speciality at her little place is the bauchstecherla, a pasta-type concoction made from potatoes. The menu is simple: there are five types of bauchstecherla (with bacon, with onion, with sausage, etc.) and the basic sausage and kraut dish, plus beer and sodas. That's all they do here, and people from all over come to this place for their special dish.
Helga (I'll just refer to her as such since I do not know her real name) took our order in her curt but somehow endearing fashion and immediately got to work. We could hear the sizzle of the bacon grease and smell the sweet scent of caramelizing onions as Helga worked diligently in the kitchen.
The dish, which I ordered with bacon and onions, was absolutely perfect. Crispy on the outside, chewy on the inside, the bauchstecherla was somewhat like a gnocchi but a bit more dense. The crispy/chewy flecks of onion went beautifully with the soft bacon (more like Canadian bacon than the U.S. variety). That Helga can cook!
The restaurant itself is small, probably seating at most 20 people. It's clearly a local favorite, as I saw several patrons who were obviously regulars. A newspaper, a dark beer and a plate of bauchstecherla seemed all that anyone there needed. And of course a bit of sass from Helga.
I'm still a bit jet lagged from my trip but I wanted to share one of my favorite moments from my recent visit to Germany and the Czech Republic. My first stop was Regensburg, which is in the Bavaria region, and home to my former college roomie and Bavarian native Sandra. The town is one of few that was not destroyed by any wars and many of the historic buildings have been preserved or restored over the years. It's a beautiful area with fantastic architecture and, of course, amazing food!
The best meal I had in Regensburg was at Wurstkuchl, a sausage restaurant overlooking the Danube River. The building that houses the restaurant is 850 years old, and the now-famed sausages started being served there in the 1800s. Everyone orders the same thing: a plate of sausages with sauerkraut, which is served with a side of famous Regensburg mustard and a basket of rye rolls. The food is simple, rustic and delicious. I ate this entire plate, plus two rolls - it was that good!
Even with temperatures hovering around 19 degrees that day, there was a long line of people waiting to get orders to go and we got the last table in the tiny restaurant. If you are ever in Regensburg, this is an absolute must. In fact, if you are in Munich - an hour's drive away - make it a point to get to Wurstkuchl for the sausages!
