Pastries with Pride - An Amazing Honor

We are proud and happy to announce the recent good news that  Executive Pastry chef has been named on of the five shortlisted finalists for Caterer Middle East Awards Pastry chef of the Year 2012..

It is an honor just to be among the list of amazing chefs and a proud moment for the kitchen team.

http://www.hoteliermiddleeast.com/pics-15013-caterer-awards-2012-5-perfect-pastry-chefs-named/

Winner is announced on Sept 26th in Dubai...

and we wish all five finalists best of luck,  !!

With 15 cookbooks to his name over 20 years, Aaron Maree has  been changing the face of Patisserie in  the Middle East with his successful launch of ARABIAN DREAMS cookbook, which won the BEST ARABIC TITLE COOKBOOK IN THE WORLD and was voted One of the Top 57 Cookbooks in the WORLD 2011.

Its a Small World - in pastry !!

When I started cooking in 1983 at Oskars Restaurant on the Gold Coast of Queensland, I looked up to the Executive Chef... GARY MARTIN...he was the most amazing man. When he walked into the room, the air was just different..he had presence and awe. His skills and seriousness about food amazed me.
He was an extremely tough character and at the time I did not appreciate all the things he taught me, years later I understood and thanked him immensely for everything he put me through for those tough lessons are the ones that made me successful and made me remain with the program all these 30 years since.
Some of those lessons are not allowed any more. The world of political correctness and labor rules forbid them. But sometimes we need to learn the tough lessons the hard way to be thankful for everything else..I fear that the softening of our industry will eventually be its demise, but thats for another blog post..

One thing at the time though that seemed most amazing was his friendships of people from around the world.
Remember in 1983 we had never heard of computers, iPads or iPods and anything more advanced than a calculator...
He spoke of travels he had had and he friends with foreign accents stopped by the restaurant continuously to visit.
Today , I too have travelled and have had the pleasure to meet and make friends with many many people from around the planet, but it also much easier today.

People talk of Facebook being a social media , You Tube being a source of enjoyment and blogging being a way to think out a load, but I see it better than that..they are all potential tools for us today as well.

When politicians years before spoke of globalization bringing us all closer together I thought nothing of it. I was not into import export so what did I care.
But today I see the potential.
When I log onto my blog every day I am simply amazed at the breadth of readership and I thank you all for stopping by. Russia, India, Tahiti, Australia, Croatia, France , Philippines, Indonesia, and literally hundreds of other countries show up on the STATS page every single day.
And that makes me realize that while I must impart a sense of my own self on these pages I also have a responsibility to teach a little along the way...Facebook and the friendships I have there are mostly with like minded professionals and has the opportunity for us all, not just to be social but also to use it as a teaching forum. Today I can lecture to the world, by imparting a recipe, a photo and a skills set via you tube and linking it to my Facebook page.
I will start to do such in coming posts. But imagine if we all did this...how amazing the world would be...in cooking, each of us imparting to the friends and those who stop by our blog to teach, to learn and to share the passion..
Globalisation of our career. no need to travel so far to learn or to spend such big dollars to pic up a skill set..
Passion feeding passion and like minded people enhancing the talents of those in the industry who desire to self teach and learn.
I thank each and every person who stops by this page for taking the time. the responsibility i feel is immense and I will return such by teaching more from now on..., recipes and info will follow... it is after all not my desire to hold onto the recipes I have been entrusted with all these years only to see them die with me. they are such brilliantly well tested and proven recipes that everyone deserves to use them.
A recipe after all is merely a list of ingredients, it takes talent, passion and skills to produce something delicious and appetizing from it, and thats where we, the pastry chefs of this world step in...
Have a great day world....and happy cooking. !!!

BANOFFEE PIE 2013....Caramel creme, cookie streusel, caramelised bananas, thick cream and sage infused caramel shots.......... it is amazing what our minds can see when we step back from a traditional dish and rethink its parts....skill, talent, passion and a good set of taste buds....life is amazing as a pastry chef

SIMPLICITY...not a science ! A RED VELVET REVOLUTION

I do believe that our trade, of pastry is one based on science. Recipes are in essence a calculated formula by which if followed correctly can achieve an amazing chemical reaction taking place between something as mundane as flour and gluten particles, liquids in the form of milk or proteins such as eggs, chemicals such as baking soda and create the most delicious of products.

But science is one thing..I strictly require all my staff to follow my recipes to the letter of the law as they are so well tested that I know the exact number of items that comes from each and if the wrong number are the result then I know usually, where the have deviated form the path to success and have gone wrong.. I love recipes and formulae for that.

But in the hands of the passionless recipes are merely that, a formula...
Without pastry chefs and without their tireless passion for making the art and craft of Patisserie come alive to them, there can be no such amazing creations.

Yes we cook in the trade for customer, clients and passengers, but in essence if we are not cooking to inspire ourselves then we are not being true to ourselves either. Every now and then I need a day to create , to push the limits of my own knowledge, my own passion and my recipes to inspire even my own self. I never want to lose that. A day now and then of creating can open up a whole world of possibilities.

RED VELVET cake , Red Velvet Cupcakes are not my creation. They came from the USA.
(James Beard's 1972 reference American Cookery describes three red velvet cakes varying in the amounts of shortening and butter. All use red food coloring, but the reaction of acidic vinegar and buttermilk tends to better reveal the red anthocyanin in the cocoa. Before more alkaline "Dutch Processed" cocoa was widely available, the red color would have been more pronounced. This natural tinting may have been the source for the name "red velvet" as well as "Devil's Food" and similar names for chocolate cakes.) (Courtesy WIKIPEDIA)

But it has proven to be a very successful product and ever mores these days, thanks to its success as a cupcake...At Blossom Sweets it is definitely our biggest seller...
So what if RED VELVET Cake , once a proven successful recipe were found , we were look at it for more than a cupcake or a regular cake, what if it were fused it with modern patisserie and a little bit of love and a lot of creativity... Well then you would have my own RED VELVET REVOLUTION...
The past few days have seen me make a few options from what is possible as I adore the Red Velvet cake that we make and not only does the new Red Velvet Roulade taste sensational, but it is without a doubt , already one of our biggest sellers.

Sometimes it is the science of our trade that reaps the rewards of success..But sometimes too its the simplicity of just standing back and taking another look at your options...the simplicity of having another viewpoint of shape, form and design of an old product...and sometimes it is as simple as remembering that we do this because we love it...passion is the simplest tool we pastry chefs have....and the one tool we should never forget to bring to work....
Enjoy the following Red Velvet revolution photos

.RED VELVET ROULADE

RED VELVET ULTIME...Red velvet sponge layers, mascarpone and madagascan vanilla creme, rose and raspberry glaze, red velvet macarons and passionfruit shooters to offset the sweetness..

RED VELVET as a plated dessert with raspberry Margarita shooter and Passionfruit shooter to offset the sugary over load.

Red Velvet Boule...with raspberry margarita Shooter..for the adults 

Red Velvet Ball, to offset the sweetness here I made a peanut butter streusel, the dryness and the slightly salted finish of the streusel truly dampened down the sugar fix and made the whole dessert a little more formal and grown up !! I'd use pure raspberry puree for this one and in a way it all becomes a little bit like Peanut Butter and Jelly flavor notes. The berry, the sweetness and the peanut butter streusel combining into a dessert of truly delicious proportions.... From one dessert comes many....simple.

Shape and Form...and the land of Imagination !

I love my trade for one reason and one reason only....within it, anything is possible, life has no boundaries of reality, but is free within the land of imagination.

At work, wherever I am, that sentiment is felt on a daily basis by myself and the staff that surround me.....anything is possible.

Until we enter the kitchen each day we have little idea of what lay ahead, what trickery and expectations of wonder may come our way in the form of orders and request by our valued customers.

Every cake that we make is a memory to them.
A valued memory that  they have had and want renewed in the form of edible affection or a memory we are about to make that will never be forgotten.

From cats to camels, from Louis Vuitton to Chanel....anything is possible , just ask us and take a look at these photos to prove the point...

See you soon ...what will your memory be !!

Hitting the "Delete" button in life....!!

DELETE..

DELETE…

DELETE…

ESC...

Ctrl. ALT. DELETE...

DELETE...

Nothing works !!

Hitting the delete button in a modern world seems simplistic.

Delete  “Contacts” on Blackberry.

”Block sender” in email.

“Remove” friends from Facebook.

But what of the human mind?

A love spurned , a love mis-understood, mis-judged, mis-timed, a love unrequited, ……the trivialities of life.

Pain and anguish, angst and regret now flow through the veins where whence blood  flowed, both head and heart throb in unison; troubled, agonizing throbbing.

But our minds....the most powerful software of them all has no "delete" button.

Why can it not easily forget the love that once was?

Refresh its browser and be anew for another day!

Pablo Neruda knew of the angst I am living through,” Love is so short, forgetting is so long.”

But in his day there was no technology. It was all pen paper, typewriter and carbon paper.

Forgetting lasted as long as it took the ink to fade....Today it gets stored in memory for ever.

We are surrounded by whiz kids and wunderkinds who think they are so smart and have made billions from gigabytes of junk, well why cant they turn their attention to the human computer for a while.

Eradicate our viruses.

Delete our junk.

Remove the hard drive and wipe it clean with a magnet.

Scrub the mother board and reset the power for a newer longer and refreshed life.

Remove the stored problems, the junk,  and the lost love and make me a shiny model filled with terabytes of possibility rather than an aged computer filled with megabytes of regret.

I had one beloved laptop, an Apple Mac Air, which survived countless rounds of emotions and numerous travels with me only to lose it to the burnt out hard rive division within 3 years.

I lost everything, wiped clean with no hope of memory restoral. When it came back from the store it was like new, but had that glazed look about its screen. It was the same, but different. It knew nothing of our previous time together.

I want to be like that too.

I want that glazed look when I look at some people.

As if perhaps we have met but without the longing pain of wanting to hug, to kiss to say sorry, forgive me, take me back, love me, never leave me, be mine, grow old with me, I love you forever.

Some things in life just never will be.

Some code in the human computer just does not sync with other formats.

My hardware may be an older version and hers newer, my code simply outdated.

As I age , I fear my code , whilst the starting blocks of most life and the structure on which all modern computing  has been based, is merely becoming shelved and looked upon, revered , bypassed for a the flashier, speedier more prestigious brand.

Perhaps love and the understanding of it is the final bug in the computing program. Perhaps X and Y do not always make Z.

The newer models may have faster methods of dealing with things, deleting and removing unwanted information, us older models merely crash, burn out, fade to grey,  our screens darkened but the hearts still beating with what could have been, misunderstood thanks to core processors incapable of being read properly by a newer generation.

I have heard and previously quoted such clichés as “to have loved and lost is better than to have never loved at all” , “when one door closes another opens" and I am afraid I find them wrong today!

Doors are too numerable and  entering , being lead into doorways where we have no vision to where it itself leads is destiny for yet more pain and further regret. 

"To have loved and lost", depends on the depth of the loss and the seriousness, the depth of the love in the first place. I truly believe it would be better to have never loved than to suffer the human condition of loss at all.

No, of others words that help me at a time such as this I prefer Sufi Epigram who stated,” "When the heart grieves over what is has lost, the spirit rejoices over what it has left."

My spirit for now is in sleep mode.

I have reset the button of my hearts computer and when it restarts, rekindles, flickers to life once more I hope too the spirit and soul can rejoice over what remains.

An old beat up computer I may be…but laying within, there are spare parts even the young geniuses of today would kill for…

There’s life within this old dinosaur yet perhaps !!!

REALITY BITES or How can so many people be wrong ?

I was told today that I must face reality. 

To get real and stop dreaming.

That, what I want to happen,  can not,  because life does not happen that particular way. 

That I can see life , not , from reality’s perspective but through a dreamers…I say how can so many people be wrong considering they all agree with me (see below)…..reality is not, the be all to end all, it is the acceptance of reality which smothers ambition, suffocates our destiny and extinguishes dreams….

I prefer the happier world of dreams, hope, destiny and  imagination…where everything is possible , plausible and perfect..where I can be anything I want to be, where age doesn’t define us, where I am not labelled by the nationality on my passport , where love never dies and where freedom reigns….

Don’t take my word for it, but how can so many others be so wrong…..

Reality leaves a lot to the imagination.


John Lennon


Reality is wrong. Dreams are for real.

Tupac Shakur

Hope lies in dreams, in imagination, and in the courage of those who dare to make dreams their reality.

Jonas Salk

Reality is something you rise above.

Liza Minnelli

Sometimes you have to look reality in the eye, and deny it.

Garrison Keillor

Reality is the name we give to our disappointments.

Mason Cooley

Common sense tells us that the things of the earth exist only a little, and that true reality is only in dreams.

Charles Baudelaire

Reality doesn't interest me.

Leni Riefenstahl

Reality means you live until you die. The real truth is nobody wants reality.

Chuck Palahniuk

Reality is just a crutch for people who can't cope with drugs.

Robin Williams

Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one.

Albert Einstein

You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.

Ray Bradbury

Is our own reality not merely a cause and effect of our own decisions.

Are decisions not,  the only thing as people we have left that are unmistakably and resoundingly the sole creation of ourselves. Proof of our intellect over animals.

Thus reality is what we make for ourselves through our dreams, wishes, desires , hopes and imagination.

Those who believe I don’t live in reality I believe don’t live in it themselves.

To say that they live in reality means they are merely accepting of others interpretations of it and conforming to an experience destined to lead to unhappiness.

To conform to the master plan of government, society, bosses etc is merely becoming a sheep in the world, which already has far too many.

Sheep get slaughtered. 

We are human and were put here to live differently, that’s why we were given the ability to dream, to act on our dreams and to find happiness.

True I don’t know the history of each person that tells me to face reality but neither do they of me.

I’m off to make my own reality…the dreams I dream at night are reality in the making for the following day…

I am here alone, I think alone therefore my actions, my words, my thoughts are the reality I will strive to live by….

Everything else...Unreal…

In my world , the reality is that global warming has nothing to do with nature but the planet is warming degree by degree due to the loss of dreams and imagination and the inaction of humans to live by them. If carbon monoxide is increasing its because there are far too many sheep in the world, following the one in front to an unhappy reality.

As every dream goes un-enacted upon, so too does the planet warm just a touch further…. We must restore imagination and dreams and live by them to restore the world to its boundless potential….reality and our guidance by, our conformity to it,  is killing us.

Hope,  lies in dreams, in imagination, and in the courage of those who dare to make dreams their reality.

Jonas Salk

The world of reality has its limits; the world of imagination is boundless.

Jean-Jacques Rousseau

FASHIONABLY SPEAKING

On the bucket list of life,( yes that list of things to do before one kicks the proverbial), there are numerous things I want to start doing and numerous things I just want to do once….But today I added something new..

For years, in fact decades I have noted homeless people talking to themselves or to the air. Some people in my youth called them weird, mental, strange or even demented. It is apparently a form of dementia, a distant symptom of schizophrenia anyway.

Every country has them, “self talkers” that is.  I’ve even seen the homeless and forlorn in Paris talking to themselves, although it does sound nicer there, along with numerous other countries I have travelled.

In any case talking to invisible friends, talking to the air, talking to themselves, I never really thought of it as anything but weird or strange myself until today. 
When a gorgeous young friend put the subject line of her email to me, as Soliloquy..

Oh how romantic does that old word sound…!!

Who cares if people think you’re weird, strange, demented or a little off the planet, the thought of having a soliloquy by oneself just seems about the nicest thing, me, myself and I have done in ages.

I mean people sing to themselves and if they sing in tune then no one stops them do they? 

But if you don’t sing, or cant carry a tune and simply desire to talk, then you are seen as mentally unstable ? 

Why the difference ? 

And how to tell these days anyway. I saw a girl on the train platform in London not that long back and she was as mental as you could imagine, she laughed to herself, she swore expletives loudly and she threw her arms around almost hitting three or four other passengers. No one dared stop her. Actually we all kept our distance from this weirdo , her actions looked scary and she was dressed like a right loon too. Then just as I boarded my train I noticed she had an ear piece in and was talk via Bluetooth to a friend on her phone.  The sane and the insane, the rude and obnoxious, a very fine line these days indeed !

And before you state that speaking to yourself is a monologue, excuse yourself now, for a monologue is a speech where one character addresses other characters, and I don’t care to address anyone really.

And before you even consider suggesting then it must be an “aside”, well you will be corrected yet again for an “aside” is a usually short comment by one character toward a general audience. 

And I don't much care for one of them either.

I just want to recount life, chat with someone interesting and have a fab conversation “avec moi.” 

In some circles it is even seen as a stress reliever.

Apparently in the dramatic arts a “soliloquy” went out of fashion around the 18^th century 

We’ll call me a trend setter because I’m bringing it back into fashion.

So as you drive down to the mall, if you see a large framed guy walking down the street thumping the air with his fist, laughing and talking to someone you can’t see, don’t laugh, , no I'm not talking into the phone using a Bluetooth device and I’m not completely demented, I’m just being fashionable and enjoying a good old “soliloquy.”

A "tete a tete", with someone I find interesting ! 

You should try it !

As it has been said before, “at least if I talk to myself, I can guarantee one person is listening!“

Other things we cook !!

I was asked by a friend just two days back if Customised cakes are all that I do..Definately they are a huge part of my trade and I am well renowned for the quality of of cakes flavors and finishes...but Patisserie is so much more !
If you can think it to ask, I'll probably make it for you...
From sugar free menus for customers, special recipes for Ramadan and of coarse on a daily basis cupcakes, whoopee pies, eclairs and some of the delicacies you see below..
Just wanted you to all see the gorgeous food created....and then i'll post some more of this weeks best orders from our Customised cake collection.

dacquoise aux figues fraiche

buche chocolat 

agali roulade

euphorique

tarte d'isis

pomeranian

plaisir arabia

ispahan Cafe 

Let your love see the sweet side within....give cake!!!

Warmth, Memories, Mum ...three words that feel like a hug !

A few days back I found myself leaving the confines of my kitchen to tap out on the laptop the words that filled my head…some days there are simply too many to remain in there..

Either I tap them out or the thoughts would make me cry and to tear up in front of staff is not a thing I desire to do.

I ventured to my oasis, my sanctuary, a coffee shop not far from the maddening world of my cooking life.

I left the air conditioned oasis, ran to my car to avoid the 52 degree heat and sat in my air conditioned car….drove at the rate of knots to the mall and walked briskly inside to find my coffee shop..

The heat outside was 52 degrees, but where did I sit …beside the fake log fire drinking a tall Americano with extra shot, hot milk separate….

52 degrees and I sat beside the log fire, where I felt cosy…drinking a tall hot beverage.

Nothing really to say , other than the comforts of life are strange.

You can offer me cold air, cool water, ice, a beach or a shower, but I feel more at home sitting beside the log fire with a tall warm drink…it calms my nerves and makes me forget the maddening craziness of the psychotic kitchen world, the phone calls and the relentless questions, the downloading of files and the orders.

There is something about warmth which is soothing, well warm is, hot like outside is not..

I think it’s the log fire, I know its fake and resonates no heat at all, but the flickering would defy you that premise.

My mother recently had a very bad event, and I have been very worried that this was the big one, the last time I would here her voice, last time to hear her laugh or get to tell her that I love her..  

Who knew that blood clots can burst inside your brain and you get to survive…Poor thing fell like a leaf inside a shopping mall , thats how sudden the event occurred.

All through these recent days that have followed her hospitalization I have thought of little else than the events surrounding her 40^th birthday for some reason, when we were at our Aunts house in Ulverstone , Tasmania.

A grand old home set on acres, of the type only millionaires have these days, but which a poor old aunt had built from scratch back then.

I loved that old home.

It was the home of my mothers youth, partly the reason I loved it, but it had so much character.

A massive walnut tree in which to climb and see the pirates of Never Never land, a dark scary tool shed in which to imagine robbers and boogey men and guest houses where strangers from far away lands became our friends for a day , a week or a month as they shared their lives with us and stories of distant adventures. Mr and Mrs Robinson where my favorites, they holidayed here every year in my erly youth and they had travelled far and wide. The souvenirs they gave me then has long since been lost but the tales and visions of glorious far away lands, was partly responsible for my own wonderlust all these years and itchy feet to travel.

Mostly what I loved about this old house was where we slept. My bed was against a brick wall which itself backed onto the kitchen and the wood fire stove.

That wall was warm and cosy all day long and just perfect at nights after a busy dinner meal had been cooked upon the stove. The fire barely ebbed , before breakfast stirred its coals once again.

I’m not sure if that is where I developed my love affair with warmth…but its nice to reminisce.

One day I know I’m not going to be so lucky as to say that my mother is making a slow but hopefulrecovery from her recent saga, but at least until the day that I too pass, I will always have the irreverent memories of our childhood living, dining and playing in the house which played such a large part in our lives as children.

I hope every child on earth has such sumptuous memories on which to visit when the world becomes scarily maddening.

It’s not good to dwell on the past, but it sure is comforting to be able to escape sometimes to the beauty of your childhood, when everything was going to be “okay”, where safety was never an issue and where a kiss and hug healed all wounds.

It’s relevant that the subject line to this blog is “Warmth, Memories, Mum” because they strangely all do go together. Like a huge hug.

That said, I’m heading back to work….a child’s dreams and memories  may be precious, but they don’t pay the bills or get the cakes baked…

Best wishes to my mother who is not so well these days.

I love you mum XX

WITH AGE COMES WISDOM !!

If I were to leave a  will to my as yet unborn children it would include wisdom and little money!!…I lived the life of a nomad chef so they aren’t exactly the children of William Gates the Third. But in the end it is wisdom that will make them richer than cash. Cash will come and cash will go within all our lifetimes, wisdom stays with you…

I am as I type, sitting in the passenger seat of a van delivering precious edible cargo of the immensely expensive cake variety to a far distant destination.

And what do I know of cake delivery to far distant destinations, well wisdom and age has taught me much.

I learnt a lesson in 1986 as an apprentice which has remained with me till this day and to which I shall pass on to anyone interested, You see, “Gravity is the undoing of many an award winning chef.” There you go.

Gravity wins out all the time..

You see, in 1986 a group of four young lads had spent four sleepless days and nights making food history for our era. We had cooked, prepared, chopped , whisked and molded some incredible desserts and showpieces for a Salon Culinaire . At the time we lived about 1 ½ hours from the capital city in which the event was being held.

Back in those days, prior to life, we were all about the food. We did what ever it took to be the best and be recognized for it…We had bravado and we had ego and we had no harsh life lessons yet with which to taint our virgin chef-ing minds.

Four sleepless days and nights, an hour and half drive in the warm summer sun and we were soon to lose said virginity of chef- ing minds.

It was the final bridge heading into the city, which still to this day fills my chef-ing head with fear. You see as we had driven the usual 1 ½ hours , this time slowly to ensure everything did not move or get bumped, it was that final corner of the bridge which was a little wider and  a tiny bit tighter than any of us had calculated,  that brought us undone.

The four of us, all late teens where chefs, boys, ego driven, tired and full of machismo. Until we hit that bend at a slightly faster speed and slightly tighter angle than we had realized.

Even at 40 km an hour our minds clicked at the same time. I can still see the looks on all our faces as the car began into the turn.. All that gorgeous perfect food on those ever shiny smooth mirrors sitting in our laps finally succumbed to gravity and the  and began to slide.
Warmth, speed, angle and smooth surfaces could do nothing to stop the food before us, sliding gradually from perfect positions, off the mirrors and onto our laps.

Each of us had both hands holding our prize possessions, so not one hand was free to grab the food…

Just a few kilometers to judging and even less minutes, we had lost the efforts of four long days. What we were left with was a life lesson and wisdom beyond our years which would remain with us all for the rest of our days…

Sitting beside the driver today delivering our precious cargo, we have today a fully refrigerated truck behind us. We have non slip mats holding down the prize and we are driving slow and steady, but its every bridge we come to and every tight angle we round that has me filled with fear and dread.

In three hours time I’ll tell you all how things went….(or judge for yourselves from the photos)
Wish me luck and hope that the wisdom of an event nearly 30 years ago has filled this head with enough wisdom to make this trip successfully with no mistakes or accidents…

Fingers crossed my friends.

And to my children of the future… if I can fill your heads with one piece of wisdom, it is this….

“Don’t be a chef, there are far easier ways to earn a living,… the stress is a killer !!”

Take care my friends…till we chat again