Honey and Espresso Crème Caramel

A soft, delicate crème caramel laced with honey and a hint of chocolaty coffee. The honey adds greater depth of flavour to the dish, while the coffee balances the sweetness to add some complexity.

Choose a good honey with a bit of character that isn't overly strong. Orange blossom honey met that requirement nicely, but use whichever honey suits your tastes best.

While I enjoy drinking lightly flavoured coffee roasts with hints of berries and stone-fruit, a darker roast with some heavy chocolate and malt notes goes well in this dish.

Pour whole shots to get the full flavour of the coffee, but don't over-extract and don't add too much coffee to the caramel or it won't set without excessive boiling. This was for 8 ramekins, needing an inconvenient amount somewhere between two and four shots. I only had to throw away a few teaspoons of coffee.

Uncooked, the caramel already approaches the colour of burnt toffee. Don't panic if it starts looking dark.

Try to put about the same amount of caramel in each ramekin, but don't get obsessive about it; if one has slightly more or less, it won't affect the end result much.

Whisk the egg yolks and honey together until reasonably well combined. Don't overdo it; unlike sugar, honey combines easily with egg.

The tops should be golden when they're done. The middle will still wobble slightly when they're moved and might look uncooked, but this sets fully as they cool. Let the crème caramels sit in the fridge for at least 24 hours after they come out of the oven. If you rush, you may find that all the caramel is still solid in the bottom of the ramekin.

Be careful with the knife when cutting the crème caramels free. The appearance of the served dish depends heavily on whether you break up its surface with the knife.

You'll hear the crème caramel coming free from the ramekin and caramel will start leaking out onto the plate. If it doesn't come free immediately, leave it while serving the others, or hold the plate and ramekin together and tap them against the table. Don't shake them, as this will break up the crème caramel.

When the crème caramel has come free, lift off the ramekin. Pour any liquid caramel still in the ramekin onto the dish. If there is still hard toffee at the bottom, don't bother trying to scrape it out; just pour in some hot water and leave it to soak clean.

Voila! Enjoy your honey and espresso crème caramels and use them to impress your friends. Just don't tell them how easy they are to make.

Honey and Espresso Crème Caramels
Yield: 6 x 1 cup ramekins

Ingredients

Caramel

110 g Honey
60 ml Espresso

Crème

600 ml Pure cream
400 ml Whole milk
2 tsp Vanilla Extract*
8 Egg yolks
120g Honey

Directions

Caramel

1. Combine the fresh espresso and 110 g of honey in a saucepan over medium-high heat. Bring to a vigorous boil. Keep at a boil for 5 minutes or until hard ball is reached.
2. Pour into six 1 cup ramekins and allow to set.

Crème

1. Preheat oven to 150 °C (140 °C fan forced).
2. Combine milk, cream and vanilla in a pot and heat over medium-high heat, stirring constantly. Heat to 60°C.
3. Whisk egg yolks and honey in a bowl. Whisking constantly, slowly pour the milk mixture into the eggs.
4. Pour into the ramekins. Place ramekins in a baking tray and fill tray with water up to halfway up the side of the ramekins.
5. Place in oven and cook for 40 minutes or until only just set. The centre will be a similar consistency to set jelly. Remove from oven and allow to sit in the hot water for a few minutes. This finishes cooking the crème caramels without the risk of an unreliable oven overcooking them.
6. Cover ramekins and place in a fridge for 24 hours before serving. To serve, run a knife around the edge of the ramekin, cover with a plate and invert. Caramel will start to seep out from under the ramekin when the crème caramel has come free.

* Most crème caramel recipes call for whole vanilla beans, because vanilla is central to their flavour. The vanilla is barely detectable in this dish, and it would be an unnecessary waste of good vanilla beans to use them here.

Bent Beers in Braddon

Bentspoke Brewery is the latest addition to Canberra’s micro-brewing scene. Set just off Lonsdale Street, excellent beers and a great vibe have already made it a popular evening destination. The bar opened on the 6th of June, and has been bustling ever since. Indeed, their first weekend saw so many beers poured that they were in danger of running out during opening week.

Fortunately, the brewery isn’t far away. The brewing starts in the mashers upstairs, with only a glass wall to separate the process from the bar patrons. When Richard and Tracy have worked their wizardry, the beer is piped through the stair’s handrails into a line of 2500L fermenters. Once matured and ready for consumption, it’s served directly out of stainless steel tanks behind the bar without being bottled or stored in kegs. This approach, unique in Australia, is one Richard and Tracy hope will deliver their beers at their very best.

Fermenters line the bar's back wall.

Photo courtesy of Jessica from
Words and Wilds.

While sipping the latest brew, patrons are invited to consider how it was produced. The brewery on show is explained by a wall-sized mural representing the ingredients and each stage of the brewing process. Even the kitchen plays its part, the by-products from the brewery working their way into the food on offer. Spent grain appears in both their chicken wings and burgers.

“They’re all a bit bent.”

The beers themselves are already living up to the high expectations set by Richard’s seventeen years as the head brewer of the Wig and Pen. Five beers and a cider were served up for the opening of the bar, all of distinctly different styles. The beers don’t fit neatly into traditional categories, brewed to showcase the ingredients rather than to meet specific expectations. “They’re all a bit bent” was Richard’s description when asked what types of beer he intended to serve. The cider, too, presents a complex flavour profile, one that might be unfamiliar for Australians accustomed to either over-sweet or completely dry ciders. Although they might be unusual, Bentspoke’s offerings are certainly proving popular. Two beer tanks and one of cider have already been emptied, and the brewery is running non-stop to replenish supplies and prepare new offerings.

Ultimately, there will be eighteen beers and ciders on tap, with a few particularly unusual concoctions in planning. Richard and Tracy have been experimenting with everything from gluten free beer to barrel ageing and even a truffle infused beer for Canberra’s truffle festival. Takeaway 2L insulated flasks also allow patrons to enjoy freshly brewed Bentspoke beers further afield.

But the Bentspoke bar isn’t just about the beer. Unlike most micro-brewery-bars, Bentspoke has gone that little bit further to make the decorations and atmosphere stand out. From the recycled bike part chandeliers and wall-garden to the keg seats and hoppinator lights, they’ve gone out of their way to make the bar stand out as a unique and interesting experience. Half beer-hall, half restaurant, the upstairs bar also provides an unusual view across Braddon and Civic, making an excellent backdrop for the other decorations.

The bar’s popularity has undoubtedly been boosted by the great setting, but ultimately it is Bentspoke’s beer that has made them an instant success. Canberrans have already voted with their wallets and the results are clear. There’s nothing wrong with delivering beers a little bit bent.

A Posting Lull

Some may have noticed a distinct lack of posts appearing here of late. There is good reason for this and for once it's not that I'm being lazy. I've been thoroughly snowed under by the competing commitments of SES training, study, arranging new club ski gear and lessons for the encroaching season, and still trying to have the occasional adventure in between. While staying up until 2am most nights before it all resumes again a few hours later, time to write about any of this has been limited.

Fortunately, Jessica from Words and Wilds has been on most of the same trips as me, and is documenting them on her blog! The most recent of these includes a few of her excellent photos, depicting me being crushed by waves while trying to surf in a most unfamiliar way. It's a good read and includes some pretty photos of people floundering in the waves.

"Ring of Fire" in North Hobart

Since moving up to Canberra early in 2013, I've been enjoying the Hobart food scene vicariously through a few friends and a blog. An increasingly common theme from both appeared to be burger restaurants. A few of them had been popping up before I left, but their numbers seemed to be exploding in my absence. I love burgers and was keen to try out some of these new arrivals.

Love is a burning thing

And it makes a fiery ring

So when I journeyed south for a few days, it seemed only fitting that I visit one of them while I had the chance. Catching up with a friend to loiter around some of our old North Hobart haunts, it seemed only fitting to check out The Burger Haus. Now, I'm a big chilli lover so a burger called "Ring of Fire" with optional extra Death Sauce was one that had to be tasted.

Bound by wild desire

I fell into a ring of fire

There's a row of small bottles at home, their contents varying from a few mild sauces barely stronger than tabasco to fiery concoctions made from Trinidad Scorpions that are only to be applied to dishes with great caution. I've been known to apply them liberally and with gay abandon, so the prospect of a burger mild enough to be served to the public didn't worry me in the slightest.

The taste of love is sweet

When hearts like ours meet

Indeed, the delicious burger I consumed proved no great challenge, with a pleasant tingling heat overlaying the array of other flavours. Talking to the staff afterwards, they told me that they make them hotter if requested. Next time perhaps, for I hadn't the stomach space remaining to add another burger just to get a chilli fix. But North Hobart is also home to The Winston, itself home to some reputedly spicy buffalo wings. You can get various heats of them, the hottest being "Nuclear" buffalo wings. A plate of nuclear wings sounded perfect to gnaw on over a game of pool, but for rumours of a hotter option not listed on the menu. My friend (and fellow chilli-seeker) had been listening to these rumours for months and was keen to find out the truth. A dish not listed because it's too hot for most people to handle? He was right; how could we refuse?

I fell for you like a child

Oh, but the fire went wild

Before we could have the chance to refuse, we first had to convince the bartender to let us order Death Wings. Negotiations, wheedling and pleading were all required before an order could even be placed. A plate of Death Wings had been out of the question, but we'd each be permitted to try one, with a few merely nuclear wings to fill the rest of the plate. Roughly the size and appearance of a medjool date, the Death Wing looked innocent enough when it arrived, but its appearance drew the intention of every bar regular and member of staff. I took a careful bite. It was certainly hot, but unbearably so? Not at all. I finished pulling the last of the meat off the bone and licked off some sauce. To be honest, I was a little disap-

I fell into a burning ring of fire

I went down, down, down and the flames went higher

The Death Wing sauce, it seems, has a delay before the real heat kicks in. When it did hit, it was an intensity of burn I'd never even come close to experiencing before. Mouth and throat seemingly afire, I gulped at the pint of milk the bar staff thrust at my face. They'd been prepared but milk wasn't enough, not even close. Always before when I'd eaten chilli, it ended. Eventually there was a barrier that I could push through and the pain would start to fade beyond. This burn kept building. Pins and needles were assaulting my arms and lips. Fire was spreading everywhere. Dimly through the burning fog, I saw my left arm curling up against my will.

And it burns, burns, burns, the ring of fire

The ring of fire

I had thought myself strong in the face of chilli. I had thought myself capable of tackling any spicy dish set down before me. As the fire stretched out to half an hour before the first hint it might be about to peak, I knew that I had met my match in the Winston Death Wings. An hour of sculling pints of milk in a bar and I could think clearly. Eventually I felt like I might be able to drive. Of course, any night like this would usually end with me and my friend dueling at midnight. But we'd been defeated already, struck down by a few teaspoons of sauce.

The ring of fire

The ring of fire

Coffee on the Kingston Foreshore

The Kingston foreshore is rapidly setting itself up as one of Canberra’s dining destinations. Eateries from the increasingly well known Morks Thai restaurant to a Mex Brenner shopfront are opening their doors, not to mention the local institution of Brodburger just across the street. Of course, restaurants and chocolate shops aren’t the only ones popping up; Canberra’s love of coffee is showing through as cafés make their presence known.

38 Espresso

A family-run café, 38 Espresso is so named for the family’s lucky. With their blackboard menus adorned with coffee-themed jokes and sketches of the daily specials, their walls decorated with the works of local artists and maze-like drawings on street signs, and their coffees accompanied by mismatched collectable teaspoons, they have created a friendly and quirky vibe for their café. While they aren’t among the numerous Canberra cafés that have taken to roasting their own coffee, they do have their own blend that is prepared especially to their tastes. The results are impressive, and easily pour the best flat white you’ll find in the area. Unusually for a blend, their coffee also presents well as a long black. Even more unusually, they offer Vietnamese style iced coffee for anyone wanting a reminder of their last trip to Southeast Asia. But their standout coffee is their cold brew. Although I’m not generally (or ever, actually) in favour of adding syrup to coffee, I can’t deny that the hint of vanilla they add to their cold brew complements the rich, almost chocolaty, drink perfectly. Food at 38 Espresso is reasonably good and varied, but coffee really is their standout specialty.

Mrs Sackville

Mrs Sackville is a cute café whose mismatched chairs, small antique stall and quiet ambiance might seem at odds with the trendy image of the foreshore. It is scarcely tucked away but, facing onto the glassworks rather than the boat harbour, it seems almost unnoticed by most passersby. Rather than making it feel uncomfortably different, it instead feels comfortingly like visiting a friend’s house for a chat and a cuppa.
While their organic coffee has a pleasantly delicate complexity to it, tea is the beverage of choice here. Handwritten menus at each table—each of which tries to be tucked into a corner, even when sitting in the open—lay out the range of loose leaf teas on offer. The food is prepared fresh in front of you, and has a pleasantly homely feel to it. Free range and organic are the catchwords on the menu. Trying an open chicken, avocado and bacon roll off the specials blackboard, I was struck by the intensity of the flavours, the ingredients perfectly cooked and presented to highlight each one. Like the café itself, the unassuming descriptions on the menu belie the quality of the food on offer. For a hearty café meal in Kingston, this is the stop of choice.

Paleo Perfection

The most recent café to arrive on the Kingston foreshore, only having opened its doors at the start of March, Paleo Perfection’s first few weeks have already built a good reputation and strong following. The owner previously sold her paleo-friendly chocolates at the Bus Depot Markets, where their popularity convinced her to set up a permanent shopfront. The café aims to provide food that is both healthy and delicious, and succeeds well at both goals. Whatever your dietary requirement, the odds are high that there are a few options on offer to suit. The gluten and dairy free muffins are a taste sensation, exploding with flavour. Lines are already forming for the tomato and bacon fritters in the morning. Their drinks follow the same ethos as the food, using some of Australia’s best milk to accompany their organic coffee beans. They have no bottles of “chai” syrup or powder on the counter, instead offering brewed chai sweetened with a dash of honey. Paleo Perfection has succeeded in making its healthy alternatives taste as good, or even better, than the originals. 

Remedy

Remedy is the latest of Lonsdale Street Roasters’ shopfronts, set beside the canal-mouth between the lake and harbour. Here, the usual Lonsdale displays of wall-mounted bicycles have been adapted to the local vibe, an old timber boat hanging from the ceiling instead, but Remedy is as welcoming toward cyclists as are its city cousins. They provide one of the only bike racks in the Kingston Foreshore area, conveniently close to their large, sunny outdoor eating area. Flute Bakery pastries sit tantalisingly on display, their backdrop a menu of different paninis. While the pastries are as excellent as ever, the paninis here don’t yet live up to their Braddon counterparts. Lonsdale’s single origin coffee beans continue to be their strength, pouring better than their blends as both black and milk coffees, although they are best enjoyed as long blacks.

Bowens Creek Canyoning

Day 2 of the 2014 Blue Mountains Extravaganza brought with it further predictions for rain, thunderstorms and possibly the apocalypse itself. The forecast had lost some credibility with us after the previous day's adventure had been relocated for fear of a storm that never came, but the terrible consequences of a flash flood while canyoning meant we still couldn't take the risk. Fortunately, we were intending to make our way down a canyon more forgiving than Claustral, and our plans could go ahead.

There are several canyoning sections in Bowens Creek (some of them with overlapping names) but it was on Upper Bowens Creek South that we set our sights. It was a new canyon for all of us, but its trip description had caught the eye of our intrepid leader. Starting with a car shuffle (to save us a 3km walk along the non-existent verge of a highway at day's end), we packed and set out along a ridgetop pad toward the start of the canyon. I've had difficulty looking for entry points to some canyons (most notably when spending half a day bush-bashing while trying to find Heart Attack canyon) but the pad took us most of the way without drama, and a steep scramble soon took us the rest. These muddy stretches of rock proved the most treacherous footing of the trip, quickly clogging the tread on our volleys* as we grasped at tenuous handholds.

A short jaunt alongside the creek brought us to the start of the wet sections, and a convenient campsite carefully cut into the hillside where we could don wetsuits. Most of the abseils on the section could be scrambled around, but they were more than spectacular enough to be worthwhile. The first abseil was also the least impressive, a two-tiered waterfall before we reached the canyon proper. Jess used our second line to set up herself and her camera up between the two tiers, although the drops constantly spattering the filter over her lens soon drove her away.

From there, we worked our way down to the first constricted section, accessed from an abseil that plunged into a deep pool alongside a waterfall. The banded sandstone walls of the narrow canyon arched in graceful curves up to the distant slit of sky. It was a short section before we emerged onto an open sunlit platform that marked the start of the next abseil. This one dropping through a waterfall into an even grander chamber of vaulted sandstone, its soft greens and bands of vivid orange revealed by lances of sunlight that slipped between the trees and rocks above.

We left our packs and wandered a short distance up the less grand but equally beautiful Corkscrew canyon. It was relatively easy to go back up the canyon, and we would have explored further had time allowed it. Another time perhaps.

Beyond the junction, the canyon opened wide once more to reveal forest bordered by sheer sandstone cliffs. A snack break in the dappled shade of a stand of Coachwoods, and we ventured onwards once more. Another canyon joined ours unnoticed in the forest, until we realised the water was suddenly flowing the wrong way. A quick backtrack found the right path again, and brought us to the next abseil. We avoided this one, not because we didn't want to do the abseil, but because our leader spotted what looked like a cave opening that might offer an alternative route. Some scrambling with handlines followed as we edged through his mysterious path and did indeed emerge near the base of the abseil.

A log slide descended into the next pool, an intruding sandstone buttress halfway down navigated with mixed success. While hanging sideways off the log, most ended up dropping into the pool below. Wading onwards, we soon found Hobnail canyon cutting into our path. We dropped packs again and went for an explore. It was similarly promising, but our time still didn't allow us to complete an entire extra canyon in reverse. Working back down to our packs, I managed to trip myself up. An outstretched hand saved me from the indignity of falling into the water, but the sudden shooting suggested what might have been a worse outcome. A few cautious prods and pulls at my right thumb produced some quite unfortunately familiar sensations. I'd partially torn my UCL a few years previously while skiing in New Zealand, and did not relish the prospect of going through the same recovery process again. Still, there was nothing to be done for it then but to keep my right hand out of the way and use my left for the steep scramble and climb out of the canyon. Fortunately, I've long been in the habit of practicing doing activities one handed so it wasn't too major a hindrance, which was kind of the point of all that practice. I'm not sure that I'm glad that it paid off, but at least it stopped my thumb putting a dampener on the end of what had been a superb, storm-free day of canyoning.

* I wrote at some minor length last year about my disgust with the new line of volleys, and have since been searching for my ideal replacement canyoning and watersports footwear. Although the matter remains unresolved for now, the deadline was recently extended when I managed to find a new pair of genuine Dunlop Volleys. They were tested on Malaita Walls and Bowens Canyon, proving their mettle by surviving with tread unscathed.

Related posts:
Prelude: Blue Mountains Extravaganza 2014
Day 1: Claustral Canyon

Check out Jessica Rose's blog for more amazing photos.

Claustral Canyon: A mission thwarted

Claustral Canyon, coveted and revered for its reputation as both a challenging and spectacular canyon. It’s a long day, particularly since a change to the access route added a few hours on to the walk-in. It’s also been the site of numerous rescues and the tragic loss of a group of canyoners. Why? After two abseils down waterfalls, the third abseil starts by plunging through a small opening in the rocks, known as the keyhole. In the slot canyon, any rainfall can raise the water level to block the keyhole, trapping canyoners with waterfalls behind as the water rises.

Claustral canyon is dangerous with even the prospect of rain, and we had to know just what odds we faced before attempting it. Rising long before dawn on Saturday morning, we gathered around smartphones that struggled for reception in the depths of Megalong Valley. When a brief signal broke through, it illuminated the stark reality of our situation. Possible thunderstorms were predicted throughout the mountains.

Thunderstorms are the great enemy of canyoning, causing flash floods to roar unexpectedly through the narrow slots cut into the sandstone mountains. Even short canyons can be deadly if a storm crosses through their catchment. A long day in a slot canyon with no escape routes and a compulsory abseil that could be easily flooded was out of the question. There were a few bad weather alternatives available. We chose one that I had used before when storms swept across the mountains.

Malaita Walls is a popular abseiling destination near Katoomba. A multi-pitch abseil down the cliffs rather than a canyon, it has zero chance of flash-flooding, some spectacular views, and is utterly exposed in both senses of the word.

We donned harnesses, piled ropes into our packs and set off down the short access track. It brought us to the mass of chains that make up the first anchor, some leading to bolts, others wrapped around rock formations. It’s one of the most substantial anchors I’ve used, reassuring when swinging over the edge of a 70m cliff, with unobstructed views of the valley below. Leaning out and looking down, you can see a rock outcrop 45m below you, the end of the first pitch. At least, you can usually see an outcrop.

Although the skies were clear overhead, fog filled the valley below us. Stepping off the edge to start the abseil, my destination was hidden by the swirling vapours below. Although I knew it was there, and that four people had reached it safely ahead of me, I was struck by a sudden spike of fear when confronting that wall of white. 

My old fear of heights has largely been scared away since I started abseiling. It could only withstand so many instances of me stepping off cliffs and throwing myself past overhangs to dangle in the open air. Occasionally though, its remnants rear their head. Descending, knowing I had to swing to the side but unable to see my destination, I had the mixed sensations of serenely descending through the tranquillity of a beautiful setting and the internal screaming from part of me that was convinced I was going to fall into that unknown at any moment. That juxtaposition is quite possibly what I love most about abseiling.

It was an uneventful descent, the mists punctured by the constant calls of an army group on the neighbouring route of Malaita Point. Their shouted communications echoing down the valley gave an impression of a well organised and professional group... although this impression was somewhat dampened by a call of "You're on pitch four, numbnuts!" and the distinctly audible argument that followed.

Our own abseils went smoothly, including the usual dry-canyoning balancing act of not moving too painfully slowly, but also not going so fast that out ATCs would heat up and melt the dry rope.

Photo courtesy of
Jessica Rose.

Emerging onto the tourist trail at the end of the route, we started making our way back up the seemingly endless staircase that snakes its tortuous way up cliffs that are far easier to abseil down. A lookout at the base of a waterfall provided a break for lunch, and led us to contemplate abseiling the falls.

Photo courtesy of Jessica Rose.

Distractions and temptation to go straight back down the cliff aside, we did reach the clifftop tourist centre eventually and made for another tourist destination. A quick check of a Norwegian weather forecast showed we were in the clear for a brief dabble in a wet canyon, and we were soon donning wetsuits for a trip down Empress Canyon. The canyon is packed with tourists during the late morning and early afternoon, but was quiet by the time we entered the water. Starting higher on this trip than on my last trip, we got in an extra couple of jumps before reaching the main trail head.

Empress Canyon has a nice mix of jumping, scrambling and sliding, all within its beautifully sculpted, narrow confines. My white water instincts kicked in partway down, screaming that it was not appropriate to scramble through a boulder sieve just because the water made it look easy, but it was otherwise uneventful. The canyon ends with an abseil down a waterfall, dropping straight into a waterhole that's a popular destination on a hot summer's day. I had missed the abseil on my previous trip, and did so again on this one. Worried about being caught behind a traffic jam at the top of the abseil, we'd left harnesses and rope in the cars. By the time we reached the anchors, there was no chance of having to queue up; the area was deserted. But, without any gear, we had to turn around and scramble back up the canyon to the access track. It was no great chore, since canyons are as much fun to go up as down, but the abseil will continue to taunt me until the next storm is forecast on a canyoning weekend.

Related Posts:

Prelude: Blue Mountains Extravaganza 2014

Day 2: Bowens Creek

For another take on the days events, not to mention some excellent photos, check out the trip report on Words and Wilds.