White chocolate, honey & goat's milk tarts

I awoke to a lilac glow gracefully stretching her ballerina legs through the part in the curtain. Only the corner of the room shimmered in the pre-dawn light, the rest remained untouched in their sullen grey. I rubbed the dream-sleep from my eyes and deftly snatched my phone, I have always been able to transition from sleep to a functional waking state within seconds of my awakening, unlike my husband who remains in a hazy trance until lunch time...

The clock flashed 6:03am, nine minutes until dawn was expected to arrive. I turned to my beloved, his mouth slightly open, his face frozen in a dream somewhere, some-place. It's wonderful to watch people in this restful state, between worlds, the seriousness and weight of being an adult hidden away. I always stare in wonder at how innocent and child-like my husband seems when he slumbers. I almost prefer him this way...

I touched his face tenderly with the back of my index finger, tracing the contour of his cheek bone. His eyelashes fluttered briefly from my caress but it did not interrupt his repose. I slid out of the bed and slipped on my robe to stop the morning chill from piercing my warmth with its cold tendrils. After feeding the birds, who seemed to have risen even earlier than I, most likely in their quest to catch the worm, I searched for something to make my husband. I wanted it to be akin to dreaming, to make his transition to alertness gentler. If I had to choose a food that symbolised the Land of Nod it would have to be milk and honey; as comforting as sleep's embrace.

The image of this dish alone spoke softly of children's dreams and feather-light kisses. And so this is what my dearest awoke to...

ease: 4/5.
prep time: 1 hour & 30mins.
cooking time: 35mins.
total: 2 hours & 5mins.

taste: 3/5. For the sweet tooths.

There was no tart nor tang nor deep chocolate depth to break up the silky sweetness of the honey, milk and white chocolate trio. Although they offered different shades of sweetness, it was all too 'one note' for me; I need some discord to add interest.

Flavour aside the texture was wonderful and the crust added the perfect 'toughness' for the delicateness of the dish.

would I make it again: No - too 'goodie goodie' for me I am afraid.


recipe: White chocolate, honey & goat's milk tarts

Shepherd's pie

The next time it rains, when the last drop has fallen to its soil, go outside. Close your eyes... I n h a l e.  
Can you smell it? Amazing isn't it? It's as if the rain has stripped away Nature's cloak with its crystal soak and revealed her innermost secrets. The world suddenly smells alive. Just breathe it in and feel it rush through your veins, pulsating Mother Earth's very life essence through your soul and Really Wake Up.

If I could bottle the scent of newly washed air and dew-laden gardens I would dab it onto my wrist and sniff whenever the world began to look less colourful or my connection to it wavered. So, CHANEL or Dior or anyone, get right on that please :).

Freshly fallen rain not only makes the day smell better, it also makes me hungry. Perhaps it is from the revitalising cool air on my face after hours spent jailed indoors by the water's slanted bars that sparks my appetite, I'm not really sure. But it's not just me either. Once the pitter pattering stops, my male-half suddenly awakes from his laptop trance and asks, "what's for lunch?"

Today, nothing tastes better post-elemental shower than a warm, nourishing pie from the oven. During my short-lived meat-eating-era my favourite savoury pie was a Shepherd's - the combination of pillowy mashed potatoes covering the saucy flavoursome meat just did it for me. What is your ideal rainy day lunch?

Shepherd's Pie
from Gourmet Traveller
serves 4

1 tbsp olive oil
1 onion, finely chopped
1 carrot, finely chopped
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 fresh bay leaf
800 gm minced lamb (I used 200g less as I wanted it to be more saucy.)
2 tbsp tomato paste
250 ml (1 cup) brown chicken stock (see note)
125 ml red wine
60 ml (¼ cup) Worcestershire sauce
120 gm (1 cup) frozen peas, defrosted
1 cup (loosely packed) flat-leaf parsley, coarsely chopped
Creamy mash
800 gm desiree potatoes, coarsely chopped
250 ml (1 cup) pouring cream
100 gm butter, softened

Preheat oven to 200C. Heat oil in a pan over medium heat. Add onion, carrot, garlic and bay leaf and cook until vegetables are soft and start to colour (7-10 minutes). Season to taste, add mince and stir, breaking up mince with back of spoon until brown (5-7 minutes). Add tomato paste and stir to combine. Add stock, wine and Worcestershire sauce, bring to the boil, reduce heat to low and simmer until sauce is thick (20-25 minutes). Stir through peas and parsley and season to taste.

Meanwhile, for creamy mash, place potatoes in a pan and cover with cold salted water. Bring to the boil over medium heat and cook until tender (10-15 minutes). Drain potatoes and return to pan. Add cream and butter and mash until smooth. Season to taste.

Divide mince mixture between four 2 cup-capacity ovenproof dishes. Top with potato and bake until golden (10-15 minutes). Serve with extra Worcestershire sauce to the side.

ease: 4/5.
prep: 40mins.
cooking time: 10mins to brown potatoes.
total: 50mins.

taste: 4.5/5. Those shepherd's sure know their pies.

R loved this and was asking for more the next day. Apart from tasting the mash (which was lovely with its buttery downiness) I didn't taste the meat mixture, but I smelt it cooking and it made me swoon with salivation. The smell almost ended my sixteen years of vegetarianism...almost.

would I make it again: Yes.


recipe: Shepherd's Pie

Jamie's bloomin' brilliant brownies

It's hard to surprise me.

I am quick to spot a falter in someone's speech or an inconsistency in their behaviour, I blame this sleuth-like quality on my star sign, the mystery loving Scorpio. It is due to my inquisitive, suspicious nature that almost all of my husband's efforts to surprise me are foiled by yours truly, most often unintentionally. I can't seem to help going on the chase if I smell a rat, whether the deceit is well-intended or not.

After guessing last year's intended birthday surprise R finally gave up and has not tried anything since. That is probably how he managed to sneak out of the house for a supposed business shop visit (the fact that it was pouring outside and quiet at the office should have piqued my intrigue, but I was too absorbed in my Spring cleaning to bother probing) to return with a bunch of vivid roses and tulips. I was not merely shocked by the surprise gift, but also that he bought me flowers, which has only ever happened on the occasional birthday or Valentine's Day (my girlfriend's are the usual flower givers).

Not only did I not mind that he had successfully tricked me, but I was girlishly thrilled to receive a completely unexpected bunch of flowers. I must have said thank you a dozen times as I happily stared at the flowers throughout the day, they truly do put a smile on a woman's face. I couldn't help but marvel at the tulips in particular with their watercolour streaks of Byzantium purple and cornflower blue, simply a masterpiece of floral beauty.

To show my thanks I baked a tray of 'chocolate only' brownies I spotted on this blog as per hubby's request. We were both equally happy with our gifts :)

ease: 5/5.
prep time: 15mins.
cooking time: 23mins.
total: 38mins.

taste:  4/5 - fairly brilliant.

For me the taste was very earthy with an almost coffee-like depth; the cocoa gave them a rich chocolate intensity. Flour's minimal attendance allowed the brownies a lovely soft, toothsome fudginess but it had a slight graininess towards the end.

Hubby gave these a 4.5 but for me they were a 4; they were a touch too dark and heavy for me, but nonetheless they were quite addictive.

I have a query, I use different percentage callebaut chocolate, in this instance I used a 70% dark callebaut, I read recently that callebaut chocolate may change the consistency and outcome of recipes that call for bitter-sweet or 70% dark chocolate - is this true?

would I make them again: No, there can only be one brownie recipe, and I have yet to find it.

recipe: Jamie's bloomin' brilliant brownies

Lemon & garlic-salt crusted chicken

Caw. Caw. Caw.

I heard the raven at my door.

Peeking in between the blinds to see if I was there.

Caw. Caw. Caw.

He made his presence known once more.

Wanting to receive a treat to take back to his lair.

I'd like you to meet my newest Avian friend, Gomez the Raven (his partner I have nicknamed Morticia, and although we have met, she still remains cautious to approach and keeps me at four arms distance). Gomez appeared one evening whilst I was on my deck, perched on a plum tree vine spotted with newly budded blossoms. After a few twitches of his head, as if to ascertain the level of my threat, he clumsily hopped a few branches closer until he eventually landed on the cobalt blue railing. He looked at me, and I at him. I understood he wanted a snack, and he understood that I understood he wanted a snack. I hastily scrounged up a slice of apple and a few almonds. He gulped the almonds down first but took his time with the apple. Clutching it between his toothpick, obsidian claws he nibbled a few chunks before placing it firmly in his mouth to fly back to his nest at the far end of the neighbours yard beyond. And from that moment, every morning around 7am, I go outside, whistle three times, call his name, and within a minute or two he appears on the same plum tree branch to see what I have brought him. Sometimes in the evening, if I can hear him cawing, I put out another treat along with a whistle and a yell, and sometimes his wife comes too for their supper time morsel.

On a similar note, meet Squeaky. He isn't like the other Lorikeets. He prefers to eat the paint on the bowl, rather than the sunflower seeds in it. His chirp isn't very chirpy either, in fact, it's his namesake; the raspy squeal of a broken squeaker toy. But if it wasn't for his daftness or eccentricities, even his slightly larger, hunchbacked appearance, I wouldn't be able to pick him from the rest of his ilk. It is because he stands out that he (or she, I'm not really sure which) is endearing to me. My special little Lorikeet, Squeaky.

Introductions to my feathered-friends aside, I shall leave you with one of my husband's more recent lunches. As I prefer him not to dine at almost all take-away or fast-food outlets I sometimes hear him reminiscence loudly about certain, unhealthy snacks he once held dear. One of these snacks was fried chicken. Crumbed fried chicken that leaves your fingers greasy and face messy. I hoped this recipe would be a suitable satisfaction of his cravings, and luckily, it was. In fact, he likes it even more than the original despite it only having  a few herbs and spices rather than eleven...

Also, I would like to wish my baby brother a Happy 23rd Birthday! My, they grow up so fast don't they...

Lemon & garlic-salt crusted chicken 
(serves 4)

3 teaspoons salt flakes (I used 2tsp for 3 drumsticks)
2 teaspoons garlic salt (I used 2tsp for 3 drumsticks)
1/2 teaspoon paprika (I used 1tsp for 3 drumsticks)
1 large lemon, rind finely grated
2 tablespoons olive oil
8 large chicken drumsticks, skin on (I used 3 without skin)
2/3 cup self-raising flour
olive oil cooking spray (I used regular olive oil and just splashed it on top)

Method
Preheat oven to 220°C. Lightly grease a large roasting pan.

Combine salt flakes, garlic salt, paprika and lemon rind in a bowl. Add oil and stir to combine. Place drumsticks in a large bowl. Spoon over oil mixture, rubbing in to coat chicken with your fingertips.

Place flour in a large snap-lock bag. Add drumsticks, 1 at a time, and shake to coat. Place drumsticks in roasting pan. Spray both sides lightly with oil.

Roast drumsticks for 20 minutes. Turn. Spray again with oil. Roast for 15 to 20 minutes or until chicken is cooked through. Serve.

ease: 5/5.
prep time: 5mins.
cooking time: 35mins.
total: 40mins.

taste: 4.5/5. Finger lickin' good.

I modified it slightly as you can see above in the recipe. They came out of the oven with their coating still in tact and very much golden and tasty. Hubby wolfed them down happily :).

would I make it again: Yes.

Rhubarb, rose & pistachio dessert

 And Spring arose on the garden fair,
Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;
And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast
rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.

Percy Bysshe Shelley, "The Sensitive Plant"

The beginning of Spring is like the first chord struck during a theatre performance; No matter what conversation you are in or what you are doing, when that first note is heard everyone is thrust into a hushed awe. And that is how the Spring flowers bloom. One morning you awake and they are simply there, stunning you into silence with their unexpected beauty. My favourite of all the flowers that awaken one September morning are the blossoms. Be it cherry, plum or pear they all cheer me equally with their paper thin fragility in hues of pink, snow white or apricot blushes.

Each morning I tiptoe into the crisp air, still tinged with Winter's icy kiss, and soak up every petal in every shade, knowing that soon they will give in to the honey words of the wind and fly away to dance their last until next September, their scene replaced by October's act.

The changing of a season reminds me to savour those fruits still lingering from last, like the glossed stalks of Rhubarb, each a different shade of crimson or magenta with their leafy emerald tops, soon to fade from farmers stalls. You should come to expect at the ending of one season and beginning of another to be showered with posts featuring one or two fruits, or even vegetables. Rhubarb will no doubt feature more than once this coming week as I hurry to savour its taste. That's the glory of seasonality, nothing gets old.

Now you must excuse me, it seems this morning's two hour glucose blood test marathon has finally caught up to me, and I'm feeling rather faint much like most of the female characters in Victorian classics tend to do on an hourly basis. This sweet treat will surely speed my recovery :).

ease: 4.5/5.
prep time: 3mins.
cooking time: 12mins cook and rest.
total: 15mins.

taste: 3.5/5 - texture troubles.

As you all know, I recently joined to the rhubarb club and was quite enjoying my membership. I love the way it tangs and tarts in such a sweet manner, and I also adore the way it collapses beneath my spoon after its stewing.
In this dish I liked the following:
the combination of rose, rhubarb and pistachio, truly a terrific trio in the making. The yoghurt added a clean palate to the dish without offering competing flavours.

What I didn't like:
The texture. I'm not sure why but the rhubarb mixture left an incredibly chalky after-texture that I did not care for at all.
Whilst the flavour was good, the texture was too off-putting for me and I wouldn't even have a clue as to why it was chalky.

recipe: Rosewater rhubarb dessert

would I make it again: No - the texture ruined it.

Gypsy pork rolls with sofrito

It's surprising what sneaks back in your luggage following a holiday.
Some people bring back trinkets of famous monuments, artisan goods or cheap knockoffs depending on the location. Others, myself included, amass hundreds of snapshots or film clips to put into slide-shows or albums to share with friends and family. And then there are some that find the glimpse of another life in a different country too good to pass up and simply bring their suitcases home only to fill them with their old life's belongings to head back to start afresh.

My bags from France came back with a little of all three. I pulled out blocks of silken chocolate wrapped in beautiful delicate papers that would make any girlish heart squeal with glee. The scents of petite soap bars mingled in the air exhaling notes of rose, lavender, lime and lotus as we passed them around, each recipient choosing one that pleased their nose most. Following the gifts we watched the photos on our flat screen, offering commentary when prompted; the shots from Paris elicited the most oohs and ahhs. Believing my luggage to be empty we bid everyone adieu and settled back into our old habits.

But I was mistaken. Something had stowed away and followed us home. It was neither souvenirs nor film but a piece of life from France. A ritual we had been quick to adopt when living in our apartment on the Avenue de la Bourdonnais; the afternoon siesta. Lunch in France is not a sandwich scoffed down at a desk nor a coffee in a paper cup. It is a sacred time of respite, rest and the enjoyment of a good meal. It is meant to be savoured and lingered over not rushed or worked through. We realised soon that we would have to schedule our grocery shopping around the two-sometimes-three hour afternoon break when stores would be closed and bistros filled with people relaxing, laughing and ceasing their work to go back to living. Lunch became our favourite part of the day. We would eat a three course meal whilst watching the world go by or head home to whip up a feast of fresh produce, fluffy baguettes filled with oozing cheeses finished with the most juicy strawberries imaginable, eaten with our fingers whilst our feet rested on the balcony balustrade, the breeze tickling our toes as we let ourselves slip into the afternoons embrace. It was as replenishing to the soul as a cool drink of water following days of thirst. And yet it was the first thing to be forgotten on our return home...

Until it crawled out of my luggage and unto my lap. If we can do it in France, then why not here? We choose our own hours, so why not choose something that made us happy? I became determined to give it a try. Instead of sending my husband off to work with a standard sandwich he left empty handed, but with a promise that I would return at 1pm with something worth taking a break for.

And that is what happened. At 1pm I arrived at his work with two large lunches and some cutlery. Although he was busy he stepped out and we ate in peace at a leisurely pace, enjoying our food and conversation at the back of the store on a tiny table for two most commonly used for storage. Not only did we enjoy our lunch, but I have a feeling that little table was also happy to finally be used as it was intended.

We have been home for a few weeks now, and more often than not we are still managing to shut off if only for one hour to enjoy a lazy lunch and recharge our spirits.

ease: 4/5.
prep time: 5mins
cooking time: 35mins
total: 40mins

taste: 4.5/5. The first impressive lunch.

Although it didn't look as pretty packed into a tupperware container, hubby was still happily surprised by his lunch when I came to drop it off - it was his 'tastiest' lunch ever. He said it was full of flavour and wolfed it down in minutes.

I tasted the sofrito which definitely packed a flavour punch. The tomatoes were sweetly acidic from the sherry with the caramelised sweetness from the onion and garlic also. I used smoked paprika (not pimento) which I doubled because I simply loved the depth it gave to the dish, it really brought it all together. The mint leaves also helped to cut through the smoky, tangy sweetness with a burst of freshness every now and again.

I forgot to get the butcher to butterfly and pound the pork, so I just sliced it in half, and although it was a little thick and the rolls a little clumsy, it still tasted fine, but it was a bit pink in the centre which hubby didn't mind.

would I make it again: Yes.

recipe: Little Gypsy Pork Rolls

Spiced zucchini loaf

The rising sun
Blesses my mind
With joy.
The setting sun
Blesses my heart
With peace.

Sri Chinmoy

I never underestimate the power of the sun on our mood and our sense of well-being. It really is amazing to see the effect sunshine, following days of grey and slate, has on people. It's as if they have become uncovered for the first time after years spent under a dust sheet in an unused room. All of the glum and apathy fall to the floor as they breathe, smile and lift their heads to the sky.

I witnessed such an event yesterday at a friend's son's baptism. The clouds had rolled back and the sun came marching out with baton in hand and a super snappy step to match. Everyone greeted each other with, 'how perfect is the weather today, so beautiful', with a smile beaming from their sun-dazzled cheeks. It made the day just that much more special and joyous. The little man himself enjoyed the sun's kiss on his head and soon forgot the tears from his oil-bath. Like an eraser to a chalk board, all negativity is washed away by golden light.

It seems Winter has allowed Spring to set up one week early - flowers have already begun to bloom, birds have begun their mating dances, and leaden clouds no longer carpet the entire sky. I find that I am making excuses to be outside and feel the warmth tickle the surface of my skin. Even the air feels fresher when drenched in bright-lemon rays. 

As the afternoon approached I decided to bake a treat to accompany a cup of tea and a midday nature-break, which may have lingered past the hour...

ease: 5/5.
prep time: 10mins.
cooking time: 50mins.
total: 1 hour.

taste: 4.5/5. This became my catnip.

I will never forget how this loaf made my home smell. The mixture of spicy cinnamon and heady nutmeg combined with that sweetness of bread made my home as inviting as a roaring fire on a frostbitten day - I felt like I was getting a huge aroma-cuddle. Sigh.

The taste was nourishing and deeply satisfying - the spices, the sweetness, the moistness, just everything.

The texture was as perfect as the Winged Victory of Samothrace. The crust became that perfect chewy, slightly crunchy texture which gave way to a super moist but with only a slight large crumb centre.

I liked this so much I made it twice in one week. I made it first with white spelt flour and the second time with wholemeal spelt flour - both were lovely, but the first had a slightly softer centre.

I also increased the cinnamon to 1tsp and the nutmeg to 3/4tsp.

would I make it again: Already have.


recipe: Zucchini bread

Black forest mousse

Of course, I photographed my own glass, which was the dodgiest one. I assure you, the others were beautifully layered and much more appealing.

My energy has waxed and waned like the sea's edge lapping at the shore.

Some moments will find me fluttering to all corners of a room like a fairy high on Pixie Dust; enthusiastically humming to upbeat tunes whilst scrubbing counter tops with all the enthusiasm of the kids on Glee combined. And then comes the low of lows trough, in these moments, I will be hidden beneath layers of bed sheets, consciously ignoring the suns persistent knocking on my window as it peers between the blinds whilst calling me out for pretending not to be home.

As much as I'd love to raise my eyebrows comically, hands by my ears and with a shrug say 'I have no idea what's causing my energy-fluctuations,' I cannot. One look at my food-intake of late and you'll be shaking your head and waging your finger at me. My stomach has entertained all kinds of cakes, tarts, chocolates, pastas, chips, dips and everything bad for my hips. I think it's time I got off the sugar train and made a reservation for Veggieville. But before then, I'll be hosting a final party in my belly for some chocolate peeps and maybe a few cookie bros. To kick it off, let me introduce you to Mrs Mousse - such a sleek and silky lady :).

ease: 5/5.
prep time: 6mins.
total: 6mins.

taste: 4/5. Simple - but impressive and delicious.

I recently chose this to finish a dinner party, I wanted something really quick and easy, so I could hastily get back to the guests, but I also wanted it to look special and taste lovely. The flavours are classic black forest - chocolate, cream, cherries and a touch of alcohol. Obviously if you are going to use a store bought chocolate mousse, make sure it's good quality, same goes for the cream. Needless to say, everyone enjoyed it.

would I make it again: Yes. Super easy and quick.

recipe: Black forest mousse

La bete noire

Old friendships are like the nook of a lovers arm; natural, comforting and familiar.
New friendships are like a new pair of heels; it takes a while to figure out which outfits they match and how to walk in them and in time, whether they will become worn-in or a pair you hardly wear.

After I met my husband, we made new friends, I befriended his, and he befriended mine, but we also made some together. After attending a previous school mates 21st with whom he had been just a friendly acquaintance, they suddenly found common ground that hadn't been there in their youths and established a friendship. Not long after, this friend met a woman, and eventually they got married one month after us. It was fortunate that not only do I get along with him, but that I also formed a friendship with his wife. When we all catch up we spend hours talking over good food, all together at first, and then his wife and I will find a cosy corner to really dish the dirt whilst nibbling cookies and they will wander off to play pool, pinball or some other boys toy whist munching on chips and being completely oblivious to our animated conversations, mostly about them.

After we both returned from our respective holidays abroad, we got the call that their new house (only a 5 minute drive away) was finally ready for guests, and could we please come over for a casual dinner and catch up. Naturally, we were asked to bring nothing, but how can I possibly come empty handed? My mother would have had a conniption if I brought nothing to a dinner/house-warming, she raised me better than that.

My first thought instinctively ran to a dessert. But as this friendship is still in its early bloom, I didn't know what flavours or sweets they liked most. So, as I often do when I want to please all tastes, I chose chocolate, as it's the safest bet sweet-wise. Because really, how could you possibly not like chocolate?

 No inside shots I'm afraid as this cake was a housewarming gift.

ease: 4.5/5.
prep time: 10mins.
cooking time: 1hour plus 3 hours chilling.
total: 1hour & 10 mins plus 3 hours chill.

taste: 4.5/5. This truly is a 'black beast' of a cake.

If you want one truly great flourless chocolate cake recipe, then look no further, this is it. All chocolate, eggs and sugar this cake is rich, satsifying and death-by-chocolate inducing. But I asure you, after a short eating break, you will be going back for more.

The cake's texture is fudgy and divine, and once it hits your tongue it begins to melt. Coupled with a silky ganache...well...I'm currently wishing I had a piece left over. I've made this with both 56% chocolate and 70% chocolate - hubby loved the first whilst I loved the second. Next time, I shall use the 56% for the cake and the 70% for the ganache.

It would be easy to play around with different spices (perhaps cinnamon), alcohols (Grand Marnier?) and even perhaps a sprinkling of Fleur de Sel on top.  I'd recommend tarter fruits if you wish to adorn the cake with them, raspberries, strawberries, blackberries etc.

would I make it again: Yes - this is the second time already.

recipe: La bete noire

Chocolate-lavender fondants

This post has lingered like those who stay to watch the credits of a movie. All I had to do was write a few words and click publish post. But I have been stuck.
Do I write about the way the sea in Nice sparkled more brilliantly than Edward Cullen on a Summer's day? Or do I write about the magical way the sunlight is streaming through my window now in Melbourne, so densly that I feel as though I could write my name in it with just my fingertip? Or perhaps I should just leave it at that, and wait until my writing mojo has returned in time for me to write the next post. Yes, that is what I shall do.

ease: 3.5/5.
prep time: 10 mins plus 3 hours chill
cooking time: 14mins.
total: 3hours & 24mins.

taste: 3/5. This volcano is dormant.

The magic of fondants is all about the ooze. This was more of a thick sludge than ooze. Yes, the fudgy centre was nice but it's not what I wanted out of this chocolate pudding.
The cake was was also rather crunchy and firm - perhaps using a dariole mould rather than a ramekin is what made this less soft and less lava-like.
I substituted violets for lavender and thought the floral element is pretty much what saved this dish from just being a dark, and slightly bitter fudgy cake. Despite this we all polished off our plates.

would I make it again: No. I've made other fondants before that were more 'fondant-like'.



recipe: Chocolate-violet fondant with creme fraiche ice-cream