Some of my earliest encounters with biscotti were closely associated with work. The art of skiving, to be exact. It was not as blatant as leaving the office to hang out just about anywhere, anytime. My job at that time was to sell advertising space on the internet and, depending on the client's business, to push for an e-commerce store to be set up by the company I represented. 

The dotcom boom in Singapore at the start of a new century meant exploring new possibilities among small and medium enterprises for greater opportunities out there, despite not knowing much about the internet. It was my job to cold-call potential clients, get myself in their office to educate and close the deal. I use the word "educate" because most of my colleagues were hardcore salespeople. Hard-selling was their strategy, something I could not bring myself to embrace.

My sales director was a "cili padi" - a feisty, ambitious, aggressive leader with an insatiable appetite for sales revenue, attractively packaged in but five feet two inches. She was so sharp one had better not try to be funny, especially when one's sales figure had not been up to her expectations. Imagine your name on the whiteboard, with a daily, weekly, monthly and to-date (ie. since your very first day in the job) sales achieved. You'd also receive the printout every Monday morning at the sales team meeting. There were as many as forty salespeople, experienced and otherwise. Staff turnover was regular.

So what does that have to do with biscotti? 

I don't trade shares. In fact I did very badly in Financial Mathematics back in uni when my classmates were already dabbling in the stock market, which was why they took up that module. That said, I think I have some very desirable qualities to be a good trader: intuition, discipline, patience, and decisiveness. 

Some of you would have seen photos of the cherry tree at JL's parents' house. When it is in full harvesting season, paying for cherries becomes a joke. I would anytime prefer pulling out a long chair under the tree and just keep popping those cherries like crazy. As if to satisfy a year's worth of craving. 

So the first time I came across a one-kilo tray of cherries going for RM 120, I had to ask the husband to witness the price-tag. And the first thing I will do when we go back to France again is to hug that tree in the garden. Yet at the same time, I think about cherry clafoutis constantly here in Kuala Lumpur. No amount of blueberry, mango or even pineapple clafoutis could sooth that yearning. 

I must be slightly over-enthusiastic to blog three times this week but since I'm waiting for a block of butter to soften, and that I've made something simple earlier on, why not? My schoolmates J and C came over for lunch today. Yes, schoolmates. But like what C had said, we were just schoolmates not so long ago. As the girls came from the office, they brought some savoury pastries - chicken and tuna puffs - shared over mushroom soup and lemon cake. 

When friends come over, I always worry about not having enough food. So for supplementaries - purely optional - I got some baguette slices lightly toasted to either go along with the soup, or for some tomatoes as topping. The Italians (and now nearly the rest of the world) call it bruschetta. 

One of our favourite pastimes is to (don't judge please!) go to Times bookstore at Pavilion or Bangsar Shopping Center, pick a few magazines or books, head to the in-house café, order coffee and spend an hour there reading. The café has seen a change of hands and it is now run by Espressolab. Don't ask us how they rate, though, because we always ask for two piccolos and a complimentary bottle of water. But based on those and their warm hospitality, an afternoon there can be very pleasant when it is quiet. And that we go there regularly says enough.

A recent weekday afternoon there, I sat through Leon Family & Friends cover to cover. It was tempting to bring the book home with me but I am already having a hard time keeping up with those on my shelves. The book is beautifully decorated with old photos, styled shots of appealing ideas for the home kitchen, and hand-drawn illustrations. Nearly every recipe from the eclectic collection has a story behind it. I also love that it is designed in a typically retro colour scheme. However, one needs to exercise restrain now and then so the book may have to wait.

I am not kidding you. In fact, the "5 minutes" starts from the point of putting the can on the kitchen counter till having your first spoonful of these salty, buttery sweet corn kernels. I always keep a can or two of these in the pantry because there will be days when I'm all alone at home and instead of yearning for a full meal of carbs, I think about those styrofoam-cup-fuls of jagung sold for no less than RM3 or S$2 in the malls. Honestly I had not bought those for too many years now.

One of the things I've been practising in the past year is to make crêpes. It sounds trivial: flour, eggs and milk beaten up to produce a runny batter which is then spooned onto a heated pan, flipped over and voilà. But you know what they say -- talk is cheap.

What is the right proportion for the three ingredients? The eggs and milk: cold or at room temperature? Whisked or blended? Pan: cast-iron, non-stick or stainless steel? Heat: low, medium or high? Fire or induction? One can read up on the internet and still messes things up when doing it, for instance, lumpy batter that is not ready for the pan. And finally, there's the look on the husband's face that says it all. Meaning, he still prefers the ones he had as a kid. Meaning, "The next time we go back to France, I'll ask my mum to teach you."

Which was what he did. And she did. And thus I did. In fact, in the past months I've turned crêpe-making into an organized process which, in my humble opinion, is worthy of ISO certification. JL now asks for them and can take up to eight crêpes per seating. Me, I happily oblige every time since it's been internalised. It may not be the world's best recipe but it's definitely one I can call my own.   

This can be done with just a wooden spoon and a bowl for the batter. But allow me to share some key details which you won't find in any magazine or food article:

* As soon as you decide to make crêpes, take the milk, eggs and a tablespoon of butter out of the fridge. Leave these on the counter to warm to room temperature. Until then, carry on with your life.
* Measure the flour by weight, not by cup. My "Golden Ratio" -- 100g flour : one egg : 250ml milk. Laugh all you want but, you're welcome.
* It is easy to obtain a lump-free batter when you use a blender. But you can also get a smooth batter with just your spoon. So you don't need a blender, really. You just need to know how to do it with your hands. I'll describe it later.
* You need to "rest" the batter for at least an hour before using it. Trust me. 

Ready? Let's just work with 300 grams of flour. Follow the Golden Ratio and it's always one tablespoon of butter. 

Start by making a well with the flour in your bowl. Break one egg in the well, use your spoon to cut into the yolk. Working in a small circular motion, gently incorporate the flour with the egg until you get a pasty texture. Add a small amount of milk and keep mixing the ingredients slowly but thoroughly. Alternate between adding of egg and milk till the third egg. Continue to stir in small amounts of milk to incorporate all the flour. Then, stir in the butter, a pinch of salt, and a teaspoon of sugar. And finally, stir in the remaining milk. You'll get a very runny batter, much like the consistency of heavy cream. Now let it rest.

After some years of teaching mathematics and music in Singapore secondary schools, I have two words engraved on my forehead: Best Practices. And this is my setup for crêpes - from left to right - input, process, output. Also, I find that induction cooktop is better than gas (fire) because the pan is consistently and evenly heated up. More pleasant to work with too. I use moderate-high heat and only start when my palm feels hot over the pan. With just that tablespoon of butter already in the batter, there is no need for oil on the nonstick pan.

The rest of it comes with practice, practice, and more practice. First, you get the hang of the process, right from taking the ingredients from the fridge to eating it. Then, work on getting the exact amount of batter to put on the pan. If you keep using the same ladle and pan, very soon you'll be able to tell if it is too much, too little or just right. Work on your wrist action - how you swirl the pan to spread the batter evenly without any hole. After that, how thin can you get? When do you turn the crêpe over? How? Don't forget to savour that split-second when you slide the crêpe onto the plate. 

I came to realize that my true enjoyment of crêpes lies in the process of making them, and not so much in the eating. I like that the entire process has been well thought through -- my RO (reporting officer) would have been impressed if this were my KRA (key result area) -- and that it is simple to the point of being primitive. But more importantly, I love watching how the husband turns into that boy all over again, sprinkling sugar before rolling it up like a cigar. Just the way he likes it.