introduction

NOT MANY PEOPLE KNOW THAT MY FIRST LOVE WAS BAKING, BUT WHEN THE HANDLE ON MY OVEN DOOR FELL OFF RECENTLY, I TOOK IT AS A SIGNIFICANT EVENT—METAPHORICALLY AND FIGURATIVELY.

You see, I never seem to have a handle on life and that is one of the main reasons I turn to baking; in short, it chills me right out. Slowing down, having to be precise and concentrate – it’s my kind of meditation. I love it so much I’ve even been known to park myself in front of the oven to watch a cake cook, like television.

When I appeared on the first season of MasterChef Australia many moons ago, I was the contestant who often threw herself off high places with my unorthodox takes on Southeast Asian dishes. At the time, it was very much about reclaiming my cultural heritage and nutting out my culinary identity. I had to figure out what I wanted to represent, what I had to offer, that was not necessarily unique, but uniquely me.

After six years of ruminating, I just couldn’t run away from the original thought of opening a little cake and pastry shop with my bestie, Sarah – an idea we had when we were in design school. Fast forward 20 years and Jamface was born. First, as a pop-up at the Adelaide Farmers’ Market, now also located at the historical Adelaide Central Market, in a cute little cubby house of a shop that my hubby, Jono, and I built. Here, we serve things that are a wonderful mash-up of French and Australiana – a love child between Paris and the Country Women’s Association (CWA), if you will. So this is how the recipes in this book have been informed.

I love being a pragmatic cook – there’s far too much out there that is fluff and seduction, but when you crack the goods open, the flavour just isn’t there. Since maturing as a cook and running my own joint, I find myself steering further and further away from the notion of plating things up within an inch of their lives. My cakes are the same. They are flavourful, real and uncomplicated. Anything that looks decorative is still there to punch flavour first, looks second.

Going even further back, my love of seeing things rise in the oven started when I was nine, the year we migrated to Australia from Malaysia. My folks were busy assimilating and running their newsagency, so school holidays were strictly an ‘amuse yourself’ situation. I was never allowed to help much in the kitchen for fear that I would lop off a digit or set myself on fire, but baking was looked upon as an activity that was safe enough. We only ever had meagre pantry basics, so shortbread and sponge cakes were the first things I learned to cook.

On weekends, Mum, who baked fiendishly, took painstaking care training me up on things like how to line a tin meticulously. I remember as if it were yesterday the moment that she taught me the invaluable skill of folding flour into batter, explaining why it had to be done ‘just like so’. I used to love seeing her pull out her handwritten recipes in home-ec exercise books she’d trusted since she was a teenager. The pages were brown from age and fragile from good use, and I was fascinated that something so unglamorous could contain potions to concoct such wonderful magic. I guess this is the thing that’s so addictive about baking. You do feel like a magician when, with a bit of chemistry and physics, you can transform eggs, butter, sugar and flour into such beautiful, delicious things, with infinite variations …

To finish, my advice on how to be a better baker? Simply apply the fundamental virtues of courage, persistence and stamina. I grew up seeing Mum bake the same thing over and over, critiquing her own work harshly: ‘Hmm, if I’d added a tablespoon of cornflour in that, it would have stabilised the mixture more’, or ‘Hmm, I should have known it wasn’t quite cooked because it didn’t spring back properly when I pressed the centre.’ Be aware that variables can affect the outcome: using a slightly bigger or smaller tin, whether it be an aluminium or non-stick surface, and take into account the inaccuracy of domestic oven temperatures ... no matter how well a recipe is written, it might still take a couple of goes to get it right.

Never be afraid to make mistakes because with them comes an understanding of the science, the ability to redeem potential disasters and the confidence to adjust recipes. For now, I will bid you adieu and good luck. Don’t worry, I’ve made sure to include mostly easy recipes, with a few aspirational ‘hair-tearers’ for the more ambitious amongst you. Wield that whisk like a fearless warrior and, most importantly, have a blast!

poh x