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Whoopie Pies – Chocolate and Vanilla Buttercream
American Recipes By Amy @ cookbookmaniac

I'll admit it right now. I am not very good at taking orders from people, especially when it comes to food. My eyebrows furrow and my toes curl up when I hear a command. The kitchen is the one place that I want complete control and complete freedom to do what I please. However, when Pizzaboy sent me an email with a picture of something he saw on the internet, my toes started to curl and I pursed my lips. 'What is it that you want now?!' I ask. The attachment was the most enticing picture of a whoopie pie. "Hell yeah! I'll make that!" "Really?" "Yeah!" "Oh... cool!." The things we do for love. I've never eaten these before. I am pleasantly surprised by it's soft cake-like texture and it definitely sinks right into your mouth. My mind is going insane with all the potential flavour combinations ideas. ps.…

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Not a Scotch Finger Biscuit
American Recipes By Amy @ cookbookmaniac

What's with the name? When I made these delicious biscuits I declared to Pizzaboy that they tasted like Scotch Finger biscuits. He shook his head in disagreement and said, "Its not a scotch finger." Both of us couldn't remember the last time we had eaten a scotch finger and made sure we bought a packet on our next trip to the supermarket. Well, it turned out not to be the same as a scotch finger. It was less crumbly, more wholesome and just as cheerful. The malted milk powder and cream cheese made it just that bit more special. It also tasted spectacular dipped in a cup of tea. Not a Scotch Finger Biscuit Adapted from Martha Stewart's Cookies 2 3/4 cups (315g) plain flour 3/4 cup malted milk powder 1 teaspoon baking powder 1/2 teaspoon salt 1 cup (225g) unsalted butter, at room temperature 85g cream cheese, at room…

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Pho – Vietnamese Beef Noodle Soup
Asian Recipes By Amy @ cookbookmaniac

There is a grace that permeates through every nook and cranny of my home when this pot is brewing in the kitchen. It is the thing that gives my body a sense of safety and nurture. It is the meal that I call home, and whenever I catch a whiff of the precious spices simmering along with the marrow bones, my neck instantly arches up and my nose points up into the air. "Yes, a fresh pot is brewing". An engaged and knowing smile crosses my heart and I know I must give in to the temptation to what Vietnamese call Phở. There must be some magical formula that causes the hard-working people of Vietnam to participate in the ritual of eating this morning, noon and night. It is too good to save for one time of the day, and if your cravings dictate when you eat, you too may…

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