london bakes

chocolate & sour cream cake

2013-06-18T12:15:00.000+01:00

To get to our new flat from our old flat, you go out the front door, turn left and then left again and walk for a little under two minutes (we timed it one day).

It was a little over three weeks ago that we did that walk for the last time. It was pouring with rain and we ran down the road, clutching bin bags filled with whatever of our possessions wouldn't fit in the van.

I just had to double-check my diary to make sure that it really was less than a month ago that we moved. It doesn't seem possible that we could only have had 24 days in our new flat and that we haven't always lived here.

When I thought about what I was going to say in this post, I imagined writing about how strange it was to come out of the tube station and turn left rather than right. About how the stacks of unpacked boxes make me feel unsettled. How is sort of feels like we're just on holiday and will have to go back to our old flat soon.

Except it doesn't at all. It just feels like home.

And that is despite the fact that we are still sleeping in the guest bedroom while we wait for our bedroom to be finished and that our kitchen is nothing more than a shell (albeit one that, as of last Friday, has a functioning oven). There may be boxes piled in every corner and a distinct lack of any pictures on our walls but it still feels like home.

On Saturday morning, I padded around the concrete floor of the kitchen with the radio on and the windows open. I riffled through boxes until I found a couple of cake tins. I gave up looking for a mixing bowl when I came across a saucepan that would do the trick. I used a mug to measure out my ingredients and a fork to combine everything. Soon, the smell of new paint was replaced by the smell of chocolate cake. In the afternoon, I stood in a patch of sun (sun! in my kitchen!) and iced the cake, swirling the frosting with an offset spatula that had turned up, slightly incongruously, in my make up bag. There were edible gold and silver stars bought a few months ago especially for this very occasion. As the cake chilled, I made a large pot of ragu bolognese and, that evening, we ate our first proper meal at our new dining table. If I didn't feel at home before, I certainly do now.

Chocolate and sour cream cake

Cake adapted from this chocolate & salted caramel bundt cake
Frosting slightly adapted from this Ghiardelli recipe

Yield: Serves 6-8

This cake is really just this chocolate & salted caramel bundt cake (adapted from my lovely friend Sarah) halved and poured into four 7-inch pans rather than a bundt tin. I realised when researching (in the loosest possible terms) this post that actually, a recipe involving 7-inch pans is not particularly helpful if you don't live in the UK as 7-inch pans don't seem to be as widely available elsewhere as they are here and 6 or 8-inch pans seem to be far more common. As my cake layers were pretty thin, I'd imagine that the same amount of batter would probably be fine in a 6-inch tin. If you only have 8-inch tins, I'd advise just making two layers. You might be able to cut them in half carefully if you are desperate for all four. With both sizes, you'll probably need to cook the cake for slightly longer but you'll need to keep an eye on the oven. The frosting - just a mix of milk and dark chocolate and sour cream - is wonderfully rich. You really don't need more than a relatively thin layer between each layer of cake. The original recipe advises not keeping the frosted cake in the fridge; I much preferred the texture when it was plus I wasn't really overwhelmed with having all that dairy out on the counter in the middle of June.

For the cake:

40g (1 1/2 oz) dark chocolate, chopped
30g (3/8 cup) cocoa powder (plus extra for the tin)
120ml (1/2 cup) hot strong coffee
70g (5/8 cup) gluten free flour (or plain flour)
30g (1/3 cup) ground almonds
1/2 teaspoon bicarbonate of soda/baking soda
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
180g (1 cup) dark brown soft sugar
30ml (2 tablespoons) extra virgin olive oil
1 1/2 tablespoons sour cream
1 egg
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

For the frosting:

150g (6oz) dark chocolate, chopped
150g (6oz) milk chocolate, chopped
225g (1 cup) sour cream
A generous pinch of salt
Edible gold and silver stars, optional

Preheat the oven to 180C/350F. Grease four 7-inch round cake tins with butter and dust with cocoa powder.

Combine the chocolate, cocoa powder and hot coffee in a small bowl and gently stir until the chocolate has melted and the cocoa is dissolved. Set aside to cool to room temperature.

In a separate bowl, lightly whisk together the flour, almonds, bicarbonate of soda/baking soda and salt.

Whisk the melted chocolate together with the sugar, olive oil, sour cream, egg and vanilla for a couple of minutes until the mixture is smooth. Add the dry ingredients a third at at time, lightly whisking between each addition until the flour is just incorporated.

Pour the batter into the cake tins and bake for about 15 minutes until firm to the touch and a toothpick comes out clean if inserted in the middle. Leave to cool for 10 minutes in the tin before turning out onto a wire rack.

When the cakes are cool, wrap them up in cling film and chill in the fridge for an hour or two. This will make frosting the cake so much easier and much less infuriating.

When the cakes are chilled, make the frosting by melting together the dark and milk chocolate in a bowl over a pan of simmering water. When the chocolate has melted, take it off the heat and beat in the sour cream and salt until smooth. Allow the frosting to cool until room temperature before trying to frost the cake.

I'm the first to admit that I'm no expert at frosting a cake but my general technique is as follows: Place the bottom layer of the cake on the plate or cake stand that you're going to serve it on. Tear off strips of greaseproof paper and slide them under the cake all the way round to minimise the chances of getting frosting everywhere. Place a generous dollop of frosting on the cake and spread it almost, but not quite, to the edges with an offset spatula. Place another layer of cake on top and spread another spoonful of frosting. Continue until you've used up all your layers. Pour yourself a drink and congratulate yourself on getting this far.

Next, I do a thin layer of frosting using my precious offset spatula again all over the cake (top and sides). This is the crumb coat designed to keep the final layer looking as pristine as possible. It doesn't matter if it's not perfect. I also try to fill in any gaps or lopsidedness. Chill the cake for 15 minutes or so. Finally, use the rest of the frosting to finish the cake. That offset spatula is useful again to get a smooth finish but I tend to leave my frosting looking fairly rustic (hence the edible gold and silver stars to distract everyone). If my explanation makes no sense, this tutorial from Butter Me Up, Brooklyn is really helpful.

This cake is pretty rich so you only need a relatively thin slice and little vanilla ice cream or creme friache definitely does not go amiss.

Click here for a printable version of this recipe.

vanilla bean and espresso spelt scones

2013-05-01T11:28:00.000+01:00

So, May. How did that happen?

This is most likely going to be my last post for a month or so. On a purely practical level, we're moving in a couple of weeks and I've been told firmly and repeatedly that my normal technique of shoving my possessions in boxes and supermarket carrier bags as they are being loaded into a van is not going to cut it. We seem to have accumulated an awful lot of "stuff" in the last five or six years and most of my weekends are currently spent knee deep in bin bags and cardboard boxes rather than flour and butter, as I would prefer.

The more I've thought about it though, the more excited I am about having a month away from here. My only real aim for this blog has only ever been to ensure that every recipe I make, every sentence I write, every photograph I take is better than the last one and I don't think I can honestly say that has been true recently.

I want to love it here again and be proud of what I do. The best way for me to do that is to take a step back, stop drafting blog posts in my head and actually just get on with my life for a few weeks. By the time June rolls around, I know I will be desperate to come back.

I'm leaving you with some scones inspired, as so many things have been recently, by our recent trip to California. I started most mornings with a "mini" (but really quite adequately sized) vanilla and espresso scone at one of our favourite coffee shops in Santa Monica. The sweetness of the vanilla was perfectly balanced by the bitterness of the coffee so that I didn't feel like I was overindulging too early in the day but I definitely felt like I was on holiday.

Vanilla bean and espresso scones

Yield: Makes about 6 - 8 depending on size

As a note in the recipe, these scones are not particularly sweet as they only have a hint of maple syrup. I made a quick vanilla glaze with icing sugar, water and vanilla bean paste to drizzle on top of a couple and it made them feel a little bit more special which is sometimes what you need first thing in the morning. I bought my espresso powder in sur la table in the US. I've never seen it for sale here but instant espresso or a strong instant coffee would probably work but may not be quite as strong. I made those with 100% whole grain spelt flour which was more do to with the fact that I've just finished the bag of white spelt flour and don't want to buy another before we move than anything else.

225g (2 cups) whole grain spelt flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon bicarbonate of soda (baking soda)
1/4 teaspoon salt
45g (3 tablespoons) unsalted butter, cold and cubed
120g (1/2 cup) plain yoghurt
1/4 cup milk
20ml (1 tablespoon + 1 teaspoon) maple syrup
2 teaspoons vanilla bean paste
1 1/2 teaspoons espresso powder
A little more milk to brush on top before baking

Preheat the oven to 180C/350F and line a baking tray with a non-stick surface.

Sift the flour, baking powder, bicarbonate of soda, salt and espresso powder into a large bowl. Add the butter and use your fingers to rub it into the flour quickly. You can stop rubbing when it is in pea-sized lumps.

In a separate bowl or, even better, a jug, lightly mix together the yoghurt, milk, maple syrup and vanilla.
Pour the liquid into your dry ingredients and bring together with a fork until you have a rough dough. You might need to use your hands to just bring it all together at the end. If it seems a little dry, you can add a splash of milk.

Gather the dough together and squash it down with your hands (I don't bother with a rolling pin). I use a fluted cutter to cut out my scones but you can use whatever you like or just shape the individual scones by hand. The secret is not to overwork the dough or twist the cutter too much as you use it as it may stop the scones from rising properly.

Brush with a little milk and then bake for 20 minutes or so until risen and golden.

If you want, you can make a glaze for the scones with a little icing sugar, hot water and vanilla. It's a nice touch, especially if you prefer your scones on the sweeter side.

smoked sea salt & olive oil chocolate tart

2013-04-26T10:49:00.001+01:00

Considering the number of times that I've made this tart - or a version of it - over the years, I'm a little surprised that it's taken me this long to share it with you.

Whilst I wouldn't go quite so far as calling it my signature dessert, it's what I used to bake for almost every dinner party and social occasion. We've celebrated several new years with this tart and more birthdays than I care to think about.

The two fairly obvious reasons for this are that, firstly, it's and easy and reliable recipe that can be prepared in advance and, secondly but most importantly, that it always seems to go down very well.

I've tinkered with the ingredients over the years, as you tend to do with recipes that you know and trust. I've settled on a version with olive oil rather than butter for a slightly richer and more complex flavor and tweaked the amount of sugar until I have something that is just right for my palette. You can add nuts - either ground up as a replacement for the flour or stirred through the filling before baking. A little cream or ice cream is a wonderful addition as is a scattering of fresh raspberries.

Smoked sea salt and olive oil chocolate tart

Adapted from Brownies by Linda Collister

Yield: Serves 8

I always think that it looks like there's quite a lot of sugar in this recipe and there is. This is mainly because the filling is, essentially, a chocolate brownie. I've cut it down a little from the original so it doesn't taste too sweet and it works well with a plain shortcrust pastry (ie pastry without any added sugar). Smoked sea salt is somewhat of an acquired taste. I like to use it sparingly because I think it's nice just to have that slight hint of smoke rather than feeling like you've inhaled the fumes from a barbecue. You could always use plain old sea salt; it's equally delicious but just has a slightly different flavour profile .

Ingredients

Pastry for a 18cm square tin (whatever kind you like)
3 eggs
260g (2 cups) light brown muscovado sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla bean paste
135ml (1/2 cup + 1 tablespoon) extra virgin olive oil
50g (1/2 cup less 2 tablespoons) white spelt flour
50g (2/3 cup) cocoa powder
A pinch of smoked sea salt

Cooking Directions

Preheat the oven to 180C/350F (fan).
Roll out your pastry and line a 23cm square tin or circular tart pan and lightly prick with a fork. Cover with a piece of parchment paper and fill with baking beans. Blind bake for about 9 minutes before removing the paper and baking beans and baking for a further 7 minutes until the crust is lightly browned and dry to the touch.
Set aside to cool while you make the filling.
Beat the eggs in the bowl of stand mixer for about 5 minutes until light and frothy. Add the sugar and vanilla bean paste and beat for another few minutes. Drizzle in the olive oil and continue to beat until combined. Finally, fold in the flour, cocoa powder and salt.
Pour the filling into the pastry and bake for about 30 minutes until set in the middle.
Allow to cool to room temperature before slicing.

green tea mojito

2013-04-23T10:15:00.000+01:00

There is something rather disconcerting about sitting down for dinner with a group of people who have been your friends for a decade (or more). That's 10 years of friendship, right there!

There's a special bond that you have with people who have seen you at your absolute worst - as my friends from university most certainly have. Through heartbreak and hangovers and all the angst of trying to work out what kind of person you are, we've always been able to go back and pick up where we left off. When one of number announced that she moving home to Spain for the next year, we couldn't let her leave the country without marking the occasion in a suitable manner.

And for us, that meant cocktails, girl time and a 2am viewing of Clueless in our pyjamas while eating ice cream (and drinking water - sometimes there's no getting away from the fact that you're not 18 anymore).

I like to start these kind of occasions with a jug of something fruity and boozy. Quite apart from anything, it's easy for everyone to help themselves which means that I avoid going into my slightly scary hostess mode, watching people's glasses like a hawk so I can offer them a refill the moment they take their final sip.

I became rather partial to iced green tea when we were in California - I don't really know why as it's not like it really tastes of anything much. But if you add some rum, plenty of lime juice, a few sprigs of mint and a touch of sugar and you have a fairly dangerous drink.

To go alongside the mojitos, I made a few of pan-Asian canapes (a fancy way of saying that I made whatever I felt like with scant consideration for the fundamentals of any particular cuisine):

Spicy pork and lettuce wraps (a pain to eat but we didn't let that stop us)
Thai chicken skewers (minus the skewers)
Sesame roasted butternut squash (my favourite, I've pretty much eaten this for every meal since)
Carrot and poppadom bites (a recipe from my friend Katherine that involves grated carrot, spring onions and chutney)

I found the original recipe on the kitchn. The quantities given are for one glass. In order to make a pitcher, I used the juice of 6 - 8 limes, a couple of teaspoons of sugar and sprigs of mint, two cups of green tea and as much rum as I felt like, tasting as I was going so that I got the balance right. My later pitchers were definitely stronger as I became more generous with the rum but also sweeter as I got bored of juicing limes.

orange and almond brownies

2013-04-19T11:00:00.000+01:00

We went to Newcastle last weekend for a slightly belated celebration of my birthday. We both skived off work early on Friday afternoon to catch a train that would get us there in plenty of time for dinner,such are our priorities.

I always think that if you want to see England - proper English England - then you should take a train. While my boyfriend worked, I sat with my nose pressed up against the glass watching as the patchwork of fields and rolling hills flew past. The sky seemed to go on forever. I'd turn to my boyfriend from time to time and excitedly announce that we'd just gone past a flock of tiny sheep.

Every now and then, the train line would curve through somewhere where people lived; a town or a half-built housing estate or, sometimes, just a scattering of houses. In that moment, I had a brief glimpse into someone else's life.

Blogging is for me a little like that train journey (albeit with fewer tiny sheep); a series of brief glimpses into someone else's life.

I write this blog mainly for me. It's a diary - an extension of the LiveJournal that I've had for years - with a few pictures and the odd recipe thrown in. I cook and bake what I do because it's what I feel like eating at any one point in time, not because I think it's what you should or might want to eat. The blogs that I love to read are like that too, snapshots of life illustrated by what we eat.

Orange and almond brownies

Very vaguely adapted from an original recipe in The Telegraph

Yield: 16 brownies

I know that brownies appear here fairly frequently. I've tried to curb the number of recipes for them that I've posted in recent months but I am pretty sure that you can never have too many brownies in your life. I've made a variation of this recipe time and time again, mainly because my dad once told me that they were his favourite brownie. Whenever I go home, I like to be able to take a tupperware box filled to the brim and this was my most recent offering.

Ingredients

300g (12 oz) dark chocolate (I used 70%), chopped roughly
175g (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter
120ml (1/2 cup) honey
4 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract (you can use a touch of almond extract if you want to amp up the almond flavour)
30g (just under 1/2 cup) cocoa powder
1 teaspoon baking soda/bicarbonate of soda
A pinch of sea salt
50g (1/2 cup) ground almonds
The zest of 1 large orange

Cooking Directions

Preheat the oven to 180C/350F. Grease a 22cm square tin.
In a bowl over a pan of simmering water, slowly melt the chocolate and butter. Make sure that the bowl doesn't touch the water. When melted, remove from the heat, transfer to a large mixing bowl and allow to cool.
Add the honey to the chocolate mixture and mix well with a wooden spoon. Add the eggs one by one and the vanilla and continue to mix until incorporated. Sift the cocoa powder, bicarbonate of soda and salt into the mixture and finally fold in the ground almonds and orange zest.
Pour the mixture into the cake tin and bake for 20-30 minutes. The brownies should still be moist but should be set in the middle; if you stick a toothpick in, it won't come out clean but it won't have any raw batter on it.
Allow the brownie to cool before transferring to a wire rack and cutting into pieces.

spelt focaccia with goat's cheese and caramelised onion

2013-04-16T10:18:00.001+01:00

While there are many parts of moving that are difficult/stressful/argument-provoking, the whole process of selling your home seems to me to be one of the very hardest.

Our flat has been on the market for a couple of weeks now. We've had a fair number of viewings but no offers (unless anyone is on the hunt for a slightly over-priced 2 bedroom flat in W9?). Our estate agent uploaded the photographs of our flat to various property websites while we were on holiday. I looked at them like I was looking at a stranger's flat, noticing details that I've become blind to over the years.

Because we never know when we're going to have a viewing, we've become remarkably and quite uncharacteristically disciplined since it went on the market. We make the bed and draw the curtains in our bedroom every morning. Before we go to bed, I spend five minutes cleaning the kitchen and straightening the cushions. I haven't quite cured my boyfriend of the habit of placing his empty glasses next to, rather than in, the dishwasher but we're getting there.

The thing is, I know what kind of viewer I am. I am one of those people who surreptitiously studies the titles on a bookshelf. I sneak a look in kitchen cupboards. I try to work out how I would organise the furniture if it was mine.

We saw one flat a couple of months ago that was owned by a couple who were both accountants, like we are. I know this because they have put their framed qualification certificates on the wall of the study, unlike ours which are languishing at the back of the wardrobe. We walked around the flat feeling a strange kinship with these people that we'd never met. Their washing up was drying next to the sink; the bathroom was still heavy with condensation from their morning showers. There was a picture of the two of them in the bedroom - a holiday snap where they look deliriously happy (and the type which my boyfriend and I are physically incapable of taking).

Being there, it felt so intimate.

When viewers walk into our bedroom, do they see the high ceilings and the bay window? Or do they notice what type of perfume I wear and what size feet my boyfriend has? When they walk into the kitchen, do they see the cupboard space and the appliances or do they see the number of different flours I have? And what does that tell them about me? Do they admire the canal view from the window of the sitting room or the collection of wooden animals that my boyfriend brought back from South Africa? I hope that most people will see the former but I'm pretty sure that at least some people are like me and will see the latter too.

And whilst they may be there to pass judgement on my flat, I can't help but wonder what those people will think of me.

"They" say that filling your home with the smell of freshly baked bread is an excellent way to appeal to prospective purchasers.

And so, I baked bread.

Spelt focaccia with goat's cheese and caramelised onions
Yield: Makes 1 loaf

I've had a few bad rises recently and so I went to the trouble of using a thermometer to make sure that my water was the right temperature to activate the yeast - it was definitely worth it and confirmed to me that too-cold water was my problem. I probably could have been a little more generous with the goat's cheese but it's a flavour that I'm only just beginning to appreciate after years of skepticism.

Ingredients

225g (2 cups) whole grain spelt flour
275g (a little under 2 1/2 cups) white spelt flour (you can play with this ratio depending on how hearty you want your bread)
4-5 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 teaspoon salt
7g (1 sachet) dried yeast
100g (4 oz) soft goat's cheese
1 medium onion, sliced into rounds
1 tablespoon olive oil
A few sprigs of fresh thyme

Cooking Directions

Put the flour, olive oil and salt in a large bowl.
Dissolve the yeast in a cup (240ml) of warm water and leave for a couple of minutes.
Add the yeast to the flour, oil and salt and knead either by hand or in a stand-mixer for 5 - 10 minutes until smooth and elastic. You may need a touch more water if the dough looks a bit dry.
Add about half of the cheese and half the thyme and continue to knead until they're spread through the dough.
Put in a bowl and cover with a damp tea towel. Allow to rise for an hour or so in a warm place until the dough has doubled in size.
While the bread is rising, heat the tablespoon of olive oil in a large pan. add the onion and cook over a low heat for 30 - 40 minutes until golden brown.
When the dough is ready, shape it with your hands into your desired shape and make some dimples with your fingers.
Drizzle with a little more olive oil, sprinkle with salt and the rest of the thyme. Add the onion and finish with the rest of the goat's cheese pressed into the dimples.
Preheat the oven to 200C/375F. Bake for 25 - 30 minutes until golden brown.

It goes without saying that, for once, this post was written before the events of yesterday which I'm still trying to understand. As someone who is a reluctant runner, I've always been in awe of those who choose to run a marathon and I can't believe that anyone would target a race like this. The stories and images and truly heartbreaking.

peperonata with chorizo and minted yoghurt

2013-04-12T10:01:00.000+01:00

I always remember one of the characters in one of the early episodes of Sex and the City saying that if a relationship ends, it takes you half the length of time of the relationship to get over it.

I think, really, they must have been talking about holidays.

We've been back home from our trip to LA for a week now and I'm pretty sure I must be due another holiday already. I stare at the pictures on my phone, trying to recall every detail of the sea and the sand and the sun.

It's partly that, thanks to the joy of jet lag, we haven't got to sleep much before 2am any night since we got back but mainly just that it doesn't take too many loads of laundry or hours of conference calls to bring you back to reality with a bump.

Which is fine, really, however much I might complain about it. Because if I didn't have to battle with the rush hour tube every morning or try to remember to buy more loo roll on the way home from work, holidays, when they do come round, wouldn't seem quite so special.

I have, however, been trying to cushion the blow somewhat this week by easing myself back into everyday life. I hoped that by recreating one of my very favourite meals of the holiday, I might trick myself into believing that I was anywhere other than sitting at my desk, staring at my laptop screen. I'm not sure it worked completely but, goodness knows, it was worth a try.

Peperonata with chorizo and minted yoghurt
Inspired by a dish at Michael's Santa Monica
Serves 4 or so

The original dish was made with Merguez sausage and topped with goat's cheese before being baked. Once cooked, a little tart yoghurt was spooned on top. This is a slightly more simple version with chorizo, being, as it is, easier to find where I live, and just cooked over the stove. There is a touch of mint running through the yoghurt which brings the flavours alive and cuts through some of the richness. I have eaten it cold for lunch but it's at its best when warm and served with a couple of slices of toasted bread. It is probably more traditional to use chopped tomatoes in peperonata (if, indeed, you use them at all) but a tin of chopped tomatoes is more than adequate, especially at a non-tomatoey time of year.

Ingredients

1/2 tablespoon olive oil
50g (2 oz) chorizo, chopped
A pinch of paprika (optional)
1 medium onion, chopped
1 red pepper, sliced into 1cm strips
1 green pepper, sliced into 1 cm strips
1 x 400g tin of chopped tomatoes
Bread, toasted
100g (1/2 cup) plain yoghurt
A couple of mint leaves, finely chopped

Cooking Directions

Heat the oil in a small pan over a medium heat. Add the chorizo and fry for a couple of minutes until the sausage has started to release its oil.
Add the onions and the paprika, if using, and fry until soft.
Add the peppers and the tin of tomatoes and cook over a low heat for 40 minutes or so until the peppers are soft and the tomatoes have reduced. You may want to add a splash of water if it looks a little dry.
Season with salt and pepper to taste.
To serve, mix the yoghurt and the mint and dollop on top of the peperonata. Serve alongside a couple of toasted pieces of bread.

santa monica & day trips

2013-04-09T10:11:00.000+01:00

santa monica pier // wedding venue

sand // sea

sunset // the georgian // the view

st monica's // santa monica

santa monica // santa monica

laguna beach // birds and clouds

the sea // the beach

palm trees // santa barbara

old town // the pier

getty centre // gardens // getty centre

gardens // view of downtown LA // gardens

buckwheat pancakes with rhubarb and orange compote

2013-04-05T10:36:00.000+01:00

I am totally confused today.

Not only do I not have a clue what time my body thinks it is (but I'm pretty sure I should be asleep), but in 12 hours I went from flip-flop weather to snow. Proper swirling flakes of snow. All the winter clothes that I carefully packed away a couple of weeks ago in anticipation of spring have had to come back out of storage.

I cannot tell you how much I wish I was back here.

I'm pretty sure, however, that you have better things to do with your Friday than listen to me complain so instead I will direct you to the latest issue of delighted magazine which is filled with flowers and pretty clothes and sunshine (as well as my recipe for buckwheat pancakes filled a rhubarb and orange compote).

Happy weekend!

spring onion and parmesan mini quiche

2013-04-01T12:02:00.001+01:00

2013 definitely seems to be the year of the wedding. Not that I'm complaining about that - there's nothing I like more than a good wedding.

And today, I'm joining up with some other lovely bloggers to throw a surprise bridal shower to celebrate Julie's upcoming wedding to her chief taste tester, Jason.

Julie is someone whose bubbly personality just shines through her blog and every interaction that you have with her and I know that she and Jason are going to have such a very happy life together.

My contribution to the party is these little quiches, filled with a bright and sunny mixture of lightly sautéed spring onions, tangy yoghurt and a generous helping of parmesan cheese. Everybody knows that a party isn't a party unless there are mini quiches...

So please join me in wishing Julie and Jason every happiness for their future and have a look at all the deliciousness that my fellow food bloggers have cooked up in their honour!

Blueberry bliss cocktails from Carla's Confections

Smoked salmon crostini from Wanna be a Country Cleaver

Chicken enchilada cups from Gimme Some Oven

Chicken salad crostini from The Realistic Nutritionist

Cappuccino mousse cups from Rachel Cooks

Confetti popcorn from Bake Your Day

Chocolate chip cookie dough cheesecake from Dinner, Dishes and Desserts

Buttescotch biscoff chunk blondies from Chip Chip Hooray

Vanilla cupcakes with purple buttercream from Climbing Grier Mountain

Chocolate eclairs with white chocolate drizzle from Baked by Rachel

Spring onion and parmesan mini quiche

Yield: 12 mini quiche

Ingredients

115g (1 cup) white spelt flour
115g (1 cup) whole grain spelt flour
115g (1 stick) unsalted butter, cold
A pinch of salt
1 - 3 tablespoons ice cold water
2 bunches of spring onions (approx 12 stalks)
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 large egg
80ml (1/3 cup) plain yoghurt
45ml (3 tablespoons) milk
75g (3 oz) freshly grated parmesan
Salt and black pepper, to taste

Cooking Directions

To make the pastry, whizz together the flour, butter and salt in a food processor until you have little pea-sized lumps of butter. Add the water and pulse until just combined.
Gather the pastry together in a ball, press to flatten and wrap in plastic film. Chill for 30 minutes.
When the pastry as chilled, roll it out flat and cut out circles of dough using a large cookie cutter. Place the circles of dough in a 12-hole muffin tin and press down to form the tart shell. Place the tin in the freezer for another half an hour.
Preheat the oven to 180C/350F (fan). Prick the pastry with a fork and, if you have one, place another muffin tin on top of the one with the pastry to weigh it down or just line with paper and fill with baking beans. Blind bake for about 5 minutes. Remove the tin and bake for a further 5 -7 minutes until the pastry is dry to the touch.
While the pastry is blind baking, you can make the filling by gently sauteing the spring onions in the olive oil over a low heat for a couple of minutes.
When the pastry is blind baked, fill it with the cooked spring onions.
Whisk together the egg, yoghurt, milk, most of the parmesan and a generous grind of black pepper.
Pour the liquid over the spring onions and top with a little more of the parmesan. Bake for 20 - 30 minutes until golden brown and firm to the touch.
Serve hot or, as I prefer, cold.

san diego & la jolla

2013-03-29T14:44:00.000Z

french toast // granola // crepes

(breakfast)

mary, star of the sea // seals

la jolla // estancia la jolla gardens

(la jolla)

the star of india // the ship's mast

hms surprise // going down into a soviet submarine

(san diego maritime museum)

polar bear // panda

giraffe // fighting flamingos

(san diego zoo)

flamingos // elephant // gorilla

zebra // tiger // flowers

(san diego zoo)

gaslamp district // victorian buildings

chocolate time // hat shopping

(downtown san diego)

quesadillas and margaritas in san diego

key lime ice cream bar from bardot bars // ghiradelli ice cream

(eats)

I didn't bring my big camera with me so all pictures are via my iphone. Some, but not all, were posted on instagram/twitter mainly so that I could gloat about the sunshine.

spiced cranberry hot cross buns

2013-03-27T00:50:00.000Z

I'm pretty sure that I had a whole post written, in my head at least, to go alongside these hot cross buns but now it's Tuesday afternoon and I'm sitting on the balcony of out hotel room in La Jolla in the afternoon sun and I can't really think of anything that I want to say.

So, if it's okay with you, I'll just leave you with some pictures and get back to my book...

Spiced cranberry hot cross buns

Adapted from a Paul Hollywood recipe

Yield: Makes 12 - 15

As you may be able to tell from the pictures, I actually made a half batch of these for the photographs because nobody needs 12 hot cross buns lying around the week before they go on holiday. Making half a batch involves separating an egg in half which I normally do by beating the egg and then weighing it. I used the other half of the egg to make another small batch of flourless hazelnut butter cookies. I am nothing if not resourceful. This recipe is a bit of a faff (although very easy) as the dough requires three separate rises. I think it's worth the hassle personally.

Ingredients

300ml (1 1/4 cups) milk
50g (a little under half a stick) unsalted butter
500g (4 cups) strong bread flour
1 teaspoon salt
75g (1/3 cup) unrefined caster/granulated sugar
1 sachet (7g) dried yeast
1 egg, beaten
100g (4 oz) dried cranberries
Zest of 1/2 a lemon
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
Olive oil, to grease the cling film

For the cross:

75g (2/3 cup) plain flour

For the syrup:

2 tablespoons unrefined caster/granulated sugar

Cooking Directions

Heat the milk in a pan over a low heat until it is just about to boil, stirring to prevent any scorching. Add the butter and stir until it has all melted and leave to cool until it is warm (the same temperature as your hand ie the temperature at which yeast is activated).
Meanwhile, put the flour, salt, sugar, and yeast in the bowl of your stand mixer with the dough hook attached. Make a well in the middle and add the warm milk/butter and then the egg. Bring everything together with a wooden spoon and then knead the mixture on a low setting for about 5 minutes until smooth and elastic.
Cover the ball of dough loosely with an oiled piece of cling film. Set aside in a warm place for an hour or so until it has doubled in size.
When it has risen, put the bowl back on your stand mixer. Add the cranberries and spices and knead again for a couple of minutes until combined. Re-cover with cling film and allow to rise again for an hour or so until doubled in size.
Divide the dough into equal pieces weighing 75g (3oz). I usually get between 12 and 14 from the mixture.
Place the balls of dough on a baking tray lined with parchment leaving room for them to expand cover, again, with a piece of oiled cling film. Let them rise again for an hour until they have, you've guessed it, doubled in size.
Finally, you're ready to bake! Heat the oven to 200C/375F (fan). Mix the flour with 2 or 3 tablespoons of water until you have a smooth paste and pipe the crosses onto the buns.
Bake for 20 - 25 minutes until golden brown.
While they are cooking, melt the sugar in 2 tablespoons of water. When the hot cross buns are cooked, take them out the oven and brush with the syrup so that they look all shiny and appetising.

chouquettes

2013-03-22T10:22:00.000Z

Normally at this time of year, I'm getting ready for a restorative Easter weekend with my parents in France.

It's a nice tradition that we've developed. Lunch outside in the sun, evenings in front of the fire with a book and a glass of wine. On Easter Sunday, we visit friends for a big and jolly lunch of early season asparagus and roast lamb.

This year, however, I won't be there. This is for two very good reasons. Firstly, the house is currently a building site and last time I checked, my bedroom didn't have a floor.

Secondly, but no less importantly, we're heading off to California tomorrow for 10 days.

We got the invite to a friend's wedding in LA shortly after we got back to the UK after our extended visit in the summer. It took us all of two minutes to RSVP in the affirmative. With the benefit of hindsight, jetting off on an expensive jaunt to the other side of the world is not the most sensible thing to do at the moment but I'm pretty sure that once we get there, we won't care about the practicalities of what we're leaving behind.

This is all part of the new me. The new me that accepts that change doesn't have to be scary and that just because something is different, it doesn't mean that it's worse. Frankly, when the something different involves sunshine and the beach and ice cream, how can it be worst? So as much as I'm missing the traditions that we've build, I'm pretty eager to get on that plane tomorrow and have a very different kind of Easter.

This, though, is my little homage my usual celebrations. All the bakeries in our village have plates of chouquettes piled high of a morning. Tiny little puffs of choux pastry covered in coarse pearl sugar and costing mere pennies. Sometimes I get a little paper bag filled with two or three to enjoy with my morning hot chocolate. I don't know if they are the leftovers of some choux pastry destined for a more extravagant use or if they are made specially but, for whatever reason they make them, I'm glad they do.

Chouquettes

Yield: About 15

Barely adapted from David Lebovitz

I bought my pearl sugar from Ocado; it looks to be a Swedish brand. I've not seen it elsewhere but I imagine that any fancy cake decorating stockists may have some. I like the crunch of the sugar with the crispiness of the chouquettes but you don't have to use it. They're a little drab without a sprinkle of something though.

Ingredients

120ml (1/2 cup) water
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon unrefined caster/granulated sugar
3 tablespoons (45g) unsalted butter
1/2 cup flour (I used a mix of white and whole grain spelt flour)
2 eggs, lightly whisked
Coarse pearl sugar, for sprinkling

Cooking Directions

Preheat the oven to 200C/400F (fan) and line a baking tray with a silicone mat/non stick paper.
In a small pan, heat the water, salt, sugar and butter over a low heat until everything has melted but don't allow it to boil.
Take the pan off the heat and add the flour. Stir with a wooden spoon (or electric whisk) until all the flour has been incorporated and you have a fairly solid mass of dough that pulls away from the sides of the pan.
Allow to cool for a couple of minutes before beating the egg in, bit by bit (you may not need all of it). The goal is to get a smooth paste that you can pipe and it will retain its shape.
Either pipe small amounts of the dough or form a small mound of dough with a teaspoon on the baking tray. Sprinkle with coarse sugar and bake for 25 - 30 minutes until puffy and golden brown.

flourless hazelnut butter cookies

2013-03-19T10:07:00.000Z

Last week, I went back to my old school for a lecture from an author my mother and I both like.

We sat in the audience, as we had done many times over the years, and listened as one of my former teachers welcomed us. If he'd started talking about A-level choices and the university application process, I don't think I'd have been at all surprised.

Unconsciously or not, I'd dressed that morning in an approximation of my school uniform. Grey trousers, a white shirt and a red cardigan. I clutched my blackberry in my hand, scrolling through the emails in a vain attempt to make myself look important or not like the schoolgirl that I felt.

I haven't really been back to my school since I left nearly 11 years ago. I didn't go to either my five or my ten year reunion. I still felt so much like that 18 year old girl that I didn't really feel the need to go back.

It seems that there are reminders of the past every where I look (or perhaps it's just that I'm looking for them?). My ipod shuffles onto songs and albums that I haven't listened to for years and I'm immediately transported back to a place or moment in time. I'm frantically trying to finish my maths coursework having started it the night before it was due in (Fiona Apple's Tidal). Or learning lists of Latin vocabulary by heart until I could recite them like song lyrics (Suzanne Vega's Days of Open Hand). I'm sitting in my room in the first year of university watching the river wind lazily through the cobbled streets and wondering what the hell I'm doing there (Damien Rice's O).

I went to my brother's flat the other day for the first time in years (because it smells funny, not because I don't like him). It was filled with side tables and vases and pictures that used to adorn our family home. In the hall, they have the mirror that was in our bathroom for years. There was even one of my grandfather's golf trophies sitting on the windowsill. I talked to my brother's flatmate who I've known since he was an eleven year old boy and he and my brother first became friends. I picked up one of my dad's old James Bond novels.

After we'd moved away from the town where I grew up, we used to drive through it sometimes on the way back into town from visiting my grandparents. I sometimes wondered what would happen if my dad pulled over outside our old house. How far would I get before I remembered that we didn't live there anymore? The front gate? Halfway up the path? To the front door itself where I would search fruitlessly for my keys? (I suspect the latter)

Whilst I'm almost certain that one day I'm going to open my eyes and discover that I'm 16 again, other parts of my life (work, my boyfriend, moving) demand that I'm fiercely in the present and, as much as it is an anathema to me, the future. I spent so much time feeling like I was torn between the three before realising that, actually, this is probably what it feels like to be a grown up.

Of course, the only thing to do when you feel the sudden onset of adulthood is to make cookies. There's nothing spectacular in these cookies - a jar of hazelnut butter, a dumping of coconut sugar (although you can use whatever you prefer), an egg to hold it all together. The edges are a little crisp, the centres have a satisfying chew. At the last minute, I stirred a handful of chocolate chips through the batter because everything's always better which chocolate chips.

Flourless hazelnut butter cookies
Yield: About 18 cookies
Adapted from these flourless almond butter cookies

The hazelnut butter that I used was fairly liquid (as I imagine it might also be if you use homemade hazelnut butter) so I found it necessary to chill the dough for half an hour or so before baking to stop everything spreading too much. You can make the cookies without the chocolate chips but hazelnut and chocolate is such a perfect combination, I don't really know why you'd want to.

Ingredients

210g (1 cup) hazelnut butter
180g (1 cup) coconut palm sugar (or other sugar of your choice)
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 egg
1 teaspoon baking soda/bicarbonate of soda
A pinch of salt
50g (about 1/4 cup) chocolate chips

Cooking Directions

Preheat the oven to 180C/350F (fan). Line two baking trays with non-stick paper or silicone.
Combine all the ingredients in a bowl with a wooden spoon or your hands. Chill the dough for half an hour or so.
Roll tablespoons of the dough into a ball, place on the baking trays and gently press down with your hands or a fork.
Bake for 9 -10 minutes until the edges start to brown.
Leave to stand on the baking tray for 10 minutes before transferring to a wire rack to cool.

chocolate, ricotta and honey pizza

2013-03-15T11:50:00.000Z

When I was little, I really wanted to be a detective when I grew up.

At various points I also wanted to be a writer, a ballerina, an actress and an a professional tennis player but being a detective was the one thing that I really wanted.

It was probably a result of a literary diet as a child that started with Enid Blyton's mystery books and was fed with copious amounts of Nancy Drew in my formative years. I wanted nothing more than to stumble across a gang stealing thoroughbred horses and foil their dastardly plot or prevent the kidnap of the heir to an obscure European throne. I would scan the newspapers for mysteries that I could crack and would collect cuttings about major bank robberies in case there was a clue somewhere that everyone else had missed.

(It occurred to me while I was thinking about this post that my job now is not unlike what I had hoped for as a child. I'd never really thought about it like that but it was rather gratifying to know that, however far removed all these reports and spreadsheets can seem, fundamentally, I'm doing what I've wanted to do for a very long time.)

I can't have been the only child who had a similar ambition - I know this because I actually had several picture books about how to be a detective. I read these books religiously. I set up an office in my bedroom based on the advice in the books with folders for each 'case' I was working on. I would practice following people in the street or spying on my parents as they were eating dinner and I would jot down what I saw in my precious detective's notebook.

One thing that all of the books stressed was the importance of a detective's powers of observation and memory. And because I really wanted to be a detective, I told myself that I had excellent powers of observation and memory (even if this wasn't really the case).

The truth is that most of life passes me by somewhat. I often don't notice when people have had a haircut. I will ask my mother if she's wearing a new pair of glasses and she will sigh and tell me that she's had them for a year now. I couldn't tell you what tie my boyfriend was wearing today even though I sat opposite him on the tube for twenty minutes. I watch films and read books and, within a couple of hours, I can't remember any of the salient details. So many pictures and conversations and people flash in front of my eyes and most don't even register any more.

When something does stick though, when it doesn't get lost in the overwhelming mess and confusion of every day life, I know it's for a reason. Such was the case with this chocolate, ricotta and honey pizza. There was an article in the February edition of Martha Stewart Living about Table on Ten, a pizza restaurant in Bloomville, New York. The article included a recipe for a potato, onion and goat's cheese pizza which sounded pretty incredible but what really caught my eye was the small picture in the corner of the page that claimed to be a chocolate, ricotta and honey pizza. As soon as I saw those words, I was sold.

It didn't take me long to get into the kitchen and whip up a batch of pizza dough (mine was whole grain spelt pizza dough but you can use whatever you like). There was no recipe in the magazine so I just made it up as I went a long - a generous layer of fresh ricotta, a drizzle of honey, a blanket of dark chocolate and, finally, a sprinkle of sea salt. I baked the pizza in a hot oven for 20 minutes or so until the crust was crisp but with slight softness that paired will with the stickiness of the toppings.

There's no real recipe - it's an idea more than anything - but I hope it's one that will stick with you.

candied grapefruit zest

2013-03-12T11:44:00.001Z

It was Mother's Day here last Sunday.

As both my grandmothers died last year, it was the first Mother's Day for both of my parents without their own mothers. This year, I was more aware than ever that Mother's Day, and similar holidays, can be such a bittersweet occasion.

We have always used Mother's Day as an excuse to get the family together for a riotous lunch and plenty of champagne; this year, a much smaller group of us raised a glass to absent mothers.

I like to think that my mother knows how much I appreciate her. But I fear that in between our email exchanges where I snappishly try to explain how to paginate documents in Word and the reminder texts that I get about whether I've written my thank you letters from Christmas, it probably gets lost.

I know that, in theory, I shouldn't just set aside the fourth sunday of Lent (as it is) for letting her know how much she means to me. I may not want to let her know every day because, frankly, that would be a bit weird and I'm pretty she has better things to be doing with her time, even if I don't. But still, if the last year has taught me anything, it's taught me that I have to make more of an effort because I don't want to wake up one morning and realise that it's too late.

Saying all of that that, I knew that she would appreciate a little package of some of her favourite things (namely caviar and champagne) to mark the occasion. I also slipped in a little bag of homemade grapefruit zest; something that I know she is very partial to. It is such an easy thing to make and, as it will last a month or so in the fridge, is a perfect gift.

Candied grapefruit zest

Yield: About 1/2 a cup

I've done this with orange before but I was a little worried that the grapefruit would be too bitter, hence blanching it four times. I needn't have been concerned though and I probably could have got away with one less blanche - there's plenty of sugar to balance out the bitterness. For a slightly more sophisticated treat, you can dip the candied zest in chocolate rather than rolling it in sugar.

Ingredients

1 grapefruit (I used a ruby red grapefruit)
225g (1 cup) granulated/caster sugar plus a little more for rolling the zest
Several cups of cold water

Cooking Directions

Peel the skin of the grapefruit - I used the little funny poking out bit of my zester but you can just chop it by hand. You don't want too much of the pith but I little isn't the end of the world.
Place the peel in a small saucepan, cover with cold water, bring to the boil over a medium heat and then drain and return to the pan. Repeat two or three times depending on how sweet your grapefruit is.
When the grapefruit has been blanched sufficiently, dissolve the sugar in the pan with a cup of water. Bring it to the boil and allow it to simmer for a few minutes until syrupy.
Add the zest to the pan and cook at a simmer for about 30 minutes until almost translucent. You can swirl the pan but try not to stir.
When cooked, remove from the liquid, pat dry and then, if desired, roll in a little extra sugar. Leave to dry for a couple of hours before serving.

carrot cake with cream cheese and honey frosting

2013-03-08T12:04:00.000Z

I woke up last Sunday morning with a burning desire to make a carrot cake.

This took me very much by surprise as I've never really seen the point of carrot cake and can probably count on the fingers of one hand the number of times I've eaten it, let alone made it.

A sort-of ex-boyfriend (a long story for another day) would always request a carrot cake for his birthday and I could never understand why he always picked that rather than a chocolate cake or, at a push, a victoria sponge. It just seems so...boring.

So I can't really explain why I suddenly felt that there nothing in the world that I wanted to do more than to make and, more importantly, eat a carrot cake but I was powerless to resist the urge.

I'm not sure that I'm ever going to pick carrot cake over chocolate cake but last Sunday morning, as the flat was filled with sunshine and the scent of the ginger and nutmeg in the cake, it was really rather perfect.

Carrot cake with cream cheese and honey frosting

Adapted from BBC Good Food

Yield: A 2lb loaf cake (serves 8)

I made a few small changes to the recipe - olive oil instead of sunflower oil, honey instead of sugar, flour and baking powder rather than self-raising flour. I also played around the with spices based on what I had on hand. I'm not a carrot cake expert by any means but it was rather delicious; a lovely texture and just the right balance of flavours for me. I really don't like sweet frostings so I tend to just sweeten the cream cheese and butter with a little vanilla and a touch of honey rather than pounds of icing sugar but any frosting will do really. I'm having a slightly odd obsession with loaf cakes at the moment. I don't know why but they just seem to taste better to me than round cakes or layer cakes. I'm sure you could bake this as a round cake but you'll probably want to play with the oven temperature and baking time.

Ingredients

For the cake:

150ml (1/2 cup + 2 tablespoons) extra virgin olive oil
2 eggs
120ml (1/2 cup) honey
180g (1 1/2 cups + 1 tablespoon) whole wheat flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon bicarbonate of soda/baking soda
1 teaspoon ginger
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
140g (about 3 large) carrots, peeled and grated

For the frosting:

170g (6oz) cream cheese, softened
55g (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, softened
1/2 teaspoon vanilla bean paste
1 -2 tablespoons honey, to taste
A pinch of salt

Cooking Directions

Preheat the oven to 140C/275F (fan). Line a 2lb loaf tin with paper and grease well.
In a large bowl, beat together the oil, eggs and honey with a wooden spoon.
In another bowl, lightly whisk together all of the dry ingredients. Add the wet ingredients and carrots and lightly mix together until combined.
Pour the batter into the tin and bake for about 50 minutes until the top is firm and brown and a skewer inserted comes out clean.
Leave to cool in the tin before transferring to a wire rack to cool completely.
To make the frosting, beat together the butter and cream cheese until smooth. Add the vanilla, salt and honey to taste and beat until combined. Smooth on top of the loaf cake.

kale and three cheese macaroni cheese

2013-03-05T11:06:00.000Z

My boyfriend is currently working abroad at the moment.

How I feel about this seems to change every five minutes.

Quite a lot of the time, I'm fairly indifferent to be honest. He's still in the same time zone so, when we're both at work, we have our usual email exchanges back and forth. It doesn't really make much difference whether he's sat in his office on the other side of the river or whether he's sat in his office 8,000 miles away.

And I'm so used to one (or both) of us working late or travelling for work that it doesn't seem particularly strange to me to go home to an empty flat and to potter around by myself for a few hours before heading to bed alone.

Other times - the hours leading up to his departures, my solitary dinners in front of the television - I'm slightly overwhelmed by how much I miss him and how much I'm used to sharing my life with him. On Sunday, in the hours before he left for his latest long-haul flight, I refused to let go of his arm, resolute in the belief that, if I didn't let him leave the flat, then he wouldn't have to go away at all. (Then he pointed out that he needed to go so that he could pay the mortgage on our new flat and I decided that he had a very valid point).

In order to keep myself entertained while he's away, I decided to see if I could eat vegetarian. When I was about seven, I told my mother that I was going to become vegetarian. I don't really remember why but I imagine was because someone in a boy band said that it was cool. My mother, in the way that mothers do, pointed out that I didn't actually like any vegetables and that this was not perhaps the best idea I'd ever had. I couldn't really argue with this and so back to my carnivorous ways it was.

Thankfully, my diet has expanded since then but, like so many people, I know we eat too much meat. This is a combination of my dislike of anything fish (my diet hasn't expanded that much) and my boyfriend's long-held belief that a plate of vegetables does not constitute a proper meal.

It's been an interesting experiment and shown me that the world is very much still geared in favour of meat-eaters. It has made me far more mindful about my food choices and, despite what this post may suggest, I haven't just eaten pasta for every meal as I feared might happen. Whether I can convince my boyfriend to change his eating habits on his return is a whole different question though...

Kale and three cheese macaroni cheese

Yield: Serves 2

Adapted from Hawksmoor's macaroni cheese

Hawksmoor is an excellent chain of steak restaurants in London. The meat is serious business there but my favourite part of every meal I've had there has been the rich macaroni cheese that they serve as an accompaniment. I was going to beg my brother, who works in one of their restaurants, for the recipe but luckily I discovered that it was already to be found online. The kale is really my attempt to justify eating three different kinds of cheese in one meal. I made a couple of small changes to the original recipe - apart from the addition of kale. I used corn flour rather than regular flour to make the roux; I always find I get a much better consistency with the former and it means that, if you use gluten free pasta, you have a gluten free macaroni cheese. The other change I made was to adjust the cheese proportions. I'm not a huge fan of stilton and I find a little goes a very long way. Feel free to play around as you see fit though.

Ingredients

150g (6oz) pasta (macaroni or penne works best, can be gluten free)
30g (2 level tablespoons) unsalted butter
30g (1 heaped tablespoon) corn flour (aka corn starch)
400ml (1 2/3 cup) milk
1 bay leaf
A pinch of nutmeg
30g (A little over 1 oz) stilton
50g (2 oz) fresh parmesan, grated
50g (2 oz) mature cheddar, grated
A generous handful of kale (I used cavolo nero), roughly chopped

Cooking Directions

Preheat the oven to 180C/350F fan.
Cook the pasta in a pan of boiling water for about 8 minutes until just about cooked.
Drain the pasta and set aside until needed.
To make the sauce, heat the butter in a large pan over a low heat until it starts to bubble. Add the flour to make a roux and cook for a couple of minutes, stirring all the time.
Gradually add the milk, bay leaf and nutmeg (you can heat it all first, I don't normally bother), stirring constantly until the sauce becomes thick.
Take the pan off the heat and stir in the stilton and most of the parmesan and cheddar, reserving a little of both to sprinkle on top.
When the cheese has melted into the sauce, add the pasta and kale and stir to combine.
Pour the mixture into an oven dish, sprinkle with the remaining cheese and bake for 25-30 minutes until the top is golden brown.

kumquat liqueur

2013-03-01T11:21:00.000Z

I don't really know why you'd want to turn these:

Into this:

I did it because my friends and I once had a night on some kumqaut liqueur that someone had brought back from holiday and became a byword for a good time. When we made plans for a follow up night, I knew what I wanted my contribution to be.

And so, almost nine months ago, I spent a sunny afternoon, combining cheap brandy, a whole load of sugar and some kumquats. A week ago today, I metaphorically gave birth to two bottles of sticky, sweet kumquat liqueur. It was a very proud day.

I think it's fair to say that a little bit of kumquat liqueur goes a long way (and I do worry that a lot of kumquat liqueur might actually make you go blind). It is very, very, very sweet. I enjoyed (sort of) a dash in a glass of cava to make what I like to call a kumquallini and a friend made a passable cocktail with some obscure vanilla liqueur and a touch of tonic water. I would not advise combining it with your friend's homemade limoncello, just in case you were wondering.

I found the recipe on food.com. I didn't, in all honesty, follow it. I left the kumquats in there for months, rather than the weeks recommended. I didn't turn it as often as I should because I put the bottles under the spare bed and promptly forgot about them. I did leave it to mature for six months but again, mainly because I kept forgetting about it. I have no idea what effect, if any, that had on the final product.

On Sunday morning, I realised in my kumquallini-induced haze that this blog was actually two years old. In some ways, not a lot has changed in the last two years and yet it feels a lifetime ago (and I don't think that's just related to the amount of kumquat liqueur consumed in the last two years). I do so appreciate being able to come here and ramble on about whatever is uppermost in my mind and I am always, always, always touched by your emails and comments and tweets. Thank you for being here and indulging me.

PS - if you're reading this on my actual blog, I apologise for the fact that the site looks a complete mess at the moment and it looks like I've signed some kind of sponsorship deal with photobucket. I haven't. There's a problem at their end which my designer is trying to sort out.

PPS - it should be pretty much fixed now.

almond cake

2013-02-26T09:24:00.000Z

Today, I'm guest posting over at my darling lemon thyme. Emma's blog is one of my favourites - if it's new to you, you're in for a real treat. I'm thrilled to be filling in for her while she puts the finishing touches to the book.

Emma's recipes are vegetarian and mostly gluten and dairy free and so I'm sharing this simple little almond and olive oil cake which is all of those things but, more than anything else, is really quite delicious.

leek, feta and lemon quiche

2013-02-21T12:32:00.000Z

Last weekend, it felt like we were really starting to see the first signs of Spring.

With a soul-crushing inevitability though, this week has turned out to be cold and wet and grey.

Last weekend though, I went out wearing jeans and sparkly flat shoes rather than boots. I bought a light summer coat and some seriously adorable anchor print trousers. It was sunny and, even better, it was warm in the sunshine.

I was full of anticipation for the end of winter and enthusiasm for warmer temperatures. It seemed logical for me to channel that excitement into a quiche.

I always think of quiche as a summer food mainly because I have a slightly odd aversion to warm quiche. I think/hope that everyone has these funny little quirks about their eating habits and one of mine is most definitely the temperature of food. I like very hot food and I like cold food. I dislike anything in between. The idea of eating something at room temperature makes me feel slightly nauseous. There are some foods that I will only eat hot (like rice, for example) and there are some foods, like quiche, that I will only eat cold.

And so, a slice of quiche should, in my opinion, be enjoyed cold with a light salad and a glass of white wine on a balmy evening.

Even this week, when it seems like winter is fighting back and I'm glad that I still had a pair of gloves in my coat pocket, a little of this quiche every day for lunch has given me a moment of hope.

Leek, lemon and feta quiche

Lightly adapted from Food 52

Yield: Serves 6

This is a really lovely quiche that combines a lot of my very favourite flavours. My pastry was made from whole grain einkorn flour (for more information about einkorn flour, have a look at Shanna's incredibly informative post). For those of you in the UK, Dove's Farm makes a brand of einkorn flour which you can buy direct from them although it's also stocked by Ocado. The 100% whole grain pastry may not be to everyone's taste - I happen to think it works very nicely with the bright flavours of the quiche - so feel free to use your favourite pastry or just, as the original recipe suggests, a sheet of puff pastry.

Ingredients

200g (1 3/4 cups) einkorn flour
100g (1 stick less 1 tablespoon) unsalted butter, cold
A pinch of salt
1 egg, beaten
4 leeks, washed and chopped into 1/2 inch slices
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 cup of creme fraiche
3 eggs
The zest of half a lemon
Black pepper
75g (3 oz) crumbled feta cheese

Cooking Directions

To make the pastry, whizz together the flour, butter and salt in a food processor until you have little pea-sized lumps of butter. Add the egg and pulse until just combined.
Gather the pastry together in a ball, press to flatten and wrap in plastic film. Chill for 30 minutes.
When the pastry as chilled, roll it out flat and line a 19cm tart tin (preferably with a removable bottom). Place the tart tin in the freezer for another half an hour.
Preheat the oven to 180C/350F (fan). Prick the pastry with a fork and line it with some non-stick paper and fill with baking beans. Blind bake for 8 minutes. Remove the paper and beans and bake for a further 5 -7 minutes until the pastry is dry to the touch.
While the pastry is blind baking, you can make the filling by gently sauteing the leeks in the olive oil over a low heat for 5 - 10 minutes until soft.
When the pastry is blind baked, fill it with the cooked leeks.
Whisk together the creme fraiche, eggs, lemon zest and a generous grind of black pepper.
Pour the liquid over the leeks and top with the crumbled feta. Bake for 30 - 40 minutes until golden brown and firm to the touch.
Serve hot or, as I prefer, cold.

chocolate covered graham crackers

2013-02-18T12:36:00.000Z

My mother often accuses me of not thinking before I act.

I'm pretty sure that all mothers accuse their children of this at some point in their lives.

I don't think I'm the worst offender by any means (and sometimes I spend far too long considering the potential consequences of my actions until I drive myself mad) but I do have a habit of, for example, dumping my bag by the front door so that my boyfriend trips over it or shoving half opened packets of flour into a precarious gap in the cupboard so that the slightest movement sends it tumbling to the floor and coating my kitchen in a blanket of white.

The story behind these biscuits (I'm feeling English today) is a similar one of my thoughtlessness.

When we were in San Francisco back in the summer, I spent a few hours exploring the city while my boyfriend was doing something complicated involving spreadsheets and his fantasy NFL team. And by exploring, I really mean shopping and by the city, I really mean Williams-Sonoma.

Sadly, trans-Atlantic flights are not really conducive to carrying large amounts of kitchen equipment and so I focused my attentions on some of the perishable items that we could enjoy during our holiday. I alighted upon some really rather marvellous sounding chocolate covered caramelised graham crackers from Kika's Treats and promptly bought several bags.

One bag was consumed in the safety of our hotel room. The other was to journey with us to Sonoma and was safely tucked away in my bag.

We got to Sonoma a few hours before we could check into our hotel and so we left the car at the hotel and wondered into the town to eat a lot of cheese and drink plenty of wine. After a few cold and foggy days in San Francisco, we reveled in a hot summer's day in wine country. When we got back to the car, slightly the worse for wear, I realised that I had left my beloved biscuits in full view of the sun and they had turned into a soup of melted chocolate with little floating pieces of biscuit. Oh, I could have wept and I cursed myself for not stopping to think before leaving them unattended.

So, that is the tragic story of how I didn't think before I acted and therefore didn't get to eat as many chocolate covered caramelised graham crackers as I wanted. Living, as I do, in a country where the graham cracker is an unfamiliar beast, I knew I was going to have to take matters into my own hands if I wanted to rectify this sorry state of affairs...

Chocolate covered graham crackers

Yield: Makes 30 - 40 depending on size

Adapted from Miette: Recipes from San Francisco's most charming pastry shop and inspired by Kika's Treats

I'd had graham crackers on my mind since last summer and then I saw Melissa of The Faux Martha post a recipe that was adapted from the Miette cookbook. It is a very pretty book but one that I've always been slightly too intimidated to bake from so Melissa's post was just the push I needed. I slightly played with the ratio of white to whole wheat flour as well as using a different type of sugar and a touch of treacle/molasses to try and replicate the caramelised effect that I was after. I dipped mine in milk chocolate because, try as I may, I still prefer it to the dark stuff but you can use whatever you want. They are not exactly the same as the ones I enjoyed in San Francisco but they're not far off.

Ingredients

170g (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
115g (1/2 cup + 1 tablespoon) muscovado sugar
1 tablespoon honey
1 tablespoon treacle/molasses
115g (1 cup) whole wheat spelt flour
115g (1 cup) white spelt flour
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt
200g (8 oz) chocolate of choice

Cooking Directions

Beat together the butter, sugar, honey and treacle in a stand mixer or with an electric whisk until smooth and fluffy.
Whisk together the dry ingredients and add to the wet in three batches, beating on a low speed until just incorporated.
Gather the dough together with your hands, roll into a flat disk and wrap in clingfilm.
Chill in the fridge for half an or so.
Preheat the oven to 160C/325F, line a couple of baking trays with a silicon mat or non-stick paper. Take the dough out the fridge and rest on the side for 5 minutes.
Roll the dough out between two pieces of non-stick paper until about 1/4 inch thick.
Cut out desired shapes and place on the baking tray.
Bake for 12 - 15 minutes until firm to the touch.
Allow to stand for 10 minutes before transferring to a wire rack to cool.
Once the graham crackers are cool, melt the chocolate in the microwave or in bain marie. Dip the cookies in the chocolate and place on a wire rack until set.

spiced treacle loaf

2013-02-15T12:06:00.000Z

It is one of those strange paradoxes of life that the more you have, the less you seem to need.

I notice it most frequently when it comes to my wardrobe. The more clothes I have (and as my boyfriend will tell you, I have a lot of clothes), the more I tend to wear the same handful outfits on rotation.

There are pairs of my shoes languishing in every cupboard - last weekend I was looking for a scarf and I found about 10 pairs that I'd completely forgotten about - and yet all I really need are my converse and a couple of pairs of flat shoes for walking to work in the morning.

As the years have passed, my kitchen equipment has become better stocked. From the shiny black stand mixer and gleaming red food processor on the counter to the fancy graters and knives in the drawers, not to mention the growing collection of plates and bowls that are piled high on the shelves.

And yet, more and more, I'm drawn to recipes that don't require any expensive equipment or any particular investment of time. Give me a mixing bowl and a wooden spoon and I'm far happier than when I'm standing over a machine, watching it do my job for me.

It is, I suppose, a reaction against a world that is filled with the noise of all our options and choices - all those shoes (both real and metaphorical) lying around the flat that I don't really need. Something quick and easy and straightforward, like this cake, can end up feeling like a luxury.

I had grand plans to bake something complicated last weekend but it was cold and wet and grey and all I really wanted was to be eating cake in the quickest possible time and with the least effort on my part. This is a a real dump it all in the bowl and give it a stir kind of recipe. There's no need even to take anything out of the fridge in advance; just turn the oven on and go. In a life packed full of 'stuff', it's a welcome reminder of just how good the simple things can be.

Spiced treacle loaf

Adapted from Mary Berry's treacle spice cake

Yield: A 1lb loaf (serves 8)

I've made this cake in its original form before, at a similar time of year. Quite apart from pouring it into a loaf tin rather than a square tin, I made some tweaks to the quantities and included two of my favourite cake ingredients - olive oil and ground almonds. The robustness of the treacle and spices mean that whole wheat flour works very nicely here but I would imagine that gluten free flour would also be fine. With the olive oil and almonds, you won't get too much of that chalkiness that gluten free flour sometimes has. The lemon glaze is optional but adds a little touch of brightness to remind us that winter is nearly over.

Ingredients

For the cake:

135ml (1/2 cup + 1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
90g (1/2 cup) muscovado sugar
170g (1/2 cup) treacle (or molasses)
3 eggs
165g (1 1/2 cups) flour (I used whole wheat spelt this time but most flours will work)
40g (A little under 1/2 cup) ground almonds
1 3/4 teaspoons baking powder
A pinch of baking soda/bicarbonate of soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ginger
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg

For the glaze:

25g (1/4 cup) icing sugar
1 - 2 tablespoons lemon juice

Cooking Directions

Preheat the oven to 150C/300F (fan) and line a 1lb loaf tin with non-stick paper.
Put all the ingredients on a bowl and beat together with a wooden spoon until combined.
Pour into the baking tin and bake for 45 - 55 minutes until firm to the touch and a toothpick comes out clean if you poke it in the middle.
Leave the cake to cool in the tin for 10 minutes before transferring to a wire rack.
When the cake has cooled, make the glaze by mixing together the sugar and lemon adding more sugar or lemon juice if needed to reach a pourable consistency.
Drizzle the glaze over the cake and enjoy!

crispy chilli beef

2013-02-12T10:44:00.000Z

Valentine's Day has taken my slight by surprise this year.

(In other words, I haven't bought my boyfriend anything yet).

A few weeks ago, we decided that we weren't going to go out for dinner anywhere this year. Like new year's eve, it's one of those nights which never seems to live up the anticipation if you go out. We've had a few fancy meals out over the years, including one that gave my boyfriend a very romantic bout of food poisoning, but this year, with the prospect of moving house and a couple of expensive holidays on the horizon, we decided to save our pennies and spend the evening at home.

Since then, I haven't really given it a second thought. I still need to work out what we're going to eat on Thursday night.

The half hour that we sneak for dinner is almost always my favourite part of the day. I'm not always either the most organised or the most inspired of cooks during the week and so we have a rotation of favourite dishes, most of which can be on the table in less than half an hour and which come together with minimal fuss. This recipe fulfils both those criteria. It is quick and requires no preparation or special ingredients - the tangy (and most likely incredibly inauthentic) sauce is made from store cupboard staples which we almost always have on hand. Apart from that, it's just a little meat (and a little really goes a long way) and a few vegetables thrown in a pan.

Crispy chilli beef

Adapted from a BBC Good Food recipe

Yield: Serves 2

This recipe is from the January 2013 issue of the BBC Good Food magazine. We've made this a few times now and always enjoyed it. The beef doesn't always go as crispy as you might want - it depends really on how hot your oil is. You could also use a bit more oil, as the recipe calls for, to deep fry them a little more but that amount of oil scares me. I've also tweaked the quantities of the sauce slightly so it tastes a little fresher and slightly less acidic.

Ingredients

200g (8oz) steak, cut into thin slices (like matchsticks if possible)
2 tablespoons cornflour/cornstarch
1 teaspoon chinese five-spice
3 tablespoons flavourless oil
4 spring onions, white and green parts separated and chopped finely
1 red chilli, finely diced
1 red pepper, sliced thinly
1 clove of garlic, finely diced
1/2 teaspoon chopped fresh ginger
2 tablespoons white wine vinegar
3/4 tablespoon sweet chilli sauce
1/2 tablespoon soy sauce
1 tablespoon tomato ketchup
2 tablespoons water

Cooking Directions

Coat the beef in the corn flour and chinese five-spice and set aside.
Heat the oil in a large frying pan until sizzling hot, add the beef and fry for 3 or 4 minutes until crispy.
Remove from the pan and set aside to drain.
Pour off a little of the oil and put the the pan back on the heat. add the chopped white spring onions, chilli, pepper, garlic and ginger and heat for a couple of minutes until softened but not browned.
Mix together the various sauces and the water and pour into the pan. Bubble for a couple of minutes before adding the beef and cook until warm through.
Serve over rice or noodles, sprinkled with the green parts of the spring onion.

cashew butter cups

2013-02-08T09:59:00.000Z

We keep talking about things that will happen when we move. Whilst the weeks are slipping from me, lost in a blur of meetings and telephone calls and spreadsheets, I feel like our lives are on hold.

I'm gradually un-stocking the kitchen and trying not to panic when I see the empty shelves. I wander from room to room, mentally making a list of what we are and aren't going to have a place for in any new flat. I spent far more time than anyone should debating whether I should buy some more loo roll or if we have enough to last us until we move. There's always that phrase 'until we move', 'when we move'.

Which is slightly ridiculous as we're unlikely to be moving any time before the start of the summer.

And then, there's everything that I think is going to be different when we move. I will keep our new flat tidy - I won't leave shoes scattered throughout the flat. I'll make the bed every morning before I leave for work. We won't ever get to the end of the week and discover that we've run out of clean underwear because we forgot to do the washing.

I have a picture in my head of what life is going to be like when we move. I know the reality is not going to be anything like that. Realistically, there are plenty of things that are never going to change about me and about our lives. We're still going to spend our evenings, curled up on the same sofa together we are here, our same blue and white plates balanced on our knees. Moving house doesn't make you any more of a different person than the start of a new year or getting a haircut does.

It's liberating though, to think that maybe I can use the move as a catalyst for some smaller changes in my life. I like to make a lot of what we eat from scratch (within the confines of the practicalities our jobs and lives demand) but I've got lazy in the last couple of months, affected by the same ennui that makes me reluctant to do anything that doesn't involve looking at floor plans online and trying to decide what colour curtains might work in our hypothetical new bedroom. When we move, I hope that we can get into some better habits. Starting, of course, with chocolate.

Cashew butter cups

Yield: 20 - 25 cups

I'm certainly not the only person to have made these or a variation of some nut-butter filled chocolate cup. Shanna posted some delicious looking peanut butter cups last year and I'm not sure I can stop thinking about these salted caramel peanut butter cups since I saw them before Christmas. Because cashew butter is quite rich and creamy, and because I was using a mix of milk and dark chocolate, I decided not to add any sugar to the filling which was definitely the right choice because they are the perfect balance as they are. I used a touch of coconut oil (which you can't taste at all) to firm up the filling a little - I'm sure butter would also work if you prefer. They are difficult to stop eating but curiously satisfying.

Ingredients

140g (2/3 cup) cashew butter (you can make your own if you prefer)
1/2 tablespoon coconut oil
1 teaspoon vanilla bean paste
1/2 teaspoon salt
200g (8oz) chocolate (I used a mix of milk and dark but you can use whatever you prefer)

Cooking Directions

In a small pan, melt together the cashew butter, coconut oil, vanilla and salt and stir with a wooden spoon until smooth. Set aside to cool to room temperature while you make the chocolate cups.
Set out 20 - 25 mini cupcake cases on a baking tray.
Melt the chocolate in a bowl over a pan of barely simmering water.
Using a teaspoon, coat the bottom and the sides of the cupcake cases all the way to the top (this should use about half your chocolate). Chill for 10 minutes or so until firm to the touch.
Add a generous teaspoon of the cashew butter to the cups and top with another teaspoon of chocolate, allowing it to spread to the edges of the cups. You might need to quickly warm the chocolate again if it starts to go a bit hard.
Chill the cups again until the chocolate is firm. I find these do better in the fridge because my cashew butter was fairly liquid.