Writing at the Kitchen Table

Now, A Reason to Use Up That Sherry....

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 30 Nov 2007 11:32:00 +0000

If you have ever wondered what to do with the bottle of sherry that your friend brought back from Spain, I (or rather Delia Smith) have the perfect recipe.
I am not a big sherry drinker, finding it too heavy and sweet for sipping purposes. However, it is an excellent all-round alcohol for cooking with, whether you want to add a bit of depth to a stir-fry or gravy, bolster a rich, meaty ragu or to bring out the natural sweetness of berries. You might even use it in a trifle.
Sherry, or particularly Marsala, is used to it's greatest success though in that most traditional of all Italian sweets, Zabaglione. A simple mousse-like dessert, comprising of egg yolks, sugar and Marsala (but other sweet wines can be used for different flavour) whisked in a double boiler, until light and fluffy. There is a charming story from 15th Century Italy that describes the initial process of how Zabaglione was discovered. A skillful and fierce Umbrian nobleman called Giovan Baglioni (known locally as Zvan Bajoun) was forced to keep his army of men happy (apparently they would switch sides if they were not given suitable rations – a case of politics being ruled by the stomach) when they were fighting and, discovering that he only had some eggs, honey and sweet wine at his disposal, ordered his cooks to boil everything in a pan and serve up the resulting dish. The solders so enjoyed this sweetened, slightly frothy mixture that they asked for seconds, slept soundly that night and fought with such vigour the next day that the surviving opposition asked them what was their secret. They simply replied Zwanbajoun. Over time, the name has been refined to Zabaglione, the method has been made simpler and the honey replaced with sugar. However, It is still considered as a “pick-me-up”, no doubt due to the high alcohol content, although I am not sure if the Italian army are still served it as part of their daily menu!

Delia Smith, Britain’s first true TV domestic goddess, has generously visited Harry's Bar in Venice on our behalf, sampled the many Venetian treats they have to offer and returned with a truly stunning torte that is both simple and wonderfully delicious, Harry's Bar Torta di Zabaglione.
An all in one, featherlight sponge cake, so light as to be almost of pudding texture, filled generously with a rich, thick Zabaglione-inspired cream.
The cream needs to be chilled for at least two hours, so make this first. The cake can also be made a few hours in advance and wrapped in clingfilm when cooled, ready to cut in half when you are.
It is simple enough to serve for a casual afternoon tea on Sunday but looks glamorously pale enough to be served for a special occasion too. In her book, How to Cook Pt.3, Delia ices the sides but leaves the golden top plain, just dusted with icing sugar. However, you may find, as I did, that this was a little hard to achieve. Despite being chilled, the filling remains just a bit too creamy to give a perfect presentation to the cake. I simply slathered it on all over. And you will have cream left over. Just eat it with a spoon. Cooks treat, of course.

Oh, and it is just as good a couple of days later, providing it has been well fridged. At this point, heavily laden with the boozy cream, it really does become pudding like. And terribly, wonderfully, moreish.
The perfect Pick-Me-Up!

HARRYS BAR TORTA DI ZABAGLIONE from Delia Smiths How to Cook Book 3
Ingredients:
For the Zabaglione filling:
3 large egg yolks
3 oz (75 g) golden caster sugar
1½ oz (40 g) plain flour, sifted
9 fl oz (250 ml) Marsala
12 fl oz (340 ml) double cream
For the cake:
4 oz (110 g) self-raising flour
½ level teaspoon baking powder
2 large eggs, at room temperature
4 oz (110 g) very soft butter
4 oz (110 g) golden caster sugar
¼ teaspoon vanilla extract
a little sifted icing sugar, to dust

You will also need a 1½ in (4 cm) deep sponge tin, 8 in (20 cm) in diameter, lightly greased and the base lined with silicone paper (baking parchment).
First of all make the Zabaglione filling. Using an electric hand whisk, beat the egg yolks for 1 minute in a medium bowl, then add the sugar and beat until the mixture is thick and pale yellow (about 3 minutes). Next, whisk in the flour a tablespoon at a time, mixing in very thoroughly, then gradually whisk in the Marsala.
Now tip the mixture into a medium heavy-based saucepan and place over a medium heat. Then, cook the mixture, stirring constantly, until it has thickened and is just about to boil; this will take about 5 minutes. Don't worry if it looks a bit lumpy, just tip it into a clean bowl, then whisk until smooth again. Let the custard cool, whisking it from time to time to stop a skin forming. When it is cold, cover with clingfilm and pop in the refrigerator for at least 2 hours. Pre-heat the oven to gas mark 3, 325°F (170°C).
Meanwhile, make the cake. To do this, take a large mixing bowl, place the flour and baking powder in a sieve and sift into the bowl, holding the sieve high to give them a good airing as they go down. Now all you do is simply add the other cake ingredients to the bowl and, provided the butter is really soft, just go in with the electric hand whisk and whisk everything together until you have a smooth, well-combined mixture, which will take about 1 minute. What you will now end up with is a mixture that drops off a spoon when you give it a tap on the side of the bowl. If it seems a bit stiff, add a little water and mix again.
Now spoon the mixture into the tin, level it out with the back of a spoon and place the tin on the centre shelf of the oven. The cake will take 30-35 minutes to cook, but don't open the oven door until 30 minutes have elapsed. To test whether it is cooked or not, touch the centre lightly with a finger: if it leaves no impression and the sponge springs back, it is ready. Remove it from the oven, then wait about 5 minutes before turning it out on to a wire cooling rack. Carefully peel off the base paper, which is easier if you make a fold in the paper first, then pull it gently away without trying to lift it off. Now leave the sponge to cool completely.
To assemble the torta, whip the double cream in a large bowl until stiff, then add the Zabaglione custard to the bowl and whisk again until thoroughly mixed. Place the cake flat on a board, then, holding a serrated palette knife horizontally, carefully slice it into 2 thin halves. Next, reserve 2-3 heaped tablespoons of the Zabaglione filling to decorate the sides of the cake and spread the rest of the filling over the bottom half, easing it gently to the edges. Place the other cake half on top and press down very gently. Before you spread the mixture on the sides of the cake, it's a good idea to brush away any loose crumbs, so they don't get mixed up in it. Now, using a small palette knife, spread the reserved filling evenly all around the sides of the cake. Finally, dust the top with the icing sugar before serving. If the cake is made and decorated ahead of time, store it, covered, in the fridge (to keep it firm), but remove it half an hour before serving
(recipe taken from directly from Delia's website, as I cannot possibly improve on it!)

A Sweet Thanksgiving Pt.2

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 27 Nov 2007 12:07:00 +0000

The second of our Sweet Thanksgiving desserts, Banana Cream Pudding, holds a very special place in my heart for two reasons. Going way back to my childhood, a stripped down version of Banana Cream Pudding, sliced banana smothered in packet custard. A virtually instant and gratifying finish to a homely meal. I feel particularly fond of Banana Custard because it is my grandfather’s favourite pudding; in fact anything with bananas is his favourite. My grandad was the one who first showed me how to slice a banana before peeling it, and afterwards he would have to feign mock surprise as I demonstrated my new trick to him.
The second reason I am so fond of Banana Cream Pudding is that the true ingredients of the dish, Vanilla Pudding and Nila Wafers remind me of my first road trip to the US with my then-to-be husband, Paul. We put on pounds travelling around US, eating Nilla Wafers from the box and scooping out various flavours of Pudding with our our already Cheetoe-orange strained fingers. I later returned to the UK with boxes of powdered pudding in all sorts of lurid flavours and broken Nilla Wafers that hadn’t entirely survived the manhandling of the luggage handlers.
I hadn’t eaten banana custard OR Nilla wafers OR pudding for some time and Paul had requested that his Mom send us a box of the wafers over in a large care box containing several now-well thumbed issues of Gourmet Magazine. Suffice to say, the request for Banana Cream Pudding was soon demanded but I was given one proviso: I cannot use custard, I have to find a recipe for Vanilla Pudding. Just between me and the UK readers, custard is a fairly good representation of Pudding, particularly if you make it really quite thick, or use a cartoned brand (they keep forever – literally – in the pantry).
However, in this instance, I conceded and found a recipe on the Nabisco (home of the Nilla Wafer) website. Pudding is easy to make, flour, sugar, milk, egg yolks whisked up in a double boiler until the lumpy gloop turns smooth and thickens. It is then liberally, generously blanketed over sliced bananas and Nilla Wafers (there is no UK substitute for these – and, even though I am a biscuit connoisseur, I cannot think of a similar alternative. Some of those fancy Breton-style Butter rich shortcake biscuits would be just as yummy though), covered with Meringue and flashed briefly in a hot oven to brown. I thought that a sweet meringue topping would be too much sugar so replaced this with another childhood favourite, Dream Topping.
Dream Topping is our nearest equivalent to America’s Cool Whip, an amazing demonstration of what a evil genius with a craving for whipped cream but no refrigerator and open access to a cupboard full of chemicals, can produce. Both Dream Topping (a powder that you whisk up with milk) and Cool Whip are airy creams, with no hint of dairy flavour and a slightly sweet demeanour. I find both of them completely alluring and perfect for this already calorie laden pudding.
You can, of course, use regular whipped cream or go for the meringue option.
For a real retro treat, here’s how to whip up Banana Cream Pudding:
BANANA CREAM PUDDING
serves at least 6-8
Ingredients:
5 Bananas, peeled and sliced, sprinkled with a little 7-up or lemon juice to stop them browning
1/2 Cup Sugar
1/3 Cup Plain Flour
Pinch Salt
3 Egg Yolks (reserve the whites for meringue topping, if making)
2 Cups Milk
½ Teaspoon Vanilla Extract
Box Nilla Wafers (or similar buttery-style biscuit)
Whipped Cream or a Sachet of Dream Topping or Cool Whip (if not making the meringue)
METHOD:
In the top half of a double boiler, whisk together the flour, sugar and pinch of salt. Then whisk in the milk and egg yolks. Place over the bottom half of the double boiler (which will need to be quarter filled with water and brought to a brisk simmer).
Whisk mixture for 10-12 minutes, or until thickens.
Pour a little of the mixture into a heatproof serving dish, layer with the Nilla Wafers or biscuits, then a layer of sliced bananas.
Repeat this layering twice more, ending with the Pudding.
If you are going for the cream topping, slather all over the top and decorate with some more Nilla Wafers and slices of banana.
If you want to make the meringue topping, whisk the egg whites until stiff, pour in a quarter of a cup of sugar and whisk until stiff and glossy. Spoon over the pudding, taking care to cover over all the edges and bake in a pre-heated oven (175c) until browned, about 15-20 minutes.
Spoon into large bowls and straight into mouth.
Enjoy!

Pot Stickers

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 21 Nov 2007 12:24:00 +0000

Dim Sum are not particularly popular over here in the UK yet. I mean, it took us more than 40 years to catch onto sushi and I still can’t imagine anyone over the age of 70 relishing a delicious Salmon Skin Roll. My own grandfathers’ face, contorted into a mask of disgust at the thought of cold rice AND raw fish, will be forever etched into my mind when I first introduced him to the joys of supermarket sushi (and, as our dear old Coney would say, leave ‘em be).
Dim Sum is another matter altogether though. There is no searingly hot chilli to contend with, no raw fish to dice with and the chopsticks are entirely optional. Add all these winning factors to the irrefutable fact that they taste mighty fine and you’re onto a winner.
Or so you would think.
A local Dim Sum restaurant has opened up near us. Keen to visit, we checked out their website, only to be greeted with incredibly expensive delicacies that will surely mean that the death knell of this local restaurant is looming with great rapidity.
Why so expensive though? Sure, Dim Sum are fiddly, they are delicate and dainty. But the ingredients are dirt cheap. Pork Mince? Prawns, and seasonings. We are not talking about lobster and caviar folks, just honest, decent ingredients served in whimsical (to a Brit) steamers. Alas, in this instance, the name Dim Sum (roughly translated: Order to your Hearts’ Content) is – as usual - betrayed by British commercialism and greed.
But, there is hope for those of us who are not fortunate to live near a Dim Sum restaurant that offers great value as well as great food: make your own!
Don’t be shocked, it’s easy to wrap things in, er, wrappers. You’ve made egg rolls, right? Used Filo pastry? Wrapped a Band-Aid around your bleeding finger, using your non-dominant hand? Dim Sum are, therefore, a piece of metaphorical cake.
And, if you’re scared of wrappers, then take heart. Not all Dim Sum is fiddly. Chicken Feet, Spare Ribs, Congee Rice all take the form of Dim Sum. And for the sweet-toothed among you, there are the delicious dumplings, tarts and puddings, made with Red Bean Paste, Mango, Tapioca and, curiously, very little chocolate at all.
If you’re feeling particularly adventurous, you can organise a Dim Sum feast for friends and get most of the prep work completed the day before.
As for us, sitting here all smug proselytising about the joys of Dim Sum, we can confirm that yes, we have made some and yes, they were entirely successful, if not aesthetically pleasing (although for a first attempt, still quite cute really): Savoury Dumplins’, known in China as Jiaozi and in Japan as Gyoza.
The dumplings, little savoury morsels of ground pork, prawn, water chestnuts, cabbage, ginger etc, encased in Wonton Wrappers can be poached, steamed or shallow fried (Pot Stickers), served with a dipping sauce or dropped into broth. I favour the Pot Sticker method. It gives a delicious triple texture: the tender upper half of the dumpling which is steamed, the bronzed derriere and the innards, both soft and crisp, depending on the filling. Pot Stickers are traditionally served at special occasions and when turned out, they certainly look stunning when turned out onto a serving platter.

And, despite them looking complex, they are simple to prepare (Paul even made his own Wonton Wrapper dough, which was incredibly quick, simple and easy to work with) and it would be fun to get your guests in the kitchen, forming the little dumplings and arranging them in the frying pan, then digging in with chopsticks around the cooker.
We served our Pot Stickers with some takeaway noodles and rice, but they make a filling treat by themselves.
To make your own Dim Sum Delight, here's how:

SHRIMP AND PORK POT STICKERS (from Gourmet Magazine Feb 2006)

Ingredients:

Dough:

(or you can use ready made Wonton Wrappers which are available on your local Asian supermarket or deli in the chiller)

1.5 Cups Plain Flour

1/2 Cup Lukewarm Water

Filling:

3 or 4 Water Chestnuts (I used canned), chopped into small dice

1/2Lb Prawns, chopped

1/4Lb Ground Pork

3/4 Cup Chopped Spring Onion (about 4-5)

1.5 Tablespoons Soy Sauce

2 Teaspoons Minced Ginger

1 Teaspoon Sesame Oil

METHOD:
To make the dough, stir together the flour and water in a bowl until roughly combined. Turn out onto a lightly floured board and kneed until a smooth dough is formed. Add a little more flour if the dough is too sticky.

Wrap in clingfilm and refrigerate for at least 10 minutes to an hour.

Whilst waiting for the dough to chill, you can mix the filling together by throwing all the ingredients into a large bowl and mixing well. The filling will be sticky. Refrigerate until ready to use.

To make the wrappers, roll out the dough until very thin, the thickness of a sheet of kitchen roll, cut into 3.5" rounds using a smooth biscuit cutter, lightly dusting them to avoid them sticking together. You should get 24 rounds out, reusing scraps.

To form the dumplings, hold a round wrapper in the palm of your slightly cupped hand and, using a measuring tablespoon (rather than a serving tablespoon), scoop some mixture onto the middle of the wrapper. Wet one half of the edge with some water and bring the edges up to the middle and crimp with your finger tips until completely sealed. We did this part wrong and folded them in half, like little Empanadas. If you find this easier, you will still get an impressive looking turnout in the end.

Once you have made the 24 dumplings, heat 1 tablespoon of peanut oil in a 10" frying pan over medium high heat.

To arrange the dumplings, place 7 in the middle of the pan in a simple Chrysanthemum shape, then arrange the remaining dumplings around the outside. You may have to jiggle them around a little to fit, but they will go.

Cook over relatively high heat for 3-5 minutes (depending on how hot your hotplate gets) until the bottoms are browned. We actually needed longer than this because our oven is very temperamental.

Once evenly and deliciously browned, pour over 1/2 cup warm water. It will sizzle a little. Tilt the pan to ensure that the water is evenly distributed, cover and steam for about 10 minutes.

To turn out, carefully get a large plate with no tilting edges, hold over the frying pan and flip over quickly but carefully.

Serve with some dipping sauce, Sweet Chilli is always popular but I mix up my own with a little Soy, a little Nam Pla (Fish Sauce), some Lime Juice, a sliced red chilli, minced garlic and ginger and some sugar to taste. Leave for at least an hour for the flavours to mingle. This sauce keeps really well in the fridge too.

Enjoy!

Another Daring Weekend

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 30 Jul 2007 06:40:00 +0000

This month's Daring Bakers challenge comes courtesy of baker extraordinaire, Peabody and of course, it wasn't an easy one.

After last month's gentle Bagel challenge, the Strawberry Mirror Cake sounds pretty fancy, right? A swiss roll sponge adding gentle support to a Barbie pink Strawberry Bavarian Cream, topped with the mirror element: a ruby clear jelly, flavoured with strawberry juice and a liberal dash of Kirsch.

I would never have dreamt of making this cake, imagining it to be horribly complex but, aside from being time-consuming and a bit fiddly, it was actually very simple.

Having a fear of gelatine after several nightmarish experiences with leaf gelatine, I have since found that the powdered stuff is the way to go. It might seem a little more old-fashioned than those charming little panes of gelatine glass but trust me, the powder will set anything to the thickness of a rubber tyre if you add enough of it.

This isn't a cake you would make for everyday occasions. It is quite expensive to make, utilising several punnets of fresh strawberries (and for some reason, fresh fruit is always cost-prohibitive over here) but I think it would be wonderful for a pink-loving girl's summer birthday party. It is visually stunning enough to receive plenty of oohs and ahhs. Flavourwise though, it was unsophisticated, reminding me slightly of Strawberry Angel Delight topped with Strawberry Jelly, the sponge reminscent of Frozen Swiss Roll cakes.

However, if you were to sharpen the mousse up with raspberry and blackberries, I think this cake could be suitable for a grown-up dinner party instead.

In spite of my disappointment with the final flavour though, the cake was a glowing success. Paul has taken it to work for the final taste test so only time will tell if it's merely my fussy tastebuds or if the cake really was bland. I feel particularly proud of myself for producing a cake with such a stunning mirror finish, and I would like to thank Peabody for choosing the Mirror Cake and for making me bake outside of the box (so to speak).

For those of you non-Daring Bakers who are tempted by this lovely looking cake and want a challenge, here's the recipe:
STRAWBERRY MIRROR CAKE - serves easily 8

Ingredients:

Cake and Soaking Syrup
3 eggs
3 egg yolks
¾ cup sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
3 egg whites
1/8 tsp cream of tartar
2 TBSP sugar
2/3 cup sifted cake flour
½ cup water
1/3 cups sugar
2 TBSP kirsch or strawberry liqueur
Strawberry Bavarian Cream

2 ½ TBSP unflavored gelatin
1 ½ cups strained strawberry puree(1 ½ baskets)
5 egg yolks
2/3 cup sugar
1 ½ cups milk
1 TBSP lemon juice
several drops of red food coloring
1 ¾ cups whipping cream
Strawberry Mirror
1 tsp lemon juice
1 TBSP kirsch
1 TBSP water
1 TBSP unflavored gelatin
Few drops of red food coloring
Strawberry Juice
1 ½ pints of strawberries(18 oz)
¾ cup sugar
¾ cup water

METHOD:
1.Preheat oven to 450F. Butter and flour the sides of an 11-by-17 inch jelly roll pan(rimmed baking sheet). Line bottom of pan with a sheet of parchment paper cut to fit bottom pan exactly.
2.Beat eggs, egg yolks and ¾ cup sugar together in a medium bowl until thick and light. Beat in the vanilla.
3.In a separate bowl, beat the egg whites until foamy, ad cream of tartar and beat until whites begin to form peaks. Add the 2 TBSP sugar and beat until the whites hold stiff, glossy peaks(do not over beat).
4.Sift flour over the egg yolk mixture and fold in . Stir in one fourth of the whites. Then carefully fold in the remaining whites.
5.Spread batter evenly in pan. Bake until light brown and springy to touch(7 to 10 minutes). Cool in pan 5 minutes. Run a knife along edge to loosen. Invert cake tin to cut out 8 ¼ inch circles of cake. Wrap the cake layers, separated with waxed paper, and set aside. Cake may be frozen at this point.
6.To make soaking syrup: Combine water and the 1/3 cup sugar in saucepan; bring to a boil to dissolve sugar. Cool to room temperature; flavor with liqueur. Set aside or refrigerate in glass jar until ready to use.
7.To assemble cake: Brush sides of 10-inch springform pan lightly with flavorless salad oil or almond oil. Cut out a cardboard circle that is exactly the same size as the bottom inside of the pan; cover cardboard with aluminum foil and fit into bottom of pan. Center one layer of the cake bottom of pan. Brush the cake with some of the soaking syrup to just moisten(not drench) the cake; set aside.
8.Prepare Strawberry Bavarian Cream. Immediately pour about half of the Bavarian Cream over the first layer of cake in the pan. Set the next layer of cake on top of the cream. Pour remaining Bavarian Cream over cake and smooth top of the cream with spatula. Refrigerate until the cream sets(1 to 2 hours).
9.Prepare the Strawberry Mirror.
10.To serve: Wrap a hot towel around the outside of springform pan for a few minutes. Run a small sharp knife tip around the edge of the Strawberry Mirror to separate it form the sides of pan. Mirror will tear when sides are unlatched if it is stuck at ANY point. Slowly unlatch the pan and slide it off the cake. Slice cake in wedges and serve in upright slices.
Prep Work:
Strawberry Bavarian Cream

1.Sprinkle the gelatin over the strawberry puree in a small bowl and set aside until spongy.
2.Combine egg yolks and sugar in a bowl' beat until light. Bring milk to a boil in sauce pan. Pour hot milk into yolk mixture ans stir with a wooden spoon(it doesn't say so but I would temper the egg mixture first to be safe). Return this mixture to the saucepan and cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until your finger leaves a clear trail in sauce when drawn across the back of the spoon.(Do not boil or mixture will curdle.) Immediately remove from heat and stir in softened gelatin mixture. Pour into a stainless steel bowl places over a bowl of ice water. Stir in lemon juice and a few drops of red food coloring. Cool over ice water, stirring occasionally, until mixture thickens to the consistency of softly whipped cream.
3.White gelatin mixture is cooling, whip the whipping cream until it holds soft peaks. When the gelatin mixture resembles softly whipped cream, fold the whipped cream into the gelatin mixture.
Strawberry Mirror:
1.Prepare strawberry juice.
2.Place lemon juice, kirsch, and water in a small bowl. Sprinkle gelatin over this mixture; set aside until spongy and soft.
3.Measure 1 ½ cups Strawberry juice into a small saucepan and bring to a simmer; pour over gelatin mixture and stir to dissolve gelatin. Tint to desired color with red food coloring. Place bowl over bowl of ice water and stir occasionally until the mixture is syrupy and just beings to thicken(do not let jell); remove from ice water.
4.When mixture is syrupy, pour a 1/16-inch layer over the top of cake. Refrigerate until set.
Strawberry Juice
Wash and hull strawberries; coarsely chop. Place strawberries in saucepan; crush to start juices flowing. Place over low heat; add sugar and water; simmer slowly 10 minutes. Pour juice and pulp through damp jelly bag or cheesecloth-lined colander and drain into a bowl for 15 minutes(Do not press down on fruit).
Adapted from Cakes and Pastries At The Academy by the California Culinary Academy 1993

More Simple Food

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 11 Jul 2007 10:30:00 +0000

There exists a special alchemy between Pork and Cabbage. Served apart, they are delicious, but when cooked together, the co-joining of the strong, definite flavours produces something truly sublime.

Europeans have long known the brilliant simplicity of using as few ingredients as possible in their cuisine. Not only does this spring out of frugality but from the sheer knowledge of the flavours.
Whilst some of us are lucky enough to be seemingly born with that knowledge of ingredients, it can also be learned through time and tasting.
This gathered experience warns us that certain foods are not good together. For example, cheese is rarely served with fish, beef isn’t generally served in a white wine sauce and ketchup isn’t poured over a roast dinner. However, there are always exceptions to every rule and it is wonderful to find an obscure taste sensation in the most unlikely place, the most recent of which might be salted caramels.
Even people with the most jaded taste-buds will know that some foods just belong together: cheese and tomato, chicken and tarragon, cabbage and sausage.
I know, the coupling of sausage and cabbage could sound like a nightmare school dinner. Washed out flabby cabbage with gristly, synthetic pink sausages that are more water and sawdust than anything resembling pork are the things bad childhood meals are made of. But imagine this! Crisp Savoy cabbage, dark green and rich in iron, combined with artisinal sausages that are now so easy to find in any supermarket, accessorised with a blanket – no, pashmina – of thick cheese sauce, then browned in a hot oven until golden and bubbly. Served with nothing more than some crusty bread or Pommes Anna, this is an easy, all-in-one dish guaranteed to satisfy that intrinsic need for comfort food. Thank heavens for the always reliable Jane Grigson with her wealth of knowledge and non-fussy dishes. This recipe comes from her indispensable Vegetable Book.

SAUSAGE AND CABBAGE IN THE DUTCH STYLE serves 4 with a side dish

Taken from Jane Grigson’s Vegetable Book

Ingredients:
1 Large Cabbage, Savoy is best for flavour but you can use almost any kind, shredded and par-boiled.
8 Excellent Quality Sausages
A little Olive Oil (Jan Grigson recommends using lard so you could use this instead)
3 Heaped Tablespoons Plain Flour
2 Tablespoons of the oil from the cooked Sausages
¾ Pint Milk
2 Tablespoons Grated Cheddar or Parmesan, grated – a strong flavoured but good melting cheese is needed
1 Tablespoon Gruyere, cut into small dice or grated
Seasoning and fresh Nutmeg
METHOD:

Preheat the oven to 180c. Drizzle a tablespoon or two of the olive oil into the bottom of a roasting tin and place in the oven to heat up.

When the oven and oil are hot, place the sausages into the hot fat. They should sizzle immediately. Return to the oven and roast for about half an hour, turning once or twice to ensure a fairly even brown.
Meanwhile, parboil the cabbage. Leave to drain in a colander.
Once the sausages are richly coloured, remove from the oven and drain off 3 tablespoons of the oil (the sausages will have exuded some) into a large saucepan.
Stir the drained cabbage into the sausages and return to the oven whilst you prepare the sauce.
Add the flour to the sausage oil, turn the heat up to medium high and cook briskly to make a roux.
Pour over the milk and whisk until thickened. The sauce needs to be thick as the cabbage will still give off some water, thus diluting the sauce further in the oven. Season with salt, pepper and a rasp of nutmeg.
Remove from the heat and stir in the cheeses, whisking well to ensure that they are melted thoroughly into the sauce. Taste again for seasoning.
Remove the cabbage and sausage from the oven (turning the oven up to 220c), ladle over the sauce and mix well. Sprinkle over some grated cheddar or Parmesan if desired and return to the oven for another 10 minutes or so. You will hear the bubbling, indicating when it’s ready to serve.
The cabbage will have turned an unctuous sticky brown on the underside, seasoned generously by the sausages and the sauce will be coating everything snugly.
Serve with some sliced potatoes (Pommes Anna) or perhaps a green, bitter salad to counter the richness. Thick crusty bread is an essential.
Enjoy!

Omelette Arnold Bennett

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 29 Jun 2007 09:40:00 +0000

It is an accolade indeed to have a dish named after you, particularly if that dish becomes deeply ingrained within the lexicon of the modern kitchen.
The most famous of all, Pavlova, named after Prima Ballerina Anna Pavlova, is still a favourite dessert in homes and restaurants across the world, since its conception back in 1926. And indeed, the antipodeans seem to have the edge on culinary namesakes: Peach Melba (a fruity, ice cream concoction invented for Australian Opera singer Dame Nellie Melba by no less a culinary luminary than Auguste Escoffier), Lamingtons, and Anzac Biscuits (not strictly named after a person, but an important historical event).
It is an indication of our enduring love of good food that it is considered an fitting tribute to have a dish named after you. Indeed, even most families have a - slightly more informal - arrangement: cakes/biscuits/style of roasting chicken named after grandmothers, great Aunts, mothers. This fond sentiment is a way of retaining the memory of a loved one by remembering something wonderful that they used to do for you.
And of course, we don’t just memorialise the dead. Dishes are mostly created for living people, to observe special visits or achievements. Omelette Arnold Bennett is such a dish. Created in the 1920s by the chefs at the Savoy Hotel to commemorate author and playwright Bennett writing his novel, Imperial Palace, whilst staying at the Savoy this dish should be a true British classic. Indeed, it remains on the Savoy Menu to this day.
Reminiscent of Kedgeree but without the spices, Omelette Arnold Bennett has been somewhat forgotten, Bennett’s own literary reputation overshadowed by his supposed greed, or perhaps misplaced honesty:

"Am I to sit still and see other fellows pocketing two guineas apiece for stories which I can do better myself? Not me. If anyone imagines my sole aim is art for art’s sake, they are cruelly deceived."

This begs the question though, if a dish is good, should that be penalised because the namesake's reputation is not? Omelette Arnold Bennett is as wonderful and nourishing a breakfast, lunch or supper dish as you could hope for. It is briskly prepared, an softly cooked omelette, covered with chunks of smoked haddock, then gently swathed in double cream and cheese and finally browned under a hot grill. It is comforting and tasty.
The joy of this dish is its simplicity but also the symbiosis of the ingredients. The cream, the smoked fish, the omelette and the cheese are just made for each other.
If you have trouble locating Smoked Haddock, you could use an unsmoked but flavourful, flaky white fish or possibly even salmon. A sprinkling of Parsley would also add an interesting green element. British chef Gary Rhodes takes the dish to its absolute culinary (but fiddly) pinnacle by using the haddocks poaching milk and making a delicately infused white sauce which is then poured over the omelette. These all digress from the perfection of the original, but it is better to have something that is similar than not at all.
And here’s the recipe:
OMELETTE ARNOLD BENNETT serves 2
Ingredients:
6 Free Range, Organic Eggs, beaten and seasoned with some salt and pepper
200g Undyed Smoked Haddock, poached in a little milk or water with a bay leaf and some peppercorns (about 15-20 minutes poaching time or until it starts to fall into big, creamy flakes). When cool, break up into flakes and remove any small bones and the skin.
You can also use a non-smoked flaky fish such as salmon, unsmoked haddock or cod, just be sure to poach it using the same method.
6 Tablespoons Double Cream
2 Tablespoons Grated Parmesan
20g Butter
METHOD:
Preheat your grill/broiler to it’s highest setting.
Melt the butter in a non-stick pan over a medium high height.
Pour in the beaten, seasoned eggs and cook until they are dry around the edges but still very moist in the middle.
Remove from the heat and sprinkle over the flaked haddock.
Spoon over the cream, ensuring that the entire omelette and fish has a thin coating all over. Sprinkle over the Parmesan and place under the hot grill.
When brown and bubbling, gently transfer to a plate and serve with perhaps a leafy salad.

Enjoy!

A Colloquial Cake

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 10 Jun 2007 09:35:00 +0000

In this household, Claudia Roden's Middle Eastern cookbooks are the ones I turn to when I want to make a speedy and unusual cake. Remember the Walnut and Syrup cake baked to celebrate Passover? Her recipes are ideal for those of us with food allergies or intolerances even if we don't need to adhere to some of the religious reasons that her recipes don't use those specific ingredients (for example, flour at Passover).
I have been thinking about baking a cake with apples and seeing as Paul was using up my stash of cooking apples with rapidity, I had to work fast. We were going out for a picnic the following day to belatedly celebrate my Mum's birthday so I consulted Roden's Book of Jewish Food once more and found the ideal cake: Apple Cake.
Unfortunately, Paul had depleted my store of apples by half, leaving me with just three smallish apples, so I had to make up the numbers with pears instead. Paul had decided not to eat these yet as they weren't ripe. Phew.
Many middle eastern cakes are made using a larger quantity of eggs and less flour, the eggs separated and used to enrich the flavour, to lighten the sponge and also to prolong the life of the cake. This particularly recipe was also devoid of fat so great for people watching their cholesterol who don't want to compromise their sweet tooth.
Furthermore, this cake makes a delicious warm pudding when served fresh from the oven, drizzled with cream (for those cholesterol watchers, ignore that bit about cream) or custard but is also just as delicious served cold, cut into chunky wedges.
And if that isn't enough to make you want to try this simple, unassuming cake, it also looks beautiful, the glazed, sugar encrusted apples and pears producing a skill-free 'icing'.
I fiddled with the recipe slightly to make it extra-appley, adding a dash of apple brandy and then renaming it The Cockney Rhyming Slang Cake (apples and pears - get it??) . Considering that this recipe appears in the Angl-Jewry section of her book though, it is not as trite as it sounds.
However, Roden's original recipe is the definitive version and my alterations are merely to satisfy my need for experimentation. I have noted in italics my own minor tweaks should you too wish to experiment.
CLAUDIA RODEN'S APPLE CAKE (or, Freya's Cockney Rhyming Slang Cake)
Ingredients:
6 Apples (or a combination of apples and pears - plums would be good too), peeled, cored and cut into rough crescents
Juice of one and a half lemons
4 Eggs Separated
150g Sugar (I used golden caster sugar to add an additional caramel taste which works really well with the fruit)
140g Plain Flour
Good Slug of Apple Brandy or similar Liqueor
2 Tablespoons Melted Butter or warm vegetable oil
1 Teaspoon Cinnamon
1 Tablespoon Demerara Sugar or Brown Sugar for sprinkling
METHOD:
Pour a third of the lemon juice in a bowl of water and as you slice the apples/pears, throw these in the acidulated water to stop them turning brown whilst your prepare the cake batter.
Butter and flour a 9" Cake Tin. Preheat oven to 180c.
Beat the egg yolks with the sugar, add the remaining lemon juice and the slug of apple brandy, then beat in the flour in 3 or 4 additions, beating well.
Whisk the egg whites until stiff and fold these gently into the batter.
Pour half the mixture into your prepared tin.
Layer half the apple/pears on top of the batter, then pour over the remaining batter.
Arrange the second half of apples/pears on the top of the batter in a circular pattern, then brush with the melted butter or oil, and sprinkle over the cinnamon and demerara sugar.
Bake for about 45 minutes to an hour or until the top is golden brown and the sugar caramelised.
Leave to cool slightly in the tin before turning out and serving.
Enjoy!

Once again, pictures are to follow. We have borrowed a digital camera from a friend but they haven't found the cable for the camera yet so please bear with us!
Also, thanks to everyone who emailed me their best wishes - I am feeling much better now and normal service (including pictures) will be resumed as soon as possible!

Some Old Favourites....and Some More That Just Didn't Make It

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 01 Jun 2007 06:30:00 +0000

I always consider these "and here's some I didn't blog about" posts to be a bit like sawdust or clip shows - a sort of filler because there's a lack of inspiration and/or time. And that's exactly the case here. Well, I'm not suffering from lack of inspiration but more lack of time. This Boiga Ballyhoo that Paul insanely embroiled us in is in full swing in our kitchen and there seems to be no end in sight.
Not only are we grilling every evening (and, I admit it, sometimes just using the griddle pan - rain, you know) but we also have a 'social' barbecue organised for Saturday. I am refusing to eat any more burger based food products and am instead doling check sheets out to our hosts and forcing them to mark the burgers out of 10 instead.
Don't get me wrong. We had a fantastical response and every single burger sounds absolutely delicious. It really will be hard to judge which lucky person will be the recipient of a 5 gallon drum of Goatslick...that's why I'm passing the tasting duties onto our friends.
But I digress. There is one thing that separates this post from a compilation episode of the Simpsons - you haven't seen these dishes before. Or have you? Some of them are old favourites of mine that I wrote about last year and wanted to share them with those of you didn't catch the posts last year (why not, I ask!). So, without fanfare and further ado, here's the grub....
1) Smoked Haddock and Watercress Tart. This classic Tamasin Day-Lewis from her Art of the Tart book comes from a frantic tart baking spell that I went through last Autumn. I am still a huge advocate of anything that can be stuffed into a pastry shell, being a carbohydrate addict, and will take any opportunity I can to make a pie/flan/tart etc.
This recipe won't be of much interest to our transatlantic friends who don't have privy to as many smoked goods (of the food variety) as us Brits and more is the pity. Smoked Haddock is a smoky, salty fish with the texture of cod but much more flavour. Brits have been eating it for breakfast with poached eggs or as part of a Kedgeree for many years and our smokeries are rapidly coming back into fashion, after a decline in interest.
Unless, like lucky Christine over at My Plate or Yours, who has her own smoker (and check out her smoked prawns and cheese for more reasons why you need to buy a smoker), you may find yourself confronted with smoked products that have been dyed (haddock was an unnatural shade of saffron until only a few years ago) or chemically smoked. This is not a natural process so check the labels carefully. Artificial smoking really does not taste good at all.
The symbiotic relationship between the smoked fish and the watercress is thrilling and this is truly a tart for an old fashioned picnic. I get asked by my Mum to make it all the time. If you do manage to get hold of some smoked Haddock, the recipe is here..

2) And now for something that looks really good but was completely disastrous: Beef Empanadas.
The premise seemed like a recipe for success: beef simmered with some gently spices, onions and olives, then stuffed into a pastry circle and baked. I told you I liked stuffing things in pastry.
The recipe, culled from the UKTVFood website recommends simmering the beef for about half an hour. An hour later and mine was still like boot leather. The flavour was boring and the pastry tough, although Paul did a wonderful job of folding and crimping the Empanadas into their distinctive shape. This hasn't put me off making Empanadas again, just remind me to look for a slightly more traditional recipe.

3) A delicious vegetarian classic that fulfils my "quick, it's the end of the month and we have virtually nothing left in the freezer" quota, Black Bean and Aubergine Chili.
Actually, I used Black Eyed Beans instead, because I love their nibbly little bite and nutty flavour which works so well in this dish. Any fervent meat eater would be hard pressed to pinpoint this specifically as vegetarian. The Aubergine is fried off and then added to the chili at the end to heat through. Any chili dish that is ready within 45 minutes is good with me.

3) Another disaster: Oatmeal Meringues.
I have been checking out this recipe in a baking cookbook for a while, just imagining how delicious the combination of oatmeal and meringue would be.
I thought I would be clever and use golden caster sugar instead of normal white, processed sugar, thinking it would give a yummy, caramel texture to the meringues. I know this works because I have made meringues with golden caster sugar before.
However, I'm not sure if leaving the meringues in the oven for 2 hours on a low heat contributed to the cremated mess that you see before you or if the oatmeal just didn't like being baked for a long time. I am definitely not going to let these beat me though and I have two egg whites sitting waiting for me in the freezer, next time I feel like a challenge.

4) Magic Lemon Pudding. The pudding that really does live up to it's name, separating from a lemony batter into a light sponge top with a tangy citrus bottom.
I have fond memories of this dish. I last served it to Paul's family when they visited at Christmas time and I recall that his brother Mark was particularly enamoured of the dish, literally licking the baking dish clean and having to go to hospital to have third degree burns on his tongue treated. Later on, he started injecting the lemon pudding, such was his need for a fix. Am I kidding? After eating sardine cookie sandwiches, you may never know the truth.

5) Ina Garten's Parmesan Chicken. Simply the best recipe I have ever tried for this long time family favourite. I just cannot get enough of Parmesan Chicken. It is simple, tasty and quick. And to a lesser extent, healthy.
I actually taste-tested a recipe for Cooks Illustrated that required a lot more faff and the flavour wasn't as good. I have yet to cook an Ina recipe that has failed me.
The next time I make this recipe, I really want to make a sandwich out it, stuffing a soft white roll with lettuce, mayonnaise and tomatoes and then a thick slab of crisp-coated, cheesy, tender chicken. I think that would be ultimate chicken sandwich.
So, I hope that you've enjoyed taking this glimpse into our kitchen, and I take this opportunity to wish you all a happy weekend. If I eat another burger, I fear that I may be hospitilised for some time....

Daring Bakers III - The Bakers Bite Back

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 26 May 2007 18:14:00 +0000

After the almost crippling Martha Stewart Crepe Cake of last month, that monstrous creation that nearly brought so many of us to our knees, this month's challenge seemed to be a walk in the park.
I mean, it comprised merely of homemade puff pastry, a cooked patisserie cream and choux pastry, not to mention a demonstration of our piping skills and confidence with molten sugar. This could never be as infuriating, as exasperating and as disappointing as Martha's Cake.
However, this month's challenge, chosen by pastry chef extraordinaire, Helene, was always going to be something fantastical: Gateau Saint Honore.
And of course, Gateau Saint Honore is a traditional French cake, made as a somewhat fitting tribute to Saint Honore himself, the Patron Saint of Pastry Bakers. And as I've already mentioned, this gateau really does pull out all the stops. As, I suppose, you would expect the Patron Saint of Pastry Bakings' very own gateau to do. Since Saint Honore was the seventh bishop of French City Amiens during the 6th Century AD, one can only assume that their primitive bakeries were fantastical places to visit, much as they are today. And, although the bishops honorary gateau was supposedly not devised until the mid-18th Century, I wonder how many of the techniques utilised were of his invention? It is thrilling to imagine people eating caramel coated creme puffs during the time of Smallpox (according to Wikipedia, not much else happened in 600AD, other than the Persians beginning to use windmills for irrigation and Chess first being played) and Vandalism.
But I digress. I have never made puff pastry before, having never had a reason too. I have always found bought puff pastry to be oily and too puffy, it splinters into all of those tiny, wafer thin shards that stick to your clothes and your teeth. Most bought puff pastry is not even made with real butter. So, this was my first challenge.
Making Puff Pastry is a simple but somewhat tedious procedure. It is necessary for you to start in the morning due to it's SIX HOUR resting period which is interspersed with rollings and turnings. I, of course, chose to start it at 3pm. Fortunately, there was plenty of TV (although I am still mourning the end of Dawson's Creek and praying for the new series of America's Next Top Model - yes, it's intellectual viewing for me all the way) and Challah to be getting on with.
Slightly alarmed at the rapidity with which some of my fellow bakers had produced their Gateaux, I thought I should probably get a wiggle on and start the pastry, to be followed a few days later by the cream.
Ah yes, Diplomat Cream. An incredibly rich filling for the choux buns, made with flour, eggs (separated and the whites whisked to concrete stiffness), sugar, milk, double cream and vanilla extract. It is as luxurious as you might expect, although mine turned a slightly disconcerting shade of grey whilst languishing in the fridge for a couple of days. The strict notes we were given were "no chocolate, no coffee - this must remain white" - I did try Helene, honestly!
Today was the final assembly of the cake. This entailed making the choux buns, piping them full of the delicious Diplomat Cream and then dipping them in caramel.
Choux Pastry is incredibly easy and I had no qualms about this element at all. And for anyone who thinks that they can't make profiteroles at home or even a ramshackle Croquembouche - you can! It is much easier to work with than normal pastry. None of that tedious kneading and rolling and worrying that it might crack or you might get a soggy bottom (on your pie, saucy!). You just need to be good with the wooden spoon and have enough brain cells to squeeze a piping bag. And Paul and I are living, working proof of this.
One place where I became unstuck (or rather stuck in this case) was dipping my filled choux buns in the molten, hotter than Venus caramel. I got a little cocksure, so to speak, and instead of using the recommended tongs, I used my fingers. I now have a big, puffy, blistery thumb and first finger. And believe me, if you don't want to incur a hot caramel burn, you'll be smart and follow directions. It really does hurt. I surely empathise with those poor victims of the Boston Molasses Flood of 1919. I can only imagine what it must be like inhaling scorching molasses into your lungs.
But enough doom and gloom. Finally, the gateau is assembled. The gateau looks a little tottery, dilapidated and rickety. But it's my tottering, dilapidated, rickety gateau and I am as proud as hell of it.
Oh, the flavour? Imagine ordering the most outrageous dessert on the menu at an upper class restaurant. Now, forget all that. What would you expect this to taste like? It's puff pastry, choux pastry, vanilla patisserie cream and whipped cream and crunchy caramel. Each mouthful is like a thousand tiny bursts of sugar on your tongue, subdued only minutely by the crisp pastries. And each mouthful leaves you wanting more until your stomach begs you no more. A wholly satisfying dessert that has left me feeling proud for making my own puff pastry and diplomat cream.

For the Daring Bakers, the sky is the limit!
Oh, and if you're feeling daring yourself, click here for the recipe in full and a rundown of all the other gals who took part!

Another Way to Serve Macaroni Cheese...

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 24 May 2007 10:38:00 +0000

....Or this weeks Presto Pasta entry.

I have yet to meet someone who dislikes Macaroni Cheese. However, it can be a little bland, a little too sloppy, a little too dry, not enough cheese etc.
My husband makes a great Mac and Cheese, which I allude entirely to his secret cheese sauce recipe. I know his secret ingredient but I’m not spilling the beans....yet.
When I make Macaroni Cheese, I am never quite satisfied with the results, so I am on a permanent perfect pasta quest. Luckily there is lots of inspiration available online, through other food bloggers and in cookbooks. It would appear that Mac and Cheese captures our imagination in a way that can only be rivalled by Hamburgers.
My mum recalls a story about when I was very young. She would feed me macaroni cheese and I would suck all the sauce from the tubes which I would then feed to our black Labrador, Monty.
This isn’t the only Macaroni Cheese (from here onwards referred to as MC) story. Another time, my cousin Stuart poured a whole container of salt onto my MC and dared me to eat it. Bravely or stupidly (I favour the latter), I ate quite a substantial amount and then promptly regurgitated it, Linda Blair style.
Fortunately for those around me, my table manners have improved considerably, as has my intake of salt, but I still love the soft, gentle creaminess of MC. It is one of the first ‘solid' foods that many of us eat, along with sweetcorn, and for this reason I think we hold it close to our hearts – and even closer to our stomachs. Our first baby steps towards eating true, grown up foods.

Whilst surfing the UKTVFood website looking for ways to use up my cauliflower (and here's what I did with the rest of it), I came across this recipe for a posh version of MC. Now, this seems to me to be a contradiction in terms. Of all things, MC is not posh. It is homely, cosy, comforting, simple...but it is not posh or sophisticated or edgy.

However, there was something in the recipe that grabbed me. It wasn't that it was served in filo cups - pointless and frou frou. Nor was it the final sprinkling of chilli and coriander - seems like an afterthought to me. In fact it was the simple addition of some boiled cauliflower and a non-roux based sauce that won my heart. I had very few of the ingredients required so I reworked the whole dish, and stealing inspiration from Ina Garten's recipe for Chicken with Biscuits, used up some homemade puff pastry ("What??? You made homemade puff pastry? Why haven't we been informed of this development in your ongoing cooking skills?" All in good time is all I have to say right now) and came up with this Macaroni Cheese with Cauliflower and Puff Pastry. (Oh, and I do realise that biscuits aren't made with puff pastry - it's a visual thing).

It is a great way to use up any leftover cauliflower (and you could use other vegetables too, carrots, broccoli, green beans), scraps of pastry (which I always freeze for occasions such as this) and if you find you don't quite have enough pasta. In fact, I used small and large Macaroni tubes. Furthermore, the original recipe requires a melting cheese like Gruyere as the base for the sauce, I completely ignored this and used dried up nub ends of Cheddar, White Leicester and some Parmesan. I would think that you could use almost any combination of cheeses, or even stir in some cream cheese to make it extra unctuous.

So, if you find yourself stuck with all the above ingredients and nowhere to go, try this:

MACARONI CHEESE WITH CAULIFLOWER AND PUFF PASTRY - serves 2-4 (depending on if you serve extra veg with it)
Ingredients:

300g Macaroni or similar tube pasta, cooked as per packet instructions, drained

100g Cauliflower, cooked, drained

150g Grated Cheese which a good melting texture, any combination, Gruyere, Cheddar, White Leicester, Emmental, Edam, etc. Blue cheese would be fabulous too!

50g Grated Parmesan

6 Egg Yolks (freeze the egg whites for meringue)

Some Scraps of Puff Pastry (of course, frozen is fine) or Shortcrust Pastry (optional)

Worcestershire Sauce

Cayenne Pepper

Salt, Pepper

Squeeze Fresh Lemon Juice

METHOD:

Preheat oven to 180c.

If your pasta and cauliflower isn't leftovers, cook it all together in a large pan with plenty of salted water, until al dente.
In a large saucepan over very gentle heat, whisk together the egg yolks and cheeses until melted together (don't do as I did and place the eggs over a high heat because the hot plate doesn't cool down quickly enough and end up with partially cooked egg yolks before the cheese has even touched it. Don't worry, I just about managed to bring it back again, with lots of frantic whisking). If you find that the sauce seems to be a bit lumpy, add some milk or cream to thin it down slightly and make it smoother.

Add a dash of Worcestershire Sauce, Salt, Pepper and Cayenne Pepper to taste.

Add the cauliflower and macaroni to the sauce, mix well and pour into a ovenproof dish.
Roll out the pastry and cut out large circles to resemble biscuits. I thought afterwards that it would be cute to do little star cut-outs too but it was too late at this point.
Sprinkle over some grated Parmesan and bake for about 20-25 minutes, until the pastry is puffed and golden.
Serve with some green vegetables and enjoy!

Sugar High Friday # 31 Welcome Back Ricotta

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 23 May 2007 06:37:00 +0000

Tara at Seven Spoons is hosting this month's Sugar High Friday and her theme is inspired: Neutral Territory. We have to create a perfectly pure, muted, simple, non-gaudy, pale, never seen the sunshine sweet.
In stark contrast to last month's SHF, Flower Power, where stunning bursts of colour were seen on blogs across the world, Tara wants us to share our puddings in every shade of Magnolia.
As someone who has spent her life being pale and interesting, I was thrilled at this month's theme. And I knew I was going to use the pot of Ricotta in the fridge but how?
There have been so many other fabulous entries so far, ranging from a virginal Millefeuille to a sublime Illes Flotante, from a daring Coconut and White Chocolate cake to a recherche Mochi. Who knew that there was so many different flavours of white?
For the second month running now, I have turned to Tessa Kiro's beautiful book, Falling Cloudberries, in particular the section on Greece. Beautifully photographed, it is hard to decide exactly which recipe to use. Kiros’s book is wonderfully evocatively multi-cultural; her parents are Finish and Greek and her husband Italian. Falling Cloudberries is compiled into several ethnic chapters, one for each country she has lived in and she reproduces and reworks traditional recipes from each of those countries in an accessible manner.
Coming from a cold European country, the Greek recipes are more alluring to me than those from chilly Finland, however, there is a frosty beauty to these calming, warming dishes that is just as appealing and brings to mind Diana Henry’s Roasted Figs Sugar Snow indispensible book.
But, Summer beckons and I have an unbearable craving for something fried. Deep fried but light at the same time. Of course, unless you happen to visit our local chip shop, deep frying generally ensures that the food is crisp and light, albeit saturated with molten oil. This is where the second part of my craving comes in: a deep fried dumpling with a light filling. We all know that there is nothing better to plunge into hot oil than something already contained within a wrapper, whether it’s a relleno, a wonton or rangoon. But these are all savoury dishes. What about something sweet? What about a Greek Bourekia, a crisp shortcrust pastry filled with cinnamon scented cream cheese and then dipped in the drink?
Originally referred to, quite charmingly, as Breadmeats, the Bourekia has been enjoyed since the times of Ancient Greece. They later acquired the name through force, from the Turks who felt that the Greeks need to share the same names for delicacies as they did.
Whatever name the Bourekia goes under, it has infinite variety: savoury, sweet, vegetarian or carnivorous, rolled into cigar shapes or crescent shapes, wrapped into Filo or Shortcrust Pastry.
Kiros’ filling is cream cheese or ricotta flavoured with Orange Flower Water, Cinnamon, Lemon Zest and some Caster Sugar. This can be easily and deliciously adapted. Rosewater (another traditional Greek flavouring) could be substituted for the Orange Flower Water, different spices can be added, chopped chocolate and, as Paul suggested, using Mascarpone instead of Ricotta. I can see where he’s coming from: the finished crescents reminded me very much of Cannoli, with their ricotta and chocolate filling.
However, I am in love with this not-to-sweet, palest of pink fillings. Biting into the crisp, lemon-tinged pastry, a dusting of icing sugar exploding all over you, and then into the yieldingly soft, gently perfumed interior. Truly a perfect ending to any Summers day.
RICOTTA AND CINNAMON BOUREKIA - makes between 12-24, depending on how thin you can roll the pastry
Ingredients:
Pastry:
250g Plain Flour (cake or '00' is best)
Pinch Salt
55g Cold Butter, cut into cubes
Some Cold Water
Zest of 1 Lemon
Filling:
250g Ricotta Cheese or Cream Cheese or Mascarpone, drained
50g Caster Sugar (or to taste)
1/2 Teaspoon Cinnamon
1/2 Teaspoon Orange Flower Water
Zest of 1 Small Lemon
METHOD:
Make the pastry:
Gently rub the butter into the flour and salt until it loosely resembles the texture of oatmeal.
Pour into a couple of tablespoons of cold water and the lemon zest and knead for about 15 seconds, or until the dough forms a cohesive ball.
Wrap in clingfilm and chill for one hour.
Make the Filling:
Beat together the ricotta with the Orange Flower Water, Cinnamon, Sugar and Lemon Zest until well amalgamated. Taste and adjust flavourings as necessary. Chill until needed.
Make the Bourekia:
Heat a large pan of vegetable oil, filled about halfway, over high temperature until a scrap of pastry sizzles gently but not frantically.
Roll out the dough very thinly. Cut 3" rounds out. According to the recipe, you should get 24 rounds out of the dough, but I managed about 14. It all depends on how pliable your dough is, and mine was quite crumbly.
A hint for making little pasties, whether it's these Bourekias or Empanadas or Cornish, when you cut the rounds out, give them another couple of rolls with the rolling pin. This makes the dough thinner, and therefore crisper, but also it aids with manipulating it too.
Fill each round with a scant spoonful of filling.
Seal in little crescents shapes using some water, and a pinching technique.
Using a slotted spoon, drop the Bourekias into the hot fat, in batches of maybe 5 or 6 depending on the size of your pan. Fry for about 45 seconds, until they look crisp and puff up slightly. They will not turn golden brown.
Drain on kitchen paper, then serve dusted generously with icing (confectioners) sugar.
Eat whilst still hot.
Enjoy!

p.s. Just 3 days left to submit your entry for Pauls Big Burger Ballyhoo! So...get grilling!

Freya's Boiga Ballyhoo Entry and 60 Second Ice Cream!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 20 May 2007 16:50:00 +0000

I suppose it seems only right that I should support my husband's food event, Paul's Big Burger Ballyhoo (just 5 days to go, folks!). Whilst I am unhappy about donating our meagre supplies of Goatslick (it's a great mixer with vodka - seriously!), I do like the idea of a good food contest. I realise that I am exempt from winning the competition. However, when I knocked up this vegetarian sandwich yesterday, Paul suggested that I should at least put it forward as inspiration for other people.
Of course, it can only be cooked on a grill if you have a grill-safe skillet (or frying pan to us Brits) because it involves small mushrooms and scrambled eggs. Sounds like breakfast so far? Try adding some Parmesan, truffle paste, lemon juice, cayenne pepper and parsley to the mix and you've got a winner for your vegetarian (or hamburger squeamish) guests. Furthermore, if you're not using the grill, then you can just rustle this up in the kitchen (as I did) for a quick snack.
The recipe is taken from Jane Grigson's Mushroom Feast, who directly attributes the recipe to the formidable foodie Alice B Toklas. I have omitted several steps from the original, purely to make it much quicker and more convenient. I chose not to process the mushrooms into a paste because I love the squeaky texture of fungi but if you want to proceed as per the original, place the just cooked mushrooms in a food processor until process until coarsely chopped and then add the eggs. The Truffle Paste is my luxurious touch and proof that I really am going to use that expensive looking glass bottle of, what is in truth, chopped mushrooms with a hint of truffle oil (which is no more made with authentic truffles than baby oil is made out of babies). However, I enjoy the strong, garlic heavy flavour and a little goes a long way (and it keeps for much longer than it actually states on the packaging. Use within 5 days of opening? Mine has been open 8 months and tastes just as good as the day I first popped the lid). Obviously I don't suggest that you go out and buy this special item just for what is, in effect, glorified mushroom sandwiches. In particular, if you are privy to some rich, musky flavoured wild mushrooms, these will need very little adornment at all.
According to Alice B Toklas, the taste of the finished sandwich is much like chicken and indeed, the mushrooms combined with eggs and cheese had a deeply meaty taste.
This dish also lends itself to much experimentation: different herbs (Thyme or Tarragon) or cheese (Gruyere, maybe a not too strong blue cheese), some sauteed onions, perhaps some garlic, whatever type of mushrooms you are able to pick locally or pick up at your supermarket.
If you have some mushrooms that are crying out to be used and you're feeling peckish right now, here's how to make them:
ALICE. B. TOKLAS INSPIRED MUSHROOM SANDWICHES - serves 2 greedy people
250g Mushrooms (a punnet), I used Chestnut, you could use whatever you have
30g Butter
2 Tablespoons Grated Parmesan (or cheese of your choice)
2 Organic, Free Range Eggs
Spritz Lemon Juice
Salt, Pepper, Cayenne Pepper
1 Spring Onion, chopped
Teaspoon Truffle Paste (optional)
White Bread, cut into rounds using a large cutter, if you're feeling in a Mad Hatters Tea Party mood, if not, keep bread as is.
METHOD:
Melt the butter in a small saucepan over medium height. Add a spritz of lemon juice (I used about a quarter of a lemon) and throw in the mushrooms. Grind over some black pepper and leave to sweat down, and then reabsorb the liquid that they initially emit.
Once they are tender but fairly dry (about 8 minutes) break the eggs over the mushrooms and stir briskly to scramble them. Remove from the heat before the egg goes dry and whilst hot, stir in the grated cheese, cayenne pepper to taste and the spring onions. Finally stir in some salt and truffle paste (if using), also to taste.
Serve on toasted bread. I fried the bread rounds in some butter because I love fried bread, however this is an overly luxurious touch and the toaster works just as well.
Enjoy!

For those of you who skipped the above burger waffle because you were seduced by the words '60 Second Ice Cream', let me reassure you that you will not be disappointed. Inspired by Lisa over at La Mia Cucina's and Marce at Pip in the City's Banana Ice Cream which does not require an ice cream maker or even copious freezing times, I decided to experiment with other 'instant' ice creams. A little investigative work informed me that other fruits won't give you the authentic ice cream texture that the bananas did. However, with a little lubricant supplied by natural (or Greek) yogurt, a dash of sugar (or Agave syrup) and some flavourings, you can produce something which tastes fruity and great.
I remembered that I had bought a bag of cherries some months (or was that years?) ago, with the probable intention of making cherry pie for Paul. Obviously this never transpired. I am not the biggest fan of cherries so didn't really feel compelled to make the pie. Feeling energetic after trying out the new local branch of Subway though, I decided to treat Paul. I placed half the bag of frozen cherries in my processor, poured in about 50g caster sugar, a dash of almond vodka (made with the kernels from damsons) and some almond extract and 150ml of yogurt and processed for 60 seconds or until smooth and vividly pink. Taste for sugar, add more if necessary and serve. I think that if you had frozen banana slices in your freezer, you could replace the sugar element with this instead for an even healthier, fruity frosty treat.
Again, experimentation is the key to success: I have decided to keep all sorts of soft fruits in the freezer; blueberries, raspberries, strawberries, currents, mango; with the idea that we have instant ice cream at the drop of a hat. Would this work with stewed fruits, like Rhubarb or Apple, flavoured with cinnamon or vanilla or made boozy with a dash of sloe gin? Let me know if you decide to experiment and find a truly amazing combination!
60 SECOND "ICE CREAM"
Basic Recipe
1kg Frozen Fruit
300-400g Natural Yogurt (you may need more depending on the texture of the fruit). At this point, I am wondering if you can use tofu for those of you who are lactose intolerant?
50g Sugar (depending on natural sweetness of fruit), Agave Syrup or Honey
Flavouring of your choice (vanilla, almond extract, fruit liqueurs as a starting point)
METHOD:
Place all the ingredients in a processor and blend until smooth. No longer or it will melt too much
Serve straight away. This stuff doesn't refreeze but if you find you have any left, you can drink it as a thick smoothie instead.

Third Time Lucky Bro...Blondies

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 17 May 2007 06:37:00 +0000

These "Third Time Lucky Blondies" are so named for a reason. Of course, everything has a reason behind it but this title is particularly pertinent to me.
Have you ever baked a recipe from a cookbook, either penned by a reliable cook or that has been recommended by another reliable cook, only to find that the first recipe you cook is completely duff? Bowed but not beaten, you give the book another go. Perhaps the oven was too hot or you didn't sieve the flour for long enough.

(left) Bad Blondies (above) Great Blondies!

Deep down you just know that you did everything to the letter, yet you still plough on, like the culinary powerhouse you are.
The next recipe is also a stinker. And the next. And then the book is relegated from "next to the bed" status to "shoved away in the spare room under the bed" status.
The book I am referring to is Tamasin Day-Lewis' latest, Tamasin's Kitchen Classics. And indeed, this book is her own original take on classics from across the world. I have previously found all of her cookbooks to be impeccable and infinitely preferable to certain other female TV cooks who tend to perhaps rely more on seducing viewers with a lifestyle rather than concentrating on cooking. Tamasin has always been about the cooking and I cannot recommend her other books highly enough.

(left) Ooey, Gooey, Perfect Blondies

My gripe with Kitchen Classics is less that the recipes are bad, more that they are poorly notated and seem rushed. This is perhaps a reflection more on her publishing company than the author herself, her previous book, the mammoth and indispensable Kitchen Bible, having been published exactly a year before (in fact, a cursory glance on Amazon reveals that the prolific Ms Day-Lewis has another book due for publication in, you guessed it, September 2007. I'll still be buying it though).
"How does all this typical preamble and waffle connect to Brownies though?" I hear you ask. Well, I baked my first batch of chocolate brownies a few years ago, using a Tamasin Day-Lewis recipe from her Good Tempered Food and found them to be completely and utterly darkly delicious. They are as chocolatey as you could ever imagine, fudgy and dense. I don't bake them too often though because the recipe hinges on using excellent quality chocolate and I covet my expensive chocolate as though it were an internal organ.

(right) Bad Blondies, note Flapjack-type texture

Whilst idly (and I probably mean avidly) flipping through Kitchen Classics, a recipe kept catching my eye: Walnut and Date Blondies. Blondies! A cheaper variation of the chocolate brownie. Something in the ingredients seemed to click: the brown sugar, the sticky chopped dates and the crunchy, slightly bitter walnuts. I had a feeling this cheeky little recipe would jostle with the saucy chocolate brownies - who would be the cakey treat that got to rub mama's feet?
Strange metaphors aside, I got to work. This is a recipe that relies on few ingredients, my favourite type. I replaced the walnuts with pecans, which I prefer, and I refused to use a whole expensive vanilla pod on a small batch of bro...blondies. I used Vanilla Extract instead. Other than that, I followed the recipe to the letter.
Perhaps it was the direction "gently melt the butter and then stir in the sugar. Allow the sugar to dissolve but cook for no longer otherwise you'll have toffee" that I had problems with. In fact, it was that direction. The first two times. I must have melted the sugar too much each time because when I then whisked in the beaten egg, I ended up with toffee scramble. Don't get me wrong, I still used the mixture but instead of it being a cake-like batter, it was more like raw shortbread. I had to knead it into the corners of the tin!! However, the finished product, whilst divinely yummy, was a bit too dried-up Toothpaste-like in texture to deserve the title of bro...blondie.
Because I know that there is a great recipe in here somewhere, and I knew that the issue lay within the sloppy directions, I decided to make a third batch this week. Using my brain instead of relying on the recipe, I decided to melt the butter and stir in the sugar into the butter off the heat. It remains liqueous but doesn't turn to caramel, which, of course, is going to seize as soon as you dump any cold liquid into it (i.e. beaten egg). I tentatively stirred the beaten egg into this third batch of melted butter and sugar and was happy to see no seizing and no scrambling! The rest of the ingredients followed, I poured the batter into the prepared dish and waited, with baited breath. 25 minutes later, a golden, sugar-crusted bar of blondies emerged triumphantly from the oven! No way was I going to let this recipe beat me and it didn't! If I had been using my precious chocolate, then I might have fallen at the first hurdle, but seeing as I have a huge bag of dates and tonnes of pecans rolling around my bread-bin (don't ask), I felt happy to experiment.
Other dishes from this book that I wouldn't particularly recommend using, at least word for word, are her Butternut Squash and Crotin (baby goats cheese) tart - really, really bland. The Coffee, Chocolate and Raspberry Tart - the gelatine didn't work and neither did the flavours together. I feel strongly that this is just a case of recipes not being tested properly, a bit like wayward children with no direction in their life. With a little love and encouragement, these could all become dishes of great merit! And therein lies the lesson for today - perseverance pays off. Most of the time.
Oh, and of course, this is my entry for Brownie Babe of the Month, held by Miriam over at Once Upon A Tart. I doubt mine is worth one of her gorgeous aprons, but it must surely be worth a gold star for effort!

PECAN AND DATE BLONDIES aka Third Time Lucky Blondies makes...nowhere near enough!
Ingredients:
55g Unsalted Butter
180g Light Brown or Muscovado Sugar
1 Egg Beaten
100g Plain Flour
1 Teaspoon Baking Powder
1/2 Teaspoon Salt
1 Teaspoon Vanilla Extract
55g Chopped Dates
55g Chopped Pecans (or walnuts)
METHOD:
Preheat Oven to 180c.
Line a small loaf tin with greaseproof paper.
Melt the butter in a medium saucepan over low heat. Once melted, stir in the sugar and warm very gently until it just starts to become absorbed into the butter.
Whisk in the beaten egg and vanilla extract.
Sift together the flour, baking powder and salt and stir into the butter/sugar mixture.
Fold in the chopped dates and pecans, pour into the prepared loaf tin and bake for 25-30 minutes until you have a paper-thin sugar crust. A skewer will not come out clean because you want that gooey texture of the brownies.
Leave to cool. They will probably crack and collapse a little in the middle. This is all part of the blondie/brownie's ramshackle charm.
OK, once they have cooled a little, you can cut a slice. I should really make you wait until they're completely cold but I didn't (who does?)!
Enjoy!

P.S. EIGHT DAYS LEFT UNTIL THE DEADLINE FOR BIG BURGER BALLYHOO! AND THERE WILL BE NO EXTENSIONS THIS TIME! WE HAVE HAD AN OVERWHELMING RESPONSE ALREADY BUT WE WANT MORE, MORE, MORE BURGERS!!

Okra Lasagne...Just Kidding!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 10 May 2007 17:37:00 +0000

Well, kidding about the okra in any case. We did, in fact, make a lasagne this weekend. I wouldn't have minded okra in it, but then, I am American and Freya says we don't know how to make lasagne.

Okay, I'll admit that what generally passes for Italian food in the US would probably go down the waste disposal in Italy, but cottage cheese and spinach are good in lasagne regardless. Besides, Freya isn't allowed a high horse as she grew up in a country obsessed with Spaghetti Bolognese. Actually, with what Brits try to pass off as Italian she doesn't even deserve to ride a pony. This isn't a criticism. I enjoy food of any kind, authentic or not.

The first lasagne Freya made for me was in Wisconsin at my parent's farm. It was her first visit to Door County and while she loved the idea of a pool table at the grocery store, she wasn't too keen on the absence of vegetarian mince. She was reduced to cooking with actual meat. This was difficult for her at the time as she was still flirting with vegetarianism. After letting her win at air hockey, we went back to the house to start cooking. When she started making a Béchamel sauce I was noticeably disgruntled. When I realised there wasn't any ricotta or cottage cheese involved I was suitably disconcerted. After observing that no Italian sausage had gone into the sauce I had to leave the kitchen.

The finished product was good, but not what I was used to. Not lasagna like mom used to make. I was used to the 1970's lasagna that every mother made. The kind that contained either more meat than most slaughterhouses can produce in a day or was completely vegetarian and contained more vegetables than a typical farmer's market. Which type you had was determined entirely by the cultural leanings of the month. Dad's jogging: veggie. It's gonna be a cold winter: meaty. Whichever form it took, it always had cottage cheese and was generally watery. But as a kid living in that decade, an era where we were told we'd be living in space by the year 2000 and when having a sunroof in your car meant your parents were "going places", this was the best meal ever!

So, I tried to make my American version for Freya eventually (In England). When I realised I couldn't get Italian sausage at Tesco I was noticeably disgruntled. When I realised I couldn't buy fluted lasagna pasta here I was suitably disconcerted. After Freya observed that no Béchamel sauce was being made, she had to leave the kitchen. The in-laws enjoyed my version, but they were clearly out of their element. I was officially banned from serving it at family functions after that.

After the first year or so of she and I playing duelling lasagna (lasagne), Freya made us a lasagne following the Anna Del Conte via Tamasin Day-Lewis recipe. What an enlightenment this was! The flavours were bold and complex, but in a way that seemed rustic and steeped in tradition. The rich meat sauce was sweet and savoury owing to the inclusion of carrots, celery, and milk in the early stages. Each layer was distinctive with a creaminess that we had previously found unobtainable.

I think a good lasagne should cut like a martial artists stack of boards. You know, you feel your fork (or knife if you're not American) go through the pasta and then move freely before hitting the next layer of pasta (If you made the crepe cake for the Daring Bakers last month, you know that feeling well.). The best way to achieve this is to make your own pasta. A good lasagne should also stay intact when you cut it, but not be dry or cloying. Very easy to get wrong, but great if done correctly, this is one the most sophisticated down home meals you can make. Once you've followed this recipe, you'll find it comforting in a very familiar way. You only get this feeling from wholesome food..........or ducky slippers.

Lasagne (Serves 1 of me or 6 of you)
Taken from Tamasin's Kitchen Bible
Ingredients
2-3 tbsp olive oil
1 knob butter
2 large onions, finely chopped
3 sticks celery, chopped
3 carrots, finely diced
3 or 4 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1kg/2lb ground beef chuck or similar, with plenty of fat. Substitute 1/3 quantity ground pork if you wish.
salt and fresh black pepper
2 bay leaves
240ml/8fl oz milk
1/4tsp nutmeg
240ml/8fl oz white wine
2 x 400g/14 oz tin plum tomatoes
1.2 litre/2 pints bechamel, made with bay leaf and nutmeg
2 boxes dried lasagne (not the kind that needs precooking) or preferably fresh home made pasta
freshly ground Parmesan cheese

METHOD
Warm the oil and butter in a heavy cast-iron pot, add the onion, and saute gently until softened and translucent. Add the celery, carrots and garlic, cook for another couple of minutes, stirring to coat well. Add the ground beef and a large pinch of salt, and grind over some pepper. Stir until the beef has lost its raw pink look. Add the bay leaves and milk, and simmer gently for about 10 minutes, until the meat has absorbed most of the milk. Add the nutmeg, then the wine and let it simmer until it has nearly evaporated. Add the cut-up tomatoes with their juice and stir thoroughly. Cook at a lazy simmer, mijoter, for 3 hours or more. Stir from time to time. The fat will eventually spearate from the sauce, but the sauce will not be dry. Taste and check the seasoning.
Preheat the oven to 200°C/400°F. Pour just enough béchamel to cover the base of your greased baking dish. Add a layer of lasagne, followed by a layer of the ragu, a layer of béchamel and a good handful of Parmesan. Continue with two or three more layers, until your sauces are both used up, add a final sprinkling of Parmesan, and bake in the oven for about 30 minutes. The dish should be bubbling all over, and the knife should slip easily through the layers.

And you might throw in some cottage cheese for old times sake.

Lemons for a Great Cause

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 03 May 2007 06:17:00 +0000

I used to hate Lemon Meringue Pie. It always reminded me of Lemsip, an over-the-counter lemon-flavoured cold medicine that always makes me instantly vomit.
I didn’t realise at the time that not all Lemon Meringue Pies came out a packet and that the curd wasn’t just a reconstituted custard flavoured with a peculiar lemon flavoured capsule of oil. When faced with such atrocities as a child, it’s easy to understand now why so many British people are still squeamish about trying new and different foods. If it isn’t flavoured by an innocuous capsule or powder, it must be feared.
Fear of food is something that must be overcome as soon as you are in the position to take charge of your own kitchen (or someone elses) lest you should end up refusing to try anything that doesn’t look good. Regular readers of this blog will have seen us chart the many new things that I have previously been squeamish about but tried anyway and then added to our regular menus. The best way to do this is to become almost intimately acquainted with your ingredients. By intimate, I mean being able to discuss personal medical problems without blushing, not just leaving the desperately odd message on MySpace accounts saying “Yeah, uh, how’s things? Remember me? You bought me reduced in the supermarket? So, yeah, I’m now residing at the bottom of your freezer. It’s pretty lonely here so if you get the time, drop by and say hi!”
Of course, I don’t actually sit and discuss my latest toenail fungal infection with a packet of chicken breasts (although, there was that one time with William when we discussed the merits of Andy Warhol as a filmmaker and whether he really was better than Dawson Leary – it could have ended up in fisticuffs had I not submerged him in brine), what I really mean is to know your animals heritage, the farm it comes from, whether it was intensively reared or lived the life of Riley on a farm. If you buy apples, do they come from a local farm shop just up the road or are they shipped from hundreds of miles away?
Whilst these questions seem like just one more thing to have to worry about in a life already fraught with discord and stress, shopping locally can actually prove to be a worthwhile and rewarding pastime. I have no doubt that most people that write food blogs find it no hardship to visit local food emporiums anyway but if it stops us from getting one step closer to the terrifying reality of eating food flavoured by capsules or that have concerning directions on the packaging that simply say “Just Add Water” then it’s got to be worth it.
With that in mind, here is my own Lemon Meringue Pie, culled from The Pastry Queen by Rebecca Rather. Her version, individual tarts with 3 inch high spiky meringue, are called Lemon/Lime Texas Big Hairs, the Big Hair obviously referring to the spikes. I wanted to make a large tart instead so used a slightly different sweet shortcrust. I also made a small one for photographic purposes, cute isn't it? Note that my own Big Hairs were much like my own hair, sort of flat and lacking body. I think I didn't whisk the meringue for long enough but it still tasted great!
I had run out of limes so had to make an all lemon curd. I used to think that Lemon Curd was incredibly difficult to make, something about the word 'curd' conjures up hours of stirring. Actually, it couldn't be further from the truth. Simply whisk together sugar, egg yolks (reserving the whites for the meringue), the zest and juice of several lemons over a double boiler, then leave to cook in the most gentle manner, for about 40 minutes, stirring only occasionally. Leave to cool completely, after which it will thicken up to a wobbly spoon dropping consistency. Not only can this luscious yellow curd be used in a tart, you can also use it to make a wonderful ice cream, serve it on scones, stir it through muesli or just eat it straight from jar.
I'm not going to list out the recipe here, suffice it to say, you should already own Rebecca Rather's Cookbook anyway. It is one of my personal favourites and every recipe is a winner.

There is also a serious side to this slightly irreverent post. This is my entry for Barbara, over at Winos and Foodies great awareness raising event, LiveSTRONG:

"LIVESTRONG Day is the Lance Armstrong Foundation's (LAF) grassroots advocacy initiative to unify people affected by cancer and to raise awareness about cancer survivorship issues on a national level and in local communities across the country. LIVESTRONG Day 2007 will occur on Wednesday, May 16"

This particular event goes much deeper than just making an attractive piece of food, photographing and blogging about it. We all know someone who is currently suffering from cancer, has died from it or (hopefully) has made a full recovery. Whilst great leaps are taken every day to cure every type of cancer, it seems that there is always obstacles that cancer sufferers have to work through. Every case of cancer is entirely individual and it is essential that we are do whatever we can to help our loved ones through their pain and suffering. One in three of us will contract a form of cancer so we also need to be vigilant in keeping ourselves healthy: doing regular self-examinations, giving up smoking, using high SPF lotions when out in the sun and nagging at doctors if you feel that something just isn't right. Prevention is the best form of cure but many cancers can be treated if caught very early on.

So, if you haven't yet made your yellow dish and blogged about it, do it today and don't forget to scoot over to Barb's site on the 16th May to coincide with LiveStrong Day and read everyone's amazing posts!

Some Dishes I Forgot To Blog About...

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 01 May 2007 06:40:00 +0000

Whilst I recover from the Darkest Crepe Cake, I thought I'd share with you some meals that I have made recently but just haven't gotten around to posting. I have this funny feeling that most people prefer to look at dessert rather than dinner (and who can blame them?) but I rather enjoyed these meals and I'm quite proud of them because they were made, swallow-like, on the wing.
The first meal was my take on a restaurant classic from the 70s that involves piping mashed potato onto a thick piece of cod or haddock, then covering the creamy potato with scalloped potatoes to replicate scales. This is then baked until golden. Now, I had planned this for supper one night and then forgotten which cookbook I had found the recipe in so had to literally make it up as I went along.
I used smoked haddock instead of plain because I love the smoky, flakiness. I also considered omitting the mashed potato and just scalloping the fish but I can imagine very few meals that aren't enhanced by mash. I boiled up the potatoes with a clove or two of garlic which was then mashed up with the potato, infusing it with a delicate flavour rather than the 'knock your socks off' pungency you can get with garlic. I also stirred in some diced Gruyere. And, because I'm not very artistic at all, I reserved just one of the boiled potatoes to make a backbone of sliced potatoes. The whole thing was then sprinkled with grated Parmesan and baked in roasting tin filled with 1 centimetre of milk for about half an hour or until golden brown and bubbling. The milk helps to poach the fish rather than roast it, thereby reducing the intense smokiness to a mellow flavour. If time was really short, you could poach the haddock in milk first, use the milk in the mashed potato, skip the scalloping and just brown the whole thing under the grill for five minutes. Or, you could use any other fish of your choice providing it was a thick, meaty piece. The beauty of fish is that it can be as exotic or in this case, homely and comforting, as you wish.
You could also flavour the potato with perhaps some pesto, mustard, wasabi or tartar sauce.
Meal No. 2 was one I had originally made for a food event but I had gotten all my ingredients wrong (working from memory is always a bad thing in my case!) so we just enjoyed the supper, photographed it and filed it away under "must read food events properly."
Rainbow Trout with Potato Salad is now one of my firm favourites. I have only ever tried Trout once before in a restaurant and was pleasantly surprised at its delicate, salmon-like flavour. It is such a gentle fish that it requires almost no additional primping other than a sprinkling of salt and pepper before pan frying. A tip I accidentally stumbled across when cooking this particular piece of fish: fry skin side down as always in a little butter or olive oil until golden. Gently flip the fish but remove the whole pan from the heat to finish cooking. This ensures that the fish is not overcooked and dries out.
Potato salad is one of my most favourite things in the world ever yet surprisingly I had never made it before. I scanned back in my memory for years of watching my mum prepare it, taking a little bit of inspiration from Pauls own hot potato salad and stirred up some mayo, dijon mustard, spring onions (scallions), creme fraiche, chopped parsley and lots of black pepper. The potatoes, still warm, help the flavours mingle together deliciously but take care that they're not too hot otherwise the mayonnaise will just split and go horribly greasy. I served the trout and potato salad with some sprouting broccoli and it was a perfect meal for a warm spring night.
The final meal I can hardly remember making because it was ages ago but I want to share it with you because it symbolises the first time I prepared and ate veal.
Constantly tottering on the border of vegetarianism ensures that I am incredibly keen on purchasing organic, locally produced meat of great heritage. I would rather go without than buy non-organic meat. As it turns outs, organic meat tastes so much better than intensively farmed but even if this wasn't the case, I would still go for the humane option. Therefore, I had always staunchly refused to eat veal in light of the cruel conditions they were farmed in. Thanks to the RSPCA Freedom Food standards, the anaemic, milk-fed calves, deprived of light and movement are a thing of the past, at least for us Brits. Rose Veal is a much better solution and tastes great. Is wonderful to be able to enjoy this delicate meat with a guilt-free conscience!
Because Rose Veal is so delicate, it simply needs pan frying after being seasoned, in a little butter for maybe a minute or two each side depending on your preference. I made a simple red wine, Thyme and Shallot sauce with the juices from the meat and enriched it with a little butter and lots of black pepper. I also fried some tiny potatoes that had been cut no larger than the size of a £2.00 coin until golden. As someone who doesn't tuck into a steak with great relish usually, I thoroughly enjoyed the Veal whose flavour falls somewhere between beef and pork loin. I will definitely be giving this another go, perhaps next time Osso Bucco?

And onto other matters in the blogging world, I have memed (nearly maimed - by the Crepe Cake) twice in the last couple of weeks! Tigerfish, I have not forgotten you and I hope to respond to your meme later this week.

As for the other meme, well we are having to disguise our blushes for we have been given a Thinking Bloggers award! We are thrilled that Kirsten over at Home Cooking Adventures liked our blog enough to pass the accolade on to us and four others (my fellow DBs Patricia and Peabody, plus two new blogs that I am unfamiliar with, PHX Rail Food and Feasting in Phoenix). Paul and I strive to be fun, interesting and fresh with our blog. I know we don't always achieve that but we want to be much more than just pretty pictures with an extended caption. IF we are to be labelled food porn, hopefully it will be more of the Henry Miller ilk than Penthouse. And if we have managed to make one person think about the issues we raise (or even cook from one of our recipes) then we've achieved our goal! So, thanks to Kirsten and, as is the nature of the meme, I would like to nominate the following five food bloggers who have made us think (if you're already been nominated then go straight to the head of the class you girlie swots!!):

1) T.W. Barritt over at Culinary Types. His blog is always fun, informative and never predictable. I am currently in love with his Chocolate Malt Cake. You should just get over there to read this blog if you don't already and prepare for an education!
2) Brilynn at Jumbo Empanadas who unwittingly encouraged me to take wobbly baby steps into taking part in food events, plus her food always looks and sounds tantalising. Oh, and she has a wicked sense of humour too.
3) Steven at Mad Chilli who produces the most stunning and original food I have ever seen but needs to post more! You left us hanging at the Passion Fruit Pud!!
4) Doodles, Maltese Parakeet and Mooncrazy hanging out at Peanut Butter Etouffe just because of their intelligent and witty posts.
5) Ulrike at Kuchenlatein for translating her blog posts much better than the Google Translater, for making her own Dandelion Honey and just for having a great blog!
And to all those who I haven't nominated, you are all worthy of this because if you're on my blogroll, you've made me think enough to put you there but I can only pick five! And those five now have to nominate another five blogs each that have made them think!

Daring Bakers II - This Time, It's Personal

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 29 Apr 2007 11:25:00 +0000

As a member of the Daring Bakers, this time of the month comes around all too fast. There are some members who, consummate professional bakers to the last, spend the month perfecting the allocated recipe. The finished article looks (and no doubt tastes) stunning.

I am not like this. I started my cake on Thursday Night and, not realising that I would spend most of Saturday incapacitated by a mini-migraine, am now left with a partially finished cake in the refrigerator.

Not to worry. Brilynn of Jumbo Empanadas, who chose this month’s recipe (a Martha Stewart recipe no less), was canny and selected a cake that can be made over several days. And thank goodness for this.

Darkest Chocolate Crepe Cake is not a cake to be taken lightly. I have wanted to make a crepe cake since I read about one in an old issue of Saveur magazine. I lusted after the wafer thin layers, sandwiched together with a delicate cream. Brilynns recipe takes that delicate cake to the next plateau. Imagine this: over 30 pancakes made with melted chocolate, heightened with a Nutella cream that contains no less than one and a half UK size packs of butter. And if that wasn’t overindulgence enough, the whole cake is then drenched in a dark chocolate glaze to give it Maybelline Lipgloss mirror shine. Finally, we are expected to exert our sugar art skills by decorating this black beauty with hazelnuts dipped in molten sugar, a 3 inch fragile spear of bronzed caramel extended upwards from the nut.

As I said, Brilynn is not one to do things by half.

Actually, the cake is fairly simple if you follow it step by step and over the course of several days as I have:

Thursday Morning: Make Pancake Batter. Leave to chill until the evening.

Thursday Night: Get Paul to make pancakes. Don’t get me wrong. I tried, I really did. My pancakes just ended up looking like something Ed Gein might have made a lampshade with instead of a delicate, lacy pancake. Not appetising. Paul is a champion pancake maker, even though he is more used to making thick, fluffy buttermilk ones. Fortunately for him, when he moved to the UK, I rapidly introduced him to the frail English pancake (or crepe as it is known everywhere else) so he is well skilled in both types. Can you imagine making about 35 pancakes? It’s really boring. At this point you hope that it’s all worth it.

Friday Night: Make internal icing and layer up cake. The icing is really good although I added extra Nutella (Nutella is now officially a cool and bona fide ingredient and not just something to spread on bread. I have seen it utilised in so many delicious recipes on food blogs in the last few months that it’s just a matter of time before restaurants start serving it too). Realise that a) you forgot to stir the whipped cream into the icing and it still sits in the fridge, looking palely up at you and b) that you don’t have enough cream left to make the external icing. Several expletives escape.

Saturday Morning: Am prepared to glaze the cake at my mums as it is her birthday and this was to be her birthday cake. We go out to eat (see tomorrows post), buy some double cream for the icing on the way. Get back to my mums and realise we have forgotten cake. Also realise that I have the start of a severe migraine probably brought on by the rapeseed pollen and/or heatstroke. I am a delicate flower and wilt with great rapidity in the sun. I also wilt in the cold. I have a strange internal thermostat.

Saturday Afternoon: Get home and go straight to bed. Awaken at 8pm to watch Grease is the Word. Headache gets much worse. Go straight back to sleep. Not even David Gest’s charming eyebrow gesticulations can help me tonight.

Sunday Morning: Awaken to happily find the headache is much better. I am particularly cross when I get a bad headache that is not alcohol induced, if for no other reason than suffering for one’s own gluttony makes it seem that much more debauched.

Fuzzy head aside, I am now prepared to make the glaze for the cake. I am currently typing this in bed, listening to the Arctic Monkeys (literally the only band of today’s current flock of new-new-new wavers that I will give a moment to), waiting for Paul to finish preparing the dogs food. We feed them turkey legs and it smells absolutely repugnant as it is boiled up. Like a pathologist, I have spread a highly perfumed cream under and around my nostrils to get rid of the stench.

Whilst I await the kitchen, let me just make mention of the other girls who have probably been far more organised than I and where you can see how they got on with the same recipe (and also a formal welcome to all the new members, all who have been given a real baptism of fire with this introductory cake!), in blog alphabetical order:

Jenny, Mary, Dolores, Becke, Ivonne, Peabody, Mercedes, Anita, Laura, Pat, Morven, Claudia, Hester, Gilly, Sara, Brilynn, Lisa, Ilva, Tanna, Marce, Devra, Helene, Patricia, Jen, Mary 2, Valentina, Veron, Sher and last but by certainly no means least, Meeta!

So, several hours later, the boiled turkey smell has left the building, the cake is iced and, most miraculous of all, I have even made the candied hazelnuts which look completely beautiful.
This cake is not easy to ice despite using a large circular cutter to get the pancakes all the same size. During the setting process, the pancakes refuse to lie flat and it ends up as sort of 'S' shape, as Paul put it. I actually did a layer of icing, patching in some of the gaps, chilled it and then did a final coat using a wet palate knife to smooth it all of (a trick I learnt from Ina Garten). Still, the icing does cover a multitude of sins and we were thrilled at the final result. The multi-strata of dark chocolate pancakes and pale nutella cream are stunning. Of course, I have a feeling that the caramelised hazelnuts can really make a silk purse out of a sows ear.
But how does it taste, you ask? Well, it's kind of OK. It reminded me very much of a Sara Lee Gateaux which is to say, kids and men will probably love it. But it didn't have the rich, sophisticated taste I was dreaming of. I suppose you could call this the Hollywood Heiress Cake - looks good but has very little substance.
To conclude, I think that Brilynn chose a great cake for all of us. I think that all of us Daring Bakers were tested in one way or another and some of us might have learned some new skills. I would love to experiment with the cake, using a lighter, lemon or raspberry custard/mousse filling. I felt quite proud of the hazelnuts and will no doubt knock up a batch of them, if only to decorate a tub of Ben and Jerrys...

Dinner for Two: A Soldier's Story

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 26 Apr 2007 12:22:00 +0000

I'm generally barred from using the kitchen for anything other than making my breakfast. That's only because Freya is too tired to interfere first thing in the morning. In spite of this, I know that when the month is nearing conclusion and the cupboards are bare, and payday is 2-3 days off, I will be encouraged to cook dinner. It's really not fair.

I wouldn't mind so much, but the reasons for this tradition are completely cynical. Whereas Freya loves having a full stock cupboard, TWO freezers stuffed to the breaking point, drawers with spices labelled A-ZZZZ1, and a fridge with stratified layers of food descending by sell-by dates; I prefer to cook makeshift meals on the fly. I think it's just the survivalist in me. It's the result of too much time in the hot sun of the high desert facing the prospect of a very long hike out for supplies vs. "eating that lizard or cactus and hoping it's not poisonous." Sure, I had supplies buried, but when you're in the desert you learn the benefit of hoarding. This is why if you decide to do some camping off the beaten track in Western Colorado you might find an old duffle bag under three feet of clay loaded with bottled water, fruit cocktail, and ravioli.

As the date of this post would indicate, we have now entered the grace period when I am granted amnesty and allowed free reign over the kitchen. The ingredients at my disposal were indeed Spartan, but I can see a meal in anything. I'm not saying that Freya wouldn't have made the exact same thing, but she would have done so under different circumstances. She would have said to me, "I'm making X for dinner. I have everything I need except for 1 ingredient." We would then head to the store and proceed to purchase said ingredient as well as 40 additional ingredients not called for in the recipe, "just in case". The method to her madness is only thinly veiled as she knows that I know that she knows that I am on to her trickery. My methodology is somewhat different.

I approach everything in my life as a contingency planner. I think about the possible pitfalls and how I will compensate when they occur. e.g. The zombies are attacking:
1. Liberate a prison, it's the safest place. The prisoners would probably prefer freedom among the zombies to more time behind bars.
2. Station snipers in the guard towers. Not to waste bullets on the walking dead, but to pick off any marauders and bandits.
3. Raise crops and livestock in the courtyard for food.
4. Assign every occupant his/her own cell with enough canned food and ammunition to protect themselves (kill themselves) should they find themselves the last survivor.
5. The movies all get this wrong. Anybody not in their own cell would have to wear a mask, Hannibal Lecter style to avoid any confusion about who is and who is not infected and to avoid the all too common "Joe Schmoe just had a heart attack and now he's biting my arm" scenario.

The only thing not provided for in this contingency plan is the rogue doomsday cultist who poisons your crops and water supply while pretending to be just one of the guys.

Right, so this is how I live my life and work in my kitchen. And this is why when I needed spring onions for Tuesday night's meal I used a shallot. When I needed 8oz of prawns, I used a 1/2 tablespoon of shrimp paste. Instead of shiitake, I used the last of some mysterious, potentially hallucinogenic, potentially deadly Chinese mushrooms sent to us by a friend in Singapore. You get the point. About the only thing I had for this recipe that was required was the ground pork.

I get excited by cooking on the frontlines. I like the challenge of thinking fast. I hate planning meals and prepping the night before. I love the desperation that comes from improvisational cooking. This isn't to say that my wife's method isn't great. She studies cookbooks meticulously and selects her ingredients with the sort of discrimination usually reserved for Southern country clubs. And in spite of the assertions of a friend of mine, this is not cooking by the numbers. The belief that any literate person can cook anything out of a book is ridiculous. The art of cooking is a cumulative process. Knowing what works comes from study and trial and error.

The fact is that my style of cooking is momentarily exciting, a test of my skills and knowledge of ingredients, but it's also very safe. I'm not putting myself out on a limb, risking my neck preparing a meal that takes hours or days to make. Freya chooses recipes that challenge her and teach her skills. She makes dishes that hinge on exact ingredients and precise cooking times, where days of hard work can be destroyed by stirring too fast or too slow. I'm just a grunt, cooking in the trenches. Even so, you must admit, my ad hoc siu mai looks pretty sweet!

Sugar High Friday - Flower Power

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 24 Apr 2007 06:14:00 +0000

Or in my case, fruit and flower water power!
Yes, this months Sugar High Friday, hosted by Monisha at Coconut Chutney is themed around Flowers and Flower Waters. Whilst Springtime brings forth a surfeit of daffodils and tulips, we have to wait a few more weeks for the more 'edible' flowers. Primroses are starting to die off, as are violets, so these are no good to use now, especially as we had rain yesterday which resoundingly spoiled any yellow or purple stragglers.
My botany is not good enough to know whether or not bluebells would be OK to use because we have a surplus of them around these here parts.
Not to worry. As a compulsive buyer of unusual spices and flavourings, I have unopened bottles of both Rose and Orange Flower Water both crying out to be used.
As of last night I had no idea what I was going to make. I only knew one thing: I had a deadline I was going to miss if I didn't start thinking pretty hard about those flower waters.
I remembered seeing a beautifully fragile filo construction in Tessa Kiros' Falling Cloudberries. The frail layers of filo were cemented together with an orange scented sabayon and caramelised orange segments. Perfect! I pulled out the recipe and after looking lustfully at the picture for a while, got to work.
Stumbling step No.1. No oranges. OK. So, I'll use lemons instead and make a lemon sabayon. But who wants to eat segments of lemon? Hmm. Too late to run to the supermarket but I always knew that the bag of frozen fruits would come in handy one day.
I picked out the raspberries, black and redcurrants.
Kiros' recipe has four elements to it:
1. The Pastry Layers
2. An Orange Confit
3. An Orange Sabayon
4. An Orange Sauce
I realised that with the scant ingredients I had, the recipe would require some serious reworking. Using the book as a guide only I finally produced a Red Berries, Lemon and Orange Flower Deconstructed Mille Feuilles. Sounds pretty fancy but it was actually really simple. Remember, deconstructed is the key word here. It's the word chefs seem to use when they don't want to spend ages constructing a dish. Someone dropped the roast chicken on the floor and it smashed into 100 pieces? It's a deconstructed roast chicken. It's metro-cuisine you know.
But, back to the pudding in question. This is a dish that can be made in advance and assembled when your guests arrive. The confit is made first of all and then stirred into the Sabayon which is then chilled until you need to use it. The orange sauce can also be made in plenty of time, you can just gently reheat it when the assemblage is due, stirring through the frozen fruits to defrost them but ensuring they don't lose their shape. In an ideal world of course, fresh fruit is preferable. You could also omit the Sabayon element, making sweetened whipped cream instead but it won't have that ethereal, light as gossamer texture.
I have never used Orange Flower Water before and was thrilled to find that far from having that slightly soapy taste that Rosewater can have, it has an almost indefinable delicacy, like the scent of a rare flower dissolving on your tongue. It doesn't taste of oranges, far from it, but it does have a floral-citrus flavour. I will certainly be experimenting with it again.
It looks effective enough to be served at a dinner party but to me the real joy is when you break through the layers of crisp filo and the sabayon oozes dreamily over the spoon. The fruit sauce is a tart foil for the rich cream and the orange flower water permeates the whole dish with its floral delicacy.
If you want to try your hand at this, here's the recipe.
RED BERRIES, LEMON AND ORANGE WATER DECONSTRUCTED MILLE FEUILLES
Serves 4
Ingredients:
Pastry Layers:
8 Sheets Filo Pastry
50g Melted Butter
30g Caster Sugar
Some Honey
Lemon Confit:
Juice and Zest of 2 Lemons
30g Sugar

Fruit and Orange Water Sauce:
Juice of 2 Lemons
30g Sugar
10g Butter
Tablespoon Orange Flower Water
Tablespoon Limoncello or Brandy
Handful of Mixed Berries to finish
Sabayon:
300ml Double Cream
1 Whole Egg and 2 Egg Yolks
50g Caster Sugar
1 Tablespoon Orange Flower Water
METHOD:
To make the confit, heat together the lemon zest, juice and sugar, simmering until it has turned thick and jammy, about 7 minutes. Leave to one side.

To make the fruit sauce, heat together all the ingredients except the fruits, until it has reduced and is thickened, 8-10 minutes. Taste for sugar, extra alcohol, orange flower water etc.

To make the Sabayon, whisk together the egg yolks and sugar in a heatproof bowl over a pan of simmering water, until pale and thickened. This will take about 12-15 minutes of constant whisking.

Stir in the Orange Flower Water and 2 teaspoons of the Lemon Confit. If you have left the confit to set aside for a while, it may solidy slightly so you reheat it gently until it liquifies if this is the case.

Whisk the cream until it peaks softly and fold into the orange water/creamy egg mixture. Chill in the fridge, covered, until you are ready to use it.

Preheat the oven to 180c.

To make the filo layers, lay one sheet of filo pastry out on a large work surface (or small in our case), brush generously with butter and sprinkle over some of the sugar. Lay another sheet of the filo and repeat using four sheets. Brush the top sheet with more butter, cut into 5" x 3" rectangles and place on a baking sheet. You should get about 10-12 rectangles per sheet, depending on the size of the filo.

Drizzle over some of the honey and bake the sugared layers until golden and crisp, about 8 minutes.

Repeat with the other four sheets of filo pastry, ensuring to keep them covered under a tea towel until you are ready to use them as they are notoriously fragile.

When they are cooked, swiftly remove the small rectangles from the baking sheet and lay them out on a clean work surface so they don't stick together. Allow to cool. This takes no time at all.

Finally, assemble the pudding. Place a layer of filo pastry on a plate, dollop over some of the creamy sabayon and drizzle over some of the fruit sauce (after stirring through the fruits). Place another rectangle on top and repeat, using 3 or 4 of the filo rectangles, and finishing with the pastry. Dust lightly with icing sugar and if you have anymore sauce left, spoon some around the plate.

Serve and wait for the oohs and ahhs.

P.S. DON'T FORGET TO DIG OUT THE CHARCOAL FOR PAULS BIG BURGER BALLYHOO!

Any Excuse to Make Muffins...

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 22 Apr 2007 12:01:00 +0000

But this particular excuse is Muffin Monday 02 held by Elena at Experiments.

If you enjoy baking but find you don't always have the time, muffins (or indeed cupcakes) are the perfect thing for you. It takes no time at all to knock up a batch and - given the opportunity - they last several days in the cake tin.
Elenas theme this month is "Muffins That Make You Go Ooooh". In other words, no straightforward ingredients are allowed. This means no bog standard bran, no common chocolate chips. Basically, no mundane muffins. With that in mind, I thought I'd try a couple of recipes, one savoury and one sweet.
When I made the Rhubarb Mutton, I wanted to have something bready with it, but I had no pita bread or naan bread and white sliced just wouldn't cut the mustard. I got to thinking. What ingredients do I have in my cupboard that are sort Persian and sort of Muffiny? I came up with Chick Peas and Fresh Mint to highlight the mint in the stew. So, how about Chick Pea Muffins? Designed to be made in a Jumbo or Texas Muffin Tins, these nobbly little treats are great split and spread with butter. Rather than taste Persian though, they more resembled cornbread (the recipe had a 30/70 split of cornmeal and flour). However, they were still deliciously savoury and even better cold the next day. The unexpected bite of the chick peas is really very delicious. I have a suspicion that using hummous and/or sesame seeds would be a great variation too.
Of course, I prefer sweet muffins above all else and whilst scouring the cupboards, I found a handful of soft Werthers Originals. I had thought about making toffee chocolate muffins but I was all out of chocolate. So, what else goes really well with toffee? Paprika? No. Chicken Livers? No. Coffee? Absolutely! I grabbed Pauls secret stash of coffee beans (must try harder to hide them), ground some up in our coffee machine that was an unexpected anniversary present from my mum and inhaled their heady aroma for a while. There are some smells in the world that make things seem OK, that seem like natural mood boosters and, along with the smell of cakes or bread baking or chicken roasting, freshly ground coffee is one of those smells. The rest of the batter is straightforward, butter and sugar blended together, then eggs, then the ground coffee and flour. This coffee mixture is then dolloped into muffin cases and an unwrapped toffee (or 2!) is pressed into the centre of each. As they bake, the kitchen is filled with the scent of toffee/coffee which from here inwards will be clumsily referred to as cotoffee.
When eagerly removed from the oven, they look unassuming, almost boring. Split them open and a puddle of thick toffee spills over the moist bespeckled sponge. It is hard to restrain yourself from biting straight in but needs must and third degree burns on the lips and tongue are never pleasant. You have been warned!
(recipes to follow - bread making awaits me tonight so I'm short of time. Oh, and Dawsons Creek is on).

Weekend Herb Blogging

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 19 Apr 2007 18:43:00 +0000

Because of my intrinsic need for food that makes me feel cosseted and safe, I adore anything that is stew-like. This includes braises, curries, ragus and tagines. Whatever country you happen to be from, you will do a slow cooked rich meat dish that I would probably fall in love with.
Whilst I also long for the spring and consequent summertime, I miss these bolstering, stick to your ribs meals that send you to bed happy, contented and full. So, utilising the ‘winter’ meat that I still have left in the freezer (which includes, mutton, shin of beef pork hocks and sausages), I have been experimenting with ways to, quite conversely really, bring a touch of winter to these warm Spring days, if only for the benefit of our bellies.
A slow cooked dish that I have been thinking about for some time, after reading about it in The Fish Store by Lindsay Bareham, was for shoulder of lamb cooked with saffron and rhubarb. I didn’t have any lamb but I did have a shoulder of mutton in the fridge and several lithe, pink sticks of rhubarb going limp in the fridge.
I have never tried Rhubarb in a savoury dish, but I adore its slightly astringent flavour that is tempered beautifully with gently stewing and a whisper of sugar. It is certainly one of those fruits that would suit a rich, fatty meat like mutton or lamb perfectly.
It couldn’t be simpler to make either. Sweat down a couple of large onions, thinly sliced, in some butter until they start to softly meld with the butter. Add some diced shoulder of mutton or lamb that has been browned in a little oil (this step also helps to rid the mutton of it's excess fat), a good pinch of saffron, grind of pepper, generous squeeze of lemon and simmer slowly for an hour. A wrinkly skin will appear on the top of the mutton stew but don't be tempted to stir this in. This lack of movement is allowing the meat to tenderise completely.
The rhubarb is cut into large chunks and quickly stir fried over a low height with lots of fresh parsley and mint (thus revealing the dish to be Persian in origin) which are then stirred into the stew. Cook until the Rhubarb collapses. Adjust seasoning adding more lemon if needed and some fresh parsley. Serve with plain boiled basmati rice that has tipped into a hot frying pan and the bottom allowed to go crusty.
The final flavour is slightly tart, the fruit is not overpowering and the meat is curiously turned a glorious shade of pink. It is also meltingly tender.
Incidentally, this is my entry for Weekend Herb Blogging, held this month by Sher over at What Did You Eat? I have been woefully bad at entering in recent weeks so hopefully this will be a return to form.
If you want to recreate this dish in your own kitchen, or, if you share my love of winter food even in the summer, here's how:
MUTTON BRAISED WITH RHUBARB AND SAFFRON serves 2
Ingredients:
3 Large Sticks Rhubarb, cut into 2" Chunks and stripped of stringy bits if necessary
400g Diced Mutton or Lamb, removed of any excess fatty bits
2 Pinches Saffron dissolved in a little boiling water
2 Large Onions, peeled and thinly sliced
Juice of one Lemon
70g Fresh Parsley (flat leaf), chopped finely
Handful of Fresh Mint Leaves, chopped finely (although I didn't have fresh so I used a tablespoon of dried mint)
Salt and Pepper to taste
60g Butter or Olive Oil
METHOD:
In a large stockpot, gently heat a third of the butter or oil and gently cook the onions until they collapse. Don't allow them to colour. These will probably take about 20-30 minutes.
Meanwhile, trim the meat and using another third of the butter or oil, cook the diced meat in batches until richly coloured and much of the fat has rendered off.
Add the meat to the soft onions and stir in the saffron and water.
Add half the juice of the lemon, a good grind of pepper and bring to the boil.
Immediately turn down to the lowest setting and leave to simmer, without a lid, for an hour.
You can prepare the chopped herbs and trimmed rhubarb whilst you wait.
Finally, add the herbs and rhubarb to the stew, and cook for another 30 minutes or until the rhubarb has collapsed. Taste for seasoning and add more lemon juice if necessary.
Serve with plain boiled rice.
Enjoy!

P.S. DON'T FORGET TO DIG OUT THE CHARCOAL FOR PAULS BIG BURGER BALLYHOO!

Big Burger Ballyhoo 2007

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 16 Apr 2007 16:51:00 +0000

bal-ly-hoo [n. bal-ee-hoo] -a clamorous and vigorous attempt to win customers or advance any cause; blatant advertising or publicity.
We here at Writing at the Kitchen Table have no interest in duping the public. You won't find bait and switch here folks! We're unashamedly promoting a food event in an attempt to hype our own profile. And as if the event itself weren't enough to draw a crowd, we're even giving away a prize!

Freya has authorised this event, but I don't think she approves. It's no secret that I choose to express my American patriotism in the form of the occasional cheeseburger (or hot dog, or taco, or...) and I'm about half way through my quest to find the perfect burger (+/-20 years, dependant on future coronary surgical technique). I've never found a burger to compare with the Grand Daddy from JJ's, but that hasn't stopped the search.

Those of us in the Northern Hemisphere are fortunate to be a few short weeks away from barbeque season. I'm hoping that a few readers are as excited about this as I am or this will be a very dull event. Just send me your best burger recipes, pictures included if you'd like, and I will cook and sample all of them. Don't limit yourselves to standard beef patties. I've been known to get just as excited by veggie burgers (falafel counts), fish burgers, chicken...squirrel.

TERMS AND CONDITIONS
All submissions must be able to be cooked on a barbeque.
All submissions must be received by 11:59PM pst May 25, 2007.
Relatives and personal friends are welcome to submit recipes, but will not be considered eligible to win.
I retain the right to refuse sampling burgers which have ingredients I am unable to find or which may cause instant death.
Judging will conclude June 1, 2007 or when I've had a stroke, whichever comes first.

Send an E-mail with Burger Ballyhoo in the subject line to youbiggirlsblouse at tiscali dot co dot uk. Include the name of your burger, recipe, your name, the name of your blog, and a picture of the burger if possible. Feel free to use our Warhol logo without permission.

To really up the ante, we can tell you that the winning prize package will include a bottle of Goatslick as seen in our April 1st post. Now go get grilling!

A Roast Chicken Lunch

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 15 Apr 2007 18:12:00 +0000

...on a curiously hot spring day.

As you know, I buy one organic chicken a month. I am on a never-ending quest to find the perfect way to roast the faithful hen and I think I may have found it. I had previously thought that the secret lay in cooking the chicken bosom side down so all the juices flood straight into the part that can be driest. That was before I read the Zuni Cafe Cookbook by Judy Rodgers. You will recall that I have taken to her ‘salt meat at least 24 hours before you cook it’ mantra with all the fervour of a fully paid up cult member. The results that I have had have just been too good to think that her ideas are mere bunkum. It really does work.
Now, I’m not talking about submerging meat in liquid brine, simply rubbing the meat with salt (the amount is roughly ¾ teaspoon per 1 lb meat), pepper and perhaps some herbs for extra flavour, and leaving it, covered, in the fridge for a minimum of 24 hours. Your meat will then be tender and flavoursome. With chicken or turkey, it would seem especially important to brine the meat to infuse it with that all important flavour and moistness that it seems to sometimes lack (particularly if your bird is not of great provenance).
But, enough proselytising about the brining. Back to the chicken in question. Despite the temperature being well in the 20s (that’s centigrade), I still wanted a roast chicken for lunch on Saturday. I suppose the child in me that has never quite grown up still remembers the days when roasting a chicken was a special occasion, so expensive was it. Like myself, my mum would always roast the chicken in a slightly different way: using a ‘tent’ of foil to cover it, smearing it with margarine (butter was frowned upon in those days) on the skin and under the skin, cooking it belly side up, belly side down. It would seem that lovers of the roast chicken are looking for the holy grail of roasting, the one chicken prepared in such a way that it tastes so sublime that you would die happy just to smell it.
I think I have gotten close but until I try a truly organic, fresh chicken, I think that day is still someway off for me.
In the meantime, I have my brining techniques.
The chicken for this particular recipe, Roast Chicken and Bread Salad, is roasted slightly differently to your average chicken. After its time spent in the salt, the chicken is rubbed completely dry and roasted for no more than an hour at the highest setting your oven will go (mine was 230c). The skin blisters and bronzes but the meat beneath remains brilliant white and incredibly moist.
I had reservations that it was going to be stringy and tough but as soon as Paul started to carve it, I could see that these fears were unnecessary.
The salad itself was the perfect choice for a warm spring day. Warm roast chicken tossed with olive-oil brushed bread that has been lightly toasted, a slightly tart wine vinegar dressing and some soft salad leaves. Most fortuitous, for me at least, was the surfeit of raggedy chicken leftovers so make stock with.
For dessert I wanted to celebrate the warm days so it was out with the rich chocolate puds and in with a light fruity dish, pinched from the ever-reliable Nigel Slater. Plums de-stoned and halved, the pink cavities filled with whole raspberries and then each half is smeared with a generous spoonful of creamy mascarpone cheese, gently scented with vanilla extract. This luscious dessert is then sprinkled with demerara sugar and put under a hot grill under golden and bubbling.
What is most wonderful is, depending on what time of year it is you can alter the fruits (i.e. peaches, poaches pears) and the filling (blackberries, blueberries, ground almonds or a whole ball of marzipan) to suit what is in season or to suit your palate. And it only takes 2 minutes to make! The perfect ending.

And Now For Something Completely Different...

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 13 Apr 2007 19:34:00 +0000

Weekend Dog Blogging! A non-food event held by Cate over at Sweetnicks that we've never participated in, yet I couldn't resist when I found this picture of Coney taking charge of my blog recently...she hates to be left out of anything and I have many pictures 'enhanced' by her big boisterous beak poking in the shot!
Also, note that A Cooks Tour is on the TV. Remember? The one where Anthony and his brother eat oysters in France. At least, that's what it looks like. It could be a home improvement show too!

And After All That....A Gentle Supper

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 13 Apr 2007 06:41:00 +0000

After working on something challenging like the Cochon du Tete, not to mention the surfeit of food we had over Easter, I placed a moratorium on stodgy food. So, whilst you guys have been reading about us being elbow deep in pig head, we have actually been treating our stomachs to lighter fare. Pasta with Cauliflower, Stir Fry and last nights cholesterol friendly dish.
I have raved about Lindsay Barehams latest cookbook, The Fish Store, for some while now and each time I read it, I find another exciting and quick supper dish.
Paul and I love Puy Lentils, we had some packets of herbs wilting in the refrigerator (do we have anything that isn't wilting in the fridge?) and some frozen cod. This particular dish, Poached Cod with Puy Lentils and Salsa Verde had our name written all over it.
Ahh, about the Cod. I had seen it lurking in the freezer a few weeks ago and presumed that I had bought it a few weeks ago. When I read the Use By date it said 20th June....no year mentioned but I optimistically assumed 2006. Sure, I was wary about using nearly year old frozen fish but I wanted to cook that dish, I had no expendable cash to buy fresh and there it was.
So, on thawing it looked somewhat dessicated, more like my Salt Cod stash than fresh Cod. I figured poaching it would bring it back round. And, to a certain extent it did. Of course it wasn't as moist or flaky as fresh Cod but it still tasted fine and I sit here typing this with no gastro-intestinal disorders to speak of. Yet.
If you want to replicate this recipe, I would certainly recommend buying a fresh piece though! The flavours are so simple that the quality of each one is paramount. You do need to make the Salsa Verde or something similar because that tangy, herby sauce brings the lentils and fish together in a fantastic way. Plus, whatever herbs you have, whatever time of year it is, you can whizz up and make something that tastes fresh and tastebud tinglingly good. Salsa Verde is particularly wonderful with any fish, but you could also toss warm new potatoes in it or serve it with a rich meat, like lamb. The recipe given below is Barehams own, but providing you retain the base elements of tartness (if you don't like mustard, perhaps add a dash of wine vinegar), pungency (garlic and anchovies) and the green herbiness, you can just run with the ball.
POACHED COD WITH PUY LENTILS AND SALSA VERDE serves 2
Ingredients:
COD AND LENTILS:
2 Fillets of Fresh Cod, skin removed
Juice of One Lemon
250g Puy Lentils
1 Onion, peeled and studded with one clove
Bay Leaf
Chicken Stock Cube
Seasoning
SALSA VERDE
40g Fresh Parsley, stalks removed
Some Mint Leaves
Some Basil Leaves
2-4 Anchovies to taste
Some Capers to taste
Olive Oil
1-2 Cloves Garlic, depending on how garlicky you want it, obviously
Mustard to Taste
METHOD:
To make the Salsa Verde, which only improves when kept in the fridge overnight, place the roughly chopped garlic in a spice grinder, along with the herbs, anchovies, capers, mustard and a good slug of olive oil. Note: If you are using Wine Vinegar instead of Mustard, do not add as much Olive Oil.
Process until it forms a lumpy green mixture. You will probably need to add more Olive Oil if at this point it resembles compressed grass cuttings. You want it to be the texture of a tomato salsa so quite slack. Taste for seasoning and add a good grind of salt and pepper and process some more. Add more of any of the above ingredients if you feel it needs it. And that's it!
To make the Lentils, place the studded onion, bay leaf and about 300ml cold water in a saucepan with the stock cube and lentils. Bring to the boil then turn down to a low simmer. Puy Lentils take anywhere between 20-40 minutes to cook, depending on the brand etc. Once they are cooked they will not be mushy but have a delightful nutty bite to them without being tooth-crackingly hard. Taste for seasoning and add salt and pepper as necessary. Do not oversalt as the stock cube will already be fairly salty and lentils soak up flavours like a sponge.
To make the cod, bring a pan of salted water to the boil and add the lemon juice. Gently drop the cod fillets into your replicated brine and bring to the boil once more. Turn off and leave for five minutes. Drain using a slotted spoon to avoid the flesh breaking up and place on a plate with the lentils and a large spoonful of the salsa verde.
Enjoy!