Writing At The Kitchen Table

COFFEE!

2009-06-12T11:25:00.002Z

We are excited to be moving away from the blogging world and into the coffee business.....confused? Well, check out our new website:
www.wellgrounded.co.uk
for our new venture. We are selling fairtrade coffee and tea, imported from all over the world, in association with Coulee Coffee in Paul's hometown.
Our online shop is not yet open but there is a free gift for for everyone who joins our mailing list and you will be the first to know when our new shop is open! In the meantime, there is plenty of wordy stuff to read on the site.
Bookmark Well Grounded and stay tuned for the latest!!
Thanks!

New Beginnings

2008-10-01T15:32:00.005Z

Still in it's embryonic stages, not entirely perfect but this is what the techno-nerds refer to as Beta: our new blog, revolving entirely around that most perfect of foods: chocolate. For those of you who still drop in occasionally, do call round our new blog for a cup of steaming hot chocolate - you won't regret it! And don't forget to tell us what you think:

THE COCOA LOUNGE

Thanks for all your support for Writing at the Kitchen Table and we hope that you will enjoy the new blog and still get inspiration from the old one, as we continue to be inspired by all food bloggers out there!

A Tale of Two Soups

2007-12-14T12:18:00.000Z

Whilst the shimmering frost looks delightful and the pale blue/grey wintry sky are truly evocative of every other winter that has passed me by, I am already longing for the past (or, preferably future) summer. Despite the sun closing up early and denying us of mood-enhancing daylight, the days seem much longer as I shiver in my car on the way to work. Fortunately, we have Christmas to look forward to, and, although it’s gone before it seems to have barely arrived, the days leading up to Christmas are always thrilling. There’s the Gingerbread House to make, biscuits and cookies to take to work, the tree to decorate and presents to buy and wrap.
So, because of all this extra activity, we need quick and nourishing meals, using up wilting vegetables from the fridge to ensure plenty of room for the seasonal extras. And what quick and nourishing meal do the Ericksons always turn to in days of financial hardship and droopy vegetables? That’s right, soup.
The first soup, Mushroom and Wild Rice, is incredibly simple, some mushrooms sauteed in butter with a little fresh Thyme, some garlic before being pressed gently through a sieve. The garlicky/fungus liquid is then used to form the basis of the soup alongside a basic roux, and the rest is made up with milk. The mushrooms are then added to this rich soup with some wild rice and simmered gently for about 45 minutes.
The second soup is truly a testament to my ingenuity in the kitchen or you could call it “good luck”. A three week old bunch of Broccoli, rapidly turning yellow is simmered in some chicken stock with a diced potato and some sauteed onion. This is then pureed and returned to the pan with a little cooked shredded chicken (entirely optional) and enriched with a swirl of single cream. As someone who generally despises Broccoli, this tasted revelatory. At last! A way to make those little green trees interesting!
Despite both soups being “leftover” users, with the right garnish, they are also elegant enough for a dinner party yet hearty and speedy enough for a quick after work supper.

MUSHROOM AND WILD RICE SOUP – serves 2-4
Ingredients:
250g Mushrooms, cleaned of any loose soil with kitchen paper or a soft brush and roughly chopped. I used Chestnuts Mushrooms but normal white, cultivated ones would be OK. You can, of course, use Shiitake or Oyster or Wild for an even better flavour.
50g Butter
Spring of Fresh Thyme
2 Cloves Garlic, finely chopped
25g Flour
25g Wild Rice
1 Pint Milk
Salt and Pepper and a little Nutmeg
METHOD:
Gently saute the chopped mushrooms, Thyme and Garlic in 25g of the butter. Grind over a little pepper and salt to help release the juices. Cook until softened and easily pierced with a fork.
Strain through a sieve into a bowl, reserving both the liquid and the mushrooms separately.
In the same pan, melt the remaining 25g of butter and whisk in the flour, until a smooth roux is formed. Pour over the onion juice and half the pint of milk. Bring gently to the boil but keep whisking to ensure it does not go lumpy or stick. Add more milk if the soup seems too thick.
Grate over a little nutmeg.
Add the reserved chopped mushrooms and the rice. Leave to simmer gently until the rice is softened. Season as necessary and serve.

BROCCOLI AND CHICKEN SOUP serves 4-6
Ingredients:
Large head of Broccoli, about 300 or 400g, cut into small florets
1 Medium Onion, peeled and roughly chopped
1 Medium Potato, peeled and diced
1 Pint Chicken Stock
Olive Oil
Salt and Pepper
Shredded Cooked Chicken (optional)
Some Single Cream (optional)
METHOD:
Heat a little olive oil in a large saucepan and saute the onion until translucent. Add the diced potatoes and florets of broccoli, sauteing briefly before covering with the chicken stock. Bring to the boil, cover and turn down to a gently simmer.
Cook until the potatoes and broccoli are tender.
Pour this mixture into a blender, leaving some whole pieces behind for texture if you want. Process until smooth and return to the saucepan. Taste for seasoning. Stir in the shredded chicken if using and cook gently for another couple of minutes. Stir through some single cream to further enrich the soup and serve.
ENJOY!

St Lucia Day

2007-12-13T10:59:00.000Z

O, Saint Lucia,
O, Saint Lucia,
Wearing white,
Lighting up the darkest
Lighting up the darkest
Winter night,
Winter night

Today, the 13th December, marks the Feast Day of St Lucia, a European religious holiday dedicated to the Italian saint, Lucia. Lucia is the patron saint of Sicily (also known as Syracuse), who, supposedly due to nothing more than a spurned lover, suffered a martyrs death in the 400AD.
Throughout Italy, Sweden and Denmark, she is marked by either the eldest daughter of the household wearing a white dress (to symbolise the sainthood and purity of Lucia) with a red band (symbolising her death – she had miraculously survived the traditional martyrs death of burning, the flames refusing to lap near her feet, so her spurned lover stabbed her). A crown of candles completes Lucia’s image, originally enabling her to use both hands to bring ample food to the banished Christians in the dark catacombs of Sicily. These days, the symbolic eldest daughter brings Saffron Buns or Lussekattes (St Lucias Cat) to their parents for breakfast or to school teachers. It is an exciting remembrance as it also represents the beginning of the Advent and, whilst not an official holiday, it is spent celebrating with lots of food and seasonal jollity. It is known as the Festival of Lights.
Despite us miserable Brits not celebrating such joyous remembrances, it would be well worth adding the St Lucia Bun to your all-year-round baking repertoire. An incredibly tender (due to the two packages of yeast and a whole cupful of cream), sweet Saffron scented dough that requires no kneading and is so easy and generous to handle that you can form the buns into traditional “cat” shapes, swirls or plaits, complicated knots and twists or simple Brioche-style rolls. They are delicious served hot with lots of melting, unsalted butter and spread thickly with jam or, as my husband discovered, they also suit the tangy filling of feta cheese with cucumber. St Lucia Buns also freeze remarkably well, given their delicate disposition, and this recipe makes quite a few so this could come in handy. Also, with a pinch more salt added to the dough, these would also make a delicious dinner roll.
The recipe is taken from The Great Scandinavian Baking Book by Beatrice Ojakangas.
SAFFRON CHRISTMAS BREAD OR SAFFRON BUNS
Ingredients:
2 Packages of Dried Yeast
½ Cup Warm Water
½ Cup Sugar
½ Cup Melted Butter (4oz), cooled slightly
1 Cup Light or Single Cream
¼ - ½ Teaspoon Saffron, preferably powdered
2 Eggs
4 Cups Plain Flour
Raisins for decoration (optional)
Glaze:
1 Egg
2 Tbsp. Milk
METHOD:
Sprinkle the dried yeast over the warm water, add a tablespoon of the sugar and leave to bubble up, about 5 minutes or so.
Add the melted butter, cream, saffron and eggs and beat until you get a smooth, shiny batter.
Add one cupful at a time of the flour, ensuring that you beat well between additions to ensure that you maintain the shiny, smooth batter. Once all the flour is amalgamated, cover with clingfilm and refrigerate for between 4-24 hours.
Preheat oven to 180c.
The dough will now have easily doubled in size and you will be able to break of small handfuls of the dough. Lightly flour your hands and shape them, either in traditional St Lucia formations (often a cat, ox, boar or Christmas cross) or in simple bread rolls or plaits. You could also make one large wreath by dividing the dough into three, plaiting it and then curling it into a circle, pinching together the ends to form a complete wreath. This way of serving the bread is often studded with candles and used as a stunning, edible centrepiece on the table.
Place your formed buns onto lightly greased baking sheet(s) and leave to rise for another 45 minutes or so. Decorate with Raisins.
Brush with the beaten egg and milk wash and bake for between 20-35 minutes or until lightly golden.
Serve with butter and jam or experiment with sandwich fillings.
ENJOY ST LUCIA DAY!

Tiffin and Flapjack!

2007-12-11T14:31:00.000Z

Whilst Tiffin and Flapjack sound like the latest zany duo on the Cartoon Network, a pair of coyote-foiling, acorn hurling squirrels or something, they are, of course, merely sweet treats that will satisfy a sugary craving.
Both Tiffin and Flapjacks are subject to much universal confusion. In the UK, Flapjacks are an oaty/sugary/buttery concoction, beloved by schoolchildren from a certain generation everywhere (American readers may know Flapjacks, however, as a sort of pancake).
They (that is, the British version) are incredibly simple to make (melt butter with some sugar and golden syrup, stir in oats, press into tin and bake) and have a slightly higher nutritional value on the sliding scale of sugary treats (which ranges from saccharin hell up to sweet, sweet heaven (this higher echelon is currently inhabited by Candied Yams). However, the Flapjacks do contain Oatmeal which, even combined liberally with butter and sugary stuff, is incredibly good for you, having cholesterol busting properties and offering slow-releasing carbohydrates and sugars. This particular version, also contains another health-hero, the banana. It keeps the Flapjacks much moister than those crunchy ones you used to get at school, with a delicious banana flavour that isn’t too overpowering.
Tiffin is known in South India as a between-meals snack or light lunch. Much like the Japanese have Bento Boxes for their immaculately compartmentalised lunches, the Indians have Tiffin-Boxes. Tiffin over here is simply refrigerator cake or chocolate biscuit cake. For many, along with Flapjacks, it will have marked the start of infantile cooking, pour and stir recipes offering children a quick and satisfying treat. Much like the Flapjacks, Tiffin is melted butter and golden syrup, this time mixed with molten chocolate that is then bolstered generously with crushed Rich Tea biscuits, raisins, hazelnuts and coconut or perhaps glace cherries. The options are endless. And, if you use a decent dark chocolate, Tiffin makes a rich, decadent treat for grown ups too.
I am choosing to keep some pieces of Tiffin and squares of Flapjacks in our biscuit tin whilst we are “eating healthily” because I know exactly what has gone in them and I feel that we have greater control over our intake of sugar and fat this way. Besides, both are so rich that you only require a small square to feel that your sweet tooth can take that well-earned break from bugging you.
Both of these recipes come from one of my favourite cookbooks at the moment, Sue Lawrence’s Book of Baking. All of the recipes are simple enough for the non-baker or young person taking tentative steps towards cooking. She writes in a straight-forward, non-flowery manner as you would expect of a Scotswoman and everything looks delicious, comforting and homely. Highly recommended.
To make the Banana Flapjacks, here’s how:
BANANA FLAPJACKS recipe from Sue Lawrence’s Book of Baking
Ingredients:
125g Unsalted Butter
85g Light Muscovado or Brown Sugar
2 Tablespoons Golden Syrup
350g Porridge Oats
½ Teaspoon Baking Powder
2 Medium Ripe Bananas, peeled and mashed
METHOD:
Preheat oven to 180c. Lightly butter a baking sheet, 9” x 13”.
Gently melt the butter, sugar and Golden Syrup in a large saucepan.
Once melted, stir in the porridge oats along with baking soda until completely combined.
Stir in the mashed banana and turn out the mixture into the greased sheet. Press down firmly.
Bake for about 15-20 minutes or until the Flapjacks are starting to brown around the edges and the middle feels firm to the touch. They will firm up as they cool, so leave in the baking sheet before cutting and removing.
Cut into 2-3” squares.
Serve and enjoy! To maintain absolute freshness, keep in an airtight tin, as they can tend to go soggy the next day because of the banana.

And the Tiffin:
TIFFIN or CHOCOLATE BISCUIT CAKE adapted from Book of Baking by Sue Lawrence
Ingredients:
175g Unsalted Butter (I used salted though without any undue flavour confliction)
2 tbsp. Golden Syrup
250g good quality Dark Chocolate (for those of you who live in the UK, Aldi do a very reasonable and delicious cooking chocolate, in both milk and dark)
280g Rich Tea or Digestives or a Combination, crushed roughly in a freezer bag
170g Raisins
85g Roasted and Coarsely Chopped Hazelnuts
METHOD:
Gently melt the butter, chocolate and golden syrup in a large saucepan until melted and glossy.
Stir in the crushed biscuit pieces, the raisins and the hazelnuts.
Turn out into a lightly greased cake tin, 9” square.
Refrigerate for at least 2 hours, preferably overnight, before cutting into squares and gorging.
OPTIONAL: You can halve the raisins and add 85g of coconut as per the original recipe, or replace the raisins with glace cherries. Play around with whatever nuts, dried fruit and biscuits or cookies you have lying around.
ENJOY!

A Little Vegetarian Butchery

2007-12-05T13:45:00.000Z

If you are a dyed in the wool, gnawing meat from the bone carnivore, it can seem a little daunting cooking for a vegetarian. After all, you can’t just serve them what you’re already having, minus the meat part. A plate of vegetables seems a little meagre.
When I was a vegetarian, during my misspent youth, my mum used to spend hours pouring over Linda McCartney cookbooks, trying to find recipes that made my diet not only interesting, but nutritious. And it must have worked – I was never ill ,although I was skinny as a rake (perhaps I should consider taking up vegetarianism again, in light of our current dietary issues). There wasn’t the vast array of vegetarian options that you have today. Perhaps through fear of the unknown, my mother refused to cook TVP (Textured Vegetable Protein) and to this day has a lifelong aversion to Tofu. Therefore, the bulk of my meals came from potatoes, cheese, onions and pasta. Fortunately for me, I adore anything starchy/carbohydrate heavy and it wasn’t until I started eating meat again that I actually put on weight.
But I digress. Whilst flipping idly through a copy of the Classic Cheese Cookery by Peter Graham, I came across a Jane Grigson recipe for an old Welsh classic, Glamorgan Sausages. There is little historical background as to how this dish first came into existence, however, it is fair to assume that it came about through necessity and frugality, rather than to please the local vegetarians.
Glamorgan Sausages are a rich combination of breadcrumbs, local cheese (Caerphilly is traditional) and leek or spring onion, seasoned generously with herbs and bound together with egg yolks. This mixture is then formed into small sausages, dipped in egg white and more breadcrumbs before being fried in a little oil, ‘til golden. We served them with a light tomato salad to cut through the richness of the cheesy sausages and indeed, they would be delicious served cold, dipped in ketchup or mustard too.
Instead of the Caerphilly, we used cheddar although you don’t want a cheese that is too strong or oily, but likewise firm with a good melting texture and robust flavour. We also thought that perhaps some frozen peas or sweetcorn stirred into the mixture would add a cheerful freshness. If you were feeling non-frugal, you could perhaps stir in some pesto instead of mustard, some toasted pine-nuts and roll the sausages in some Parmesan spiked breadcrumbs for an Italian feel.
But for now, here’s the basic recipe, to play with as you wish:
GLAMORGAN SAUSAGES – makes 6-8 depending on how large you roll them
Ingredients:
145g Freshly Grated Caerphilly, Lancashire or Cheddar Cheese
120g Fresh White Breadcrumbs (although I used brown granary which gave the sausages a deliciously nutty taste)
2 Tbsp Chopped Leek or Spring Onion
3 Egg Yolks
½ Teaspoon Fresh Thyme
1 Tbsp Fresh Chopped Parsley
1 Tsp Mustard (I used Dijon)
Salt and Pepper
1 Egg White
Extra Breadcrumbs for Coating (Panko are delicious if you don’t have any fresh leftover)
Vegetable Oil for frying
METHOD:
Heat some vegetable oil in a frying pan, over moderate heat.
In a large bowl, mix together the cheese, breadcrumbs and leek or spring onions.
Stir in the egg yolks, herbs, mustard and salt and pepper. Mix well until a cohesive mixture is formed. Add a little water if the mixture is a bit crumbly, more breadcrumbs if too wet. The mixture should be moist but not sticky.
Form into 6-8 small sausages, dipping each into egg white and then into the reserved breadcrumbs.
Shallow fry them until they are golden on each side, about 5-7 minutes, and the middle is melting.
ENJOY!

A Sweet (and Savoury) Treat

2007-12-04T10:56:00.000Z

I have always had this thing for salty/sweet foods. As a wayward youth, I would dip McDonalds French Fries into their thick chocolate shakes. I have also been known to eat Kit Kat Chunky bars with a packet of Ready Salted Crisps. And of course, I adore anything that combines peanut butter with chocolate.
However, this strange compulsion did not manage to reach the dinner table. That is, until Sunday.
Cooking an ad-hoc and very late Thanksgiving Meal for Paul and a couple of friends, I was asked to prepare Sweet Potatoes with Marshmallows, Green Bean Casserole and Cranberry Sauce. It was the least I could do, considering I refused to cook a large turkey (a turkey for four equates to lots of leftovers that just end up in the dogs bowl – not that they mind) and forgot to make any stuffing for the organic chicken I prepared instead.
Paul has been requesting Sweet Potatoes with Marshmallows (known in the US as Candied Sweet Potatoes or Yams) every Thanksgiving that I’ve known him and for some reason I’ve never actually prepared it. This year though, I relented. I pulled out a recipe from Nigella Lawson’s Feast and got to work.
The sweet potatoes are drizzled with a little olive oil, wrapped in foil and baked at a reasonably high temperature until meltingly soft. The orange flesh is then stripped easily from the skin and whipped up with some butter, cinnamon, salt and lime juice. This mash (tasty enough to serve alone) is then topped with marshmallows and seared in a really hot oven for 10 minutes until melty, crusty and browned. And that first taste? It is like an orgasm of flavour on the tongue. Every mouthful offers complete and utter satisfaction, whether you smear a dab of it on the chicken, or mix it with a little mashed potato or just savour it alone. Quite simply, it is the best side dish I have ever tasted, all other dishes fading into simple mediocrity when pitched against this ambrosial treat.
Furthermore, the dish transported me, via its heady, scented taste to America, where I have never eaten them before. I have, however, smelt this cinnamon sweet smell all over the US at Thanksgiving. A simple, sweet aroma that I truly gave thanks for.
The best thing about Thanksgiving? I never thought I would say this, but the leftovers. Our guests were sitting on the fence about the Sweet Potatoes (but they loved the Green Bean Casserole) and apparently aren’t as fiendishly desiring of vegetables in various states of mashed-ness. The next day, we fried up the mashed potato and mashed parsnip (another fantastic way to serve this underused vegetable: boil until tender, then mash with lots of butter, salt, pepper, nutmeg, dash of maple syrup and a small glug of brandy or rum) with some leftover brussel sprouts: a slightly different version of Bubble and Squeak. This was served alongside the reheated Sweet Potato Marshmallow nectar (still just as good), and some baked beans. Sure, it was a little strange but it was more than just a little great. And not just for Thanksgiving.

If the taste alone isn't enough to get you try it, there are the health benefits from eating Sweet Potatoes (if you minus the marshmallows). They are rich in complex carbohydrates, Vitamin C and Vitamin B6 plus Beta Carotine. In 1992, the Sweet Potato ranked highest, compared to other vegetables, for nutritional content and benefit. They are incredibly good for diabetics (definitely minus the marshmallows!) as they can stabilise the blood sugar levels too.
And if you’ll excuse me, I have to go out and buy some Sweet Potatoes – I have half a bag of marshmallows that desperately need using up.

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

2007-11-30T11:32:00.000Z

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.3

2007-11-28T08:17:00.000Z

The third and final sweet treat of Thanksgiving was a spin on the classic Pumpkin Pie.
I find Pumpkin Pie to be a little anti-climatic, possibly because it is not part of my foodie heritage and to that end, Paul is not a big fan of our Christmas Pudding.
It is an interesting nuance of our foodie cultures that we expect certain foods at specific times of the year, otherwise it would seem as though something were missing. For example, I loath Christmas Cake, can't stand it, but I love the stiring and baking ritual of it, the smell of spices filling the kitchen as it cooks.
Likewise, I find the pumpkin/eggy mixture to be a little cloying. One slice is always more than enough. Curiously, I adore Egg Custard Tarts, with their speckly Nutmeg tops, and Pumpkin Pie is merely an orange extension of that ancient tart.
The Pumpkin Pie is steeped in history, just as our Christmas Pud is: the first European settlers (eventually deciding to live on the Plimoth Plantation in New England in 1621) discovering how the American Indians made great use of this fantastically shaped gourd, the Pumpkin, found it incredibly versatile, and used it in both sweet and savoury dishes.
The American love of pies goes back many hundreds of years so it comes as little surprise then that the settlers used simmered pumpkin flesh in a pie of sorts. In those formative days, they would not have had ovens, so they may have filled the hollowed out shells with the flesh simmered with milk, honey and spices. This would have then been baked in hot ashes and produced the earliest variations of Pumpkin Pie, albeit a pie without a crust.
The first mention of a pie crust (or paste) being filled with pumpkin, was in 1651 and not by a Settlement wife, but by French chef, Francois Pierre la Varenne:

"Tourte of pumpkin - Boile it with good milk, pass it through a straining pan very thick, and mix it with sugar, butter, a little salt and if you will, a few stamped almonds; let all be very thin. Put it in your sheet of paste; bake it. After it is baked, besprinkle it with sugar and serve."

In 1796, some 140 years later or thereabouts, the first American Cookbook was published, American Cooking by an American Orphan (actually Amelia Simmons) and she notes, not one, but two recipes for Pompkin Pudding (sic):

Pompkin Pudding No. 1. One quart stewed and strained, 3 pints cream, 9 beaten eggs, sugar, mace, nutmeg and ginger, laid into paste No. 7 or 3, and with a dough spur, cross and chequer it, and baked in dishes three quarters of an hour.
Pompkin Pudding No. 2. One quart of milk, 1 pint pompkin, 4 eggs, molasses, allspice and ginger in a crust, bake 1 hour.

Her charming recipes are very similar to those we utilise today, securing the Pumpkin Pie’s place in culinary history as a true American Classic. However, being a classic simply isn’t enough for some of us and this age-old recipe has to be tweaked, primped and altered beyond all recognition. Enter Ina Garten.
I love Ina Garten and her carefree style of cooking. Her portion diagnostics occasionally leave a little to be desired for those cooking only for 2 or 4, but a little modifications usually reigns them back in.
In her latest book, Barefoot Contessa at Home, she gives us a winning alternative to Pumpkin Pie in the form of Pumpkin Parfait. Whilst she doesn't exactly sell it to me by referring to it as "...certainly not the worst dessert I'd invented," it is in fact much better than you might imagine.
A whippy, light concoction of tinned pumpkin spiced up with nutmeg and cinnamon of course, a whole cup of two different types of sugar (brown and white), whipped, sweetened cream, a good slug of rum, and for gelatin virgins, a gentle primer in the form of a sachet of, well, gelatin.
This is layered up with more whipped cream and ginger biscuits, to form a deliciously creamy dessert that deserves more than one outing a year.
Ina suggests making the Ginger Cookies (recipe in aforementioned book), but being short on time, I bought some Stem Ginger Cookies which worked really well. At a push, Ginger Nuts (Ginger Snaps) would be great too. The dessert is incredibly rich and certainly needs the bite of something crunchy so don’t be afraid to stack up the ginger biscuits.
One last proviso – if you are serving this dessert for ‘special’ guests, don’t do what I did and forget that you don’t actually have any sundae glasses. As you can see, we had to make do with a beer tankard (yes, of course we have those!), a wine glass and a plastic tumbler. We call it ‘homestyle’.
Here’s the recipe, post-Thanksgiving or not, it’s a great way to use up any old cans of pumpkin you might have lying around, or to utilise them big ol’ gourds that you wondered if you could actually manage to grow this year…

PUMPKIN PARFAIT from Ina Gartens’ Barefoot Contessa at Home
Ingredients:
¼ Cup Rum (I used Brandy, which was just as good)
1 Sachet Gelatin
1 x 15oz Can of pure Pumpkin (not pie filling)
½ Cup Granulated Sugar
½ Cup Light Brown Sugar
2 Large Egg Yolks
½ Tsp Cinnamon
¼ Tsp Ground Nutmeg
Zest of One Orange (I omitted this due to lack of oranges)
½ Tsp Salt
1 ½ Cups Double (Heavy) Cream
1 ½ Tsp Vanilla Extract
2 Cups Whipped Cream plus more for topping
Box Ginger Cookies (or use your own recipe)
Crystallised Ginger for Decoration (optional)
METHOD:
Place the rum/brandy in the top half of a double boiler. Sprinkle with the gelatin and leave to one side for 5-10 minutes. Meanwhile, half fill the bottom half with water and bring to a lively simmer.
In a large bowl, whisk the pumpkin, sugars, egg yolks, orange zest, spices and salt. Set to one side.
Place the pan with the rum/brandy and gelatin over the simmering water and cook until the gelatin has completely dissolved.
Whisk immediately into the pumpkin mixture.
In another bowl, whisk up the double cream with a little icing sugar and the vanilla until it peaks softly. Fold into the ochre pumpkin mix.
To assemble, put a thick layer of the pumpkin mousse into the bottom of your sundae glasses (or beer tankards), then a good gloop of whipped cream, then a couple of ginger biscuits. Continue until all of your mixtures are used up. The parfaits will look gorgeously swirled and peachy.
Cover with cling film and chill for at least four hours, preferably overnight.
To serve, top with more fresh whipped cream and crystallised ginger crumbled.
ENJOY!

A Sweet Thanksgiving Pt.2

2007-11-27T12:07:00.000Z

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!

A Sweet Thanksgiving Pt.1

2007-11-25T18:21:00.001Z

Just because Paul and I ‘eat sensibly’ during the week doesn’t mean that we don’t treat ourselves at the weekends. And this weekend was no exception. In fact, I probably went a little OTT with the sweet treat, making not one, not two but three puds!
OK, so one of them had to be made for Paul’s pumpkin Thanksgiving treat. The other two, well, I just felt like making them.
Here then, is the part one of our Sweet Thanksgiving Weekend one off series: Cafe Sperl's Plum Squares.
The recipe, taken from Diana Henry’s wonderful Roast Figs, Sugar Snow, has been tempting me for some time. I haven’t done a lot of baking for a while and this recipe seemed like a gently re-introduction into the fine world of blending cream, sugar and flour to produce something sublime.
This recipe involves a vanilla scented shortcrust base that is easily whipped up in the food processor (although could be mixed up by hand), chilled for half an hour and then pressed into a baking sheet. It is then topped with stoned and halved plums or damsons, sprinkled with a generous amount of sugar and baked until fruit is verging on sweet, sticky collapse. The fruity shortbread is then glazed with hot apricot jam, left to set and cut into squares.
Aside from the dazzling, gem-like finish, this is otherwise a fairly unassuming looking cake/biscuit(?), with a flat base. Once you bite through the sticky tart and sweet fruit into the fragrant crumbly pastry, you are transported (with a bit of imagination) to a baroque-style café in Vienna, sipping hot chocolate and watching children sweep by in velvet coats on ice skates.
There is something timeless about these simple sweetmeats, so easy to make and yet incredibly complex on the taste buds.

I used some frozen plums left over from late Summer, but you could also use slices of pear or apple, fresh blackberries, greengages or gooseberries. The fruit doesn’t need to emit too much liquid as it cooks, lest you should suffer a soggy bottom, although a light dusting of fine cornmeal (polenta) on the base before you layer up the fruit should soak up too much ooze if you really fancy trying it with strawberries or raspberries.
A simple, sweet treat that can be made the day before you want to serve it, looks just as charming served casually with a cup of tea or coffee as with a generous slug single cream for a decadent pudding.

CAFE SPERL'S PLUM SQUARES (from Diana Henry's Roasted Figs, Sugar Snow)
Ingredients:
200g Plain Flour
100g Butter, not fridged
175g Caster Sugar
Salt
1 Egg Yolk
1 Tsp. Vanilla Extract
675g Plums or other soft fruit, de-stoned if necessary
2 tbsp Sugar
200g Redcurrant or Apricot Jam
METHOD:
To make the base, place the flour and butter in a food processor fitted with the plastic blade and process until the mixture resembles breadcrumbs. Add the sugar and salt, mix again.
Add the egg yolk and vanilla and process until it forms a rough ball.
Scoop out of the processor bowl, form into a ball, wrap in clingfilm and chill for half an hour.
Preheat oven 180c.
Halve the plums and de-stone.
Into a lined baking sheet 8 x 12" square, press the dough out.
Press the plums into the dough rectangle in rows, making just one layer.
Sprinkle with the 2 tablespoons of sugar and bake for 35-45 minutes until the fruit is soft, sticky and caramelised. The pastry, where exposed, should be a golden brown colour.
Leave to cool.
Melt the jam with a little water and brush generously over the fruit. It should be gleaming and glossy.
Leave to set, then cut into 3" squares, larger or smaller if you'd prefer.
Enjoy!

The Puddings Start Tomorrow!

2007-11-23T11:19:00.000Z

The joy of soup is in its relative simplicity, quickness and the instant gratification you get from the very first spoonful.
But, when I tell my Mother that I’m cooking soup for tea, she’s quick to point out: “how on earth will Paul be full on that?”
I have noticed that certain people from a certain generation feel that meat and two veg is the only meal you can serve your hardworking husband when he gets home from work.. After all, a strapping young man like that needs his nourishment.
What most people don’t know about Paul though, is that he was a vegetarian in his youth and in college survived on a diet of boiled rice and soy sauce. For which I thank him profusely.
Our conjoined lives are made that much easier by our non-committal to a raging, carnivorous desire to eat red meat garnished with the odd overcooked sprout or soggy carrot. We don’t spend our evenings gnawing on ribs and tossing the bones to our drooling, anticipatory hounds, or nibbling chicken wings clean, cartilage, tendons and all.
That’s not to say that we don’t have our moments. On next weeks menu is Oxtail Soup, made with one of the most gelatinous, meaty and flavoursome parts of the bovine beastie. And any leftover meat I plan to throw into a hearty Mulligatawny Soup.
But for last nights meal we tucked into steaming bowls of Green Thai Curry Soup, bolstered generously with Mange Tout, shredded chicken breast, French Beans and Beansprouts.
And that’s the thing about soup. You think it’s never going to be enough, but as you reach the bottom of the bowl, scooping out all the best bits that have sunk to the bottom, concealed like buried treasure beneath the pale green broth, you start thinking: “I couldn’t manage another bite. Well, maybe a couple of peanut M&Ms.”
For those of you who are Thai Green Curry virgins or have only used the stuff in jars, I would suggest that you try to make your own paste. Most ingredients are readily available from your local supermarket now and it keeps for a couple of weeks in the fridge in a seal tight container (I keep mine in the little coffee/spice grinder I make it in), and in fact, improves over time, becoming more mellow and flavourful. At a push, the jarred pastes are generally quite good.
One final note: the vegetables and meat recommended are just that: a recommendation. We use what we have lying around. You could use prawns instead of chicken, or one of those mixed seafood selections (just remember to put them in at the very last moment lest the squid turn into rubber). Thinly sliced beef or pork would also add a good flavour to the soup. And just for the record: the meat is entirely optional. Vegetables could include fresh thinly sliced Shiitake Mushrooms, baby corn, Bok Choi, Aubergine, Courgette or perhaps even some diced squash. I also place some Straight to Wok noodles in the bottom of the bowls and pour the soup over the top. You could boil up some regular dried noodles if you’re not a fan of the Straight to Wok ones.
TIP! A way to make the soup even more nutritious and savoury is to add half a block of creamed coconut to a pint of boiling chicken/fish/vegetable stock and then stir in a tablespoon of crunchy peanut butter. Whisk together well then add to the paste where you would normally add the coconut milk.
THAI GREEN CURRY SOUP
serves 4-6
Ingredients:
Paste (from Nigel Slater's Appetite)
4 lemongrass stalks, tougher outer leaves discarded
2-6 green chillies (the 3” long ones), deseeded or not depending on your heat tolerance
3 cloves garlic, chopped
2" galangal or ginger, peeled
2 shallots or half a small white onion, peeled, cut in half
4 tbsp chopped coriander
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp chopped lime zest
1 tbsp nam pla (Thai fish sauce)
½ tsp ground black peppercorns
Curry:
1 Tin Coconut Milk
400ml Chicken/Fish/Vegetable Fish Stock
500g Vegetables: baby corn, mange tout or sugar snap peas, halved Green Beans, Beansprouts, Diced Aubergine (nb: If you are using Aubergine, I would recommend frying it off with the meat before you add the paste, otherwise it just doesn’t taste that great), sliced Shiitake Mushrooms etc.
500g sliced Chicken (I used breast but thighs have a better flavour)/raw Prawns/thinly sliced Beef or Pork
3 Tablespoons Groundnut Oil
1 Tablespoon Nam Pla
Juice and Zest from 1 Lime
Half a Bunch of Chopped Coriander
Seasoning to Taste
METHOD:
To make the paste, throw all the ingredients into a spice grinder and whizz until fragrant and smooth. You may need to add a little more lime juice to get everything to cohere. Alternatively, you could probably do this in a blender or, the worst possible scenario, in a pestle and mortar.
To make the curry, heat the oil in a wok or shallow frying pan. Fry off the meat (i.e. chicken, beef, pork or aubergine if going for the vegetarian option) until browned on all sides. Remove to a plate.
Turn the heat down to medium and add a little more oil if the pan seems dry. Stir in a couple of tablespoons of your freshly made (or jarred) Thai Green Curry sauce. It will sizzle but then start to simmer. After a couple of minutes it will smell deliciously fresh and fragrant.
Pour over the coconut milk and stock or coconut/peanut butter mixture and bring to a brisk simmer. Leave to mingle for 5-10 minutes then add the Nam Pla, Lime Juice and Zest, browned Meat, Vegetables and half the chopped Coriander. Leave to simmer for another 5 minutes.
Taste for seasoning. I always need to add a little salt and pepper but you may not need to.
If you are using prawns or seafood add them now and simmer for a couple minutes more.
To serve, ladle into deep bowls and sprinkle with the remaining chopped Coriander.
You can also make this into a more substantial meal by adding a little cornflour dissolved in cold water to thicken it and serving with Jasmine Rice.
Enjoy!

Pot Stickers

2007-11-21T12:24:00.000Z

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!

A Life-Altering Soup

2007-11-20T11:33:00.000Z

I know, I’m already talking about soup again. I have written more posts extolling the joys of soup than any other dish. I never tire of them: delicate Miso-style broths, bolshy spicy meals-in-a-bowl, more stew than soup, or for ladies who lunch – purees of vegetables, extracting the sheer essence of asparagus, Jerusalem artichokes, or broccoli, to be sipped daintily.
Because Paul and I are on a strict (read: no chocolate, biscuits, cake, crisps or butter) but sensible diet, soups often appear on our evening dinner table (or rather, tray on lap, in front of telly): we have ‘cleansed’ our bodies with Miso Soups, made more substantial with sprinklings of spring onion, glass noodles, little prawn dumplings, beansprouts, tofu and Wakami (dried seaweed, packed with nutrients). I have also added highly nontraditional green beans, chopped in bite size pieces, frozen broad beans and shredded greens and red chillis. Herbs always make an aromatic brew, and coriander and mint are particularly alluring. Miso Soup can be surprisingly filling and feels incredibly nourishing. For flavour, I recommend the Miso Paste which comes in a jar in your local Health Store, but the instant sachets are OK if you’re pressed for time. Hidden at the bottom of your mug, within the murky depths, are tiny shavings of Bonito (dried tuna) and vivid green flecks of Wakami. I am constantly amazed at how the minuscule pieces of shrivelled seaweed swell and flourish when you pour hot water on them.
For a slightly more substantial but no less nourishing soup, I made my own variation of a Green Chilli recipe, taken from Gourmet Magazine (February 2007).
I am thrilled to discover that there are now several online suppliers of Mexican food in the UK. One company, Lupe Pintos, sell a vast array of the La Preferida range (which I often bring back with me in my suitcase after a trip to see the in-laws). Unfortunately this stuff doesn’t come cheap, but it’s worth experimenting with if you’re feeling particularly flush. The canned Chipotles in Adobe Sauce give real pep to a chilli that’s just missing something. Paul is a huge fan of the Refried Chipotle Beans and the Mexican Breadcrumbs make awesome fish fingers (cut a small loin of cod into 3” x 1” pieces, dip into seasoned flour, beaten egg then the breadcrumbs, fry for 2-3 minutes until golden brown and deliciously most. Serve in white bread with lettuce and mayo).
But, aside from the hottest potato chips I have ever tasted (Death Rain Habenero Chips – seductively hot), the product I was most interested in, and finally got around to using last night, was the White Hominy.
On first impressions, Hominy looks as though someone dropped their popcorn into 7-Up, literally soggy popcorn. Not surprising as it is actually dried corn kernels, soaked in an alkaline mixture (originally wood ash) until the husks are removed. The resulting nude kernel is then ready for use. This process goes by the catchy name of Nixtamalization, but despite the retro-trendy moniker, Hominy has been prepared in this manner since 1200BC. Curiously, this basic chemical process renders the kernel far more nutritious (and easier to digest) than nature originally intended.
It has a distinctive smell that reminded me of the Mexican food aisle in American supermarkets, but when used in a spicy soup or stew, it lightens a dish with its not-unpleasantly bland flavour and boiled potato texture.
It was, then, with great pleasure that I could finally bust open this enormous tin of White Hominy for use in the aforementioned Green Chilli Soup.
The original recipe uses ground pork but I didn’t have any ground pork and I felt that pork loin wouldn’t have the necessary flavour (much too lean) for the soup. This, in addition to the long cooking time it would take to tenderise the meat to raggedy standards I usually employ, meant that I decided to use a chicken breast instead. It’s the healthy option.
What’s so special about this recipe, you’re wondering. How about, a soup so fragrant with chilli and coriander and cumin that you can feel it behind your eyes. Every spoonful makes you smile and feel peaceful whilst simultaneously exciting your taste buds. Don’t panic: I’m not slipping over to the hippy darkside, I just found the soup wondrous.
So, enough wittering, you’re all thinking. We just want the recipe. OK. But, one last piece of advice that I would urge you to take: the garnishes of the toasted pumpkin seeds and sprinkled feta cheese are not optional. The lactic bite of the cheese (you could use goats cheese too) and the crunch of the seeds are as intrinsic to the dish as the fresh coriander (cilantro), chillis or cumin.
Oh, if you can’t find Hominy, I’m not sure what else to suggest. Canned Sweetcorn would be too sweet and overpowering, chick peas which look similar but are too firm and nutty. Just order a can of Hominy from either of these two online emporiums (if you’re in the UK, that is), Lupe Pintos or MexGrocer.co.uk.

GREEN CHILLI WITH CHICKEN AND HOMINY (adapted from a recipe from Gourmet Feb 07)
Ingredients:

1 Onion, peeled and cut into quarters
1-4 Jalapeno Chillis (I used the 3” chillis you can get in the supermarket in the UK, but I wussed out and de-seeded it. My heat tolerances are on go-slow at the moment), topped and cut into large chunks
2 Cloves Garlic, peeled and squashed with the back of a knife
1 ¾ Cups Chicken Stock (fresh is best, but I used a stock cube)
1 Teaspoon Cumin (I had run out of cumin powder so I toasted some seeds and ground my own in a pestle and mortar – the smell was heady and intoxicating, everyone should try it)
½ Teaspoon Salt (or to taste)
400g Hominy, drained and rinsed
1-2 Chicken Breasts, skin on or off
Half a bunch of Coriander (cilantro) or a couple of tablespoons, chopped
3 Tablespoons Vegetable Oil
Feta Cheese for Crumbling
Toasted Pumpkin Seeds for Sprinkling
METHOD:
Throw the quartered onion, chopped chilli, squashed garlic and quarter cup of the chicken stock into a food processor or blender and puree until smooth.
In a frying pan, heat one tablespoon of oil and fry off the chicken breasts until brown on both sides, this should take about 3-4 minutes. Remove to a plate.
Add the remaining oil, heat over medium high heat and stir in the onion/chilli/garlic puree mush. It will sizzle frantically for a few seconds.
Cook over a relatively high heat until the liquid has evaporated, stirring frequently, about 5-10 minutes.
Add the rest of the stock, the chicken, the cumin, salt and hominy, stir well and leave to simmer gently for about 5 more minutes or until the chicken is cooked.
Remove the chicken from the soup and shred, using two forks. Return to the soup, stir once more and serve in large deep bowls, sprinkled generously with the feta cheese and toasted pumpkin seeds.
Enjoy!

p.s. Thanks to everyone for their kind messages (and special thanks for Ulrike for her lovely postcards from Europe!) - I've missed everyone and I feel buoyed and refreshed to be back and I can't wait to catch up on everyone's blogs!

Another Daring Weekend

2007-07-30T06:40:00.000Z

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

Things in Batter

2007-07-16T12:16:00.001Z

For anyone who has tried to fry things encased in batter and failed, it can be quite daunting. For one thing, there’s all that hot, bubbling fat. Up until a couple of years ago, I wouldn’t even stand within a 10 metre radius of boiling fat, lest it should irrationally spew itself all over my delicate skin.
Of course, whilst fat does spit a little, notably when you drop things in it, if you’re careful and sensible, there should be no house fires, no third degree burns and certainly no horrible fried food.
And, unlike buying from the local chippy, you can control what goes in your batter, how long you cook it for and the cleanliness of the oil.
We all know that fried food is almost as bad for you as dating an unrehabilitated serial killer but damn! it does taste good. There is nothing in the world so good as biting through crisp batter (drained thoroughly and not soggy) into white, flaky, creamy fish. And the best batter of all? Beer Batter.
Beer Batter is like the Rolls Royce of the batter kingdom. Not light enough to coat delicately sliced vegetables tempura style, but not stodgy enough (and too expensive) for chip shops. It coats fish, onion rings, mushrooms and probably Mars Bars, beautifully. There is no pappy underbelly and it provides a wonderful coat of armour for whatever you choose to dip in it, protecting your food from the intense heat, ensuring that it remains piping hot and steamy, rather than dried out and yukky.
And once you start using batter, you may never stop finding things to try. We restrained ourselves at mushrooms but we gave serious consideration to bananas and then various chocolate bars. Thankfully, we didn’t have many lying around. We had planned on serving our battered fish in the traditional style, which is to say, with chips. However, the potatoes can fry up a little too sweet at this time of the year so we parboiled some new potatoes then fried them up. Paul made a fourth attempt at making some mayonnaise which was partially successful and we served the whole thing on a bed of bitter leaves.
Another consideration would be Cider Batter, a perfect medieval coating for perhaps Elderflower blooms or Courgette Flowers or slices of Apples.
Finally, there’s the matter of whose going to drink the leftover beer…
BEER BATTERED HADDOCK (or cod) serves 2
Ingredients:
2 x 150g Haddock or Cod, skinless, cut at the thick end of the fillet
150g Self-Raising Flour
100ml Lager, chilled
Salt and Pepper
Oil for Deep Frying
METHOD:
Preheat your frying oil, either in a deep fat fryer or a large saucepan to about 160c. You want the fish to fry gently not ferociously in the fat.
In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, some seasoning and the beer. It should be the texture of thick double cream to ensure a good coating. Add more beer if necessary, more flour if too thin.
Season the fish on both sides, then lightly dust with flour. This will help the batter adhere to the fish.
You may need to fry the fish in batches so dip one piece at a time, making sure it is completely coated before gently plunging into the hot oil. It will fizzle as the batter starts to bubble up and then gradually turn a beautiful golden brown.
If you are cooking in a saucepan, you may need to turn the fish over using tongs as it tends to bob up to the surface.
Fry the fish for between 5-6 minutes.
Drain on kitchen paper and serve with the potato based dish of your choice, preferably chips.
Enjoy!

An Italian Dessert

2007-07-15T10:30:00.000Z

Tiramisu means "pick me up" in Italian and if ever a dessert comprising of booze and coffee soaked ladyfingers, layered with mascarpone cream and dusted with cocoa powder could induce a feeling of being "picked up", it would be this one.
Yet another one of those once-popular restaurant dishes from the 70s and 80s, Tiramisu was relegated to "plastic pot sealed with foil lid and placed on the supermarket shelf" status, which happens to be where I first discovered this Italian delight. Although several years past its halcyon restaurant days, the Tiramisu deserves to be given another chance. It is surprisingly simple to make and never fails to please coffee or trifle lovers.
Like that other Italian classic dessert, Zuppa Inglese, Tiramisu is like a hassle-free trifle with its sponge fingers and eggy custard-like sauce. Unlike trifle though, it eschews the fruit element in favour of caffeine rich ingredients. The only thing that you need to prepare in advance is some espresso, the rest of the dish takes no longer than 15 minutes. Of course, the waiting comes with the refrigeration of the Tiramisu and it is crucial, not only to set the raw custard but to improve the flavours, that it sits in the fridge for at least 12 hours.
The traditional recipe might use Zabaglione between the sponge layers but this simpler method is just as delicious. The alcohol combined with the coffee can also be altered to suit what you have available. Coffee liqueur is again traditional, but I used Crème de Cacao (a remnant from the days when I used to make cocktails - Maraschino Liqueur anyone?) instead. You could use dark rum, or hazelnut liqueur, maybe even brandy. One of the characteristics about the Tiramisu is the strong coffee and alcohol flavouring punctuating the soft, billowy cream - not a dessert for children!
TIRAMISU - serves 4-6
Ingredients:
12 Savoiardi Biscuits or Ladyfingers
2 Eggs, separated
250g Mascarpone
3 Dessertspoons Vanilla Sugar to taste
125ml Freshly brewed but cold Espresso Coffee
125ml Coffee Flavoured Liqueur (or alcohol of your choice - not a cream based drink though)
Cocoa Powder for dusting
METHOD:
In a large, clean, grease-free bowl, whisk the egg whites until very stiff.
In another bowl, whisk the mascarpone cheese with the egg yolks and sugar until well combined.
Fold in the egg whites.
Mix together the alcohol and coffee in a shallow dish.
You are now ready to start assembling the Tiramisu.
Spoon a third of the Mascarpone mixture into your dish.
First dipping them one at a time in the coffee/alcohol mixture, turning them quickly so that they don't disintegrate, layer six of the Savoiardi biscuits on top of the cream. Top with another layer of cream, then the remainder of the sponge fingers. Spoon over the final blanket of the creamy sauce, then dust generously with cocoa so that the cream is completely obscured.
Cover gently and refrigerate for at least 12 hours.
To serve, remove from the fridge, uncover and dust with another layer of cocoa and some shaved chocolate if desired.
Enjoy!

More Comfort Food for the Summer

2007-07-12T10:17:00.000Z

The calendar tells me that it’s Summer, but my goosebumps and two layers of clothes are telling me the opposite. This can only mean one thing: the unique British Summertime.

The occasional sunny days, when all the barbeque's are dragged out, dusted off and set alight, meat blackening on top of these pyres, are always generously seasoned with showers, wind, overcast-ness and even hail.
Try as I might to endure the constant flip-flopping of the weather, I have simply written this summer off as a bad job and am looking forward to Autumn instead, when we at least stand some chance of warm weather.
This has reflected itself vividly in my cooking too. Cosy soups and comforting puds have been on the menu in the Erickson household these past few weeks.
I don’t want to completely give into eating steamed puddings just yet though, or cooking full roast dinners so I am trying to find a decent balance. Chowder seems to fulfil that need for something to give me a warm, culinary hug without shouting "Winter!" too loudly at me.
Despite its relatively local etymology (Chowder is a derivation of the French word Chaudiere, which roughly means a “hot pot”, although it could also refer to the word “jowter”, old English for Fishermonger), us closeted Brits don’t really cook Chowder, preferring vegetable, tomato or the Little Black Dress of the soup world, Chicken. However, since meeting my husband, I have discovered the joy of Chowder, just as the New Englanders did, so many years ago, when Breton fishermen would serve up huge, bubbling cauldrons of fish soup, freshly made with the catch of the day. To this day, Chowder is always affiliated with New England despite there being many deviations from the original French recipes, which would have originally resembled a Bouillabaise.
Indeed, such is the widespread popularity of the Chowder that it is noted in Moby Dick and makes an appearance in an episode of the Simpsons. Expensive but inferior tinned versions are available on every supermarket shelf.
The most famous of all Chowders though, is the Clam Chowder, a typical New England version, using their local shellfish catches and almost impossible to replicate if you live in the UK, far away from where Clams tend to inhabit. Fortunately, tinned Clams offer an ethereal taste of the Northeast and can be quite a convincing substitute.
But, for those unfortunate few who don’t like shellfish, you could just use plain old fish, prawns, cod, salmon, haddock, whatever firm fish is local to you. Or, forget the fish altogether and make a vegetarian version using potato and corn. The familiar creamy chowder texture is still vivid and the corn adds a wonderful sweetness to the soup that is offset by green peppers and onions. Some versions even add tomatoes, which is more redolent of the original fish stew served up by those French fisherman all those years ago.
It is dead simple to make; onions, garlic, celery, green pepper, diced potato simmered in olive oil, bacon fat or butter until tender. Some stock, milk, Cannellini Beans and canned Sweetcorn (I used creamed sweetcorn because that was all I had and it was just fine, although you may need to add a little more salt than usual) are then added, plus Dried Thyme and whole Peppercorns for a little bit of heat and the soup is virtually ready. At this point you could add your clams, or fish but it is completely substantial without either. A quick simmer, a readjustment of seasoning and the soup is ready to be served, steaming hot, into deep soup bowls, with crusty, buttered bread.
POTATO AND SWEETCORN CHOWDER serves 4-6
Ingredients:
2 Tablespoons Olive Oil
1 Tablespoon Butter or Bacon Fat (you can fry off a rasher or two
1 Onion, peeled and finely chopped
1 Clove Garlic, peeled and finely chopped
2 Sticks Celery, de-stringed and finely chopped
1 Small Green Pepper, finely chopped
1 Baking Potato, peeled and cut into ½” dice.
1 400g Can Tinned Sweetcorn or Creamed Sweetcorn
1 Tin Cannellini Beans (or tinned bean of your choice, you want a pale, creamy bean though)
Pinch of Dried Thyme or Sprig of Fresh
Seasoning
¾ Pint Stock or Water (I used water and the flavour was not impacted in anyway)
½ Pint Milk
METHOD:
Heat the oil and butter in a heavy bottomed saucepan and sauté the onions, garlic, celery, pepper and potato for about 4 or 5 minutes, or until the vegetables start to look translucent and soft.
Turn the heat down to low, cover and leave to gently sweat down for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally to ensure they don’t stick.
Pour over the stock or water, bring to the boil, turn down to a gently simmer, cover and cook for another 10 minutes or until the potato is cooked.
Add the beans, sweetcorn and milk, including all of their tin liquids, the Thyme and a little seasoning. Bring to the boil once more, turn down and simmer for another couple of minutes, just to allow the flavours to amalgamate.
Taste for seasoning and adjust as necessary.
Add a swirl of cream if necessary and a sprinkling of grated Gruyere or Cheddar to finish.
Serve with thickly buttered crusty bread.
Enjoy!

More Simple Food

2007-07-11T10:30:00.000Z

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!

A Dish Best Served Lukewarm

2007-07-09T10:06:00.000Z

Much like Italian cookery, Greek cuisine is entrenched in history. It is lovingly prepared and enjoyed with such gusto that visitors to Greece cannot help but be entranced by their simple, delicious meals.
In a hot country like Greece, the climate dictates much of the food so there are cooling yogurt drinks, spiked with fresh or dried mint to sooth, fresh salads made with sun-ripened tomatoes, thirst-quenching watermelon and salty feta. Desserts come in the form of rose-water drenched cakes or multi-layered pastries like Baklava. The Greeks love sticky, sweet desserts.
Possibly the most famous Greek dish is Moussaka. Once a mainstay of 1970s restaurants, the dish is rarely seen over here nowadays, except as a ready-meal in your local supermarket freezers, relegated to that regretful footnote in British cuisine known as “out of fashion”, along with Arctic Roll, Lasagne and Melon Balls.
Moussaka (from the Arabic musaqqaa meaning “chilled”) is a many strata-ed dish, with complex flavours running throughout. The meat sauce layer, traditionally Lamb, is heavily seasoned with Allspice, Cinnamon and Honey, yet none of these strong spices are overwhelming. The result is, conversely, deeply savoury and would work as a wonderful ragu with pasta if you didn’t want to go to all the trouble of making the Moussaka.
Other than the apple pie spices, what is unusual about Moussaka is that it should be served, like revenge, lukewarm or even completely chilled (hence the origins of the name). In fact, it makes total sense. All the flavours vie for attention when eaten straight out of the oven, when cool, they start to mingle and meld in the most delightful way – a true meeting of minds, or at least, ingredients.
And what are the other ingredients? Well, for those of you unlucky enough never to have been to Greece (that’s me too!) and/or try Moussaka, it is notable for its additional layers of fried aubergine and slices of boiled potatoes. And then there’s that wonderful, souffle-like cheese sauce topping, the creamy blandness of which ties all the other ingredients together.
Now, you’re correct when you think that this is a slightly labour intensive dish. But, it is well worth the effort and it is certainly best prepared at least the day beforehand, the meat sauce can be made several days ahead. Also, it is versatile. If you don’t like Lamb Mince, use Beef. No Aubergines in the store? Then use Courgettes. At this time of the year everyone knows someone who grows them. You can omit the potato layer if you’re not too keen. You can make a colourful dish by layering potatoes, courgette, aubergine AND the meat sauce, or you can keep it simple. As with Lasagne, you must make this to suit your time-schedule but most importantly, your palate.
MOUSSAKA – serves 6-8
Ingredients:
Meat Sauce
500g Minced Lamb or Beef
3 Tablespoons Olive Oil
1 Large Onion, peeled and finely sliced 2 Cloves Garlic, peeled and finely sliced
450g Tinned Tomatoes and their juice 150ml Red Wine (optional but really helps to deepen the flavour)
1 Tablespoon Dried Oregano
½ Teaspoon Honey
2 Teaspoons Cinnamon
½ Teaspoon Allspice
200ml Beef Stock (I used a stock cube mixed in hot water)
Salt and Pepper
Vegetables:
1 Large Aubergine, topped, tailed and cut into long slices lengthwise
OR
3 Courgettes, topped, tailed and cut into long slices lengthwise
300g New Potatoes, peeled, cut into slices and cooked until almost tender
OR
Use a combination of all three of the above, using only 2 courgettes and 200g Potatoes
Cheese Sauce:
25g Plain Flour
40g Butter
1 Pint Milk
45g Feta Cheese
60g Gruyere Cheese
3 Large Eggs
Salt, Pepper and fresh Nutmeg
Parmesan Cheese for sprinkling on the top.
METHOD:
Make the meat sauce:
Heat the olive oil in a large, deep frying pan. Gently saute the onion until soft, then add the minced lamb or beef. Cook over a high heat until the pinkness has completely left the meat, then pour over the red wine.
Once the red wine has reduced by half, sprinkle over the honey, cinnamon, allspice and oregano and season with salt and pepper.
Pour over the beef stock and tinned tomatoes and leave the sauce to simmer for at least half an hour or until thickened and slightly reduced. Your sauce will be a rich, mahogany colour. Taste for seasoning, does it need more cinnamon? More salt? Remove from the heat and leave to one side.
To prepare the vegetables:Heat about 3 or 4 tablespoons of olive oil in a large frying pan until really hot, then fry off the slices of aubergine or courgette until golden on both sides. Drain on kitchen paper.
To make the Cheese Sauce:
Melt the butter in a saucepan then stir in the flour with a wooden spoon. Cook over high heat, stirring constantly, until the roux turns a pale golden colour.
Whisk in the milk, grate over some nutmeg. Keep whisking until the sauce thickens, turn the heat down and let bubble gently for about 3 or 4 minutes more.
Remove from the heat and whisk in the feta and gruyere cheese until completely melted.
In another bowl, whisk the eggs using an electric hand whisk until they are a pale primrose colour and voluminous. Fold into the cheese sauce.
Season to taste.
To assemble:
Preheat oven to 180c.
Place a layer of potatoes in the bottom of your baking dish, then a layer of meat sauce, then aubergine/courgettes, then some of the white sauce. Repeat, ensuring you end with the white sauce.
Grate some Parmesan over the top and bake, uncovered for about 45 minutes, until the top is puffy and golden.
Remove from the oven and leave to cool completely.
Serve with a crisp salad.Enjoy!

A Lasagne For Summer

2007-07-06T09:55:00.000Z

A few weeks ago, we wrote about that Italian Restaurant/Frozen Meal/Much Maligned Classic, Lasagne. The debate between Paul and I, Bechemal Sauce vs. Ricotta or Cottage Cheese, is always omnipresent whenever one of us makes Lasagne. Some things will never change.
And whilst I had stated that I would never fiddle around with the original recipe, retaining its slow-cooked ragu, I found myself bored in the kitchen last Sunday, wondering to prepare for supper. I wanted Lasagne but it seemed a little pointless spending three hours simmering a meat sauce for just the two of us. I got to thinking. As usual I had a drawer full of vegetables going wrinkly quickly. I had a tomato sauce recipe that was quick and delicious and I had a craving for pasta so I devised a vegetarian lasagne.
I have a work colleague who is proud of her Lasagne. She says it has a “vegetarian layer of spinach”. I question her time and time again on this “vegetarian layer”.
“Don’t you mean it’s a layer of vegetables? Because you can’t serve an otherwise meat-based Lasagne to vegetarian friends, vegetable layer or not.”
But she remains adamant – and proud – of her invention of the vegetarian layer.
And I digress.
My Lasagne truly is vegetarian but the addition of sautéed mushrooms (long known as the vegetarian’s meat) and courgettes (zucchini) would fulfil even the most fervent carnivore. Paul said it reminded him of Manicotti (the famous American dish of pasta tubes stuffed with ricotta and spinach that most Italians have never heard of, despite the Italian sounding moniker) but I thought it was perfect summer alternative to the richer meat Lasagne.
There are no hard and fast rules with this recipe, if you have a favourite tomato sauce recipe, then use that. It is a great dish to showcase seasonal vegetables – thin layers of squash would make this a lovely, warming Autumnal dish, whilst chargrilled peppers or slices of sautéed aubergines are perfect for the summer. You can replace even the Bechemel with Ricotta if you must…
You can also assemble the whole Lasagne (or just the tomato sauce) well in advance before baking. If you are making it the day before, make sure to cover it with tin-foil or clingfilm and refrigerate.
One final handy hint that I recently picked up is to stir the tomato sauce into the Bechemal sauce for a no-fuss assembly of the Lasagne.
VEGETABLE LASAGNE (serves 5-6)
Ingredients:
1 Box Dried Lasagne
Parmesan and Mozzarella or Cheddar for grating on the top
Tomato Sauce:
2 Cans Tinned Tomatoes
1 Onion, peeled and finely chopped
2 Cloves of Garlic, peeled and finely chopped.
Teaspoon Sugar
Teaspoon Vinegar, Malt is fine
Squirt of Tomato Puree (Paste)
Salt and Pepper to Taste
Olive Oil
Some Basil Leaves or Parsley or a pinch of dried Oregano
Bechemel Sauce
25g Butter
25g Flour
1 Pint Milk
Salt, Pepper and a rasp of Nutmeg
“Vegetarian Layer”
1 Courgette, topped, tailed and sliced lengthwise, thinly
150g Mushrooms, cut into slices
30g Butter
Seasoning
METHOD:
To make the tomato sauce:
Soften the onions and garlic in a little warm olive oil in a large saucepan. Add the tinned tomatoes, tomato puree sugar, vinegar and a little seasoning.
Squidge the tomatoes down if they are whole so that they break down into the sauce quite quickly. You can play safe and chop them up in the can first, but I always like to avoid the little squirts of tomato juice that comes shooting out at you when you pop them with a wooden spoon.
Bring the sauce up to the boil, then turn down to a brisk simmer. Leave to cook for about half an hour or until thickened and reduced slightly. Add the herbs and taste for seasoning. Add more salt, sugar, pepper if necessary. You may even need to add another squirt of tomato puree if it’s not tomato-y enough for you.
Leave to cool slightly. This can be made well in advance.
To make the Bechemel Sauce:
Heat the milk gently in a saucepan.
In another saucepan, melt the butter over medium high heat, taking care that it doesn’t burn, and add the flour. You should get a thickish, yellow paste. Pour over the warmed milk and whisk to whilst the sauce comes up to temperature. Add some salt, pepper and nutmeg. Keep whisking until the sauce has thickened to the consistency of thick cream, then turn down the heat and leave to simmer gently for about 5 minutes more, to cook out the flour taste. Remove from the heat.
To sauté the vegetables:
Divide the butter over two saucepans, melt over medium heat and place the courgettes in one, the mushrooms in another, seasoning lightly. Cook the courgettes for no longer than 2 minutes, or until lightly golden. Drain on kitchen paper.
Fry the mushrooms gently until the water they have exuded has evaporated. Remove from the heat.
To assemble:
Mix the tomato sauce into the Bechemel Sauce (optional). Place a thin layer onto your Lasagne dish, then add a layer of the Pasta sheets.
Put another layer of the red and white sauce(s), the thin layer of the courgette, then the pasta. Repeat but with a layer of the mushrooms instead.
Continue until you have used up all your sauce and mushrooms, ensuring that you end with a layer of the white (or mixed) sauce.
Smother with grated Parmesan and Cheddar or Mozzarella. At this point you can now bake the Lasagne in a hot oven (about 200c) for between 30-45 minutes or cover and refrigerate until you are ready to cook.
Once cooked, remove from the oven and leave to stand to set up for about 10 minutes or so. This makes removal from the baking dish much easier.
Serve with a salad and some crusty bread.
Enjoy!

Gazpacho

2007-07-04T10:55:00.000Z

“De gazpacho no hay empacho”
– There is never too much Gazpacho!
Is there a dish recreates summer more eloquently than Gazpacho? Probably not, for this ancient Andalusian soup is made with only the freshest, warm weather ingredients and then served cold, preferably over ice, for a truly refreshing and satisfying summer meal.
Gazpacho is the only cold soup that I have made. There is something about its bold flavours that brings to mind Bloody Mary cocktails, yet, despite being alcohol free, it is far more complex than that. It is simple and quick to prepare but the chilling is essential, the flavours need time to mingle and, like a Moussaka is best at room temperature, so the Gazpacho is best served cold, cold, cold.
The dish, although thought of as being Spanish, originates from the Roman days, many hundreds of years ago, a peasant dish made from just olive oil and stale bread. The word Gazpacho is a derivative of the Latin word caspa, meaning crumbs or fragments and indeed a true Gazpacho is still blended with stale bread which gives a distinctive thick texture.
Much later on in the 15th Century, after the New World crops were introduced from the Americas to Europe, peppers and tomatoes were introduced to the dish and it has changed little since then.
The odd additions of herbs, perhaps Basil or Parsley, a dash of Tabasco here, some Cayenne Pepper there, or perhaps the soup being strained to produce a fine broth are the most common modifications to the soup. There is also a white Gazpacho, Ajo Blanco, which is made with blended almonds, garlic and the ever-traditional bread and olive oil, not to mention restaurants turning the dish into something altogether more expensive and glamorous. I don't use garlic in my version although some do, I find the flavour too distracting from the cleanliness of the other ingredients.
I do add some chilli for a little heat, celery because I love the herbal quality it gives to the dish and sometimes a can of tomatoes if the fresh ones are a little peaky or bland (which they often are over here) and it makes the soup go further. I don’t sieve my soup because I find it more substantial served chunky but feel free to strain if you wish.
But, remembering that this is a traditional peasant dish (which far from being a derogatory term, reflects the inventiveness that comes with frugality), it is a wonderful way to use up tomatoes that are a bit past their use-by date, peppers that are looking shrivelled and bread that not even the dog will touch. The one proviso is that you use the best quality extra virgin olive oil that you have in the kitchen – bad olive oil will flavour the soup in a most unfavourable manner.
So, bearing in mind that old Spanish saying, “There is never too much Gazpacho”, here is the recipe:
GAZPACHO – serves 6
Ingredients:
6 Good Quality Tomatoes, skinned but not seeded, plus extra cut into tiny dish for decoration
1 Green Pepper, cut into rough chunks (or red or yellow or orange)
2 Green Chillis (more if you want extra heat, deseed the chillis if you want less, otherwise, just throw them in whole)
Cup Good Quality Extra Virgin Olive Oil
2 Sticks Celery (optional), cut into quarters
1 Can Tomatoes if your fresh tomatoes are a little wishy-washy
Slice of Stale White Bread
Quarter of a Cucumber, cut into chunks, plus extra cut into tiny dice for decoration
Salt and Pepper
METHOD:
Make a cross in the top of each fresh tomato, place in a large jug and cover with boiling water for a minute or two. The skin will start to peel away from the cross you made and then you should be able to peel them.
Place the peeled tomatoes in a food processor and blitz until they form a chunky puree, about 20 seconds.
Then add all the other ingredients gradually, in large chunks, with the processor running. You might need to add the olive oil halfway through if the ingredients start looking a little too thick. You might also find you want more than a cupful of oil or a little less, depending on what texture you like.
Taste the soup, season (it will take quite a lot of salt), add more chilli if you want more heat, more olive oil, or the can of tomatoes if you feel it needs it. Remember that the flavours will enhance the longer you leave it to chill.
Decant into a large bowl, cover with clingfilm and chill for several hours.
Ladle into large bowls and sprinkle with the chopped cucumber and tomato and a drizzle of olive oil.
Enjoy!

Weekend Baking - Biscotti

2007-07-03T09:43:00.001Z

I suppose it’s fortuitous for me as a writer that food holds many happy reminiscences for me. The Banana Splits of my childhood, my husband converting me to the taste of freshly ground coffee, my Mums impecunious Spaghetti Bolognese and my Grandmother’s Coffee Cake. Since meeting Paul, I also have a whole world of foodie firsts: his Mom’s thanksgiving meals and apple cake, richly covered with Kool-Whip, thick fluffy pancakes and hash browns. This is without making note of Cheetoes, Nila Wafers and Saltines. These road trip essentials are available over here in exclusive delicatessens, along with Krispy Kreem Donuts, priced up to the point where they are no longer a cheap road snack but an unnecessary luxury instead.
Of all the great culinary discoveries made by myself in the US, the Coffee Shop with its endless shiny counters stacked high with glass jars filled with cookies, plates gleaming with fruit tarts and, my most favourite coffee house treat of all, the Biscotti, was awe-inspiring.
In Italian, Biscotti translates as “biscuit twice cooked” (bis-cotto) and no word could sum up the Biscotti more succinctly than that. A stiff sort-of cookie dough is made, flavoured with almost any conceivable (and some inconceivable, no doubt) ingredients, then formed into a Ciabatta loaf shape, baked for about 30 minutes, then it is cut into slices – the familiar Biscotti shape – and baked once again for another 10 minutes on each side. What this double bake produces is a hard, crisp biscuit, perfect for dipping into your morning coffee. The Italians don’t call these hard biscuits Biscotti though. In Italy, Biscotti is a generic term that refers to any biscuit, from Amaretti to Pignoli Cookies. Instead, the twice-baked biscuit, a speciality of the Florence region, is called Cantuccini and supermarkets often carry these imported Italian cookies, often studded with almonds or half dipped in chocolate, which melts as you stir your coffee with them. They are also served as an after-meal treat, to be dipped in Vin Santo or a sweet dessert wine or liquor.
Biscotti or Cantuccini are simple to make, although a little more labour intensive than the usual drop cookies. However, the dough is easy to work with and they are so adaptable, that you will probably find yourself baking them often (in her book, Great Cookies, Carole Walter even has a Passover recipe, using Matzo meal instead of flour). And, despite the initial reservation of tasting a dried out biscuit, they are incredibly moreish, particularly those half dipped in chocolate. They also have the added bonus of lasting quite some time in the biscuit tin.
Such is the popularity and adaptability of this nibbly biscuit that there are at least twenty cookbooks devoted to just the Biscotti, thousands of jars stuffed full of them in cafes throughout the world and most supermarkets even produce their own versions. Not bad going for a dried out hard biscuit.
Perhaps we are in love with the romantic Italian notion of turning something boring into something magical, merely by dipping it into a cup of hot coffee or chilled wine.
Whatever the reason, this alchemical biscuit is a worthy addition to your baking rota and will accommodate whatever ingredients you have available. You can dress them up or down, and they will always make a welcome gift at any time of the year.
Here is a basic ‘starter’ recipe using chocolate shavings, nuts and citrus zest. Using this recipe, you can switch any of the flavourings around, using dried fruits instead of chocolate, brown sugar instead of white, add a dash of vanilla or almond extract, dip them in chocolate or icing. You could use a little cornmeal in the mixture or make a highly spiced Cantuccini with ground cloves, cinnamon, cardamom or ginger. I recently saw Giada de Laurentiis dip her Biscotti in chocolate and then red and green sugar sprinkles for Christmas. You could utilise a similar theme with white and pastel sprinkles for wedding favours or a baby shower.
BISCOTTI WITH CITRUS, CHOCOLATE AND PECANS makes 3 Dozen
adapted from Carole Walters' Great Cookies
Ingredients:
1 ½ Sticks Unsalted Butter (170g), room temperature
Zest of 1-2 Lemons and 1-2 Oranges (depending on how citrussy you want it)
1 Cup Sugar
2 ½ Cups Plain Flour
1 Teaspoon Baking Powder
¼ Teaspoon Bicarbonate of Soda
2 Large Organic Free Range Eggs
1/2 Teaspoon Salt
1 Teaspoon Vanilla Extract
1 Bar (about 120g) Good Quality Dark Chocolate (70% is ideal), shaved, rather than chopped. The chocolate could be replaced with half a cup of dried fruit, raisins, cranberries, cherrys, figs etc.
1 Cup Chopped Nuts of your Choice. I used Pecans, but Almonds, Hazelnuts, Pistachios, Walnuts would be great
METHOD:
Using either a hands free mixer or an electric hand whisk (the mixture does get quite stiff later on), blend together the butter and zests.
Add the sugar and beat for another couple of minutes until pale and fluffy.
Add the vanilla and one egg at a time, beating for about 30 seconds between additions. Take care to scrape down the sides of your mixing bowl regularly.
Sieve the flour, bicarbonate of soda, baking powder and salt into a large bowl. Then introduce this, in three turns, to the batter, mixing well before the next addition.
Finally, fold in the nuts and chocolate.
Cover and chill the bowl in the fridge for at least an hour.
After an hour, line or grease two large baking sheets and preheat the oven to 175c.
Divide the dough into two halves and, using one half at a time, place on a lightly floured board.
Gently mould into the shape of a Ciabatta Loaf (which is to say, a slightly flattened log, about 10” long by 4” wide) and place each log on the baking sheet. Leave about 3 or 4 inches between the logs. They will spread out slightly but not much.
Bake for 25 minutes on the top shelf, or until lightly golden brown.
Remove from the oven, turn the heat to 150c, and leave to cool for five minutes.
Using a dough scraper or meat cleaver, cut the logs into ½” biscotti, placing them cut side up on the second baking sheet.
Bake for another 15 minutes until they feel dry on one side. Turn them over and bake for another 7-10 minutes.
Remove from the oven. They will still feel a little soft at this point. Leave for a couple of minutes until you are able to handle them. Then remove to a cooling rack.
You can then dip them in melted chocolate if you want or just serve them with freshly brewed coffee.
Store in a large jar or biscuit tin.
Enjoy!

A Taste of Childhood

2007-07-02T11:27:00.001Z

Whilst some foods are pertinent to the quirks of our own families, sometimes to the point that other people look at us as if to say “What a bunch of weirdos! Who has mayonnaise with gravy??” other foods are so deeply ingrained within the global culinary awakening of childhood that it is almost as if a worldwide brainwashing has taken place.
What child from the 80s doesn’t remember being driven to the local diner or greasy spoon and fed burgers, milkshakes and a ooey, gooey banana split or a chocolate sundae to finish?
In my case, the burger and fries were just preamble, the necessary main course leading up to the dessert. Of course, I loved every greasy, calorific mouthful, the Thousand Island dressing dripping all over my hands, and the salty, vinegar laced chips, almost too hot to eat. This was all washed down with a soda stream fizzy drink, usually Coca Cola, which I wasn’t allowed at home. Even today, I drink Coke only with junk food (or scotch), the two seemed so intertwined.
And then, once the burger had been consumed and the chips devoured, only then could I choose which whipped cream covered, sugar engorged sweet I could have.
Sometimes it was the Double Layer Chocolate Gateau, always decorated with a rapidly dissolving whorl of cream from a can. Other times, a scoop or two of plain old ice cream. Mostly though I would always go for the Banana Split, depending on who was paying. A chipped glass dish, tinged a faded green through age, filled with sliced bananas, vanilla ice cream – chocolate if you’re eating in a high-class establishment like Wimpy – chocolate sauce, chopped hazelnuts, whipped cream and maybe a cherry. To an eight year old, this is a little bit of heaven in a grubby fast-food booth with oleaginous walls.
I had never thought of replicating this old-fashioned but conversely timeless diner classic at home. When you reach a certain age though, Banana Splits seem hopelessly uncool, a bit like tinned Fruit Salad or Prawn Cocktail. Never is this more pertinent in England, a country full of food snobs. However, times are changing. People are rebelling against this food snobbery and want food like we used to eat. Restaurants no longer cringe at the thought of serving Shepherds Pie (albeit in a twee little dish), and the humble but much maligned Prawn Cocktail has been deconstructed to suit current tastes.
But how could you improve on that childhood classic, the Banana Split? Its appeal lies within its sickly sweet contours, the overabundance of canned whipped cream and cheap ice cream that melts rapidly under the fluorescent lights of cafes.
True, but how many things did we love as children but find it hard to stomach now we are all grown up? I feel bilious at the thought of poking at dead mice now but as a gory 6 year old, I was thrilled when my half feral farm cat, Daisy, deposited them on my bed, a thoughtful gift of love to her mistress. Many ad hoc mouse autopsies took place in my childhood garden.
I can’t watch cartoons much anymore (except perhaps King of the Hill and Wait Til’ Your Father Gets Home), and reruns of Australian Soap Operas leave me cold. As for foods, the idea of Angel Delight or Frozen Chocolate Gateaux or Penny Sweets do not get me salivating. My favourite childhood meal for a while, Steakhouse Grills (100% guaranteed Beef By-Product reformed into the shape a steak!) make me wonder why it is that kids have no taste at all.
But, with a little revamping, the tastes of our childhood can reach a more adult palate. Dorie Greenspan and Pierre Herme, in their wonderful book, Chocolate Desserts, have revived the Banana Split just for grown ups. Rum sozzled raisins replace the famous Maraschino Cherry and rich, dark chocolate ice cream is a fittingly sophisticated tribute to the strawberry or vanilla ice cream of yore. The squirty cream in a can is swapped for thickly whipped dairy cream that doesn’t just evaporate once it hits the plate.
But before you think that this is but a mere shadow of its childhood innocence, the bananas, the chopped nuts and – if you want to replicate our version – a drizzle of hot fudge sauce, still remain. We sautéed our bananas in a little butter and sugar but both agreed this was a step too far – the rawness of bananas is half the charm of the whole dish.
We omitted the alcoholic raisins, simply because we don’t like them that much, and Paul was craving the hot fudge sauce of his childhood so this replaced Dorie’s chocolate sauce. The nuts are entirely optional but the cherry, although missing from our version (due to a store cupboard shortage) is the essential kitsch embellishment.
If you want to recreate this simple but really decadent dessert at home, here's how:

DECADENT BANANA SPLIT serves 2
Ingredients:
2 Firm but ripe bananas, peeled and halved lengthwise
100ml Double Cream, whipped firmly
Tub of excellent quality Dark Chocolate Ice Cream (or if Vanilla if you prefer).
Chopped Nuts of your choice for sprinkling. We used Pecans but Pistachios, Hazelnuts, Almonds would be great too
Maraschino Cherries for decoration
Hot Fudge Sauce (recipe to follow)
METHOD:
Place the sliced bananas in two serving dishes. Scoop out three balls of the ice cream for each dish and place on top of the bananas.

Then, drizzle over some of the hot fudge sauce, pipe (or spoon) whipped cream on top of that, sprinkle with nuts and finish with a cherry.

Enjoy!

Omelette Arnold Bennett

2007-06-29T09:40:00.000Z

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!