Altrincham’s answer to Babette’s feast

March 21, 2012 § Leave a comment

The newly formed Altrincham Film Club chose the classic 1980’s Danish film “Babette’s Feast” for its March screening. The film is a loving adaptation, in almost BBC costume drama style, of the Karen Blixen novella which describes the effect of the arrival of refugee French chef Babette on the lives of the inhabitants of a remote and puritanical and village on the coast of Jutland. The story culminates in the preparation and serving of a stupendous French dinner which changes the lives of those lucky enough to share it.

The description of the meal and accompanying wines in the book is in fact a little sketchy with only these dishes and wines named specifically:

Turtle soup (Amontillado sherry)

Blinis Demidoff (Champagne Veuve Clicquot 1860)

Cailles en Sarcophage – Quails in coffins (Clos Vougeot 1846)

Grapes, peaches, fresh figs

The film necessarily fleshes out the meal with a salad course of chicory, frisée and walnuts, a plate of delicious cheeses, and its crowning glory, an immense glazed savarin liberally dosed with rum and finished in the Fanny Craddock manner with whole glacé fruits and whipped cream.

The Altrincham Film Club Committee decided they couldn’t let the opportunity of a food film go by without serving some film-themed snacks before and during the screening. Volunteers to bring cheese, pineapple, bruschette and blinis and so on soon came forward. Then my friend Gwyneth, baker extraordinaire (have a look at http://www.vintageafternoonteas.co.uk/ to see what I mean), approached me with the idea of collaborating on producing some sweet nothings to complement the savoury nibbles already on offer.

Thus the idea for the Babette’ Feast “bento box” was born, to contain an individual savarin modelled on the one in the film, a pot of Chantilly cream to accompany it and a final tiny pot containing a macedoine of black and white grapes, a passing reference to the immense platter of fruit served in the film. All this would be presented in a crisp white cardboard box with wooden cutlery, a nod to Scandinavian style and all fully disposable and biodegradable.

Here’s one of the completed mini-savarins sitting in its foil case which is happily durable enough to stand up to all that lovely rum-infused syrup:

The box I photographed below doesn’t look quite as pristine as the ones we actually served as I forgot to take a picture until I brought my own box back home again after the film, so it’s had quite a journey dislodging one or two of the carefully placed fruits!

And of course, we didn’t just have a handful of boxes to prepare but in order to cater for the AFC audience we needed a whole fifty of them which just about filled my dining room table:

The whole bento box production exercise took the best part of three days.

On day 1, a savarin recipe was developed and all the necessary ingredients ordered online. Hardest to track down was proper glacé fruit (not just common or garden glacé cherries but plums, figs, apricots, peaches and so on in the French manner) but a lovely deli in Wellington, Somerset http://www.thecheeseandwineshop.co.uk/came up trumps and was able to despatch a shipment in time. The flour, butter and eggs were all organic, the sugar all unrefined and fairtrade, the rum not Bacardi but finest Angostura from Trinidad and the vanilla the best available from Madagascar. This was going to be a baking project truly in the spirit of “Babette’s Feast”.

The next step was developing the right recipe. I began with Julia Child’s baba/savarin recipe (the two doughs are interchangeable, just the shape being different) from “Mastering the Art of French Cooking”. This produced quite a stiff dough, easy to shape:

but the resulting buns were dense with a tight crumb that become a tad slimy when soaked in the syrup. We needed a wetter, stretchier dough that would bake to open-textured puffy perfection and would soak up and retain the syrup.

Over to baking guru Dan Lepard who gives a rum baba recipe in his recently published “Short and Sweet” book. I haven’t bought the book yet so had to rely on a republished version of the recipe given on the website of the Melbourne newspaper “The Age”. This was much better, a very wet dough that was hard to handle but produced a brilliantly light stretchy dough. I wasn’t happy with certain aspects of the recipe though – there was too much salt and too much yeast in it for my taste.

The third and final recipe is a conflation of the best bits of all the recipes I looked through and is the one we ultimately ran with. I give it in full below. Whilst I love the aroma of good rum, I don’t like too strong a taste of raw alcohol in a cake or dessert. In flavouring the savarins with vanilla, golden caster sugar and lemon zest and their syrup with unrefined sugar, citrus peel, more vanilla and cinnamon I’ve tried to incorporate the rum flavours without adding very much rum at all. Each savarin is anointed with just a teaspoon of rum to point up these flavours. Much less wasteful than pouring half a pint of rum into the syrup and then having to throw lots of it away.

Day 2 was devoted to baking the savarins in three double batches. Fermentation was long and slow so each batch took 5 hours start to finish so although the workload wasn’t huge, this was a lengthy task. The dough started with making a “sponge”. a wet dough used to get fermentation going and add flavour to the finished product:

Once the remaining flour, butter and eggs had been added, the completed dough looked like this as it began its first proving proper:

After proving and knocking-back, the very soft dough has to be poked and coaxed into the dinky mini savarin tins:

I picked up this mini savarin tin in Zurich earlier this year and am delighted to have been able to put it through its paces. Large individual kugelhopf/savarin/bundt moulds are beginning to appear in the UK but I haven’t been able to find a similar mini moulds over here yet.

This is what the risen buns looked like just before baking – they increase in size dramatically creating all those lovely air pockets:

And this is the end result after baking:

And of course, every batch requires quality control to make sure taste and texture are just right. Very pleased with the open texture of the dough here:

And finally, we’re on to day 3, the day of the screening itself and the major task of completing the savarins and assembling the bento boxes. The first job was the preparation of the black and white grape macedoine. Black and white grapes were halved and macerated in a light syrup of Sicilian blood orange juice, freshly grated lemon zest and just a little unrefined sugar. These were then left in the fridge for the flavours to mingle.

It was a great relief when Gywneth arrived mid-morning and immediately and calmly took charge of the rum application, glazing and decoration of the savarins while I syruped and dunked and drained. Six man hours later, we’d produced 50 bento boxes arranged in serried ranks across the dining room table and my generously proportioned fridge was filled with 50 mini cartons of grape macedoine and Chantilly cream.

Final thanks must go to my long-suffering husband Tim who barely raised an eyebrow at this 3 day baking marathon and who patiently transported the boxes to the cinema in the boot of our car, and wasn’t even able to stay and watch the film!

The boxes were handed out to the Altrincham Film Club audience right on cue with no spillages – job done – and we even managed to remember bin bags to clear up afterwards. Job done!

Anyone fancy La Grande Bouffe for April’s screening…?

Recipe for individual rum savarins

Makes 24 savarins. This is the smallest quantity of mixture which it is feasible to make in my Kenwood mixer, so if you just want 12 savarins, halve the quantities and mix by hand with a wooden spoon and dough scraper.

Ingredients

For the savarins

250 ml milk
12g fast action dried yeast
450g strong plain flour – use 150g for the initial sponge and add 300g to complete the dough
4g vanilla powder
25g golden caster sugar
5g salt
150g softened unsalted butter
4 medium eggs
grated zest of a lemon (scant – the flavour of the lemon is quite strong so don’t be too thorough with the grating)

For the syrup

500g demerara sugar
500g granulated white sugar
1.1 litre water
2 vanilla pods
6 strips lemon peel and 6 strips orange peel pared without pith using a vegetable peeler
juice of a lemon

To serve

1 teaspoon dark rum per savarin (I like Angostura)
Apricot glaze
Selection of glacé fruit (optional)
Chantilly cream (I like a mixture of cream and fromage frais for lightness).

Begin by weighing your mixing bowl so that you can accurately divide the completed dough by weight later on in the recipe. Note the weight down. My Kenwood bowl weighs 1,029g for future reference.

The recipe proper begins by making an initial wet dough, the sponge. Put 150g of the flour, the milk and yeast in the bowl of a stand mixer, whisk together by hand using a balloon whisk until thoroughly combined and scrape down the sides of the bowl using a dough scraper. Leave the mixture at room temperature until it starts to bubble up. This might take 45 minutes or so, maybe longer.

While the sponge begins to ferment, break the eggs into a small bowl; mash the butter using a fork to make sure its very soft and malleable; sift together the flour, salt, sugar and vanilla powder and stir into it the grated lemon zest.

Now complete the dough. Add the flour mixture alternately with the eggs to the bowl in three or four batches. Mix the dough after each addition using the dough hook on a low to medium speed. Scrape the sides of the bowl using a plastic scraper frequently while you do this. Once all the flour and eggs are incorporated, turn the speed up to medium and let the dough hook do its work for 2 minutes.

Next, incorporate the softened butter into the mixture. Make sure the butter is really soft before attempting this. Add a spoonful or so of butter to the bowl and mix at a low speed until incorporated. Keep going until all the butter is added, scraping the butter plate clean with your dough scraper to make sure every last bit ends up in the dough and not on your dishes. Turn the speed up to medium and work the dough for 2 minutes. The resultant dough will not resemble bread dough but will be very soft and stretchy like an elastic cake mix. This is absolutely fine, do not under any circumstances be tempted to add more flour.

If, like me, you have only one tray of mini savarin tins, you will need to retard the proving of one half of the dough. Weigh your mixing bowl, subtract the weight of the bowl which you noted down previously and remove half the dough to a separate bowl. Scrape it into a neatish mound, cover with a plate or cling film and refrigerate.

Do the same with your original bowl, but leave this one out at room temperature to prove. Leave it until the dough has begun to swell visibly and if you poke it you can see lots of spongy bubbles in the mix. It won’t necessarily have doubled in size.

While the dough proves, make the syrup. Put all the syrup ingredients into a large saucepan and bring to the boil. Boil the syrup vigorously for 3 minutes then switch off and leave all the flavours to infuse.

One the dough has proved, knock it back by beating it vigorously with a wooden spoon for 10 to 20 seconds. Now for the fiddly bit which is filling the savarin moulds. Make sure your moulds are well greased. I like to use Dr Oetker baking spray to do this quickly and conveniently.

Half fill each individual mould using about a tablespoon of mixture. Using a teaspoon and/or your fingers, gently tease the very soft dough into the mould and around the central metal spindle. Make sure the quantity of dough in each mould is approximately equal. This is very fiddly.

Cove the savarin tins with a big upturned roasting tin or similar and leave to prove a second time until the dough has risen to fill the moulds completely and puff up a bit more. This takes about an hour, maybe less. Make sure you catch the dough on the up rather than leaving it too long in which case it will collapse.

Put the tray of savarins into the centre of an oven preheated to 190 degrees C (fan). Chuck a small coffeecup of water onto the oven base to create steam and shut the door quickly. After exactly 10 minutes, turn the temperature down to 170 degrees C, rotate the tray of buns so they bake evenly, and bake for a further 10 minutes. They should have a good golden brown colour and be just shrinking away from the edges of the tin. Remove from the oven and turn out onto a wire rack to cool.

Once the savarins have cooled to a warm temperature, they are ready for dunking in the syrup. Drop them into the pan of warm syrup and gently push them under. Leave them in the syrup for about 7 minutes to absorb all that lovely sugar, basting frequently. Remove from the syrup bath, invert them and leave them to drain for about 15 minutes on a rack set over a roasting tin to drain. Try and do the dunking with the savarins facing down and the draining with them facing up to ensure even syrup distribution.

This is a long recipe, but we’re nearly there now. All that’s left to do is to drizzle a teaspoon of rum carefully over each savarin, brush with apricot glaze and if you like, decorate with diamonds of glacé fruit. Serve with a dollop of softly whipped Chantilly cream.

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THE FULL MONTY: breakfast from Bolivia

March 16, 2012 § Leave a comment

The latest in our Breakfasts of the World Project series.

Unusually this time our breakfast comes from a country that one of us (my husband Tim) has actually visited. This was a climbing trip to the Andes hooking up with various members of the Oxford University Mountaineering Club. Three of the team are pictured below, from L to R Simon Beaufoy, Mike,and Doré. Simon has gone on to become well known for his screenplays so I thought it might be fun to try and shoehorn into this post the titles of all Simon’s screenplay titles. I’ll stick them in capitals so you’ll know why this post might sound a little stilted. I hope the guys don’t BURN-UP taking in all that high altitude sunshine and it looks as if Doré at least found time for a BLOW DRY.

Husband Tim, not pictured AMONG GIANTS above, is in this photo, looking rather younger than he is now, a bit of a SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE with the designer sunglasses and “I’ve not shaved for 127 HOURS” designer stubble.

Here’s one of the team again (maybe Alex whom I’ve not yet mentioned?), not SALMON FISHING IN THE YEMEN but using his RUNNING TIME to stride purposefully towards a herd of a llamas in a high Andean glaciated valley. The objective was the ascent of Ancohuma, at 6,427m Bolivia’s third highest peak located in the Cordillera Real range of the Bolivian Andes.

Tim’s recollections of what they ate for breakfast during the expedition were hardly clear (more 10×10 than 20×20). He muttered vaguely about living dangerously by carrying fresh eggs in his backpack and the joys of homemade chapatis at base camp. So it was over to me to research a traditional Bolivian breakfast. Two dishes took my fancy, the first, Api Morada, something halfway between a drink and a porridge made with purple corn flour:

and the second, Bolivia’s answer to the Cornish pasty, the juicy beef-filled salteña, its YELLOW colour coming from an egg and paprika glaze. Truthfully, the one in the bottom right corner caught in the oven just a tad so its colour might best be described as THE DARKEST LIGHT.

The Api Morada turned out like a Spanish hot chocolate, thick, spiced and velvety with a curious grapey flavour no doubt attributable to the naturally occurring anthocyanins which give the corn its vivid purple colour.

It’s pretty straightforward to make, the only hard part being the sourcing of the purple corn flour. Fortunately, small supplier “Detox Your World” trading on Amazon came up trumps:

The salteñas are more often eaten as a mid-morning snack with coffee rather then being a true breakfast dish but were too good to miss out. The filling in the recipe I’ve chosen is minced beef livened up with peas, spices, raisins, olives and chopped hardboiled egg. The masterstroke is the thickening of the meat juices with a judicious amount of gelatine. This means you can spoon a generous heap of cold set filling into the pastry and end up with plenty of lovely gravy when the pasties are baked – one of the features setting a salteña apart from any other South American empanada is the juices running down your arm as you bite into it.

The other distinctive feature of the salteña is the braided seam (repulgue in Spanish) which looks very much like a Cornish pasty crimp. By rights, this should run across the top of the pasty, but as a beginner, I went for a slightly easier side seam. This was my first attempt at braiding the repulgue achieved following the instructions I found here. It’s trickier than it looks and I’ve a way to go before I can emulate the flying fingers of a Bolivian cook. The seams did the trick though and didn’t burst during baking.

The pastry for this recipe breaks all the rules (keep everything cool, don’t overwork etc) as after rubbing the butter into the flour, the pastry is mixed with practically boiling water straight from the kettle and is then given a thorough knead for 3 minutes or more. The end result is a structural pastry that contains the juicy filling but is nevertheless crisp and delicious. Much better than a true shortcrust would be and I’m going to be using it again for pasties.

A breakfast to ensure that EVERYONE’S HAPPY.

I managed to shoehorn in a whopping twelve of Simon Beaufoy’s screenplays but these three defeated me: “Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day”, “Yasmin” and “This is Not a Love Song”. Frankly these would challenge anybody and his two listed projects in development “Sharp Teeth” and “Catching Fire” would have been a doddle to incorporate. Must try harder… anyway, here are the all-important recipes:

Recipe for Salteñas

Adapted from a recipe contributed by “happymommyx4” which I found on Allrecipes.com.

I’ve adjusted the quantity of filling as I found the original recipe gave too much filling for the pastry. I’ve converted all the US measurements into European ones, simplified a couple of steps and have tinkered with the seasoning to up the flavour as my first attempt was a little bland for my taste.

Makes 8 good-sized pasties

Ingredients

For the filling

2 sheets leaf gelatine (approx 3g)
1 tablespoon light olive oil
1 small onion, chopped
250g good quality beef mince
2 medium waxy potatoes, boiled in their skins,cooled,peeled and coarsely grated
150g frozen peas, defrosted
1 tablespoon chopped parsley
2 teaspoons sugar
2 teaspoons paprika
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
tabasco to taste (optional)
150ml cold water
3 large hardboiled eggs, shelled and chopped
50g stoned black olives, sliced
50g raisins plumped-up in hot water and left to soak for half an hour, drained

For the pastry

400g plain flour
1 tablespoon caster sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
110g butter, cubed
150ml hot water (a little more may be necessary to obtain a workable pastry)
beaten egg whisked with a teaspoon each of paprika and salt to seal and glaze

Begin by making the filling.

Set the sheets of gelatine in cold water.

Heat the olive oil in a large frying or sauté pan over medium heat. Add the onion and cook until translucent but not coloured, about 5 minutes. Turn up the heat and add the minced beef and cook for a further 10 minutes reducing the heat if necessary. Spoon off any excess fat.

Stir in the grated potatoes, peas, parsley, sugar, seasoning and water, stir together and simmer for a minute or so. Remove from the heat. Push the filling to one side of the pan leaving a pool of free liquid. Add the soaked gelatine sheets to this liquid and stir until dissolved. Stir everything together and set aside to cool completely. Once cool, mix in the olives, raisins and chopped hard-boiled egg.

Next make the pastry. Combine the flour, sugar and salt in a large bowl and stir well. Rub in the cubed butter with your fingertips until the mixture resembles breadcrumbs. So far, so normal. Now for the unconventional bit. Slowly add the hot water, mixing with a knife. You may need a little more water than the 150ml suggested. On a lightly floured surface knead the pastry for about 3 minutes until smooth. Divide the pastry into eight balls, either by eye or by weight if you want them all to be evenly sized. Cover the pastry balls with cling film and keep them warm while you work with the first pastry ball.

Preheat the oven to 220 degrees C.

On a lightly floured board, roll the pastry ball into a circle approximately 1/8 inch thick. Don’t make the pastry too thin as it will allow the filling to break through while it bakes. Brush egg wash carefully around the rim of the pastry circle. Place approximately 2 tablespoons of the meat filling on one half of the pastry circle and carefully fold over the free half of the pastry and press gently to seal. Crimp the pressed border either by pressing the tines of a fork around the edge or, more authentically, by braiding the edge scallop-fashion to form The Repulgue as it’s known in Spanish.

Place the salteña on a baking sheet lined with parchment.

Continue with the remaining pieces of pastry until you have 8 salteñas. Glaze with the egg wash and bake in an oven preheated to 220 degrees C for 15-20 minutes or until golden brown.

Enjoy warm or cold.

Recipe for Api Morado – purple corn drink

Adapted from a recipe from http://www.boliviabella.com

Serves 6

Ingredients

100g pack of purple corn flour
720 ml cold water for soaking
additional 1 litre water to complete the drink
6 tablespoons sugar or more to taste
1 stick cinnamon
2 whole cloves
2 strips peel from an orange removed using a vegetable peeler
a little chopped pineapple (fresh or canned) and additional orange zest to serve

Soak the purple corn flour in 720ml cold water for at least 2 hours, or oevrnight if you’re preparing it for breakfast.

While the corn flour soaks, bring the additional litre of water to the boil in a medium saucepan, throw in the cinnamon, cloves and orange peel, remove from the heat, cover and leave to infuse.

When you are ready to complete the drink, add the soaked corn flour and its soaking liquid to the litre of flavoured water along with the sugar and bring to the boil stirring constantly with a wooden spoon. Taste and add more sugar if you like.

To serve, ladle into drinking bowls and top with the chopped pineapple and a little orange zest.

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