Comforting casseroles part 1: pork

January 9, 2010 § 2 Comments

I was vaguely thinking about preparing some Indian vegetarian food in the new year – cleansing, soothing and lightly spiced, but the arrival of snow has put paid to that idea and I find I am craving casseroles – something warming simmering away on the hob to keep out the winter chill.

Here are two of my favourite pork recipes. One is a modified version of a Delia Cheat recipe, Spanish influenced and incredibly easy to throw together.  The second comes from one of my favourite Italian cookery writers, Marcella Hazan, and is also quick and simple to put together. With its combination of juniper, bay and dried wild mushrooms, the pork becomes something special acquiring a gamey flavour a little like wild boar.

Both are just the ticket after returning from an outing on skis along the A56 main Manchester Road!

Here’s the mise en place for the Spanish pork stew with potatoes and chorizo – this is for a double quantity – half to serve now and half to go in the freezer.

Here’s the assembled dish before cooking:

And here is the end result!

I served the stew with some lightly steamed spinach and a chunk of home-made bread.  It is a one-pot dish complete with potatoes and vegetables but I do think it needs something green to go with it, be that salad or your favourite vegetable.


Recipe for Spanish pork stew with potatoes, beans and chorizo

Serves 4.  Adapted from recipe found on http://www.deliaonline.com.  My changes are to use ordinary canned tomatoes rather than the specified tomato frito and to use a mixture of cooked butterbeans and potatoes rather than just potatoes.  Also, I couldn’t find pork shoulder so I used pork fillet instead.  This is not an ideal cut for a casserole because it contains very little fat and doesn’t need long cooking to make it tender.  Accordingly, I reduced the cooking time to 45 minutes rather than the specified 1 and a half hours.

Ingredients

1lb (450g) piece trimmed shoulder of pork cut into 1 inch (2.5cm) chunks.
8 oz (225g) small salad potatoes, halved or quartered if necessary to make bite-sized chunks.  A variety such as Charlotte or Nicola is good – floury potatoes are not suitable for this recipe
1 standard tin or half a large jar of cooked, drained and rinsed butterbeans
4 oz (110g) chorizo sausage peeled if necessary and cut into bite sized chunks – either the cooked or raw kind is OK providing it’s a whole sausage – the ready sliced kind is not suitable for this recipe
1  350g jar roasted peppers on oil, drained but left whole (reserve the oil to add to the pot)
1 fat clove garlic, peeled and thinly sliced
1 large red onion, peeled and sliced (a normal onion is OK if you don’t have a red one)
6 sprigs fresh thyme (or 2 teaspoons dried thyme)
1 tablespoon olive oil (use the oil reserved from the jar of peppers if you like)
1/4 teaspoon saffron strands, crumbled into the pot between your fingertips
2 tablespoons white wine vinegar
5 fl oz dry white wine (I like to use dry Vermouth for cooking as I find it less acidic and with an aromatic herby background flavour which works well with food.  I like Noilly Prat or an American vermouth from Andrew Quady called Vya)
1 standard-sized can plum tomatoes, roughly chopped (to save time and washing up, I do this by opening the can and snipping the contents with pair of kitchen scissors)
1 oz (25g) pitted black olives, cut in half (you can use green if you prefer, in fact the anchovy or pimento stuffed kind might work pretty well in this recipe)
salt and freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 140 degrees C (275 degrees F or gas mark 1). Put all the ingredients into a  lidded, ovenproof casserole dish.  Give everything a good stir, then put the casserole on the hob and bring the contents up to simmering point.  Then transfer the casserole to the preheated oven for one and a half hours.  That’s it!  No browning etc – it practically cooks itself.

Recipe for braised pork with wild mushrooms and juniper berries -stufatino di maiale alla boscaiola

This recipe comes from Marcella Hazan’s Second Classic Italian Cookbook.  The pork becomes something really special given this treatment and I’ve served this dish at more than one dinner party as it is a good-natured main course that can be prepared in advance needing no last minute attention from the cook.  The hand of pork is the front leg equivalent to the back leg ham joint and thus lies just below the shoulder.  I’ve made this dish successfully with other cuts – leg and even fillet on occasion but you do need to be careful not to overcook leaner, more tender cuts.  Marcella Hazan suggests serving the pork with mounds of steaming polenta and braised leeks or fried broccoli florets.  I’ve noticed that a lot of people don’t like polenta – if you’re one of them, then try serving it with mash instead – an olive oil or parmesan flavoured mash would be good.

Serves 4

Ingredients

25-30g (3/4-1 oz) dried wild porcini mushrooms
1/2 small onion, chopped fine
350 ml (2/3 pint) water
6 tablespoons olive oil
680g (1 and 1/2 lb) boned hand of pork, cut into pieces about 2.5cm (1 inch) thick and 5cm (2 inches) square
8 tablespoons dry white wine (or vermouth such as Noilly Prat or Vya – see comments in preceding recipe)
2 tablespoons good wine vinegar (I use balsamic which gives a lovely dark colour to the sauce)
3 flat preserved anchovy fillets, chopped (these melt into the sauce imparting a savoury flavour)
1/4 teaspoon dried marjoram
2 dried bayleaves, crumbled (or chopped fresh ones)
20 juniper berries, lightly crushed in a pestle and mortar – aim for bruising rather than complete destruction
salt and freshly ground black pepper

Soak the mushrooms for at least 30 minutes in a small bowl with 350 ml (2/3 pint) lukewarm water.  When they have finished soaking, carefully lift out the mushrooms without disturbing the water.  Rinse them in several changes of cold water to rid them of any grit still clinging to them. Chop them into not too fine pieces, and set aside. Filter the water in which they have soaked through a fine wire strainer lined with kitchen paper and reserve.

Choose a sauté pan or flameproof casserole that can later contain all the meat in no more than two layers, put in the onion and oil, and cook over medium heat. When the onion becomes translucent, put in the pork. Turn the heat up to medium high and brown the meat all over. Put in the wine and the vinegar, raise the heat a little, and let them bubble away for a minute or two.

Put in the chopped mushrooms, their strained water, the chopped anchovies, the marjoram, the bayleaves and the crushed juniper berries. Stir all the contents of the pan, and turn the heat down to low. Put in two or three generous pinches of salt, a liberal grinding of pepper, stir again, and cover the pan tightly.

Cook at a very gentle simmer for 1 and 1/2 to 2 hours, or until the meat is tender when pricked with a fork. When the meat is done, if the juices in the pan are thin and runny, uncover, and turn up the heat  to medium high. Reduce the juices until the fat separates out from them and skim off any excess fat.  The pork is now ready to serve.

Do you have any good pork casserole recipes you’d care to share with me?  I would love to discover some new ones.

‘Twas the night before Christmas

December 25, 2009 § 3 Comments

Which means it’s time to bake mince pies and finish decorating the Christmas cake.

With a bit of arm twisting, making mince pies becomes a family affair.    It’s certainly more fun with three helpers in the kitchen and don’t let anyone tell you children don’t like mince pies. You can watch us by following the link below:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9a0uywaI6Hs

I always plan to have my Christmas cake finished by mid December, but it ends up inevitably a last minute job on Christmas Eve.  To be fair, the marzipan went on a couple of days ago.  I give below my recipes for apricot glaze, marzipan and royal icing.  I used to buy both marzipan and roll-out icing as they do give a perfectly smooth surface but the taste (I make a point of adding no flavouring whether almond or vanilla to the marzipan to let the taste of the almonds speak for itself) and texture of home-made are far superior even if the decorated cake looks a little home-spun.

I make the marzipan then divide it into two.  Half is for the top of the cake and the other half for the sides. (In fact accurately and greedily because we have two cakes, I make one and a half times the marzipan recipe and divide it into three as one cake is fully decorated whereas just the top but not the sides of the second cake are decorated.  I begin with the top of the cake, coating it with apricot glaze (not the sides yet as otherwise you will get sticky fingers when you pick the cake up).  I roll out a piece of marzipan to a rough circle shape approximately the same size as the cake and invert the cake onto it.  I then trim the edges neatly whilst the cake is still upside down.  Keep the trimmings to mould into marzipan fruit if you’re feeling creative or to stuff Medjool dates with if you’re not.

Next, I turn the cake over and place it in final position on its board.  I then prepare a template out of greaseproof paper, a strip to go round the outside of the cake.  I cut the strip in half as the cake sides will be covered in two pieces of marzipan.  I roll out the second piece of marzipan to a rough rectangle the same shape as my template pieces stacked on top of each other and cut 2 pieces of marzipan using the template as a guide.

Now it’s time to coat the sides of the cake with apricot glaze.  Once this is done, I stick the two side pieces neatly to the cake, trimming and smoothing the seams. I then use my (clean) hands to pat and smooth the marzipan over the cake.  This is what the end result looks like.  Good enough for a wedding cake rather than the rough snow I plan to plaster over it.  Also pictured are my last minute decorations – the sugar pearls I picked up in Paris earlier in the year and some white chocolate snowmen, reflecting the snowy weather conditions outside – it’s all set to be the first White Christmas in ages.

I made the royal icing following my usual recipe.  This is what the starting sugar and egg white mixture looks like before whisking.  The recipe advises that you should add icing sugar to the egg whites “until the mixture falls thickly from a spoon”.

And here is the same icing after 10 minutes’ whisking.  It now holds its shape and forms little peaks.  My long serving Kenwood mixer makes light work of this job.  I think you do need electrical assistance here, whether a hand-held whisk or free standing mixer with whisk attachment.  The icing dries to a deliciously powdery and crisp texture thanks to the air it contains.  Don’t forget the teaspoon of glycerine to avoid the icing setting to a tooth-breaking plaster consistency.

Here’s the finished cake taking pride of place on the Christmas dining table with the white chocolate snowmen gazing out onto the snowy scene outside.

Time to get on with the Christmas dinner preparations now and finally enjoy a little time off.  I’ve concentrated on Christmas baking on the blog this year so you’ll just have to imagine the goose roasted to mahogany crispness appearing out of our oven on Christmas day…

Merry Christmas!

Recipe for apricot glaze

This recipe (which is hardly long enough to deserve the name!) is my own.  It makes enough to cover an eight inch cake, top and sides with some leftover.  Spread what’s leftover on some toasted panettone for a Christmas breakfast or mid-morning treat.

Ingredients

Half standard jar of apricot jam (look for conserve or extra jam with a high fruit content)
2 tablespoons apricot brandy (or your favourite spirit)
2 teaspoons lemon juice

Melt the apricot jam and apricot brandy together in a small saucepan.  Add the lemon juice and stir well.  Rub the mixture through a sieve using a wooden spoon, pressing hard so that as much fruit pulp as possible goes through.

Reheat in a small saucepan boiling until the right consistency is achieved if the cooled glaze looks too runny.

Recipe for cooked marzipan

This comes from Leith’s Cookery Bible, and as the book says, it gives a softer, easier to handle paste than the more usual uncooked marzipan.  A hand held electric whisk is I think essential before you embark on this recipe.  I have removed the suggested almond and vanilla extracts from the list of ingredients in the original recipe as I like the natural taste of the almonds themselves to shine through unadorned.

I have found that the texture of the finished paste is variable.  Sometimes it comes out just right, sometimes a little too soft for rolling.  Presumably this is because of variations in the size of the eggs and the age of the ground almonds.  If this happens, simply add more ground almonds, caster sugar and sifted icing sugar in a 50:25:25 ratio (as per recipe) until the paste is the right texture for rolling out.

This quantity of paste is just enough to cover an 8 inch cake, top and sides.

Ingredients

2 medium eggs
170g/6oz caster sugar (I use the golden variety)
170g/6oz icing sugar, sifted
(if you find, as I did, that there is nothing except granulated sugar in your cupboard and the shops are closed, fear not! I ground the sugar into a coarse powder in my electric liquidiser and used this rather than a mixture of caster and icing sugar.  The end result was good – perhaps even better than using different sugars)
340g/12 oz ground almonds
1 teaspoon lemon juice

Beat the eggs lightly in a heatproof bowl.  Sift the sugars together and mix with the eggs.  Stand the bowl in a saucepan of simmering water and whisk until light and creamy or until the mixture just leaves a trail when the whisk is lifted.  Remove from the heat and whisk until the bowl is cold.

Add the ground almonds and lemon juice.  Check consistency and adjust if necessary as described above.  Lightly dust a board or scrupulously clean work surface with sifted icing sugar.  Carefully need the paste until just smooth.  Do not overwork as the oils will be drawn out resulting in a greasy paste.  Wrap in cling film and keep at a cool room temperature until you a ready to use.

Recipe for royal icing

This recipe comes, like the fruit cake it covers, from Delia Smith’s “Complete Cookery Course”.  The addition of  a little lemon juice which cuts the sweetness of the icing ever so slightly is my own.  I wouldn’t attempt this without an electric mixer of some kind.  Don’t be tempted to add more glycerine than suggested as otherwise your icing may not set.

Ingredients

3 egg whites
1 teaspoon lemon juice
Approximately 1 lb 2 oz  (500g) icing sugar, sifted
1 teaspoon glycerine

Place the egg whites in a perfectly clean grease-free bowl.  Stir in the icing sugar, a spoonful at a time, until the icing falls thickly from the spoon (see picture above).  You will probably not use all the icing sugar you have sifted – just spoon it carefully back into its box.

At that point, stop adding any more sugar and whisk with an electric mixer for 10 minutes or until the icing stands up in peaks.  Then stir in the glycerine.  Spooned into a jar, the icing will keep happily in the fridge for several days.

Exotic fruits in winter: medlars and kumquats

December 24, 2009 § Leave a comment

The first proper frost arrived earlier this month which meant it was finally time to gather the first tiny crop of medlars from the tree we planted the summer before last.   Jane Grigson writes about the medlar in her “Fruit Book” as follows.  “The medlar makes a charming tree in the garden.  It grows and droops over to make a sheltered house for children to play in.  In spring, the flowers are white spreading cups. In autumn the leaves turn a deep yet brilliant red, and fall to show the greenish brown medlars displaying their ancient name.  Pick them when they begin to turn soft and darker brown, and do not despise the windfalls.  The best can be eaten as they are.  Turn the others into medlar jelly.”  She is quite right – the medlar has so far proved to be an excellent small tree though not yet large enough to droop into the sheltered house for children she refers to.

Amusingly, the ancient descriptive English name for the medlar is openarse (similarly cul de chien in French)  You will understand why we politely refer to it as the medlar now (nèfle in French).

Here are my medlars, silhouetted against a palest blue wintry sky.

As the crop was so tiny and as I’ve never eaten them before, I decided the only thing to do was to eat the medlars, now yieldingly soft (the proper term is bletted) au naturel with a teaspoon.  I arranged them artfully on a plate with some other seasonal items to form a cut-down version of the 13 desserts of Provence (for an explanation see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thirteen_desserts)

I took my first mouthful rather nervously but needn’t have worried as they tasted rather good – like stewed apple with a fudgy texture and pleasant acidity.  A small glass of tawny port and a few walnuts were the perfect accompaniment.  The 5 or so large seeds each fruit contains were unexpected but easily dealt with.

Other ideas for medlars are the jelly recipe which Jane Grigson gives and stewed medlars/compote of medlars which is the only suggestion given in Larousse Gastronomique.

I lazily popped one of the kumquats on the above platter into my mouth expecting an aromatic little sweetmeat.  I nearly spat the thing out.  Aromatic it certainly was but sour and bitter too in equal measure.  Referring back to my trusty Jane Grigson Fruit Book I discovered that she recommends coating them in fondant to make a tart, sweet and crisp petit four. She also gives a recipe for pickled kumquats with orange slices which I though might go well with the wild duck I was planning to roast for Sunday dinner.  Here are the duck (plus two brace of partridge) which my hunter gatherer husband Tim brought back from  a day’s shooting at Carlton Towers in Yorkshire in the autumn.  He cleaned and plucked them too and they have been waiting in my freezer for their moment to shine ever since.

I made the pickle and we ate it the same day with the duck notwithstanding that it is meant to mature for at least a month before you eat it.  The recipe is given below.

Unsurprisingly, the pickle was rather sharp!  The flavour of the kumquats was definitely right with the wild duck but it was too sweet and sharp in this pickle.  The pickle would however be very good with Christmas ham.

If anyone has any kumquat or medlar recipes I would love to hear them.

As a final postscript, peeking into my Christmas stocking I see that my sister-in-law Angela who lives in Bristol has given me, quite by coincidence, a jar of stewed medlars. I would guess that these were sourced from her local farmer’s market – I’m looking forward to trying them.

Recipe for pickled kumquats with orange slices

From Jane Grigson’s Fruit Book

My own suggestion is that fragrant clementine slices can be substituted for orange slices very successfully.

For each 250g (8oz) kumquats, provide one large orange (or 3 small clementines) which has been well scrubbed.  The kumquats only need rinsing.

Slice away and discard the peel ends of the orange, then cut the rest into slices and put them in a wide pan with the kumquats and enough water to cover generously.  Bring to simmering point, and leave until the orange slices are tender.  If the kumquats show signs of over-cooking and collapse, remove them.

Meanwhile dissolve 300g (10 oz) sugar in 250 ml (8 fl oz) wine vinegar.  Add a 5 cm (2 inch) cinnamon stick, 8 whole cloves and 2 blades of mace.  Once the liquid is clear and reaches boiling point, stop stirring.

Drain the cooking liquor from the oranges and kumquats into a bowl.  Pour the syrup onto them, adding enough cooking liquor to cover the fruit.  Simmer until the orange slices look transparent and slightly candied, adding extra cooking liquor as required.

Arrange the fruit in a wide glass jar, rinsed and dried upside down in a low oven.  Cut the slices in two, three, four if you like.  Pour on the boiling vinegar syrup, making sure that the fruit is covered.  Fasten the lid tightly and leave in a cool dark place for at least a month to mature.

Pre Christmas literary lunch

December 9, 2009 § Leave a comment

There are 7 of us in the book group to which I’ve belonged for a few years now.  We meet every month to discuss our chosen book but in December we put the books aside and just get together for a meal and conversation.  Following on from last year’s very successful cheese fondue at Gwyneth’s I offered to host lunch on a Friday in early December.

December is a busy time.  At work everyone wants the job done before Christmas.  At school there are fairs to be organised and costumes to be prepared for christmas plays and concerts.  At home there are cards, presents and food to be taken care of as well as all the usual routines.  Inevitably the washing machine or fridge will pack up in December (as mine just has) and to round things off nicely, the workmen who’ve been promising to turn up all year will finally make an appearance just when they’re no longer wanted.  I decided that what we all needed was a Superfoods Lunch.  The ideas was to boost our energy levels and immune systems before the rigours of Christmas preparations.  And of course the food had to taste good and look inviting.

There seems to be no standard definition of what a Superfood is.  This BBC article is a helpful and quick summary of the status of superfoods  – really a marketing tag more than anything.  http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/food_matters/superfoods.shtml.  Nevertheless, running through the lists of superfoods that various celebrity nutrionists have put together (take you pick from what’s available on the web), I soon had inspiration for a lunch.  We would have a spicy butternut squash soup to start, packed with sage, chilli and garlic for extra flavour. Next, there would be two salads, one based on quinoa and roast vegetables (beetroot and red onion as well as yet more squash) together with cranberries and seeds, the other a more green leafy one featuring watercress and spinach, avocado, pistachio nuts and pomegranate seeds.  I managed to find a red quinoa for the roast vegetable salad which both looked more appetising than the regular white kind and retained a bit more bite.

I neither followed nor wrote down a proper recipe for the salads, it was more a question of tasting and adding as I went along but resisting the urge to throw in too many ingredients.  For the quinoa salad, I cooked the red quinoa according the packet instructions and dressed it with olive oil, balsamic vinegar and lemon juice while it was still warm.  I then stirred in chopped parsley and chives, lightly cooked cranberries, and salt and pepper.  I tipped the dressed quinoa into a salad bowl lined with crisp red radicchio leaves then topped the salad with chunks of roast beetroot, squash and red onion.  I then blobbed on pieces of mild goats cheese and sprinkled everything with linseeds and roast sesame and sunflower seeds.  Finally I snipped some extra chives over for colour.

The other salad was an assembly of different salad leaves and chopped avocado in a lemony vinaigrette with pomegranate seeds and pistachios sprinkled over the top.

My guests brought either bread for the soup (special mention to Gwyneth’s tomato bread fresh baked that morning) or something for pudding.  Alison made a stunning dish of apple pancakes from windfalls in her garden (thanks for the extras Alison – I’ve used them variously in soup, as and addition to braised red cabbage and finally in an Eve’s Pudding).  Pictured below are Marian’s muesli slices and Nadia’s chocolate cake – both absolutely delicious.

Lunch concluded with an exchange of Secret Santa gifts, which were of course books.  I received “The Secret Scripture” by Sebastian Barry which will be my reading over the Christmas holidays.  Can’t wait to get started on it.

Recipe for butternut squash soup with garlic and chilli

This recipe is the pumpkin soup recipe from from Lindsey Bareham’s book “A Celebration of Soup”.  A decent cooking pumpkin is hard to find at the best of times but butternut squash, its close relation, is readily available. Lindsey Bareham tells us that this recipe is chef Sally Clarke’s version from the book “Women Chefs of Britain”.  The ingredients given below serve 6.

Ingredients

1 large butternut squash (original recipe specifies 1 medium pumpkin, preferably a green-skinned variety)
75 ml (scant 3 fl oz olive oil)
6 cloves garlic, crushed
1 tablespoon chopped fresh sage leaves
1 large onion, roughly chopped
1 leek, roughly chopped
2 sticks celery, roughly chopped
1/2 fennel bulb, roughly chopped
2 small red chilli peppers chopped very fine
1.75 litres (3 pints) – maybe a little less if your pumpkin/squash is on the small side
salt to taste (recipe suggests 2 teaspoons)

to garnish – any or all of the following:

roast pumpkin seeds sprinkled with a little salt, either seeds from the pumpkin you used to make the soup or a packet of pumpkin seeds which you roast yourself (see below)
chopped parsley
extra virgin olive oil or chilli flavoured oil

Prepare the pumpkin or squash by peeling, seeding and cutting into 2.5 cm/ 1 inch cubes. Reserve the seeds for roasting if you like.

Heat the 75ml/3 fl oz olive oil and stir fry the garlic and sage until aromatic but don’t let it burn.  Add the onion, leek, celery, fennel, pumpkin/squash and chillis, and increase the heat slightly, stirring around until the vegetables begin to soften.  Cover with the water (the recipe suggests 3 pints but I’ve found through trial and error that this can be a bit too much – try 2 pints and add more during cooking if required) and bring to the boil, then simmer gently, half-covered, until all the vegetables are soft.  Purée to a smooth consistency.  If you like your soup very smooth, pass through a medium sieve into a clean pan.  I use a stick blender directly in the soup pan and don’t bother with a sieve. Check for consistency. Boil to reduce if too thin, add more water if too thick.  Check seasoning.

If you are roasting the seeds you extracted earlier from the pumpkin, wash them under cold running water then lay the cleaned seeds on a baking tray, drizzle them with a little vegetable oil and sprinkle with a little salt.  Bake for 10-15 minutes at 375 degrees F, 190 degrees C, gas mark 5, turning with a spoon occasionally, until they are golden brown and crisp to the bite.  If you are using a packet of seeds, proceed in the same way (but no need to rinse them under cold water first) but they will need less time in the oven as they are drier.  Watch them like a hawk as they will turn from golden to burnt in a matter of moments.

Serve garnished with the roast pumpkin seeds plus a drizzle of olive oil or chilli flavoured oil and chopped parsley if you like.

Performance anxiety at the school Christmas fair

December 8, 2009 § 2 Comments

Attending the school Christmas fair has become one of the landmark events leading up to Christmas in our social calendar.  It has become a badge of honour to bring in a batch of freshly baked home-made cakes to sell on the cake stall (rather than produce something plastic wrapped from Costco as I am afraid, Dear Reader, some parents do…)  I can’t be alone in worrying about whether my cakes will sell.  Fear not, follow my top tips below and cake stall success is virtually guaranteed.

This year, in consultation with son Arthur whose opinion was sought as to what would appeal to his classmates, I decided to bake a batch of chocolate muffins.  These ticked all the right boxes – quick, easy and cheap to make, easy to transport and, with their sprinkling of chocolate chips on top, all-important visual appeal.  The recipe, which I give below, comes from a little book “Alison Holst’s Marvellous Muffins” which my mother-in-law Monica brought back for me after a trip to New Zealand.  Baked goods including both muffins and the curiously named friands are big in the Antipodes.

The muffin mixture is gloriously mud-like and improbably runny and lumpy but this means it is just right. Here it is, in double quantity, in my trusty stainless steel All-Clad mixing bowl:

The muffin mixture is spooned into cases and each is topped with a sprinkling of chocolate chips.  I chose a pleasingly contrasted mixture of both white and dark chips.  The chocolate chips are I think essential to the success of these muffins as without them both the texture and flavour of the muffins are a bit dull.

Fresh out of the oven they look like this:

As soon as the muffins had cooled, off to school we went bearing our cake box proudly.

I had planned to position the muffins artfully in pole position at the front of the stall (it is mortifying if your cakes don’t sell) and then head for the dining room for a well-deserved cup of coffee.  It was not to be. The cake stall was short-staffed so I ducked under the trestle table and got stuck-in.  After initial panic, we soon had the stall under control.  The art of origami was mastered and several dozen cardboard cake boxes were swiftly assembled; cakes were unpacked and displayed as prettily as we could manage, items were priced, the money was managed and we were soon operating like a well oiled machine.  We managed to sell the lot without resorting to heavy discounting.  After all, as the old Yorkshire saying goes “any fool can give away t’cake”.

After my morning’s experience my 5 top tips for bakers are:

1) Appearance is everything – people buy with their eyes
2) A single large cake is easy to make and is much in demand
3) Slabs of neatly sliced rocky road and attractively decorated cupcakes also sell well
4) Sending in cakes decorated with wet icing is just unkind to the poor souls manning the stall
5) If you choose to decorate your cakes with blue and black icing, they will appeal only to a niche market of small boys under the age of 4…

Does anyone out there have their own top tips for cake stalls, whether recipes or practical ideas?

Recipe for double chocolate muffins

This recipe comes from a little New Zealand book “Alison Holst’s Marvellous Muffins”.  I give below both the cup measurements from the original recipe and metric weight equivalents.  if you choose to use the cup measurements, please remember that Australian/New Zealand cup sizes are, annoyingly not the same as US ones.  You have been warned!

The recipe makes 12 standard-sized muffins.

Ingredients

1 and 3/4 cups (245g) plain flour
4 teaspoons baking powder
1 cup (225g) caster sugar
1/4 cup (35g) cocoa powder
100g butter
1 large egg, lightly beaten
1 cup (250ml) natural yoghurt
1/2 cup (125ml) milk
1 teaspoon natural vanilla extract
1/4-1/2 cup (25-50g) chocolate chips, a mixture of dark and white if you like

Sift the dry ingredients (excluding the chocolate chips) into a large mixing bowl.

Melt the butter and add it to the other wet ingredients and mix until smooth.

Add the combined liquids to the dry ingredients and fold together but do not overmix so that the mixture is smooth.  Lumps are desirable at this stage.

Divide the mixture evenly between 12 muffin tins lined with muffin cases.  Sprinkle with chocolate chips.

Bake at 200 degrees C for 10-12 minutes.  Cool on a wire rack.  The muffins freeze well.  Take them out of the freezer and warm them through in a low oven for 10-15 minutes when you’re ready to eat them.

A Very British Thanksgiving

December 1, 2009 § Leave a comment

We are a thoroughly English family living in Manchester but nevertheless have celebrated Thanksgiving for the last four years.  This is down to my friend Lorilee who comes from West Coast of the US but now lives over here.  Sitting in her kitchen as she was preparing for her annual family celebration there was a wonderful bronze turkey on the table ready for stuffing, and delicious smells of cranberries and pumpkin pie spice wafting through the house.  I was seduced and we’ve been doing our own Thanksgiving ever since.

It’s a great way to celebrate the beginning of advent and to get together with family and friends that you won’t see on Christmas Day itself.  For us, it’s free of the weight of expectation and tradition that comes with Christmas, a blank canvas which we’ve made our own.

This year, we invited in-laws Monica and Lawrie over, plus son Arthur’s schoolfriend Rahin.  We made a bit of an effort to smarten up the house and even went so far as to hang corncobs from the door to welcome guests:

The main event was of course a wonderful bronze turkey from local supplier the Cheshire Smokehouse together with cranberry and cornbread stuffing. The stuffing is a pleasure to make, wonderful colours and smells from both the cranberries gently cooked with orange:

and from the golden cornbread:

Here is the stuffed turkey being ritually weighed on my trusty Avery Berkel scales.  This set of scales has a bit of history behind it having been sold to me some years ago by the Hon Rupert Soames, grandson of Winston Churchill.  Rupert was running a division of the the Avery business in Smethwick and I was visiting from head office and bought some of his old stock.

The scales have since become part of the family – both my two boys as babies were regularly weighed in them and they are now used for weighing ceremonial roasts.

And here is the finished turkey:

I used to have terrible trouble with turkey but have since discovered the method recommended by Leith’s Cookery Bible which is to drape over the turkey before it goes into the oven an enormous square of folded muslin soaked in an unfeasible quantity of melted butter.  This combined with a digital meat thermometer inserted into the thigh of the bird seems to do the trick.  My thermometer tells me turkey is cooked when its internal temperature reaches 82 degrees C; I find that I need to remove the bird from the oven when it reaches just 73 degrees C as the heat carries on transferring through the meat for a good 20 to 30 minutes afterwards.

With the turkey I served, as well as the aforementioned stuffing, cranberry sauce, gravy, roast winter vegetables and a dish of sweet potatoes topped with toasted marshmallows – improbably sweet and weird but nevertheless good.

Afterwards, instead of the more usual pumpkin or pecan pies, I served crema catalana, the Spanish orange and cinnamon scented version of crème brûlée together with a dish of sliced oranges in orange juice flavoured with grated lemon peel.  I know this Spanish element is from the wrong continent entirely but somehow the colours of the crema catalanas, burnished gold in their  terracotta cazuelas and the cinnamon and citrus flavours seem just right for a winter celebration which is a precursor to Christmas.

Here is a single perfect crema catalana in the tiniest of authentic cazuelas:

And here are the sliced oranges displayed in my favourite midnight blue and yellow serving bowl.  I had a pomegranate and a couple of passionfruit lurking in my fruitbowl so added these to the oranges for a pleasingly  jewelled effect:

I’ll conclude now with recipes for both the stuffing and the crema catalana.

Recipe for cornbread, cranberry and orange stuffing

This recipe comes from Nigella Lawson’s book “Feast” with just a few small modifications of my own.

Ingredients for the cornbread

175g cornmeal (I use instant polenta)
125g plain flour
45g caster sugar
pinch salt
1 tablespoon baking powder
250 ml milk
1 egg
45g butter, melted and cooled slightly

Ingredients for the stuffing

1 large orange
340g cranberries, fresh or frozen
2 tablespoons runny honey
125g butter
500g cornbread crumbs
2 eggs, beaten
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
salt and pepper

First make the cornbread.  Preheat the oven to gas mark 6/200 degrees C then prepare  a square 23 cm tin (5cm deep) either by greasing with butter or lining with baking paper.    Mix the cornmeal, flour, sugar, salt and baking powder in a large bowl.  In a measuring jug beat together the milk, egg and melted and cooled butter.  Then pour the wet ingredients into the dry, stirring with a wooden spoon until just combined but no more – the odd lump is desirable at this stage.  Pour into the prepared tin and bake for 15-20 minutes.  When ready, the cornbread should just be shrinking from the sides.  Most of the cornbread is needed for the stuffing but there should be just enough for one slice for the cook to eat, still warm from the oven and spread with butter.

Now complete the stuffing.  Zest and juice the orange.  Put the cranberries into a heavy based saucepan along with the zest and juice of the orange.  Bring to simmering point on a moderately high heat on the stove top, then add the honey then cover the pan and turn down the heat and simmer for 5 minutes.  Add the butter to the pan allowing it to melt then add the cornbread crumbs.  I simply break up the warm cornbread with a fork to give desirably rough-textured uneven crumbs.  Beat in the eggs along with the ground cinnamon plus a little salt and pepper.

Recipe for crema catalana

I found this recipe on the web after returning from an inspirational trip to Barcelona in October 2005.  It came from a US site with the unpromising sounding name of Cook’n Grill’n but claimed to originate from Barcelona landmark restaurant Set Portes which I visited on my trip.  The recipe works and tastes authentic.  The recipe I found required no less than 7 egg yolks and stated that it served 4 people.  My cut-down version requires 5 yolks and makes approximately 8 tiny pots.  The four people envisaged in the original recipe must have been very greedy indeed…

Ingredients

12 fl oz milk (whole or semi skimmed)
6 fl oz double cream
2 one inch pieces cinnamon stick
2 strips lemon zest and 2 strips orange zest (each 2 inches by 1/2 inch removed with a vegetable peeler)
2 and 1/2 oz golden caster sugar
5 egg yolks from large eggs
1 and 3/4 tablespoons plain flour

more golden caster sugar for caramelising surface of the creams

Combine the milk, cream, orange and lemon zests and cinnamon sticks in a medium sized heavy based saucepan and bring almost up to a simmer on a low heat.  Let the mixture cook for about 10 minutes so that the milk and cream become infused with the cinnamon and citrus but do not let it boil.  Remove from the heat, cover to prevent a skin forming and allow to cool a little.

Whisk together the sugar and egg yolks in a medium sized bowl.  Whisk in the flour.  Strain the infused milk and cream mixture into the yolk mixture in a thin stream and whisk to mix.  Return this mixture to the saucepan and bring gradually to simmering point over a low heat, whisking steadily.  The mixture must be allowed to thicken and cook otherwise it will not set.  Do not allow to boil rapidly or overcook or the custard will curdle.

Once the mixture has thickened, divide it between 8 small gratin dishes.  Individual terracotta cazuelas are authentic if you have them – this is how the crema is served in Barcelona.    I bought mine online back in the UK from http://www.delicioso.co.uk/spanish-food/Kitchenware/

Cover the creams with clingfilm and refrigerate for at least 2 hours.

When you are ready to serve, remove the creams from the fridge and sprinkle the surface of each one with 2 teaspoons golden caster sugar.  Quickly caramelise using a kitchen blowtorch.

Preparing for Christmas: recipes for cake, pudding and mincemeat

November 23, 2009 § 6 Comments

We are home for Christmas this year for the first time in ages so I made our Christmas cake and mincemeat this weekend, Stir-up Sunday itself.  This is a little later than planned but nevertheless in reasonable time.   Even had I all the time in the world, I wouldn’t make them before mid-October as I think a Christmas cake in particular can dry out if made too soon.   I already have a Christmas pudding maturing in the cellar from last year so that’s one less thing to do.

In this post, I’ve compiled all three recipes.  None of them are difficult – it’s mainly an assembly job getting all the dried fruit together.

Making preparations for Christmas is a satisfying thing to do on a cold and wet November weekend.  The weighing, mixing and chopping are soothing and even fun if you share them round the family and there is a great sense of linking to family tradition as the evocative Christmassy smells waft around the house. Here’s my Christmas cake dried fruit soaking in brandy complete with gaudy glacé cherries.

OK, enough of the domestic goddess stuff and onto the recipes themselves:

As various members of family and friends will testify, this is the  reliable recipe I use for wedding and Christmas cakes.  It comes from Delia Smith, the old-fashioned cookery course book, before she became a media person and the books and recipes became jazzed up with exotic ingredients and soft-focus photography.  It’s dark and moist without being soggy and slices well into neat pieces – essential when you have 100 or so wedding guests to feed!

We like Christmas cake so much that I generally make two.  One gets the full Christmas treatment and is white-iced and decorated with help from the children in whatever direction our imagination takes us.  We excelled ourselves last year with a family of white plastic polar bears gathered round an improbably turquoise fishing hole (fashioned from hard-boiled sugar syrup) in a snowy white arctic scene twinkling with silver balls.  The other gets a more workaday coat of icing on the top only.   It lasts right through till spring and is a great snack for ski-touring trips and days out walking.

Here are the cakes before baking:

And here they are again some 6 hours later (that’s how long they take in the lower Aga oven).  The stab mark in the centre is just that. I tested the centre with  a sharp knife blade to make sure there was no uncooked mixture left.  You can see the slight shrinkage away from the sides of the tin especially on the left hand one.

The smell as they come out of the oven is divine, especially when the small post-cooking glass of brandy is poured over.

My Christmas pudding recipe also comes from Delia Smith’s “Complete Cookery Course” 1982 Omnibus edition.  It’s clear, reliable and produces a dark, moist traditional Christmas pudding.  If you leave it for a full 12 months or so it becomes a wonderful black colour.

Making mincemeat was not one of the Christmas traditions I grew up with though my mother did make wonderful mince pies.  They would have been even better had she done so.  I find home-made mincemeat to be head and shoulders above the bought kind, better behaved as it’s drier and not to syrupy and you can tweak the spicing so it’s just the way you like it.  I have a weakness for cardamom which I like to indulge.

I discovered this à la carte mincemeat recipe in Frances Bissell’s inspiring book “Entertaining”.  What you do is make a base mixture without adding any ingredients which suffer if stored.  So no chopped fresh apple which can make mincemeat ferment if stored for any length of time, and no nuts which become soggy and lose their crunch..  This means you can safely store your mincemeat for ages – certainly 15 months.  When you come to use it, you add your chosen fruit and nuts and if required a further slug of alcohol to a small jar of the base mix and away you go.

Here is the completed mincemeat which needs to macerate for three days or so before potting.  I fetched up the pudding from the cellar too so all three Christmas items appear in a picture.

I can now sit back and enjoy the pleasant feeling of satisfaction that only a well-stocked neatly labelled storecupboard shelf can bring.  I imagine squirrels feel this way when they bury their caches of nuts…

One final thought is that my wondrously sharp Microplane grater makes light work of grating all the lemon and orange peel that these recipes involve.  I have a lot to thank the woodworking Grace brothers from Russellville Arkansas for.

Recipe for Christmas cake

1 lb (450g) currants
6 oz (175g) sultanas
6 oz (175g) raisins
2 oz (50g) glacé cherries rinsed and halved
2 oz (50g) mixed peel finely chopped

(Or instead of all the above, 2 lb (900g) luxury mixed fruit)

3tbsp brandy
8 oz (225g) plain flour¼ tsp nutmeg
½  tsp mixed spice (or ¼ tsp ground cloves and ¼ tsp allspice)
½ tsp ground cinnamon
2 oz (50g) chopped almonds – skin can be left on
8 oz (225g) soft brown sugar
1 dsp black treacle
8 oz (225g) butter
4 eggs
Grated rind of 1 lemon
Grated rind 1 orange

The night before you make the cake, place all the dried fruit in a bowl and mix in the brandy.  Cover the bowl and leave to macerate for at least 12 hours.

Line an 8 inch (20 cm) round cake tin lined with a double thickness of baking paper in the usual way.

Leave the treacle in a warm place to make measuring a dessertspoon easier.

Sieve the flour, salt and spices into a mixing bowl.  In a separate large mixing bowl big enough to hold the completed cake batter cream the butter, sugar and grated lemon and orange rinds together until the mixture is really light and fluffy.  Next beat the eggs and – a tablespoon at a time – add them to the creamed mixture, beating thoroughly after each addition.  Add a little flour after each addition of egg if it looks as though the mixture might curdle.

When all the egg has been added, fold in the flour and spices with your largest metal spoon.  Now stir in the macerated dried fruit, chopped nuts and treacle.

Spoon the mixture into the prepared cake tin and spread it out evenly with the back of a spoon.

If baking in a conventional electric, fan or gas oven, tie a double band of brown paper around the cake tin and cover the top of the cake with a double square of greaseproof or baking paper in the centre of which you should cut a large-coin sized hole to allow steam to escape.

If you’re not ready to bake the cake straightaway, you can delay baking it for several hours or overnight if that’s more practical.  Just leave it, covered, in a cool place until you are ready to bake.

Bake the cake in an oven preheated to 140 degrees Centigrade, 275 degrees Fahrenheit, gas mark 1 for 4-5 hours.  If in doubt about your oven temperature, err on the side of caution and turn it down.  Long slow cooking is best for a fruit cake.  I think baking at too high a temperature is the mistake most commonly made when making Christmas cake (I have done it myself a few times).  This results in the currants getting burnt making swollen little blackened lumps on the surface and the cake itself becomes dry and crumbly and very difficult to slice.

Wait until 4 hours have passed before checking the cake.  When it is ready, the cake will have shrunk back just a little from the side of tin, it will be firm when pressed lightly in the centre with a finger tip and, final test, a skewer inserted into the centre will show no traces of uncooked cake batter.

I bake mine in the lower oven of our 2 oven Aga.  The temperature is only 110-120 degrees C so the cooking time is rather longer.  If I bake two cakes at the same time which I often do, it may take 8 hours in the bottom oven until both cakes are ready – long and slow really is best.

I like to pour a generous glass of brandy over the hot cake as soon as it comes out of the oven.

Leave until the cake is completely cold before folding over the wrappings, wrapping in foil and storing in an airtight tin or plastic box until you are ready to marzipan and ice the cake.  You can feed the cake with a little brandy if you like – prick some holes in the top with a fine skewer or large darning needle and pour over a couple of tablespoons of brandy.  Do not overdo this as it is possible to turn the centre of your cake into an alcohol sodden mush.  If you’ve soaked the dried fruit properly and baked it at the right low temperature, the cake should be pretty moist already.

Recipe for Christmas pudding

Makes 2 puddings in 2 pint (1 litre) basins or 4 in 1 pint (570 ml) basin

8 oz (225g) shredded suet
1 heaped tsp mixed spice
½ tsp grated nutmeg
½ tsp ground cinnamon
4 oz (110g) self-raising flour
1 lb (450g) soft brown sugar
8 oz (225g) fresh white breadcrumbs
8 oz (225g) sultanas
8 oz (225g) raisins
1 ¼ lb (500g) currants
2 oz (50g) almonds, roughly chopped (skin can be left on if you like)
2 oz (50g) finely chopped mixed peel
The grated rind of 1 orange and 1 lemon
1 apple, peeled, cored and finely chopped (either cooking or eating apple)
4 medium eggs
10 fl oz dark beer (Guinness or your favourite Christmas ale)
4 tbsp brandy

Put the suet, flour, breadcrumbs, spices and sugar in a large bowl big enough to hold all the pudding mixture, mixing in each ingredient thoroughly before adding the next.  Then gradually mix in all the fruit, peel and nuts and follow these with the apple and grated orange and lemon rind.

In a different bowl beat the eggs and mix the brandy and beer into them.  Empty all this over the dry ingredients and stir vigorously until well combined.  Make your wishes now.  You may need to add a little more beer to give a soft dropping consistency.  Cover the bowl and leave overnight to allow all the flavours to combine and to ensure there are no pockets of unmixed flour or breadcrumbs remaining.

The next day, pack the mixture into greased pudding basins filling them right to the top.  Insert your preferred number of clean foil-wrapped £1 coins or (whatever coin or charm you like to use).  Cover each basin with a square of greaseproof paper and tie a piece of foil over the top, securing tightly with string around the rim of the basin.  Rig up a string handle over the basin, anchoring this to the string around the rim.  This will make your life easier when you come to retrieve the puddings from the pan(s) of simmering water in which you will steam them.

Steam the puddings for 8 hours making sure the water in the pan does not all boil away.  You can do this on the hob or inside a 140 degree Centigrade oven.  I use the lower oven of a 2 oven Aga to do this which minimises steam in the kitchen and practically eliminates the risk of the water boiling dry.  When cooked and cooled, replace foil and greaseproof paper with fresh.  Store in a cool dry place for up to 15 months.  They may keep longer but I’ve never gone longer than this.  So you can make puddings now both for this Christmas and the year after.  When ready to eat, steam for a further 2 hours.  Before serving, warm (to a little more than blood temperature) three or four tablespoons of brandy in a small saucepan, carefully ignite shielding your hands, face and hair from the flames and pour the flaming brandy over the pudding in its serving bowl before taking it to the table where you will have dimmed the lights for the most theatrical effect.

Recipe for à la carte mincemeat

Makes about 4 lb (2 kg)

8 oz (250g) dried apricots or stoned prunes or combination of the two
8 oz (250g) raisins
8 oz (250g) dates
8 oz (250g) sultanas
8 oz (250g) currants
8 oz (250g) shredded beef suet or vegetarian suet or grated coconut cream or 8 tbsp flavourless vegetable oil
4 oz (125g) demerara sugar
4 oz (125g) chopped mixed peel
Grated zest and juice of 1 lemon and 1 orange
1 tsp ground mixed spice (or your own combination of cinnamon, cloves, ginger, nutmeg and mace)
½ tsp ground cardamom
¼ pint (150ml) rum or brandy
¼ pint (150 ml) oloroso or cream sherry or port

Chop or mince the dried fruit (I do this carefully in the food processor), then, in a large bowl, mix with all the other ingredients and leave, covered, for 2-3 days before potting and labeling.

When you wish to use the mincemeat, spoon out about 8 oz (250g) into a bowl.  That, together with one of the following, will fill 12-18 mince pies: 1 Bramley or russet apple,peeled,cored and grated and mixed with 3 oz (75g) flaked almonds; 1-2 Cnference pears,peeled,cored and grated, and mixed with a little fresh, grated ginger or stem ginger and handful of pinenuts; 3 oz (75g) dried cranberries, cherries or blueberries; ½ medium pineapple, peeled, cored and chopped and mixed with a handful of pine nuts or flaked coconut; 3-4 oz (100g) dried mango, chopped and mixed with a handful of chopped cashew nuts; 3-4 oz (100g) fresh cranberries cooked in a little orange juice until they pop, and mixed with chopped mandarin segments and grated mandarin zest or chopped kumquats.  To date, I have stuck with the apple and almond and pear, ginger and pine-nut combinations – both worked very well.  Feel free to try your own.

Mountain breakfast from Andorra

November 15, 2009 § Leave a comment

Hmm this one proved a challenge.  Tiny Andorra, only 180 square miles in land area is just a little smaller than the Isle of Man (in turn 1/3 of the size of Hertfordshire) and has a population of 70,000, about the same of my home town of Altrincham.  It is located in the Pyrenées, squeezed in between France and Spain and is mainly rugged and mountainous in character – no part of the country lies below 3,000 ft or 900m – like living permanently on the summit of Helvellyn.

Andorra, known for cheap skiing holidays, duty free booze and a dodgy football team that even England can beat, is essentially Catalan in culture.  Its food, from what I can glean, is rustic and hearty reflecting the life its mountain people lead (or used to lead before the influx of Irish skiers looking for a bargain).

I found no specific breakfast recipes, but rustled up two typical Andorran dishes are  Trinxat – a Catalan version of bubble and squeak, and Truites de Carreroles, a type of mushroom omelette.  These were just the thing for a hearty breakfast on a chilly November morning.  What type of mushroom omelette we shall never know as the sources are silent on this – I decided to do my own thing on the mushroom omelette front.

The recipe for Trinxat follows, from a handy little website www.europeancuisines.com.  I’ve tweaked the recipe a little to simplify the bacon fat rendering and cabbage cookery suggestions – boiling the cabbage whole for 45 minutes before chopping it sounded neither sensible nor pleasant.

Recipe for Trinxat Andorran cabbage and potato cake with bacon

Enough for one generous potato and cabbage cake in an 8-10 inch diameter frying pan.  I used my trusty non-stick Meyer Anolon pan (8 inch diameter at the base flaring to 10 inches diameter) which is good for pancakes and omelettes of all kinds

Half a 2lb Savoy cabbage, quartered, core removed and shredded
1 lb floury potatoes, peeled
2 oz lardons (diced fat bacon pieces – I used inauthentic pancetta)
2 tbsp olive oil
1 clove garlic, peeled and crushed
pepper

Crisply fried or grilled rashers of bacon to serve

Boil the potatoes and mash using a food-mill for a lump-free mash.  Season but add no butter or anything else to it at this stage.

Steam the shredded cabbage for 5 minutes until just cooked.

Mix together the cabbage and potatoes.  Taste and season again.

Fry the lardons gently in the olive oil for 5 minutes or so until the fat is rendered and the lardons begin to turn golden-brown at the edges.  Throw in the garlic and cook for a couple of minutes more.  Add the cabbage and potato mixture, stir to distribute lardons and garlic then flatten into a 1/2 inch thick cake.  Cook over a moderate heat on the hob until a crust has formed (5-10 minutes).  Invert a large plate over the frying pan and carefully flip the cake over and slide it back into the pan.  I wear oven gloves to do this.  Cook for a further 5-10 minutes until the second side is crusty and browned.

Serve with crisply fried or grilled bacon rashers.  A poached egg or two would be a good addition if not entirely authentically Andorran.

Algerian breakfast…not what you might think

October 18, 2009 § Leave a comment

“A line of cheap speed and a shot of Pernod, usually taken as a pick-me-up after a rough night” is how Urbandictionary.com  defines an Algerian breakfast.  Hmmm I’m not even quite sure what speed is let alone how to procure it cheaply in Altrincham.  I had in mind something rather more civilised.

Algeria is a former French colony (think Zinadine Zidane, Albert Camus and the French Foreign Legion) becoming independent in 1962. The French left behind, amongst other things, the legacy of their bread so a crusty baguette was the first item to be chosen.  I still baulk at tackling a loaf of French bread at home so this was purchased fresh from the boulangerie.  With the baguette, unsalted butter and a jar of home-made jam – the one I chose was an amber coloured plum jam made by friend Nadia who is into preserving big-time at the moment.  Nadia takes the trouble to crack open the plum stones and add the almondy kernels to the jam which is something you’ll never find in the shop-bought stuff.

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To drink, café au lait in bowls, plus glasses of deep purple pomegranate juice (I’m not sure whether the juice is authentic but I wanted to bring some eastern exoticism onto the breakfast table on this chilly October morning).

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The pièce de resistance was a plateful of Makrout el Assel freshly deep fried, a kind of Algerian almond doughnut, the whole plateful doused in warm honey.

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All of us spent the next couple of hours bouncing off the walls on a sugar, white bread and caffeine-induced high.  Who needs cheap speed and Pernod with a breakfast like this!

I found the Makrout recipe on http://www.la-cuisine-marocaine.com French language website – yes I realise this means Moroccan but the given derivation was most definitely Algerian.  Here’s the recipe translated as best I could.

Recipe for Makrout el Assel

Ingredients

Dough
500g medium semolina
125g melted smen (clarified butter)
pinch salt
orange-flower water
10cl warm water

Filling
250g ground almonds
150g caster sugar
orange-flower water

Oil for deep-frying

Place the semolina and salt in a bowl.  Mix.  Add the melted clarified butter and rub with the palms of your hands to mix well and incorporate the fat into the semolina.  The mixture should be sandy in texture.

Add the warm water plus a little orange flower water gradually to the mixture and bring it together to form a dough without over-working.  Once you have a supple dough, leave it to rest in the fridge.

Mix together the ground almonds and sugar and add a little orange flower water to form a paste.  The mixture should not be too moist.

To form the Makrout, take a good-sized piece of dough, roll it out and hollow out a groove in the middle without going right through.  Form with your hands a fat rope shaped piece of the almond filling and place it into the groove.  Bring up the edges to seal in the filling and roll the whole thing, flattening it a little until it is 3-4cm thick. Cut the flattened roll into lozenges and place them on a plate until you are ready to fry them.  Expect to repeat this exercise 3-4 times to use up the dough and filling.

Take a paintbrush, dip it into lightly beaten egg white and brush over the cut surfaces of the individual lozenges to seal in the almond filling before frying.

Fry in hot oil, preferably in a deep-fat frier with a basket, until golden brown.  Drain on absorbent paper and serve with warm honey.

Note on semolina. I have semolina in my cupboard (for baking middle-eastern type cakes not for making the milk pudding of school-dinner induced nightmares) but have never been entirely sure what it is.  Trusty Harold McGee  in “On Food & Cooking” explains that semolina is “milled durum endosperm with a characteristically coarse particle size (0.15-0.5mm across) thanks to the hard nature of durum endosperm (finer grinding causes excessive damage to starch granules).  So now you know.

Albanian Adventure

October 12, 2009 § 3 Comments

I’ve always wanted to visit Albania.  Aged 14, I wrote to the Foreign Office requesting information on how to travel to Albania and received back a helpful advice pack detailing how to travel to all the then Communist Eastern bloc countries (with difficulty).  They probably put me on a watch list back then and maybe that’s the reason why I never made it into the Civil Service despite passing those horrible exams whilst at University… I digress.  I finally made a small excursion to Albania on Sunday morning in the form of the next breakfast of the world, (according to my son George’s flag poster) which, in alphabetical order, is that of Albania.

Detailed information sources on Albanian food and specific recipes are scarce.  A good starting point was www.tourism-in-albania.com which helpfully explained “You have the option of starting your day with a continental breakfast that most Albanian hotels serve. However, if you are adventurous, you may try the traditional Albanian breakfast of pilaf, which is flavoured rice or paça – a soup made using animals’ innards.”   Whilst trawling through internet search responses I found various Albanian travel blogs and  was amused to read Gareth Morgan’s account of breakfast in the Albanian city of Shkodra – 2 espressos and 14 cigarettes.

Next stop was Lesley Chamberlain’s excellent book “The Food and Cooking of Eastern Europe” published by Penguin in 1989.  The book is both comprehensive in scope covering cuisines from East Germany and Poland in the north to Albania in the south and the then USSR in the east.  The recipes are clearly written and easy to follow and are interspersed with just the right amount of scholarly information and journalistic travel writing.

I quote the following extract both by way of background and to illustrate Ms Chamberlain’s poetic and informative style.  “Today, with a population of 3 million, Albania declares itself self-sufficient in food.  Realistically, this means some belt-tightening towards the end of winter and into mid-spring, for the cuisine is wholly dependent on the seasons rather than imports, but it remains primarily an agricultural country.  I happened to visit Albania in September, which was, at the opposite end of the scale, the high season of locally harvested food.  Peppers, tomatoes and aubergines abounded, with goat’s milk brine cheese, eggs, pasta, rice, dried beans and unadulterated bread.  There was yoghurt, a wonderful green olive oil, some passable red meat and chicken, good fish – we ate grey mullet from the sea and carp from Lake Shkodra – and to highlight the Turkish legacy wonderful sweet Oriental pastries and lokum (Turkish delight) followed at the table and in the streets with fat bunches of green grapes and slices of refreshing watermelon.”

I decided to begin our breakfast with an Albanian soup recipe from Ms Chamberlain’s book.  She writes in her soup chapter “Before the arrival of coffee in Central Europe, the first cup of soup was drunk at breakfast and the habit continued well into the nineteenth century…Magyar peasants first thought of coffee as ‘black soup’.”

Ms Chamberlain wrote back in 1989 that “it is difficult to find Albanian recipes, for there is no book on Albanian food in English.”  Times have changed and I managed to track down “The Best of Albanian Cooking” by Klementina and R. John Hysa published in the US by Hippocrene in 1998.  Mr and Mrs Hysa, whose scary black and white photos adorn the inside cover of the book (he a dead ringer for Frankenstein’s monster and she for Cruella de Ville) are an emigré couple now living in Canada.  R.John Hysa writes in the introduction to book  “All visitors we happened to host have really enjoyed the delicious Albanian dishes my wife served them.  They couldn’t resist asking her to write down some of te

Albanian breakfast soup recipe

“A less elaborate garlic soup is made in Albania by frying half a dozen cloves of garlic in a tablespoon of olive oil, sprinkling on a teaspoon of paprika and a few cups of water.  When the soup boils, add a few handfuls of vermicelli, season with salt to taste and garnish with parsley.”

In fact I substituted some home made beef stock for the water – after all, paça or paçe (see above) appears to mean a meat broth – and also substituted a handful of spaghetti snapped into bite-size lengths for the vermicelli.  The end result was basic in flavour but good.

Here is the finished soup along with kabuni, a sweet rice pilaf:

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Ms Chamberlain writes “It is difficult to find Albanian recipes, for there is no book on Albanian food in English”.  This has since been put right as I succeeded in tracking down a copy of “The Best of Albanian Cooking” by Klementina and R. John Hysa published in the US in 1998 by Hippocrene.  The authors are an emigré couple now living in Canada and their rather scary black and white photographs adorn the inside back cover, he a dead-ringer for Frankenstein’s monster and she for Cruella de Ville.  Mr Hysa writes in the introduction to the book “All visitors that we happened to host have really enjoyed the delicious Albanian dishes my wife served them.  They couldn’t resist asking her to write down some of the recipes for them or urging her to open a restaurant that couldn’t but be a ‘smashing success’..”

Flicking through the book I came across “Spitroasted Lamb Entrails”, “Stuffed Beef Spleen”, copious references to frying in margarine and a Trahana soup whose principal ingredients are water, breadcrumbs and toast. This is not a straightforward cuisine to sell to the uninitiated and I wanted to shout to R.John Hysa “Don’t do it! Don’t open that restaurant – your guests were just being polite!”  Nevertheless, the book is clearly set out and gives a real flavour of authentic Albanian cooking, though the recipes are a little sketchy.  After a little searching within, I found a sweet rice pilaf, kabuni (see above).  The use of meat stock in a sweet rice dish is unusual and the clove and cinnamon flavouring typically Albanian.  I decided to complete the breakfast with some fruit – a pear compote with an Italian influenced lemon zest flavouring,also a filo pastry pie (byrek or burek- a similar word to the Turkish pie börek) and some thick natural yoghurt for which Albania, like Bulgaria is well known.  Of all the dishes, the filo pastry pie with a feta and parsley filling was the most accessible and is probably the one I would cook again.  Here’s the pie, fresh out of the oven:

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All in all, an unusual breakfast which provided a geographical and historical insight into this enigmatic Balkan country.

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The 3 recipes from “The Best of Albanian Cooking” are reproduced below in all their sketchy glory.

Kabuni – Sweet Rice and Raisin Pilaf

Ingredients

1 cup rice
1/4 cup butter
1 cup sugar
1 and 1/2 cups mutton or lamb bouillon
1/4 cup raisins
Ground cinnamon and ground cloves

Sauteé rice slightly in butter mixed with a teaspoon sugar.  Add boiling bouillon and raisins.  Simmer 10 minutes, mix with sugar and bake in moderate oven (350 degrees F) for 20 minutes.  Remove from oven, sprinkle with cinnamon and cloves.  Serve hot. 4 servings.

Jennifer’s notes: I used basmati rice which I soaked in cold water for 20 minutes before draining in a sieve and frying according to the recipe.  I increased the bouillon quantity to two cups which are the usual proportions for a pilau or pilaf.  I used a mixture of home-made chicken and beef bouillon rather than lamb as that was I happened to have in the fridge.  I added the spices to the buttery rice before adding the stock rather than at the end of cooking and I also reduced the sugar quantity by about 1/4.   I covered my pan with a lid before baking in the oven.

Byrek me gjizë – cottage cheese pie

Ingredients

1 and 1/2 cups salted cottage cheese
3 eggs
4 tablespoons chopped parsley
Salt
6 tablespoons melted butter or margarine
1 and 1/2 packets pastry leaves (phyllo dough)

Mix well cottage cheese, eggs, parsley and a bit salt, and use this mixture as filling for the pie.  Use melted butter/margarine to brush the baking pan and to sprinkle pastry leaves.  Prepare and bake the pie as in the recipe spinach pie (Brush the baking pan with some of the melted butter/margarine, and start laying pastry leaves, allowing the edges to get out of the baking pan for about one inch: lay two leaves, sprinkle or brush with butter/margarine, then lay two other leaves, and so on, until half of the leaves are laid.  Spread the filling mixture over the laid pastry leaves.  Finish laying the other half of pastry leaves, turn the edges of the bottom leaves over the pie, sprinkle with melted butter/margarine and bake in a moderate oven at 350 degrees F for about 45 minutes or until a golden brown crust is obtained.) 4 servings.

Jennifer’s notes: I used a single pack of Cypressa filo pastry and a single pack of crumbled feta cheese combined with half the quantity of other ingredients for the filling.  I baked the pie in a deepish rectangular metal tin which it didn’t fill: the halved pastry sheets formed a rustic square shape which looked quite attractive.  This pie was also good cold and survived well for a picnic.

Komposto dardhe – pears compote

Ingredients

2 pounds pears
3 tablespoons lemon juice
1 cup sugar
1 tablespoon grated lemon rind
1/4 cup liqueur wine
Cloves (whole)

Put peeled sliced pears with the cores removed into 2 cups cold water and lemon juice for 20 minutes.  Simmer pear peels for 10 minutes in 4 cups water in another utensil, filter the liquid, add sugar and return the syrup to the sliced pears.  Chill and stir in wine.  Season with cloves.

Jennifer’s notes: I added sugar to the water and boiled this to make a syrup rather than adding sugar afterwards.  Best to cool the syrup a little before pouring over pears as it made their edges turn soggy.  Does it mean a teaspoon rather than a tablespoon of lemon rind?  The lemon flavouring really lifts the pears and Marcella Hazan uses it in her Italian fruit salad or macedoine recipe – that Balkan influence again!

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