tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13524149133594769992024-03-14T08:06:35.631+00:00Toast (etc.)Rick Bothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09754983389203055815noreply@blogger.comBlogger15125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1352414913359476999.post-17026150438572934342020-12-23T18:49:00.001+00:002020-12-23T18:49:36.137+00:00Making a Hash of It: Traditional Scottish Lasagne<i>Well look at that, my highly esteemed food blog almost made it through 2020 without a post. No more:</i><div><br /></div><div>Since having a daughter, my repertoire at dinnertime has very much refocused on nutritious foods that are quick to throw together and taste good to both five year olds and middle aged men. In retrospect it's astonishing I thought it was a good idea to serve pigeon breast to my pre-teen nieces.</div><div><br /></div><div>In this spirit I document my effort at recreating a recipe for my husband's childhood favourite, Corned Beef Hash; be warned this is not an American hash, it's a Scottish store cupboard recipe presumably prized mostly for thrift:</div><div><br /></div><div>1. Make up a packet of Idahoan instant mashed potato, using less water than recommended (I do 425ml). You could also cook and mash actual potatoes, I just don't enjoy potato enough to discern a difference. I just wouldn't sink to Smash.</div><div><br /></div><div>2. Thinly slice an onion, soften in a frying pan with a little oil, add a cubed can of corned beef, heat through and then stir in two tablespoons of Worcestershire sauce.</div><div><br /></div><div>3. Pour a can of low sugar baked beans into a sieve to drain off some juice (this elevates the recipe to cordon bleu), then dump this into a lasagne dish.</div><div><br /></div><div>4. Add the corned beef layer on top.</div><div><br /></div><div>5. Top with mash.</div><div><br /></div><div>6. Bake at 190°C for 20 minutes, then sprinkle a little cheddar on and bake 10-15 minutes longer to crisp up.</div><div><br /></div><div>Pairs well with nursery veg like cauliflower and peas.</div><div><br /></div><div>I tell my daughter it's Scottish lasagne and she accepts this and eats it up. My husband is transported back to chuldhood. It's rather growing on me too.</div>Rick Bothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09754983389203055815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1352414913359476999.post-7602875245290175922019-08-31T11:14:00.001+01:002019-08-31T11:29:13.458+01:00Sourdough<p dir="ltr">There is only one place I've found with decent bread in our home town - and if you don't turn up in the morning it's often sold out of the nice stuff - so a few weeks ago I figured it was finally time to attempt making sourdough bread from scratch again.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I've tried making sourdough starters twice before, and it always turned into a foul, black slime. I guess a basement flat in North London and a cold, damp tenement flat in Edinburgh weren't the best places to be capturing wild yeasts and bacteria! We now live in a much nicer and cleaner part of the world, and I had much greater success.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I used the <a href="https://slice.seriouseats.com/2010/11/how-to-make-sourdough-starter-day-0.html">Serious Eats method</a> of creating a 'mother' this time. The previous methods I've tried have involved adding lots of flour and water to feed the mother, and then because that creates a lot of product you need to throw a lot of it out (some require throwing out half each day), while Serious Eats takes a much more sensible approach of making a very tiny batch which you feed in very small volumes until the colony is established, and then you can build it up to the volume you need for baking. After all, it's not like a tiny yeast needs a giant meal. I've made four loaves from my mother so far and I haven't had to throw any away.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I used white bread flour initially to establish the colony and it quickly settled into a nice, vanilla-like aroma with a hint of sourness. This matured over a week into what is now a very vigorous starter, that only smells of delicious yeasty bread dough. Perfect. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Serious Eats provides some really useful guidance on tailoring the mother too. In particular, the more you stir it the stronger the yeast colony becomes, but the less you stir it the stronger the bacteria colony becomes (and so, the characteristic sour flavour can emerge). On previous attempts I had no idea, but this very basic understanding of the symbiotic relationship between the two colonies in the mother helped get me ensure it established the flavours it needed.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I moved to the <a href="https://slice.seriouseats.com/2010/11/how-to-make-sourdough-starter-day-0.html">River Cottage bread </a><a href="https://slice.seriouseats.com/2010/11/how-to-make-sourdough-starter-day-0.html"><u>handbook</u></a> for recipes, once the mother was established, as US bread flour has different protein levels and I just have no interest in imperial measurements. River Cottage also suggest feeding the mother equal volumes of flour and water - while Serious Eats uses equal weights - and I found the lower hydration of the River Cottage method to be both easier and produce a healthier colony.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I also switched to feeding the mother wholemeal rather than white flour, and it was akin to turning a switch. The bottle suddenly became alive.</p>
<p dir="ltr">For my first batch I used a white bread recipe that was very high in hydration and that guarantees those big, spongy holes associated with sourdough. Unfortunately it was horrible to deal with in terms of kneading and shaping, and then so sticky it rose beautifully in the proving basket but then wouldn't leave the basket, so when I turned it out in stretched out like chewing gum. Tasted okay, looked horrific and had a very compacted texture as <u>t</u>he bubble network I literally spent ten days creating was destroyed in a single second.</p>
<p dir="ltr">My second batch is a lower hydration wholemeal loaf, that's risen nicely and is proving now ready for baking in the late afternoon.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Fingers crossed.</p>
Rick Bothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09754983389203055815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1352414913359476999.post-83197085964697808512019-07-28T08:37:00.000+01:002022-10-16T19:14:14.261+01:00A Fairly Tart Crumble<div dir="ltr">
I also made a crumble while Bear was visiting. He likes things to be fairly tart so I used a mix of gooseberries from the garden and granny smith apples for the filling. I always vary my recipe for crumble with differing results but this one was especially nice so I record it for posterity:</div>
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<br></div>
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Oven to 170°c.</div>
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<br></div>
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Mix in a suitable deep dish for 4-5 people:</div>
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</div>
<ul>
<li>500g gooseberry + chopped apples</li>
<li>40g caster sugar</li>
<li>1 spoon of cornflour</li>
</ul>
<br>
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</div>
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Rub together into breadcrumbs:</div>
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</div>
<ul>
<li>175g plain flour</li>
<li>85g salted butter, chilled (I used Vitalite as Bear is vegan; any spread suited to baking will work, but not a low fat spread)</li>
</ul>
<br>
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</div>
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Stir into the flour mix:</div>
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</div>
<ul>
<li>75g soft dark sugar (break up so not too clumped)</li>
<li>A handful of slivered almonds</li>
</ul>
<br>
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</div>
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Pour topping onto the filling, making an even layer but without pressing down. Bake for 45 minutes. You can grill the topping further if you want it to be toasty golden but I didn't bother.</div>
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<br></div>
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It was the hottest day of the year so we ate it at room temperature with soy-based vanilla ice cream. Very delicious.</div>
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<br></div>
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I found the Vitalite easier to rub in than dairy butter, so might use this in future instead. You also get much better texture in cakes with margarine than butter so maybe I should stop being a snob about it (although butter has a much better flavour in a yellow cake I guess).</div>
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<br></div>
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We all agreed the topping worked because it's not homogenous. The sugar sits as crystals among the slivered almonds within the topping, giving a lot of crunch and texture, almost like a granola. This is the polar opposite of my sister-in-law's method where the topping is made on the stove and everything cooked together. This is exactly the end of that spectrum I was aiming for.</div><div dir="ltr"><br></div><div dir="ltr"><b>Update October 2022:</b></div><div dir="ltr"><br></div><div dir="ltr">We didn't have any butter - not even for ready money - and so I adapted the crumble recipe for basic vegetable oil. It tasted great and was much quicker to make, so this is my recommended method now. Stir together:</div><div dir="ltr"><ul id="zlrecipe-ingredients-list" data-slot-rendered-recipe_mobile="true"><li id="zlrecipe-ingredient-0" class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredients">100 grams flour</li><li id="zlrecipe-ingredient-1" class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredients">75 grams oats</li><li id="zlrecipe-ingredient-2" class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredients">75 grams dark brown sugar</li><li id="zlrecipe-ingredient-2" class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredients">A handful of slivered almonds</li><li id="zlrecipe-ingredient-3" class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredients">1tsp cinnamon</li><li id="zlrecipe-ingredient-7" class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredients">⅓ cup sunflower or other oil</li></ul><div>Then use as above.</div><div><br></div><div>Given oil has no water content it seems to toast very quickly, so cooking at 160°C for 45 minutes might work well. You can cover in foil halfway to stop it browning further too.</div></div>
Rick Bothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09754983389203055815noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1352414913359476999.post-40937400285693224412019-07-27T20:08:00.001+01:002019-07-27T20:15:28.799+01:00Summer sanchis<div dir="ltr">
In my twenties I would go with my friends on regular road trips to the southwest of England, without any level of planning at all. We'd inevitably end up in a remote caravan park for the night with no food, and at thay point Monkey would pull out a Tupperware box of sanchis and dinner was sorted. On one long trip to collect Spim from France, Piglet and I were dispatched in a van with a weekends' worth of sanchis in a bucket.<br />
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Monkey invented the sanchi, which is effectively a samosa jaffle, i.e. curried vegetables toasted between two slices of bread in the sandwich toaster. They are delicious hot or cold, and perfect picnic material. I'd not had them for a decade, but Bear is visiting and kindly resurrected our ancient wiki to unearth a rough version of the recipe, and together we put together this interpretation:</div>
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</div>
<ul>
<li>Heat 1 tbsp olive oil in a big pot, add a heaped spoonful or two of mustard seeds, a cinnamon stick and 3-4 cloves. Let the aromas release.</li>
<li>Add a small chopped onion and salt, let soften.</li>
<li>Add a big carrot and big potato - both cut in small dice - stir and let sweat, then stir in 1 tbsp garam masala, 2 tsp cumin, 1 tsp turmeric, a good pinch of chilli flakes and a handful of red lentils.</li>
<li>Stir until aromas are released, then add a small can of drained sweetcorn, a handful of frozen peas and enough water to cover the bottom of the pan, put on the lid and leave to cook for 10 minutes or so. It's ready when the potatoes are tender. Keep an eye on water level - you don't want it to burn, but it should be dry when finished. </li>
<li>Stir in the juice of a lemon, a very finely chopped small red onion and adjust the seasoning.</li>
<li>Use the filling to make toasted sandwiches, using cheap white supermarket bread. Butter the outside of you like it crispy and brown but it's not essential.</li>
</ul>
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Serve hot or cold with appropriate condiments. We went for a Canarian green mojo sauce and - in the absence of any tamarind sauce at Waitrose - tonkatsu sauce, which was perfect.<br />
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<i>Mojo sauce is: blitz two garlic cloves, half a teaspoon of cumin, a teaspoon of salt, a bunch of coriander and half a cup of olive oil in a small blender. Add five tablespoons of cold water, blitzing between each spoonful to mix it in. Finish with a few teaspoons of vinegar or a good squirt of lemon juice. Adjust the seasoning.</i></div>
Rick Bothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09754983389203055815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1352414913359476999.post-24853678186123894652019-07-06T19:35:00.001+01:002019-07-27T20:17:08.987+01:00Sponge pudding and custard in the microwave<div dir="ltr">
I felt nostalgic for the sponge puddings with custard which I was fed as a child, but didn't have much time. Or any ready-made custard. Or custard powder. Or cream. But after a bit of googling I found this easy way to make it in the microwave, which I mostly record here so I won't lose it:</div>
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Whisk <b>450ml milk</b> into <b>3tbs caster sugar</b> and <b>4tbs corn flour</b> in a jug.</div>
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Blast for 2 minutes in the microwave, whisk and then repeat. Should be a thickened paste. If not cook a little longer.</div>
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Pour the paste slowly into a large bowl containing <b>two eggs</b>, whisking enthusiastically.</div>
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Pour this mix back into the jug, microwave for another minute and then whisk in <b>50g butter</b> and <b>half a teaspoon of vanilla paste</b> (or the equivalent of extract etc).</div>
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It tasted better than most other custards I've had.</div>
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The sponge pudding I made just the way my mum always did - in about five minutes in the microwave! Microwaves were new and exciting in the 1980s and entire books were written about how to get the best results from them. This was all before they earned their reputation for reheating ready meals for lonely singletons. The basic pudding is:</div>
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Microwave <b>115g butter </b>and <b>115g caster sugar</b> in a microwave for 15 seconds. Beat with a wooden spoon until a unified paste (should be quick given you heated it all).</div>
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Beat in <b>two eggs</b> until a unified paste, then sift in <b>115g of self raising flour</b> and beat that in.</div>
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Grease a pudding basin, put your <b>filling</b> in the bottom (jam, syrup, fruit compote, Nutella, etc ... I did pineapple), dump the sponge mix on top and cover with a lid or cling film.</div>
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Microwave for five minutes, test with a toothpick and cook longer if it needs it.</div>
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It was lovely and brought back a lot of memories, but I have no idea how we managed to eat something this heavy every Sunday after a full roast dinner!</div>
Rick Bothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09754983389203055815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1352414913359476999.post-43560281981565252952017-08-13T14:18:00.001+01:002017-08-13T14:18:52.620+01:00Toddler's gluten-free birthday cake<p dir="ltr">My toddler daughter was having a birthday party, and in order to include one of her wee friends we wanted the cake to be gluten free. As she loves eating strawberries and as British strawberries are at the height of deliciousness in August, I came up with an adaptation of Nigella Lawson's apple and almond cake (which is short and squat but very lovely) to come up with a gluten free, dairy free strawberry Victoria sponge (which is tall, light and moist). </p>
<p dir="ltr">Consensus among the parents was that the cake was even more delicious than a traditional Victoria sponge. The kids also loved it. Several people went back for thirds. I would actually make this in preference to a normal gluten-full sponge in future, even ignoring particular dietary requirements. A real hit.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Details:</p>
<p dir="ltr">1. Oven to 180 degrees.</p>
<p dir="ltr">2. Peel, core and chop three eating apples, add to a pan with the juice of half a lemon and two teaspoons of sugar, and cook gently for ten minutes with the lid on until you can mash to a rough puree with a potato masher or fork. Spread thin on a dinner plate to cool down.</p>
<p dir="ltr">3. Oil and line two Victoria sandwich tins. Be sure to line the sides as the mixture can stick. Ideally use non stick paper rather than parchment.</p>
<p dir="ltr">4. Separate six of eight eggs in total.</p>
<p dir="ltr">5. Put six egg yolks, two eggs, 325 grams of ground almonds, 275 grams of sugar and the juice of the other half lemon into a food processor, mix to a batter and then in three batches mix in the Apple puree (in batches so there's not too much concentrated heat being added, as it won't be wholly cool yet). Scrape batter into a large bowl.</p>
<p dir="ltr">6. Separately, whip the egg whites into soft peaks. Fold a tablespoon of the egg whites into the batter to loosen, then fold the remainder in a third at a time.</p>
<p dir="ltr">7. Divide between two sandwich tins (fill to the brim if you like, the mixture is already light and won't really rise much) and bake for 25-30 mins. A test knife should come out fairly clean, if not cook for 5 minutes more until it sets. With all those almonds the cake won't easily dry out, so overcooking is only a problem if you leave it so long you burn the top and sides (which even then adds a nice, bitter biscuity note). </p>
<p dir="ltr">8. Remove from tins ten minutes after leaving the oven, then cool completely on a rack.</p>
<p dir="ltr">9. Fill as you please. I whipped up ~400ml of double cream until soft and holding its shape, then filled the cake with jam and cream and topped it with cream and fresh strawberries. This worked very well.</p>
<p dir="ltr">... I imagine you could put lemon or orange zest in the mixture for a different sort of cake, or any other flavouring really. The base cake tastes buttery and moist, and holds its shape really well. I've never known a gluten free cake made without those shop bought, <u>fairly</u> artificial gluten free flours to sit so tall and light, so this is really a good base recipe to work from.</p>
<p dir="ltr">It may also help that the cake is dairy free, but that didn't matter to me this time round.</p>
Rick Bothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09754983389203055815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1352414913359476999.post-61699528475506202312017-06-06T11:32:00.004+01:002017-06-06T11:32:39.131+01:00A much easier sweet potato macaroni cheeseI have a 21 month old daughter who loves eating <a href="https://www.nigella.com/recipes/sweet-potato-macaroni-cheese">Nigella Lawson's most excellent sweet potato macaroni cheese</a>. The thought of macaroni cheese has always appealed, but the reality is usually disappointing: a claggy, heavy, greasy mess often made worse in many recipes by the addition of bacon or chorizo (two ingredients not well known for their capacity to cut through fat). Nigella's recipe is therefore a bit of a revelation, as the sweet potato replaces a lot of the cheese in volume but not flavour, bringing a surprising freshness to the dish. The vivid orange colour also lends a certain retro processed charm, but without the e-numbers. It's also much healthier for my daughter to eat.<br />
<br />
I've often put off making Nigella's recipe, as it is a complete faff with its bechamel sauce. Thankfully there is a super easy way to make macaroni cheese without a bechamel sauce by minimising the water you boil the pasta in, to concentrate the starches being released by the pasta which can then thicken the sauce naturally. You can also add evaporated milk rather than normal milk, as the proteins thicken more quickly. I also ditched Nigella's method of boiling the sweet potato and then reusing the water for the pasta to retain nutrients, and instead steamed the potatoes to keep all the nutrients in from the start. You could even try steaming the potatoes over the boiling pasta, I'm not sure how important agitation is to releasing the pasta starch and I'll experiment with that next time.<br />
<br />
So here is a cross-breed of Nigella's recipe with the starchy cooking water method, with some added steaming, and the results are honestly just as good while taking a fraction of the time and effort:<br />
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-a8608b64-7caf-6fcb-e151-f643cbb3892f"></span><br />
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<table style="border-collapse: collapse; border: none;"><colgroup><col width="178"></col><col width="446"></col></colgroup><tbody>
<tr style="height: 0pt;"><td style="border-bottom: solid #000000 1pt; border-left: solid #000000 1pt; border-right: solid #000000 1pt; border-top: solid #000000 1pt; padding: 5pt 5pt 5pt 5pt; vertical-align: top;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">500g sweet potato</span></span></div>
</td><td style="border-bottom: solid #000000 1pt; border-left: solid #000000 1pt; border-right: solid #000000 1pt; border-top: solid #000000 1pt; padding: 5pt 5pt 5pt 5pt; vertical-align: top;"><ul style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; list-style-type: disc; margin-left: -13.5pt; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Peel and cut into 2 cm pieces, steam for ten minutes</span></span></div>
</li>
<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; list-style-type: disc; margin-left: -13.5pt; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Mash with a fork.</span></span></div>
</li>
</ul>
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<tr style="height: 0pt;"><td style="border-bottom: solid #000000 1pt; border-left: solid #000000 1pt; border-right: solid #000000 1pt; border-top: solid #000000 1pt; padding: 5pt 5pt 5pt 5pt; vertical-align: top;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">300g macaroni-ish pasta</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">360ml evaporated milk (ie 2 small cans)</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">125g mature cheddar</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">1 tsp English mustard</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">0.25 tsp paprika</span></span></div>
</td><td style="border-bottom: solid #000000 1pt; border-left: solid #000000 1pt; border-right: solid #000000 1pt; border-top: solid #000000 1pt; padding: 5pt 5pt 5pt 5pt; vertical-align: top;"><ul style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; list-style-type: disc; margin-left: -13.5pt; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Put pasta in small medium saucepan, add just enough water to cover (some pasta peeking out is fine).</span></span></div>
</li>
<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; list-style-type: disc; margin-left: -13.5pt; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Bring to a boil over a high heat, stirring frequently. Cook for 2 minutes less than the pasta’s official cooking time.</span></span></div>
</li>
<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; list-style-type: disc; margin-left: -13.5pt; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Pour in the evaporated milk and bring back to the boil. </span></span></div>
</li>
<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; list-style-type: disc; margin-left: -13.5pt; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Reduce the heat, a</span><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">dd the cheddar, mustard and paprika and stir continuously until creamy (like, 2 minutes)</span><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></span></div>
</li>
</ul>
</td></tr>
<tr style="height: 0pt;"><td style="border-bottom: solid #000000 1pt; border-left: solid #000000 1pt; border-right: solid #000000 1pt; border-top: solid #000000 1pt; padding: 5pt 5pt 5pt 5pt; vertical-align: top;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">75g feta cheese</span></span></div>
</td><td style="border-bottom: solid #000000 1pt; border-left: solid #000000 1pt; border-right: solid #000000 1pt; border-top: solid #000000 1pt; padding: 5pt 5pt 5pt 5pt; vertical-align: top;"><ul style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; list-style-type: disc; margin-left: -13.5pt; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Stir the sweet potato and crumbled feta into the pasta.</span></span></div>
</li>
</ul>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I make this for my daughter, so just portion it up at this point for freezing once cool (it makes dozens' of meals, and a single portion cooks in the microwave from frozen in one minute). </span></span></i></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If you want to serve it as a meal to human adults, pour it into a </span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">lasagne dish, scatter with some extra cheddar and some shredded sage leaves, dust with paprika and bake at 200C for 30 minutes (or until bubbling and delicious). The sage makes the dish so much more delicious, but I've not bothered with this for my daughter as I'm not certain it would freeze well.</span></span></i></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-left: 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-left: 0pt;">
<b>Bonus Gousto update</b></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-left: 0pt;">
<i>Long term readers will have spotted I never got round to posting the results of my other two Gousto meals. Life took over somewhat as we flew 4,600 km away to California to have a baby and this then kept me busy for a year or so. Still, as I recall, they were rather hit an miss affairs, and one was especially disappointing as the instruction came at one point to stir chipotle paste into Heinz mayonnaise, which isn't really home cooking as I would recognise it.</i></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-left: 0pt;">
<i><br /></i></div>
Rick Bothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09754983389203055815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1352414913359476999.post-1999447124713448332015-07-15T14:25:00.002+01:002015-07-15T14:34:24.016+01:00Gousto #1: Harissa Chicken CurryOur first meal from the Gousto delivery box was Harissa Chicken Curry.<br />
<div>
<div>
<b><span style="color: #660000;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="color: #660000;">The ingredients</span></b></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The box provided just eight ingredients for this recipe:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EOslP5-Fqjo/VaY-iiNIDQI/AAAAAAAAFPc/Ox9ehaxfybU/s1600/IMG_20150714_184801-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EOslP5-Fqjo/VaY-iiNIDQI/AAAAAAAAFPc/Ox9ehaxfybU/s400/IMG_20150714_184801-2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><i>Top: lentils, harissa paste, a nub of ginger, a chicken stock cube. Bottom: filthy potatoes, two spring onions, diced chicken breast and some yoghurt.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div>
Along with salt, pepper and oil from the pantry, this was everything I needed to make the meal, and all in the correct volume. I found it strangely satisfying to have no leftover ingredients at the end, even though one of my favourite things about cooking is looking in the fridge and coming up with ideas to use up all of the nubs and stubs of yesterday's leftovers (after all, I did come-of-age in the <i>Ready Steady Cook</i> epoch of man). </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It was all organised very well. Really, the only downside was the childish wackywriting Gousto uses to signify it is an honest and simple brand. I'm beginning to find this marketing technique a bit wearying after 15 years (Innocent Smoothies kicked off the trend in 1999). So we inevitably had ingredients labelled with quirky names like 'gorgeous ginger', 'poh-tay-to poh-tar-to' and 'spread-your-legs spring onions', which didn't raise much of a smile and really only made it harder to find what I needed when I was delving through all of the other ingredients in the box.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b><span style="color: #660000;">The recipe</span></b></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The recipe card was very easy to follow: </div>
<div>
<ol>
<li>Chop and fry the potatoes - sounds easy, but the potatoes kept sticking to the pot, and then flying off across the kitchen when I tried to loosen them... I assumed we weren't meant to brown the potatoes. Certainly there was no mention of that.</li>
<li>Add the chicken and some paste and fry off - you're supposed to fry until brown, but the chicken was quite soggy from sitting in its own juices in a plastic bag for several days so I just settled for white.</li>
<li>Add the lentils, grated ginger, seasoning, half the chopped spring onion whites, the stock cube dissolved in half a liter of water, the rest of the paste and a dollop of yoghurt and simmer until delicious - they recommended 7 minutes, I ended up at closer to 10 for the potatoes to be done.</li>
<li>Serve with the rest of the yoghurt - seasoned with salt, pepper and the rest of the spring onion whites - and sprinkle with spring onion greens.</li>
</ol>
</div>
<div>
It was fairly foolproof really, and I'm fairly certain this recipe would work well if you just put all the ingredients (bar the garnish) raw and cold into the pot, brought to a simmer for 15 minutes and then served. Browning the chicken really achieves next to nothing in terms of flavour when also paired with the chicken stock and harissa paste, while the frying of the potatoes might take a few minutes off the simmering time but otherwise had little discernible effect.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I followed the recipe to the letter and it took 30 minutes from start to finish, rather than the advertised 15, but this is still pretty quick dish to prepare and frankly only salad takes 15 minutes.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zdBoVLyxkRU/VaZPXg4mkWI/AAAAAAAAFP4/fbkYjYDOXjI/s1600/IMG_20150714_192023-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zdBoVLyxkRU/VaZPXg4mkWI/AAAAAAAAFP4/fbkYjYDOXjI/s320/IMG_20150714_192023-2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Alas, I forgot to scatter spring onion greens randomly across<br />the table top, as shown in the photo accompanying the recipe</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<b><span style="color: #660000;">The taste</span></b></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The curry was very nice indeed - and my husband declared it thoroughly delicious - so this is something I'll probably make again. It's very good comfort good, possibly better suited to autumn and winter, and I think the only changes I'd make would be to swap the chicken out for some veg or butterbeans (the chicken didn't add much, in terms of flavour, and I'm loathe to slaughter another animal just to provide easy protein), and also perhaps finish with a splash of lemon juice or wine vinegar to brighten.</div>
<div>
<br />
It was also a generous portion, I'd say the meal for 2 would easily stretch to feed three.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
I'd score this meal 8 out of 10, if assessed as a homely, work night meal.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #660000;"><b>Value for money</b></span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I wondered how much this meal would cost if I just bought the ingredients via Ocado, which has all the convenience of home delivery but would not offer the advantage of eliminating leftover ingredients. Still, a jar of harissa can sit happily in the fridge for the next meal, while lentils, potatoes, ginger and spring onions can always find later use in the weeks and months to follow.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
To buy these ingredients and then throw away all of the leftovers would cost £11.74, which actually makes Gousto cheaper than Ocado. Even if I take a conservative estimate of what I might use up in other dishes (with some throw-away of random off-cuts - for example, I rarely use a whole hand of ginger) it comes to £7.09 in total, which compares very well to Gousto's £5 per portion (which also offers extra advantages such as not needing to plan ahead or think of new dishes to make).</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
That said, the chicken accounts for a lot of the cost. If I replaced the poultry with butterbeans - as I probably would, for sake of my own health and that of the chicken - we're looking at £2 a portion. Which, as luck would have it, is about the price of this meal once the discount voucher used.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b><span style="color: #660000;">Conclusions...</span></b></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Would I recommend Gousto? I think I'll need to try the remaining recipes before I decide. I wouldn't recommend it to enthusiastic and experimental home cooks, nor to harried workers with no time for cooking (Gousto doesn't really meet the needs of either of those). However, it's certainly looking promising for those who like to cook - or more to the point, who like to eat homecooked food - but don't have any time to think about what they actually want to eat.<br />
<br />
I suspect when my daughter is born next month, that latter group might start to include me...</div>
</div>
Rick Bothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09754983389203055815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1352414913359476999.post-38157789967708081392015-07-13T10:21:00.003+01:002015-07-13T10:21:52.972+01:00Let the Gousto Experiment Commence<div>
I found a £25 gift voucher in my Amazon delivery last week, for something called 'Gousto'. It was a slow enough afternoon and a high enough discount to make me want to go find out what Gousto actually is.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It transpires Gousto is Timo and James, two humans on Homeworld who'll send you a box of ingredients portioned out for the various recipes you select, along with recipe cards so you can put the food back together like in the photos. At least, that's what they say.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
You can order from around ten possible meals each week, so I ended up picking two portions each of this lot:</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fFUVAm66BMk/VZ6S2RuqjNI/AAAAAAAAFMY/r-UDQo9_RWg/s1600/gousto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="157" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fFUVAm66BMk/VZ6S2RuqjNI/AAAAAAAAFMY/r-UDQo9_RWg/s400/gousto.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Images courtesy of Gousto.co.uk, your one stop shop for Gousto orders</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
Well, I thought £25 off seemed like it would be next to free, but I still had to pay £12.99 on top. I wouldn't ordinarily be willing to pay £35 for six home cooked meals, but the discount made it only £2 around per portion which definitely made it worth a try. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The food parcel was delivered today. It didn't quite look the like the overflowing cardboard cornucopia pictured on the website, but I recognise it's hard to 'style' two spring onions, a yoghurt pot and a couple of buns (the rest was wrapped up in sheep's wool to keep it cool).<br />
<br />
I'll update this blog later in the week so you can see if the meals turned out anything like in the pictures. Unfortunately I don't have any terracotta flowerpots to serve my harissa chicken curry in, and my white-washed 18th century trestle table is down the dry cleaners at the moment, but I will struggle through as best I can. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Rick Bothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09754983389203055815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1352414913359476999.post-67071208123954937382015-02-04T12:44:00.002+00:002015-02-04T13:24:46.281+00:00How to separate an egg<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IdF2RrOQojw/VNIT7sUd7tI/AAAAAAAAD1I/FMbPAFi0kpY/s1600/ID-10039892.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IdF2RrOQojw/VNIT7sUd7tI/AAAAAAAAD1I/FMbPAFi0kpY/s1600/ID-10039892.jpg" height="200" width="132" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An egg, relaxing at <br />
home yesterday</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
I use a method of separating eggs which is effortless and requires no clean-up, and yet searching online I can't see anyone else mentioning it. This is baffling. A 'How To Separate Eggs' video I watched during my research recommended the use of funnels, or the vacuum from a compressed soda bottle, or running the egg through your hands. Euw, no thanks. My method means you just pour it out like you'd pour out milk, and then move on.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
And I've never had a yolk break and mix in. Just pour it straight into your recipe.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div>
I feel a bit like the first monkey to learn how to wash fruit in the river, then all the other monkeys see him and copy and it spreads like wildfire through the savannah. I really hope this becomes the dominant egg separating method by 2025. If that is all I achieve in life, and when I die in 2082 everyone on the savannah is cracking eggs the Rick Bot way, it will still truly have been a live worth living. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So:</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li><b>Step 1: </b>Crack the pointy end of the egg, just like you would normally crack the side.</li>
<li><b>Step 2:</b> Peel open the top slightly, like you would normally peel open the side... only you get a much smaller hole this way.</li>
<li><b>Step 3:</b> Pour the egg white into your bowl, and the yellow will stay behind.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
That's it.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
You can stick the egg yolks in the fridge in their shells until you need them, if you like. The antibacterial effects of the eggshell will probably* keep it well protected for a few days (unless you live in America, where the antibacterial effects of the shell are all scrubbed off by law).<br />
<br />
<i>*Here, 'probably' should be regarded as an adequate legal defence in any resulting homicide investigations.</i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>ALSO, A BONUS EGG THOUGHT:</b></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Why are most people not steaming their eggs? Boiling is so 20th century. Stick them in a steamer for however long you would normally boil them. They never crack when they're cooking - as there's no jostling in the water - and they're much easier to peel. I didn't invent this one, but I am eager to convert anyone I meet who cares.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This is my first food blog post in over 5 years. I rather enjoyed it. See you in 2020 - hopefully by then I'll have a new method for peeling fruit.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Attribution: photograph of an egg by 'digitalart', courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net, largely because I was too busy cracking eggs to take a photo. I recommend freedigitalphotos.net for all of your egg photo needs. </span></i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Rick Bothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09754983389203055815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1352414913359476999.post-19543621762830800272015-01-06T13:02:00.000+00:002015-02-04T13:12:02.466+00:00Christmas was a boar<div>
I needed to make Christmas dinner for six this year, and wanted to keep it as simple as possible. Last year I did the whole turkey, roast potatoes, red cabbage, spouts with chestnuts malarky that seems to be expected. Even using Mary Berry’s superb guidance (on the whole, prepare and cook everything you can in advance – including par-roasting the potatoes), it was still an incredible faff with countless pots and pans and dishes and a real drama to get everything warm to the table on time. This year I wanted zero effort.</div>
<br />
The solution was a wild boar ragu with papardelle pasta. The ragu could be prepared a few days in advance (and, indeed, only improved with flavour) and is sufficiently unusual to look like I was making an effort, while the pasta was freshly made but shop-bought, and just cooked in boiling water for three minutes. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MmgxQNdk7o4/VNIZq2DZuZI/AAAAAAAAD1Y/Z5K8eU9HcqA/s1600/ID-100164887.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MmgxQNdk7o4/VNIZq2DZuZI/AAAAAAAAD1Y/Z5K8eU9HcqA/s1600/ID-100164887.jpg" height="155" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas dinner.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I’ve been eager to make a boar ragu for years now, after a long autumnal holiday in a very rainy Tuscany where there was little to do but sit inside (and little local, seasonal food aside from boar).This dish also has another unintended consequence – simmered as it is in red wine and spices, throughout its long, slow cooking time the entire kitchen is enfused with a Christmassy fug of mulled wine. What could be more evocative of Christmas?<br />
<br />
There are thousands of wild boar ragu recipes lurking out there on the internet, but so much about cookery these days seems to be about over-complicating the very simple. Good cooking should be simple at heart, so I stripped the recipes down and combined a mix of ideas to come up with the very easiest recipe I could. I’m not very into reducing down tomatoes when cartons of passata cost less than a pound, and I adapted the recipe to work with Tim Wilson’s oven-roast approach to stews, which has forever proven a more effortless way to make any stew, chili or ragu (and also minimises the washing up). <br />
<br />
I swear, apart from ensuring you're organised enough to remember to put together the marinade 12 hours before you want to cook (and ideally several days before you want to eat it), this is utterly the simplest boar ragu recipe I’ve seen while also being a total winner with my husband and in-laws on Christmas Day.<br />
<br />
<div>
</div>
<div>
The recipe below makes enough for six pretty hungry people.</div>
<div>
</div>
<strong><br /></strong>
<strong>1. Put the meat in to marinate
</strong><br />
Choose your boar meat – I used leg, but shoulder is probably just as good – and cut off any large lumps of fat and skin (smaller bits of fat are fine, they will vanish into the finished sauce, but no need to make it too greasy). Cut the meat into bit chunks – say a couple of inches square – then put into a glass bowl with the wine and aromatics, stir, cover and chill for at least twelve hours.<br />
<br />
Here are the quantities I used: <br />
<ul>
<li>1.5kg boar meat (or about 3 pounds) – prepared as above</li>
<li>A bottle of cheap Chianti</li>
<li>300ml of cold water</li>
<li>1 or 2 large onions (or 3-4 small ones), chopped up smallish</li>
<li>2 tablespoons of dried juniper berries, crushed lightly to loosen but whole</li>
<li>1.5 teaspoons peppercorns, crushed lightly to loosen but whole</li>
<li>6 large bay leaves</li>
<li>3 sprigs of rosemary </li>
</ul>
<div>
That all sounds like a faff to pull together, but it’s really very easy. The precise volumes of each aromatic matter very little so don’t get anxious about that. Feel free to add a pinch more of your favourites.</div>
<div>
</div>
<strong>2. Twelve hours later, cook the meat</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<div>
</div>
<div>
Put the oven on to 180C, then drain the meat in a colandar, catching the marinade in a bowl for later use. Pick out the meat and dry it off with kitchen paper. It will now be pink and squishy and look fairly repellent. Have a lot of kitchen paper to hand, this is messy business.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
Coat the bottom of a large, deep roasting tray in light olive oil – just a series of good glugs – warm briefly in the oven then tip in the meat, stir to coat the meat and then roast for 15-20 minutes in the oven until browned all over. You may wish to stir mid-way to keep things moving.</div>
<div>
</div>
Remove from the oven and add the following, in this order:<br />
<ul>
<li>1-2 tablespoons of plain flour – sprinkle over the meat, and stir well</li>
<li>2 cans of chopped tomatoes</li>
<li>Half a small carton of passata – just glug it out by feel, then stir well again. </li>
<li>The marinade, with all of the aromatics included – and give it a good stir again</li>
</ul>
<div>
Take a piece of baking parchment or grease proof paper slightly larger than the roasting tin and scrunch it up, then unfold and lay across the surface of the food (pushing down so it is in contact - chefs call this a cartouche but that seems a little pretentious). Then seal the whole tin with wide foil so no steam can escape and return to the oven for about an hour an a half to braise. Remove the coverings and leave in the oven for another half hour to reduce the sauce down.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
</div>
<strong>3. Shred the meat and finish the sauce</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<div>
</div>
<div>
Pick all of the large lumps of meat out from the juices and shred on a chopping board – I did this with a knife and fork, roughly chopping and tearing to leave good texture. <br />
<br /></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
If the sauce still looks a bit thin then reduce it down a little: leave it bubbling on the stove top while you shred the meat (although of course it will all thicken when you return the shredded meat to the sauce).<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
Remove the rosemary stalks and bayleaves from the sauce, put the meat back in, season to your taste with lots of salt and pepper (it can take a lot of salt, and mellows when it is resting, but you can add more later if you want to play it safe), stir through and then let cool, chill and store for at least a day in a covered container to mull over.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<strong>4. Shortly before you want to eat, assemble</strong></div>
<strong></strong><br />
<div>
</div>
<div>
Put the sauce to warm in a saucepan, cook your papardelle in another pan. Papardelle is just really wide tagliatelli, so use that if you can’t get papardelle. You can make your own pasta if you care enough about that sort of thing, althought the fresh stuff I got wrapped in paper from Waitrose was delicious.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
</div>
<strong>5. An optional garnish, if you don’t mind washing an extra pan</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<div>
</div>
<div>
At this stage I had a third pan going, but only because I really wanted the dish to be infused with the delicious taste of rosemary, which is how I remembered it tasting when I dined alone one evening at the 14th century La Cisterna hotel in San Gimignano.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
</div>
I gently warmed some olive oil in a frying pan and added the leaves from about three sprigs of rosemary to cook through and mellow in the oil. This made a not-especially fresh but very aromatic garnish, in a recipe where coriander or parsley wouldn’t really work.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YZVFN1TChEk/VNIZ1XvdHwI/AAAAAAAAD1g/tPIKDjG0pwI/s1600/ID-100140333.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YZVFN1TChEk/VNIZ1XvdHwI/AAAAAAAAD1g/tPIKDjG0pwI/s1600/ID-100140333.jpg" height="132" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I couldn't eat a whole one.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<strong>6. A fresh crisp salad, should you need one</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<div>
</div>
<div>
The sauce and pasta makes a great dish, but I also made a simple salad to add crunch and freshness to an otherwise soft and rich meal:</div>
<ul>
<li>Green apples – granny smiths, cored and sliced super-thin and dipped in water with a squeeze of lemon to stop them browning</li>
<li>Fennel – slice super-thin with a bread knife</li>
<li>Walnuts – chopped into lumps</li>
<li>Watercress – for bulk</li>
<li>Fennel fronds – for decorations</li>
</ul>
Some might like to add a dressing to all of that, but everything else was wet enough already and I didn't want to mess with the freshness. Squeeze on some lemon if you must.<br />
<br />
So serve all that up at the kitchen table on any cool day of the year, the whole room embraced in a cloud of mulled wine, and I defy you not to think it's Christmas.<br />
<br />
<br />
<i style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.7999992370605px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Attribution: photograph of boars by 'anakkml', courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net. I recommend freedigitalphotos.net for all of your boar photo needs. </span></i>Rick Bothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09754983389203055815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1352414913359476999.post-61174300305506647302010-05-08T18:08:00.000+01:002010-05-08T20:37:40.356+01:00Eggs Haemoglobin<a href="http://s1013.photobucket.com/albums/af251/richiau/Toast%20etc/?action=view&current=04-eggsinyogurt.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i1013.photobucket.com/albums/af251/richiau/Toast%20etc/04-eggsinyogurt.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Eggs <span style="font-style: italic;">modifier</span> always makes a splendid weekend brunch, whichever of the species you happen to choose. Eggs Benedict started it all of course, spawning such hamless variations as Eggs Florentine (spinach), Royal (smoked salmon), Neptune (tuna) and that mass-produced, bastard half-cousin Eggs McMuffin. Whatever you stick between the egg and the toasted muffin, it generally turns out pretty superb.<br /><br />I decided to try adding my own variation to the canon, and looked to the traditional British fried breakfast to find the ideal filling: black pudding. This was not mere fancy, my family has the stuff in its blood. As a wee boy, my grandfather used to make his pocket money mixing black pudding up in the back of the butcher's shop, stirring the giant cauldren of boiling blood and fat while the butcher tossed in the oats and spices, waiting for the mix to congeal. As childhood memories go, not exactly <span style="font-style: italic;">Cider With Rosie</span>.<br /><br />I'd planned on buying a full black pudding link, chopping it into big cubes and making a fashionable tower of fried bloody goodness. Unfortunately, I got to Waitrose too late and they only had the wider individual slices of Bury pudding left, languishing in their little plastic packets in the bottom of the chiller cabinet . I soon cheered up when I realised the slices were almost the exact same size as the muffins. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Clearly, Eggs Haemoglobin was simply meant to be.</span><br /><br /><a href="http://s1013.photobucket.com/albums/af251/richiau/Toast%20etc/?action=view&current=04-mustard.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i1013.photobucket.com/albums/af251/richiau/Toast%20etc/04-mustard.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I used super-healthy wholemeal muffins for this dish, and in that vein my hollandaise sauce also needs particular mention: while one ideally wants the blood pudding congealed, this is not true of the blood pumping through one's arteries. Silky and decadently rich as real hollandaise may be, it is nevertheless an emulsion of eggs and clarified butter and so about as healthy as smoking a carton of filterless Gauloises for breakfast. As this was meant to be hangover recovery food, an alternative was necessary.<br /><br /><span>My version of the hollandaise uses</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> a savoury custard made from virtually fat-free yoghurt</span>, and so the science is completely different to the traditional emulsion of fats: egg yolks are whisked into the yoghurt and then slowly heated together in a bain-marie, allowing the yolks to form a network of proteins which holds the rest of the ingredients together. Lemon juice is added to speed up the formation of the protein strands, while the bain-marie ensures the sauce isn't overheated, cooking it slowly to achieve a thicker and more velvety texture.<br /><br />I whisked a 500ml pot of plain yoghurt with three egg yolks and the juice from half a lemon, then cooked it in the bain-marie for about twenty minutes. <span style="font-weight: bold;">This is a great recipe for the lazy cook</span> as it doesn't need the constant and crucial agitation of a real hollandaise. I took the rubbish out, made some tea and emptied the dishwasher while it was cooking, whisking perhaps every three minutes just to evenly distribute the heat.<br /><br />The sauce has thickened when it evenly coats the back of a metal spoon, and at this point I added another egg yolk and a big knob of butter, whisking them into the warm sauce to make it richer and more glossy. A teaspoon of dijon mustard and plenty of salt and pepper finished the sauce, which went into the fridge overnight. This is perhaps the most significant difference between a custard hollandaise and the real thing: <span style="font-weight: bold;">letting real hollandaise cool down is a disaster</span>, allowing it to split and spoil, which generally means cooking the whole thing laboriously from scratch on the day. Putting my version in the fridge only improved the flavour, taking the bite out of the mustard and softening the taste of salt to let the lemon juice stand out. Better yet, in the morning I only needed to heat it through in a pan and pour.<br /><br /><a href="http://s1013.photobucket.com/albums/af251/richiau/Toast%20etc/?action=view&current=04-eggshaemaglobin.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i1013.photobucket.com/albums/af251/richiau/Toast%20etc/04-eggshaemaglobin.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Hungover, a cup of coffee in one hand, I toasted the muffins, fried the black pudding, poached the eggs and assembled the lot on plates before spooning over the warm sauce. I dropped some cherry tomatoes in the frying pan while things were cooking, letting them blister on the bases and cooking through their juices, which made a refreshing and tasty accompaniment.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">This dish is totally recommended. </span>The mustard beautifully matched the earthiness of the black pudding, and while the sauce lacked the silky mouth-feel of a full-fat hollandaise, in the trade-off we got a superbly light sauce with a fabulous lemony bite, and perhaps three years saved on our lifespan.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">(I should add that hollandaise sauce can also mask a thousand sins. My eggs poached poorly and came out flat and straggly, but still ended up looking most jolly wrapped up in their little yellow blankets, and of course tasted fabulous to boot).</span>Rick Bothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09754983389203055815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1352414913359476999.post-4714135846865509662010-05-04T17:40:00.000+01:002010-05-08T18:01:24.117+01:00Vanilla from the rainforests of Glasgow<a href="http://s1013.photobucket.com/albums/af251/richiau/Toast%20etc/?action=view&current=03-botanicgardens.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i1013.photobucket.com/albums/af251/richiau/Toast%20etc/03-botanicgardens.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Did you know that the <span style="font-weight: bold;">vanilla pod grows on an orchid</span>? I had no clue until we stumbled into the orchid house at the Glasgow Botanic Gardens and saw them for ourselves. Quite plain things they were, straggly grey pods hidden behind the flamingo-like glories of its sister breeds. Still, they’re the only orchids which have a popular flavour of ice cream named after them so I guess they’ve still doing okay for themselves.<br /><br />A small yellowing sign explained that vanilla flavouring is mostly produced synthetically from wood pulp these days, which is the last horrifying discovery that will put me off cheap vanilla ice cream forever. What could be more heavenly than a thick mix of cream, sugar and the nectar from an orchid pod? And what could be further removed from that than a tub of commercially produced ice cream - a thick combination of vegetable oils, fatty acid emulsifiers and sugar, whipped up with air, stabilised with seaweed extract and then flavoured with extract of wood pulp?<br /><br />Seeing vanilla growing fresh in the Botanic Gardens resonated nicely with our lunch at <a href="http://www.ubiquitouschip.co.uk/"> <span style="font-weight: bold;">The Ubiquitous Chip</span></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">, a Glaswegian institution on Ashton Lane</span> where we were seated in a glass-roofed courtyard festooned with tropical plants and vines, and where we were served a splendid starter of scallops with black pudding sauce, all drizzled with a light vanilla oil. I think of vanilla as a sweet and flowery scent, but here it added a rounded earthiness which complemented the delicate scallops perfectly. And what wonderful scallops too: their fat roe sweet, soft and caramelised, the bodies so lightly cooked as to be nicely moist inside, the fishy cousins of a chocolate truffle. I would only have changed the black pudding sauce. Less a sauce and more a streak of cat vomit, it tasted lovely but did nothing for the eye. A nice crispy bit of black pudding might have varied the textures a bit too.<br /><br /><a href="http://s1013.photobucket.com/albums/af251/richiau/Toast%20etc/?action=view&current=03-scallops.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i1013.photobucket.com/albums/af251/richiau/Toast%20etc/03-scallops.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The Ubiquitous Chip has been around since the 1970s and proudly claims to have changed Glaswegian eating habits forever, championing good and local ingredients at a time when processed foods and white carbs were the fashion. Crucially, it also once claimed to be the only restaurant in Scotland not to serve chips, although this is one political stance they have abandoned - as the platters of fish and chips so popular on table 103 demonstrated.<br /><br />The Chip has also served as a backdrop to my boyfriend’s life: his parents dined here when they were courting, he brought them back to celebrate his graduation, and here we were again for a Bank Holiday lunch to celebrate his new job.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">A celebration must mean only one foodstuff: steak</span>. The up-market Argentinian chains may have captured the London market with their romantic tales of gauchos herding steers across the pampas, but in Scotland they still know that the best steaks come from the Angus breeds plodding around the soggy Highlands. My rare Aberdeen angus fillet was seared and peppery on the outside and soft and almost mousse-like inside. Paul took his medium, which came thiner, tougher and flavoured throughout with black pepper. We each preferred our own, which is precisely as it should be.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Pudding was a disappointment.</span> Brown bread ice-cream has been a classic since lucky school boys took one last tea at Gunters before going up to boarding school, but The Chip’s house version, Caledonian oatmeal ice-cream, hit very far wide of the mark. The little crumby nuggets should have been burned and sweet – a sort of poor man’s praline, a decadent surprise cutting through the blandness of the cream – but the oatmeal here was merely bland and chewy, surprising in the same way one might feel upon finding a fly in the jam.<br /><br />The lemon and rosemary pudding – a tight little ball of sticky sponge rich with egg yolks and sugar – might have saved the day, had it not been for the complete and utter lack of any rosemary in the dish. The best part of pudding thus proved to be a single ginger crisp served on the side, which was so fabulously rich and toasty I would order the entire dessert again just to taste it.<br /><br /><a href="http://s1013.photobucket.com/albums/af251/richiau/Toast%20etc/?action=view&current=03-oatmealicecream.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i1013.photobucket.com/albums/af251/richiau/Toast%20etc/03-oatmealicecream.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I usually come away from a restaurant determined to try making at least one of the dishes on the menu, but I think in this case I’ll go off piste and try inventing my own oaty ice cream, inspired by The Chip but based on something closer to Gunters. My aim was to create a real, thick and delicious oaty ice cream. Elevated from the bland with some extract of orchid, and as bereft of wood pulp, chewy oatmeal and seaweed extract as anything I’ve ever made.<br /><br />Mix around two cups of Scottish rolled oats with one cup of brown sugar and a cup of ground almonds, lay them out on a lined baking tray and place under a hot grill until golden. I found they needed a lot of mixing to get them evenly brown.<br /><br />Once the oats have started to cool, whisk up three eggs whites until stiff and then turn into a glossy meringue by gradually adding half cup of ordinary sugar (I use unrefined and unbleached castor, but you can consult your own conscience). Set aside and whip up a cup and three quarters of double cream, whisk in the egg yolks and a few drops of <span style="font-weight: bold;">vanilla extract (not essense or flavouring or anything else bashed out of wood pulp – see above)</span>, then fold the cream into the meringue along with the oats.<br /><br />Place in an ice cream maker and churn ... or if you don’t have an ice cream maker, stick in a tub and freeze until solid. The egg whites do most of the hard work for you but it won’t be quite so nice.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The verdict? </span>Really quite splendid, and so much nuttier and more flavoursome than that of The Ubiquitous Chip.Rick Bothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09754983389203055815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1352414913359476999.post-33718958862271223192010-04-28T17:08:00.000+01:002010-05-08T20:42:56.425+01:00Taking the pistachio<a href="http://s1013.photobucket.com/albums/af251/richiau/Toast%20etc/?action=view&current=02-pistachios.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i1013.photobucket.com/albums/af251/richiau/Toast%20etc/02-pistachios.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We're going up to Glasgow for the long weekend – a five hour train trek instead of the usual fifty minute hop by plane, a choice informed by fear the Icelandic volcano might belch again – and I figured a batch of biscuits might help the journey pass more quickly.<br /><br />One problem with experimenting with cakes and puddings is that I usually end up with far more sweet stuff than the two of us can ever get round to eating (or worse, which we do eat, prompting emergency trips to the gym). For this reason I decided to make some<span style="font-weight: bold;"> Shortbread Pistachio biscuits from the Ottolenghi cook book</span>, which like supermarket cookie dough is rolled into a long sausage so you can slice off the cookies you need and freeze the rest of the roll for future baking.<br /><br /><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.ottolenghi.co.uk/locations/islington/">Ottolenghi </a><span style="font-weight: bold;">on Upper Street</span> is one of my absolute favourite restaurants in London. Sitting at the long communal table running down the middle of the room, the waiter brings plate after plate of deceptively simple dishes - saffron flavoured this, full and meaty that - to share and enthuse over with friends. Yet however wonderful the main courses may be, one eye is always on the front window where a mountain of cakes and puddings patiently waits. The Ottolenghi cook book is precisely the same - I nod and approve of the savoury offerings, but when it comes to cooking I turn straight to the last chapter to find the perfect cake recipe.<br /><br />The basic dough is made by mixing 200g butter, 25g ground rice, 240g plain flour, 35g icing sugar and then a pinch of salt and the ground seeds of eight cardamom pods. This took longer than I imagined, the butter resolutely refusing to mix into the dry ingredients, and at times I thought it would never get there. However, eventually it all suddenly sprang together in the mixer, forming a tight smooth cookie dough.<br /><br />The dough is then rolled into a long sausage about an inch or so wide, wrapped in clingfilm and refridgerated for a half hour to firm up, before being painted with a beaten egg, rolled in finely chopped pistachio nuts and then refridgerated for another half hour.<br /><br /><a href="http://s1013.photobucket.com/albums/af251/richiau/Toast%20etc/?action=view&current=02-biscuitroll.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i1013.photobucket.com/albums/af251/richiau/Toast%20etc/02-biscuitroll.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /></a><br /><br />When you’re ready to eat, chop off however many biscuits you need, sprinkle with vanilla sugar and bake for twenty minutes at 150 degrees.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">They came out brittle and crumby</span>, the nuts nicely toasted and flavoursome. Still, there seemed to be something slightly missing. Shortbread is made by significantly increasing the volume of fats to wheat, so the butter coats the particles of flour and stops them from forming the glutenous proteins which would otherwise hold the biscuit together (you’ll note there is far more fat – or shortening – in these biscuits than in the <a href="http://toastetc.blogspot.com/2010/04/humble-doris-sponge-cake.html">Doris sponge </a>I cooked last week). And here was the problem: the shortbread was <i>so</i> short that the biscuit fell apart into tight angular crumbs in my mouth. Not exactly the sort of comforting biscuit I'd been hoping for.<br /><br />I think I’ll leave the rest of the biscuit dough in the freezer until June and serve them with a nice soothing gooseberry fool – something light and whipped to take the edge off the crumbs, and tart and fruity to bite through the fattiness – and consider making a proper biscuit laced with pistachios another day. Something crisp on the outside, chewy in the middle and studded with fabulous green nuts. Something the way a biscuit should be.Rick Bothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09754983389203055815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1352414913359476999.post-4676710049038678872010-04-19T16:33:00.000+01:002010-05-10T12:48:04.849+01:00A humble Doris sponge cake<a href="http://s1013.photobucket.com/albums/af251/richiau/Toast%20etc/?action=view&current=01-doris.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i1013.photobucket.com/albums/af251/richiau/Toast%20etc/01-doris.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />If I had a time machine I would go back to 1819 and urge the King to name his newborn child Doris. The impact two centuries later would be pervasive: a commuter could arrive at London Doris Station, walk up Doris Street to Westminster Palace and perhaps pause to admire the skill of the Dorians who carved the building from stone over a century ago. Stopping to buy a coffee, he might even treat himself to a piece of Doris sponge cake.<br /><br />Just as Queen Victoria ruled over an age of innovation and change, Victoria sponge is the cake which started it all and so is the only logical place to start my <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Great Cake Project</span>. From the humble Victoria sponge all other cakes can be derived: add lemon zest and steep in syrup and you have lemon drizzle cake; replace some flour with ground almonds and ginger and you have a rich and sticky ginger cake; add cocoa, cream and cherries and you’re better than halfway to a Black Forest Gateau.<br /><br />Of course, this is why Victoria sponge also has such a poor reputation. The Victoria sponge is precisely as mundane as its namesake was not. It’s really nothing more than a blank canvas, yearning to be made far more interesting. No one will ever peer into a loaded cake counter and decide to skip the dazzling chocolate confections in favour of a plain lump of yellow sponge cake. Yet, in an age where most food strives to be simple and honest, can there be anything more desirable than a minimalistic mix of butter, flour, eggs and sugar? It was my duty to find out.<br /><br /><a href="http://s1013.photobucket.com/albums/af251/richiau/Toast%20etc/?action=view&current=01-egg.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i1013.photobucket.com/albums/af251/richiau/Toast%20etc/01-egg.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I haven’t made a Victoria sponge since I was a child – indeed possibly not even then, as adding a dash of cocoa or a handful of glace cherries has always been too tempting – but the recipe is hard to forget: take equal weights of sugar, butter, flour and eggs, combine them into a light batter and bake.<br /><br />About four eggs should do it for a decent sized cake, and once you've weighed them in their shells you can measure out everything else to match. The ingredients should all be at room temperature to ensure a soft and happy mix, and of course I used self-raising flour because I was born in the 1970s and am addicted to convenience.<br /><br />The process of making the sponge batter is <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">a three-step science lesson in how to treat any cake</span> (I’m talking hand-beating here – using a KitchenAid makes most of this obsolete):<br /><ul><li>Beat the sugar and butter together to create a highly aerated mix of fat and sugar. It’s the bubbles you create at this stage which will expand in the oven to make the cake light and spongy, so don’t stint on this step. It’s also a good idea to taste the mix at this point – this perfect and gloopy combination of fat and sugars is precisely what the primeval mind craves, triggering two major pleasure sensors in your brain at the same time. Just make sure there’s enough left in the bowl to finish the cake.</li></ul><ul><li>Beat the eggs in one-by-one to blend in the yolks, a powerful emulsifier that's going to keep your entire cake together. Fat and water are not natrual friends and the cake would otherwise separate. Beat the yolk through and you're creating a new emulsification in which the fat (which holds the air bubbles which lighten your cake) is evenly distributed through the rest of the structure. The egg white serves a seperate function, capturing more air bubbles in the batter and then, in the oven, forming long tight protein bonds which will help hold the whole cake together. The more eggs you add, the softer and richer the cake will be - the egg yolks also coat the flour particles and stop glutenous proteins forming that would dry out the cake.</li></ul><ul><li>Sieve the flour and fold gently into the mix with a metal spoon. Sieving helps to seperate out the individual flour particles and also mixes air into the flour. It's important to be gentle folding this into the batter as it's easy at this stage to bash out the little air pockets we've spent so long creating back out of the mix. Gentle as we are, it's also essential that the flour is distributed fully throughout the batter as it is the flour's glutens and starch which will react with the moisture in the cake and heat of the oven to form a strong framework within which the moist and airy parts of the cake will sit.<br /></li></ul><br /><a href="http://s1013.photobucket.com/albums/af251/richiau/Toast%20etc/?action=view&current=01-cake.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i1013.photobucket.com/albums/af251/richiau/Toast%20etc/01-cake.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Yikes.</span> <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Enough science, how was the cake?</span> Well, baked in two tins at 180 degrees for twenty minutes then sandwiched around raspberry jam and whipped cream, it was utterly delightful. It's hard to beat a freshly baked cake, and the soft, crumby, almost mundanely plain cake was a fabulous vehicle for the rich cream and (as the picture may suggest...) vast flood of raspberry jam. We ate two slices on the day and I took the rest into work. It was hoovered up before we even got to elevenses.<br /><br />I don't know if I'll ever make a cake as simple and plain as this again, but at least I've confirmed that perhaps Good Queen Doris was right to lend it her name.Rick Bothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09754983389203055815noreply@blogger.com0