Blame it on the pav-a-lova

Sometimes I inexplicably get songs running round my head. This would be fine, except it goes on for days and days and it seems nothing will cure it. I can even hunt out the song, listen to it, and still my brain doesn't seem satisfied.

Which is how I came to be singing "blame it on the pa-va-lova" to the tune of "blame it on the bossa nova" which incidentally I only know because of watching this.

Why pavlova? Because this week I made some ice cream and decided that it would be a wonderful excuse to pile some cream, passion fruit and passion fruit curd on top of a cloud of crispy-on-the-outside mallow-in-the-middle meringue.

Because really, who needs and excuse for this super-sweet fat free (ahem, we're ignoring the cream, alright?) fluffy cloud of summery deliciousness? Not me. Especially as it means I can dance around the kitchen in my dressing gown singing "blame it on the pa-va-lova" at the top of my voice!

There's only one problem really. Unless you are super talented, it can be hard to make pavlova photogenic. Or perhaps it's just me? But seriously, this baby did not want it's picture taken. The light was all wrong, the cream kept trying to leap off the top, and all in all it just wasn't having it. So I've dolled it up with poladriod in the hope that you will trust me that it's a lovely idea to make this for your next summer gathering. I scaled down my recipe to make me feel less guilty about eating all that cream and curd for four days in a row. As a result this recipe makes a nice size pavlova for four servings. I'm sure it's not the best in the world, but it's easy and quick and I think it tastes lovely after a salad with a chilled glass of white wine.

Passionate Pavlova - Serves four.

2 large egg whites
250g caster sugar
1 tsp cornflour
1/2 tsp lemon juice

2 very ripe passionfruit
100ml double cream
3 tbsp passion fruit (or lemon) curd

Preheat the oven to 180C. Line a baking sheet with parchment. 

Whip the egg whites until peaks form. Then gradually whip in the sugar until the mixture becomes stiff and glossy. Then sprinkle over the lemon juice and cornflour and gently fold it into the mixture with a metal spoon trying to knock as little air out of the mixture as possible.

Pile into the centre of the baking sheet and smooth the top as best you can. You want a disk around eight inches in diameter and 1-2 inches tall.

Place in the oven and immediately reduce the temperature to 120C. Bake for 15 minutes and then turn the oven off, but leave the pavlova in there to continue baking as the oven cools, leave until completely cold.

When you are ready to serve, gently invert the pavlova onto a place and peel off the paper. Whip the cream gently until it is still soft and fluffy, but holds its shape. Then stir in the pulp from the passion fruits. Gently spread the curd over the pavlova and then top with the cream, serve immediately, or within an hour.


Please don't forget to sing "blame it on the pa-va-lova" whilst serving, it makes it taste better. Honest.

A sigh of relief

Today brought many a sigh of relief. Firstly, it is the first Sunday in a long time that I have not been working, and so meant a full day of N's company. It was spent in a very typical manner, him being crafty at the table, me being crafty on the sofa, but even this silent time, spent in mutual contemplation of our tasks, and the cricket, made everything feel aligned again.

Speaking of cricket, a huge exhalation went up when the final ball was lofted over the outfield for four, and England won the series. It was touch and go at the end there, and two people and one cat held their breath as they prayed that it wouldn't be a truly dreadful day for English sport.

Because yes, unless you've managed to blissfully avoid World Cup mania, you're probably aware the England went out of the tournament today. I know it is controversial to admit, but I breathed a sigh of relief at this too. Frankly, now we can stop pretending to believe the hype that England are going to win (which they never were, let's face it), we can all sit down, relax, and enjoy the rest of the competition, whilst watching some teams who actually can play football.

Phew, mini-rant over. Sorry about that!

What I really wanted to tell you about was the sauce I made for our pancakes this morning. I didn't plan the pancakes, but the lack of bread and unwillingness to miss a single moment of any sport today meant that I needed to come up with a breakfast option fast. I used my go to recipe (which I've tweaked a bit over the last six months) and would have added blueberries to them, except I suddenly decided instead to whip up a sauce. I'm so glad I did! It would have produced a sigh of happiness, had it not been for us both stuffing stacks of pancakes and sauce in our mouths!

It's super simple, quick and uber tasty. It goes incredibly well with a subtly flavoured pancake, and a dollop of creme fraiche, so that the sauce is the star of the show. I'm sure it would be equally delicious on waffles, ice cream or French toast.

Blueboozy sauce - serves two for pancakes, liberally.

2 cups blueberries, fresh or frozen.
1 large glug of creme de cassis, or for a non-alcoholic version, a dark berry (or elderflower) cordial
1 tbsp water
3-4 tsp cornflour

Place the blueberries in a small saucepan with the water. Begin to heat gently until they release their juice. Then add the cassis or cordial. Continue to cook gently until the blueberries are bursting and there is a large amount of liquid in the saucepan. Add the cornflour a teaspoon at a time, through a sieve (to avoid lumps forming) mixing as you add. Wait for the mixture to thicken slightly in the heat. You can continue to add cornflour until the sauce reaches your desired texture. I had mine fairly thick so that it sat well on pancakes, but if I was using in on ice cream I'd leave it much thinner.

Pour over hot pancakes, toast or waffles, or scoops of vanilla ice cream. Enjoy!

Finally...

...It seems that maybe, just maybe, Britain might get some summer. For some reason it hasn't felt like there's been much summer here yet, despite the slightly depressing fact that it was apparently the solstice yesterday. Perhaps I missed it all being stuck in the office, whereas in previous years I have been blissfully at home and therefore able to appreciate each and every day when the sunshine peeks out and the temperature creeps above ten degrees Celsius.

I'm sure it was Molly who once mentioned that bloggers can have a habit of posting less during the warmer sunnier months. I think particularly for those of us who are less used to all this gorgeous weather, and who only get about three days of it a year (yes, I am indeed a jaded Brit), it is imperative to leave the computers behind and head out and frolic.

That's not quite what I've been doing. I would definitely be up for some frolicking in principle, however I have mostly spent the last week and a bit working. The shop I work in has been moving to a larger premises (hurrah!), but being a small business the shifting of boxes was done by us. There is part of me that relishes being back to physical work after months of being in a office. It reminds me of when I was working on the market and shifting palettes of bread every morning. It is a wonderfully satisfying way to spend a day.

But my muscles the following day were not amused, especially when I hauled them out of bed to do it all again!

However, despite the aches and pains and exhaustion that seem to be following me around, there is a huge plus to all this dashing around. You have full license to eat as much as you like! On the actual moving day, when myself and the lovely M shifted box after box and bag after bag from the van to the new shop, dodging pedestrians as we went, I probably ate my body weight in baked goods (and then we discovered the amazing local frozen yoghurt place! I LOVE our new location!), and that's not an insignificant amount. And yet, when I got home, I was still ravenous! Total result. I can once again bake my heart out and stuff my not-so delicate little face with cookies, cakes and tarts and totally justify it (did I mention that the new stock room is on the top floor...I've got a new love affair with all those stairs!)

With all this in mind I decided my co-workers and co-box-sifters might need a little sugar rush to keep the spirits lifted. On our first day open in the new shop I brought everyone cinnamon rolls, topped with my amazing new-found (Thanks Rosy!) cream cheese icing. The days before this, there was a endless supply of cookies.

Why? Because thanks to the advice of a certain young American, who knows her cookies, I was finally pointed in the direction of the perfect chocolate chip cookie recipe. I shall forever be indebted to her, and her French source, for what will quite possibly now always be my go-to cookie recipe. It's crispy yet still chewy, better on the second day, and held up to some adapting. I made them last week, and we ate the remainder today (the recipe makes a LOT) and they were still good. In my eyes, that's the perfect cookie. They even stood up to what is my high water mark of cookies, the pecan and chocolate chip ones from Ottolenghi.

Go, bake and be sated...nom.

The almost-Nestle Tollhouse cookie - Makes enough to feed an army of movers.

2 1/4 cups strong white bread flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup butter, softened
3/4 cup granulated sugar
3/4 cup light muscovado sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 large eggs
2 cups dark chocolate (I used 70%) chopped into chunks
1 cup chopped nuts (I'm a pecan gal myself, but walnuts, hazelnuts etc would work fine)



Preheat the oven to 190C and line all the baking trays you have in the house! No, seriously I used all four of mine a couple of times over as you only really want about six on each sheet in case of spreading. 


Whisk together the flour, baking soda and salt. In a mixer, or by hand beat together the butter, sugars and vanilla until light and fluffy. Then gradually beat in the eggs one at a time. Gradually add the flour mixture and combine. Then stir in the chocolate and nuts. 


Place rounded teaspoons of dough on the baking sheets a couple of inches apart. Bake for aprox. 8 - 9 minutes until they are just golden brown at the edges (this tip was thanks to M, who pointed out this would maintain a chewy centre. mmmm...)


They will keep for quite a while in a air tight box, but I would recommend them either just warm, or the next day with a nice cup of tea.

"We don't like cricket...oh no! We love it!"

Nothing quite epitomises summer for me than cricket. If you've hung around here, or indeed spent much time in my company, it probably hasn't escaped your attention that I am a massive cricket fan.

There's just something so gosh darn civilized about a gentlemanly game that takes places at an almost leisurely pace over an entire day and include a break at 3.40pm for afternoon tea. If you're familiar with other bastions of gentlemanly culture, cricket may well conjure up images of fluffy clouds in blue sky, teams all decked out in white, and spectators politely clapping at the end of each over between mouthfuls of strawberries and cream and swigs of Champers. All of which should be accompanied by the soothing tones of Test Match Special (minus Boycott of course, nothing soothing there!)

The reality of course looks rather more like this:

Five hours of drizzle, rain and inclement weather. If you go to the cricket in England (rather than sensible places like the West Indies, or Australia) chances are you should pack for the arctic. N laughed as he saw me stuffing a quilt, raincoat, hat and scarf into my bag on Saturday, but true to my expectations I spent five hours at Lord's huddled underneath the aforementioned bedding wishing I'd bought some gloves as well.

That's the reality of the British summer. And I embrace it. Partly because I have to, and partly because no matter what at 3.40pm there is a break and out comes the tea and cake. If I do nothing else in preparation for an afternoon of cricket it is to prepare a cake. I've talked about this before, and fruit cake is almost always what I make.

But sometimes I need a little sunshine, and so sometimes I make something a bit brighter in the hope of tempting out the rays and casting off the raincoat. If you need a little sunshine, especially after a damp bank holiday weekend, I suggest you dust off your mixing bowls, search out some good lemons and have a crack at this. It's a great cake for transporting because it is incredible dense and holds up well. I think I might add a strongly lemony buttercream next time. But then again I might not.

Lemon Vanilla Yoghurt cake - makes one 9x5 loaf. (Adapted from Smitten Kitchen)



1 1/2 cups Plain Flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1 cup vanilla yoghurt
1 cup plus 1 tablespoon sugar
3 large eggs
Juice and zest of two unwaxed lemons
1/2 cup vegetable oil


Preheat the oven to 350°F. Line a 9x5 inch loaf pan.

Whisk together the cups flour, baking powder, and salt. In another bowl, mix together the yogurt, 1 cup sugar, the eggs, lemon zest, and oil. Slowly add the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients, but mix thoroughly.

Pour the batter into the  pan and bake for about an hour, or until a toothpick of skewer in the center of the loaf comes out clean.

Meanwhile, cook the lemon juice and remaining 1 tablespoon sugar in a small pan until the sugar dissolves and the mixture is clear. Set aside.

When the cake is done, allow it to cool in the pan for 10 minutes before turning out onto a rack. Carefully place on a baking rack over a baking tray. While the cake is still warm, gently poke wholes all over it with a toothtpick and then brush the lemon syrup over it with a pastry brush until all the syrup is absorbed. Cool and then enjoy, preferably in front of the cricket.

Because you can put jam in everything.

The Jamvangalist strikes again! The cake I bring you today is a wonderful way to use up the dregs of marmalade that might be taking up several rooms space in your house cupboards. Okay, so I'm sure you don't actually have that problem, but when I am trying out new marmalades the half-full tester jars gradually stack up in our "breakfast" cupboard and because I try and eat nice boring healthy museli in the morning and so only have toast at weekends, I need another way to re-appropriate the half-filled jars.

I discovered this cake when doing all sorts of research in the run up to Food Junctions. In the spirit of "isn't preserving amazing and versatile" that I was trying to get across in my presentation I wanted not to have tasters of just jams and marmalades, but examples of the things you can do with them other than spreading them on bread. As a result I spent the evening and then morning before the talk frantically whipping up cakes, biscuits, tarts and slices all of which used jam, marmalade, curd or other preserves. It was the marmalade cake that was the first to go. It's moist, and whilst it doesn't taste too strongly of bitter orange marmalade, it does have a wonderful background hint of it, and a great depth of flavour.

It was so good that one participant actually prized the cake paper out of my hand and stood scraping the crumbs off it!

So today, I bring you my newly-found go-to marmalade cake. I used my "dark side" Seville marmalade, which is made with bitter oranges, all dark sugar (making it almost black, and very treacly in flavour) and a nice dash of smooth Irish whiskey. I also intend to make a version that uses my lemon marmalades. In fact, I might even try using other jams, as I get the impression it is highly adaptable and will suit many preserves and many tastes. It is adapted from a Nigel Slater recipe (of course) and so all credit must go to him really. Except I like my cake a bit darker and so have used light muscovado sugar instead of white, and didn't add orange blossom water, or any additional orange, or icing as I don't think it needs these extras. That said, a dash of lemon juice and perhaps some zest would probably make this cake really sing, but I shall leave that up to you.

Marmalady Cake - makes one large loaf cake.

175g unsalted butter, very soft.
175g light muscovado sugar
175g self-raising flour
3 large eggs
75g marmalade

Preheat the oven to 180C and grease or line a large loaf pan.

Cream the butter and the sugar together until light and fluffy. Beat the eggs a little and then add to the creamed mixture a little at a time, beating well between each addition. You want to make sure that you do this really well, I would probably even use a whisk next time because the dark sugar is less easily incorporated (or so I find). Next add the marmalade. I also chop the peel a little so you get nice bits of preserved peel all though the cake. Finally, in a swift firm action fold the flour into the batter until it is fully mixed, trying to whip in a bit of air as you go.

Pour the batter into the lined tin and bake for 40mins or until a skewer comes out clean. Mine was 40min bang on.

Leave to cool in the tin before turning out. Serve in thick slices.

Dump the grump.

I have days when I get a bit self-indulged with grumpiness. I sit tired in front of spreadsheets wallowing in "woe is me." Which is exactly what happened yesterday. You see, I got bitten by what a friend, looking at the size of my red swollen maddeningly itchy arm, surmised, was a horse fly. As a result I had taken about a gazillion anti-histamines in order to quell the irritating fire that seemed to have taken over my right forearm. The result, a grumpy, itchy and now very sleepy me. Turns out I hadn't thought that anti-histamines make you drowsy. Oops! 

Add to this the usual "what am I going to do with my life" existential crisis, and you get what in hindsight is a very ridiculous me.

So I was in the weirdest mood when I got home, and for some strange reason felt almost completely unable to keep my eyes open! I decided that there was clearly only one thing to do. 

Make cake. 

Because let's be honest, you can take all the medicine in the chemist and nothing quite hits the stop like a delicious easily thrown together bit of baked goodness. 

I wanted something light, and low in fat, and fruity, to be the utter antithesis to my droopy, indulgent mood. I wanted a reminder of the spring sunshine, and a kick up the behind to stop being so gosh, darn, silly about everything. I pondered a typical Victoria sponge, but decided I wanted something a bit different, and less daunting than a two-tier monster that only two people would have to consume. 

In the end I decided on a buttermilk cake. I had spotted Molly's a while ago, and as soon as I started wracking my brain for a light spring cake solution to my grump it appeared from the depths of my memory.  I adapted it a little bit, using blueberries, and adding a topping of cinnamon and sugar, and also using curdled milk as I didn't have buttermilk on hand. The result was a lovely light sponge, wih a great crumb and a delicious moist vanilla flavour, speckled with deep purple blushes of blueberries and a cinnamony-sugary crunch. We nearly demolished it in one sitting, and you're lucky I managed to snap a few pictures this morning as I know it'll be gone in no time tonight. 

I am now officially calling this my "dump the grump" cake. It won't be the last time I need to pull myself of out silliness, and so won't be the last time I make this cake....in fact I rather hope I am being a grump again soon...

Dump the Grump Cake - makes one 9" cake (or two servings! hehe)

1 cup plain flour

1/2 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp baking soda

pinch of salt

2 oz softened unsalted butter

2/3 cup and 1 tbsp sugar, divided. 

1/2 tsp vanilla extract

1 tsp ground cinnamon

1 large egg

1/2 cup of milk 

juice of half a lemon

3/4 cup blueberries (fresh or froze, but not thawed)

Preheat the oven to 200C and line or grease a 9" cake tin. 

Add the lemon juice to the milk and leave to stand for a few minutes so that it curdles.

Whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Beat the butter and 2/3 cup sugar until light and fluffy. Then add the vanilla and egg and beat well. 

Add the flour mixture to the batter slowly, alternating with the milk, begin and end with the flour. Mix until just combined. Spoon the batter into the prepared tin and smooth the top. Scatter the blueberries over the top. Combine the remaining sugar with the cinnamon and then sprinkle as evenly as possible over the top of the blueberry studded cake. 

Bake until golden brown and a toothpick comes out clean. Remove the cake from the oven and leave to cool in the tin for ten minutes, then turn out onto a rack until fully cool. Invert to right side up and serve. 

We didn't feel the cake needed any embellishments, but I'm sure a dollop of cream or creme fraiche wouldn't go amiss if you fancied it.

Kneading is so yesterday

I know, I know, no knead bread, the brain child of Jim Lahey, has been kicking around the interwebs for years now. Forgive me for being so late onto the bandwagon. I can't remember where I first saw it mentioned. I thought it sounded really interesting, and then promptly forgot about it. Then I saw it somewhere else, and my ears pricked up, I remembered the first mention, read a bit more. And then promptly forgot about it.

You see, I already have a bunch of really good bread recipes, and I know that once I start getting more and more into bread making, I will get buried in the subject, never to return. I used to think this might be a bad thing, but given just how much I LOVE bread (I definitely think it's a genetic thing, my father is the same, it's more of a compulsion for bread than a love), I am beginning to realise that actually this could be the best thing ever. I keep wanting to try my hand at sourdough, but have always been too scared in case I kill off my starter, or come home to a kitchen that has been taken over by a huge bubbling mass that looks like something from a The Blob.

So I swing from "let's start a starter this weekend" to steadfastly ignoring the numerous books I have on the subject. Then I saw this. Seriously, how good does that loaf look?! It was at that point, quite literally about four and a half minutes later, that I began my love affair with the no knead bread.

I am now fully on the wagon. So far on the wagon in fact that I have made this bread five times in the last week and a bit. Call me crazy, call me obsessed, and I will say, yes! Because it's just so darn good! I should also point out that I have no only made this loaf five times, but I have adapted it each and every one of those times. First off I didn't have any walnuts, so I decided to draw on a loaf I'd had in Italy once and add some ground fennel seeds. Delish! Then I made cranberry and pecan, with a little bit of wholemeal flour, then fennel and black pepper...the list goes on.

This loaf is easy, amazingly tasty and can be adapted to pretty much whatever you have in the house as far as I can tell. This is my new go-to loaf, I shall be forever thanking Tracy for opening my eyes to the truth and starting a whole new bread adventure in Our Lovely Flat.

No Knead Bread - My favourite way (so far) 

3 cups bread flour (I sometimes use 1 cup of wholemeal in the mix)

1/2 tsp instant yeast

1 3/4 tsp salt (I never measure this, I'm lazy, I just throw in a large pinch)

1/2 cup raisins

2 tsp fennel seeds, slightly bashed in a pestle and mortar

1 1/2 cups water. 

The night before mix all the ingredients together in a medium to large bowl, it should form a dough, but be a sticky one. Leave, covered with a tea towel until the next morning (aprox. 12-18 hrs). 

Flour your work surface. Turn the dough out in one piece and gently form into a ball, tucking the corners in underneath it to form a nice tight shape. Liberally flour a tea towel and place the dough in the centre, and wrap the edges around it. (I usually place the towel and dough back in the bowl to help hold the shape as you can see in the pictures!) Leave for another hour or so, until doubled in size. 

Half an hour into the second rise preheat your oven to 240C and place your casserole or dutch oven inside for half an hour, with the lid on. Then once the bread is ready, gently turn it from the tea towel, into the hot pan, and return, covered, to the hot oven. Bake for 30 mins, and then remove the lid and bake until the shade of golden brown that suits you most! Remove the pan from the over, and gently tip out the loaf and allow to cool before cutting and eating.

eggscellent cupcakes...(groan, I know, but come on, it's Easter!)

Two years ago for Easter I made some cupcakes. They were good cupcakes, with some very good icing. I kept thinking that next time around I would make them again, kind of like an Easter tradition. Except I didn't. Instead I spent last Easter making hot cross buns (see that tradition did stick!) and learning about patchwork. The whole time-consuming posh icing, nice presentation, thing went out of the window. 

Then this Easter I very nearly didn't make them. I was thinking we should be good, that we should be thinking ahead and trying to shed pounds for Summer and eating better. Then I let on to people at work that I had this recipe up my sleeve, and the inevitable happened, I spent last Tuesday night elbows deep in ganache trying desperately to evenly and beautifully ice a set of cupcakes for my co-workers. 

I also upped the game this time around. Last time I had vanilla cupcakes with chocolate icing, however, I know the ladies in my office, and given the choice of vanilla or chocolate, chocolate wins. And so on Wednesday morning last week I braved my bus journey to work, with my elbows out and scowl on, cradling a cake tin filled with carefully iced and topped chocolate Easter cupcakes. It was worth it. The office loved them, and it was nice to take a little something special in as everyone has been working incredibly hard in the run up to the break.

I think these would be the perfect little treat for anyone over Easter, especially if you've got a bunch of dark chocolate and mini-eggs kicking around. I made both large and mini-cupcakes as they are seriously rich, and sometimes all you need is a little bite of sweetness with a mid-afternoon coffee. (and yes, you can totally justify eating three small ones in one mouthful go)

I won't post the cupcake recipe, as I got it from the lovely Rosy, over here. She is right, they are amazing, dense, moist and with a lovely depth of flavour. I made two batches, the first to get exactly 8 large cupcakes, and the second to split between a few more large and a whole host of mini ones. I had 11 large and 11 small in the end, and the batch of ganache I made was enough to generously ice them all. 

I will share my whipped ganache again, in case you missed it last time around. It's my go-to chocolate icing recipe for both cupcakes and layer cakes, as it is beautifully soft to pipe or spread, and firms up well to hold it's shape. Careful though, this stuff is incredibly rich!

Whipped Ganache 

You can easily halve this recipe and it'll be enough for eight cupcakes, or there abouts.

8 ounces dark chocolate
3/4 cup double cream
1/4 cup soft butter
2 cups powdered sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup milk
1 teaspoon vanilla
 

Chop chocolate and transfer into a heat proof bowl. Heat cream until bubbles form around the edge of the pan, pour cream over the chocolate. Let sit for 1 minute then stir until combined.(if, like me, no matter how small you chopped your chocolate the whole lot won't melt, then you can place the bowl over barely simmering water and stir like crazy to get it to melt. You have to be really careful though as if you get it too hot you will split the ganache and it will be gone forever, I speak from bitter experience, one that left me in tears at 11pm on evening a few months ago...so beware!) Add butter to the chocolate (make sure its soft and at room temp) and stir until combined (you can also do this in the double boiler situation if you're still having trouble getting everything to melt together - do remember as soon as the ganache is smooth to remove it from the heat and continue stirring to avoid over-heating).  Whisk together sugar, salt, milk, and vanilla in another bowl until combined.Pour the sugar mixture onto the chocolate mixture, then stir until combined and smooth.  Let sit at room temperature until thickened.  Beat with an electric mixer until fluffy. Pipe onto cupcakes when they're completely cooled. Lick bowl. 

A very good Friday.

Right now I am in bed with a cup of tea and breakfast. Yes, I know that it's already past eleven, but I make no excuses for my laziness, in fact this weekend week I will be embracing it to it's maximum potential. 

It seems incredibly generous that society has felt it only right and proper to bestow on me two extra days of holiday this weekend, and it seems even more gracious that work should operate "closure days" on the Thursday and Tuesday that bookend this already wonderful four day weekend, turning four, into six, relaxation days. 

As a thank you, I am going to share my breakfast with you. More hot cross buns! Having admitted in my last post about them that I really wish I made them more, I wondered what exactly was stopping me? This ponderance, coupled with the spotting of this recipe, forced my hand, and in the last week I have made them twice more, and I think I am ready to admit that this new version trumps the old one, hands down.

What was the clincher? I could say it was the addition of the subtle blend of spices, rather than the simple mixed spice, and yes this is definitely a factor. But really, since I am honestly confessing to my laziness I might as well admit that it was the use of tea and stout. 

The addition of a teapot in this household at Christmas has almost turned me from a staunch coffee drinker to a tea fanatic, and I have begun to truly realise that a good cup of tea is not simply a good cup of tea, but a Good cup. And that tea is without doubt the most wonderful comforter, restorer and general hot drink equivalent of a duvet. 

And a can of Guinness is often the same! 

So this week, I have been mostly making and eating these. I think you should too. Take some of that lazy time this long weekend and reward yourself. It's two-fold too as you're not only blessed with the most delicious afternoon tea or breakfast, but your whole house will smell amazing! 

Very Good Friday Buns - Adapted from Dan Lepard.

Having made these twice now I have come to the conclusion that I personally like a bit less fruit than Lepard, and that you can easily add a bit of wholemeal flour with no ill effect, in fact I preferred the slightly nuttier flavour and more equal quantities of peel and raisins. I mention this by way of saying that this is a pretty adaptable recipe, so feel free to tweak as is your want. 

Be warned your really need to start this the day before you bake, as the fruit is soaked overnight...

Makes 10-12 depending on how accurate your weighing is (mine, not so much!)

162ml Stout (Guinness is my poison)

3/4 tsp each of ground ginger, cinnamon and nutmeg

3/4 tsp instant yeast

163g wholemeal bread flour

275g strong white flour

88g raisins

88g mixed peel (or other dried fruit if you prefer)

125ml hot black tea (make a pot and have a cup in the process!)

1 large egg, beaten then divided in half (or as close as you can manage)

25g melted butter

25g sugar (golden caster is best I think)

3/4 tsp salt

The night before put the peel and raisins in a small bowl with the tea. Stir and leave to soak. Then place the wholemeal flour, stout, yeast, and spices in a deep bowl (if you have a mixer you can place them in the mixer bowl). Combine and then leave, loosely covered, overnight.

The next day at add the melted butter and half the egg to the fruit mixture, stir and then mix into the stout starter. Then add the white flour, sugar and salt. Mix until it just comes together, then leave for ten minutes. Mix for ten seconds, then leave for ten minutes. Repeat. Then leave for an hour. 

After an hour turn the dough out onto a floured surface. Line a baking sheet with parchment, or silicone liner. Divide the dough into roughly 100g pieces (mine were 122 as I'm greedy) and form into balls, then lay, touching, on the baking sheet. Cover with a tea towel and leave for 90 mins. 

Mix 1 tbsp of flour with 1 tbsp of water to form a paste. 

Preheat the oven to 200C. Mix the remaining egg with a dash of milk, and then gently brush this mixture over the risen buns. Then dab the past over the buns to form crosses (Yay, I remembered and bothered this time!) Bake for 20-25mins. Then allow to cool, if you can wait that long! 

The sprunging of spring

All over the interwebs, and indeed all over this town, there are hints that spring has well and truly sprung. The light is that little bit brighter, and around for a little bit longer, the thermostat creeps down as the temperatures outside slowly (oh so slowly) creeps up, and today we got some showers. Not the torrential downpours of January, but the gentle pattering of raindrops on the roof.

On Tuesday evening it was light enough when I got home to riffle through the greenhouse and rescue the propagator trays and begin the first round of this years planting. I have high hopes for Our Lovely Garden this year. I feel like every year so far I've learnt lots, but harvested little, I'm hoping (with all my not-so-green fingers crossed) that this year it might be the other way around.

And look, the rhubarb is already trying to prove me right! In a few months this will be begging to be harvested, perhaps just in time for an early summer pie?

When the sunshine finally does rear its pretty little head my baking suddenly takes on a lighter note. I want cakes rather than pies and crumbles, and soon the tart season will begin. Oddly I am not someone who turns to citrus to get me through the winter. Aside from the dark bitter tang of seville marmalade (yes, there has been plenty of that made behind the scenes here this winter!), I shy away from the bright fresh fruit in the colder months. Frankly, I like an excuse to eat stodge!

But the minute the green shoots start to appear, and the winter coat goes tentatively back into the wardrobe I start thinking about lemons, and fresh clean flavours. This year I branched out and discovered how glorious passion fruit are. Okay, I know, not native and so I can't pretend I didn't have to buy imported, but sometimes I think that's alright, and it's not as if my sevilles and lemons aren't brought to me across the sea.

I begin thinking of herbs at this time of year too, and I have to admit that I might have a slight problem. I've become obsessed with rosemary. I've always liked it, but recently I haven't been able to leave it alone, savoury or sweet my dishes have lashings of this tough fragrant herb running throughout them.

And so today I bring you the perfect cake to kick off spring with. It's moist and dense, but with a great crumb and a lightness and delicacy of flavour that hints to the weather and moods that are hopefully smiling away.

Glazed Lemon and Rosemary Loaf - makes one large loaf.

250g soft butter
200g caster sugar
3 large eggs
210g self-raising flour
90g plain flour
1 tsp vanilla extract
zest and juice of 1 unwaxed lemon
1 tbsp chopped fresh rosemary (or more if you love it like I do!)
4 tbsp milk
juice of another lemon, and then and equal quantity of sugar (I eyeball this), and a large rosemary sprig

Preheat the oven to 170C and line a long loaf tin (mine is 10" by 4") with parchment (it will be much easier to turn the cake out if you line rather than just greasing).

Cream the butter, adding the sugar when it is really soft, and then cream until pale. Beat in the eggs one at a time, adding a large spoonful of flour after each one. Then add the vanilla, lemon zest and juice. Fold in the rest of the flour, and then the rosemary. Thin the batter with the milk.

Pour into the lined tin and smooth the top. Bake for aprox. 1 hour, or until a toothpick comes out clean - mine needed a little longer, probably an extra ten minutes, so don't worry if it's not done at a hour. Do keep an eye on it while it bakes, and cover the top with foil if it's getting too brown.

Meanwhile in a small saucepan stir together the lemon juice and sugar and then add the rosemary sprig. Bring to the boil and then remove from the heat immediately.

When the cake is done, remove from the oven and gently prick all over the top with a toothpick, or fork. With a pastry brush, brush the cake with the lemon syrup. This will keep the cake moist and produce a slight glaze and a nice tangy crunch to the top of the cake.

Cool completely, and then slice and enjoy.

This cake lasts really well, and is often better a day after making if wrapped well as the flavours deepen slightly.

Spring Cleaning and Not Cross Buns.

Hello? Anyone still there? Seems I fell off the blogging wagon for a little while there. I needed a bit of time to get back into focus, and whilst doing so it made sense to do a bit of spring cleaning, both literally and virtually. (Sniff of course slept through the whole thing.)

So...ta da! A whole new look. I decided that much as I loved the red and black of old, it was time to lift my head and see some clean bright lines. It felt right for what I hope will be sort of a new start. It's amazing isn't it just how dramatic the impact of sunshine is. It totally controls my mood, and every year I try and pretend it doesn't. I've spoken before about how I used to be such a winter person, I loved the short days and the dark nights to wrap up into, loved the layers of clothes and root veg stews. I still, every year, try and pretend that this is true, and in some regards it is, I love pies, and sausage and mash and hearty stews. I love crumbles and steamed puddings. But the older I get the more I come to realise that the sunshine is crucial, and without a heavy dose I am one depressed little lady. This year it hit harder than every as a long dark winter was combined with a whole bunch of uncertainty and insecurity in my own goings on. 


Things are still mostly uncertain, and I remain as insecure as ever, but the sunshine is making me smile through it. As are wonderful inspirational meetings with new friends, and in lovely places, and with old friends on hilarious outings. 

Oh, and cake of course. Yes, cake is definitely a crucial element. I have baked lots in the last couple of weeks, and so hopefully will have lots to share. I shall start with something delightfully seasonal, a treat that I wait patiently for each year, and then wish I just gave in and made them all the time: Hot Cross Buns. Oh, I love them so, with their hint of spice, and slight tartness from mixed peel and the sweetness of the raisins. Not to mention how unbelievable perfect they are at soaking up melting salted butter. 


These are my "not cross buns" because somewhere along the way I forgot to put the crosses on, and then actually couldn't be bothered, and then realised that I liked them just as much without and it saves a step in the process, not to mention a few more bits of washing up. 

Not Cross Buns - Makes 16 small(ish) or 8 large. 


500g plain flour (in two 250g batches in different bowls)
125ml Cold Milk
125ml Boiling water
10g instant yeast
pinch of salt
2 tsp mixed spice
50g caster sugar
zest of one unwaxed lemon
75g raisins
75g mixed peel
50g melted butter
1 beaten egg 


In one medium bowl (or the bowl of a food mixer) place 250g of the flour. In a jug mix the cold milk and the boiling water to give you a lukewarm liquid. Add a pinch of sugar and then the yeast. Leave until bubbles form and then pour into the flour and make a sticky dough. Leave to rise until doubled, about 45-50mins. 

Meanwhile mix the other 250g flour with the mixed spice, caster sugar and zest. Then add the raisins and peel. Once the wet batter has doubled, add the dry mix to it, along with the melted butter and half the beaten egg and form into a wet dough. It will be sticky, but manageable. Leave this to rise for a good hour, again until doubled. 


Turn out onto a well-floured surface and gently shape into a ball. Divide this into two, then four, and then eight (or sixteen depending on the size of bun you want). Shape these pieces in to slight rectangles and place on a greased and floured (or parchment covered) baking sheet(s). Leave for a final rise of 20mins. Preheat the oven to 200C.

Brush with the remaining beaten egg and place in the oven for 15min, until slightly golden. Then see how long you can hold out before tearing one in half, slathering in salted butter and stuffing into your face. I lasted five minutes, which I thought was pretty good, but then again I wasn't on the ball and hadn't prepared the pot of tea until the last moment. Rookie error! 

Enjoy everyone...

My last meal.

So I was over here, and I got to thinking about what my last meal would be. I thought it would be tough as there are many foods I adore, from the elaborate to the simple (peanut butter on toast came a very close second, and might still make it in the running for dessert!).

However, in the end the result was obvious. It would have to be aubergine parmigiana, (melanzana parmigiana to give it the correct title) and would have to be accompanied with handmade focaccia.This is not only the meal I would pick as my potential last ever, it also happened to be the one I decided to cook for Valentine's day. We're not that big on Valentine's day. There are no grand gestures, no expensive gifts, and certainly no trips to fancy restaurants. Instead we're low key, low budget and low maintenance. In a very cliched way we are a couple who celebrate our love for each other with random and constant acts (K, I can hear you vomiting....) and it has to be said that much of this occurs through the medium of food, not unlike other couples I know.

So as the weekend rushed forth I toyed with all sorts of ideas for main dishes. As you may (or may not) know I have a tendency toward the epic tradition when it comes to Valentine's. Yet this year I didn't want a Homeric mission. I knew I was going to be out all day, and after all the chaos that the previous weeks had thrown I figured we'd want the food equivalent of a huge indulgent duvet. As a result I went with our favourite meal of the moment and made it the night before. I'd say it's nothing special, as we have it almost once a week, except it is special. Somehow, through some frying and some baking, a simple dish of aubergines, tomatoes and cheese becomes something far far grander than the individual ingredients. It sits happily as a starter, and yet we prefer to completely indulge and eat platefuls as a main, with the sauces slopped up with bread.

Considering I am someone who supposedly didn't like aubergines, this dish is a revelation, and proves that if you prepare them well, and treat them right they can become something that I would be desperate to have as my last meal.

Beware, it does take a little time to prepare. It's one to make in advance. It also tastes even better on the second day, especially made into a sandwich with any remaining focaccia. It took me a little while to get this recipe totally right, but I do now feel like it's ready to share.

Sorry about the slightly ad-hoc nature of the recipe and instructions, it's take from an email, as that's the only time I've ever written it down. I've added (what I hope are) some helpful photos...

Aubergine Parmigiana - Serves four as a main just with bread, or more with salad

You'll need a 9" pie dish or something similar.

4 aubergines (sliced lengthways in thin slices - not sure how thin, I
just try for as thins as I can without a mandolin, although I know
that probably doesn't help. Also, I don't really worry about some
being thicker as you can deal with that when you fry them)
2x tins chopped tomatoes
small onion
dash of basil (I use dried in winter, fresh in summer)
olive oil (er, lots? have the bottle on hand)
Parmesan (also lots, I think I use 150g) grated finely.
salt and pepper

Righty, so you slice your aubergines and place layers of them in a
colander, sprinkling them with salt as you go. Then put a plate over
them and weight it down to get all the juice out (this is absolutely vital)
I leave them for as long as I can, probably 20-30 mins.

While they are draining knock up a quick tomato sauce. Chop the onion
into small pieces and fry in a medium saucepan in a bit of oil. When
glossy and soft add the basil and then dump in the tomatoes (and a
dash of wine if you fancy it) leave to simmer until a bit thicker, but
don't let too much evaporate.

Drain the aubergines and then dry them thoroughly. I do this with a
special tea towel or kitchen roll trying to get as much liquid out as
possible. Heat a frying pan and have a ramekin of olive oil and a
pastry brush to hand. Brush oil on one side of the aubergine slice and
fry oil side down (four or five at a time) in the dry pan. You want
them to be just about to turn browny black (you'll know what I mean
when you see it, and some charred bit are no problem, I even like
them! - see photo, where I got a bit distracted dashing for the camera and got a little over-charred, you want them a bit less brown than this),

brush the side up with oil and flip them over.Remove from the pan when done and start the next batch. This can take a while!

You can cook the thicker slices for longer at this stage to even it up a bit.

Okay, now you're ready to assemble: Get your pie dish. Place about a
third of the tomato sauce in the bottom:

cover with a layer of aubergine,and then sprinkle with a third of the Parmesan. Then repeat. You want
it so you have about three layers, (although depending on the
aubergines I sometimes get four) I think this number make it just
right. You want to finish with a layer of aubergine topped with
Parmesan.

Don't worry about thinking there isn't enough tomato sauce in there,
and that it might be too dry. It will prove you wrong every time!

I cook mine the day before often and then re-cook the night we want to
eat it as the flavours develop really well. I also like the top of
mine to go really dark, almost charred, as I love the flavour!

Place in a 190C oven and cook for about 40-45 mins, until the cheese
has melted and going brown at the edges and it's bubbling slightly.

Try and hold out not plunging a fork in immediately, it'll be so hot!

Serve with lots of bread and be smug!

It never rains...

...but it pours, as the saying goes. As it happens, we've had more snow this week. Just a dusting, which, on the much-trodden London streets, hung in the air longer than it settled on the pavements.

But the pretty white flakes weren't enough to lift morale. There are more than a few battles going on at the moment, and I now understand why you can't deploy a single army to fight on multiple fronts. It's just too hard.

When the going gets tough there is one man who can make everything better. N is a saint, and despite bearing the brunt of the attack this week has managed to always make me smile and lift my spirits. So last night, while he was out, I decided to do a little something to lift his.This involved consulting the other man in my life who often puts a smile on my face. Nigel Slater. I know that sometimes it must seem like the Nigel Slater appreciation society over here (does this exist? and if not, why, not and can I be president?!). I do like other food writers, honest, it's just that on a cold February evening, when everything in life is a little bit rubbish, I want to read a book that feels like being wrapped in a duvet, and that's exactly what Nigel Slater's writing (and recipes) are like. They are utterly unpretentious, beautifully uncomplicated, and as warm and satisfying as a really good cup of tea. So, when N isn't here to give me that big hug, it is to the pages of The Kitchen Diaries, or Appetite, that I go running.

Last night was a double whammy. I started with his mustard and sausage pasta dish, and then finished with his coffee and walnut cake. Adaptations were made to both, but I think Nigel would take that as a complement, as intended.
It was definitely a comfort meal. Sausages, fried with onions, and then coated in cream and mustard, with a random addition of some roasted tomatoes, all mushed together with pasta. Then the cake, a classic sponge, spiked with a hit of coffee and a crumbling of nuts, sandwiched and topped with fluffy coffee buttercream. Perfect.

It feels like I am working on classics at the moment, carrot cake, coffee cake, Shrewsbury biscuits. Somehow it feels like that kind of winter, where we need something familiar easy and from a simpler time (which of course is a myth, as all times have their ups and downs, but you know what I mean).I deviated from the classic slightly by using pecans rather than walnuts. This is partly because we both prefer the slight caramel hint you get with pecans, and partly because when I went to the cupboard is was bare of walnuts. I think it worked really well, with the slight softness that pecans have providing more of a chew than a crunch in the light sponge. I think it will be even better today as the coffee has had time to develop. Perfect for that afternoon pick-me-up.

I also halved the recipe, and rather than making it in large sandwich tins made it in my little 7 inch ones. This made a smaller, shallower cake that is more suitable to a house of two people. You'll still get about eight servings from it, but they won't be quite such door-stop slabs as the original. You can easily just scale up and make a bigger cake if needs warrant. Coffee and pecan cake - adapted from Nigel Slater's recipe in The Kitchen Diaries.

For the cake:
88g softened unsalted butter
88g unrefined caster sugar
88g self-raising flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
2 large eggs
1 tsp instant coffee granules, disolved in 2 tsp hot water (or 2 tsp camp coffee)
35g pecans, toasted lightly then coarsly chopped

For the buttercream:
100g unsalted butter
200g icing sugar
1 tsp instant coffee dislved in 1 tsp hot water/ or 2 tsp camp coffee
aprox 1 tbsp milk
seven/eight pecan halves for decoration

Preheat the oven to 180C and line or grease two 7 inch round sandwich tins.

Cream the butter and sugar together until fluffy, then add the eggs one at a time, beating in between additions. sift together the flour and baking powder and then gradually add to the mix. Add the coffee and beat to combine. Finally stir in the chopped nuts. Divide between the two pans as evenly as possible (don't worry too much about spreading or leveling the batter, it will do this as it bakes) and then bake for aprox 12 mins or until just golden and springy in the middle. Remove from the oven and place on a wire rack to cool completely before removing from the tins.

While the cake are cooling, make the buttercream. Beat the butter until very soft, and then add the coffee. Mix until well combined, and then add the icing sugar in three additions, beating well in between. Finally add enough milk to get the right spreading consistancy (it needs to be fluffy and spreadable, without being runny, I could describe the texture I got as cloud-like!). For me this was about 1 tbsp.

When the cakes are cool turn them out. Place one on a plate, use a third of the icing in the middle, and spread evenly on the cake, then top with other half of the sandwich. Then ice the top and sides with the remaining buttercream and decorate with pecan halves.

p.s. for those of you who asked for the cinnamon roll recipe, it's over here... This is actually a vegan version. To make the "normal" ones, just add an egg instead of the replacer powder, and use real butter. The only thing I think I've changed since first making them is to up the lemon zest in the dough (I like my things lemony!) and to leave the dough on it's initial rise for longer, as I find the flavour develops well after a longer rising time (like three hours if you have it, I just leave mine on the radiator and forget about it.). It doesn't need this, but I happened to have the time and liked the flavour.