Up, up and away...

Today I am mostly doing housework. It's not what I usually spend my blissful free Friday on, but the sprunging of spring made me shamefully aware of just how much dust and dirt was lurking in the flat. I do love the new sunny mornings, but curse them for shining light in all those usually dark corners! I can no longer live in denial. Something must be done.

So, while I dash round like a mad thing frantically swiping surfaces, nooks and crannies, I thought I would share a little piece of spring joy with you: 

I planted these last week on night after work, and they were so keen that by the weekend green shoots were looking promising, and by yesterday they were pushing against the lid of the propagator! All I need to do now is be careful and patient, and pray to the gardening gods that I can maintain some green fingeredness for the whole planting season. 

The large adventurous shoots in the foreground are courgettes and squash, and then coming in a close second with their delicate little offerings are tomatoes. This weekend the first potatoes are going in, and probably a whole load of chilies! 

What are you planting this year?

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...

Out of focus

Is exactly how I feel at the moment. Blurry round the edges.
I will be back soon hopefully, with a cake to share, but for the moment I need to do some hiding under the duvet...

It's the little things he does...

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!

Stashed

My collection of wool is growing at a much faster rate than I can knit it up. Oops!