A tome.

I used to love to bake, to measure ingredients and mix them slowly or quickly depending on their need. To crack eggs and get a little on my fingers, to cut butter into small squares and sift flour making shapes on the worktops where it drifted quietly over the edges of the bowl.  And then I started using a new cookbook and that was the end of that. Ms Lawson drove me mad. Brownies that wouldn't cook, cakes that wouldn't rise, biscuits that spread over the baking sheet, everything too damn sweet. Joy was replaced with frustration, baking became a source of irritation and stress, so I stopped. Until I needed to or desperately wanted to bake and again I would get out The Book, hopefully convincing myself that as everyone else loves her and her buttery goods my failures had been flukes, my next effort would be perfect . No dice.  

I haven't quite been able to bring myself to throw out the damn thing but I will no longer use it.  Smitten Kitchen has become my go-to but I need a book. Something to dust in sugar and flour (Nye gets pissy if I do that to the laptop) with pages to peel apart at the edges where they have become bonded with butter and jam. A book for cakes. (And biscuits and breads and muffins and buns) One that won't fail me. One that will be there, a tome on my bookshelf, filled with deliciousnesses. Fancy deliciousnesses and basic deliciousnesses and comforting deliciousnesses and impressive deliciousnesses. Savoury deliciousnesses and sweet deliciousnesses and yeasty deliciousnesses and chocolatey deliciousnesses.  A book that will show me how to make perfect chocolate chip cookies when that is what I want but will also inspire me to try new cakes I have never heard of (I loved that about Nigella Lawson, when first we met, her cakes sound and look beautiful and interesting; autumn cake, nutella cake, Guinness cake... they just don't bloody work.) A baking bible if you will.  

Do you know of one?  

Rainbow Layers

Fuck macarons, this is the prettiest cake I've ever seen. 

*from Call Me Cupcake, via The Bean and The Bear

resistance

I'm supposed to only be eating one baked goody a day because sugar makes me ill (what kind of bastard trick is that for the universe to play on a girl who comes from a long line of sugar/cake addicts?*) and today I already had a toasted coconut doughnut. But N's out watching the football in some bar and there's a cupcake shop right under our apartment and I'm fucked if I can resist.

*I don't use that word lightly. No way, nuh huh.

And then...

So the girl did cry and she did stomp and she slammed doors and punched pillows. She shouted at her husband and at the world and she declared that it was all simply 'no use'. Her eyes itched from the tears and her head ached from the shouting. And so she did retire to bed, but not before everybody everywhere knew that it was all no use too.

And then.

Two hours later, when she crawled out of her bed a hundred million thousand friends had appeared in her little internet place and they wished her well and they wished her hugs and they told her it would get better. And so it did.

It was 6.30pm and good things started to happen. The good things were thus:

Her boy, who was terribly worried about seeing his football team play in the semi-finals of Some Football League Or Other while he was in New York discovered that by some magical twist of magic his girl had found them an apartment on the 'xact same street as the pub that is host to The Aforementioned Football Team Fanclub of New York. And so he was happy. In the face of such a happy boy the girl started to ease a little.

And then there was dinner. The boy and the girl had been quite convinced that there was 'no dinner'. There is usually 'no dinner' on days that are 'no use'. But low and behold, there was dinner. There was baby vegetables and there was pesto dressing and there was fancy smoked salmon with a cracked pepper and mustard crust hidden in the back of the fridge and so there was the first salad dinner of the summer. It was eaten in the sun.

And THEN. Well and then the sun didn't vanish. The sun had been vanishing a lot recently. And so the girl and the boy, instead of lying in a post-dinner stupor, waddled to the park. In the park they saw two Really good dogs. Really big, really fluffy, really toe-curling dogs. The kind that make the girl squeak. And then they helped a man in a bobble hat look for his dog, whom he had very carelessly lost in the bushes. I say 'helped' but mostly they sat on a bench giggling while Bobble Hat Man shouted "Steve! Steve you wee bastard, come here. STEVE!!!!" but at one crucial moment they did point and shout "there he is!" They also saw a bunny, which eased the pain of sending their very own bunny off off and away for a month. And they stood under the trees and listened to the birds as the sun set. And so the girl was happy again.

But then. Then it got even better. For the girl and the boy came home and when they came home they found ice cream in their freezer, strawberry and chocolate. And they found chocolate in their cupboard, Dominican, organic, yummy. And so they melted the chocolate and they poured it on the ice cream and then they went to bed where they ate ice cream (strawberry and chocolate) and they watch silly television for many hours while the girl had her post-ice cream belly rubbed. And it was bliss and she was happy.

And that is how a single day can turn from poop on a stick to blissful and fluffy and all ice creamy.

* photo by Lena Corwin

Swaplets, received

I don't think I could possibly have been a luckier thing with my swaplet ever. I was sent the goodiest of goodies by Celia of Life According to Celia , only one of my favouritest blogs that there is.

Celia sent me a card with a gorgeous little doe eyed bunny farting glittery hearts...

a hot cocoa kit (YUM) comprising of the biggest and heaviest slab of gourmet chocolate ever...

and a very lady-like vintage teacup and saucer, homemade vanilla sugar and beautifully printed hot cocoa instructions. Instructions with a squirrel attached. There was also a candy heart bracelet (for wearing, not eating)

And and and! A new friend! A very special friend...

How'd she know I'm all about the bunnies?

And it was all so boofully wrapped in red tissue with little felt birdies and ladybugs (Celia calls me P. A little bit short for Peonies and a little bit short for Pixie. I like it)

I kind of spaced out on taking pictures of the candy bracelet and the cocoa instructions. I was going to go back and take some more today but I woke up with a sprained ankle (it was fine when I went to sleep, how does that happen?) and haven't been able to get off the sofa.

I love ">Amanda for organising this and I love Celia for being the biggest sweetheart that there is.

A year in pictures, x

i. october

Leaves turning. Still dreaming. October.

New York - baked goods

We all know I'm only in it for the baked goods.
Tell me where to get the baked goods.
I need the baked goods.
Baked Goods.
Yum.

* bread, buns, cake, donut, muffin, bagel, baklava, pastry, cheesecake, cupcake. I don't care. I want them all. I NEED them all.


. vesuvio bakery, bt tomefran

New York - dinner

cheap, fun, easy, relaxed, delicious.

OR

decadent, once-in-a-trip-to-New-York-put-on-your-glad-rags, delicious.

OR

something in between, delicious.



. padron pizza by Brian W Ferry

New York - luncheon

So breakfast was lovely, eggs perfectly poached and served with the freshest toasted sourdough and freshly roasted black coffee.

And then you shopped, or galleried or maybe you took some photographs of people and streets and all the life of the city, either way it was a perfect New York morning.

Now you're hungry. It's lunch time. You need to rest after the morning and refuel for the afternoon ahead. Where do you go? What do you eat?


. Corner Cafe (in the West Village) by the Cheshire Smile.

New York - breakfast

When the boy and I stayed in New York four years ago we stayed at the YMCA (hello cheapesrt accommodation in town). The best bit about this was the breakfast voucher (closely followed by the communal showers).

Every day we went to a diner on the corner, clutching our laminated vouchers entitling us to truly obscene quantities of French toast or pancakes (American, not European. It has recently come to my attention that when I say 'pancakes' Americans think of those firm foam pads that are essentially a sponge for maple syrup whereas Europeans know that I'm talking about crepes; wafer thin, perfectly mottled, rollable pancakes topped with fresh lemon juice and crunchy sugar. But I digress...)

This was great for the first three days while we revelled in whole jugs of syrup and endless coffee refills but on the fourth day I felt bloated at the mere sight of that breakfast voucher and turned to the boy who was also clutching kind of desperately at his stomach and asked him if we could just go somewhere and find some fruit.

So. Breakfast. American with white flour, sugar and fried goods or European with yoghurt, fruit, croissants, butter, jam and easy on the syrup. Porridge with cinnamon and raisins, toast with marmalade and tea. Eggs poached, fried, boiled. With toast soldiers or with a side of brioche.

Where in the city of New York can I find a perfect breakfast? Anywhere, any style, any price. I love me some breakfast.


*eggs. by The Cheshire Smile.

A little recipe....

Swedish Cinnamon Whirls.


While I wait and wait for time to create new glories I shall relive past ones. And finally give you the recipe I once promised.

I have been obsessed with cinnamon whirls since I bought one in a fancy Swedish bakery in Edinburgh and dear god was it beautiful. Unlike anything I have ever tasted. There was none of that sugary sickly icing crap that you get on your average cinnamon bun, just a small sprinkling of what I have come to know is called pearl sugar. They were almost chewy, slightly bagelish in texture and they had a hint of something exotic in them, an intriguing taste of something magical, cardamom.

For weeks after that bun I fantasised about it. I daydreamed, I lusted, I poked and needled the Boy to take me back there for another one. And then one day I was struck with the realisation that I had an oven, I had flour, I had yeast and cinnamon. Goddammit, I could make my own! And so I did.

As always I tried to follow just one recipe and as always I found it impossible. One recipe is never enough, never quite right. The method weird, ingredients obscure. Two recipes though? Two recipes is best. Take what you like, throw away what you don't and maybe add a little something altogether new. Mostly this method works (sometimes it doesn't, but let's gloss over that ok?) and this time it was glorious.

The Ingredients;


Dough:
20g of dried yeast
1 egg
250ml milk at room temperature
500g plain flour
100g demerara sugar
150g softened butter
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp ground cardamom


Filling:
40g softened butter
3 tablespoons demerara sugar
2 tsp ground cinnamon


Glaze:
1 egg, beaten
1/2 tsp water
pinch of salt


The Method;

preheat the oven to gas mark 8 (23o degrees c)

mix the flour, sugar, salt, cardamom and yeast together in a big bowl (big I tell you, this shit's going to grow)

melt the butter and whisk it up with the milk and eggs and then stir this into the flour mixture

knead by hand, or, if you've just been given a shiny new kitchen mixer use the dough hook attachment thingy and knead until it's all smooth and springy and beautiful

form it into a ball, oil your big bowl a little, put the dough back in and leave it to rise for about 25 minutes




After 25 minutes or so roll the dough out into a rectangle on a lightly floured surface until it is about 5mm thick. It should be about twice as long as it is wide

mix up the filling ingredients in a small bowl. You're supposed to use 'softened' butter and make a kind of paste. Our butter is never soft as we live in A Very Cold Country and we don't have a microwave so I melted it in a pan, mixed in the sugar and cinnamon and then brushed the resultant buttery loveliness over the dough. This worked. (make sure you cover ALL of the dough, right up to the edges)

now roll. Roll up the rectangle into a big sausage (long ways. Or is it width ways? Whatever. It should be a long skinny sausage, not a short fat sausage) and cut the roll into 2cm slices

line a baking tray (roughly 20x30cm) with baking parchment and then place in all of the rounds, varying where the big ones from the middle and the littler ones from the ends go, with the swirly sides up. They don't need to be terribly snug as they'll puff up and get all friendly with each other before you know it.

Mix up the egg, water and salt for the glaze and brush it over every bit you can reach

Leave for 15 minutes to get duly puffy and then put in the oven and cook for 20-25 minutes until they're golden and lovely. It seems quite impossible to cook them without some bits going very dark while others remain only just cooked (see above) but I don't think that matters really. The burnt bits are yummy and it stops them looking too professional which personally I think improves the taste.

Life the sheet of parchment out of the tin straight away once they're ready otherwise they will start to get soggy bottoms and then slide what should now be a whole sheet of pastry off the baking parchment and on to a cooling rack.

While they cool brew up some terribly strong, freshly ground coffee.





Once the coffee is ready get out your flowery china, or if flowers don't do it for you get out your china of choice. Pour the terribly strong coffee into tiny cups and tear a piece of cinnamon whirl from the whole. Enjoy then repeat.


It is ok to repeat as often as necessary as there is no icing on these whirls, which whips them far from the realms of naughtiness into a perfectly wholesome treat. Obviously.

Of course if you feel the need to ice them I won't tell anyone.





The Boy's verdict?

'They taste very professional'

'I know, but do you like them?'

'No, I don't like cinnamon.'

'What? But they're delicious. And they taste professional.'

'Yeah. I still don't like cinnamon'

'pffff. Freak' muttered while walking away, clutching a twirl.





I've since found a recipe for Schnecken. Which I quote from Nigella Lawson's How to Be a Domestic Goddess;

"...means 'snails' which is what these German-American coiled buns resemble. They are like Norwegian cinnamon buns, only more so. By which I mean they are stickier, puffier, gooier and generally more over the top. God, I love them.'

I can't wait to try them and this time I might even remember to take pictures of the process. Imagine that?

Bun love

Nibbles for poo days. Swedish Cinnamon Buns. Very very yummy. I'll share the recipe next week, once I've found the old envelope I wrote it down on.

. photos by me

Heavy Bread

Heavy Irish Bread.




Mix the following....

200g of plain white flour
350g of wholewheat flour
50g of wheatbran
25g of wheatgerm
2 heaped teaspoons of baking powder
half a teaspoon of bicarbonate of soda
1 teaspoon of salt



Add

1 tablespoon of sesame seeds
1 tablespoon of poppy seeds
2 tablespoons of sunflower seeds
2 tablespoon of linseeds
2 tablespoons of pumpkin seeds
2 tablespoons of unshelled hemp seeds



mix it all up



Add one tablespoon of molasses or treacle



and 650ml of water



mix well
(it will be very sticky but it's supposed to be)
then empty into a 2lb loaf tin.



bake at 180C for 1 hour then test with a skewer and if it's still sticky bake it for another 10 minutes or until the skewer comes out clean.




Allow to cool on a wire rack then smother a slice with marmalade and enjoy with a cup of tea.



notes;

* any seeds in any quantities will do really, as long as they add up to about 10 or 12 tablespoons. I love unshelled hemp seeds because they're so crunchy and have a delicious nutty taste but I've yet to make a loaf of bread that hasn't had at least a few very mouldy tasting ones in it. Those few seeds are horrible but they haven't killed me and I feel that they're an adequate price to pay for the yummy ones. If you object to the occasional mouldy mouthful you might want to replace them with something less high risk.

* the bread will keep for three days maximum before it starts to go bad. If you won't eat it that fast then cutting it into slices and then freezing it is a good idea as it makes delicious toast, although it will resist. This is hardcore bread which needs a firm hand, toast it once to defrost it then twice more to turn it crispy. Do not give it, do not show weakness, you tell that bread who's the boss.

*it's not necessary to line the tin with baking parchment, I don't think that the bread sticks. I just don't trust non-stick coating and I haven't managed to find a bread tin that isn't non-sticky yet.

* this recipe is adapted from Avoca's multiseed brown bread with fruit recipe. My version has more seeds and no dried apricots or sultanas. It's vegan and it comes out of the oven cooked rather than raw in the middle. It's better.

. image by me

Figs and hearts

I'm not sure I like figs. I'm not sure why I'm not sure I like figs. I'm not sure I've ever had a fig.

I'm sure I like this picture though.


. heart shaped beech chopping board and image by Decorative Country Living

baking bread...

The bulk of my diet at the moment is made up of this Irish bread that the brother in law's girlfriend gave me the recipe for. I love it. It's a meal in one slice of toast.

It's made with seeds (hemp, pumpkin, poppy, sesame, flax and sunflower), wheat bran, wheat germ, wholewheat flour, plain flour (it doesn't work if you accidentally replace the plain flour with icing sugar. Just sayin), molasses, salt, baking powder and water. Good wholesome Oirish bread with no funny business. And no yeast, which I like as it's something I'm not entirely convinced by (of course I like ketchup and pizza too much to actually give it up, but this eliminating it without really trying thing makes me smile) and I'm too lazy for all that kneeding crap.

It is as heavy as a brick (1.7kg to be precise. Has anyone seen About a Boy? That bit with the bread and the duck springs to mind) and it needs cooked for about three days. And it does funny things to your tummy. And it's as addictive as crack cocaine (which might explain the effect it has on my belly), but I love it. Measuring and pouring and stirring and baking. So good for the soul.


. photos by me

leaves and lime...

The Boy and I have discovered Sri Lankan food and with it I have rediscovered my love of cooking. I got bored with cooking about two years ago, but that was before I discovered the curry leaf and Madhur Jaffrey's World Vegetarian. Oh the curry leaf, what a magical food stuff, what a delicious flavouring, what a delightful ingredient. Food has never tasted so good.

We have now replaced the tomato sauce and brown rice that we have been eating pretty much every day for two years with tomato sambal and Sri Lankan yellow rice, a similar but far more interesting and delicious meal. For now. Perhaps when we've been eating it for two years straight we'll be bored of it too, but for now I could (and quite often do) eat it every day...

Tomato Sambal

Slice 450g of ripe, red tomatoes very thinnly, lay on a plate and sprinkle with two teaspoons of salt and one and half teaspoons of finest chilli powder. Alternatively use two cans of peeled plum tomatoes, drained and sliced thinnly. This will make a thicker, richer and equally delicious sauce.

In a large frying pan, over a medium high heat warm six tablespoons of olive oil. When hot add four slightly crushed, unpeeled garlic cloves, stirring them and frying them until they turn golden brown. Add 15 curry leaves (or more if you're finding yourself hopelessly addicted to them) and a three inch stick of cinnamon (or quarter of a teaspoon of ground cinnamon, should you have run out of the sticks). Stir once or twice then add two medium sized onions, cut into very fine slices.

Add the sliced tomatoes and four finely sliced garlic cloves, stir and simmer for two minutes. Turn down the heat and continue to cook for twenty minutes to half an hour, stirring occassionally.

Squeeze in two tablespoons of fresh lime juice, picking out any pips that fall in and add one teaspoon of caster sugar, stirring well to mix. Remove the slightly crushed, unpeeled garlic cloves and the cinnamon stick if you used one before serving.

Serve with any rice or bean dish, perhaps with fresh bread to wipe clean the plate and a cool glass of old fashioned lemonade or a light, golden Scottish ale.

Lusting after.....

Cold beverage jar from Crate and Barrel.

These would be perfect for our outdoor buffet and barbecue. Either for water with pretties floating in it or for homemade lemonade, if we manage to get round to making any.

I've got a feeling that postage to the UK would cost a small fortune though. Sigh.


Via enjoy : {the blog}