Christmas cake

(There’s no photo to accompany this post, as I ate the evidence. It closely resembled the version in the Guardian blog post I refer to below)

It’s sometimes said that the perfect human face resembles the average of every person in the world. Sometimes I think a similar idea can apply to food. In recent weeks, when researching some of the things I’ve baked, I’ve been surprised at the range of opinions out there. A lot of recipes include a ‘twist’ that can be as much gimmick as innovation.

It’s no surprise then that I’m a big fan of Felicity Cloake’s ‘Perfect’ posts on The Guardian’s ‘Word of Mouth’ blog. Each week she takes a popular dish and tries recipes from a range of sources, finishing with her ‘perfect’ version.

Her Christmas Cake post experiments with dark and light sugars, compares soaking the fruit in rum, brandy and whisky, and tries Nigella Lawson’s suggestion of adding chestnut purée.

The quantities given are for a 20cm cake tin, whereas mine was 22.5cm in diameter. That ends up being a 25% greater area, so it was actually quite easy to scale everything up by that amount – for instance, using 5 eggs instead of 4. Still, the final cake was quite a lot shallower than I’m used to, so I’d consider increasing the quantities further.

Her final recipe produces a cake that is light, fruity and spicy, and I’ll use it again next year.

Sultana scones

I’m not a fan of the thick clotted cream normally served with scones. Maybe I’m uncomfortable with so much unhealthy food in plain view, but I also simply don’t like the taste.

Not having made these before, I wanted to find a ‘definitive’ recipe but I was surprised at the variation between different sources.

In the end I settled on a version from Richard Bertinet’s reliable Dough book. It has an interesting twist, incorporating double cream into the scone itself. This suits me as they have a subtle creamy flavour and I can keep a batch in the freezer, defrosting one for breakfast whenever I like.

I was a little suspicious of the amount of baking powder in this recipe (40g for 600g flour) but thought it better to trust the author. Some of the scones did look as if they had risen a little enthusiastically, so I’d reduce the amount next time.

Strawberry jam is traditional here but I served them with raspberry jam – I thought the slight tartness of raspberries worked particularly well.

Eccles cakes


A minor problem threatened this week’s baking. I had wanted to make a Christmas cake but my oven broke, forcing me to change my plans. Luckily I also have a combination microwave with a convection oven, but it’s far too small to bake a cake in, so I switched to something else which I’d had been thinking of recently.

Eccles cakes are beautifully simple confections of flaky pastry filled with currants, sugar, butter, peel and nutmeg, named after the Lancashire town from where they originate.

I recently picked up my first Delia Smith cookbook. Her recipes have stood the test of time and have a reputation for reliability. However, on reading the recipe I was a little sceptical:

Put a teaspoon of the filling on to each round, then brush the edge of half the circle of pastry with water, and bring the other side up and seal it. Then bring the corners up to the centre, and pinch to seal well. Now turn your sealed pastry parcel over, so that the seam is underneath, then gently roll the whole thing to flatten it to about ¼ inch thick (½ cm),

It seemed to me that this would lead to a thick pastry base with only a thin covering on the top, and that’s how it worked out. I found it impossible to roll the cakes without currants becoming embedded in the top of the pastry, and the end result looked more like a Garibaldi biscuit.

I switched to a different technique, from a recipe by Fergus Henderson of St John restaurant.

Roll the pastry out to 8mm (¼in) thick and cut 12cm (5in) circles. Spoon a blob of filling into the centre, and pull up the sides to cover the filling. Seal with your fingers, then turn it over and slash the top three times

This worked much better, and the cakes were larger too – as they should be. A further issue I have with the Delia version is the inclusion of cinnamon, which gives them a Christmassy flavour. Not inappropriate for this time of year, but something as simple and traditional as an Eccles cake needs no improvement.

Granary bread


When this loaf of bread came out of the oven, I couldn’t stop looking at it. From every angle, it looked beautiful.

After letting it cool completely, I cut a slice and was disappointed to see that it was still a little doughy. This was despite cooking it for a few minutes longer than the maximum recommended time – to avoid exactly this problem. I knew that in the centre, it would be quite underdone.

Unsure what to do, and feeling pretty disappointed now, I remembered that the oven was still hot. I put the loaf back in for a further 30 minutes and patiently waited for it to cool. Many hours after starting this little adventure, I cut into it again and it was… pretty good. Not perfect, but every bit as good as I’d hoped for as I started mixing the flour and water that morning.

Never one to miss an opportunity to buy a new kitchen gadget, a cooking thermometer is looking like an essential purchase. I don’t have the experience to judge whether bread is cooked purely by sight or touch, and a thermometer will give me the all-important internal temperature of the loaf.

I’ve since discovered that authentic ex-factory Hovis bread tins are available on eBay. I’m tempted to pick one up, but I don’t think any square loaf could ever look as pretty as this one.

(This is the ‘malted grain bread’ recipe from the River Cottage Bread Handbook, made with Hovis Granary flour)

Crumpets

The distinctive holes that form in crumpets as they cook give them an ability to hold an astonishing amount of butter, which is the traditional (and best) way to eat them.

This is another recipe from the wonderful River Cottage Bread Handbook, also published in The Guardian.

The importance of precision in baking is well known. I aim to follow an unfamiliar recipe exactly as written until I become familiar with it and can adapt it to suit my tastes. What I learned today though was just how much truth a single sentence can hold:

 If lots of holes don’t form, it’s too thick, so whisk in some water.

This was a recipe for 12 crumpets, but in the end it made 18. I could fit three crumpet rings in my frying pan, giving me six batches, each an opportunity to improve on the batch before. A couple of minutes after ladling the batter into the first ring, bubbles started to form on the surface.

…after five minutes or so, when the surface is just set…

After five minutes they were nowhere being set. They took a full ten minutes to reach this stage – twice the advertised time. Over the next hour, I became determined to hit what I now saw as a target. Adjusting the heat and the amount of batter in each ring I finally managed this, but the underside was dark and nearly burnt.

At each step of a recipe, the careful cook will act, check and move on. When I found that the crumpets weren’t set after nearly ten minutes, it was obvious that something was wrong. Only later did I realise that my mistake had happened earlier, and was quite subtle. When those first bubbles appeared, I thought I was on the right track, and carried on. Looking back, there weren’t bubbles across the whole surface. I should have added a little more water. Perhaps I could then have turned the heat up a little, and hit my all-important five minute target without the crumpets burning.

A recipe is more than a list of instructions to be followed and forgotten. Every action has consequences for what happens after. To master a recipe is not just to memorise it. It requires a deep understanding too.

The first crumpet I made turned out to be the best of them all.

The Good Eating Company

Earlier this evening I had the pleasure of taking part in a cupcake and muffin workshop with a chef from The Good Eating Company, which operates our staff canteen.

I’ve always been impressed with the range and quality of food that comes from this kitchen every day, and perhaps the most fascinating part of the evening was getting some understanding of how this is done. The professional equipment certainly helps – the free-standing mixer is part kitchen gadget, part power tool.

What I learned is the difference that a little confidence can make. That often comes from experience, but a little encouragement also helps. There are some skills where being cautious leads to worse results, whether it’s piping cupcake mixture into their cases, or peeling long decorative strands from a lemon with a zester. You just have to go for it.

As a parting gift, to our surprise, we were each given a beautifully presented bag of ingredients for making our own cupcakes.

Thanks to everyone involved for organising this very enjoyable event.

Lemon curd marble muffins

Lemon curd was in that category of foods that I’d tried once a long time ago and, for whatever reason, didn’t enjoy and never touched again. I gave it another chance recently, on a late-summer family holiday in the Algarve.

I quickly developed a taste for it, spread thickly on warm croissants for breakfast each morning. I was very pleased then to see this recipe in Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall’s River Cottage Every Day.

The lemon curd gives a fresh, tangy flavour which is quite different to most ‘lemon flavoured’ commercial products available.

I’m tempted to make these again, perhaps larger this time – Starbucks style – with a dollop of lemon curd in the middle as a surprise.

Muffins

No, not muffins. Muffins.

It’s easy to see baking as somehow separate to cooking. If you lead a busy life, it can be hard to find the time for it and when you do set aside a couple of hours, the result is often more cakes, biscuits or bread than you know what to do with! An obvious answer to this is to bake something that will form part of a meal.

Muffins are a versatile breakfast ingredient. An essential component of Eggs Benedict, they are equally good simply toasted and buttered – their slight sour note works particularly well with the sweetness of unsalted butter (I recommend the French President brand.)

I followed a recipe from The River Cottage Bread Handbook, which is an extremely handsome book, the third in a series which I hadn’t been aware of until a friend loaned me his copy. It has a good mix of basic techniques, clear photography and tempting but down-to-earth recipes.

The full recipe is available on The Guardian website.

As these muffins are cooked stove-top, I missed one of the aspects of baking that I’d quickly become accustomed to – precision. What is ‘medium heat’ on a gas hob? I found that they needed double the suggested 10-12 minute cooking time.

Whether your next Sunday breakfast is simple or indulgent, the inclusion of freshly baked muffins will see you start the day with a smile.

Ciabatta

Ciabatta ready to bake

In recent weeks I’ve tried a number of sweet recipes – Chelsea Buns, macarons, and some great chocolate & raspberry jam brownies from Ottolenghi: The Cookbook. Each of these introduced me to new techniques, and gave me more confidence. Now it was time for something savoury, and bread seemed a good place to start.

Like many people who like good bread, years ago I thought a breadmaker was the answer, but the end result is often disappointing and nothing like a good oven-baked loaf. I’ve made bread a few times before so wanted to try something a little more technically challenging.

Richard Bertinet’s excellent book Dough has a recipe for Ciabatta, and usefully comes with a DVD showing some basic techniques. I found this particularly useful, as often when faced with a dough that seems too sticky, I’ve just added extra flour. This time, following the advice in the video, I continued to work the dough, and after a few minutes – to my genuine surprise – it came together perfectly. After that point it was extremely easy to handle and shape.

And the result?

Ciabatta

In all honesty I can’t say I was completely happy with the result. The exterior looked great, but inside there weren’t enough of the large air bubbles that ciabatta is known for. Still, I’m learning with every new thing I bake. For now, I’m just following recipes, but as the weeks go by I hope to gain some real insight into this complex subject, and develop the judgement and instincts I need to become a better baker!

Cake pops

This morning I was at Palmers Green market in north London, supporting my talented friend Tamsin who was selling these attractive cake pops. Popularised by Angie Dudley in her Bakerella blog, and now the subject of a book by the same writer, these mini cakes on sticks are beautiful and delicious.

Apart from the obvious skill involved in their decoration, they’re quite simple to make – although very time consuming. First you bake a cake, then crumble it into a bowl and mix with frosting, adding flavourings such as lemon or vanilla. After shaping into a ball and refrigerating for a while, you then dip into a chocolate-based coating and leave to dry.

Perhaps the secret to their success is their versatility – brightly coloured ones such as these are great for kids, but they also lend themselves to more sophisticated designs – ideal for for place settings at a wedding, or party favours.

With Halloween coming up, the ghostly cake pops below were a popular choice. You can see here the detail and craft that go into each design.

Tamsin makes cake pops to order, contact tamsin@definitelycake.com www.definitelycake.com