Friday Night Slice...

The great thing about pizza, and this will come as no bombshell if you have ever read a  delivery menu, is that anything goes. From traditional margarita, or the potato, cream and bacon creation eaten whilst skiing at new year (definite carb-on-carb action going on there..) to my very favourite University staple of ground lamb, aubergine and feta (yup, moussaka pizza please,) thin, crispy, or even deep, soft bases have become the ultimate canvas for kitchen creativity. The ideal way to use up the weird and wonderful goodies left in the fridge at the end of the week, or perhaps just another excuse to indulge your sweet tooth (pizza smothered in Nutella and banana has, of late, become a definite, if slightly sickly, yes..) the pizza is King.  And long may it reign...

Originating in Naples, pizza is now rolled out all over the world, the ultimate fast food, universally loved and endlessly supplied by pizzerias on almost every corner, kneading, cheese scattering and stone baking to order. London alone has embraced Pizza culture to the mozzarella tearing max, with pizza focused rooftop supper clubs in Bethnal Green, two ping-pong and pizza bars (a combination that I never knew I needed but now seems to go together like tea and toast), haunts selling only cornmeal based pies, along with all the usual chainy suspects, keeping the capital  in endless supply.

But there is no wonder that pizza is so deliciously popular. It is the perfect snack on the go, can be rustled up in a flash and has been known to encourage even the worst of sharers (mentioning no names, but I am referring to my boyfriend) to delve in for a communal slice. It is the ultimate fast food and we love it; so much so that there is even a real-life blog dedicated solely to pictures of  famous people eating pizza. Anyone for Beyonce scoffing a margarita? Mrs Obama with an American hot? And no, this time I don't mean Barack...

So, as there is no better Friday night treat, excluding a real-life rendition of Magic Mike in your living room, or perhaps winning the euro-millions, than a big slice of delicious homemade pizza, washed down with an even bigger glass of (preferably not-homemade) wine, what better recipe to offer you this fine evening.

Loaded with amazing, vibrant toppings, scattered with beautifully fragrant basil, lemon zest and strewn with melting mozzarella that glistens like a baby-oiled Channing Tatum (on the mind, clearly) there is nothing not to like about pizza, and these ones in particular. With thin and crispy bases, a sweet and punchy tomato sauce and a world of toppings to choose from, Friday nights in are back to their best after a cold, grey January; particularly if you have some tasty leftovers ready and waiting in the fridge.

On this occasion, my favourite place in the house held a bounty of goodies, to the point that I actually lost a beer in some kind of bottle rack black hole that has only just turned up a week later...But anyway, thankfully not everything in the fridge went the same way, and I did manage to produce some treats from the depths, ready to adorn my pizzas. Cue slicing of Chorizo  marinating of prawns, ribbonning of courgettes and of course dripping the juice from a bag of mozzarella, Hansel and Gretel style, all the way from the sink to the oven. An unavoidable feature of pizza making, but worth it all the same.

So after mopping the floor with your sock, get the rolling pin ready, flour scattered and oven on, STAT. Lets see if we can knock these beauties out before the end of Silent Witness. I want something slightly more tasty than a cushion to hide behind this week..

 Friday-Night Pizza

Obviously, this is not a solely Friday specific recipe, roll away whatever the occasion, and be creative with the toppings...I adapted the traditional American Hot with what I had; chorizo, peppers, chilli, paprika and goats cheese, which ended up being more of a Spanish creation, whilst the combination of garlicky prawns, courgette ribbons, cherry tomatoes and lemon creme fraiche was a real winner too. And the yumminess doesn't end there, raid the fridge and just go for it!

Pizza Dough (makes 3 thin 14x10 inch pizzas)

300g strong bread flour
1x7g sachet fast-action yeast
1 heaped teaspoon salt
3 tbsp olive oil
175ml warm water

Tomato Sauce

1 onion, chopped
1 clove garlic, chopped
1 tin tomatoes
2 tsp sugar
1 tbsp red wine vinegar
1 tsp oregano (dried or freshly chopped)
1 tbsp tomato puree

Garlicky Prawn, Courgette and Creme Fraiche Topping
1 pack king prawns
1 lemon, zest and juice
1 clove garlic, crushed
Half a courgette, ribbonned using a peeler
Creme Fraiche
Fresh basil leaves, lemon zest and shaved parmesan, to serve

Spanish  Hot Topping
Half a chorizo, sliced
Half a red, orange or yellow pepper, sliced
1 red onion, sliced
1 red chilli, sliced
100g soft goats cheese
1 tsp paprika
Rocket and parmesan shavings, to serve

Preheat the oven to 240°c.

First of all, or even a day or so in advance, I usually crack on with the tomato sauce, leaving it to bubble away until the toppings and base are ready (although, obviously put it in the fridge if you are making it in advance...There is only so much bubbling it can do!)
In a saucepan, fry the onion and garlic in olive oil until softened. Add the rest of the ingredients, season and allow to reduce to a thick sauce. If you are in a rush, you can always use ready made sauce, or just tomato puree, but this is delish!

While the sauce is cooking, make the dough. In a large bowl, mix the flour, salt and yeast. Make a well in the centre and add the oil and water, mixing together with a wooden spoon to combine.
At this stage, if you haven't just painted your Friday night nails, get your hands in there and bring everything together to form a ball.
Turn out on to a floured surface and knead for 8 minutes by hand, thinking of your bingo-wings at all times.
Divide into 3 balls, roll out very thinly into whatever shape you fancy, before transferring to an oiled baking tray. Cover with cling film until needed

If making the prawn pizza, I like to marinate the prawns in the juice and zest of half a lemon, the garlic and salt and pepper. I also mix the creme fraiche with some lemon zest and juice and season, but keep it simple if you are short of time.

When almost ready to eat, with open beers and something good on the telly, spread the sauce on the pizza bases, arrange your chosen toppings and cheese, season, and bake for about 8-10 minutes or until the bases are lightly browned and crispy.

Scatter over the basil, parmesan, lemon zest or rocket accordingly and dig in!

On Your Marks, Get Set, BAKE OFF!

It is back; kneading its way on to TV screens near you every night this week, hold on tight for four hours worth of cakes, floral bomber jackets, burnt choux buns and soggy bottoms. Yes, the show that would be nothing without a shot of a passing (but hopefully not flashing) squirrel is back, my favourite contest of them all, The Great British Bake Off. In aid of Comic Relief, Queen Berry, the Silver Fox and the blonde half of Mel and Sue return, to guide, chastise and comfort a select group of celebrities as they burn their sponges, over-season their scones, puzzle over blind baking and drop around 80% of everything they produce from the oven.

It is entirely unsurprising, and utterly unfortunate for my waistline, that The Great British Bake Off (GBBO to its friends) is right up my biscuit-paved street. The combination of cake, Paul Hollywood wearing his favourite supply teacher outfit and best steel-eyed glower, some dodgy looking squirrels and a marquee is, for me, a match made in TV heaven- And I must admit that the Red nosed edition is my absolute favourite. With the same tension as the original show, Paul Hollywood’s glare immediately striking any pretender from their stool (bought in bulk when Westlife went their separate ways) if even a whiff of over-worked biscuit is detected, and the classic wistful gaze of the contestants as they try to figure out why on earth they decided to make a cake in the shape of a cliff as the ovens are finally turned off and we can all relax once again, 8 o’clock is complete once more. Even if the majority of what emerges from the celebrity ovens can be deemed a success if they resemble anything even vaguely safe for human consumption, let alone the Croc en Bouches and Sachertortes of the original series, watching Claudia Winkleman murder a lemon meringue is entirely worth its weight in gold plated cake slices.

The love of the Bake Off runs deep in the Gaffer-House. My Mum, who updated her Facebook status more during the first episode than during the whole of last year, has quite seriously declared on several occasions that she would vote for Mazza (Berry not MCcartney) as Prime Minister... But wouldn’t we all, the Cornish Pasty tax would be out quicker than you can say ‘custard slice’.

And it definitely runs in the family. I mean what could possibly be wrong with mixing the Mary Godmother, a dragon fresh from the den, and the frosty Queen of Newsnight with a metre high gateaux and a Madeira cake Soldier? Which, whilst sadly not the tagline for ‘Great British Bake Off the Pantomime’, sums up the real-life joys served up so far this week...Cue flaming puff pastry, flying biscuits, Jo Brand sitting on her butter, the wicked witch berating someone’s soggy bottom (Paul Hollywood of course) and a more than liberal scattering of innuendo.

It had to be done...

But behind all of the portrait cake making frivolity (I can honestly think of nothing more terrifying than being presented with a gateaux with my own face emblazoned upon it in glitter,) the show has been produced with a serious message running through its sweet, spongy centre. Comic Relief is a charity that pops up onto our screens every year in the chirpy form of Red Nose Day. Supporting projects across the UK and abroad all year round; helping victims of domestic abuse, to young carers, to people affected by HIV and AIDS; the charity is such an important and worthy cause.

And this year, using the Bake Off as inspiration, is the year to get cooking. Hold a bake sale in the school hall, take a tin of red nose emblazoned cupcakes to work; even if you make biscuits that could be used as anti-aircraft weapons, just think, if Jo Brand can do it, then so can you.

And if you are out of inspiration, maybe give these super-easy, super-scrummy raspberry and almond jammy-dodger style biscuits a go; their ruby red noses fit the bill just perfectly. Go on, Mary would want you to...

Red Nose Biscuits

165g butter

100g golden caster sugar

Pinch of salt

110g ground almonds

200g plain flour

Zest of 1 lemon

Raspberry jam

Preheat the oven to 160^oc.

In a large bowl, cream together the butter, sugar and salt until light and fluffy, preferably using a hand mixer, unless you have extra large arm muscles.

Add the flour, almonds and zest and mix until just combined, before bringing the mixture together with your hands to form a smooth ball. Wrap in cling film and refridgerate for 30 minutes, or unilt ready to roll out.

On a floured surface, roll the dough until 0.5cm thick, and cut using a medium round cutter. To achieve the desired ‘red nose’ effect, cut a smaller hole in the middle of half of the biscuits.

Bake on a greased baking tray for 15 minutes, or until barely coloured. Leave to cool on the tray for at least 10 minutes before carefully transferring to a cooling rack using a palette knife.

Spread around a teaspoon of the jam (also delicious with lemon curd on less charitable days, or how about custard shortbreads with rhubarb jam?) on to the non-holey biscuit and sandwich with the holey one!

Dust with icing sugar if you wish and voila, go make some money for Comic Relief!

Sundays, Snow and Soup...

I’m going to start this post the only way appropriate at present- with a news flash, some hot off the press, brand new information that I am sure you will be very excited to hear about. Prepare yourself; here goes...IT IS SNOWING!! Phewee, so glad I've got that off my chest; as I’m sure those of you who have been living in a hole for the past few days and have somehow missed the onslaught of amber weather warnings and snow-themed facebook updates will be too...

Yes, Britain has gone snow-crazy. We are in the midst of the utterly brilliant pandemonium that grips the country as soon as the first flakes flutter from the heavy grey skies, and, lo-and-behold, panic stations please, actually settle on the pavements. All of a sudden local radio listening figures go up by 80%, carrots become snowman making gold dust, and the shelves of many a local shop are stripped of bread and milk as we come to the absolutely terrifying realisation that we may, perish the thought, run out of tea and toast. Could life get any worse? Well, yes, actually. The snow, in addition to magically surfacing the sledge from the forgotten depths of the garage, also never fails to encourage the moaners and pessimists out of the woodwork, primed and ready to complain about how ‘this wouldn’t happen if we lived in Canada’...Probably not, but we don’t, and I for one LOVE IT. 

Yup, snow Days, although slightly less exciting now than when getting a free day off school, are still right up there on my list of favourite things. And no matter how many winters pass in which I am not huddled around the radio waiting for that precious closure announcement, there is still something magical about looking out of the window and seeing the garden transformed by a big, fluffy duvet of the white stuff. Cue throwing on some mittens (the sole occasion for which a fingerless hand is entirely practical..) running around the garden in the erratic fashion only appropriate in the snow, making a huge snowman, and then warming up with a big bowl of something delicious.

So, this weekend, in between lovingly constructing the aforementioned snowman, and being pushed over multiple times by my supposedly caring boyfriend (it is an unfortunate truth that snow also makes rugby tackling people in public entirely acceptable) I made this warming roasted tomato, cannellini bean and rosemary soup; just what I needed after extracting a vast amount of snow from down the front of my jumper.

Great for days when you can’t possibly brave the arctic conditions to pop to the shop, adapt this recipe as you please; substitute fresh tomatoes for tinned, cannellini for butter beans. Soup is absolutely made for this kind of weather, the hot water bottle of the food world; just don’t take this one to bed with you...

Roasted Tomato, Cannellini Bean and Rosemary Soup.

1 onion, chopped

2 cloves garlic, finely chopped

2 carrots, diced

2 celery sticks, diced

8 tomatoes, chopped

1 red pepper, chopped

1 tin cannellini beans

500 ml vegetable stock

1 bay leaf

A few sprigs of fresh rosemary, or a couple of teaspoons of the dried stuff

Preheat the oven to 180^oc.

Arrange the tomatoes, pepper and a sprig of rosemary in an ovenproof dish before tossing in a little olive oil and seasoning well with salt and pepper. Roast in the oven for about 25 minutes.

Meanwhile, in a large saucepan, fry the onion, garlic, celery and carrot gently in a little olive oil. Add the roasted peppers and tomatoes (with their juices), the tin of beans (you can drain if you like but I don’t usually bother!) and sauté for a few minutes.

Add the stock, bay leaves and the rosemary (minus the woody stalks) and simmer gently for about 20 minutes.

Season well, remove from the heat and liquidise until smooth, adding more liquid if the soup is too thick. Souper! (Sorry...)

Let Them Eat Carrot Cake...

January. It is the dirtiest of all words used to portion our year. The month of dreary tasks; battling with inside out umbrellas as you run through freezing puddles for the bus, hoovering up pine needles that are still appearing long after the tree has fallen out of favour, finding space for the never-ending supply of Christmas bubble bath, drinking smoothies that resemble the results of a pond-dipping session but that are oh-so good for your wearisome post-Christmas bod, attempting to squeeze on a fifth jumper...

But, for me at least, January is also the month in which I allow myself to brush off the greyness with a little bit of well-earned indulgence. Well, it’s a good excuse anyway. Call it comfort eating, call it adding to your winter coat (I try to steer clear of the word blubber..) call it whatever you can muster through a big mouthful of shepherd’s pie or sticky toffee pudding; we all need something to take our minds off the sub-zero temperatures and freezing fog. Because, blimey, January would be dull without something to get our faces in to as we sit, wearing two full outfits at the same time (including hats and gloves) totally immersed in the latest crap on telly (I am indeed talking about Splash, a show made only marginally more bearable by a shirtless Tom Daley) and, as I seem to be at all times lately, absolutely starving.

It is for this reason that my darling mother and I can often be found roaming the kitchen of a January evening, staring blankly into the fridge, unsure of what we are hoping will jump out and straight into our open mouths. A little more fur and a couple fewer opposable thumbs and a David Attenborough commentary would not sound at all out of place as we open the cupboard, close it, open it again, pouncing desperately on anything to satisfy our perpetual hunger...Unfortunately, more often than not, we stumble across cake long before we reach the healthy heights of celery or anything even vaguely good for you; but hey-ho, bang goes the diet, who was I kidding anyway?

I, personally, blame my irrepressible appetite at this time of year on Christmas, the time during which we train ourselves, as though it is an Olympic event straight out of London 2012, to eat at any opportunity that happens to present itself. I mean do we really need turkey sandwiches and sausage rolls just a couple of hours after the most ridiculous sized roast dinner the world has ever seen? Of course we do, it’s Christmas; but January is not just for post-mince pie detoxing, so I for one will be throwing cake, shotput style, into my hungry mouth. 

And what better than Carrot Cake; rich, spicy, bursting with fruit and nuts, it is the sort of cake that these cold, grey (snowy) evenings are calling out for. This recipe is a bit of a mash-up of everything I have ever liked in the the many slices of cake shovelled into my mouth during my long, committed (and obviously very stressful) research for this post. It is sort of a carrot cake remix; with pieces of crushed pineapple giving bursts of sweetness and the essence of a Passion Cake, orange cream cheese icing, walnuts, and as many sunflower and pumpkin seeds as I can possibly cram in, reminding me slightly of one of those fat balls you hang in the garden to feed the birds, just rather more tasty.

I usually have a few decoration ideas up my sleeve, depending on my mood and the occasion; creamy, orange scented icing scattered with jet black poppy seeds or neon strands of orange zest. This time, as I had a few free hours (the joy of a snow day...) and the bountiful supply of coloured icing I found lurking in the cupboard, I made some adorable fondant carrots which, apart from looking just wonderful, make sure nobody is under any illusion as to what is hiding within the cake. Just roll a small ball of orange icing into a pointed sausage-type shape, score slightly with a cocktail stick, before attaching their green tops. So cute, exactly the right amount of tacky and it tastes even better than it looks...Maybe you can even get away with saying it is one of your five a day?

Carrot Cake

225g self raising flour

200g golden caster sugar

2tsp baking powder

1tsp bicarbonate of soda

2 tsp ground cinnamon

1tsp ground ginger

1tsp mixed spice

1/2tsp ground nutmeg

200ml sunflower oil

4 eggs

1 tin pineapple chunks, drained

1 handful wanuts

2 handfuls grated carrot

1 handful sunflower seeds

2 handfuls pumpkin seeds

Pinch of salt

Cream cheese icing

200g full-fat cream cheese

100g butter, softened

325g icing sugar

Zest of 1 orange

Preheat the oven to 180^oc. 

Grease and line an 8 inch loose-bottomed cake tin. 

In a large bowl, sift all of the dry ingredients together. In a separate bowl, crush the pineapple chunks and walnuts with the end of a rolling pin until sufficiently smashed (I like small chunks but feel free to have larger pieces if you fancy more of a crunch.)

In a jug, whisk together the oil and eggs before stirring into the dry ingredients until well combined. Add the finely grated carrot and pineapple mixture, as well as the seeds and fold until all of the ingredients are fully incorporated.

Pour into the cake tins, level and bake in the preheated oven until evenly risen and golden, about 50-60 minutes, or until a skewer inserted into the centre of the cake comes out clean.

Leave the cake to cool on a wire rack and start on the icing.

Using an electric whisk, beat together the butter and cream cheese, before gradually adding the sifted icing sugar. When the icing is thick but not too stiff, beat in the orange zest and chill until your cakes are properly cooled.

Sandwich the cakes together before artistically spreading the top with the icing. Decorate as you please and enjoy! I definitely will...

Shaken, Stirred and a little bit Crazy...

In the deep, dark recesses of the space under my bed, hides a few deep dark secrets. I am not talking about the entire back catalogue of Railway Lovers magazine, signed photographs of Gareth Malone (they would definitely be framed), or even, a sin to eclipse all others, a pair of bright green Crocs; but rather, about a habit that has been passed down from my mother, encouraged by my father and cemented firmly into place by Kirstie Allsopp and her Vintage Home.

I am talking, as will be no surprise to any of my friends, about my love for charity shops and collecting anything that might be useful (or just downright pretty) in the house that I do not yet even have a glimmer of owning. Still living at home with my parents, I currently own four ever expanding boxes of bowls, jugs and tea sets that I am seriously worried will continue gathering dust under the bed I have slept in since I was 7 for a long time to come. 

As my boyfriend will pay testament to, having watched with bewilderment on the many occasions that I go through these boxes, channelling the ‘Gollum seeking ‘his preccciousss’ look slightly more than I usually aim for, I cannot resist a bargain. Whether it is a set of tumblers decorated with the cutest pixies perched on toadstools, jugs crowned with porcelain strawberries,  or, as is turning out to be quite a collection, vintage cocktail shakers, I am like a magpie with a hoarding problem.

The shakers, unlike the 50s floral handkerchiefs (unused, don’t worry) that I am struggling to find a role for in my parents house, are things that I can actually drag from under the bed, dust off and use now. And use with glee, because cocktails, as I may have mentioned a few times in my last blog, are one of my very favourite things. Partly because of how creative you can be with flavour combinations and mostly because they are so wickedly easy to drink, cocktails are definitely my tipple of choice.

Perfectly at home in both the flawlessly manicured, bejewelled hands of movie stars, and the slightly less adorned mitts of students making the absolute most of happy hour, there is something about a long stemmed cocktail glass, or a tall ice filled creation crowned with a glistening maraschino cherry that is universally and perpetually classy. Although, boys, a word of warning, beware the menace of the accidentally ordered girly cocktail; there is nothing worse than brandishing a pretty pink glass garnished with a floating pansy on a date, as my boyfriend will tell you.

And the really fabulous thing about cocktails is that, with a reasonably stocked drinks cupboard and a bit of imagination, they are so easy to make at home. Just choose your base spirit; be it gin, spiced rum, vanilla vodka, and weave in flavours using juices, cordials, herbs and fresh fruit until you have a drink fit to be supped all night long, whether you are slobbing out in front of Strictly, hobnobbing in a posh frock, or, as in my case, sifting through a box of milk jugs.

Let your imagination go wild, think pear and ginger mojitos, bitter orange and cardamom martinis made with marmalade and fresh spices, blackberry and amaretto sours or, perfect for a party or BBQ when the weather is slightly less brisk, a big, jewel coloured jug of perfectly refreshing sangria.  Imagine of your favourite flavour combinations and go for it; if you love apple pie, maybe a spiced apple martini will fit the bill, if custard tarts are your thing how about some half and half mixed with a dash of amaretto, some vanilla vodka and a sprinkling of nutmeg?

My favourite ever cocktail hour, overlooking the bright lights of NYC with the girls. SATC eat your heart out.

.So whether you are preparing for a big night on the town, or simply fancy something slightly more special than a glass of squash to go with your bangers and mash, step away from that cocktail menu and have a go at making your own.

You may just be converted, even if your New Year’s resolution was to go to the gym more, drink less, eat wheatgerm. Blah, blah, maybe a few martinis will cheer you up as you hide your trainers in the dark recesses of your wardrobe, or put the juicer firmly back in to the box. Not that I am a cynic, if you are a stronger person than myself, and commit to your resolutions past the 3^rd of January, I salute you, and suggest you have a few cocktails to reward yourself...

Pear and ginger mojito.

To really ramp up the flavour of this delicious cocktail I usually try to use a delicious, and wonderfully simple, homemade pear puree. While you can buy this at the shops, I reckon that the minimal effort involved in cooking and then blending the pears is totally worth it. Not only do you get the satisfaction of throwing yourself completely into your new bartender persona (don’t forget the white apron but do try to avoid throwing glass bottles around unless you have been given some prior instruction,) but you can also add as many different flavours to this puree as you please. Try adding rosemary or vanilla for a slightly different take on the martini, or adapt the recipe to use any fruit you happen to find in the house. Easy.

Pear and ginger puree.

This will make enough puree for about 6-8 cocktails, so adapt as you please!

4 pears, skinned and chopped.

150g sugar

200ml water

1 piece plus 3 tbsp syrup from a jar of stem ginger.

To mix.

25 fresh mint leaves (or a large bunch if, like me, you think life is too short for counting.)

1 lime, chopped

1tbsp sugar

65ml spiced rum

Ginger beer, to top up.

First, make the sugar syrup, an essential cocktail ingredient that can be used in a wealth of bevies.

Combine the water and sugar in a saucepan and heat until the sugar is completely dissolved, bring to the boil and remove from the heat. The syrup can be kept in the fridge in an airtight bottle for around 6 months, perfect!

Add the pears to the syrup and cook gently until the pears are softened.

Add the ginger and syrup and blend until you have a very smooth puree (you can sieve it to make sure there are no lumps)

Now the fun begins. In a large glass, preferably made from thick glass, muddle the lime, sugar and mint together (I usually use the end of a rolling pin) until the sugar is mixed with the juice from the lime and the mint leaves are sufficiently battered.

Mix in your rum (essential) and a few tablespoons of the puree, and fill the glass to the brim with crushed ice.

Top up with the ginger beer, garnish with a sprig of mint and, as a reward for your hard work, drink.

Plum and almond sours.

Stepping away from tradition, I make my sours sans egg white. More than anything I usually can’t be bothered to separate eggs for the sake of a drink, but also, in my opinion it tastes just as good without. Add in half an egg white before you shake if you disagree, make it your own!

25 ml amaretto

25ml sloe gin

Juice of ½ lime

1tbsp sugar syrup

A dash of Angostura Bitters

1 marachino cherry and a lime wedge, to serve.

In a cocktail shaker (be careful when using glass bottomed ones, I once had a very bad experience that the floor drank more mojito than we did..) mix the good stuff (alcohol of course), the lime and sugar syrup, with a vigorous shake. Be sure to taste and add more lime, syrup or alcohol as your taste buds see fit.

Pour into a short glass, filled with ice, add a splash of bitters, and garnish with a cherry and lime wedge.

                                                                                  X

Size Matters...

Before I start any kind of waffling on about cupcakes or cookies, or indeed waffles, I feel that an apology is in order. I fear (less fear, more utter disgust at my own neglect, the last time I logged on being more than a year ago) that I have left the Kitchen Hour rather out in the cold. So much so that it has grown up and changed its name...Welcome to Relish, a (kind-of) new and (hopefully) improved blog, hopefully I have missed the awkward teenage years...

I do, however, have a few excuses that might get you back reading, and me actually filling the oven instead of using it as a radiator to defrost my frozen fingers, still struggling to adjust to the bleak winter temperatures of Suffolk in January.
As most of your probably know from the bombardment of sunny photos and annoying status updates throughout the past year, I have been on a little 6 month holiday. Yes, yes I was finding myself; wearing hessian jumpsuits, taking on sunrise yoga, reciting Eat, Pray, Love on deserted beaches, you know the drill.
Well no, me neither. The closest I got to yoga was some rather enthusiastic dance moves in dingy clubs, and I think it is entirely fair to say that my trip involved less barefoot trekking and more eating anything in sight, consuming copious amounts of cocktails and sunbathing...how alternative I hear you say, well, as someone who was obviously more successful at finding their inner ying or yang than I was once told me, 'its all about the journey.' And I returned from mine a whole lot fatter.

So as I was enduring a slow and painful cardiac arrest as I climbed the 2000 steps to Machu Pichu,  the blog took rather a back seat. But now I am home, not altogether found but, as proved by the sheer number of travelling photos involving some kind of food, still seriously committed to the art of eating. And, to boot, I now have a wealth of stories (some hopefully mildly amusing, I will leave the mystery underwear thief story for another time) and new recipe ideas that will be spilling out of my brain and onto the long left blank pages of this blog. 

And what better to start the year, and a new blog, with than a flashback to the festive season, a glimmer of what once was as we stare the most dreary month of all in the face from our overflowing desks.

This Christmas, as ever, I came over all Stepford wife. As soon as the advent calender becomes short of doors to open I go absolutely crazy for all things miniature and mixed. And although I was rather taken with my Auntie's adorable mongrel puppy in a Santa costume, it was cocktails and canapes in particular with which I was obsessed.

Whilst Christmas and the New Year are the perfect time to crack out the canapes, with more mingling and hanging around the drinks table than is ever tolerated at any other time of the year without vicious and unwelcome rumours beginning to circulate, food in miniature is surely a good idea at any time. A huge tray of varied and delicious canapes is guaranteed to inspire a gasp at any occasion, although if you, as I did, select a random Tuesday afternoon as your chosen occasion, be prepared for a few of those gasps to be followed with hushed murmurings of 'is she, you know, OK??'

But, if the time is right, try any of these sure to impress canapes and get your modest face ready to revel in the delight of your guests. Fail-safe, and universally loved Yorkshire puddings with roast beef and horseradish cream, the lightest, melt in the mouth parmesan shortbreads with roasted tomatoes and red pepper jam, smoked salmon and dill tartlets with quick pickled cucumber, corn cakes with ginger chilli prawns and mango salsa, or even, a Christmas classic, bubble and squeak with turkey and cranberry sauce. The possibilities are endless. Just think of your favourite dish and shrink it to a bitesize morsel. It is like being Willy Wonka for the day, Charlotte and the Canape Factory,I can't help thinking that making canapes is what I was born to do.

And don't let your imagination stop at the savoury, sweet things are perfectly suited to being canapized (yes, I made that word up) too. How about moist almond and orange sponges, adorned with greek yoghurt and pomegranate, dark chocolate and orange tarts with hazelnut praline, or white chocolate, orange and  rasperry profiteroles, scattered with beautiful green shards of pistachio?

Be creative, as long as you have a base to adorn with your favourite toppings (small rounds of fried bread for stilton mushrooms, pastry cases, shortbreads, bilinis for smoked salmon and crème fraiche...) the world is your oyster. In fact , if you are feeling really fancy, why not use a couple of oysters in their shells for canape vessels too? The kitchen is your playground, go fourth and miniaturise...

PS. I will be following this post with a guide to my favourite homemade (let's call them 'in-house' to sound slightly more professional..) cocktails to complete your soiree; spiced pear mojitos, sloe gin sours and elderflower gin fizz to name but a few. I will await my invite!

PPS. These are my favourite savory canape recipes, but if you are planning an evening of bite-size treats and want some more ideas and recipes, please feel free to ask..My brain is almost overflowing with all things canape! X

Yorkshire Puddings with Horseradish Cream and Roast Beef.

These get a great reaction without fail. The Yorkshire recipe (adapted from Leith's Cookery Bible) is the best I have come across, always producing perfectly risen puds with the ever desirable hole for gravy, or in this case, filling, at their centre. Try to use the smallest muffin tin you can find, mine has adorable, inch wide indentations, the prefect bitesize treat! This recipe makes around 30 canapes, but feel free to double, triple or quadruple up as you please,  or to use this recipe for full sized puddings.This one is always a winner, they will fly off the tray, I promise!

Yorkshire Puddings
110g plain flour
pinch of salt
2 eggs, beaten
290ml milk

Horseradish Cream
1tbsp Horseradish sauce
2 tbsp Creme fraiche
juice 1/2 lemon
salt and pepper

To Serve
Roast beef slices (rare, home roasted beef is the ultimate but any good quality slices from your butcher will be delicious)
A few sprigs of watercress
Freshly ground black pepper


Preheat the oven to 200^oc

To make the puddings, sift the flour and salt into a bowl.
Make a well in the centre and pour in the egg. Using a whisk mix in the egg, gradually adding flour from the edge of the well. Slowly whisk in the milk until the batter is smooth.
Cover and refrigerate for 20 minutes or until needed.
When you are ready (these will keep in an airtight container for a of days), preheat a small muffin tin filled with a small amount of oil until very hot.

Cafefully pour in a small amount of the batter (only fill the tins about half full, or the puds will be massive!) and quickly return to the oven.
Cook for about 15 minutes or until well risen and golden. Leave to cool and admire your handiwork!

To assemble, mix all the ingredients for the cream in a bowl, seasoning to taste.
Spoon a little of this mixture into each pudding and arrange a small sliver of beef and a sprig of watercress on top. Add a twist of pepper and add to your canape tray!

My Favourite Parmesan Shortbreads with Slow-Roasted Tomatoes and Pepper Jam.

These are my go-to canape. Delicious and easy to make, the shortbreads can be adapted to carry any topping. Try adding black olives to the dough and crowning with feta, roasted red onions and basil, or topping with pesto, creamy goats cheese and pinenuts. This recipe makes 40, mix up the toppings and you can guarantee no-one will get bored or hungry.

Shortbreads
60g plain flour
45g cold butter, diced
60g parmesan, grated
Pinch of salt and cayenne pepper
1/2 tsp mustard powder

Pepper Jam
I/2 red onion, thinly sliced
1 clove garlic, chopped
1/2 jar fire roasted peppers, sliced
2 tbsp red wine vinegar
2 tbsp caster sugar
Small bunch of basil, chopped
Salt and pepper

Topping
20 cherry tomatoes, halved
2 garlic cloves
Olive oil
Salt and pepper
Basil leaves
Parmesan shavings

Firstly, and this can be done a couple of days in advance, or at least on the morning of your party, arrange the tomato halves and garlic in an ovenproof dish, drizzle with olive oil and season.
Bake the tomatoes on a low heat (around 150oc) for a couple of hours or until resembling something beautifully sunblushed.
Store in an airtight container until needed.

Preheat the oven to 180oc.

Place all the ingredients for the shortbreads in a food processor and pulse to form a smooth dough.

Roll out on a floured surface to about 1/2 cm thick. Cut out with a small round cutter and place on a tray lined with greaseproof. Refrigerate for 30 minutes.
Bake for about 8 minutes, or until golden. Leave to cool completely before adding your toppings.

To make the jam, fry the onion and garlic in a little olive oil until softened. Add the sliced peppers and cook for a few minutes.
Add the vinegar and sugar and simmer until the jam is thickened and glistening. Add a little more sugar or vinegar according to your taste, before stirring in the seasoning and basil. Leave to cool.

To arrange, top the biscuits with the jam and a tomato half. Adorn with a shred of basil and a parmesan shaving, serve.

Home-Baked...

Since moving home to sleepy Suffolk, I have become a bit of a baking fiend. With no real distractions from my now rather domesticated life (the only ‘real’ club in the area resembling a grimy village hall disco for 14
year olds, and the majority of my friends having flown the countryside nest to the brighter lights of London), the kitchen scales have been getting a real bashing over the past few months. Although this, along with my recent discovery of hobbies such as sewing and scrabble, may mean that I have aged another 40 years since leaving University, I am not by any means complaining about the gradual transformation of my wine-fuelled student life into one that would not look out of place in ‘Little House on the Prairie.’ Other than meaning there is very little distraction from my quest to earn enough money to explore the Americas next year, the major increase in baking has meant that my tummy has been a lot happier. And if I am not careful, a whole lot fatter.

However, irrespective of the damage that may be done to my waistline, the delicious smell of a baking wafting through a warm house is simply too much to resist; particularly now the sharp snap of winter has finally fallen upon us. But, of course, I don’t mean that I am simply content with smelling the treats that are turned out from our oven. Even I, a serial shirker of the gym and anything exercise related, am willing to jump up and down a few times to eat a delicious homemade cake or two. I have even started to go to keep fit classes with my Mum, where she embarrassingly puts me to shame in both the fitness and coordination stakes week upon week, all in the name of letting myself eat (alot) of cake.

Living in Sheffield, on a budget that favoured extra-value rich teas over the many components that are needed to knock out cakes in a kitchen that was only ever intended to facilitate the microwaving of baked beans, home baking is a real novelty. Slowly stirring a big bowl of smooth, vanilla rich cake batter is all it takes for me to unwind after a rubbish day at work, whilst licking the spoon is the best way to make the rapidly advancing winter just a little bit cosier. It really must be good for the soul to eat some of what you fancy every once in a while, and surely even better if you know exactly what has gone into making it. That’s what I’ve been telling myself anyway...

Blueberry, chocolate, banana; muffins are true regulars on the shelves of supermarkets and the cake stands of coffee shops. And the good news is, it is almost as easy to whip up a batch of homemade, wholesome beauties, as it is to rip open the packaging of a shop brought, undoubtedly chemical filled ones. And the sense of pride that you get when you present a plate of homemade muffins to a table of hungry people at teatime (or even breakfast time!) makes them taste even more scrumptious.

Apple and blackberry is a truly classic combination that has been a regular feature on our dinner table since a last minute scramble for the remaining black beauties that still bejewel the Suffolk hedgerow stuffed our freezer full. The archetypal  pairing of sharp apple and sweet berry seems to be eternally tied with the word that spells the perfect end to a roast dinner, the pudding that makes me feel most like home; Crumble. What better, then, than to put this tried and tested combination into a muffin? Delicately spiced with cinnamon and crowned with a crunchy almond crumble, these delicious, blackberry speckled beauties are perfect any time of the day. And with this much fruit, they could almost pass as healthy. Almost...

And for breakfast, why not try these delicious oaty marmalade, carrot and walnut muffins? Glazed with sticky marmalade, they are perfect served slightly warm with a generous smearing of salted butter and a steaming cup of tea. Delicious.

But if you are feeling like you need a bit more of a treat, I have included a recipe for absolutely failsafe double chocolate chip muffins at the end of this post. They are about as far away from your five-a-day as it is possible to be, and would certainly require a few more sessions of the dreaded keep fit than the previous fruit and vegetable crammed ones to work off, but they are definitely worth it. I have avoided the temptation of making any of these this time round, but take my word for it, they are very very yummy and almost always come out the oven looking just like they have come out of a shop...

Blackberry and Apple Crumble Muffins, makes 12

300g plain flour

1 ½ tbsp baking powder

Pinch of salt

200g caster sugar

200ml milk

100g butter (melted)

Zest of 1 lemon

1 egg, beaten

1 large Bramley apple

1 tbsp lemon juice

75g blackberries

1 tsp ground cinnamon

For the crumble topping

30g butter

50g plain flour

30g flaked almonds

30g Demerara sugar

½ tsp ground cinnamon

Pinch of salt

Preheat the oven to 190^oc.

Firstly, make the crumble topping. In a small bowl rub the butter into the flour, cinnamon and salt until resembling coarse breadcrumbs. Stir in the sugar and almonds and put to one side.

Next, cut the apple into small cubes and, in a small bowl, spinkle with the lemon juice to prevent browning.

In a large bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, cinnamon, salt and sugar.

Mix the melted butter, milk, beaten egg and lemon zest until well combined. Make a well in the centre of the flour mixture and pour in the wet ingredients. Mix until just combined. Don’t over mix, it is meant to be lumpy!

Stir in the apples and blackberries, being careful to avoid adding too much spare lemon juice.

Divide the mixture between 12 muffin cases and sprinkle with the crumble mixture. Bake for 20-25 minutes or until golden brown and well risen. Allow to cool and then enjoy!

Oaty Carrot & Marmalade Breakfast Muffins, makes 12.

300g plain flour

½ tsp baking powder

½ tsp bicarbonate of soda

100g oats

125g soft brown sugar

125g butter, melted

125ml milk

350g carrot, finely grated

Zest of 1 orange

½ tsp baking powder

½ tsp bicarbonate of soda

2 eggs, beaten

100g walnuts, chopped

200g marmalade, plus some extra for glazing

In a large bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, bicarbonate of soda, salt and sugar. Stir in the oats.

Mix the melted butter, milk, beaten egg and orange zest until well combined. Make a well in the centre of the flour mixture and pour in the wet ingredients. Mix until just combined. Don’t over mix, it is meant to be lumpy!

Gently stir in the carrot, walnuts and marmalade until just combined. Divide between muffin cases and bake for 20-25 minutes or until golden and well risen. Leave to cool.

Heat a couple of tablespoons of marmalade until melted. Brush over the muffins and serve either plain or with lashings of butter!

Naughty Double Chocolate Chip Muffins, makes 12

175g plain flour

40g cocoa powder

100g caster sugar

2 tsp baking powder

½ tsp salt

100g chocolate chips

1 egg

250ml milk

120ml oil

½ tsp vanilla extract

Preheat the oven to 200^oc.

Mix the flour, cocoa, sugar, baking powder, salt and chocolate chips.

In a jug, beat the egg, milk, oil and vanilla together until well mixed.

Make a well in the centre of the dry ingredients and add the egg mixture. Stir until just combined, not worrying about any lumps!

Spoon evenly into muffin cases and bake for 20-25 minutes or until well risen and firm.

Cool and eat!