Triple-Layer Trilogy part 3: Brooklyn Blackout Cake

Well, well, well. It’s been almost three weeks since I posted the second part of this triology; probably the time it has taken me to finish the Steig Larsson trilogy in the two hours a day I merrily spend with my Kindle on my commute.

Time seems to move at a different speed in London to Bristol or Newcastle; time seems much more precious, and I seem to have become worse at making the most of it. I hope that will change (at least a little) when I get the iPad I pre-ordered last week.

This was a HUGE splurge for me; I can’t remember the last time I spent that much cash in one go, but as I got a little money from a relative recently, I felt like I deserved a treat . I’m particularly delighted that this treat one which means I can blog, read other wonderful blogs, and do all kinds of clever things from the comfort of my sofa. In short – hopefully we’ll be seeing more of each other!

Now – on to the most important part; the cake. This was made as a birthday cake for a joint let’s-all-crash-at-my-little-flat reunion and birthday celebration for two of my very good friends from university. For the first time in well over a year, we came together to drink too much booze, dance like we were 19 again to hopelessly cheesy music, and, importantly, eat.

I wanted to make an unashamedly calorific, insanely indulgent, enormous cake. Naturally, my first port of call was the Hummingbird Bakery Cookbook, and a recipe I’d been eyeing up for a very long time – ever since I saw these two glorious words:

chocolate custard

Who can argue with chocolate custard used as frosting? Really, who?

The cake wasn’t the best chocolate cake I’ve made – I like my chocolate cakes to use real dark chocolate, rather than just cocoa powder, otherwise it just doesn’t pack the punch. But the chocolate custard. Oh, MAN.

It’s pretty much what I’d bathe in if I was Willy Wonka. Which is why it’s the only part of the recipe I’m blogging. It also sort of reminds me of a particular pudding I used to eat in primary school. Which I’m not sure is a good or bad thing. But either way, I loved it. I think it’d be amazing sandwiched between fluffy, thin chocolate biscuits, or macarons, piped into the centre of cupcakes, or, if you’re anything like me, eaten directly from the bowl. With a wooden spoon. Or your face.

Chocolate Custard

(Makes enough to cover two triple layer cakes. With plenty left for dinner.)

Ingredients

• 500g caster sugar
• 1 tbsp golden syrup
• 125g cocoa powder
• 200g cornflour
• 85g unsalted butter, cubed
• 1/2 tsp vanilla extract

Method

1. Put the sugar, golden syrup, cocoa powder and 600ml water into a large saucepan and bring to the boil ovr a medium head, whisking as you go.
2. Mix the cornflour with 120-200ml water, whisking as you add it.
3. Whisk gradually nito the cocoa mixture in the pan over a medium high. Bring back to the boil, whisking constantly.
4. Cook, whisking all the time, for a few minutes until thick. Decant into a bowl, cover with clingfilm and chill until firm.

Triple-layer trilogy part 2: Coconut and Lime Cake

Following on from the Drizzled Lemon Curd Cake I made recently, the second installment in my triple-layer triology is this utterly charming, porcelain white beauty.

Coconut and lime are one of my most favourite combinations; whether in a cocktail, a thai curry, or these super-cute coconut and lime cupcakes, there’s something about the sharp zing of lime paired with the sweet, creamy flavour of coconut that makes it simply irresistible for me.

This cake is delicate (perhaps not in looks but in taste – my icing technique leaves a little to be desired and my tins are slightly different sizes!), yet it packs a punch; light and fluffy, sweet and smooth, yet sharp and tangy. It would be right at home at a tea party, or for little something different for a birthday party. Me? I made it to brighten up a freezing-cold Monday morning at work – and to introduce my new colleagues to my baking obsession. It certainly stepped up to the plate.

I smiled as my inbox pinged with compliments.

‘This cake is AMAZING!’

‘Our resident office bakers have some stiff competition!’

Those are the kind of e-mails I just LOVE to receive. Who wouldn’t? I love knowing I’ve brightened up someone’s Monday morning or made a perfect match for their afternoon cup of Earl Grey to help them beat the 3pm slump.

Yeah, yeah; so I should probably give them a handful of Brazil nuts, some acai berries and a generous helping of dust if we’re being health-conscious – but who wants to be that girl?!

Triple-Layer Coconut and Lime Cake

The cake itself is adapted from Dan Lepard’s wonderful Short & Sweet. If you haven’t already, I highly recommend you buy a copy.

Serves 10-12

Ingredients

• 300g caster sugar
• 275g plain flour
• 250g butter, softened
• 3 eggs
• 2 1/2 tsp baking powder
• 150ml coconut milk
• 50g dessicated coconut
• 2 tsp vanilla extract
• Juice and zest of 3 limes

Method

1. Line 3 20cm round baking tins with baking paper and grease the sides.
2. Heat the coconut milk until almost boiling, then stir in the dessicated coconut
3. Add two thirds of the lime juice to the coconut mixture. Leave to soak in for 30 minutes to moisten the dried coconut.
4. Preheat the oven to 180c/160 fan/gas 4
5. Sift the flour and baking powder together.
6. Cream the butter and sugar in a bowl and beat until fluffy. Beat in the eggs one at a time until combined and add the vanilla extract.
7. Fold in the flour mixture and half of the lime zest, alternating with the coconut mixture until smooth.
8. Divide between the 3 tins and bake for 30-35 minutes.

For the coconut and lime cream cheese frosting

• 175g icing sugar, sifted
• 25g butter
• 125g cream cheese
• 30ml coconut milk
• Juice and zest of 1 lime (as above)

1. Beat the icing sugar and butter together with an electric whisk until combined. Add the cream cheese, coconut milk, the rest of the lime juice and zest and whisk on medium-high speed until smooth – at least 5 minutes.

Smooth the frosting between the layers and over the top, et voila! A totally tropical, totally tangy, and totally naughty triple-layer-tastic treat.

Enjoy with a caipirinha or mojito for a very grown-up treat.

Triple-layer Trilogy: Part one – Drizzled Lemon Curd Cake

This post showcases the first of three tantalising triple-layer cakes I’ve baked recently. Why have I baked so many of them, you ask? Especially when most people are on a new year, clean-eating-boot-camping-green-tea-swigging-booze-craving de-tox.

Well, there are two reasons; one, I prefer dirty eating – particularly in January and February, generally the coldest, most depressing months of the year.  Secondly, when it comes to cake, I feel there are few things more satisfying than watching a cake slice gently glide through three decadent, fluffy layers of sponge, and lifting up a resplendent, towering triangle to endless ‘ooh’s and ‘aah’s.

A triple layer cake should be a perfect symphony of lusciously light layers, moist-making filling, and an irresistible topping that come together to woo anyone within a 2-mile radius. Cheeky.

The first in this series is something of a classic, created by a classic – Delia Smith. It’s a zesty, light, and simply sublime lemon drizzle cake, sandwiched with homemade lemon curd.

The only thing I’d change would be to make it bigger (with good reason, honest) by upping the quantities – Delia actually cooks this in two tins before slicing them both in two, but I found that I didn’t get as much rise as I’d like to get four good layers. And – obviously – bigger is always better when it comes to cake!

I’d probably also change the fact that I made it after getting around 3 hours’ sleep due to being stranded after a night-out when London’s transport system decided it didn’t want anyone in north London to get home. But that’s another story!

Triple-layer Drizzled Lemon Curd Cake

Serves 10-12 generously

For the cake

• 1 lemon, zest only, grated
• 1 tbsp lemon juice
• 175g/6oz self-raising flour sifted
• 1 level tsp baking powder
• 175g/6oz butter at room temperature
• 175g/6oz caster sugar
• 3 eggs

For the lemon curd

• 1 large juicy lemon, grated zest and juice only
• 75g/3oz caster sugar
• 2 eggs
• 50g/2oz unsalted butter

For the icing

• 1 large lemon- zest only
• 50g/2oz sifted icing sugar
• 2-3 tsp lemon juice

Preparation method

1. Preheat the oven to 170C/325F/Gas 3.
2. Measure all the cake ingredients into a mixing bowl and beat – ideally with an electric hand whisk – until you have a smooth, creamy consistency.
3. Divide the mixture evenly between the two tins and bake them on the centre shelf of the oven for about 35 minutes or until the centres feel springy when lightly touched with a little finger.
4. While the cakes are cooking, make the lemon curd.
5. Pop  the sugar and grated lemon zest in a bowl, whisk the lemon juice together with the eggs, then pour this over the sugar. Then add the butter cut into little pieces, and place the bowl over a pan of barely simmering water.
6. Stir frequently with a whisk until thickened – about 20 minutes.
7. Remove the cakes from the oven and after about 30 seconds turn them out on to a wire rack. When they are absolutely cold – and not before – carefully cut each one horizontally into two using a sharp serrated knife.
8. Spread the curd thickly to sandwich the sponges together.
9. For the icing, begin by removing the zest from the lemon – it’s best to use a zester to get long, curly strips. Then sift the icing sugar into a bowl and gradually stir in the lemon juice until you have a soft, runny consistency.
10. Allow the icing to stand for 5 minutes before spreading it on top of the cake with a knife, almost to the edges, and don’t worry if it runs a little down the sides of the cake. Then scatter the lemon zest over the top and leave it for half an hour for the icing to firm up before serving.

 

Glorious game pie

I won’t flatter myself enough to think that anyone’s noticed my lack of posting recently, but the reason for the slow-down has been pretty simple; I’m exhausted! Starting a new job is always tiring – there’s always so much to learn, and usually at breakneck speed. Thankfully the job is fantastic and I’m really enjoying it, but it’s safe to say that most evenings, I’ve been getting through the door and becoming at one with the sofa

Weekends are when I’d usually blog, but of course,  with a huge city like London just waiting to be explored, we haven’t felt much like staying indoors. We’ve been checking out some of the fabulous galleries, pubs, foodie haunts and markets – and I have to say, I’m loving it. I’ve been dying to share some of our finds.

A couple of weeks back we decided to check out a real London foodie favourite; Borough Market. And boy was I glad we did.

This bustling bazaar is packed to the rafters every weekend with locals, tourists and long-lenses snapping away at the tempting tables. It’s not hard to see why; from high-quality cuts of everything from Oxtail to Ostrich, to rich, moudly cheeses strong enough to wake the dead, and from huge, perfect loaves to stacks of pots filled with every condiment, preserve and pickle you could ever wish to lay your hands on – this place has it all.

We went in empty-handed, preparing to save our money to go out for a meal that night. Needless to say, that meal never happened; we pooled our cash into splurging on a host of luxurious treats we’d otherwise never dream of buying. It was endlessly thrilling to be able to waltz over to a stall of decadent delights and walk away clutching some to take home, rather than looking back wistfully.

Favourite buys were some wonderful freshly-made harissa from a Moroccan stall with chefs on-hand cooking up tempting take-away treats, some ‘wow wow’ mustard to knock your socks off, English muffins big enough for a small child to sleep on, and a gorgeous slice of cake with quite possibly the best frosting I’ve ever tasted. We also decided to go all out red meat – not something we eat too often – and bought a mixed pack of game; rabbit, venison, and pheasant, with a view to making a gloriously gluttonous pie.

We stumbled across a fantastic pastry recipe purely by the accident of running low on plain flour; by mixing plain flour and bread flour we ended up with a wonderfully crisp, yet still light, golden crust.

Makes 4 hearty servings fit for a winter’s day

Ingredients

For the filling

• 500g mixed game
• 1 medium sweet potato
• 1 large onion
• 2 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
• 2 tbsp olive oil
• 1 tbsp corn flour
• 1 glug of red wine (optional, but highly recommended)
• 1 tbsp harissa
• 1 beef stock cube
• 225ml water

For the pastry

• 150g plain flour
• 150g strong white bread flour
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1/4 tsp baking powder
• 150g unsalted butter
• 70 ml cold water
• 1 egg (to egg wash the pie)

Method

For the filling

1. Chop up the onions into medium sized chunks,  and add them to a large saucepan with the olive oil. Brown the meat on a medium-high heat for around 2-3 minutes, before turning down the heat, adding the garlic and cooking for another couple of minutes.
2. Mix the stock cube with 225ml water (or use fresh stock if you’re lucky enough to have it) and add it to the pan with a good glug of red wine and the table spoon of harissa.
3. Continue to simmer for at least an hour and a half, preferably two hours, to ensure the meat is really tender and all of the flavours have blended beautifully. Check after an hour, and sprinkle in the corn flour if the mixture needs thickening, or add a little water if it looks dry. While it’s cooking, make your pastry.

For the pastry

1. Mix together the dry ingredients in a food processor (or a bowl if doing by hand).
2. Chop the butter into small pieces and whizz or rub together.
3. Add the water a little at a time until the mixture comes together into a ball.
4. Wrap in cling film and chill for 30 minutes before using.
5. Roll out just over a third of your pastry and line your pie tin (we used a loose-bottomed 20cm cake tin). Roll out another third to make the sides of your pie, and then the final third to make your lid.

For the pie

Season your mixture well and remove from the heat. Gently spoon the mixture into the pastry case, top with the lid (remembering to pop a couple of small holes in the top), and splosh over your egg wash to give a lovely golden bake.

If you like, you can get creative and make a little pie topper, use a fork to seal the edges, or even do some fancy twists or crimping. I just happened to have a reindeer cookie cutter that seemed very apt!

Finally, bake in the oven at 180 degrees/gas mark 4 for 40 minutes, or until the pastry is golden and crisp. Serve with a red wine gravy, mash, and some tasty greens for a luxurious treat that’ll warm up even the coldest of winter days.

Cranberry and pistachio cookies

As I’m sure you know, with moving house (and cities) comes great upheaval and chaos. For the last week or so, along with trying to expore this bewilderingly big and endlessly entertaining city, I have been pretty much in nesting mode for the last week. This has mainly involved a lot of squaring up furniture, trying to make our new flat cosy and organised, and discreetly pushing boxes of miscellaneous ‘stuff’ under the bed or to the back of very high cupboards. Out of sight, out of mind…

I was also desperate to get into my new kitchen and get baking, but was lacking a lot of ingredients and the determination to dig out most of my equipment. It was on this premise that I decided to go for cookies. I really forget sometimes just how much of a win-win bake they are.

Firstly, they’re delicious (obviously); warm, fresh, chunky cookies filled with your favourite flavours are always a treat. Secondly, they’re just so easy. It’s basically a case of chucking everything into a bowl, rekindling your playdoh-loving youth by moulding them however you like, and popping them in the oven for next to no time. Everybody wins!

These decadent cookies are a sort of hangover from Christmas – and an expensive one at that. Think of them like a cashmere jumper; expensive and fabulous, but totally worth it. Sadly, unlike a cashmere jumper, these won’t last forever – or very long at all, for that matter.

Their luxurious nuggets of fruit and nut, and the sprinkling of mixed spice are reminscent of an exotic Christmas pudding. I warn you, hang around my kitchen too long in winter and you might just end up with a sprinkling of mixed spice, too.

I’m suggesting caster and light muscovado sugar in the recipe to give crunch and chewiness, though I only had caster sugar in at the time and they were still delicious – just a little crunchier. You can easily make them gluten-free by switching plain flour for corn or rice flour.

Makes around 24

Ingredients

• 100g unsalted butter, softened
• 125g light muscovado
• 125g caster sugar
• 250g plain flour
• 100g dried cranberries
• 100g raw pistachios (shelled weight)
• 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon bicarbonate of soda
• 50ml boiling water
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1/2 teaspoon mixed spice

Method

1. Pop the cranberries in a mixing bowl and cover with the boiling water to re-hydrate for 5 mins.
2. Add the butter and sugars and beat until smooth. Add the vanilla and mixed spice and beat again.
3. Add the flour, baking powder, bicarb and beat, before mixing in the walnuts.
4. Heat the oven to 170/150 fan/gas mark 3. Line a baking sheet with non-stick baking paper. Roll the dough into walnut sized balls and press down onto the baking tray, well-spaced to allow for spreading in the oven.
5. Bake for 15 minutes. Leave to cool on the tray to firm up, before cooling on a wire rack.

The dough will keep in the fridge for a few weeks, so freshly baked cookies can be yours at the drop of a hat!

A fond farewell to beautiful Bristol

I remember the day I fell in love with Bristol.

I was 17 and my dad and I had flown down for the day to scope out the city and the University. We found ourselves wandering aimlessly around this brand new place;  swallowed up by beautiful architecture, meandering around bustling streets filled with friendly-faced people, gazing at up at the blue sky punctuated by momuments and towers, and admiring the green, open spaces lined with students and families dining al-fresco and lapping up the sunshine.

It truly was love at first sight.

I vividly remember driving into Bristol with my dad’s tiny car packed to the rafters with everything a wide-eyed student needed (and more). With 300 miles under our belt, we drove along the Portway, underneath the beautiful Clifton Suspension Bridge, the sun casting a glorious, other-worldly light on our path. Sitting on the back seat with a big smile on my face, I shed a few tears – not from nerves or fear, but because I knew that this moment marked the start of a new chapter that would play a huge part in my life; the first blank page in a sketchbook just waiting to be lovingly filled. And what a chapter it was.

I can confidently say that moving to Bristol made me the person that I am today. I relished the freedom that came with a new city, new friends, new ideas, new opportunities, and new places to explore.I treasured studying the subject I loved in such inspiring surroundings; discussing morality with like-minded people, and debating late into the night across pub tables with those not so like-minded (ah, the beauty of philosophy).

I happily fell into the career I now cherish,and found wonderful, kind and generous friends, mentors and role-models along the way. You know who you are, but I hope you also know how grateful I am to you for helping me get to where I am today – and for making it so much fun.

It truly was an honour to grow, learn, laugh and frolic in such a vibrant place. From admiring how the other half live in picturesque Clifton village, to throwing myself into the delightfully urban and unorthodox Stokes Croft. From summer walks and fabulous foodie festivals at the harbourside, to hazy nights of overconsumption and getting to know the owners of local takeaways – it’s a place I know I’m going to miss dearly.

But, after almost 6 wonderful, life-changing years, my love affair with Bristol is going long-distance as I start a new year, new job, and new chapter of my life in London. I take with me – along with two van-loads of stuff – a wealth of happy memories, a strong sense of self, and my boyfriend and best friend, Alex.

As I write this from my lovely new flat, surrounded by unpacked boxes and a city I haven’t even begun to explore, I find myself smiling that same smile as the day I drove under the Suspension Bridge.  Though this time I’m a little more nervous, I know at the heart of it that smile springs from a renewed optimism and excitement at the adventures to come with friends old and new. Oh, and some of the best cake in the UK, of course!

I can’t wait.

My new favourite book

I came home tonight and spotted a card from Royal Mail, who’d left a special delivery with a neighbour. I’ve already had all of my Christmas presents, so I had no idea what it could be.

I love a surprise, and this one was no exception. It turned out to be my very own limited edition printed copy of the Kerrygold Community Cookbook with my very own recipe and name printed in it!

You might remember I posted a little while ago about how thrilled I was about my Blackberry and Hazelnut Brownie recipe being selected by Rachael Allen to appear in the book.

Receiving a real copy put a huge smile on my face; just what I needed with a house like a bombsite/cardboard box shanty town in the middle of getting ready for The Big Move!

I feel like it’s a small testament to how far I’ve come with my baking in the past couple of years – from a few higgledy-piggledy cupcakes once every six weeks or so, to taking on technical bakes like macarons, tarts and fiddly fondant icing, and creating my own original recipes. I owe a lot of that to the wonderful encouragement, advice, tips, and general loveliness I’ve had from friends, tweeters, and many talented bakers and bloggers, so thank you.

If you’d told me  5 years ago – when my favourite late-night snack was pasta with tomato ketchup (mmm, starchy) – that I’d be creating food like this, I would have laughed you out of the room. It’s safe to say, then, that this little beauty will take pride of place on the kitchen bookshelf of my new flat and serve as a gentle reminder that even culinary caterpillars can turn into butterflies.

It wil also serve as inspiration – there are some gorgeous recipes in there!

Alan Palmer’s Summer Almond Cake with Lavendar Icing sounds perfect for a Sunday afternoon tea party…

And Bill King’s Triple Chocolate Orange cake sounds delightfully indulgent.

Yes, that is my 'big fat to do list' in the background...

There are also tons of gorgeous savoury dishes, and lots of recipes from Rachel Allen herself. The best bit about it is that you can download your very own copy for free!

Just visit the Kerrygold facebook page and click on the ‘recip-e-book’ tab. Happy cooking!

Bake at your own peril; Dangerously Good Beetroot Brownies

Those of you who follow me on Twitter might know that I’ve got a very exciting and hectic few weeks ahead of me. I’ll be relocating from Bristol to London just before new year to start a brand new job fundraising for the Prince’s Trust – an amazing charity, and one I feel absolutely honoured to be joining.

You may also have noticed my numerous tweets whinging about packing up my life – sorry about that! This will be the third time I’ve moved around Christmas, and my 13th move in 23 years on this earth. You could say I should be a pro by now – which I am – but it doesn’t make me detest the process any less.

So, clearly, I need incentives. Incentives to reward myself every time I clear out a kitchen cupboard, empty a bookshelf, or bag up half of my wardrobe. Yes?

The other night, I told myself that if I packed three boxes, I could bake some brownies. Three boxes, two bags, and a tidy kitchen later, I started making my brownies, smug at having surpassed myself. I adapted my recipe from one of my favourite books, and one I regularly bang on about – Red Velvet Chocolate Heartache – and got baking.

Now, I know that beetroot and chocolate are a good match. I just had no idea they were this good. These are some of the best brownies I’ve ever baked or eaten.

Don’t believe me? My lovely friend Sarah – fabulous foodie, fellow home baker and all-round goddess – described them as

‘totally f***ing amazing’

- a description she does not use lightly.

They are devilishly dense, yet miraculously light. Sweet, yet romantically dark and earthy. They taste like they should be a thousand calories, yet come in at 265. I could (and did) eat them for breakfast, lunch and dinner.  They are – in short – dangerously good.

Bake at your own peril.

Dangerously Good Beetroot Brownies

(gluten free)

Ingredients

• 400g vacuum packed cooked beetroot (not in vinegar!) diced into small squares
• 100g ground almonds
• 3 medium eggs
• 220g golden caster or light muscovado sugar
• 70g cocoa powder
• 1/4tsp salt
• 150g dark chocolate (min. 67% cocoa solids), broken into small pieces.
• 3 tbsp white rice flour (or plain flour)
• 2 tsp baking powder
• 1tsp vanilla extract

To decorate

Chopped nuts of your choice – I used hazelnuts

Method

1. Preheat your oven to 160/325 F/ gas mark 3. Line a 27cm X 20 cm X 5cm brownie tin (I used a deeper square silicon tin, but rectangular would have been better). Lightly brush with a little oil.
2. Whisk the eggs, sugar, and salt with a hand-held whisk in a large mixing bowl for 5 minutes until tripled in volume.
3. Whack the diced beetroot into a suitable medium sized bowl and pop in the microwave with a splash of water for three minutes until piping hot. Blend into a puree, adding a little water if necessary – but not too much.
4. Ensure it’s still hot and throw in the chunks of chocolate. Cover with clingfilm and let the chocolate melt for a couple of minutes. Stir in the chocolate until you have a gorgeously purple puree.
5. Return to your egg mixture. Beat in the ground almonds, flour, cocoa powder, baking powder and vanilla extract until well combined.
6. Add the beetroot chocolate puree and fold in thoroughly.
7. Pour into the tin, smooth with a pallette knife or the back of a spoon,  and sprinkle your chopped nuts on top to decorate. Bake for 35 minutes  in the middle of the oven.
8. Allow to cool in the tin for 20 minutes, before cutting into (small) portions.

Go on, I dare you….

Very berry mincemeat

It seems hard to believe now,  but this time last year, I was making my first ever batch of pastry.

Yep – ever.

I was pretty new to baking, and after trying my first ever mince pies a couple of weeks before (yep – ever. I know; such a deprived child), I decided I’d like to make my own. The prospect of making mincemeat and my own pastry was far too daunting, so it was Asda’s own that went into my pies – and very nice they were, too!

My first ever mince pies, 2010 - I was going for the 'rustic' feel...

But after nailing pastry, and conquering my fear of pickling and preserving a few weeks ago with homemade chutneys for Christmas gifts, I’ve been looking forward to making my own mince meat – and more importantly, my first batch of crumbly, buttery, mince pies (drool) – ever since.

I was searching for a recipe that was a little lighter and juicier than your traditional mincemeat with darker dried fruits, and this one is adapted from a recipe from Good Food magazine.

I absolutely love the glorious jewel-like colours of the berries, those wonderful autumnal spices I’ve been wholeheartedly sprinkling in just about everything I eat – sweet or savoury- for the past two months, and the warming boozy kick.

I’m trying to hold December to make my first batch of mince pies this year – mainlyI will want to bake them every two days, and don’t want to put on a stone before Christmas has even started. But I’m not making any promises. Alex and I just tasted a spoonful and his exact words were:

‘MMMMMM. That’s the best mincemeat I think I’ve ever eaten. Bake some mince pies now…please?’

You have been warned…

Very berry mincemeat

Makes four 370g jars.

Ingredients

• 225g sultanas
• 200g raisins
• 200g dried mixed berries – e.g. cranberries, cherries (I used asda’s ‘cherry berry’ mix)
• 50g dried apricots
• 100g mixed peel
• 225g light muscovado sugar
• 125g butter, cut me into cubes
• 1 medium cooking apple, peeled and cored
• zest and juice 1 lemon
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1 tsp mixed spice
• 200ml brandy/sherry or apple juice if you prefer

Method

1. Put all the ingredients, except the alcohol, into a large pan and heat gently. Let the butter melt and simmer, very gently, stirring occasionally for about 10 minutes.
2. Allow to cool completely, then add the brandy, sherry, or apple juice.
3. Spoon into sterilised jars (I share my way of doing it here), seal tightly, and store in a cool place.

It’s as easy as that!

Leave this for at least a day for the fruit to soak up the booze and the flavour to mature.

Custard tart and mini baked lemon custard pots

If you caught my last post on the kindness of strangers, you may remember that – before a remarkable series of events took place – it was originally destined to be about custard tarts.

I just couldn’t not share these beauties with you.

The custard tart was one of the bakes on my Bake List  – though I’ve probably already mentally added about 30 things and removed others by this stage. It’s something I’ve loved to eat since I was a little girl, but had never made myself.

I often used to visit an old lady called Dora after school while my mam was at work. She’d tell me stories and ask me to tell her everything I’d learned at school, cosied up by the fire. Thinking back, she was a little like a surrogate grandma.  I distinctly remember that we’d almost always eat the same things; tinned salmon sandwiches with freshly-cut bread and gorgeous homemade chips, followed by a cup of tea and a custard tart. It was one of my favourite meals, though I have a sneaking suspicion the custard tart was the bit I loved the most…some things never change!

The tart recipe is by BBC good food, and my mini baked lemon custards came about by accident. Though the tart recipe stated to use a deep sandwich tin, I worried mine wasn’t going to be big enough, so used my pastry in instead. That, in hindsight, was an error. I ended up with quite a bit of spare custard, and the ratio of custard to pastry in the final tart wasn’t great once it’d shrunk when baked.

However, it’s an error I’m very glad I made, as it meant I stumbled across these gorgeous custard pots. I’m not going to lie. I’m a little bit in love with them. They’re as smooth as a pannacotta, with the sweetness of custard, and a delightful zing from the lemon. They really are a dinky little pot of heaven, and the real triumph of  my baking session.

Custard Tart

For the shortcrust pastry

Ingredients

• 250g plain flour
• 125g butter
• 1 egg
• 1tbsp water
• Fresh nutmeg, grated

Method

1. Blitz the flour and butter in a food processor for about 30 seconds. Add 2/3 of the egg to until the pastry starts to form a ball.
2. Remove from the processor and form a ball. Roll out until the pastry is about 3 cm thick, then grate over some fresh nutmeg. Fold it in half,  wrap in clingfilm, and pop it in the fridge for 30 minutes. Preheat the oven to 200 degrees/180 degrees fan oven.
3. Remove pastry  from the fridge, roll it out to the size of your pastry tin, trim the edges, and blind bake for 20 minutes. Remove your baking beans/rice/whatever you’re using, and bake for another 10 minutes.

For the custard

Ingredients

• 4 large eggs
• 140g golden caster sugar
• 300ml double cream
• 300ml whole milk
• 1 vanilla pod, seeds scraped out, or a few drops of vanilla extract

Method

1. Crucial – turn your oven down to 150 degrees/130 degrees fan oven.
2. Whisk your eggs and sugar together in a large bowl.
3. Put the cream, vanilla, and milk into a large saucepan and bring to the boil. Pour on to the eggs, whisking throughout, and if you’re using vanilla pods, sieve into a jug.
4. Pour the custard up to the top of your pastry case, and grate over a good helping of nutmeg. You’ll probably have some custard spare – cue gorgeous custard pots!
5. Bake for one hour in the centre of the oven. When it’s done you’ll have a little wobble left in the custard.

Baked lemon custard pots

1. Make your custard as above. Depending on how much custard you have left – I had enough to fill four ramekins, – add some lemon zest and juice. If you make the whole batch for custard pots (which next time I might), I’d add about half a lemon.
2. Squeeze a little lemon juice into each ramekin, and stir. Grate over your nutmeg and lemon zest, and bake for 25-30 minutes in a bain marie until set with only a tiny wobble.