Week 18 - The Two Davids - Outsider Tart

And just like that the Ewing was 40 (something). While a birthday stuck at home during a global pandemic may seem less than fun, it ended up feeling like a very special day. Starting with presents in bed, followed by flowers in the post, videos of our nieces and a phone call from my Mum, moving on to pink wine and lunch on the patio, films and a snooze on sofa and ending with homemade fried chicken and a personalised Zoom quiz with our friends.

As we weren't going further than the garden, we had plenty of time to plan the piece de resistance - a Bruce Bogtrotter-style Coke layers cake, from the Outsider Tart cookbook. A book that is already a firm favourite thanks to the incredible s'mores cake that contains a whole packet of digestives in the sponges, and is coated in blow-torched meringue. 

The Ewing is by far the biggest chocoholic I have ever met - one earlier date had me tearing around Greenwich, looking for a newsagent after she had a sugar crash and waited at the pub for me to return laden down with bars of Green and Blacks - and so I knew a recipe that contained over half a kilo of the stuff would always be a good choice. (Awww...that's true lurve - TE).

Plus it had marshmallows (we used chocolate coated, in case there wasn't enough chocolate already), nearly three quarters of a kilo of sugar, most of the EU butter mountain, and a can of Coke. Full fat of course. This is not a cake for those trying to exercise restraint.

In fact, it was the most joyful cake for the most joyful person. (You are so lovely, I love you very much - TE). A perfect fluffy sponge, sweet but with smoky caramel and a rich cocoa bitterness, coated in a tangy sour cream fudge frosting that perfectly gilded the lily. The ultimately celebration cake. And luckily she loved it. As did our neighbours (yes, after some gentle persuasion, the Ewing did share...). Happy birthday, my love.

Chocolate Coke Layer Cake

adapted from Outsider Tart

340g unsalted butter

350ml Coke (not diet)

65g marshmallows, chopped

85g plain chocolate, chopped

530g plain flour

115g cocoa powder

2 1/4 tsp baking powder

1 1/2 tsp bicarbonate of soda

3/4 of a teaspoon of salt

675g granulated sugar

80ml of flavourless oil

1 tbsp of vanilla extract

5 large eggs, at room temperature

300ml buttermilk, at room temperature

Chocolate sour cream fudge frosting

315g milk chocolate, chopped

200g plain chocolate, chopped

340g sour cream

1tsp vanilla extract

Preheat the oven to 180c Butter two 9 inch round cake tins, line the bottoms with baking paper, dust with flour and tap out any excess. 

Place the butter and Coke in a saucepan and heat over a medium heat until the butter melts. Add the marshmallows and chopped chocolate and stir until the chocolate and marshmallows have melted. Let the mixture cool for about 10 minutes.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, cocoa powder, baking powder, bicarbonate of soda and salt, set aside.

Thoroughly combine the sugar, oil and vanilla in a kitchen mixer on medium speed or with an electric whisk. Reduce the speed to low and add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Add the cooled chocolate mixture and stir until evenly incorporated. 

Alternately add the flour and buttermilk in 3 or 4 stages, beginning and ending with the dry ingredients and mixing only until just combined. Divide the batter evenly among the prepared tins.

Bake for 50 minutes to an hour, or until a skewer inserted into the centre of each cake comes out clean. It is best to rotate the pans front to back, top to bottom about half the way through. If the cakes are browning too quickly, cover the top with foil.

Allow cakes to thoroughly cool on a cooling rack before slicing in half horizontally

To make frosting melt the chocolate in a heatproof bowl over a pan of simmering water.

Remove bowl from the heat and whisk in sour cream and vanilla.

Allow the mixture cool to room temperature, gently stirring occasionally.

When the frosting has thickened enough to spread, sandwich the layers together with the frosting, before covering the the top and sides. Work quickly, before the frosting sets, although you can gently reheat the frosting over simmering water if it thickens too much.

Week 17 Bill Granger - Sydney Food

This time last year we were in Australia. Drinking cold tinnies, camping in the bush and flinging another shrimp on the barbie. Since the government guidance to Stay Home, the furthest-flung we have managed to get is the patio. 

There are worst places to be, to be honest, especially since the weather has been almost uniformly glorious since lock down started. But in an attempt to bring some of the Antipodean vibe back to Buckinghamshire, I decided to make that Aussie classic (although a Kiwi may have something to say about that), the pavlova.

The recipe (sort of) comes from adored Australian restauranteur and food writer, Bill Granger; and is taken from his Sydney Food book - a hefty tome that was a kind gift from my sister. Just as kind was my Mum, who carted it back for me from Oz in her suitcase. 

One of my favourite memories from the trip we took to Australia for my 30th birthday, was going to Bill's in Surry Hills with my Sister and the Ewing and having his famed ricotta hotcakes with honeycomb butter. A recipe that I have also recreated at home, and is also in the book.

I never really thought I liked pavlova, as I never really liked meringue. Turns out that a real pav shouldn't be the classic crisp, feather-light meringue, which shatters on impact, but more a gooey marshmallow centre, held together by a thin, crisp crust.

This texture is achieved by a tsp of cornflour (or potato starch or arrowroot - Bill uses both) and a tsp of acid, either white vinegar or lemon juice. You then need to bake in a low oven to dry out the outside, without colouring it too much, and too keep the inside nice and squidgy.

This is something I learnt the hard way, after the first effort got over-baked (despite following the recipe cooking times) and then cracked after I needed to take it out the oven before it had cooled down, as I wanted to cook some chicken schnitzels and hadn't planned things as well as I thought I had....

The meringue for the second effort was slightly grainy, as I was too impatient when incorporating the sugar, which caused it to weep slightly when cooling (this time left in the oven overnight). But was also taller, and paler, and full of glorious vanilla-scented gooeyness. As it should be.

I topped mine with mango and blueberries, as that is what they had at the petrol station shop near our house (it is a Little Waitrose, so not quite as surprising as it may seem), but you could use any fruit. Strawberries and raspberries are great and passion fruit is my favourite. I also used some toasted coconut flakes that needed using up. It is recommended you serve as soon as you have put the topping on, but I think I prefer it best a day or two later, when it has become even more squidgy.

Pavlova

Adapted from a recipe by Bill Granger

For the meringue

4 egg whites

250g white caster sugar

1 tsp white wine vinegar

1 tsp cornflour (or potato starch or arrowroot)

1 tsp vanilla extract

for the topping

200ml double cream

200ml greek yogurt

fruit of your choice - I used mango, blueberries and toasted coconut

Heat oven to 110C

Using a pencil, mark out an 20 cm circumference on baking parchment. Turn the parchment upside down (you should still be able to see the outline of the circle) and place on a baking sheet.

Whisk 4 egg whites (use an electric whisk, unless you want a good work out) until they form stiff peaks.

Whisk in 250g caster sugar, 1 tbsp at a time, until the meringue looks glossy. 

Whisk in 1 tsp white wine vinegar, 1 tsp cornflour and 1 tsp vanilla extract.

Spread the meringue inside the circle, creating a small crater by making the sides a little higher than the middle. 

Bake for 1 hr, or until pale and set on the outside and still soft in the middle. Then turn off the heat and let the Pavlova cool completely inside the oven.

When the meringue is cool, whip the double cream to soft peaks and gently stir through the yogurt.

Spread gently over the top and decorate with the fruit of your choice.

Week 16 - British Food - Jane Grigson

This was the week that lock down began to bite. This happened in the most middle-class way possible after I discovered, late on a Saturday afternoon, that I didn't have all the ingredients I needed for the majestic pork pie I was planning. This became both a blessing and a curse.

A blessing because I decided we should walk to our great local butcher (about two and a half mile round trip, up a vertical hill), and a curse as we have gone there every weekend since. Completely derailing project #eatthefreezer and actually managing to contribute to the original problem. Ironically, they also sell extremely good pork pies. And scotch eggs and sausage rolls, if you're into that sort of thing.

I've made a hand raised pie before, a fancy number with chicken and apricots, but this time I went back to the old school with the pork pie from Jane Grigson's seminal English food. First published in 1974, and updated by Grigson in 1990, a year before her death, it's an anthology that celebrates and resurrects the reputation of English food, with recipes that range from rib-sticking puddings, pies and stews to summery soups, seafood and salads.

Alongside the classic mix of pork belly (Grigson actually uses spare rib, but obviously I didn't ready the recipe properly before setting off (really? that's unusual darling - TE)) and green streaky bacon, I added a couple of chicken thighs (to make up the weight) and chopped the meat and fat by hand for a chunkier texture. I also added a little allspice, cinnamon and nutmeg, as per Grigson's recipe. She calls for the addition of anchovy essence, and so I added a scant teaspoon of Gentleman's Relish, a gift from some foodie friends.

Jelly in a pork pie is a controversial thing, which I think most of us come to appreciate more as we get older. Grigson has a recipe for a traditional jelly, with split pigs trotters, but I decided I lacked the dedication to boil bones for hours to make something that will most likely be discarded on the edge of a plate and so plumped for stock, set with some leaves of gelatin. Originally I was going to use chicken, but I found some porcini stock cubes from a recent trip to Sicily, that I thought would add a heady, savoury note and turned out to be an inspired addition.

Of all the pastries, I think a hot water crust is by far the easiest. Melt the fat (lard, or a lard and butter mix) with water, then stir into flour and salt. The pastry can then be pushed up the sides of a loose bottomed cake tin, or fancy pie mould if you have one, leaving about a quarter to roll out for the lid, and that's about it. The lard adds a lovely crispness and a savoury edge and the pastry, with a little help from a beaten egg brushed on top, should bronze like a daytime TV presenter.

While the recipe may appear intimidatingly long, it's really very easy to follow, and the results are very impressive. Plus it tastes far better than a mass produced pie ever could. Although, I must confess I still have a fondness for the pink-paste stuffed pastry snacks, picked up from motorway service stations.

Hand raised pork pie

Adapted from Jane Grigson's English Food

For the filling

750g pork belly, shoulder or spare rib

250g streaky green bacon

250g skinless boneless chicken thighs (or just use 1kg of pork)

1 tsp salt

1 tsp black pepper

1 tsp Gentleman's Relish (or anchovy essence)

1/4 tsp ground allspice

1/4 tsp ground cinnamon

1/4 tsp grated nutmeg

Large sprig of thyme, finely chopped

for the pastry

500g flour

175g lard

200g water

large pinch of salt

1 beaten egg

for the stock

1 stock cube (porcini, ham or chicken)

2 leaves gelatin, soaked in cold water for 5 minutes

400ml boiling water

For the best texture chop the pork into small cubes, about 5mm in size. Or you could chop half, then whizz the other half briefly in the food processor.

Finely chop the bacon and chicken (if using)

Mix the thyme, salt, pepper and spices into the chopped meat.

Make the pastry

Put the lard and water into a saucepan and bring to the boil. 

Sift the flour and the salt into a large bowl. 

Pour the hot lard and water into the flour, mix well then leave until cool enough to handle. 

Don't allow to cool down too much, or you won't be able to shape it.

Pre-heat oven to 180C. Lightly grease and flour a 18 cm loose-bottomed cake tin. 

Take a quarter of the pastry and roll it into a lid that will fit the top of the cake tin. 

Place the the remaining pastry in the base of the tin, and then firmly push the dough up the sides with your fingers. If it slides down, leave it to cool a bit more. patch up any tholes otherwise the jelly will leak out. 

Spoon the filling into the tin and press it down. It should come almost to the top of the pastry.

Brush the edges of the pastry above the meat with beaten egg. Lower the lid into place and press tightly to seal with the edges. Poke a small hole in the lid (I used the handle of a wooden spoon) to let out the steam and put the tin on a baking sheet. 

Bake for 30 minutes, then lower the heat to 160C and bake for 60 minutes until the pastry is pale gold. Brush with the beaten egg and return to the oven for 30 minutes (the temperature should read 65c in the centre of the pie). Cover with foil if the top is browning too fast.

When the pie has cooled, add the boiling water to the stock cube and stir until dissolved.

Add the gelatin leaves and stir again.

Allow the mixture to cool a little and then, using a funnel, slowly pour the stock into the hole in the top of the pie. You may have to do this in stages to give the stock time to work it's way through the pie filling and settle .

Leave the pie to cool in the fridge, preferable overnight.

Serve with English mustard and a glass of bitter.

Week 15 - Feast - Nigella Lawson

As a Good Catholic Girl, it always has to be fish on Good Friday. Normally we would be spending Easter with my Aunt and Uncle and assorted cousins in their little village just outside Leeds. Drinking wine and eating my Aunt's simnel cake and my Uncle's seafood extravaganza, with shellfish fresh from Kirkgate Market.

As staying at home has become our new normal, at least for now, I turned again to the wonderful Nigella and made my riff on her Blakean fish pie, from her Easter chapter in Feast.

Choosing a favourite book of hers would be akin to choosing a favourite child, but this is a good one, with the chapters arranged to celebrate various different feasts throughout the year. It also contains a whole chapter on chocolate cakes, which would make a great #cookbookchallenge, but probably when I can leave the house more than once a day, so I can make sure I will actually still fit through the door...

I have to say, of all my challenges so far, this is the first one that really only paid a mere nod to the recipe (although my wife thinks I fail to follow any instructions, I have been quite disciplined so far...) In fact, although I did briefly skim the recipe, the whole making a stock to poach the fish and the bouquet garni and reducing down saffron-infused cream seemed rather a faff for Nigella. It was certainly too much faff for me.

So I (whisper it) used frozen fish pie mix for the first time, picked up on my weekly shop, and cooked the chunks of cod, smoked haddock and salmon from frozen, along with a bag of frozen prawns. To the fish I added a leek-infused bechamel sauce, and topped with saffron mash. Which gave it a pleasing hue inspired by the title. Although I hadn't made a fish pie before (scarred by the boiled egg-studded pies of my youth, it was excellent. And very easy.

Amy's Blakean Fish Pie (adapted from Nigella Lawson's Feast)

1 kg floury potatoes, peeled and cut into large, even chunks

butter and seasoning to taste

Good pinch of saffron threads, soaked in a little warm milk

1 (400g) bag of frozen fish pie mix or equivalent chunks of fresh fish of your choice

1 (250g) bag of frozen prawns (medium, for preference)

2 leeks, cleaned and chopped into rings and cooked gently in butter until soft

50g butter

50g flour

500ml milk (I used semi-skimmed)

1 tbsp mustard (dijon or wholegrain)

salt and pepper

Boil the potatoes until soft, mash with butter and seasoning to taste and stir in the saffron infused milk.

Melt the butter in a sauce pan on a medium heat, add the flour and stir to make a roux. Cook out for several minutes.

Slowly whisk in the milk, stirring continuously, until the sauce has thickened.

Add the mustard and cooked leeks, season and stir well. (Cover the sauce with cling film if not using straight away, to stop a skin forming).

Place fish pie mix and prawns in a dish (I used a le Creuset casserole dish).

Add bechamel sauce and stir well to combine.

Top with mashed potato, making sure there are no gaps. I like to fluff my mash with a fork to make wavy lines.

Cook in a pre-heated 180c oven for about 40 minutes, or until top is brown and the centre is hot and bubbling.

Eat with peas. Always peas. And maybe a glass of Picpoul.