Blueberry Crumble Squares

I'm a big fan of blueberries. My 'signature' cake is a blueberry with soured cream frosting and it's so because it's the one I always make. It's easy and delicious and Christ it's got FRUIT in it so it must be healthy, right? Blueberries are so expensive in the supermarkets though so when I saw this lot at Lewisham Market for £1 I rubbed my bargain-hunting hands with glee.


There are only so many handfuls of blueberries you can scoff by the handful before you feel a burning desire to mix them with butter and sugar. I decided to break tradition and try a new recipe. The ever trusty Smitten Kitchen popped up instantaneously and my mind was made up.

I made some tweaks. I ALWAYS make some tweaks. Ironically, when I came to making this recipe I didn't have enough blueberries left. Turns out I had shovelled too many into my gob. I ramped up the fruit flavour by not only adding lemon, but orange. For a minute I worried that the orange would overshadow the blueberry flavour.

My fears were unfounded and it came out beautifully fragrant; a whiff of orange, the jammy blueberries popped and stained the cakey-like base purple. The crumble topping was gorgeously crisp - it doesn't stay like that after being refrigerated though, so scoff them all on the same day or get some sort of airtight container. I can't wait to make these again (so, after I visit Lewisham on Saturday...) and next time, there are definitely nuts going into that crumble topping.

Blueberry Crumble Squares

(Adapted from Smitten Kitchen)

600gr blueberries
220gr caster sugar
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp vanilla extract
450gr plain flour
225gr butter, chilled
A pinch of salt
1 egg
1 lemon, zested and juiced
Juice of 1 small orange
90gr brown sugar
6 tsp cornstarch

Preheat the oven to 190 degrees C. Grease a rectangular baking pan.

Mix together the blueberries with the orange juice, lemon juice and zest, brown sugar in a bowl. Stir well. Add the cornstarch and mix well.

Add the flour, baking powder, vanilla extract, salt and caster sugar to a large bowl. Add the egg, then add the butter cut into cubes. Mix and rub the butter into the flour quickly to create a crumbly dough. Pat half the dough into the bottom of the baking tin and pat down and into the corners. Spread the blueberries and the juice on top, then top lightly with the rest of the crumbly dough mix.

Bake for 45mins on the top shelf of the oven. The topping should be nicely browned, if not leave in for a bit longer. Remove, leave to cool in the tin completely and then cut into squares. Serve with ice cream or custard.

Orange & Hazelnut Stollen Squares

Mince pies are great and all - especially with a sliver of cheese under the lids of the pies, and baked till warm. Seriously. - but shop bought ones aren't great, and I just ran out of time to make mincemeat. I spied Dan Lepard's orange & pistachio stollen bars on The Guardian and they looked like the perfect Christmas treat to knock together. The master of baking, I knew Lepard's recipe would see me right. I made some substitutions and what emerged from the oven was festively spiced, nice and squidgy and perfect with a glass of mulled cider.

Orange & Hazelnut Stollen Squares

175gr caster sugar
75gr butter
125gr full fat cream cheese
1 tsp baking powder
1 egg
2 tsp orange extract
1 tsp orange zest
1 tsp glycerine (I found this in the baking section of Sainsburys)
1 tsp mixed spice
3/4 tsp cardamom seeds, ground and husks discarded
100gr dried currants
100gr chopped hazelnuts
75gr ground almonds
250gr strong white flour
250gr marzipan
Melted butter and icing sugar

Beat together the cream cheese, butter, sugar, orange extract, zest, glycerine and spices. Add the egg and mix well, then add the baking powder, ground almonds and flour. Mix this well; it's quite a dry mixture.

Add to a foil-lined baking tin and use your fingers to press into an even rectangle into the corners. Bake at 180 degrees C for 30 minutes so that it is puffed and golden.

Remove, brush generously with butter. Once cooled, peel off the foil and dust heavily with icing sugar. Apparently this keeps for a fortnight but it didn't last more than an evening in my house.

Black Pudding & Apple Sossidge Rolls

I'm not sure why but I associate sossidge rolls most with Christmas. Perhaps it's the decadence of wrapping pork in buttery, fluffy pastry? Or that I mainly make them for parties, most of which occur around Christmas time. I usually try and put a twist on them; mixing the sausagemeat with raw chorizo works well, as did these beauties; black pudding and apple. The black pudding gives it a deeper porky flavour, with the chunks of the Bramley apple bringing out the flavour more and adding some sweetness. I've found that fruit works the best; chunks of soft apricot and apple with some hot smoked paprika also went down a storm.

Black Pudding & Apple Sossidge Rolls

Makes shitloads

500gr sausagemeat
2 slices of black pudding
1 small Bramley apple
1 small onion
1 sheet of ready rolled puff pastry, or make your own rough puff
1 egg

Preheat the oven to 200 degrees C. Dice the apple and the onion. Mix with the sausagemeat. Chop the black pudding up finely and then add to the sausagemeat, mixing well again. Slice the sheet of pastry lengthways into three. Add the sausagemeat in a roll down the middle of each sheet and pinch the pastry closed around it.

Slice into bite sized pieces. You can freeze this on a sheet now and bag it later, or brush with egg and bake on a greased tray for 20 - 25 minutes, until golden brown.

Baked Strawberry Cheesecake

I don't bake often, as with just the two of us we'd have to get through an awful lot of cake to avoid waste but when a gathering is planned, it seems the perfect opportunity to try out a new recipe. This was based on a raspberry cheesecake recipe I'd seen, but as strawberries are just coming into season, I thought it would make a good and seasonal substitute.

The recipe needs a bit of tweaking; as delicious as it was, the base could have been crunchier and the filling a touch more set, so I've added what I think you should alter to achieve this in brackets. Nonetheless, it was devoured. The cooked strawberries are sweet and soft while the fresh fruit on top gives good bite and a touch of tartness.


Baked Strawberry Cheesecake

Serves around 8

600gr cream cheese
8 digestive biscuits (I'd suggest using 10 for a drier, crispier base)
50gr butter
142ml soured cream
2 tbsp plain flour
2 eggs + 1 yolk
175gr caster sugar + 1 tbsp
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
500gr strawberries

Preheat the oven to 180 degrees C. Hull and halve the strawberries. Process the digestives into fine crumbs, and met the butter. Mix the two together well and press into a 20cm springform tin. Bake for 10 minutes, and then leave to cool.

Combine the eggs, cream cheese, soured cream, vanilla essence and flour in a bowl. Add the 175gr sugar and whisk until light and fluffy. Stir in half of the strawberries, and then spoon into your tin. Bake for 50 - 55 minutes. The middle should have a slight wobble when you remove it from the oven. Leave to cool in the tin.

Halve the remaining strawberries and put in a small saucepan with the 1tbsp sugar and a tablespoon of water. Heat gently until the strawberries are very soft. Squeeze through a sieve to get the juice. When serving, pile the fresh strawberries on top and drizzle with the strawberry sauce.

Chicken & Mushroom Filo Pie

I tend to over-cater. My reasoning is that it is always better to have too much than not enough and I've never knowingly sent anyone from my house hungry. Which is why roasting two enormous chickens and cooking a million (yes, a million) roast potatoes to feed 5 of us for a Sunday lunch seemed a good idea.

In the aftermath, we all ate ourselves into a stupor. There were people strewn across my living room floor, groaning in over-indulgence. We had a communal nap.

And yet there were still leftovers. A simple dinner of bubble and squeak made light work of the leftover vegetables. The carcasses of the chickens were stripped, flesh ripped off the bones and the stock bubbled in the oven overnight. I woke up the next day and staggered into the kitchen in my pyjamas, polishing off a cleansing bowl of broth for breakfast. When the time came, the stock was reduced by two thirds. Dark and rich, the resultant liquid coated the mouth with intense chicken flavour. There was only one thing for it; PIE.

Filo pastry is a total bitch to work with if, like me, you are cursed with clumsy oafishness. I gave up trying to line my dish with layers upon layers of delicate casing. Instead, the leaves of pastry were scrunched up to make a topping. Crisp shards crunched in the mouth giving way to a rich creamy filling. I did away with the typical mashed potatoes and instead opted simply for courgettes fried with garlic to accompany the pie.

Chicken & Mushroom Filo Pie

Serves 4

Leftover cooked chicken meat - about 300gr
300gr mini portabello mushrooms, chopped roughly
1 leek, chopped roughly
2 stalks of celery, diced
1 rasher of smoked bacon, chopped finely
3 fat cloves of garlic
3 sprigs of thyme
1 large handful of parsley
200ml (ish) strong chicken stock
50ml double cream
3 tbsp plain flour
50gr butter
A few sheets of filo pastry
A sprinkling of hot smoked paprika

Preheat the oven to 180 degrees C.

Add some oil to a pan and fry the bacon for a few minutes. Add the leek and the celery and fry till softened. Crush the garlic and add to the pan, stirring well. Throw in the mushrooms with a hefty pinch of salt along with the thyme leaves. Fry for a few minutes, then add the stock and simmer for 15 minutes. Mix the flour with a bit of the sauce mixture in a small bowl until smooth ad whisk into the sauce. Add the chicken and the double cream, simmer until nicely thickened. Take off the heat and add the parsley, chopped finely. Taste for seasoning.

Melt the butter in a saucepan. Spoon the chicken mixture into a baking dish. Carefully brush each filo sheet with butter and scrunch lightly, laying it on top of the baking dish. Repeat until it is covered. Sprinkle with the hot paprika and place in the oven, cooking for 40 - 45 minutes.

Remove and leave to stand for 5 minutes before serving.

Pork Pies

It aint Christmas without a pork pie to tuck into for breakfast. The plate adorned with pickles, it is the breakfast you can scoff in your pyjamas, clutching a bloody mary, feeling ever so slightly dirty for consuming such large amounts of pork fat so early in the day. I highly recommend it.

I went a little over-board this year. Maybe I didn't need quite so much meat. I couldn't help myself. Besides which, is there ever such a thing as too much pie?

(The answer is yes. When I was a child I was sick in my sleep from eating too much pie. True story.)

Scale the quantities down if you like. Or give a pie away as a Christmas present. Or freeze it.

Pork Pie

Feeds an army

For the filling:

700gr pork shoulder
600gr belly pork
6 rashers of bacon
4 large sage leaves
1/2 nutmeg, grated
4 stalks of thyme
2 Bramley apples
1/2 tsp salt
Loads of black pepper
A large pinch of white pepper

For the pastry:

100gr lard
100gr butter
150mls water
550gr plain flour
1 tsp salt
1 egg + 1 egg for glazing

For the jelly:

2 pigs trotters
1 bay leaf
2 carrots
2 stalks of celery
Large pinch of salt
1 onion
15 peppercorns

First thing's first, over your trotter in water, whack in the aromatics and simmer it for 3 hours, topping up with water every now and again. Strain, season. You want to end up with about 300mls of jelly.

Chop all the meat by hand into small pieces. It's tedious and boring and there's a strong risk you'll chop parts of fingernails off at least once but it's worth the nice coarse texture of the pie innards. Dice the apple roughly, then mince the herbs finely. Add the spices and then the salt. Fry a little patty in some oil and leave to cool - taste test for seasoning. Make sure you eat it cold, as you'll be eating the pie cold.

For the pastry, melt the lard and the butter in a pan. Don't let it boil. Add the flour, salt, water and egg to a bowl and mix well - add the lard and butter and mix until combined. Form into a ball and whack it in the fridge for an hour. (If it's a bit sloppy wrap it in cling film, stick it in a bowl. It'll firm up.)

Preheat your oven to 180 degrees C. Grease your pie tin (or in my case, Daddy Pyrex and Baby Pyrex bowls) well. Slice the dough in half, then slice a third off each half - these will be the lids. Roll out evenly and line your pyrex / pie tin. Pile in your meat, then top with the lid loosely and crimp it on. Cut out a hole to pour your jelly into. Glaze with the remaining egg wash and add some nice decorations - leaves, or something. Egg wash the decorations.

Bung in the oven for 30 mins, then turn it down to 150 degrees C and cook for another 40 mins. Remove and allow to cool completely. If your trotter stock has turned to jelly, warm in a pan to liquidise it. Using a funnel, pour it very slowly into your pie. Don't overfill it - you must be patient. Then bung in the fridge overnight.

Serve at room temperature with mustard and pickles.

Lemon Meringue Pie

Generally speaking, I prefer fruity desserts. I'm not a huge fan of chocolate and after a great whopping meal, something a little tart and fresh goes a long way to perking you up. I got the idea in my head that I wanted to make a lemon meringue pie and it wouldn't leave me. Finally, on a rainy Saturday afternoon I gave in and made it; a little sunshine was injected into the room when I had a bite.

Lemon Meringue Pie

For the pastry:

200gr plain flour
60gr butter, cold
3 tbsp water
1 tbsp icing sugar
A pinch of salt

Preheat the oven to 200 degress C. Sift the flour, icing sugar and salt into a bowl and add the butter, cut into small cubes. Rub together until breadcrumb texture. Add the water and work into a ball. Don't knead it. Roll out so that it is enough to cover your 23 inch loose bottomed flan tin. Line with greaseproof paper, fill with baking beans and blind bake for 15 mins.

For the filling:

40gr cornflour
3 lemons
3 egg yolks
80gr butter
80gr sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
100ml water

Set up a bowl on top of a saucepan of simmering water. Zest and juice the lemons into this bowl. Add the water and the cornflour and whisk constantly until it is a thick paste. Take off the heat and whisk in the egg yolks, butter and sugar. Stir in the vanilla extract.

For the meringue:

80gr sugar
3 egg whites
1 tbsp rose water

Turn the oven down to 180 degrees C. Whisk the egg whites until they are stiff peaks. Fold in the rose water and add 40gr of the sugar. Whisk again until stiff and glossy. Using a metal spoon, fold in the remaining sugar, and give it another whisk.

To assemble, spoon in the lemon mixture and top with the meringue, making slight peaks. If you like you can sprinkle with a little extra sugar for a crunchy top. Bake for 20 minutes, leave to cool and turn out.

Rosemary, Walnut and Fleur de Sel Bread Rolls

Receiving my KitchenAid stand mixer in the mail was the closest thing to Christmas in the middle of the summer. I opened the package like an excited child and gazed at its beautiful light pink tint — it was just perfect.

I was looking forward to using the stand mixer for bread because one of the three attachments that comes standard with the mixer is a dough hook. The dough hook attachment is amazing for kneading dough, a part of bread-making that has traditionally been a point of frustration for home bakers.

This bread recipe was a little time-consuming, but the spectacular results made it well worthwhile. Because it is a basic recipe, it can be used in a myriad of ways. Try adding some cooked diced pancetta, some coarsely chopped olives, sundried tomatoes or some grated parmesan — the possibilities really are endless.

I flavored these rolls with generous amounts of chopped walnuts and fresh rosemary, then lightly brushed the rolls with olive oil right before baking them. The finishing touch was sprinkling them with a little fleur de sel.

Rosemary, Walnut and Fleur de Sel Bread Rolls
Click here for this recipe as well as other delicious Kitchen Aid sponsored treats!

Aubergine & Tomato Galette

I always thought a galette was a pancake made out of buckwheat flour, but like many terms in food, it also means something else. Wikipedia says it's a general French term for any kind of flat, round or freeform cakes. This one is very freeform indeed.

I first saw the galette on this blog and knew I had to try it immediately, and of course with my favourite vegetable with the aubergine. The crust, made with sour cream was flaky, crumbly and light; the cream is definitely an inspired addition. Soft melting vegetables, fresh aniseedy flavours of basil and with a nice cheesy hit, a slice of this with a dressed green bean salad made a filling but summery dinner.

Aubergine and Tomato Galette

Feeds 4

1 large or two medium aubergines
6 large ripe tomatoes
A handful of basil leaves
1 tub of ricotta
1 ball of mozzerella
50gr Parmesan
2 cloves of garlic

200gr plain flour
115gr butter, very cold cut into a dice
4 tbsp water
4 tbsp sour cream
A large pinch of salt
A squeeze of lemon juice
1 egg yolk

Slice the aubergine to about a finger's thickness and fry in hot oil on both sides until browned. Set to one side. Slice the tomatoes to a similar thickness, drizzle with oil. Mince the two cloves of garlic and scatter on top, seasoning with salt and pepper. Place under a medium grill for about 15 minutes.

Drain the mozerella ball and place in a sieve with a plate on top, and a tin of beans on the plate to squeeze some water out. Add the flour and salt to a big bowl. Add the butter and rub into the flour, working quickly. In a separate bowl, mix the water, sour cream and lemon juice until it's all incorporated and add it to the flour. Mix with your hands until it forms a dough and then stop immediately. Wrap in clingfilm and put in the fridge for an hour.

Preheat the oven to 200 degrees C. Grease a large sheet of greaseproof paper and place on a baking tray. Roll the pastry out into a rectangle to a half inch thickness. Leaving about a 3 inch gap, spread the ricotta over the pastry. Place a row of tomato slices (these should be thick, messy and gloopy), then a row of aubergine slices, slightly overlapping until you get to the other side. Scatter the basil leaves on top, reserving about 3 or 4. Slice the mozerella ball roughly and place the slices evenly on top, then repeat with the tomato and aubergine. Grate the Parmesan on top.

Glaze the pastry with the egg yolk and place in the oven for 30 to 40 minutes, until it's all bubbly and lovely and the pastry is browned. Leave to stand for 10 minutes, then slice the remaining basil leaves into slivers and scatter on top before serving.

The Squidgiest Brownies You Ever Did Taste

Last weekend saw me helping my good friend Helen out with her Big Lunch. It was a completely mammoth task, pulled off brilliantly; we figured that we'd be cooking for around 30 people, and donations flooded in left right and centre from generous producers and lovely pub people. For a full list and a video of all the shenanigans, have a look at Helen's excellent post here.

The Beast and Gilberta, ready for action

A particular item we made garnered lots of compliments and many requests for the recipe, so I thought it best I post it here. These brownies are properly squidgy; oozy, gooey centres, crisp shiny tops and studded with nuts. I spied more than two people slathering Rodda's Clotted Cream on top of them which is seriously indulgent, and seriously wonderful.

I used to post on the BBC Messageboards, which is where I got this recipe from, specifically a user called Sue_L. She was amazing for all things baked, and though this is the only brownie recipe I've tried, it's so good I haven't bothered trying any others. There's just no need. I have, of course, made a couple of teeny weeny tweaks.

Squidgy Brownies

200gr butter
1 large pinch of salt (it works...)
600gr caster sugar (yes, really 600gr)
200gr chocolate - use at least 70% cocoa; we used Green & Blacks' 72%
250gr strong white flour (makes them chewier)
4 eggs
1 tsp vanilla extract
4 tbsp cocoa
1 handful each of hazelnuts and walnuts

Break up the chocolate and add to a bowl with the butter. Set over a bain marie, ensuring that no water gets into the bowl or you'll have a big seized mess.

Once melted, take the bowl off the heat and leave to cool for 10 mins. Add the sugar in and then the eggs, 1 at a time, beating them in well as you go. Add the vanilla extract and the sift in the flour. Sift in the cocoa and beat with a wooden spoon until smooth. Chop the nuts and mix them in.

Pour the mixture into a lined deep square tin or roasting dish and bake at 180 degrees C. After 40 minutes, give it a skewering to check its doneness. It should still have a little chocolate stick to the pokey but not so it's sloppy. Remove and leave to cool in the tin, and then remove and cut into squares.

Serve with clotted cream if you dare.

Thanks to Helen for letting me use her photos.

Pear, Maple & Walnut Cake

I'm a bit of a picky one when it comes to cake. I love cakes made with fruit and yet I don't like fruitcake. Pears are a particular favourite of mine, so when I saw this recipe, it jumped straight to the top of the 'must make' list.

I made a few tweaks to the recipe to include Cognac (which always improves things) and maple. Finally, slowly but surely, that kilo of maple sugar is being put to good use. The pears ensure there is no dryness to the cake with the maple giving it an almost caramel flavour. Sweet, dense and with the occasional lump of walnut, this made an excellent accompaniment to the biggest mug of tea I could find.

Pear, Maple & Walnut Cake

350gr plain flour
1 tsp bicarbonate of soda
1/4 tsp baking powder
3 eggs
175gr maple sugar (double this if you're using normal sugar as maple sugar is twice as sweet)
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 tsp salt
1 tsp ground cinnamon
2 large pears (I used Comte)
160gr butter, softened
2 small handfuls of walnuts, chopped
1 tbsp icing sugar
A splash of Cognac or brandy

Preheat your oven to 175 degrees C. Grease a 9" springform cake tin.

Mix together the flour, cinnamon, baking powder, salt, and bicarbonate of soda in a large mixing bowl. Add the chopped walnuts and then add the sugar, butter, Cognac, vanilla extract and eggs to the flour mixture.

Peel the pears and grate them. Mix thoroughly through the cake mixture so that it becomes batter and then pour into your greased cake tin and place in the oven. Bake for 1 hour - 1 hour 10 mins - it should be browned on top and a skewer inserted should come out clean.

Cool the cake in the pan for about 20 minutes. Then turn it out onto a wire rack to cool completely. Dust it with icing sugar.

Parsley & Anchovy Dumplings

The light and healthy eating could only last so long. Wind blowing around this corner of South East London turned my nose and ears red; snow wreaked havoc for the overland trains, rendering my journey to and from work to be an hour and a half each way to travel just over 5 miles. Sheet ice covered the pavements and I slid my way around. I kept crossing my fingers for a snow day, but alas, off to work I trudged. Hearty feeding was needed to lift the spirits and to warm you from inside out.

The first time I had dumplings with stew I was mildly repulsed. Having grown up with the notion that all dumplings were of the Chinese kind, I listened on in horror while my dad told me what suet was. I soon warmed to the idea of it as the doughy, puffy dumplings soaked up the meaty gravy in stodgy happiness.

I decided to add a twist to these dumplings. Usually when I make a beef stew I dissolve a couple of anchovies in the oil before adding anything else. This gives the stew an deeper, richer flavour with none of the fishiness. Instead, the anchovies went into the dumplings with parsley for some grassy freshness. It worked beautifully, just as I'd hoped - the anchovies had melted into the dumplings well. The tops were slightly crisp and they yielded softly under the fork. The shin of beef in red wine stew was complete.

Parsley & Anchovy Dumplings

Makes 6 - enough for 2

110gr self raising flour
50gr suet
4 anchovy fillets
A large handful of finely chopped parsley
1/2 tbsp mustard powder
Water
Pepper

Sift the flour into a large bowl with the mustard powder. Chop the anchovy fillets finely and add to the flour with the parsley and suet. Add black pepper to taste (the anchovies are salty enough to eschew salt) and a dribble of water. Work the water into the ingredients well, before adding a little more until the dough comes together and isn't too sticky. Roll into balls and place atop your finished stew, baking at 200 degrees uncovered for 20 minutes.

A Baked Egg Brunch

Brunch in my house rarely excludes eggs. Eggs are comforting, whether they're simply scrambled, softly boiled or delicately poached. A favourite brunch of mine is Eggs Florentine, especially with foaming Hollandaise but sometimes it can be too much effort, or too heart-stoppingly buttery.

I hadn't tried baking eggs before I made this. It worked well; simple flavourings, runny yolk and a toasted English muffin to scoop up the goodness. There's no set recipe as such as I'm sure you can really add whatever you like - bacon, slow-roasted tomatoes, cooked cubed potato - but here's what I did.

Baked Eggs with Spinach

Serves 1

2 handfuls of spinach
An inch of salami or chorizo, diced
A shallot
1 large free range egg
A dribble of cream or milk
A grating of cheese
Salt & pepper
Some sort of bread product for scooping
Butter

Preheat the oven to 160 degrees C. In a frying pan, add the salami or chorizo and fry slowly to render the fat out. Add the shallot, sliced, and fry until soft and translucent. Add the spinach and fry on a high heat until just wilted. Drain off any water, and add to a ramekin. Make a well, crack the egg into it, top with the cream and cheese with a touch of salt and pepper and bake for 10 minutes, checking often - you want the egg whites to have just set.

Toast your bread product, butter it, scoop the egg up and eat - preferably with some yolk dribbling down your chin.

No Turkeys Here

We don't have turkey for Christmas; haven't done for years now. It's not a bird we enjoy eating, so we did away with it. In the past we had duck, goose and venison so this year we decided to do a classic; Beef Wellington.

I used the recipe on this blog, a Gordon Ramsey one which I tested for Olive. The mushroom mixture was studded with raw duck foie gras, for some festive cheer. Considering I cooked it alone with only gin for company, it worked out really well - perfectly rare and ridiculously rich. No dry turkey meat to struggle through in sight.

Making the rough puff pastry. It's a faff, but worth making your own

Mushroom mixture with duck foie gras

Herb crepes

Beef fillet, seared and brushed with mustard

Assembly - crepes, then Parma ham

Mushroom mixture added

Some skillful rolling

Out of the oven

Served with a rather scarily vibrant red wine sauce

A Pork Pie (or Three)

This year for Christmas, instead of presents, my family set the task of buying a food present worth the value of £10 that we could all enjoy (which rules out cheese and booze - my sister and mum are strange beings). I racked my brains for a while, and then came up with the perfect solution. Pork. Pies. There is no such thing as Christmas without them.

I'd first seen Josh's entry for these over a year ago and had book marked them to try, but of course never got round to it. With a combination of his and Just Cook It's recipe, I devised my own. A day was booked off work - this is a lengthy process and the weekend was too far away - and I set to work.

First thing's first, the jelly that surrounds the meat and the pastry needed to be made. Two pigs trotters, cleaved in half, went into a litre of chicken stock with bay leaves, black peppercorns, carrots, onion and celery. You want to simmer this for three hours, then strain it, and reduce it to 300mls.

The Pastry:

100gr lard
100gr butter
550gr plain flour
150mls water
1.5 tsp salt
2 eggs, plus one for glazing

Melt the lard and the butter in a saucepan but don't boil it. Add the salt to the flour, then break the eggs in and mix the water and fat. Mix until you have a smooth ball, wrap in cling film and chill for an hour.

The Meat:

375gr pork shoulder
375gr belly pork
2 rashers of smoked back bacon
1 tsp sage
1 tsp thyme
1 tsp white pepper
1/2 tsp black pepper
1/2 tsp nutmeg
Salt

Chop the meat into small chunks. I couldn't be bothered to chop it any more finely, so I had quite coarse meat which I liked. In a mixing bowl, add the nutmeg, chopped sage, thyme, peppers and some salt. Mix together well, and take a teaspoonful and fry it, to check the seasoning. Food can taste a bit more bland when cold so be generous with the salt.

To make the pastry, pat into a rectagular shape and then cut in half. Then cut a third off each half to reserve for the lids. Using a well floured jar, shape the pies around the outside of the jar (I used a Branston Pickle jar). Ease the jar out and then fill with the meat mixture. Roll the lid out to fit the top of the pie and cut a hole out of the centre. Crimp the lid onto the pie.

I wanted to make a mini pie as well which is why I have three, but this amount should make two large pies. Glaze the pies with the remaining egg, and place in a preheated oven on 180 degrees for 30 minutes, then turn it down to 160 for 20 minutes.

Take the pies out and leave to cool a little. Stick a small funnel in the hole of the top and pour (VERY carefully) the trotter stock into the pie. Be slow about it as it takes some time to get in there. Leave to cool, and refridgerate overnight before eating with copious pickles and mustard.

There's a few things I learnt from this pie adventure. Firstly - make absolutely sure you've crimped your lids on properly. After a warning from someone on Twitter, I thought I had made sure the lids were well sealed. Not so. As such, I had to make up a water / flour solution to plug the seams with to stop the jelly stock from dribbling out, and then pick the seam off. It worked, but it was a faff. Also, don't try and roll the lid too thinly, or it will crack right down the middle (but still taste good). Otherwise, these were perfect.

Leek & Celeriac Gratin

A recent trip to Lisbon reignited my love for roasted chicken. I often find that it is my least favourite of the meats, but there we had a meal of rotisserie chicken, brushed liberally with piri piri, served simply with some chips and some flabby salad. It was one of the best meals I had there. Ripping apart hunks of juicy flesh, I managed to scoff three quarters of the crisp-skinned beauty before I declared myself stuffed.

Last Sunday, peering out of the smudged window of the bus delivering me back to South East London, I wasn't feeling well at all. A Christmas cocktail of mulled wine, gin and some bad dancing rendered me forlorn and nauseous in the aftermath. I could only think of comfort; something chickeny, something decadently creamy, and a dinner was born. Earthy celeriac baked in leek-scented garlicky cream accompanied our roast that night. It made for a rather brown plate of food, but nevertheless, it was the perfect cure.


The creamy base of the gratin means that you don't need a gravy, but don't waste those gorgeous, marmitey meat juices. Strain the fat off, keep it warm, and dump some freshly boiled halved new potatoes in there. The potatoes suck the juices right up, and it imparts a chickeny flavour that is second to none.

Leek & Celeriac Gratin

Serves 4 frugally, or 3 generously

1/2 a celeriac
2 leeks
1 fat clove of garlic
300mls double cream
150 mls milk
A scraping of nutmeg
Salt & pepper
A handful of chopped flatleaf parsley

Preheat the oven to 180 degrees C. Chop the leeks finely and wash thoroughly. In a small non-stick frying pan, fry the leeks in a little oil slowly, until they are softened and add the clove of garlic, crushed. Fry until the moisture has evaporated. Meanwhile, peel the celeriac and slice to the thickness of a pound coin. Add the cream and milk to the leeks with the nutmeg and bring to the boil.

In an appropriate dish (I used a 24cm oval Le Creuset) lay the first layer of celeriac and season with salt and pepper. Add the leeks in the cream to make a layer, then repeat with the celeriac, seasoning as you go. Add the leek cream mixture in alternate layers until you run out of celeriac. The milk and cream should cover the top of the celeriac but if it doesn't, top up with some milk. Cover with foil and place in the oven, baking for half an hour. Take the foil off, turn it down to 160 degrees C and bake for another half hour. At this point you could sprinkle the top with breadcrumbs and cheese, but to be honest it's pretty rich as it is. Stand for a good 10 minutes before sprinkling with the parsley and serving.

This kind of dish is perfect with roasted meats; the oven is on anyway, and it can be finished off when the meat is resting.

Pie Weather

Rain. There has been so much of it. Every morning I draw the blinds back to find the balcony deluged. My shoes are leaking, my hair is frizzing and the wind? Well the wind only serves to make me look (even more) like a banshee. It has been a trying few weeks. The only consolation in this is that the weather makes me thinks of hearty food. As the rain rolls down the windows and the wind howls around this corner of South East London, thoughts turn to curries, stews and pie.

I spotted ham hocks and immediately snapped them up. They were such great big meaty beasts they needed to be simmered in separate saucepans. Having been cooked for a few hours with some classic flavourings, the flabby skin was discarded and pink hunks of meat carved off the bone. Paired with some greenery in a lightly creamy sauce, the home-made rough puff pastry topped it and added some extra richness. I was surprised by how easy the pastry was to make; I've heard from several people that life is too short to make puff pastry. While it didn't have as many layers as shop-bought, it had enough to be light, flaky and buttery.

This isn't a recipe you can knock up after work - there aren't many ingredients but it requires advance planning. What you are rewarded with is pure comfort to dive into. I found it didn't need any potatoes; just a side of steamed greens to ease the conscience.

Ham, Leek & Pea Pie

Serves 4

2 ham hocks
5 sticks of celery
4 carrots
1 onion
1 clove of garlic
2 sprigs of thyme
1 leek
300gr peas
100ml milk
100gr butter
100gr plain flour

For the pastry

250gr unsalted butter at room temperature
125gr plain flour
125gr white bread flour
A pinch of salt
Cold water
1 egg

Soak the ham hocks in cold water overnight, changing the water if possible. This is to prevent the meat from being overly salty. Place the hocks in a pan of water and bring to the boil to remove impurities. Once it does so, discard the water and place in another pan of water, bringing to the boil. Add the onion, carrot and 4 sticks of celery, roughly chopped. Simmer for 3 hours.

Remove the hocks, reserving the liquid and leave to cool. Slice off the skin and hack the meat off the bone, discarding any big lumps of fat and gristle. Slice the remaining celery and leek finely and fry in a pan in a little oil. Add the clove of garlic, chopped finely, and the leaves of the thyme stripped off the stalk. Fry until softened. Meanwhile, melt the butter in a saucepan and then add the flour to make a roux. Add the milk bit by bit, whisking any lumps out as you go. When all the milk is added, take off the heat and set to one side.

Strain the liquid the ham hocks were simmering in. Add 800mls of this (depending on how big your pie dish is) to the pan with the vegetables in and slowly whisk in the milky roux. Bring to the simmer and simmer for 10 or 15 minutes until it thickens up nicely. Lastly, add 3/4's of the meat in along with the peas (they'll cook in the residual heat) and take off the heat. Taste, season with salt and pepper if needed, and then spoon it into your pie dish to cool.

To make the pastry, I modified this recipe, whacked it on my pie, glazed it with egg and baked it at 180 degrees for 40 minutes. It fed 3 of us until we felt sick; I think I even ate it cold (pastry and all) out of the fridge the next day.

The stock made from simmering the hocks makes a great soup - it does jellify but that's a good thing. I added red lentils and pearl barley and with the last quarter of ham in it and some wilted spinach, it made a really delicious dinner.

I am all hammed out... for now.

Pastéis de Belém - Lisbon, Portugal

Before I launch into any booze-drenched posts of the European Wine Bloggers Conference, held in Lisbon last weekend, I wanted to get this out there. This is the first place, reportedly, to sell Pastéis de Nata; Portugese custard tarts. These tarts are believed to be created by the monks of Mosteiro dos Jerónimo, a monastery in Belém, before the 18th Century. I was almost loathe to eat any on our trip to Lisbon until we visited this place as it had been so highly recommended. Of course I couldn't resist though... One does need a point of reference, after all. They were on offer everywhere.

We left the trip to Belém until Monday, at the very end of our long weekend in Lisbon. As such, we were a bedraggled bunch. It took us two hours to get there, due to getting on the wrong train(s). Pastéis de Belém is enormous - at first glance it looked like just a large cafe, but on exploring further it really was maze-like with blue and white tiled cavernous rooms out the back.

We sat down, thirsty and hungover, to peruse the menu. Salt cod cakes, beef croquettas, a couple of quiches and of course the tarts were ordered. Service was a bit scatty; our waitress arrived with our quiches, then whisked them away again to get them warmed up. They returned cold. The ham quiche was always going to me more tasty than the spinach, and it didn't let us down. Both were hefty examples.

I didn't enjoy the meat paste texture of the beef croquettes much, but the salt cod cakes were great. Slightly garlicky, flaky soft cod with delicious mashed potato, fried up and still warm. A little ketchup wouldn't have gone astray - any kind of fried potato product has me looking for the red stuff.

But what of the main event? The custard tarts were, as suspected, excellent. Flaky pastry, the outer of which was so brittle and thin it shattered like glass in the mouth - though far less harmful, of course. The custard filling had a pleasingly creamy texture, without being overtly eggy, nor too sweet. In short, I loved it. I debated having another, but as we'd already decided we would be having a second lunch, I held back.

All this, with 3 bottles of water (I told you it had been a heavy weekend...) came to 15 Euros in total.

A mere hour later, I dived into this - salt cod fillet, at a nearby restaurant. I have developed a worrying addiction to the fish.

Pastéis de Belém

Rua de Belém no. 84 a 92

1300 - 085 Lisboa

Portugal

Tel: +351 21 363 74 23