Macmillan Coffee Morning

A good friend of mine works for Macmillan Cancer Support, and she asked me if I fancied getting involved in a campaign of theirs, called Macmillan Coffee Morning. The idea is to either bake or buy some cakes, invite your friends over or bring them to work, have a coffee, eat some cake and make a small donation to Macmillan. The official date for this is Friday 25th September, but you can really do it whenever you like. I agreed to do it with some trepidation; after all, I'm not much of a baker. Nevertheless, I thought this would be a good learning curve, and all for a good cause too.

I picked Saturday 12th September to host the coffee morning at my flat. As I was inviting friends from all over London, I didn't want to choose a Sunday as more likely than not, there would be transport issues. With this in mind, I took the Friday previous to it off work, and a friend and I set about baking some cakes.

As we started baking, we realised that perhaps 4 cakes wouldn't be enough for 16 or so people. I wanted to have a decent variety of cakes even if it did mean leftovers, so we added another two to the list. The trusted blueberry cake got jazzed up with using raspberries as well in the mix. Next up, seeing as it was a coffee theme, we decided upon a Irish coffee meringue roulade, taken from Rachel Allen's 'Bake'. The coffee-scented meringue was made on the Friday, with the boozy filling of whiskey, coffee and whipped cream rolled into it last minute on the Saturday.

It looks like a bit of a car crash - or some sort of ancient rock, but interestingly it was the first one to get scoffed up. Probably the booze.

Other favourites were this pear and almond cake. I had the recipe saved on my laptop for a while, but I have no idea where it's from. If anyone knows, then let me know and I'll credit them.

Pear and almond cake

Serves 6

175g unsalted butter, softened
125g caster sugar, plus 1 tbsp
3 pears, firm but not too hard, peeled, cored and quartered - we used William pears
2 eggs
75g ground almonds
75g self-raising flour

Preheat the oven to 170C/325F/gas mark 3. Grease a 20cm diameter, springform cake tin and line the base with baking parchment.

Put a frying pan over a medium heat and add 25g of the butter. When it's sizzling, add a tablespoon of sugar and stir until it dissolves. Add the pear quarters and fry in the buttery caramel for five to 10 minutes, until they start to brown and soften (the time taken will vary greatly, depending on how ripe the pears are). Put to one side to cool a little.

Put the remaining butter and sugar in a mixing bowl and cream together until light and fluffy. Beat in the two eggs, one at a time. Tip the ground almonds into the cake batter, then sift in the self-raising flour and fold in gently. Scrape the mixture into the prepared tin. Arrange the pieces of pear on top of the cake. Bake for about 45 minutes, or until a skewer pushed into the centre comes out clean. Place the tin on a wire rack to cool. Serve warm or cold.

Lemon drizzle cake was given a bit of a makeover with the addition of poppy seeds, and it was nice and tangy. On holiday earlier this year, two of my friends made a Victoria sponge with orange cream which worked beautifully, so we modified this one so taking inspiration from that by sandwiching it with lemon curd and cream whipped with orange zest to give it a fruity twist. Lastly, a flourless chocolate cake was fudgy, rich and dense. Given it was the only chocolate on offer, I was surprised that it was the least popular. Perhaps something to do with our dusting of icing sugar, which was a bit of a botch job as we'd added too much and then had to brush some off.

No party is complete without some sausage rolls, and these were expertly made by Helen using puff pastry. To 10 sausages-worth of meat we added the zest of a lemon, a hefty pinch or two of chilli, and a handful of finely chopped parsley, which gave them a kick and a lift. Brushed with egg, these were deicious warm out of the oven and were all eaten. Similarly, we made some Parmesan straws and some anchovy straws, also out of puff pastry. These were pretty simple to make but were so delicious - how could they not be, with all that umami. The anchovy ones were my favourite and delivered a mouth-watering, salty hit.

While we were baking on Friday, I had a last minute panic that there wouldn't be enough savoury food so, having a look through the fridge, decided to do a Stilton, spinach and roasted red pepper quiche. Rather rustic-looking, as I snapped off the pastry sides rather impatiently but this, served cold, also went down extremely well and there wasn't a scrap left.

When it came to Saturday morning, I was racked with nerves. I'd asked people to come round at 2pm, but there was still so much to do - like sandwiching the sponge together, decorating the chocolate cake, rolling the meringue. Not to mention tidying the flat and making it all look presentable. I ran into a couple of hitches; the coffee mugs promised to me and the actual coffee itself failed to materialise. I had a little panic, and then as I was basking out in the morning sun, I had a brainwave. It was too hot for coffee - I'd make iced Irish coffees instead. My blender does have an ice-crushing mode, after all. Another thing that failed for us was when we tried to make pork scratchings with sheets of pig skin bought from Morrisons, specifically for this purpose. It just didn't work out under the grill or shallow fried, and we were too scared to deep fry it. So it went in the freezer. If anyone has any suggestions of what to do with about half a kilo of pork skin, let me know.

We nervously watched the clock and put the finishing touches on to everything and everyone started to arrive. Our 6.5 hours worth of baking, stressing out and general hard work paid off; we had a fantastic day in the sunshine of my balcony, eating cake and between us we managed to raise £175 (including donations of two friends who couldn't make it).

I would really recommend doing a coffee morning yourself. We all had a great time catching up, and it gave us an excuse to binge on cake all in the name of charity. Of course, you don't need to go to as much trouble; you can buy the cakes, or get each friend to bring a cake, whatever really. Do let me know if you do a coffee morning of your own; leave me a comment or email me.

A full Flickr set is here and if you do your own Coffee Morning, please take photos, upload them to Flickr and add them to this group so we can all have a nose at the lovely cakes you've baked or bought. A couple of people have asked me where to donate if they wanted to, so I have set up a Just Giving page, here.

So now, a thank you to all my lovely friends who turned up and donated generously. In particular, a huge thank you to Helen for being my baking buddy for a marathon 7 hours, and without which I'd be a nervous, under-prepared wreck. Given that I've never hosted a party of this size, it was invaluable having her there. Another thank you goes to Gin & Crumpets for lending me cake stands and cake slices.

Finally, a big thank-you-I-love-you to the good people at Kitchenaid. They contacted me and donated me The Beast to help us out with our baking; without it our cakes would have been miserable shadows of what they were.

Not-So-Soft Pretzels

Honey & Cinnamon Pretzels

I used to live with a girl who loved pretzels so much that a friend of hers knitted her a pretzel shape out of orange wool. I too love pretzels (and by this I mean big doughy ones rather than the small crisp ones, though being a member of Salty Snacks Anonymous naturally I like them a lot too) but it's not easy to buy them. There's a branch of Auntie Ann's Soft Pretzels in Croydon, but a 40 minute round trip is a bit drastic to satisfy a craving.

Last Sunday while I didn't have any plans, I decided to try and make my own . I consulted 'Bake' by Rachel Allen, and lo and behold - a pretzel recipe jumped forth. As with all bread recipes, it was quite a lengthy one as you need to wait to prove the dough.

Soft Pretzels

Makes 10 - 14

450g strong white flour, sifted
150gr strong brown flour, sifted
1 level tsp fast acting yeast
2 tbsp soft light brown sugar
1 tsp salt
1 tbsp vegetable oil
375ml warm water

For the bicarb solution:
75gr bicarbonate of soda
1 litre of water

Mix the two flours, salt, sugar and yeast in a large bowl (or in my case, the bowl of my mixer). Mix the oil into the water in a measuring jug, and turn the mixer on with the dough hook (or mixing by hand), adding the water and oil solution as you go, until you get a soft dough. Add more water or flour where necessary to ensure it's not too dry or sticky. Knead for 10 minutes, place the dough in an oiled bowl and allow to rise to double, about 2 hours.

Preheat the oven to 230 degrees Celcius. Punch back the dough and knead on a lightly floured surface and then divide it into 10 - 14 balls, each weighing about 100gr. Line a baking tray with parchment. Roll each ball into a sausage shape the thickness of a pencil and then roll it as per this video. Allow to rise for a further 20 minutes.

Bring the water to the boil in a saucepan and dissolve the bicarb in it. Leave it on a simmer and add each pretzel, no more than 3 at a time, to poach for 30 seconds each side. Remove and place on the baking trays. Sprinkle with rock salt, poppy seeds or sesame seeds and bake for 8 - 10 minutes, cooling them on wire racks. Alternatively, bake them plain and then brush with butter melted with sugar, honey and cinnamon.

Several things happened while the pretzels were being made. We got hungry, and so scarfed a whole load of quiche and were a bit full. Then, just as we were doing the poaching / baking, I pulled a plate out of the shelf and one fell out. I tried to catch it, but as it broke a piece jumped up and sliced my thumb open, resulting in much blood, a bit of squealing, and general chaos. So therefore I don't blame Rachel Allen when I say the pretzels were just ok. Truth be told, they were pretty tough and chewy, which is not what I want out of a pretzel. I believe this may be down to over poaching of the pretzel. Or pehaps it was over-kneaded? The recipe specifies 10 minutes by hand, but doesn't say for a mixer. One other problem might have been the inclusion of brown flour which perhaps made them a bit heavier.

I have no idea; I'm an ignoramous when it comes to bread. Either way, when I try it again, I'll be halving the recipe; 10 - 14 pretzels is far too many. Any uneaten ones made a good door stop though.

White Chocolate Mousse with Pomegranate Seeds and Gingersnap Cookies

Cooking with pomegranate can be a little bit of a challenge to those who don't like to get messy in the kitchen. Personally, that's never been an issue of mine. The messier things are, the better the result! These red jewels can really be a tad messy to free, but once out they are sweet, crunchy and absolutely delicious. And don't they add something special to anything they touch?

This is a really, really simple dessert to put together but looks great when it comes out to the table. I like these kind of desserts that you can whip up really fast, and serve for a casual family dinner as well as a fancier affair.

White Chocolate Mousse with Pomegranate Seeds and Gingersnap Cookies
Serves 4

2 cups of whipping cream
1 tablespoon of granulated sugar
4 ounces of white chocolate
2 egg whites
1 pomegranate, seeded
6 ginger snaps cookies

Melt the chocolate in a double boiler. Once melted, leave to cool down in a bowl.
Take a cold stainless steal bowl and pour in the cold whipping cream (placed for 30 minutes in the fridge). Using a hand mixer, whip the cream for 2-3 minutes. Add the granulated sugar and whip until the cream has the consistency of light whipped cream. Place in the fridge.

Beat the egg whites (with a pinch of salt) to firm peaks. Gently fold the egg whites with the cream and add the cooled white chocolate. Take your glass serving bowls to start building the dessert. Add a dozen pomegranate seeds at the bottom of each bowl, top with few ginger snaps pieces and top with a generous ladle of the whipped cream mixture. Add another layer of pomegranate seeds and ginger snaps to decorate.
Tip: If preparing in advance, leave the whipped cream mixture in separate bowl. Do not put the ginger snaps in the fridge or they will become soggy. Build the desserts just before serving. Enjoy!

John Torode's Chicken and Other Birds

Chicken is my least favourite meat. I like it, of course; but I think there are much tastier meats out there. Pork tops this list. When Quadrille Publishing asked me if I'd like to review this cookbook, I said yes as I could do with more interesting chicken recipes. Besides which, it also involves other birds, such as pigeon, pheasant and partridge which I've had minimal experience of cooking.

The book has beautifully styled photos which are drool-worthy. Torode writes well, in a no-nonsense, straight-forward fashion and given that his last book was simply titled 'Beef', he gives the impression that he knows his meat. There's no flowery language here. It's split into chapters including soups, curries, barbeque and roasts, and helpfully it also includes a step by step guide on how to joint a chicken, something I've always been too daunted to try myself. I haven't quite got round to it yet, but it's a good cost saving trick as you'll get more for your money by buying chickens whole. In addition to this, there's an extensive list detailing the different birds, as well as when the game seasons begin and end; a very handy guide. I didn't even know there was an edible bird called Ptarmigan until I read this. There is also a little blurbs dotted here and there, such as detailing how best to carve a roast chicken, and a method to cook duck breasts. I for one didn't know that you should start them off skin side down in a cold pan.

I decided to try out the Chicken Kiev, especially as it's billed as 'the perfect recipe'. My picture is decidedly more... rustic than that of the photo in the book, but it was pretty damn good. Garlicky, lemon-scented butter burst forth from the crisply coated chicken supreme, lubricating the mash that accompanied it. I made a right mess of the kitchen what with the double egg and flour dipping but it made sure that the pocket of buttery goodness was well encased, something that us cooks mortally fear will go wrong and end up as a big puddle in the baking tray. The chicken, having been fried and finished off in the oven, was perfectly cooked and moist throughout.

I've already bookmarked several recipes to try, such as game terrine, devilled chicken livers and pigeon and bacon with sweetcorn fritters. There's also a list of game dealers which is where I'll be going to pick up some grouse, a bird I've heard talked much about and haven't yet had the opportunity to try. This book is perfect for anyone like me, who wants to try cooking new birds.

There is, however, one recipe which I definitely won't be trying - 'spaghetti with curried chicken balls'. It sounds like every kind of wrong... so maybe I should give it a go.

Released 4th September, priced £20

Chocolate-Dipped Ginger Poached Pears

I saw Julie & Julia a couple nights ago and it left me with a myriad of reflections about the food world. First of all, let me be honest: I only heard about Julia Child a handful of years ago. Growing up in Paris, as you can imagine, Julia Child was not a renowned name and her legacy had never made it to my though curious Parisian ears. A couple years after I moved to Montreal, Oliver came back from one of his second-hand book hunts with a grin and a copy of Julia Child's "Mastering the Art of French Cooking". It had cost him 10 dollars, was in mint condition and just asking to be used. I flipped through the pages of this brick of a book (a masterpiece alright!) and recognized all the recipes that make up classic French cuisine. Julia Child's explanations of how to make each dish was the most entertaining and valuable part, and it did make me think that no matter your lack of knowledge on the matter, you could probably whip up a boeuf bourgignon or the perfect onion soup on any given day.

Then, I did what any normal product of the 21 st century would do: I googled. I googled Julia Child's photo, extracts of her cooking show and read up on her biography. I already felt like I knew who she was. Better still was the particular ring of her tone of voice, and the awkward yet charming way she had of carrying herself while showing you how to truss a chicken or make the perfect omelet. I was sold. Since that moment, I've heard her name over and over and over again and can only give her my blessing for what she was able to do for Americans. I don't believe these recipes were anything of a creative breakthrough - these are, after all not Julia Child's recipes, but rather the classic recipes found in most old school restaurants in France - but Julia Child made it possible for the housewife of her time, wherever she might be, to bring a taste of France to her family. Julia Child was, in effect, the one who made it possible for home cooks to buy raw ingredients and turn them into a real show piece at the dinner table.

Seeing Julie & Julia made me think about the essential role of transmission in the food world. Our grandmother's recipe has special importance to us because it was passed down from generation to generation and making it in our kitchen makes that tradition live on. Julia transformed these French recipes into understandable terms and allowed that transmission to occur for Americans. She took her immense love of French food and transferred it to all those who wanted to learn about it like she did.

The movie touched me. To think that someone like Julie Powell felt empowered because of Julia's recipes truly hit a soft spot for me. I think, secretly, when you write a recipe, you're always trying to bring a feeling of empowerment for people who try it. You want them to succeed. The power of food really does go beyond the wonderful taste in your mouth.
Sure, the Julie in the movie did seem rather self-indulgent and sulky, but who am I to talk? Aren't we all a little? I started reading Julie's blog (I had only read excerpts as of now) and maybe I will come back to you with a stronger opinion on the matter after I'm done.

Now.. for today's recipe. Poached Pears. Dipped in Chocolate. Need I say more? That pretty much did it for me!

Chocolate-Dipped Ginger Poached Pears
Recipe (for 4 smalls pears)
4 small pears
1 cup of water
Juice of 1/2 lemon, with 1 lemon zest
2 tablespoons of sugar
1 inch piece of ginger, finely sliced
6 ounces of good quality bittersweet chocolate

In a small saucepan, add the water, ginger, lemon and sugar and bring to a simmer. In the meantime, gently peel the pears (leaving the stem intact). Once the liquid comes to a simmer, add the pears. Turn them often to make sure every side is in contact with the poaching liquid. Poach for 15-20 minutes or until the pears are fork-tender. If the pears start to change color, and a little lemon juice.

Once the pears are ready, remove from the liquid, dry them and place in the fridge (at least one hour). Slowly melt the chocolate in a double boiler, and place the chocolate in a small bowl. Drizzle the melted chocolate on the pears, starting where the stem touches the fruit. Leave to harden and serve. Enjoy!

A Day in Paris

You may have seen all over the blogosphere that quite a few bloggers went on a day trip to Lille, courtesy of Eurostar, arranged by their PR, We Are Social. I was invited, but you can imagine how much my heart sank when I saw that the date they had decided on was the same weekend I had a friend coming to visit. I was pretty gutted.

So a few days later, when they asked me if I wanted to go on my own Little Break to either Paris, Lille or Brussels, I gave a little squeal of excitement and bounced up and down in my chair. I chose Paris, having only been there once before when I was dragged around the place on my art A Level trip. Back then, a gaggle of over-excited 17 year old girls are predisposed to guzzle down 3 Euro bottles of plonk and in the ensuing hangover, I didn't feel as if I really embraced the experience. We did something crazy like 700 galleries in 2 days (yes, I exaggerate; but only a bit) and the over-riding memory is one of exhaustion.

The premise of Little Break, Big Difference is that you can travel to either Paris, Lille or Brussels from £59 return for October. Not only that, but you get a seat in Leisure Select, where they serve you a meal and drinks, including Champagne on the way home. This really takes the chore out of travelling; the check-in and passport control for Eurostar is much quicker than at an airport, and you actually get leg room.

I decided just to go for the day, and that I would do Paris on a budget. Rather, it wasn't so much a decision I made, but one that was forced upon me, considering my folorn bank account. I skidded towards the Eurostar gates with barely a minute to spare, and a friend and I set off on our little break.

Of course, food is always at the forefront of my mind, so I did a little cursory research into cheap bistros to lunch at. I didn't want to plan too much, as it can sometimes take away the adventure aspect of the trip, but with a vague idea in mind we headed off in search of the Eiffel Tower.

It was a speedy ascent up the stairs to begin with, and then as my smoker's lungs started to heave a little, I turned to my friend. Her face was white. "Mate, I think I'm going to vom". I laughed, until I realised she did look a bit peaky. Little did either of us know that her dislike of heights was actually vertigo. We had a long way to go until we reached the first platform. We were rewarded with a pretty good view or two.

We began the much slower ascent to the second level. We had only the thought of getting to the top in our heads now. Her face grew ever more worried and I refrained from telling her that the people down below looked like ants. I myself lost balance and had a good ol' wobble.

Alas, ths is as high as we went. We bought tickets thinking that they'd take us all the way to the top, but when we got to the second stage they tried to charge us again and we balked, favouring to get the lift down to safe ground.

All this clambering up stairs really got our appetites up, and by the time we found Le Repaire de Cartouche, it was 1:30pm, we'd been up for 8 hours, and we were pretty famished. We entered into a dark and busy dining room, with tables packed closely together and squeezed into our seats. We had specifically chosen this bistro because of it's 14 Euro lunch menu. With a choice of 4 starters to choose from and two mains, I went for the 'Salade Escarolle avec Mimmosa' which was just that; leaves well dressed into a fruity olive oil, topped with hard boiled egg pushed through a sieve.

Across the other side of the table, the 'Terrine de Campagne' was a hearty slice and sat atop a salad of herbs. I was jealous, even if I did get to eat half of it, as it was the better of the two. For mains, a pan-fried slice of cod with a caper butter sauce was over-salted, but otherwise a good solid dish. We washed all this down with a bottle of Côteaux d’Aix en Provence rosé which was light and refreshing, and helped take the edge off the embarrassment of being stared at quite openly by our fellow diners. We were taking pictures of the food, after all.

After settling the bill, we emerged into the street, blinking as if we'd just exited the cinema. We waddled towards to Pompidou Centre and had a good look around:

After a cheeky Leffe, we then strolled down the banks of the Seine, to the Louvre.

We didn't much fancy going inside and were rapidly running out of time, and so we decided to jump on the Metro to the Champs-Élysées.

It was high time for another drink and some nibbles and so we attempted to go to Racines, a wine bar recommended by Time Out. It was supposedly hidden down this eerily quiet alley way, but it seems to have closed down as we walked round it twice and couldn't find it.

Somewhat dejected, we decided to plonk ourselves down at a nearby bar for an eye-watering 8 Euro beer. Ouch. By this time our 5am wake-ups were starting to get the better of us. We stared off into space, cigarettes dangling between fingers, barely able to string a sentence together. Food bloggers need regular feeding, otherwise this is what becomes of us.

Not to be beaten, we decided to go back to Le Gare du Nord, to see if we could find anything there. Somewhat apprehensively we asked a nice lady in the pharmacy if she could recommend anywhere to eat; she replied enthusiastically. The little restaurant was empty save two or three tables, but it looked homely. After we ordered our four course menu (the only available), we realised there was no way we could finish it in the 50 minutes it was until our train to take us home. The waiter agreed to let us have just a starter and a main.

The rillettes of rabbit was huge. Accompanied by a basket of bread and a pot or gherkins, I was pretty full when I finished this. The tender meat was generously seasoned, and the acidity of the gherkins cut through the richness well.

We scoffed our starters down, and waited impatiently for the main. The clock ticked by slowly and I wondered if we would be stranded in Paris, having missed the last train home. Our mains arrived shortly after, and this beef dish was delicious; the consommé was delicately spiced with star anise and the pieces of fennel added to the aniseed aroma. The beef was tender and slightly gelatinous. I scoffed it down in 10 minutes flat. We slapped down the very last of our Euros, finished off the dregs of our beers and legged it for our train.


Unfortunately I can't remember the name of the restaurant. If it helps, it's opposite a pharmacy around the corner from a wedding dress shop by Le Gare du Nord.

Thankfully, we made it. We were exhausted, full and more than a little sleepy. It was a long day - I left the house at 6am and got home at 11:30pm - but well worth it. I spent exactly 100 Euros, which was the budget I was hoping for. While sipping on the complimentary Champagne on the way home, we mused over the day's events; we'd crammed a lot in. Perhaps we could have been more organised, since we did do a bit of a zig zag around the city, but we're not really that type of people and our way had suited us fine.

So there you have it - a whirlwind tour of Paris. Whilst I would recommend staying a bit longer if you wanted to actually go into the museums and galleries, we had a brilliant time having a good walk around and taking in the sights. And no, we did not go to Ladurée or Pierre Hermé for macarons. We didn't have cakes or pastries; neither of us have a sweet tooth and it didn't appeal.

For the full Flickr set, including Helen's fear face, click here.

Blue Cheese, Tomato and Steak Sandwich

I don't know about you, but I'm always looking for the perfect lunch. For me, it's always a tight balance between not going overboard (no one wants to fall asleep after too big a lunch) but still finding that perfect satisfying boost of energy for the afternoon to come. As all good Parisians, I have a special soft spot for baguette. You may see it in movies (with the added beret and the red wine bottle) but it doesn't make it any less true. The french need their espresso and their baguette to even begin to think that's it's a decent food day. The only problem with baguettes is that they don't last very long. The best is to eat it the day it was made. You might be able to get a second day out of it, but the first is really the better option. However, the good news is that the bread freezes amazingly well. Cut the baguette into smaller sections, tightly wrap in aluminum foil and freeze. The day you want fresh tasting bread, let the baguette come back to room temperature in the oven and you're good to go.

This sandwich could very well be my new favorite lunch. It's simple, lighter than your regular steak sandwich (no mayo) and absolutely delicious.

Blue Cheese, Tomato and Steak Sandwich
Recipe (for 2)
1/2 baguette
1 clove of garlic
1 medium-sized steak
6 yellow cherry tomatoes
1 small handful of baby arugula
1/4 cup of crumbled blue cheese
2 tablespoon of grainy mustard
Salt and Pepper
Olive Oil

Cut the baguette in half and cut again lengthwise. Drizzle with olive oil and set on the grill for a few minutes, until just crisp. Remove from the heat and rub each side with the peeled garlic clove. Reserve.

Bring the steak to room temperature, pat dry with paper towels and season generously with salt and pepper. Set on a grill on medium high heat. Cook for 3-5 minutes on each side or until the steak is just medium rare. Set to rest to let the juices in the meat redistribute. Once the meat has rested (about 10 minutes), slice the meat on the bias.

Cut the tomatoes into thin slices. Spread the mustard on each sides of the baguette. Add the slices of steak to the bottom side of each piece of bread. Top with the crumbled blue cheese, a few slices of tomato, some arugula and press with the top slice of bread to close. Enjoy!