The Observer Food Monthly recently celebrated the joy of the recipe by compiling a list of favourite and cherished recipes. As editor Nigel Slater observed, recipes "are there to whet our appetite, inspire the regular cook, spread the word of something we want others to know about, to instil confidence in the inexperienced, to remind the reader of a forgotten and much-loved dish, and to preserve the classic dishes in an instantly recognisable form."
Inspired by Nigel, my favourite food writer Jill Dupleix started compiling her own list on her Sydney Morning Herald blog: "I love recipes. I love reading them, cooking from them, and writing them. Every time I cook from a new recipe, I can tell so much about the person who put it together - how much they know, how much they care, whether they are trying to be helpful, or clever." she wrote.
"Some recipes are mystifying in their simplicity, others in their complexity. And I know I am not alone in hating recipes that list as ingredients other recipes, with a note to ‘see page 25’ for something you can’t proceed without making from scratch."
I found it a hugely difficult task to compile my own list. There's many meals I cook that I don't use a recipe for, such as roast chicken (or beef or lamb), spaghetti bolognaise, lasagna, or a basic risotto. Or the dishes made from recipes that my grandmother and mother have handed down to me: beef casserole with parsley dumplings, chocolate pudding, golden syrup dumplings, shortbread, Christmas fruit mince tarts.
Although it was difficult, it was also an interesting task to consider what makes a recipe cross over from the "must try" pile to become part of the treasured repertoire of repeats. Is it that the pairing of the ingredients made my tastebuds swoon? Is it that the elegance of the final product belies the simplicity of the technique?
Jill offered a clue: "The very best recipes are those that leave you with something, that introduce you to a new little tip or technique or ingredient that you can use time and time again."
When I put together my list, it was no surprise that my favourite cooks, Jill Dupleix, Bill Granger and Donna Hay, dominated. I love the simplicity and freshness of their cooking and many of their recipes do instantly enter my repertoire.
Here's my initial list, in alphabetical order. There would be so many more but these are the ones that spring to mind.
Abruzzo lentil soup (Jill Dupleix) - on the menu at least once a week in winter
Beef stroganoff with buttered noodles (Bill Granger) - this replaced by previous favourite by Margaret Fulton - the addition of Dijon mustard gives it an extra flavour boost
Buttermilk pancakes (Stephanie Alexander) - the only recipe to use for Shrove Tuesday (or a special breakfast)
Caramel salmon (Bill Granger) - on the menu at least once a week
Chicken bastilla (adapted from a Jill Dupleix recipe) - great dinner party stand-by, especially served with a Moroccan carrot salad
Corn chowder (Beverley Sutherland Smith) - rich and thick, this is a perfect winter soup
Italian walnut and coffee cake (from Gourmet Traveller) - an excellent cake to serve for afternoon tea or dessert
Garlic beef with spiced couscous (Donna Hay) - a great weeknight meal
Lemon cake (Beverley Sutherland Smith) - I've been making this one since I first discovered it in Epicure about 15 years ago. Light and moist, this has a sugary lemon syrup poured over the top
Lemon cake (Donna Hay magazine, issue 5, published 2002) - when I want a tangy, buttery cake, this is the one I go for, as it's topped off with lemon butter icing
Lemon delicious (Stephanie Alexander) - Adam would eat this every day if he could!
Meatloaf (adapted from a Jill Dupleix recipe) - great comfort food in winter
One-pot chocolate cake (Allan Campion and Michele Curtis) - the latest addition to my repertoire - this recipe was worth the price of the cookbook alone!
Parmesan-crusted chicken (Donna Hay) - perfect weeknight meal
Perfect scrambled eggs (Bill Granger) - no more needs to be said - these are simply the best
Salt and five-spice chicken (Donna Hay) - addictively salty and on the table in 20 minutes
Soy chicken with pickled ginger soba noodles (Delicious magazine, June 2005) - a really light, healthy delicious meal
The ultimate chocolate chip cookie (from a Nestle advertisement) The name is justified, with the addition of a secret ingredient that means no-one can ever stop at just one
Tortellini with tuna and peas (adapted from a Jill Dupleix recipe) - perfect weeknight meal that I've adapted and refined over the years. Can be put together in 12 minutes - the time it takes the tortellini to cook
Showing posts with label recipes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label recipes. Show all posts
Friday, March 27, 2009
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Beautiful berries
I can't believe that it's almost berry time again. This year has flown so quickly. It seems like barely yesterday that I was busy filling up containers with juicy jewels of raspberries, blackberries, youngberries and brambleberries and now it's time to pick again.
Berries are my favourite of fruits. I love them fresh from the vine (one for the container, one for me...), mixed into fresh tarts, desserts and cakes and used to make jam or ice-cream.
Each year my family and I go berry picking. Not only is it cheaper than buying punnets from the markets but it's so much more fun to fill your own containers and we make quite a day of it. The first thing I do when I get home is to make raspberry jam and a fresh raspberry tart and then I divide the berries up into containers to freeze and use throughout the year. This year, I've been quite frugal with the berries, not wanting to run out, so now I'm frantically using up the last batches before they are filled again next weekend.
While deciding what to make, I found a recipe by Stephanie Alexander called "Prue's Blueberry Bake". Despite the name, the recipe says you can substitute raspberries or mulberries instead of blueberries. As I had blackberries, I used them instead and they worked well. The berry bake is a cross between a cake and a slice: you make a basic butter cake and then spread it into a lamington tin, top with berries and walnuts, and bake. Although it tastes like a cake, it looks like a slice. It is extremely easy to make and is perfect for a mid-morning snack or for afternoon tea.
PRUE'S BLUEBERRY BAKE
125g unsalted butter, soft
1 cup sugar
2 eggs
2 cups plain flour
1 teaspoon bicarb soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
200ml sour cream
1 tablespoon lemon juice
250g blueberries, raspberries, mulberries or blackberries
1/2 cup chopped walnuts
Icing
3/4 cup icing sugar
About 2 tablespoons hot water
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
Preheat oven to 175 degrees Celsius. Cream butter and sugar, then add eggs one at a time. Sift flour, bicarb soda and baking powder into a bowl and fold into the butter mixture alternately with the cream and lemon juice until you have a smooth batter.
Pour into a lined lamington tin (30cm x 21cm) and sprinkle over the berries and walnuts (these will sink as the cake bakes). Bake for 50-60 minutes or until golden on top. Cool in the tin.
To make icing, sift the icing sugar into a small bowl. Add hot water and mix with a fork until you have a thick, smooth pourable paste. Mix in the vanilla extract. Drizzle over the cooled cake and allow to set before serving.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Empanadas
I recently discovered a wonderful New Zealand food magazine called Cuisine.<Hausfrau bakery in Yarraville thoughtfully has a stack of food magazines and cookbooks available for customers to browse through as they sip coffee and munch on one of their delicious European-inspired cakes. I picked up Cuisine and was instantly impressed. The photography is wonderful and inspires you to try the wide range of recipes. It is a little simliar to the Australian magazine Delicious, but obviously the food and wine news is centred on New Zealand. Cuisine was recently judged the best food magazine in the world at the Le Cordon Bleu World Food Media Awards, beating other prestigious food magazines such as Gourmet Traveller, Vogue Entertaining & Travel and Donna Hay magazine (all of which I love as well), so I thought it was definitely worthwhile surfing around on Cuisine's website to learn more.
Cuisine has a great website, with an archive of more than 1000 recipes to search, as well as a recipe of the day to try. A recipe for beef and spinach empanadas was recently featured and, with a backyard vegetable garden overflowing with fresh spinach, I decided this would be a good recipe to try. The empanadas were easy to make and extremely delicious. We ate them as a main course with sweet chilli sauce for dunking and a salad on the side, but they would also make excellent nibbles at a party. I'm looking forward to trying more Cuisine recipes soon.
BEEF AND SPINACH EMPANADAS
For the pastry
3 cups white flour
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1/2 cup ice-cold water
For the filling
300g minced beef
1 medium onion, finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1 teaspoon allspice
1 teaspoon grated nutmeg
1 large tomato, chopped
4 tablespoons tomato paste
1/2 cup dry sherry
1 chilli, chopped
1 large bunch spinach, washed, wilted over heat in a saucepan then chopped
salt and freshly ground black pepper
vegetable oil for frying
To make pastry: place the flour and salt in the bowl of a food processor. With the motor running, tip in the oil until it is all incorporated. Add the water slowly and, when the dough starts to come together in beads the size of tiny pearls, switch off the motor and tip the mixture out onto a floured board. Draw the dought together by kneading gently. Wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate until needed. (Note: I found the dough quite dry and needed to add some extra water).
For the filling: heat a large frying pan and cook the mince for about 10 minutes until it is crumbly and lightly browned. Add the onion, garlic and spices and cook a little longer until the onion softens. Add the remaining ingredients, except the spinach, and cook over a high heat until the juices start to evaporate. Stir in the spinach and adjust the seasoning. Allow to cool.
To assemble the empanadas, roll out the pastry to about 3mm thick. Using a 10cm-diameter pastry cutter, cut out 15-20 circles. Place about one heaped tablespoon of the filling in the centre of each dough round and fold over to form a half-moon shape. Seal the edges with a little water and crimp together. Heat oil to a depty of about 2.5cm in a frying pan until it is quite hot but not smoking. Fry the empanads until golden brown on each side, about 3-5 minutes. Drain and serve.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
A savoury dish
My friend Alison recently commented that my blog seems full of sweet recipes. I do love a good cake, biscuit or pudding, but I'm equally keen on savoury dishes, so why am I not inspired to write about them as much as about sweet dishes? I'm not alone in this. As I've written before, my grandmother's cookbook is full of recipes for cakes, slices and desserts. Yet sweets would have been much more of a treat in her day than a regular occurrence, so it seems surprising that she would have so many sweet recipes in her cookbook.
It got me thinking about the nature of baking, as opposed to cooking. My theory is that, in general, baking is much more precise than cooking, and therefore more detailed recipes are needed. For example, for pesto I throw together a big bunch of basil and add garlic, olive oil, pinenuts and parmesan to taste. The idea of precisely measuring these ingredients seems ridiculous. Yet, by the same token, I would never make a cake by throwing together estimated ratios of flour, butter and sugar. Even as fine a chef as Stephanie Alexander agrees: "My [recipe] boxes labelled vegetables, meat and poultry, and fish are not nearly as full [as the sweet recipe boxes]. Is it because baking really does need more precision? I can always put together a savoury dish without instruction but would never dare start a cake without a formula." (Epicure, The Age, 15 May 2007).
Although I cook a lot of savoury dishes, they seem to easy or ordinary to write about. When I was a child, we had a roast for lunch every Sunday (my favourite is roast beef with Yorkshire pudding) and I've continued this tradition (although we have it for dinner, rather than lunch). But I've never thought about writing about it because it doesn't seem exotic enough and also because there's no set recipe to share.
But in the interests of balance, I've decided to feature a savoury dish. My backyard vegetable garden is full of spinach, which I love, so spanakopita seemed like a great dish to use up plenty of spinach. This version comes from The Cook's Companion by Stephanie Alexander.
SPANAKOPITA
1 onion, finely chopped
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 spring onions, very finely chopped
1 large bunch spinach, steamed, washed, dried and finely chopped
2 tablespoons freshly chopped mint
2 tablespoons freshly chopped parsley
finely grated nutmeg
2 eggs
125g fetta, crumbled
125g ricotta
60g grated parmesan
black pepper
120g melted butter
10 sheets filo pastry
Preheat the oven to 180 degrees. Saute the onion in the oil until softened. Add spring onion, spinach, herbs and nutmeg and cook, stirring, until spinach is very soft and there is no liquid in the pan. Tip into a colander resting over a plate and allow to cool. Beat eggs in large bowl, add cheeses and cooled spinach mixture and season to taste with pepper.
Choose a rectangular metal baking dish (28cm x 18cm x 8cm - I used a slice tray). It should be a bit smaller than half a sheet of filo. Brush the dish with a little melted butter. Cut the filo sheets in half. Brush each sheet with melted butter and settled 10 sheets in the dish, pressing up the sides. Spoon in spinach mix. Settle a further 10 buttered sheets over the top and tuck in any overlap down the sides. Score the top of the pie but do not cut through to the bottom. Bake for about 40 minutes, until golden brown. Serve warm or cold.
It got me thinking about the nature of baking, as opposed to cooking. My theory is that, in general, baking is much more precise than cooking, and therefore more detailed recipes are needed. For example, for pesto I throw together a big bunch of basil and add garlic, olive oil, pinenuts and parmesan to taste. The idea of precisely measuring these ingredients seems ridiculous. Yet, by the same token, I would never make a cake by throwing together estimated ratios of flour, butter and sugar. Even as fine a chef as Stephanie Alexander agrees: "My [recipe] boxes labelled vegetables, meat and poultry, and fish are not nearly as full [as the sweet recipe boxes]. Is it because baking really does need more precision? I can always put together a savoury dish without instruction but would never dare start a cake without a formula." (Epicure, The Age, 15 May 2007).
Although I cook a lot of savoury dishes, they seem to easy or ordinary to write about. When I was a child, we had a roast for lunch every Sunday (my favourite is roast beef with Yorkshire pudding) and I've continued this tradition (although we have it for dinner, rather than lunch). But I've never thought about writing about it because it doesn't seem exotic enough and also because there's no set recipe to share.
But in the interests of balance, I've decided to feature a savoury dish. My backyard vegetable garden is full of spinach, which I love, so spanakopita seemed like a great dish to use up plenty of spinach. This version comes from The Cook's Companion by Stephanie Alexander.
SPANAKOPITA
1 onion, finely chopped
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 spring onions, very finely chopped
1 large bunch spinach, steamed, washed, dried and finely chopped
2 tablespoons freshly chopped mint
2 tablespoons freshly chopped parsley
finely grated nutmeg
2 eggs
125g fetta, crumbled
125g ricotta
60g grated parmesan
black pepper
120g melted butter
10 sheets filo pastry
Preheat the oven to 180 degrees. Saute the onion in the oil until softened. Add spring onion, spinach, herbs and nutmeg and cook, stirring, until spinach is very soft and there is no liquid in the pan. Tip into a colander resting over a plate and allow to cool. Beat eggs in large bowl, add cheeses and cooled spinach mixture and season to taste with pepper.
Choose a rectangular metal baking dish (28cm x 18cm x 8cm - I used a slice tray). It should be a bit smaller than half a sheet of filo. Brush the dish with a little melted butter. Cut the filo sheets in half. Brush each sheet with melted butter and settled 10 sheets in the dish, pressing up the sides. Spoon in spinach mix. Settle a further 10 buttered sheets over the top and tuck in any overlap down the sides. Score the top of the pie but do not cut through to the bottom. Bake for about 40 minutes, until golden brown. Serve warm or cold.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Celebrating chocolate week
According to English newspaper The Guardian, October 15-21 is Chocolate Week. What a great thing to celebrate! Chocolate recipes are by far my favourite and, out of the thousands of recipes I've collected over the years, the chocolate file is the largest. No matter how many chocolate cake or biscuit recipes I have, I can never resist collecting a new one. They essentially all use the same ingredients but there's always a new twist that entices me to try it - perhaps some coffee granules added to a choc-chip biscuit recipe, or a white chocolate fondant centre in gooey chocolate puddings.
What else is there to say about chocolate that hasn't been written before? We all know its wonderful properties and how a piece of moist chocolate cake can fix almost anything in the world. Whether you choose to whip up a basic cake on a whim, a more grand affair that requires a long list of ingredients and concentration in the kitchen, or some choc-chip biscuits to share with friends, there's always a chocolate recipe available to satisfy.
I've noticed recently that most chocolate recipes call for the "best quality chocolate you can afford", usually meaning expensive Vahlrona or Callebaut chocolate. I have no doubt that in some recipes you may notice the difference if cheap chocolate is used but I also think that this is another example of food snobbery, something that seems to be creeping in more and more to modern recipes. There's been quite a few occasions when I've gone to the trouble and effort of sourcing difficult and expensive ingredients only to end up disappointed with the final result. The recipe works, the end result is fine and yet there's a feeling of flatness, that the end did not justify the means. But that's another article all together!
I'm a sucker for any food recipe that has a chocolate picture on the front cover. It doesn't matter if I've already got 10 versions of the recipe; I have to add this one as well. Clearly I'm not the only one who feels this way, judging by how often chocolate will appear on a front cover.
Chocolate is indulgent and chocolate is fun. You can get a mini-hit through a choc-chip biscuit or a major overdose through a decadent dessert. It's not something to scoff but to savour. A French chocolatier once told me that you should eat a little bit of chocolate every day and that you should make it the best piece of chocolate you can afford (there's that phrase again!) so that you can savour it and then feel satisfied. My preference is for dark chocolate and I find that I am satisfied after a couple of small squares, whereas a chocolate bar leaves me feeling like I've had too much.
In Melbourne, we are spoiled for choice with our chocolate shops: Koko Black in Royal Arcade, Haighs Chocolate shops around the city, Cacao in Fitzroy St, St Kilda, Fraus in Victoria St, North Melbourne for wickedly rich hot chocolate, and chocolate afternoon teas at the Sofitel are just some of the treats on offer.
To celebrate Chocolate Week, here's a recipe for Choc-Nut Biscuits that I made up. It's an easy and fast recipe and will satisfy any mid-afternoon craving for chocolate.
CHOC-NUT BISCUITS
125 g butter
125g white sugar
125g brown sugar
250g self-raising flour
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
150g chocolate chips
100g chopped nuts (your choice - I find walnuts or blanched almonds are good)
Preheat the oven to 180 degrees. Line two baking trays with non-stick baking paper.
Cream the butter and sugar until pale and creamy. Add the eggs and vanilla, then stir in the sifted flour. Add the choc chips and the nuts, mixing well.
Put spoonfuls of the mixture onto the baking trays (it may be quite sticky, so shape as best you can), and allow plenty of room for spreading. Bake for about 10 minutes or until golden. Cool on the tray for about five minutes before transferring to a wire rack to cool.
What else is there to say about chocolate that hasn't been written before? We all know its wonderful properties and how a piece of moist chocolate cake can fix almost anything in the world. Whether you choose to whip up a basic cake on a whim, a more grand affair that requires a long list of ingredients and concentration in the kitchen, or some choc-chip biscuits to share with friends, there's always a chocolate recipe available to satisfy.
I've noticed recently that most chocolate recipes call for the "best quality chocolate you can afford", usually meaning expensive Vahlrona or Callebaut chocolate. I have no doubt that in some recipes you may notice the difference if cheap chocolate is used but I also think that this is another example of food snobbery, something that seems to be creeping in more and more to modern recipes. There's been quite a few occasions when I've gone to the trouble and effort of sourcing difficult and expensive ingredients only to end up disappointed with the final result. The recipe works, the end result is fine and yet there's a feeling of flatness, that the end did not justify the means. But that's another article all together!
I'm a sucker for any food recipe that has a chocolate picture on the front cover. It doesn't matter if I've already got 10 versions of the recipe; I have to add this one as well. Clearly I'm not the only one who feels this way, judging by how often chocolate will appear on a front cover.
Chocolate is indulgent and chocolate is fun. You can get a mini-hit through a choc-chip biscuit or a major overdose through a decadent dessert. It's not something to scoff but to savour. A French chocolatier once told me that you should eat a little bit of chocolate every day and that you should make it the best piece of chocolate you can afford (there's that phrase again!) so that you can savour it and then feel satisfied. My preference is for dark chocolate and I find that I am satisfied after a couple of small squares, whereas a chocolate bar leaves me feeling like I've had too much.
In Melbourne, we are spoiled for choice with our chocolate shops: Koko Black in Royal Arcade, Haighs Chocolate shops around the city, Cacao in Fitzroy St, St Kilda, Fraus in Victoria St, North Melbourne for wickedly rich hot chocolate, and chocolate afternoon teas at the Sofitel are just some of the treats on offer.
To celebrate Chocolate Week, here's a recipe for Choc-Nut Biscuits that I made up. It's an easy and fast recipe and will satisfy any mid-afternoon craving for chocolate.
CHOC-NUT BISCUITS
125 g butter
125g white sugar
125g brown sugar
250g self-raising flour
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
150g chocolate chips
100g chopped nuts (your choice - I find walnuts or blanched almonds are good)
Preheat the oven to 180 degrees. Line two baking trays with non-stick baking paper.
Cream the butter and sugar until pale and creamy. Add the eggs and vanilla, then stir in the sifted flour. Add the choc chips and the nuts, mixing well.
Put spoonfuls of the mixture onto the baking trays (it may be quite sticky, so shape as best you can), and allow plenty of room for spreading. Bake for about 10 minutes or until golden. Cool on the tray for about five minutes before transferring to a wire rack to cool.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
The great lamington debate
A plate of lamingtons at a work morning tea has been the catalyst for a great debate among my colleagues: should lamingtons have jam in the middle or not? My answer is an unequivocal no!
First, some background. A proper, home-made lamington is a true delight: a cube of light, airy butter or sponge cake, dipped in chocolate icing and rolled in desiccated coconut. Lamingtons are one of my favourite cakes and there is nothing more delightful for morning tea when made properly. Get it wrong, though - the cake is too dry and crumbly, or the icing is not the right consistency - and there's nothing worse.
There's no clear indication of when or how lamingtons were first baked, with many weird and wonderful anecdotes on the internet. Some stories say that a cook improvised when discovering that the sponge cake to be served up for afternoon tea had gone stale and the chocolate icing and coconut was used to disguise this and make it more palatable. It is thought that the cakes were named after Charles Cochrane-Baillie, 2nd Baron Lamington, who served as Governor of Queensland from 1896 to 1901.
However they came into being, lamingtons have become a recognisably Australian cake - indeed, in 2006 the National Trust of Queensland named the lamington as one of Queensland's 12 favourite icons. When I was growing up, lamington drives were very popular as fund-raisers for schools and the football and netball clubs. I think this is where some people developed a preference for jam-filled lamingtons, as these lamingtons were flatter and drier than home-made ones and the strawberry jam helped to moisten and flavour the cakes.
The classic Australian cookbooks all agree that lamingtons do not have jam or whipped cream in the middle. The Presbyterian Women's Missionary Union (PMWU) cookbook (first published in 1904), Cookery: the Australian Way (the standard home economics textbook for secondary school students, first published in 1966) and Stephanie Alexander's The Cook's Companion all feature similar recipes for butter cake and chocolate icing, although Stephanie prefers a Genoese sponge cake to butter cake.
It is easy to get lamingtons wrong. The cubes should not be too big, nor too small (too many bakeries sell gigantic lamingtons that are disappointingly dry and tasteless). The cake should be moist and not dry or crumbly. The cubes are much easier to cut and ice if you make the cake the day before and leave it in the fridge overnight. I like the contrast of the butter cake with sweet chocolate icing and the coconut. To me, a filling of jam or whipped cream makes the cake too sweet and detracts from the lamington's pure simplicity. Those who prefer otherwise say that the jam adds a sweetness and texture to what is an otherwise bland cake.
Let me know what you think - jam or no jam?
First, some background. A proper, home-made lamington is a true delight: a cube of light, airy butter or sponge cake, dipped in chocolate icing and rolled in desiccated coconut. Lamingtons are one of my favourite cakes and there is nothing more delightful for morning tea when made properly. Get it wrong, though - the cake is too dry and crumbly, or the icing is not the right consistency - and there's nothing worse.
There's no clear indication of when or how lamingtons were first baked, with many weird and wonderful anecdotes on the internet. Some stories say that a cook improvised when discovering that the sponge cake to be served up for afternoon tea had gone stale and the chocolate icing and coconut was used to disguise this and make it more palatable. It is thought that the cakes were named after Charles Cochrane-Baillie, 2nd Baron Lamington, who served as Governor of Queensland from 1896 to 1901.
However they came into being, lamingtons have become a recognisably Australian cake - indeed, in 2006 the National Trust of Queensland named the lamington as one of Queensland's 12 favourite icons. When I was growing up, lamington drives were very popular as fund-raisers for schools and the football and netball clubs. I think this is where some people developed a preference for jam-filled lamingtons, as these lamingtons were flatter and drier than home-made ones and the strawberry jam helped to moisten and flavour the cakes.
The classic Australian cookbooks all agree that lamingtons do not have jam or whipped cream in the middle. The Presbyterian Women's Missionary Union (PMWU) cookbook (first published in 1904), Cookery: the Australian Way (the standard home economics textbook for secondary school students, first published in 1966) and Stephanie Alexander's The Cook's Companion all feature similar recipes for butter cake and chocolate icing, although Stephanie prefers a Genoese sponge cake to butter cake.
It is easy to get lamingtons wrong. The cubes should not be too big, nor too small (too many bakeries sell gigantic lamingtons that are disappointingly dry and tasteless). The cake should be moist and not dry or crumbly. The cubes are much easier to cut and ice if you make the cake the day before and leave it in the fridge overnight. I like the contrast of the butter cake with sweet chocolate icing and the coconut. To me, a filling of jam or whipped cream makes the cake too sweet and detracts from the lamington's pure simplicity. Those who prefer otherwise say that the jam adds a sweetness and texture to what is an otherwise bland cake.
Let me know what you think - jam or no jam?
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Addictive small bites
Several years ago, Adam and I house-sat for our friends Kerry and Matt while they were overseas. Apart from leaving me an impressively stocked pantry and cupboards bursting with cookware, Kerry also left out a large pile of Delicious magazines (my first taste of my new favourite cooking magazine) and a pile of books. Among the pile, I found a book called On Rue Tatin by Susan Herrmann Loomis. Although I had a pile of my own books to read, I quickly became immersed in the world of Susan, an American who spent a year as a chef in Paris and then returned several years later with her husband to buy a 300-year-old house in Louviers, Normandy.
Susan is an excellent writer and her tale of life in France was beautifully told, interspersed with delicious recipes that reflected the best of Normandy produce and the love that the French have for good food. Her second book, Tarte Tatin, continues the story of her life in Louviers and the cooking school that Susan has opened, where visitors stay for a week of cooking classes and meet with local producers and artisans. I highly recommend either of these books, although be warned that it may induce feelings of envy! Susan also has an excellent website: http://www.onruetatin.com/
In her book, Susan featured a recipe for les scourtins des vieux moulins (olive cookies from vieux moulins), a very old recipe from a family who produced olive oil at Les Vieux Moulins, an ancient olive mill in Provence. The recipe is an intriguing mix of sweet (icing sugar) and salty (olives) and I've been longing to try it since I first read it. Of course, like many of my clippings, it got put aside until recently when I decided to whip up a batch for morning tea. I'm sorry I waited so long now! These biscuits are totally addictive and, if it wasn't for the fact that I was making these for others, I would have devoured the whole lot on the spot! Enjoy.
OLIVE COOKIES FROM VIEUX MOULINS
125g unsalted butter, softened
3/4 cup (110g) pure icing sugar, sifted
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
1 1/3 cups (200g) plain flour
1/2 cup (100g) cured olives, such as kalamata or nicoise, pitted and coarsely chopped
Preheat the oven to 180 degrees. Line two baking trays with non-stick baking paper.
Cream the butter until soft and pale yellow. Mix in the icing sugar until blended, then drizzle in the olive oil until combined. Add the flour and a pinch of fine sea salt, then mix gently but thoroughly until the dough is smooth. Add the olives and mix until they are thoroughly incorporated into the dough.
Place a piece of baking paper on the bench and put the dough in the middle. Cover with another piece of baking paper and roll out the dough until it is about 0.5cm thick (the dough is very sticky and the paper will make it possible to roll out). Refrigerate the dough for at least 30 minutes, and up to 24 hours.
Cut out 5cm rounds of dough and put them about 1.5cm apart on the prepared baking trays. Bake until golden (about 15 minutes), then cool on wire racks. Gather the leftover dough trimmings into a ball and roll out into a 2.5cm diameter log. Wrap well in plastic wrap and refrigerate until you're ready to bake. Then cut off 0.5cm-thick rounds from the log (this avoids over-rolling the dough) and bake.
Susan is an excellent writer and her tale of life in France was beautifully told, interspersed with delicious recipes that reflected the best of Normandy produce and the love that the French have for good food. Her second book, Tarte Tatin, continues the story of her life in Louviers and the cooking school that Susan has opened, where visitors stay for a week of cooking classes and meet with local producers and artisans. I highly recommend either of these books, although be warned that it may induce feelings of envy! Susan also has an excellent website: http://www.onruetatin.com/
In her book, Susan featured a recipe for les scourtins des vieux moulins (olive cookies from vieux moulins), a very old recipe from a family who produced olive oil at Les Vieux Moulins, an ancient olive mill in Provence. The recipe is an intriguing mix of sweet (icing sugar) and salty (olives) and I've been longing to try it since I first read it. Of course, like many of my clippings, it got put aside until recently when I decided to whip up a batch for morning tea. I'm sorry I waited so long now! These biscuits are totally addictive and, if it wasn't for the fact that I was making these for others, I would have devoured the whole lot on the spot! Enjoy.
OLIVE COOKIES FROM VIEUX MOULINS
125g unsalted butter, softened
3/4 cup (110g) pure icing sugar, sifted
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
1 1/3 cups (200g) plain flour
1/2 cup (100g) cured olives, such as kalamata or nicoise, pitted and coarsely chopped
Preheat the oven to 180 degrees. Line two baking trays with non-stick baking paper.
Cream the butter until soft and pale yellow. Mix in the icing sugar until blended, then drizzle in the olive oil until combined. Add the flour and a pinch of fine sea salt, then mix gently but thoroughly until the dough is smooth. Add the olives and mix until they are thoroughly incorporated into the dough.
Place a piece of baking paper on the bench and put the dough in the middle. Cover with another piece of baking paper and roll out the dough until it is about 0.5cm thick (the dough is very sticky and the paper will make it possible to roll out). Refrigerate the dough for at least 30 minutes, and up to 24 hours.
Cut out 5cm rounds of dough and put them about 1.5cm apart on the prepared baking trays. Bake until golden (about 15 minutes), then cool on wire racks. Gather the leftover dough trimmings into a ball and roll out into a 2.5cm diameter log. Wrap well in plastic wrap and refrigerate until you're ready to bake. Then cut off 0.5cm-thick rounds from the log (this avoids over-rolling the dough) and bake.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Orange cake
I recently wrote about the treasure of lemons and their versatility. Give me a bag of lemons and dozens of recipes flow through my mind. Give me a bag of oranges and my repertoire is more limited. I don't know why this is. I'm a big fan of oranges but I've just never cooked much with them.
Although my orange recipes are limited, the few I do have are pretty special. I have a recipe for "The Amazing Orange Cake", a recipe by Margie Agostini of Caffe Agostini in Sydney that she gave to my all-time favourite cook Jill Dupleix to generously share with her readers. It more than lives up to its name - it's the most rich, moist, buttery cake I've ever eaten and seconds is not enough. I think this is the best cake I've ever eaten (and that's a big call from someone whose first preference is for chocolate or lemon cake). But there's a certain freshness and lightness to an orange cake that is different from the tang of a lemon cake or the dense sweetness of a chocolate cake.
The Amazing Orange Cake is an "occasion cake", one to make to impress guests. It's also huge, using half a kilogram each of flour, butter and sugar, and takes more than an hour to bake. So for times when I feel like an easy cake, I make my mum's simple orange cake. She made this cake all the time when we were kids and I can see why. It's a simple cake, using the bare minimum of ingredients that are always in the pantry. It takes a few minutes to mix up and just half an hour in the oven.
Having recently received a bag or enormous juicy oranges as a gift, I quickly whipped this up and it was gone within the day, which is always a good recommendation!
SIMPLE ORANGE CAKE
125g butter
180g sugar
250g self-raising flour
2 eggs
juice and rind of 1 orange with enough milk to make 1/2 cup liquid
Cream butter and sugar, add well-beaten eggs, then add flour and lastly liquid of juice and milk and finely grated rind. Bake in a moderate oven (180 degrees) in an orange-cake tin (I used a loaf tin) for 35-40 minutes.
For icing, melt 1-2 teaspoons of butter, then sift in 2/3 cup of icing sugar and mix with orange juice (and some fine zest if you like) to make a soft icing.
Although my orange recipes are limited, the few I do have are pretty special. I have a recipe for "The Amazing Orange Cake", a recipe by Margie Agostini of Caffe Agostini in Sydney that she gave to my all-time favourite cook Jill Dupleix to generously share with her readers. It more than lives up to its name - it's the most rich, moist, buttery cake I've ever eaten and seconds is not enough. I think this is the best cake I've ever eaten (and that's a big call from someone whose first preference is for chocolate or lemon cake). But there's a certain freshness and lightness to an orange cake that is different from the tang of a lemon cake or the dense sweetness of a chocolate cake.
The Amazing Orange Cake is an "occasion cake", one to make to impress guests. It's also huge, using half a kilogram each of flour, butter and sugar, and takes more than an hour to bake. So for times when I feel like an easy cake, I make my mum's simple orange cake. She made this cake all the time when we were kids and I can see why. It's a simple cake, using the bare minimum of ingredients that are always in the pantry. It takes a few minutes to mix up and just half an hour in the oven.
Having recently received a bag or enormous juicy oranges as a gift, I quickly whipped this up and it was gone within the day, which is always a good recommendation!
SIMPLE ORANGE CAKE
125g butter
180g sugar
250g self-raising flour
2 eggs
juice and rind of 1 orange with enough milk to make 1/2 cup liquid
Cream butter and sugar, add well-beaten eggs, then add flour and lastly liquid of juice and milk and finely grated rind. Bake in a moderate oven (180 degrees) in an orange-cake tin (I used a loaf tin) for 35-40 minutes.
For icing, melt 1-2 teaspoons of butter, then sift in 2/3 cup of icing sugar and mix with orange juice (and some fine zest if you like) to make a soft icing.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Friday morning tea - crunchy amber cake
I recently wrote about the treasured recipes in my grandmother's cookbook and mentioned in passing that a 'crunchy amber cake' won the 1965 Butter/White Wings bake-off. I then received an email from Sally, who had eaten Crunchy Amber Cake many years ago and was keen for the recipe so she could make it again.
I must admit that when I initially looked at the recipe, I was dismissive of it. But, in the interests of research, I thought I should try the recipe before I posted it for Sally, so at least I would have an idea of what the cake was like.
Well, I'm glad I tried it! My initial scepticism was misplaced. Although there are several steps involved in making this cake, it's surprisingly easy to make and looks quite impressive. A butter sponge is sandwiched together with a caramel custard and topped with a meringue topping that is browned in the oven. The finished product looks quite impressive (sadly I don't have a photo to show, as the hungry hordes descended on the cake the moment it came out of the oven and demolished it before I could get the camera) and would make a nice dessert cake. It's quite sweet, so small slices suffice. However, because of the meringue topping, it's best eaten on the day it's made.
CRUNCHY AMBER CAKE
As supplied by Mrs B. D. Calvert of Tasmania - the winner of the Butter/White Wings 1965 bake-off competition.
Cake mixture
125g butter
1 cup brown sugar
1 whole egg, plus one egg yolk
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 1/2 cups self-raising flour
1/2 cup milk
Cream butter and sugar until fluffy. Add eggs and vanilla; beat lightly. Fold in flour alternately with milk, mix well. Divide mixture into two 7-inch layer tins [note - I used one 8-inch round cake tin and just sliced the cake in half]. Bake in a moderate oven (180 degrees) for 20 minutes [if you bake in one tin, the cake will take 30-40 minutes to cook]. Remove from tins and cool.
Filling
90g butter
4 level tablespoons brown sugar
2 level tablespoons cornflour
pinch of salt
1 egg yolk
1 cup milk
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
Melt butter. Add sugar and stir to dissolve. Remove from heat. Add cornflour and salt and stir until smooth. Return to heat and cook gently, stirring all the time. Beat together the egg yolk, milk and vanilla. Add slowly to mixture and stir well. Bring to the boil and cook for two minutes. Cool. (The mixture should thicken as it cools, so you may need to put it in the fridge to thicken it up. You want it to be spreadable but not runny).
Topping
2 egg whites
1/2 cup white sugar
1 tablespoon coconut
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 tablespoon slivered almonds
Beat egg whites stiffly; add sugar slowly. Beat until smooth. Combine coconut, sugar, cinnamon and almonds in a separate bowl. Spread the filling between the cakes. Spread the egg-white mixture over cakes, then sprinkle the sugar and spice mix over this. Heat the oven to 200 degrees and turn off. Place the completed cake in the oven for five minutes to set the topping.
I must admit that when I initially looked at the recipe, I was dismissive of it. But, in the interests of research, I thought I should try the recipe before I posted it for Sally, so at least I would have an idea of what the cake was like.
Well, I'm glad I tried it! My initial scepticism was misplaced. Although there are several steps involved in making this cake, it's surprisingly easy to make and looks quite impressive. A butter sponge is sandwiched together with a caramel custard and topped with a meringue topping that is browned in the oven. The finished product looks quite impressive (sadly I don't have a photo to show, as the hungry hordes descended on the cake the moment it came out of the oven and demolished it before I could get the camera) and would make a nice dessert cake. It's quite sweet, so small slices suffice. However, because of the meringue topping, it's best eaten on the day it's made.
CRUNCHY AMBER CAKE
As supplied by Mrs B. D. Calvert of Tasmania - the winner of the Butter/White Wings 1965 bake-off competition.
Cake mixture
125g butter
1 cup brown sugar
1 whole egg, plus one egg yolk
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 1/2 cups self-raising flour
1/2 cup milk
Cream butter and sugar until fluffy. Add eggs and vanilla; beat lightly. Fold in flour alternately with milk, mix well. Divide mixture into two 7-inch layer tins [note - I used one 8-inch round cake tin and just sliced the cake in half]. Bake in a moderate oven (180 degrees) for 20 minutes [if you bake in one tin, the cake will take 30-40 minutes to cook]. Remove from tins and cool.
Filling
90g butter
4 level tablespoons brown sugar
2 level tablespoons cornflour
pinch of salt
1 egg yolk
1 cup milk
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
Melt butter. Add sugar and stir to dissolve. Remove from heat. Add cornflour and salt and stir until smooth. Return to heat and cook gently, stirring all the time. Beat together the egg yolk, milk and vanilla. Add slowly to mixture and stir well. Bring to the boil and cook for two minutes. Cool. (The mixture should thicken as it cools, so you may need to put it in the fridge to thicken it up. You want it to be spreadable but not runny).
Topping
2 egg whites
1/2 cup white sugar
1 tablespoon coconut
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 tablespoon slivered almonds
Beat egg whites stiffly; add sugar slowly. Beat until smooth. Combine coconut, sugar, cinnamon and almonds in a separate bowl. Spread the filling between the cakes. Spread the egg-white mixture over cakes, then sprinkle the sugar and spice mix over this. Heat the oven to 200 degrees and turn off. Place the completed cake in the oven for five minutes to set the topping.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Hay Hay, It's Donna Day #14 - gnocchi
Donna Hay has been a cooking inspiration to me for many years, since I first started reading her in marie claire magazine. I bought all her cookbooks, collected her recipes in The Age's Epicure section and the Sunday Herald Sun magazine, and eagerly awaited the first copy of her magazine when it was launched in January 2002. So quickly did I subscribe to her magazine that I received an Alessi cheese grater for being one of the first 100 people to subscribe. Since then I've never missed an issue and I love Donna's simple, stylish approach to cooking.
So when I discovered the Hay Hay, It's Donna Day blog event, I knew I would have to take part. It's taken me a while to organise myself but here, finally, is my first entry. Thanks to Lynn at Cafe Lynnlu for hosting this event, and to Barbara at winosandfoodies for creating the event.
Lynn was the winner of HHDD#13 and her challenge for this event was gnocchi. Her rules were that it should be homemade; could be a main, salad, side or dessert; and the recipe could use any ingredient, such as cheese, potato or any other vegetable or fruit.
I love gnocchi but it's a dish I tend to eat out rather than at home. The few times I've bought supermarket gnocchi, I've been disappointed - it's been rubbery or chewy or tasteless. I've long planned to try my hand at my own gnocchi, so this event was a great way to turn the plan into reality. I found this recipe for green olive gnocchi in my bulging recipe files. I don't know where I got it from (probably a chef's recipe published in Epicure) but I've had it marked 'to try' for ages.
I don't own a potato ricer or food mill, which the recipe says is the best way to spread the potato evenly over the flour, so I mashed the potatoes and spread them over as evenly as I could with a spoon. It seemed to work OK, as the gnocchi cooked into plump, silky little pillows that soaked up the creamy, olive sauce.
The recipe might look long but it's quite easy. In fact, I found making gnocchi to be an easy and fun process. It just took quite a bit of time but the end result is well worth it. I'll definitely be on the lookout for more gnocchi recipes in the future and look forward to getting inspiration from the other entries in HHDD#14.
GREEN OLIVE GNOCCHI WITH GREEN OLIVE SAUCE
Sauce
1 large onion, peeled
3 garlic cloves, peeled
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
175ml reduced chicken stock
100ml cream
100g green olives
2 tablespoons parsley
Gnocchi
unsalted butter
200g unbleached plain flour
100g green olives
500g waxy potatoes
sea salt and black pepper
To make the sauce, finely chop the onion and garlic and sweat in the olive oil till softened. Add the cream and the stock and cook gently until reduced to your preferred thickness. Set aside. Slice the flesh away from each olive in four pieces; discard the stones. Set aside.
To make the gnocchi, preheat the oven to 100 degrees and butter a serving dish. Spread flour into a rectangle on bench. Slice the flesh away from each olive in four pieces; discard the stones. (Note: I sliced the olive pieces in half, as they seemed too big for the gnocchi). Peel the potatoes and steam until cooked through. While still hot, pass through a potato ricer or food mill so that the potato falls evenly over the flour. (Note: I mashed the potatoes and spread in a layer over the flour with a spoon). Sprinkle sea salt and the sliced olives over the potato.
Melt 50g butter and drizzle evenly over the potato. Work flour into potato little by little, using a pastry scraper, until you have a firm dough. Knead dough gently for five minutes. Divide into quarters and roll each piece to make a long, thin sausage, about 1cm in diameter. Cut each sausage into 2.5cm lengths.
Put the serving dish in the oven to warm through. Gently warm the sauce and add the olives. Bring water to boil in a large saucepan and add salt. Slip in the gnocchi and cook for one minute after they've risen to the surface. Skim out, put into the warm serving dish and season. Stir the parsley into the sauce, toss with the gnocchi, grind over pepper and serve immediately.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
An apple a day...
Melbourne has given us some chilly mornings this week, just to remind us that it's still winter. Despite the single-digit early morning temperatures, the days are getting longer and all the fashion stores are unveiling their spring/summer ranges. It's a reminder that warmer weather is almost here and my cooking focus will soon shift from hearty stews and comforting puddings to lighter meals.
I'm looking forward to the warmer days but I feel like I haven't made as many winter dishes as I'd planned. The next few weeks will no doubt see a flurry of baking to fulfil my cravings before the temperature rises.
Good old apple pie with sweet pastry and a dollop of thick cream is always a favourite. For a faster and different version, I decided to try a recipe for bourdelot, or Normandy apple pies, by Jill Dupleix. According to Jill, these apples pies are rarely seen outside of the Normandy region in France. A cored whole apple is stuffed with jam, wrapped in a blanket of puff pastry and baked, with the apple steaming to tenderness in the same time that the pastry cooks to a golden crisp. It is a simple but delicious dessert. Next time I might sprinkle in some sultanas or chopped nuts for extra interest.
NORMANDY APPLE PIES
500g puff pastry (or use sheets of ready-rolled puff pastry)
1 apple for each person
lemon juice
good jam or marmalade
butter
egg glaze (1 egg beaten with 1 tablespoon milk)
caster sugar
Preheat the oven to 190 degrees. Peel and core the apples and sprinkle with lemon juice to prevent them from browning. Roll out the pastry and cut into 15x15cm squares (or cut a sheet of ready-rolled pastry into half).
Place an apple in the centre of each pastry square. Stuff the cavity with jam and put a dob of butter on the top. Dip your finger into water and run along the edges of the pastry. Bring the four corners up to the top and pinch the edges firmly. Cut off any protruding corners and pinch the seams together to follow the shape of the apple.
Refrigerate for 15-30 minutes. Brush the apples with egg glaze (or just with milk, if you don't want to mix up an egg glaze), sprinkle with caster sugar and bake for 30 minutes (or until golden).
Crack open the pastry and top with thick cream, creme fraiche or a scoop of vanilla ice-cream.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Luscious lemons
Lemons are one of my favourite fruits. Although we have our own lemon tree growing in the backyard, I love receiving bags of juicy, golden lemons from friends and family. There's always so many different uses for them, both sweet and savoury, as the feature ingredient or as a flavour enhancer. I lean towards the sweet side of things when using lemons. In winter, lemon delicious is one of my favourite desserts, with a creamy, custardy lemon sauce hiding beneath a golden sponge topping. I have several delicious lemon cake recipes to choose from, including a lemon and yoghurt version and a magnificently huge, dense lemon sour cream cake. And nothing beats a slice of lemon tart with double cream on the side.
Having received a generous bag of lemons recently, these are some of the lemon dishes we've been feasting on. Of course, lemons are great to have on hand so that the zest or juice can be added to seafood or chicken dishes. When we're getting near the end of the bag, I like to make up lemon curd to use in cakes or tarts, and a hot lemon drink is a great pick-me-up when I feel a cold coming on.
I've been making the following lemon cake for at least 15 years. It's a Beverley Sutherland Smith recipe from an afternoon tea cake feature in Epicure in The Age, probably in the late 1980s or early 1990s, and it quickly became a family favourite. It's a wonderful soft, buttery cake with the sweetness offset by the tart lemon flavour. A sticky sugary syrup on top means there's no need for icing. This is a great morning or afternoon tea cake.
LEMON CAKE
125g butter
1 1/4 cups caster sugar
grated rind of 1 lemon
3 tablespoons lemon juice
2 large eggs
1 1/4 cups plain flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/3 cup milk
Topping
grated rind 1 lemon
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1/4 cup caster sugar
Butter the base and sides of a 20cm round cake tin. Line the base with non-stick baking paper and butter this also. Preheat the oven to 180-190 degrees.
Cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Add the lemon rind and juice and mix well.
Sift the flour and baking powder over the top and add, alternately, with milk. Spoon into the tin, smooth the top and bake for 10 minutes. Turn the oven down to 170 degrees and cook for 45 minutes, or until a skewer inserted into the centre of the cake comes out clean.
Allow to cool for 5 minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack to cool.
To make the topping, mix all the ingredients in a small saucepan and heat until the sugar has softened. Spoon over the top of the cake while still warm.
The recipe says to let the cake cool completely before cutting but I find I can't resist slicing off a piece of warm cake - there's nothing better than a slice of warm cake fresh from the oven!
Having received a generous bag of lemons recently, these are some of the lemon dishes we've been feasting on. Of course, lemons are great to have on hand so that the zest or juice can be added to seafood or chicken dishes. When we're getting near the end of the bag, I like to make up lemon curd to use in cakes or tarts, and a hot lemon drink is a great pick-me-up when I feel a cold coming on.
I've been making the following lemon cake for at least 15 years. It's a Beverley Sutherland Smith recipe from an afternoon tea cake feature in Epicure in The Age, probably in the late 1980s or early 1990s, and it quickly became a family favourite. It's a wonderful soft, buttery cake with the sweetness offset by the tart lemon flavour. A sticky sugary syrup on top means there's no need for icing. This is a great morning or afternoon tea cake.
LEMON CAKE
125g butter
1 1/4 cups caster sugar
grated rind of 1 lemon
3 tablespoons lemon juice
2 large eggs
1 1/4 cups plain flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/3 cup milk
Topping
grated rind 1 lemon
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1/4 cup caster sugar
Butter the base and sides of a 20cm round cake tin. Line the base with non-stick baking paper and butter this also. Preheat the oven to 180-190 degrees.
Cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Add the lemon rind and juice and mix well.
Sift the flour and baking powder over the top and add, alternately, with milk. Spoon into the tin, smooth the top and bake for 10 minutes. Turn the oven down to 170 degrees and cook for 45 minutes, or until a skewer inserted into the centre of the cake comes out clean.
Allow to cool for 5 minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack to cool.
To make the topping, mix all the ingredients in a small saucepan and heat until the sugar has softened. Spoon over the top of the cake while still warm.
The recipe says to let the cake cool completely before cutting but I find I can't resist slicing off a piece of warm cake - there's nothing better than a slice of warm cake fresh from the oven!
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Old-fashioned cakes stand test of time
I am the temporary custodian of my grandmother's cookbook. It's been passed around my mother and aunts and has now come to me. It's a tatty old A5 book, its brown leather cover held together with a strip of floral contact paper. Page after page is filled with my grandmother's copperplate writing, interspersed with recipes clipped from old newspapers and magazines. There's a leaflet from the White Wings National Bake-off competition. First prize for 1965 is "crunchy amber cake" (butter cakes sandwiched together with a custard filling and iced with a spiced meringue topping browned in the oven), while the "seafood banquet pie" took the honours in 1963.
Grandma's cookbook is filled with recipes for puddings, cakes, biscuits and slices. There's a short "savouries" chapter, mostly for casseroles. Surprised by the amount of sweet recipes, as I tend to think of dessert as being a luxury in the thrify past, I asked mum why there were so many. She explained that savoury cooking was quite plain, often meat and three vegetables, so there wasn't much need for recipes, as most housewives had a repertoire they'd acquired growing up. There was more scope with sweet food, hence the number of recipes.
Robert Drewe wrote in The Age on 23 December 2006 about finding his nan's cookbook, which contained recipes for 54 puddings, 41 cakes and 35 types of biscuits. "It's contents highlight the single biggest change in Australian eating habits since [nan's] cooking heyday: the sad passing of puddings and cakes," he wrote. "Apparently her family ate these delicacies all the time. If so, mystery of the ages, family albums show that they were all thin."
I haven't counted the number of puddings or cakes, but Grandma's book is full of delightfully old-fashioned recipes: flummery, strawberry float, junket ice-cream, blancmange, treacle cakes, sago treat, refrigerator biscuits, marshamllow cake or slice, and cream puffs (at least three recipes, one marked "unsatisfactory - too thin a mixture").
There's the evocatively named ruby cakes, topsy cake, dark cake, johnnie cakes, rock cakes, golden wattlecake, "slice using cake crumbs", Rickety Anns (sultana biscuits), Commando Tarts (butter biscuits topped with jam and meringue), Coconut Belles, Luncheon Cake, Fiesta Cookies, Chinese Chew, Fairy Biscuits and "Economy Biscuits by the Lady Mayoress of Melbourne".
I chose to make the intriguing "Bible Cake", mostly because of the novel way that the recipe is written. For those who haven't got Bibles at hand, luckily the recipe provides a "translation" (I've also converted from imperial to metric). It makes a large cake, a cross between a very light fruit cake and a pound cake. It's extremely moreish and is a great match with a cup of tea.
RECIPE FOR BIBLE CAKE
Take (1) 250g of Judges 5:25; (2) 250g of Jeremiah 6:20; (3) 1 tablespoon of 1 Samuel 14:25; (4) 3 of Jeremiah 17:11; (5) 250g of 1 Samuel 30:12; (6) 250g of Nahum 3:12 (chopped); (7) 60g of Numbers 17:8 (blanched and chopped); (8) 500g of 1 Kings 4:22; (9) season to taste with 2 Chronicles 9:9; (10) a pinch of Leviticus 2:13; (11) 1 teaspoon of Amos 4:5*; (12) 3 tablespoons of Judges 4:19 - the last clause.
* 'Leaven' is equivalent to baking powder
Mixing instructions: Beat 1, 2 and 3 to a cream, add 4 one at a time, still beating. Then add 5, 6 and 7 and beat again. Next add 8, 9, 10 and 11 (having previously mixed them), and last of all add 12. Bake in a rather slow oven (170 degrees) for not less than an hour and a half.
Translation:
(1) butter
(2) sugar
(3) honey
(4) eggs
(5) raisins
(6) figs
(7) almonds
(8) flour
(9) spice
(10) salt
(11) baking powder
(12) milk
Grandma's cookbook is filled with recipes for puddings, cakes, biscuits and slices. There's a short "savouries" chapter, mostly for casseroles. Surprised by the amount of sweet recipes, as I tend to think of dessert as being a luxury in the thrify past, I asked mum why there were so many. She explained that savoury cooking was quite plain, often meat and three vegetables, so there wasn't much need for recipes, as most housewives had a repertoire they'd acquired growing up. There was more scope with sweet food, hence the number of recipes.
Robert Drewe wrote in The Age on 23 December 2006 about finding his nan's cookbook, which contained recipes for 54 puddings, 41 cakes and 35 types of biscuits. "It's contents highlight the single biggest change in Australian eating habits since [nan's] cooking heyday: the sad passing of puddings and cakes," he wrote. "Apparently her family ate these delicacies all the time. If so, mystery of the ages, family albums show that they were all thin."
I haven't counted the number of puddings or cakes, but Grandma's book is full of delightfully old-fashioned recipes: flummery, strawberry float, junket ice-cream, blancmange, treacle cakes, sago treat, refrigerator biscuits, marshamllow cake or slice, and cream puffs (at least three recipes, one marked "unsatisfactory - too thin a mixture").
There's the evocatively named ruby cakes, topsy cake, dark cake, johnnie cakes, rock cakes, golden wattlecake, "slice using cake crumbs", Rickety Anns (sultana biscuits), Commando Tarts (butter biscuits topped with jam and meringue), Coconut Belles, Luncheon Cake, Fiesta Cookies, Chinese Chew, Fairy Biscuits and "Economy Biscuits by the Lady Mayoress of Melbourne".
I chose to make the intriguing "Bible Cake", mostly because of the novel way that the recipe is written. For those who haven't got Bibles at hand, luckily the recipe provides a "translation" (I've also converted from imperial to metric). It makes a large cake, a cross between a very light fruit cake and a pound cake. It's extremely moreish and is a great match with a cup of tea.
RECIPE FOR BIBLE CAKE
Take (1) 250g of Judges 5:25; (2) 250g of Jeremiah 6:20; (3) 1 tablespoon of 1 Samuel 14:25; (4) 3 of Jeremiah 17:11; (5) 250g of 1 Samuel 30:12; (6) 250g of Nahum 3:12 (chopped); (7) 60g of Numbers 17:8 (blanched and chopped); (8) 500g of 1 Kings 4:22; (9) season to taste with 2 Chronicles 9:9; (10) a pinch of Leviticus 2:13; (11) 1 teaspoon of Amos 4:5*; (12) 3 tablespoons of Judges 4:19 - the last clause.
* 'Leaven' is equivalent to baking powder
Mixing instructions: Beat 1, 2 and 3 to a cream, add 4 one at a time, still beating. Then add 5, 6 and 7 and beat again. Next add 8, 9, 10 and 11 (having previously mixed them), and last of all add 12. Bake in a rather slow oven (170 degrees) for not less than an hour and a half.
Translation:
(1) butter
(2) sugar
(3) honey
(4) eggs
(5) raisins
(6) figs
(7) almonds
(8) flour
(9) spice
(10) salt
(11) baking powder
(12) milk
Friday, June 29, 2007
Cupcake heaven
The whole world seems to be in love with cupcakes. Maybe it's their cute size and shape, or the fact that they feel less indulgent than a big slice of cake, or just that they seem to invoke a party atmosphere. There's been a spate of cupcake books recently featured in the food news, so it seems the trend is definitely not over.
My mothers' group recently held a joint first birthday party for our babies. In between reminiscing about our first meeting, lamenting how quickly the first year had gone and that our little newborns were now toddlers, and chasing said toddlers around the playgym, we of course found time for birthday cake. I was one of the designated cake makers and what better choice could there be than vanilla cupcakes iced with bright green, pink and yellow icing?
Jennifer Graham, of Crabapple Cupcake Bakery fame, recently published her cookbook book, which spilled the secrets of her fabulous little cupcakes. The basic vanilla cupcakes were delicious little morsels, loved by both adults and children alike. I made and tinted a basic butter icing, rather than Jennifer's buttercream, which seemed too rich for our little audience.
VANILLA CUPCAKES
2 3/4 cups plain flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
200g softened unsalted butter
1 cup caster sugar
4 eggs
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
1 cup milk
Preheat oven to 170 degrees. Line two 12-hole muffin trays with cupcake papers.
Sift flour and baking powder. Cream the butter for 1-2 minutes. Add the caster sugar one-third at a time, beating for two minutes after each addition. After the last addition, beat until light and fluffy and the sugar is almost dissolved. Add the eggs one a time, beating for one minute after each addition or until the mixture is light and fluffy. Add the vanilla extract.
Add one-third of the flour and beat on low speed until combined. Add half the milk and beat until combined. Repeat with remaining flour and milk, finishing with the flour. Be careful not to overbeat or the mixture will toughen. Spoon the mixture into cupcake papers until they are about three-quarters full. Cook for 18-20 minutes. Turn out of the tin and cool on a wire rack.
Recipe from The Crabapple Bakery Cupcake cookbook
My mothers' group recently held a joint first birthday party for our babies. In between reminiscing about our first meeting, lamenting how quickly the first year had gone and that our little newborns were now toddlers, and chasing said toddlers around the playgym, we of course found time for birthday cake. I was one of the designated cake makers and what better choice could there be than vanilla cupcakes iced with bright green, pink and yellow icing?
Jennifer Graham, of Crabapple Cupcake Bakery fame, recently published her cookbook book, which spilled the secrets of her fabulous little cupcakes. The basic vanilla cupcakes were delicious little morsels, loved by both adults and children alike. I made and tinted a basic butter icing, rather than Jennifer's buttercream, which seemed too rich for our little audience.
VANILLA CUPCAKES
2 3/4 cups plain flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
200g softened unsalted butter
1 cup caster sugar
4 eggs
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
1 cup milk
Preheat oven to 170 degrees. Line two 12-hole muffin trays with cupcake papers.
Sift flour and baking powder. Cream the butter for 1-2 minutes. Add the caster sugar one-third at a time, beating for two minutes after each addition. After the last addition, beat until light and fluffy and the sugar is almost dissolved. Add the eggs one a time, beating for one minute after each addition or until the mixture is light and fluffy. Add the vanilla extract.
Add one-third of the flour and beat on low speed until combined. Add half the milk and beat until combined. Repeat with remaining flour and milk, finishing with the flour. Be careful not to overbeat or the mixture will toughen. Spoon the mixture into cupcake papers until they are about three-quarters full. Cook for 18-20 minutes. Turn out of the tin and cool on a wire rack.
Recipe from The Crabapple Bakery Cupcake cookbook
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Menu for a cold winter's night
The weather forecast was for a top of 11 degrees, with rain and possible hail and thunderstorms. It's the sort of day that makes you want to stay indoors and dream of stew. I find stew and casseroles such comforting winter food. At the first sign of frost, I start thinking of chunks of beef or lamb, slowly simmered in a sauce of stock, red wine and tomatoes and flavoured with roast vegetables, served with a big mound of mash or polenta, or thick vegetable and lentil stews, or soups, or puddings - the sort of comfort food that warms you up from the inside out.
A perennial favourite in our household is my grandmother's beef casserole with parsley dumplings. Adam loves this dish so much that he requests it every year for his birthday, despite the fact that it falls in February and stew is often the last thing I feel like on a hot summer day! This casserole is easy to make and fills the house with warm, comforting aromas while it cooks. The parsley dumplings add a homey touch and elevate the casserole to a higher level. I serve this with greens on the side, as there's no need to have potatoes, rice or polenta as well as the dumplings.
Issue 32 of Donna Hay magazine featured maple pear tarte tatin on the front cover, the caramelised pear slices glistening on a bed of puff pastry. I've never been a huge fan of pears but this recipe looked delicious and easy to make, so I decided to give it a go. I'm now a pear convert! The pear slices are softly caramelised and contrast beautifully with the crunch of the pastry. It's a soft and sweet, but not overpowering, finish to a meal.
BEEF CASSEROLE WITH PARSLEY DUMPLINGS
750g stewing steak (such as gravy beef)
3 tablespoons plain flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
black pepper
1 teaspoon dry mustard
2 tablespoons butter
1 large onion, sliced
3 medium carrots, peeled and diced
1 1/4 cups beef stock
1 dessertspoon worcestershire sauce
DUMPLINGS
1 cup SR flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
30g butter
1 egg
1/4 cup milk
2 tablespoons chopped parsley
Cut meat into cubes. Mix flour in a freezer bag with mustard, salt and pepper. Add the meat cubes and shake to coat. Melt the butter in a large, ovenproof casserole. Brown the meat in batches and remove (you may need to add more butter). Saute the onion until translucent, then add the carrot and cook a little longer. Stir in any remaining flour (if you don't have any left over, stir in 1 or 2 tablespoons) and cook for 1-2 minutes. Add the stock and worcestershire sauce, and stir until it thickens and boils. Return the meat to the casserole dish. Cover and cook in a moderate oven (180 degrees) for 1 1/2 hours. (Check every half hour, as you may need to add some extra water or stock if it's drying out). Place the dumplings on top, cover and cook for 15 minutes.
To make dumplings, sift the flour and salt into a bowl. Rub in the butter with your fingertips until the mixture resembles breadcrumbs. Beat the egg in a separate bowl and add the milk and the parsley. Make a well in the flour and stir in the liquid to make a soft dough. Scoop out and drop on top of the bubbling casserole.
You can substitute lamb for the beef and make dumplings with two teaspoons of chopped mint instead of the parsley.
MAPLE PEAR TARTE TATIN
30g butter
1/4 cup maple syrup
1 pear, sliced
1 sheet of puff pastry
Preheat the oven to 180 degrees. Melt the butter in a non-stick ovenproof pan (should not have plastic handles). Add the sliced pear and cook for 5-6 minutes, or until the pear is soft. Take off heat and fit the pastry sheet snugly over the pears. Bake in the oven for 30-35 minutes, or until the pastry is puffed and golden. Stand for 1 minute, then tip out onto a plate and serve with cream or ice-cream.
Based on a recipe in issue 32 of Donna Hay magazine
Friday, June 15, 2007
A little morsel of sweetness
It's mid-morning or mid-afternoon and the craving starts. Just something small and sweet, a voice whispers in your brain. Or a piece of chocolate. Something to inject a little morsel of sweetness into your day.
I haven't worked out whether these cravings are physical (your body needs a sugar hit to keep it going) or mental (I really need some chocolate now!) But when you decide to give in, it's best to do it with a tasty home-cooked biscuit than something mass-produced, flavourless and full of preservatives.
Cakes and biscuits are often seen as wicked calorie boosters, particularly in the current debate about obesity. While I think generous portion sizes and too much processed food are more to blame, sweet treats should certainly be enjoyed in moderation. But if you've made the decision to indulge, make sure you choose wisely and eat something that you'll enjoy, rather than something that will only half-sate your craving and leave you feeling guilty afterwards.
These sweet little biscuits definitely fit the bill. They use few ingredients, all of which will be found in any fridge and pantry, they take minimal time to mix up and bake, and they partner beautifully with a cup of tea or coffee.
These biscuit recipes are from my grandmother's cookbook, so I've updated the recipes to metric measurements.
CARAMEL COOKIES
115g butter
115g sugar
1 tablespoon golden syrup
1 tablespoon milk
1 teaspoon vanilla
225g SR flour, sifted
Put butter, sugar, golden syrup, milk and vanilla into a saucepan and boil gently for five minutes. Cool, then mix in flour. Roll into balls and flatten with a fork. Bake in a moderate oven (180 degrees) for 10-12 minutes.
BURNT BUTTER BISCUITS
115g butter
115g caster sugar
1 egg
150g SR flour, sifted
Cook the butter in a saucepan until a light brown colour. Cool. Add the caster sugar and beat to a cream, then add the egg and beat well. Add the flour (I found 150g was not quite enough flour, so I added some more, tablespoon by tablespoon, until I had a soft dough). Roll into small balls and press half an almond in each. Cook in a moderate oven (180 degrees) for 10-12 minutes.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Hearty seafood chowder
The thought of Irish food brings forth the cliches of potatoes, beef and Guinness pie, potatoes and potatoes. While it's true that we ate a lot of potatoes in Ireland (including being served chips as a side dish to my fish pie topped with a generous serve of mashed potato), we also found a lot of other interesting and flavoursome dishes. A dozen oysters were perfectly offset by a pint of Guinness (much to my surprise). And, although it was June and meant to be summer, the 17 degree days meant thick bean and vegetable soup or seafood chowder always went down well.
County Donegal, in the northwest corner of Ireland, is rugged and barren but breathtakingly beautiful with huge mountains and long green valleys. It feels isolated and I can imagine how bleak it would be in winter, with storms roaring across the seas and through the mountain ranges. We stopped at the town of Rossnowlaugh to have lunch at Smugglers Creek, an award-winning restaurant and pub that is perched high on a cliff overlooking Donegal Bay and the long curl of a white sandy beach. Pinned near the front door was a restaurant review that recommended the "toe-curlingly good" Atlantic seafood chowder. As we settled ourselves into the window table overlooking the sea, there was no question of us ordering anything else, except for one unfortunate travelling companion who was pregnant at the time and had to content herself with the tomato and bacon soup. She said it was delicious but she looked mournfully at our bowls as we raved and raved and raved about the chowder, which was thick and creamy, loaded with plump seafood, and with a lovely lingering aftertaste of dill.
Of course the recipe is a well-guarded secret, so I set about trying to replicate it when we returned home. Although chowder should have a generous helping of mixed seafood - perhaps chunks of white fish or salmon, mussels, prawns and scallops, I cheat and use my favourite marinara mix from the Queen Victoria Market. While this is not strictly authentic, it cuts down considerably on the preparation and cooking time. Sometimes I include dill in the chowder and sometimes, inspired by a recipe in Irish Soups and Breads by Nuala Cullen, I add a pinch of saffron. Either way, this is a hearty soup for a cold winter's night.
SEAFOOD CHOWDER
500 - 750g marinara mix (or make up your own combination of seafood)
6 rashers bacon, sliced into strips
1 carrot, peeled and chopped
1 leek, sliced
1 onion, peeled and diced
1 celery stick, diced
2 large potatoes, peeled and diced
900ml water or fish stock
300ml cream
150g butter
1-2 tablespoons flour
1 tablespoon chopped dill or 1 pinch of saffron
salt and pepper
a small handful of chopped parsley
Melt the butter in a saucepan and cook the bacon until crisp. Add the vegetables and fry for a minute or two. Stir in the flour, then gradually add the water or stock, stirring until smooth. Cover and cook gently until the vegetables are tender (about 10-15 minutes). Add the cream and the seafood and cook for a few minutes, until the seafood is cooked. Add the dill/saffon and the salt and pepper. Serve in soup bowls and scatter with the bacon and parsley.
County Donegal, in the northwest corner of Ireland, is rugged and barren but breathtakingly beautiful with huge mountains and long green valleys. It feels isolated and I can imagine how bleak it would be in winter, with storms roaring across the seas and through the mountain ranges. We stopped at the town of Rossnowlaugh to have lunch at Smugglers Creek, an award-winning restaurant and pub that is perched high on a cliff overlooking Donegal Bay and the long curl of a white sandy beach. Pinned near the front door was a restaurant review that recommended the "toe-curlingly good" Atlantic seafood chowder. As we settled ourselves into the window table overlooking the sea, there was no question of us ordering anything else, except for one unfortunate travelling companion who was pregnant at the time and had to content herself with the tomato and bacon soup. She said it was delicious but she looked mournfully at our bowls as we raved and raved and raved about the chowder, which was thick and creamy, loaded with plump seafood, and with a lovely lingering aftertaste of dill.
Of course the recipe is a well-guarded secret, so I set about trying to replicate it when we returned home. Although chowder should have a generous helping of mixed seafood - perhaps chunks of white fish or salmon, mussels, prawns and scallops, I cheat and use my favourite marinara mix from the Queen Victoria Market. While this is not strictly authentic, it cuts down considerably on the preparation and cooking time. Sometimes I include dill in the chowder and sometimes, inspired by a recipe in Irish Soups and Breads by Nuala Cullen, I add a pinch of saffron. Either way, this is a hearty soup for a cold winter's night.
SEAFOOD CHOWDER
500 - 750g marinara mix (or make up your own combination of seafood)
6 rashers bacon, sliced into strips
1 carrot, peeled and chopped
1 leek, sliced
1 onion, peeled and diced
1 celery stick, diced
2 large potatoes, peeled and diced
900ml water or fish stock
300ml cream
150g butter
1-2 tablespoons flour
1 tablespoon chopped dill or 1 pinch of saffron
salt and pepper
a small handful of chopped parsley
Melt the butter in a saucepan and cook the bacon until crisp. Add the vegetables and fry for a minute or two. Stir in the flour, then gradually add the water or stock, stirring until smooth. Cover and cook gently until the vegetables are tender (about 10-15 minutes). Add the cream and the seafood and cook for a few minutes, until the seafood is cooked. Add the dill/saffon and the salt and pepper. Serve in soup bowls and scatter with the bacon and parsley.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Energising breakfasts
I can't function if I don't eat breakfast. If I miss it, there's a large hole in my stomach that can't be filled, even if I stuff myself for the rest of the day.
Aside from the emptiness factor, and from the health and nutritional benefits of breaking your overnight fast, breakfast - and brunch - are fun. Whether it's a bowl of bircher muesli, a platter of fresh fruit drizzled with yoghurt, or a weekend indulgence of eggs or pancakes, it starts the day off on a good note and it never feels sinful to indulge at breakfast because you know you've got the rest of the day to work it off.
My mum has a delicious, healthy muesli recipe that we've been mixing up for years, chock-full of dried fruit and nuts. My weekend indulgence is buttermilk pancakes with bacon or sinfully creamy scrambled eggs. I always make Adam a Valentine's Day breakfast of scrambled eggs on sourdough toast, complete with crispy bacon rolls, roasted tomatoes and garlicky mushrooms on the side. I quite often mix up bircher muesli on Sunday night to see us through the week, or I make Bill Granger's justifiably famous coconut bread that can be frozen and reheated for a quick breakfast.
In Bill's latest cookbook, Every Day, he featured an apple, dried cherry and almond loaf as an energising breakfast idea. Not having all the specified ingredients on hand, I adapted the recipe to suit my needs. The dried fruit studded throughout the loaf gives it a pretty jewel-like appearance. It freezes well and can be thawed and lightly toasted for a great start to the day.
BREAKFAST LOAF
50g rolled oats
300ml milk
240g self-raising flour (white or wholemeal)
1 teaspoon baking powder
125g craisins (or dried cherries)
60g dried apricots, chopped (or use 50g chopped and diced dried apples)
75g brown sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
3 tablespoons honey
1 egg, lightly beaten
3 tablespoons roughly chopped almonds, plus 2 tablespoons extra
Put the oats in a bowl, pour over the milk and leave to soak for 30 minutes. Preheat the oven to 180 degrees. Line a 1kg loaf tin with non-stick baking paper.
Sift the flour and baking powder into a bowl and stir in the rolled oats, dried fruit, sugar, cinnamon, honey, egg and almonds. Mix well.
Spoon the mixture into the tin, level the top and sprinkle with extra almonds. Bake for 45 minutes or until golden brown on top and cooked through. Leave to cool a little in the tin before turning out onto a wire rack to cool completely.
Adapted from a recipe in Every Day by Bill Granger
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
The art of the sponge
Ah, sponge cake! Is there anything more likely to strike fear into the hearts of cooks and joy in the faces of the afternoon tea guests?
Epicure in today's Age features a gorgeous article on sponge cake, which it says has become an endangered species. "The sponge was an early casualty of the post-WWII economic boom. Dramatic social and economic changes led to a decline in home preserving and home baking ... The sponge, being a time-consuming cake, was almost lost in the rush for modernity," Richard Cornish writes. The County Women's Association are the self-appointed guardians of the traditional sponge and they outline in the article their many theories as to why the sponge has declined, chief among them being lack of time. CWA state president Noela MacLeod says that people are too busy to bake sponges and find it easier to buy a cream-filled sponge from the supermarket (personally, I would rather eat cardboard than one of those cakes).
My great-aunt always served a sponge for afternoon tea, usually a traditional sponge with a cream and jam filling, but occasionally chocolate sponge or ginger fluff sponge. Mystique surrounds sponge cakes because they can be temperamental and nothing is more deflating to a cook's ego than a flat sponge. You must use fresh eggs, sift the dry ingredients several times, take care not to overbeat the mixture, grease the tins well and make sure the oven is the correct temperature.
I made sponges often as a little girl but have steered clear of them in recent years because of my temperamental oven. However, mum recently gave me her recipe for ginger fluff sponge. I love the spicy gingeriness of this cake, much more than a traditional sponge and it's great for afternoon tea. It's good timing as I plan to make it this weekend as a tribute to the sponge - long may it live!
GINGER FLUFF SPONGE
4 eggs
3/4 cup white sugar
1 dessertspoon golden syrup
1/2 cup arrowroot or cornflour
2 teaspoons ginger
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 teaspoon cocoa
2 dessertspoons plain flour
1/2 teaspoon cream of tartar
1 teaspoon bicarbonate soda
Beat eggs and sugar until thick and creamy. Add golden syrup. Sift together twice arrowroot, ginger, cinnamon, cocoa, flour, bicarb soda and cream of tartar. Fold into egg mixture. Pour into two 20cm well-greased sandwich tins. Bake in a moderate oven (180 degrees) for 15-20 minutes. Fill with whipped cream, ice with chocolate icing and dot with cherries or chopped walnuts. Best eaten on the day it's made.
Epicure in today's Age features a gorgeous article on sponge cake, which it says has become an endangered species. "The sponge was an early casualty of the post-WWII economic boom. Dramatic social and economic changes led to a decline in home preserving and home baking ... The sponge, being a time-consuming cake, was almost lost in the rush for modernity," Richard Cornish writes. The County Women's Association are the self-appointed guardians of the traditional sponge and they outline in the article their many theories as to why the sponge has declined, chief among them being lack of time. CWA state president Noela MacLeod says that people are too busy to bake sponges and find it easier to buy a cream-filled sponge from the supermarket (personally, I would rather eat cardboard than one of those cakes).
My great-aunt always served a sponge for afternoon tea, usually a traditional sponge with a cream and jam filling, but occasionally chocolate sponge or ginger fluff sponge. Mystique surrounds sponge cakes because they can be temperamental and nothing is more deflating to a cook's ego than a flat sponge. You must use fresh eggs, sift the dry ingredients several times, take care not to overbeat the mixture, grease the tins well and make sure the oven is the correct temperature.
I made sponges often as a little girl but have steered clear of them in recent years because of my temperamental oven. However, mum recently gave me her recipe for ginger fluff sponge. I love the spicy gingeriness of this cake, much more than a traditional sponge and it's great for afternoon tea. It's good timing as I plan to make it this weekend as a tribute to the sponge - long may it live!
GINGER FLUFF SPONGE
4 eggs
3/4 cup white sugar
1 dessertspoon golden syrup
1/2 cup arrowroot or cornflour
2 teaspoons ginger
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 teaspoon cocoa
2 dessertspoons plain flour
1/2 teaspoon cream of tartar
1 teaspoon bicarbonate soda
Beat eggs and sugar until thick and creamy. Add golden syrup. Sift together twice arrowroot, ginger, cinnamon, cocoa, flour, bicarb soda and cream of tartar. Fold into egg mixture. Pour into two 20cm well-greased sandwich tins. Bake in a moderate oven (180 degrees) for 15-20 minutes. Fill with whipped cream, ice with chocolate icing and dot with cherries or chopped walnuts. Best eaten on the day it's made.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
A little burst of sunshine
Our passionfruit vine has been very prolific this year. I've been gathering passionfruit for nearly a fortnight now, piling them up in the fruit bowl while I ponder what to do with them. Earlier in the season, the March edition of Gourmet Traveller arrived on the same day I gathered the first crop, conveniently featuring a special on passionfruit. Although we enjoyed the passionfruit yo-yos I made, I didn't feel like them this time, nor passionfruit mousse, or the flummery recipe I found in my grandmother's cookbook. So the passionfruit sat and grew wrinkly, and Adam kept asking what I was going to do with them, and still I couldn't decide.
Finally, inspiration struck and I decided to make passionfruit cupcakes. Cupcakes seem to be featured everywhere at the moment, so obviously the idea of cute little cakes had lodged in my brain. I made a basic butter cake recipe, substituting passionfruit juice for milk, divided it into paper muffin cases and iced the cakes with a sunny yellow passionfruit-flavoured icing.
The cupcakes are a bright, cheery yellow and taste like sunshine - a perfect treat as the days grow shorter and darker. Because my vine produces quite small fruit, I've specified a juice measurement, rather than the number of fruit, as it depends on the size you grow or buy. Feel free to adjust the measurements to suit your taste.
PASSIONFRUIT CUPCAKES
125g butter, softened
1/2 cup sugar
2 eggs
1 1/2 cups self-raising flour
60ml passionfruit juice, strained
Cut the passionfruit in half, scoop out the pulp and put into a strainer set over a bowl. Use the back of a teaspoon to push the pulp through the strainer, extracting the juice. Discard the pulp and seeds.
Cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in the eggs one at a time, then add the sifted flour and the passionfruit juice. Spoon into a 12-cup muffin tin, lined with paper cases (I found this quantity made only nine cupcakes but my muffin tin is quite large). Bake at 180 degrees for 15-20 minutes, or until a skewer inserted into the centre of a cake comes out clean.
Cool on a wire rack and ice when cold. For the icing, mix one cup of icing sugar with enough passionfruit juice to make a soft icing consistency (not too runny).
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