Bread and Butter Pudding

We spent last Saturday looking at houses in Oxford. 
It was one of those winter days that is much better spent inside -- what with the wind and the rain and bone-chilling damp. 
No house is going to look its best on such a day, even if it is filled with vases of red tulips and wood-burning fireplaces in every room.  But that fantasy scenario was far off the mark.  In reality, we were looking at run-down houses that were still horrendously expensive. Is there anything more depressing than looking at houses that have come on the market because their elderly occupants have recently died?  They have a forlorn quality like nothing else in the world. The howling wind just magnified the flaws of inadequate heating systems and ancient wooden sash windows which creaked in their frames. 

On the drive home from this grim outing, I caught part of a Radio 4 program about bread and butter pudding.  There is definitely a good reason why this solid old English pudding falls under the heading of "comfort food."  By the time we got home, I was so desperately hungry that I went straight into the kitchen to make myself one.  There was a rather virtuous minestrone soup for dinner, but I filled up on bread and butter pudding.  What is that saying?  Life is uncertain; eat dessert first.

This version is my own experiment, based on what I could remember from the radio program -- mainly, to "heat milk, cream and eggs until they were the temperature of blood."  It is creamier and more custardy than the English version, which can be a bit dry, but not as rich and decadent as American bread pudding.
I highly recommend it -- best just warm from the oven, but still quite good cold for breakfast the next morning.
It's vegetarian, although not as low-fat or high-fiber as the lentils that Julochka has been eating.  On the other hand, it has a pleasingly frugal quality that seems right for February.  It is the perfect use for stale bread, and I was also able to empty out two jars of orange marmalade that contained about two tablespoons each.

Ingredients:
8 slices white bread
approximately two ounces of butter, plus a bit more to grease the pan
32 ounces (or 800 ml) of milk and cream combined -- I used two-thirds semi-skimmed milk and one-third single cream.  I think this is a fairly flexible arrangement, though.
2 ounces of caster sugar, plus extra sugar (demerara would be good) to sprinkle on the top
3 large eggs
enough orange marmalade -- maybe 4 tablespoons -- to cover four slices of bread
a large handful or raisins soaked in a couple of tablespoons of Grand Marnier
freshly grated nutmeg

Method:
Preheat the oven to a moderate heat -- about 350F.
Start soaking a generous handful of raisins in a couple of tablespoons of Grand Marnier (or Cointreau; or orange juice if you are teetotal).
Generously butter 8 slices of white bread.
Spread 4 slices with orange marmalade -- again, quantities need not be too specific and can depend somewhat on your liking for marmalade (or how much you have left in a jar you want to empty).
Make "sandwiches" from the bread, and then cut them into triangles.
Whisk the eggs into the cream, milk and sugar until thoroughly combined, and then carefully heat over a low flame until barely warm. 
Arrange the bread triangles in an oven-proof dish.  I like to use my oval two-quart Pyrex.
Throw the raisins over the bread, and then pour the liquid mixture over the top.
Leave to soak for about ten minutes -- and then, as a final touch, dust with freshly grated nutmeg and some coarse demerara sugar.

It will need about 35 minutes in the oven, and maybe 5 minutes before you can plunge in with a big spoon.

vegetarian lunch for one - beluga lentils

oddly enough, our commitment to eating less meat around here has lasted into February. and i'd have to say that i'm feeling increasingly comfortable with it and feeling less tempted to throw bacon into dishes at the last minute.

i find it easiest to eat vegetarian when i'm making lunch for myself. no one else's palate to accomodate allows me to experiment and explore new flavors. i'm also pushing myself to be a bit more inventive with what's at hand. here's the result from today...

beluga lentil lunch

300 grams of beluga lentils (little round black ones)

1 veggie bouillon cube

1 bay leaf

500 ml (2 cups) of water - you may need to add a bit more if it boils away before you think the lentils are done.

1 small onion, diced

a handful of fresh thyme

handful of hazelnuts, toasted in the pan and then chopped roughly

1 large spoonful of honey

juice of half a lemon

olive oil

soft, fresh goat cheese (mine was packed in oil with seasonings)

rinse the lentils, then cook on the stove, like you would rice, until the liquid boils mostly away - about 20 minutes.

while it's cooking, stir together a generous spoonful of honey and the juice of half a lemon, thyme and a drizzle of olive oil in a bowl, season with salt and pepper. dice onion and add it. toast the hazelnuts in a dry pan (keeping an eye on them so they don't burn). roll the hazelnuts in a towel to remove the husks and roughly chop them. once the lentils are done, drain off any excess water (tho' theoretically, there shouldn't be any) and add several large spoonsful of them to your dressing/onion bowl. stir well, top with soft goat cheese and toasted hazelnuts and enjoy your healthy and delicious solitary lunch. there will be enough lentils left over to do it again tomorrow.

a reluctant vegetarian

beans for lunch

tho' i'm not much of a maker of new year's resolutions, nearly every january, i am inspired to embark on some new healthy eating campaign. i think it's the overload of sweets and heavy, fatty food from christmas that does it. often, what i think is "we're going to eat a lot less meat around here." and this year was no different. between christmas & new year's, i went online and changed our weekly organic box delivery to the vegetarian box. it comes with enough non-meat goodies and recipes for four meals. it's a good mix of fresh vegetables and beans or pasta and tofu or goat cheese. it's different every week and they're very good at providing inspiration with new ingredients (for example, something called a "silver beet" (directly translated) that is a winter green of sorts) and staples (potatoes, carrots).

i don't want to be a vegetarian per se, but i would like us to eat less meat and thereby enjoy the meat we do eat that much more. i'd rather buy the occasional organic chicken for a sunday roast (and afterwards, a good pot of chicken stock) than eat manufactured, water plumped chicken breasts from chickens that led a dismal life, three times a week. it's a factor too that the production of animals for human consumption is, in general, one of the hardest things on our environment and one of the biggest contributors to climate change. so, we try to eat less meat.

but having grown up in the midwest, the urge is strong to think that no meal is complete without meat. i can stir up a pot of beans or a veggie soup or a stir-fry, but nearly every time, at the last minute, i think, "hmm, some bacon would be quite nice in this." even the beautiful marriage of flavors that is potato leek soup often gets a bit of crumbly bacon on top when served around here. it's hard to fight your upbringing.

however, i recently did fight it and with great results. so great, in fact, that i utterly failed to photograph it. i made a truly vegetarian lasagne. no last minute bacon or any other kind of meat! and it was delicious!

veggie lasagne

3 carrots, grated

2 parsnips, grated

2 large beefsteak tomatoes, diced

1 zucchini, grated

3 leeks, sliced

3 cloves of garlic, finely chopped (or pressed - i've grown to loathe my garlic press, because it's so hard to clean, so i just bash the garlic with the side of my knife and chop it up as best i can)

1 eggplant, thinly sliced, salted, left to stand for 5-10 minutes, then rinsed

1 fennel, thinly sliced

1 jar/can crushed tomatoes

2 bay leaves

1 veggie bouillon cube

pepper

salt

chili flakes

whatever herbs you have around (my thyme is still growing strong, even tho' it was covered with snow for a month)

bread crumbs for topping

lasagne pasta (if you use fresh, you don't need to boil it first, if you use the dried kind, do give a boil to al dente)

1 recipe of bechamel sauce (i'm linking you because i always make husband make this and haven't got the slightest idea how it's done.)  i only know that to that recipe, i would add a cup of grated cheese (we use prima donna - an aged gouda) and a good grating of fresh nutmeg, because that's what husband does.

sauté off your leeks and garlic in a good glug of olive oil. add the grated carrots, zucchini and parsnips. after they begin to soften, add the chopped tomato and the can of tomatoes, plus bay leaf, bouillon cube and herbs. salt and pepper to taste. if it doesn't look liquidy enough, you can add a bit of water - i usually rinse the can and just toss that half a can of water in with all of the goodness that remains on the can. simmer the sauce while you thinly slice the eggplant and fennel. use a mandolin if you dare (after my recent adventures in felting, which resulted in quite a lot of needle-related injuries, i stayed away from the mandolin this time).

next, layer your fresh lasagne pasta in the bottom of a pan you've buttered or given a coat of olive oil, on top of that, a layer of thinly-sliced eggplant and about half of your sliced fennel. spoon the tomato sauce over it, then another layer of pasta, eggplant, fennel and tomato sauce. ladle the creamy, cheesy bechamel over the top of it, using a knife to encourage it to sink down into all of the nooks and crannies. top with bread crumbs and bake in a 180°C/350°F oven for 45 minutes to an hour - until it's simmering and bubbling and you simply can't stand to wait for it any longer.

serve it with a simple salad. it tastes even better the next day, but you may not have leftovers.

* * *

i'm often home alone when it comes to lunchtime (such is often the fate of the independent entrepreneur). i find it easier to do a vegetarian meal for myself when my family's not around. (i wonder why that is?) but just because you're alone, doesn't mean you can't make yourself something healthy and delicious.

beans for lunch: a solitary lunch

400 grams of dried beans (pinto, black, white, red - whatever you have on hand)

1 carrot, cut into chunks

1 parsnip, cut into chunks

2 bay leaves

10-12 whole peppercorns

1 handful of fresh (or dried) thyme

1 small onion

3 cloves of garlic

salt & pepper

1 avocado

1 small red onion, diced

soak the beans overnight and discard the liquid, rinsing the beans. place them in a pot with fresh liquid and throw in the rest of the ingredients. cook them until the beans are tender (45 minutes - 1 hour).

dice your onion and avocado and combine it with a few spoonsful of the cooked beans. you can either include the carrots and parsnips as you ladle the beans into your bowl, or not, depending on your taste. i used a slotted spoon to avoid the "soup" the beans are in, as i wanted a hearty lunch, not a soup, but you could leave the liquid there and have more of a soup.  there will be plenty of beans left over for another use...a salad, or for lunch tomorrow, or to be mashed into refried beans for tacos later with the family.

you could put on a dollop of yogurt or creme fraiche and eat it greedily for your solitary lunch. and it would be even easier and quicker with a can of beans.

* * *

for more goodness, check out this new food blog by mari, she's got a couple of vegetarian recipes wherein she (mostly) resists adding bacon.

and some properly vegan recipes that inspire here.

12 Days of Christmas Baking

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas

I undertook to bake . . .

twelve pecan tassies

eleven mincemeat pinwheels

ten cardamom buttons

nine molasses crinkles

eight oatmeal chewies

seven gingerbread trees

six cranberry loaves

five butter stars

four gingerbread houses

three dozen spritz

a double batch of sugar cookies

and a whole lot of Texas fruitcake!

The first day of Christmas doesn't actually start until the 25th,

but when it comes to Christmas baking, I'm pretty much done by that day. 

I might manage one more batch of mince pies, and maybe another batch of English toffee for my mother-in-law, but all of my baking efforts come in the run-up to the Christmas season.

For weeks now, my kitchen has resembled an amateur bakery . . . and feel free to call me crazy, because all of my friends (and my husband) do.

I suppose we all have our favourite Christmas traditions -- the ones that make us feel cosy, and put us into the seasonal spirit -- and for me, it is all about a warm kitchen and the alchemy of flour and sugar.  I'm sure it goes back to my childhood, when I spent many happy hours decorating sugar cookies and cutting out gingerbread men with my mother.  These days, some of my best moments come when I'm in the  company of my own children and we are chatting and laughing and listening to Christmas music -- whilst absorbed in our culinary tasks.  I know that I will treasure the memory of the snowy day when my teenaged daughter's social plans were ruined and so we spent a long afternoon making candy:  peanut brittle, English toffee, and a family favorite called "Oklahoma Brown" candy.

It's not that we don't sample the treats, but when it comes to Christmas baking, I definitely prefer to give . . . rather than to keep it all in the family.  I make cookies platters for friends and teachers, and no one can enter my house without me breaking out the fruitcake and making little gift bags to take home.

This year will go down as the "Fruitcake Christmas."  I dug up an old recipe that my grandparents used to love:  they called it Fort Worth fruitcake, and my mom told me that the recipe was an annual request in the Fort Worth, Texas newspaper.  I've made a few changes in the original recipe . . . you know that saying that necessity is the mother of invention? . . . and so I've called it Texas Fruitcake.  Unlike the English versions of fruitcake, it doesn't have raisins, currants or mixed peel.  Instead you get lots of moist dates and apricots, and plenty of pecans -- which are a major crop in Texas.  I've tested this recipe on ALL sorts of people this Christmas, and everyone seems to love it.  I've become a victim of my own success, though -- and I keep on having to make more of the stuff because I will insist on giving it away.  I've made at least 20 loaves of it, maybe more; I lost track a long time ago. 

Texas Fruitcake

Ingredients:

1 pound of stoned and chopped dates

1/2 pound candied cherries

1/2 pound chopped apricots

1 pound of pecans, coarsely chopped

1 cup of sugar

1 cup of flour

2 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg

1 teaspoon vanilla

4 eggs

Method:

This recipe will make either one large angel food tube pan, two medium loaves, or four small loaves.  The cooking times are more or less the same for all of them -- two hours, taking away about ten minutes if you use the small loaf pans.  Prepare all of the pans by using a bit of butter or shortening and then lining with parchment paper.

Cut fruit and nuts into small pieces and put into a large bowl.  Note:  If you cut them by hand you will have more quality control, but you may also use the food processor -- except for the cherries which really need to be cut up by hand.  Be careful with the dates, too -- as they can easily turn to mush.

Sift the dry ingredients together and mix with the fruit and nuts -- using a wooden spoon. 

Beat the eggs and vanilla together and pour the liquid mixture over the fruit/four mix.

Mix very well -- with a wooden spoon, or even with your hands.

Pack the mixture into the prepared pans.

Bake at a very low oven -- 250 F/125 C for approximately two hours.

Cool the cake in the pan, and then remove and wrap well in cling film.

Some commentary:  When it is fresh out of the oven, this cake is absolutely delicious.  You may treat it like a traditional fruitcake though, and "feed" it with brandy (sherry, rum, whatever) for several months or weeks before eating.  It will get darker with age, and the flavour and texture will change -- but both versions are great.  Yesterday, we had friends over for mince pies and mulled wine and I cut into a loaf that I've been "steeping" for almost two months now.  (Sadly, there isn't a trace of it left now.) 

If forced to choose, though, I would probably opt for the non-alcoholic version -- which is great for afternoon tea or even breakfast-on-the-run.  At the beginning of the week, I had to catch an early train to London and I brought along several slices to share with a friend for our commuter breakfast.  She was begging me for the recipe . . . really, it's that good.

Although it may seem like it's a bit late for fruitcake season, you might as well treat yourself because we still have wintry January and February to get through.

This is really such an easy-peasy recipe, and did you notice?  No butter or other fat in it. 

Perfect for Christmas -- or the upcoming season of austerity.

Happy Christmas baking!

bûche de nöel or how to look good this christmas

last year, about this time, i made a reference to nigella's fabulous bûche de nöel, without sharing the recipe with you. since i spent my morning making a double one to take to sabin's school play this evening and had a chance to photograph the process, i thought i'd share it with you now...just in time for you to look positively heroic this christmas. because this cake is a veritable masterpiece when it's done and it's dead easy. plus it doesn't contain any flour, so even those who live the gluten free life can partake.

as usual, i couldn't leave even the goddess-like perfection of nigella alone and i have made a teency weency adjustment to the recipe.

nigella's bûche de nöel a la julie

the cake:

6 eggs, separated

150g sugar

50g cocoa powder

1 tsp. vanilla extract

3-5 teaspoons of powdered sugar to decorate

the icing:

175g good quality dark chocolate, chopped
250g powered sugar

225g butter

1 T vanilla extract

the extra julie touch:

1/2 liter of cream, whipped

preheat your oven to 180°C/375°F.

whisk the egg whites until they are thick and and beginning to peak, then add 50g of the sugar and keep whisking 'til stiff peaks form. if you're like me, you let your kitchenaid do this bit while you're working on the next part.

whisk the egg yolks and the rest of the sugar until they are a creamy pale yellow, add the vanilla, whisk a bit more, then sieve the cocoa powder in and mix it well.

put a big dollop of the egg white mixture into your chocolatey egg yolks, mixing well, then fold the chocolate mixture carefully into the rest of your egg whites, taking care not to lose too much air.

pour the mixture into a swiss roll tin lined with baking paper. a little trick to keep the baking parchment from rolling up on you while you're trying to pour (seriously, why isn't part of pregnancy the growing of a 3rd arm - wouldn't that be handy?), you can put a little dab of butter in each corner and stick the baking paper to it.

bake for about 20 minutes until it looks done. i realize this sounds vague, but trust me, you'll be able to see when it's done.  remove it from the oven and let it cool very briefly (and i do mean very briefly) before turning it onto a new piece of baking paper and peeling off the baking paper backing.

don't let it get too cool before you do this, or you'll have trouble getting the paper off without taking quite a lot of cake with it. trust me, i've made the mistake so you don't have to.

while it's cooling. melt your chocolate in a double boiler (or in a metal bowl over a pan of boiling water, like i do).

put the powdered sugar down in your food processor and whip it up to get rid of any lumps. then add your softened butter and let the food processor do the work for you. add the vanilla once the butter and sugar are well-mixed.  once the chocolate is melted and cooled down a little bit (so it doesn't melt your butter), add it to the butter/sugar mixture and again, let the food processor do the work for you.

while it's doing the work, let your kitchenaid whip up some cream for you - but do keep an eye on it, you're not making butter here (again, i've made the mistake so you don't have to).

put the cake on a good work surface and spread a thin layer of the chocolate icing on top. on top of that, spread a good layer of whipped cream. it hit me today, when i was a little concerned about not having enough of the chocolate icing (i was making two cakes and doubled the icing recipe, but it didn't look like enough), that you could use the hazelnut goodness of nutella here on the inside, just to add another note to the cake. i did, however, have plenty of icing, so i needn't have worried.

i found the cake too heavy and dense the first time i made it, without the whipped cream, tho' nigella's original recipe doesn't call for it. i find it makes it lighter and more sort of dreamy and delicious.

let the baking paper help you carefully roll the cake up. then carefully cut each end at an angle (strangely, i failed to photograph this bit), so you can place it beside your main "branch" as smaller "branches."

place the cut ends at angles against the main cake - my cake here is actually two cakes, so yours will be half the size of this. spread the remainder of the chocolate icing over the cake, covering and using extra bits to stick your branches on. use a spatula and a toothpick to make it look like the bark of a tree.

dust it with powdered sugar so it looks like new fallen snow and decorate around it with greens and pinecones gathered outdoors.

it may sound a bit fussy, but you'll be amazed how easy it really is.  and your friends and family will never know (unless you tell them). so you can act like you slaved all day and get people to fetch you glasses of wine while you relax.

lucia bread

december 13 is st. lucia day in sweden- that means beautiful blonde girls wearing angelic white robes and crowns of live candles and it also means the most lovely, golden, saffron and cardamon-scented buns. i made them for the first time this year (despite more than a decade married to an actual (half) swede.  the recipe comes from danish t.v. cook camilla plum's christmas cookbook - jul.

luciaboller (that's the danish version of it)

25 g yeast

4 dl warm milk

1 tsp. salt

1 tsp. saffron

1 tsp. ground cardamon

1/3 C sugar

2 and a half C white flour (preferably organic)

100 g melted butter

1 egg, beaten, to brush on before baking.

mix the yeast and milk together while you grind the saffron with a spoon of sugar in a pestle and mortar, add the cardamon to the saffron mixture. add the remainder of the sugar to the milk and yeast mixture, then add the spices and begin to slowly add the flour. mix in the melted butter (taking care not to add it while it's too hot or you'll kill the yeast. the dough should be a bit sticky, so take care not to add too much flour.

allow it to rise for several hours in a warm place or overnight in a cooler place. form into rather pagan curly swirls, allow them to rise, brush them with the beaten egg and bake at 180°C/375°F for 20 or so minutes (my oven may be a bit fast, but let them get browned and lovely).  serve them with a pot of fresh tea. 

makes 18-24 buns (depending on how creative you get with your shapes/how much you let your 9-year-old help).

happy st. lucia day!

nordic wintry goodness

i recently got my soul back from the devil and it has caused me to return to my (still horrible calamine-lotion-pink) kitchen. we've been buried in a glorious blanket of snow for several weeks already, tho' rain came overnight and most of it has disappeared and turned everything to a muddy muck outdoors. however, the mud hasn't dampened my spirits and i cooked up a warming winter dinner for us this evening.  a nordic tagine--of all things--combining sweetness and meat a la morocco, but with the nordic note of elderflower. it was a recipe inspired by earthy danish t.v. cook camilla plum's jul - a christmas cookbook. to accompany it, a hearty, simple brown rice and a wintry salad of red cabbage and pomegranate.

nordic tagine

1 beef roast - you can do with a cheaper cut, because you're going to slow cook it 'til it's falling apart

4-5 small red onions, sliced into small boats

1 head of garlic, peeled

1 whole red chili

juice and zest of one lemon

a moroccan-inspired rub for the meat consisting of coriander, cumin, cardamon, salt, pepper (you can buy them ready-made or throw things together in your mortar and pestle yourself)

1 750ml bottle of elderflower cordial.

1 generous splash of balsamic vinegar

4-5 T of olive oil

sauté the onions and garlic in olive oil, then brown the roast (into which you've rubbed the spice mixture). toss in the chili and then pour over the elderflower cordial, lemon juice and balsamic vinegar. if it doesn't cover the roast, fill the remainder up with water, so the roast is covered, then put it into an oven-proof pot with a lid (my red le cruset was perfect) and pop it into a 150°C (325°F) oven to slow-simmer for 3 hours.

when there's about an hour to go, cook the brown rice in double the liquid to the amount of rice. i throw in a beef bouillon cube for flavor. it takes 30 or so minutes to cook. when it's nearly done, i throw in a generous hunk of butter. 

like most tagines, the meat dish is sweeter than our northern palates are accustomed to, but the aromatic richness is balanced by the heartiness of the rice and it seems just right on these cold, wintery days.

red cabbage & pomegranate salad

1 small red cabbage, shredded

1 tart apple, grated

1 pomegranate

3 T vanilla olive oil (worth searching for in high end grocery stores)

2 T balsamic vinegar

toss the cabbage and apple into a food processor.  cut the pomegranate in half and wack it over the bowl with a wooden spoon to spill all of the ruby gorgeousness of the pomegranate seeds over the cabbage and apple. if you can find the vanilla olive oil, it's definitely worth it. otherwise, throw a vanilla pod into a bottle of good quality olive oil and make your own...it's fantastic with winter salads.

the crunch and sharpness of the cabbage salad is the perfect counterbalance to the fragrant sweetness of the tagine. 

* * *

coming soon...st. lucia bread, just in time for the swedish celebration.

and it feels very good to be back.