A Wassail Trifle

 

First layer: Polish gingerbread hearts

I do make things that aren't trifles, although based on my recent blogging output, I can understand if you don't believe me at all. But I saw these lovely Polish iced gingerbread hearts (the brand name is Kopernik) in the Christmas clearance sales and they spoke to me very clearly and said they wanted to be trifle. They are very nice with a cup of tea, too, if you don't want the rest of this hassle. The flavour reminds me a bit of Swiss Basler Läckerli, but not as chewy a texture and no candied fruit.

Once I had settled on trifle, I thought about other flavours. I really liked the layers of citrus in the Jubilee trifle last year, and the citrus is so lovely at this time of year, but I really wasn't feeling that with gingerbread. The answer was obvious. Pears. And then I changed my mind because I had 5 very nice Egremont Russet apples in the fridge. 

Second layer: Brown sugar roasted apples

I roasted the apples with brown sugar and cinnamon according to a Diana Henry recipe - although hers is for unpeeled, uncored, halved apples and I did mine in chunks for ease of eating.

Then a layer of jelly - also based on a Diana Henry recipe - flavoured with a traditionally-made hard cider and Somerset cider brandy.

Once the jelly was set, I added a maple & cinnamon creme diplomat, and when that was set (not, I confess, quite as firmly as I wanted) I topped it with whipped cream, sprinkles, toasted almond flakes and some mini apples preserved in Calvados syrup. Very pretty, very delicious, not too sweet.

As I was putting all the layers together, it occurred to me that it was more-or-less seasonal too. Not because apples are in season now, but because a couple of weeks ago we were supposed to go to a local Iron Age Hillfort for a Wassail. The Wassail hasn't run for a few years because of Covid, but this year it was back on. But the week it was supposed to happen the ground was too soggy and it wasn't safe, so they postponed, then this week it was too cold and the group we were going with were dropping like flies with various illnesses and work commitments. But the combination here of cider, apples and spices is very much in keeping with a Wassail. So hopefully this trifle will be taken as an offering by any deities listening, and help produce a good harvest of apples this year.

Complete!

Jubilee Trifle

Trifle - with my trifle spoon - on the buffet. Picture by the party host, my friend Sharon.

This weekend the UK is celebrating the Queen's Platinum Jubilee. 70 years on the throne. I was trying to remember the last royal occasion where there was an extra Bank Holiday (making a 4 day weekend) and garden parties and so forth, and while I could remember that it rained a lot and I wore a very good t-shirt and made a dessert with lots of berries in a Union Jack pattern, I couldn't remember what it was actually for.

Turns out it was the Diamond Jubilee, 10 years ago. And to be honest, what I said then - that I am conflicted, that a hereditary head of state is obnoxious, that the country is in a very bad way and this feels like a very expensive distraction technique - all still stands.

This time around, Fortnum and Mason ran a competition to find a Platinum Pudding - a dessert to commemorate the occasion, with a recipe that could be made all around the country. The winner was a lemon and amaretto trifle, inspired by the lemon posset the Queen had at her wedding. 

I love a St Clements Trifle - I mean, I love a citrus dessert anyway, and I not only love the way lemon provides sprightliness and orange rounds out the flavour, but I love that in the UK the combination of lemon and orange is named for a nursery rhyme - but I didn't particularly care for the winning recipe. So for the garden party we attended, I took the inspiration and ran with it.

Slices of lemon Swiss roll (bought) around the base and sides of my trifle bowl, left open in the fridge for a couple of hours to dry out a little. 

Then a very small sprinkle of Cointreau. 

Then a lemon and orange jelly (same method as the winning trifle recipe, but less sugar syrup and more fruit juices) with orange supreme suspended in it. I let the jelly start to set before I poured it into the trifle bowl, so that it wouldn't make the cake completely soggy and so the orange supreme wouldn't all sink to the bottom. 

I let that layer set completely while I made the next layer, a lemon and orange creme diplomat, made by cludging together this recipe for lemon pastry cream and this recipe for vanilla creme diplomat.

This is not a dessert to make when you get home late from work. This needs time and many bowls.

After I spread the creme diplomat layer over the set jelly layer, I let the whole thing chill over night.

This morning I scattered shreds of candied calamondin zest over the creme diplomat, and whipped cream, stabilised with cornflour a la Rose Levy Berenbaum's method and flavoured with a little of the syrup from the calamondins.

FINALLY I garnished it with a lot of sprinkles and shards of citrus meringue, made with 2 of the egg whites left over from making the creme diplomat. 

And fortunately it was absolutely delicious and well worth the effort. The layers had just the right balance of stability and tenderness and the layers of citrus flavours were really fresh and bright.

If it isn't vulgarly over-dressed, is it even a trifle?

Exploring the area, one pub at a time

We've been in the new house for about six weeks now. Things are gradually coming together. There are still a lot of boxes about the place, but we are slowly buying furniture to unpack into. We still say, almost daily, "Do you know where that thing is?" but with increasing frequency we're able to say "Yes, I unpacked it and put it here". The last day of the move was more than a bit fraught, so we're realising some of the things that didn't come with us and with fading optimism expecting to find other possessions.

We went out for dinner the first night - The Three Tuns

As we're completely new to the area, we're having to learn our way around. Bless google maps. And pretty much every time we set foot outside the house it's uncharted territory for us. We've figured out where the supermarkets and Majestic are. I have found a hairdresser. We've started what will be the work of years, investigating the local pubs.

The first night we were in the house, we went out for dinner. We were sleeping on a mattress on the floor, the cat was sulking, we didn't have a fridge and hadn't unpacked any of the kitchen stuff, so cooking really wasn't an option. It's a bit strange, moving from a place where there were about a dozen places (of varying quality...) to eat within a 10 minute walk, to a place where you could walk to a restaurant, if you were really feeling motivated and had half an hour to spare. The Three Tuns is the closest to us, about a 5 minute drive away. We'd been told that it's almost perennially under new management but that the food was generally pretty good. It was. A bit overwrought - every dish we tried had one element too many - but reasonably priced and served with the kindness we needed in our equally overwrought post-move state. I had a potato and goats cheese rouladey thing, which very nice, and a massively filling but slightly undercooked fish pie served with an utterly sublime hollandaise.

Halloumi fries - The Falcon

Paul's gone from an almost 4 hour daily commute on motorways to a 50 minute daily commute on pleasant country roads. He seems to spend most of that commute now identifying pubs he wants to try. The Falcon was one of those - it's on a bend in the river, which always adds tone to a pub. To be honest, I can't remember what I had to eat and I certainly didn't take a picture of it. Ham, egg & chips, maybe? But the big thing were the absolutely delicious halloumi fries we shared to start. They did them so well we're pretty keen to go back for a Sunday lunch.

Arancini at The Horse & Jockey

Our first (and so far only) crack at a Sunday pub lunch was one of our misguided ones where we only decided at about 11am that we wanted a pub lunch. So we made a list of about 5 places and called down it until we could get a reservation. We ended up at The Horse & Jockey and weren't sorry for it. Being offered delicious little chicken and lemon thyme arancini before our meals arrived was an unexpected but lovely refinement. The food was very good, although the shell-on prawn garnishing the prawn cocktail was watery and flabby, and I don't think the oil was quite hot enough to fry my fish and chips. Paul's roast beef looked excellent though, with proper attention to the veg.

Old school prawn cocktail at The Horse & Jockey

It was my birthday last week, so we had a good excuse to give another pub a go. The Plough came recommended by Sharon and the menu looked good so we made reservations. The food was excellent - I had a lovely fig, blue cheese and hazelnut salad to start, followed by grilled plaice with herb butter, chips and a beautiful sprouting broccoli dish. Unfortunately the service let them down a bit - our waiter seemed very nervous and untrained - and the people at the table next to us were loud and a bit abrasive. You'd think they'd never seen people taking photos of their tea before.

Fig, blue cheese and hazelnuts at The Plough

Grilled fillet of plaice

On Saturday, we made yet another trip to IKEA. Even more hellish than usual, as we realised we couldn't actually fit the stuff we wanted to buy in the car. It was 2.45pm by the time we got to Ye Three Fyshes and the kitchen was closing at 3, so we quickly ordered beers and sandwiches. The fish finger sandwich was very good, but I think they cut corners with the sausage one - it seemed very rusky and the skins were flabby. And they hadn't washed the salad for the garnish, so it was gritty. But the rest of the menu looks quite good, so we may get back there for another go at some point. When we've worked through a few more places.

Massive sandwiches at Ye Three Fyshes

The Final Countdown

We have a lawn!

On Monday we'll be moving into the new house, so while there will be a final flurry of using bits up and whatnot, I really don't think I will be documenting it. So next time I post it'll probably be exploring a new-to-us pub while we try to avoid making the spanking new kitchen dirty.

ham hock terrine

I am faintly disappointed that things never got completely crazy with the flavour combinations. Although the tub labelled chicken stock which turned out to be blood orange sorbet, and the tub that I thought was chicken stock which turned out to be a rather lovely Asian shortrib soup almost got me into trouble. It was a valuable lesson in accurate labelling.

Ploughmans

This was a particularly good Ploughmans. Bread (using some of my baguette dough as a starter, and more of the chapatti flour), piccalilli, made by me a while ago, cheddar (because I like it), a ham hock terrine (using a ham hock I'd had in the freezer and some gelatine leaves) and a fresh green salad (finishing a jar of capers).

Lasagne

I wouldn't serve this lasagne to an Italian, but it was tasty! And it used a bottle of ratatouille, a packet of bacon, some minced beef and a packet of "fresh" (but frozen) pasta sheets.

And this version of an Eton mess used frozen cranberries, frozen eggwhites and coconut. The tangy fruit was a particularly good foil for the sweet coconut meringues.

Bank holiday barbecue

 

It's a bank holiday weekend, and unfortunately it has played into the British bank holiday stereotype of shit weather. We haven't had much in the way of rain for weeks, but it's been threatening all weekend and just been unpleasant to be outside in.

Pulled harissa lamb

We could've made plans to do something indoors, but we haven't, despite actually getting as far as looking at cinema screentimes. So I have been reading and Paul's been whacking aliens on the computer and the cat has been patrolling the lawn in between lengthy naps.

On Saturday, though, we did a nice, long, low & slow barbecue. A shoulder of British lamb, seasoned with salt, pepper and cumin, smoked gently for 5 hours, then wrapped in harissa paste and vegetable broth and cooked for another 2 hours before resting for an hour. We had it piled onto bread flavoured with dukkah, hummus laden with wild garlic leaves and grilled courgettes in a preserved lemon and coriander dressing. It tasted perfectly springlike even if the weather felt very much like late winter.

Easter Weekend

We're on the last day of the blissful 4 day Easter bank holiday weekend. I love this weekend. It's spring, so there are lots of flowers blossoming and a sense of promise and excitement, but at the same time there's no real pressure to do anything.

saffron

My cooking for the weekend made respectful nods to a variety of traditions without being absolutely traditional.

Saffron, sour cherry and pistachio buns

Saffron crocuses are an autumn crocus, but at the same time crocuses are such a sign of spring that it felt right and proper to flavour some sweet buns with saffron. The dough was studded with sour cherries, then rolled around a pistachio and cinnamon filling and finished after baking with a hot, tangy lemon glaze. They didn't feel a million miles from a hot cross bun, but also reminiscent of baklava. Just the thing for the luxury of lingering over coffee on a long weekend.

I also made a savoury pie. Sort of nodding to some of the Mediterranean ones. This was filled with ricotta, feta, watercress, chard and wild garlic, with eggs cracked on top of the filling to bake under the crust. I should have blind-baked the base - the bottom was a bit soggy - but the flavours were excellent.

On Saturday we went for a walk from Latimer through the Chess Valley. About half way along there is a watercress farm (the last working watercress farm in the Chilterns), with a farm stall and honesty box. The farmer had just brought out a fresh batch of watercress so we grabbed a bag.

Watercress farm

That watercress formed the base of our salad on Saturday night (with a beautiful Galician bone-in sirloin steak). And left enough for a second salad on Sunday - with radishes and British asparagus (asparagus season, hurrah!). Which was all we needed to accompany a boned leg of suckling pig, rolled around a wild garlic and fennel paste, and barbecued for 6 hours until the meat was jelly-soft and the skin crisp as glass. The leftover pork will form our lunch in an hour or so, but I haven't quite decided how. There's plenty of time to think.

Three ways with cockerel

Last Easter we bought a cockerel for the first time - we had it roasted and did a couple of things with the leftovers and it was delicious. Unfortunately they only seem to be available at Christmas and Easter, so we had a long wait for another.

We had other plans for our big Christmas meal, and a 4kg chook isn't really the most practical thing for a family of two, so I split it into a crown, leg and thigh joints and wings, freezing the pieces separately, along with a bag containing the giblets, back and wingtips, which will eventually become stock.

The first meal we had from it was Simon Hopkinson's recipe for coq au vin. Which was, of course, as a Simon Hopkinson recipe much more involved than you would think a chicken stew needs to be, but the fiddle pays off. It was definitely the nicest coq au vin I've ever made.

A couple of days after that, we had the crown, simply roasted. It was big enough that we only ate one of the breasts (with pigs in blankets, because one of Paul's colleagues was pitying him that he hadn't had any over the Christmas period).

The leftover coq au vin and roast breast meat became a pretty amazing chicken pie, with a bit of proscuitto added for extra oomph.

I kept aside some of the coq au vin gravy to make a dish Hopkinson recommends, of poached eggs in the gravy. Which was nice but not that special and extremely unphotogenic. So let's just finish with a slice of pie.

Winter Solstice

Chaenomeles in flower

The weather at the moment is a bit ridiculous. The Japanese quince is back in flower, the crab apple bonsai is coming into bud about a week after the last leaves fell, and on Saturday evening we barbecued. It's mild, wet and very windy.

Crab apple in bud

Barbecue, 19th December 2015

Barbecued lamb chops on smoked cheese and garlic flatbread

But today is the longest night. England is an old country and it's hard not to feel some of the traditions and archetypes that have been soaking into the land for centuries, so we always try to do something to welcome back the sun. And for Paul, pretty much any old English ritual requires boar and mead. In this case, a joint of wild boar, seasoned porchetta-style and wrapped in some pork rind from another occasion, to help keep the lean meat moist. I baked some sausage-stuffed Bramley apples alongside, and made a dish of Brussels sprouts and chestnuts with garlic butter. We drank some mead. We banished the dark.

The Wicked Lady, Wheathampstead

We didn't renew our cherry tree rental this year. We still have a lot of preserves, frozen fruit and a couple of pies left from last year and Paul decided that he really doesn't like cherries enough to go through all that again. What he does like is the occasional weekend dessert of fresh, unsweetened berries, bathed in a hefty slosh of cold double cream.

I did some research and found a really nice-sounding Pick Your Own farm a pleasant drive away from us. It had the advantage of a variety of soft fruits, whereas the ones closer to us seem to mostly be strawberries. I liked the idea of some red and black currants and some raspberries as well.

What with one thing and another we weren't going to leave the house until late morning, so we felt that the best thing would be to find a pub for lunch before we went fruit picking. It wouldn't have done at all to have a car full of berries languishing in the sun.

The Wicked Lady is not far from the PYO, and both the pub name and the menu sounded pretty good to me. And then as we pulled into the car park we saw a Hendricks Gin bus which I thought was an excellent omen.

They were fully booked inside, but were doing table service outside, where they were having a summer party. As well as the Hendricks bus, they had a little gazebo set up with a waitress pouring Pimms, there were giant games of jenga and battleship and children were having their faces painted.

I had a Hendricks and tonic while Paul had a pint of Doom Bar. As soon as I spotted the guinea fowl kiev on the menu I knew Paul was lost and that we would not be having a quick sandwich.

So I started with a crab and crayfish pot. It was a bit too mayonnaisey, but the flavour was excellent. Paul had brie in a pumpkin seed crust. The crust was crisp and greaseless but there was too much over-sweet chutney for his taste.

I dithered for a while over my main course before choosing corned beef hash topped with a fried egg. The corned beef was excellent, punctuated by little coriander seeds, but I think in a perfect world there would have been half the amount of potato and the rest of the bulk provided by some shredded kale or something. It was a lot of potato per bite.

And in a perfect world they would not have committed the sin of halving the kiev. The whole point of kiev is that sensuous moment when you cut into it and the garlicky butter pours out. But the guinea fowl was moist and tender and the sauce, roesti and veg were all just what he wanted.

Just as the band were starting up we left. Unfortunately we took one look at the queue of families at the PYO and headed home - far too many people had the same idea as we did. We'll try again another weekend and I suspect we will have another lunch at The Wicked Lady.

Mutton samosas and lamb burgers. Tasty Easy Fun

When I posted about the launch of the Lamb. Tasty Easy Fun campaign last week I mentioned that I had the recipe for the lamb burgers that Cyrus Todiwala had developed for the campaign, so I am going to share that with you today. I also have a recipe of my own to share, which is really delicious and I hope you will enjoy it.

Spiced lamb burgers stuffed with spiced blue cheese by Cyrus Todiwala for www.tastyeasylamb.co.uk

Blue cheese stuffed lamb burger (makes 6 burgers)

Burger ingredients
675g lamb mince
1 finely chopped medium onion
2-3 cloves minced garlic
1 x 2" piece minced fresh ginger
1 slender-type minced green chilli (seeds included)
1tbs ground cumin powder
1 1/2tbs ground coriander powder
2tbs tomato puree
3 heaped tbs finely chopped fresh coriander
1tsp garam masala powder
1-2tsp salt
1tsp crushed black pepper

Stuffing ingredients
150g blue cheese, crumbled
2 finely chopped green chillies
1tbs finely chopped fresh coriander
2 finely chopped cloves of garlic

Rolls or bread, to serve

In a large bowl gently mix all the burger ingredients together. Divide into 6 evenly-sized burgers.

In a small bowl blend the stuffing ingredients together and shape into equal-sized balls to stuff the burgers.

Make an indentation in the centre of each burger with your thumb and fill with a ball of the cheese. Make sure the cheese is completely encased when you form the burger.

Cook on a prepared grill or barbecue for 6-8 minutes on each side or until any meat juices run clear.

Serve with your favourite bread or rolls with some sliced tomato, onion and lettuce and some relish.

Mutton keema

At the campaign launch Cyrus spoke so knowledgeably about the different breeds of sheep and the contribution sheep farming makes in communities with marginal agricultural land. You can raise sheep where no crops will grow, like the sturdy Herdwick sheep in the Lake District, and one job in farming stimulates something like seven jobs in the local community - all very worthwhile.

So I was feeling a bit inspired to make something from British mutton (as I mentioned before, we don't tend to eat lamb early in the season) with some of the spices Cyrus talked about, and Paul has been begging me to have another crack at samosas for him. I placed an order for some mutton shoulder with Turner & George, knowing that you get a card telling you what breed your meat is and where it was raised. And it turned out to be Herdwick, which was pretty perfect really.

Waiting for frying

The keema on its own is excellent, so if you can't be arsed folding and frying, just make that and have it with some rice or naan. You could bake them too, if you didn't feel like frying. And you can definitely use readily available minced lamb instead of mutton - don't be deterred!

Mutton samosas (makes about 18)

For the keema
600g minced mutton or lamb
1 small onion
3 cloves garlic
1" piece of fresh ginger
1-2 chillies (I used 3 red chillies with hardly any heat at all - you know your palate)
2 tbs vegetable oil
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp turmeric
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp ground cloves
1 tsp ground black pepper
1/2 - 1 tsp sea salt flakes (to taste)
1 handful frozen peas
1 tsp garam masala powder

For the samosas
Filo pastry
Melted butter
2 eggwhites, lightly beaten
oil for shallow frying

Roughly chop the onion, garlic, ginger and chillies. In a food processor, blend them to a paste with the vegetable oil (and a slosh of water if it needs loosening). If you don't have a food processor just chop them as finely as you can (I think it is nicer to have a fine texture in a little parcel, but if you are just eating the keema on its own, you can have everything a bit coarser).

In a sauté pan or deep skillet, fry the onion paste, stirring to stop it from catching, for a few minutes or until it starts to brown. Add the cumin, turmeric, cinnamon, cloves and pepper and fry for just a minute until the powders are fragrant, then add the minced mutton. Brown the meat, breaking it up with a spoon. Add a little water if it starts to dry out too much. Add the peas and season with salt to taste. Cook for another 5-10 minutes until it is cooked through and fairly dry. Sprinkle with the garam masala. If you are going to make the samosas, allow to cool completely.

Filo has a slightly unfair reputation for being tricky. You can't take it too slowly but it honestly isn't that temperamental. To fold the samosas, take a sheet of filo and cover the rest of the pack with a slightly damp tea towel. With a sharp knife, cut the sheet into 3 long strips. I was a bit paranoid about getting them to seal properly, so I put a little eggwhite at each end of the strip, with some melted butter along the length for lusciousness and flake. Put about a heaped tablespoon of the cold keema at one end of a strip, fold the corner of the filo over it and then just fold and tuck to the end of the sheet. Repeat until you've used all the keema or all of the filo, whichever comes first. I had leftover filo so I made a little cherry strudel as well, because it doesn't store well.

Either shallow fry or bake the samosas immediately, or keep in the fridge until you are ready. If you need to keep them in the fridge, put a layer of baking parchment between each layer of samosas on your tray to stop them from sticking to each other. If you are baking them, brush the tops with a little extra melted butter before they go in the oven (I think 10-15 minutes at 200C should do it).

I served them with Mr Todiwala's minted mango and ginger relish and a sort of chaat-y salad of layers of boiled potato, yoghurt, fresh coriander chutney, chickpeas and other such deliciousness.