I’m a child of the eighties and as such I will always have a soft spot for Angel Delight, specifically butterscotch Angel Delight. I know it’s horribly artificial but it’s also delicious and sweet and fluffy (and easy to make). I’ve made it a little […]
I love the fact that citrus fruit are at their peak during the most miserable part of the year. It’s so wonderful to be able to enjoy something so bright and zingy and fresh amidst all the heavy winter food. Citrus fruit are like a little edible promise that one day there’ll be sunshine again.
Blood oranges, despite their slightly gruesome name, are surely the most beautiful of all of the citrus fruits and their fragrant sweetness lends itself wonderfully to this light, yet warming pudding. These really are ‘magic’ too, good enough to grace the tables of the Great Hall at the end of term feast! The wet, lumpy batter separates in the oven to form a light, almost souffle-like sponge and a delicate orange custard, like a creme anglaise.
If the tops get too brown during cooking then carefully open the oven door (you don’t want them to deflate) and cover them with some foil.
makes 8 individual or 1 larger pudding
50g softened butter
zest and juice of two blood oranges (about 80ml)
3 eggs, separated
50g plain flour
Pre-heat the oven to 180°c and butter 6-8 ramekins or a larger baking dish.
Beat together the butter, sugar and finely grated zest from the oranges. Separate the eggs, setting the whites aside in a clean bowl and adding the yolks to the sugar and butter. Beat them in and then follow them with the milk and the juice from the oranges. Sift in the flour and stir it into the batter.
Whisk the egg whites until they hold soft peaks. Take a large spoonful of the egg white and whisk it into the batter. Fold in the remaining egg white, a few spoonfuls at a time until you have a wet, fairly lumpy mixture. It’ll look terrible and you’ll probably be cursing me but don’t panic. Pour the batter into the prepared dishes filling them to about 1cm below the rim. Place them in a water bath and bake them for 35 minutes for individual puddings or 50 minutes for a larger one. The top should be quite golden and the puddings should have separated into two layers, one light and fluffy, almost souffle-like and a sweet orange custard layer below.
I’m totally converted to vegan banana bread, I always get better results from it than from my more traditional recipe and I’m really not sure that I can tell the difference as far as the flavour is concerned. That’s especially true of this recipe, which […]
This is such a classic Christmas combination. Tart cranberries and sweet fragrant orange combined with all the luxury and indulgence we deserve at this time of year. Panna cotta is also a fantastic dessert for the festive season, when we’re all so busy and could do with a few more hours in the day to get everything done. You can make this dessert well ahead of time, even a couple of days if you need to, and then just forget about it until your guests are ready for pudding. It’s also really quite quick and easy to prepare. Do I need to give you any more reasons to make it?
250ml whipping cream
250ml whole milk
zest of 2 clementines
1 vanilla pod
1 tbsp sugar
3 leaves of gelatine
juice of two clementines
Soak the gelatine in a little cold water and set it aside.
Combine the cream, milk, sugar, clementine zest and vanilla in a pan and gently heat it but don’t let it get too hot. Remove the pan from the heat and fish out the vanilla pod, if you like you can scrape out the seeds and stir them into the cream mixture.
Squeeze the excess water from the gelatine and then stir this into the cream, ensuring that it dissolves. Set this aside to cool to almost room temperature.
Once cooled you can give it a stir and pour it into pretty glasses or jars and then transfer it to the fridge to set.
Combine the cranberries with the sugar and clementine juice in a small pan and gently simmer until the fruit has cooked down and become pulpy. Set this aside to cool and use it to top the panna cottas once they are set.
If anyone can think of a catchier name for this then I would love to hear it. It is a bit of a mouthful, no pun intended. I’ve met quite a few Americans who find the fact that we Brits often refer to dessert as […]
I’ve made this a few times now and it always gets a really warm welcome at the table. It’s what autumn puddings should be, rich and warming and packed with flavourful spices. The sponge is wonderfully light with a gloriously sticky crust, the pears are […]
I think this post might be my biggest tribute to my Grandmas baking yet. She was a pretty decent cook, although she mostly stuck to the ‘meat and two veg’ type recipes of her era, but my goodness was she a good baker.
This was especially true when it came to pastry. It was always faultless, whether it was sweet or savoury and always perfectly flaky and melt in the mouth.
If she was making pastry then my brother and I would loiter in her kitchen, waiting for the off-cuts to turn into little pasties filled with her homemade jam. The hardest part of making these is waiting for them to cool when they come out of the oven so that you don’t burn your mouth on the bubbling hot jam.
300g plain flour
1/4 nutmeg (grated)
2 tbsp brandy (optional – you can just use water if you prefer)
splash of ice-cold water
150g (ish) cherry jam
75g (ish) mascarpone
egg wash and a little extra sugar to finish
To make the pastry sift the flour and gently rub the cold butter into it until you have a breadcrumb-like mixture. Whisk in the sugar. Slowly add the brandy and enough water to bring this all together to form a ball of dough. You can do all this in a food processor if you prefer. Wrap the dough in cling film and let it rest in the fridge for 20 minutes before pre-heating the oven to 180°c.
Lightly dust your work surface with flour and roll out the dough so that it’s a couple of millimetres thick. Using a small plate or saucer as a guide, cut out discs from the dough, re-rolling as necessary. Add a small dollop of jam and a little blob of mascarpone to the centre of each disc. Try to resist the urge to be too greedy with the amount of filling, it will undoubtedly bubble out so you don’t really want more than a teaspoon in there. Brush the edge of the dough with beaten egg, fold the pastry over the filling and firmly press down the edges. Crimp the edge or simply press around it with a fork.
Brush each little pasty with egg wash and sprinkle them with a little sugar. Arrange on a greased baking tray and bake for about 30 minutes until they’re beautifully golden. Leave them to cool a little before enjoying.
When I was little a battle would be waged every summer in our garden between my mum and the resident blackbirds over who was going to get to the blackcurrants first once they reached peak ripeness. On the occasions when my mum won the war […]