Kitabı oku: «Spooning with Rosie», sayfa 2
Mum’s Seedy Soda Bread
Makes 2 loaves
Soda bread is a wonderful cheat’s bread. It makes for an encouraging initiation into the world of baking, so get cracking. My mother skilfully leavened abundant firm loaves practically daily, decorated with beautiful wheatears and laden with seeds. But for me, it felt like a whole other level of kitchen excellence, slightly out of my reach. By its very nature, soda bread does not require all the leavening and kneading of a normal yeast loaf, so don’t be shy. And once you can see the texture that it needs to be, sloppy but nutty, like a moist porridge, you can be free to throw in whatever you want: poppy seeds, dried herbs, sesame seeds, olives, pumpkin seeds. And you can substitute the sugar here with good honey, for a deeper flavour. Making two loaves, you can put one in the freezer for a rainy day, but if you just want to bake one loaf, divide the quantities below in half.
Of course there’s something deeply impressive about baking your own bread, so I frequently find myself making Mum’s soda bread when I’ve got people over for dinner. It’s so easy: make the bread first (as soon as you get in the door), and while it’s in the oven you’ll have time to prepare some other knick-knacks for dinner. It’s particularly delicious with my favourite salmon and fennel pâté (see page 95) and a crunchy salad. And incidentally, it’s slightly lower in gluten due to the spelt flour.
a small knob of butter
200g wholemeal flour, plus a little more for dusting the bread tins
300g spelt flour
4 tablespoons bran
2 tablespoons wheat germ
2 heaped teaspoons baking powder
Maldon sea salt
1 tablespoon muscovado sugar
4 tablespoons sesame seeds
1 tablespoon caraway seeds
2 teaspoons coriander seeds
100g linseeds
565ml semi-skimmed milk (milk on the turn is even better)
Preheat the oven to 200°C/Gas 6. Butter two traditional 900g bread tins (about 19 × 11cm) and then lightly flour each one, banging it around so that the base and sides are lightly dusted. Set these aside. Measure out the flours, bran, wheat germ, baking powder, salt, sugar and seeds into a big mixing bowl. With a fork toss around to evenly distribute the flours and seeds. Then measure out the milk and gradually mix it in with the fork. It should look sloppy, so don’t worry if it doesn’t look how you imagine bread dough to be. The reason it is so wet is so that it makes for a really deep flavour, once everything has been dehydrated by the baking process.
Turn this mix out evenly between the two bread tins, which will require you to use a spatula to get all the liquidy cakey mix out. Place in the oven for 25 minutes. It should have risen by this point and be crisp and cracking on the top. Then turn the oven down to 170°C/Gas 3 and continue baking for a further hour and 10 minutes.
Once removed from the oven, turn out the loaves on to a cooling rack for an hour. If they are baked right, they should make a hollow sound when tapped on the bottom. These loaves are best when they have been cooled for a few hours or overnight. Eat for breakfast, lunch and dinner with unsalted butter.
Soda Bread with Tomato & Oregano
Makes 1 loaf
100g white flour
150g wholemeal flour
11/2 tablespoons bran
1 tablespoon wheat germ
1 teaspoon baking powder
2 handfuls of sesame seeds
1 dessertspoon honey
1 tablespoon tomato purée
150ml full-fat milk
1 tablespoon dried oregano
Follow the directions above, adding the tomato purée to the milk to dissolve it. Then mix the milk into all the dry ingredients as normal and bake for an extra 20 minutes to dry out any excess moisture.
Rupert’s New York Eggy Bread with Bacon & Maple Syrup
For 2
In New York for a decadent long weekend, I gorged on those famed diner breakfasts and my good friend Rupert immediately leapt to the forefront of my mind. When we lived together in Edinburgh, he’d emerge from his cupboard-like room at 1 p.m., saunter down to the shop and buy his essential breakfast ingredients, and offer up this fantastic creation to whoever was disclosing their woes at our kitchen table.
This early morning dish has all the abundance of a New York start, with the thick sweetness of syrup and saltiness of bacon. (There’s something really great about sweet things like maple syrup with bacon. Actually almost anything sweet with pork is a winner: honey, apples, plum sauce, a sugar glaze with cloves…) According to heroic food writer Jake Tilson, ‘For a Breakfast lover, visiting New York is like finding the source of the Nile.’ That amazing American abundance: never-ending weak coffee, and sticky jugs of maple syrup at every table. This breakfast combines both Rupert’s loving moniker, and that distinctive New York flavour.
4 large free-range eggs
1 coffee-sized cup of full-fat milk
freshly ground black pepper
Maldon sea salt
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
4 slices of really soft fresh white bloomer
4 rashers of smoked streaky bacon
maple syrup
Find a wide flat-bottomed bowl or serving dish, and in it beat together the eggs, milk, pepper and salt. You will need to get two frying pans hot and at the ready. If possible, a bigger one for the bread, and a smaller one for the bacon. Divide the vegetable oil between these pans. Allow 2 of the slices of bread to soak in the egg bowl and drink up a quarter of the beaten egg. When the oil is quivering, begin by frying the rashers in the small pan. Turn the slices of bread over and coat again to absorb a further quarter of the egg mix. Add the 2 slices to the bigger of the pans, and get the other 2 slices of bread soaking in the same way so that all the egg is equally absorbed. Now add these to the larger bread pan. Sizzle each side of the bread slices, while keeping an eye on the bacon. The bacon should be beginning to brown and crisp at the edges. When the bread slices are browned as well, and slightly swollen and risen, remove to a plate and top with the crisp bacon and lots of maple syrup. Have it with strong tea, and a good gas.
Omelette with Potatoes, Peperoncino, Tomatoes & Cheese
For 3 hungry friends or 4 abstemious ones
Mostly because we were never flush, but also because he rightly hates waste, my father had the habit of frying up leftovers. This did lead to some serious disasters along the way. My brother Olly and I still giggle over his duck skin stew! However, leftovers can be a great addition to a morning omelette: a little remaining tomato sauce? Peppers on the turn? Slightly dry Cheddar? Daddy’s old schoolfriend Giles even recently wrote to him about the merits of leftover angelfish curry in an omelette.
Here I use cooked potatoes. They could be little new ones, cold mashed or just boiled from the night before. They would all work. The dried chilli flakes are a great storecupboard essential, and, added here, will really wake you up. I bought a few jars of peperoncino when I was in Italy, but you can get little bags of these chilli flakes in good old-fashioned continental delis too. I most recently made this spiced omelette with Raf for our super-cool adopted DJ son, Toddla T, after a night out at the Grecoroman Sonic Wrestling party. The chilli flakes were our tonic. It hardly needs to be mentioned that an omelette is also an excellent last-minute dinner. When I’m back a little late, it’s what I cook up. You too will be sated in a matter of minutes.
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium onion
200g cherry tomatoes or about 3 ripe plum tomatoes
400g cooked potato, either boiled or mashed
1 teaspoon peperoncino (chilli flakes)
6 medium free-range eggs
100g Gouda or any really melty cheese
freshly ground black pepper
Maldon sea salt
a healthy handful of rocket or spinach
Find a large heavy-bottomed frying pan and begin warming the olive oil on a low heat. Meanwhile get all the vegetables prepared: peel and finely chop the onion, cut the tomatoes in half, and if need be further slice the potatoes so that they are in about 2cm cubes. Add the onions to the pan and let them sweat until they are turning transparent. Now add the tomatoes and sweat for a further few minutes along with the peperoncino, stirring all the while. When the tomato skins are beginning to split, add the cooked potatoes.
In a bowl, beat the eggs thoroughly and then grate in half the cheese. When the potatoes are hot through, pour in the egg mixture and season well. Tumble the rocket over the top of the omelette, followed by the remaining cheese. Keep heating the omelette on the hob until it is drying out at the edges, which should take a few minutes.
Meanwhile turn the grill on to a low setting. Place the omelette under the grill so that it is just sealed on top, which will take about 2 minutes. You still want some soft creamy egg in the middle. Slice into 3 or 4 pieces and dish up with some Dijon mustard.
Fried Bread with Sweet Chilli Sauce
For 2
When we lived together at university, Anna and I frequently felt…a little tender. We’d set ourselves up good and proper for a day of vegging. Still in our pyjamas, we would go down to the shop to buy bumper amounts of juice, cheap bread and sweet chilli sauce, to accompany an array of high-school movies and a day’s hilarity. Really, we were making our own fun, because we were just too broke to order a takeaway. This became our substitute for sesame prawn toast and those exciting hot tinfoil boxes of Chinese delights. They really hit the spot in a gross and junky way, which is sometimes exactly what we needed to indulge ourselves.
4 slices of corner-shop bread
3 tablespoons vegetable oil
2 tablespoons sweet chilli sauce
Carefully slice the crusts off the slices of bread. Heat the vegetable oil in a big frying pan on a medium flame. When the oil is rippling, dip a corner of the bread into it to check that it sizzles. Providing it does, add the 4 pieces of trimmed bread and fry until golden and crisp. Turn them over to do the same on the other side. Pour out the sweet chilli sauce into a ramekin and set aside ready for the dipping. When the bread has absorbed the oil and is stiff and golden on both sides, remove from the pan and, on a wooden chopping board, slice each piece into soldiers. Scoop these into the sweet chilli sauce, and munch immediately. There you have our fakery. For best results repeat this dish a few times throughout a long and lazy day.
Mum’s Piping Popovers
Makes 6 to 8 popovers
Popovers are another of my mother’s great brekka additions. She caught her obsession for these sweet Yorkshire puddings at her sister Judith’s house, and has made them ever since. If we found out that they were on the breakfast menu, my brother and I were up early and eager and at the table, armed with knives and forks. The hole in the centre of the popover is filled with a knob of butter and a generous splash of maple syrup. The most exciting bit is when you pull them open, and the unctuous saccharine river oozes out from them.
115g plain flour
a pinch of salt
a little freshly grated nutmeg
2 medium free-range eggs
215ml full-fat milk
3 tablespoons vegetable oil
butter and maple syrup, to serve
Preheat the oven to 220°C/Gas 7 and place a deep muffin tray in the oven to warm right up. If you are using a liquidiser, put the flour, salt, nutmeg, eggs and milk into the bowl or jug, and give it a good whiz, so that it is a smooth batter. If you are using a whisk, start by beating the eggs in a big jug or mixing bowl. Then add a little of the milk before adding the flour, salt and nutmeg. Loosen it again with the rest of the milk.
Take out the piping hot tray, pour a little oil into each hole, and return to really hot up in the oven. This will take about 5 minutes. Then pour the batter into each hole, about halfway up because they will rise. They will sizzle and start to cook the minute they hit the oily hole. Return the tray straight away to the oven, turning the temperature down to 170°C/Gas 3, and bake for 20 minutes, by which time they will look like little Yorkshire puddings. They should be, according to my mum, ‘puffy, crisp and hollow inside’. To serve, place a little knob of butter into each sunken centre, along with a glug of maple syrup.
Australian Marmalade Muffins
Makes 8 muffins
Marmalade and muffins are both time-honoured components of a breakfast, and are happily joined under the same umbrella in this clever recipe. Whilst in Australia I learnt a lot about a decent breakfast: muffins and cupcakes, savoury pastries and delectable coffees. I picked up this winner too. While we are on the subject of Australia, I swear by the Australian Woman’s Weekly books. They are not only reasonably priced magazine-style books, but really comprehensive and much more adventurous than you may think at first. They span national to mood foods, and are never too expensive if you fancy getting your head around a new issue in the kitchen.
These are magnificent breakfast treats packed with marmalade and are best straight out of the oven, first thing. So when I make them in the deli, they don’t last long on the cake-stand. They are particularly good with a well-brewed pot of tea. And the trick with muffins, for that lovely risen and cracking top, is not to over-combine the mixture in the final stages. This means that they are best made, really, in a slapdash fashion, which is lucky.
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
125g softened butter
300g self-raising flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1 orange
2 medium free-range eggs
150g caster sugar
2 tablespoons thick-cut marmalade (preferably my mum’s dark one)
125ml full-fat milk
Preheat the oven to 160°C/Gas 2. Using a pastry brush or some oiled kitchen towel, grease each hole in a muffin tray with a little vegetable oil. Measure the butter, flour and baking powder into a big mixing bowl. Quickly rub them together, as you would when making pastry, lightly with the tips of your fingers. Now grate the zest of the orange into this. Beat the eggs together in a cup, and roughly add to the flour mix with a knife. Then roughly stir in the sugar, marmalade and milk with speed. Do not over-mix, or it will become too homogenised.
Turn the mix out equally into the muffin tray, but do not overload the holes, as they really do rise. Place in the oven for 20 minutes or until just firm and steaming. You can also check them by plunging a toothpick into the middle of one. If the toothpick comes out clean, they are ready, but if there is any liquid or cake mix clinging to it, they need a few more minutes. Remove to a cooling rack by releasing each muffin with a fruit knife, and cool for a few minutes before dishing them up with a big pot of tea.
Porridge with Golden Currants & Muscovado Sugar
For 2
Word has it that oats are a superfood (which means, for me, merely that it keeps the wolf from the door). And porridge is one of those delicious breakfasts that not only keeps your energy up but in winter keeps you warm on the inside too, rather like a hot bath. This is very useful if you start the day at the bus stop in the cold. When customers come into Rosie’s looking a little sorry for themselves, I usually suggest a big bowl of steaming porridge, to ward off the morning misery.
The golden currants are a sweet addition, and the muscovado sugar gives it that treacle-like rich depth. The timing of porridge rather depends on the oats. If you use the coarse nutty kind, it will take longer to homogenise. If you use finer, flourier packaged supermarket oats, it should take a little less time to achieve this comforting and maternal dish.
100g wholegrain rolled oats
500ml full-fat milk
a pinch of table salt
100g golden currants
2 dessertspoons muscovado sugar
Measure out the oats into a small pan along with the milk. Add a pinch of salt and put the pan on the smallest ring on the hob. Rapidly heat for 5 minutes, stirring with a wooden spoon until it looks deliciously nutty and gluey. Take it off the heat for a moment to settle, before dishing out into bowls and topping with the light currants and dark sugar. You may want to wash the porridge down with a little extra cold milk.
Gazpacho for a Barcelona Morning
Makes a big bowl or about 8 mugs
The first time I tasted gazpacho was at Laurie Castelli’s house. He was one of the first to discover my little deli in Brixton, and so then we were new friends. He now lives in Colombia with his beautiful son and wife, but at the time he lived on crack alley, Rushcroft Road. He lured me over to his stylishly minimal flat to try his brother Gian Castelli’s impeccable cold tomato soup. I left with the offer of a ride on his Moto Guzzi, a cinema date at the ICA, and a delicious taste for this perfect Spanish pick-me-up. As it’s a soup, it’s an unusual choice for breakfast, but trust me, this will wake you up, and cleanse you too. Because the vegetables are all raw, it feels incredibly medicinal.
The next time I came across gazpacho was in Barcelona. My friend Lovely Linda, who was heavily pregnant with Leo at the time, downed a carton of this each morning. And when I tried it too, it made perfect sense. But feel free to drink it at any time of day: in little glasses as a summer starter; in thimbles accompanying a light supper; or as a mid-afternoon reviver. And the trick with Gian’s gazpacho is the use of ground cumin, giving it a Moorish edge. Beware, though, I’ve bust a few blenders masticating this soup. It’s pretty hard to pulverise.
1kg ripe red tomatoes
1 red pepper
1 medium cucumber
1 medium onion
2 garlic cloves
120ml extra virgin olive oil (for posterity’s sake, Spanish, if you can find it), plus a little more for drizzling over at the end
21/2 tablespoons sherry vinegar
2 teaspoons ground cumin
2 teaspoons caster sugar
1 teaspoon Maldon sea salt
freshly ground black pepper
Find a really big mixing bowl to decant each of the ingredients into once they have been prepared: roughly chop the tomatoes into eighths; deseed the pepper and slice into strips; peel and roughly chop the cucumber, complete with seeds; peel and dice the onion and peel and chop the garlic cloves. Pour the extra virgin olive oil, sherry vinegar and cumin into the bowl and mix everything up with your hands. If you have a strong hand-held blender, give it a really good purée, but it’s better still if you have a Magimix, which you can decant the lot into and pulse away on.
When it is a smooth thick soup, you are ready for the next stage. Find a large sieve, place it over another large mixing bowl and pour the gazpacho into it (though Raf recently picked me up an amazing mouli-légumes in Barcelona, which is the real deal in blending a perfect gazpacho). With a metal spoon or a spatula work the soup through the sieve so that it becomes ultimately smooth. You will need to scrape the bottom of the sieve from time to time, to remove the thicker bits. By the end, you will be left with just the woody parts of the vegetables and seeds in the sieve, which you can then discard. Now give the silky gazpacho a thorough mix with a whisk, and season according to your taste, with a little sugar to bring out the flavour of the tomatoes, and also pepper and salt. Serve with a few ice cubes in each mug and a drizzle of excellent Spanish extra virgin olive oil.
Raspberry Risen Pancakes with Clotted Cream
Makes 10 pancakes
These should really be cooked on a griddle pan, like my mum has, but I’m still fruitlessly trying to prise it away from her. A griddle pan is one of those entirely flat iron pans that has a handle running up and over and round to the other side, almost looking like one half of a weight and measure. And because I don’t have this wonderful tool, and you probably won’t either, I just cook them in a big flat frying pan. The warm raspberries are absolutely delicious with thick clotted cream, and are reminiscent of a good old-fashioned cream tea. I’d just as easily cook these for pudding, with some delicious vanilla ice cream to serve.
British raspberries are in season during July and August, so this is naturally a summer brekka. If you stumble upon a good supply during these months, buy a fair few punnets and freeze whatever is surplus to your requirements. Raspberries lend themselves very well to freezing, and your conscience will be clear too. At other times of the year, you may choose to vary the topping. In deepest winter, try finely sliced ripe pears as a substitute.
1 medium free-range egg
130g self-raising flour
50g caster sugar
a pinch of salt
1 teaspoon baking powder
150ml full-fat milk
2 tablespoons butter
170g raspberries
a dusting of icing sugar clotted cream
Preheat the oven to 100°C/Gas 1/4. Line an ovenproof serving dish with a clean drying-up cloth, and place in the oven to warm gently. You will decant each batch of pancakes on to this to keep warm. Thoroughly beat the egg in a mixing bowl. I use my lipped batter bowl, but a wide jug would also do. Add half the flour, the sugar, salt and baking powder, beating with a whisk. This will form a thick elastic batter. Then add the milk, making sure there are no lumps but that the batter is now light and smooth. Now add the remaining flour. It may need a little water to loosen it further. The consistency should be thick but creamy and entirely lumpless. Set aside for an hour if you can stand the temptation, as this makes for a better pancake in the end.
Heat 1 tablespoon of the butter, or some vegetable oil, in a large flat-bottomed frying pan, so that it is silky with fat but not verging into deep-frying territory. Allow the fat to become melted and hot and slippy when the pan is tilted, and then pour out some batter, or add a spoonful of the batter if you are using a bowl, and drop over this 6 or 8 raspberries. The pancakes should be about the diameter of a wine bottle. You will get 2 or 3 in the pan. Allow them to really brown and go golden on the bottom. They are ready to turn when the top side is bubbling and beginning to firm up around the berries. Flip each one over with a heatproof spatula or palette knife, and colour the other side. They should rise a little and firm up, and each side should take just over a minute. Remove to the warm dish before going on to the next batch. They are best after 10 minutes drying out in the warm oven. Finally dust the pancakes generously with some icing sugar if you like. Serve with a smudge of clotted cream on each.
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