tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26487562726514107982024-03-13T01:19:20.096+00:00The Food PhilosophyPaulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15089683116903121790noreply@blogger.comBlogger62125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2648756272651410798.post-2377146423655234962010-07-31T14:05:00.000+00:002010-07-31T14:05:23.657+00:00Zuchinni Fritters with Broad Bean, Pea and Mint<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTZisisKoRdpXOwXygDfmeRQ5ugYwEJKcBfhWeqbB_JFJjH72-7vTlexVflozZC_9VCliPkEWH9EaD1SJg2s4LfwFRxM4yC6TUA5ZlqHP2KemqupjSEI3PB0do0b-qIYT4534ryixJKCS0/s1600/DSC06010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTZisisKoRdpXOwXygDfmeRQ5ugYwEJKcBfhWeqbB_JFJjH72-7vTlexVflozZC_9VCliPkEWH9EaD1SJg2s4LfwFRxM4yC6TUA5ZlqHP2KemqupjSEI3PB0do0b-qIYT4534ryixJKCS0/s320/DSC06010.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Do you need any more reason to get yourself a little patch of garden than beautiful baby zuchinni and their flowers? Looking at them makes me miss my little allotment. Somehow I have left it at just the point when things will be coming into flower and fruit. </div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">Luckily these little beauties were waiting at the cottage in france...perfect for stuffing for a delicate, simple starter.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghW3gWM3WW580bmmn7KEjoDQPTO-mDiMwZIZ47FPUImcRZDVvnCSdkZuHlZ4AbDy4WpgywIIo8QqmVo2FfsaaaXYbkEun4Jxd7X34vL1OjaDZJIGsD23gd0sUqQ-xXmRYD0xxS8DW8gYdf/s1600/DSC06024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghW3gWM3WW580bmmn7KEjoDQPTO-mDiMwZIZ47FPUImcRZDVvnCSdkZuHlZ4AbDy4WpgywIIo8QqmVo2FfsaaaXYbkEun4Jxd7X34vL1OjaDZJIGsD23gd0sUqQ-xXmRYD0xxS8DW8gYdf/s320/DSC06024.JPG" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">For this dish I used both the flowers and also the baby courgettes themselves. Where these courgettes were still attached to the flowers I left them on, but split the courgette up the middle to allow it to cook at the same rate as the flower.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">For the stuffed flowers mix a large handful of mixed herbs - basil, tarragon and parsley - with a soft fresh goats cheese, and the yolk of an egg. Season well. Open the flowers gently and check for bugs, these can be dusted out with a pastry brush but try not to wash the flower unless it needs it as this may bruise it. Use a spoon to gently fill the inside of the flower, and close the petals around the cheese mixture. Whisk the white of the egg and dip the flowers and halved courgettes in this, then dip into a shallow bowl of sifted flour and dust off. Repeat this dipping and dusting again to get a good even covering. Heat a large frying pan with a good slug of olive oil and when it is hot add the courgettes, and then after a couple of minutes the flowers. Fry until golden brown, then transfer to drain briefly on kitchen towel.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">These can be served on their own with a wedge of lemon, but I sprinkled over them shelled garden peas and shelled and skinned baby broad beans, as well as a healthy handful of chopped fresh mint. Wish a glass of chilled Riesling on the terrace this was perfect</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEoBRUhhqL_WtUp1mfaCGLLrXvUiDNORv72lqC_u5OHr7cP3h8q6QCQifILm_biRlRxYngVh2KFI2VJGSv7_nRFH-vjSJUxzrHnGskVo1r8F-ZuXpT3OZg84h3-kiif25GhHmSHPcZ7APq/s1600/DSC06029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEoBRUhhqL_WtUp1mfaCGLLrXvUiDNORv72lqC_u5OHr7cP3h8q6QCQifILm_biRlRxYngVh2KFI2VJGSv7_nRFH-vjSJUxzrHnGskVo1r8F-ZuXpT3OZg84h3-kiif25GhHmSHPcZ7APq/s320/DSC06029.JPG" /></a></div><br />
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</div>Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15089683116903121790noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2648756272651410798.post-26686241806295550972010-07-31T13:26:00.001+00:002010-07-31T13:27:59.544+00:00Bordeaux, a little countryside, St Emilion, Caneles de Bordeaux<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;">A long lost post from a trip to France just before easter. This window for a Macaroon store in Bordeaux reminded me of a cross between something dreamed up by Roald Dahl and Lewis Carroll. I had to be restrained, and reminded that I'd already got my macaroon fix at Pierre Herme in Paris...</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw10nMVPPdsHM80c2nOnEjp-PVcX5AttzSgOQUD_OyF9zYrWQesXHbEJE7Z9w_2z1gDaALG6rm5KA7bajy-yqn_AqBtEMkXzqjLBUO0JS7VWduen1nB1nKV4bdFaXudbtqxbpNEh7_TGPg/s1600/DSC05712.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw10nMVPPdsHM80c2nOnEjp-PVcX5AttzSgOQUD_OyF9zYrWQesXHbEJE7Z9w_2z1gDaALG6rm5KA7bajy-yqn_AqBtEMkXzqjLBUO0JS7VWduen1nB1nKV4bdFaXudbtqxbpNEh7_TGPg/s640/DSC05712.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3YCi7Vs7um4Bb0BoywrBhWu1mN9XkiLeGpr9aLaZDRqzzPLzjQCY33TWSdLj2jd4wUGxilS6QosMt0wHafbpM5qtJzKZ6C5V_fJeF-LFDGxCoUFIyNnKGKtt4FXUWR9hzcKSlnTckxAWK/s1600/DSC05713.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeCSF9pme5uUMX5zzAO4ujbud8t6k84FhvpebymW-KUBSM0v8eFs0PBUXnaMwIDHbU9Zmkjgtw3WXQtiGWKjr7z3J2y6S0Gm03-vuQG9uNKfqVJSYhwiccgp4CQV96V6CzD9KOpkjwKaX9/s1600/DSC05714.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeCSF9pme5uUMX5zzAO4ujbud8t6k84FhvpebymW-KUBSM0v8eFs0PBUXnaMwIDHbU9Zmkjgtw3WXQtiGWKjr7z3J2y6S0Gm03-vuQG9uNKfqVJSYhwiccgp4CQV96V6CzD9KOpkjwKaX9/s640/DSC05714.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">But aren't foie gras and milk chocolate macaroons exactly what the Mad Hatter ought to eat?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeCSF9pme5uUMX5zzAO4ujbud8t6k84FhvpebymW-KUBSM0v8eFs0PBUXnaMwIDHbU9Zmkjgtw3WXQtiGWKjr7z3J2y6S0Gm03-vuQG9uNKfqVJSYhwiccgp4CQV96V6CzD9KOpkjwKaX9/s1600/DSC05714.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaLXT_MTG02IFNOSYkvt3a5ks5FiRifR8LaraVKmB4mZ54mjk0F10CPfRfu7asC_0cx8R8ESEvzTiDgnvTZi-gpe3tfyoTkXZjYASS6k2JQjrt8SsVl5f-KkSbj8ZxfdmYpiDMfQ0utRL1/s1600/DSC05717.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaLXT_MTG02IFNOSYkvt3a5ks5FiRifR8LaraVKmB4mZ54mjk0F10CPfRfu7asC_0cx8R8ESEvzTiDgnvTZi-gpe3tfyoTkXZjYASS6k2JQjrt8SsVl5f-KkSbj8ZxfdmYpiDMfQ0utRL1/s640/DSC05717.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Rue des Remparts has some very overpriced, but beautiful, olive trees, along with my favourite place for breakfast: <a href="http://painetcompagnie.fr/">Pain et Cie</a>. Wonderful bread and the best pralinee spread. Also, helpfully, the only place open for breakfast at 8am on a Sunday near the bus to the airport</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaLXT_MTG02IFNOSYkvt3a5ks5FiRifR8LaraVKmB4mZ54mjk0F10CPfRfu7asC_0cx8R8ESEvzTiDgnvTZi-gpe3tfyoTkXZjYASS6k2JQjrt8SsVl5f-KkSbj8ZxfdmYpiDMfQ0utRL1/s1600/DSC05717.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihbbOfz7-Pww4u0QeFwpy9NW4usyR31WHrSpePU6z_zWawo-PUQgVpALrY0qdVOHaaKlpl6xY14Udmu-isenF_9VItD2GxLSy8Ywn3KpawW_LmNhKSAquBdBuDI4rp9jnaWgfYqYrihdmA/s1600/DSC05722.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihbbOfz7-Pww4u0QeFwpy9NW4usyR31WHrSpePU6z_zWawo-PUQgVpALrY0qdVOHaaKlpl6xY14Udmu-isenF_9VItD2GxLSy8Ywn3KpawW_LmNhKSAquBdBuDI4rp9jnaWgfYqYrihdmA/s640/DSC05722.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSpKBaGEpBGFdWWTWPJT7BBNUw1KrOMydjO3YYZMIxlxsTa0wlJgwZLmXhJ7i3KW4NH9YLwH_-OqOmfT9vYH2v7DetjMp1vDbvX4Ph7PGsxeW0Poo52DnHCz8o6RXPN3mLgNgWmmwoEDt_/s1600/DSC05725.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6SR7G5nkww09v8C0a7S7itW-2Y7gVBajG6XpHDVfUCmvEBgUWF5oMYPRHatCr8pgkDuJCdAFDyE3QwCR7g6mes7vn8mU8cWCEJro2XlxFyUK2Rpqd9lQXz8C-QJypCAjW3W_Bg1FQvgNW/s1600/DSC05728.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6SR7G5nkww09v8C0a7S7itW-2Y7gVBajG6XpHDVfUCmvEBgUWF5oMYPRHatCr8pgkDuJCdAFDyE3QwCR7g6mes7vn8mU8cWCEJro2XlxFyUK2Rpqd9lQXz8C-QJypCAjW3W_Bg1FQvgNW/s640/DSC05728.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6SR7G5nkww09v8C0a7S7itW-2Y7gVBajG6XpHDVfUCmvEBgUWF5oMYPRHatCr8pgkDuJCdAFDyE3QwCR7g6mes7vn8mU8cWCEJro2XlxFyUK2Rpqd9lQXz8C-QJypCAjW3W_Bg1FQvgNW/s1600/DSC05728.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizlRsZ8hkP-YZu-OTWfpy-Rd_EGR6CYZ-Iegb6BhGSdNgJ-93bOJg3fFXwveQj5ZSUDFTyfgt0STqCjUR0cTmnRYUGEzwydMwBRqbrfUM2ak65N77_ZFRms1mqR1f__kA0OL26oj-3GnqD/s1600/DSC05731.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizlRsZ8hkP-YZu-OTWfpy-Rd_EGR6CYZ-Iegb6BhGSdNgJ-93bOJg3fFXwveQj5ZSUDFTyfgt0STqCjUR0cTmnRYUGEzwydMwBRqbrfUM2ak65N77_ZFRms1mqR1f__kA0OL26oj-3GnqD/s640/DSC05731.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Everywhere in Bordeaux, chocolate shops, cheese shops, flower stalls, and Baillardan, was readying itself for the easter rush, full of easter bells, and fish.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizlRsZ8hkP-YZu-OTWfpy-Rd_EGR6CYZ-Iegb6BhGSdNgJ-93bOJg3fFXwveQj5ZSUDFTyfgt0STqCjUR0cTmnRYUGEzwydMwBRqbrfUM2ak65N77_ZFRms1mqR1f__kA0OL26oj-3GnqD/s1600/DSC05731.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIr7oEsMtN1dMFnyrXGXUqWM-CMkhf7UiFjvvfJdEm4fTiaudYMkzUDSS5gxhivnkGRjX8wSsICWGMI95O9E4cBtFefJy7bz-INCZ8fKzA3ZQlfU7zgpTE1CZfO7mgVGr1jcrgsXB5HQw6/s1600/DSC05760.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIr7oEsMtN1dMFnyrXGXUqWM-CMkhf7UiFjvvfJdEm4fTiaudYMkzUDSS5gxhivnkGRjX8wSsICWGMI95O9E4cBtFefJy7bz-INCZ8fKzA3ZQlfU7zgpTE1CZfO7mgVGr1jcrgsXB5HQw6/s320/DSC05760.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm1vkoospBQQTjvtxRmXHFlzJ8w7MhQz1WgAvc1XFJlAooK9kU4vzkssyYPwmU-gr8ZEzhuKp0M24T2ELZHL3Ft4FAYqqPZQUbSUvw0rRie0Ao7VHoa0agYtThMKi4oafQl-vAyXG0PF2U/s1600/DSC05762.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm1vkoospBQQTjvtxRmXHFlzJ8w7MhQz1WgAvc1XFJlAooK9kU4vzkssyYPwmU-gr8ZEzhuKp0M24T2ELZHL3Ft4FAYqqPZQUbSUvw0rRie0Ao7VHoa0agYtThMKi4oafQl-vAyXG0PF2U/s320/DSC05762.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm1vkoospBQQTjvtxRmXHFlzJ8w7MhQz1WgAvc1XFJlAooK9kU4vzkssyYPwmU-gr8ZEzhuKp0M24T2ELZHL3Ft4FAYqqPZQUbSUvw0rRie0Ao7VHoa0agYtThMKi4oafQl-vAyXG0PF2U/s1600/DSC05762.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3fmlCqr8GNPhGBKeYHNdaxQBlLmGZWjfiVoPDh-etnulfKTgQ6oV5SaLueGm3Ce4K51h3gzJNEgWE7o5mLZPfn9U-P_hKlvOcKj8HHnmuS5vv5o0HjHCcU6HzSxNHj-yfzrZ-zHNtHwdA/s1600/DSC05763.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3fmlCqr8GNPhGBKeYHNdaxQBlLmGZWjfiVoPDh-etnulfKTgQ6oV5SaLueGm3Ce4K51h3gzJNEgWE7o5mLZPfn9U-P_hKlvOcKj8HHnmuS5vv5o0HjHCcU6HzSxNHj-yfzrZ-zHNtHwdA/s320/DSC05763.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3fmlCqr8GNPhGBKeYHNdaxQBlLmGZWjfiVoPDh-etnulfKTgQ6oV5SaLueGm3Ce4K51h3gzJNEgWE7o5mLZPfn9U-P_hKlvOcKj8HHnmuS5vv5o0HjHCcU6HzSxNHj-yfzrZ-zHNtHwdA/s1600/DSC05763.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>St Emilion, on the other hand, was readying itself to sell this years 2009 vintage. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sensible people avoid the wine shops in the town, which by and large seem to trap you with a tasting and a hard sell, and do their buying either direct from the Chateau, or through the Maison du Vin in St Emilion. L'Intendant in Bordeaux also seemed to be knowledgable, non-pushy and free of the uninflated prices some shops were charging.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9n6QMXfsSs2RBJn4MO0Pr7Gk2mrI_7d6VhDjnuU0an2Qt54Mov110fjnSGxKgiUYevtpPggl92CVdenfB1cJgI2TCgPVCeUO9qHsFdq3e-IlyNxGn4Hu69yASisrQI3u5XuLt8ULeLpQ_/s1600/DSC05773.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5r17t6Y_lmByx-60p9GrOCE1R2Abf-njt5VxB-GGJFeeFlXqoh2-EVBGEUz7JHMdvIcstKI8n3Ikw3UT8i6nQT8Og4UTm9FVFyIeLs-b1osLZZVPoFvh_HmfY-IdeuHTksgq7Gbh3Ny0A/s1600/DSC05775.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5r17t6Y_lmByx-60p9GrOCE1R2Abf-njt5VxB-GGJFeeFlXqoh2-EVBGEUz7JHMdvIcstKI8n3Ikw3UT8i6nQT8Og4UTm9FVFyIeLs-b1osLZZVPoFvh_HmfY-IdeuHTksgq7Gbh3Ny0A/s320/DSC05775.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5r17t6Y_lmByx-60p9GrOCE1R2Abf-njt5VxB-GGJFeeFlXqoh2-EVBGEUz7JHMdvIcstKI8n3Ikw3UT8i6nQT8Og4UTm9FVFyIeLs-b1osLZZVPoFvh_HmfY-IdeuHTksgq7Gbh3Ny0A/s1600/DSC05775.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyiMDd5su0LPXI3ld4_HE1LUz9qBaXtvEnrdfcxzY8J0FgfKAEmPXF7iTkGvxZees0MaouNR9rYB4mML7fF-4wgq7rt0K-387HSrtF3BT-YrUvKpMInZ4u8mfD5DPYX4mUTMAF29-3_FV8/s1600/DSC05776.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyiMDd5su0LPXI3ld4_HE1LUz9qBaXtvEnrdfcxzY8J0FgfKAEmPXF7iTkGvxZees0MaouNR9rYB4mML7fF-4wgq7rt0K-387HSrtF3BT-YrUvKpMInZ4u8mfD5DPYX4mUTMAF29-3_FV8/s640/DSC05776.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We weren't doing more than a little buying this trip, so contended ourselves with replenishing our stocks of wines we know we like. Oh, and the second wine from Chateau Montrose, La Dame de Montrose 2004, which came highly recommended, and I couldn't resist. Time will tell if this was a sensible decision or just an expensive one. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15089683116903121790noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2648756272651410798.post-23497960908634030322010-01-10T18:33:00.004+00:002010-01-16T19:05:50.987+00:00Pulled pork with fennel and citrus salad<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_uD64K1c2us8n6ZbMpVk3p1ul_yn5PEopRG2yXMzxbMGYjxv_culOcUsJYCZxxI1ghT0v3zZl6nYNR_V46l72DB89RSnt8xjs48UgXP9Qy1cYcX5hYN54Bhb-ehSbaeljZoWWqiII1uGN/s1600-h/DSC05563.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_uD64K1c2us8n6ZbMpVk3p1ul_yn5PEopRG2yXMzxbMGYjxv_culOcUsJYCZxxI1ghT0v3zZl6nYNR_V46l72DB89RSnt8xjs48UgXP9Qy1cYcX5hYN54Bhb-ehSbaeljZoWWqiII1uGN/s400/DSC05563.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427413236812630706" /></a><br /><br />There is only so much soup and stew I can eat, even when there is as much snow as there has been in Oxford (above is a photo I took of the rather wonderful headington shark, looking all the more surreal for its dusting of snow). Sooner or later I yearn for something fresh, with bite, and hopefully crunch. So today I've been adding to my gas bill by slow roasting a pork belly, dry rubbed with spices, ready to tear to pieces for dinner. With finely shaved fennel, celeriac, red onion together with glistening grapefruit and clementine segments, and a healthy dash of chilli and lime, it looks like just the thing for the new year. I hasten to add that nothing about this was traditional, or culinarily authentic, but it was just the kind of satisfying, interesting thing I want to cook more of<br /><br />New Years Slaw<br /><br />one bulb of fennel sliced as thinly as possible<br />1/2 small celeriac cut into very thin batons<br />one grapefruit<br />two clementines<br />one red onion thinly minced<br />chilli finely minced<br />lime<br />salt <br /><br />For the citrus fruit peel them with a sharp knife, taking the white pith away as well as the skin, then use the knife to slice out the segments of fruit, leaving the bitter membrane. You'll be left with quite a bit of flesh attached to the membrane, use your hand to squeeze as much of the juice from this into a bowl. With this remaining juice, and the onion, chilli and salt, make a dressing for the salad.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGjfdXNvspcm5HZwWQ0sWqc2l780ZQL-hIJD3qXIU2Uj2GMH3qOT23Yo6knl1YFEsaoBgpD0kOxRznacc1t93YXD4M8C4rUhN7XK-uNzW5_l0u-hZf5S24CnJ2qzWoXA6ws5xr6eE9UoSp/s1600-h/DSC05596.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGjfdXNvspcm5HZwWQ0sWqc2l780ZQL-hIJD3qXIU2Uj2GMH3qOT23Yo6knl1YFEsaoBgpD0kOxRznacc1t93YXD4M8C4rUhN7XK-uNzW5_l0u-hZf5S24CnJ2qzWoXA6ws5xr6eE9UoSp/s400/DSC05596.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427413231316083394" /></a><br /><br />Pulled Pork<br /><br />Pork belly (not sliced)<br />Salt<br />cayanne<br />cumin<br />coriander<br />fennel seeds<br />garlic bulb<br /><br />Heat the oven to 200 oc<br />Score the rind on the pork belly (this helps the fat crisp nicely) and salt it liberally. Cut the garlic bulb in two and place at the bottom of a roasting dish. Rub the pork with the herbs and spices and place on top of the garlic, skin side up. Cook in the oven for 30 minutes, then turn the heat down to 160oc and continue to cook for at least another 2 hours, preferably 3.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwORhePG5KBYj2RmJnGtmL8hVJXfqNPR__XGKxReJta5K_npGM-2XyenfsSCHaozL9wfUSMBEvvjabgY5K-qyitfSCbIn8K51qyor-EYgLO7Pu1nAOHSJ68_VsCpz1imOXzau6geYKZb0P/s1600-h/DSC05576.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwORhePG5KBYj2RmJnGtmL8hVJXfqNPR__XGKxReJta5K_npGM-2XyenfsSCHaozL9wfUSMBEvvjabgY5K-qyitfSCbIn8K51qyor-EYgLO7Pu1nAOHSJ68_VsCpz1imOXzau6geYKZb0P/s400/DSC05576.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427413225326911762" /></a>Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15089683116903121790noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2648756272651410798.post-71159898470452729312009-10-07T08:32:00.009+00:002010-01-13T11:14:38.947+00:00Catching upThe month of September didn't seem to leave much room for blogging. There was a lot of sugar used in my kitchen on jams, jellies and preserves, and a lot of digging to do in the allotment. October too was spent knee deep in mud, and November work related panic set in. December was a blur of fairy lights, forced paperwhites, evergreen wreaths, hazelnut caramels and an awful lot of mulled wine. Not to mention munching on manchego with my mother's homemade quince paste, and too many mince pies, clementines and slices of italian chocolate christmas cake. Divorced parents means two christmases, a beef wellington with dauphinoise potatoes for one, and roast goose with chestnut and apple stuffing and roast vegetables for the other. Desserts ranged from a wonderful figgy pudding, citrus and ginger fruit salad, to chestnut pudding and, I think best of all, warmed preserved damsons with hazelnut meringues and in which floated clouds of whipped cream.<br /><br />The upside of being so tardy here is that I can now give the edited highlights, the recipes and meals that have stayed with me not just on the day, but a whole three months later. Perhaps not the way blogging ought to be done, but here goes.<br /><br />Much of the work related panic in November was due to us taking a lovely break in Bordeaux and the Dordogne for a blissful few days. We got there via Paris which was engineered by me as a way of stopping to stock up on Valhrona Chocolate from the wonderful G. Detou on rue tiquetonne. I also ogled chocolate shop windows and ate the most wonderful crepes which started an autumn love of caramel beurre sale.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm6ju8gsorLGqLdy7p6PmaamaOng6p9FYrozJ0TC-kR32o6CWy2sQrE_O4_n6CUpdNrNRv8czGXf2hQC-nD4wm_uqWEt98dhlOyFW7eSgpq6q9kOhYLF6OZLrCRDdSy3EvotR-Brc8K5NW/s1600-h/DSC05276.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm6ju8gsorLGqLdy7p6PmaamaOng6p9FYrozJ0TC-kR32o6CWy2sQrE_O4_n6CUpdNrNRv8czGXf2hQC-nD4wm_uqWEt98dhlOyFW7eSgpq6q9kOhYLF6OZLrCRDdSy3EvotR-Brc8K5NW/s400/DSC05276.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425176869499407234" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvJvcs55JaWvOh3cGOigt4b_rhTQPkQP30dycPfg70l-jlfOlZJ8uwcsehBr7GM5RpUw40iPizqV3dViZh72L0zHqcy8orFD_n5H1BWw1LKn0EWYb9GCOCoH3cPggJsZ4CiNTKUiHt5LSR/s1600-h/DSC05277.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvJvcs55JaWvOh3cGOigt4b_rhTQPkQP30dycPfg70l-jlfOlZJ8uwcsehBr7GM5RpUw40iPizqV3dViZh72L0zHqcy8orFD_n5H1BWw1LKn0EWYb9GCOCoH3cPggJsZ4CiNTKUiHt5LSR/s400/DSC05277.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425176861514889330" /></a><br /><br />I played owning my own castle in Monbazilliac, which sadly is likely to remain a long-cherished dream for decades to come. I'm particularly in need of a bread oven and an apple store, not to mention a cellar of vintage Bordeaux.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA9zepMHmIlV56TRseuF1hbwj7PrzMbUxS0R8VEEDd2dCu10zygbJKQ0ucIEhAnOIAHutIRwXkHIWcWGWgQRZXh4qvK84k7ilYYWS_xcRymZx5d99PEKzanMiZWqSILvtaBaWKKrpv0fDi/s1600-h/DSC05299.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA9zepMHmIlV56TRseuF1hbwj7PrzMbUxS0R8VEEDd2dCu10zygbJKQ0ucIEhAnOIAHutIRwXkHIWcWGWgQRZXh4qvK84k7ilYYWS_xcRymZx5d99PEKzanMiZWqSILvtaBaWKKrpv0fDi/s400/DSC05299.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425176848556433698" /></a><br /><br />There were about a million clementines eaten over December in our house<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggGrSR7hCBUQXGX_o6YyV0bEm2qr88EuATpilM0TDNKNGNmpeztATYkVx2H6U4HicYO-36KdqOP_UGQYMaVqkL286kEGl7uPoKqB2tTdIDugS4inHmQX63b2zMgacVgsEJfOCMfcUv8GSF/s1600-h/DSC05368.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggGrSR7hCBUQXGX_o6YyV0bEm2qr88EuATpilM0TDNKNGNmpeztATYkVx2H6U4HicYO-36KdqOP_UGQYMaVqkL286kEGl7uPoKqB2tTdIDugS4inHmQX63b2zMgacVgsEJfOCMfcUv8GSF/s400/DSC05368.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425175138237554290" /></a><br /><br />And because our flat is tiny (or 'bijou') we had no christmas tree but instead a lovely jasmine plant decked with silver baubles, which smelt divine<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIZV_2uPdOaYsvJlRLJl75RxmoU2QV8VzoQIZ1A1cBBbyObtBOD7BFR1bpz79lN7JnraJloRaEvhJHbdbUpiiDBDKx1cHTjFfRyOIbRDwQEVURl65A1R_GZZ7d-4b_qCcQq4PAzCtI1Yc_/s1600-h/DSC05356.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIZV_2uPdOaYsvJlRLJl75RxmoU2QV8VzoQIZ1A1cBBbyObtBOD7BFR1bpz79lN7JnraJloRaEvhJHbdbUpiiDBDKx1cHTjFfRyOIbRDwQEVURl65A1R_GZZ7d-4b_qCcQq4PAzCtI1Yc_/s400/DSC05356.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425175128310437730" /></a><br /><br /><br />Between the family we baked three christmas cakes this year, my mothers recipe, Nigel Slater's, and a chocolate Italian christmas cake from the River Cafe. The chocolate one certainly had its devotees, but doesn't really fit the british christmas cake tradition. Its excellent for those who don't like traditional fruit cake, and as a change for those who do. My mother's recipe won out in the taste tests, and not because its the one she makes every year but because it was considerably moister. Which is not to say that Nigel's wasn't excellent, but next year we'll be making my mother's and the River Cafe chocolate one. Two christmas cakes is enough for any household.<br /><br />Of course the stars of the christmas meals were the goose and the beef wellington, but playing a decidedly important supporting role were two wonderful salads. <br /><br />The first figs baked at 200 oc with translucent strips of pancetta wrapped around them and then, when the pancetta was crisp, nestled on top of frisee, rocket and baby chard. The dressing for this was the fig juices, some very good balsamic and extra virgin, and a little pepper (there being enough salt in the pancetta). It was the perfect christmas salad; light, and yet rich in flavour, the hot salty pancetta with the sticky sweet fig and the earthy leaves. <br /><br />The second was a traditional celeriac remoulade. Previously I have always spurned this, as I have all other salads which involved mayonnaise . I think this must be a lingering reaction to the school salad bar, and I think it still tends to be the right reaction when presented with salad drenched in mayonnaise. But it turns out that homemade mayonnaise is not only wonderful to dip chips in, or turn into aioli, but also to turn the humble celeriac into a thing of beauty. Clearly, everyone except me knew this, but for me it was a revelation. So in the last week I've made celeriac remoulade three times. It takes patience (especially as I lack a mandolin) but my knife and emulsifying skills are improving.<br /><br />One preserve I will be re-making next year was the bottled damsons. Nothing so simple (far simpler than jam) but nothing so good. All that they required was to make a simple syrup, in which was also boiled a cup of damsons, a clove and a stick of cinnamon. This was then strained onto the uncooked damsons, which had been rinsed and put in sterilised jars. The lids were put on the jars (as per the instructions of whatever preserving jar you use) and they were then heated in the oven at 180 oc for half an hour. Three months later they were delicious with cream and meringues, but I'm sure the other jars will make their way into fools, pies and be poured over icecream as the year progresses.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFoEesvOIqBgoltKf-qh8hH5N0LRYxMIioNG0CXE9ZmcVr1QQ2ftW6k166d3n3YNx-vGOP6NlPLTHXhGhWfXwOJLry7BOFT2ZlYwNM9ArA2hqO4bFn96gELvdwNvf2Znjmahv832GEmJkw/s1600-h/DSC05365.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFoEesvOIqBgoltKf-qh8hH5N0LRYxMIioNG0CXE9ZmcVr1QQ2ftW6k166d3n3YNx-vGOP6NlPLTHXhGhWfXwOJLry7BOFT2ZlYwNM9ArA2hqO4bFn96gELvdwNvf2Znjmahv832GEmJkw/s400/DSC05365.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425175123053475442" /></a>'<br /><br />These little bulbs were only thinking of making an appearance at Christmas, but now are putting a concerted effort into flowering for the new year. The pine boughs around them, however, have been consigned to the recycling.Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15089683116903121790noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2648756272651410798.post-44704543291572646542009-08-31T10:48:00.008+00:002009-08-31T16:34:27.106+00:00Peach, Plum and Redcurrant Breakfast Bread<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYNhln305HJAaLA6LiqcGc9n1iYoGHJxgZo0ikTR20Ix5u_RpnYbvDUf8YxXbpyN0dzS4zGxR3Kr7gCSaexLa2X1vVb3IQorD8qaID2GHk1BWh3MX0T9P_aUqA4x67F9xn0NYK7wr4IqaE/s1600-h/DSC05149.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYNhln305HJAaLA6LiqcGc9n1iYoGHJxgZo0ikTR20Ix5u_RpnYbvDUf8YxXbpyN0dzS4zGxR3Kr7gCSaexLa2X1vVb3IQorD8qaID2GHk1BWh3MX0T9P_aUqA4x67F9xn0NYK7wr4IqaE/s400/DSC05149.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376151582281216786" /></a><br />A yeasted open tart for the changing seasons. Everything locally grown and picked except the peaches (the weather just isn't that good). The dough enriched with ground almonds, the plums, red currants and peaches drizzled in home-made red currant jelly. Baked in the oven in the morning, and then scattered with fresh red currants and a little sugar. A warm slice of this with coffee, or cold with a little creme fraiche, makes a wonderful breakfast.<br /><br />For the bread dough:<br /><br />400g strong white flour<br />70g ground almonds<br />325ml warm water<br />1/2tsp salt<br />1 tsp sugar<br />20g fresh yeast<br /><br />About 1 kilo of fruit: I used a mixture of plums, peaches and red currants<br />1 tbsp red currant jelly<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8-pWMUd957epaa1qC4586kwZ_JyyhBQjZu5AsgBWKp-Ww_VkQsCdoa4yqZKvFkgH9hZtw0tRKoYhf7bL0GEAgbfXWa4kTFS0C_vpvpsU_DhwZkEWwhIoXHU2C9T1M3qmMNKP9UHGLsCGQ/s1600-h/DSC05145.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8-pWMUd957epaa1qC4586kwZ_JyyhBQjZu5AsgBWKp-Ww_VkQsCdoa4yqZKvFkgH9hZtw0tRKoYhf7bL0GEAgbfXWa4kTFS0C_vpvpsU_DhwZkEWwhIoXHU2C9T1M3qmMNKP9UHGLsCGQ/s400/DSC05145.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376151590514798034" /></a><br /><br />Mix the fresh yeast with the water and sugar and leave somewhere warm for 10 minutes to allow the yeast to wake up while you measure out the flour and almonds. Put the flour, almonds, salt and yeast mixture into a bread maker on the dough setting. Once the dough is made slice the peaches and plums into slices and mix with the red currant jelly. Roll the dough out into an oval and spread the fruit in the middle, skin side down. Heat the oven to 200 oc and leave the dough to rise again on top of the oven and away from any draughts. After 30 minutes, and when it is slightly risen, put the dough in the oven and bake until dark golden brown. There will be a little juice seeping out into the dough and the fruit will be beginning to catch on top, going a dark caramel. Take out of the oven, scatter over the remaining red currants and dust with icing sugar.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlfQs-G5wXEvQDyaz_t8LI5hxx_fH3lUjQgNdFL3OZKEiQkDq3hlWtvVP0aLHYi8XJElldvGOXgRgytA_KcH9jspgDWJwzY4bLu_NzZ1lnSTf_ry9Tk7ADXMj7OEiMpaTTpFik-xeCvmcJ/s1600-h/DSC05140.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlfQs-G5wXEvQDyaz_t8LI5hxx_fH3lUjQgNdFL3OZKEiQkDq3hlWtvVP0aLHYi8XJElldvGOXgRgytA_KcH9jspgDWJwzY4bLu_NzZ1lnSTf_ry9Tk7ADXMj7OEiMpaTTpFik-xeCvmcJ/s400/DSC05140.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376151600286624786" /></a>Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15089683116903121790noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2648756272651410798.post-89158572540657306892009-08-05T11:12:00.004+00:002009-08-18T09:54:31.030+00:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgabwUltMgbT7i7AdeiYpfOQaNkRUFwtNaQTsVpz-T_9C099x0bE-DWtSGySV3u9ADFm3DZAHscDjTqtYuFahfwRzLQmOpaS8kJ2T9tOsQwOLQ9KC-TL04yz6_woINuhGi5kHvqKOICnho6/s1600-h/DSC05086.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgabwUltMgbT7i7AdeiYpfOQaNkRUFwtNaQTsVpz-T_9C099x0bE-DWtSGySV3u9ADFm3DZAHscDjTqtYuFahfwRzLQmOpaS8kJ2T9tOsQwOLQ9KC-TL04yz6_woINuhGi5kHvqKOICnho6/s400/DSC05086.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371238030304235378" /></a><br /><br />Nothing is as perfect as the fruits of your own labour, and this little salad was the work of months. Some heavy digging to clear the ground, weeding and watering galore, and then a gap of months where we crossed our fingers and hoped. We planted these little tomatoes as tiny stalks in France in March, and then had to abandon them for the grind of daily life. How wonderful then that this neglect still bore fruit.<br /><br />We planted poire jaune (yellow pear), tiger striped and moneymaker and baby plum tomatoes.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0tRdSRi9LYQYUoi5_doXgB9qwrapZ2DRzduOOp5kc17zIONTizIC5nWpkyIEXQJfyUHNOAYLkdqiuwsu9NRpXwjbrlOaDY3kooIj1wtd2QgLEhWZ0Vk3KffXRI0XJEaiFvchcic1kvljl/s1600-h/DSC05098.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0tRdSRi9LYQYUoi5_doXgB9qwrapZ2DRzduOOp5kc17zIONTizIC5nWpkyIEXQJfyUHNOAYLkdqiuwsu9NRpXwjbrlOaDY3kooIj1wtd2QgLEhWZ0Vk3KffXRI0XJEaiFvchcic1kvljl/s400/DSC05098.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371238023224364674" /></a><br /><br />And the sun and occasional rain seemed to suit them...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihqPz_NXiVA3vnW7LUmlT3ysgRoXR80GpsaO6dJy03tOQ2tRZmcyh3mcSa0zVPXl27anoWI5OT-qtRpe4LCOlKqJzsaHQSRZeD25JYMqgeuspeEjOw5MAQbA-zuOXl24A0BDxWUQ26jMxu/s1600-h/DSC05087.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihqPz_NXiVA3vnW7LUmlT3ysgRoXR80GpsaO6dJy03tOQ2tRZmcyh3mcSa0zVPXl27anoWI5OT-qtRpe4LCOlKqJzsaHQSRZeD25JYMqgeuspeEjOw5MAQbA-zuOXl24A0BDxWUQ26jMxu/s400/DSC05087.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371238039417923650" /></a><br /><br />The striped tiger tomatoes were probably our favourite: sharp and sweet all at the same time<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcLy6_QLyrydhkPU3UD6XFSyXqBAwJJa6SKT0NbAMyxNLm6Ys8L8AWsoarV6m8YYABakvnX-0Wlhkodoo0CBXybju_gy3Vku4ja6EKjLicSYY_kvK-Fe7zgveeNqx8naTGCvBpe5T7eKzP/s1600-h/DSC05091.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcLy6_QLyrydhkPU3UD6XFSyXqBAwJJa6SKT0NbAMyxNLm6Ys8L8AWsoarV6m8YYABakvnX-0Wlhkodoo0CBXybju_gy3Vku4ja6EKjLicSYY_kvK-Fe7zgveeNqx8naTGCvBpe5T7eKzP/s400/DSC05091.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371238048245964306" /></a><br /><br />And with produce this good cooking isn't needed: all these wanted was a little salt, pepper, olive oil and basil.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv72RFOobL_5v2GNkyhmlhNlPnAU698TcOhyjh2Zr900rBRUrzy46xBTfHE2ORX1cJE7QpdwLC1z_mbJ2R59l3XiT8Gum07RxDQjJeKd07pyrAN1R8rxNiG-1g858rDuknSJhFvLbDfT4x/s1600-h/DSC05092.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv72RFOobL_5v2GNkyhmlhNlPnAU698TcOhyjh2Zr900rBRUrzy46xBTfHE2ORX1cJE7QpdwLC1z_mbJ2R59l3XiT8Gum07RxDQjJeKd07pyrAN1R8rxNiG-1g858rDuknSJhFvLbDfT4x/s400/DSC05092.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371238053445570706" /></a>Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15089683116903121790noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2648756272651410798.post-14099746453941644382009-06-02T14:00:00.000+00:002009-06-02T14:00:00.329+00:00Warm baby artichokes with broad beans and mint<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE8Z_-EFuCTXI9QVJ80UVeGws3-zT3G89A_oIcF5CCUNns8HHagDlnOd7497mTe5GY1FK_z5DL6mjUoiVxA97FUalIyjlVi_pxK2O0eXwcFC32zAfIii6Oc0Z9x-nR8b49M6MFQN248fQQ/s1600-h/DSC04416.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE8Z_-EFuCTXI9QVJ80UVeGws3-zT3G89A_oIcF5CCUNns8HHagDlnOd7497mTe5GY1FK_z5DL6mjUoiVxA97FUalIyjlVi_pxK2O0eXwcFC32zAfIii6Oc0Z9x-nR8b49M6MFQN248fQQ/s400/DSC04416.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337079427749243842" /></a><br /><br />Something of a hiatus I know, but somehow there hasn't been that much inspiring cooking happening in my kitchen recently. Sure, there were things I could have written about but they were all a bit so-so, even the ones there were beautiful photos of didn't taste all that great. That rhubarb and custard tart I thought would look so pretty, well, it turned out a little heavy. In part I blame the vegetable gap - there are only so many roots a girl can eat. But even that won't wash as we've had pretty little lettuce fronds and spicy rocket coming from our window boxes for the past two weeks, and the organic veg box is full to the brim of lovely bright chlorophyl. So I'm searching for cooking inspiration in my photos, and while searching I remembered all the cooking we did on holiday in France. Barely three weeks ago but already it seems like an age, and I don't think I shared photos or recipes. Best of all we've now caught up and broad beans are well and truly in the shops. In fact they are even growing in my window box.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2w288o-MSEGmDLpcvGIQK4L5VHTTWBnIQ3jYDMh0mASApPcUL8mjdZF_e7169DKDMs0K2NaDrYOQWIGp64ZIajer8uAppcNN3D1TaZOc1UKkJpSPrKWiuElRcRe04raEvkeqyWwvr-gHi/s1600-h/DSC04385.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 294px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2w288o-MSEGmDLpcvGIQK4L5VHTTWBnIQ3jYDMh0mASApPcUL8mjdZF_e7169DKDMs0K2NaDrYOQWIGp64ZIajer8uAppcNN3D1TaZOc1UKkJpSPrKWiuElRcRe04raEvkeqyWwvr-gHi/s400/DSC04385.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337079423545834306" /></a><br /><br />My favourite is a dish of braised baby artichoke hearts with broad beans and mint. Every year I look out for the tiny little artichokes specially for making this, and it never fails to feel like spring when you eat it, be it as a side dish or a meal in itself.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYROvxHfI1SnhfxMcO7xnD7bSxoaTd_AHVVPBZYq6D_XXZqAJM-tgX31oyB0aVjQY6ZIAMFE5Xb65fZZQyldMo5cbUdUFcwWW2c48jBB5ZD6digmg4fNZDY_wZwafTk_ZNVSiAU70CADLR/s1600-h/DSC04336.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYROvxHfI1SnhfxMcO7xnD7bSxoaTd_AHVVPBZYq6D_XXZqAJM-tgX31oyB0aVjQY6ZIAMFE5Xb65fZZQyldMo5cbUdUFcwWW2c48jBB5ZD6digmg4fNZDY_wZwafTk_ZNVSiAU70CADLR/s400/DSC04336.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337079433424428866" /></a><br /><br />a bunch of baby artichokes - at least two per person and the smaller the better. Really ideally no more than an inch and a half in diameter<br />a handful of mint<br />a handful of broad beans each - again the smaller the better.<br />shallots - one or two each<br />olive oil, salt and pepper<br />lemon<br />white wine<br /><br />First up pod your broad beans, and if the beans themselves are any bigger than your thumb nail then you'll need to take the hard casing off them too. If on the other hand you can get your hands on immature broadbeans, about an inch or two long at most, then you needn't even pod them but can cook them whole like a french bean.<br />Now take a long impartial look at your artichokes. How beautiful they are, right? But you're about to get as close to gutting as you ever will with a vegetable. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNbvNWqSNGz6JHDPhONui-wHVz7EFHgmXiqDMHYhIkdItPR1gChJwndZqvNe12WBR8Ph83GgUDSlwZ_mAqts1nbT_Iu8vMuKjUrF0AP3P_Pq5X9-XJlOQGb-DBPALbUxhmxOzCaokScpAi/s1600-h/DSC04339.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNbvNWqSNGz6JHDPhONui-wHVz7EFHgmXiqDMHYhIkdItPR1gChJwndZqvNe12WBR8Ph83GgUDSlwZ_mAqts1nbT_Iu8vMuKjUrF0AP3P_Pq5X9-XJlOQGb-DBPALbUxhmxOzCaokScpAi/s400/DSC04339.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337079435299484002" /></a><br /><br />First up chop off the top third to half of the artichoke. It may seem wasteful but these spiny leaves aren't good to eat. At this point you want to survey the state of the inside of the artichoke itself. If the inner leaves are pointy, or there a spiny hairs which form more than a soft down in the centre then your artichokes have reached a level of maturity not ideal for this recipe. You'll need to aggressively trim out the spiky leaves and the sharp hairs or you're dinner will be rather unpalatable. If you see soft translucent petal-like leaves then all is well. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEyHdYctJqp8l2UnKC1ytNt2wEEXdOZrFaMQU4cLGMCMRw88NVvhgaJ6YiPrYrz4v7nhDtr-u4Sv6NaG4NPz456h_a3dlUHZC2cFeGb-O01C59aMVBl_phRaQsezXphNuIKVIej0NlRL-U/s1600-h/DSC04341.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEyHdYctJqp8l2UnKC1ytNt2wEEXdOZrFaMQU4cLGMCMRw88NVvhgaJ6YiPrYrz4v7nhDtr-u4Sv6NaG4NPz456h_a3dlUHZC2cFeGb-O01C59aMVBl_phRaQsezXphNuIKVIej0NlRL-U/s400/DSC04341.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337079442815897602" /></a><br /><br />Now use a sharp paring knife to cut of the outside green leaves. You essentially want to carve around the heart itself, removing the dark green fibrous leaves but leaving the base of them intact, which is a milky spring yellow.<br />Then chop each artichoke in half lengthwise. It will now look roughly like the one above. Keep each one in a bowl of water with a squeeze of lemon juice to stop discolouration.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgolyNNLok2mJw5PhbDTaLza88mxkbDQ9CK4jSHnCdOZpD_WrNha5KBNctRk4wNdHx8HXzLvc_zuFywHYejcXkPhuCfcm5ZwJzkPSMvDP47PsLUTyJFVVbfb1-o6FSJ_SeIAIFZC3DhzK8M/s1600-h/DSC04337.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgolyNNLok2mJw5PhbDTaLza88mxkbDQ9CK4jSHnCdOZpD_WrNha5KBNctRk4wNdHx8HXzLvc_zuFywHYejcXkPhuCfcm5ZwJzkPSMvDP47PsLUTyJFVVbfb1-o6FSJ_SeIAIFZC3DhzK8M/s400/DSC04337.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342727349583724258" /></a><br /><br />Cop the shallots finely and cook them in olive oil until translucent but not browned. Add the artichoke hearts and a glass of wine and pop the lid on, letting it gently simmer for 15-20 minutes. When the artichokes are nearly cooked (they should still retain a little bit, like asparagus) add the broad beans. At the table scatter with mint,, and season with salt, pepper and lemon juice.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyDMbklwOL3ZeK1NX8klWJSXydGO8Br7_LB7gH2GgCtlo8Rf5stYwnq98VH4wrRb1jksICDGRAMKdD7M1_Do8VcfUhrQ49DNWnt5Ph81dUDx_p4Po_B7aE7iNsh5Hs-de888CHIeyaCyDd/s1600-h/DSC04354.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyDMbklwOL3ZeK1NX8klWJSXydGO8Br7_LB7gH2GgCtlo8Rf5stYwnq98VH4wrRb1jksICDGRAMKdD7M1_Do8VcfUhrQ49DNWnt5Ph81dUDx_p4Po_B7aE7iNsh5Hs-de888CHIeyaCyDd/s400/DSC04354.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342727358587840722" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIuhNtici-xNozK4CxujMJvDPr6Fsq-N3VHgrWUfm2nPLMrXlBjjE329xoupv6r83S0QYpXKvhOUVRM498K8gFQBwFEqUVvP2MirE8eVaygxjzqOZrT1lF9jo1priozyk5vU_vtOeZyoXn/s1600-h/DSC04353.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIuhNtici-xNozK4CxujMJvDPr6Fsq-N3VHgrWUfm2nPLMrXlBjjE329xoupv6r83S0QYpXKvhOUVRM498K8gFQBwFEqUVvP2MirE8eVaygxjzqOZrT1lF9jo1priozyk5vU_vtOeZyoXn/s400/DSC04353.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342727352481861010" /></a>Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15089683116903121790noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2648756272651410798.post-78561998468158032942009-03-30T16:56:00.000+00:002009-03-30T16:13:58.666+00:00Hot Cross Buns<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJAAhZoq-kIeYlKKyWQ0kL7fFrf-sX_So_uxaFdoqn0gY96yDYW3V02A88u11ur-ie_GdIAKA0qt43MfMXuBIyH6lFUC_QmXrhdw_VtoMHrvTyLqQXdOGcYVQQVWQZhT7SGsPS-Cqhqopk/s1600-h/DSC04255.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 232px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJAAhZoq-kIeYlKKyWQ0kL7fFrf-sX_So_uxaFdoqn0gY96yDYW3V02A88u11ur-ie_GdIAKA0qt43MfMXuBIyH6lFUC_QmXrhdw_VtoMHrvTyLqQXdOGcYVQQVWQZhT7SGsPS-Cqhqopk/s400/DSC04255.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319013594575414434" /></a><br />I've been looking forward to making these. Last year they were lovely and I've been waiting it out until we're resepectably close to Easter. If I'd been organised I would have got these done for Mothering Sunday, as they'd be the perfect thing to wake up to. But I'm not, so instead they were afternoon tea for family who stayed the weekend with us.<br /><br />Ferment Starter:<br /><br />I large egg<br />215ml warm water<br />15g fresh yeast<br />1 ts sugar<br />55g strong white flour<br /><br />For the dough:<br />450g strong white flour<br />1 tsp salt<br />1 tsp cinnamon<br />1/4 tsp nutmeg<br />1/4 tsp cloves<br />1/4 teaspoon ground ginger<br />90g butter<br />90g sugar<br />170g of currents or raisins<br />50g mixed peel<br />zest of a lemon and an orange<br /><br />For the topping crosses:<br />2tbsp flour<br />a little milk<br />1 tsp sugar<br /><br />For the glaze:<br />1 tbsp sugar<br />2 tbsp warm water<br /><br />Use a large bowel as the starter will rise considerably. For the ferment starter whisk together the egg and water, then add the dry ingrediants and leave in warm place for 1/2 hour covered with a tea towel.The mixture should rise considerably as the yeast works its magic.<br /><br />To make the dough you can add the starter ferment and all the ingredients to the dough to a bread machine on the dough setting. If you wish to knead it by hand then first rub in the butter to the flour, then make a well in the centre of the dough and add the zest, ferment starter, spices, salt and sugar. Draw the dry ingredients into the wet with your fingers until the mixture comes together then turn out onto a floured surface and knead until the dough is smooth and elastic. At this point knead in the dried fruit.<br />Now return the dough to the bowl and place it , covered lightly, in a warm places until it doubles in size (about an hour). When it has risen turn it out again onto the floured surface and knock back the dough. The idea is to lightly knock some of the air out of the dough so it lessens in size. Shape it into a ball an cover in a warm place for half an hour to rise again.<br />Finally turn it out onto a floured surface again and divide into 12 equal pieces. This is the point to return to the recipe if you've been cutting out work with a bread machine.<br /><br />Shape the pieces into balls and place them on a well greased baking tray, with space between them. Flatten each slightly and score a cross in the top of each, then cover with a tea towel, leaving in a warm place to rest for about 40 minutes. Meanwhile mix together the topping for the crosses and turn the oven on to 240oc to preheat.<br /><br />When the buns have risen drizzle the topping over the lines formed by the crosses. Out the buns in the oven and bake for 10-15 minutes until golden brown. To make the glaze dissolve the sugar in the hot water. When the buns are cooked remove from the oven and immediately brush with the glaze. The buns can then be eaten warm straight away, or cut in half and toasted later (in which case the sugar in the glaze is likely to caramelise a lot in the toaster so watch them carefully- they have a tendency to get brown rather quickly as in the photo above).<br /><br /><br />Spring has officially sprung... I went for a walk and collected big branches of blossom<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_t74ATyAfe-vIIg9WaKlz4E-DhPz_z2QEA8xe2kP4vkDBDYaggC1wOd-t1U2UGDNkTsOZj8qXFE_c0h1fk0l4Qqw2VB-SzWl7LIdUbQih2NElzC9S5QpvbSdkKOEn32jBIYSRnCra9ae6/s1600-h/DSC04233.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_t74ATyAfe-vIIg9WaKlz4E-DhPz_z2QEA8xe2kP4vkDBDYaggC1wOd-t1U2UGDNkTsOZj8qXFE_c0h1fk0l4Qqw2VB-SzWl7LIdUbQih2NElzC9S5QpvbSdkKOEn32jBIYSRnCra9ae6/s400/DSC04233.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319004721936520978" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVp4DK5Dfrki_LnqJkbbVl9jWiewRF9UeJg-SpVjeXkFBmunCJpONM2jQzWGpawi9ywG4HmPC1TGcAgsk4-0k7QcfQiDZBn5sb-soe64WdetNdsbZaAB72nEFoU7W9wuWA4TJJ5vJq-Zrh/s1600-h/DSC04247.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVp4DK5Dfrki_LnqJkbbVl9jWiewRF9UeJg-SpVjeXkFBmunCJpONM2jQzWGpawi9ywG4HmPC1TGcAgsk4-0k7QcfQiDZBn5sb-soe64WdetNdsbZaAB72nEFoU7W9wuWA4TJJ5vJq-Zrh/s400/DSC04247.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319004723959189586" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUi6DBReaV1EgGiyaZyVBe1zVaAvQTlJS08l7v9-6XEqQon46PQDtin0Qu-ZkQm7s1IOt41BbL7qwKcTM6En_hyphenhyphen0rm8Ln-y5GyldD2gogtUJJuiH3MupDBbtYJIvzIJjJGnjhgx3wbO2-0/s1600-h/DSC04240.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUi6DBReaV1EgGiyaZyVBe1zVaAvQTlJS08l7v9-6XEqQon46PQDtin0Qu-ZkQm7s1IOt41BbL7qwKcTM6En_hyphenhyphen0rm8Ln-y5GyldD2gogtUJJuiH3MupDBbtYJIvzIJjJGnjhgx3wbO2-0/s400/DSC04240.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319004718783339426" /></a>Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15089683116903121790noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2648756272651410798.post-31450043922469710242009-02-20T12:46:00.001+00:002009-02-20T13:27:41.315+00:00Snow days<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRa-6gbLzEU4XKQglzTuK-bdLhdD9kHtg8bYgg6eUaTstV33YExLbKeRYR44fdvMmB6xuWfEkLtdA9-e85g3MCnHL451qZK_B5X93Ejbj8wF7j4-gr_clUPtSSVzxQrBkBfUmB9Jgagg6I/s1600-h/DSC04084.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRa-6gbLzEU4XKQglzTuK-bdLhdD9kHtg8bYgg6eUaTstV33YExLbKeRYR44fdvMmB6xuWfEkLtdA9-e85g3MCnHL451qZK_B5X93Ejbj8wF7j4-gr_clUPtSSVzxQrBkBfUmB9Jgagg6I/s400/DSC04084.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299666964989909970" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKbS4kiHFGnoZvxq0C4CMsF0Fh6vIUR2QAkiZFt06fwjG-d9CMCv2BcdxVXSFipRCyl1qr8QgBbwT5S7wUMHvWdL42W76PWhetw8ekFR6XDoPg52p59MabSXSWYWy0p38L6esOSr1cCWR1/s1600-h/DSC04078.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKbS4kiHFGnoZvxq0C4CMsF0Fh6vIUR2QAkiZFt06fwjG-d9CMCv2BcdxVXSFipRCyl1qr8QgBbwT5S7wUMHvWdL42W76PWhetw8ekFR6XDoPg52p59MabSXSWYWy0p38L6esOSr1cCWR1/s400/DSC04078.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299666963528775826" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv_QrJV5shPKxvsfuBdHhzyyiI_PFLPVnT9fXVQMxPynW9svNg5sgGXa93EDNWWP5qVpxS_KmwjlPLIUV54CNPs9225RL0h9zvB9pnlkCaRGQp8WxsyaDhFak-gIq1OgxwG_3gDFm9hZrZ/s1600-h/DSC04068.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv_QrJV5shPKxvsfuBdHhzyyiI_PFLPVnT9fXVQMxPynW9svNg5sgGXa93EDNWWP5qVpxS_KmwjlPLIUV54CNPs9225RL0h9zvB9pnlkCaRGQp8WxsyaDhFak-gIq1OgxwG_3gDFm9hZrZ/s400/DSC04068.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299666954551978674" /></a><br /><br />This post is late - from a couple of weeks ago when Oxford was covered in snow. Most of us seemed to be hiding at home, schools were closed, and those of us who could make it into work were wishing we didn't live walking distance away. What was a girl to do, stay home baking?<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFMQRkN_dAMCtbNW29XiIdOz1WcrrEFUFWsf03dzoqCnjMrIDJncJYLt929lwts_YdmT0Gvtl4m6q-hIyB8NAWX5OUEkAkpZqRKf1gGdpI425M8A-lq2fGfZpgzJ3apY7IdXUutGHoP7On/s1600-h/DSC04067.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFMQRkN_dAMCtbNW29XiIdOz1WcrrEFUFWsf03dzoqCnjMrIDJncJYLt929lwts_YdmT0Gvtl4m6q-hIyB8NAWX5OUEkAkpZqRKf1gGdpI425M8A-lq2fGfZpgzJ3apY7IdXUutGHoP7On/s400/DSC04067.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299666954075114610" /></a><br /><br />Or bake, breakfast and then head out into the cold rugged up with hats, gloves and scarves for snowballs. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA0bjQeEdm_mMRk9RuXg-PPJr1DzeI-Rm8nLaRMmLYGEKPp0eMay6cmG71qGJGYG47N9UnRTj6VrIgBi7w5MHVx1iHqnPGW7mYLA2xP-BigbmPmWn9EVwVJAIcat-a-KaB4qheAWweoWaN/s1600-h/DSC04105.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA0bjQeEdm_mMRk9RuXg-PPJr1DzeI-Rm8nLaRMmLYGEKPp0eMay6cmG71qGJGYG47N9UnRTj6VrIgBi7w5MHVx1iHqnPGW7mYLA2xP-BigbmPmWn9EVwVJAIcat-a-KaB4qheAWweoWaN/s400/DSC04105.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299671058319794162" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1rMTOYViBY0yib-V5glubj2WaaPDOUHQ-wVeTnRpgF3POWHyWvmYp_D5bIHqmP7IKUZaxD7gh9hRZmXU3wB_vCPqysuufpWLu9t0uqqOS6R9PPC6pfOANiQk8LpbTAgs6mFNFQfJNe65z/s1600-h/DSC04098.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1rMTOYViBY0yib-V5glubj2WaaPDOUHQ-wVeTnRpgF3POWHyWvmYp_D5bIHqmP7IKUZaxD7gh9hRZmXU3wB_vCPqysuufpWLu9t0uqqOS6R9PPC6pfOANiQk8LpbTAgs6mFNFQfJNe65z/s400/DSC04098.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299671054517339730" /></a><br /><br />Cinnamon Buns<br /><br />Many thanks to A. who lovingly translated this recipe for me from German. I then made a few additions or citrus and sultanas.<br /><br />Cinnamon Roll Cake<br /><br />1 packet of instant yeast<br />120ml Water, lukewarm<br />120ml Milk, luke warm<br />60g Margarine (plus some for spreading)<br />60g Sugar<br />1 Egg<br />1 Tsp Salt<br />480g Flour<br />zest of one lemon or orange<br /><br />For the Filling:<br />2 Tsp Cinnamon<br />40g Sugar (Brown)<br />60g butter<br />2 handfuls sultanas<br />(you can also add handfuls of finely chopped apple or nuts such as walnuts)<br /><br /> For the Icing<br />120g Powdered Sugar<br />A few drops of vanilla extract<br />1 Tbsp Milk<br /><br /><br />Dough:<br /><br />Work together all the ingredients into a nice, smooth dough, which should come away easily from the bowl. Then put it in a warm place and let it double in size. (this will take about an hour).<br /><br />Filling:<br /><br />Roll out the dough (about 76cm x 46cm). Spread margarine over all of it and sprinkle with the Cinnamon-Sugar mixture.<br /><br />Roll up the dough from the wider side, and then cut the roll into pieces, about every 4cm. Put the pieces next to each other in a greased Springform. At this point you can if you like leave the dough overnight to bake in the morning in which case cover it with a cloth and leave in a fairly cool room or it will over-rise. Heat the oven and bake at 175°C for about 25-30mins.<br /><br />Mix together the ingredients for the icing and drizzle it over the hot cake.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcw3sLK71RBkyrYOy40SerY-l6gWavEvF-fJIcWRQprL_W6bQojZuxy1j3BmiFTQcCcN3GZuryrQWi0hNQK4KcZcYVE5CqAKqCnw4mCff7RHVUPuzlFF2zGKiDLWFAsdPXjrhaBOTfmPAk/s1600-h/DSC04137.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcw3sLK71RBkyrYOy40SerY-l6gWavEvF-fJIcWRQprL_W6bQojZuxy1j3BmiFTQcCcN3GZuryrQWi0hNQK4KcZcYVE5CqAKqCnw4mCff7RHVUPuzlFF2zGKiDLWFAsdPXjrhaBOTfmPAk/s400/DSC04137.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301858663085496514" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwYISarwbb6LfTd2yl2Of3tm43kRvhCiAMY4gJCBNjoyHLxaMpD3dsJJN6pkTa4rgTGNxhbB4YtYL9CtK0bj2nYmZNm7KhsnyvVsvQNP4Tq7fK9N2Enb3WD9iB-D22dttbwDQDlLJ47q19/s1600-h/DSC04142.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 394px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwYISarwbb6LfTd2yl2Of3tm43kRvhCiAMY4gJCBNjoyHLxaMpD3dsJJN6pkTa4rgTGNxhbB4YtYL9CtK0bj2nYmZNm7KhsnyvVsvQNP4Tq7fK9N2Enb3WD9iB-D22dttbwDQDlLJ47q19/s400/DSC04142.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301858660072234178" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAKBQKUIfKSnj54-StmofqqAhe8-6KxBFfWSfXSDy_6_wWrw01xJ8PlLUSkEm94GfiJ-MONnEZGzy7uMYst2yNgF2mcfNiOiQ3LMzOrF04KItvh0C9G3pDh2pm8k1c7Tco7WMv9flIMubs/s1600-h/DSC04094.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAKBQKUIfKSnj54-StmofqqAhe8-6KxBFfWSfXSDy_6_wWrw01xJ8PlLUSkEm94GfiJ-MONnEZGzy7uMYst2yNgF2mcfNiOiQ3LMzOrF04KItvh0C9G3pDh2pm8k1c7Tco7WMv9flIMubs/s400/DSC04094.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299671055301008610" /></a>Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15089683116903121790noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2648756272651410798.post-53198920129767213202009-02-05T20:51:00.004+00:002009-02-06T12:46:19.967+00:00Beetroot and Goats Cheese Salad<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTNa-ZTYhQWEfHWLdE0_IQqRemA7vkpPQJ0C7wfglFpg0AyRktKCe4tOV-NqoC9vyWaXqAV5LqMlXvI_bfhK-PwSKcYQnKEYqEA9QPDUMvdlZ0vgjGONU9vhetFuU9rQOToPpvGaWZtMn3/s1600-h/DSC04055.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTNa-ZTYhQWEfHWLdE0_IQqRemA7vkpPQJ0C7wfglFpg0AyRktKCe4tOV-NqoC9vyWaXqAV5LqMlXvI_bfhK-PwSKcYQnKEYqEA9QPDUMvdlZ0vgjGONU9vhetFuU9rQOToPpvGaWZtMn3/s400/DSC04055.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299664132019955666" /></a><br />This is a lovely way of using up the masses of beetroot that are making it into my veg box at the moment. The sweet beetroot with the sharp goats cheese is great, and really wakens up the taste buds in the dead of winter.<br /><br />4 or so beetroot<br />handful of parsley<br />goats cheese<br /><br />Boil the beetroot with their skins on in salted water until just tender. Let them cool a little and then peel them and slice thinly. Drizzle a little olive oil over them, chop the parsley roughly, scatter it and the crumbled goats cheese over the beetroot, and season with a little salt and black pepper.Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15089683116903121790noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2648756272651410798.post-67154599984683297342009-02-04T14:25:00.008+00:002009-02-04T15:32:05.238+00:00Valentines Dayis fast approaching...<br /><br />If I was in Paris I would like to wake up to something from Boulangerie Veronique Mauclerc<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheALRl_OAUdezmaGzom5yzYyS4I4rbBFy_TogvNgP46ITFg65d29Yzgs4A_3i1HVZsq4Oyo9-k8P2qYfNMolvraMv_koFPju4M0F4nvdqDG-0NEgcJsJUp-R4xlHNT0DwkuR-XUsh2qxAC/s1600-h/DSC03467-pola.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 329px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheALRl_OAUdezmaGzom5yzYyS4I4rbBFy_TogvNgP46ITFg65d29Yzgs4A_3i1HVZsq4Oyo9-k8P2qYfNMolvraMv_koFPju4M0F4nvdqDG-0NEgcJsJUp-R4xlHNT0DwkuR-XUsh2qxAC/s400/DSC03467-pola.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298959734500411666" /></a><br /><br />and a walk around Parc des Buttes Chaumont<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj93CRsksv2uRJ2sEeG5QmHg899Dx-kDf62idem5SNCRTiR4CLWrRv5linOGPqIGzt7l1DLLYhrSjPoKupd4CPozeiEE9axRGFycveHtQCdF7vPUQ9wIT4leesFe3HMvWdeLapP16jEgAMO/s1600-h/DSC03353-pola.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 329px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj93CRsksv2uRJ2sEeG5QmHg899Dx-kDf62idem5SNCRTiR4CLWrRv5linOGPqIGzt7l1DLLYhrSjPoKupd4CPozeiEE9axRGFycveHtQCdF7vPUQ9wIT4leesFe3HMvWdeLapP16jEgAMO/s400/DSC03353-pola.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298954781005395010" /></a><br /><br />Then I think I'd really have to go here<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzfH3XKfhXorbED4kelMJAjs95YTrK8Nlq8-tfviwauVc53m7d5if_B-nUnKZeKDlEXnrfF6vJUiIeEmItjmgAxepfRZjktZgTc002TGgGXWEDUbE5jaQ7wCDxtmSutU-lpVXDY9nk4EBd/s1600-h/DSC03314-pola.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 329px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzfH3XKfhXorbED4kelMJAjs95YTrK8Nlq8-tfviwauVc53m7d5if_B-nUnKZeKDlEXnrfF6vJUiIeEmItjmgAxepfRZjktZgTc002TGgGXWEDUbE5jaQ7wCDxtmSutU-lpVXDY9nk4EBd/s400/DSC03314-pola.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298949792206347714" /></a><br /><br />for a little bit of bit of cake and people watching.<br /><br />Or even better to Gerard Mulot<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjig6HsT3EpMpWfaPx2TYpZ8A0rHt47lhb2GMElWXmse3WK60AVF7zVUUmjEP4jZM5L6MFFpJFmaeSGhCdYVe0LmPCQCVPe8M_oj6wcCnZ8wgG6xJvwcibL6Jf9hcX1JTKZmWTtwb-DlsKr/s1600-h/DSC02789-pola.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 329px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjig6HsT3EpMpWfaPx2TYpZ8A0rHt47lhb2GMElWXmse3WK60AVF7zVUUmjEP4jZM5L6MFFpJFmaeSGhCdYVe0LmPCQCVPe8M_oj6wcCnZ8wgG6xJvwcibL6Jf9hcX1JTKZmWTtwb-DlsKr/s400/DSC02789-pola.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298954788030101602" /></a><br /><br />Which would leave on the right side of the river for a stroll around the beautiful gardens at the Musee Rodin<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSBCLDEPfk5d0xZyfJ_sjdMd0KQjpHAqr3ePehoAxUYfEbr1ERyI9FKDVPD7D-MuJifV3IHfpHOQ8vzY5ZhwxpvPlQbEUggnFF2a_tcy_9UAvtOYjMYWKixQu-SzmpaEIZDPlMqVU27-cc/s1600-h/DSC03378-pola.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 329px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSBCLDEPfk5d0xZyfJ_sjdMd0KQjpHAqr3ePehoAxUYfEbr1ERyI9FKDVPD7D-MuJifV3IHfpHOQ8vzY5ZhwxpvPlQbEUggnFF2a_tcy_9UAvtOYjMYWKixQu-SzmpaEIZDPlMqVU27-cc/s400/DSC03378-pola.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298954782910465602" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAS1jl6zoAf9QV87LJpCu6BXjMo_keA0iD9PQgAxkIRKrkJoOhTa541y_bkPBxKqVcvTtVC30Lj3kpayLH-nm2yDZaIcltrhCF9i6M892D5NzLHXeRsivv_2Barf2CS-sP1_1fdDWq49Sx/s1600-h/DSC03225-pola.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 329px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAS1jl6zoAf9QV87LJpCu6BXjMo_keA0iD9PQgAxkIRKrkJoOhTa541y_bkPBxKqVcvTtVC30Lj3kpayLH-nm2yDZaIcltrhCF9i6M892D5NzLHXeRsivv_2Barf2CS-sP1_1fdDWq49Sx/s400/DSC03225-pola.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298952179408290210" /></a><br /><br />And home to a bottle of something chilled and bubbly from here<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKe7-WCQ2xFOMgmrIABnvj4ckHQMODhKLRGrvrDzn2hfYA3sx5foW3724u-Cx2TsO1tRNc8xOuSZr0JHbxezixti6kGG_ob8w7d4fYkZ1Yjl2Sl_sjlU1RF3DO5xrDTP-TwPkslGe31HkS/s1600-h/DSC03249-pola.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 329px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKe7-WCQ2xFOMgmrIABnvj4ckHQMODhKLRGrvrDzn2hfYA3sx5foW3724u-Cx2TsO1tRNc8xOuSZr0JHbxezixti6kGG_ob8w7d4fYkZ1Yjl2Sl_sjlU1RF3DO5xrDTP-TwPkslGe31HkS/s400/DSC03249-pola.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298952183575625282" /></a><br /><br />But I'm not in Paris...<br /><br />So I'll settle for something like this<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd2Lv3cq3UWZa_-Da8WHkVekwN7BqJA4mEcPqFDUv680zovvS4cbWsaisDUPA1y94ZT8U5f2ylr8MkDPBBi0ogvxvsMYFsGkl2j6ajGBkAN3BCaALVbiLTEHyvKWej7SCJa0hrspN492Z2/s1600-h/DSC00607-pola.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 329px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd2Lv3cq3UWZa_-Da8WHkVekwN7BqJA4mEcPqFDUv680zovvS4cbWsaisDUPA1y94ZT8U5f2ylr8MkDPBBi0ogvxvsMYFsGkl2j6ajGBkAN3BCaALVbiLTEHyvKWej7SCJa0hrspN492Z2/s400/DSC00607-pola.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298959725908430018" /></a><br /><br />Or a walk through the Botanical Gardens and down by the river<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ8ABrlwBEKKqvFAhuiNBKuZUeKoh-QvXG7e37t2A0rF1koJectJpxEkky3H9Sl2WMQthXVqntDafvA8G0WXdie-zI7YPSKJug3A-UnswH5sYzzmKOu-cn2NQqIUIUGs6oCW8qbuHjhmTu/s1600-h/DSC00590-pola.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 329px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ8ABrlwBEKKqvFAhuiNBKuZUeKoh-QvXG7e37t2A0rF1koJectJpxEkky3H9Sl2WMQthXVqntDafvA8G0WXdie-zI7YPSKJug3A-UnswH5sYzzmKOu-cn2NQqIUIUGs6oCW8qbuHjhmTu/s400/DSC00590-pola.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298959695861881922" /></a>Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15089683116903121790noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2648756272651410798.post-41386179334504074092008-08-31T09:52:00.000+00:002008-09-01T06:38:14.020+00:00The Best Icecream in Paris?I had a little bit of a revelation over the last two months in Paris: Berthillion isn't the best icecream in Paris. In fact personally it doesn't even come close. Here are three places that do:<br /><br />La Maison du Chocolat<br /><br />Sure, not a big selection of icecream, but when you have a chocolate sorbet this good, who needs choices? And if you felt the need to veer off the path of pure unadulturated cacao, then the caramel with fleur de sel would be an excellent bet, as would the apricot with rosemary.<br /><br />Eric Kayser<br /><br />Icecream isn't the only reason you want to come here: the fruit tarts are pretty great too, as are the quiche. But the pistachio icecream knocks out any competitors. An iridescent green, and with little nibs of pistachio studded through the icecream, it is fabulous, rich and creamy. <br /><br />Hediard<br /><br />I haven't had a better fruit sorbet. They also have the benefit of being pretty competitively priced at 2 euros a scoop: this may be the best deal there is in Place du Madeline. My two favourites are the strawberry and the fig, neither is too sweet and taste purely and cleanly of ripe fruit. Come here for a kick of summer.Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15089683116903121790noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2648756272651410798.post-8784663962858097612008-08-30T14:51:00.000+00:002008-09-01T06:38:48.388+00:00La Boulangerie Veronique Mauclerc<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8xfVi_dR10mZ3WCI90wMELXVwmrR5AfsSX77fwjiTXPqhFAGm_L-M32ql8hDynDGZqdFmM_rn_4knmkQUcJc_apJ0y0GHqx09wAfgrGh0Ct7633PrK5dbi4nquCc6sClRHn0BGm7GVemT/s1600-h/DSC03463.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8xfVi_dR10mZ3WCI90wMELXVwmrR5AfsSX77fwjiTXPqhFAGm_L-M32ql8hDynDGZqdFmM_rn_4knmkQUcJc_apJ0y0GHqx09wAfgrGh0Ct7633PrK5dbi4nquCc6sClRHn0BGm7GVemT/s400/DSC03463.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240937434659088130" /></a><br /><br />This is simply the most beautiful little boulangerie in Paris. I've been here two months now, and I've eaten a lot of bread, from baguettes, via sourdough, to little brioche feuillette noisette, but this is the best. That's saying something. There are a lot of boulangeries in Paris. Chi chi little ones with gleaming stainless steel counters, so-so ones with baguettes that don't do it, bobo ones with cereals, snobby ones where you wonder if really a macaroon is that difficult to make (it is), but this beats them all. It is simple and honest and fantastically good. It lends itself to a lazy day and a late brunch. It is personable and relaxed. Sure, its way out, but then so am I. All the way out of Paris to be exact, past the peripherique and in Ile de France itself. Or Le Pre Sainte-Gervais. So for me Veronique Mauclerc is just a hop over the peripherique (or actually under), and into the 19th, at 83 rue du crimee. And yes, that may be a schlep for you, but its really worth it.<br /><br />For a start it has a wood fired oven, and if you google it then you'll find that makes it only one of four in Paris, and its all the way out here because you can't move a wood fired oven. I was intrigued by the woodfired oven, to be sure, and of course, it makes the bread great, and different, especially if you add the organic flour and sourdough. But for me this isn't the selling point. Rather it is the obvious love and care which is lavished without pretension, on both bread and customer, which makes it simply lovely. Its homely and relaxed, while being stupendously good. You sort of wonder if they know how good...<br /><br />We went for brunch, which is 10.90 euro (a veritable bargain in Paris), and comes with the choice of sucree or sale. Both involve tea or coffee, and orange juice, and the sucree gives you a choice of venoisserie followed by a choice of fruit tart, with a selection of sweet breads and jams, while the sale gives you a choice of quiche, followed by choice of fruit tart with a selection of savoury breads. We chose one of each, and both were excellent. One deceptively light chocolate croissant for me, a wonderfully rich slice of quiche with potatoes and reblochon for A. Then a chocolate, pear and walnut tart for me, and an apple and raisin tart for A. Great pastry, the chocolate pastry on the pear tart being a particular revelation. But oh the bread. For A. a great basket of sourdough studded with mushrooms (which was amusing because mushrooms are one of his only dislikes). But my basket of sweet breads more than made up for it. A chestnut flour, honey and hazelnut bread was a particular favourite, all deep and woodsy, but the walnut and raisin bread was also fantastic, while the saffron brioche with walnuts and orange flour water was light and ethereal. Neither of us was a fan of the chocolate, banana and pineapple bread, but that was more a personal preference. Of course we couldn't finish all this, but were very helpfully sent home with what remained.<br /><br />I returned a few days later, in search of the chestnut flour bread with honey and hazelnuts. Though they didn't have the same bread I tried a much lighter chestnut floured bread with praline, all sweet and light and almost brioche. To go with it a savoury sourdough studded with a profusion of pistachios, hazelnuts and almonds, which was fantastic with goats cheese for lunch.<br /><br />A few little things. Though they are open all through August and July, its best to call to check that they are serving brunch. We waded through some unseasonable rain to try brunch recently, only to find that the lady serving was all alone, and therefore unable to serve food to eat in. So check, especially if its raining and you were planning on warming up in front of the bread oven. Also, don't expect it to be anything but rustic: the first day we went they had run out of butter for the bread (not that it needed it), and you get coffee and lait chaud not expresso or cappuccino. But that is the charm of the place. On a sunny day Parc des Buttes Chaumont is just over the road and a beautiful little place to take breakfast.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS1brC2ywumHBqMCl7xrK2SFyG-xBOECe6_-_lPqqMdFZ21f8ArFj2fbvsznREJSWr1Aj8eCeaSKySnmlXEepa2YAQsv3dT9kgaIUQjXVKr4p7Gd2zHofozfGRTPlvxcrRfymxpvyMxUrN/s1600-h/DSC03467.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS1brC2ywumHBqMCl7xrK2SFyG-xBOECe6_-_lPqqMdFZ21f8ArFj2fbvsznREJSWr1Aj8eCeaSKySnmlXEepa2YAQsv3dT9kgaIUQjXVKr4p7Gd2zHofozfGRTPlvxcrRfymxpvyMxUrN/s400/DSC03467.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240937440312745330" /></a>Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15089683116903121790noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2648756272651410798.post-71512835956946960732008-08-26T10:03:00.003+00:002008-08-26T10:13:32.843+00:00Sunday Organic MarketI have been remiss - I spectacularly failed to take pictures of my outing here. But it was lovely, so lovely that it reminded me more of little villages in the south than the hustle and brazen bustle of Paris. In fact it was really only the Parisian prices that reminded me where I was... Boulevard Raspail right in the 6th arronissement.<br /><br />More misshapen but beautiful tomatoes have not been seen, in a rainbow of orange, yellow, green, purple and red, some diminutive, some huge and swollen like a bruise. Little bunches of onions, papery shallots, the wonderfully bulbous pumpkins and winter squash beginning to make an appearance, the last of the summer squash being sold off cheap. Wonderful milk, cream, creme fraiche and yoghurt, goats cheese and sheeps cheese and a comte which was sublime. These are just some of the many reasons you should go, shop, eat, and that I should have brought my camera.<br /><br />Raspail Organic Market, between rue de Cherche midi and rue de Rennes<br />Sunday Mornings, from 9am to 2pm (earlier in bad weather)Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15089683116903121790noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2648756272651410798.post-82842023533190510552008-08-20T16:17:00.003+00:002008-08-22T11:36:25.275+00:00Goats cheese and fig salad<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFBY_oLT7DZBp4l9FsnhmZaQUsfb_i2q_VLzoc7nMJVvICXhPPHpYcIjZiHfHocSq7i07bPRSrF0EDhahYAcGq2KzjaWKyM35mt7o5PYksmGZAIPF5mDcCKIQvMk3a6StNJvRqwlhLYjqt/s1600-h/DSC03305.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFBY_oLT7DZBp4l9FsnhmZaQUsfb_i2q_VLzoc7nMJVvICXhPPHpYcIjZiHfHocSq7i07bPRSrF0EDhahYAcGq2KzjaWKyM35mt7o5PYksmGZAIPF5mDcCKIQvMk3a6StNJvRqwlhLYjqt/s400/DSC03305.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236635426272135042" /></a><br /><br />Not really cooking, not even really a recipe. But my time in Paris has been peppered with little things like this, be it a simple green salad, some lovely charentais melon, or a perfect slice of terrine. <br /><br />I adore figs, and at home they are an expensive treat. But at 2 euros a kilo salad becomes a distinct possibility, and with a little mild goats cheese and a few walnuts lunch is complete. If you feel like it a drizzle of olive oil or, if the figs are not particularly sweet, honey go well, but really all a lunch like this requires is good bread, and perhaps a small glass of wine.Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15089683116903121790noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2648756272651410798.post-55536491726411374872008-07-13T13:36:00.003+00:002008-12-11T07:11:15.922+00:00Courgette and Mint Salad<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixVDRi6IWkD35CZIoOEvKzPf6GAiIOpA87dX5C6U8Z2uo7fUCPoxTFdR4-z0VuBc_yJ_P1kCrIGyAxzzrjiP6dt0EBXQJFvp6cbBjJ30dYe4-WdC482CF4_nkSLJM-DhOqyI7I8BUmX0zC/s1600-h/DSC02894.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixVDRi6IWkD35CZIoOEvKzPf6GAiIOpA87dX5C6U8Z2uo7fUCPoxTFdR4-z0VuBc_yJ_P1kCrIGyAxzzrjiP6dt0EBXQJFvp6cbBjJ30dYe4-WdC482CF4_nkSLJM-DhOqyI7I8BUmX0zC/s400/DSC02894.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222500004095700306" /></a><br /><br />I had a lovely afternoon wandering around the chocolate shops and patisseries in the sixth arrondisement yesterday afternoon. I meant to take photos, really I did. I was sure I'd brought me camera with me. So sure, in fact, that when it wasn't I panicked and reported it to the police as stolen, which made me feel very foolish when I came home to find it lying on the table. Foolish, but also relieved.<div><br /></div><div>In the morning I had dragged myself out of bed, and to the market downstairs. It really tarts itself up for Saturdays, with flower stalls, more butchers, a lovely little cheese place and a stall heaving with olives that I meant to return to but forgot. Also it was packed, I presume in preparation for Bastille day on Monday, and there was a roaring trade in artichokes, asparagus and cherries. The stall that sells mainly herbs and salad had some lovely little courgettes, so I joined the elderly women to slyly sift through to find the smallest, most delicate ones. With a big bunch of mint and a bulb of garlic that was me set for supper.</div><div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcxW0yt6l9EAQUsqHFi9P9lAA7lXvVMAjnthbvvm20JTHQjEh7WrGuLydpu6G1As6BCjzwjC_0Yz2LVtMWOn6SncfgFGID3dbVXkFlUmgt3_LJ0HISCn5miELK0t8n3CzRXyoeguIPhAO5/s1600-h/DSC02886.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcxW0yt6l9EAQUsqHFi9P9lAA7lXvVMAjnthbvvm20JTHQjEh7WrGuLydpu6G1As6BCjzwjC_0Yz2LVtMWOn6SncfgFGID3dbVXkFlUmgt3_LJ0HISCn5miELK0t8n3CzRXyoeguIPhAO5/s400/DSC02886.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222500014080045426" /></a><br /><br /></div><div>I can't claim to have invented this, indeed a very good friend once cooked it as one of a number of warm dishes to eat over Sunday lunch, soaking up the sunshine and wine. It was, and is, simply brilliant. A lovely, light and very interesting dish which banishes all horrible childhood memories of courgettes cooked to oblivion.</div><div><br /></div><div>I say salad, but really it could act as a side vegetable to some lovely fish, on its own or with a number of little plates to pick at as we did. I like it best warm, but it needn't be hot, and you shouldn't worry about it coming to room temperature over the course of the meal, or indeed as you cook the courgettes. In fact it is far more important to fry the courgettes in small batches in order to get the right texture to them, than to make sure its piping hot.</div><div><br /></div><div>courgettes</div><div>garlic (about one clove per person)</div><div>olive oil</div><div>mint</div><div><br /></div><div>Slice the courgettes lengthwise about half a centimetre thick. Heat the olive oil (be generous) and when it is sizzling lay the courgettes in the pan, spread out so that they do not overlap. If you put in too many, they will take too long to cook, and will turn out limp and insipid. Brown one side on a medium to high heat, then flip them and brown the other. You want a nicely coloured exterior, but not to cook them for too long: they should still have some bite. Cook them in batches, and as you near the end of the last batch, throw in the garlic finely chopped. You want it to cook, in order to take some of the fierceness out of it, but you don't want it black. Pour the garlic and olive oil over the cooked courgettes, season with salt and pepper, and liberally scatter with chopped mint.</div>Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15089683116903121790noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2648756272651410798.post-56123806856074367372008-07-01T12:42:00.004+00:002008-12-11T07:11:16.279+00:00Macaroni with Fennel and LardonsMy idea of comfort food is pasta in any kind of creamy sauce. Be it a plain carbonara, mushrooms with garlic, parsley, or petit pois and bacon, liberal cream takes the worries of the world away. The market below my apartment had the sweetest diminutive fennel: two nestled in the palm of my hand and seemed an appropriate supper for one. Indeed it almost seemed a shame to slice them: if it were not the middle of summer I would have been tempted to braise them whole in cream, butter and parmesan as my father used to as a side dish for roast pork or chicken when I was a child. As it was the sweet aniseed of the fennel complemented the crisp lardons perfectly, and made what is usually a heavy dish lighter.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEN0Ec140kLeOipjOO3vlCfoKlTzyIs-alKj_1a51qxRuBwgbj5D0Q_rBk9AlP0M5H-8TGYHVCKaywohkowKt4mKpqC0LkskFMCWIvhL8y9LAYII4-jY_fap4WpShe7KF278l17mI_0DJK/s1600-h/DSC02753.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEN0Ec140kLeOipjOO3vlCfoKlTzyIs-alKj_1a51qxRuBwgbj5D0Q_rBk9AlP0M5H-8TGYHVCKaywohkowKt4mKpqC0LkskFMCWIvhL8y9LAYII4-jY_fap4WpShe7KF278l17mI_0DJK/s400/DSC02753.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218007876825753250" /></a><br /><br />pasta<br />fennel<br />creme fraiche<br />lardons<br />thyme<br />bay leaf<br />comte<br /><br />While the water for the pasta was boiling I fried a little pancetta until crisp with a bay leaf and some thyme, then added the thinly cut fennel. Into the boiling water (well salted) went the pasta, and when this was done, the fennel was cooked. A few liberal spoons of creme fraiche and some grated comte went in with the fennel, and then the sauce was ready for the pasta.Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15089683116903121790noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2648756272651410798.post-9341420618417670192008-06-24T21:22:00.004+00:002008-12-11T07:11:16.988+00:00Paris...is where I'm living for the next two months. Proof see?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsElTQASpudCDW3ImkycYRsoH8yBhbAdmcr9NHHhKiB0MbI2ODMsoYvecCzwB711md3QSsk6SLCq4JhU5097JDB_BDKxoAYrXwUGw2DNxYyAl51wZSumIYj6bRkbZdPj6NCqs8385fbuwY/s1600-h/DSC02706.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsElTQASpudCDW3ImkycYRsoH8yBhbAdmcr9NHHhKiB0MbI2ODMsoYvecCzwB711md3QSsk6SLCq4JhU5097JDB_BDKxoAYrXwUGw2DNxYyAl51wZSumIYj6bRkbZdPj6NCqs8385fbuwY/s400/DSC02706.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215564311429736674" /></a><br /><br />My first icecream of many was a sorbet from Hediard. The lightest, freshest, most summery strawberry sorbet a girl could wish for. And hard earned from a morning of lugging too much luggage (books, all books) from London.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDdyxwVQjTOqacvRWTMNaYsEEiK1I6blttFN2m0Qmaksbdz7eCPyF86aN1s05w3pdNxm5m5CXzCmmd9FAZbRx9Gv9ZAidfkb6Qoe_bmry2rOAoxkfUsetkEJKyn7zEFijityerBEgEeGcL/s1600-h/DSC02729.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDdyxwVQjTOqacvRWTMNaYsEEiK1I6blttFN2m0Qmaksbdz7eCPyF86aN1s05w3pdNxm5m5CXzCmmd9FAZbRx9Gv9ZAidfkb6Qoe_bmry2rOAoxkfUsetkEJKyn7zEFijityerBEgEeGcL/s400/DSC02729.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215561846447229890" /></a><br /><br />After my walk through the louvre and tuileries relaxing on the steps at Place du Madeline amid a gaggle of American tourists was about all I could manage.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuvodRnvon8wSF6xCVPUaVdwT0rgQm5TonB5_9rDJd_iVymjwHeRo23fLFHEi2ogW5h2KcyuKyKvsISsaO8Hy-Dqpl_fcCtFo4DTXD99ZBxjZ2oPq_cISax6GwSv9gdpIpE-ncBuz7FBlj/s1600-h/DSC02730.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuvodRnvon8wSF6xCVPUaVdwT0rgQm5TonB5_9rDJd_iVymjwHeRo23fLFHEi2ogW5h2KcyuKyKvsISsaO8Hy-Dqpl_fcCtFo4DTXD99ZBxjZ2oPq_cISax6GwSv9gdpIpE-ncBuz7FBlj/s400/DSC02730.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215564308224967618" /></a>Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15089683116903121790noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2648756272651410798.post-28554002340987335492008-06-09T12:22:00.004+00:002008-12-11T07:11:17.699+00:00When the temperature starts to soar...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF4eMjcVSaUDLZujU9lt3E6FwtJE34JuK69NWqeI3zYHgFHX3-WAOOujPCtz_92ve_XZKKjfudVxA9irSrQ7rQ66S1V83fJt1zgVdjNmjpcjlXzHj2K9BUxxOzXJGkvNA2syMm4qLaWIDf/s1600-h/DSC02660.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF4eMjcVSaUDLZujU9lt3E6FwtJE34JuK69NWqeI3zYHgFHX3-WAOOujPCtz_92ve_XZKKjfudVxA9irSrQ7rQ66S1V83fJt1zgVdjNmjpcjlXzHj2K9BUxxOzXJGkvNA2syMm4qLaWIDf/s400/DSC02660.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209889168287694770" /></a><br /><br />It is searingly hot outside. Cooking is simply out of the question, and were it not for the fact that I have tons of work to do, I would be sitting in the shade, fan aimed at me, drinking lemonade and reading a rubbish novel with my feet stuck in a bucket of water. Unfortunately all that work means I'm just settling for lemonade and shade.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6TvEhRUZMiWEgY4fAbhWx7E5f6OxouYT2ZN_iAjyYD0RwB89gG1_-J971KHhNku6mxXgJeR9JBFRF-I-syb6vBuzckiGroCC-7T8I2hrlgI8yMFggBl6MwEdey9p2t7NymB5G8e0KXyr6/s1600-h/DSC02656.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6TvEhRUZMiWEgY4fAbhWx7E5f6OxouYT2ZN_iAjyYD0RwB89gG1_-J971KHhNku6mxXgJeR9JBFRF-I-syb6vBuzckiGroCC-7T8I2hrlgI8yMFggBl6MwEdey9p2t7NymB5G8e0KXyr6/s400/DSC02656.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209889180803105938" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfFXKtl6tuvEwBZs-rVMw-0ZJJZ1Us8-3s4gXIm49KdjjgTdMGjFo-3MuyGrlrrf7GUzUTT9rYBhjlfCSTdLbZ1iHW2F3fuiQFU2GCNOrHVkYjYrMmFhcaM3VSYTBhI7XyuDDFFJlmPINU/s1600-h/DSC02654.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfFXKtl6tuvEwBZs-rVMw-0ZJJZ1Us8-3s4gXIm49KdjjgTdMGjFo-3MuyGrlrrf7GUzUTT9rYBhjlfCSTdLbZ1iHW2F3fuiQFU2GCNOrHVkYjYrMmFhcaM3VSYTBhI7XyuDDFFJlmPINU/s400/DSC02654.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209889188168857682" /></a><br /><br />Lemonade<br /><br />3 Lemons<br />A big jug<br />sugar to taste<br />ice<br /><br />Juice two of the lemons, and slice the other finely. Put the juice and lemon in the jug, with water and sugar to taste, and lots of ice. If you want to make it more interesting a little lemon verbena torn roughly and popped in goes very well.Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15089683116903121790noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2648756272651410798.post-68608138864908823082008-06-06T14:07:00.000+00:002008-12-11T07:11:17.912+00:00Globe Artichokes<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7orSgYxAMCpeqRIO4jGiI0lSJYPpSfm6vBsAhDgH5bVzhu0R21_4D1LgB9TMJFUpc74p663hqWB_2WdA7rUkYYs5FkJr2cdkPxORPn8qxGmv0A1BCMyBJX1TEKxLSNqmYZXsxhxoV-AA5/s1600-h/DSC02013.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7orSgYxAMCpeqRIO4jGiI0lSJYPpSfm6vBsAhDgH5bVzhu0R21_4D1LgB9TMJFUpc74p663hqWB_2WdA7rUkYYs5FkJr2cdkPxORPn8qxGmv0A1BCMyBJX1TEKxLSNqmYZXsxhxoV-AA5/s400/DSC02013.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208697053784203250" /></a><br /><br />Globe artichokes beat jerusalem artichokes hands down. They may not be fashionable, but they're the best. Just as Jerusalem artichokes signal that you're in the dead of winter and there isn't much in the way of vegetables that aren't roots, globe artichokes hail that eating outside with your fingers on long sunny afternoons has arrived.<br /><br />I'm boring with artichokes. I boil them and then serve them whole for everyone to peel off the petals to eat dipped in butter. This is no work at all for the cook, but a little taxing for the diner. Good conversation, good wine, or both are required. They are plenty of other lovely things to do with them, but I think simplicity is all. If you don't then there is a lovely recipe in one of the Moro cookbooks for artichoke hearts braised with peas, mint and sherry which is fabulous, subtle and interesting.<br /><br />Friday afternoon and lots of reading to do seemed the perfect excuse for a solitary artichoke lunch with a glass of white bordeaux and a cardigan to keep away the chill outside.<br /><br />To cook artichokes peak off any mangled outer petal, or any that look particularly tough and cut the stalk at the base. Boil a large pan of salted water, and add the artichokes. The time they take to cook varies enormously with size, anything form 20-45 minutes I find. They are done when you can easily peel off an outside petal, but the flesh on the inside of it still holds bite. I like a little pat of butter on the side of my plate, to smear the petals over, but a vinaigrette made with lemon is also good.Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15089683116903121790noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2648756272651410798.post-6030441808404379012008-03-15T16:10:00.001+00:002008-12-11T07:11:18.358+00:00If you're not into Marmalade......then Orangettes are the way forward. I got a lot of lovely bitter Seville oranges from Riverford, and since Marmalade only needs to get made every five years or so in my house, I've started making them into the candied orange peel needed for Orangettes. I'm a big fan of candied orange peel dipped in chocolate at the best of times, but the Seville oranges make all the difference. As in Marmalade, they give a deep, zesty taste which just isn't achievable with normal oranges. And of course it goes perfectly with good dark chocolate.<br /><br />It raining outside was the perfect excuse for this kind of project.So I've peeled, removed the pith, and chopped the peel into fine strips, boiled it in water three times to remove too much bitterness, and boiled it again in sugar syrup until it was sweetly edible. The house is filled with an uplifting smell that reminds me of christmas, and I'm covered in a thin film of sugar (as is the kitchen).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEGoR65YgtyyF-NsYl4uaIdTXtPsZ7Iy_IRfosjokPGbHdiFinYIQoRG2feuGK8Kc0BuAFq2Kf0qR3E1oAVYwd4vI0irzQtEZadvlfSALCu1Dz15IU9SsxZWtA_p7JAeEl-nmw463idXfZ/s1600-h/DSC02515.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEGoR65YgtyyF-NsYl4uaIdTXtPsZ7Iy_IRfosjokPGbHdiFinYIQoRG2feuGK8Kc0BuAFq2Kf0qR3E1oAVYwd4vI0irzQtEZadvlfSALCu1Dz15IU9SsxZWtA_p7JAeEl-nmw463idXfZ/s400/DSC02515.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178000191766796818" /></a><br />But my orange peel is now drying in long stripes on the kitchen counter ready for dipping in tempered chocolate tomorrow.Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15089683116903121790noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2648756272651410798.post-44585553328831001172008-03-15T14:46:00.000+00:002008-03-15T14:57:49.270+00:00Cinnamon BunsMy mother used to make cinnamon buns for breakfast for us when I was a child with relative frequency. She'd use tons of butter, but convince herself they were healthy because of the brown flour she used. I loved them: there isn't anything as good as sticky cinnamon buns, and I'd hack the burnt buttery sugar globs off the bottom of the pan and spread them on. The one or two left over made an excellent mid-afternoon snack, especially spread with yet more butter and accompanied by a hot mug of tea. It's only now I'm older and life is filled with the hectic everyday chores of filling in applications and paying the gas bill that I realise quite how fantastic and organised it was to have hot cinnamon rolls ready for breakfast on a regular basis. Somehow when she made then I just tripped down the stairs and into the kitchen, and was not in the least surprised to find the table laid, coffee made, orange juice poured and the sweet smell of sugar.<br /><br />Though A. is a dab hand with the expresso machine in the morning, he isn't a breakfast person at all. And when he is it's protein he's after not refined carbohydrate. Few people can eat there way through a batch of cinnamon buns alone, so until now I hadn't made them. But this afternoon the wind howled, and it rained all over my washing, and somehow all this added up to a deep desire to bake something warm and sweet and satisfying. So I halved the recipe. And it turns out I can make a pretty good dent on half a batch of cinnamon buns, even when eating alone.<br /><br />(this recipe will make a full batch, but you can reduce the filling by half and bake half of the dough into plain bread rolls)<br /><br />For the bread:<br />500g white bread flour<br />3tbsp of yoghurt<br />1 egg<br />75ml milk<br />200ml water<br />1 tsp salt<br />1 1/2 tsp instant yeast <br />2 tsp sugar<br /><br />For the filling:<br />125g of butter<br />4tsp cinnamon<br />50g of muscavado brown sugar<br />a handful of chopped walnuts<br />a handful of raisins<br /><br /><br />My breadmaker came in handy here. All the bread ingrediants simply go in and get kneaded on the dough setting (1 1/2 hours). Alternatively if you're making this by hand you want to add the liquids into a well in the dry ingrediants, stir until combined, and then knead thoroughly. Then let the dough rise for 1/2 hour and when its risen knock it back.<br /><br />Once the dough is out of the breadmaker, or has been knocked back, you make the filling. The measurements here are rough - mum used her eye and so do I. So feel free to up the sugar, lower the cinnamon, and generally play around. Finely chopped apple makes a great addition, or you can use dried figs instead of raisins. Mix the sugar, cinnamon and butter to a paste. Roll out the dough into a long, thin rectangle. Smear the butter mixture over and sprinkle with the fruit and nuts. Now roll the dough up like a swiss roll, so you have a long sausage filled with a pinwheel of cinnamon butter. Seal the join with a little water.<br /><br />At this point you can slice off rounds to create individual buns or join the ends of the sausage together to create a ring. Either way put the dough on a baking sheet, cover with a clean tea towel and leave to rise for half an hour in a warm place. Heat the oven to 200oc. If you've made a ring you then need to slice into the ring almost to the centre all the way around, so you have a sun shaped loaf, and leave it to rise for 15 more minutes. If you've made buns they can go straight in the oven. Depending on the oven, and the shape of your buns, these should take 25-35 minutes. Make a cup of tea or coffee while you wait. When the buns are golden brown take them out of the oven. Leave them to cool ever so slightly (hot butter and sugar burns!) and then tear into them.Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15089683116903121790noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2648756272651410798.post-58775093966225338332008-03-02T16:16:00.000+00:002008-12-11T07:11:18.751+00:00Birthday Cake with Raspberry Macaroons<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcDNqN821LT5FAEyEVrwLvz8nYJ5CRS3UXR57f1zOwwaW1MxQ-4m8-dZXQil-ui1pBayL5Y8s08QsD9-NA3iD7kkSdae58WYnCE1xKDmONZM-1eVlDYr9gh7nOrhyphenhyphenaGgQ9Ic59wi5f4-R3/s1600-h/DSC02474.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcDNqN821LT5FAEyEVrwLvz8nYJ5CRS3UXR57f1zOwwaW1MxQ-4m8-dZXQil-ui1pBayL5Y8s08QsD9-NA3iD7kkSdae58WYnCE1xKDmONZM-1eVlDYr9gh7nOrhyphenhyphenaGgQ9Ic59wi5f4-R3/s400/DSC02474.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172759914970950114" /></a><br />My best friends birthday was on Thursday, and as she loves Macaroons, particularly those from Laduree, I decided her cake just had to be decorated with them.<br /><br />Now I've tried at various points over the past year to bake the perfect macaroon, but success has been elusive. They are currently my baking holy grail, but thus far I haven't even managed to get a recipe that gives consistent results, and I've tried a few.<br /><br />I'll share with you the most successful recipe at the end, but first I have to have a little rant about Gordon Ramsey. Now, Ramsey is pretty successful over here in Britain, and mostly I like his recipes, but his recipe for Macaroons is just wrong. Not only did the results not look like macaroons (no feet see?) but they didn't taste like anything approximating a macaroon. While my trouble with most recipes was that I'm a perfectionist, and they didn't give me macaroons with crumbling feet and shiny tops, Ramsey's Macaroons tasted like eating cardboard. Perhaps this is the beginning of the fall of the empire...<br /><br />All this macaroon baking meant the cake supporting them had to be pretty simple and quick to bake. A victoria sponge filled with more raspberries and cream seemed a simple foil for the macaroons, and countered their sweetness nicely.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMTMTSvvi_q_LUNfwuQ9vUhEqZdPJvnj0WjUMA3sSRK0kR8GNG0RBsaioWqLNKlAVVypZEsxaAz4y24baILPvoYIXeA-PBdzRn66StyfdFflgilqwOhOFmEUysIYskkkktiaLMZjut7Arp/s1600-h/DSC02475.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMTMTSvvi_q_LUNfwuQ9vUhEqZdPJvnj0WjUMA3sSRK0kR8GNG0RBsaioWqLNKlAVVypZEsxaAz4y24baILPvoYIXeA-PBdzRn66StyfdFflgilqwOhOFmEUysIYskkkktiaLMZjut7Arp/s400/DSC02475.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172759932150819314" /></a><br /><br />So finally here is the recipe that (finally) worked for me. Worked so well, in fact, that now I'm getting excited about all the other flavours I can knock out. I based my recipe on one which appeared in The Times newspaper, written by Lucas Hollweg <http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style/food_and_drink/article2531468.ece>. In making raspberry instead of lemon, I omitted the lemon juice from the macaroons, coloured them pink, and filled them with a buttercream flavoured heavily with strained raspberry puree.<br /><br />For the Macaroon shells<br /><br />200g icing sugar<br />100g of ground almonds<br />100g of egg whites (roughly 3 egg whites - but weigh it!)<br />A few drops of pink food colouring to colour<br />20g of caster sugar<br /><br />For the raspberry filling<br /><br />200g of raspberries, pureed, and the juice strained from them<br />50g of butter<br />icing sugar to taste<br /><br />Blend the icing sugar and almonds in a food processor until fine powder. Sieve into a large mixing bowl.<br /><br />In a large, very clean bowl (copper is best) whisk the egg whites until they hold their shape. Continue whisking and start gradually adding the caster sugar. Once they are stiff and glossy (a little like shaving foam) whisk in the food colouring until combined.<br /><br />Now mix a third of the whites into the almonds and fold into a paste (it will be quite thick, but the idea is to make combining the dry ingredients easier to do without loosing all the air. Now gently fold in the rest of the egg whites. You want a well combined, smooth mixture, but not too liquid, it should still be able to form a ribbon on the surface of the mixture.<br /><br />Fill a piping bag, and pipe into 2cm rounds onto a silicone baking sheet. You can use a spoon but the shape won't be as good. If you macaroons have little nipples on the top use a wet finger to smooth them down to make sure you create a smooth top.<br /><br />Leave the macaroons to sit at room temperature for 2 hours. Little skins will form over the top of the macaroons - DON"T TOUCH!<br /><br />Now heat your oven to 130oc. When the oven has reached temperature, put a tray of macaroons at a time on the middle shelf, and bake for about 12 -15 minutes. After about 5 minutes you should see the little feet form at the bottom of the macaroons. This is when you know the recipe worked.<br /><br />Once done remove from the oven and leave to cool on trays. You may want to play around a bit with the time, depending on the temperature of your oven. Remember, the macaroons shouldn't colour, so if they start going golden brown either your oven is too hot, or they've been in too long. Similarly, they aren't meriangue - you want soft insides, neither gooey nor overly crisp.<br /><br />While they are cooling you can make the buttercream for filling them. Cream the unsalted (!) butter with the strained raspberry puree, then sweeten to taste. Once cool sandwich the macaroons together with a buttercream filling.<br /><br />Macaroon heaven.Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15089683116903121790noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2648756272651410798.post-66984399571075810942008-02-07T21:56:00.000+00:002008-02-07T21:56:47.535+00:00Chinese PotstickersThe weather has been bleak recently: endless rain, and a grey dank sky. Uninspiring in fact. Life goes on, of course, as does cooking and eating, but not much of any interest had been cooked until I made these little dumplings on sunday. The recipe was culled from a number on the internet, and then made to fit with the contents of my fridge, and the shopping I had done before I looked seriously at any recipes. The result being that these are not very traditional, but they were nevertheless very good. I think they made a good approximation of the potstickers I have eaten in restaurants, but with the flavours playing a little fresher, which given the weather outside can only be a good thing. <br /><br />With a bowl of boiled rice, and some steamed greens, what more could you need to perk you up?<br /><br />A packet of round dumpling wrappers<br />200g of lean minced pork<br />4 spring onions<br />2 tsp of soy sauce<br />1 tsp of sugar<br />3 cloves of garlic<br />2 inches of fresh ginger root<br />1 tsp of sesame oil<br />Chicken stock or water<br />mixture of sesame and vegetable oil for frying<br /><br />If frozen leave the dumpling wrappers to defrost for 3-4 hours.<br />Dice the spring onions very finely, and do the same with the ginger. Crush the garlic and add all three to the minced pork, with the soy sauce, sugar and sesame oil. Mix to combine.<br /><br />Place a large teaspoon of filling in the centre of a wrapper. Moisten the edges of the wrapper with water a fold it in half to join the two sides. It should end up like a half moon shape. <br /><br />Now keep going until you run out of wrappers or mixture<br /><br />Add a little oil to a frying pan which has a lid. When the oil is hot place the dumplings filling side down and leave to cook until that side is dark golden brown. Do not turn them over. When one side is done (the pastry will not be cooked) add about 100ml of chicken stock or water (carefully as the pan will spit) and cover. Leave the heat on and let them steam until cooked through. This will take roughly 10 minutes, but check to see the pan is not boiling dry, and if it is add a little more liquid.<br /><br />Serve with steamed greens and rice. I also like them with a dipping sauce made of finely chopped root ginger mixed with rice vinegar and half a tsp of sugar. But they are equally good just with soy sauce.Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15089683116903121790noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2648756272651410798.post-60877649734086411532007-12-10T22:41:00.000+00:002007-12-10T22:42:30.798+00:00Gingerbread and Apple MuffinsNigella Lawson has a book, Feast, which has a number of lovely recipes of which these are one. Her recipe leaves out the apple and chopped crystalised ginger, but I wanted something to make the muffins a little moister, and having tried both with and without I prefer them with the addition.<br /><br />Adapted from Gingerbread Muffins in Feast, by Nigella Lawson<br /><br />250g self raising flour<br />1 tsp of baking powder<br />2 tsp of ground ginger<br />1 tsp of ground cinnamon<br />1/4 tsp of ground cloves<br />6 tbsp of vegetable oil<br />4 tbsp of black treacle<br />4 tbsp of golden syrup<br />75g of muscavado sugar<br />25g of caster sugar<br />150ml of milk<br />1/4 tsp of balsamic vinegar<br />1 egg<br />2 balls of crystalised ginger in syrup, very finely chopped<br />1/2 a cooking apple, very finely chopped<br /><br />Heat the oven to 200oc<br />Sift the dry ingrediants together. Beat the egg in a separate bowl with the sugar until all the lumps are dissolved. Add the milk, oil, vinegar, treacle and golden syrup and mix to combine. Fold in the dry ingredients, being careful not to overwork the mixture; some small lumps may remain. Fold in the ginger and apple, then spoon into muffin cakes and bake in the oven for 15-20 minutes, or until they are risen, and slightly firm on top.<br /><br />These keep well for a few days in an airtight container.Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15089683116903121790noreply@blogger.com0