Sunday 29 April 2012
Upside-down cake
So, in order to get through the rhubarb in the garden without repeating myself too often, I spent some time today looking at recipes and decided to attempt my own variant of a rhubarb and custard cake.
I started off by roasting about 800g of rhubarb, chopped in 2cm lengths and sprinkled with 150g of sugar, in a shallow tin at 180degC for 30 minutes, which reduces the water content greatly and ended up with about 600g of cooked rhubarb in deep pink syrup. I drained this, reserving the syrup.
Next, for the cake, I lined a 23cm springform tin with baking parchment, made some custard (11g custard powder, 13g sugar, 160ml milk) then creamed 250g margarine with 250g sugar and 5ml vanilla extract and added 4 eggs, one at a time, before adding 250g SR flour mixed with 1/2 teaspoon baking powder and about half the custard, plus some of the syrup from the rhubarb.
Half of the mixture went into the tin, and after spreading it out I topped it with half of the rhubarb, then put the rest of the cake mixture on top of that, in rough spoonfuls, then the rest of the rhubarb on top of that. Then I spooned blobs of the custard on the top, and it was ready for the oven.
Then, disaster.
While I was lifting it into the oven, the base of the springform tin sprung out. The cake mix ended up all over the oven door. I grabbed 3 2lb loaf tins and liners (thank you, Lakeland) and hastily scraped the mix into them, so all my careful layering went completely to pot. After washing the oven door, I put the tins in with crossed fingers and baked them for about 50 mins at 180degC.
We had one for dinner, served with the leftover rhubarb syrup, and although it did not look pretty it tasted good.
Sunday 22 April 2012
Salad 'n' soup
What is the correct response when your husband proudly presents you with a strangely misshapen beetroot that he has discovered in the garden? One of the batch that he grew last year, which has somehow escaped being harvested with all the others?
Why, make a salad with it, of course.
So, I peeled it, then out came my trusty vegetable shredder (which looks rather like a mutant potato peeler; something like this one, and which confuses my husband dreadfully - oh, how I laughed when I heard he had been trying to peel potatoes with it once) and shredded it into a bowl along with two carrots and a finely sliced onion. The juice of a lemon, about a tablespoonful of olive oil and a sprinkling of salt and pepper went in next, then the whole lot had a good toss and was good to go.
Still in a salad-y mood, as I'd picked up a couple of cheap cucumbers and some tomatoes at the supermarket yesterday, I soaked 150g of bulgur wheat in 300ml boiling water for about 20 mins, then chopped up half a cucumber and quartered 8 cherry tomatoes to make some tabbouleh. A good squeeze of garlic puree, the juice of a lemon, another tablespoonful of olive oil, salt, pepper and a generous handful of flat-leaf parsley from the garden (with the earwigs and ladybirds carefully removed before bringing it indoors) roughly chopped, made the dressing, into which I folded the cucumber and the tomatoes and then the still-warm bulgur wheat.
And the soup: broccoli today.
One onion, chopped and fried gently in 10g butter, with 2 potatoes, diced, then added to the pan with the onion, plus the broccoli stalks from a medium head of broccoli, chopped. About a pint of boiling water, salt and pepper, then after it had simmered for about 10 mins, the rest of the broccoli, and about 8 further minutes simmering. Then a quick whizz in the pan with a hand blender, about 1/2 a pint of milk, and it was ready to serve.
All in all, not a bad lunch!
Why, make a salad with it, of course.
Still in a salad-y mood, as I'd picked up a couple of cheap cucumbers and some tomatoes at the supermarket yesterday, I soaked 150g of bulgur wheat in 300ml boiling water for about 20 mins, then chopped up half a cucumber and quartered 8 cherry tomatoes to make some tabbouleh. A good squeeze of garlic puree, the juice of a lemon, another tablespoonful of olive oil, salt, pepper and a generous handful of flat-leaf parsley from the garden (with the earwigs and ladybirds carefully removed before bringing it indoors) roughly chopped, made the dressing, into which I folded the cucumber and the tomatoes and then the still-warm bulgur wheat.
And the soup: broccoli today.
One onion, chopped and fried gently in 10g butter, with 2 potatoes, diced, then added to the pan with the onion, plus the broccoli stalks from a medium head of broccoli, chopped. About a pint of boiling water, salt and pepper, then after it had simmered for about 10 mins, the rest of the broccoli, and about 8 further minutes simmering. Then a quick whizz in the pan with a hand blender, about 1/2 a pint of milk, and it was ready to serve.
All in all, not a bad lunch!
Friday 20 April 2012
Rhubarb, rhubarb...
The weather has been a bit dreary for the last couple of weeks, but the rhubarb in the garden has enjoyed the recent rainfall. So much so, in fact, that I think we will mostly be eating rhubarb for the foreseeable future.
I have recently acquired a new crumble dish - the one that I used for my last crumble foray ended up getting used to hold a flower arrangement of anemones for my mum's 75th birthday (happy birthday, Mum! It was a GREAT party!) which she took home with her after the party, and so that my poor chaps at home would not be unduly deprived of crumble, I now have her oval pyrex dish, which is significantly bigger than the one that had the anemones in.
Tonight I gave the larger crumble dish its first outing, with the first crop of rhubarb from the garden.
900g of freshly picked rhubarb, washed and cut into 2.5cm chunks, covered the bottom of it quite nicely. 85g of sugar was sprinkled over that, and that all sat in the dish thinking about things quietly while I whizzed up 300g of plain flour and 120g butter in the food processor, then added 80g rolled oats and 100g sugar and gave it another quick whizz.
Spreading this evenly over the lumpy rhubarb in the dish was a bit challenging - I could have done with more crumble mix, really. Particularly as there is the regular "crumble grumble" in which it is strongly suggested to me that the main point of a crumble is the crumble topping and certain young gentlemen in the house would definitely prefer their crumble with not so much fruit and a lot more topping. As there were some areas where the crumble topping was a bit on the thin side, due to the underlying rhubarb substrate being a little uneven, I popped this in the oven (180degC) for about 50 mins, until the rhubarb juices were bubbling up pinkly through the (all too sparse) crumble topping, bracing myself for the inevitable whingeing when it was served. However, older son and husband both ate it with apparent relish (and a large helping of custard) and younger son will be having his when he gets back from helping at Scouts this evening.
Yes, I'm such a bad mother that I don't even feed my poor son properly before he goes out in the evening these days. But as I didn't get back from work until 6 today, having a crumble that could be eaten by 7 was never really a possibility, and he has it to look forward to when he comes home.
I have recently acquired a new crumble dish - the one that I used for my last crumble foray ended up getting used to hold a flower arrangement of anemones for my mum's 75th birthday (happy birthday, Mum! It was a GREAT party!) which she took home with her after the party, and so that my poor chaps at home would not be unduly deprived of crumble, I now have her oval pyrex dish, which is significantly bigger than the one that had the anemones in.
Tonight I gave the larger crumble dish its first outing, with the first crop of rhubarb from the garden.
900g of freshly picked rhubarb, washed and cut into 2.5cm chunks, covered the bottom of it quite nicely. 85g of sugar was sprinkled over that, and that all sat in the dish thinking about things quietly while I whizzed up 300g of plain flour and 120g butter in the food processor, then added 80g rolled oats and 100g sugar and gave it another quick whizz.
Spreading this evenly over the lumpy rhubarb in the dish was a bit challenging - I could have done with more crumble mix, really. Particularly as there is the regular "crumble grumble" in which it is strongly suggested to me that the main point of a crumble is the crumble topping and certain young gentlemen in the house would definitely prefer their crumble with not so much fruit and a lot more topping. As there were some areas where the crumble topping was a bit on the thin side, due to the underlying rhubarb substrate being a little uneven, I popped this in the oven (180degC) for about 50 mins, until the rhubarb juices were bubbling up pinkly through the (all too sparse) crumble topping, bracing myself for the inevitable whingeing when it was served. However, older son and husband both ate it with apparent relish (and a large helping of custard) and younger son will be having his when he gets back from helping at Scouts this evening.
Yes, I'm such a bad mother that I don't even feed my poor son properly before he goes out in the evening these days. But as I didn't get back from work until 6 today, having a crumble that could be eaten by 7 was never really a possibility, and he has it to look forward to when he comes home.
Sunday 15 April 2012
Long and slow...
...that's the best way to cook a casserole.
Today I made a pork and cider casserole which turned out pretty well, despite horrifying both my mother and my husband by my extravagance for using 2 cans of cider in it. But it's enough for 2 meals, and tasted good. Even fussy younger son liked it.
Into my large cauldron went:
1kg diced casserole pork (picked up reduced at the supermarket yesterday)
5 medium-sized onions, peeled and sliced
about 1/3 of a head of celery, sliced finely
8 largish carrots, peeled and cut into thirds
2 cans of Strongbow cider
salt
pepper
the stalks from a good handful of flat-leaf parsley from the garden
about 1tbsp (home grown!) dried sage
400g can chopped tomatoes
250g mushrooms, quartered
After letting it sit for a couple of hours, I added one Granny Smith apple, cored and diced, turned the heat on and brought it to a gentle boil, then turned the heat right down and let it burble very gently for about 3 hours.
I thickened it with a couple of dessertspoons of cornflour, mixed with a crumbled vegetable Oxo cube and a bit more salt and pepper, plus about 150 ml water, then let it burble some more while I cooked rice and green beans to go with it.
Enough for 3 portions today and will comfortably do 4 more portions later in the week, so that's one day I don't have to think about food after work!
Also planned for this week: the legendary Minced Trolley Meat Loaf.
Today I made a pork and cider casserole which turned out pretty well, despite horrifying both my mother and my husband by my extravagance for using 2 cans of cider in it. But it's enough for 2 meals, and tasted good. Even fussy younger son liked it.
Into my large cauldron went:
1kg diced casserole pork (picked up reduced at the supermarket yesterday)
5 medium-sized onions, peeled and sliced
about 1/3 of a head of celery, sliced finely
8 largish carrots, peeled and cut into thirds
2 cans of Strongbow cider
salt
pepper
the stalks from a good handful of flat-leaf parsley from the garden
about 1tbsp (home grown!) dried sage
400g can chopped tomatoes
250g mushrooms, quartered
After letting it sit for a couple of hours, I added one Granny Smith apple, cored and diced, turned the heat on and brought it to a gentle boil, then turned the heat right down and let it burble very gently for about 3 hours.
I thickened it with a couple of dessertspoons of cornflour, mixed with a crumbled vegetable Oxo cube and a bit more salt and pepper, plus about 150 ml water, then let it burble some more while I cooked rice and green beans to go with it.
Enough for 3 portions today and will comfortably do 4 more portions later in the week, so that's one day I don't have to think about food after work!
Also planned for this week: the legendary Minced Trolley Meat Loaf.
Monday 2 April 2012
Cheesy mashed potato and leeks
The protein for tonight's dinner was battered haddock fillets to cook in the oven. I looked at them in the box, decided they were a bit small for my hungry tribe, and thought I had better rustle up something pretty substantial as an accompaniment. Even better - I had only one pan to wash up afterwards.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I proudly present - cheesy mashed potato and leeks.
Cut 800g of (old) potatoes into even sized chunks and place in a pan of cold salted water. You can peel them if you like, but I seldom do. Chop 500g leeks into 2.5cm long pieces and add those to the pan. Turn the heat on, and bring to the boil.
Once the potatoes are tender, drain the pan, and add 20g butter, a heaped dessertspoon of low fat creme fraiche, about 120ml milk, 80g mature cheddar (grated) and 1 tbsp chopped chives.
Mash it all together roughly - it will be a fairly sloppy texture - and serve. Delicious, and goes very well with the haddock.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I proudly present - cheesy mashed potato and leeks.
Cut 800g of (old) potatoes into even sized chunks and place in a pan of cold salted water. You can peel them if you like, but I seldom do. Chop 500g leeks into 2.5cm long pieces and add those to the pan. Turn the heat on, and bring to the boil.
Once the potatoes are tender, drain the pan, and add 20g butter, a heaped dessertspoon of low fat creme fraiche, about 120ml milk, 80g mature cheddar (grated) and 1 tbsp chopped chives.
Mash it all together roughly - it will be a fairly sloppy texture - and serve. Delicious, and goes very well with the haddock.
Pea and ham soup
My younger son is exceedingly partial to home made pea and ham soup. Even before he could pronounce the word "soup" properly, and called it "doup". This particular recipe was "Yummy doup". My grandad loved this soup too - I used to take him a frozen container or two up when I visited him. I've been making this soup for (counts on fingers) ooh, probably about 20 years now. Ever since I received an enormous stockpot as a wedding present. This has seen some heavy use. Over the years I've experimented with different things in it - potato - or not? Green split peas - or yellow ones? Chop the veg before putting them in, or bung 'em in whole and liquidise them at the end? This is the version that I generally make (and I get complaints now if I vary from it). It makes rather a lot - enough for 4 hungry people for 3 days - so I generally freeze 2/3 of it. It's great to know you have a pot of it in the freezer for emergencies.
Take a smoked gammon hock or ham bone, put it in the stock pot, cover with cold water, and bring to the boil. Skim off any scummy bits, then reduce the heat and simmer for a couple of hours until it's tender (the meat, obviously - you won't get the bones tender no matter how long you cook them).
Take the hock out and sit it on a plate, then skim the fat off the cooking water, which has now turned into wonderful smoky gammony stock (I put it through my skimmer jug, which separates the fat from the watery bits). Put the cooking water back in the pan, along with 500g of yellow split peas, 3 good-sized sticks of celery, 500g peeled and halved onions, 500g carrots. Bring to the boil again and simmer for at least an hour.
Meanwhile, once the hock has cooled down a bit, remove the skin, the blubber layer, the bones and the gristly bits, and you should be left with about 300-500g cooked ham. Chop this into cubes and put it on one side - NOT in the soup yet.
Once the peas are soft and the vegetables are tender, liquidise the veg. I use a slotted spoon to put them into the 1 litre beaker that came with my hand blender, and whizz them in that. It doesn't matter if you get some split peas liquidised too - just make sure that all the big lumps of veg are gone.
Return the liquidised veg to the pan, and add the cubed ham. Put in a good grinding of black pepper, and taste to see if it needs any salt. Simmer gently for another 5 mins or so, then serve. Makes lots!
If you're feeling keen, you can dice half the veg before putting them in to cook, then just fish out the un-diced big lumps - this gives a soup with a chunkier texture. But it takes a fair while, and the onions make me cry, so I tend to just peel them and put them in. I used to add a couple of diced potatoes as well, but I think I prefer it without. And as for using green split peas - well, if I didn't put so many carrots in, that would be fine, but it turns out a rather unappetising khaki if you have green peas and orange carrots. So we have a bright orangy-yellow pea and ham soup.
Take a smoked gammon hock or ham bone, put it in the stock pot, cover with cold water, and bring to the boil. Skim off any scummy bits, then reduce the heat and simmer for a couple of hours until it's tender (the meat, obviously - you won't get the bones tender no matter how long you cook them).
Take the hock out and sit it on a plate, then skim the fat off the cooking water, which has now turned into wonderful smoky gammony stock (I put it through my skimmer jug, which separates the fat from the watery bits). Put the cooking water back in the pan, along with 500g of yellow split peas, 3 good-sized sticks of celery, 500g peeled and halved onions, 500g carrots. Bring to the boil again and simmer for at least an hour.
Meanwhile, once the hock has cooled down a bit, remove the skin, the blubber layer, the bones and the gristly bits, and you should be left with about 300-500g cooked ham. Chop this into cubes and put it on one side - NOT in the soup yet.
Once the peas are soft and the vegetables are tender, liquidise the veg. I use a slotted spoon to put them into the 1 litre beaker that came with my hand blender, and whizz them in that. It doesn't matter if you get some split peas liquidised too - just make sure that all the big lumps of veg are gone.
Return the liquidised veg to the pan, and add the cubed ham. Put in a good grinding of black pepper, and taste to see if it needs any salt. Simmer gently for another 5 mins or so, then serve. Makes lots!
If you're feeling keen, you can dice half the veg before putting them in to cook, then just fish out the un-diced big lumps - this gives a soup with a chunkier texture. But it takes a fair while, and the onions make me cry, so I tend to just peel them and put them in. I used to add a couple of diced potatoes as well, but I think I prefer it without. And as for using green split peas - well, if I didn't put so many carrots in, that would be fine, but it turns out a rather unappetising khaki if you have green peas and orange carrots. So we have a bright orangy-yellow pea and ham soup.
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