The Food Wot I Ate - a 2021 retrospective

2021 was the year that started with a lockdown and ended with not-a-lockdown-but-most-of-us-choosing-to-stay-indoors-anyway. It did a good impression, in parts, of being normal but it really wasn't. It was the year where many of us queued up like dutiful citizens to get not one, not two but three jabs in the hope it would grant us freedom but then realised that freedom was slightly scary. A funny old time.

In the latter half of the year, as reflected in my occasional blog posts, D and I tried to get back into the swing of eating out and we were rewarded with some absolutely fabulous meals. Whether it was because after twelve months of home cooking and takeaways the novelty of restaurant food triumphed over all critical faculties, or that the restaurants we visited were just that good it is impossible to be entirely sure, but we were blessed with some truly superlative dishes. And I haven't even told you about our trip to Roots yet at the back end of the year, where Tommy Banks's team is doing fantastic things on the banks of the River Ouse.

It's been tough to narrow it down, but there are definitely a few dishes that deserve an extra special mention:

Starter / Snack of the year:

It faced stiff competition, but the "prawn toast" at Lake Road Kitchen wins the day. A heady combination of fresh, bouncy prawn, garlic butter and a crispy brioche coating. The whole table could probably have just sat and eaten a bucket of these and been perfectly content. Nothing outlandish going on with the flavours and ingredients, but flawless execution shows that it isn't always necessary to push boundaries - garlicky, buttery seafoody goodness will always be a pleasure to eat.

Bread of the year:

Not just of the year but probably ever - the brioche at Raby Hunt has to be tasted to be believed. It really says something that in a magical multi course tasting extravaganza, the bread course is still the memory that really lingers. Special mention, though, to Roots where the warm sourdough was served with what they described as "cheese custard" and I will describe to you as "grown-up Dairylea". Yum.

Meat / fish of the year:

Often, the meat and fish courses on a menu are slightly less exciting than the beginning and end of the meal - don't you think? The snacks and starters and desserts are where much of the innovation and fireworks tend to take place. I say that - but then, am reminded with a smile of the amazing lobster ravioli at Raby Hunt, or the doughnut stuffed with venison and damson jam at Roots. Still, the stand out for me is, I think, the amazing lamb shoulder at Le Cochon Aveugle. A buttery potato pancake, topped with shredded lamb, yoghurt and black garlic. I might be a little biased, since lamb is my absolute favourite meat to eat, but this was a really high quality piece of cooking.

Cheese course of the year:

D and I absolutely love it when restaurants do something a little different for the cheese course. I mean, we love it when we're presented with a big cheese trolley as well (who isn't?) but it's exciting to see something else - and the soufflé at Raby Hunt is the perfect case in point. The vin jaune sauce and walnuts added different flavour notes and textures but the star of the show was the fluffy, cheesy cloud trembling in the middle - at once both incredibly light and fearsomely rich. Bliss.

Dessert of the year:

Again, in the face of stiff competition, Lake Road Kitchen triumphs here for me. I still think about that Savarin-Brillat cheesecake on a fairly regular basis. Simple - a plain cheesecake and a couple of fruity twiddles - but perfect. A special mention, though, to Inver's rice pudding which...well, suggested to me that maybe rice pudding isn't the worst thing in the world after all but that in the right hands can be a lovely, lovely thing. Well played, Inver.

Home cooked dish of the year:

Like all good (obsessive) foodies, we keep records of what we cook and eat and scrolling back through 2021 I can see lots of comfort food type dishes on there which is probably indicative of our state of minds whether we realised it or not. We don't very often cook the same dish regularly, which suggests that Diana Henry's teriyaki salmon was a real favourite (made twice within the space of a month). I also recall absolutely swooning over the smoked haddock hash that we made at the start of the year and then never got around to repeating - definitely one to have again soon. However, I think the most representative dish of the year must be the humble meringue. Since lockdown #1 D has been making all the household mayonnaise from scratch and, as a result, I have been regularly making meringues to use up the surplus egg whites. We eat them with Chantilly cream and whatever fruit we happen to have to hand, and they have been one of the great simple pleasures of the year. Not one that I appear to have taken a photo of though - so please accept a picture of the cat instead, enjoying her dish of this and every year, chopped fresh prawns. 

Foodie abroad: a return to Lake Road Kitchen

I have a quote on the tip of my tongue about never going back but I’ve Googled it and apparently Never Go Back is the name of a Jack Reacher film. I don’t think I’ve seen it and it certainly doesn’t sound like the kind of thing I’d usually quote. Anyway. I’ve been musing a bit about nostalgia versus novelty recently. I often wonder if I’m too much governed by the former (familiarity, safety) versus the latter (the new, the unknown) and whether that is a good or bad thing. It’s especially pertinent at the moment; like many of us, I find myself still living in a state of heightened anxiety after the events of the past year and my instinct is to grope for comfort blankets when perhaps what I need is a hefty kick up the arse.

A long winded (and navel gazing) way of saying we found ourselves in the Lakes for a few days as my parents invited us to share their holiday apartment and , to say thank you, we wanted to take them out for dinner. Should we revisit an old favourite or go somewhere new? We opted to return to Lake Road Kitchen, a restaurant we visited and loved back in (shockingly) 2017. We felt fairly certain that we would have a good meal - the lamb that we had five years ago remains, probably, the best I have ever eaten - but there was a slight sense of trepidation that it wouldn’t quite live up to our memories.

Reader, if we loved it in 2017 we were blown away by it in 2021 and we are already plotting when we can return (it will not be another five years). What an absolute gem of a place. We had a twelve course tasting menu and not a dud note - although the rest of the party felt a beef and onion broth was not quite up to the standard of the rest (I rather enjoyed it). While the focus remains on local Cumbrian produce, I definitely felt that the chef’s sphere of influences had widened which made for some seriously impressive, and sometimes surprising, taste combinations. Alongside an absolutely flawless handling of ingredients, there was so much to love that I don’t know what to highlight.

I could wax lyrical about pretty much every course and, interestingly, I think that all four of us had a different favourite. For me, ever a sweet tooth, I adored the dessert end of the menu and am tempted to say that a Brillat-Savarin baked cheesecake with raspberry and liquorice jam and raspberry sorbet was the pinnacle. The cheesecake was so light in texture, not claggy as baked cheesecakes have a tendency to be, and it was almost savoury to taste which worked incredibly well with the sour sweet fruit. Even though I was reaching capacity by the time it was served, the moment it was finished I wanted to eat it again. 

But if the menu ended with a bang, then it has to be said it started on one too with a number of “snack” courses including the crunchiest fried chicken in the history of the world and D’s personal favourite - a deep fried prawn toast with king prawn, prawn mousse and garlic butter. This occupied the space somewhere between a prawn toast and a Kiev, which might sound odd but totally worked. D spent most of the remainder of the evening trying (unsuccessfully) to persuade the waitress to bring him another one.

Also, it would be remiss of me not to mention the main course pork - slow cooked then finished on the barbecue and served with the most amazing wild garlic and caper sauce. Plates may have been licked and bones were certainly gnawed by the gentleman in the party. This is a kitchen that knows how to handle meat.

When you pick an old favourite over something new, there is always a risk of missing out but, to be honest, I can’t envisage any scenario where we missed out here. I cannot praise Lake Road Kitchen enough, and my sentiments were echoed by the whole party. We will be back there soon and if ever you, gentle Reader, should find yourself in the vicinity of Ambleside then I urge you to try and nab a table. 

Lake Road Kitchen

Lake Road

Ambleside 

Cumbria 

LA22 0AD

Made in Oldstead

We can't eat out at the moment but fortunately some restaurants are making it possible to eat out at home.  That sentence makes NO SENSE.  But you know what I mean - some restaurants have moved into the takeaway business.  Or perhaps, more accurately, the posh ready meal business.  I, for one, am glad and wish that I was rich enough to buy from all of them all of the time.  I want these places to survive and be around when we emerge, blinking, into the sunshine of non-lockdown.  Although knowing Britain, the end of lockdown will coincide with a period of monsoons.  Our weather systems tend to have a finely tuned sense of irony.

Anyway, back to the point.  This weekend we donated £70 of your English pounds to the "Save the Local Restaurant" fund that is The Black Swan at Oldstead's food box scheme.  Another cracker of a sentence there. 

We love The Black Swan.  Well, I say that.  We've been twice.  We loved it on the second occasion and liked it very much on the first.  The food that they are making for the food boxes is not the equivalent of the food that you would get in the restaurant.  Of course it's not.  It needs to be packed and transported and reheated.  It needs to be plated up at home.  This all calls for dishes that are robust and simple with minimal garnishes.  Not necessarily adjectives that you associate with Michelin starred chefs. 

Having said that, if your expectations are set at the correct level, this is a very enjoyable experience indeed, and it was nice to have a weekend "off" from cooking.  I've been cooking a lot during this period; the kitchen has become even more a place of solace and escape than usual, but it is still nice to be cooked for.  And when it is Tommy Banks and team who are doing the cooking, it is especially nice.

As I said, the cost of the box was £70 but for that you get two lots of two three-course meals.  We decided to have the starters for lunch and then the main event and puddings in the evening which meant we effectively got four meals out of it.  That is pretty decent value to my way of thinking.

On Saturday, there was a tartiflette made with Ogleshield - a fabulous British cheese that rose to the occasion admirably.  There was bacon and caramelised onions and creaminess.  The dish required a smidge more time in the oven than specified in the instructions (the potatoes were sliced quite thickly and weren't quite as yielding after 20 minutes as we might have wished).  And we roasted the accompanying asparagus rather than boiling and dressing in butter as were directed to do.  Yeah, rebels.

This was followed by a beetroot treacle tart served with a schnapps-laced marscapone.  The tart looked beautiful (I am quite the fan of pink food) although the beetroot didn't seem to add much to the flavour profile that I could discern.  The marscapone was excellent.

As for Sunday's meal: I would say it was pretty much the definition of British comfort food.  There was ox cheek pie with the most gorgeous beef dripping crust.  On the side, a portion of pickled manglewurzel which is apparently, is a type of beet commonly eaten by livestock.  Lucky livestock, say I - this was lovely.  Reminiscent of sauerkraut.  We may, may have snuck some mashed potato onto the plate as well because I am from the East End of London and it is practically treason to not serve pie with mash. Also, we are greedy.  But I've upped the exposure on the picture so that you can barely see it.

The theme of comfort food continued with the dessert of elderflower cake with duck egg custard.  Cake and custard is pure school dinners as far as I am concerned.  Actually, (and here is a sad tale) I never had school dinners when I was at primary school.  My cruel mother insisted on making me a packed lunch every day.  So while I know of the concept of school dinner cake-and-custard I have never experienced it firsthand.  I suspect TBS's version was considerably superior to St Mary's RC Primary School.

An indulgent weekend then but worth it.  For anyone reading who lives in the Oldstead, York, Harrogate or North Leeds area and wants a treat then I would recommend this most highly.  For everyone else, I hope that the restaurants round you are similarly rising to the challenges faced by the industry.  I don't think it is possible to quantify how much joy these pubs and restaurants bring to our lives and we will miss them if they go. 

Recipe corner: Ecclefechan tart

I know I still need to put the recipe for Christmas pudding cheesecake up but that is at home and I am not. I am currently in Edinburgh, waiting for a train back to Leeds and so it seems fitting to be talking about Scottish food.  If you have never been to Scotland (or, weirdly, Waitrose which sometimes sells little ones at Christmas as some sort of mince pie alternative) then you will probably never have come across Ecclefechan tart and that is a shame because it is lovely. I think it is nicer than its more widely known distant cousin, the Yorkshire curd tart.

I made D go to Ecclefechan once. Reader, there did not appear to be anything there. We spent the evening playing cards in the hotel bar. But we did have Ecclefechan tart. And when I told the proprietor of the Ecclefechan House Hotel that I was basically there because I was a tart groupie, she was kind enough to let me copy the recipe which had been in her possession for donkey’s years.

So, some notes. The first: I have not provided a recipe for sweet shortcrust pastry here, feel free to use your own. Or, you know, Google it. The recipe does not call for blind baking so we did not and I have not mentioned it below. It was fine. But if you are a pastry purist and you want your bottom super crisp, then you might need to improvise a little here.

The second: I was slightly short on dried fruit so I made up the weight with some mincemeat that I had hanging around. Which isn’t quite in the spirit as it will have introduced a slight element of booze and spice which shouldn’t really be there. But it still tasted lovely so it’s worth considering if you have any leftover from Christmas that needs a good home.

The third: the vinegar will smell very pronounced when you first add it, but will cook out to a mellow, slightly sour back note in the finished dish, so do not be tempted to skip.

Ingredients

1 quantity of sweet shortcrust pastry, sufficient to line a standard tart tin (ours is 9 inch)

100g butter
2 eggs
150g soft brown sugar
1 tbsp vinegar
200g mixed dried fruit (sultanas, raisins, currants)
50g chopped walnuts

Cream, to serve

Serves 8 

Roll out your pastry, line your tart tin and place in the fridge to chill until required. Preheat oven to around 160 (fan).

Place the butter in a saucepan and melt over a gentle heat.

Meanwhile, whisk the eggs and then tip in the sugar and whisk again to combine.

When the butter is melted, remove the pan from the heat and set aside for a couple of minutes to allow it to cool very slightly.

Stir the melted butter, the fruit and the vinegar through the eggs and sugar mixture.

Pour the whole lot into the tart tin and transfer to the oven to bake for around 30 mins. I covered mine with foil halfway through to stop the top from catching (but our oven is a beast).

Allow the tart to cool slightly before serving - it is best warm, not hot. Lovely with a good splash of cream.

Edited - 25 January 2021

We have been marking Burn's Night with a feast of Scottish food and revisited this recipe - but with individual tarts rather than a large one. To make two individual sized (5" diameter) tarts I used the following amounts:

35g butter

35g beaten egg

50g soft brown sugar

1 tsp vinegar

65g mixed dried fruit

15g chopped walnuts

Also - this sweet pastry recipe worked a treat (and I'm very nervous about pastry handling). I halved the recipe and there was enough for two individual tarts plus offcuts for a few mini mince pies. A sterling success.

Recipe corner: Sticky Toffee Parkin

A disadvantage of being born in the period between Christmas and the New Year is that a lot of nice restaurants are shut. I mean, it’s not a disadvantage for the people who work in them who are, I’m sure, very pleased to be able to spend time with their loved ones. But if you’re the kind of person who likes to push down the misery of growing older with copious quantities of delicious food and wine, then it can be a problem. So often, I ask poor old D to cook for me. Next year (which ends in a 9 which means it is not a big birthday but it is very nearly a big birthday and thus I am likely to be quite depressed) I’m just going to get takeaway pizza and a Colin the Caterpillar cake, I promise. But this year he delivered quite the triumph with his “Chicken Caesar Salad 2018”, pan fried seabass with lobster butter and, best of all, sticky toffee parkin.

This latter dessert is a reminder of all that is good and true in the world, even in these days of Brexit and Trump. It has all the spice of the traditional Yorkshire Parkin (my recipe for that is here) but slightly lighter of texture and, of course, DRENCHED in golden toffee sauce. You could have a bit of cream or ice cream alongside but, to be honest, you don’t need to do so. It is perfect as it is.

It should be noted that my husband cooks very big puddings indeed. The quantities that he provides as serving 3 could easily be stretched to 6 (in my humble opinion) if being made for people with normal appetites who are coming to the end of a substantial meal. Obviously, because it was my birthday I just engaged my Pudding Stomach and ate an entire one as described. But on your birthday it is OK to be greedy.

Right. Per the man himself:

Ingredients

75g self raising flour
40g oatflakes
5g ground ginger
1g ground nutmeg
1g mixed spice
3g baking powder
85g soft dark brown sugar


1 medium egg
28g butter

5g bicarbonate of soda
85g chopped dates
143g boiling water

Serves 3-6 depending on levels of greed

Oven at 180C.

Butter 3 metal rings - diameter 7cm and height 6cm, wrap tin foil round bottom quite tightly, the mixture is quite wet and will seep out otherwise. Butter the bottom of this too.

Put all the dry ingredients in your Kitchen Aid, using a K-whisk attachment, whisk ingredients until incorporated.

Add egg, and whisk until incorporated.

Add butter, in centimetre cubes and whisk until incorporated.

Add the boiling water to the dates. Add the bicarb. Mash the date mixture.

Add to the other ingredients and whisk until incorporated.

Pour into the rings, until about 1cm below the top.

Put in oven for about 25 minutes. Don't worry if the tops catch slightly as you will be cutting the tops off so they are flat.

Once they are done i.e. you can skewer them cleanly, leave to cool.

Make the sauce.

Ingredients

60g salted butter.
60g soft dark brown sugar.
50g double cream.

Put ingredients in a pan and bring to a boil. Turn off heat. Stir. Done.

Remove tops off the puddings (the puddings will rise about a centimetre or more above the height of the rings, which will make it easy to cut the tops off.)

Remove them from rings, using a knife round the sides.

NB: You could, at this point, divide each cylinder into two portions by cutting horizontally through the middle.

Put in a bowl.

Pour over the caramel sauce.

Eat.

Rusty Shears, Whitby (my new happy place)

We took ourselves off to Whitby for a couple of days this last weekend. We booked it months ago to mark the date on which we first met (fourteen!!! years ago) but we never need very much excuse to travel across. It's the perfect place to relax, take deep breaths of chip-scented sea air and be a wee bit indulgent.

And if it is indulgence that you are after, alongside a side of whimsy and a good, stiff gin then look no further than Rusty Shears - a tea shop come House of Gin. Was there ever a more appealing combination?

It doesn't open in the evening, but the sign reassures customers that gin is served from 11am, and there is nothing guaranteed to make one feel more hedonistic than ordering gin and tonic with lunch (we waited till one o clock because spirits before noon does feel wrong). There is an absolutely massive selection - we managed to try five different ones across the course of two visits and still had barely scratched the menu's surface. Amongst them - a local gin brewed in someone's garage just up the road and a Scottish gin with a mere two botanicals (juniper and rosehip should you be interested). It was total ginvana.

But obviously sustenance is needed alongside and the menu of sandwiches, light bites and the most delicious homemade cake hit the spot perfectly. I jumped at the chance to order a Reuben on rye, a great personal favourite, and D opted for wild mushrooms on toast. Then we committed the grave error of treating ourselves to a piece of cake apiece. I say error; the cake was fantastic, sublime. My Guinness cake with a thick layer of lighter-than-air-and-sweeter-than-a-kitten's-purr frosting was perfect. D's maple pecan cheesecake was a delight. But all that sugar occasioned, unsurprisingly, quite the slump and we ended up staggering back to our room for a much needed post-cake nap. Still, that's what holidays are for, no?

There was nothing that I did not like about this place from the eccentrically nostalgic decor (Miss Marple after she'd hit the gin selection) to the enthusiastic and charming staff. Oh, actually. I'm sad about the fact that it isn't open in the evenings - we could absolutely have whiled away an entire evening and an awful lot of money there - and that it is in Whitby rather than Leeds. But perhaps, given how much I both gin and cake, it is all for the best.

Lake Road Kitchen, Ambleside

Great cooking is, in my opinion, an art form – possibly unique in the fact that to be truly great it has to work across nearly all of our senses at any one time. Thus it is that when you are trying to assess an excellent meal, you have a certain amount of responsibility to try and separate the subjective from the objective. Except that when it comes to Lake Road Kitchen, I’m having real trouble because I loved it so much. It was one of those occasions where I felt that the chef and I obviously shared a sensibility with regards to food which meant that, with the exception of one dish which happened to be based around an ingredient that I don’t much like (sweetcorn), I adored everything – and even the exception I appreciated and admired.

The owner and head chef James Cross, as appears to be de rigueur these days, did a stint at Noma and the influence is exceedingly apparent: the ingredients are as local as possible with many coming from the restaurant’s own kitchen garden, others foraged from the local countryside (which, given that the place is in the heart of the Lake District is both beautiful and bountiful). The restaurant’s interior has a stripped back, Scandi feel – clean lines, pale colours, plenty of wood. But although the dishes often appeared to be similarly simple and even ascetic in their presentation, this was entirely deceptive and most ate as well as any food you will find in this country at the moment.

Hard to pick highlights, but I would walk back to Ambleside to eat the slow cooked octopus again. I have never had octopus like it – the slow cooking had enhanced the firm, meaty quality of the flesh before it was brought to life by a robust searing on the outside to give it texture and smoke. The fermented wild garlic puree accompaniment had us both swiping our finger around the plates to catch every drop.

I need to mention the lamb as well because I have genuinely never, ever had lamb like it. It was stunning. Herdwick, a local breed had been dry aged for 50 days (a technique more commonly applied to beef) to give a depth of flavour that I have simply never encountered before, not to mention a texture as silky as butter. The couple at the table next to us sent it back for being undercooked and, yes, the rack turned up at the table far rarer than is, perhaps, commonly seen but one mouthful would have confirmed to anyone that not a further second of cooking was required. It was utterly magical.

I’m often a bit anti modern puddings, being firmly of the opinion that the sticky toffee has yet to be bettered. But even here I was to be confounded – the buttermilk pannacotta with blackberries and foraged herbs was a perfect marriage of dreamily soft, barely set cream and the deep, darkly sour punch of fruit with sorrel, lemon verbena and chervil adding a completely new note that spoke of the autumn and the damp, delicate scent of the hedgerows. This almost has me convinced that pannacotta is a dessert worth ordering.

Lake Road Kitchen are only open Wednesday – Sunday and they only offer a tasting menu (five or eight courses with cheese supplement available). The menus change to make the best of the ingredients on offer, although we were told that they keep a note of what customers have eaten to ensure that when they return they get an entirely different set of dishes. This strikes me as above and beyond the call of duty, but is in keeping with the charming and extremely attentive service that we received throughout out time there. I honestly can’t recommend this place enough – the Lake District has always been somewhere to go to seek out culinary gems (L’Enclume, anyone?) and this is one of the shiniest that I have encountered so far.

Lake Road Kitchen
Lake Road
Ambleside
LA22 0AD
015394 22012

Sipsmith Gin at Shears Yard

Just seven days in and I've already failed in the entirely arbitrary challenge to blog every day in September.  The truth is, I'm absolutely exhausted this week!  I had entirely underestimated how difficult I would find going back to work after a month of lying around recuperation.  I am feeling fine in pretty much all other respects so am assuming it is simply a case of getting back into routine but oh, the weekend can't come fast enough. 

Before I had the operation, I think I briefly mentioned on here a gin tasting evening that we attended at Shears Yard, which I never got around to telling you about.  There is no point providing a detailed review since it was a one off menu developed for a one off event, which seems to be something that Shears Yard goes in for fairly often.  The quality and value was top notch though - if you are local to Leeds, I would highly recommend signing up for their mailing list to stay apprised of all such happenings.

The one we attended, way back at the beginning of August, was in collaboration with Sipsmith Gin and consisted of a five course menu, with each dish accompanied by a specially developed gin cocktail.  Annoyingly, because I had to pay upfront on booking and that was quite a long time and a few drinks ago now, I can't now remember how much it cost - I think maybe £50, £60 per head? Whatever the exact details, we both commented on the value - the food was of a very high standard and the drinks were not only tasty but also potent enough to demonstrate that they weren't skimping on the key product.

As I said, the menu was specifically developed for the event so I won't bore you too much with details of dishes that will never appear on the standard menu.  But the juniper cured venison lion with duck liver parfait and fig bread deserves a special mention not least because I am very much into mini loaves at the moment...

I also really enjoyed the pink grapefruit posset, despite not being the biggest grapefruit fan in the world.  The addition of white chocolate, whose rich sweetness took some of the bitter sting from the citrus, and the genius textural element of puffed rice granola, made for a really well balanced, exciting and moreish pudding.  The accompanying cocktail, which combined Sipsmith London Dry with, among other things, lychee and blue curacao, went down pretty smoothly as well.

We have eaten at Shears Yard once before - a distressingly long time ago (February 2015 according to this review) and it is a crying shame that time, money and a desire to try new things mean that it will probably be another two and a half years before we go back.  But if you're looking for somewhere in Leeds which turns out bright, interesting, accomplished food at a reasonable price then it is definitely somewhere to bear in mind.  And look out for forthcoming events as well!  There's a Taste of New Zealand evening coming up at the end of September which sounds pretty interesting...

Shears Yard
11 - 15 Wharf Street, Leeds
LS2 7EH
0113 244 1444

Recipe corner: easiest ever chocolate pots

Although life may be tough at times, there is always, always chocolate.

When I was a child, my love of the good stuff was well known throughout the family.  You could guarantee that if we went out for a meal and there was a chocolate based dessert on the menu that my little piggy eye would immediately alight upon it; the creamier, the sicklier the better for my young taste buds.  My mother claims to still remember the expression on my face the first time that she gave me a chocolate button - the utter wondering delight that such a thing existed.

As I have got older my sweet tooth has receded to the extent that if you really, really pushed me, I'd probably opt for a starter over a pudding (always assuming that both wasn't an option).  But my predilection for cocoa based confections remains in tact such that if D sees chocolate mentioned on a dessert menu, he pretty much knows that all bets are off.

While I never met a chocolate pudding that I didn't like, I do think that a classic chocolate pot is possibly the ultimate.  It's unapologetic in its rich intensity, a true celebration of the cocoa bean.  And when I saw this recipe online, I thought that it must be too good to be true - as simple a thing as you ever did see.  Reader, it is not.  The only, only thing to watch out for is to make sure you add the water gradually - apply the merest modicum of patience, and chocolate pudding heaven is yours.

You could use flavoured chocolate.  You could add other flavourings yourself.  Or, you could sit back and let the star of the show shine through.  My most recent version made excellent use of the remains of a Prestat Easter Egg.  It turns out that the only thing that can make a Prestat Easter Egg better is the ability to eat it with a spoon.

Ingredients - per person

30g chocolate - I advocate going as dark as you dare
1 tbsp (which is 15g) boiling water
1.5 tbsp double cream
1 tsp vanilla extract

Boil the kettle.

Break the chocolate into small pieces and place in a microwave proof bowl.  Stick it in said microwave and, er, turn it on.  Every ten to fifteen seconds or so, remove the bowl, swirl it around and see where you are.  The chocolate will continue melting in the residual heat once you have removed it from the microwave and you don't want to overdo it.  Once you've mastered it, I promise you, this is by far the easiest way to melt chocolate.

When the chocolate is melted, first, stir through the vanilla.

Now, you are going to add the water.  I would recommend weighing it out direct from the kettle.  Start with just a small amount, and stir briskly.  Initially, it will look as if the chocolate is going to seize into a great big mess.  Keep going.  When the water is incorporated, add another splash and repeat until all the water is incorporated.  Remember to stir it until glossy between each addition.

Finish by stirring through the cream.  You should have a mixture which is roughly the consistency of a thin creme custard.

Pour into little espresso cups and chill in the fridge for at least an hour to allow the mix to set.

Enjoy, preferably on your own in a darkened room.  Maybe light a candle, play some soft jazz.  Have some quality time with it.  Remember, whatever life throws at you, there will always be chocolate.

Recipe corner: Hot cross bun pudding with salted caramel

I wasn't going to bother putting this one through the WW recipe builder, because frankly, there are some things that we are better off not knowing.  However, the original happened to include the nutritional information, so I've calculated the points for shits and giggles.  It's a scary number, but I promise you, if you make this recipe, you will thank me for it.  And we can all go for a long, daffodil strewn walk to burn if off, yes?

This recipe was originally published in March's Waitrose kitchen magazine and the only change that I made was to use skimmed rather than whole milk because I tend not to have whole milk to hand and I always feel that if a custard has double cream in it, it probably doesn't make an awful lot of difference.  It is a good dish for a dinner party because all the component parts can be made well in advance and then you just have to pour over the custard, strew the sugar and bake.  We did this just as we were sitting down to cheese and the timing worked out nicely.

We served this with a simnel cake ice cream which was basically a spice infused custard combined with dried fruit that had been pre soaked in brandy and Earl Gray tea, and chopped pieces of marzipan.  Vanilla ice cream would be a good accompaniment too though, or just a trickle of cream.

Oh, this makes slightly more of the salted caramel sauce than you need for four puddings, so keep the excess and pour over ice cream.  Or just eat with a spoon.

Ingredients

100 ml milk
100 ml double cream
Tsp vanilla extract
2 egg yolks
Tbsp caster sugar
4 hot cross buns, chopped into eight pieces
Tbsp demerara sugar

For the caramel sauce:

110g caster sugar
40g unsalted butter
1 tbsp brandy
75 ml double cream
Pinch of sea salt

Serves 4, 16 pro points per portion

First, the caramel sauce.  Put the sugar in a large saucepan - it needs to have a big surface area and a heavy bottom (a bit like me!)  Set over a low heat and allow to melt slowly.  Swirl it occasionally to ensure it is warming evenly but do NOT be tempted to stir.  While this is happening you can combine the brandy and the cream and get the butter measured out.

When the sugar is melted turn the heat up SLIGHTLY and simmer gently until it has turned a deep amber gold colour.  Watch it like a hawk - it will go from beautiful to burnt very quickly.  When it has gone as dark as you dare remove from the heat and stir in the butter (it will spit, so be careful).  Then stir in the brandy cream and the sea salt until combined.

Take the four ramekins you are using for the puddings and put a generous couple of tablespoons of sauce in the bottom of each one, swirling for even coverage.  Do this straight away while the caramel is still nice and loose.  Arrange the hot cross bun pieces on top.  You can do this in advance and set aside.

Put the milk, cream and vanilla in another pan and bring to just below boiling point - you want there to be lots of bubbles all around the edge just busily breaking the service.  While it is getting there you can whisk the egg yolks and sugar together lightly.  Remove the milk and cream from the heat and pour in a slow, steady stream over the egg yolks whisking constantly to prevent scrambling.  You can make this in advance as well.  Place some cling film directly on the top of the custard to prevent a skin forming as it cools and set aside.

Prior to serving, preheat the oven to 180.  Pour the custard over the buns and sprinkle with the demerara sugar then bake for 20 minutes or until golden.  You can drizzle more sauce on before serving if you like (and who wouldn't?)

Further notes on Easter Sunday

When playing host, D and I like nothing more than to feed people until they pop and wash said food down with as much wine as we can ply them with.  Our motto is never knowingly underfed.  Except that we are both quite pretentious so would probably try and translate it into Latin.

To kick off our Easter excesses, there were dips - a smoky, garlic laden baba ganoush and a surprisingly delicious tuna and apple mousse. The recipe for the latter will follow shortly, since it is one of those things that is incredibly quick and easy to knock up and is marvellous smeared over pitta, crudites or crackers depending on what you have to hand.

Then, to start, D's latest iteration of a prawn cocktail notable in particular for its smoky avocado puree and sun dried tomato flatbread.  Smoke and avocado is an absolute winning combination which we first encountered during a recent trip to The Yorke Arms and we found that the easiest and tastiest way to achieve it was by making scant use of this product: Liquid Smoke.  Seldom has a condiment been so aptly named; if you're a fan of smoky, barbecue flavours, I would definitely check this out.  Meanwhile, the flat bread was nicked wholesale from one of Jamie O's 15 minute meals and basically consists of blitzed up sun dried tomatoes in oil with flour, baking powder and a little water and then pan frying it until blistered and crispy.  Incredibly simple but an excellent way to add flavour and texture to the dish.

Dessert was another recipe that I'm going to put up here later this week because it is imperative that it is shared - salted caramel hot cross bun pudding with simnel cake ice cream.  If you like fruit, spice and rich vanilla sweetness then it is very important that you make this before the shops decide to stop selling hot cross buns (although I reckon a tea cake might do at a pinch).  Stay tuned, hop pickers!

Recipe corner: Hazelnut meringue cake with whipped cream and berries

I can't pretend that this post contains a recipe that is remotely WW or other diet friendly.  It is, however, cake and very good cake at that.  And it has fruit in it.  And no flour which makes it suitable for thems what can't eat flour.  So, as my brother said, practically a health food.

Last Monday, you see, was my mother's birthday and birthdays must always bring cake.  My brother D and family were visiting from London and very lovely it was to see them too.  My sister in law V is currently doing a sterling job growing a new little addition to the family and being mother to little D who at nearly two and a half is my favourite example of the toddler genre.  D and V took charge of the very important job of making Mum a birthday cake; I think I offered to help but I am far less efficient than the two of them, not to mention far more lazy, so ended up watching Shrek 3 with little D instead.  Which made me cry a bit when Shrek had a midlife crisis and decided he didn't want to be a husband and father anymore - I am predictably maudlin when it comes to marital unrest portrayed in the media.  Little D seemed to enjoy it though.

Anyway, cake.  I didn't get round to asking why they picked this particular one but I am glad that they did because it was very nice and perfect for the sunny weather we had last weekend - it felt almost more like a dessert than a cake.  We didn't put candles in it.  We did, however, drink champagne and sing happy birthday so I don't think Mum minded.

The only change that I have made here to the original Rachel Allen recipe is to reduce the amount of cream by 100mls.  I don't think that will make a great deal of difference (there was a lot of cream in lovely Rachel's version) and it does bring the point / calorie / fat count down a bit. 

Ingredients

10g butter
225 g hazelnuts, whole, skin on
6 medium eggs
200g caster sugar

To serve:
250ml double cream
10g icing sugar
Mixed berries
Fresh mint leaves

Serves 10, 11 pro points per slice

Firstly you need to toast the hazelnuts in a hot oven - there is an excellent how to here.

Now, using the butter, grease a loose bottomed (heh heh) 23cm tin and preheat the oven to 170 (fan 150).

Blitz the toasted hazelnuts in a processor (or, alternatively, you could work off some pent up aggression by pounding them with a rolling pin).  Whisk together the egg yolks and sugar until pale and fluffy and gently fold in the hazelnuts.

In a separate, clean bowl, whisk the egg whites until they form stiff peaks - or, until you can hold the bowl upside down over your head without getting an egg rinse.  Gently fold these into the other mixture until completely incorporated. Be sure to fold and not stir - stirring will destroy all those little air bubbles that you have just created into the whites and lead to a heavier cake.

Put the batter in the buttered tin and bake for around 45 mins until an inserted skewer comes out clean.  Rachel says don't worry if it sinks slightly in the middle - I take this to mean that it will inevitable sink in the middle.

Allow to cool in the tin for 10 mins before sliding out onto a pretty serving plate.  Allow to cool completely before the final stage.

Prior to serving, whip up the cream until stiff and then smear or pipe it on before decorating with fruit, a dusting of icing sugar and torn mint.

I take my pedometer for a walk

Oh, how I wished that I was one of those lucky souls who enjoyed exercising. 

I think I've had phases of tolerating it to the extent that I got into the routine of going along to things that were not entirely loathsome and then quite enjoyed the positive effect that it had on my physical and mental wellbeing.  But it is far, far easier to fall out of a routine than it is to get into one. 

It's safe to say that I am not in any sort of routine at the moment.  There is a gym a mere hop, skip and a jump away with a lovely pool and a whole array of exciting classes and I am struggling to motivate myself to get there.  D keeps telling me that I should walk the half hour straight line between my house and my office rather than jumping on a bus.  He is right of course.  But walking along a main road is terribly dull.  And, also, have I ever mentioned before the terrible problems I have with general balance and rightfootedness?  Part of the issue is my weight distribution; I am essentially a Weeble - an almost perfectly spherical thing perched precariously on two little legs.  I have to actually concentrate to resist the pull of gravity which would have me toppling forward at any given moment in time.

And part of the issue is very simply this - I am terribly, terribly lazy.  I would, in all seriousness, list napping as one of my favourite pastimes - especially while being lulled by the dulcet tones of an audiobook or something soothing from Radio 4.  D tells me that sleep doesn't really count as a hobby.  I beg to disagree.  I thought that when I hit my thirties I would finally grow out of my rather teenagerish sleep patterns, the ability to sleep until noon if left undisturbed.  It has not happened yet and, the thing is, now that I live alone, I sometimes have very little motivation to rise from my rather comfortable bed.

The good folk at Weight Watchers obviously have encountered people of my ilk before as a part of the WW programme is a thing called Activity Points - essentially, if you exert yourself you earn bonus points which can, in turn, be scoffed.  I've noticed a lot of people on the message boards laugh in the face of such gluttony - why, they say, would I go to the trouble of earning these points to then eat them?  Why, say I, would you not?  And Weight Watchers have gone one step further by inventing a pedometer that not only counts your steps but beeps every time you have shuffled far enough to earn one of these precious, precious points.  I've been toying with the idea of buying one for ages but finally cracked on Friday and have been walking round with it clipped to me ever since - consulting it every so often to see how far I've walked.  As motivaters go, it's surprisingly effective.

On Saturday, D and I took the pedometer out for a walk.  There was a Gu chocolate ganache pot with my name on it in the fridge and, as I trotted, slightly sweaty and grim faced a few paces behind him, my ear was constantly cocked for the sound of the beep that would get me one step closer to guilt free pudding.

Oh, and there were some pretty spring flowers as well...

Although I must admit that sometimes I stop to take a photograph not so much because I am overcome by the beauty of nature but that I need to catch a breath or two...shhhhhhhh.

Recipe corner - Valentine's Raspberry Souffle

Edited Feb 2012: I'm adding this recipe to Mrs M's first ever recipe link party - it seems appropriate given the time of year!  This is a fantastic, simple and (relatively) virtuous dessert to make for the one you love...

Raspberry souffle - sadly not mine!  (Taken from the Good Food Channel website)

A belated happy Valentine’s Day to everyone! Now, I know it is a cheesy Hallmark occasion designed to guilt people into spending money on cards and gonks. But I must admit that it does hold a special place in my heart.

A good few years ago – just over seven to be precise, I was in a pretty low place. I had just moved back in with my parents after a disastrous period of trying to assert my independence that had left me broke, tired and utterly heartbroken. That Valentine’s Day I received the most beautiful bouquet of flowers, sent by my gorgeous Mum to cheer me up. The gesture didn’t cheer me up though. It made me feel incredibly alone.

And so, it was on Valentine’s Day that I decided I needed to do something to take control of my life and I signed on to an Internet dating site. At that moment in time it didn’t cross my mind that I would meet anyone with whom I could have a long term relationship. But I wanted to take the initiative, seize the day...do something, anything, positive.

D was not the first man that I chatted with on there, but he was the first one that I actually met in person. As a couple, we didn’t get off to the most auspicious of starts, but despite everything, the relationship prospered and grew. And this year, I get to marry my best friend in the entire world, and I get to stand up in front of my family and friends and tell them how much I love and value him. So I always celebrate Valentine’s Day, because it was the day on which I took the first steps along the path that would lead to here, and to him.

Enough with the gushy stuff and on to the more important part of this post – pudding and, specifically, the pudding that I served as the final hurrah of my multi course extravaganza of a Valentine’s Day dinner.

This recipe, which is by Paul Heathcote on the BBC website, describes itself as “foolproof”. Now I must admit that I tend to distrust anyone or anything that uses that particular adjective, but on this occasion it may have been justified. Certainly it was simple to put together, and a lovely way to end a meal. I didn’t pick it because it was WW compatible – that was just a happy accident, but I would definitely make it again, without a qualm, for a dinner party.

The only change I have made to the original recipe is to halve the portion size – and this is only because my ramekins could only hold a quarter, as opposed to half, of the mixture. After several other courses though, the reduced quantity was absolutely fine. One of the key things I’m learning about myself is that I need a lot less food than I think I do. And I would rather eat a smaller portion of something yummy that a large bowl of something bland and worthy.

Oh, and I should mention, that D used the remaining half of the mixture the following night. It had split slightly, but a good whisk to reincorporate the raspberry and the meringue, and Bob’s your uncle, two more soufflés. So they are obviously pretty forgiving if you want to make them in advance. Personally, I made the coulis before hand and then had the egg whites and sugar laid out in bowls to do the whipping and folding at the last minute.

Ingredients

250g raspberries
4 egg whites
100g (plus 2 tsp) caster sugar
1/2 tsp cornflour, dissolved in a little water
2 tsp butter

Serves 4, 4 pro points per serving


First, evenly butter and sugar ovenproof moulds for the soufflés and place in the freezer.


For the coulis, add half of the sugar to the raspberries. Place in a hot pan and cook quickly for 2-3 minutes with a good squeeze of lemon juice. Liquidise with a hand blender and pass through a sieve to remove the seeds.

Place 2 tsp of coulis in the bottom of the soufflé dishes and thicken the remaining coulis with the moistened cornflour.

For the meringue, ensure the whisk and bowl are free from grease by scalding in boiling water or rubbing a lemon around the surface of the bowl, then place the egg whites into the bowl and start to whisk (an electric whisk makes life an awful lot easier!) Gradually add the sugar until the mixture forms a soft, glossy peak then finish off with a good squeeze of lemon juice.

Briskly whisk about a third of the egg white mixture into the thickened coulis and then gently in the remainder, taking care to keep in the air.

Divide the mix between the dishes.

When ready to bake, space out on a tray and bake in a medium to hot oven (180C/350F/Gas 4) for approximately 10-15 minutes depending on the size and dish.

Dust with icing sugar, place a raspberry on top (if you so fancy) and serve immediately

Recipe corner – Get Ready To Crumble!

Had a bad day?

Feeling like the world is against you?

You need….crumble!

There is no pudding in the world that can put a smile on my face like a gorgeous, steaming bowl of fruit crumble. Ooooh, except maybe sticky toffee pudding. Or hot chocolate fudge cake. Or….ahem. Easy there, tiger!

It occurs to me that anyone who ever comes across this blog may not realise how sweet a tooth I have, mainly because I never seem to post sweet recipes. I’m not sure why it is that I rarely make puddings – possibly because we tend to have a stash of chocolate in the cupboard most of the year round that provides sweet treats as and when required.

I have sampled, by way of research you understand, most of the WW own branded desserts and my feeling is, for the most part – don’t bother. They all taste a little artificial to me – and pudding is one area where quality is definitely more important than quantity. One thing I do often have in my freezer is a pack of Del Monte Smoothie lollies. These are 3 points apiece and gorgeously smooth and fruity, like a really indulgent sorbet. Far nicer than anything WW has yet produced in my opinion. I also recently discovered that Magnum Minis work out at only 5 points, which, ok, is not an every day kind of thing, but definitely worthwhile for the occasional splurge. The Limoncello and Irish Cream flavours that they produced for Christmas were fabulous – I’m hoping these are not limited editions.

Anyway, back to the crumble, and here is my recipe based on one from the WW site…the only concession it makes to virtue is using half fat butter, and I don’t find that this makes any real difference to the final flavour. I like Lurpak Lighter and tend to keep it in the fridge anyway for those times when only a crumpet or slice of buttered toast will do. I am also adamant that the best crumbles contain oats – purists may beg to differ, but what can I say, I want my crumble topping to taste a bit like a Hob Nob biscuit.

This is 9 points which sounds a bit ouchy – but the other night we had a bowl of 2 point soup followed by the crumble which was a fantastically comforting tea for a chilly January evening and, taken as a whole, doesn’t do too much damage to the daily allowance.

Ingredients

60g plain flour
30g jumbo oats
40g half fat butter
40g caster sugar plus a tablespoon for the fruit*
½ tsp cinnamon
6 sticks of rhubarb

*You could sweeten the rhubarb with artificial sweetener which would reduce the points by 1 per portion.

Serves 2, 9 pro points per person

Combine the flour, cinnamon and oats in a bowl and rub in the butter until the mixture ressembles damp sand (you can do this stage in a food processer which saves a bit of time). Stir through the sugar.

Meanwhile, chop the rhubarb into roughly 5cm pieces and place in a saucepan with a splash of water and a tablespoon of sugar (you could also add some warming spice at this stage – cinnamon and ginger both work well). Place over a low heat until the rhubarb has softened but still retains some structure.

Tip the rhubarb into an ovenproof dish and tumble the crumble (poetry!!) over it. Bake in a hot oven (180 – 200) for 30 mins, or until the top is golden and the fruit is beginning to bubble up at the sides. Leave to cool for 5-10 mins before serving.

Gorgeous with cream, ice cream or custard (unless you’re me and don’t really like the stuff – an Englishwoman who doesn’t eat custard! The shame!) – remember to include any additional points.

Sit back, relax and indulge.

How the Cook Crumbles

When you were a child how many times do you think you said “When I grow up I’m going to….”

I know for a fact that I intended to eat Coco Pops for breakfast every day, avoid semolina and have proper puddings midweek. My mother was perfectly capable of making fabulous puddings, but she had somehow got hold of the crazy idea that puddings were for High Days and Holidays only. If we wanted sweet after tea during the week, our choice was restricted to yoghurt or fruit. It’s probably one of the reasons I developed a secret biscuit habit.

Anyway, now I am all grown up and I can have puddings any time I like. The problem is that I am a grown up who is endeavouring to fight against her stubborn flab and puddings (other than yoghurt and fruit) can seldom be slotted into the day after an evening meal. And so I tend not to bother with puddings except when I go out.

It was this article that prompted the craving for crumble. A proper autumn fruit crumble with the slightly tart fruit bubbling up through a sweet, oaty topping and a judicious amount of cream. The problem? How to slot a proper sized portion of crumble into my daily points. The solution? Have pudding instead of tea! And so it was that last night, instead of the Moroccan style chicken with olives and sweet potato mash that had been tentatively planned, I baked an apple and blackberry crumble (6 points a portion) and topped it off with a dollop of WW crème fraiche (0.5 points). Not only did it exactly hit the spot but actually, I found it sufficiently filling that I didn’t go to bed hungry which I always assume I will if I don’t eat a “proper” meal. I think D also approved – well, we’re having the rest of the crumble for tea tonight.

In other news, if you’re looking for something to distract you from work, check out the link at the bottom of the page to “The Foodie Blogroll”. It may seem slightly contrary for a dieter to take such a lascivious interest in food blogs, but I am endlessly fascinated by what other people eat – and often find them a source of great inspiration when it comes to planning my own daily meals.