Fantasy Dinner Guest - Julian Cope

This in the first in a little series for this blog, that I've tentatively named "Fantasy Dinner Guest", although I'm sure I'll think of a better title for it later.  The premise is simple - if I had the opportunity to cook for a famous person that I admire (for whatever reason), what I would dish up.  So I'm kicking off the series with a long-standing musical hero of mine (and Tamworth's greatest export),  Julian Cope:

If you're not a Copehead, just look him up on Wikipedia if you want a potted history of his career!  But I think that the following are a more interesting way to get to know his music, his writing and about what he stands for:

Essential reading and listening:

Head Heritage, Julian's official website.  This has what you'd expect, with the usual details of tour dates and releases but unusually, Julian and his wife Dorian (a music fan and historian in her own right) are closely involved in maintaining the site and post regular updates.  Julian has obviously never lost his enthusiasm for discovering new music (particularly heartening that he's still open-minded about this, as he's now in his early 50s) and his monthly update, "Address Druidon", includes reviews of albums that he's just discovered.  It also is highly political, although not in a party political sense.  Whilst Julian and I part company when it comes to some of the methods he advocates to draw attention to issues he cares about (he's certainly more of an anarchist than I am), we are united in our hatred of cruelty, greed, ignorance and people just generally fucking up the planet.

"Head On" and "Repossessed" (these are now published together in the same volume, following the acclaim with which "Head On" was received on its initial publication), Julian's two volumes of autobiography. "Head On" deals with Julian's early musical career with The Teardrop Explodes in the early '80s and the subsequent rows and disillusionment that led to their split.  It's a bitchy and entertaining account of the Liverpool music scene at that time, with cameos from people who went on to be famous in their own right, including Ian McCulloch, Bill Drummond, Pete Wylie, Pete Burns, Holly Johnson and the scene's youngest hanger-on, Courtney Love (referred to only as "The Adolescent").  There is also a (thankfully brief) account of his having sex in a broom cupboard with Lydia Lunch (yikes) and more romantically, the story of how he met his second wife (and soul mate), Dorian.  The issue of his cavalier treatment of his first wife, Cathy (who he dumped in order to pursue a transatlantic relationship with Dorian) is sidestepped but he's forced to face up to this in a confrontational interview with a local radio DJ that is described in the second volume, "Repossessed".  "Repossessed" covers the period immediately following The Teardrop Explodes' split through to the early years of Julian's solo career.  Julian achieves a commerical peak with the successful 1987 album "Saint Julian" but the book ends in 1988 with his disappointment at the critical reception of the follow-up album "My Nation Underground" (which he freely admits contains some of his weakest work).  "Repossessed" is my favourite of the two volumes because as well as containing accounts of how Julian's early solo songs came to be, there is a lot in it that is touchingly personal.  Julian describes how his fear of the solo songs he wrote being derided by the music industry that he was no longer part of led to an inertia bordering on agoraphobia.  He is brutally honest about this paranoia, which was certainly made worse by his out of control drug abuse during this period.  It certainly isn't all gloom and being a hermit though: I particularly enjoyed the account of his increasing obsession with collecting vintage toy cars (well, we've all got to have a hobby).

"The Modern Antiquarian" (first published 1998).  As well as being a musician and social commentator, Julian has developed a parallel career as a historian specialising in megalithic Britain, particularly pre-Christian belief systems.  "The Modern Antiquarian" was eight years in the making and was based on an ambitious task: to visit every megalithic site (typically stone circles and burial mounds but pretty much everywhere of Pagan significance) in England, Scotland and Wales.  The fact that it was very much a Cope family undertaking (Dorian and his daughters, Albany and Avalon, who were toddlers at the time came along too) is particularly impressive.  Lovingly packaged, this hefty book is split into two sections.  The first part is a series of essays about the development and decline of goddess worship in Britain and how this shaped the landscape.  The second is a colour-coded gazeteer of the sites (complete with OS Map grid references), with photographs and personal reflections.  "The Modern Antiquarian" was published to enthusiastic reviews (from professional historians as well as readers new to the genre) and led to Julian being sought after as a guest speaker, delivering lectures on his studies at the British Museum!  There was a BBC documentary based on "The Modern Antiquarian" (which you can still check out on YouTube), of which Julian has said since that he didn't enjoy making (a shame, as I think he's a natural as a TV presenter).  "The Modern Antiquarian" has remained in print ever since it was first published and naturally enough was followed by "The Megalithic European", which covered megalithic sites in other European countries.

"Fried" (1984) was Julian's second solo album, recorded at the height of his self-imposed reclusiveness in the countryside near Tamworth - crueller critics thought that title referred to the state of his brain after considerable LSD experimentation.  Nontheless, it contains some great songs, like "Reynard the Fox", "Sunspots" and "Land Of Fear" (the latter being re-recorded for his 1995 album "20 Mothers") which hint at the greatness yet to come.

"Droolian" (1990), along with "Skellington" (recorded the same year) are both now rarities and very lo-fi, being recorded over short periods, some songs included being first takes.  "Skellington" was recorded illicitly in secret sessions when Julian was supposed to be recording "My Nation Underground", as something closer to what he wanted to achieve rather than toeing the line with what Island Records wanted (Island eventually dropped Julian after "Jehovahkill" in 1992).  "Droolian" was released only in Texas (on a small label, Mofoco) and the profits were used to aid of one of Cope’s heroes, the former 13th Floor Elevators frontman Roky Erickson, who at that time was in jail without legal representation.  The dog on the sleeve cover of "Droolian" is Smelvin Cope, described by Julian in "Repossessed" as a "weiner" (charming).

The following were later described as a trilogy of albums with the theme of the various ways that the human race is destroying itself and the planet.  I know it sounds dangerously hippy but bear with me - Julian's one pissed off guy here, producing some of his best songs.  A lone voice of common sense in the wilderness:

"Peggy Suicide" (1991) - dealing with mankind's damage of the environment (Peggy Suicide is the female embodiment of Planet Earth - sort of like Mother Nature - this album marks the start of Julian's awareness of goddess worship, a theme he returns to a lot).

"Jehovahkill" (1992) - dealing with the damaging effects of patriarchical Judeo-Christian organised religion (so not one to play when the vicar comes round).

"Autogeddon" (1994) - dealing with the increase in car culture in the Western world and the damaging effects on the environment.

Nowadays, Julian releases music on his own Head Heritage label and has several side projects under the names Queen Elizabeth, Brain Donor and most recently, Black Sheep.  These sound very different from the typically psychedelic pop that most people associate with Julian Cope - much heavier hard-edged garage rock.  However, it's not just a group of middle-aged blokes living out their rock star fantasies, as the lyrics are more topical and political than ever before.  However, "You Gotta Problem With Me" (2007) was something of return to the style of his early solo work: a massively ambitious double album using mellotron keyboards and orchestral percussion.

This is just a fragment of Julian's work (and I haven't even mentioned his writings about cult music like "Japrocksampler" and "Krautrocksampler"), which I'm still discovering.  I strongly recommend going to seeing him play live - he typically is on stage without any support band for at least 2 hours!  This sounds like it would be an interminably long and tedious set but it's not - Julian chats to the audience and plays songs from all stages of his career, usually backed by long-standing collaborators like the massively talented Donald Ross-Skinner and Thighpaulsandra.

Why I chose the menu:

Julian came to be a vegetarian relatively late in life, being brought up by Welsh parents used to having to be thrifty when it came to food, which usually meant eating the cheapest cuts of meat and offal (he refers to this in this 2000 interview and also in "Repossessed").  So I chose Glamorgan Sausages as a veggie-friendly nod to his Welsh heritage but also because it's lovely comfort food and not too unhealthy.  The accompanying Caramelised Red Onion Chutney gives it a bit of a kick.  I love the fact that in the sleeve notes to Julian's 1995 album "20 Mothers", he mentioned that he made his own jam from the plums growing in his garden.  I just thought that the fact he didn't care about whether or not he might be thought uncool or not rock 'n' roll for doing so was brilliant.  So in a salute to this admirable insousiance, I've made a steamed Jam Sponge for dessert, using my home-made Plum and Elderberry Jam (I thought he'd approve of Mother Nature giving me a helping hand, as both the plums and the elderberries were foraged from ones growing wild).  It's a feast for any veggie that you love, or indeed anyone that you love.

Glamorgan Sausages (I found this particular recipe on the Welsh Tourist Board website but various versions of it abound everywhere - serves 4)

200g fresh white breadcrumbs (you can buy ready-made dried breadcrumbs but they're easy to make - either rub the bread on the coarse side of a grater or whizz it up in a food processor)

100g Caerphilly cheese, grated (I couldn't get Caerphilly - yes, Tesco being crap again - so used some mild Welsh goat's cheese instead and it worked really well)

1 tablespoon flat leaf parsley, chopped

1 tablespoon coriander, chopped

1 small leek, finely chopped

Freshly milled salt and black pepper

1 tablespoon whole grain mustard

3 free-range eggs

1 tablespoon plain flour, seasoned with salt and pepper

1. Mix 125g of the breadcrumbs with the cheese, fresh herbs and leeks and season well.  Lightly beat 2 eggs with the mustard and combine with the dry ingredients.  Mix until bound together, adding a little milk if necessary.
2. Divide the mixture into 12 and roll into sausages.  Coat the sausages in seasoned flour and chill for at least 20 minutes.
3. Before cooking, beat the remaining egg and using the remaining breadcrumbs, coat each sausage in egg and then breadcrumbs.  To cook, fry the sausages in a little vegetable oil for approximately 10 minutes until golden brown all over.  Serve with Caramelised Red Onion Chutney and a green salad.

Caramelised Red Onion Chutney (from Fraser Doherty's "Super Jam Cookbook") - makes around 2 average-sized jars)

8 red onions

1 red chilli

2 bay leaves

25mls olive oil

200g soft light brown sugar

150mls balsamic vinegar

150mls red wine vingear

Jam pot covers and 2 clean jars with metal lids 

1. Preheat your oven to its lowest setting and put your jars in (on a baking tray) to warm and sterilise them.
2. Cut your onions and chillis into short, thin slices and put them into a pan with the bay leaves and oil.  Cook gently over a low heat for about 20 minutes.
3. Once the onions are dark and sticky, add the sugar and the vinegars and simmer for 30 minutes or so, until the chutney is thick and dark.
4. Pour the chutney into hot, sterilised jars and cover (for a description of how to cover jars of hot jam or chutney so that you get an airtight seal, see the recipe for Plum and Elderberry Jam).  Ideally, this chutney should be kept for at least a month before eating, in order to allow the flavours to mature.

Jam Sponge (from Sarah Paston-Williams' "Good Old-Fashioned Puddings" - serves 6)

115g (4 oz) unsalted butter (+ 1 teaspoon extra for greasing the bowl)

115g (4 oz) caster sugar

2 free-range eggs

115g (4 oz) self-raising flour

Pinch of salt

1-2 tablespoons of cold milk

3 tablespoons of jam of your choice

A 1 1/2 pint pudding basin (I use one of those heatproof plastic ones with a lid, as they make life a lot easier) 

1. Butter the pudding basin and the inside of its lid thoroughly.
2. Cream the butter and sugar together until pale and fluffy.  Beat eggs a little at a time to the creamed mixture, beating well between each addition.  Sieve the flour and salt together and carefully fold into the mixture using a metal spoon.  Add enough milk to make a soft dropping consistency.
3. Spoon the jam into the buttered basin , then pour on the sponge mixture.  Clip the lid on securely, then steam for 1 1/2 hours until well risen and spongy.  This isn't as difficult as it sounds - put the basin into a suitably-sized saucepan and pour in enough boiling water from the kettle until it comes about 2/3 up the sides of the basin.  Bring to the boil, then turn the heat down to a simmer and put the saucepan lid on.  IMPORTANT - keep checking regularly that the basin isn't boiling dry and top up with more water from the kettle if it looks as if the water level is getting low.
4. Use a wide spatula or similar implement to fish out the pudding basin, remove the lid and turn it out on to a plate.  Serve with custard - and extra jam! 

Quick and Fishy

I have a really bad food shopping habit of snapping up ingredients that I love whenever I see them at knock-down prices, regardless of a) whether or not I've already got plenty in stock at home and b) if the size of the jar or packet is ridiculously large for a household consisting of one person.  I did this again last Thursday when I went to the legendary Winners Bargain Centre in Bicester, which is the sort of place where you go in to buy batteries and come out with catering-sized boxes of tea bags, cling film and enough washing powder to keep a small launderette going for several months.  Amongst the "bargains" I came home with was a stupidly large jar of capers for 99p (and yes, it was still within date, although with Winners you can never be too sure).  I then had to find something to do with them other than put then on top of pizzas with black olives and anchovies (YUM). 

I then found this recipe, which is from "Cooking Outside the Box: the Abel and Cole Cookbook" by Keith Abel.  Abel and Cole are a fantastic, user-friendly organic fruit and vegetable box company, who now also sell storecupboard essentials, bread, meat, vegetarian foods, wine, chocolate and all sorts of other lovely goodies and I recommend them highly.  The measurements may look a bit odd (a glug of this and half a mugful of that) but one of the things I like about this book is that Keith doesn't assume that you have loads of fancy kitchen gadgets or cooking experience (so a good book for beginners as well as people who want to eat food at its seasonal best).  I switched lemon sole for plaice (I live about as far from the sea as it's possible to be and sadly there is no fishmonger's, so it's Tesco or nothing) and it was absolutely delicious.  A good one for when you need to rustle up a really tasty supper and don't have the time or the inclination to spend ages doing so.

Lemon Sole (or Plaice) with Wine, Toasted Almonds and Capers (serves 4)

1/3 mug of flaked almonds
4 lemon sole fillets (I used plaice instead and it was delicious but any white fish would do)
Flour, for dusting the fish
Salt and freshly ground pepper
A glug of olive oil
1/2 mug of dry white wine
1 1/2 tablespoons of capers, chopped
Juice of 1/2 a lemon
Grated zest of a whole lemon
A large knob of butter
A handful of chopped parsley, to serve

1. Start by toasting your almonds in a dry frying pan over a medium heat for about 2-3 minutes, tossing regularly until golden, then remove from the pan.
2. Dust the fish fillets with flour.  Then heat up a good glug of olive oil in a big frying pan for about 2 minutes on each side (SMELLY KITCHEN ALERT - the smell of frying fish really lingers so open all your windows).  Season with salt and pepper, remove the fish from the pan and keep in a warm place.  Unless you have a gargantuan pan, you will probably need to cook the fish in a few batches - not a problem at all.
3. Once the last fish has left the pan, put the wine in the pan and crank up the heat.  Let the wine reduce by half, then add the capers, lemon juice, lemon zest, butter and almonds and give this a good stir until the butter has melted.  Now plate up your fish and spoon over the sauce, sprinkle with parsley (as you can see from the photo, I was so keen to dig in, I forgot all about the parsley) and serve.

The Best Roast Chicken Ever?

I've always been particularly interested in French food, something I've had very little experience of cooking.  This is possibly because of its reputation for being difficult, so I'm trying to overcome this sense of intimidation.

As most of my favourite French dishes (eg: Confit du Canard, Cassoulet, Tarte au Citron) are heart-stoppingly high in fat and/or sugar, it's always mystified me why you never see many obese French people, women especially.  I read a book some years ago called "French Women Don't Get Fat" by Mireille Guiliano, which aimed to explain this.  As I remember, the key reasons for this phenomenon were explained by Mireille as follows (some of these I approve of and some I don't - I'll leave it to you to guess which):

• Portion sizes tend to be smaller in comparison to food in the UK (which seems to be going the way of super-size America).  However, the intense flavours and loving care taken to prepare food mean that your tastebuds are more easily satisfied.
• French people take more time to eat meals and really savour them, not shovelling food down on the hoof or in front of the telly.
• There is a strong salad culture in France and chefs devote the same care and imagination to their preparation as they do with any other dish.
• The French woman's attitude towards the dessert course is to eat one spoonful and then sneak the rest on to their partner's plate (because of course it's OK for men to be fat in France but women taking up room is not on).
• French women are more likely to smoke in lieu of some courses during a meal (although I was surprised to see that the public smoking ban seems to have now reached Paris so it may be less acceptable than previously to chuff away whilst other people are trying to taste their food).

In her book "The Skinny French Kitchen", Harry Eastwood presents a collection of recipes that taste authentically French but which use significantly less fat than in traditionally prepared French food.  I rather like Harry.  She is a bit of a jolly hockey stick (and has a serious Daddy fixation) but her eccentricity is quite endearing (in her last book, "Red Velvet Chocolate Heartache", she ascribed personalities to the various cakes - a fine example of behaviour that in someone less posh or rich, would be described as symptomatic of mental illness).

I was drawn to the following recipe from "The Skinny French Kitchen", partly because Harry has boldly named it "The Best Roast Chicken Ever".  I was intrigued by the fact that it includes lemongrass, which I associate with Thai food rather than French.  Authentically French or not, it is DE-LICIOUS and a good one to knock up when you're cooking to impress.  I served it with very simple boiled new potatoes and a lightly dressed green salad - as it's so packed with flavour, anything else would be overdoing it.  It doesn't sound like a lot of meat for four people but as the stuffing is so tasty, you don't really need much chicken.

The Best Roast Chicken Ever (serves 4 - 332 calories per serving)

1 small free-range chicken, weighing around 1.2 kg

For the stuffing:
1 tablespoon olive oil
200g wild mushrooms eg: ceps, girollesor chanterelle, roughly chopped (I used a packet of dried wild mushrooms, reconstituted in hot water and made the weight up with some chestnut mushrooms, which I figure are a bit more interesting than bog standard button ones)
Freshly squeezed juice of 1 lemon
2 tablespoons parsley, finely chopped
1 stick of lemongrass, finely chopped (my best friend Karen bought me a really good mezzaluna as a Christmas present and it makes light work of chopping something as tough and woody as lemongrass)
2 tablespoons fresh tarragon, finely chopped
2 garlic cloves, peeled and minced to a pulp
2 slices proscuttio, finely chopped
1 tablespoon of half-fat creme fraiche
Salt and pepper

1. Preheat the oven to 160 degrees C/325 degrees F/Gas Mark 3.
2. Heat the olive oil in a large frying pan until really hot, then add the mushrooms and fry until they are golden.  Set aside.
3. In a large mixing bowl, mix together all the stuffing ingredients, including the warm mushrooms.  Taste, then season thoroughly with pepper and a little salt.

Stuffing ingredients

4. Next, run your fingers between the skin and flesh of the chicken, starting with the breasts and ending up with the legs.  Be gentle as you separate the skin from the flesh - you need to avoid ripping the skin.
5. Spread the stuffing generously all over the flesh of the bird, securing it with the skin so that none runs out (Harry notes that it helps to tie the chicken's legs together).

Frankenchicken

6. Put the chicken in a baking tray at the BOTTOM of the oven and cook for 45 minutes to 1 hour.  (*** IMPORTANT: The aim here is to cook the chicken SLOWLY so that it is cooked right through.  Make sure that the chicken is cooked thoroughly by piercing the thickest part of the thigh with a sharp knife - the juices should run clear, not red or pink.  No blood should ooze from the cavity or underside of the chicken either - if it appears that it's cooking unevenly, cover the chicken with tin foil to stop the breasts from browning too much and give it a little longer.)  Rest for 15 minutes before serving and spoon the juices over as gravy.

The cooked chicken on the only piece of Crown Devon Stockholm tableware that I own (subtle hint for future Christmas presents)

Plum and Elderberry Jam

I love the idea of cooking with ingredients that I've foraged for myself and managed to find both the plums and elderberries used in this recipe growing wild on common land not far from where I live (Richard Mabey's "Food for Free" is probably the best field guide on the subject - now in a handy pocket-sized edition - but for goodness' sake, do be especially careful about eating mushrooms that you come across!).  This recipe is from Fraser Doherty's "Super Jam Cookbook" (sounds like a nice lad, young Fraser -  a sort of teenage jam entrepreneur/geek) and makes me feel like Madame Cholet as I'm cooking it.  OK, she may not have been my favourite Womble (that's Orinoco) but I have to love someone who cooks Dandelion Stew and Bramble Jelly.

You will need several clean jam jars (the sort with metal lids - things like coffee jars with plastic lids are no good) with the labels soaked off and a packet of jam pot covers (available from hardware shops like Robert Dyas and kitchenware specialists like Lakeland).  Jam pot covers tend to come in two sizes (1 lb and 2 lb) - go for the larger ones if the jars you're using are wide-necked (as Bonne Maman ones tend to be).

Plum and Elderberry Jam (makes 3-4 1lb jars)

1kg granulated sugar
900g plums
100g elderberries
Juice of 1 lemon

1. Put a saucer or small plate into the fridge (you'll see why later).  Preheat the oven to its very lowest setting.  Pour the sugar into a baking tray/roasting tin and put it at the bottom of the oven to warm (hot sugar dissolves more quickly).  Put the clean jars (not the lids) on a baking tray on the shelf above.
2. Slit the plums and remove the stones but don't throw them away.  If the plums are large, you may need to chop them into chunks.  Put the plums, their stones (the stones contain a lot of pectin, which is what will help the jam to set), the elderberries and 1 tablespoon of lemon juice to start with into a large heavy saucepan.  Cook the fruit over a low heat for around 20 minutes until softened.
3. Add the warmed sugar to the fruit mixture and gradually bring it to the boil, stirring with a wooden spoon every so often.  Once the jam is boiling, keep it like that for around 5 minutes, making sure it doesn't boil over.  Keep stirring your jam to make sure it doesn't burn on the bottom - it should be starting to thicken.
4. You now need to keep checking your jam from time to time to see if it's starting to set.  Remove the pan from the heat and spoon a small blob on to your cold plate (remember that?). Leave the blob to cool and push it with the side of your finger.  If the sample wrinkles when you push it, it's ready.  If it's still too thin, add a little more lemon juice to the pan, return it to the heat and keep boiling and doing the cold plate test until it's ready.  Use a slotted spoon to fish out the plum stones.
5. Remove your hot clean jars from the oven and spoon or pour in the jam, filling them right up to the top.  A heatproof jug is very useful here, as is a specialist metal jam funnel.  Take care as hot jam is like molten lava and you can get a nasty burn if you're not careful.
6. In your pack of jam pot covers will be some discs of greaseproof paper.  Press one on the surface of each jar of jam (waxy side down), making sure that there are no gaps between the paper and the surface of the jam.  The pack will also contain cellophane discs.  Wet the centre of each one with a dab of water and place it (damp side up) over the jar of jam.  Secure in place with an elastic band - as the jam cools down, the cellophane disc will contract, forming an airtight seal.  Done properly, this will prevent mould forming on the jam and it will keep for at least a couple of years unopened.
7. Last but not least, sterilise the metal lids by putting them in a small pan of water and bringing to the boil before draining, thoroughly wiping dry and using to secure the jars.  Don't forget to label your jars with the contents and the date it was made.

Hubble bubble ...

The finished jam (named after the scrumping location)

Tru-Blood Sorbet

It's REALLY hot outside.  I've always wondered how goths stay cool in hot weather, wearing all that black.(Incidentally, did you know that goths have the lowest life satisfaction level, with the exception of traffic wardens?).  The joke response to this is "eating blood slushies" - which leads me neatly on to this recipe.

I found this Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall recipe after being given some redcurrants and wanting to make something a bit different with them.  It's just equal quantities of raspberries and redcurrants pulped (whizzed up in a blender or mashed with a potato masher), sieved to remove the pips, sweetened with icing sugar at a ratio of 4:1 fruit to sugar and then frozen.  It tastes wonderfully refreshing on a hot day and I ended up re-naming it Tru-Blood Sorbet because the beautiful ruby red colour and slightly gloopy texture looks like the eponymous synthethic blood substitute favoured by idealised vampire boyfriend Bill in vampire porn TV series "True Blood" (a guilty pleasure of mine).  Enjoy.

Tru-Blood (Raspberry & Redcurrant) Sorbet

500g raspberries
500g redcurrants
250g icing sugar

1) Mash the fruit up (either in a blender or give it a good whacking with a potato masher). 
2) Put a large sieve (preferably a nylon one as a) it's finer and b) a metal one will react with the acid in the fruit) over a large bowl and tip in the mashed fruit.  Use a large spatula or spoon to push the fruit through the sieve, leaving you with fruit puree in the bowl and just pips left in the sieve.
3) Whisk the icing sugar into the fruit puree until dissolved.  Pour into an ice cream maker and churn until frozen before decanting into a container suitable for the freezer and freeze until needed.  If you don't have an ice cream maker, you can serve this as a granita - just pour into a container and freeze and rake it into shards with a sturdy fork before serving.

Banoffee Cupcakes

My work colleagues do pretty well when I get the baking urge, as I very often end up taking the end result into work to share out.  My friend Val's kids go particularly mad for banana muffins (they often end up getting their own side order) but I came up with these as a variation.  They are INCREDIBLY SWEET because of the fudge-style topping - I had to have a strong coffee with mine to provide a contrast - don't say I didn't warn you!  Because of this and because of the addition of mashed banana to the basic cake mixture, I've cut down on the amount of butter and sugar used in the cakes.  It's a good one for using up over-ripe bananas (the blacker the better) - I freeze them until I need them because I'm a bit eccentric like that.

The frosting comes from Martha Swift and Lisa Thomas' "Cupcakes from the Primrose Bakery" and is half the quantity in the original recipe (you'd probably better book a dentist's appointment at the same time as buying one their cakes then).  It sets very quickly (the wonky rice paper toppers in the photo are like that because the frosting had already set and I had to stick them down with a small blob of royal icing).  This recipe makes 12 cupcakes.

Banana cakes:
75g unsalted butter, at room temperature
75g caster sugar
2 very ripe bananas, mashed
2 medium eggs
125g self-raising flour, sifted
1/2 teaspoon baking powder

Caramel frosting:
30g unsalted butter
3 tablespoons milk
110g light soft brown sugar
120g icing sugar, sifted
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract

1. Preheat the oven to 180 degrees C/Gas Mark 4.  Line a muffin tray with 12 cupcake cases.
2. Beat the butter and caster sugar together until pale, light and fluffy.  Beat in the mashed banana.
3. Beat in the eggs one at a time, adding a tablespoon of flour with each egg.  Fold in the remaining flour and baking powder with a large metal spoon, until there is no flour left visible.  The mixture will look slightly curdled at this point, don't worry.
4. Divide the mixture between the cupcake case and bake for 20-25 minutes until the cakes are golden and spring back when you gently press them with a finger.  Leave them to cool on a wire rack.
5. Once the cakes are cooled, get on with making the frosting.  Place the butter, brown sugar and milk in a saucepan and bring to the boil, stirring continually.  Let it boil for about 1 minute, still stirring.
6. Remove this sauce from  the heat and whisk in half the icing sugar.  Leave it stand for around 1 minute, then whisk in the vanilla extract and remaining icing sugar.
7. Spread the frosting over the cakes whilst still warm as it will cool and set very quickly.  Add any toppings (eg: banana chips, crushed Dime bars) whilst the frosting is still soft.

Vegan Jaffa Cake Dessert

This pudding came about when I was pondering the injustice of there not being a vegan equivalent of trifle as (to my knowledge), no-one has ever devised an acceptable non-dairy substitute for double or whipping cream (or not in the UK anyway).  It is a bit of cheat as there is not much cooking involved but it's a good one for slinging together at the last minute as it sets quickly and mostly uses ingredients that you can find in a decent supermarket.  I was pleasantly surpised to find out that vegan jelly is easier to find than I thought.  In my research, I came across three brands that do an orange or mandarin flavour - Green's Quick-Jel, Hartley's QuickSet Jelly (not the regular variety) and Marks & Spencer's from their Terribly Clever range. I made my own vegan sponge cake base for this but you might find that your supermarket sells a ready made equivalent as part of a FreeFrom-type range (or if your dessert doesn't have to be vegan, use ready-made trifle sponges).

This makes either one big dessert (to serve 6-8 people) or 6 individual ones.  It tastes pretty good!

For the vegan sponge base:
50g non-dairy margarine
50g caster sugar
20g egg replacer
50g self-raising flour, sifted

1 small tin mandarin oranges in juice
1 quantity orange or mandarin vegan jelly (if you use Quick-Jel, you'll need both sachets)
x1 4-pack of dark chocolate flavour Alpro Soya desserts (they also do a regular chocolate flavour if you don't like dark chocolate - personally, not something that I understand - or if you're nostalgic for the flavour of that Heinz Chocolate Pudding that you had as a baby), chilled
40g good-quality dark chocolate, finely chopped

1. If you're making your own cake base, preheat the oven to 180 degrees C/Gas Mark 4.  Drain the mandarin segments of juice but don't throw the juice away (you'll need it for the jelly).
2. Beat together the margarine and caster sugar until pale, light and fluffy.  Using a metal spoon, fold in the egg replacer and sifted flour until there are no specks of flour visible.  You'll need to add a small amount of water to get the cake mixture to a soft dropping consistency.
3. Spoon the cake mixture into a prepared tin (one 7" sandwich cake tin is ideal).  I thought I'd save on washing up and put mine in fairy cake cases in a bun tin (the mixture will fill six).  Bake for around 20 minutes until the cake is golden and risen (it should spring back when you gently press it with a finger).  Leave the cake to cool on a wire rack.
4. Once cooled, break the cake into pieces and use to line your serving dish.  Arrange the drained mandarin segments over the sponge.
5. Make the jelly according to the packet instructions but use half water and half mandarin juice.  Leave it to cool slightly before pouring over the cake and fruit layer.
6. Once the jelly has cooled, place it in the fridge to chill.  Just before serving, spread the chilled chocolate soya dessert over the jelly and top with the finely chopped chocolate.

Good Day Sunshine

I hardly ever buy ready-made muesli any more, as I find a lot of them have a lot of added sugar (regular Alpen being the worst culprit) or are just a bit boring (I quite like the Dorset Cereals range but they are very expensive).  Not what you want from a “health food”.

Lucky then that making your own muesli is very easy – just remember the old Lucky Strike slogan, “it’s toasted” and you won’t go far wrong!  I can’t remember where I originally saw this recipe (probably the result of internet surfing) but think of it as a blueprint for your own tastes or whatever you’ve got in the cupboard.  It’s great for using up whatever little amounts of nuts and dried fruits you’ve got left over, especially after a Christmas baking session.  Sultanas and raisins are fine as dried fruit additions but don’t limit yourself to those – for instance, dates are great for adding sweetness.  I promise you, you will not need to add any sugar.  Some of my favourite combinations include:

• Superfood: dried apricots (snipped into pieces), dried blueberries and toasted walnuts.
• Tropical: dried pineapple and mango (chopped), dried banana chips and a little toasted dessicated coconut.
• What I call Naughty Muesli (strictly a once a year Christmas breakfast treat): toasted almonds, chopped dried sour cherries and chopped dark chocolate.

Some nuts are suitable for toasting (almonds, hazelnuts, unsalted peanuts, pecans, coconut and walnuts), others will just go soft due to their high fat content (macadamias, brazils and pistachios) and are better added raw to the cooled muesli along with the dried fruits.  You will probably need to get the barley flakes and wheatgerm from a health food shop (Holland & Barrett stock both) but once you’ve got them, a little goes a long way.  This muesli is very cheap to make and keeps well (store in an airtight container).

200g porridge oats

75g barley flakes

25g wheatgerm

50g chopped nuts

50g chopped dried fruits of your choice.

1. Preheat the oven to 170 degrees C/Gas Mark 3.
2. Mix the porridge oats, barley flakes, wheatgerm and chopped nuts together and pour into a large roasting tin.  Bake for around 15 minutes until the mixture is golden and lightly toasted – give it a stir with a spatula halfway through and do keep an eye on it as nuts burn very easily.
3. Leave the mixture to cool and then stir in the dried fruits before transferring the muesli to an airtight container.  Serve with milk, yogurt or fruit juice.

Muesli with apricot, cranberry, almond, coconut and fig

Some Like It Hot (Part 2)

I absolutely love all Indian food and love cooking it at home.  Vicky Bhogal's "Cooking Like Mummyji" has become my Bible as far as Indian food goes - but yet again, it's another book that's gone out of print (what is wrong with some publishers?!)!  Vicky grew up in a Sikh family in the Midlands and is on an evangelical mission to popularise what she calls "British Asian cooking".  This is what Asian families in the UK eat at home as opposed to what we're used to eating in "Indian" restaurants.  It is very different to curry house food - lower in fat, fresher flavours and using a surprisingly simple list of ingredients.  The staple ingredients tend to be onions, garlic, coriander, green chillies, turmeric, root ginger, tinned tomatoes and garam masala - these form the foundation of many dishes but the book is full of all sorts of wonderful variations that do taste very different.  I've amended some of the quantities in Vicky's original recipe slightly as she's a little too heavy handed with the oil and salt for my taste.

This dish is medium to hot, depending on whether or not you leave the chilli seeds in (I did and was definitely in need of the cooling Cobra beer that you see in the photograph).  I served it with plain basmati rice and the Cauliflower, Pea and Potato Bhaji in the previous post.  In case you're wondering, "thariwala" is a Punjabi word that describes any curry dish with a runny sauce.  Great for dipping your naans or chapatis in!

Daddy's Thariwala Lamb (serves 4-6)

800g boneless lean lamb, cubed
A splash of vegetable oil (you don't need much but keep stirring the onion to make sure it doesn't burn and stick)
1 large onion, chopped finely
1 garlic clove, chopped finely
1 cup of canned chopped tomatoes, whizzed in a blender (or the same quantity of passata)
1/2 teaspoon ground turmeric
1 tablespoon grated fresh root ginger
2 green chillies, chopped finely
1 teaspoon of salt
4 teaspoons garam masala
2 handfuls of chopped fresh coriander
Juice of 1/2 a lime

1. Gently heat a large frying pan (preferably non-stick).  Place the cubes of lamb in the pan and cook on a low to medium heat until there is no pink flesh to be seen.  When the lamb is pale brown all over, turn off the heat.  Discard the fat by draining the meat in a colander.
2. Heat the oil in a large saucepan and add the onion.  Fry until a deep golden brown and add the garlic (this is my own variation - I always cook the onion first and then add the garlic.  This is because garlic burns very easily and tastes bitter and horrible if it does.).  Cook for a further 1-2 minutes until the garlic has softened but not browned.
3. Turn the heat down and add the tomatoes, turmeric, ginger, chillies, salt, garam masala, a handful of coriander and a good splash of water.
4. When the mixture becomes shiny and the oil separates, add the lamb.
5. Stir thoroughly to coat with the mixture.  Stir-fry for 5 minutes.
6. Add the lime juice and enough boiling water to make a runny sauce for the lamb (not too much, you don't want to end up with soup).  Bring to the boil.
7. Reduce the heat and simmer, covered, on a low heat for 35 minutes.  Sprinkle with more coriander before serving.

Some Like It Hot (Part 1)

This recipe is a winner.  I cooked this as a side dish to go alongside a lamb curry and plain basmati rice but there is no reason why this shouldn't be the star of the show in its own right as a main course.  It's basically a dry-textured vegetable curry, so if, like me, you like having something to dip your naans/chapatis in, why not serve some dahl and/or chutneys alongside?  It looks beautiful once cooked and you've added the garnishes, as it's so colourful.  It's also one of those very useful recipes where you can do the initial cooking and then leave it to stand, just giving it a final blast in the oven when you're getting ready to dish up.  And I normally hate cauliflower but this convinces even me to give it a second chance.  Leftovers (if there are any) go very nicely in a warm pitta bread or wrap with a spoonful of raita on top.

I do think it's only fair that I credit my sources - it's another Jamie Oliver recipe but I can't find this anywhere in any of his books.  I came across it in the 2003 Comic Relief fundraising book "Funky Food"- if you buy a second-hand copy, please do the decent thing and bung Comic Relief an extra quid or two come March.  Ta.

My top tip for cooking Asian and Caribbean food is get to know where the specialist food shops in your area are and pick the brains of the people who work there!  My favourite shop for the more unusual ingredients is the Eastern & Continental Store on Cowley Road, Oxford.  Spices are an especially good buy - much better value and more choice than supermarkets and probably fresher too, as they have a higher turnover of stock.

Cauliflower, Pea and Potato Bhaji (serves 4)

A bunch of fresh coriander
4 medium potatoes, peeled and diced (waxy ones like Desiree work best)
1 cauliflower, broken into florets
A pinch of black mustard seeds
1/2 teaspoon of cumin seeds
1/2 teaspoon of fennel seeds
1/2 teaspoon of coriander seeds
1/2 teaspoon of fenugreek (methi) seeds
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 tablespoon of butter (this is dead easy to make into a vegan dish - just substitute the butter for 1 tablespoon of vegetable oil)
1 onion, peeled and finely sliced
A pinch of turmeric
A handful of frozen peas
4 ripe tomatoes, roughly chopped (I skin mine before adding as I hate the way that tomato and pepper skins come adrift in hot food and stick in your throat - but by all means don't bother if you're not as squeamish as me)
1 fresh red chilli, thinly sliced (this will make the finished bhaji quite hot - remove the seeds from the chilli or omit altogether if you prefer mild curries)

1. Preheat the oven to 220 degrees C/425 degrees Fahrenheit/Gas Mark 7.
2. Remove the stalks from the coriander and chop finely.  Put these to one side, then chop the leaves.
3. Boil the potatoes and cauliflower for 10 minutes.
4. Bash the whole spices to a powder with 1 teaspoon of salt, using a pestle and mortar.  Melt the butter in a pan and fry the onion gently for 5 minutes with the coriander stalks until soft.  Add the spice mixture and the turmeric and fry gently for another minute.
5. Drain the potatoes and cauliflower and add to the pan with the peas and chopped tomatoes.  Stir everything together, then season to taste.
6. Place in a baking dish and cook in the oven for about 15-20 minutes until golden.  When serving, sprinkle with the chopped coriander leaves and chilli.

Light Relief

You might think from reading this blog so far that everything I cook is very rich and indulgent.  Whilst I love my grub, I'm not daft and I know that heart disease/Type 2 diabetes/gout are no joke and so I do try to be sensible some of the time.  I do actually own quite a lot of diet recipe books (as part of the strange and contradictory relationship I have with food) but don't very often use the Weight Watchers-type ones as  - well, some of the end results taste like cack.  Who wants to eat a large serving of a cake made with artificial sweetener, ultra-low fat margarine and 0% fat yogurt when you could eat a smaller portion of a cake made with real ingredients and enjoy it so much more?

One of the better (ie: contains recipes for things you'd actually enjoy eating) healthy eating cook books that's come along in recent years (although the title is cringeworthy) is "Fat Girl Slim" by Ruth Watson.  Sadly it seems to be out of print now but you shouldn't have any trouble getting hold of a copy second hand.  Ruth is a gastropub owner and food enthusiast who managed to lose 4 and a half stones by applying the same principles of not compromising on quality or flavour to low-fat meals as she would with anything she'd serve to customers.  Some of the recipes do use ingredients that are expensive or difficult to source for many people.  But this recipe isn't too outrageous and best of all, tastes great and comes in at a respectable 480 calories per serving, if you skip the rice noodles that I served it with (largely to finish off a few lonely noodles in the bottom of the packet).  Unless you're really hungry, it doesn't really need any accompaniment.

Salmon Teriyaki and Wilted Greens (serves 2)

2 salmon escalopes (preferably with the skin still on)
2 tablespoons Chinese rice wine/sake/dry sherry
1 teaspoon caster sugar
2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 large piece root ginger, peeled and grated
A little groundnut (or vegetable) oil + 1 tablespoon
3 spring onions, trimmed and cut into thirds at an angle
1 garlic clove, peeled and finely chopped
3 pak choi, separated into leaves, root ends trimmed (OR you could do what I did and use a bag of fresh spinach instead)
100g beansprouts

1. Put the salmon into a shallow non-reactive (ie: not metal) container.  Whisk together the rice wine, sugar, soy sauce and ginger and pour over the fish.  Leave the escalopes to marinade in the fridge for at least 30 minutes but preferably 2 hours (turn the fish over halfway through).
2. Drain the marinade into a small pan and bring to the boil over a high heat, uncovered.  Continue to boil for just 2 minutes, the marinade will thicken slightly.  Set the pan aside.
3. Pat the salmon dry with kitchen paper and very lightly oil each piece on either side.  Place a heavy frying pan over a medium-high flame and when it is very hot, put in the salmon skin-side down.  WARNING - nothing lingers in your clothes/hair/furniture like the smell of frying fish so make sure you have all the windows nearby open or if you have a tiny kitchen like mine, invest in some Febreze.  Cook the fish for 4 minutes, brushing the salmon with the marinade halfway through.  Turn the fish and baste again.  Cook for 4-6 minutes (depending on the thickness of the fish), again basting.  The salmon is ready when it has turned from translucent to opaque in the middle.
4. Meanwhile, heat the remaining 1 tablespoon of oil in a wok or large frying pan over a medium flame.  Toss in the spring onions, garlic and pak choi/spinach and stir-fry for a few minutes until wilted.  Add the beansprouts, toss thoroughly and pour in a dash of the marinade.  Continue to stir-fry for 1-2 minutes, or until the veg is tender-crisp, then divide it up between 2 plates.  Perch the salmon on top (skin-side up) and brush over any remainin marinade.

Ruth Watson urges you to eat the skin, saying "it's almost the best part".  I completely agree and couldn't help feeling slightly miffed that the salmon pieces I used were skinless. 

Coffee Kisses

I was going to visit Penelope, a friend of mine who recently had a rather grisly operation (steel pins and all) on one of her feet and I wanted to take something along that’s a bit more exciting than grapes when you’re under doctor’s orders to rest up.  As a person of very good taste, I knew that Penelope would appreciate these biscuits called Coffee Kisses.  Under no circumstances should they ever be described as “cookies” as their heritage is very British and goes back to 1930!  The recipe is from the eighteenth edition of “Be-Ro Home Recipes”, which you could (and still can, I believe) obtain by writing to the manufacturers of Be-Ro flour.  I couldn’t resist showing you photos of my browned, splattered and rather musty-smelling copy, which belonged to my grandma, was then my mother’s and is now mine.  The book is quite a funny (or depressing, I can’t quite make my mind up) artefact in itself because the 1930s language is incredibly sexist.  An advert for Be-Ro flour on page 15 has a cartoon of “little Margery” with her shopping basket (you can tell Margery’s a 1930s child because she’s got a giant bow in her hair) telling us how “Baking days would be blank days in little Margery’s life without Be-Ro.  She looks forward to the pleasant hours spent with Mother making dainty Be-Ro cookies”.  Life on the edge, eh, Margery?

 

This recipe is the best use I can think of for Camp coffee essence (it sure as hell isn’t as a drink).  Incidentally, have you noticed how the label on Camp has changed recently, to make it not racist?  I always remember it as the guy in the kilt being served coffee by the Sikh guy, implying a master-servant relationship (still, he got his own back – he was giving him a foul chicory-based coffee substitute, after all).  Now they’re both sitting in front of the tent having a nice cuppa together.  Aww.

 

Anyway, I used to beg my mum to make Coffee Kisses (she loved them too) and I urge you to try this recipe because they are utterly delicious and nothing at all like anything you can buy in any shop.

Coffee Kisses (makes at least 20 sandwiched biscuits)

150g plain flour, sifted (use Be-Ro if you want to give a nod to the provenance of the recipe, not that it will make the slightest difference)

75g cold unsalted butter

75g caster sugar

One egg, beaten with 2 dessertspoonfuls of Camp coffee essence

 

Filling:

50g icing sugar, sifted

25g softened unsalted butter

A few drops of Camp coffee essence

 

1. Preheat the oven to Gas Mark 4/180 degrees C and grease two baking trays.
2. Rub the cold butter into the flour until the mixture resembles breadcrumbs, then stir in the caster sugar.
3. Mix in the egg/coffee mixture until a stiff dough is formed.
4. Use a teaspoon to place small dollops of the mixture (the Be-Ro book describes them as “the size of marbles”), spaced well apart on the baking trays.  This should give you around 40 blobs (ie: 20 sandwiched finished biscuits).  As you can see in the photo, I ended up with 26 (ie: 13 sandwiched finished biscuits) because I can never exercise portion control and mine were pickled onion-sized.



Too big!



 



5. Bake for around 10 minutes or until golden and firm to the touch.  Watch them like a hawk because they do cook very quickly.  Carefully prise them off with a spatula or similar and leave them to cool on a wire rack.  They will harden slightly on cooling but not too much: their texture has more in common with soft American cookies (oops, I did say I wouldn’t use the other “c” word) than ginger nuts.

6. Beat the softened butter until pale and fluffy and then beat in the icing sugar and Camp until you have a smooth, spreadable buttercream.  Use the buttercream to sandwich together the biscuits halves.  Devour greedily with a nice cup of tea.

 

Spicy Meat Gumbo

My friend Mark came over for dinner last Tuesday and as he's a strapping lad and fellow meat-lover, I knew this recipe would fit the bill: Spicy Meat Gumbo.  It’s from Jamie Oliver’s “Jamie’s America”, which is divided into six chapters, each one focussing on recipes from a different American state or area (New York, Louisiana, Arizona, Georgia and the Wild West).  This is from the chapter on Louisiana and is a rather soupy meat stew, served with rice.  Jamie is very pedantic about ingredients but in case you’re put off by his list of commands recipe below, you should know that:

• Tesco do mixed packs of free range chicken drumsticks and thighs (£3.50 for around 7 pieces), so don’t stress yourself hunting around for them separately.
• One of those little packs of ready-cut bacon lardons work brilliantly in place of the suggested bacon.
• Chorizo also works well (good luck with finding andouille outside of London) but don’t forget to skin it before you slice it.
• Chicken stock cubes dissolved in hot water works perfectly well in place of the chicken stock (use a decent brand though and don't forget to use less salt as stock cubes are very salty).
• Dried bay leaves instead of fresh are fine.

Spicy Meat Gumbo (serves 6-8)

4 chicken thighs, skin on, preferably free-range and organic

4 chicken drumsticks, skin on, preferably free-range and organic

Sea salt and freshly ground pepper

1 teaspoon paprika

1 teaspoon cayenne pepper

Olive oil

400g smoked sausage, such as andouille or fresh chorizo, thickly sliced

4 rashers of smoked streaky bacon, the best quality you can afford, roughly chopped

1 large onion, peeled and finely chopped

1 green pepper, deseeded and chopped

1 yellow pepper, deseeded and chopped

4 sticks of celery, trimmed and finely chopped

3 heaped tablespoons of plain flour

6 cloves of garlic, peeled and finely chopped

1 kg sweet potatoes, peeled and roughly chopped

6 sprigs of fresh thyme

4 fresh bay leaves

1.5 litres chicken stock, preferably organic

A small bunch of fresh curly parsley

4 spring onions, trimmed and finely sliced

1. Season the chicken with salt, pepper, paprika and cayenne.  Put a large pot on a high heat, add a little olive oil and fry the chicken, sausage and bacon for around 15 minutes, or until golden brown and crispy.  Remove the browned meat pieces to a dish, leaving behind what looks like a scary amount of fat – don’t be tempted to discard any of it as you’ll need it to make the roux.
2. Turn the heat down and add the celery, onion and peppers to the pan.  Slowly stir and fry these for around 10 minutes, until they have softened.  Now for the roux.  Add the flour to the veg and stir thoroughly.  In order to give the roux maximum flavour, you have to take your time with this stage and make sure that it’s gently browned and everything is cooked evenly.  You should cook it for at least 10 minutes (and up to 30 minutes if you have time), stirring every now and then.  Jamie suggests that dark is good here (not burnt obviously) and says “peanut butter colour is a good starting point” (just as well as the book doesn’t come with a colour swatch).
3. Once your roux has achieved the Jamie-approved hue, add the garlic, sweet potatoes, browned meats, thyme and bay leaves and stir and fry for a further minute.  Pour in the hot chicken stock, bring to the boil and then pop a lid on the pan and turn the heat down and leave the gumbo to simmer for around 45 minutes.  When it’s done, the sweet potatoes will be soft and have thickened the gumbo slightly.  I did as Jamie suggested and fished out the chicken pieces and shredded the meat off the bones with a fork, discarding the skin and bones, before returning the meat to the pan.
4. Taste the gumbo and season if necessary.  Roughly chop the parsley and stir it in, before ladling the gumbo over bowls of cooked white rice (Basmati every time in this household – Uncle Ben can keep his American rice).  Scatter over the chopped spring onion before serving. 

Tabasco is a sound addition to this, I think, as despite the title, the gumbo is savoury rather than hot.  Don’t be tempted to miss out the spring onion, it does add extra flavour and crunch as well as a splash of colour.  This would be a really good dish to cook when you’ve got large numbers of people to feed.  It’s very hearty and bolstering and, if I’m honest, could never be put in the category “diet food”.  Mark and I went for it properly and followed it with all-American cherry pie and vanilla ice-cream.