Over or Under

06/09 OVER or UNDER

There is a strange moment before any journey where you need to stop and meditate on all the turns and paths ahead of you. The road isn't always going to be straightforward, or smooth - you face the decision to go over the mountain or under it. If the mountain defeats you, where then will you go? The rugged peats of these profiterole mountains are an untameable beauty, yet inside these small pastry mountains is a creamy heaven waiting to be found.

Together they collide in spectacular form, the clashing textures are unified with nutty cocoa creaminess - eloquent I know. They appear to involve much more work than there actually is - the most annoying part will be washing up just because you end up with a stack of used bowls. They are calming to make, and provide quick reassurance that even the most daunting adventure is always full of surprises. 

Ingredients (all approximate) - 

150g Plain Flour
50g Butter
3/4 Cup Water
1/2 Tsp salt
3 eggs
100ml Cream
50g Dark Chocolate
1tbls Nutella
Handful of chopped almonds


What I did - 

Don't panic! This isn't a recipe of pain, it is a thing of great beauty. Simply because it involves little to no skill and creates delicacies of awe.

Start by melting the butter into the water with the salt. Once dissolved add the flour and return to the heat for a brief moment while you mix it into a single paste - the water will evaporate and it will become a dough almost instantly. Transfer to a food processor (or a bowl and a strong, fast arm) and one by one add the eggs. The end result will be a sticky paste - less of a dough than before. Dollop tablespoon amounts onto a lined baking tray and bake for 40 minutes at 180 degrees. Easy.

Turnt he oven off and let them cool completely into puffed pastry shells. Whip the cream with the nutella until firm, then using a piping bag poke a hole in each pastry and  squeeze until they are fattened with the nutty cream.

Put in the fridge while the chocolate is attended to. Melt until black and glistening. Then bathe the top of each profiterole in the molten chocolate. Sit them upright on a tray and scatter the almonds on the top.

Leave in the fridge for half an hour before eating so that all the different components come to an agreeable temperature and the chocolate is wonderfully matted. Fiddly fun, and you've now got cream on your face.

JG

Poisoned Apple

24/06 POISONED APPLE

Apples are the embodiment of deadly beauty. Their eternal temptation and mystery are encapsulated in biblical mythology, Grimm faerie tales and endless reels of celluloid. I have always enjoyed believing in the far-fetched, if only for the fantastical stories told through the ages taking on a life of their own. A glistening apple instantly foreshadows doom, rich in waxy beauty.

To me an apple is both delicious and repulsive, I can't stomach the skin - I may be alone in this but it has grown into a dire aversion. Raw apples are always peeled of their poisonous skins. However something magical happens when they are cooked. Roasted or stewed with its skin and core looses all acrid taste (to me) and becomes its true darkly delicious form. Baked in a sugared, smoked whiskey they become burnished golden treasure waiting to be conjured from the oven. Time and willingness to accept mystery will transform this forbidden fruit - Before the poison.

Ingredients (all approximate) - 

13 Red Apples
1 tbls Raw/Dark Sugar
1 shot Whiskey
1 tsp butter


What I did - Oven preheated to 160degrees

Line all the apples up for the chopping block. Don't peel them, just cut out their core then into even-ish pieces. Tumble into a cast iron pot, or ceramic baking dish (so long as it has a lid). Shower the sugar over the apple pieces, then douse them with a heady shot of strong whiskey. Stir them around so that the sugar and whiskey poison each of the apple pieces. Nib the butter in the centre of the pot so that as it slowly cooks the butter will melt down and caramelize with the run off sugar and whiskey liquid.

Bake for 3-4 hours. Don't stir. Don't look. Don't dare do anything. Just let it simmer away, the apples will wither and darken, the sugary-poison filtering through completely. Turn the oven off and leave to cool overnight. You can eat this hot, but the heat from the sugar and alcohol kills the flavour. Best to have cold, with a substantial dollop of cream. The apples will have transformed into a darkly mischievous treat, daring you to take another bite.

JG

Devious Pavlova

01/06 DEVIOUS PAVLOVA

"...indeed grow in grace & beauty. 

But as the sun sets..."

We return to the backwards land of the Pavlova. Where everything makes sense in no way at all. Soft cream enveloping dark meringue canyons, contrasting textures clashing in suspended animation. By the time desert is served it is almost too late to face anymore food, what an awkward situation. Conjuring the mischievous balance between dark decadence in flavour and ethereal lightness is key. A pavlova is physically light as cloud, yet unmoderated can become sickly sweet.

The chocolate here subverts the ethereal desert and it transforms into a brooding storm cloud. Cocoa and chocolate give body to the meringue making it deviously rich. The battered raspberries have been swirled up in the cream and sharply cut through the sugary sweetness. Together the clash of these two flavours make a beautifully rich yet graceful desert. Moderation by flavour, beauty in constraint. Qualities I love and honour here for Maleficent, my Mistress of all evil.

Ingredients (not-so-approximate) - 

6 Egg Whites
300g Castor Sugar
1 tsp Balsamic Vinegar
2 tsp Cocoa
50g Dark Chocolate
300ml Cream
1 Tbls Nutella
200g Raspberries


What I did - Oven preheated to 180degrees

Egg whites, sugar and cream are the foundation of all Pavlova - however all forms of chocolate are liberally added here to create something decadently deviant. The chocolate makes the meringue chewy like a macaroon, less eggy than a plain meringue - both mutations suit me just fine.

The oven needs to be preheated, and the meringue started - and I implore you to find a stand mixer to use (or someone who can stand and mix while you keep calm). Whip the egg whites and vanilla into a stiff, frothy cloud. Then on a high speed trickle the sugar in in a slow stream, the whites quickly become enameled and glossy. Once the sugar is combined, add the vinegar and cocoa - the cocoa acts like corn-flour and helps the whites cook without seeping. In as few turns as you can manage, fold in the grated dark chocolate so that the glossy is flecked with chocolate shavings.

Line a baking tray and flatten the stormy cloud of meringue into an even disc - not neat, but even thickness. Slide it into the oven and immediately reduce the heat to 150degrees, baking for 30 minutes. Turn the heat down to 120degrees for a further 45 minutes. The sign that the bake is working is if there is no change in shape. The gloss should turn into a chalky bone and (don't panic it should happen) the chocolate will crack deep ravines around the edges. Turn the oven off and leave the door ajar until completely cooled.

Turn the hollow disc out onto a wide serving plate, peel the baking paper off. The dome will collapse opening deep cracks around the edges. Start whipping the cream, add the raspberries halfway. Their ruby beads will jewel the cream as the whip decimates them. When firm fold the Nutella through roughly, not so that its combined but instead dark veins run through white. Crown the meringue in cream, and then dust chocolate shavings to finish.

Rest in the fridge for at least an hour so that all the layers settle and fuse together. When you cut into it to serve the chocolate will have penetrated every layer of this Pavlova with the same intensity as a wild storm that soaks you to your core - just more desirable.

JG

Crack'd Pavlova

09/05 CRACK'D PAVLOVA

"...then forget about falling from grace"

Nobody's perfect, what do you expect. I try my best, but feel that falling from grace carries a fragile elegance. There's nothing wrong with embracing a free fall, it can bring you back to reality, and its ugly to fight it. All well and good, but this is a cake. A cake which flourishes in the fall. Like its poised namesake, the meringue leaped and fell, landing in a broken heap. Violated by the visceral blood of the berries. Such dramatic description is in honour of the theatrical muse it was invented for.

The collision of the shattered egg-white and the soft cream carries the lightest flavor -  submissive only to the strength of the dark berries. Without pain there is no beauty and always relishing the flamboyance of the dark side - Maleficent, Darth Maul, Grace Jones - this subversive taste is hugely attractive. Let yourself fall, living is a beautiful mess.

Ingredients (not-so-approximate) - 

5 Egg Whites
300g Castor Sugar
1 tsp White Vinegar
2 tsp Corn Flour
1 tsp Vanilla
300ml Cream
Mixed Berries/fruits (fresh)


What I did - Oven preheated to 180degrees

This recipe is coming from someone who as a child never warmed to Pavlova, and avoided ever since. However, I realized that I like all the elements separately and am persistent when challenged. Saying that this is an amalgamation of various one-and-only recipes, and worked crackingly. 

The base for any variant of Pavlova is egg whites, sugar and cream. The flavors and extras are all dependent on what you have at hand. So this version happens to be a gorgeously Eton-mess-esque vanilla berry version. There should be no rules when it comes to flavor and rarely ever repeat.

The oven needs to be preheated, and then the meringue can be started. Its not that hard, but having a stand mixer helps remove any stress of failure - the most unhelpful ingredient of any kitchen. Whip the egg whites and vanilla into a stiff, frothy cloud. Then on a high speed trickle the sugar in in a slow sandy stream, the whites will become enameled and glossy quickly. Once the sugar is combined, add the white vinegar and corn flour - this helps the whites to cook firmly without unwanted moisture.

Line a baking tray and flatten the glossy cloud of meringue into an even disc - not neat, but an even thickness. Slide it into the oven and immediately reduce the heat to 150degrees, baking for 30 minutes. Turn the heat down to 120degrees for a further 45 minutes. The sign that the bake is working is if there is no change in shape, but the white gloss should turn into a chalky bone. Turn the oven off and leave the door half open until the meringue is completely cooled.

Turn the meringue disc out onto whatever elven serving dish you can get your hands on. Let the chalky dome collapse and peel off the baking parchment. Now for the topping, whip the cream with a handful of berries in so that they are bashed into submission and pigment the cream with flecks of colour. Spatula onto the crushed cloud then crown with the ruby berries*.

Let it rest in the fridge for an hour or letting the layers fuse. There is no point trying to serve this gracefully, spoon into bowls. Your mouth will recognize the fragility.

*The berries are macerated a la italia, in a slug of equal parts dark balsamic vinegar and sugar. 

JG

Ice-Creamed Dynasty

07/01 ICE-CREAMED DYNASTY

It seems fitting that this recipe comes nearly two months after it was made, simply because it was waits for the right - most decadent - time to be released upon the world. It is coming from the heart of chilled churned cream, Florence - playground of the Medicis. A century spanning family empire with nearly as much drama as Joan Collins' Dynasty, although half as fabulous. Ice cream is a product of their glorious city, and this was made just as I embarked on my epic that brought me here.

No honour of those surviving the heat back home, please don't shy away from this recipe. It isn't as hard or dangerous as it seems. If you do feel fear in the face of brining the Medici empire back to culinary life feel free to go to the shops and get an ice cream. I will feel comforted knowing you are enjoying something with me, dynasties and seas apart. Chin chin, wipe your chin.

Ingredients (all approximate) - 

300ml Cream
300ml Milk
4 Egg Yolks
150g Castor Sugar
2 Vanilla Pods
50g Fig Jam

What I did - 

*Ice cream isn't complicated, it just involves some equipment or commitment. An ice cream machine or a churn on a mixer will take all the mystery out of freezing the cream. Otherwise you can commit to the whisk and churn the custard manually in the freezer every two hours or so. About five times and on the last churn add the jam like below.

But first things first, make a runny custard. Scald the milk, cream and vanilla in a pan until verging on boiling. Take off heat immediately. Beat the eggs and sugar until pale and thick. Remove the vanilla and scrape out its glossy black seed paste back into the milk. Quickly beat a cup of milk into the eggs to looses and warm the mix. Once combined beat the rest in fast without letting too much air in. 

Return to heat for a few minutes until thickened, but not enough to set. About five minutes constantly stirred. Chill mix in fridge until cold or overnight. Then ready for its beating, churn churn churn.

Turn the ice cream mixer on a slow speed and churn the ice cream for about 10-12 minutes. By this stage it should have thickened and formed a thick soft serve. Pour into a container to freeze overnight. Before clamping down with a lid, tip the fig jam over and mix it one or twice with a spoon so that the pale beige cream is ribboned with gleaming streaks of jam. 

Set to freeze over night. Serve in a cone or in two wafers to make a decadent Medicice-cream sandwich.

JG

Midnight Martian Magic

07/11 MIDNIGHT MARTIAN MAGIC

 

I'm not superstitious, but the endless depth and unfathomable unknown of space has the power to terrify and rapture. I also believe that midnight is the witching hour, a time brining change for better... or worse. On the stroke of midnight between the 17th and 18th of August I was born into the world, proof there is no way to avoid calamity. The fate of this cake was torn by these forces. Baking by the moon at midnight conjured a magic brining the cake back from inevitable disaster.

The fruitcake cauldron method was taught by Prof. Lawson, albeit an improvised recipe which got lost in the space between cake and brownie. I set out to bake a decorated Bundt* cake. But living up to its name, it ended up sticking to the ancient tin and loosing its molding. A frustrated sleep later the cratered top was remedied with a thick buttercream. Supernaturally reborn, this Bundt of a cake resembles interstellar rings but tastes truly magical.

*Bundt: NOUN def. someone/thing that is a bit shit, missing core aspect, frivolous ornamentation, pot-plant holder. A ring-shaped cake made in a fluted tube pan, called a Bundt pan.


Ingredients (all approximate) - 

3 eggs

200g Self-raising Flour

200g Muscovado (Dark) Sugar

200ml Honey
175g Unsalted butter

1 Whiskey Shot

100g Dark Chocolate

200g Raisins

75g Dried Apricots (chopped fine)

Pinch of salt
1 tsp Ground Coffee

2 tbls Orange Marmalade
 

*I haven't found the buttercream recipe yet, but any French one will do so long as it isn't sickly sweet.


What I did - Oven preheated to 160degrees

My midnight cooking usually starts with a cast iron pot. This is no exception and the whole cake mix is made in the one cauldron, a fruitcake secret passed on from Nigella. Tumble the raisins, apricot, honey, sugar, marmalade, salt, coffee and whiskey into the pot and simmer over a low heat. Stir constantly until you have a glistening fruit mixture, when combined turn heat off. Chop the chocolate finely so that it melts with ease. Stir it as it succumbs to the heat creating a gleaming aromatic lacquer.

Leave the mix to cool and prepare the baking tin, I use a 25cm Bundt tin which reduces the depth of the cake and for such a dense mix ensures an even bake. Make sure you line the bottom and flour the sides, avoid all my mistakes. Then measure out the flour, and beat the eggs in a bowl.

Give the mix a stir, if there is any steam rising let sit longer to cool. Add the eggs quickly beating them before they cook. When combined add the flour and beat again. The mix morphs into something much lighter and should be set in the tin immediately. Level the mix and bake for 1.5 hours. Don't be hoodwinked by the subtle rise, it will cook through and have a dark shiny crust.

Unmold the cake and leave to cool until the morning. I wasn't happy with the botched Bundt bits, so I found a French buttercream recipe to landscape the top. I used cocoa and alien black-sugar to blast one side of this Martian fruitcake like a solar flare. Le voyage dans la lune 🌝

JG

Note: Best served in thin slices with coffee or tea, something to manage the intensity. Unless you feel wine-in-the-bath indulgent.

Ladies of Pleasure

 

1/11 LADIES OF PLEASURE

 

In life I aspire to nothing as highly as enjoying whimsical afternoons having tea, old fashioned perhaps but I in a past life I was a Lady who lunched. All whimsy is lost the moment you start planning, for there is nothing more exhausting than working to a schedule. Being productively-lazy I managed to reduce high tea to a 15 minute version that delivers the same what-is-a-weekend feeling as a posh nosh affair.

There is a simple trick that never fails me. The rule of 531. Sounding almost illuminati, this recipe produces scones in no time, no effort and no preparation. Keep it secret, keep it safe.

Ingredients (all approximate) - 5/3/1

500g Self-raising Flour (5)
300ml Milk (3)
100g Butter (1)
Salt


What I did - Rule of 531

Begin by rubbing the flour (500g - 5) and butter (100g - 1) together with your fingers in a large bowl. Flutter your fingers until all the butter has broken down into fatty flour rubble. Add a good pinch of salt and any additions you fancy - for me raisins are life. Then pour the milk (300ml - 3) over and use a few fingers to quickly stir everything together. 

With the mix cohering but loose, tip onto a lightly floured surface and knead for a few seconds until it you have a workable dough. It's important to not over knead at all, as there is little rising agent in the mix and more than a few firm thrusts will knock the rise out. Stop when it becomes too solid, should feel a little unstable.

Roll out to about an inch thick and cut out your scones with whatever circle cutter you have. Brush tops with some milk and bake for 12 minutes until you see perfection. Vigorously whip cream into submission and dollop with blood red jam. Swallow.

JG