stuffed focaccia with cheese & rocket

I admit it. I have blogger's block. It's a little bit like writer's block, except hungrier.

Here I am, complete with photos the most delicious baked focaccia, stuffed with three varieties of cheese, sage and fresh rocket - and I'm at a total loss for anything to say about it. I mean, besides, 'it's delicious,' and, 'it's stuffed with three varieties of cheese, sage and fresh rocket'. I recognise this is rather a cop-out.

I think it's the pressure. You see, this focaccia is the most beautiful thing on earth (what? I'm not in a relationship, okay). Somehow it seems crucially important to me that you recognise the miracle of layered, homemade bread, and the pressure is so much that words have failed me.

You're just going to have to make it, I'm afraid.

Now, don't be hatin', just because it's bread. I know, I know, bread. You have to pound it around, and let it rise, and keep an eye on it, and blah blah blah yeast, ugh. But trust me. Firstly, this is focaccia, which is the easiest bread around; you just have to steamroller it flat and leave it to it (Okay, 'steamroller' is not a recognised culinary term in this context, but you get the gist). And plus, it has a fancy name. We all like fancy names. Sounds better than 'sandwich bread', doesn't it?

Secondly, it honestly doesn't take that long - it's not one of your sixteen-hour shebangs - as I know for a fact, since I made this in a massive hurry (and simultaneously making a lemon & raspberry layer cake, which you've not seen as although the photos were great, I wasn't happy with the taste. Hate it when that happens) before a picnic; the half-hour rising times worked out pretty conveniently, giving me time to do such important things as brush my hair and whip up a quick swiss meringue buttercream.

Incidentally, swiss meringue buttercream? Yes it looks incredibly smooth and professional, but it tastes like bath foam. Ugh.

And thirdly? Homemade bread more than makes up for a foamy cake (alright, no one else had a problem with the cake. I just really don't like SMB. I don't know what posessed me. This is where cake vanity gets you, grasshopper). Especially eaten still-warm (I said I was in a hurry) with the cheese slightly oozy, this went down a storm. So - eating it? No problem whatsoever. But writing about it?

'I don't have a damn thing to say about cheese & rocket focaccia,' I moaned on Twitter.

'I have several things to say about cheese & rocket focaccia,' my friend Sophie messaged back promptly (procrastinating uni work, I suspect), '1) OM 2) NOM 3) NOM 4) it's better than Morte d'Arthur'.

As a lit student, I feel I should disagree with the final point, but hell, cheese & rocket focaccia kicks the arse of Le Morte d'Arthur.

Cheese & Rocket Focaccia
adapted from 'Happy Days with the Naked Chef', by Jamie Oliver.

As the photos demonstrate, this is ideal picnic fare; how can the humble cheese sandwich possibly compete with an enormous golden sheet of still-warm bread, stuffed with a thick and melty layer of parmesan, cheddar and cheshire cheeses, drizzled with olive oil and scented with fresh sage?

Oh hey, turns out I have things to say about this focaccia after all.

By all means use cheese of your choice - Jamie used Gorgonzola but since this was for a crowd I thought I'd avoid blue cheeses, which are a matter of taste, and went for Cheshire since it has a similar texture (and it's my favourite). But mozzarella would be nice if you wanted that stringy, pizza-cheese effect, for example.

For bread:
1kg (just over 2lb) strong bread flour
625ml (just over 1 pint) tepid water
30g (1oz) fresh yeast or 3 x 7g sachets dried yeast
2 tbsp sugar
2 tbsp salt
extra flour for dusting

1. Pile the flour onto a clean surface and make a large well in the centre. Pour half your water into the well, then add yeast, sugar and salt and stir with a fork.

2. Slowly but confidently, bring in the flour from the inside of the well (without breaking the walls, or else water will go everywhere). Continue until you get a stodgy, porridgey consistency, then add the remaining water. Mix until stodgy again, then you can be more aggressive, bringing in all the flour and making it less sticky. Flour your hands and pat and push the dough together with remaiing flour.

3. Knead the dough (pushing, folding, slapping, rolling, and generally being abusive) for 4-5 minutes until silky and elastic.

4. Flour the top of your dough. Put it in a bowl, cover with clingfilm (plastic wrap, Americans) and allow to prove for around half an hour until doubled in size (ideally in a warm, moist, draught-free place).

For the filling:
extra virgin olive oil
170g (6oz) parmesan cheese, grated
200g (7oz) cheddar (or other good melting cheese), grated
140g (5oz) cheshire (or cheese of your choice) grated
2 large handfuls of rocket (argula)
salt & freshly ground black pepper
fresh sage (or thyme) leaves

5. Once the dough has doubled in size, knock the air out for 30 secs by bashing and squashing it. Roll into a large rectangle around 1 cm/ 1/2" thick. Drape half of it onto a medium-large floured baking sheet, with half hanging over the side. On the half that is on the tray, drizzle about 3 good lugs of extra virgin olive oil, rub it into the dough, then add all your cheeses, rocket and some seasoning. Using your fingers, push it all into the dough.

6. Fold the overhanging dough back on to the dough on the tray, and then push around the edges so that you seal them together, tucking it under a little so it fits nicely onto the tray. Rub the top with a little olive oil and rip over some fresh sage.

7. Heat your oven to 180C while you leave the dough to prove a second time for half an hour, and when doubled in size, bake for around 25 mins until lightly golden and cooked. Allow to sit for around 25 mins before eating, best slightly warm.

asparagus & potato tart

I'm not a big watcher of food programmes on TV. I'm not sure why this is - I suppose a contributing factor is having Not Had A Telly for the past year at uni, but I was baking last night when Nigella Express came on BBC2, and I definitely wasn't a fan ... if by 'not a fan' you mean 'kind of wanted to give her a good shake', which I do. It was a bit of a crushing blow, considering I love all of her recipes and the way she writes - maybe I just don't like seeing people for real? Maybe it's a little too close to actual human contact for comfort? Maybe I should be locked up; but let's move on.

I was as surprised as anyone to find myself really enjoying Jamie At Home, then - you know; Jamie Oliver grows courgettes and potatoes and things, pours copious amounts of olive oil over everything, gets nice and grubby, and then serves an amazingly fresh, simple dish at the end of it. I'm good at maybe two of those things (read: consuming olive oil and getting dirty fingernails) so I feel a bit of an affinity for him.

However, Jamie At Home was something I could only watch on internet catch-up while I was at uni, which meant more often than not I'd be watching Jamie grilling seafood and tossing it with chopped red chilli and lemon juice on a bed of courgette ribbons, while I'd be sat at my desk eating cuppasoup, or - at best - 'insert food item here' on toast. (Under such depressing circumstances, you can see why I wasn't blogging.)

To come home and be allowed all the chopped red chilli and lemon juice I could get my hands on was a revelation (specifically; not to eat red chilli and lemon juice on their own), but it was this asparagus & potato tart that was the biggest success with my family; something I'd seen Jamie make on the programme weeks before that had made me sigh dramatically -'WILL I EVER SEE ASPARAGUS AGAIN?', type thing.

The fun irony of this story is that, since I made this, asparagus season has kind of ended.

I could say I'm doing this to you because I care, but that would be a lie. I'm doing this to you because I want you to feel my pain.

And also because this tart is delicious.

And also because I'm well brought up and am going to give you other options to use this base for. As long as you tell my mum what a nice girl I am.

Asparagus & Potato Tart

Adapted from Jamie At Home

Jamie's version of this used filo pastry and double cream, but since it's the eggs that set tarts like this, I used milk as it's what we had in. Obviously both work, but cream is richer if you're serving this for a particular occassion. I also used a fair bit less butter and cheese than he suggested; not consciously, just because I didn't feel we needed quite so much - use your own judgement.

British asparagus season is shorter than my tolerance for most TV chefs, but it's the mashed potato base of this that's so different, and almost anything could replace the aspargus. My little sister's optimistic suggestion (I don't know why I even asked) was 'SAUSAGES': I rolled my eyes, but on reflection a 'bangers & mash' tart is quite a cute idea.

500g (1lb 2oz) potatoes, peeled & cut into chunks
sea salt & freshly ground black pepper
500g asparagus spears, woody ends removed
about 400g (8oz) shortcrust pastry (or 2oog filo, Jamie's way, but he uses an extra ton of butter for this)
100g (3oz) freshly grated Lancashire cheese
100g (3 oz) freshly grated Cheddar cheese
3 large eggs
1 x 284ml pot (1 1/4c.) double cream (I used milk)
1/4 of a nutmeg
a good blob of melted butter

1. Put the potatoes in a pan of salted boiling water and cook for 15 mins. Meanwhile blanch the asparagus in a separate pan of salted boiling water for 4 mins, and drain in a colander.

2. Preheat oven to 190C (375F) and prepare an ovenproof dish (Jamie helpfully says, 'I've used many different shapes and sizes' - men. I think a 9x13" halfroaster would be the perfect size; I made one 8x11" tart and one individual one with this quantity). Roll out shortcrust pastry into a large rectangle on a floured surface and line your tart dish with it.

-- Have you ever used the trick of rolling out pastry between floured sheets of clingfilm (plastic wrap)? I would explain further, but that's basically all there is to it. I did it for the first time making this tart, and it's changed my life, to exaggerate but a little. Yet I digress --

Prick the bottom of your pastry case a few times with a fork, and if your life is empty and you don't have an Aga, cover it with a layer of baking parchment and parbake it for five minutes or so.

3. When the potatoes are done, mash them with the cheeses. In a separate bowl, mix together the eggs and cream/milk and stir into the cheesy mashed potato. Grate in the nutmeg, season well with pepper (seasoning is key in this tart) and mixed together. Spread the mash over the pastry, then take the blanched asparagus and line it up across the filling, making sure you cover it all. Brush all over with the melted butter and put in the oven for about 20 mins, or until golden. Allow to rest 10 mins before serving alongside some fresh salad.

fruit & veg box review + smoked salmon potato salad.

Reason to blog again # 136: Freebies.

...Who am I kidding; that's like reason two. When Abel & Cole (an organic food delivery company) emailed me and asked if I wanted a free produce box in exchange for a review here, I admit my half-arsed relaunch plans kicked up a gear, and - you know the rest. I like vegetables, okay? They keep me honest. Ish.

This particular box of vegetables was delivered by a very nice man called Rob yesterday morning, much in the manner of Father Christmas, if Father Christmas were in the habit of handing out lettuces.

Considering I hadn't been sure what to expect, I was impressed. The vegetables in particular (spring onions, several courgettes, a rather sweet little cucumber, charmingly grubby new potatoes and young carrots, two very photogenic little gem lettuces, and broad beans in their pods) were seasonal, fresh - the sort of thing you hope, rather than necessarily expect, organic food to be. If these were your vegetables for the week, you'd be pretty well off, in a hearty, 1940s-diet sort of way. They made me want to sit outside and pod broad beans into a vintage colander with a couple of small children - and I loathe small children.

The fruit - an armful of sweet pink apples, a bunch of fairtrade bananas and a little round melon (which my mum ate for breakfast this morning) - were equally in great condition and perfectly ripe, but considering it's the middle of Summer, I felt they could have branched out a bit more on this front. When I think of the fruit in season at the moment - strawberries! raspberries! peaches! - it seems a bit of a crime not to take advantage of them while they're around. Soft fruit isn't ideal for deliveries like this, but having gone to all the trouble of a sturdy box and some very well-thought-out packing, I'm sure they could have slipped a punnet of cherries or blueberries in, for example.

Yet it's hard to be critical in the face of dirty vegetables. I like Abel & Cole, and not just because they gave me free stuff (yeah, my allegiance is easy to win). I like their approach, their friendly notes slipped into the box, their ethics. I like their potatoes.

You know what I like to make with potatoes? Potato salad. I never said I was original.

My Favourite Potato Salad
Happy Love Strawberry

This salad originally used bacon, and I'm not usually a girl to leave bacon *out* of a dish, but we had smoked salmon in the freezer and the combination of smoked salmon, lemon juice and watercress is too good to ignore. I know, I know, there's a recession on. Feel free to use a packet of bacon instead - 6-8 rashers would do it.

Incidentally: this bowl? Isn't it just crying out for potato salad? Seriously, if someone asked me to design a bowl for potato salad, I would design this one. People ask me to do this sort of thing all the time.

700g/ 1lb 9oz new potatoes
200g smoked salmon
150ml sour cream
2tbsp olive oil
2 tsp lemon juice
bunch of watercress

1. Lightly scrub the potatoes, getting off any dirt, but don't peel. Unless you have very small ones, I tend to chop mine into halves or quarters. Boil for 10-15 minutes until tender.

2. Mix together the sour cream, olive oil and lemon juice and season, with plenty of black pepper. Remove any tough stalks from the watercress - I tend to rip it up a little at this point, but you can coarsely chop it if you're classy.

3. Drain the potatoes and cool under cold running water in a colander. Cut the smoked salmon into strips with kitchen scissors (if you're using bacon you can either cut it into strips or just tear it up). Toss the potatoes in the dressing and toss in the watercress and salmon. Season to taste before serving.

Abel & Cole website here.
Fruit and veg boxes here.

It's Always Tea-Time!

'I know this one! Slaying entails certain sacrifices, blah, blah,biddie blah, I'm so stuffy, give me a scone.' -- Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Back in the day (ie, April), I wrote about my friends and my ill-fated plans for a period style teaparty outdoors, but it was only last month that the weather actually stayed nice long enough for us to pull it off (it was a dismal summer, okay? Eventually we got desperate and said we'd do it outdoors unless it bucketed it down with rain, when we'd go to someone's house; on the morning, my friend Boy texted in bewilderment, 'bright but moist?! What do we do?', haha. The trials and tribulations we endured...)

The short notice meant that the British-themed blog post I'd had in the back of my mind never really came off, and I was baking scones and shortbread the night before with no time for a morning photo shoot (they're divas, those baked goods; the light has to be just so).

I had a load of yoghurt left over from... something or other... taking up precious fridge room (with one fridge between seven hungry students, you understand why I couldn't just leave it to ferment), so when I came across a scone recipe which used yoghurt rather than egg (I have a moral dilemna over eggs at the moment; free-range cost nearly £1 more, and I can't bring myself to spend it, but at the same time I can't bring myself to knowingly buy battery eggs. I'm solving this currently by just not using eggs, but I sort of recognise that this isn't much of a long-term solution) and which involved very little butter and only a tablespoon of sugar!- I don't take much convincing for these sorts of things.

And, of course, it meant that I finally got to post a scone recipe up on Happy Love Strawberry. It may not be my gran's recipe, and it may not be the one I made for our tea-party, and it may even be the first time I've made scones without a cutter, by shaping it into a square and cutting it into nine -- I don't know why I'm saying 'may' anymore. I don't have a circle cutter, it's the tragedy of my life -- but the point is, we British never say no to a scone, whatever the situation XD.

(Incidentally! I've found another Queen fan -no, new readers, I don't mean the Freddie Mercury type Queen, I mean, The Queen - here at uni; we have matching union flag cushions! It's meant to be).

Yoghurt Scones
Recipe found here
Makes 9 small scones

50g butter, chopped into cubes and softened
280g (2 c.) plain flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 Tbs baking powder
1 Tbs sugar
120ml (1/2 c.) thick yoghurt (I used lowfat) and 60-120ml (1/4c - 1/2 c.) water (start with 1/4c), mixed together

Preheat Oven to 220C or 440F

1. Sift dry ingredients onto softened butter, and mush together with your fingers until the mixture looks like fine breadcrumbs. Pour in the sugar, yoghurt mix, and quickly mix to form a soft dough. Add more water if the mixture appears dry and the dough feels tough.

2. Dust an oven tray with flour, and roll the dough out into a 20cm square. Cut into thirds horizontally and vertically so you end up with 9 scones, but DON'T separate. (I did, because I'm an idiot, but then I realised and pushed them back together again. My cunning knows no bounds).

3. Bake for about 10 minutes in center rack of your oven until tops are pale golden, then divide them up. Serve hot/warm - once cool, these taste better microwaved for 10 seconds.

These have a great texture, but like all scones, aren't very sweet, so they do need jam. Whipped or clotted cream would be perfect too, but I had cream cheese in the fridge so I ate some with that.

When I say 'ate some', I mean, 'had three for lunch', obviously. Ah, the student lifestyle. Who needs nutrition?

A Trifling Matter

You may or may not know that it's British Food fortnight at the moment, and considering I'm a fairly patriotic blogger I thought I really had to make time for this one -- I was even organised enough to fit in making this before I left home to start uni at the weekend! Don't all die of shock just yet; I've been so busy that I almost forgot to post it.

The student diet of, er, toast (largely) means I don't feel like I've particularly made the most of BFF, but fortunately the brilliant Antonia of Food, Glorious Food has been flying the (union) flag with her British Food Fortnight Challenge!

I couldn't resist an opportunity to make a 'thoroughly British dish', so to make up for rather scatty posting for a while I decided to go all out with the ingredients for this one - Blackberry Trifle!

If you're unfamiliar with them; trifles generally have four layers; sponge at the bottom, then fruit, then custard, then whipped cream. Usually, at least where I'm from, raspberries are used, but with the theme being British/local/seasonal, I thought I'd branch out a bit.

Yes. I went blackberry picking again.

In my defence, this year was less horrific than the last - there were actually blackberries out this time around, which is always a good start - and it was all going rather well until, at the furthest possible point from home, my bag starting leaking purple juice all down my jeans and I was forced to rustle something up with (un-used! I stress that they were un-used!) dog poo bags. Will the humiliation ever end?

And traumatic experiences aside, I can at least say that I used organic, local, hand-picked blackberries, right?

For the cake part, I thought I probably couldn't get much more traditional and British than by using another of my Gran's old recipes; this madeira cake comes from the handwritten recipe book she gave my mum when she went to uni, back in, I don't know, Tudor times or something. This recipe book is practically an ancient relic, as you can imagine, which is why I don't have it with me at university, and thus why I can't tell you the recipe I used. I know, I'm hopeless.

My failings aside; this is a fabulous trifle - it's one of those puddings I always forget how much I like (until I realise I'm eating serving-spoonfuls straight out of the bowl, headfirst in the fridge). You can also make it ridiculously easily by using bought cake and tinned custard, and to be honest the charm of trifle is partly in doing this (I think it's a British thing. Er, or laziness).

Blackberry Trifle

Measurements for this are all very approximate, because I didn't really use them.

About 400g madeira cake (bought or homemade)
300ml double cream
150g cream cheese
couple of drops vanilla
400g tin custard
400g blackberries
4-5 tbsp water
2 tbsp caster sugar

1. For the base, break up the madeira cake into pieces and push into the bottom of a large serving bowl (I used an old one of my grandma's; bonus British points?). Simmer the blackberries in a pan with the sugar and water for a good few minutes until you have plenty of juice; there should be enough to soak into the sponge to give it that fantastic purple colour.

2. Spoon the blackberries and juice over the sponge and allow this to cool before covering it with the tinned custard.

3. For the topping, you can either just use plain whipped cream or fold in some cream cheese or mascarpone; I saw this in a trifle recipe ages ago but can't remember whose it was. Anyway, your cream should be lightly whipped (don't overwhip it) and dolloped over the custard layer. You might want more than I've suggested; it looks great if you're generous with the cream but proportions are personal preference, and I like less cream and more sponge.

To the Queen!

The Tempter, Or The Tempted, Who Sins Most...?

I know I'm late for St. George's day, but these cupcakes are actually from yesterday - I wasn't able to post as in the evening I went with school to see Measure For Measure (our A-Level text) in the theatre - and on Shakespeare's birthday, too! (It's a bit of a British-birthday themed week; if there are any other British icons with a birthday this week you probably shouldn't tell me, or my mother will be putting me on flour rations).

Yesterday's display of patriotism reached its crux just before the performance, when my friends ran up to me wearing party hats at jaunty angles, asking me for Measure For Measure quotes (they then wrote quotes all over the hats). This is apparently how Shakespeare's birthday is celebrated in the more elite circles.


It worked out quite well actually, when I was able to reel off a load of quotes -'ever till now, when men were fond, I smiled and wondered how'- in class today.

'Wow, have you been revising?'

'...Actually, I have it written on a party hat.'

These are just vanilla cupcakes with Union Jack and St George's Flag designs in fondant icing over blue buttercream, but I liked how they turned out. The two flags were so people could decide what they were celebrating - the St George fans went for the red crosses, and the more literate picked the Union Jacks.

I didn't tell them that was how I was categorising them at the time, of course.

Vanilla cupcake recipe
Adapted from 'Cupcakes' by Elinor Klivans
Makes 12 cupcakes

180g plain flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp bicarbonate of soda
1/4 tsp salt
1 egg
1 egg yolk
200g caster sugar
120g butter
1 tsp vanilla essence
120ml sour cream

Preheat oven to 180C and line 12 muffin tin cups with paper liners.

1. Cream the butter and sugar together in a mixer on medium speed until pale and fluffy. Add the egg & yolk, stopping the mixer and scraping the sides of the bowl as needed. On low speed, mix in the vanilla and sour cream until no white streaks remain.

2. Sift (ha!) the flour, baking powder, bicarb & salt together and mix into the batter slowly until it is incorporated and the batter is smooth and pale. Bake at 180C for about 20mins, until a toothpick stuck into the centre comes out clean.

Happy Birthday, Your Majesty!

Picture the scene. The Queen walks into her drawing room early tomorrow morning (does she have a drawing room? Don't spoil the magic with particulars) and sits down, picking up her china teapot to pour herself a nice cup of earl grey. She pulls her favourite teacup towards her (she definitely has a favourite teacup. The Queen and I, we're like this), glances down - and instead of a cup of tea, she sees .... a muffin of tea?

Don't panic, Ma'am! This isn't any old commoner muffin - this is an earl grey and white chocolate muffin, especially for your birthday!

In fact, the Queen should probably panic anyway, because for me to do this I'd have to break into Buckingham Palace some time tonight, probably hotly pursued by the Royal guards, all shooting to kill - but for the Queen's (unofficial) birthday, I think it's worth it. And I think she'd appreciate it (like this, remember?), if her love for tea/cake/royalty is anything approaching mine.

So rather than a birthday cake, a muffin that could just fit in a teacup seemed perfectly fitting.

I'm taking this into school tomorrow, as my friends love the Queen almost as much as I do (almost. I think I'm a very infectious sort of person?), so we'll probably eat them with our cups of (liquid) tea in our free periods tomorrow, while cheerfully discussing how great the Queen is. Man, she is so great. I wish I was the Queen. All it needs is a birthday candle stuck in the middle of one, and things would be perfect.

Actually, I might do the candle thing. Worst case scenario is that the fire alarms go off and I miss History. Sorry, did I say worst?

I found the recipe for these on Eat Me, Delicious - my muffins look pretty different, but I think that's cause I didn't really have enough Earl Grey - I only drink proper, manly tea, so I had to flutter my eyelashes at my previously mentioned friend Alex a bit to scrounge an Earl Grey teabag off her. It seemed a bit cheeky to ask for two - not that that usually stops me - particularly as I spend a large proportion of my time mocking her for drinking flowery, girly tea. You see; the Queen's influence has me being all polite, and civilised! The woman deserves more than a muffin.

Earl Grey White Chocolate Chunk Muffins
American measurements here on Eat Me, Delicious.
Metric conversion by me.
Adapted from Baking From My Home To Yours

Makes 12 (so enough for all the corgis)

120g sugar
280g plain flour
2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp bicarbonate of soda
1/4 tsp salt
1 tbsp ground Earl Grey tea (or more)
360ml sour cream
2 large eggs
1 tsp pure vanilla extract
115g unsalted butter, melted and cooled
100g white chocolate chunks (I used 150g, because you can't have too much chocolate when it comes to royalty)

1. Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 190C. Butter or spray the 12 molds in a regular-size muffin pan or fit the molds with paper muffin cups.

2. In a large bowl, whisk together the sugar, flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and ground Earl Grey tea. In a large glass measuring cup or another bowl, whisk the sour cream, eggs, vanilla, and melted butter together until well blended. Pour the liquid ingredients over the dry ingredients and, with the whisk or a rubber spatula, gently but quickly stir to blend. Don't worry about being thorough - a few lumps are better than over mixing the batter. Stir in the white chocolate chunks. Divide the batter evenly among the muffins cups.

3. Bake for 18 to 20 minutes, or until the tops are golden and a thin knife inserted into the center of the muffins comes out clean. Transfer the pan to a rack and cool for 5 minutes before carefully removing each muffin from its mold.

Happy Unofficial Birthday to the Queen for tomorrow!

No Place Like London

I may not make cheesecake as often as I used to, but I have a definite weakness for it, and if I can get away with making one I will ^__^. This recipe is one I've had my eye on for aaages, but haven't been able to come up with an excuse to make; if it's someone's birthday, I make cake, if it's a picnic or something, we need cookies or bars, and if I'm just at home there aren't enough people around to eat it.

I find myself inventing occasions just so I can have people round to feed them. Does anyone else do this? Please tell me yes.

I had a big group of friends round on Friday night for a Disney sleepover (we get together and have a marathon of classic Disney films; Friday was our fourth XD) so I finally had a chance to give this a go.


I'll let the pictures speak for themselves on this recipe because a) I'm very proud of the pictures, b) Ellie raves about this better than I do and c) I'm extremely tired and lazy and basically can't be arsed.

I'm therefore going to do this the quick way. This description is going to be to a blog post what a haiku is to a love poem.

Please make this cheesecake;
It tastes delicious, hooray
So my friends all say.

Was it just an excuse to make a cheesecake? Yes.

Was that just an excuse to write a haiku? Perhaps.

London Cheesecake

Recipe from Feast by Nigella Lawson

For American measurements, click here.

For the base:

150g digestive biscuits

75g unsalted butter, melted or very soft

600g cream cheese

150g caster sugar

3 large eggs

3 large egg yolks

1 and a half tablespoons vanilla extract

1 and a half tablespoons lemon juice

20 cm Springform tin

extra-strength tin foil

For the topping;

145ml tub sour cream

1 tablespoon caster sugar

half teaspoon vanilla extract

1. Process the biscuits until they are like crumbs, then add the butter and pulse again. Line the bottom of the Springform tin, pressing the biscuits in with your hands or the back of a spoon. Put the tin in the fridge to set, and preheat the oven to 180ºC/gas mark 4.

2.Beat the cream cheese gently until it's smooth, then add the sugar. Beat in the eggs and egg yolks, then finally the vanilla and lemon juice. Put the kettle on. Line the outside of the chilled tin with strong foil so that it covers the bottom and sides in one large piece, and then do the same again and put it into a roasting dish. This will protect the cheesecake from the water as it is cooked in its water bath.

3.Pour the cream-cheese filling into the chilled biscuit base, and then pour hot water from the recently boiled kettle into the roasting tin around the cheesecake. It should come about halfway up; don't overfill as it will be difficult to lift up the tin. Put it into the oven and cook for 50 minutes. It should feel set, but not rigidly so: you just need to feel confident that when you pour the sour cream over, it will sit on the surface and not sink in.

4. Whisk together the sour cream, sugar and vanilla for the topping and pour over the cheesecake. Put it back in the oven for a further 10 minutes.Take the roasting tin out of the oven, then gingerly remove the Springform, unwrap it and stand it on a rack to cool.

5. When it's cooled down completely, put it in the fridge, removing it 20 minutes before eating to take the chill off. Unmould and when you cut into it, plunge a knife in hot water first.Serves 8

Rather than the sauce Ellie made for her cheescake I halved a recipe for black cherry sauce from Vegetarian Supercook by Rose Eliot:

500g cherries, pitted (I used frozen ones that didn't need pitting)
75ml water + 1-2 tbsp
1-2 tsp cornflour
2 tbsp caster sugar

1. Put the cherries into a saucepan with the water and bring to the boil. Cover & simmer gently for about 5 minutes or until the cherries are tender.

2. Mix the cornflour with the 1-2 tbsp cold water, then add to the cherries, bring to the boil and stir for a minute or two until the sauce is slightly thickened. Stir in the caster sugar and remove for the heat. Set aside to cool and serve with the cheesecake.

Ellie made this cheesecake with the base coming up the sides and I think I'll do that next time cause otherwise the base is quite thick.

Tastes good though ^__^