Curry And A Hurry

Alright, so I may be a bit short on photos today, but this was such a nice (and healthy!) meal I thought I'd whack it up here anyway. I had an English exam this afternoon, so in theory that should mean I have some time tonight, but in fact I have homework and ironing to do anyway (and it's Torchwood at nine!). So rather than wax poetic... have a curry.

'Have a curry' sounds like it should be a saying, or a catchphrase or something. It isn't.

At least, I don't think so. I think the English exam made my brain melt.

Egg & Lentil Curry
Adapted from The Detox Health Plan Cookbook by Maggie Pannell

Serves 4. Vegetarian.
202 cals per serving (not including rice)
Takes about 35 mins

75g green lentils (you could use proper lentils if you wanted to simmer them for 15mins with the stock beforehand, but I used ones from a tin. Huzzah)
750ml hot vegetable stock
4 eggs
2 tbsp vegetable oil
1 onion, chopped
2 fresh green chillies, chopped
2 garlic cloves, crushed
1in piece of fresh root ginger, peeled & chopped
2 tbsp curry paste
400g can chopped tomatoes
1/2 tsp sugar
1/2 tsp garam masala

Serve with about 200gish of basmati rice, and mango chutney if you like (I recommend the mango chutney, seriously)

1. Put the eggs in a pan and cover with tepid water. Slowly bring the water to the boil, then reduce the heat and simmer for 7-8 mins. Get to your chopping and whatnot here (onions, chillies, garlic etc).

2. Remove the eggs from the pan of boiling water with a slotted spoon and place them in a bowl of cold water to cool. When they're cool enough to handle, peel the eggs and cut them in half lengthways.

3. Heat the oil in a large frying pan and add the onions, chillies, garlic and ginger. Fry the mixture for 5-6 mins, stirring frequently. Stir in the curry paste and fry for another 2 mins, stirring constantly. Add the chopped tomatoes and sugar and stir in 175ml water.

4. Simmer for about 5 mins until the sauce thickens, stirring occasionally. Add the boiled eggs, drained lentils and garam masala. Cover and simmer gently for 5 mins, then serve with basmati rice.

More Tea, Vicar?

Sometimes, just the name of something is enough to persuade me to make them. This is particularly the case in older cookbooks, where you don't have pictures to talk you into it; if I come across something called English Monkey, I'm writing it down for later. These biscuits are from my Gran's old, handwritten recipe books - Parson's Pleasure.

I'm fighting back that old urge for innuendo, here.

I only found out what the name was about when I took them out of the oven; my mum came into the room and got all excited (yeah, we have that in common), asking, 'is this your gran's recipe for Parson's Pleasure?'. When I nodded, she settled down on the end of the kitchen table (we have that in common, too) to tell me where the name had come from. Basically, she told me, my Gran had come across these biscuits at a Church Fete or something - yes, this is back in the good old days when we British did that sort of thing more often. I'm adding 'more often' as a disclaimer, as I actually live in the sort of village that does hold Church Fetes - when a friend of hers had made them. Everyone was sipping their tea, discussing their knitting and the like (I'm using creative license here) and sampling each other's baking, but the vicar, Mr Wooldridge, was in my mother's words, 'a greedy man', and upon trying these biscuits, had to have another. And another. And another.

I realise I'm retelling some mild gossip from about fifty years ago, here.

Anyway, my mum said, by this point all the old ladies were getting 'all twittery', and elbowing each other, muttering. And so when my Gran got the recipe from her friend, she rechristened the biscuits 'Parson's Pleasure', because she was all cool like that, and had a knack with alliteration and wicked irony. And sure enough, when I looked back at the handwritten recipe, she had written 'Mr Wooldridge!' in brackets at the side of the name.

I'd have called them something like 'ginger crack!biscuits', but this is probably due to the generation gap. Or whatever.

Parson's Pleasure
Recipe from my Gran ^__^
Makes about 16.

150g/ 5oz self-raising flour
120g/ 4oz butter
90g/ 30z caster sugar

A little bag of crystalised ginger
Ground ginger & caster sugar in roll dough in.

1. Mix together the flour, butter and sugar into a dough. Roll into balls with damp hands, and dip them into the mixture of ground ginger & extra sugar (sorry I can't give a proper quantity- just sort of 'flour' your surface with it and roll the balls across.

2. Press the balls onto a greased baking tray, squashing them down a little (they do spread though, so don't flatten them out or anything; I think they look nice small and fat). Put a small piece of crystalised ginger on top of each and cook....

...ah. This is where I introduce you to my Gran's method of recipe writing. She says, 'in a moderate oven', with casual disregard for temperature or timing. I put them at about 190C for roughly ten minutes. Keep an eye on them, cause I take no responsibility for something going wrong as a result of my Gran's scorn for specifics.


Thinking of inviting the vicar round for afternoon tea? Put these out, and if he's anything like Mr. Wooldridge, you're going straight to heaven.

It's An Illuuusion!

I get very excited by when food looks like something else (I'm aware I come across as very excitable on this blog. I ... am). Whether it's shaped birthday cakes - that's a whole other post, which I'm sure will come up at one point - or those little cupcakes baked in ice cream cones (you know, the sort that people look at and wail 'BUT WHICH ONE IS IT??')... it's like playing edible mind games. And the best mind games are the sort you can eat.

This, for example. It may look like canneloni.

But AHA! Look close! That's not pasta! It's not even chicken skin, though the further one looks a bit like it o__O. Yeah, look at the one nearer the camera. Rather than use canneloni tubes, this recipe makes little omelette rolls, and fills them with spinach and soft cheese. Easy, but very exciting if you have nothing else to do at the weekend.

I've been revising for a Psychology A-Level, okay? (Yes, it went fine, thankyou). I've not had anything any more exciting to do at the weekend.

I would serve this with a nice salad, but we had nothing vaguely green in our house. Sad. So I improvised a tomato salad instead, if by 'making a tomato salad' you mean 'cutting up a tomato'. And I do.

Omelette Cannelloni with Spinach Filling

From Vegetarian Supercook by Rose Elliot

Serves 4, 340 calories per serving

150g washed spinach

125g low-fat soft cream cheese

8 tbsp parmesan cheese (okay, I heard a rumour parmesan wasn't vegetarian. Can anyone clear that up? If it's the case, use vegetarian parmesan, which I'm certain exists).

grated nutmeg

4 eggs

2 tbsp water

1 tbsp olive oil

1. Put the spinach with just the water clinging to the leaves into a GIANT saucepan, cover and cook for 6-7 minutes or until tender. Drain well, and don't burn your finger in the process.

2. Add the cream cheese and 4 tbsp of the parmesan to the spinach. Mix well and season with salt, pepper and grated nutmeg. Set aside.

3. Whisk the eggs with the water and salt/pepper to taste. Heat a little olive oil in a frying pan, then pour in about 2tbsp of the egg to make a small omelette. I considered the first one a practice, haha. Cook for a few seconds, until it is set, then lift out onto a plate. Continue in this way until you have made about 8 small omelettes, piling them up on top of each other.

4. Spoon a little of the spinach mixture onto the edge of one of the omelettes, roll it up and place in a shallow dish. Fill the others in the same way, until all the spinach mixture is used up, and place them snugly side by side in the dish. Sprinkle with the rest of the parmesan and baked at 190C for about 20 - 25 mins, until bubbling and golden brown on top.

Not as high labour as it sounds, I promise, and worth it. Besides, you'll find you're surprisingly willing to do pretty much anything if the alternative is revising Bandura's work on Social Learning Theory.

Blondies - 1. Indy - 0

I don't have a good track record with brownies, that's important to know. If they cook round the edges they don't cook in the middle, and I end up leaving them in the oven an hour longer than they say. Or else I leave them in the fridge, hoping they'll set, and end up with a pan full of goo. I've stuck them in the freezer overnight before now, and still ended up with a pan full of goo. I've tried recipe after recipe, I've changed recipe after recipe, I've blamed every cooking utensil I own, I've shut my own head in the oven in despair... but no kebab. Or even brownie.

The last time this happened, I was reduced to eating the semi-cooked brownie chocolate mixture straight out of the pan to make myself feel better.



Yes, I did eat an entire tray of brownie goo.
Yes, I was then copiously sick in the toilet and had to lie in a dark room for the rest of the afternoon.
Don't follow my example.




The point is, when I came across this recipe on Feed Me! I'm Hungry, the thought struck me that blondies could succeed where brownies failed.

Look at the blondie on that post. Then look at my blondie.

It turns out I have no more talent with white chocolate than I do with regular chocolate X__X.

I'm recommending the recipe anyway, because the ones on Feed Me! I'm Hungry look SO GOOD, and my 'blondies' did at least taste fantastic. The problem was, as always, the outside overcooking, and the inside NOT COOKING AT ALL. EVER. PERIOD. I might try it again though, perhaps splitting the mixture between two smaller pans in the hope it'll cook more evenly, or maybe covering it with foil at about the forty minute mark to prevent the outsides burning.

Anyone got any ideas why my brownies/ blondies ALWAYS ALWAYS fail? I've hit a wall. It's a gorgeous, chocolatey, fruity, nutty, gooey wall, but all the same. I've been outwitted by a tray of chocolate gunk.

This does nothing for my self-esteem. I'm consoling myself with the fact that if this all becomes too much, at least I can eat my challenger. Bite me.

Completely Unprepared For 2008...

Alright, so as you might guess from the distinctly low-labour-intensive photographs, I'm not exactly starting 2008 on a great note, food-blogging wise. But as we're over a week in now, and I'm officially back at school and everything (D=) I thought I'd throw myself at your feet here, completely unprepared, just to wish everyone a Happy New Year and hope that 2008 is going as planned, so far.

Obviously it isn't going as planned for me, seeing as I haven't planned anything. At all. Ever. It's not that I'm not eating anything at the moment (or at least, so my thighs tell me), it's just that -in the after-Christmas slump - my family is mostly eating up the freezer at the moment (not literally, although I hear they're high in fibre). So no one's been doing a lot of cooking or baking round here.

But things are set to change! And since one of my New Year's Resolutions is to be a more regular blogger (okay, I probably shouldn't have told anyone that; now I have no excuse for forgetting), a real recipe will be coming soon. Probably in place of Psychology revision, for me. Hm.

PS: The photos? Yeah, I know they're only jelly beans, but I was pretty happy over them. By way of explanation, I was practising photography with reference to this great tutorial at Kitchen Wench. Thankyou Ellie!

Something Special

When I was little, a year seemed like the longest time in the world. Birthdays and Christmas were particularly elusive, but even something like 'see you in a month' was, to me, the equivalent of, 'NEVER SEE YOU AGAIN, MOO HAR HAR'.

This year seems to have gone bizarrely fast, so I can only conclude that, as a seventeen year old, I'm officially Getting Old.

This was one of the puddings we had for Christmas last week, but it seemed right for a New Year post as there's something very fresh and -- well, Nigella Lawson describes it as 'sing[ing] with springtime and Easter hopefulness'. Alright, so it isn't Easter, but I think the same description applies (...it DOES). While my version is a little more ramshackle (it adds charm!) than Nigella's, my coming year will probably be similar, haha.

Lemon Meringue Cake

From Feast by Nigella Lawson

Makes 1 8-inch cake.

125g butter
4 eggs
300g caster sugar
100g plain flour
24g cornflour
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp bicarb of soda
zest of 1 lemon
4 tsp lemon juice
2 tsp milk
1/2 tsp cream of tartar
150ml double or whipping cream
150g lemon curd

1. Preheat oven to 190C (my mother insisted I put it at the top of the Roasting Oven in the Aga, which is why it's burnt on top --ooh, I'm so resentful). Line two 8inch cake tins.

2. Mix the egg yolks, 100g of the sugar, the butter, flour, cornflour, baking powder, bicarb and lemon zest together (in a Kitchen Aid, is the unspoken instruction after this) until pale. Add the lemon juice and milk and mix again. Divide the mixture between the two tins - there isn't a lot of it. Spread & smooth down with a spatula.

3. Whisk the egg whites and tartar until peaks form then slowly whisk in the rest of the sugar. Divide these between the two tins, spreading over the cake batter. Smooth one flat with a spatula, and use the back of a spoon to peak the other. Sprinkle 1 tsp sugar over the peaks and put in the oven for about 20mins.

4. With a skewer, pierce the flat-topped cake to check it's cooked through; no sponge mixture should stick to the skewer. Let both cakes cool in the pan on a wire rack.

5. Nigella says calmly at this point, 'unmold the flat topped one onto a cake stand or plate, meringue side down'. Ignore her; unmolding these buggers is easier said than done without crushing all the meringue - not a problem for the flat one, but definitely for the peaked one. This involved three of us, all with fish slices, to get the cakes unmolded. I hope you have help and fish slices to hand.

6. Whisk the cream until thick but not stiff and set asidde. Spread the flat sponge surface of the first cake with the lemon curd and then spatula over the cream and top with the remaining cake, meringue uppermost.


Ramshackle appearance aside, this cake is beautiful and was a massive hit at Christmas (although I admit I dusted it with icing sugar rather than parade the burnt bits, so I can't exactly say there's a story with a moral or anything coming up). And I think I definitely prefer it to lemon meringue pie, just because it's a bit different, and there's something special about it.

If I was in a cheesy mood, I'd finish with, 'I hope 2008 also has something special in store for you', but that's just a bit vile.

...On the other hand, I'm getting ready to go out for a New Years party, and time is of the essence. I hope 2008 is special for you, all over the place. XD

Indy.x

Merry Christmas Everyone!

Firstly - I hope everyone had a great Christmas yesterday!!

We always have the whole extended family over, and since I get on far better with my extended family than my immediate one, a good time was pretty much had by all. I should mention that I got a couple of stunning vegetarian recipe books, so look out for those in the near future ^__^

My mum is famous for her Christmas dinner, so rather than encroach on her noble territory I was head of puddings this year. The temptation to list everything is enormous, but since I begin to feel queasy again if I think about food too much now I'm going to cut straight to... this:


Probably the aesthetic highlight of the meal, although I can't say I'm too into chocolate cake-y things (I prefer both pure chocolate and pure cake; I don't go in for adulterating a good thing XD). Nonetheless, it got rave reviews from everyone who had some, so I recommend it - you can still make it for New Year's Eve!


Since it's unlikely I'll eat anything but leftovers for the next week (or eat anything at all, the way I feel now - about twelve times bigger than usual, for the record), I can guarrantee you'll be seeing more of the Christmas desserts soon XD

Chocolate Christmas Pudding

Good Food Magazine, January 2008 edition

Prep: 40 mins + chilling. Serves 8 (rubbish, it serves twice that, especially at Christmas when everyone's full anyway)

For the sponge:

4 eggs

100g caster sugar
100g self-raising flour
50g cocoa
85g butter, melted
50ml espresso with 2 tbsp Tia Maria (none of my family like coffee so I left this out, but added a capful or so of dark rum)

For the mousse:
3 eggs, separated
50g caster sugar
175g dark chocolate
200ml double cream

For the ganache:
142ml pot double cream
100g dark chocolate
1 tbsp golden syrup
1 tbsp Tia Maria + 1tbsp espresso (I added rum again instead)

+ some dark & white chocolate to decorate

1. Oven to 200C. Line a 22 x 31cm swiss roll tin with baking paper (we used a tin double this size and I'd recommend it; it makes the sponge thinner but gives you a lot more to work with when it comes to fitting it to the bowl). Tip a tbsp of spare cocoa powder over the tin and turn it to coat it evenly, tapping out the excess.

2. For the sponge, beat the eggs and sugar until thick enough to hold a trail. Fold in flour and cocoa powder, then swirl in the butter and fold through. Tip into the tin, bake for 10mins until just firm, then cool under a clean tea towel. Or perhaps don't.

3. For the mousse, beat the egg yolks and sugar until thick and pale. Melt the chocolate and loosely whip the cream until it just holds its shape. Quickly beat half the cream and all of the chocolate into the egg mix, then gently fold in te rest of the cream. Whisk the egg whites until softly peaked, then fold in.

4. Grease a 1.4 litre/ 2.5 pint basin or bowl with a little oil. Line with cling film, leaving some overhang. Then to build the pudding, cut a circle of sponge to fit the bottom of the basin (we used a large cookie cutter) and fit it in. Then cut about 7 x 10cm sloping rectangles (trapeziums? Man, I always sucked at maths) from the sponge and fit them tightly around the bowl. Sprinkle with the rum (or coffee/Tia Maria).

5. Fill the bowl halfway with mousse and use what's left of the sponge to top the mousse with a snug-fitting circle of cake. Spoon in the rest of the mousse then cover with the overhanging cling film. Chill for at least 4 hrs till firm (we left it overnight) then turn onto a plate.


6. For the topping, heat all the ingredients gently in a bowl over a pan of simmering water until the chocolate melts. Leave to cool, stirring occasionally, until thick and glossy (MAKE SURE IT'S THICK ENOUGH TO SPREAD PROPERLY! The worst thing would be to be too quick over it and have it run everywhere. For probably the first time in my life I actually had some patience, and left it until it was almost set). Spread over the turned out pudding in lovely swirls.

Good Food's helpfulness runs short on decorating, but you can make chocolate curls using a potato peeler against the long side of some white or dark chocolate. What looks best, however, is to make caraque (the long ones) - to do this, I melted a few squares of chocolate (white looks best, but I did a bit of both) in a bowl and then spread it over an acrylic chopping board and left it in the fridge until it had set. Then use a sharp knife and pull it over the set chocolate towards you slowly, and you should get long chocolate curls coming off. This is what the Parragon book 'Chocolate' tells me, anyway; I had trouble with it, which is why my caraque are pretty crap.

Meh.

...Aaah, come on, it looks like a giant truffle! It's like chocolate, but in GIANT form!


I can't be the only person who gets excited over this sort of thing.