Apparently these are traditional – can’t say I’d ever heard of them. I made them to take round a friend’s house for tea and they certainly didn’t last like. Like a scone, but more like bread.
Stir the dry ingredients together and add the milk and butter. Bring it together and then knead for about ten minutes into a smooth, elastic dough. Cover and leave for an hour or so until doubled in size.
Punch the dough down and cut into 12 pieces. Roll into balls and place on a greased baking tray. Preheat the oven to 200°C and leave the balls to prove for 20 mins.
Bake for 10 – 15 minutes until risen and golden. Allow to cool, dust with icing sugar, slice and stuff with jam and cream.
It’s that time of year when squashes are abundant. When the glory days of pumpkins on 31st October are over there’s still the butternut squashes, acorn, onion, gem, spaghetti… I’ve probably had squash three times in the past week, different every time. Whether it’s blitzed for a pasta sauce, roasted with sausages or thinly sliced and fried, I am a fan.
But I’d never made a puree. Ever popular with the Mastercheferati, I thought it was worth a go. I was very pleased with the result, a super-smooth and sweet puree that worked well with the spicy potato wedges and barbecue ribs. If only there had been more of it on the plate…
What I wasn’t so pleased about was the process. I’ve recently had some kitchendisasters, and here’s another one for the collection. I poured the freshly-cooked squash into my Kenwood Prospero blender and whizzed it up until smooth. As I tried to take the jug off the mixer the bottom fell off, pouring hot liquid squash everywhere. Over the mixer, over the counter, over my feet… a real disaster. I like my mixer very much and I get a whole lot of use out of it, but the attachments have proven less than stable over the years. I’m not convinced I’ll replace like-for-like when the time comes.
Butternut squash puree (serves 4):
½ a butternut squash, deseeded, diced and peeled
A pinch of ground cumin
50ml chicken stock
25ml double cream
Add the squash to a lidded pan with a knob of butter over a medium heat. Add the cumin with salt and pepper and cook for 10 mins stirring often.
Add the stock and cook for a further 10 mins. Add the cream for the last minute and pour into a blender. Whizz up to a fine puree, adding a dash of boiling water from the kettle if necessary. Check for seasoning and keep warm in the pan until needed.
Jamie’s 30 Minute Meals was a literary behemoth, tearing up the records for fastest selling non-fiction book, and causing many snooks to be cocked in its direction. But for people willing to give it a proper chance, approach it with an open mind and “get in the 30 minute frame of mind” it was a way to push what you can achieve in a small amount of time. Aim higher! I was certainly taken it with it, and gave me some great ideas how to make the best use of your time. Take the food processor: previously left for weekend projects, I now employ it 3 or 4 times a week to chop, grate or slice things in a flash.
cheeky chappie
What’s that coming over the hill, is it a monster, is it a monsterrrr? No, it’s another Jamie book, poised to take over the world. And this time it’s Jamie’s 15-Minute Meals. Yes, half the time. And the knives are already out in a pointless linkbait exercise. But I was approaching it with energy and excitement.
Flicking through, much like 30 Minute Meals there’s a wide variety of cuisines that should satisfy your mood. There’s an obsession with serving everything on wooden boards which I really like but isn’t practical for most dinners. Towards the end of the book there’s also a weird section that doesn’t really belong, talking about muesli and other breakfast odds and ends. Granola aside there’s definitely loads I will be trying over the coming months. I picked out a handful to try straight away and started with this golden chicken recipe.
I hit a snag immediately. Jamie juggles a frying pan, a saucepan and a baking tray on the hob simultaneously. I have a regular 4-burner hob, and this just won’t fit. Maybe all the recipe testing was done on a 5-burner but this was automatically going to put my time back as I couldn’t multi-task as effectively.
And this leads me on to another issue: there are no timings given for anything. It’s just “do this, then this, by this time the first thing will be ready.” But if for whatever reason you can’t stick to the timeline you don’t have a way of knowing how long things should take. If you are a confident cook this isn’t a problem but I can see it being a real boundary for a lot of people.
These issues aside, the dinner was very good, although it took me 28 minutes. Best of all was capturing a really good potato gratin in 15 minutes, that really is impressive. So do try out the 15 minute recipes – but do read it all carefully before starting. And don’t get hung up on the time and focus instead on creating great food quicker than you would expect. That’s the key.
Golden chicken with potato gratin and greens (serves 4):
800g potatoes
3 onions
1 chicken stock cube
½ teaspoon dried sage (Jamie demanded fresh but I couldn’t get any)
100ml single cream
30g Parmesan
4 chicken breasts
Fresh rosemary
2 rashers smoked bacon
1 large leek
200g baby spinach
200g frozen peas
Get a large saucepan filled with boiling, salted water over a high heat. Finely slice the potatoes and tip them in. Get a large roasting tray over a hob with a little oil in, and after passing the peeled onions through the food processor throw them in the pan. Crumble in the stock cube and sage, and stir often.
Spread out a large sheet of greaseproof and lay the chicken on. Scatter over some salt, pepper, sage and rosemary. Fold the paper over and using a rolling pin bash to about 1.5cm thick. Get a frying pan over a medium heat and fry the chicken in a little oil. Flip as they turn golden in colour.
Warm another pan and add a dash of oil. Wash and finely slice the leek, and then add to the pan. Get the grill on high and drain the potatoes. Tip them into the pan with the onions, spread into a single layer and pour over the cream. Grate over the parmesan and bung under the grill until the edges are catching golden brown. Slice the bacon and add to the chicken pan.
Add the spinach and the peas to the leek’s pan, add some seasoning and toss well. Cover and leave until the spinach has wilted, and then serve the chicken with the greens and potato fresh from the grill.
“Russian tea room”. I’m not sure about you but that phrase conjures no images whatsoever in my mind. When Helen mentioned that she’d scored us a table at Knightsbridge’s Mari Vanna, I had no idea what to expect.
Skirting around Hyde Park I missed it a couple of times. The decor confused me: from the outside I thought it was a florist, and on the inside your Nan’s house. There is a frightening amount of knick-knacks, gewgaws and tat littering every surface. Photos adorn the walls (which we were informed are all staff member family snaps), preserves are rammed into a cupboard, the day’s pastries line the counters.
Bamboozled by choice, we kinda throw a dart into the menu and went for a couple of random platters: the “men’s tea”; and the more classic Russian high tea, whatever that might be. It was a great time to be in there: packed with Olympic tourists, the variety of dialects buzzing back and forth afforded us a great deal of people-watching. After spending a few minutes supping beer and Georgian tea, chatting about the fictional “Mari Vanna” with our host, and admiring the dozen or so doorbells out front, our food arrives.
The platter in front of me is various kinds of salamis, smoked cheese and black olives. The salamis were perfectly pleasant but nothing surprising, Helen found them too strong. The smoked cheese again was perfectly good but nothing to set the pulse racing. That said, I am sucker for almost anything served on a wooden board. The tuft of dill was welcome, and the fragrance was obvious in much of the food that came past our table.
The high tea however was much more interesting: your typical Savoy-style tower of silver dotted with pretty things. There were caviar-topped blinis, for which I was de-virginised of caviar, pirogis that put me in mind of soft and spiced meat samosas, slices of delicate white fish and beetroot alternating with cream cheese…
But the desserts are where it was at: the set milk pudding had Helen and I debating for quite a while how the texture was achieved (whipped egg white folded through milk and set in a bain marie, we guesstimated), although a rather average chocolate cake was ignored. However by a million miles the star of the show was a sweet and caramel-laced honey cake. Goodness how we cooed and ooed and aahed over it’s dozen layers of squidgy sponge and whisper-light cream. It is a staple of Russian houses come Christmas time, and it’s not hard to see why. It was nothing short of brilliant, and I resolved to have at it myself.
I managed to find a decent sounding recipe here, which I’ve bashed about a bit for my own purposes. And the resultant cake, while not the gossamer-fine thing of beauty from Mari Vanna, was still a homely and squidgy teatime treat. I’d aim to get that dough baked thinner next time, and try to really slice it as thin as I can for maximum moistness. I had a really pleasant time at Mari Vanna – particularly this cake – but watch those prices, as Jay Rayner observed.
Russian honey cake (makes a cake about 20cm x 10cm):
For the dough:
3 large eggs
A big pinch of vanilla salt
220g caster sugar
70g butter
60g honey
2 teaspoons bicarbonate of soda
550g flour
For the cream:
700ml double cream
300ml creme fraiche
180g caster sugar
A generous tablespoon of honey
To finish:
A Crunchie bar (optional)
Preheat the oven to 170°C. Line a large baking tray with greaseproof paper, then give that a little extra grease. Melt together the butter and honey until fluid and then turn off the heat.
Whisk together the eggs, salt and sugar until pale and fluffy. Gradually whisk in the honey butter a trickle at a time, and then sift in the bicarb and flour. Stir until combined to a dough – this will be quite firm, more like a biscuit dough than a cake batter. Using wet hands press this mixture in to your baking tray, as thin as you can. Bake for around 8 – 10 mins, until the it is golden on top and a skewer inserted comes out clean. Peel off the paper and leave to cool.
While it cools make the cream. Whip the cream and sugar until soft but still a touch runny, then incorporate the creme fraiche and keep beating until it just holds its shape. When it’s ready loosely ripple through the honey.
When cool, slice the cake into long thirds. Then proceed to cut in half horizontally, by placing your hand on top and slicing across with your sharpest bread knife. You want a thickness of about 5mm. Save the offcuts for later.
Alternately sandwich cake and cream to make a giddy tower. Be generous with the cream as it is going to get absorbed by the sponge. Smooth some more cream over the top and sides of the cake and leave to set in the fridge for about 12 hours.
Before serving, whizz up the cake offcuts with a Crunchie bar in a food processor and sprinkle over the top. If you have some spare cream, serving that on the side wouldn’t go amiss :-).
