Reciplace

Traditional Cornish Pasties

I remember Cornish Pasties from my childhood being really, really good things.  They were one of the naughty things I was allowed to eat when we came over to England on holiday, along with scotch eggs and sausage rolls.  But since moving here, they are no longer something that tempts me. 

I think it's because of that rubbish "Cornish Pasty Shop" place that's popped up everywhere lately. One of the boys from work and I normally end up on the same train back home after a night of post-work revelry.  And despite the fact that he spent most of his childhood in Cornwall, he still *insists* on going to this disastrous excuse of a fast-food counter at the end of a bender.  A couple of times I've been desperate enough to participate - and always regret it.  For three pounds, you too can buy a nasty, dry piece of pastry with some questionable chunks of cheap meat and a vegetable or two stuffed meagerly inside.

Real Cornish Pasties aren't like that.  To remind myself of how good they once were, The Husband and I cooked up a batch of these little beauties.  Using organic veg, a small amount of organic beef, and hand made pastry, we created some pasties that put the "Cornish Pasty Shop" to shame. 

Traditional Cornish Pasties

• 8oz flour
• 4 oz butter
• iced water
• 3/4 lb stewing steak, cubed
• 2 large potatoes, cubed
• 1 turnip or sweded, cubed
• 1 carrot, diced
• 1 onion, chopped
• freshly ground salt and pepper

Place the flour with a pinch of a salt in a bowl.  Rub the butter into the flour.  Use a very small amount of iced water to help mix the dough into a ball. Place the ball into the fridge and chill until ready to use.

Place the steak, potatoes, turnip and onion in a bowl and season with salt and pepper. 

Divide the pastry into 6 balls and, on a floured work surface, roll each out into a round.  Sprinkle the round with flour, and place a mound of mixture on each.

Seal the pasties by damping the entire circumference of the pastry circle with water and the pull both sides of the pasty to meet the top.  (I needed two people to complete this step - thank goodness for The Husband!  He actually ended up rescuing me and doing all the shaping!)

Press together where the sides meet, and crimp the pastry all along the half moon shape.  Apparently the wives of the tin miners made the pasties into this shape to fit into their lunch boxes!

Coat the pasties with flour on the worksurface, and place the pasty on a well greased baking tray.

Bake in the oven at 190° for 10-15 minutes, then turn the oven down to about 180°, and bake for another 45 minutes to allow the meat and veg to cook.

These are so easy to make, and delicious straight out of the oven!  I might pack a few in a lunchbox the next time I go for an after work drinking session. 

Back at Panary this week

Right now, I'm sitting in a lovely B&B in Shaftesbury, Dorset.  In the morning, I'll be starting my three day course at Panary, Paul Merry's bread school.  After my apprentice day in August, I've been itching to get back here and learn more! more! more! about professional bread baking. 

The B&B so far is fantastic... I'm looking so forward to spending three days away from work, by myself (miss the husband and cat terribly though), with three days of non-stop bread madness, and three nights of quiet, with just me and the laptop.

I'm a bit worried about dinner though.  What's worse - eating by yourself in a pub? (shudder)  Or just grabbing a cold egg and cress sandwich from the fridge in Esso? (cringe)  Can you tell I don't spend a lot of time alone?  

I'm planning to really stretch myself over the next few days though.  I'm going to tackle the two bakery items I fear: brioche and croissants.  I'm also going to try to bake in percentages off the top of my head, like Paul does.  Or divide dough into twenty four identical rolls without weighing.  Or shape 16 loaves into rounds at the same time.  (I don't actually know if he can do that.  I bet he can.)

Off to bed.... more tomorrow night.

Fresh from the oven: Edible Bread Bowls

Here is my first challenge from "Fresh from the Oven".  I noticed in August that they were baking the English Muffins from the River Cottage Bread book that I make all the time! 

This month's challenge was Edible Bread Bowls from Richard Bertinet's book, Dough. (Thanks to Corry from bakeitoff.blogspot.com for setting the challenge!) I have to admit, this is one of the less well worn books in my bread book collection.  It's full of beautiful photos and practical advice; but the recipes just don't seem to inspire me like my River Cottage bread book.  

These soup bowls were an exception, though.  I've had my eye on this page in the book for MONTHS.  What more of an excuse did I need?  Oooh - and the day the challenge was announced... wait for it....  I was already planning to make soup for dinner.  It's like the stars had aligned, and the bread gods were cheering me on!

This is a super easy recipe.  It's basic dough that you shape into bowls and bake.  I had two major obstacles:

1)  I can't roll dough into a circle to save my life.  I just can't.  How does one maintain a circle shape when the rolling pin goes back and forth in a straight line?  I'm going back to Panary next week, and I'm going to demand Paul Merry gives me an hour long master class in rolling circles. 

2) What to bake these bowls in?!?  I don't have a lovely set of matching Le Creuset bowl shaped dishes, and I don't own more than one Pyrex dish in the same size. 

So I rolled the dough out into oblong elephant shaped replicas of New Zealand. It was as close as I was going to get.

Then I checked the bottom of my Noritake soup bowls, and they said "Oven Safe", which was a relief, and quite scary at the same time.  I actually put my normal everyday soup bowls into the oven.  !!!!   I stood back a bit when they came out....  it was fine.

Here's the final bread bowl with a lovely butternut squash and coriander soup in it.  It held the soup better than I thought it would, and didn't soak through before we could eat it all.  The outside was a little less smooth than in the book photo - perhaps I could have greased the bowls a little better?   All in all, a fun experiment that I would probably try again!  .... Once I know how to roll dough circles out properly.

Homemade Pasta

Dried pasta from a bag just doesn't compare to homemade pasta.  Hell, even the fresh pasta from Waitrose, dahling doesn't come close. 

When you start baking bread all the time, pasta becomes the next logical step.  Take away the yeast, add an egg instead, and you've got a beautiful loaf of pasta.

I love making my own pasta.... but I haven't bought a pasta machine yet.  I really want an Imperia (the ONLY one worth buying, they say).  But ever since Graphic Foodie found one in a charity shop window, I keep stalling, hoping one day I too will stumble across a pristine Imperia, waiting for me to rescue it at silly price.  So far no luck. 

So, without a machine, here I am, an abomination against Italians everywhere, making up my own pasta shape!  I've googled it, it doesn't exist!  I confirmed with Italian friends (who have probably now placed a hit against me)!

So here I have these little rectangle shapes.  Normally I'd try to slice them into long linguine type strips, but those always just get tangled up and rip.  It's a weeknight.  I don't want to do anything fancy.  Rectangles are the way forward.  Rectanglini - that's what I'll call them! 

Sorry, Italians.  I know I've sinned.  But honestly, they still taste fantastic!  Here they are with some veg-box leftovers and some gorganzola. Deliziosa!

Marmesan - Marmite and Parmesan bread and the Brockwell Bake

Okay folks - here it is.   This is where I reveal the new loaf of bread I've been perfecting over the past few months - Marmite and Parmesan bread - Marmesan. (Geddit?)

We came up with the idea when I decided to enter the Brockwell Bake - a baking competition held in Brixton.  The Husband and some friends of ours came up with the ingredients, I came up with the name.  I then took the idea, and worked on it over three months, taking samples into work, until I was happy with the recipe. 

I was VERY excited about the Brockwell Bake.  Legendary bakers judge categories of bread made by the public, (Dan Lepard was a judge last year), and millers and industry professionals hold talks on various topics about Real Bread.  What better way to spend a Sunday afternoon?!

Hopes held high, we proudly arrived with two loaves of freshly baked Marmesan.  There weren't too many entries, but enough to make it competitive.  Each category (white, sourdough, wholewheat etc.) had two levels - professional and home baked.  I entered Marmesan into the home baked Specialty category.   I drooled over a long table of various stoneground organic flours from around the country, and carefully chose three interesting looking ones to take home.

Then we waited.  And waited.  The talks were running excruciatingly late, and finally started around four hours after they should have.  What could have been a very interesting talk from Jonathan Cook of Fosters Windmill, Swaffham Prior kept being interrupted by some mouthy know-it-alls in the front row (who were obviously veteran expert bakers, but come on, you don't interrupt someone presenting to an audience!)

Then the winners of the competition were announced.  It turned out that these same veteran expert bakers could enter the home baked category if they'd baked their entry from home.  Yeah, cos that's fair.  The mouthiest of the mouthy know-it-alls walked away with almost every prize.  Another (non mouthy and quite nice) professional baker walked away with most of the rest of the home baked category prizes.

Resisting the urge to shout "fix!", I collected my flour purchases and stormed off, as best as one can storm off when no one is watching because one didn't win anything...

Turns out the mouthy guy who won everything (including best in show) was the competition organiser. I kid you not.  Take a moment to reflect upon the pure unfairness of it all.  The competition organiser, a veteran professional baker, enters the home baked categories, and wins it all.  What a farce.  What a waste of time, energy, and beautiful Stoates stoneground flour.  And Marmite.

I still stand by the fact that my Marmesan bread was great though, and The Husband can't get enough of it... so here's the recipe:

Marmesan Bread

100g white sourdough leaven
300g strong white bread flour
100g wholemeal flour
300ml warm water
10g fresh yeast, crumbled
200g Marmite
100g freshly grated Parmesan cheese

Mix the leaven, flours and yeast together with the water and knead for five minutes.  Stretch the dough out and pat it into a square.  Pour half the Marmite into the dough, and continue to knead until the Marmite is worked in.  At this point you will think you've ruined your dough as it all turns wet and gooey, but trust me - it will get better.   When you think you're brave enough, add the second half of the Marmite and work it all in.  Your previously white dough will now be a soft orangey-brown colour.  

Shape the dough into a round, and let it rise in a warm covered bowl until it doubles in size.  Press your fingers in the dough to deflate it, and repeat the rise until it doubles in size again.  Shape the dough into a loaf, and place into a bread tin.  Generously shave the Parmesan over the top of the loaf and bake for 35-40 minutes.  Cool on a wire rack.

This bread is really really good with cheese on it, or with baked beans on top for breakfast.

A Boulangerific Week in Provence...

The Husband and I just came back from an incredible week driving around Provence.  I'm still not sure if I was insanely overjoyed at the amount of bakeries the French have, or if I was outrageously jealous.  There is a proper artisan bakery on almost every street - and they do great business. 

Bread highlights of the week include:

• Stumbling into the back of a bakery, fresh off the airplane in Nice.  The bakers were more than happy to let us stand and watch in amazement as they baked loaf after loaf.  "This is the French bread stick...  Very famous in France."  "The baguette?", "Yes!  You've heard of it!?"


• Visiting Chez Auzet in Cavillion, where Peter Mayle wrote his book, "Confessions of a French Baker".  I bought a copy while enjoying a yummy tart and a baguette.  The bread was great, the book was a bit rubbish.  (I should have been tipped off by that awful Russell Crow movie based on another book he wrote!)


• Picking up a fresh loaf of bread every day to eat in the car.  I was a little embarrassed when I noticed all the crumbs all over the floor when we turned the rental car back in.  I'm sure they're used to it.


• Finding a pouch of Provencal herbs and seeds to use in dough.  I think this is as close as the French get to 'bread mix'. 

My new (and foodie) artwork purchase

The minute I laid eyes on this funky muffin triptych, I knew I had to have it.  It's just the perfect artwork for me to own.

I've always had a penchant for triptychs.  Paintings that come in threes have always appealed to me.  This one is using soft, pretty colours.  The detail in it is amazing - the crack in the muffin from the heat of the oven is so realistic that I had to touch the painting to see if it was a real crack. 

(Duh - of course it wasn't.  Off topic:  remember the woman who fell into the crack in the Tate Modern because she thought it was just a painting of a crack?  Har har!)

And the two things that really sealed the deal for me were the fact that they are muffins! (and you all know how much I LOVE muffins!) And that they were painted by my friend the lovely and talented Louise Thompson.  Lou has her Masters in Fine Art, and paints lovely foodie pictures on canvas.  You can see more of Lou's outrageously good work on her website: http://louisecthompson.com

Real Bread Campaign Membership

Ooooooh, how cool is this!?! The Real Bread Campaign is going to be offering a membership scheme in September.  I love the Real Bread Campaign - they really fight to get the word out about how awful factory manufactured bread is in this country. 

The fact is - since after the war, our store-bought bread has been getting progressively worse.  It used to be a healthy staple in our diets.  Now, we're encouraged to buy bread from the supermarket from one of only a handful of large corporations, who have their profits in mind - not our health. 

By law, bread made using modern methods doesn't have to ferment for very long, contains a ridiculous amount of yeast, can be made using nutritionally depleted flour, crazy amounts of salt, and contains a very long list of icky ingredients to give the illusion that it stays fresh for a long time, and to prop it up and give it stability.   The worst part is the enzymes that are used as "processing agents", which don't have to be declared on the label.  These can include such nasties as extract from pig's liver and crushed bones and feathers..... but since it's a processing agent (and not on the label), the bread can still be declared "suitable for vegetarians".   Ew.

Basic real bread contains: flour, water, yeast, salt.   That's it.  You can bake it at home, or buy it from your lovely local artisan baker - of which there are far too few of.  I read somewhere once that most of the bread we buy at the supermarket would not legally be called "bread" in France.

The Real Bread Campaign is trying to change all of this.   They work hard to campaign for healthy bread manufacture, lobby against the big nasty bread companies, and support the good guys who are making a difference to the bread we eat in this country.  And soon, they'll offer membership!!! 

Membership will open up on September 14th, and will cost £20.  According to their website, membership will get you:

• Four issues of True Loaf, the exclusive quarterly magazine
• A membership card offering a wide range of discounts
• Access to the members’ area of the Real Bread Campaign website, packed with additional extras
• The Real Baker-e, an online community where members can find and share supportive advice, ideas and information

And a whole schwack of discounts at bakeries and bakery schools. 

Count me in!!!

Crumpets

Mmmmm - what a weekend breakfast!   Homemade crumpets are ten billion thousand times better than icky store bought ones.  But notice the difference?  They are not disc-shaped.   This is what happens when you don't own "crumpet rings", and have to use egg rings instead.  And when your egg rings are square and heart shaped.  Makes for pretty crumpets though!

Crumpets

450g plain flour
300mL warm water
300mL warm milk
10g salt
10g fresh yeast
vegetable oil

Mix the flour, milk, water and yeast into a large bowl and leave to rest, covered for an hour.  Make sure it's a large bowl, as mine bubbled up and spilled off the counter and on to the floor!

After an hour, add the salt and stir well.  Wipe a large flat pan with oil, and heat to a medium temperature.

Place the rings in the middle of the pan, and pour batter until just at the top of the ring.  Cook for 5 minutes on one side (bubbles should be appearing and it should result in "ooohing" and "wow, it looks like real crumpets!" from any bystanders).  Flip the crumpets over and cook for 1-2 minutes on the other side.  Pop them onto a cooling rack, or a plate in the microwave to keep warm and enjoy them while they're warm!!    Jam and cheese on mine, thank you!

Bank Holiday Weekend Baking Extravaganza

The August bank holiday weekend is always a little bittersweet.  I'm not going to complain about having 3 days off work, but it's always a bit of a let down.  There are "planned engineering works" all over the tube network, so you can't go anywhere.  You can't buy a train ticket anywhere because the rail companies charge 5x the price over the long weekend.  You can't go away anywhere by plane because you'll end up paying through the nose, or having to go to Cork.  Oh - and there's always that bit of dread in the back of your mind that this is the last bank holiday until Christmas.   (Everyone else gets Remembrance Day off!  We should be protesting in the UK over this!)

So naturally, my mind turned to baking bread.  I always have a queue of new recipes I want to try, and baking sourdough is always confined to a weekend because it takes so much time to make.  So this weekend I raided my flour cupboard and got to work baking. 

First was a beautiful white sourdough which ended up making two huge loaves.  I made a sponge the night before from my leaven, and in the morning it was really bubbly and ready to get to work.  It rose the dough really quickly, with huge big holes.  I put one loaf into my proving basket, and made the other into a wobbly loaf.

Second was my latest attempt to perfect my own recipe that I will be entering into the Brockwell Bake competition in September.  I can't give too much away yet - the only clue I can give is that it is called "Marmasan". 

Third was a batch of baguettes.  These had real potential to be amazing, but a bit of a miscalculation with oven timings meant that they stayed on the counter too long proving, and collapsed into flat bread-stick type things.  They're still pretty soft, if a bit ugly... so not a total waste of time.

After ten hours of baking, The Husband volunteered to make pizza for dinner. Was I sick of mixing flour and water with yeast?  Hell, no!  But I then realised I had run out of white bread flour.  Which meant we had to have wholewheat pizza bases.  Which also lead me to discover that I had EIGHT bags of wholemeal flour in the cupboard.  I'm going to need another bank holiday weekend.