If heavy rain, then borscht

I am, it would appear, completely predictable. When the weather or temperature reaches a certain state, a food impulse is triggered and I get cooking. In this case, it’s rain.  Give me a week of heavy rain – or a week’s worth in one day – and it’s borscht time.

I found beautiful, firm beetroots in Morrisons today (along with cassava and ettoes, neither of which I’ve ever cooked – but will, for sure, one day) and I just knew what I wanted to eat.  As soon as I got home, I put the ingredients out and took some photos. This is normal, right?

I’ll blog this recipe, I thought to myself. And then, just to be sure, I checked the archive. Oh, I see. It was rainy in October 09 too…

My old borscht post

But it’s still worth it. I had a bowl for lunch, earthy, and warming, with a sliced, oh-so-juicy pear, some blue cheese and homemade beremeal bannocks (this recipe). It was so, so very good.  It would appear that I repeat myself for good reason.

Day in the Life – 17th November

I’m allowed to sleep until 8.25 which is an amazing lie-in. Husband has been up for a while and is downstairs dealing with 4yo, and in his absence, 9yo has sneaked into his warm bit of the bed. She’s not well, tonsils are swollen and she has some mighty big mouth ulcers, so it’s a day off school for her. This is a bit of a bugger as I’m supposed to be going to the Country Living Christmas Fair. Husband brings me tea and I go to wrangle 4yo to school.

We arrive to find a small black scottie dog in the middle of the road outside school. It’s causing a bit of traffic havoc, but I know the dog so pull over and try to call her to the side so’s I can catch her. Fortunately my friend and her wee girl are passing so we use a bit of her little ‘uns breakfast sandwich to catch the scamp.

I take Dylan the dog (that is, our dog) for a walk in the park, which is nice for both of us. Then it’s home for him and off to the Fair for me!

The fair is fab – it even smells Christmassy. I see a few folk I know – Danni of Bonbons and Buttercream, who sells me a chocolate muffin mix in jar, which is intended for the P1 teacher who’s heading off on Maternity leave, Jenny and Emma at the Showpony stand (Showpony was responsible for my *free!!complimentary!* ticket ) plus I bump into a couple of mums from school. It’s all very pleasant.

I get back home in time to grab a bowl of soup for lunch and then out to get 4yo from school.

Ooh, the postie brings an Amazon parcel – it’s the Bust DIY Guide to Life. I’ve bought it as a gift for someone but can’t remember exactly who… You see, this is what happens when you do online shopping late at night, possibly after a glass of wine. Also credit card bill, including a year’s car insurance. Goodbye birthday money, potential new shoes and luxury food items, hello well-insured austerity.

The 4yo refuses to go swimming (each child gets one refusnik chance card per term) so we go home, eat Lidl stollen and watch Scooby doo. Mystery Incorporated is definitely the absolute nadir of the Scooby Doo oeuvre. Fred and Daphne actually getting off with each other – ew. Velma vying with Scooby for Shaggy’s affection – that’s just plain wrong.

There is lots of building work going on outside the house so the dog keeps barking madly. I go to look every time – when will I learn? There’s never anything exciting there.

It’s two weeks until 4yo becomes 5yo, and I haven’t done anything about her party yet. It being P1, I think a whole-class party is best, but having seen the whole class in action, decide that soft-play (ie total delegation) is the best idea. Finally get it together, phone the place and book it. She is chuffed to bits. I have agreed to make a Harriet Hedgehog chocolate cake, so do a bit of light googling for the recipe.

Hell’s bells, look at the time – 5 o’clock. I phone husband to remind him that he has a ski lesson tonight, then get on with dinner. 4yo helps me make corn muffins and there’s 8-hour stew from yesterday.

Take 9yo to piano – although she’s not well, she really wants to go as she’s done lots of practice this week. It goes okay. When she gets back the girls make invitations for the 4yo’s upcoming party on the computer. Very cute.

By 9pm children are finally dispatched to bed, I watch Only Connect and Buzzcocks on iplayer and brush the dog, then listen to I’ve never seen star wars and I’m sorry I haven’t a clue on the radio iplayer while I clean up in the kitchen.

Late night, off to bed at 12.45 – oops. Double oops, I read until 1.15.

Phew – that was my day in the life. Thanks to Laura for picking a good day, and Mooosh for collation duties

Adventures with the Great British Bake-Off

The Great British Bake-Off became a highlight of the week’s tv for me, when it was on a few months ago. Sadly, I missed the bit when the boy dropped the cake (much to the delight, I’m sure, of the cameraman who caught it on tape, and the director who dreams of this kind of drama in a baking programme) but there was something quite engrossing about watching people baking, pacing up and down in front of ovens, measuring dough and so on.

So I was very pleased to receive the book of the series for my birthday.

Pleased, but not surprised, as I’d bought it myself three weeks previous and handed it to my husband saying “the girls might like to give me this for my birthday”. It’s got all the recipes for the technical challenges, with step by step photos. And I thought I should really work through all the challenges from the show. So here we go, with challenge no 1.

Brandy snaps

Now, I’m not normally a fan of brandy snaps. They’re usually too thick, the shards unpleasantly sharp and jaggy in your mouth, and requiring quite a lot of noisy crunching while eating. But today we were going to visit a friend who’s not so bothered about chocolate but can’t resist anything with cream.

Here’s the recipe I used.

Step one involved melting butter, syrup and demerara sugar over a low heat. This took ages, and I’m still not totally convinced it was completely smooth – the demerara granules are quite robust. Then you stir in the flour and ginger and mix well. It’s a curious dough, oozing and spreading out on the tray, but still with the stickiness of cake batter. Anyway, it firms as it cools and then you can roll it into little balls, all neat and ready for the tray.

It’s a bit of a labour- and time-intensive exercise when you get to the baking – you only want four ready at a time, so I had two trays and staggered their timing. After 12 minutes, they were perfectly lacy and brown, a couple more minutes cooling and they needed to be shaped round the handles of wooden spoons.

The end result was pretty fab actually. Light and super-crisp, they melt in the mouth, and there’s a good ginger kick to them too. I used dairy cream in a can – partly laziness and partly because I’ve lost the adapter bit for the piping bag nozzle attacher – but this deflated quite a bit by the time we came to eat them. Nevertheless, they got a very positive reaction from the ladies who lunch and, indeed, their children.

What would Mary and Paul say? Well, Paul would probably note that I didn’t quite manage to get them all exactly the same size, and that they weren’t perfectly cylindrical as they sort of drooped a little on their spoons as they cooled. But I think Mary would like their crunch and the peppery ginger bite.

So in summary. They’re yummy, easy, use store-cupboard ingredients and look misleadingly impressive… brandy snaps, I think I love you.

Season to taste

My little sister recently returned home after a year working and living in Paris. “Would you like me to bring you anything back?” she asked, “Just bear in mind, I have 20kg total baggage allowance and will be travelling wearing three coats, a dress, a skirt and a pair of jeans…”

Well actually…

Pimente d’espelette is a new spice to me. I’d read about it in a magazine write-up of Hélène Darroze’s work. She loves it so much, she named the restaurant at The Connaught after it. But, the article cautioned, you won’t be able to buy it in the UK.

Bless my sister, despite the dire situation regarding baggage allowances, look what she brought me for my birthday!

Not one, but two precious jars of piment d’espelette. The scent is paprika-ish, with a chilli undercurrent, and a whiff of something completely new and different to me. So far I’ve successfully trialled it in egg mayo with spring onions, and put a shake in my shakshuka (try saying that after a couple of gins) but according to this page there’s a whole host of other ways to use it.

I’d love to visit the Connaught and see how Hélène Darroze uses it, but in the meantime, I might just mix up some 24hr no-knead bread, blend half a teaspoon or so into some good butter, and indulge myself.