Open 2 x 400g cans of butterbeans and rinse the beans in a sieve under cold running water, then tip them into a saucepan. Pour in 100ml of water and bring to the boil, then lower the heat and let the beans simmer for 10 minutes in order to heat them through.
Thickly slice 100g of fresh shiitake mushrooms. Cut 100g of chestnut mushrooms into quarters. You will also need 150g of small wild or cultivated mushrooms, left whole.
Melt 30g of butter with 3 tbsp of olive oil in a shallow pan. Add first the chestnut mushrooms, then the shiitake mushrooms then, finally, the whole wild mushrooms, letting them cook to tenderness over a moderate heat.
Chop a small bunch (5g) of chives and add them to the mushrooms along with 12 chopped mint leaves and continue cooking for a minute or two. Season with salt, a little black pepper and a squeeze of lemon juice.
When the butterbeans are hot, pour 100ml of double cream into the mixture and then add 30g of butter. Mash it to a thick purée. I do this in the food processor, but you could use a potato masher or a fork if you prefer.
Season carefully, then spoon the mashed beans on to a couple of shallow bowls or plates, then divide the mushrooms, together with any cooking juices, on top. A trickle of fruity olive oil at the end is a sound touch. Serves 2.
When placing pork chops in a pan, I often put them in on their edge, holding the chops upright with my kitchen tongs, to get a good golden colour and a little blistered crispness to the rim of fat. I then lay the chops down flat to lightly brown them.
olive oil 2 tbsp butter 20g pork chops 2 (250g each) small apples 2 apple juice unfiltered 250g sage leaves 4 black grapes 100g
Pour the oil into a shallow pan set over a moderate heat. Add the butter, then the pork chops, seasoned with salt and black pepper, and the whole apples (halving the fruits if necessary.) Leave the chops to colour lightly on the underside, then turn them over and brown the other side.
Pour in the apple juice, add the sage leaves and continue cooking for 5 to 7 minutes or until the chops are cooked through.
Halve and seed the grapes, then add them to the pan. Remove the chops to a warm plate and cover with foil, to allow them to rest. Turn up the heat to let the apple juice and pork juices reduce to about half their volume. As it reduces, the liquid will become shiny. Serve the chops and apples, spooning the pan juices and grapes over the top.
Duck legs need slow, gentle cooking, and the results are very rewarding. Here, I’ve cooked them with olives, sherry, tomatoes, cinnamon and a hint of chilli, a typically heady east Mexican combo. The meat falls apart into the rich, gently spiced sauce, making it perfect for serving with thick ribbons of pasta. Serves six.
4 duck legs Salt and freshly ground black pepper 2 onions, peeled and chopped 2 garlic cloves, peeled and chopped 2 400g tins plum tomatoes, drained and rinsed 180ml manzanilla sherry 1 tsp dried oregano A few pinches of dried chilli, to taste 2 bay leaves 1 cinnamon stick 150g green olives, stoned and halved 250ml chicken stock 500g pappardelle (or other ribbon pasta) Extra-virgin olive oil, to serve Grated parmesan, to serve
Season the duck generously. Gently heat a large, wide pan – you won’t need oil because duck is very fatty. Warm the legs for two or three minutes, until they start to sizzle and release fat, then turn up the heat and brown all over for eight minutes, until golden.
Remove the duck from the pan, turn the heat to medium and add the onions, garlic and a big pinch of salt. Scrape up any sticky brown remnants of duck, and fry gently for eight minutes, until soft. Add the tomatoes, break them up with a wooden spoon, then stir in the sherry, oregano, chilli, bay, cinnamon stick, olives and stock, and bring to a boil. Season to taste, turn down to a gentle simmer, put the duck in the sauce and cover. Cook for 75 minutes, then take off the lid and cook for 30 minutes more, until the liquid has reduced and the meat is starting to fall off the bone.
Lift out the duck and use a couple of forks to roughly shred the meat; keep the bones for stock. Return the meat to the pan, stir well to combine and keep warm.
Bring a pan of well salted water to a boil and cook the pasta according to the packet instructions. Drain, and reserve a little of the cooking liquid. Add the pasta to the duck sauce and stir to coat every strand; add a splash or two of the reserved pasta water if the mix needs loosening. Divide between plates, drizzle with good oil, scatter over a little parmesan and serve.
You’ll end up with twice as much mayonnaise as you need for this dish, but it’s really not worth making in smaller quantities: keep the leftovers in the fridge to use with cold meat, fish or veg; it will keep for up to three days. Serves four as a first course or two as a lunch.
2½ tsp dark muscovado sugar 2cm piece fresh ginger, peeled and finely grated 2 garlic cloves, peeled and crushed 1½ tbsp olive oil 3 plum tomatoes, cut in half Salt 24 raw tiger prawns, heads and shells on 1 egg yolk 1½ tsp Dijon mustard 2 tsp red-wine vinegar ⅛ tsp sweet smoked paprika ⅓ tsp sweet paprika 75ml sunflower oil 10g-20g bunch fresh coriander 1 lemon, quartered or halved
Heat the oven to 140C/285F/gas mark 1. Mix the sugar, ginger, garlic, olive oil and a quarter-teaspoon of salt in a bowl. Add the tomatoes, gently toss, then lay cut side up on a small, parchment-lined baking tray. Roast for two hours, turning every half-hour or so, until caramelised and starting to dry out, then set aside to cool for 10 minutes.
In the meantime, bring a steamer pot to a boil and put in half the prawns. Steam for three to five minutes, until just cooked, then remove and repeat with the other prawns. Once the cooked prawns are almost cool, cover and refrigerate.
Transfer the tomatoes (remove and discard any burnt bits) to the small bowl of a food processor and add the egg yolk, mustard, vinegar, both paprikas and a quarter-teaspoon of salt. Blitz until smooth, then, with the motor still running, slowly pour in the sunflower oil and process until the mixture takes on a mayonnaise consistency.
Arrange the prawns on a platter or a large, shallow bowl. Garnish with the coriander and lemon wedges, and serve with the sauce alongside. A large bowl of warm, lemony water on the table will help minimise the mess involved in peeling and dipping.
A cold summer soup as made by Witness contributor ElleZumbido. Photograph: ElleZumbido/GuardianWitness
The blog Green Kitchen Stories and food writer Diana Henry both have great recipes for chilled soups: this is my take. The seeds add extra crunch and a good dose of protein.
Serves 4
⅓ of a fennel bulb, finely chopped
500ml cold water
½ cucumber, roughly chopped
1 large avocado, peeled, stone removed and chopped
Zest and juice of 1 unwaxed lemon
2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil, plus extra to serve
1 tsp sea salt, or to taste
A large handful dill, chopped
A large handful mint, chopped
Black pepper, to taste
20g toasted pumpkin and hemp seeds (optional)
1 Put the fennel and water in a blender and blitz until there are no pieces of fennel left.
2 Add the cucumber, avocado, lemon juice and zest, oil, salt, and herbs (reserving a few fronds of dill and leaves of mint for the garnish) and blitz again until you have a smooth consistency. Taste and season with the black pepper.
3 Chill for at least 2 hours in the fridge so that it’s very cold. Serve with a drizzle of oil, a sprinkling of salt, some dill and mint and a few seeds.
This sauce is traditionally served with a Spanish spring onion called calçots in its home region of Catalonia (where they also often eat it with fish), but it actually goes with pretty much everything. Try it with grilled leeks, asparagus, steamed purple sprouting broccoli or with pork, steak or chicken. There’s no turning back after you’ve mastered this simple recipe.
A Catalonian romesco sauce is easy and versatile. As here with simply
roasted sea bream, it adds richness to any dish. Photograph: Yuki
Sugiura for the Guardian
Serves 4 2 large pieces of white bread, crusts removed 5 tbsp olive oil 1 garlic clove, crushed to paste with a little salt 100g almonds, toasted 1 tsp hot paprika 1 tsp sweet paprika 2 ripe plum tomatoes, roughly chopped 2 piedmont pepper halves, roughly chopped 1 tbsp sherry vinegar 2 tbsp white wine or water 2 whole large sea bream, descaled and cleaned A few sprigs of thyme
1 Preheat the oven to 200C/400F/gas mark 6. Rip the bread into small chunks and drizzle 1-2 tbsp of olive oil. Season lightly, then place in the oven for 10-15 minutes until golden and crispy. Remove and leave to cool, but keep the oven on.
2 Meanwhile, place the garlic paste, almonds and paprikas in a food processor (or use a pestle and mortar) and grind together, not too finely. Add the tomatoes, peppers and sherry vinegar, then pulse a few times until just combined. With the motor running, add around 3 tbsp of olive oil, or enough to make a coarse-ish paste. Transfer to a mixing bowl and loosen with white wine or water. Adjust the seasoning – you want it to be perky and flavoursome, so adjust the salt or vinegar levels as you see fit.
3 Make a few slashes across the belly of each fish and season all over. Rub with the remaining 1 tbsp of oil and stuff the thyme sprigs inside the cavities. Place in a baking tray, making sure they’re not touching, then place in the hot oven for 15-20 minutes, until the flesh easily comes away from the bones.
4 Crumble the roasted breadcrumbs into the romesco and stir well. Serve with the sea bream and some greens.
Grilled sesame prawn toast, served with pickled cucumbers, from Homemade Takeaways by Rob Allison. Photograph: Kris Kirkham
This has to be one of the worst represented dishes on the Chinese takeaway menu. Too often you open your container to reveal greasy-spoon-style fried bread with a hint of prawn spread over the top, all topped with a concrete layer of sesame seeds. We seem to eat the toasts out of habit and a craving for that omni-flavoured oil they are fried (destroyed) in. Not only are these prawn toasts far healthier, they are also so simple, yet so delicious, that you will find yourself wondering why you ever dialled the takeaway’s number.
Serves two
10 good-sized raw prawns, peeled (check the provenance of your prawns)
1 egg white, lightly whisked until just frothy
1 tsp sesame oil
½ tbsp cornflour
1 tbsp light soy sauce
1 tbsp finely chopped chives
1cm piece fresh ginger, peeled and grated
1 clove garlic, finely diced
2 thick slices of white bread, toasted
2 tbsp sesame seeds
Place the prawns on your chopping board and using a sharp knife, mince them as finely as possible. This takes a bit of time, but is worth doing. You may be tempted to use a food processor, but I find doing it by hand results in a better texture.
Place the minced prawns in a bowl along with the egg white, sesame oil, cornflour, soy sauce, chives, ginger and garlic.
Mix all of the ingredients until they are thoroughly combined.
Preheat your grill to a medium-high heat. Using a spoon or knife, spread the prawn mixture on top of the toast, dividing it evenly.
Spread right to the edges, and don’t be afraid to spread it thickly. Sprinkle each piece with a generous amount of sesame seeds and place under the grill.
Grill the toasts for 5–6 minutes, by which time the sesame seeds should have turned a lovely golden colour and the prawn mixture should be cooked all the way through.
If you are unsure if the prawn is cooked then cut a toast in the middle – the flesh should have turned a light shade of pink.
Soup with benefits: Nigel Slater’s roast tomato soup with caramelised
onions, chilli toasts, goat’s curd, basil oil and roasted garlic recipe.
Photograph: Jonathan Lovekin for the Observer
I make two tomato soups. The first is little more than crushed cherry
tomatoes and basil spiked with red-wine vinegar. The other is more intense,
smoky and sweet-sharp from roasting the tomatoes first with olive oil, rosemary
and garlic, then crushing them and their blackened skins to a coarse, textured
purée.
It is the latter I made this week for two lunches, laid out on the rusty
garden table, where I passed around bowls of mussels and fried pancetta,
tarragon oil and toasted bread with lemon and pepper for everyone to stir into
their soup as they wished.
The second batch, two days later, came with caramelised onions, hot chilli
toasts and spoonfuls of cool, white goat’s curd. We finished both lunches with
white peaches, sliced and left to marinate in glasses of lightly citrus
Kahlenberg Riesling. A dessert as fragrant as it was simple.
Roast tomato soup
Serves 4 tomatoes 1.5kg onions 2,
chopped olive oil 60ml garlic 1 whole
head rosemary sprigs 2 red-wine vinegar
2 tsp
Set the oven at 200C/gas mark 6. Peel and chop the onions, then transfer them
to a roasting tin. Discard the stalks and stems from the tomatoes, then cut them
in half (or use whole cherry tomatoes). Pull the needles from the rosemary and
mix them with the onions and tomatoes. Pour over the oil, tossing everything
together. Place the whole head of garlic, unpeeled, among the tomatoes.
Bake the tomatoes and onions for an hour, with the occasional stir, until the
onions are soft, sticky and lightly coloured and the tomatoes have darkened.
Remove from the oven and transfer the tomatoes, onions and the roasting juices
to a blender or food processor.
Break the garlic into cloves then squeeze the soft, inner flesh of each clove
into a small dish. Add half the garlic to the tomatoes and reserve the other.
Process the onions and tomato mixture until you have a coarse purée. Season with
the vinegar, salt and black pepper and set aside.
Caramelised onions, chillli toasts and goat’s curd and basil oil
For the caramelised onions: onion 1,
large olive oil 2 tbsp golden caster
sugar 2 tsp red-wine vinegar 1 tbsp, mellow
Peel and finely slice the onion, then cook it for a good 15-20 minutes in the
olive oil in a small pan. Keep the heat low to moderate stirring regularly, so
that the onion softens then starts to caramelise. Scatter the sugar over the
softened onion, let the sugar melt then, just as it starts to turn brown, stir
in the balsamic vinegar.
For the chilli toasts: butter 50g red chilli
1, medium sized ciabatta 4 slices sea
salt flakes
Melt the butter in a small pan. Halve, seed and finely chop the chilli, then
stir it into the butter. Using the oven at 200C/gas mark 6 or an overhead grill,
toast the ciabatta on one side then place them on a baking sheet, uncooked side
up and spoon over the chilli butter. Toast until the butter starts to sizzle and
the bread colours, then sprinkle with sea salt flakes and serve with the
soup.
For the goat’s curd and basil oil: goat’s curd 4 heaped
tbsp olive oil 150ml basil
20g roasted garlic 5 cloves
Pour the olive oil into a blender or food processor, add the basil leaves and
the garlic cloves and a pinch of salt, then process to a brilliant green oil.
Pour into a small jug or bowl.
Serve by ladling the soup into bowls, pass around plates of the hot chilli
croutes, a bowl of the goat’s curd and a jug or bowl of basil oil. Add a large
spoonful of curd to the soup, a spoonful of the onions, then trickle over some
of the basil oil. Float the croutes in the soup as you serve.
In the red: roast tomato soup with pancetta, mussels, tarragon oil and
lemon croutons. Photograph: Jonathan Lovekin for the Observer
Pancetta, mussels, tarragon oil and lemon croutons
For the tarragon oil: parsley 15g tarragon
leaves 10g olive oil 150ml
Put the parsley leaves, tarragon and olive oil in a blender. Process to a
vivid emerald oil and set aside.
For the lemon croutons: butter 50g lemon
1 ciabatta half
Melt the butter in a small pan. Grate the zest of lemon and add to the
butter. Season with black pepper. Tear the ciabatta into small pieces, then dunk
in the lemon-zest butter. Bake the ciabatta at 200C/gas mark 6 for 7-10 minutes
until golden.
For the pancetta and mussels: pancetta 200g, in the
piece olive oil 2 tbsp mussels 400g, in
their shells, scrubbed parsley 4 tbsp, chopped
Cut the pancetta into small dice. Warm the oil in a pan, add the pancetta and
fry until golden. Add the mussels, cover for 2 or 3 minutes then, as soon as the
shells open, add the chopped parsley and tip into a bowl.
Serve by ladling the soup into bowls. Pass around the fried pancetta and
mussels and let everyone add them to their soup. Scatter lemon croutons over the
soup, then trickle the tarragon oil over the croutons and mussels.
As you can imagine, summer cocktail week came with joy and pain in equal
measure. There’s rarely a better way to spend a sunny evening than outdoors,
drink in hand, with friends and family; however grateful they were on the night,
though, the blame for fuzzy heads laid firmly at my door the next day. All more
than worth it, of course, to test these stellar cocktail recipes.
Proceedings began with Angela Dawson’s rhubarb and custard; the sweet syrup
and heady vanilla vodka was perfectly balanced by the bitterness of tonic water;
aromatic and delicate, it dispelled any preconceptions of it being as sweet as
the name suggests. Next came withmustard’s vodka thyme lemonade; I failed to
track down the citric acid, so rimmed the glass with the sugar and thyme mix
instead. The result was an impressively sophisticated drink with minimal fuss -
definitely one for the recipe scrapbook for all year round. The masala chai and
mint rum infusion from binnyshah made for something deliciously complex, worth
trying for the wonderful smell of the infused rum alone. Fadime Tiskaya’s
pomsecco took a little longer to prepare, but would be a great welcome drink for
any guests you might have this summer, the sharpness of the lime and tonic
offsetting the sweet peaches, pomegranate and prosecco, something altogether
more interesting than the usual bellini. A grapefruit tea with whiskey from
TwinnyDip, filled with bitter and smoky notes, was super-refreshing on a warm
day, as was Paddy MacLachlan’s take on the Mexican michelada. Tomato juice, beer
and soy sauce may not be to everyone’s taste, but personally, I could drink it
by the gallon.
As hard as it was to pick a winner, once my powers of reasoning were
restored, Clairetweet’s ruby gin fizz ticked all the boxes. Using seasonal
fruits with a refreshing zip of lime and a few generous splashes of gin, it’s an
unmistakable taste of summer that’s as easy to make as it is to
drink.
The winning recipe: ruby gin fizz
Really, nothing could be easier than a gin fizz. Also, you’ve got to get your
five-a-day from somewhere, so why not from
cocktails? Clairetweet, via GuardianWitness Makes 6-8For the syrup300g red
berries 200g sugar For the cocktails6-8 shots of gin 2 limes,
juiced Soda water Ice 1 To make the fruit syrup, put the fruit and sugar in a
saucepan over a low heat, then bring to a gentle simmer and cook for around 5
minutes, until the fruit has broken down and the sugar has dissolved. Push
through a sieve to remove the seeds and pulp, then chill. 2 To make the drink, put ice cubes in the bottom of your
glasses, top with a generous amount of syrup, a good squeeze of lime, followed
by the gin. Top up with soda water and decorate with raspberries and lime to
serve. BinnyShah’s pic, uploaded to GuardianWitness, of a masala
chai mint rum infusion.... Photograph:BinnyShah/GuardianWitness Photograph:
GuardianWitness
Masala chai mint rum infusion
Add a chai teabag to rum with a few spices and mint leaves, and voila: a
spicy cocktail! Binnyshah, via GuardianWitness Serves 22 shots spiced rum 1 chai tea bag 1
cinnamon stick Soda water 1 tsp sugar 1 tsp garam masala Juice of 1
lime A handful of mint leaves 1 Pour the rum into a glass or jug, then infuse the teabag
and cinnamon stick in the rum for around 20 minutes. 2 Remove the teabag and cinnamon stick, then pour the rum
into a cocktail shaker and add soda water, sugar, garam masala and a dash of
lime. Give this mixture a good shake and strain into two glasses. Add a handful
of mint leaves, then serve.
Rhubarb and custard
There was a recipe for a rhubarb cocktail in the Guardian recently, and as we
grow more rhubarb than you can shake a stick at, I tried the cordial from said
recipe. I’ve been making it regularly ever since, as rhubarb cordial has a
wonderful flavour, a brilliant colour and keeps well for a week or so in the
fridge; we’ve mixed it with gin and cava before now, but this is our favourite
creation. Angela Dawson, Taunton Makes enough cordial for 8 drinksFor the
cordial400-450g rhubarb, chopped 250g sugar Juice of ½ a
lemon 500ml water For the cocktails1 part vanilla vodka (which you can
buy, or make by steeping a vanilla pod in good quality vodka for a couple of
months) 2 parts rhubarb cordial 3 parts tonic water 1 Put the rhubarb, sugar, lemon and water in a pan, bring to
a boil, then simmer until the rhubarb has disintegrated. Cool, strain through
muslin into a jug for a few hours and chill. 2 To make the cocktail, mix 1 part vanilla vodka to 2 parts
cordial and 3 parts tonic water, pour into glasses with or without ice, then
serve.
Pomsecco
This cocktail is inspired by two of my favourite fruits: I love pomegranate
in every possible way; peach on the other hand was my favourite fruit as a child
(and still is). The combination of the two with the prosecco makes a wonderful
grown-up drink. It is fresh, colourful, zingy and just perfect for warm summer
days. Recipe Swap regular Fadime’s pomsecco (pomegranate and
peach) cocktail. Photograph: Fadime Tiskaya/GuardianWitness
Serves 4200ml pomegranate juice (from 1 large
pomegranate – see below for method) 60g caster sugar 1 cinnamon stick 3
ripe peaches, stoned and chopped 4 tbsp lime juice 280ml prosecco,
chilled 140ml tonic water Ice cubes, to serve 1 To make the pomegranate juice, remove the pith as you work
your way in to get all the seeds out. Discard the pith and outer skin. With a
potato masher, mash the seeds in the bowl and sieve them over a pan, pressing
with a ladle to get as much juice as possible. Discard the seeds. 2 Transfer the juice into a saucepan, add the sugar and
cinnamon and bring it to boil until the sugar dissolves. Take it off the heat
and let it cool, then chill in the fridge. Discard the cinnamon stick. 3 Puree the peaches with a hand blender, then push through a
sieve to get a smooth puree.
4 Mix all ingredients together and serve.
The Michelada – a Mexican favourite
Extremely refreshing, this is either a fancy shandy or a bloody mary with
beer instead of vodka, depending on your view. Makes 12
large ice cubes 1 lemon wedge 1 bottle strong brown beer, at least
6.5% Tomato juice Worcestershire sauce, to taste Soy or tamari soy
sauce, to taste Sriracha or hot chilli sauce 1 Take a half pint or pint glass, then put the ice cubes and
a good squeeze of lemon in it, then drop the wedge into it too. Pour the beer
all the way to the top, then slowly add tomato juice – you’ll be surprised at
how much you can fit into an apparently full glass. 2 Add the Worcestershire sauce, soy sauce and sriracha, or
any other hot chilli sauce. Enjoy! TwinnyDip’s grapefruit ice tea laced with whiskey (and a
cucumber collins). Photograph: TwinnyDip/Instagram
Grapefruit ice tea with whiskey
While hot oolong tea is commonly drunk with or after a meal for its perceived
digestive quality; cold oolong tea is a great summer cooler. Slightly smoky, it
pairs really well with the citrussy, refreshing flavour of grapefruit in this
whiskey-based cocktail. Serves 1200ml grapefruit
juice 100ml oolong tea, cooled 1 tsp brown sugar 40ml whiskey Ice,
for shaking 1 grapefruit, for peel and wedge decorations 1 Mix the brown sugar in the grapefruit juice until
dissolved. Place the grapefruit juice, oolong tea, whiskey and ice into the
cocktail shaker. Shake until the shaker gets very cold. 2 Peel a strip of grapefruit skin, then, using a chopstick
or the handle of a fork, curl the grapefruit peel around it. Place it on top of
the drink, and garnish with a wedge of grapefruit at the top.
Vodka thyme lemonade with sherbet
Warm and earthy thyme reminds me of the sunbaked landscapes of Provence or
Andalucía. It grows wild there, scenting the thick, heavy air of midday. Thyme
goes very well with lemon. And the sherbet? That’s just a bit of fun and you can
leave it out if you like. withmustard’s vodka-thyme lemonade – with sherbet ‘just
for fun’. Photograph: withmustard/GuardianWitness Makes 1For the sherbet1 sprig of
young thyme 1 tsp citric acid 100g caster sugar For the cocktail1 unwaxed lemon, cut into wedges 1½
tsp granulated sugar 2 sprigs of thyme 1 shot vodka Sparkling or soda
water to top up Ice 1 For the sherbet (excess may be kept in an airtight
container for up to a week), place the sugar and thyme into a pestle and mortar.
Grind until the leaves are macerated and incorporated with the sugar. Add the
citric acid and mix thoroughly. 2 To decorate the glass, place the sherbet on to a saucer.
Run a wedge of lemon around the rim of a glass, and then dip into the sherbet,
shaking off any excess. 3 To make the drink, muddle the lemon wedges, sugar and
thyme. Add the vodka and sparkling water (about 2 parts). Shake some ice into
the mix and strain into a sherbet-rimmed glass.
The ultimate chocolate chip cookies
These are the cookies that appeared in the July 9, 2008 edition of the New
York Times: the very same cookies that set off an explosion of baking across the
globe to see if, indeed, they are the perfect specimen. The consensus is: yes,
they are.
Makes 18 240g plain flour 240g strong white flour 1¼ tsp bicarbonate
of soda 1½ tsp baking powder 1½ tsp salt 280g unsalted butter, at room
temperature 285g light brown sugar 225g caster sugar 2 large eggs 2
tsp vanilla extract 565g dark chocolate discs (at least 60% cacao
content) Sea salt
1 Sift the flours, bicarbonate of soda, baking powder and salt into a bowl.
Set aside.
2 Using a mixer fitted with paddle attachment, cream the butter and sugars
together until very light – about 5 minutes. Add the eggs, one at a time, mixing
well after each addition.
3 Stir in the vanilla. Reduce the speed to low, add the dry ingredients and
mix gently until combined – just 5 to 10 seconds. Drop the chocolate pieces in
and incorporate them without breaking them. Wrap clingfilm around the dough and
refrigerate for 24-36 hours (the closer to 36 the better.) The dough may be used
in batches, and can be refrigerated for up to 72 hours. Advertisement
4 Preheat the oven to 180C/350F/gas mark 4. Line a baking sheet with
parchment paper or a nonstick baking mat. Set aside.
5 Scoop six mounds of dough, the size of generous golf balls, on to the
baking sheet, making sure to turn horizontally any chocolate pieces that are
poking up: it will make for a more attractive cookie. Sprinkle lightly with sea
salt and bake until golden brown but still soft – 18-20 minutes. You’ll know the
cookies are done when the tops have the caramel folds of a Shar Pei. Transfer
the sheet to a wire rack for 10 minutes, then slip the cookies on to another
rack to cool a bit more. Repeat with the remaining dough, or reserve doughit,
refrigerated, for baking remaining batches the next day. Eat warm. David
Leite, LCcooks.com
Prague cake
A deeply, darkly, densely chocolatey affair, this take on the Austrian
sachertorte should be enjoyed in generous wedges with a large glass of milk.
Serves 10 5 medium eggs, cold 150g sugar 80g butter, melted but
cooled a little 30g cocoa 170g flour 70ml Tia Maria
For the cream filling 4 egg yolks 4 tbsp water 1 tbsp cocoa
powder 200g salted butter, softened 250g condensed milk
For the ganache 200g dark chocolate (70%), finely chopped 60g
butter
1 Beat the eggs and sugar together with an electric mixer until very foamy.
Pour the butter in and then gently fold in the flour with a spatula.
2 Preheat the oven to 180C/350F/gas mark 4 and prepare a 24cm tin with a
removable base by buttering it or lining it with baking parchment. Pour the
batter gently into the tin and bake for 25 minutes. Test it by gently touching
the top – if it springs right back, it’s done. Turn the oven off and leave the
cake in the oven to cool, with the door open.
3 When cool, slice the cake horizontally into two discs and drizzle both
discs with the Tia Maria.
4 Next make the cream. Heat the egg yolks and water in a glass bowl set over
a pan of simmering water. Whisk it constantly until the yolks turn foamy and
thick. Then stir in the cocoa powder and remove from the heat.
5 Beat the butter with an electric mixer and, when it starts to foam, trickle
in the condensed milk. Then gently fold in the cooled yolk mixture.
6 To make the ganache, pop the chocolate and butter into a glass bowl and set
it over a pan of simmering water. Do not disturb it too much or it will go
grainy. Let it melt slowly, then give it a gentle stir once it looks almost
melted.
7 Meanwhile, spread the condensed milk cream inbetween the sponge and then
spread the chocolate ganache on top and down the sides of the cake. Olia
Hercules, oliahercules.com
Chocolate madeleines with a fudgy chocolate dip
Madeleines are delightful little tea cakes, best served fresh and warm from
the oven. The double chocolate here makes for a special kind of teatime treat.
To achieve the desired lightness, don’t overwork the batter.
Makes 12 For the madeleines 95g unsalted butter 60g flour 20g
cocoa powder ½ tsp baking powder A pinch of salt 2 large eggs 70g
caster sugar 15g honey
For the fudgy chocolate dip 200ml double cream 3 tbsp dulce de
leche 200g dark chocolate (70%), finely chopped
1 Gently melt the butter. Use 1 tbsp to generously butter a 12-cup madeleine
tin, then put the tin in the fridge.
2 Sift the flour, cocoa powder, baking powder and salt into a bowl.
3 Whisk the eggs, sugar and honey with an electric hand whisk for 2 minutes,
until light in colour and doubled in size. Using a spatula, delicately
incorporate half the cocoa-flour mix and half the butter, mixing gently without
overworking the batter. Repeat with the remaining cocoa flour and butter. Let
the batter sit in the fridge for one hour. You can make the batter the day
before but the madeleines will be lighter if the batter rests for just one hour.
Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 220C/425F/gas mark 7.
4 Divide the batter between the 12 madeleine holes. Bake for 8-10 minutes
depending on your oven. Turn out on to a wire rack upside down and leave to cool
while you make the dipping sauce.
5 Heat the double cream and dulce de leche until just simmering and well
combined. Put the chopped chocolate in a bowl and pour the hot cream over the
top. Leave for a minute then whisk until well blended.
6 Serve while the madeleines and the dip are warm. Any leftover sauce will be
delicious on vanilla ice-cream. Valérie Berry, valerieberry.com
Bitter chocolate, sea salt and extra-virgin olive oil ganacha with
crostini
A big bowl of seriously bitter molten chocolate with crisp, salty olive-oil
toasts for dippers … an extravagance of bold flavours that will definitively
banish any naff chocolate fondue experience you may have had. Use a nice fruity
olive oil if you can – it works wonders.
Serves 4 180g dark chocolate (70%) 80g caster sugar 2 whole
eggs 2 egg yolks 250ml double cream 30ml extra virgin olive oil, plus
extra for the crostini and finishing ½ tsp flaky sea salt, plus extra for the
crostini and finishing 1 small ciabatta
1 Melt the chocolate in a bowl over simmering water and remove from the heat.
Whisk the cream to form soft peaks.
2 Next make a sugar syrup by putting the sugar in a small saucepan with a
splash of water and boiling it over a high heat until the sugar dissolves.
3 Put the yolks and eggs in a mixing bowl and whisk rapidly, gradually
pouring in the sugar syrup (an electric whisk is good for this). The eggs should
be light, fluffy and airy. Fold this mix into the chocolate and then fold in the
whipped cream. Finally stir in the sea salt and the olive oil and rest the
mixture, covered, in a cool area – but not the fridge.
4 Slice the ciabatta into thin rounds and then drizzle with olive oil and
sprinkle with sea salt and grill until lightly browned and crisp.
5 Serve the ganache at room temperature drizzled with more olive oil and
sprinkled with extra salt for crunch alongside the warm crostini. Ben Tish,
saltyard.co.uk
Rusty Road
Honeycomb, cranberries and peanuts embedded in thick dark chocolate ganache –
a perfect homemade chunk of fruit and nut. Rusty road: dark chocolate fruit
and nut with a honeycomb crunch Facebook Twitter Pinterest Rusty
road: dark chocolate fruit and nut with a honeycomb crunch Photograph: Yuki
Sugiura for the Guardian
Makes 16 squares For the rusty road 280g dark chocolate (70%) 250ml
double cream 150g dried cranberries 75g raisins 75g dark chocolate
buttons 75g white chocolate buttons 150g lightly salted, roasted
peanuts
For the honeycomb 200g white sugar 50g honey A splash of
water 10g bicarbonate of soda
1 First make the honeycomb. Put the sugar, honey and a splash of water in a
heavy-based saucepan. Slowly bring it to the boil. Take it off the heat just
before it turns caramel in colour. Allow it to cool ever so slightly.
2 Add the bicarbonate of soda. Whisk a couple of times then quickly (but
carefully) pour and spread it out on to a lined baking sheet using a silicone
spatula. Set aside to cool completely. This makes more than the 150g you need –
store the rest in an airtight container at room temperature for 4-5 days.
3 For the rusty road, put the dark chocolate in a large mixing bowl. Put the
double cream in a pan and bring to a boil. Then pour this over the chocolate and
mix well, until the chocolate is melted and fully incorporated into the cream.
Set aside until near room temperature. Meanwhile, break 150g of the honeycomb
into 1-2cm chunks.
4 Once the ganache has come down in temperature throw in all the other
ingredients and fold well so that everything gets coated well. Pour into an
medium-size, square, lined tray and put in the fridge until cool.
5 Once cool slice into 16 chunks or bites. Alex Bluett, friskafood.com
Dark chocolate and prune tart with hazelnut pastry
This tart is worth every smidgen of the high percentage cocoa solids that go
into it. Crisp nutty pastry, a moussey bitter-chocolate middle and dark chewy
prunes.
Makes 1 large tart 100g ground hazelnuts 200g plain flour A pinch of
salt 225g unsalted butter, cut into cubes 60ml ice-cold water
For the filling 600ml double cream 300g dark chocolate (70%), broken
into pieces 75g unsalted butter 50g muscovado sugar 5 egg yolks 100g
pitted prunes 1 tbsp cocoa powder
1 For the pastry, whizz together the hazelnuts, flour and salt in a food
processor. Add the butter and whizz again until you have a coarse knobbly
texture. Sprinkle over the ice-cold water and pulse again until the dough comes
together. The dough should not be too wet but if it seems too dry, add another
tablespoon or two of water. Wrap in clingfilm and refrigerate for 1 hour.
2 Stand for 15 minutes at room temperature before rolling out to a 3mm thick
disc using it to line a 28cm flan tin. Prick the base and refrigerate for a
further 30 minutes.
3 Preheat the oven to 180C/350F/gas mark 4. Line the pastry shell with
greaseproof paper and fill with baking beans and blind bake for 20 minutes,
before removing beads and greaseproof paper and baking it for another 10
minutes.
4 For the filling, put the cream, chocolate, butter and sugar in a heatproof
bowl balanced over a saucepan of simmering water. Stir occasionally until the
chocolate melts and mixture is smooth and silky.
5 In a separate bowl, whisk the egg yolks, then add a quarter of the
chocolate mixture and whisk to combine. Add the remaining chocolate and stir
gently until well mixed.
6 Reduce the oven temperature to 150C/300F/ gas mark 2. Scatter the prunes
over the tart base and pop on the oven shelf. Pour the chocolate mixture over
and bake for 25 minutes – the tart should be just set.
7 Remove from the oven and cool to room temperature. Dust with cocoa powder
and serve with cream if desired. Ravinder Bhogal
Chocolate peanut milkshake
A drinkable demonstration of how a whole is often greater than the sum of its
parts. This works brilliantly with nut or grain milks too. Chocolate peanut
butter milkshakes. Facebook Twitter Pinterest Nuts about milkshakes:
drinkable double-chocolate peanut-butter heaven. Photograph: Yuki Sugiura for
the Guardian
Serves 4 200g dark chocolate, melted and cooled 4 tbsp crunchy peanut
butter 2 tbsp maple syrup 1 litre milk 500g chocolate ice-cream
1 Put the melted chocolate, peanut butter, maple syrup and milk into a
blender and mix until completely smooth. Add a couple of scoops of ice-cream to
4 tall glasses and pour the chocolate milkshake over. Serve immediately with a
spoon and a straw. Rosie Reynolds, rosiereynolds.co.uk
Chocolate and hazelnut spread
Homemade Nutella: what’s not to like? Best enjoyed on warm, buttered toast
first thing in the morning, or by itself with a spoon late at night.
Makes 2 340g jars 400ml double cream ½ vanilla pod, split in half down
the middle 4 tbsp runny honey 100g blanched hazelnuts 4 tbsp
water 200g dark chocolate 50g unsalted butter A pinch of salt
1 Preheat oven to 180C/350F/gas mark 4. n a small pan, gently warm the double
cream, vanilla and honey over a low heat for 2-3 minutes, stirring
occasionally.
2 Line a baking tray with baking parchment and roast the hazelnuts for about
5 minutes, or until golden brown. When they are ready, remove to cool. Switch
the oven off. Now is a good opportunity to put the jam jars and lids in the oven
to sterilise.
3 Put the chocolate pieces in a bowl over a saucepan of boiling water. Stir
until smooth. Add the butter and sprinkle in a pinch of salt. Stir to mix fully.
Remove from the heat.
4 Once the hazelnuts have cooled, transfer to a food processor and blend into
a smooth paste. For people who prefer crunch, blend to your desired texture, but
you will have to mix the rest of the ingredients by hand or with a mixing
attachment on your food processor.
5 Combine all the ingredients in a bowl or food processor and blend or mix
until completely smooth. While the mixture is warm, it will resemble a thick
fudge sauce, but will eventually cool to a spread consistency.
6 Pour into jars, secure the lids firmly and allow to cool. Store in a dark,
cool place. Concepta Cassar, purepabulum.wordpress.com
Crumbled roasted white
chocolate Facebook Twitter Pinterest Simple but effective: roasted
white chocolate pairs beautifully with sharp fruit or tangy, smooth yoghurt.
Photograph: Yuki Sugiura for the Guardian Roasted white chocolate
This is perfect served with anything sharp – roasted rhubarb, early
raspberries or strawberries – or sprinkled over a panna cotta, or even just
stirred through yoghurt.
200g white chocolate, broken into small chunks
1 Set the oven to 160C/325F/gas mark 3. Scatter the chocolate chunks on a
nonstick baking sheet in the oven. As the chocolate roasts, it will first melt,
then begin to separate, then go gravelly. It looks quite bizarre, but don’t
worry – just keep gently stirring it every 6-8 minutes until it is a nice, deep
golden caramel colour (about 15-20 minutes).
2 Remove from the oven and allow to cool. It will have the texture of firm
crumble. Nicholas Balfe, salonbrixton.co.uk Whisky
chocolate pots
These might seem small, but they are perfectly formed and a little goes a
long way here. Try replacing the whisky with dark rum, amaretto, or any other
liqueur that marries well with chocolate.
Serves 2 140ml double cream 60g dark chocolate A pinch of salt 3
tbsp whisky Zest of 1 orange
1 Pour the cream into a small pan and heat gently. Meanwhile, break the
chocolate into pieces (whacking it, still tightly wrapped, against the kitchen
counter generally does the trick).
2 When the cream begins to simmer, remove it from the heat, add the
chocolate, and stir until melted. When the mixture is smooth, stir in a pinch of
salt and the whisky.
3 Divide the mixture between two ramekins, and chill for at least 2 hours,
until set. Top with orange zest. Felicity Cloake, Perfect Host (Penguin/Fig
Tree)
There’s an inherent wriggliness to a worm that stays with it long after it
has been fried and prepared as the main ingredient in a mealworm taco, for
example. Give the plate a slight nudge and everything moves – it’s like looking
into an angler’s bait bucket.
Eating insects has become common enough that the chains are experimenting
with putting them on the menu, so it was only a matter of time before the wine
matchers wanted in on the act. I’m at London’s Vinopolis where Beth Willard,
buyer for wine merchants Laithwaite’s has chosen wines which she thinks will
best complement the flavours of mealworms, grasshoppers, crickets and queen
weaver ants. We’re trying cricket pad thai, Mexican grasshoppers on toast, a
frangipane of pear, cinnamon and queen weaver ant, and that vermicular taco.
There’s nothing strange about eating insects. The UN’s Food and Agriculture
Organisation (FAO) estimates that some 1,400 species are eaten as part of a
staple diet across Africa, Asia and South America. There are four main groups:
beetles; ants, bees and wasps; grasshoppers and crickets; and moths and
butterflies. Add arachnids to that: tarantulas are popular in Cambodia – fried,
they have the flavour of crab (unsurprisingly since they’re from the same
family) and scorpions (again, with that fishy flavour) are big in China. In
Thailand, crickets are served as bar snacks, the South Africans eat the
caterpillar of the mopani moth, giant steamed water bugs are eaten all over
south-east Asia, they eat termites in Ghana, the Japanese like silkworms. The
list goes on.
Insects are reckoned to pack more protein per gram than fresh meat and some
fish, they are rich in fat and important minerals, and farming them uses a
fraction of the resources used in raising other livestock. As well as their
nutritional value, the FAO says, there is “considerable potential for edible
insects to provide income and jobs for rural people who capture, rear, process,
transport and market the insects” and notes their variety, sold live, dried,
smoked, roasted or in some other form.
Raising insects for food is an industry worth $20m in the US alone, and there
are several companies in this country doing very nicely. “We sell to primary
schools, outdoor activity centres, pubs, leisure parks such Alton Towers – and
the clergy, who like to use locusts in their sermons on John the Baptist,” Nick
Cooper, owner of Crunchy Critters, which provided today’s bugs, says.
Halloween’s big for them, as is the annual new series of I’m a Celebrity …
indicating a market that is more interested in highjinks than thinking of
insects as a serious alternative food source. Cooper says his demographic is
young men between 25 and 30, living in the south east of England. Oxfordshire is
his biggest market, for reasons he can’t fathom.
There are so many good reasons to eat insects, and there’s no reason why I
should be squeamish. I’ve been eating snails and molluscs since I was in short
trousers, I love frogs’ legs, devour cheeses of miasmal pungency. I’m not put
off by exoskeletons, I’ve eaten guinea pig, sea slug and cold calves’ brains.
Why should I balk at a cricket? I think somewhere, I still associate insects
with decay. But counter-intuitively on the point of freshness, that presents
another hurdle. I have a disconcerting squishiness. I swear I just saw one move.
http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/picture/2013/sep/13/eating-insects-infographic-flies-entomophagy
Anyway, enough. In they go. Once I’ve got a mouthful of crickets, the taste
is pleasantly mild and nutty, although the wings get caught in my teeth. But the
overall experience could at best be characterised as disagreeable. why should a
beetle larva cause me such distress? I think, in the end, it’s texture. I’ll
just never get used to the powdery crunch of those cricket wings.
Cricket pad thai The Pad Thai was made with rice noodles, bean sprouts,
sautéed peanuts, spring onions and lime. The crickets themselves, half an inch
long and readily identifiable, have a brittle crunch leading to chewiness as you
bite through the body. Delicate flavour of hazelnuts with a hint of seafood. The
cricket disintegrates in your mouth and leaves you exploring every cavity for
remnants of wing and thorax. You need a very light, aromatic wine: the best
match was the fragrant Cabrito Albillo 2012 from Madrid.
Mealworm tacos Beetle larva, fried or roasted, is a best-seller for
Crunchy Critters. Challenging to look at but the smell is pleasantly like root
vegetables just pulled from the ground. Once on the tongue the flavour is
unexceptional, slightly musty and earthy – it reminds me of parsnip crisps. The
texture is hollow and friable, like a mouthful of dried scales. Comtesse de
Bellefleur Grande Réserve Champagne worked well, its yeasty aromatics
complementing the mustiness, but the best match again was the Albillo.
Chapulines (Mexican grasshoppers) on toast For the first time I really
feel the flavour. After the now-familiar exoskeletal chomp, an umami saltiness,
a bit like miso, with notes of porcini mushrooms. The texture is far meatier
than the crickets. There’s a salty aftertaste as well, and walnut-juice dryness.
Exotic and foreign, the strong flavours overwhelm the aromatic whites but
Gutierrez Colosia Fino NV with its concentrated nuttiness, and top notes of
salted lime, is the perfect foil. Beth says she really feels like she’s eating
salted tapas in the south of Spain.
Frangipane of pear, cinnamon and queen weaver ant It looks like a mini
pecan pie but the pecans are crushed ants, head, thorax and abdomen discernible.
I haven’t seen an ant in such exploded detail since O Level biology. I’m afraid
it just doesn’t work. It’s not sweet enough and between your teeth the ants
release flavours of goat and sty, and a fine tang of faintly scented urine.
Apparently ants are used mainly as a savoury topping and not a main ingredient,
which makes sense. The champagne works really well again, mitigating the
pungency, but the powerful flavours strip all the other wines of their fruit.
Challenging, though the queen weaver is considered a delicacy.
Ginger is one of the few ingredients that is good in all its forms: sticky
stem ginger, ground ginger, fiery fresh ginger, ginger in chewy, sugared chunks
or candied in syrup to a mild sweet warmth. Though each has a slightly different
flavour – some hotter, others more muted – they’re all perfect to bake with.
Typically, I’d add a heap of grated ginger to cakes batters, whereas drier
biscuit and pastry mixes work better with the ground stuff. In bread, which
relies on sensitive yeast for its rise, it’s best to use chunks of sweetened
ginger distributed through the dough. Lebkuchen
These are a gentler alternative to the tooth-cracking gingerbread shapes –
brittle biscuit, rock hard royal icing – so plentiful at this time of year.
Lebkuchen are rich, soft and sweet, spiced and mistily glazed. Because these
spread and rise as they bake, you won’t be able to roll and cut the dough into
fancy shapes, but who needs biscuits shaped like holly leaves, anyway? Ginger
has a kick to it, but when combined with cinnamon and cloves, it yields a more
complex flavour – fragrant, earthy and spicy. It’s a trio that tastes of the
essence of Christmas.
Makes 20-24 120g unsalted butter, cubed 160g plain flour 100g ground
almonds 90g soft light brown sugar 1 tsp baking powder 4 tsp ground
ginger ½ tsp cinnamon ¼ tsp ground cloves A pinch of salt 2 large
egg yolks 2 tbsp golden syrup Advertisement
To glaze 15-20ml water 100g icing sugar
1 Preheat the oven to 180C/350F/gas mark 4 and line a couple of baking trays
with baking parchment.
2 Rub the butter into the flour using your fingertips until no visible pieces
of butter remain. The mixture should look like fine breadcrumbs. Stir in the
ground almonds and sugar, followed by the baking powder, spices and salt.
3 In a separate bowl, whisk the egg yolks together with the golden syrup,
then pour this into the flour mixture. Mash the wet and dry ingredients together
with a fork until you’re left with a smooth, slightly sticky dough.
3 Break off a conker-sized piece of dough and roll between your palms to
produce a smooth ball. Place on the baking tray and flatten to a disc, roughly
1cm thick. Repeat with the remaining dough, spacing the biscuits a few
centimetres apart on their trays.
4 Bake for 15 minutes, until risen, lightly browned and set. Swap oven
shelves halfway through if not using a fan oven. The biscuits will be very soft
when freshly baked, but will firm as they cool.
5 Glaze the biscuits while hot. Slowly whisk the water into the icing sugar
until the mixture is smooth. Brush the glaze liberally over the biscuits and
leave to cool completely on their trays. Stem ginger and white chocolate
stollen, and spicy lebkuchen. Facebook Twitter Pinterest Stem ginger and
white chocolate stollen (below), and spicy lebkuchen biscuits. Photograph: Jill
Mead/Guardian
Stem ginger and white chocolate stollen
It’s easy enough to find a good, boozy Christmas pudding or a feathery
pannetone in the shops, but I’m often left disappointed by stollen, at times too
heavy or too light; bland or hyper-sweet. But when made at home, with a little
patience and a watchful eye, stollen can be spectacular – rich with butter and
egg, studded with chunks of ginger and sweet with zested marzipan.
This version sets hot ginger against the mellow sweetness of white chocolate,
but you can mix and match flavours as you please. Dried fruit will yield a more
traditional stollen, but you could also experiment with pistachios, dried sour
cherries or dark chocolate chips.
For the dough 75g unsalted butter 275g strong white flour 7g instant
dried yeast 25g caster sugar ½ tsp salt 110ml whole milk, lukewarm 1
large egg 1 tsp vanilla extract Zest of 2 lemons 150g stem ginger,
roughly chopped 100g white chocolate, roughly chopped Zest of 1
orange 200g marzipan
To finish 75g butter 50g icing sugar
1 Melt the butter over a low heat then set aside to cool slightly while you
prepare the other ingredients. Combine the flour, yeast, sugar and salt in a
large bowl. Pour in the milk and melted butter, then add the egg, vanilla
extract half the lemon zest.
2 Beat the mixture in the bowl to combine, then tip it out on to a clean work
surface and knead for 10 minutes or so. It’ll start out very sticky, but thanks
to the high proportion of butter, it should begin to feel silkier as you work
it. Don’t worry if it doesn’t reach the smoothness or elasticity that you might
expect from a normal bread dough.
3 After 10 minutes of kneading, add the stem ginger and white chocolate, and
distribute the chunks through the dough using your hands. Return the dough to
its bowl, cover with clingfilm and leave to rise at room temperature until 1½–2
times its original size. This could take as little as one hour if your kitchen
is warm and the yeast lively, but be prepared to wait up to two hours on cooler
days.
4 Tip the risen dough from its bowl on to a well-floured surface and
pat/stretch it out to a rectangle roughly 20 x 30cm. Mash the remaining lemon
zest and orange zest into the marzipan, then use your hands to mould it into a
rough 30cm-long log shape. Lay the marzipan across one of the long edges of the
dough then roll the dough up around the marzipan to form a fat roll. Pat the
roll down to a squat, flattened shape and pinch the ends to secure the marzipan
inside.
5 Leave the shaped stollen to rise on a baking tray, loosely covered with
clingfilm, for an hour or until the bread has increased in size by half.
Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 180C/350F/gas mark 4.
5 Bake the stollen for 40 minutes, until well-risen and golden brown.
6 Melt the remaining butter and brush liberally all over the still-hot
stollen – both on top and underneath. (This is crucial for that characteristic
tenderness, so don’t forgo the extravagance). Repeat until all the butter has
been absorbed into the stollen’s crust. Dust generously with the icing sugar,
then leave to cool completely. Serve in fat slices.
How do you get it creamy yet fluffy, have you made the original River Café
chocolate nemesis recipe, and which other gluten-free desserts are worth a
go?
This week has been a learning curve for me. I’d naively assumed that a
flourless chocolate cake was the kind of thing you might make when a coeliac
friend was coming for tea, possibly involving some sort of ground nuts or
cornflour.
But after looking at a few recipes, it dawned on me that I was barking up
completely the wrong tree. Though such cakes certainly exist, the classic
flourless variety doesn’t just eschew wheat, but any sort of starchy meal,
giving it a rich flavour and a dense, fudgy or creamy texture that puts it
firmly in the dessert, rather than the teatime, category. (Though, of course,
there’s nothing to stop you inviting that coeliac friend for dinner.)
Flourless chocolate cakes don’t tend to vary much in the ingredient
department: there is chocolate, obviously, plus eggs, sugar and some sort of
fat, usually butter but occasionally cream. The difference, as I discovered,
comes in how they are combined and baked.
The chocolate
Justin
Gellatly’s flourless chocolate cake.
Most recipes use just melted chocolate, but ex-St John pastry chef Justin
Gellatly’s excellently named Bread, Cake, Doughnut, Pudding sifts in some cocoa
powder as well. Having used a combination of the two with great success in my
brownie and my teatime chocolate cake recipes, I know that cocoa comes in useful
when you want a concentrated chocolate flavour without making the cake itself
too sickly, and so it proves here. Though undeniably rich, Gellatly’s cake
manages to be intensely flavoured but less cloying than the infamous River Café
chocolate nemesis (the easy version, obviously; I’m not in the market for the
“kind of cowpat” reported by those unfortunates who trialled the original
recipe).
Gellatly and the River Café both use a relatively small amount of chocolate
and cocoa in proportion to the other ingredients, which proves wise: I find both
David Lebovitz’s Racines cake, from his book Ready for Dessert, and San
Francisco’s Zuni Café’s signature gateau victoire a little too bitter for my
taste, though those with more sophisticated palates may disagree. I do like
Lebovitz’s cocoa nibs, though – these crunchy shards of roasted cocoa bean add
texture and a hit of bitterness to each mouthful. If you can’t find them,
however, they’re not essential.
The sugar
David
Lebovitz’s flourless chocolate cake.
Everyone except Lebovitz uses caster sugar – he goes for granulated, but it
doesn’t seem to make much difference as far as I can tell. The River Café adds
most of the sugar in the form of a syrup, for reasons I don’t entirely
understand, but which someone better at kitchen chemistry than me might be able
to explain – syrups are often used to keep cakes soft and moist, but without
flour, this seems less likely. None of the recipes I try have quite the right
amount of sugar for my liking. Annie Bell’s French and flourless,from her Baking
Bible, is closest, while Lebovitz and Zuni are too bitter, and the River Café
and Gellatly a smidgen too sweet. As well as striking a balance with quantity,
I’m going to sub in a proportion of soft brown sugar too, for a hint of caramel
flavour. I’m surprised that Lebovitz and Gellatly are the only bakers to make
mention of a balancing pinch of salt, which is helpful for rounding out the
flavour of most sweet dishes, but absolutely essential in a rich dish like
this.
The eggs and fats
River
Cafe’s flourless chocolate cake.
Eggs are usually separated and whisked up independently to give the cake a
moussey consistency, which saves it from overwhelming heaviness. The River Café
and Zuni use whole eggs instead, the latter with two extra yolks as well, which
explains why their cakes have the smoothest, densest texture. Gellatly’s cake
contains a far higher proportion of eggs than any other recipe – 11 as opposed
to only four in the Zuni version – which I suspect is why it is incredibly rich
yet surprisingly light. Butter is the fat of choice here; only Zuni chooses
whipped cream instead, diluting the chocolate flavour.
Extras
Annie
Bell’s flourless chocolate cake.
Lebovitz flavours his cake with vanilla essence and espresso, while Zuni uses
just the coffee. Though I can’t pick up much in the way of vanilla, I’m
surprised by how much difference even a little coffee makes – though I’d be
hard-pressed to identify it as a flavour, the bitterness works brilliantly with
that of the chocolate, giving the whole thing greater depth.
Cooking
Zuni’s
flourless chocolate cake.
The River Café and Zuni both bake their versions in a water bath to moderate
the temperature for a creamier result, but as this is still a cake rather than a
mousse, I prefer it to have a little bit of fluffiness to it. Gellatly manages
to achieve both textures in the same dish by baking two-thirds of his mixture
for 30 minutes, cooling it for 20, adding the remainder and putting it back in
the oven for another 20 minutes, so the bottom is drier and lighter and the top
creamy and dense. It’s a really nice idea, but a bit of a faff. Instead, I’m
plumping for something in between the two – a rich, dense chocolate cake with
just enough fluff to make it worthy of the name. (Serves 8-10) 260g dark chocolate, broken into pieces 260g butter 1 tbsp strong coffee 8 eggs, separated 100g soft light brown sugar 160g golden caster sugar 85g cocoa powder ½ tsp salt 2 tbsp cocoa nibs (optional)
Grease a 23cm cake tin and line with greaseproof paper. Melt the chocolate
and butter together in a heatproof bowl set over, but not touching, a pan of
simmering water. Stir until smooth, then stir in the coffee and set aside to
cool slightly. Heat the oven to 160C/320F/gas mark three.
Put the egg yolks and sugars in a food processor and whisk until doubled in
volume. Turn the machine off and sift the cocoa powder on top of the egg mixture
(don’t just dump it in or you’ll get lumps). Add the salt, then mix on a low
speed until the cocoa is well combined.
Put the egg whites in another large bowl and whisk to the soft-peak
stage.
Gently fold the melted chocolate mixture into the egg yolk mixture. Fold a
third of the egg white into the mixture to loosen it before very carefully
folding the rest in, until the mixture is no longer streaky but an even, rich
brown. Sprinkle the cocoa nibs on top, if using.
Spoon into the tin and bake for 40-50 minutes until just set on top, then
allow to cool in the tin on a wire rack. Serve with something tart, such as
creme fraiche.