Fixing a brownie problem

I noticed to my surprise the other day that I only have one entry on this blog tagged as 'brownies'. It's possible I made a couple in the early days before I started tagging my posts, but still - that must be at least ten months with no blog-worthy brownies. Surely this is impossible - some brownie-hating little blog fiend must have been swallowing up my posts. But the more I thought about it the more I realised that blogging has made me want to try out new things every time I bake, and the old tried and trusteds have fallen by the wayside. When those tried and trusteds are brownies this is surely a travesty of the highest order which must be rectified immediately.


Luckily, I had an excuse. When we were in Leeds visiting Munchkin Gramps and family a few weeks ago we went into a posh little bakery in the Corn Exchange. It was a Sunday and very quiet, and the young man in there - who also did all the baking - let us taste lots of things. While the others were making appreciative noises about the very non-veggie-friendly lime jelly covered cheesecake, I was looking around, and noticed some manger-shaped brownie cakes filled with some sort of luscious chocolate ganache. When I pointed them out to The Scientist (once the distraction of the cheesecake had been dispatched) he looked very interested and suggested that they could be a good offering for a gaming night.


This weekend was the one. I knew I wanted to make little cakes with proper finished edges rather than slices from a big cake, and so I chose a recipe I'd cut out from a magazine for a brownie cake. It differed from other brownies I'd made because you separate the eggs, whisk the whites and fold them into the mixture at the final stage. Does that make it a cake and not a brownie? Who knows. As a joky nod to the fact that The Scientist has gone gaming over Valentine's Day (not a problem AND he sent me flowers as a surprise before he went), I baked them in heart-shaped moulds, and they looked pretty cute. I must admit that I never got as far as the ganache. I was going to make chocolate buttercream which is The Scientist's favourite, but I was just too tired in the end after a busy week, and we decided there was enough chocolate involved. But if I were making them to woo my beloved at a homey Valentine's supper, I might go the extra hog (sugar-induced coma - always a romantic end to a night).

When I thought more about it I did remember a few more brownies which have graced our oven in the last year. There was Dogophile Vegan Nurse's vegan brownies for one. And the golden syrup-based ones which Noodle helped me make. And I tried some black-beany ones which I rediscovered in the freezer the other day and which are a little odd (I am forced to concede that beans don't improve *everything*). And there was another more recent batch which had Celebrations chocolates baked into it which I planned to post about but which didn't photograph too well. I was relieved to think that the dearth hasn't been quite as bad as I'd feared, but it's good to put a conclusive stamp on it by selecting 'brownie' as I tag this post.

Mini chocolate brownie cakes (from ?? - oh dear, I must start labelling where the recipes in my folder came from. I suspect the Sainsbury's Magazine)

Serves 10

175g unsalted butter plus extra for greasing
225g dark chocolate, broken into pieces
200g caster sugar
3 medium eggs, separated
65g plain flour
50g chopped pecan nuts [I left these out; one of The Scientist's gamer friends has a nut allergy]

Heat oven to 180C/Fan 160C/Gas 4. Butter a 20-25 cm cake tin and line with greaseproof paper. Or, do as I did and use a silicon muffin pan.

Place 175g of the chocolate, plus the butter and sugar in a saucepan and heat gently until melted, stirring occasionally. Leave to cool [I wouldn't skip this - the eggs might scramble and that wouldn't be pretty]

Whisk the egg yolks into the chocolate mixture, then add the flour, nuts and the remaining chocolate.

Whisk the egg whites until they form soft peaks, then gently, but thoroughly, fold into the chocolate mixture.

Pour into the prepared tin(s) and bake in the centre of the oven for about 35-40 minutes, until crusty on top. I set the timer for 20 minutes for my little muffins and then started checking on them at 5 minute intervals. They probably still took close on to half an hour but everything takes a long time in our oven. Leave to cool, then turn out. The recipe suggests dusting with icing sugar and serving warm with custard or cold with cream.

Winter apple loaf

Just a quick post tonight - hectic day, plus my old college is on University Challenge as I type! This is the bread that we ate with our roast chestnut soup. It's another Dan Lepard recipe from his How to Bake column in the Guardian. It's a yeasted bread but it had the texture of a soda bread (though perhaps I was tricked by the fact that it's baked in the same shape as a soda bread). Either way I wasn't complaining - I love soda bread, and I loved this bread too. It was nice and wholesome with the malted flour and seeds, but with a nice sweetness from the apple. It complemented the chestnut and apple soup too. The Scientist found it slightly doughy which was a shame - I could see what he meant and it probably needed slightly longer in the oven though it had even a bit more than its time because I was in the middle of a work task when the oven timer went off! I froze what we didn't eat with the soup and have been eating it as toast and sandwiches. I was sorry when it was all gone and will definitely make it again.

Apple bread with random counter-top accessories!

Better go - my alma mater looks as though it needs all the support it can get!

Winter apple bread, recipe here

Roast chestnut, apple and parsnip soup

It's been a bit of a crazy old week, this one. Our semester started, so that meant lecturing and sorting out admin, we have a HUGE admin deadline coming up at work to revalidate our whole undergraduate programme, and a whole load of snow dumped itself on our doorstep at the start of the week. It does make me wonder how so many parts of the world cope so perfectly well with proper snow for half the year, when you see what a bit does to us. Norse God - how do you manage? Fortunately I was able to hunker down in the house with a heater and a hot water bottle (shaped like Bagpuss since you ask - much more snuggly) for most of the week, but on Thursday I had to brave the outside to get in for teaching. I left extra early, assuming that I wouldn't be able to cycle most of the way to the station, and the whole neighbourhood was beautifully white but eerily quiet. The snow had deadened all the sound, and since almost everyone else seemed to have decided to follow the hunkering down option I was practically the only person out, making shamefully mundane tracks in the virgin white snow. I did get on my bike once I was down on the main road, but even there it was very slushy and snowy, and all the cars were going at snail pace. Anyway, I got in ok which is more than some of my students who were still coming back to university from home managed.


All this is to say a) do you miss us and our weather, Kiwi Family?! and b) it is most definitely the weather for warming wintry soups. I've been wanting to try some savoury dishes using chestnuts for a while, and this recipe fortuitously appeared in a magazine recently (I think it was Sainsbury's magazine though I wouldn't swear to it). I don't generally like nuts, and chestnuts come up tediously regularly every Christmas as suggested vegetarian options so I've been a bit put off. But I'm trying to vary my intake of 'good fats' and liked the softer texture that chestnuts have compared with other nuts. They are also the lowest fat of the nuts, just for info. This soup teamed them up with parsnip, which we had just got in our veg box, and apples, which I would eat at every meal if I could. It took a bit of work to track down the chestnuts at the supermarket (they appear for Christmas and then gracefully retire for 11 months) but I was lucky and found some leftover seasonal boxes which were reduced.

This was a very good wintry, hearty, sweetish soup. I really liked the combination of sweet apple, creamy chestnut and distinctly flavoursome parsnip, and The Scientist was a fan too. We ate it with some apple and cider bread which I will post about soon as well. This is a soup I will definitely return to - but possibly not until chestnuts reappear in the supermarkets next December!!

Roast chestnuts, apple and parsnip soup (from Sainsbury's magazine, I think)
Makes 8 small cups or 4 regular servings

25g butter (I used less)
2 medium parsnips, peeled and chopped
2 celery stalks, chopped
2 apples, peeled, cored and chopped
1 x 200g pack roasted chestnuts, roughly chopped (I followed the directions on the box to pierce the vacuum pack and microwave briefly first)
800ml hot stock

Melt the butter in a large pan and add the parsnips, celery and seasoning [I was a bit puzzled about this direction as there didn't seem to be any extra seasonings in the ingredients list. I tasted and seasoned as I went along though I have to admit that I can't remember exactly what herbs I added). Stir over a high heat for 4-6 minutes until the vegetables are lightly golden. Tip in the apples and cook, stirring occasionally, for another 4-5 minutes. Add the chestnuts, pour in the stock and simmer. Cook for another 5-10 minutes until the parsnips are tender, then remove from the heat. Using a blender, liquidise the soup until smooth. Return to the pan and adjust the seasoning. Thin with more water if you prefer it thinner, and serve with an optional swirl of cream.

Sweet sweet potato falafel

I feel a particular attachment to falafel as I feel that they must be part of my culinary culture as a Jew. Our relatives were from Eastern Europe so they're not exactly part of our own cultural cuisine, but with morsels as tasty as that I am prepared to invoke a sort of innate predisposition. Falafel stands are ubiquitous in Israeli towns, and are a brilliant standby for hungry backpacking vegetarians (nay, even vegans as long as you're careful about the dressings). There's a little falafel takeaway joint in the parade of shops near Israel Grandma's flat, and one time I was there I went on an errand to pick some up for everyone. Each portion is a big round pitta - not at all like the elongated tear-drop shaped ones you get from the supermarket here (I like them so much that I've been known to bring packets of them back in my suitcase). Into this goes a load of salad - always including very finely cut up tomato and cucumber - a few big round wonderfully greasy and fragrant falafel, and your choice of extra condiments, chillis, and sauces. I always pick hummus, but tahini dressing is another alternative. It's all wrapped up in a serviette so you don't get completely covered in hummus and grease, and there you are - a tasty, filling and vegetarian-friendly meal on the hoof.

I've posted before about my home-made falafel which are really only Anglicised and healthied up cousins of the real things, but which are equally tasty in a different way. When I saw a post on A Spoonful of Sugar about sweet potato falafel from London health-food take-away chain Leon I leapt to the opportunity to combine one of my favourite foods with one of my favourite vegetables. The falafel are made of mashed roast sweet potato, seasoned well and bound together with chickpea flour to retain some of the taste/spirit of the chickpeas in falafel. They sounded so tasty that immediately I promoted them to the menu for Munchkin Granny's birthday dinner, which took place last weekend. She saw the bookmarked recipe on my laptop and thought it sounded good, so was very pleased to hear it was going to appear on her plate.


I have to admit that I microwaved the potatoes - I just can't bring myself to heat the oven for just a few little spuds, and I didn't need it for anything else. Since it's the skin that benefits most from oven baking though, I don't think it lost out. I also didn't want to buy chickpea flour just for one recipe so I ground up dried chickpeas in my coffee grinder. It probably wasn't quite as fine as bought flour but I quite liked the added texture. And that's all that needs saying about the recipe really - it was very easy and very tasty indeed. I served the sesame-seed-topped falafel with the quick mango chutney from Veganomicon, fried halloumi and some shredded and stir fried sprouts with lemon and almonds. We all liked all the components and we'll definitely be making the falafel again.

For dessert I made cider and ginger poached pear with orange shortbread, but my photos were so awful that I will just have to say that they were tasty too. I just can't get the hang of food photography in the winter evenings. I particularly liked the gingery poaching liquid poured over the top of the pears, but I think that the fifteen minutes the recipe gave for poaching was wrong by a factor of three or so! My pears were rather hard and presented a bit of a danger to one's dignity when trying to eat them with a spoon out of a bowl. Still, Munchkin Granny took them in the birthday spirit they were intended!

I hadn't heard of Leon before I read Angela's post but I'm keen to try them out next time I'm in London now. The link features their menus - look out for those falafel! The menu (featured in The Guardian is here)

Saffron and basil breadsticks - belatedly

Oh dear - our semester doesn't start until next week and already it's proving hard to find time for blogging! This is a post which has been waiting to be written for ages - since the Night Before Christmas in fact (yes truly!). I actually made it with a mind to sending it in for December's Bread Baking Day which had seasonal breads as a theme that year. I even managed to make it just in time for the deadline - and then completely forgot to post about it. Sigh. Still, I didn't forget to take it with us to Granny T's, where it was destined to be a contribution to our Christmas Eve dinner. I didn't want to make anything very sweet which most Christmassy breads seem to be, so in the end I decided to make some breadsticks spiced up with one of the flavours traditional in festive and enriched breads: saffron. The basil was from my increasingly straggly home-grown pot, but it stood up to give a sturdy tastiness against the subtle fragrance of the saffron. I was guided by The Scientist's preference for crunchy breadsticks but you could easily take them out of the oven a bit sooner if you like them softer. Or you could make them thicker to make them breadier still. All this time later I can't actually remember what we ate them with, but they were very popular and have been marked down to try with a whole lot of other flavours in the future: garlic would be great, as would a tasty cheese I should think. Meanwhile you can see the seasonal breads which did make the deadline over at Annarasa's blog!



Saffron and basil breadsticks (from Martha Day's Complete Baking)
Makes 32 sticks

generous pinch of saffron strands (or turmeric if unavailable)
2 tbsp hot water
450g strong white flour
1 tsp salt
2 tsp easy-blend dried yeast
1/2 pint lukewarm water
3 tbsp olive oil
3 tbsp chopped fresh basil

Infuse the saffron strands in the hot water for 10 mins
Sift the flour and salt into a large mixing bowl. Stir in the yeast, then make a well in the centre of the dry ingredients. Pour in the lukewarm water and saffron liquid.
Add the oil and basil and mix to a soft dough
Turn out and knead the dough on a lightly floured surface for about 10 mins until smooth and elastic. Place in a greased bowl, cover with clear film and leave for about 1 hour until it has doubled in size.
Knock back and knead the dough on a lightly floured surface for 2-3 mins
Preheat the oven to 220C/Gas 7. Divide the dough into 32 pieces and shape into long sticks. Place well apart on greased baking trays, then leave for a further 15=20 minutes until they become puffy. Bake for about 15 mins until crisp and golden. Serve warm.

Parnip and lemon couscous - in the spirit of Burns night

Neither The Scientist nor I is Scottish, have lived in Scotland or indeed have been to Scotland together. However, we do like to have a little celebration for Burn's Night - because it's the night we first met. I know, awww (or alternatively, bleurgh). Our eyes first met amid a reel at a Burn's Night dinner and ceilidh at my college in Cambridge, where The Scientist had been brought by our mutual friend Vicki. After the ceilidh we all retreated to the MCR (common room for graduate students, with added rah because it's in Cambridge) where The Scientist and I talked for hours about the romance of sleeping under the stars. It was a memorable evening, although I still think he should have given up his chair to me instead of making me sit on the floor :) We didn't get together for another few months but things were definitely set on the path of eventual cat-ownership that night.


Our Burn's Night celebrations aren't terribly traditional - certainly not as traditional as the college dinner that night was. We sometimes manage neeps or tatties, and occasionally both, but I've never tried making - or even buying - a veggie haggis. This year our dinner was definitely more in the 'spirit' of Burn's Night than the actual letter. We'd been away for the weekend, you see, and we had most of our neep-less veggie box still to get through, so I subbed parsnip. It's a root vegetable after all. The Scientist was still fuelled up on the huge leisurely breakfast he'd had at the hotel that morning so we wanted to eat quite small. I looked up parsnip in my newly devised card classification system and settled on a lemon and parsnip couscous from the Riverford Cookbook. It was pretty easy anyway but I made it even easier by simply soaking the couscous and cut out the oil it would have been mixed with as well. The recipe called for boiling the parsnip which didn't seem to me to be as flavourful as roasting it but I went with it and it was nice. The lemon raised the dish to a much more interesting level and gave it a nice fresh zing. So, not a particularly Scottish dish, but enough to make us remember our more authentic dinner all those years ago. And yes, we have shared many a night's sky together since then - although we do still need to make a trip north of the border together :)

Lemon parsnip couscous - based on Riverford
Serves 2 as a main dish

2 parsnips, peeled and chopped into bite-sized pieces
100g couscous
juice and zest of one lemon
1 tsp or so parsley and coriander (would have used mint as well but we didn't have any)

Cover the couscous with hot stock and leave for ten minutes or so. Add more liquid if it seems to absorb it very fast.
Bring a pan of water to the boil and simmer the parsnip for about ten minutes or until soft.
Fluff up the couscous, add the parsnip, lemon zest and juice, and herbs. Stir to combine flavours and serve topped with toasted sunflower seeds.

To have one's fruit - and dry it

Dried apple rings are my favourite snacks and I get through loads of them. They have no added sugar but because you only eat a ring at a time you don't get the massive fruit-sugar high you can accidentally get by eating a whole box of raisins (which, believe me, I could - I love ALL dried fruit). Recently I noticed that my dried apples came from China though, and that made me sad as I try really hard only to buy European, and preferably British fruit to keep down their carbon footprint. I've been thinking about whether it was worth buying a food dehydrator ever since a friend told me how much she loved her's but it never seemed like a very cost-effective thing to do. I was pretty sure it would fall into disuse and just take up space. With my new-found worry about the impact of my beloved dried apple on the environment though I decided to take the plunge.


I looked around on the internet and settled on one from this company. I think they may have changed their exact range since I ordered, but you get the idea. You can dry all sorts of fruit in it, plus vegetables and herbs - and meat and fish, should you wish to do so. You can also dry fruit purees to make fruit leather which I mean to try some time soon as well. The dehydrator arrived really quickly - in fact it turned up by special delivery much earlier than our usual post, and while The Scientist was in the shower, so he came down to find loads of mystery white trays drying on the draining board with no apparent source of delivery! The trays are filled and stacked - as many as you want although it's more energy efficient to do quite a few at once. The top has a motor in it which dries the contents over a long period of time.


My first attempt at dehydration was, of course, apples. I tried two different types of apples, and also threw in a pear which was hanging around in the fruit bowl. I washed them all, sliced them quite thinly and dried them for the full recommended 8 hours. Lesson 1: coring an apple with a knife is a pain in the neck and it's much easier just to slice them and then cut out the hard bits. And no, I'm not adding further to our repertoire of single-use gadgets by buying a corer :)


The home-dried apples were a lot thinner and drier than the ones I'm used to, but they had an amazing apple flavour. The pears were actually by far the best as they kept a bit more moisture. For my next batch I tried drying the apples for a shorter time - more like 5 or 6 hours, and this time I used less thinly-sliced apple, and banana. I liked the thicker apple slices better but they were still a bit chewier and drier than I would like. The bananas were amazing though, especially when they were still warm - little bites of intense chewy banana flavour. They didn't last long. Just now I am drying some thicker slices still of apple and pear, and I mean to take them out after a shorter time again. I'm not sure what the impact on their keeping power will be, though that's not usually a problem round here.


So I have still to replicate my bought dried apple rings but I'm making progress and it's fun trying out other types of fruit. I like the idea of being able to dry anything in season - I mean to buy big batches of tomatoes and dry them later in the year. It is quite a big machine though, and I have yet to find a proper home for it when it's not in use. It's also quite noisy so you can really only set it running when you're not going to be in the next room all afternoon. And I do want to find out how much energy it uses since it's on so long. I just hope it's less than flying the bought ones over from China!