poffertjes: Dutch buckwheat pancakes

poffertjes (Dutch buckwheat pancakes

These pillowy buckwheat pancakes are light, delicious and really rather indulgent. Even their name is descriptive; "poffertjes" in Dutch sounds a bit like "poffer-juss," which to my mind sounds like pretty fluffy pancakes.

chocolate covered cinder toffee (honeycomb)

chocolate covered cinder toffee

Chocolate covered cinder toffee (known in some parts as honeycomb, puff candy, hokey-pokey, yellowman or seafoam,  but not to be confused with bonfire toffee) brings out my inner child. I love this stuff and could eat it all year around, not just on Bonfire Night. Making it is part cookery and part science project; (I get particularly excited when you add the bicarb to the sugar syrup and it all froths up . . . see what I mean about pleasing my inner child?) Anyway there is much fun to be had by all, and (my favourite type of science, kitchen science) you can eat the results! A really good explanation for the science and magic bit can be found on The Guardian website.

mango with sweet chilli and lime dipping salt - a heavenly taste of the far east

mango with sweet chilli and lime dipping salt

I always seem to buy either mangoes or papayas that aren't quite ripe. I know that you are supposed to gently squeeze them - if they give slightly then they are ripe; if they still feel firm (like a crisp apple) then they are unripe.

boozy rum babas with lemongrass and lime syrup

boozy rum babas drenched in l
emongrass and lime syrup

Have you ever looked through the cookbooks of the 1950's, 60's and 70's? As a child, I would pore over my mother's cookbooks, avidly absorbing the technicolour photographs and the sort of food that inevitably my mother didn't cook. I suspect that my fascination came from the novelty value of the food presentation as well as the magically named dishes. At restaurants, I would choose courses based on how they sounded, (much as I study form on the rare of occasions that I go to the races - which probably explains why I never win anything).

spicy mulled wine plum compote with star anise and cinnamon

spicy mulled wine compote

Back in her stand-up comedy days, the comedienne Jo Brand used to say (and I am editing here as although I have been known to be occasionally foul-mouthed, I don't particularly like reading it), that she didn't eat any fruit at all. She explained that since there was no chocolate in it, there was no point. This has to be a rare occasion when I have to disagree with Jo, as these mulled wine plums are bloody marvellous!

toffee apples for bonfire night (and fulfilling a childhood dream)

crunchy and sticky: toffee apples

As a small child I yearned for toffee apples; for their beautiful enticing shiny jewel-like colour and promise of sickly sweetness. But they were forbidden fruit as my mother refused to buy one for me. This was less because she was mean (hardly) but more that experience suggested that since toffee apples are very sticky, it might end with disaster.  My one and only experience of pink bubble-gum at the age of seven had left my long golden blonde hair in piles around my feet as my head was shaved . . . seriously, don’t ask!

These days, while still a little accident-prone, I decided to make a simple caramel and coated my apples in the vibrant toffee ready for tonight's bonfire party

a zesty plum and allspice crumble (puts a spring in my step!)

zesty plum and allspice nut crumble

So I am bouncing energetically around the kitchen singing "There is nothing like a plum" to the tune of South Pacific's "There is nothing like a dame" while my plum compote is simmering away on the stove. This is my version of multi-tasking and is guaranteed to raise my spirits, even if my adopted cat tries to put her paws over her ears, before stalking off disgruntled to find quieter shores.

But if life can be improved for a few lovelorn, jolly jack tars by day-dreaming of gorgeous girls, I am pretty sure that curvaceous juicy purple plums cooked down with aromatic allspice can do an awful lot for my beating heart too. 

There is simply nothing like a plum.

apple and mincemeat suet dumplings - a little treat for george orwell

apple and mincemeat suet dumplings

How do you submit a recipe for a recipe swap on the subject of LOCAL when your locality seems bereft of any iconic foods? It's time to get creative, or that's what I tried to do recently in a submission for The Guardian's new Cook section and their weekly Readers' Recipe Swap, around the theme of LOCAL.

sweets for your sweet, sugar for your honey: valentine shortbread hearts!

Valentine shortbread hearts:
clementine and dark chocolate

Sweets for my sweet,
Sugar for my honey,
Your first sweet kiss thrilled me so.
Sweets for my sweet,
Sugar for my honey,
I'll never ever let you go.
(Doc Pomus and
Mort Shuman - 1961)

I am not sure whether it is worse to be single on Valentine's Day, or whether it is actually worse to be in a relationship, what with the neon-pink commercialisation that has vanquished all of the dewy-eyed innocence of earlier centuries. But hey ho, it's the thought that counts and this heart-shaped sweet treat works beautifully as a delicious gesture of love, whichever day it is.

tri-fle: (noun) a small thing of little value or importance

Black Forest Trifle
with leftover Christmas pud!

Is it too early to be thinking about Christmas leftovers? (It is never too early for me.) So I just wanted to give you a heads up on an easy but delicious way to use up any leftover Christmas pudding or cake. Personally I think it might actually be nicer than the main event!

This is a very flexible recipe – I used kirsch to moisten the pudding because that’s what I had – but you could use any booze or liqueur. Cointreau of Calvados would work a treat too.

I also had some black cherries preserved in brandy, these topped the pudding, together with cream, clementine zest and some grated chocolate. (If I had had some frozen autumn fruit berries, they would have been rather nice instead.)

nigel slater's mincemeat cheesecake

Nigel Slater's mincemeat cheesecake

I am looking for a fitting use for my very last jar of 2011's homemade mincemeat. Whether I am looking for inspiration, rescue or just a good read, I turn to Nigel Slater. His latest book, Kitchen Diaries II contains a recipe for mincemeat cheesecake (and the recipe can be found here on The Guardian newspaper website).

It looked rather nice, but I have a teensy problem with baked cheesecakes. I have just never made one successfully. Everything is alright until the cheesecake goes in the oven. At which point the damned thing makes a bid for a freedom and oozes out from the bottom of the tin leaving me with a mess of soggy biscuit and an oven to clean. I am grumpy, frustrated and hungry.

how to fix a baking disaster - make magic cookie dust!

Magic cookie dust

Another day, another baking disaster. Welcome to my world.

These days I don't panic, although there is usually quite a lot of swearing involved and occasionally the quaffing of cooking sherry, to aid the recovery process. But usually I don't panic too much. 

I had made the dough for some spicy ginger biscuits. The dough was chilling and I had just put my oven on to pre-heat. My wits were wondering again; although to be fair, I think I should be blaming Eddie Mair, the Radio 4 journalist. He has an awful lot to answer for.

christmas baking:traditional bread pudding (or my cheat's christmas pud! )

traditional British bread pudding
(or my cheat's guide to Christmas pud!

A Best of British blog challenge!
These days if you say "bread pudding" most people assume you are talking about "bread and butter pudding" - layers of sliced stale bread, dotted with dried fruits and butter, and soaked in a custard sauce, before baking. While bread pudding is another member of the frugal baking club as it is made with breadcrumbs and dried fruit, it is actually more like a cake than a pudding and is, to my mind, even nicer.

how to fix a baking disaster: bread and butter pudding

bread and butter pudding

In the scheme of things, flooding, war, hurricanes or volcanic eruptions, my baking misfortune is hardly a disaster. But in the sense that things in my kitchen took a decided turn for the worse, it was a definite catastrophe!

I had found a recipe for a yeasted fruit loaf that I thought might be seasonally festive. It was based on a recipe found in an unpublished 18th century manuscript and was crammed full of dried fruit and spices. So far, so good. I did think that it was more a case of a lot of fruit held together by a little sweet dough, but hey ho.

time to make christmas mincemeat (it's almost stir-up sunday)

Christmas mincemeat 2012

Just in case you may have forgotten, this Sunday (25th November) is Stir-Up Sunday, which according to tradition is the last day to make mincemeat and puddings; giving them time to mature and be ready for Christmas. So this is a little reminder to check your cupboards for supplies and make sure you have everything you need. And if you have never made it before, all I can say is, give it a go. It is very, very simple to assemble (no cooking required) and the end results are delicious.

Since in past years, I have been a little lazy about this, both last year and this year I have decided to get my act together and have already made mine. (I'm not being smug, just relieved that I managed to get organised in time!)

perfect autumn fodder: pear and blackberry crumble

pear and blackberry crumble

C.S. Lewis said that "When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up", which rather sums up my view of the classic crumble. Yes, I know it lacks sophistication, but like many Brits it is still one of my favourite puddings, a love of which began at a very early age and has shown no signs of waning.

an investigation into eton mess

eton mess

My version of Eton Mess is a boozy, nutty (with hazelnut meringues), fruity confection of ambrosial heaven, which should be enough to satisfy any sweet tooth.

When you look for the nascence of Eton Mess, most cookbooks say that it has a 100 year old history originating at Eton College, where it was traditionally served at the annual prize giving and picnic in June. Hmmmn, something smells a little pungent! I just don't believe this story; it seems too romantic and contrived somehow, reminiscent of an Arcadian time before the First World War when everything was full of sunshine and strawberries. The sceptic in me felt compelled to investigate further. This was a job for Detective Kelly!

rhubarb and pink gooseberry crumble

rhubarb crumble

I am rather fond of rhubarb, as much for its sour, yet fruity flavour as for its air of mystery; this is a vegetable that masquerades as a fruit - a cross-dresser in the kitchen. Combined with the eeriness of the Rhubarb Triangle and the unearthly sound of nightly creaking as the rhubarb is forced upwards in the dark is a quality which I find equally thrilling.

a truly chilling ice cream - perfect for halloween parties!

toxic swamp ice-cream for
little monsters everywhere!

Sainsbury's had sent me their new spooky ice cream to sample - Toxic Swamp, a limited edition ice cream available for only three weeks from 12 October. It was created by nine year old Christopher George from Hampshire, winner of the I-Scream competition to devise a creepy ice cream for Halloween.

I decided to do a mini-taste test, on the basis that I probably wasn't the ice cream's demographic (being neither a parent nor a child). I knew my marketing background would come in useful one day!

apple and blackberry crumble

beautiful blackberries

Fruit crumble is one of the ultimate comfort foods, definitely designed for chilly or damp British days. It brings back memories of childish anticipation. To be honest, while I love my savoury food, I could quite easily forgo everything for a bowl of crumble topping and lashings of cream. Unfortunately sanity prevails . . . most of the time!