Big Fat Cheat's Apple Tart

Almost neat

How cool is shop bought puff pastry? So tiring it is, opening the packet and unrolling it out of it's weird blue blanket, I know, but bear with me, this recipe is awesome and super quick, and especially good for people like me who sometimes run out of puff when it comes to pudding. This can all be done in advance and left on the side (or precariously balanced on top of the drying up pile on the draining board) until 20 minutes before it is required, perfect. Based on a Nigella recipe from Nigella Express. I'm posting it because although it's incredibly easy, it took me a year to try it, and once I had done it once, I've wopped it out several times with no stress and lots of success.

Ice-cream isn't an option

Feeds 6. Core 4 apples (don't peel, the skin looks pretty). Cut in half and place in a bowl with a big squeeze of lemon juice in it to stop them apples going brown. Pre-heat oven to 180c. Unroll one sheet of (gasp) shop bought puff pastry and score it (lightly, don't cut through) an inch from the edge, all around, so you have a border. Sprinkle the pastry with a big tbsp sugar and slice the apples as thinly as you can. Now neatly lay the apples on the pastry as pictured above. Not used to being so precise but it's quite fun and satisfying. Just before you put it in the oven (if you've made it in advance, do wait for this bit), melt a knob of butter with a tablespoon of sugar, once bubbling and dissolved, carefully pour over the apples. Bake for 20 minutes, or until the pastry is golden brown.

It's great hot but also good cold. Just make sure you eat it with ice-cream.

What on Earth do you do with a Quince (apart from make jelly)?!

Never turn down free fruit in the pub.

This has been an increasingly pressing question on my mind recently; a week ago I had a snifter with Dad after work in the local (he took great offence when I suggested it might be better to turn up at the office for said snifter a little later than the ten to five he usually pops up at) and he presented me with a bag of quinces. Which I found quite amusing. What was even more amusing was that I asked my friend Sophie who was also present if she'd like a quince. She rolled her eyes and said 'Don't even get me started on bloody QUINCES!!!' Apparently my Dad wasn't the only parent trying to offload the produce of this years glut. So anyway, I didn't fancy jelly and couldn't be bothered to make membranillo to go with my favourite cheese Manchego (but maybe I will have to be bothered as I just found THREE MORE QUINCES in my fruit bowl aaarrgghh!). I was a bit stuck, and then I had a brilliant moment, when I stared at the duck legs in the fridge, flicked open Clarissa-Two-Fat-Ladies' game book and there it was: duck with quince. It was meant to be. That was a long winded intro, apologies. Clarissa's recipe involves stuffing a whole Mallard with wedges of quince, so I adapted it a bit, a little apprehensive, as I had never, ever, cooked with quince, but where would be the fun in doing the same old thing every day? I was on holiday with the rentals in a heavenly cottage in Cornwall and was feeling brave.

A rather English affair.

Feeds four. Pre-heat the oven to 180c, or if using an Aga for the first time ever like I was, erm, do nothing. Peel two quinces, or is it two quince? Who cares. They are quite tough to peel, or maybe it was the holiday cottage peeler. Or maybe holiday wine. Get a baking tray big enough to hold 4 duck legs, cut the quince into quarters and cut the core out. Toss in a little olive oil with seasoning and lay the duck legs over the quince int he baking tray. Season the duck and rub with the tiniest smidgeon of olive oil. Roast for approx 1 hour, maybe a bit less, the quince is very clever and turns pink when cooked. It should be tender like a cooked potato and the duck wants to be crispy-skinned and nice and tender. Baste it every now and again to help keep it moist. Nothing worse than a tough duck. Except raw quince. Serve with whatever you like, I did roasted potato, onion and courgette slices. It was gert lush, even if I do say so myself.

I was genuinely worried about this supper but was happily pleased with the results. The duck was tender and stringy, and the quince was not too sweet, not too soggy, and had a very subtle bitterness that made me think of black olives. And there wasn't a runcible spoon in sight!

Cardoman Caramel Oranges

Like a giant sweetie

Although I'm no pudding fiend, a little taste of something sweet at the end of a meal always goes down well. When there may not be room for a big old bowl of desert, there is always room for this dish which is less like a pudding and more like a jewelled twinkly offering pulled out from the fridge just before serving. It can be made in advance making it great for when you are entertaining, and just looks so damn pretty! It's based on Nigella's recipe, which I came across by accident, when dreaming of the orange cardoman pud the Boyfriend's mum makes. It turns out orange and cardoman are a very happy marriage.

Suitably bashed pods

Serves four. Remove the skin and pith from four sweet oranges, and slice into rounds approx half a cm thick. Arrange in a shallow bowl/dish so they all lie flat and in a single layer. Bash 6 cardoman pods and add to a saucepan with 400g caster sugar and 200ml water, bring to the boil, swirling (don't stir) to dissolve and let it simmer until the mixture turns a lovely amber colour. Cue a bit of impatience and 'is it amber yet??' and my friend Hannah asking 'Do you ever just want to stick your finger in the pan to see how much it will hurt?'. No Hannah. No. Once it has changed colour, quickly (but carefully) pour over the oranges and stick in the fridge until needed. The oranges become encased in the cardoman scented, now hard barley sugar-like caramel. Nigella serves it with Greek yoghurt but I like it on it's own.

Probably a good idea to keep people like Hannah out of the kitchen when you make this.

Pud Tastes Better When it comes from a Ramekin



Well I think it does anyway, it's like a little personalised pot of sugary joy and no matter how full I am from previous courses, if it comes in a ramekin and is placed in front of me, I will eat it.

I rarely invent recipes entirely, rather modify other people's work to suit me better (the corner shop at the end of the road can seem sooo far away sometimes), be it financially or gastronomically. The nice thing about this pudding is that is looks quite pretty, and you can change the filling to suite the contents of your fridge, or fruit bowl.



There's always room for a ramekin...

So this is a recipe for spiced strawberry and apple  meringue pots (similar fruit component to what went into the trendy pavlova), but you could put any fruit combo in, apple and blackberry, pear, rhubarb, it would all be great. For this filling I poached some chopped strawberries and apples (do peel the apples) in a bit of red wine, with about 2 tbsp sugar, a cinnamon stick, a star anise and some orange peel. You probably only want to just cover the fruit with the wine, otherwise it will be too wet when in the pot. Simmer until the apple has softened and taste it for sweetness and spice, adding more sugar if it needs it. Remove the spices and orange peel. That bit is done, now whisk two egg whites with 25g golden caster sugar until stiff. Then add another 25g sugar and fold. Fill four ramekins halfway with the poached fruit and place on top a layer of fresh sliced strawberries. Top with meringue mix, make it look pretty with a flamboyant flick of the wrist swirl, and bake for 10 minutes until golden on top. Serve immediately. Everything but the baking can be done in advance.

Dig in, be careful not to burn your mouth, and enjoy a bit of ramekin love.

Bus Stop Tart



Sounds a bit naughty but it's actually very nice in an 'I'll just cut off another tiny piece and eat it' kind of way. This is a Spanish recipe for Seville Orange Tart or if you prefer Tarta de naranjas sevillanas. Yeah that sounds good. As a previous post confirms, I do not make sweet pastry any more. No point when the supermarket does it so well, so all this is really, is a recipe for a delicious tart filling.





Tart waiting for the bus



Pre-heat the oven to 240. Mix together, in a saucepan, the following ingedients: 140g caster sugar, 170ml Seville orange juice (it does make a difference using Seville oranges as they are very sour and it stops the tart being too sweet, but normal will do if you can't get them), 170g cubed unsalted butter, 4 egg yolks, 2 eggs, grated zest of half an orange. All you have to do is stir gently over a gentle heat. This may sound simple but the temptation to wack the heat up to hurry up the custardizing (yes, a real word, in my world) process is great. RESIST! If you fail to follow these simple instructions it will curdle. No-one wants scrambled eggs in their orange tart now, do they? After about 20 mins it will suddenly thicken and it is ready. Pour into the shop bought pastry case and bake for 10 minutes but check it doesn't burn. It wants to go brown on the edges (and looks more home-made that way, bonus). Cool before serving. Great with a blob of creme fraiche.

Then run to the bus stop with it wrapped in foil, nearly losing it a few times. Whatever you do, don't leave it at the bus stop.



Trendy Pavlova

Puddings scare me a bit, often you can't just bung things in a bowl willy nilly, instructions have to be adhered to, measurements obeyed, temperatures checked and tempers tested. Plus I am more of a starter and main kind of girl, usually preferring cheese to something sweet. However, in the last year or so, I have been a bit braver, and less lazy, (I normally run out of enthusiasm by the time I get to deciding on a pud, reaching for the desert section in the supermarket) and tackled a few recipes, with surprisingly pleasing results. I think my chest was more puffed up after this one, than the meringue. 

I had a load of egg whites left over in the fridge from the semi disaster Seville Orange tart (pastry case I had spent ages making snapped in half), and couldn't face binning them, and also couldn't face egg white omlettes, and couldn't think what else to make apart from meringue. Then I watched the lovely Baking Made Easy lady on BBC2 and was inpired to make her spiced blackberry, apple and pear pavlova. I am 28 and I had never made meringue previous to this and it was about time. Full recipe can be found here (its not my recipe, and I followed it devotedly so you might as well see the proper recipe): http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/recipes/spiced_blackberry_pear_14830

Everyone says meringue is easy, but I tried to make it with a nearly-dying hand held single electric whisk that got so hot I did have concerns about it blowing up. Forget yolks, bits of kitchen machinery in my egg whites would have ruined it for sure. I think I was whisking for about 25 minutes, no joke, (I am about to buy proper electric beaters so I can reduce that time by about, oh, 20 minutes) but I was determined to make it work. Boyfriend is a bit of an expert on meringe, it's the one pudding he likes, and he made a meringue skeleton to carry round in his home made coffin for Halloween. Obviously. When the whites seemed 'nearly there' he kept offering little helpful hints, such as 'Yeah that's what they looked like when I did it, but they wouldn't go any firmer than that' and 'You may as well give up.' Well I didn't, I had to wrap the handle of the whisk in a tea towel to prevent serious burns, but I did it. Tenacity is my family motto and very fitting it is too. 

After the meringue trauma it was all very easy, once meringue was in the oven, it was all poaching fruit in wine, cinnamon, orange  peel and juice, and star anise, whisking up some whipping cream (noooooooo) with vanilla seeds, and then artfully blobbing it all on top. Not sure it was worth the risk of 3rd degree burns, but next time I'll have proper beaters. Tasted great, and more importantly it was real pretty.