Hot Cross Buns – and an Invitation to Commit Gluttony (again)!

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Hot Cross Buns are traditionally eaten on Good Friday. These ones will lead you into temptation. This recipe was first published in April 2012.

As a child, one of the great treats of staying with my Gran in Cork City was that her local bakery produced great Hot Cross Buns at Easter. Maybe my taste buds are suffering from nostalgia, but I haven’t been able to find a bakery since that can produce a bun of comparable deliciousness. Many commercial versions taste like a mouthful of sawdust – a penance indeed. Experience has taught me that these Easter buns are a creation often best baked at home.

Easter is thought to be named after the Anglo-Saxon goddess of Spring, Eastre, and some believe this sweet spiced bread was baked in her honour. It makes much more sense to me that these sticky treats are a celebration of springtime and abundance to come rather than an invitation to commit Gluttony in the dying days of Lent. Whatever you believe, they are delicious.

For 12 tempting buns, you will need...

... to preheat the oven to 190°C at step 7

For the dough

500g strong white flour (bread flour)

1 teaspoon fine table salt

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1 teaspoon grated orange zest

1 sachet of dried yeast (7g)

1 tablespoon olive oil

75g ready-to-eat dried apricots, cut into small pieces (about the size of sultanas)

50g sultanas

75g honey*

300mls fresh milk

1 large egg, beaten 

a little extra olive oil for oiling the work surface and your hands for kneading

For the cross decoration

2 tablespoons plain flour

2 tablespoons water 

For the honey glaze

One tablespoon runny honey, warmed (I put it in a heatproof bowl and stand the bowl in hot water).

Remember that scene from Fried Green Tomatoes...

Into a large bowl, put the flour, salt, ground cinnamon, orange zest, dried yeast, olive oil, dried apricots and sultanas. Mix to combine.

*Weigh the honey directly into a small saucepan and add the milk. Warm the milk to between 27°C - 35°C (this is when a finger dipped in the milk will feel neither hot nor cold – but best to use a thermometer).

Make a well in the centre of the flour mixture and add the beaten egg, and about half the milk. Mix with a wooden spoon or spatula and continue adding the milk until you have a soft dough and no dry flour remains. You may not need to use all the milk. Continue mixing until the fruit is well distributed throughout the dough. (You could use a stand mixer with a dough hook either.)

I am shifting more and more towards the no-knead method so I simply cover the dough with a lightly oiled sheet of cling film and leave it in a warm place to rise until doubled in size. (If you prefer, knead it by hand for about 8 minutes or in your stand mixer for about 4 minutes before covering and leaving to rise.)

After the dough has risen, turn it out onto a lightly oiled work surface, and knock it back. (This simply means giving it a couple of jabs with your fists to remove most of the air so you can form it into its final shape.) Knead lightly for a minute or so, before dividing into 12 equal portions. Roll each portion into a ball on the oiled surface, and flatten slightly into a bun shape. Line a baking tray with non-stick baking parchment and gently transfer the buns to the tray. Cover the buns with lightly oiled cling film and leave in a warm place, until once again doubled in size. Make sure the buns have plenty of room to rise.

Meanwhile, make the paste for the cross by mixing together the flour and water - you want a smooth paste with a consistency similar to porridge.

When the dough has once more doubled in size, remove the cling film. Carefully pipe the cross shape onto each bun. Transfer to the pre-heated oven and bake for 10 – 12 minutes or until golden brown. Transfer the buns to a cooling rack and immediately brush them with warmed honey.

An orange blossom honey makes the perfect glaze

It is considered good luck to share these buns and the cinnamon and orange make them particularly good with coffee so what better excuse to invite some friends over! 

Lead me not into temptation... well, perhaps just the once!

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Tomato and Carrot Soup – bloomin’ luverly!

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As a small child, himself knew his great grandmother, a Victorian lady who apparently had a habit of going around with her skirt tucked into her bloomers. Her great grandson remembers that she adored tomato soup, which she would sop up with chunks of bread. I never met her, but I have a vision of a Queen Victoria-like figure schlurping up her soup, then wiping her tomato-stained gob with a lace-cuffed sleeve – a sort of Eliza Doolittle character.

I asked if the Victorian’s soup was likely to have been homemade. Himself is inclined to believe that it was tinned.

Tastes like this!

Today’s recipe is homemade… from a tin - or rather a carton. That might seem a contradiction in terms however, unless you have a fantastic supply of sun-ripened San Marzano tomatoes, you’re much more likely to get the best flavour for soups and sauces from pasata (sieved tomato pulp) or tinned tomatoes. Look for brands with a conscience and go for products with nothing added. There should only be one ingredient on the label. Tomatoes!

For 6 – 8 portions of bloomin’ luverly tomato soup you will need…

3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

3 carrots, finely sliced

1 onion, finely chopped

2 potatoes, peeled and finely diced (approximately 250g prepared weight)

1 fat clove of garlic, chopped

750ml pasata (or 2 x 400g tins of chopped tomatoes)

750mls chicken stock or vegetable stock

1 teaspoon of fresh thyme (or ½ teaspoon of dried thyme)

½ teaspoon sugar

salt and pepper to taste

Method

Heat the olive oil in a large saucepan over a medium heat. Add the carrot and onion. Give them a quick stir to coat them with the hot oil then turn down the heat, cover and allow to cook gently without colouring for about 8 minutes. Next, add the diced potato and chopped garlic, stir and once again, cover and this time allow them to cook for about 4 minutes.

Next add the pasata, stock, thyme and sugar. Turn up the heat until the liquid comes to simmering. Lower the heat, cover and allow to simmer gently for about 15 minutes or until the vegetables are tender.

Blend the contents of the saucepan to a smooth cream – a stick blender is perfect. Taste and add salt and pepper to suit your palate.

Serve with crusty bread.

I scattered the top of the soup with a little proscuitto and some finely chopped fresh celery leaves. 

Other toppings I like for this soup are shredded fresh basil; Parmesan croutons with fried bacon bits; or a simple swirl of crème fraiche, though I'm not beyond following the Victorian's example!

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Lemon, Rosemary and Almond Curd - Here comes the sun!

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There’s nothing like a wet Sunday is there? It is such a contradiction in terms. Hey weather, pin back your ears. Sunday … SUN Day … geddit? Nope, obviously not listening.

Well, I can’t go for my walk, I’ve finished my book; there’s nothing to my liking on the telly. A wet Sunday is a day for pottering; for tidying; for doing things that have been put on the long finger; for remembering things I’ve promised to do but never quite gotten around to doing. I’ve just remembered I promised my sister-in-law my lemon curd recipe – eeek more than two years ago! Now would be a good time to cough up the goods.

Lemon curd is not difficult - it just needs about half an hour of your time and patience to magic a few simple ingredients into a puddle of liquid sunshine that you can turn into all sorts of deliciousness once it has cooled and set. 

Ok, you've captured a jar or two of sunshine. So now what? Well, I love it spooned into Greek yoghurt for breakfast; spread on toast; swirled through whipped cream and used to fill a meringue case, then topped with strawberries or blueberries or both, and applied to mouth. Swap it for jam... particularly in a Bakewell Tart – lemon and almond are best buddies. Use it to fill a sponge or to top a cheesecake. Make it now and you'll have it ready to take out of the fridge to spread on the crepes you’ve planned to make on Pancake Tuesday, just around the corner.  Or simply pop a spoonful in your mouth at any time for an instant good mood.

(Use unwaxed lemons or give the skins a good scrub under hot water before using.)

For approximately 500ml sunny lemon curd you will need…

250g caster sugar
75g butter, melted and cooled to room temperature
6 eggs (at room temperature), beaten
the finely grated zest and juice of 3 of the best lemons you can get your hands on (you should have 150ml juice in total)
¼ teaspoon almond extract
a sprig of rosemary, lightly bruised
a pinch of salt

Put everything in a medium saucepan over a low heat. Stir gently and constantly for about 15-20 minutes or so until the mixture has thickened to the consistency of pourable custard. At no point should the mixture boil so don't be tempted to turn up the heat to hurry the process or you'll have lemony scrambled eggs. (You could also cook the mixture in a heatproof glass bowl over - but not touching - simmering water).

Once the mixture has thickened, pass it through a sieve to remove the rosemary and the grated lemon zest. Pour into sterilized jars. It will thicken up further on cooling. Seal and refrigerate for up to a month. 

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Carrot, Coconut & Cardamom Soup... conspiring to comfort !

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I am studiously avoiding the bathroom scales because I know that after a Christmas of feasting it will more than likely say: “Gerroff, ya great lump!”

I got brilliant advice from a friend on how to lose weight instantly: “Turn the scales back 5kg on the 1st of January!” Unfortunately my bathroom scales are digital and they refuse to tell even the whitest of white lies. L If I’m to swap the slightly cuddlier post-Christmas me for a healthier lower-fat me ‘lite’, then it will be down to diet and exercise.

Luckily, with the turn of the year (and following multiple overdoses of chocolate truffles, mince pies, Christmas cake ...) I am craving healthy stuff – winter salads, green vegetables al dente, and soup, lots of lovely warming soup.

Today it is bitterly cold so I’m thinking... the sweetness of carrots, I’m thinking ... the warmth of cardamom ... the fresh zing of orange zest. So far, so good (tasty and reasonably healthy). However... I can’t quite leave behind the craving for richness against the harshness of winter, so I’m thinking a great big comforting swirl of nutty, creamy coconut milk.

The response from my coconut-detesting taste-tester?  “Oh ! That’s good !”

Healthy stuff...

 

For 6 - 8 portions of sunny soup that will surprise even a coconut-hater you will need...

1 tablespoon extra virgin olive (or 15g butter)

3 pods of cardamom, seeds only, crushed

½ teaspoon finely grated orange zest (orange part only)

500g carrots, (prepared weight), peeled and sliced

1 onion, finely chopped

1 small clove of garlic, crushed

750ml good quality chicken stock

1 x 400ml tin of unsweetened coconut milk

Salt and white pepper to taste 

Finely chopped coriander leaf or parsley to serve, and some crusty white bread or a delicious nutty wholemeal bread won't hurt

 

Method

Place the olive oil (or butter) into a medium saucepan over a medium heat and add the crushed cardamom seed. Fry gently for about a minute before adding the orange zest, carrots, onion and garlic. Stir to coat in the oil (or butter), then turn down the heat to low.

Cover and cook gently without colouring for about 15 minutes, stiring every few minutes (if the vegetables appear to be sticking, add a little more oil or butter and make sure the heat is low enough – if the vegetables are sizzling, the heat is too high).

Next, add the chicken stock and unsweetened coconut milk. Bring to a gentle simmer, cover, and leave to cook gently for a further 15 minutes.

Finally, puree the soup – a stick blender is the perfect tool for this job. Taste and add salt and a little white pepper if necessary.

Serve with a sprinkling of finely chopped parsley or corriander leaf, or get posh and instead serve with parsley or corriander leaf oil artfully dotted on top.

Tuck in!

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Chocolate Orange Mincemeat – shouts Christmas louder than a chorus of drunken carollers

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For me, chocolate and orange are the two flavours that sing out louder than a chorus of drunken carollers “Christmas is Here! Christmas is Here! “ And guess what? They absolutely love each other’s company.

This year I went through my (now dog-earred) copy of The Flavour Thesaurus and picked out other flavours that adore chocolate and like to hang out with each other as well.  

Don't be put off by the list of ingredients - it's mostly an assembly job.

See? Assembly job!

For approximately 4 jars of mincemeat, you will need...
... to pre-heat the oven to 180°C   

300g sultanas

100g ready-to-eat prunes (e.g. no stone), finely chopped

100g dried sour cherries (or dried cranberries), finely chopped

300g ready-to-eat dried apricots, finely chopped

100g mixed peel (this is finely chopped candied peel of oranges and lemons)

100g walnuts, finely chopped

220g dark brown sugar

200g grated apple (I used Granny Smiths)

125g butter, cut into cubes

finely grated zest and juice of 1 large orange

finely grated zest and juice of 1 lemon

 ½ teaspoon ground cinnamon

¼ teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg (or ground nutmeg)

5 coriander seeds, crushed (or ¼ teaspoon ground coriander)
3 allspice berries, crushed (or ground allspice, but not mixed spice)

2 whole cloves, crushed

2 teaspoons cocoa powder, sifted

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

6 tablespoons Cointreau (or other orange liqueur) + an additional 2 tablespoons to stir in at the end 

Method

Mix all the ingredients together in a large oven-proof dish with a lid. Cover and place in the preheated oven and cook gently for 3 hours, stirring every half hour or so (set a timer... )

When the cooking time has elapsed, remove from the oven and allow to cool, stirring briefly every half hour until cold. This keeps the butter evenly distributed throughout the mixture.

Finally, stir the remaining 2 tablespoons of Cointreau (or other orange liqueur) into the cooled mixture before sealing in clean, dry jars.

It will keep well for up to a year in a cool dark place or in the fridge - but I can’t really see the point in that!

With these fairy-size piece, you can eat three without a hint of guilt!

For the fairy-sized mince pies in the photos, stamp out rounds of short crust pastry using a 5cm (2 inch) scone cutter and use them to line a mini-muffin tin. Fill them to the top with the cooked, cooled mixture. Bake for about 10 minutes at 180°C. 

For regular-sized mince pies, use a 7.5cm cutter (2½ inch) for the base and a 6cm cutter (2¼ inch) for the lids. Fill, seal and bake for 20 – 25 minutes at 165°C or until a pale golden brown. Remember to poke two holes in the top of each with a sharp knife to let the steam out and stop them bursting open.

I prefer my mince pies warm from the oven (the microwave is death to pastry) with a swirl of fresh cream. A touch of Cointreau in the cream is optional.

It's snowing!

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Quesadillas – hot as a temper tantrum, cheesy as furry dice

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One of my in-laws often transports horses and is used to dealing with shockingly impatient road behaviour and aggression as she carts her vulnerable cargo around. Over the years, she has developed a weapon which she fires at the offending driver. It envelopes them and their vehicle in a cloud of bright pink fluff, rendering them as harmless as a giant marshmallow. This all happens in her imagination but it makes her feel much better and allows her to continue on her way calmly and serenely.

I should have thought of that when a bloke in a beat up land rover approached at speed in a 30km zone and glued himself to my tail. There was so little room between our vehicles that I could practically count the spots on his furry dice. He started a hooting and a hollering and a shaking his fist.

Was there bright pink fluff? Was there calmness and serenity? Nope, I raised a very unladylike middle finger. For some strange reason that did nothing to calm him whatsoever! Though we were soon on a dual carriageway, where he could easily overtake, he stayed with me for miles, red as a beetroot (with embarrassment no doubt), bellowing out the window (what I can only assume were profuse apologies).

I had quesadillas for lunch. They were as cheesy as furry dice, laced with chilli as fiery as a temper tantrum, with a few other bits and pieces thrown like insults into the mix. I felt much better after demolishing two.

 

For each quesadilla, you will need…

1 corn tortilla

35g cheese – I used half mature cheddar, half mozzarella, grated

approximately 1 heaped tablespoon of filling, prepared before you start cooking.

 

Today’s filling was …

a little finely chopped spring onion

very finely sliced red pepper

finely sliced mushrooms

½ teaspoon of red chilli

 

You are only ever 5 minutes away from cheesy deliciousness.

Heat a non-stick frying pan over a medium heat. When the pan is hot add the tortilla and heat it through by giving it about 10 seconds, then flipping it. Do this three more times (so, 40 seconds in total).

Now scatter the filling over half the tortilla, leaving a margin of about 1cm at the edge. Cover the filling with the cheese and fold the unfilled side over to make a half moon. Cook for about 2 minutes or until golden brown, patting gently with a spatula so that both sides of the quesadilla stick together as the cheese melts. Gently turn the quesadilla and continue cooking until the second side is golden brown. Remove from the pan, cut into wedges and serve immediately. I like sour cream or guacamole with mine.

 

 

Other favourites are:

• smoked salmon, dill, capers and cheddar
• bacon (pre-cooked), camembert and mozzarella
• chilli con carne, cheddar and mozzarella, and pickled jalapeños
• prosciutto, fresh basil (or basil pesto), and mozzarella. 

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French Onion Soup – Ooh là là!

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The smell of frying onions reminds me of fairgrounds; of treasure hunting in a drizzly Camden Market; of hotdogs on a New York street corner; of the gently sizzling start of many a comforting soup, stew or casserole.  Proust, you can keep your Madeleines.

What I am after today is something even the fickle sugar rush of chocolate can’t provide. I need a bowl of no-nonsense, unapologetically pungent, solidly satisfying French onion soup with a lid of thick cheesy croutons.

Just as Ooh là là! has acquired a different meaning in English, French onion soup has come to mean an onion soup made with beef broth. However, if you can get someone to make you this dish in France, it is just as likely to be made with a chicken stock or just plain water. I’ve chosen a middle ground, going for chicken stock, as I find the beef version too ... well, too beefy. I’m in an onion sort of mood and that’s what I want this soup to sing of.

(The traditional method is to place the croutons on the soup, cover with cheese and put the whole lot under a hot grill but I find that preparing the croutons separately is quicker and safer.)

To create a little Ooh là là! for about 4 people you will need...

...for the soup

75g butter

1kg onions, peeled and sliced thinly into half moons

1L good chicken stock (or 350mls dry white wine and 650mls stock)

2 tablespoons of whiskey or brandy (optional)

a small bunch of thyme

2 or 3 bay leaves

time and patience (about 2 hours worth)

a little salt and black pepper to taste 

In a medium saucepan, melt the butter over a medium heat and add the onions. Turn down the heat and cook the onions gently until they have reduced dramatically in volume and have turned a deep caramel brown (anything up to 2 hours), stirring occasionally, particularly towards the end.

Add the stock, whiskey or brandy (if using), and the bunch of thyme and bay leaves. Cover and simmer for about 1 hour. Taste and add salt and pepper if necessary.

At this point it is ready to serve, however, I prefer to leave it cool, then chill it in the fridge overnight. I scrape off and discard any butter than has congealed on the top before reheating while I make the croutons.

Transform the humble onion into a pot of gold

 

... for the croutons

8 slices of baguette, about 1.5cm thick

1 clove garlic, peeled

100g Gruyere (or a mixture of Gruyere and Mozzarella) grated

Place the slices of baguette on a baking tray and bake at about 175°C for about 15 minutes or until golden, turning once about half way through the time. Leave to cool.

When the soup is ready to serve, rub the croutons lightly with the clove of garlic, place on a baking tray and sprinkle with the grated cheese. Place under a hot grill until golden and bubbling.

Ladle the soup into bowls and launch two croutons on the surface of each golden oniony sea. Serve immediately. Ooh là là !

Ooh là là !

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