Cardamom

April 18, 2015 Baking

Churros, with Pistachio and Cardamom Sugar

Every so often, I think ‘I must make the kids churros for breakfast’, and I very rarely do!! Perhaps with four of them, Saturday is already too chaotic? However today they were all a pre-occupied, so I jumped out of bed, and raced into the kitchen. Inevitably Scarlett followed me, so she helped me make the dough, and find all of the ingredients. I often have flavoured sugars to hand, and we all know that I love my cardamom and pistachio – no surprise then that I keep a stash of that in my cold store! I did also make normal cinnamon and sugar, but honestly, do try it with cardamom – it’s amazing!

This recipe is Nieves Barragán Mohacho’s, and my only comments would be that it’s pretty firm to use in a piping bag – if you have a biscuit press, definitely make sure you use that – I nearly ended up wearing mine!

Ingredients:

Serves 4-6
For the churros:
plain flour 250g
salt 1 pinch
unsalted butter 50g
water 200ml
caster sugar (for dusting the churros) 50g
vegetable oil 300ml

For the chocolate:
dark chocolate (70 % cacao) 150g
double cream 300ml
vanilla pod 1
cinnamon stick 1
whipping cream 100ml

For the pistachio and cardamom sugar:
100g caster sugar
1tsp good ground green cardamom
2 Tbsp good pistachios, ground with the sugar in a spice grinder

Method:

To make the churros, mix the flour and salt together in a mixing bowl. Heat the butter and water in a pan and bring to the boil. Pour into the flour mixing constantly with a spoon. Mix well and then refrigerate for 30 minutes.
Meanwhile, grate the chocolate into a bowl. Heat the double cream with the vanilla pod and cinnamon stick and bring to the boil. Remove the vanilla pod and cinnamon stick and remove the cream from the heat, and stir in the grated chocolate until the chocolate has entirely melted. Meanwhile, whisk the whipping cream until firm.
Heat 300ml of vegetable oil to 160C-180C. Fill the churrera/piping bag with your mix and squeeze just a small amount out to check the flow. Pipe out 15cm lengths of churro mix into the hot oil (these can be piped into spirals or loops for aesthetic purposes), and cook for between 7-10 minutes until golden brown. Remove from the oil and place on absorbent kitchen paper and dust with the caster sugar. Serve piping hot with the chocolate.
When your churros are ready, divide the chocolate, while still hot, into glasses and dollop a spoon of whipped cream on top. If you have prepared the chocolate in advance and wish to reheat it at the last minute, be careful not to bring to the boil as the mix will curdle.

Scarlett hugging the warmed dough!

The churros on the left have the cardamom and pistachio sugar, those on the right, the cinnamon sugar

On the left, pistachio and cardamom, on the right, cinnamon

February 1, 2015 Recipe

Saffron Jewelled Rice

As a pescetarian, vegetarian dishes are a substantial part of my diet, but when I need to feed a large number of people this is ideal, and is generally a crowd-pleaser. Because it’s one dish that’s fantastic to serve alone, with meat, or fish, it suits so many diets. For our school Quiz Night {amazingly one of the highlights of the social calendar, as we’re all so laughably inept} I served it with Ottolenghi’s Saffron Chicken.

Jewelled rice is a Persian {Iranian} dish, usually saved for weddings and celebrations. Although mine is perhaps not the most authentic version, it seems there is no definitive recipe {or rather everyone thinks their version, is the definite version}. I can’t even spot a consistent difference between the two names: Morasa and Javaher Polow – both seemingly meaning jewelled rice.

Amongst the dozens of recipes I’ve read, there appear to be two distinct variations: one which uses spices and saffron, and a whiter version which omits them. Beyond that, I’ve seen every combination of ingredients and techniques. A few remain common: both nuts and dried fruit feature heavily, with the fruit usually being barberries. These are a sour berry not dissimilar to cranberries in appearance, but as I don’t always have them to hand, I’ve found dried physalis, and sour cherries to be a decent substitute. The physalis particularly has a sour but plump effect. The recipe which appealed to me the most came from the Amira site, and this is the one I’ve adapted.
Serves 8 comfortably

Ingredients:
600g long-grain basmati rice
Generous pinch of saffron threads
300g dried fruit (I used cherries, physalis, cranberry and blueberry)
4 shallots, finely chopped
2 tbsp olive oil
60g unsalted butter
A few fine julienne of carrot
Zest of 1 orange
1 cinnamon stick
seeds from 8 cardamon pods
2 tsp cumin seeds
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

To serve:
100g walnuts, roughly chopped
100g pistachios
seeds of a large pomegranate
Generous handful of parsley, chopped
1 garlic clove, very finely chopped

Method:

Run the basmati under water in a sieve to remove the excess starch, and the cover with cold water, setting it aside to soak for an hour
Cover the saffron with three tablespoons of orange blossom water, and leave to steep
Add the dried fruit to a small bowl, and barely cover in boiling water, leave to steep
After 30 minutes, add the oil and half the butter to a frying pan and set over a low heat. Add the spices and the shallot, and soften gently for 30 minutes until the shallots are barely caramalised. Turn off the heat.
Drain the rice into a large saucepan, and pour boiling water over the rice, until it comes approximately 3cm above the rice. On a medium heat, boil the rice for 3 minutes, then drain and rinse under cold running water, draining well.
When cool, mix the basmati into the shallots, along with the carrot strips, orange zest, saffron infusion, the dried fruit, and their soaking water. Season well with salt and pepper, and stir well.
Dot the surface of the rice with the remaining butter
Using a wooden spoon handle, make 5-6 holes through the rice, allowing it to steam evenly
Take a large piece of baking paper, scrunch it up, and soak in a little water. Shake off the excess, and lay over the rice {as a cartouche}. Cover the pan tightly with a damp tea towel, or sheet of foil, and set over a low heat. Cook, undisturbed, for 40 minutes. By this time your rice will be fluffy and a buttery crust will cover the bottom
While the rice is steaming, toast the nuts in a dry pan until they begin to smell ‘nutty’. Tip into a large bowl, and stir in the parsley, orange zest, garlic, carrot strips and pomegranate seeds
Once the rice has cooked, remove the paper, and stir through the nut and herb mixture. Serve the caramelised rice (the tah-dig) over the top.

I combine this dish with Ottolenghi’s Saffron Chicken, which also contains cardamom and oranges {one of my favourite combinations, as I’m sure you will have realised!}. The two dishes have a number of ingredients in common, and echo each other very successfully. I also took along a selection of hummus, with pitta breads toasted with a little olive oil, parsley and dukkah. Our portable pudding was a bento box of fruit, and a few riciarelli {which though Italian, are not hugely dissimilar to Middle Eastern nut treats}. And no. We did not win!

Do let me know what your favourite version of Jewelled Rice is!

January 29, 2015 Journal

It’s all about the rhubarb…

It’s the end of January, and in the dark sheds of Yorkshire’s Rhubarb Triangle, there’s groaning in the gloomy dark… {And yes, I did say ‘Rhubarb Triangle’!} Forced rhubarb is a prized crop in the UK’s growing season, and actually has Protected Designation of Origin (PDO) status under the European Commission’s Protected Food Name scheme. This is a serious business.

Before the rhubarb can be confined into its gloomy dark, it must first spend 2 years outside in the open, where it can absorb the sunlight and store it in its roots. After a brief exposure to frost, the rhubarb is re-planted inside the long and dark sheds to await its metamorphosis. There, in the warmth, it begins to creak into life, furtively growing upwards, putting all its energy into that tender pink stem as it tries to find the light. Indeed the harvesting process is carried out by candlelight, to ensure that no colour changes can take place. As I said, this is a serious business.

This lipstick pink vegetable {and yes, it’s a vegetable, not a fruit} is dominating my days at the moment! From rhubarb tarts to rhubarb cocktails, rhubarb creme patisserie, soufflé and ice-cream, candied rhubarb, rhubarb crumble – there will be no end until I’ve used every last stem I can find… Between it and the equally anticipated blood orange season, I shall be practically lipstick pink myself in a few weeks…

I first made this poached rhubarb for a tart, but I liked it so much, that I’ve made it several times since. It’s very versatile, you can use it in porridge, maybe with rice-pudding, over ice-cream – anything. Great to keep in the fridge for when you need a pink pick-me-up!

Ingredients:
juice of 3 to 4 blood oranges
100ml cranberry juice
seeds of 6 green cardamom pods
2 Tbsp Grand Marnier (optional)
3 stalks of rhubarb, cut into matching lengths

Method:

Chop your rhubarb into the required lengths, and if you have time, shock it in an ice bath to help retain the colour.
Combine all of the ingredients of the poaching liquor together, and bring to a boil.
Now. Having done this three times, and not being particularly attentive (!), I found that it was best if I brought the liquor to a boil and then turned it off! Put the rhubarb in, and set a timer for 5 minutes.
After 5 minutes, turn the rhubarb over. It won’t be tender at this stage, unless you’re using very tiny stalks. After the second five minutes, bring the liquor back to a boil, and immediately turn it off again! Turn the stalks after a further five minutes, then squidge them, as you might do a steak. If they feel nearly there, remove them immediately – they will continue to soften. This method will at least ensure your rhubarb does not disintegrate in the pan (as my first batch did).
If they’re still terribly firm, turn them over and wait a further five minutes. When just about tender, set aside the rhubarb, and reduce the liquor down to a thick and syrupy glaze.
Keep your rhubarb in a container in the fridge, soaking in the cooking liquor.

January 16, 2015 Breakfast

Cardamom Scented Pears

It was so spectacular this morning: the boats were buzzing up and down the Thames, and the gulls were spiralling high on the wind… It may be January, but I really wanted to eat breakfast outside. Though the sun was blazing, it definitely felt more appropriate to eat something warm and nourishing, and there’s nothing like a bowl of porridge to warm you up. I had some lovely pears to hand, and as I’m going through a bit of a cardamom phase, I thought they might taste rather special pan-fried with the warming spice. I’d intended popping in a few emerald pistachios, but I appear to be using them up all too frequently in jewelled rice. A quick ferret in the cupboard turned up my old favourite, dried sour cherries. I love these, although they’re very sweet (and therefore perfect for sweetening up the porridge), they also have a great sour tang – sour enough to enliven the tastebuds on a cold morning. I popped them into the pan with the pears and they were a revelation! Enough of the pear juice had steeped into them to plump them a little, but the pan gave their outer shell a crisp and chewy texture, almost akin to little chewy toffees… This combination is so much better than I anticipated, and the whole thing took less than ten minutes to prepare. I drizzled a little local honey onto the top, and took my bowl outside, watching the world pass me by… As a taster of the coming spring, they were the perfect start to my day.

Ingredients (for 2):
1/2 large rip pear, cored, and cut into wedges
1 tablespoon of coconut oil, or butter
the seeds of 5 green cardamom pods
1 small handful of dried, sour cherries
1 teaspoon organic honey (not manuka, probably too strong for this)
1 portion of gluten-free porridge per person, made to your preference

Pears, cored and cut into segments

Pen fry the pears for 2-3 minutes on each side, until they’re golden, with the cardamom and cherries

Drizzle with a little bit of organic honey, and savour the moment

A perfect day :0)

January 14, 2015 Recipe

Cardamom Scented Rhubarb Tart

I know, what’s with the cardamom already? But trust me, this isn’t just about obsession, this is about delicious perfection. Cardamom is absolutely perfect with rhubarb, and blood oranges – it had to make it into this dish. One thing we’re not terribly good at in mainland Europe, is layering spices. It must be an art form we’ve lost along the way, as our ancestors were absolutely obsessed with spices and herbs, from sweet cicely to orange thyme {I was going to call the blog that at one point, but it’s too long to put into a search engine :0)}.

In this rhubarb tart, the main vegetable is poached in a liquor of blood oranges, Grand Marnier, cranberry juice, and cardamom pods – it’s exquisite! Oh. And yes. Rhubarb is a vegetable. Some of the resulting rhubarb is then blitzed into creme patisserie, making the most delicious custard, and poured into a pastry shell… Easy peasy huh?

Well, it would have been if I hadn’t been glued to this years’ Bocuse d’Or competition. I had to poach my rhubarb three times, to get to a consistency I liked. At least it provided the additional purée for the crème pâtt’, so it’s all good! Do watch yours like a hawk, even 30 seconds here or there makes a difference.

Ingredients for the Pastry:
300g plain flour
150g unsalted butter
½ tsp salt
120g icing sugar
3 large egg yolks
Seeds from ½ vanilla pod
1 egg for the egg wash

Ingredients for the Poaching Liquor:
juice of 3 to 4 blood oranges
100ml cranberry juice
seeds of 6 green cardamom pods
2 Tbsp Grand Marnier (optional)
3 stalks of rhubarb

Ingredients for the Crème Pâtissèrie:
300ml full fat milk
80g unrefined caster sugar
30g unsalted good quality butter
40g plain flour
4 free range egg yolks
200g poached rhubarb

Now, before we even begin with the method, no, of course I didn’t make my own pastry on this occasion! You may love to do so, but I find this stuff so perfectly good, that I very rarely use anything else! The recipe above is Heston Blumenthal’s, and if you feel the need to torture yourself, it will do very nicely, thank you! I have made it before, and it’s jolly decent pastry…

Method:

Add the lemon zest to the egg yolk mixture and then add to the bowl in the mixer and continue to mix on low speed until fully combined and a very soft dough has formed {approximately 3-5 minutes}.
Mould the dough into a flat rectangle and wrap it in clingfilm before placing in the fridge for at least 1 hour. {Last time I made it, I did it overnight, was pretty firm when I rolled it out}
Roll the pastry between two sheets of baking paper to a thickness of 2mm, using two stacked 2 pence coins as guides, then place in the freezer for 30 minutes.
Pre-heat the oven to 190ºC/gas mark 5. Line a tart tin with the pastry making sure to press it into the edges and leaving the pastry hanging over the edge.
Take a sheet of baking paper and scrunch it up several times to eliminate any sharp edges. Prick the dough with a fork all over the surface. Place the baking paper on top and add enough coins {or baking beans} to fill the casing ¼ of the way up. Place in the preheated oven to bake for approximately 20 minutes or until fully cooked. {Be careful with the coins – once nearly put a watch battery in the oven which someone had dumped in the coin pot – check them!}
In the meantime, mix some of the leftover dough with an egg using a hand blender.
After 20 minutes, remove the baking paper and coins and, using a pastry brush, brush the entire surface of the tart with the dough and egg mixture. This ‘liquid pastry’ will ensure that any holes will be sealed. Return the tart to the oven for an additional 10 minutes.
Remove the tart from the oven and allow to cool completely.
Meanwhile, chop your rhubarb to an appropriate length – this will, of course, depend entirely on the tart case you’re using! Make sure all the lengths will actually fit inside your case, and try to pick stalks of a comparable size. It’s inevitable that the rhubarb itself will lessen in colour towards the top of the stalk, but if you’re careful, you can match several stalks together to achieve a pleading gradient of pink. I found three stalks fit my tart tin perfectly…
Combine all of the ingredients of the liquor together, and bring to a boil. Now. Having done this three times, and not being particularly attentive (!), I found that it was best if I brought the liquor to a boil and then turned it off! Put the rhubarb in, and set a timer for 5 minutes. After 5 minutes, turn the rhubarb over. It won’t be tender at this stage, unless you’re using very tiny stalks. After the second five minutes, bring the liquor back to a boil, and immediately turn it off again! Turn the stalks after a further five minutes, then squidge them, as you might do a steak. If they feel nearly there, remove them immediately – they will continue to soften. This method will at least ensure your rhubarb does not disintegrate in the pan (as my first batch did). If they’re still terribly firm, turn them over and wait a further five minutes. When just about tender, set aside the rhubarb, and reduce the liquor down to a thick and syrupy glaze.
To make the crème pâttisèrie, put all the ingredients into the Thermomix bowl and cook for 10 minutes at 90C, speed 4. Give it a quick whizz at the end to ensure it’s smooth {especially if you still have cardamom seeds in it}, then pour into a bowl and cover with cling film until it’s cool. Yes – that’s it! Keep it in your fridge until you require it.
Finally – the assembly – take your cooled tart shell, fill it with the pastry cream, top with the poached rhubarb, and glaze with a little of the reduced poaching liquor. C’est parfait, n’est ce pas?

Notes:

I remembered, last year, that Tom Kitchen shocked asparagus before cooking – by putting it into ice-water – the reverse of an ice-bath… It sets the chlorophyll, and though rhubarb doesn’t have chlorophyll per se, I though it might help the colour… It certainly seems to work…
Poaching the rhubarb in successive batches in the poaching liquor definitely intensifies the colour and cardamon flavour
You can use any leftover rhubarb on porridge, ice-cream etc – it’s delicious