Category: 20th century

Stuffing Loaf

20th century, 21st Century

This recipe might be my finest creation since The Ploughman’s Loaf!

If the name of the blog weren’t already a huge clue, I am a big fan of leftovers, and the bigger the occasion, the greater my happiness.

Because however wonderful the celebratory meal, opening the fridge the next day to an array of already-cooked food requiring only a little reheating – or in the best cases, none at all – is a thing of beauty.

Boxing Day is arguably the Christmas Day of deja food, with the greatest selection of food possibilities. The simplest way to sample these delights is the humble sandwich: a little turkey or chicken, a little ham, a little cranberry, some stuffing…

But the problem with all these little bits here and there is that before long, you’re quickly headed towards a sandwich of Dagwood proportions.

In addition, I love some texture to my sandwiches – the popularity of adding crisps to sandwiches in the UK is well acknowledged. In traditional roast dinners, the stuffing is frequently the star on the plate: crunchy on top, soft underneath, and packed with savoury flavour. However, as a deja food, it loses much of its appeal, being rather bulky and in texture, veering towards the claggy.

The recipe I have here is the solution, and is so simple, I’m surprised it hasn’t occurred to me before: instead of breadcrumbs in the stuffing, put the stuffing flavourings into the bread. The bread can then be toasted for a sandwich and provide crunch and taste without the resulting sandwich requiring the unhinging of one’s jaw.

This recipe is based on my Traditional Stuffing recipe, although you can also use it as a basis for making a loaf from your own family stuffing recipes. To my lovely American readers, I hope you’ll enjoy saving money by making sandwiches at home with this bread on the day after Thanksgiving, instead of joining the wrestling matches at the Black Friday sales.

A toasted Stuffing Loaf sandwich with cold chicken, ham and cranberry sauce

Stuffing Loaf

When cooked, this loaf will be a lot heavier than your regular white loaf – after all, it will have an additional half a kilo of onions in it – but provided you let it have sufficient rising times, the crumb will be open and moist (see top photo).

500g onions
60ml vegetable oil
salt and pepper
1 tbs  each dried “Scarborough Fair” herbs, i.e. parsley, sage, rosemary, thyme
1 tbs chicken bouillon powder (optional)
2 sachets fast action yeast
600g strong white bread flour
500ml warm water

  • Peel and chop the onions into 2cm squares.
  • Add the oil to a pan and set over medium-low heat (4 on a 1-9 scale).
  • Add the onions and toss in the oil to coat.
  • Sprinkle with 1tsp of salt to help draw out the moisture.
  • Cook gently until the onions are softened but not coloured, stirring occasionally  – about 15-20 minutes.
  • Season with pepper and sprinkle in the dried herbs and stir to mix in. Cook for another 2 minutes, then remove from the heat and set aside.
  • Mix the bouillon (if using), yeast and flour together.
  • In a large bowl – stand mixer or other – pour in the warm water and add the onion mixture.
  • Add the flour mixture and knead into a dough – around 10 minutes.
  • Cover the bowl with plastic and set in a warm place to rise for at least 1 hour, probably a little longer, until doubled in size.
  • Tip the risen dough out onto a floured work surface and form into a loaf shape.
  • Drop the dough into a large (1kg/2lb) greased loaf tin. Dust the top with flour and lightly cover with plastic. The dough will fill the tin to about 3/4 of its height.
  • Set the loaf aside to rise for at least 30 minutes.
  • Heat the oven to 220°C, 200°C Fan.
  • Arrange the oven shelves so that there is a solid shelf below the rack shelf.
  • Fill a cup with water.
  • When the loaf has risen (and nicely rounded above the edge of the tin), move it into the oven and onto the rack shelf.
  • Pour the cup of water onto the solid shelf and close the oven. The steam will help the formation of the crust.
  • Bake for 30 minutes.
  • Turn the loaf tin around and bake for another 20 minutes.
  • Remove the loaf from the tin and return it to the oven on the rack shelf and bake without the tin for 10 minutes to crisp the crust.
  • Remove the loaf from the oven and cool on a wire rack.
A hot toasted Stuffing Loaf sandwich with chicken and gravy

The Day After Sandwich

Whether it’s Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter or just your regular Sunday roast, The Day After Sandwich made with Stuffing Loaf is a delicious treat. Obviously, you can make a sandwich any way you like, but I thought I’d offer a couple of suggestions with special reference to using your stuffing loaf.

  • Toast the bread: You’ll get the best stuffing flavour from the bread if its toasted, but here’s my recommendation – ONLY TOAST ONE SIDE OF EACH SLICE. This will give a nice crunch to the outsides and a good contrast with the softness of the filling. Toast both sides by all means, but I found that a bit too crunchy (tho’ that’s probably because I cut the slices thin – approx 1cm).
    Now my kitchen has a minuscule amount of counter space, so I don’t have room for a toaster. Consequently, when I want to make toast, I use the oven grill, so it’s easy for me to only toast one side (move rack to highest level, put in cold, turn on grill setting, 8 minutes). If you have a toaster with a nice wide opening, you can put two slices in together, and then only the outer sides will get toasted.
  • Preparing the inside of the bread/toast. Another of the great choices you can make is to have either a hot or cold filling. I recommend spreading the insides of your bread/toast slices with mayonnaise if planning a cold sandwich, and butter if going for a hot sandwich.
  • For a hot sandwich, warm some slices of chicken/turkey in  gravy and spoon generously into your sandwich.
  • For a cold sandwich, arrange slices of turkey/chicken/ham or a combination, and add a teaspoon of cranberry sauce.

Irish Halloween Treats

19th century, 20th century, Bread, Cakes, Large Cakes, Small Cakes

There are several Halloween traditions around these isles, but arguably the strongest traditions abide in Ireland.

Several years ago, I discovered online a trove of fascinating Irish social history at the National Folklore Collection. This project is the digitisation of thousands of essays written by Irish schoolchildren and teachers from over 5000 primary schools in the Irish Free State, between the years 1937-1939. These social history essays contain information gleaned from parents and grandparents, and give a fascinating insight into hearth and home stretching back to famine times in the nineteenth century. This amazing resource is searchable on an abundance subjects, but of course the food essays are going to be my main interest.

If you’d like a deep-dive into just how much information is available to explore, my paper “The Boxty Paradox: Everything, Everywhere, All At Once” can be downloaded from the Books and Writing page. One thing that became aparrent during the research of that paper was just how bleak the food choices of so many families were. Consequently, the celebratory foods might seem to us rather plain. However, they can also demonstrate an appreciation for, if not the finer things in life, then life’s simple pleasures.

“Hallowe’en was a great night among the Irish people long ago and they looked forward to it for many weeks. All the boys and girls would gather together in one house and they would have great feasting & merrymaking.”

Collected by Annie Fallon from Mr John Harley, Farmhill, Co. Mayo1

The Halloween/November’s Night/Oidhche Shamhna foods most mentioned are barn brack/bairín breac – a ‘speckled loaf’ originally of caraway seeds, but more recently dried fruit – boxty, apples and nuts.

“In this locality the popular food at Halloween are apples, nuts, and boxty, also dumplings of many kinds.”

Collected by Mrs A. Montgomery from Mrs Kelly, Corr, Co. Cavan2

According to many accounts, the Halloween barn brack was saved up for and bought from a bakery. These cakes were baked containing a ring, and whoever got the piece of cake with the ring was supposed to get married within a year.

“Halloweve night falls on the last night of October. On that day my mother goes to town and she buys apples, nuts and a barn-brack. “

Collected by Jerard Jordan from Mrs Gara, Tivannagh, Co. Roscommon.3

Alternately, during hard times, a soda cake would be baked at home either on the griddle or inside a bastible (lidded pot). The most coveted cake was baked with sour cream, but apples and hazelnuts could also be added.

“apples are put in cakes for November night.”

Collected by Tommy Kelleher from Mrs Margaret Kelleher, Mullaghroe South, Co. Cork4

“The cream cake was a soda cake with plenty of cream in it and baked in the griddle.”

Collected by Beití Ní Dhomhnaill from Mrs Ashe, teacher, Dún Beag5

“On special occasions … a cream cake was made. Cream was mixed through the milk when mixing the dough. Currants, sugar and raisins were also put in the cream cake to make it rich and sweet.”

Collected by Seamus Daly, Kilclooney, Co. Waterford6

“On festive occasions a special cake was baked of such ingredients as flour, eggs, sour cream and a little sugar.”

Collected by Mary Jones from Mr M. Jones, Bruree, Co. Limerick7

“… cream cakes were made. These were made thin, but otherwise were made in the same way as ordinary soda cake.”

Collected by Michael Collins, Woodcock Hill, Co. Clare8

The recipes this week are two versions of soda cake mentioned in accounts in The Schools Collection: the cream cake and a fruit cake. According to the written accounts, the cream cake was considered the pinnacle of social delicacies, in numerous accounts warranting special mention. The fruit soda cake has more oblique mentions, but is absolutely symbolic of the foods enjoyed at Halloween. You can, of course, choose to add apples and nuts to the cream cake, if liked.

 Cream Cake

In the 19th century in Ireland, white flour was expensive, so if wheat flour was used at all, in most households it was wholemeal. I’ve opted for a less dense mixture of white and brown. Choose your own variation.

If you’d like to add apples and nuts to your cream cake, use the proportions in the recipe below, and reduce the sugar to 50g.

450g plain flour/wholemeal/brown/mixture
1tsp bicarbonate of soda
1 tsp salt
2 large eggs
85g sugar – caster, light/dark brown – your choice
300ml sour cream
100ml milk

  • Prepare your baking tin(s). You can, of course, bake your soda cake freeform, but a tin is also fine. My tin of preference is a 24cm shallow square tin, but you can also choose smaller tins or indeed choose to bake them in a pan on the ob over medium-low heat. If using a tin, line with baking parchment.
  • Heat the oven to 200°C, 180°C Fan. If using the hob, put a non-stick pan over medium-low heat (4 on a 1-9 scale) and allow to heat thoroughly.
  • Put the flour(s), soda, salt, sugar and eggs into a food processor and blitz briefly until well combined.
  • Tip the mixture into a large bowl.
  • Mix the milk and cream together until smooth, then add to the dry ingredients bit by bit. NB You might not need all of the milk mixture, as it will depend on the amount of moisture already in the flour and eggs. You want a soft dough, so a little extra is fine, but not enough moisture will lead to a dense loaf too stiff to rise.
  • When your dough is fully combined, tip out onto a floured surface.
    • For soda farls to cook on the hob, divide the dough into two, and lightly shape each half into rounds. Gently pat down until 4cm in height. Using a dough scraper or similar, cut each round into six or eight triangles.
    • For a large loaf, shape into a round and transfer to your prepared tin. Cut a deep cross in the top to assist in even cooking. If you have any of the cream mixture left, you can brush it over the top of your loaf as a glaze.
  • To cook your cream cake(s)
    • For a large loaf, bake for 45-50 minutes, turning the oven half-way through to ensure even baking.
    • For cream farls, bake gently in your pan for around 10 minutes each side, turning carefully when the first side is toasted and lightly browned.
  • Cool briefy on a wire rack and serve warm with plenty of good butter.

Apple and Hazelnut Soda Cake

Apples and nuts were central to the feasting at Halloween and this sweet soda cake is rich with both kinds of autumnal bounty. Enjoy warm from the oven or toasted, with a generous spreading of good butter. I’ve chosen to use Bramley cooking apples, as they break down into fluff when cooked.

100g whole unblanched hazelnuts
450g plain flour
1tsp bicarbonate of soda
1 tsp salt
50g sugar – caster, granulated, Demerera, light/dark brown – your choice
2 Bramley Apples – or 500-600g of similar cooking/sharp apples
200ml plain yogurt
200ml whole milk

  • Prepare your baking tin. My tin of preference is a 24cm shallow square tin. Line with baking parchment.
  • Heat the oven to 200°C, 180°C Fan.
  • Put the hazelnuts onto a baking tin and bake for 10 minutes until lightly browned and toasty. You can remove the skins by rubbing the nuts in a clean cloth, but I prefer to leave them as is.
  • Put the flour, salt, sugar and soda into a bowl and whisk together.
  • Peel and core your apples, and chop into 2cm pieces. Add the chopped apple and nuts to your dry ingredients and mix.
  • Whisk together the yogurt and milk, then gradually add to the rest of the ingredients. I find it best to stir the liquid through with a round-ended knife, which is less rough than a larger utensil. You might not need all of the liquid as the apples will contribute to the moisture of the mix.
  • Tip out your dough and shape lightly into a round. Transfer the dough to your baking tin, and cut a deep cross in the top to facilitate even baking.
  • Bake for 50-60 minutes until risen and browned, turning the tin around after 30 minutes.
  • Cool briefly on a wire rack and enjoy warm or toasted with lots of good butter.

1 The Schools’ Collection, Volume 0096, Page 84
2The Schools’ Collection, Volume 0982, Page 233
3 The Schools’ Collection, Volume 0234, Page 307
4 The Schools’ Collection, Volume 0359, Page 144.
5 The Schools’ Collection, Volume 0626, Page 350.
6 The Schools’ Collection, Volume 0654, Page 447.
7The Schools’ Collection, Volume 0498, Page 131
8 The Schools’ Collection, Volume 0598, Page 249

Griddle Scones

19th century, 20th century, Bread, Small Cakes, Yeast

Following on from the Slapan last time, I have another bakestone recipe for you – Griddle Scones!

I love a scone. I willfully and shamelessly pronounce it ‘skon’ too – even though I know the etymology dictates that it should rightfully be pronounced ‘sk-ohhh-n’, because that brings images to mind of little finger outstretched and pretensions of grandeur, so I just prefer the short, humble sound of ‘skon’. Fight me.

Traditional scones are absolutely the easiest and best thing to whip up when presented with an Entertaining Emergency™. You can be serving up a batch of fragrant and hot scones in about 30 minutes – and that includes 15 minutes of baking!

Griddle scones are not that kind of scone – the time required is closer to 3.5 hours, start to finish. “Why would I bother waiting around for all that time when I can have some oven scones in just 30 minutes?” I hear you ask. I’m afraid I have no quick response, but for the fact that if you were to make these, you would then have your answer.

So do you like eating soft, billowy clouds? Because making griddle scones is how you get to eat sweet, billowy, buttery clouds. The yeast dough is enriched with double-strength milk, butter, eggs and sugar, and therefore it requires much longer to prove – 2 hours in the first instance. So while it’s a relatively long time, it’s not a hands-on commitment. The second rise can be up to an hour, but I recommend starting cooking half the dough after about 40 minutes – mainly because if, like me, you don’t actually possess a griddle, but do possess a rather nice non-stick pan, you can cook the first half of the dough easily, with plenty of room for manoeuvering the scones when turning them over. I have tried cooking the whole dough all at once, and it was very tricksy – plus the scones expand upwards quite considerably during baking, which was also not helpful in a confined pan space.

If you’re a fan of muffins then, aside from the extended rising time, this method is pretty much the same, but with one subtle difference. The enrichments of butter, sugar and egg mean that the cooked dough remains incredibly soft. Even when browned, the outsides of these scones never approaches anything remotely close to crusty. The sides of the scones are particularly delicate, and as supple as skin. In enjoying them, we must be mindful of Hannah Glasse’s advice when referring to muffins, in that they must be split/pulled apart, for to use a knife on them when hot, is to squish down the cloud of dough to something claggy and leaden. The best approach I have found is to use a serrated knife to just break the skin of the scone on the sides, then use the tines of two forks to pull the scones apart. You don’t have to use forks, of course, you can just pull them apart – but I must be lacking a bit of skill there, because I always seem to end up with one pillowy side and one thin and somewhat meagre side, and thus reduce the overall eating experience by half.

Griddle scones go back to the 19th century, but this recipe is scaled down and adapted from an absolute classic of griddle/bakestone cookery, “Morning and Hot Plate Goods” by John Boyd (undated, but thought to be 1946-ish) – a veritable cornucopia of commercial recipes from the offices of The British Baker. He calls them fermented scones, but I’ve opted for the more easily understood Griddle Scones.

Griddle Scones

This recipe has the unusual ingredient of ‘double strength’ milk, which is water mixed with twice the usual quantity of milk powder. I use whole milk powder, because that’s what I have in the cupboard, but skimmed milk powder, which might be easier to find, would be fine as well.

145ml water
30g whole milk powder
scant ½ tsp salt
45g unsalted butter
45g caster sugar
1 large egg – beaten
260g plain flour
1 sachet fast action yeast

  • Put the water, milk powder, salt, butter and sugar in a small saucepan and stir over low heat until the butter melts and the sugar is dissolved. Cool to blood temperature, whisk in the egg, then pour into a bowl. Add the remaining ingredients to the bowl and stir until combined. The dough will be very soft and moist.
  • Cover the bowl with plastic, or a cloth, and set aside to rise for 2 hours.
  • Gently tip out the dough onto a floured surface and divide it into two (roughly 270g each). Shape each half into a circle, and pat down gently until it is 2-3cm thick.
  • Using a dough scraper or similar, cut each round into triangular farls. These can be as few as four or as many as eight.
    The sizes of scone you get whether cutting your round into (L->R) four, six or eight.

    I think six farls is probably the happy medium, unless you’re serving teeny scones for afternoon tea, in which case go with the eight.

  • Slide the farls apart from one another, so that they have room to rise, and cover lightly with a cloth.
  • Leave to rise for 30-40 minutes.
  • Put a non-stick pan on medium-low heat (4 on my hob) and allow it to heat through. This will take about 5 minutes. You want the pan to be evenly hot throughout, otherwise your scones will cook unevenly. No need to grease the pan.
  • Cook your first batch of scones. NB: As you move each scone into the pan TURN IT OVER and cook the top first. By cooking the rounded, risen ‘top’ first, and the already-flat bottom second, your scones will have a much neater shape. Not turning them over will make your finished scones rather misshapen. Still delicious, but not at their best to look at. Spread them out, avoiding the centre of the pan as it will be the hottest. Cook for 4-5 minutes until browned on the bottom, then carefully turn them over and cook until both sides are evenly coloured. Don’t worry if you turned them too early, you can flip them again once the second side is done.They will continue to rise with the heat of the pan, and will become almost wobbly, so try and turn them over in one fluid motion and then don’t touch them until they have cooked for a further four minutes. To check for done-ness, lightly rest a finger on the top of a scone and try to move it gently from side to side: if there’s no longer any wobble, the scone is cooked.  
  • Cool on a wire rack.
  • To serve: If not eating immediately, when time to serve, warm the scones in the oven. Use a serrated knife to break the ‘skin’ on the sides of each scone, then pull apart either by hand or by using the tines of two forks. Butter generously and enjoy.

Slapan

20th century, Bread, Small Cakes, Sweet Pastry

I’ve been reading a lot of bakestone recipes lately, and, spoiler alert, if you like Welsh Cakes, then this recipe is about to become your new favourite.

This recipe comes from a small but delightful mid-20th century recipe book. “Croeso Cymreig: A Welsh Welcome”, originally published by the Wales Gas Board in the 1950s (mine is from 1957). I’ve seen a couple of editions on the second hand market (AbeBooks) for about £20, but more modern editions seem available for as little as £3. These newer editions are published by Gwasg Dinefwr Press or John Jones Press under the title “Recipes from Wales – 113 Traditional Welsh Recipes”. Alternatively, you can view a copy online for free at Archive.com.¹

One of the reasons why I like this book is that it includes several variations of the same recipe. Some of them have different cooking methods too, for example, there are three Teisen Lap (‘moist cake’) recipes that can be cooked in an oven, in a Dutch oven in front of the fire, or on a griddle.

Slapan originates in North Wales. The book contains two Slapan recipes – ordinary Slapan, and Slapan Sir Fon (Anglesey Slapan). The difference between the two seems to be that Slapan is made with mixed fruit, and Slapan Sir Fon is made with currants only. Doing some more reading, I found a third version – Slapan Dafydd (Saint David’s Slapan) – which is made with sultanas only.

There are subtle variations in both the liquid used (milk/buttermilk) and leavening agents (baking powder, bicarbonate of soda, and also a little of both), but essentially it is the same method for all: rub the butter into the flour, add the rest of the ingredients and bring together into a soft dough with the eggs and liquid. Spoonfuls of the dough are then cooked on a bakestone, turning halfway through. An important aspect of the appeal of these teatime dainties is the speed with which they can be brought to the table – not much more than 30 minutes from start to finish. Perfect for when company drops by unexpectedly.

Taste

So what are they like to eat? Really delicious, actually. I mentioned above that Slapan are similar to Welsh Cakes, and they are, but without any of the spicing of the latter. Also in contrast, they are very light. With all the love in the world, even Welsh Cake devotees must admit they’re decidedly firm in texture. The texture of Slapan is much closer to a scone, or a muffin, but decadently rich with butter. They are not overly sweet, the dried fruit contributing a lot, so there is relatively little sugar added. Slapan are best served warm from the pan, split and generously buttered. Crisp outsides give way to a soft, cake-like centre, and with lashings of delicious butter melting inside, it’s a surprisingly rich treat.

Equipment

You don’t need a bakestone to cook your Slapan, a non-stick pan and a heat source with serve just fine. Slapan are baked, not fried, so there is no need to grease the pan. The traditional method is to spoon the mixture onto the bakestone using two spoons, but I found my small ice-cream scoop² much easier to use, in addition to making small, delightful 2-bite Slapan.

Slapan

Each batch makes approximately 12 Slapan. If you’re using gluten-free flour, then you may need to add extra flour (see note below).

120g plain flour/gluten-free flour³
60g chilled butter – cubed
20g sugar (caster or soft brown)
¼ tsp salt
scant ½ tsp baking powder
30-50g mixed dried fruit/currants/sultanas
1 large egg
2-ish tbs milk

  • Put a non-stick pan onto a medium (number 5 on my 1-9 electric hob) heat and let it come to temperature while you mix up the dough. if you’re using gluten-free  flour, you should delay this until the mixture half-rested.
  • Put the flour, butter, sugar, salt and baking powder into the bowl of a food processor and blitz until the mixture resembles breadcrumbs.
  • Crack the egg into a mixing bowl and add milk for a total of 90ml of liquid. Whisk together well (I use a stick blender), then add the flour mixture and dried fruit.
  • Fold together until the mixture forms a smooth-ish dough. The consistency should be like that of a fruit cake, or mashed potatoes. Definitely too soft to roll out.
  • Using a small ice-cream scoop, or two spoons, drop the dough into the now hot pan. Drop them around the edge, rather than the middle, so that they don’t scorch. Cooking them all at once will make it tricky to turn over, so do two batches of six or seven.
  • Bake for 5 minutes. A light crust will form on the bottom of each heap.
  • Using two cocktail sticks, carefully turn each Slapan over.
  • Bake for a further 3-4 minutes until the underside is as browned as the top.
  • Cool on a wire rack.
  • Split, butter and serve warm.

Bonus Recipe: Christmas Slapan

Here’s my own take on a Slapan variation, seen top right in the photo – with the addition of candied peel, mixed spice and a splash of booze. Much quicker to rustle up than mince pies.

120g plain flour/gluten-free flour³
60g chilled butter – cubed
20g soft brown sugar
¼ tsp salt
scant ½ tsp baking powder
½ tsp mixed spice
15g candied lemon and orange peel, finely chopped
15g dried cranberries or barberries
20g dried currants
1 large egg
1 tbs brandy
1 tbs cream sherry/madeira

  • Method as above.

¹ You need to sign up to be able to borrow books, but it is free, no strings attached.

² A small ice-cream scoop of 4cm diameter, roughly 30ml volume.

³ I’ve made this recipe with two different gluten-free flours. Schar’s Baking/Patisserie flour (red bag) contains a thickener (guar gum), and so the recipe took the same quantity of flour as regular flour. Dove’s Farm Freee gluten-free flour contains no thickener, and they recommend adding xantham gum when using. I didn’t have any, so I ended up adding more flour (60g in 2 batches of 30g) and allowed it to sit a while (20 minutes) to allow the excess liquid to be absorbed.

Fried Bread and Marmalade

20th century, Bread, Preserves

In the old days, when religious observance was a greater part of daily lives, as Lent approached, efforts were made to use up larder items in preparation for the coming period of abstemiousness. Bacon and eggs were eaten on Collop Monday, Pancakes (using the resulting bacon grease) were enjoyed on Shrove Tuesday, and Lent itself began on Ash Wednesday.

In the past few weeks I have been looking through various manuscript sources in order to find a shiny, new old pancake recipe for you to try, but, alas, my efforts have been thwarted at every turn due to the adorable (!) British quirk of different regions giving a specific dish their own local name.

I scrolled through the thousands of recipes in my spreadsheets and compiled the following list to look at in more detail:

  • Court pancakes
  • Million pancakes
  • Pancake pudding
  • Pancake wafers
  • Paper pancakes
  • Temple pancakes
  • Creeping pancakes

In Every. Single. Case. they turned out to be variations of the recipe most popularly known as A Quire of Pancakes: lots of small, thin, rich, cream-based pancakes stacked in a pile, with sugar strewn between each layer, and served like a cake slice (see image below).

Quire of Pancakes, 1714
Quire of Pancakes, 1714

So I’ve decided to go in a completely different direction and bringing you a recipe for Collop Monday, or alternately Shrove Tuesday breakfast, and in doing so, recording for posterity a dish I know my mother ate in her childhood: Fried bread and Marmalade.

When I first heard of this as a child myself, I thought it sounded awful, but as an adult, I have come to appreciate the delicious interplay of salty, sweet, bitter and smoke.

Slices of bread were added to the pan after bacon was fried and mopped up the remaining fat and in the process become toasted from the heat of the pan. They were fishes out and spread with marmalade and handed to my mother and her siblings.

Many modern packs of bacon, especially at the lower prices, are injected with water to artificially plump up the weight. When fried, it splutters and spits and seeps a milky liquid that is visually very unappealing. Back in the day – we ‘re talking 1930s here – the bacon would have been purchased from the butcher by the slice, possibly even home-cured by the butcher himself, and the dry-brining method employed drew out moisture from, rather than injecting it into, the slabs of belly pork used for bacon. In the pan the fat would render down into a clear liquid, filled with the smoky, salty flavour of the bacon. When cold, the fat would solidify and could be kept for use, but if this were impractical (it not yet being the age of ubiquitous refrigeration in the home) to use it up at once, it was easy to mop up the fat with slices of bread, which then became imbued with this flavour bomb as an alternative to the (more expensive) butter. It is easy to overdo the bacon fat, and it doesn’t take much for the bread to become overly greasy, so marmalade was a perfect foil to combat this: the bitterness of the Seville oranges and the sweetness of the jelly providing delicious contrasts to the hot, crunchy, salty, smoky bacon fat.

Back then, this snack was born from frugal-by-necessity living. My mother grew up in a one-income household. Nothing was left to waste. But that’s not a reason not to enjoy it today. And additionally, the level at which you enjoy it is completely adaptable – from simple to complex, the components are almost infinitely customisable according to what you have in the cupboard/fridge.

  • The Bread: Whatever you have to hand, or prefer: brown, white, pre-sliced, hand-sliced, doorstep, gluten-free, rye, sourdough… you get the idea.
  • The Bacon Fat: Kinda non-negotiable. I learned recently that Bacon grease is available to buy by the tub in the USA, and in checking online for this post I am slightly horrified to find a 9lb bucket now available to buy in the UK. If you’re a fan, then go for it, but my approach here is to be much smaller in scale – get your bacon fat from cooking bacon. Dry-cure bacon will render pure bacon fat without any white residue.
  • The Marmalade: Regular listeners will be aware of my keenness at the moment to find ways to use the various marmalades I have on hand after entering The Marmalade Awards this year. I have an embarrassment of riches on that score, but any marmalade will suffice. Use whatever you have and like. In the photographs I’ve gone with the Chilli Marmalade I made this year – classic Seville marmalade with fresh red chillies – it looks so pretty with the red flecks of chilli pepper, and the spiciness pairs well with the bacon.
  • The Bacon: Optional. If you want a more substantial snack, tuck in a few slices of your favourite. Smoke, unsmoked, back bacon, streaky bacon, gammon, ham… it’s all delicious.

Fried Bread and Marmalade

Slices of bread
Bacon fat (from dry-cure bacon/gammon)
Marmalade of choice
Bacon (optional)

  • I’m going to stray a little from the traditional preparation method. As mentioned above, the traditional method is to turn the slices of bread over in the fat in the pan, until they have both absorbed the fat and become toasted. Which is fine. Except it’s difficult to get an even colour on the bread – at least so I find. Also, I dislike having greasy fingers from the bread being fried on both sides, so I’m going to suggest the following:
    • Toast the bread in a toaster/under a grill, then spread the solidified bacon fat onto the hot toast with a knife, like butter. This way the toasting of the bread is even, it stays dry on the outside for cleaner eating, and you can easily control the amount of bacon fat used. If your bacon fat is still hot in the pan, use a pastry brush to dip in and then brush over the surface of your toast.
  • Spread your choice of marmalade onto the non-dry sides of the toast.
  • Add your bacon – or not – and enjoy.

Marmalade Cake

20th century, Cakes, Large Cakes, Preserves

The recipe I have for you today comes from the classic and ever-reliable Be-Ro baking booklet.


My copy dates from somewhere between 1930 and 1950 (going on the fashions worn in the illustrations), and contains tried and tested recipes both for the everyday and special occasions.

I chose this recipe for a number of reasons:

  • It tastes absolutely delicious.
  • It’s a genuine store-cupboard cake, requiring everyday ingredients.
  • It is an excellent way to use up last year’s marmalade to make way for this year’s batch(es).
  • It is an excellent way to start making use of this year’s batch of marmalade, bursting with freshness.
  • It can be varied with whatever preserves you have on hand (within reason).

It being marmalade season, I have recently been preserving up a storm and entering some marmalades in the annual Marmalade Awards competition.

The method I used was extremely small-batch, but still provided me with more than the single jar required for each entry. Now, this year I entered six categories. I have six lots of extra marmalade. So I was KEENLY in the market for some way to increase marmalade consumption.

Enter the Be-Ro booklet and its recipe for Marmalade Cake with its short list of simple ingredients: flour, fat, sugar, marmalade, eggs, milk.

I’ve increased the amounts of each ingredient to 1.5 times the original quantities, because I had almost exactly that amount of Stork baking margarine in the fridge, and the first cake was so successful I made a second with a different marmalade and used butter, which was just as nice.

A square lime marmalade cake with two pieces cut off and displayed, on a wooden cutting board.

The first cake was made with lime marmalade (see above pic) and was very delicate in flavour and the cake was soft of crumb. The second cake was made with Seville Orange marmalade (see recipe for Dundee Marmalade here), and was just as delicious, possibly even more so. The striking difference was the aroma when the cake was cut – it was like a cloud of intense orange that wafted up. Amazing. I would venture that you could also substitute the marmalade for other jams or preserves, with the caveat that it should be one of the stronger and preferably tart-flavoured fruit: apricot, plum, damson, etc. because the sharpness of the fruit is a delicious contrast to the sweetness of the crumb.

This isn’t the flashiest, most exotic bake you’ll make, but it is easy and very fine-tasting and can be whipped up in about an hour start to finish from the contents of your cupboard/fridge.

Marmalade Cake

This is for the enlarged mix, and requires a 20cm square tin.

170g butter/Stork
170g sugar
170g marmalade
340g plain flour + 1tbs baking powder OR 340g self-raising flour
3 large eggs
80ml milk

  • Heat the oven to 170°C, 150°C Fan.
  • Grease and line a 20cm square tin with baking parchment.
  • Cream the fat and sugar together until light and fluffy.
  • Add the marmalade and mix thoroughly.
  • Sift together the baking powder and flour if using. Otherwise, sift the self-raising flour.
  • Whisk together the eggs and milk.
  • Alternately add these two ingredient mixtures to the mixture in the bowl, stirring, until everything is fully combined.
  • Pour the cake mixture into the prepared tin and smooth evenly.
  • Bake for a total of 45 minutes, turning the tin around after 25 minutes to ensure even baking.
  • Allow to cool for 10 minutes in the tin, then carefully transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.
  • Store in an airtight container.

Christmas Spiced Butter

20th century, 21st Century, Pastry, Sweet Pastry, Tracklements

With only a month to go, I recently realised it’s high time I got my act into gear vis-à-vis some festive recipes.

I have for you here something that I’ve been making for the past few years and, with spectacular timing, only remembering about it come the 24th or so, which is far too late to go about suggesting people add to their military campaign-esque festive ToDo list.

I initially got the idea a few years ago whilst making a batch of Niter Kibbeh, the very aromatic Ethiopian spiced butter used in making the red lentil stew Misir Wat.

It is butter that is flavoured with seasonal spices, and is a doddle to make. I use clarified butter in the form of a tin of ghee, because delicious though browned butter is, the milk solids are easily burned. I simmer – although that is rather too strong a word for sitting on heat 1 of the hob, so perhaps ‘infuse’ is more fitting – whole spices and citrus peels and then allow the flavours to infuse overnight as the butter cools. The use of whole spices keeps the spicing soft – although I have opted to add in ground spices if the whole ones are unavailable. The only downside of using ground spices is that they will speckle the butter, being too small to strain out. Depending on your use of the finished butter, this may not be an issue. Next day, I slowly warm the mixture and, when melted, strain out the solids and pour the beautifully aromatic and flavourful butter back into the tin in arrived in, for ease of storage.

You are then free to use it wherever you see fit in your festive baking.

Brandy Butter and Spiced Hard Sauce: These are rich and delicious accompaniments to both mice pies and Christmas pudding. Equal quantities of icing sugar and butter are whisked with brandy, or indeed any alcohol of your choice, and/or vanilla to produce a light and frothy mixture that you can spoon onto your bakes where it will gently melt and turn into a sauce.

Mincemeat: In case you haven’t seen the recipe, my guilt-free Mincemeat (based on Hannah Glasse’s 1747 recipe) offers all the delights of traditional mincemeat, but without suet, fat or any added sugar and is both vegetarian and vegan. Delicious as it is, you can elevate it to luxury levels by adding a little Spiced Christmas Butter for added richness.

Pastry: Using Spiced Christmas Butter in pastry  adds a whole new dimension to your mince pies and other Christmas fare such as this Welsh cranberry tart.

Shortbread: Why not try your favourite shortbread variation using festive spiced butter?

What Spices Do I Need?

Basically, anything you like. Whilst this might not seem very helpful, I say it to illustrate just how much free reign you can have with this. Either stick to a more traditional mix (see below) or spice it up a little (excuse the pun) with some unusual bits and bobs. You can’t really go wrong, as using whole spices means there’s only ever a gentle flavouring.

A traditional mix might include:

  • cinnamon sticks
  • allspice berries
  • blades of mace
  • whole nutmegs (sliced)
  • cloves
  • orange peel
  • lemon peel
  • sliced ginger (fresh or dried)

Other items you may want to use include:

  • cardamom pods – both green and black
  • star anise
  • aniseeds
  • black pepper
  • cubeb pepper
  • long pepper
  • grains of paradise
  • vanilla
  • saffron
  • licorice sticks
  • caraway seeds
  • coriander seeds
  • cumin seeds
  • rosepetals

All of the spices should be whole, wherever possible. Use anything from 1tsp to 1tbs to your taste.

Spiced butter with different whole spices
Another version of spiced butter, this time with grains of paradise, cubeb pepper and aniseed.

Dietary Guidelines

As ghee has had all the milk solids removed, I would venture to suggest that it might even be suitable for the lactose intolerant.

If you are vegan, you can make your own version using solid coconut oil. If you’re not a fan of the accompanying coconut aroma, this odourless brand is available to order online.

Christmas Spiced Butter

I rarely recommend any particular brand, but in this instance I strongly urge you to seek out (it’s not that hard to find – most supermarkets carry this distinctive green and gold tin) East End ghee. It has a heady, perfumed aroma in its natural state, which greatly enhances the end product.

1 x 600g tin of East End ghee.
3-4 cinnamon sticks
1tbs whole cloves
1tbs allspice berries
4 blades of mace
2 whole nutmegs – sliced
thinly peeled skin of 1 orange
thinly peeled skin of 1 lemon
5 slices of fresh/dried ginger
5 star anise

  1. Put everything into a small saucepan.
  2. Cover and set on the lowest heat possible on your stove/hob.
  3. Leave to infuse for 1-2 hours.
  4. Switch off the heat and leave overnight.
  5. Next day, warm slowly over very low heat until melted, then strain the solids out by pouring through a sieve.
  6. When the butter has completely drained, pour it back into the tin.
  7. Label and store in the cupboard for use.

Cheese biscuits

20th century, 21st Century, Biscuits

Three recipes for you this week, all originating from a single idea. I thought I’d take the opportunity to show how it is possible to play with recipes you already know and love, and adapt a favourite one to different flavourings and pairings.

I was catching up on the latest season of the Great British Bake Off the other day, and for Biscuit Week the bakers were asked to make Viennese Whirls for their signature bake. I made a similar biscuit in Season Two – except I called them Melting Moments – so I was interested to see what variations this season’s bakers would bring to the table.

The range was wide and the flavour combinations a mix of both unusual and familiar (you can read more details on the specific flavourings/pairings here), and I got to pondering what I would have made. I think I would probably have gone savoury, and what better place to start than with my original recipe, and seeing if it could be tweaked to a more salty flavouring.

Obviously, the main stumbling block is the Melting Moments I made were sweet. Messing about with other recipes I’ve found that substituting cheese for the sugar on a 1:1 basis can get you a long way down the savoury route. I didn’t want the biscuits to spread much, and I also didn’t want the cheese to clump together and produce blobs, so rather than grating fresh from a block, I chose to use already-finely-grated Parmesan cheese (still fresh, just not grated by me). Test Batch 1 (a half batch of the original quantities – another Top Tip when you’re experimenting – no need for a full batch of anything until you get it right) was a straight substitution of cheese for sugar. To compliment the cheese, I also added dry mustard and ground nutmeg, as well as salt.

The results were cheesy-ish but also a little greasy, so Test Batch 2 involved more cheese (for taste) and more cornflour (to help with the greasiness). Batch 1 also didn’t hold their shape very well, but when I was looking at the tweaked ingredient proportions, I saw they were veering close to those of the best kind of shortbread (I made so many batches the proportions are burned into my brain), and so I opted to bake the dough in a shallow-sided pan, just like the shortbread. I didn’t want to dough to blister or rise up, so I poked holes in the dough, also like shortbread. The baking was also done long and low, and the result was absolutely delicious: strong cheese flavour, with the subtle hints of the mustard and the nutmeg rounding it out. The long, slow baking had toasted the cheese particles, which now had the bonus of adding little nuggets of crunchiness to the texture. Finally, cutting the cooked dough into pieces hot from the oven, then putting the tin back in as the oven cooled, made for a gloriously toasted flavour and appearance. It was an amazingly savoury, cheesy, shortbread, but a bit far from a Viennese Whirl.

In addition, the original prompt required a filling of some sort, so I went back to the drawing board and recalled a recipe for a favourite pull-apart bread flavoured with walnuts and blue cheese. After toying with the idea of adding the nuts to the biscuit filling, I opted for adding them to the biscuit dough, and making the filling with blue cheese.

Test Batch 2 was much better in terms of crumbly texture, but the flavour of the walnuts wasn’t really there. So for what would be the final Test Batch, I reduced the Parmesan cheese to keep it savoury but not intrusive, and toasted the walnuts. I kept the amount of cornflour the same, since walnuts have their own oil and this would also need to be absorbed in order to keep the biscuit texture. The result was just what I was going for: crumbly melt in the mouth biscuit texture, robust walnut taste with just a hint of Parmesan.

The last step was to sort out the filling. I opted for Saint Agur, which is a soft and creamy, relatively mild blue cheese, and mixed it with some cream cheese to make it pipe-able. These biscuits lack the piped form of traditional Melting Moments, so adding the swirl in the filling is a neat compromise. If you’re a blue cheese fiend, then use stronger-flavoured cheeses by all means – you might have to work a little harder to get them blended with the cream cheese. I don’t usually recommend brands, but Philadelphia cream cheese has the firmness and creaminess that is just perfect here. If you use a different cream cheese and the result seems a little watery or not as dense as you would like, you can firm it up by placing it directly onto 4-6 folded layers of kitchen roll (in a sealable plastic box or similar) and chilling in the fridge overnight. The excess moisture will be drawn out into the paper towel, firming the cheese mixture up and making the mix easier to pipe. If you don’t have the time to do this, just use your cream/blue cheese mixture as a dip. There is also a Saint Agur Blue Crème product with the cream cheese already mixed in. It is very smooth indeed, but too soft to pipe. Perfect to use as a dip, though.

So there we are. Arguably three different recipes (yes, yes – I know the dip is a bit of a stretch, recipe-wise) from a single inspiration. I do hope you try them, and then have fun experimenting with tweaking your own recipe favourites.

Cheese Shortbread with blue cheese topping and dip
Cheese Shortbread with blue cheese topping and dip

Cheese Shortbread

125g plain flour
50g cornflour
125g unsalted butter – chilled
½tsp salt
½tsp ground nutmeg
½tsp yellow mustard powder
50g ground Parmesan cheese

  • Heat the oven to 160°C, 140°C Fan.
  • Line a shallow baking tin with parchment. I used one of dimensions 26cm x 18cm, but a 20cm square would also work.
  • Put all of the ingredients into a food processor and blitz in brief bursts until the mixture comes together in a soft paste.
  • Press the paste into the prepared tin and smooth over. Using a skewer or a cocktail stick, poke holes evenly over the whole surface area.
  • Bake for 30 minutes, turning the tin around halfway through to ensure even baking.
  • When baked, turn off the oven, remove the shortbread and cut into pieces. I prefer to use my metal dough scraper, which is super thin, to get nice, clean, sharp cuts.
  • Put the shortbread back into the cooling oven, to finish off.
  • When cold, store in an airtight container.

Walnut & Blue Cheese Melting Moments

30g walnuts
125g plain flour
50g cornflour
125g unsalted butter – chilled
½tsp salt
30g ground Parmesan cheese

  • Toast the walnuts:
    • Heat the oven to 200°C, 180°C Fan.
    • Lay the nuts on a baking tray lined with parchment paper.
    • Bake for 8 minutes, turning the tray around halfway through to ensure even browning.
    • Set aside until cool, then chop with a knife into small pieces.
  • Put the remaining ingredients into a food processor and blitz in brief bursts until the mixture comes together in a soft paste.
  • Tip the mixture out onto a piece of parchment and knead in the chopped walnuts.
  • Lay clingfilm over the dough and roll it out thinly (5mm).
  • Slide the sheet of covered dough onto a chopping board and freeze for 20 minutes. The dough is very soft and chilling it hard will make cutting the biscuits out and transferring them to the baking sheet much easier and with no loss of shape.
  • Turn the oven to 160°C, 140°C Fan.
  • Cut the dough into biscuits using a plain 5cm round cutter. Lay the biscuits on a baking sheet covered with baking parchment. There’s little to no spreading during baking, so you can lay them as close as 1cm from each other.
  • Poke holes in the centre of your biscuits using a cocktails stick. Or not. I tried both ways, and to be honest, there wasn’t really a difference. Arguably the biscuits with the perforations, as in the photo at the top, maybe look a little more aesthetically pleasing, but not by much. You choose.
  • Bake for 30 minutes, turning the baking sheet around halfway through to ensure even baking.
  • Remove from the oven and allow to cool on the tins. The biscuits are rather friable when warm, so don’t be too eager to move them.
  • Store in an airtight container when cold.

Blue Cheese Filling/Dip

150g (1 pack) Saint Agur blue cheese
280g (1 large box) Philadelphia cream cheese

  • Remove both ingredients from the fridge and allow to come to room temperature.
  • Crumble the blue cheese into a bowl and mash with a fork or the back of a spoon until smooth.
  • Add half the cream cheese and mix thoroughly, making sure there are no lumps.
  • Add the rest of the cream cheese and mix until smooth and fully incorporated.
  • Fill a piping bag fitted with a 5mm star nozzle, and pipe onto half your biscuits.
  • Top with the remaining biscuits and arrange on a serving plate.
  • Use any remaining filling as a dip by adding a little cream/creme fraiche, yogurt until the desired consistency is reached.

Summer Ice-creams

20th century, 21st Century, Pudding

The brief green gooseberry season is upon us and their delicate but sharp taste is a wonderfully aromatic taste of summer. Reddish dessert gooseberries ripen later in the season, but the sharpness of the green is my preference. They’re a thorny bush, so be prepared for having multiple jabs in your hands. I picked some at a local Pick Your Own fruit farm. Top Tip: most berries conceal themselves on the undersides of branches, so always lift them up for maximum harvesting efficiency. If your local fruit farm doesn’t have PYO gooseberries (and many don’t, sadly) they can also sometimes be found in the freezer of your local Farm Shop.

After laying down a batch of my bi-annual batch of gooseberry vinegar (a doddle to make, but a year in the fermenting/clearing), I decided to make a batch of gooseberry ice-cream. As the owner of a tiny kitchen (2m x 3m), I have neither the counter/cupboard space for an ice-cream maker, nor the patience to keep stirring a semi-frozen mixture in order to break up the ice-crystals, so the ‘set it and forget it’ no-churn recipe employing sweetened condensed milk is pretty much a no-brainer in this household.

The method is practically the same as that given for Damson Ice-Cream from a couple of years ago: Mix most of a fruit puree into the cream/milk mixture, then ripple through a ribbon of the remaining puree and set in the freezer.

The means of obtaining your gooseberry puree is a little different than usual, mainly due to their water content, which will wreak icy-crystal havoc with your ice-cream if it is too high. Rather than simmer with water until they break down, the gooseberries are coddled in a closed vessel over simmering water. The result will be a clear-ish liquid (which can be poured off) and the fruit pulp, which is then used for the ice-cream. This approach preserves not only the colour, but also the flavour, as prolonged cooking and/or high heat impairs both.

The second recipe is my re-creation of an ice-cream I had several years ago in Yorkshire. It’s actually not really a summer ice-cream, because citrus isn’t really in season in July, but oranges are in the shops and marmalade is on the shelves, and I am in love with it, so here we are.

The bitterness of Seville oranges, just as the tartness of gooseberries, is the perfect pairing with this ice-cream method, because the condensed milk is SO sweet, it needs something sharp to cut through all that sugar. Interestingly, in developing this version, I did learn that there is such a thing as too much bitterness. An early version contained both the zest and juice of Seville oranges (which I keep in my freezer as frozen cubes for year-round zestiness), and while I liked the end result, it really leaned heavily into bitterness, so I had to dial it back somewhat. This version uses the zest of regular oranges and no juice, with the slivers of peel from the marmalade providing delicious pops of intense Seville bitterness, tempered with sugar.

Both of these ice-creams will need to be removed from the freezer for 20-30 minutes before serving, in order to soften.

Gooseberry Ice-Cream

I have left the gooseberries without sugar, as there is more than enough sweetness with the condensed milk. Feel free to add some sugar if you feel they need it.

500g green gooseberries

1 x 397g tin of sweetened condensed milk
600ml double cream

  • Put the gooseberries in a lidded pan without any additional water and set it inside a larger pan. Add water until the larger pan is half filled. Heat over medium high heat until the water is simmering and coddle the gooseberries until soft. if you don’t have suitable pans to do this, you can put them into a casserole with a close-fitting lid and bake in the oven at 170°C, 150°C Fan. for 20-30 minutes.
  • Tip the coddled gooseberries into a sieve over a bowl and allow the clear liquid to drain through. Set the liquid aside.
  • Rub the gooseberry pulp through the sieve until all that remains are the seeds. Discard the seeds and set the pulp aside to cool.
  • Put the condensed milk and double cream into a bowl and whisk together until light and billowly.
  • Fold through 3/4 of the gooseberry pulp until well combined.
  • Spoon the ice-cream mixture into containers and then stir through the remaining puree in a ripple.
  • Cover and freeze at least overnight before serving.
  • Waste not, want not: You can add sugar to the clear gooseberry liquid and simmer it down to a syrup to pour over your ice-cream.
  • Bonus: Add a splash of elderflower cordial to taste to the puree, but beware of adding too much liquid.

Marmalade Cheesecake Ice-Cream

There is a slight difference in the method of this ice-cream, in order to get the cream cheese fully incorporated with the other ingredients. There’s no added sugar, as the condensed milk add more than enough. The amount of marmalade you’ll need will depend very much on the whatever marmalade you are using. I used a jar of my Dundee Marmalade, which is quite peel-heavy, so I only needed one jar.  Top Tip: An efficient way to get your marmalade shreds separated from your marmalade jelly, tip your jar(s) of marmalade into a pan and warm it gently until the jelly liquefies, then pour it through a sieve over a bowl. The jelly can then be poured back into the jar(s) for use later. Cut your shreds into smaller pieces if liked.

100g of orange shreds from your favourite marmalade – about half a cup.

zest of 3 oranges
330g cream cheese, Philadelphia for preference – at room temperature
1 x 397g tin of sweetened condensed milk
600ml double cream

  • Put the orange zest and cream cheese into a bowl and whisk until smooth.
  • Pour in the condensed milk and whisk again until smooth.
  • Add the double cream and whisk until light and billowy.
  • Stir through the marmalade shreds.
  • Spoon the ice-cream mixture into containers.
  • Cover and freeze at least overnight before serving.

Serving suggestion

To emulate a regular cheesecake, serve with some crisp/crunchy biscuits – Digestive biscuits/Graham crackers are a favourite. I used amaretti in the picture because that’s what I had, and regular readers will know we don’t make special trips to the supermarket for just one ingredient.

Chipstead Churdles

20th century, Pastry, Savoury Pastry

I’ll be the first to admit that I love a good story behind a recipe. However, what winds me up no end are stories that have been made up to make a recipe appear more ‘authentic’ than it actually needs to be.

And so we have Chipstead Churdles. Chipstead is a small village in Surrey, southeast of Croyden. Churdle Pies are also claimed by Sussex, though I have yet to find any recipe predating this one.

These little triangular pasties are a pleasant way to enjoy the classic and flavoursome combination of liver and bacon, aside from the traditional grilling. As you’ve probably already surmised, they have also managed to develop quite a colourful, and largely fictitious, provenance. Touted online as ‘an ancient recipe’, ideal for the farm worker to stuff into his pocket as he headed out to the fields, no-one seems to know specifically where and when they date from, although I’ve read many a vague “…Seventeenth century…” claim.

Even without any provenance, neither the shape nor the style of the pies would appear to support this. These are tricorn-shaped pies – although easy to form, hardly the most robust nor the most practical of shapes – with the top being left open to be filled with a cheese and breadcrumb mixture (this crunchy topping being much more of a 20thC style). Any farm worker worth his salt would end up with a pocketful of crumbs within an hour.

No, in actual fact, the recipe actually originates in Doreen Fulleylove’s “Simple Country Fare” (1970). Now to me, that’s not that long ago – good gravy, I remember 1970 – but then I have to stop and remind myself that that is now over fifty years ago.

The Churdles name, however, can be traced back much further, all the way to the 1920s. In his fabulously-titled “Away Dull Cookery!” (1932), Earle Welby recorded an entertaining nonsense menu devised by the dramatist Henry Arthur Jones for his grandchildren. It is, perhaps, the greatest menu I have ever read, and I reproduce it below:

  • Pickled Trunnions
  • Filets of Poucher Bonne Femme
  • Baked Banbury Mush
  • Squibbles on Toast
  • Truffled Guffins
  • Boogoose Bordelause
  • Varicose Beans
  • Danderchits in Aspic
  • Wombles
  • Stuffed Spanish Crippets
  • Churdle Pie
  • Mulligatawny Fritters
  • Nostrum Roes à la Diable
  • Piblets
  • Trundleberry Gin

It’s on my ever-lengthening list of Things To Do to devise and make dishes for this menu.

But back to the Chipstead Churdles. It seems to me that a far more likely scenario would be for the name Churdle to have been borrowed to grace a heretofore unnamed but very toothsome pie. And there’s nothing wrong with that at all.

Chipstead Churdles

The savoury flavours of liver and bacon are here paired with mushroom, onion and sharp apple to make for a lighter and fresher mouthful.

shortcrust pastry

1 onion
30g unsalted butter
200g smoked back bacon, rind removed
200g lamb’s liver
60g mushrooms, chopped
1 small Bramley apple, peeled and finely chopped
2-3tbs chopped parsley
½tsp ground black pepper
½tsp salt

4tbs fresh breadcrumbs
4tbs finely grated strong cheddar cheese

1 large egg for glazing

  • Peel and chop the onion finely.
  • Melt the butter in a frying pan and add the onion. Fry gently for 8-10 minutes until softened and translucent.
  • Add the bacon and fry for a 1-2 minutes and then turn the slices over.
  • Add the liver and fry for 2 minutes, turning the slices over after 1 minute. This should cook the liver enough to remain pink in the centre. As it will be cooked again during the baking of the pies, you don’t want to overdo it at this stage.
  • Lift the meat from the pan and chop finely.
  • Scrape the cooked onion and butter into a bowl and add the chopped meat.
  • Stir in the mushrooms, apple, parsley and seasoning. Set aside.
  • Preheat the oven to 180°C/160°C Fan.
  • Roll out the pastry to a thickness of about 5mm.
  • Cut 8 circles of pastry 10-12cm in diameter. You can make 4 large pies, but the larger the pie, the more difficult the pastry is to handle.
  • Divide the filling into 8 and add one portion to the middle of each circle of pastry.
  • Damp the edges of the pastry with water.
  • Pinch the edges together to make a triangle base, folding the sides of the pastry inwards and pressing the edges together to make a three-cornered hat shape. Leave the middle of the pie open.
  • Mix the cheese and breadcrumbs and sprinkle one spoonful over the opening at the top of the pies, and transfer the pies to a baking sheet lined with baking parchment.
  • Whisk the egg with a tablespoon of water and use it to glaze the sides of the pies with a pastry brush.
  • Bake for 25-30 minutes until crisp and golden. Turn the baking sheet around after 15 minutes to help even the browning.
  • Cool on a wire rack.
  • Serve warm.