Tag: sweet

New College Puddings

Pudding, 17th century, 18th century, 19th century

New College Puddings is a recipe that has been around for centuries. It’s been on my radar for years, and when indexing recipes in manuscripts, it made frequent appearances. I was aware of the recipe basics – breadcrumbs, dried fruit, suet, fried – I acknowledged them, but never really paid much attention beyond wondering whether ‘new college puddings’ was just an updated version of a mysterious older recipe for ‘college puddings’. And the answer?

After some sleuthing, I discovered that they are named for New College, Oxford, founded in 1379 by William of Wykeham, Bishop of Winchester, as The College of St Mary of Winchester in Oxford. It became known as ‘New College’ in order to distinguish it from the other college dedicated to St Mary (Oriel College), which had been founded in 1326. So the recipe was actually ‘NEW COLLEGE puddings’ rather than ‘NEW college puddings’. It’s funny to think that an almost-650 year-old institution was, at one time, considered the Johnny-come-lately, modern upstart. Disappointingly, searching the modern New College website brings up precisely zero references to puddings.

Moving on…

For a long time, the earliest recipe for New College Puddings was in the “The Compleat Housewife” by E___ S___ (thought to be by Eliza Smith, but the book originally only ever had the author’s initials, until she passed away that is, whereupon the publishers had free reign to make up any old tosh, which they did). Below is the recipe from the 1728 Second Edition.

New College Puddings recipe from “The Compleat Housewife” by E.S., second edition, 1728.

Later in the century, Hannah Glasse included a recipe for Oxford Puddings (see below) in her 1747 “The Art of Cookery”, which is essentially the same recipe, except these puddings are served with a butter/wine sauce, whereas E.S.’s included sack in the mixture itself.

Recipe for An Oxford Pudding from Hannah Glasse’s “The Art of Cookery” (1747) p102

Both recipes consist of dry crumbs, suet, currants, sugar, nutmeg, with eggs to bind the mixture together, which is then shaped and fried in butter. Interestingly, the Glasse recipe is entitled “An Oxford Pudding” (singular) when it is very clearly made up of a number of small puddings, suggesting that this should more accurately be called “A pudding from Oxford”, thus tying in with the original E.S. recipe.

In the 21st century, an earlier recipe of impeccable provenance has emerged as a number of handwritten manuscripts have come to light. Radolphus (Ralph) Ayres was head cook at New College, Oxford in the early eighteenth century (approx. 1714-1725) and kept a manuscript of the many recipes he used. There are at least four known copies of this manuscript collection, which includes New College Puddings. His serving suggestion is to present them surrounding a wobbly, creamy Quaking Pudding.

Recipe for New College Puddings, Ralph Ayres Manuscript dated 1722. Images: Bellmans Auctioneers.

In addition, the manuscripts at the Wellcome Collection contain over 50 New College Pudding recipes, and when you add in recipes printed in books as well, there’s close to 100 recipes to choose from. For over three centuries this recipe was included in all the popular cookery books of the age, but their popularity waned in the 20th century, as more exotic sweet options became available.

This is a shame, since they are a wonderful example of making something delicious and satisfying  from almost nothing. Stale breadcrumbs, suet and dried fruit, a bit of sugar, an egg or two and suddenly it’s a hearty, warm and comforting winter treat. Minor details have changed over time – little additions to improve the taste or changes in cooking methods. With the cold winter days fast approaching, and high food prices forcing our hand with affordable food choices – whatever your situation, there is a New College Pudding recipe for you!

New College Puddings have all the warmth, comfort and flavour of a steamed pudding, but without the hours and hours of boiling/steaming. Using breadcrumbs instead of flour means that the cooking time can be drastically reduced and the only ingredient that actually needs any cooking is the egg. The mixture can be fried, baked and/or steamed and no cooking method requires more than 30 minutes. The texture and flavour is a cross between a steamed pudding and Christmas cake, and if that sounds like something you’d enjoy, you’re not going to be disappointed.

I’ve selected four subtly-different recipes for you to try, ranging from the earliest recipe I could find, to the most elaborate. Whichever one you choose – and I do hope you’ll choose at least one – you’re in for a tasty and comforting treat.

A College Pudding – 17thC

17thC College Puddings, from MS8097, Wellcome Collection

This is the earliest recipe I could find, definitely pre-1700, and its also one of the simplest. This quantity makes just 6 puddings – ideal for trying out to see if you like the style. There is no seasoning spice in this recipe, and, for me, it is noticeable by its absence. You might want to add 1tsp mixed spice just to get into the the steamed pudding mood.

17thC College Puddings from MS8097, Wellcome Collection

85g stale breadcrumbs
60g currants
50g dried suet (Atora brand in the UK, vegetarian or beef)
¼ tsp salt
1 tsp mixed spice (optional)
2-3 tbs packed dark brown sugar
1 large egg
1 large yolk
2tbs milk

milk to mix
butter for frying
caster sugar for sprinkling

  • Put all of the dry ingredients in a bowl and stir together.
  • Whisk the egg and yolk together, and add 2tbs milk.
  • Stir the wet ingredients into the dry. Add more milk if required. The mixture needs to be moist enough to hold together if pressed, but still hold its shape.
  • Rest for 15 minutes, to allow the liquid to be absorbed. If it’s still a little dry, add milk 1tbs at a time, until suitably moistened.
  • Shape your puddings. I used my silicone mould of cylinders, but I appreciate that not everyone has as much kitchen stuff as I do, so an alternative method would be to
    • divide the mixture into six.
    • Form each roughly into a sausage shape.
    • Wrap/roll each portion in plastic wrap.
    • Twist the ends tightly, shaping the mix into a smooth cylinder.
  • Chill the shaped mixture for at least 30 minutes in the fridge.
  • When ready to cook, remove the chilled puddings from their moulds.
  • Melt a generous lump of butter (about 50g) in a non-stick pan. Several of the recipes I’ve read advocate for huge quantities of fat – up to and including a pound of butter (but also suet, dripping and lard) – and for the pan to be constantly shaken to ensure the puddings don’t stick. Non-stick pans are our modern convenience for this.
  • Fry the puddings over medium-low heat (5 on an induction hob) until browned on all sides.
  • Remove the browned puddings from the pan and drain on paper towels.
  • Sprinkle a little caster sugar over the puddings and serve hot.

New College Puddings – c1798

New College Puddings recipe c1798, from MS960, Wellcome Collection

These puddings might be considered the next level in that there is a move to the overwhelmingly most popular/traditional shape, that of an egg. Other recipes I have read specify a turkey egg in size, which is roughly as broad as the palm of your hand, so a little more substantial in size. We also have the addition of spice in the form of nutmeg, and either some rosewater or sack to moisten the mix.

Finally, the dish is complemented with a wine and butter sauce. I chose to thicken the sauce with arrowroot, to give it a bit of body. You could substitute cornflour, but arrowroot is great for sauces as it thickens and clears, and also retains liquidity when cold, so the sauce pours well both hot and cold (in contrast to cornflour, which thickens a sauce when hot, but tends to set solid when cold). Arrowroot also thickens at a much lower temperature, well below boiling, and will actually lose its thickening qualities if it does boil, so you need to keep an eye on it.

For the puddings
75g dry breadcrumbs
60g dried suet
75g currants
½ tsp salt
30g soft dark brown sugar
1tsp ground nutmeg
1 large egg
1tbs rosewater or sherry/mead/ginger wine/Madeira/any favourite fortified wine
2-3tbs single cream,

Sauce:
60g unsalted butter
2-3 tbs packed soft dark brown sugar
120ml sherry/mead/ginger wine/Madeira/any favourite fortified wine
2tsp arrowroot
1tbs water

water to dilute (optional)

  • Put all of the dry ingredients in a bowl and stir together.
  • Whisk the egg, alcohol and milk together.
  • Stir the wet ingredients into the dry. Add more milk if required. The mixture needs to be moist enough to hold together if pressed, but still hold its shape.
  • Rest for 15 minutes, to allow the liquid to be absorbed. If it’s still a little dry, add milk 1tbs at a time, until suitably moistened.
  • Shape your puddings.
    • Divide the mixture into 4 and place each portion onto some plastic wrap.
    • Wrap the plastic around the mixture and press together into an oval shape.
    • Set aside in the fridge until required
  • Make your sauce:
    • Melt the butter in a pan.
    • Add the sugar and stir until the sugar is dissolved.
    • Mix the arrowroot with the water until smooth, then add the wine.
    • Pour the liquids into the sugar/butter mix.
    • Stir together over medium heat until the sauce loses it’s milkiness and thickens.
    • Taste your sauce and add water if liked. Since the sauce thickens below boiling point, a lot of the alcohol from the booze will still be present, so water it down if it’s all a bit much.
    • Set aside until required.
  • Fry your puddings:
    • Melt 50g butter in a non-stick pan.
    • Remove the plastic wrap from your puddings and place them in the pan.
    • Fry gently on medium-low heat (5 on an induction hob) until browned on both sides and hot in the middle.
    • Place puddings on/in a serving dish and sprinkle with caster sugar.
  • Reheat your sauce and pour over the puddings, or pour into a dish/jug and serve alongside.

Baked New College Puddings – 1840s

Baked New College Puddings, 1840s, MS4066 Wellcome Collection

These puddings are pretty similar to the above recipe, but have been adapted to being baked in the oven in buttered teacups. Nowadays we have a plethora of baking tins and moulds to choose from, so these are easily the most ‘hands-off’ puddings of the four.

Baked New College Puddings, 1840s, MS4066 Wellcome Collection

New College Puddings
120g breadcrumbs
60g currants,
30g raisins,
30g flaked almonds,
60g dried suet
30g candied orange or lemon peel, chopped fine
3-4tbs packed soft dark brown sugar
100ml double cream
2 tbs brandy
2 large eggs

4 individual pudding tins/large ramekins
butter for buttering the moulds
caster sugar for sprinkling

  • Butter your moulds generously and set aside.
  • Mix all the dry ingredients together in a bowl.
  • Whisk the eggs, cream and brandy together and stir through the rest of the ingredients. Don’t worry about having the mixture wet enough to stick together – the shape of the moulds will do all the work. It is enough just to have the crumb moist.
  • Divide the mixture into four and spoon into your pudding moulds/ramekins. Avoid pressing the mixture down, as it will make the resulting pudding dense and heavy. Cover each mould with foil, to retain moisture while baking.
  • Heat the oven to 180°C/160°C Fan.
  • Arrange the moulds on a baking tin and bake for 30 minutes, turning the tin around halfway through, to ensure even baking.
  • Remove the puddings and allow to cool for 5 minutes, then turn out onto plates/serving dish.
  • Sprinkle with caster sugar and serve.

Boiled and Fried Georgian New College Puddings – 1820s

Georgian New College Puddings, 18820s, MS1839, Wellcome Collection

There’s nothing very surprising with these puddings as regards ingredients, other than perhaps all the extra flavourings, but I was taken with both the quantities – the original recipe was for 16 small puddings – and the suggested improved cooking method of half boiling (steaming) followed by frying. These puddings are served with a butter-wine sauce, exactly the same as the sauce above, but this time made with white sugar.

Georgian New College Puddings, 1820s, MS1839, Wellcome Collection

It was very straightforward to scale down this recipe and make just four puddings, but they turned out to be, relative to the other New College Puddings – enormous. The same egg shape mentioned in other recipes, just much larger. I’ve deliberately used the same flatware in each of the photos to give some idea of scale, so you can see that I was unable to get even three on the serving plate without stacking them. Having made these, I think the reason for suggesting boiling (steaming) first, before frying, is two-fold: to heat the puddings through and also to help the puddings hold together better. Steaming cooks the egg, which holds the fruit and breadcrumbs together, and frying gives the outside a delicious crisp and buttery finish. I steamed the puddings in plastic wrap before removing it and frying.

Georgian New College Puddings

You don’t HAVE to make four puddings – use the mixture to make smaller ones (either 6 or 8), depending on what you are serving beforehand, as well as your guests’ appetites.

For the puddings
115g currants
115g currants
225g breadcrumbs
100g soft dark brown sugar
1½ tsp ground nutmeg
1 large egg
2tbs sherry/Madeira/Marsala or other fortified wine
60ml single cream, plus more to moisten

100g butter to fry
caster sugar for sprinkling

Sauce
60g unsalted butter
2-3 tbs white caster/granulated sugar
120ml sherry/mead/ginger wine/Madeira/any favourite fortified wine
2tsp arrowroot
1tbs water

water to dilute (optional)

  • Mix all the dry ingredients together in a bowl.
  • Whisk the egg, wine and cream together and stir through the rest of the ingredients.
  • Divide the mixture into four and spoon onto squares of plastic wrap.
  • Twist the plastic wrap around the filling and shape into an oval.
  • Place the shaped puddings into a steamer pan, with the plastic wrap ‘seal’ underneath. Cover the pan with a lid.
  • Bring a saucepan of water to a boil and place the covered steamer pan on top. Steam for 20 minutes.
  • While your puddings are steaming, make the sauce.
    • Melt the butter in a pan.
    • Add the sugar and stir until the sugar is dissolved.
    • Mix the arrowroot with the water until smooth, then add the wine.
    • Pour the liquids into the sugar/butter mix.
    • Stir together over medium heat until the sauce loses it’s milky appearance and thickens.
    • Taste your sauce and add water if liked. Since the sauce thickens below boiling point, a lot of the alcohol will be retained, so water it down if it’s all a bit much. Set aside until required
  • Remove the steamer pan from over the hot water and set aside for 5 minutes to cool a little.
  • In a large frying pan, melt the butter.
  • Unwrap each pudding and place into the pan. Fry a golden brown on each side.
  • Remove the puddings from the pan and drain on kitchen paper.
  • Reheat the sauce and pour into a mall serving jug.
  • Transfer the puddings to your serving dish and sprinkle with caster sugar.
  • Serve the puddings with the sauce alongside.

Apploffi Pie

20th century, 21st Century, Pudding

Recipe inspiration can come from many quarters. The prompt for today’s recipe comes in the form of four words in a newspaper article over 20 years ago.

Back in March 2006, The Guardian published a piece by Ian Dowding entitled “I Invented Banoffi Pie”. Dowding then spends the rest of the article chronicling how he did NOT invent the classic pudding loved by millions, rather how it evolved from an original pie – Blum’s Coffee Toffee Pie – from the famous Blum’s Bakery and Restaurant in San Francisco in the 1940s.

The owner of the restaurant where Dowding was employed felt that the dessert needed a little something extra, so experiments were conducted introducing various ingredients, including fruit.

“Apple was quite good”  is the phrase that set me experimenting. There was no recipe included, although I have found examples by other people out there which involve a simple substitution of apple for banana, but I felt the dish deserved something more to set it apart.

There were a number of points to ponder:

  • The base.
  • The caramel.
  • The fruit.
  • The cream topping.

The Base

The original Banoffi Pie recipe called for shortcrust pastry, whose plainness was just the foil needed against the richness of the filling. Could this be improved upon in some way? I’m a real fan of the original shortcrust pastry, especially my version using cornflour for a proportion of the flour, as it makes it fabulously crisp and dry, and it is a great foil against the very rich sweetness of the caramel and banana. But using apple is a whole different kettle of fish. Banana is a really strong flavour, and  while apples are characterised as being crisp and juicy they’re not really  strongly flavoured. So I started thinking about a different kind of base that might contribute to the mix a little more than plain pastry. Since salted caramel is very much a thing in recent times, leaning into the savoury seemed a promising direction. I was reminded of the saltine crust of the Atlantic Beach Pie that was all the rage back in 2014, decided to mix in some pretzels for extra crunch, and then make the whole crust gluten-free, because why not? The Italian company Schar produces a wide range of gluten-free products, many of which are available on UK supermarket shelves. I chose their Salti crackers, which are like a cross between a Ritz cracker and a Saltine, and their pretzels. Obviously, regular crackers/pretzels are fine too.

With the addition of a little salt, this was still pretty much a regular crumb crust, except I had a brainwave and opted to use browned butter. It turned a fairly straightforward crumb crust into a buttery, crunchy, salty, rubble-y, nutty delight that is just incredible against the caramel/apple/cream, and positively addictive on it’s own. Very autumnal and just the perfect pairing with all the other elements. I’m slightly obsessed with how good it is and am now thinking of all the other dishes I can use it with.

The Caramel

Classic. Not to be messed with. No notes.

That being said, you can choose whether to buy tins of caramel, or make your own, which is cheaper and less sweet than the tins of caramel. To make your own, put unopened tins of sweetened condensed milk into a slow cooker and add water to cover. Cook on Low for 8-10 hours. Switch off the slow cooker and leave to cool overnight. UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES open a tin while it is hot. Buy your unbranded condensed milk from Aldi – other supermarkets seem to be carrying the (much more expensive) named brand only these days.

The Apple

Which apple to choose? There are so many, dessert and cooking types. Jazz apples are my current favourite dessert apple with a crisp, clean and juicy bite. Rough-skinned russet apples have an almost nutty flavour, and go great with a variety of cheeses. My number one pick of fresh apples, however, is Bramley apples – a British cooking apple that is pleasantly sharp and breaks down into billowy apple fluff when cooked. You could slice and use it raw, but the juice might become a problem if left for a while, not to mention the discolouration, so cooked apple is probably the best way to go here. If you prefer a dessert apple, consider using a little lemon juice to sharpen it. To help prevent the juice from weeping out of your cooked apple, you can thicken your pulp with a little cornflour.

Other Apple Options

I thought of this after finishing up all the taste testing and using up all my apples, but you could also use gelatine to set your pulp. Bloom it in water, either sheet or powder, and then add to your hot apple pulp and stir well until it melts and is well combined. Pour over your caramel.

A third option would be to use Apple Butter, a favourite autumn preserve made mainly in the United States, which is already seasoned and spiced, and solid when cold. The apple flavour is much more rich and concentrated and is definitely something I would have chosen, had we not already scoffed all of the last batch I made.

The Cream

The unsweetened cream flavoured strongly with coffee was the original, classic recommendation. I was puzzled after reading the above article – and wasn’t sure if it was it supposed to go with the apple version as well. I had my doubts, so I decided to taste-test a number of flavouring options for the cream as follows:

    • Coffee, (unsweetened) – Not a fan. I was going to go as far as ‘revolting’ but that seemed a bit harsh. For my palate, the bitterness just jars against the sharpness and freshness of the apple.
    • Lemon (sweetened juice) – Had potential, as it goes well with apple, but it did not tie in with the caramel at all.
    • Vanilla (unsweetened) – Pleasantly surprising. Having it unsweetened made it  a little unusual, but it was great with both the apple and the caramel, and the sweetness of both more than made up for it.
    • Unflavoured – I don’t know whether it was because all my flavouring thoughts had turned out to be less than a roaring success, but I decided to try just plain whipped cream – no flavourings, no sugar. And, ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner. It was great with the apple, great with the caramel, and great with the brown butter base. Sometimes the simplest idea is the best.

So there we have it. A cracking autumnal variation on a classic crowd-pleaser whipped up from just a 4-word prompt!

Apploffi Pie

If you already have a favourite Banoffi Pie recipe, you can just swap out the banana for the cooked apple. However, I strongly recommend trying the brown butter cracker crust – it’s a taste sensation!

Use whatever tin/dish you prefer. I used a rectangular, loose-bottomed fluted tart tin. As in the picture, you want to aim for roughly the same depth for each of the layers – crumb/caramel/apple/cream – Mine is about 1.5cm.

Browned Butter Pretzel/cracker base

250g unsalted butter – divided
60g GF pretzels
90g GF Salti crackers
2tbs soft dark brown/muscovado sugar
½ tsp salt

  • Put the block of butter into a pan over a medium (level 5 on my induction hob) heat. You’re not going to use all of the browned butter, but it’s difficult to calculate how much fresh butter will make just the right amount of browned butter, because the water content of the butter isn’t set in stone. Much simpler to make a whole block into browned butter, use what you need and then you have delicious browned butter to use on other things.
  • Allow the butter to melt, and continue to heat, stirring occasionally. The milk solids will eventually start to turn brown and will release an amazing, nutty caramel aroma. This will take about 10-15 minutes. It will happen quicker if you raise the heat, but this will also speed up the browning, making the line between toasty brown and burnt very sudden.
  • Stir more frequently as the solids brown, and remove from the heat once they are sufficiently toasty.
  • Set aside to cool.
  • Prepare the tin you are going to use. I like to line the tin with foil to help remove the pie once set and ready to serve.
  • Put the pretzels, crackers, sugar and salt into a food processor and blitz to crumbs. NB if you’re using salted butter, reduce the salt to ¼ teaspoon.
  • Tip the crumb mixture into a bowl.
  • Stir your browned butter and measure out 75g. Save the rest to use on popcorn or to make more crumb mixture! NB Keep giving your butter a stir as it cools, so the delicious browned bits are mixed throughout – otherwise they will just all sink to the bottom.
  • If your butter has started to solidify, warm it with a brief zap in the microwave.
  • Stir the butter into the crumb mixture until well mixed. It should clump together if you press it firmly.  Press the crumb into the bottom and sides of your tin. Use a flat-bottomed glass to get a smooth, compact finish on the bottom. Fingertips are probably best for the sides.
  • Heat your oven to 200°C, 180°C Fan.
  • Bake your crumb shell for 10 minutes, then set aside to cool. The baking will help solidify and firm up your tart shell.
  • Chill in the fridge until needed.

Caramel

1 tin sweetened condensed milk OR 1 tin caramel.

If you are catering for large number, you might want to use 2 tins, but in all honesty, the dish is so rich, one tin is enough for 8 servings.

  • As I’ve already mentioned, making your own caramel from sweetened condensed milk is both cheaper and better than buying it pre-made – the finished caramel is firmer and not as sweet. You do whatever suits your situation.
  • To recap making your own: put unopened tins (do several at once and keep the spares in the cupboard for EBS (Emergency Banoffi Situations)) of sweetened condensed milk into a slow cooker and add water to cover. Cook on Low for 8-10 hours. Switch off the slow cooker and leave the tins to cool overnight. And, just to belabour a safety point UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES open a tin while it is hot.
  • Warm your caramel gently in a pan so that it is easier to pour. As it warms, stir to remove lumps. If you are using your home-made caramel, which has a firm set, you might want to use an immersion blender or hand mixer to get rid of any lumps. Tins of ready-made caramel have a softer consistency.
  • Pour your smooth, warmed caramel over your chilled crumb shell. Spread it evenly and smooth over.
  • Cover with plastic wrap so that it touches the surface of the caramel and chill until required.

Apple Layer

300g OR 1 rounded cup of fresh apple pulp (made from 3 Bramley apples OR 5-6 dessert apples) OR apple butter

OPTIONAL: the juice and/or zest of one lemon to sharpen the pulp

EITHER 1tbs cornflour mixed with 1tbs water OR 2 tsp powdered gelatine OR 2 sheets gelatine

  • Put your apple pulp into a pan and heat through.
  • Taste your pulp and add the lemon zest/juice if liked.
  • If using cornflour…
    • Mix the cornflour with the water until smooth.
    • Stir the cornflour slurry into your warm apple pulp and cook for 1-2 minutes until the pulp thickens and no white from the slurry remains.
  • If using gelatine…
    • Bloom your gelatine in water according to instructions.
    • Add the bloomed gelatine to your heated apple pulp and stir thoroughly to combine.
  • If using apple butter, just warm it enough to make it pourable.
  • Pour your thickened apple over the caramel layer and spread smooth.
  • Cover your apple layer with plastic wrap and chill thoroughly in the fridge until set.

Cream Layer to finish

300ml chilled double/heavy cream
ground cinnamon to sprinkle

  • Whip the cream until it holds its shape.
  • Spread the whipped cream over the apple layer of your pie and swirl it artistically. Alternatively, just spread it like I did.
  • Sprinkle the top of your Apploffi Pie with ground cinnamon and serve.

 

Apple Fritters

17th century

The Wellcome Collection has digitised thousands of resources related to the medical field, including hundreds of manuscripts, and made them freely available online. Many of these manuscripts also contain cookery recipes, because the food and medicines were considered the domain of the female head of the household, and so everything was kept in the one volume. The usual practice was to have medicinal receipts written in the front of the book, and then the book was turned over and the food recipes were written starting in the back of the book, and thus appeared upside down when reading the book left to right.

Over the centuries, household manuscripts became more food oriented and the medicinal recipes reduced to instructions for health salves and powders, but home cures can still be found in these hand-written treasures well into the 19th century.

As already mentioned, these resources are freely available, and over the years I have downloaded and indexed almost 300 of the manuscripts containing food recipes. My spreadsheet of recipes from just the Wellcome Collection stands at just over 35.5 thousand entries, and I have also branched out into indexing collections from the National Library of Scotland, McGill University collection The Folger Shakespeare Library and the Leeds University collection. They all make for a huge resource when looking for recipes for specific ingredients or recipes from particular eras.

This week, I was looking for apple recipes. I had over-estimated the number of Bramley (cooking) apples I needed for a recipe I was trialling (It did not go well. I was not inspired to tweak it. Let us speak of it not), and so had two large specimens in the fruit bowl needing to be used while still green, shiny and crisp and before they collapsed into a floury heap.

After a quick flip through the Wellcome Collection spreadsheet, I’ve got nearly 800 recipes to choose from. And the recipe I landed on was Rare Fritters (rare in this context meaning exceptional, especially delicious). Or should I say, recipes. Because the same recipe appears twice in the spreadsheet, from two different contemporary sources.

Screenshot of a spreadsheet of indexed recipes
Screenshot of a spreadsheet of indexed recipes

One is from the household manuscript book of Grace Carteret, 1st Countess Granville (1654-1744), dated 1662-mid 18thC.

Recipe for Rare Fritters, Grace Carteret, MS8903, Wellcome Collection

The second is from an anonymous manuscript dated 1675-c.1725

Recipe for Rare Fritters, Anonymous Manuscript, MS1321, Wellcome Collection

Written in thankfully legible hands, it is obvious that they are two versions of the same recipe, with the only slight differences being in spelling. This makes the recipe all the more interesting, because it comes from an age where there were very few printed cookery books from which this recipe could have been copied. We’re talking England at the time of The Restoration, peak Merry Monarch era (Charles II). There’s no like recipe in Gervase Markham’s The English Hus-wife” (1613), Robert May’s “The Accomplisht Cook” (1660), nor Hannah Wolley’s “The Queen-like Closet or Rich Cabinet” (1670). Similar, yes – but nothing with these ingredients/instructions/quantities. And that’s kinda it for 17thC cookbooks[1].

Which begs the question; how did this recipe end up in two different household books? Perhaps these ladies knew each other – they’re certainly of the same era. Did they exchange recipes directly, or is there an as-yet unknown publication from which they both copied? The answer is obviously rhetorical, but I do like to ponder such things.

ANYHOO…

The recipe is, as they say, an absolute banger. In modern terms, they are apple fritters. The mix of flavourings and spices means you can really taste the 17th century – in a good way! The flavours are more complex and the texture more refined than modern recipes, which tend to use large, cubed, dessert apples and rely on baking powder to provide aeration. Cooking apples, in general, break down during cooking more easily than dessert/eating apples. Bramley apples in particular break down into an incredibly light fluff. It’s almost magical. In this recipe, with the short cooking time, the pieces of apple are still visible, but they are just barely holding it together, so you when you bite into the fritters, you get an amazing apple taste with seemingly no tangible textural evidence of apple.

Apple Fritters

I made a half-batch of the original recipe, which still made a very  generous quantity. You could halve it again, for an even smaller batch, but then you run the risk of disappointment when they’re all gone in five minutes.

Makes 20-30, depending on size

200ml milk
large pinch of saffron
2  large eggs
1 large yolk
300ml double cream
80ml fortified wine (cream sherry/mead/ginger wine/madeira/marsala)
2 tsp rosewater
1 tsp ground nutmeg
½ tsp ground mace
½ tsp ground cloves
½ tsp salt
1 sachet fast-action yeast
450g (2 large) cooking apples (Bramleys recommended)
250-300g plain flour (or Gluten-Free flour + 1 tsp xanthan gum)

oil for frying
caster sugar for dusting

  • Put the milk and the saffron into a small pan and heat it until scalded (little bubbles around the edge of the pan.
  • Remove from the heat and allow the saffron to steep for 30 minutes.
  • Use an immersion blender to combine the soaked saffron threads into the warm milk (optional).
  • Add the saffron milk, eggs, yolk, cream, fortified wine, rosewater, spices, salt and yeast to a medium bowl and stir to combine.
  • Peel and core the apples and grate on a mandolin fitted with a thin grating blade. Chop the resulting pile of apple ‘sticks’ across with a knife to make the shreds smaller.
  • Stir the apple shreds into the wet ingredients.
  • Add flour to thicken.  How much flour will depend on the moisture content of the wet ingredients. I suggest starting with 250g and adding the rest if necessary. The final texture should be similar to a fruit cake mixture just before you put it in the tin. Not very helpful if you’re unfamiliar with fruit cake recipes, so I’ve been sitting here trying to think of another scenario, so how’s this: a little bit firmer than a bolognese sauce. Firm enough to hold it’s shape if you mound it up in the bowl, but still be moist.
  • Cover the bowl with plastic and set aside to rise for 1 hour.
  • Once the dough is risen, heat some oil in a pan, or a deep-fat fryer if you have one, to 170°C.
  • Drop pieces of dough into the hot oil and fry until cooked and golden brown. Don’t ‘knock back’ the dough – you want to keep as much of the aeration as possible.
    You can use two spoons, but an ice-cream scoop is by far the easiest option, if you have one. I have two – a regular-sized one and a mini scoop. Dropping a level scoop of dough into the oil will result in an almost spherical apple fritter. The size of the piece of dough will dictate how long it is cooked. The dough will double in size during cooking.

    • If you use a large scoop, the cooking time will be 8 minutes.
    • If you use a small scoop, the cooking time will be 6 minutes.
  • Don’t cook too many at one time, as it will cool the oil too much and may cause the finished fritter to be greasy. I suggest 6 small fritters or 4 large, maximum. Left to their own devices, the fritters should flip themselves over naturally when the bottom is cooked, but due to the dough not always being perfect spheres, you may need to flip them over yourself halfway through cooking.
  • When cooked, lift the fritters from the pan and shake to get rid of most of the oil.
  • Lay the cooked fritters onto 2 or 3 sheets of kitchen paper to drain any remaining oil, and allow to cool. Don’t stack them on top of one another in a bowl, otherwise they’ll just get squished. You want the outsides to harden a little before adding the sugar, so that they hold their shape.
  • When they have cooled to just warm, sprinkle over caster sugar. You can also put the caster sugar into a ziplock bag or large bowl and roll/toss the fritters until coated. Even though there is no sugar in the actual recipe, rolling in sugar made them a little too sweet for my tastes. I suggest sprinkling first and adding more later if liked.
  • Any left when cold (good luck with that!) can be stored in an airtight container.

 

 

 

[1] The main ones, at least. Elinor Fettiplace’s Receipt Book (1604) is a private family manuscript not printed until 1986. John Evelyn’s “Acetaria: A Discourse of Sallets” (1699) and Thomas Tryon’s “Wisdom’s Dictates” (1691) both being very late published and containing no fritters.

Afghans

20th century

These biscuits are surprising. Surprisingly long-lived, surprisingly few ingredients readily available in your cupboards, and a surprisingly rich and addictive taste and texture. They’ve been around almost a century, and with that fact you immediately know they must have something special about them, because terrible recipes just don’t hang around. To illustrate this fact, allow me to introduce Ann Peckham’s Crimson Biscuits.

Crimson Biscuits from Ann Peckham’s The Complete English Cook (1767, p151)

Yes, these delightful beetroot confections were first printed in Ann Peckam’s The Complete English Cook, back in 1767, and, even the 18th century fervour for cookbook plagiarism couldn’t tempt anyone else to put it in with all the other stolen recipes. I know it’s a bad recipe because many years ago I made it. And even accounting for the differences in gastronomic tastes back then, I find it difficult to believe anyone ever found this appealing.

But back to Afghans.

I noted this recipe whilst flicking through one of my many Women’s Institute cookbooks, specifically Tea Time Treats (1980), published by the Yorkshire County Federation of Women’s Institutes. And it’s not the only book to have included this recipe, or at least a version of it. It can be found dotted through many recipe books, although, truth be told, not so much in recent years and I’m wondering if it has something to do with the name. I’ve pondered long and hard on whether there is something derogatory about the name and have come to the conclusion that, if there is, it is because you think there is. The Afghan biscuit originated in New Zealand in the 1930s and whilst there are a variety of theories on the origins of it’s name, I’m choosing to believe that the name comes from the appearance of the topping and biscuit together, which resembles to the traditional pakol hat worn by Afghani men and/or the biscuit alone symbolising the rugged Afghan landscape.

The two earliest recipes cited by Wikipedia, come from The Timaru Herald, in late 1933 and early 1934 (below).

Earliest recipes for Afghans: Timaru Herald, Volume CXXXVII, Issue 19590, 9 September 1933, Page 3 (L) and Timaru Herald, Volume CXXXVIII, Issue 19883, 21 August 1934, Page 12 (R).

The earliest recipe I was able to find myself, and one which I am using in this post, appears in a 1941 edition of the New Zealand Journal of Agriculture (below).

Recipe for Afghans from The New Zealand Journal of Agriculture Vol. 62, Issue 4, April 15th, 1941 p304.

A notable ingredient – and there are only five – is cornflakes, which not only give each biscuit the aforementioned rugged appearance but also an amazing crunchy texture – which persists even when storing the biscuits in an airtight container. The biscuit mixture is also unusual in that it contains a greater quantity of butter than flour. However, it also contains a generous quantity of cocoa powder, which is very dry, despite being composed of 20% fat (and in many baking instances can be used as a substitute for flour on a 1:1 basis).

The recipes in The Timaru Herals also include a small propprtion of cornflour, thereby technically bumping the number of ingredients to six. I tried this variation, as I love the texture it brings in, say, Melting Moments, but it didn’t seem to add anything to the texture in this instance. The flavour of the biscuits came across as powdery and the texture seemed a little off – perhaps it was fighting with/against the already dry cocoa. Anyways, it was not for me – I feel the texture is best with just the cornflakes. Try it yourself (by removing 30g plain flour and adding 30g cornflour) if you’re intrigued.

Afghan biscuits with alternative topping ideas: Melted dark chocolate (L) and chocolate icing (R), each topped with half a walnut. A line of plain, unadorned biscuits in the middle.

Toppings

As can be seen from the early recipes, the traditional adornment for Afghans is chocolate icing and half a walnut. Rather unhelpfully, the early recipes fail to provide a suitable icing recipe, so I have gone in search of answers.

The Edmonds Cookbook, the iconic New Zealand publication (akin in stature to the BeRo booklet in the UK and early publisher of an Afghan biscuit recipe), suggests a buttercream made by mixing a large quantity of icing sugar, cocoa, a generous amount of butter and vanilla flavouring, with a couple of tablespoons of hot water. I tried this version and it was very pale and gritty from the cocoa powder. Cocoa really needs both liquid and heat in order to mix in properly.

Several modern Afghan recipes recommend plain, melted chocolate. Afghans are not an overly sweet biscuit, so I thought this version might be more of a success – the richness and smoothness as contrast to the biscuit itself, but it was not to be. There was actually too much texture contrast between the biscuit and the chocolate and they fought, rather than complimented each other. In addition, it needed a significant amount of chocolate in order for the half walnut to adhere.

After some experimentation, the best icing version came from an adaptation of the original buttercream. By using less butter and also melting it as well as using boiling water, the cocoa combined into a much smoother mixture. Easily spreadable and glossy, it sets once cooled, but with no loss of shine. The walnut attaches easily into the soft icing and is held firmly in place when it cools.

All this being said, I’m not entirely convinced that the biscuit actually needs any gilding at all. The richness of the butter content, the depth of the chocolate flavour and the texture of the cornflakes make for a much more substantial and interesting biscuit than normal. My recommendation would be to enjoy these biscuits unadorned, but if making for a special occasion/gifting, then add some glamour with the icing/walnut.

Afghan Biscuits

As already mentioned, these biscuits require only five cupboard staples. They are easily adapted to gluten-free by switching out the plain flour for a gluten-free one, but be sure to remember to add xanthan gum (guess what prompted me to mention this), otherwise they will just spread and pool together into one huge sheet (ask me how I know this will happen?). If this happens, just crumble it up and enjoy with a spoon, or over cereal/yogurt. Still delicious. Ask me how I know this 😀

Easiest method is to use a stand mixer, but hand-held/by hand is also fine.

200g butter – softened
85g soft dark brown sugar
180g plain flour (or GF flour with ½ tsp xanthan gum)
30g cocoa powder
85g cornflakes

  • Heat the oven to 180°C, 160°C Fan.
  • Sift the flour and cocoa together into a bowl.
  • Cream together the butter and the sugar until light and fluffy.
  • Add the cocoa/flour and mix until combined and resembling large crumbs.
  • Add in the cornflakes and mix briefly. The flakes will be crushed a little by the mixer attachment, so only mix until they are combined with the rest of the ingredients, and no longer. You want to still be able to see them, so don’t mix/crush them into powder.
  • Prepare two baking sheets by covering them with baking parchment.
  • Spoon or scoop dollops of the mixture onto the baking sheets. I use my small 4cm-ish diameter ice-cream scoop, which gives 26-28 portions, but you could use 2 spoons/forks and really lean in to the whole rugged appearance vibe.
  • Bake for 20 minutes, turning the baking sheets around after 10 minutes to ensure even baking.
  • Cool the biscuits on the tins and store in an airtight container once cold.

Fudgy Chocolate Icing

If you prefer to use melted chocolate for your biscuits, you will need approximately 200g. Otherwise, use the icing below.

200g icing sugar
25g cocoa
50g unsalted butter
30ml boiling water

walnut halves

  • Sift together the icing sugar and cocoa
  • Melt the butter, add the boiling water, and pour both into the cocoa/sugar mixture.
  • Stir vigorously with a spoon until the mixture comes together into a glossy paste.
  • Top each biscuit with a spoonful of icing and press a walnut half into the top.
  • Store in an airtight container once cooled and set.

Manchets

19th century, 20th century

Another two-for-one recipe for you this week, based on traditional regional recipes: Guildford Manchets and Lardy Buns, both from the county of Surrey.

Both of these recipes come from Elizabeth David’s classic English Bread and Yeast Cookery (1980). I’ve grouped them together because, with one slight difference, they are made the same way. Also, I like how they are related to two other recipes I’ve already published, from other countries.

According to Mrs David, the recipe for Guildford Manchets originates from “The Surrey Cookbook”, a collection of recipes gathered and published by the Women’s Institute in 1932. The Lardy Buns are listed immediately following, and so the inference is that these too come from Surrey. Whilst it is conceivable that these recipes stretch back into the 19th century, I think it would be a mistake to claim they are medieval in origin, just because they are called ‘manchets’. Yes, there were, of course, medieval manchets, but I’m not entirely sure these are them. I am reminded of the furore that occurred back in 2020 when an American researcher claimed the Cornish pasty was actually ‘invented’ in Devon – the audacity! – merely because he had found the word ‘pasty’ in a 17thC document in the Devon archives.  (Sidebar: I almost got a detached retina from the degree of eye-roll that bit of guff precipitated, especially given the fact that, for starters, the National Archives at Kew hold a document from 1296 that mentions “Simon Le Pasteymaker”.)

ANYHOO…

Both buns are made in the same way, by rolling in additional fat to plain bread dough, the only difference being that Guildford Manchets are made with a combination of lard and butter, and Lardy Buns are made solely with lard. The method is similar to that used to make flaky pastry: rolling out the dough, dotting over the fat, then folding and re-rolling, repeated three or four times. In times past, housewives could buy plain dough from the local baker, and use it for their own needs. It’s a shame that nowadays, the only non-standard purchase we are able to make from a bakery is fresh yeast.

Guildford Manchets

These two recipes are similar to two other traditional recipes I’ve already published. The Guildford Manchets bear a close resemblance to the Kouignettes, the small versions of Kouign Amann, except for the type of fat used and the lack of sugar. Whilst the ones I made for the photo are rolled round, a simpler method would be to cut the rolled dough into squares, fold the corners into the middle, and bake them in small foil baking tins. In Mrs David’s version of Lardy Buns, the use of cutters and the cross-hatching on the top make them very similar to Hungarian Pogácsa, minus the fresh dill. Lardy Buns are still made today, in a small village bakery in Surrey: “Celebration Cakes” in Cranleigh. They make them their own by poking two holes in the top, instead of using the cross-hatching. To my mind, it makes the baked buns look like the snouts of pigs (very cute and very appropriate, given the use of lard in their making).

Lardy Buns

In terms of flavour, the Lardy Buns are definitely on the savoury side, and pairs well with meats and cheeses. Fantastic for ‘breakfast sandwiches’, if that’s something you like. The insides, whilst bready-y, are layered and soft, and the outsides are crispy, like the crust of a pork pie.

The Guildford Manchets have a much richer flavour, thanks to the butter, and are crisp, but also slightly softer overall. More towards a flaky pastry texture. They are equally suited to both sweet and savoury toppings/fillings.

I’m going to combine the methods for both recipes. Best started the night before, the recipe below makes about a dozen (12) of each item. Re-rolling the offcuts from the Lardy Rolls won’t give you the same polished finish, but they will be just as tasty. Baker’s perks! No waste!

Manchets Two Ways

Makes 12 of each type of manchet. You can scale the recipe down by halving it, if you’d prefer to make just one. To make the dough easier to handle all the rolling and folding, chill overnight in the fridge (covered) after the first rise.

For the dough
600g strong white bread flour
1 sachet fast-action yeast
1 tsp salt
water to mix

For Guildford Manchets
60g lard, softened
60g butter, softened

For Lardy Buns
120g lard, softened

To glaze
whole milk

  • Mix the flour, yeast, salt and water (400-500ml, depending on the moisture content of your flour) into a dough.
  • Knead for 10 minutes until smooth, then cover and set aside to rise for 1 hour.
  • Tip out the dough and flatten with the palm of your hand. If you’re chilling the dough overnight, fold the dough into a neat rectangle, wrap in plastic and place in the fridge.
  • When ready to make up the rolls, if making the Guildford Manchets, mash the softened butter and lard together with a fork.
  • If you’re making both types of manchet, divide the dough in half and repeat the following with each half, using the different fats.
  • Roll out the dough into a long rectangle.
  • Dot one third of the fat over the top two-thirds of the dough.
  • Fold the bottom third of the dough upwards and the top third downwards. Turn the folded dough 90° to the left.
  • Repeat the rolling and folding two more times, until all the fat has been used.
  • Roll and fold the dough one final time, without adding any fat.
  • Roll the dough out into a rectangle about 2cm thick
  • For Guildford Manchets
    • Cut the dough into 12 squares.
    • Fold each corner into the middle, then repeat with the ‘inbetween’ edges, pinching them together firmly.
    • Turn the folded dough over, and roll under your cupped hand to form into a smooth ball.
    • Place on a baking sheet lined with parchment.
    • Alternatively, use mini foil pie tins like these, as used in this recipe, and simply fold in the four corners before dropping them into the foil tins. This will help preserve the layers by keeping the fat from running out of the dough and also reduce the possibility of the buns bursting at the seams. No need to cut the buns before baking is using this method.
  • For Lardy Buns
    • Use a small (5 or 6cm diameter) round cutter to cut out the buns.
    • Place on a baking sheet lined with parchment.
  • Set the buns aside to rise for 30 minutes.
  • Heat the oven to 220°C, 200°C Fan.
  • Brush the risen buns with milk, then cut a criss-cross of diamonds into the top of the Lardy Buns and a single deep cut across the top of the Guildford Manchets. OK, here’s the thing. The original instructions for the Guildford Manchets, as reproduced by Mrs David, were to ‘dock through the centre only’ – the logic of which is understandable –  it both lets out steam during baking and exposes the wonderful layers beneath. But as may be observed from the photo, it does also mean that the end result is a bit  ‘Georgia O’Keef’. If you don’t see it, then I urge you to remain in blissful ignorance – it’s probably for the best. Because as we have learned before, baking can be a bawdy business at times. *coughs awkwardly* Moving on…
  • Bake the buns for 20 minutes, turning the trays around after 10 minutes to give an even colouring.
  • Cool on a wire rack.
  • Best served warm.
  • Store in an airtight container.

 

Sticky Toffee Crumble

20th century

It struck me recently that I haven’t posted many pudding recipes of late – and this is a bit of a failing, because who doesn’t enjoy a nice pudding for breakfast at the end of a delicious meal? Consequently, I thought I’d pick a recipe from one of the books on my shelf, and so here we are with a tale of one recipe, two puddings. Two variations on classic British dishes that are sure to delight young and old.

Now – SPOILER ALERT! – I have a few cookbooks  and I must confess I have not read all of them cover to cover. So I’ve decided to make a concerted effort to dig into them more frequently, to hunt out the culinary gems that might be languishing inside.

My current selection is a slim paperback volume entitled “Party Treats: Ulster Home Cooking At It’s Best”. No author, no publication date (my guess would be 1980s/1990s), no introduction, in fact none of the conventions of a published book, it’s just straight into the recipes, no messing about.

In all honesty, some of the recipes leave a bit to be desired in terms of details: the lack of oven temperatures and timings in this book reminds me of the classic manuscript recipes of the 1700s which end with an airy “and so bake it”.

ANYHOO…

The recipe that caught my eye – because it was mentioned on the back cover – was Sticky Toffee Crumble. Quite piqued my interest, because I am a fiend for a good crumble, especially one including oats.

However, when I turned to the relevant page, what I found was a recipe for, essentially, Banoffi Pie Crumble. Not what I was looking for, but then again, nothing to be disappointed about either.

Sticky Toffee Crumble recipe, from Party Treats (Anon., date unknown)

I decided I was still going to try it, and just to make things interesting, make it gluten-free. I also substituted my own crumble topping recipe from this pie (also very delicious – you should go try this one as well!) and my favourite cornflour shortcrust pastry. Since I also renamed the recipe and added baking times and temperatures, I managed to replace practically everything in this recipe bar the initial inspiration. That’s just the way the pudding crumbles.

And it was everything I hoped, with added crumble! The dry crispness of the cornflour pastry is a fantastic contrast to the richness of the caramel filling, and the buttery saltiness of the crumble. The oats add great texture and the cooking of the bananas really intensifies their flavour. I experimented with the placement of the bananas, since the original Banoffi Pie called for them to be placed on top of the caramel, but beneath the caramel is definitely the way to go: as can be sen in the top picture, their colour and texture are preserved. Bananas placed on top of the caramel (and under the crumble) became dark and chewy – not altogether a bad thing – but having tasted both, the way stated in the original recipe is by far the best.

All these positive points notwithstanding, it wasn’t the original Sticky Toffee Crumble, which had originally drawn me to this recipe.

So I set off on a hunt for a Sticky Toffee Pudding recipe that could be adapted to the crumble pudding of my imagination. I didn’t have to look far because I came across “The Flavour of Britain” (1978) edited by Kenneth Mitchell (available at The Internet Archive). Not because it is a best seller – I have no idea how successful it was – but because of the provenance of the recipe, in small text, at the bottom of the page:

Acknowledgement to: Sharrow Bay Country House Hotel, Lake Ullswater, Cumbria.

As some of you may know, the Sharrow Bay hotel was where Sticky Toffee Pudding (STP) was popularised in the 1970s by Francis Coulson and Robert Lee. Sidebar: the Wikipedia page claims the pudding was invented in Yorkshire in 1907, with no reference to back the claim, which is disappointing in several ways. Do better, Wikipedia.  As far as recipe provenance goes, this is pretty definitive, in my opinion, so it is the one I’m going with.

Now, aficionados  and experienced makers of STP will already be aware, the raw mix for the pudding is incredibly liquid, much more so than even a sponge cake batter, so adding crumble to the raw mixture is just not going to work. After a bit of experimentation, the solution is to add the crumble during baking, when the mixture has cooked enough to support it, but also while there’s still time enough for the crumble to bake through.

And so with all that, LET’S GET READY TO CRRRRUUMMMMBLLLLLE!!! (I am so sorry)

Banoffi Pie Crumble whole and sliced, showing the effect of baking on banana position: top slice with (pale) bananas under the caramel, bottom slice with (darker) bananas on top of the caramel.

Banoffi Pie Crumble

Serves 4-8 people

(In the UK) You can buy tins of Carnation Caramel (sweetened condensed milk transformed into the toffee filling) in the supermarket. I find it sweeter than the older, traditional method of making your own, and the set is not as firm unless well chilled in the fridge. Alternatively, you can make your own by putting tins of regular condensed milk into a slow cooker filled with water (enough to cover the tins well), and cooking on Low for 8-10 hours (I usually cook them overnight). NB DO NOT open tins until completely cooled.
Serving suggestion: Just to reinforce the origins in Banoffi Pie, you could serve this crumble, warm or cold, with the original topping of unsweetened whipped cream flavoured with espresso coffee powder, on the side.

I made 4 x 10cm square small-ish tarts. The resulting tarts were quite substantial and one tart would make a generous serving for 2 people, hence the range of serving portions suggested above.

Cornflour Shortcrust Pastry
60g cornflour
225g plain gluten-free flour (I used Doves Farm GF White Bread flour) [1]
140g butter
ice-cold water

  • Put all the dry ingredients into the bowl of a food processor and blitz until the mixture resembles breadcrumbs.
  • Gradually add the water, one tablespoon at a time, until the mixture comes together in a ball.
  • Knead smooth, then roll out thinly (3-4mm).
  • Cut baking parchment to fit your tart tins.
  • Line your chosen tart tins, first with the parchment paper, then with the pastry, easing the pastry into the corners/sides.
  • Leave the excess pastry overhanging the sides and put the tart tins to rest in the fridge until required.

Crumble Mixture
30g butter
30g lard
30g light Muscovado sugar
90g Doves Farm gluten-free plain white flour
1/2 tsp xanthan gum
1/4 tsp of salt
60g gluten-free steel-rolled oats[2]

  • Put everything except the oats into a food processor and blitz briefly until the mixture resembles breadcrumbs.
  • Pour the mixture into a bowl and add the oats. Stir to combine.
  • Set aside until required.

1 x 397ml tin sweetened condensed milk (OR a tin of Carnation caramel)
2-3 bananas

To Serve
300ml double cream
1-2 tsp espresso coffee powder

  • (The day before) Turn your condensed milk into caramel by cooking in a slow cooker for 8 hours. Allow to cool.
  • Make the shortcrust pastry as above.
  • Heat the oven to 200°C, 180°C Fan.
  • Retrieve the tart tins from the fridge and trim and crimp the edges.
  • Slice the bananas and arrange the slices in the bottom of the tart tins.
  • Open your tin of caramel and tip into a small pan. Warm gently (it makes it easier to spread).
  • Add just under 90g of caramel to each tart. Spread evenly over the bananas.
  • Spoon ¼ of the crumble mixture onto each tart.
  • Arrange the tins on a baking sheet and bake for 30 minutes, turning the tins around after 15 minutes to ensure even colouring.
  • Set aside to cool.
  • If liked, chill in the fridge once cooled, until required.
  • To Serve: Whisk together the double cream and the espresso powder and serve on the side.
Sticky Toffee Crumble

Sticky Toffee Crumble

I used a 20cm square tin for this. The recipe says it serves six, but when I measured out the dimensions for six servings, they were alarmingly large. Of course, serving numbers are just arbitrary numbers. With a spoon and a can-do attitude, referring to this as a ‘serves one’ recipe could prove just as valid. ANYHOO… What with the overarching sweetness, the addition of the crumble and the rich indulgence of the sauce, I’m going to recommend this as sufficient for 8-12 servings. Whether those servings are subsequently all consumed by the same individual is beyond my purview and we can gently lower the cone of discretion over the whole subject.

60g Stork margarine or softened butter
175g soft, dark brown sugar
1 large egg
200g Doves Farm gluten-free plain white flour
1tsp xanthan gum
1tsp baking powder
250ml water
175g pitted dates, cut into small cubes
1tsp bicarbonate of soda
1 tsp vanilla extract

Crumble mixture (see above)

Toffee Sauce
150g unsalted butter
200g soft, dark brown sugar
100ml double cream
¼ tsp salt

  • Line a 20cm square tin with baking parchment.
  • Heat the oven to 180°C, 160°C Fan.
  • Pour the water into a small pan and bring to the boil.
  • Remove the pan from the heat and add the chopped dates, bicarbonate of soda and vanilla. Stir. Set aside to soften for 5 minutes.
  • Sift together the flour, xanthan gum, baking powder.
  • Put the fat, sugar and egg into a bowl and whisk until combined.
  • Add the flour mixture in two batches, stirring well until combined.
  • Add the date mixture – yes, including the water – and mix thoroughly. Get right to the bottom of the bowl with a spatula to ensure everything is fully combined.
  • Pour the mixture into your prepared tin.
  • Bake for 25 minutes.
  • After your cake has been baking for 25 minutes, lide the shelf with the tin on halfway out of the oven and sprinkle over the crumble mixture. Make sure it gets right to the edges/corners.
  • Gently slide the shelf back into the oven and bake for a further 20-25 minutes, until the cake is cooked through and the crumble on the top crisped and lightly browned.
  • Remove from the oven and set aside to cool slightly.
  • Mix the toffee sauce.
    • Put all of the ingredients into a small saucepan and heat gently, while stirring, until the butter has melted and the sugar dissolved.
    • Simmer over a gentle heat for 3-5 minutes until ready to serve.
  • Slice the cake into portions and serve with the sauce either poured over, or on the side.

 

[1] You can also use plain gluten-free plain flour, but be sure to check if it contains xanthan gum. Doves Farm Gluten Free Plain White Flour does not. You can add it yourself – 1 teaspoon for this quantity of flour. Xanthan gum is available in the gluten-free aisle of most supermarkets.

[2] I prefer the gluten-free oats sold in Morrison’s because they look like regular steel-rolled oats. Whatever process is involved in removing the gluten, it seems to take a very large toll on the gluten-free oats sold by other brands, and they come out looking very crumbly and ¾ of the way to flour. The Morrison’s GF oats look altogether prettier.

Apple Cream

18th century, Pudding

Recently, I was browsing my collection of manuscript recipes, looking for something suitable for the upcoming Mothers Day, also known as Mothering Sunday.

I have already posted about the original Simnel Cake, which has more recently morphed into a marzipan-layered fruit cake. But to be honest, my reaction to thoughts of doing anything with marzipan is, pretty much as it has always been:

Blanche from The Golden Girls sighing heavily.

I know it’s very much a part of traditional baked goods in the UK, but exposure to the neon-yellow, heavily almond-flavoured monstrosity of my youth has left its scars. Some day I shall get around to rehabilitating my taste-buds, but for now, to paraphrase the words of Syrio Forel: What do we say to things with marzipan? Not today.

So I decided to go another way and make something that many manuscript authors decide is important enough to be recorded in their book: a recipe from their own mother. The recipes they wish to preserve are many and varied, ranging from jams and marmalades, custards, pastry, cheesecakes and puddings, to spiced meats, possets, biscuits, cakes and more.

Handwritten recipe for Apple Cream, from a manuscript dated circa 1725, MS1343, at the Wellcome Collection
Apple Cream, circa 1725, MS1343, Wellcome Collection

This recipe from Deborah Branch’s manuscript, dates from 1725, the early years of the Hanoverian Era. It is a simple recipe, with arguably just three ingredients, and it suggests to me that it is a treasured childhood memory: Cooked apples, bread, custard. It is served cold, and can be assembled just before serving, if more suited to your circumstances. The textures play a large part in the enjoyment of this recipe: the firm, coldness of the cooked apple, the lightness of the cream and the crunch of the toasted bread are very ‘toothsome’, as they used to say. The recipe suggests assembling and then chilling, however this will impact the crispness of the toasted bread, so I would recommend making and chilling everything, then assembling when required.

A word or two about the ingredients.

  • Apples: I’ve tried this recipe with both Bramley cooking apples and (Cox’s) eating apples. Both are good in different ways. The Bramleys are much bigger (so fewer are needed) and are less prone to holding their shape. Time the cooking just right and they have a fantastic texture, soft on the outside and firm yet still cooked in the centre, but even if they tip over into fluff, their flavour is still wonderful, especially if you’ve used either light or dark brown sugar. Eating apples hold their shape much better and are a great contrast against the crisp bread and creamy custard. Personally, I prefer to use Bramley apples – their sharpness is a great contrast against the sweetness of the toasted buns and cream.
  • Bread: the original recipe just calls for ‘slices of bread’ to act as a base, but this didn’t seem to offer much, especially not in texture. I recently read a recipe for a trifle that had the bread toasted, and I thought that sounded much more exciting (yes, dearest gentle reader, I really did just admit to toast sounding exciting. Hey, I live in the wilds of the countryside, we gotta take our entertainment where we can!). You can tinker with this recipe merely by changing the bread you choose – airy sourdough,  an enriched brioche, even dark rye bread or malt loaf. I chose to go with spiced hot cross buns, as a nod to the Easter season in general, and I can highly recommend this option.
  • Cream/Custard: despite the title, the cream proved to be a rich custard made with egg yolks and cream. I’m always pondering the type of cream they mean in old recipes, because here in the 21st century we’re rather spoiled for choice. But you can use the same tweaks here as for the bread option: I used single/pouring cream, but you could enrich it by switching to whipping, double, extra thick or even clotted for a real indulgence. The ‘set’ wasn’t very firm – and I liked that – but if you prefer a set to your custard cream, just add a rounded teaspoon of cornflour (mixed to a slurry with milk) to the eggs and sugar.

Apple Cream c.1725

This recipe can be customised to both your liking and your needs. I offer the following quantities as a guide to serving four people, but the quantities of each can be doubled for large appetites/extra portions.

Bramley Apples x 2 ( ½ an apple per person)
OR
Eating/Dessert Apples x 4 (1 apple per person)
4 tbs sugar – caster, light or dark brown

2 x Hot Cross Buns

300ml single cream
3 large egg yolks
1-2 tbs caster sugar – or more to your taste
flavouring – 1tsp rosewater/orange flower water/vanilla/lemon zest – or other
1 rounded tsp cornflour & milk to mix (optional)

  • Cook the apples: Peel the apples and cut into halves. Remove the cores. Sprinkle over sugar to your taste. About 1tbs per half-apple.
  • Add the apple halves to a pan with a lid (preferably a glass one so you can easily keep an eye on the apples as they cook.
  • Sprinkle 1tsp water per apple into the pan, just to keep the sugar from scorching until the juices start to run.
  • Cover the pan and turn the heat to low (4 on my hob).
  • Allow the apples to poach gently until just cooked through – for Bramley Apples about 15 minutes, eating apples will be closer to 20 minutes.
  • Switch off the heat and allow the apples to cool in the pan. When cold, transfer them and any juice to a dish and chill in the fridge until required.
  • Toast the bread. Tear your buns/bread into small pieces and spread out on a baking sheet.
  • Toast the bread under the grill until crisped and turning brown at the edges.
  • Cool on the baking sheet and when cold, transfer to a ziplock bag or airtight container until needed.
  • Prepare the cream. Pour the cream into a small saucepan and bring to a gentle simmer – when the edges are just bubbling.
  • While the cream is heating, whisk the yolks with the sugar. If you’re using cornflour, add the slurry now.
  • Pour the scalded cream onto the yolks, whisking, then return the mixture to the pan.
  • Whisk the custard over medium heat until it has thickened. Take care it doesn’t boil, as it will turn the cream grainy.
  • Remove from the heat, stir through your flavouring and set aside. If not assembling immediately, cover the surface with plastic wrap to prevent a skin forming.

To Assemble

You can make this recipe in a large trifle bowl, but I think individual servings are much more attractive.

  • Cover the base of your dish with toasted bread/buns. If your bread has softened put it into the oven to crisp it up. Alternatively, prep and chill the cream and apples beforehand and toast the bread just before serving.
  • Arrange your cooked apples (or apple fluff if your Bramleys went a bit too far) over the toast. Drizzle any juices over as well.
  • Spoon your custard cream over the apples. I like to leave gaps here and there to allow the other ingredients to peep through.
  • Top with chopped/flaked nuts, sugar crystals, candied fruit or whipped cream as liked.

 

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.