grump·y adj. grump·i·er, grump·i·est - Surly and peevish; cranky.

Thursday was a grumpy day: grey, raining and August for God’s sake!  I almost got run down three times on the way to work, then was forced to miss two deadlines due to a combination of faulty systems and late vendors... I got soaked huddled in a doorway over a tupperware of lukewarm soup for lunch and utterly drenched on the cycle home.  By the time I got home, I. Was. GRUMPY!

Thankfully, I spent an hour in self-imposed solitary confinement, making dinner for my family.  They arrived, blissfully not hangry or the evening would have ended in tears before it even began.  Every time I see them they're laden with gifts, this time it was hundreds of jam jars, two baby ferns a lavendar and (joy of joys), a spare rolling pin.  Move over cling filmed bottle! 

Months ago, one of the presents Mum and Dad brought me was some Greek honey from my Aunt and Uncle’s house in Poros.  What a difference good quality honey makes -  usually it's too cloying and sickly sweet for my tastes but this stuff is amazing!  You can actually taste the citrusy flowers... It seemed fitting to turn some into Baklava... so never having tried to make it before I found this recipe to follow.

While on the Greek theme I decided to start the meal with a dip made from yellow lentils called Fava.  I was introduced to it in Poros and am hooked!  It's a similar concept to hoummus but much more interesting and terrifyingly more-ish!  Apparently, it's a winter dish but who could restrict themselves to eating something so good for just quarter of the year?

And so, with good food and a healthy dose of denial I forgot the rain drumming on the roof and got lost in a case of the warm and cosys.  This morning dawned a perfect day – cool air, warm sun... life and leftovers are good...

Fava:

Soak the lentils overnight in cold water.  The next day drain and rinse then place in a pan with the garlic.  Cover in fresh water and bring to the boil. 

Boil until dry and very soft – you may need to add more water during the cooking if it dries out  before the lentils collapse, just keep an eye on it. 

Leave to cool then stir in a really generous drizzle of good quality olive oil and the lemon juice. 

Top with the red onion and capers and drizzle with more olive oil.  Mix at the table and serve with toasted pitta breads to dip.

Baklava:

Preheat the oven to 180˚C. Toss the mixed nuts and cinnamon together. 

Butter the inside of your chosen dish.  Place two layers of pastry in the bottom of the dish and sprinkle with approximately 3tbsp of the nut/cinnamon mixture.  Place another double layer of pastry over and brush with butter. 

Repeat until your ingredients are used up – finish with pastry as the top layer.  Cut the raw baklava into individual portions.  I believe diamonds are traditional?

Bake in the oven for approximately 50 minutes or until golden and crispy.

Meanwhile during the last 20 minutes of cooking place the sugar, water and lemon zest in a pan and gently heat until the sugar is dissolved.  Simmer 20 minutes until the pastry is cooked.

As soon as the pastry comes out of the oven spoon over the sugar syrup.  Sprinkle with the chopped pistachios.  Finally, gently heat the honey until it is liquefied and drizzle over the top.

Leave to cool completely and serve with greek yogurt and/or vanilla icecream.

Fava: (serves 4)

4 handfuls of yellow split lentils

1 clove of garlic, peeled, whole

Olive oil

1 lemon, juice

1 small red onion, finely diced

2tbsp capers

Pitta  breads, to serve

Baklava: (serves 4-6)

250g mixed nuts, chopped

½ tsp ground cinnamon

1 pack of filo pastry

100g butter, melted

75g water

75g sugar

75g honey

¼ tsp lemon zest

50g pistachios, chopped

The fat lady sang...

Last night some friends and I went to watch the Royal Opera House's Cinderella on a big screen in Trafalgar Square.  After work, we arrived with glowering skies overhead (ahhh... the beautiful British summertime!) and a hotchpotch homemade picnic dinner in hand...  Everyone had made an offering: there were Cornish pasties, sausage rolls, cheese scones, scotch eggs and smoked salmon on seedy bread.  For dessert we had jam tarts and raisin scones with the mandatory clotted cream and raspberry jam...

One day I’m sure I will eventually develop some self-control, but until that time greed reigns supreme...  I ate more than my share of absolutely everything and am still stuffed just thinking about it.  In a very out of character revelation I’m considering skipping lunch!?  (...I must be unwell...)

We arrived at the free screening with a minimum of fuss... that is except for the slightly confused friend who arrived at the actual opera house instead of the free screening - informing the security guard he should let her in as (didn’t he know?) she didn’t need a ticket, this evening’s performance was most definately free!

Once we managed to get everyone in the right place (and after the ridiculing wore itself out) the evening turned extremely civilised – we’ve learnt a fair bit about being prepared over the years... and what an incredibly well stocked impromptu picnic we turned out!  There were gin and tonics, wine, picnic blankets, cutlery, jugs, crockery, inflatable cushions, warm blankets, waterproof ponchos...  Before the start of the performance, there was some group guilt as the area got busier and busier: we were surrounding a mountain of food taking up the space of at least three extra people.  But priorities are priorities!

Light supper for five...

I’m not sure the girls were particularly bothered about the music (more attention was plied to the lead lady’s back-fat than her singing capabilities) but thanks to an enjoyable picnic and some great “background music”  I might even be able to convince them to go again!

Antony Worrall Thompson’s Cornish Pasties: 

First preheat the oven to 200˚C.  Then, roll the pastry out until about as thick as a pound coin.  Cut circles however big you want your pasties to be, bearing in mind they will be half the size of the original template.  I made (very approximately shaped) circles about the size of a side plate; AWT suggests a dinner plate.

Cut the swede, potato, onion, carrots and meat into small dice approximately 5mm to ensure they all cook at the same speed.  

Mix all of the filling ingredients and season to taste.

Brush the edges of the circles with some of the beaten egg.  Arrange the filling on one half of each circle.  Fold the other half of the pastry over the filling and pinch then crimp the edges so that a seal is formed.  Try not to overfill; I wasn’t able to resist the temptation which meant pasties groaning at the seams... Not a pretty sight but possibly prophetic of how I feel today...





Put the pasties on a baking sheet lined with parchment and brush the tops with more egg wash.

Cook the pasties for 20 minutes at 200˚C and then reduce the temperature to 160˚C and cook them for another 40 minutes.  They can be eaten hot from the oven or eaten cold when left to cool on a wire rack to stop the pastry from going soggy.

Antony  Worrall Thompson’s Cornish Pasties (makes 8 small pasties):

450g shortcrust pastry

450g beef, trimmed and diced

1 large onion, diced

3 small carrots, diced

100g swede, peeled and diced

2 cloves garlic, crushed

175g new potatoes, diced

1tbsp thyme leaves

½tsp white pepper

A pinch of salt

1 egg, beaten (egg wash)

Pastry is the enemy!

Years ago a friend presented me with a recipe book dedicated to pies in the hopes that I would be inspired to experiment and consequently he would reap the pastry encrusted rewards.   I found several great recipes (two listed below) which have become favourites, but had yet to brave making my own pastry (I hadn’t even glanced at a pastry recipe since “the marble counter incident”... but more on that later).  Genetically I am predisposed to be bad at pastry making.  I have hot hands (with cold feet oddly enough – although yes, ok – that doesn’t affect my pastry making prowess) and nowhere near enough patience.  Last weekend I decided that it was high time I stormed my pastry-phobic fortress and tried my hand at a recipe for mini Apple and Calvados Pies, as a birthday food parcel for that same pie-hungry friend.

In an attempt to get ahead of the game and shuck my poor pastry track-record I decided to have a look for as many helpful tips and techniques as possible.  The number one tip which appeared on almost every site was to keep the pastry as cool as possible: chill the ingredients; use your fingertips (which are the coolest part) to work the dough; use a marble work surface and so on...

Unfortunately marble alone is not enough to cure my pastry woes: while I was still at university, dad bought mum (who is also pastry-challenged) a marble work surface and rolling pin (one assumes this too was a slightly self-motivated gift).  One of the few times it was used resulted in an enraged phone call to let them know that it was all their fault: due to the defective genetics which had been passed on to me I had not only failed at making pastry – I had gotten so angry about it I had smashed the marble work surface by hammering it into submission with the rolling pin.  Needless to say, they weren’t convinced of their allocation of the blame. 

My new plan of attack was simple; chill everything and keep hands cold at all times.  I opened all of the windows and doors, changed into summer clothing even though it was raining and ran my hands under the cold tap at regular intervals.  Finally – victory!  Pastry you may have won countless battles but I’ve finally discovered a way to win the war...

Firstly measure out the dry ingredients.  I have been told that baking is like a science, where every measure must be accurate to keep the ratio of fat and flour correct.  Obviously with my scales I haven’t got a hope of exact measurements (one solitary grain of sugar can often cause the dial to jump erratically by 100g).  Thankfully it still seemed to work.

Once the dry ingredients are measured, sift them together from a height to lighten the mixture (very messy unless your aim is a darned site better than mine!).

Next add the chilled butter, rubbing it in until it resembles coarse breadcrumbs (using the same technique as making crumble topping).  Lift the mix well out of the mixing bowl during this stage so that as much air is incorporated as possible. 

Add the chilled, beaten eggs one by one, mixing in between.  Slowly add the rest of the chilled liquid to achieve the desired consistency.  If too much liquid is added the pastry becomes too sticky and impossible to work with, if you have to add more flour at this late stage it becomes tough (what a fussy, pedantic foodstuff!). 

Wrap in clingfilm and place in the fridge for a minimum of half an hour.  If you decide to chill it for longer then you will need to stand it at room temperature for 15 minutes before starting to roll in order to stop it cracking.

Divide the pastry into two (one for the bases and one for the lids).  Dust the work surface, your hands and the rolling pin (or clingfilm’d wine bottle in my case) with icing sugar.  Roll half of the dough out; and here is where everyone seems to have a different, elaborate, sure-fire trick for getting perfect pastry.  By rolling it: without overworking or stretching; while being very gentle, quick, light, and firm; only in one direction; only away from yourself; only towards yourself; standing on your head and whistling “Sweet Home Alabama” in F minor.  How can anyone use a rolling pin with that much guidance?  I’m afraid I just rolled it... simple as that: I rolled it, turning it every so often so it wouldn’t stick, until it was flat(ish – I was using a wine bottle after all).  That was it. 

Butter and flour the tin (I made tiny pies in a mini-muffin tin), cut the pastry to fit and place in the fridge for another half hour to cool again.  This should stop the pastry from shrinking when cooking. 

Prick the bases with a fork, cover with baking parchment, fill with baking beans/dried pulses/rice for added weight, and blind-bake for 15 minutes at 180˚C.  Lift out the baking parchment and contents, apply an egg wash and return to the oven for a further 5 minutes.  The egg wash acts as a moisture sealing glaze and is made by mixing 1tsp liquid (milk or water) per egg white (with spices mixed in if desired).

Roll out the second half of the pastry for the lids and leave on a baking sheet in the fridge to keep cool.

Meanwhile, make the pie filling.  Melt the butter in a pan, add the apples, sugar, cinnamon, raisins (if using), zest and Calvados.  Cook until the apples have softened (approximately 10 minutes).  If the mixture looks too runny add a small amount of arrowroot to thicken.  Remove from the heat and leave to cool.  Then stir in the cream.

Finally assemble the pies.  Spoon the filling into the par-baked crusts, brush the tops with more egg wash and seal the pastry lids over the top.  Bake for 15 minutes until crisp and golden.  While these are baking mix the cinnamon, mascarpone and calvados to taste.

Jamie Oliver’s Pastry:

500g plain flour, sifted

 100g icing sugar, sifted
250g cold butter, cubed
Optional pastry flavouring (zest of 1 lemon, 1tsp mixed spice/cinnamon/cloves/nutmeg etc)
2 large eggs, beaten
a splash of milk

Apple and Calvados Filling: (makes 24 mini pies or 12 cupcake sized pies)

25g Butter

8 Granny Smith (or similar tart dessert) apples, peeled, cored and diced to 1cm

75g caster sugar

1/4tsp ground cinnamon

1 lemon, zest

3tbsp Calvados

4tbsp double cream

(I added a large handful of raisins into the filling)

Cinnamon Mascarpone:

100g Mascarpone

2tbsp Calvados
1/2tsp Cinnamon

Icing sugar to taste

Venison Pie with Thyme, Mustard and Shallots - Filling: (serves 6)

40g Dried Wild Mushrooms, soaked in boiling water to rehydrate

25g plain flour

1tbsp fresh thyme leaves

1kg venison, cut into large chunks

2tbsp olive oil

400g shallots, peeled but left whole

2 cloves garlic, peeled and chopped

2tbsp dark muscovado sugar

500ml ale

300ml beef stock

2tbsp Worcestershire sauce

2tbsp Dijon mustard

Salt and Pepper

Toss the venison in a bowl with the flour, thyme and some seasoning until coated.  Fry the shallots in half the olive oil over a medium heat until beginning to colour and soften, add the garlic and cook 1 minute.  Remove from the pan and set aside for later.  Brown the meat in batches in the rest of the olive oil then return the shallots and garlic to the pan.  Stir in the sugar, then add the ale, stock, Worcestershire sauce, mustard, mushrooms and 100ml of the mushroom’s soaking liquid. Simmer 2 hours then leave to cool overnight before assembling the pie for the flavours to develop.

Beef and Stilton Pie - Filling: (serves 6)

2tbsp sunflower oil

1kg braising beef, cut into large chunks

4 carrots, peeled, and cut into large chunks

1 large onion, roughly chopped

1 clove garlic, peeled and crushed

1 small pinch of chilli flakes

4tbsp flour

2tbsp balsamic vinegar

1 bottle (75cl) full-bodied red wine

1 bouquet garni

150g Stilton cheese, crumbled (I use more when I make this)

Heat the oil in a pan until smoking, brown the beef in batches (do not stir – leave to brown a few minutes each side without moving).  Remove from the pan and set aside for later.  Add carrots, onion, garlic and chilli to the pan and cook 8-10 minutes until starting to soften.  Stir in the flour to create a roux and cook until the flour starts to brown.  Add the vinegar and cook until it is reduced slightly.  Add wine, beef and any juices then season.  Bring to the boil, add the bouquet garni and simmer 2 hours or until the meat is tender then leave to cool overnight before assembling the pie.  Sprinkle the stilton over the filling just before adding the pastry top.