Hello everyone, this shan’t be my usual post with recipe, or even a very long one – the Mister and I are on holiday, currently in the beautiful Bay of Plenty, NZ, at the dazzling Papamoa Beach. But I thought I might share a few …
Regular readers of this blog may have noticed that I am fortunate to have parentals who kindly bring me ingredients from their travels, with which I can then experiment. And so today, I’m going to tell you all about my fun with a bottle of …
I have come into possession of two fruity items this week – a lovely big batch of stewed apples courtesy of my sister, and a tin of strawberries.
Yes, tinned strawberries, what a strange thing indeed. I found them in the supermarket on special for 99 cents per tin and I figured I was prepared to part with 99 cents to satisfy my curiosity. This, I thought, could either be great or horrible.
I find the way they look a little alarming to be honest. I think it’s all that pinkness and bulbousness.
When in possession of a large amount of stewed apples and a tinned strawberry curiosity itch, the only appropriate avenue is to consider baking. I know strawberries are a summer fruit, and apples an autumn one, but strawberry and apple tart had a nice ring to it. Our current Spring certainly has a very in-between, mixed up feel, so I think playing around with seasonal produce is a fitting response.
You may recall that I am fond of Delia for the classics, and her Fastest Blackberry and Apple Tart appealed as a reliable candidate for my meddling.
I made the tart base as per instructions, duly sifting rubbing in butter, caster sugar, and making a well for the egg (ooh er, it always feels a bit fancy making a well for the egg).
I lined my lightly greased tin with the tart dough and began layering on the stewed apples (a bit of a deviation, as Delia asks for fresh). Being stewed apples, they released a fair bit of liquid into the dough, despite my careful draining. To avoid my tart becoming too sog-tastic, I reverted to Delia’s advice, using fresh apples over about half the tart.
Delia instructs that one scatters the fresh blackberries over the apples. My slightly waterlogged strawberries did not appear to me the kind of fruit one blithely ‘scatters.’ And so, I lined them up neatly in between the apples, which also satisfied my neat-freakish tendencies.
I sprinkled the tart with one tablespoon of caster sugar as instructed and put it in the oven for 45 minutes at 180 degrees celsius.
Although I was concerned the liquid from the stewed apples would result in a soggy base, this did not happen and some of the apple juices pooled and caramelised in the corners of the tart in a most pleasing fashion.
But what you really want to know, I am sure, is how the strawberries fared. My dear friend and afternoon tea guest and my husband both gave positive reports and I was pleased too. They held their shape well and combined nicely with the apples and crisp base.
This strawberry and apple tart went down a treat with ice cream, fresh strawberries and a glass of peach juice. Verdict: would happily make this again, and thumbs up to Delia for the excellent, easy base recipe.
I promised you that there would be more almonds to follow as part of my Edmonds Cookbook challenge, and I did not lie. We now find ourselves at devilled almonds. When you put your mind to it, there is a considerable number of food items …
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Forgive me readers, but I’m going to take a small detour through the Edmonds Cookbook index. Hot on the heels of Almond Biscuits is Almond Icing (yes, there are indeed a lot of almond-based recipes in the Edmonds Cookbook, and they’re not going away any time soon).
For those of you familiar with Christmas Cake, and I can only imagine that is all of you, you will be acquainted with Almond Icing, which is the thick layer of gluey white sugary substance plastered on the top of your cake. If you come from my family, the almond icing will also be adorned with some plastic holly and a slightly inebriated-looking Father Christmas on a sleigh with some of his reindeer missing.
It would be a terrible waste to make almond icing, only to have it sit around on its lonesome without a cake to call home. And so, with your good grace, readers, I will skip almond icing and revisit it when I reach the christmas cake section. Hopefully I manage to time this for Christmas.
Next up, then, is Almond Rice. What is this fascinating dish?, I hear you ask. Almonds cut into rice-shaped pieces? Some kind of confetti to be thrown at weddings?
Almond rice is, in fact, a rice dish featuring not only almonds, but also raisins, butter, stock and of course rice. I’m not really sure of its origins. I would say that perhaps it is Edmonds’ answer to pilaf, however this already features in the mighty book. I remember something similar from childhood BBQs that also involved curry powder, so perhaps it is something of a simple retro classic. Ring any bells for anyone?
For your very own Almond Rice, you will need:
One begins by melting the butter. I just love to watch butter melt. Yum.
Add the garlic and onion and cook until the onion is clear. Is it just me, or is there something especially delicious about the smell of onion and garlic when they’re cooking in butter?
Stir in raisins, stock, salt and pepper to taste. Cover and bring to the boil. Add the rice, reduce the heat and cook over a low heat for 15-20 minutes, until the rice is tender and the liquid is absorbed.
I made the most of this time by toasting my almond slices. Not wishing to dirty a big frying pan for only a small amount of almonds, I decided to use this cute little heart-shaped frying pan, the real purpose of which is to fry eggs with a little heart-shaped yolk. This was not the best idea I ever had as it was hard to stir them about and toast them evenly given the pan is small, so perhaps do not try this at home. But doesn’t it look cute?
Once the rice is tender and the liquid absorbed, stir the mixture and add all but one tablespoon of your almonds.
Edmonds now requires that one arranges the almond rice on a serving platter and garnishes with the remaining almonds. My plan was to eat this for lunch the following day, so you will just have to use your imagination with this picture of my almond rice in my lunch container. I did garnish it with the reserved almonds however.
This was pretty tasty. Definitely worth cooking with the butter as this gives it a nice savoury note, and the little raisins plump up in the stock most pleasingly.
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We now found ourselves at Almond Biscuits in the Edmonds Cookbook index.
Almond Biscuits, as a category of baked good, enjoy a little more history and reputation than I had suspected. The internet informs me that these popular biscuits are “prepared in different ways across various cultures and in various cuisines.” Versions of almond biscuits are found from China to Norway, Spain and Turkey.
Who would’ve thought? New Zealand, not to be outdone, has its own Almond Biscuit and of course, where else would you expect to find this but New Zealand’s baking bible, the Edmonds Cookbook.
The ingredients for Almond Biscuits ask for:
The first thing that caught my eye as I read through the ingredients were the blanched almonds. I realised that although I know what a blanched almond looks like and could pick one out in a line-up, I didn’t know much about how they got this way. Hurrah, another educational opportunity presents itself in the space of one blog post!
The internet to the rescue again….blanched almonds are made through plunging the unsuspecting almonds into boiling water, then after a timed interval, plunging them into icy cold water to halt the cooking process. This softens the almond skin, meaning it can be removed.
For your educational benefit, please see below a blanched almond compared to its unblanched cousin. The naked one is the blanched one, and the one with its clothes still on is unblanched.
Anyway, on with the baking.
The best thing about many biscuit recipes is that they start with my old favourite, creamed butter and sugar, and happily Almond Biscuits begin by creaming the butter and sugar.
Then, in goes the egg. I bought these lovely free range eggs from our Harbourside Market – don’t they have such a beautiful orange yolk?
The almond essence goes in at this time too. Confession – personally, I’ve always been a little mistrustful of almond essence as it smells a bit like loo cleaner to me. But dear readers, I’m not about to let you down. Personal misgivings aside, in it went.
One beats well and then sifts in the flour and baking flour, mixing to a firm dough. Then the mixture is rolled into balls.
Time now for my second confession – I’m not a terribly consistent biscuit maker. It was at this point of proceedings this fact came home to roost. My mixture was a little too soft to be rolled into balls. I added a bit more flour and put it on the greased tray, not really in balls, more in lumps. I’m not sure why this happened, but it will certainly be me, and not the glorious Edmonds.
Half a blanched almond is pressed into each biscuit before baking. If you can figure out how to half one of these things without losing a finger in the process, let me know. I couldn’t, so the almonds went on whole.
They are baked for fifteen minutes at 180 degrees celsius.
I watched anxiously, feeling a little fearful they would remain funny little lumps with a blanched almond perched atop. They baked up well enough however, and once cool enough, I snaffled one up for testing.
Mine were quite cakey in texture as demonstrated below, when I really suspect they are meant to be quite crisp.
But not all was lost at all, and I’m pleased to report that taste really quite lovely, sweet and subtle, and perfect with a cup of tea on a rainy Sunday afternoon.
On a recent trip to the supermarket, ample signage informed me that Sunday 4th August was National Roast Day. Although no doubt a ploy to sell more products, it’s been a while since my tiny kitchen knew the joys of a hearty roast, so …