I always loved visiting Wales when I lived in the UK, and what’s not to love? Beautiful countryside, that lovely lilting accent and, most importantly, Welsh cakes. To the uninitiated, these little morsels may present like just another baked good. I promise you, they are …
The busy run-up to Christmas is paved with good intentions, namely my intention to publish this post. So forgive me for missing the boat a little with this one. I think we can still consider this timely though, as many of us will have tin-foiled lumps …
You all know how much I love a good, old-fashioned cookbook. So I was naturally delighted when this little gem, ‘The Cookin’ Woman: Irish Country Recipes’ arrived in my letter box, thanks to my little sister (Science teacher extraordinaire and blogger at Einstein’s Kitchen).
It’s appropriate not just because I love unusual cookbooks, but also because my better half is Northern Irish. Florence Irwin is the author, lauded as Ulster’s first travelling domestic science instructor. She came to write this book after her expeditions throughout County Down. Her recipes include not only traditional fare and specialties such as dulse, but also suggestions for the modern-day cook such as the outlandish ‘imaginative and healthy vegetable dishes,’ and some household tips.
I myself would be interested to know quite how this little book found its way to this side of the world. The original sales sticker on the back says it is from Four Provinces Bookshop (sadly now closed), 244 – 246 Grays Inn Road, London. From there to Port Chalmers…who knows how that happened?
One of my favourite Irish treats is Soda Bread, or Soda Farl. The leavening agent is baking soda, and the bread itself is dense and wholesome with a pleasant soda twang.
Naturally, the Cookin’ Woman has a recipe for Soda Bread. It’s surprisingly easy to make, being rather like whipping up a batch of scones, and it resulted in a delicious little loaf. I am pleased to report passed the Northern Irish test – all gone rather quickly and washed down with plenty of tea.
You will need:
Preheat your oven to 375 Fahrenheit or 190 Celsius, leaving the tray you will be using for the soda bread in the oven to warm up.
Sift the flour, baking soda, cream of tartar and salt into a large bowl. Make a well in the centre.
At this point, Florence becomes very firm on instructions to ensure a light loaf. One is not to add it ‘drop by drop.’ Instead, start with adding about half the buttermilk to the well in the centre. Using a knife, draw the batter from the sides and add more liquid as the batter thickens.
To ensure a light loaf, you don’t want it over-worked ‘ragged’ in the centre. And so I stopped mixing at about the point where it was lumpy and not to dry.
Spread the warmed tray with flour. Tip out the dough, dredge it in flour and knead lightly, tucking in the edges to form a circle as you go, and doing so ‘very lightly indeed.’ When the top is smooth, turn it upside down (to distribute flour to what is now the top of the loaf) and roll it to about 1 inch thick.
Cut it into farls. Yes, I had to check this out too – ‘farl’ is an old Scottish word for quarter.
Florence doesn’t specify a time, but just that one bakes it until it is ‘risen, nicely brown and cooked to the centre.’ This took my farls 30 minutes.
Delicious hot with butter and tea!
A friend in need is a friend indeed, do you think? I don’t know the exact origin of this phrase (although the finger is pointed at a certain Quintus Ennius), but I do know that anyone in any kind of need can do with a tasty …
How do you like them apples? That’s how I feel I should be addressing you, because we really have had a lot of apply recipes by this point in the Edmonds A section. But I love a good flan and this little number is easy …
You may be a bit tired of my Winter and Autumn range of stodgy, warming things that include root crops and apples, and trust me, I’m just tired of Winter, but this is quite a pleasing little loaf and really easy to make. Don’t be put off by the ‘bread’ in the title, it doesn’t involve any of that pesky rising or kneading and no yeast goes near it, it’s really more of a cakey loaf in a bread shape.
I would really love to bring you an interesting little history on Apple Bread, but truth is, I can’t find much (so anyone who can fill us all in would be most appreciated, comments below please). Recipes for Apple Bread appear on a number of US-based sites for home-style or pioneer baking and sometimes it is referred to as Dutch, so perhaps this is where it has its origins. I suspect its inclusion in the Edmonds book is because it makes good use of something that grows well in this neck of the woods and is easy to whip up quickly, should you be caught unawares when Doris from over the fence pops over for a cuppa.
I decided to bake this on a Monday night when I was in a bit of a frump (a cross between grumpy and frazzled) and it met the requirements of providing soothing sifting and mixing activities and a nice smell of baking throughout the house. I don’t know about anyone else, but I find baking transforms a bad mood into a feeling of satisfaction and peace very quickly.
It only calls for a few ingredients, and all things you are likely to have to hand:
Pre-heat your oven to 180 degrees celsius and grease a 22cm loaf tin. Sift flour, salt and baking powder into a bowl. Stir in sugar and add the apple and enough milk to make a smooth, soft dough, mixing it together quickly.
Place into the tin and bake for 1 hour or until the base of the loaf sounds hollow when tapped. You are instructed to wrap it up in a tea towel until cold.
This makes a sturdy little loaf with flecks of apple throughout. It’s very satisfying for breakfast, and particularly nice with a little butter or jam. I suspect it would nicely with a little cheese or chutney too.
Happy eating ’til next time.
You know something’s a winner, don’t you, when you’ve adapted from our national treasure, Dame Alison Holst. As you’ll all know, I have a bit of a thing for old-school cook books and recipes. So you can imagine I could not leave Alison Holst’s Simply …
I am so happy it is tamarilo season once more. I love tamarillos. Not just for their cheek-sucking tartness, but also because I think they are one of the most beautiful fruits, with their plump, ruby skins and yellow flesh. Tamarillos, which were once known as …
So, bliss balls are a thing right now. Anyone who reads my blog will know that I take great joy in the retro tried-and-true; the less sexy the better (although I’m sure we all agree that Delia looks a total fox on the cover of this 1982 How To Cook). I’m not always so adventurous when it comes to the hottest trend.
But, thing or not, bliss balls are scrumptious. I believe their popularity comes from the fact that they get their lovely moreish-ness from things like dates and cocoa powder, so they provide a delicious little morsel without sending your blood sugar skew-whiff. Personally I just like them because the dates and cocoa make them all dense and fudge without being sickly. And a little delicious morsel? Count me in.
My tried and true Bliss Ball recipe is not my own, but comes to me courtesy of two of my lovely sisters. So please find their excellent recipe below – I promise it’s quick, and the results are superb with your post-lunch cup of tea.
Ingredients:
1/2 C dates (I’m assured that raisins and sultanas also work well)
1/4 C almond meal
2T cocoa (be generous!)
1t vanilla essence
1T peanut butter
1T oil (I use olive)
1/4 C dessicated coconut
Boil the kettle. Soak the dates in boiling water for ten minutes. Drain the water, reserving 2T of water.
Place the dates and all the other ingredients into a food processor and blend until smooth.
Test the mixture with your fingers. It should clump nicely without being too sticky – add some of the date water if it’s too dry, or more almond meal if it’s too sloppy.
Wet your fingers and roll tablespoonfuls of the mixture into balls. You can roll them in a little coconut at this stage if you fancy, although I prefer them without. Refrigerate for half an hour to set, and keep them in the fridge.
What’s not to love about a cake that you can make entirely in one cake tin? Hardly any dishes and quick to boot. Because, although I love to cook and bake, there are times when I am too greedy or impatient to fuss around. If it’s …