a not-so-giant cupcake

Recently my housemate added a Giant Cupcake Mould to our ever-expanding collection of baking goods. Unable to leave anything vaguely cake-related alone, I took on the challenge of creating such a treat, found a suitable recipe and went about weighing, whisking and spooning. Once suitably 'moulded', I popped it into a hot oven. After a whole hour's wait (wash up, check emails, paint nails...) I dared to open the oven door and... it was a disappointment. Sure, the satisfying aroma of fresh baking was obvious, as was its comforting golden appearance. But the 'giant' I was expecting? Hmm. Nope. My mixture had risen, but not to the giant specifications I was after. I clearly hadn't made enough mixture and as a result my 'giant' cupcake was a slightly shrunken down version. Undeterred, and after a few swift adjustments, I used butter icing to sandwich together the base of the cupcake with it's lid. Some pink food colouring, chocolate vermicelli and edible glitter later and the result was a somewhat botched-together, rather child-like explosion of cake and colour. But all was not lost. The sponge was light and fluffy and you can't go wrong with anything smothered in creamy butter icing. I admit, not my finest culinary achievement but one which I thought would be good to share regardless. We all have to learn from our mistakes after all. This is the recipe I used. PLEASE DOUBLE IT!

giant cupcake

for the cake

170g butter
170g caster sugar
170g self-raising flour
3 eggs
1tsp baking powder
for the butter icing
500g icing sugar
113g butter
Food colouring of your choice
Preheat the oven to 160ºC.
1. Mix the butter, caster sugar, flour, baking powder and eggs then whisk until light and fluffy.
2. Pour the cake mixture into the cupcake mould and bake for 1 hour.
3. For the butter icing, mix the butter for 1 min in a bowl, add the food colouring then bit by bit, add the icing sugar and mix until you can hold the spoon upside down without it falling off.
4. Decorate as you like!

cheese and courgette muffins

It seems that everyone has fully embraced the idea of a 'healthy' January (me included) and I am finding it hard to find an appreciative audience for any calorie-laden baking that I suggest. So I scoured my recipe books for a (relatively) healthy muffin. With a list of ingredients that includes wholemeal flour and courgettes this is a January dream. As my fast diminishing pile of baked-goods proves, these muffins make a tasty snack any time of the day. I can't pretend I'm not excited about baking gooey, sugary, sinful treats once again but for now this is a pretty darn tasty alternative. Have a go...

cheese and courgette muffins  

225g wholemeal self- raising flour

1/2 tsp salt

100g courgettes, grated

100g cheddar cheese, grated

175ml milk

1 tsp pesto

1 egg

2 tbsp olive oil 

1. Preheat the oven to 200C. Line a 12 hole muffin tin with paper muffin cases.

Mix together the flour, salt, courgettes and cheese. Season with freshly ground black pepper.

2. In a separate bowl, mix together the milk, pesto, egg and olive oil. Pour this mixture into the dry ingredients. Gently stir together until just combined.

3. Spoon the muffin mixture into the paper cases.

4. Bake in the oven for 20-25 mins.

These are best eaten warm.

the urban wood

Yesterday I got an unexpected visit from my family. At the end of a tough week some home comfort was just the therapy I needed. After a quick catch-up over coffee we chose to head out of the madness that is Saturday afternoon at Cabot Circus and took a stroll up the Christmas Steps. What I like about having visitors in my home town of Bristol is that it forces me away from my usual haunts, into lesser-frequented parts of town. And so it was that we ended up browsing the shops that line Colston Street. Home to two of Bristol's best secondhand bookshops and, it would seem, one of the city's best independent eateries. Feeling the tug of lunchtime hunger, The Urban Wood was our chosen venue to fulfil our foodie desires. The decor of this long and narrow setting might best be described as dark and menacing meets cheerful kitsch (large deer antlers loom over pretty fuschia flower heads popping out of jam jars), whilst the mismatched furniture ensures that the overall feel is one of comfort and relaxation rather than pretentiousness of any kind. Decor aside, service at The Urban Wood was also very impressive. The staff have achieved that rare balance of good service; nowhere near standoffish yet certainly not overbearingly keen.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves, we hadn't even sampled the food yet. The menu was promising and, on further inspection, they use only locally sourced ingredients. I chose a jacket potato with mozarella, cherry tomatoes and rocket. My fellow diners chose a blue cheese and fig salad, a pea and mint risotto and the 'Urban Wood burger'; an ambitious affair layered with a fried egg, cheese and bacon, and served with chips. The food was simple and no-fuss; attractive, satisfying and full of flavour. My potato had a skin that was thick and crisp; a sign of a jacket which has spent some time in a hot oven as opposed to a short spin in a microwave. This is a place where the chips are homemade and the chef cares more about flavours and ingredients than creating a work of food art. With dishes costing an average of seven pounds each, The Urban Wood won't even break the bank.

This place beats hands-down any of the dull, spiritless chain restaurants that are peppering our high streets. I would definitely pay The Urban Wood another visit, preferably in the evening, when the lights go down and the candles are lit.

sunday morning

Soda bread is by far the simplest loaf of bread you can make. Containing no yeast, it relies on the instant chemical reaction between the alkaline bicarbonate of soda and the acidic buttermilk to cause it to rise. Science lesson over. More importantly than the chemical reactions involved, this loaf tastes delicious. It is a dense, heavy loaf with a consistency which almost resembles a scone. Considerably healthier than your average scone, however. This loaf is one to make on a lazy Sunday morning when only a doorstop of fresh toast smothered in real butter and marmite (not everyone's first choice but a weakness of mine) will suffice.
soda bread
225g wholemeal flour
225g plain flour
½ tsp sea salt
1 tsp caster sugar
1 tsp bicarbonate of soda
350ml buttermilk
1. Set the oven to 220C. Put a large pot and its lid into the oven.
2. Mix together the flours, salt, sugar and bicarbonate of soda. Pour in the liquid, bringing a soft dough together and, working quickly (the soda will start work immediately), shape into a shallow round loaf about 4cm thick.
3. Remove the pan from the oven, dust the inside of the pan lightly with flour and lower in the dough. Cover with the lid and return to the oven.
4. The bread should be ready after 25 minutes. Remove from the oven and leave in place for 5 minutes before turning out and leaving to cool slightly before eating.

sing a song of sixpence

January is one of those 'nothing' months. Cold, dark, miserable and with no festivities to cheer us up. I have embarked (as most of us do post-Christmas) on a detox. I am not touching alcohol or sugar. I had so much food and drink in December I forgot what it feels like to be hungry. So I'm strangely excited about the thought of avoiding the leftover chocolates (of which there are many in all corners of the flat) and spending time in a pub without a glass of merlot in my hand. Granted, cake baking won't be quite as much fun an activity having to abstain from sampling the finishing product but no-pain-no-gain and all that. Last week, however, I was most definitely not treating my body as a temple and Christmas leftovers were duly hoovered up in various dishes (mostly savoury but one sweet - the Christmas pudding truffles were little gooey delights!) My personal favourite was a chicken and leek pie. This recipe can be modified to use turkey instead of chicken, or you could chuck in a few extra greens depending on what you have left. I also found a blackbird pie funnel in my stocking this year - what better excuse to get baking?

chicken and leek pie          

for the pastry

500g plain flour

pinch of salt

250g butter

1 egg

for the filling

1 2kg roasted chicken

250ml double cream

250ml whole milk

50g butter

1 onion

6 leeks

2 tbsp plain flour

2 bay leaves

Pinch grated nutmeg

Salt and pepper

1 egg

Preheated oven - 170C

1. First make the pastry. Rub together the flour, salt and butter until they resemble breadcrumbs.Mix in enough of the beaten egg for the mixture to begin to form a firm, but not sticky, dough.

2. Roll the dough into a ball, wrap in clingfilm and leave to rest in a fridge for 30 minutes.

3. Meanwhile, make the filling. In a saucepan, mix together the cream and milk. Add the juices from the roasted chicken and gently heat.

4. Melt the butter and sweat the sliced onion over a gentle heat until soft. Add the sliced leeks and fry for 8 minutes.

5. Sprinkle over the flour and stir. One ladle at a time, add the heated cream mixture, stirring continuously until it begins to thicken.

6. Tear the chicken into pieces and stir into the pan. Leave this to cool.

7. Now grease an oval pie dish, approx. 30cm x 20cm. Cut the pastry in half and roll it out thinly. Line the pie dish with one half, fill it with the cooled filling and then place the other half of the pastry on the top. Seal down the edges by pressing the pastry together and brush the top with the beaten egg. Cut a few slits into the middle of the pie lid (or use a pie funnel).

8. Put the pie into the preheated oven and bake for 35 minutes or until the pie is golden brown.

a hamper full of christmas

If the build-up to Christmas were a race I'd be crawling over the finishing line, half-asleep, covered in glitter and tangled up in tinsel. There are two days to go and I have managed to exhaust myself before the big day has even arrived. That's what we do though isn't it - we almost burn out and then we spend Christmas day 'recovering' (aka, falling asleep at 2pm in front of a rerun of Only Fools and Horses). Unless, I suppose, you are the designated Christmas chef. Then what happens? Do you just never stop? As it is, I have been assigned no 'official' Christmas day duties, so it seems I can afford to be lazy. Apologies if I sound like Scrooge. Christmas is, without a doubt, my favourite time of year. I actually love the festive madness that December brings. Even the inevitable crowds that flock to the high street and long lengths of time wasted in traffic jams are not enough to deter me from embracing all that is merry and bright. I'm in my element spending hours sourcing the perfect presents, ribbons and wrapping paper. I treat decorating the tree like a work of art and count mulled wine and Baileys amongst my favourite beverages. All in all, I love Christmas and all things Christmassy.

So when a friend of mine recently gave me some wooden boxes, I had Christmas on the mind. Unable to resist the creative opportunities that they presented, I began to plan their transformation into foodie hamper gifts. So I found myself, amongst the festive madness, squeezing lemons, slicing onions, whisking cream and melting chocolate. The result? Several jars of lemon curd, pots of caramelised onion chutney and bags of nutty chocolate truffles. A length of lace trim, some gold tissue paper and a few decorated luggage tags later and they were complete.

caramelised red onion chutney
8 red onions 
1 red chilli 
2 bay leaves  
25ml olive oil  
200g brown sugar  
150ml balsamic vinegar  
150ml red wine vinegar
1. Cut your onions and chilli into short, thin slices and put them into a pan with the bay leaves and oil. Cook gently over a low heat for about 20 minutes.
2. Once the onions are dark and sticky, add the sugar and the vinegars and simmer for 30 minutes or so, until the chutney is thick and dark.
3. Pour the chutney into hot, sterilised jars and let it cool. Ideally, you should leave it for a month or more before you eat it, to mature in flavour.

snow is falling, all around me....

Yep, it's been snowing. Not a lot, not in Bristol anyway, but even a light covering is enough to awaken the Christmas spirits within. So it was inevitable that the weekend brought about a flurry of festive baking - the first of many I'm sure - and the result was these rather rustic, very crumbly mince pies. I admit, I didn't make my own mincemeat. There are such good ones available straight off the supermarket shelf these days, why waste time chopping and soaking. My chosen one was of the Tesco Finest variety and it did a super job at disguising itself as homemade. 

										mince pies 570g mincemeat  95g lard  75g butter  350g plain flour  a little milk  pinch of salt 1. Cut the butter and lard into chunks and add the sifted flour. Add a little salt, then process until the mixture is crumbly. 2. Add 3 tablespoons of water, process again, then remove the dough to the mixing bow;. Bring it all together with your hands, adding a few drops of water to make a dough. 3. Put it into a plastic bag for 30 minutes in the fridge. Preheat the oven to 200°C. After that, divide the dough in half on a well-floured surface. 4. Roll out the dough as thinly as possible, then use a large cutter to cut out rounds. Place the rounds in the baking tins and add one teaspoon of mincemeat to each one.  5. Roll out the other half of pastry and repeat with the smaller cutter. Dampen the edges with milk and press them lightly into position on top of the mincemeat to form lids, sealing the edges well. 6. Brush the pies with milk then bake them for 20-25 minutes. Finally, cool them on a wire rack. 'Christmas' continued when me and my flatmates filled the corner of our living room with a beautiful Christmas tree. Frenchay Christmas Tree Farm is a family-run business in Bristol. We arrived early on Saturday, their first trading day of the year. A man in a neon coat guided us towards a Christmas-lover's dream - a field crammed full with snow-topped coniferous trees - and told us to take our pick. The trees are lovingly cared for all year round and the owners seem genuinely enthusiastic about all things 'tree'. Each prickly offering even has it's own individual name. After browsing and weighing up the options, we finally settled on an 8-foot beauty called Ron. It was dutifully chopped down and we drove it home, singing classic Christmas songs all the way of course. The finished product....