Ghoulish Goodies: Pretzel 'Fingers'

Lo these many years ago, my roommates and I threw a Halloween party. I baked goodies--lots and lots of them, and we invited all my one roommate's fellow Psych grad students. One of them was a handsome man who later became my husband. I dressed as a saloon girl, he dressed as...a hot guy, I guess, and the rest is history.

I like to think my appropriately creepy snacks had something to do with winning him over. The cooking's definitely helped keep him around since!

Delicious!

Amongst the offerings were these little beauties: pretzels transformed into fingers with the judicious use of almonds and red food colouring. Easy to make, particularly if you regularly make pretzels anyway, as I do, and excellent for atmosphere. These made their way to my office Halloween party, where they went over like gangbusters. I like to be able to surprise people.

Pretzel 'Fingers'

1 batch sourdough pretzel dough, rested for 3 hours
Skinless almonds
Food colouring of your choice (I usually go with red)

Bring a pan full of water to the boil and add 2T bicarbonate of soda. Preheat your oven to 190 degrees C.

While that's heating up, cut the rested dough into manageable pieces, roll each piece into a long log, and cut it into 2.5-3" sections. Roll them slightly at one end so it comes to a rounded point.

Using a small, sharp knife, insert the tip into the almonds and split them in half lengthwise. This is a bit fiddly and you can skip it if you like, but I find the whole almonds a bit bulky to make a really great fingernail and prefer to use halves.

Boil the fingers for about 30 seconds each. I advise only doing a couple at a time, so you have a chance to press on the nails before they cool and firm up too much.

After you pull the fingers out of the water, let them cool slightly, and press the almond into the rounded end, pushing firmly so it sinks into the dough and looks like a nail.

Bake the fingers for 20 minutes for softer pretzels, 35-40 minutes for hard. Cool on a wire rack.

Using a paintbrush you keep only for food, paint the nails with food colouring. It may take a few coats for them to look quite right--I think mine took 3. Let them dry thoroughly and dig in!

Ghoulish Goodies: Marshmallow Ghosts

I love making homemade marshmallows. For one thing, they're fabulous. If you've only ever tried the store-bought kind, make these just once so you can taste the difference. Like night and day. For another thing, they're a great example of kitchen alchemy, and since I'm a tiny bit of a closet science nerd, I love me some kitchen alchemy.

Yummy!

It's hard to believe that this awful-looking, brownish, liquid mass is going to turn into glorious, fluffy, white marshmallows.

Getting there...

You refuse to believe it, even as you watch the beater spin, and then all of a sudden--BOOM! You've got marshmallow fluff! And after a couple of hours of setting, you've got the best damn accompaniment to hot chocolate, chocolate fondue, or s'mores you've ever tried. So, so worth it.

Hey! Look at that!

So, it's nearly Halloween, and one of my friends sent a picture of a fabulous little cake adorned with piped marshmallow ghosts. She suggested I try these out for our little office Halloween party and, of course, I rose to the challenge. And quite a challenge it was: I didn't beat the marshmallow quite long enough, so the first couple of ghosties collapsed into Hershey kiss-shaped puddles. The middle batch were great, but by the time I piped the last few, the marshmallow had set too much and they came out less like fluffy ghosts and more like, well, dog poo, if we're being honest. Those I just cut up into little discs for tossing in cocoa, but the others got some faces painted on and are ready for their close-up at the office tomorrow.

Coming soon to a party near yoooooooou!

Marshmallow Ghosts*

1 packet gelatine
1/3 cup cold water
1 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup water
Black gel food colouring

1. Dissolve the gelatine in 1/3 cup water in the bowl of a stand mixer. Let sit for at least 5 minutes.

2. Meanwhile, combine the sugar and remaining water in a saucepan. Bring to a boil and boil until the sugar dissolves and the mixture reaches a temperature of 240 degrees F on a candy thermometer.

3. Fit the mixer with a whisk and start it up to get the gelatine moving. While the mixer is going, carefully pour the hot sugar syrup into the bowl. Raise the mixer speed to high and let it go for 8-10 minutes, until the mixture turns white and fluffy and holds soft peaks.

4. Spoon the mixture into a pastry bag fitted with a large, round tip. Working quickly, pipe out little ghosts (don't get too ambitious--if they're too tall, they'll topple right over). I found that piping a good, fat, solid base before gradually moving upwards helped.

5. Let the ghosties dry for at least 2 hours, or overnight. Once set, paint little faces on using the food colouring and a small paintbrush used only for food.

Cyclops is Husby's favourite

*Warning: This is not for the faint of heart or the compulsively neat. Marshmallows are messy, and you do run the risk of being burned with hot sugar if you're not careful. The first bit can be tackled with plenty of hot water, the second with plenty of cold.

Recipe source: http://lollyssweettreats.com/

Things You Won't See in the States

The U.S. and the U.K. share a lot of things--a common language (mostly), part of a shared history, slang, music and entertainment, most large companies. But then there are moments where you see something you never saw stateside, and you realize you're in a totally different place now. Things like:

Someone unicycling up Inverleith Terrace in the morning (not that there probably aren't people unicycling in cities in the U.S., but I've never seen one

Roomy cabs driven by people who aren't on the phone all the time

Bagpipers playing the Star Wars theme and We Will Rock You (you'd be surprised how well both those songs work on the bagpipe)

Cheap candies all flavoured with actual fruit

Wellies as fashion statements, even on sunny days

Clotted cream ice cream from Devon

Actual castles in the middle of bustling towns and cities

A man in a sweatshirt, work boots, and a khaki kilt just chilling with friends at a pub

Red phone boxes that people are fiercely proud of and will actually protect

Major museums with free admission (and by that I mean--all the major museums are free)

Pudding bowls for sale in every cookery store

Heated towel racks in every residential bathroom

Teeny tiny combination washer/dryers in your flat

This is an incomplete list I'm sure I'll be adding to, but in the meantime, feel free to add your suggestions in the comments.

And just in case you didn't believe what I said about We Will Rock You working on the bagpipes...

Places to Eat: Number One at the Balmoral

Yesterday was husby's birthday, and birthdays and other special occasions mean a night out at a good restaurant. On the recommendation of my chiropractor (man, how yuppie does that sound?) I secured a reservation at Number One at the Balmoral.

I'll have to thank Stuart when I see him next.

The Michelin-starred restaurant did not let us down in any way. The moment we walked in we were cheerfully greeted and taken to our table, where bottled water was already chilling. Food-wise, you have two options: either do the Chef's Tasting menu for 70 pounds or order a three-course meal a la carte for 64. We chose the a la carte option because there were dishes on that I was dying to try. I also ordered a lovely glass of Pinot from the wine list, which is extensive if you're getting wine by the bottle but a bit limited when you're just going by the glass. Oh well. We settled down, soothed by the cozy atmosphere and Billie Holiday music and waited for the meal to begin.

First up: a trio of, I suppose, pre-amuse bouches, all of which were light, delicate, and lovely. Then came the actual amuse bouche, which was a tiny fritter in a light veloute. Well done on the fritter, which could easily have been heavy and greasy but thankfully wasn't. Nobody wants a grease bomb hitting their stomach before a three-course meal.

I opted for the foie gras starter, which was served with a gingerbread biscuit and peaches--an intriguing combination that worked beautifully. The acidity of the peaches helped cut the richness of the foie (which was cooked to crisp-outside, melting-inside perfection) and the warming gingerbread contributed spices that always pair nicely with foie gras. Husby had the fig tart (figs are FABULOUS right now) with pigeon. Their pigeon was much better than my first attempt with it. Definitely juicier, and playing nicely with the sweet, ripe figs on a paper-thin pastry square.

For mains, we both leaned hearty. Husby had sirloin, served with tongue, sweetbreads (the lucky bastard) and a truffle sauce. We'd never tried tongue and were a bit wary, thinking it would be inevitably tough, but it was perfectly tender and interesting, in a very good way. The truffle sauce was handled with a light and deft hand, so the truffles didn't overpower the dish (a common problem with truffles, I find). My main course was grouse, which has just come into season, with chard and a velvety celeriac puree.Comforting, warming, and gamey without being too aggressive, it was an excellent meal for a chilly fall day.

And finally, the desserts. I went for the lemon souffle, which has to be ordered a little early, unless you want to wait 25 minutes between your main and final course. I took the sommalier's suggestion on the pudding wine and it turned out to be a perfect one (as one would expect). The towering, fluffy souffle arrived alongside a tiny scoop of iced tea sorbet and a cloud-like, lemony cream-cheese mousse topped with granola.

Husby's strawberry parfait was an absolute work of art--a Study in Pink, if you will. Someone's clearly been studying their molecular gastronomy in the kitchens here, and applying it well. The parfait was rolled up in a thin strawberry-flavoured gelee, with strawberry mousse spheres scattered amongst the cardamom beignets. It was absolutely stunning, and delicious, too. Pure taste of summer.

Number One is touted as one of the best restaurants in Scotland, and it shows. No detail is left unattended to, and though the place is rather classic in its designed (think dark wood walls), it doesn't feel stuffy. Service is cheerful, unintrusive, and helpful, and though the dishes are beautifully modern, there are charming old-fashioned flourishes as well, such as trolleys that are wheeled around the dining room with bread and cheese selections. Afterwards, a cab was called for us, and we headed home, fully satisfied, but not overly stuffed.

According to my husband, it was a wonderful birthday.

Dam Good Plums

It's plum season here in the UK, and the little jewels are everywhere: Victoria, green gage, and the famous damsons. I hadn't heard much about damsons before I came over here, but they're big on this side of the pond, and very popular with jam makers. They're considered too sour to eat alone (and they're too small to serve as much of a snack anyway, being about the size of a very large grape) but they pair beautifully with all sorts of flavourings and foods. Being a jammer myself, I thought I'd give these "soor plooms" a go.

Off to the greengrocers' I went to stock up, and stock up I did, so much I ended up making two recipes: ice cream and jam. Jam first.

Most of the recipes I found for damson jam were pretty straightforward: plus, sugar, maybe some water. But I can't leave well enough alone, so I started thinking of what I could add to really make the plum flavors sing. Plums are a good stout fruit that can hold their own against warmer, more aggressive spices like clove, so I decided to go that route, but kick it up by using one of my favourite spice blends: Chinese Five Spice. The combination of star anise, cinnamon, Sichuan pepper, cloves and fennel would at least be interesting, I figured. So, I gave it a go, and after quite a bit of tweaking (and the addition of a couple of extra spices), I had a jam I was proud of. Tangy, warming, plummy: delicious.

 

Seven-Spice Damson Plum Jam

For the sake of those who have more or less damsons than I did, I tried to keep the proportions in the recipe even so it's easier to scale up or down as necessary. Also, feel free to mess around with spice proportions, or leave the spices out altogether. Jam's fairly forgiving when it comes to flavourings, so experiment away!

500 g (about 1 lb) damson plums, washed
1/2 cup water or black tea
1-2 c sugar (depending on your tastes)
1 T Chinese Five Spice powder
1/2-1 tsp ground ginger (or use fresh ginger, peeled and chopped)
1/4 tsp ground allspice

Procedure
Place the damsons and the water in a sturdy pot over medium heat. If you're using fresh ginger, add that too.  As they warm up, the plum skins will start to split. Simmer until the plums have all split open and gotten nice and soft (about 20-30 mins). Remove the pot from the heat and let the mixture cool until you can handle it without burning your hands.

Sift through the plum guts and remove all the stones (you can chop the plums ahead of time to avoid this step, but that's a pain and I just can't be bothered. Easier to do it this way). Once all the stones are out, add the plum guts, peels, ginger (if you're using fresh), and accumulated juices to a food processor (or use a hand blender) and process until smooth. Add it all back to the pot.

Place the pot back over medium heat and add the spices and sugar. If you prefer your jam on the tangy side, use the smaller amount of sugar and adjust as you go. Bring to a boil, then lower the heat and simmer until the jam has thickened enough to coat the back of a spoon (about another 25-30 minutes). Test for deliciousness and adjust spices/sweetener as necessary.

If you're canning for later use, go ahead and do that while the jam's hot. If not, cool jam at room temperature, then store in the fridge.

Uses: This jam is good with a wide variety of dishes. Scrape it onto some toast for a delicious snack or breakfast, swirl it through whipped cream for a lovely ice cream topping, or serve with duck or other meats (I can tell you from experience, this is fabulous with duck). Enjoy!

Damson Ice Cream

Regrettably, I got here and realized I wouldn't be able to use my ice cream maker anymore, because there was no way the bowl would fit in our freezer. Luckily, I found this recipe in the Complete Traditional Recipe Book that doesn't require an ice cream maker, just a bit of an arm workout on my part. It's totally worth it. Since this is a syrup rather than a custard-based dessert, it's more like a sorbet than an ice cream, but it's still incredibly delicious and highly addictive. Excellent with a bit of whipped cream with the jam mixed in, topped by a few blackberries.

For the Syrup
700ml water
425g sugar
Juice and thinly pared zest of 1 lemon
2 drops (about 1/8 tsp) vanilla

For the Ice Cream
1 litre hot ice cream syrup
600g damson plums
150ml double or whipping cream

Bring the water and sugar to a boil in a heavy-bottomed pan, adding the lemon zest as it heats up. Let the syrup boil for exactly 1 minute, then remove from the heat and add the lemon juice and vanilla. Pour into a bowl and allow to cool, if you're planning on storing this and making the ice cream later. It can be stored in teh fridge for up to 2 weeks.

If, however, you want your ice cream tonight, then poach the damsons in teh syrup for about 10 minutes, until the fruit is soft. Leave to cool completely (the recipe book suggests overnight). When cool, remove the stones, strain, and liquidise the pulp. Scrape into a freezer-safe container and freeze for 1 hour.

Whip the heavy cream until stiff and fold completely into the ice cream mixture. Replace in the freezer.  Remove after 1 hour and mix. You'll start to see the edges hardening. Repeat the freeze/mix cycle a few more times, until the mixture hardens. It'll take 4-5 hours, but it's definitely worth it.

Recipe: Green Onion, Coriander & Chili Flatbreads

Damn you, Great British Bakeoff. Once upon a time, I was able to happily sit on my bum on a Sunday afternoon, whiling away the hours with some knitting and mindless entertainment, but then you came along and I find myself thinking, "Oh, man, now I want to make some crazy flavored breads/ridiculously intricate cakes/perfect looking pies!" And so I haul myself off to the kitchen and proceed to spend the rest of the afternoon trashing it, pulling out eggs and flour and recipe books and interrupting my previously useless tranquility with fatty deliciousness. Thanks. Thanks a lot.

Green Onion, Coriander & Chili Flatbreads

2 tsp dry yeast
1 cup plus 2 T warm water
3 1/2 cups flour
2 tsp salt
3-4 green onions, sliced thinly
2 tsp ground coriander
1 1/2-2 tsp chili flakes or hot piri-piri seasoning (optional)*
1 T olive or rapeseed oil

Sprinkle the yeast into the 2T warm water and let dissolve for about 10 minutes. It should look slightly frothy.

Meanwhile, whisk together the flour, salt, coriander, and chili flakes, if you're using them. Make a well in the center of the flour and pour in the green onions, yeast, oil, and 2/3 cup water.

Mix, adding more water, if necessary, to form a firm, moist dough.

Knead on a lightly floured surface until the dough is smooth, shiny, and elastic. Put the dough in a clean bowl, cover with clingfilm, and leave in a warm place to rise until doubled in size, about 1 1/2 hours.

Punch the dough down and let it rest. Meanwhile, heat a griddle or skillet over medium heat until very hot.

Divide the dough into eight equal pieces androll out each piece into a round about 6" (15 cm) across and 1/2" (1 cm) thick.

Place the dough rounds on the hot griddle or pan and prick all over with a fork to prevent large air bubbles from forming. Cook each flatbread until golden brown on both sides, about 5 minutes per side. Set aside while you cook the others.

Serve with houmous, curry, or cheese for a delicious lunch or afternoon snack.

*If you're not partial to spicy things, consider replacing the chili with some freshly grated lemon peel. I find the lemony flavor compliments coriander quite beautifully.

On the Fringe: The Ash Girl

Cast your memory back to childhood and remember Disney's Cinderella. Remember that one? With the cute talking mice and the grandmotherly fairy godmother? Ok, now think of the exact opposite of that and you'll have The Ash Girl. Disney's Cinderella was basically a Stepford Smiler who didn't seem to really mind the horrific abuse she was living with. The Ash Girl is suicidally depressed, lives next to a forest inhabited by the seven deadly sins, and is nearly accidentally raped by her own father (it's also hinted that her father married her stepmother because he had certain 'needs' and his daughter was getting just a little too pretty.) It's dark and disturbing as hell, but it's also pretty awesome. Read the full review here