Tackling Zena Skinner with a sausage plait

I don't really remember Zena Skinner, but she was quite a formidable TV chef in the 70s, and her cookbook arrived with a batch of retro recipe books from eBay. 

I bet you can't wait for a recipe from the mixer & blender book... As with many older cookbooks, pictures and photos are used sparingly, as in practically non-existent, which makes recreating some of the designs a bit more challenging! (see also Pringle shaped biscuits from the Scandi post...) This week, another not-for-anyone-attempting-to-diet dish, the sausage plait, worryingly not included in the "meat" chapter but in the "savoury" section, which does make me question the quality of Zena's sausages.

Ingredients

For 2 hungry people with leftovers

250g puff pastry (or half a pack of a pre-made block)

4 sausages - we had some venison sausages in the freezer but any good quality tasty banger will do

1 small red onion

1 egg, beaten, to glaze

Did you spot the trick ingredient? The recipe suggested cheese, which is why there's a block of wensleydale on the board above, but once I'd made the plait cheese seemed a bit excessive, so I made some gravy instead.

Method

- Roll the pastry out to form an oblong about 15cm by 20cm. Squeeze the meat from the sausages, season and form into a roll. Put down the centre of the pastry then sprinkle the chopped red onion on top and  squidge in a bit

- Here comes the technical it: cut slits in the sides of the pastry at an angle as shown below

- Fold the strips alternatively over the sausage filling so it looks a bit like a plait (?!). Tuck in the ends and glaze with beaten egg

 - Bake in the oven at 220C for 25-30 minutes until the meat is cooked through and the pastry is golden

It was delicious with mashed potato, cabbage and gravy, and I can think of several variations with different sausages and stuffings, flavouring the pastry with fennel or caraway, and even adding a bit of cheese...

Bourbon on the rocks: FourHobs' first travel blog

We're touring the Yorkshire Dales this week, so little opportunity for cooking but plenty of opportunity for dramatic photos. I decided I can post about the trip in FourHobsinarow for two reasons: holidays in the UK were definitely 'a thing' in the 70s, and I'll feature some favourite 70s foods...

Like Bourbon biscuits. Bourbon creams, as they are sometimes known, were actually invented in 1910 and weren't called Bourbons at all. But why let facts get in the way of a story - I bought a (large) packet to fuel our excursions around various sights across the dales and the lakes, so this first travel post from FourHobs features Bourbon biscuits in precarious Yorkshire situations. Viewers may find some of the following images disturbing.

Surrounded by grykes on Malham's limestone pavement

Bourbon over troubled water

Trapped by some ferocious stinging nettles

Predator Bourbon

Do not touch this Bourbon

Bourbon on the rocks, halfway up Pen-y-ghent 

Bourbon at 674m above sea level; the summit of Pen-y-ghent 

Thistly Bourbon

Melting in the (one day) heatwave

Bourbon at an angle

Should I stick to cooking?! Or am I in desperate need of another holiday...

Scandinavia part 2: pancake cookies that look like Pringles

As well as their famous meatballs and infamous Allen keys, IKEA also do a pretty mean almond and chocolate 'Daim' cake, so following last week's potato dumplings, I had a look at the sweet section of the Scandinavian Cooking book. Like Daim cake, the baking chapter is heavily dominated by almonds but with a disappointing representation from the chocolate contingent. I plumped for Pancake cookies, which are coated in almonds and curled around a rolling pin whilst still warm. I assume the end result is supposed to look like a Pringle, but there are precious few photos in the book and nothing at all on the Internet for guidance (now wondering if the author just had an obsession with almonds and these aren't traditional Scandi biscuits at all...).

Ingredients:

200g butter

133g sugar (I used golden caster sugar)

2 eggs

112g plain flour

1/2 cup mixture of chopped flaked almonds and sugar for the topping

Note: aperol spritz not an ingredient for the cookies, just for the cook

Method:

- Melt the butter and let it cool. Cream until light and frothy then add the sugar and eggs

- Stir in the flour

- Drop teaspoon sized blobs onto a greased baking sheet leaving room for them to spread (can't recommend Lakeland's Magic Carpet enough for this kind if baking). You probably need to do this in batches but the baking time is really short and thus method leaves plenty of time to sample the raw cookie dough. Several times.

- Bake for 5 minutes at 180C, take the cookies out of the oven and sprinkle with the almond and sugar topping

- Return to the oven for another 5 minutes. Have another sample of cookie dough. 

- When cooked and starting to brown, remove the cookies from the oven and shape them by curling them round a rolling pin. Some of the topping will probably fall off. Leave to cool.

- Repeat until all the dough has been cooked or eaten, then lick the bowl

Delightful with a cup of tea or aperol spritz (note, not the same glass of spritz as in previous photo)

Scandi part 1: giant stuffed gnocchi

I love Scandinavian design (IKEA excepted) and some of their dishes are pretty tasty (meatballs being the one good reason to go to IKEA), but I hadn't cooked many, if any, recipes from our Nordic neighbours until I found this 1976 book written for the US market - I think we picked it up at a secondhand book stall in Cambridge.

There are so many tempting recipes, and unsurprisingly a lot of pickled herring involved, that I've made two dishes, a savoury one this week and a sweet one for next week. Spoiler alert: neither of them contain herring.

I've noticed that 70s dishes are not conducive to dieting, and this week's recipe is no exception. Not that I'm dieting, but I do know this is a popular pastime amongst my extensive readership and I can only apologise. Potato dumplings stuffed with bacon and onions are not likely to feature in any weight loss plan, which of course means that they are absolutely delicious.

Ingredients:

For 4 people

4 very large potatoes

112g plain flour

1 egg

1 onion

250g streaky bacon

Butter

Allspice

Salt & pepper

A note on potatoes: the book helpfully notes that these dumplings can't be made with an American baking potato like the Idaho, because the potato dissolves when you boil the dumplings. I've no idea what an Idaho potato is, so turned to Felicity Cloake in the Guardian for her analysis in making the "perfect gnocchi" which this seems to be a giant stuffed version of. She recommends Desiree potatoes, or King Edwards at a push. I could only get King Edwards and they did work - just (it was a nerve-wracking few minutes of boiling and they did dissolve a bit), so get Desiree's if you can.

Method:

- Peel, boil and mash the potatoes 

- Peel, chop and sautéed the onion in butter until soft

- Fry the bacon until crispy then chop into small pieces and mix with the cooked onion, seasoning with a bit of allspice 

- When the mashed potato has cooled, add the flour and egg to make a soft dough, and season with salt and pepper

- This is where is gets messy! On a floured surface, roll the dough into long sausages, about 5cm wide, and cut into 5cm pieces - like giant gnocchi. You should get about 16 dumplings (and 4 per person is plenty!)

- Actually, this is where it gets really messy (and the Bearded Argentinian had to act as guest photographer) - poke a teaspoonful of the bacon & onion mix into the middle of a dough ball and seal the potato around the stuffing

- When all the dumplings are stuffed, carefully lower them into boiling water and cook for 10 minutes. You might need to do this in batches then keep them warm in the oven. Any less than 10 minutes and they'll just taste like potato next to some bacon and onion, rather than getting a gnocchi-like consistency, but it is nerve-wracking watching the potato start to dissolve...

- Serve with a drizzle of extra vigil olive oil and kale dressed with something tangy like lemon or balsamic vinegar to cut through the richness.

Låt oss äta! (thank you google translate)

It's summer - quick, make some ice cream!

This week's recipe is another one from the book that Dr Gemma calls "the book with legs", ie "Recipes from the Dairy", which has a whole chapter dedicated to ice cream.

I suspect a 70's Barbican kitchen wouldn't have had a digital ice cream maker from Lakeland but it's such a faff without one, I treated myself (and they're half price in June 🙂). As the book explains in detail, all you really need is a freezer, a thermometer and a box to put the ice cream in.  And some patience. The photo above includes what they used in the Ham House dairy, even less technical! 

I chose Brown Bread ice cream because I have a traumatic memory of Mum making this when I was a teenager for a dinner party, and as Chief Taster I got to try some. It was delicious... So delicious, in fact, that the inconsiderate guests ate the lot and there were no leftovers for her poor neglected children the next day... years of therapy.

Ingredients:

100 ml wholemeal breadcrumbs

500ml whipping cream (36% fat)

185g dark muscovado sugar

1 tbsp rum (optional.. Hah, of course I used rum)

Method:

- Whizz the crustless bread in a food processor to make breadcrumbs then toast under the grill for a few minutes until evenly browned. Or not so evenly browned in this case.

- Lightly beat the cream, sugar and rum together, then add the breadcrumbs.

- Chill thoroughly, stirring occasionally as the crumbs fall to the bottom, then put into an ice cream machine for about 20 minutes until thickened.

- Serve with chopped nuts, chocolate sauce (not giving away my secret recipe) or a shot of almond liqueur. Or all three. 

Just don't bother waiting for the sun to come out...

By special request: Poor Man's Stroganoff

When I posted my first recipe many moons ago (April?), I used my Granny's Delia Smith Evening Standard cookbook and was inundated (2 people) with requests for Granny's/Delia's Beef Stroganoff. Never one to disappoint my fans (all 2 of them), this week I'm recreating the temptingly named "Poor Man's Stronganoff" from the same book.

I should also admit that the other reason for picking this one was that the Bearded Argentinian arrived home last Saturday with a kilo of beef brisket "because it was on offer"... Whether £14 of meat from Waitrose deli counter was quite what Delia had in mind when devising this recipe, I guess we'll never know...

Ingredients:

For 4 people:

1 kg of beef brisket or similar cut suitable for slow cooking (or whatever's on offer)

4 tbsp butter

2 onions, sliced 

4 tbsp plain flour

1 tbsp tomato purée

1 tin of condensed mushroom soup

150ml carton natural yoghurt

Grated nutmeg

Method:

- Using the sharpest knife you have, slice the meat into thin strips (or get someone else to do it like your butcher or Argentinian boyfriend).

- Cook the sliced onions gently in the butter for about 5 minutes then add the meat to brown on all sides.

- Stir in the flour to soak up the juices, then add the tomato purée, mushroom soup and yoghurt.

- Grate in a bit of nutmeg, season, put the lid on and either simmer gently on the hob or put in the oven at 160C for 1 - 1.5 hours until the meat is tender.

- Serve with rice and a sense of disbelief that this actually works (although you might wonder where the mushrooms are, and it wouldn't break the poor man's bank to fork out for some).

Grub's up!