Chocolate orange hot cross buns

The first reference to hot cross buns in the Oxford English dictionary dates back to 1733, but they've been around in various forms for much longer.  Carbonised buns with crosses were found by archeologists in the Roman city of Herculaneum, and the Saxons slashed crosses in buns to honour Eostre, their goddess of spring and fertility.  In any case, I think we can all agree that hot cross buns were being baked up and down the country for Easter in the 1970s...

However, this is not a recipe for purists. As much as I enjoy a traditional spicy hot cross bun, the Bearded Argentinian is averse to dried fruit in any form, and there's only so many baked goods I can get through on my own. These creations, adapted from Paul Hollywood's brioche loaf recipe in Bread, are really hot cross buns in disguise with satsuma zest for the candied peel and chunks of chocolate masquerading as raisins.

The final buns *look* like the real deal but taste even better! The rich brioche dough is delicious with the sweetness of the satsumas and the bitterness of the chocolate. Enjoy warm with a pot of tea and a little butter for an afternoon treat. They also make a great breakfast option, not unlike a pain au chocolat.

Ingredients

(Makes 8 buns)

250g strong white bread flour

3g salt

30g caster sugar

1 tsp fast action dried yeast

80ml full fat milk

2 eggs

2 satsumas

130g unsalted butter 

100g dark chocolate

Bring all the ingredients to room temperature before you start.

For the crosses and glaze:

30g shortcrust pastry

1 egg

 

Method

1. Mix together the flour, salt, yeast and sugar. Add the eggs and milk, the zest of the satsumas and squeeze in the juice of one. Mix gently to combine.

2. If you have a mixer with a dough hook, mix on medium speed for 5 minutes, otherwise knead by hand for a little longer. Then add the butter bit by bit until the dough becomes elastic and shiny.

3. Chop the chocolate into chips and mix gently into the dough.

4. Place the dough in an oiled bowl; cover and chill in the fridge overnight.

5. The following day, tip the dough out onto a lightly floured surface, roll into a sausage, cut into 8 equal sized pieces and shape into balls.

6. Arrange on a baking tray lined with greaseproof paper, cover with a clean tea towel and leave to prove at room temperature for 2 hours, or until doubled in size.

7. Heat the oven to 200C. Prepare the crosses by rolling out the pastry to 3mm thick and cutting into thin strips (about 5mm wide). Carefully place the pastry strips on the buns without knocking the air out, then glaze the buns with beaten egg.

8. Bake for 15 to 20 minutes until dark golden brown.

Happy Easter!
And if it's not Easter, squidge the buns into a loaf tin before proving and bake a brioche tear 'n' share loaf :)

Everyday Kiev: a healthier take on the Russian classic

Chicken Kiev is one of those dishes that is so delicious, I have specific memories of occasions when I've enjoyed a really good one. Top of the list is the giant kiev I had at the Lion Inn on the highest point of the North York Moors when I took the Bearded Argentinian on a tour of my favourite places a few years ago. At the opposite end of the spectrum, in so many ways, are the mini kievs we had growing up: a frozen pack of ping pong-sized balls of reformed chicken and mildly garlicky butter and a very high proportion of disappointingly hollow ones.

Chicken Kiev is undoubtedly a classic of the 1970s - for a properly researched history of the Kiev, I strongly recommend Felicity Cloake's Perfect Chicken Kiev article - but recipes for it are scarce in my current collection of cookbooks (must need more books!). The only reference I could find is in the Russian chapter in Woman's Own Cook Book from 1964. Their recipe for "Chicken Kieff" (clever disguise) uses butter with mushrooms instead of garlic, which seems to defeat the object altogether.

These days we are lucky enough to live within sniffing distance of 70s-themed diner Coin Laundry on Exmouth Market, who do a very fine version complete with mini paper chef's hat and branded chewing gum, so I can get my fix as often as I please. But classic kievs are not known for their health stats, so with a little help from Jamie, I've made this version more suitable for everyday, using cream cheese instead of butter and oven baking instead of deep fat frying. The added advantage of the cream cheese is that it doesn't melt as much as butter so there is less leakage during cooking.

Ingredients

(Serves 2)

50g cream cheese

2 cloves garlic, crushed 

30g parmesan
Handful fresh parsley
1 lemon (zest and a small squeeze of juice)

2 large chicken breasts
50g plain flour
1 large egg, beaten
1 slice bread (about 50g), blitzed to breadcrumbs
1 tbsp olive oil

NB No need to home bake an entire sourdough loaf just for one slice of breadcrumbs...

Method

1. In a small bowl, mix together the cream cheese, garlic, 5g of the parmesan, parsley and the lemon zest and juice to make the filling. Season with salt and pepper.

2. Use a sharp knife to cut a pocket in the fattest part of the chicken breast; move the knife around to get as deep as possible. 

3. Add half the filling to each chicken breast and seal the join by pressing the edges firmly together.

4. Put the flour, egg and breadcrumbs in separate shallow bowls, and add the olive oil and remaining parmesan to the breadcrumbs. Coat each breast in flour, followed by egg and then breadcrumbs, shaking off any excess between coats and making sure they are completely and evenly covered.

4. Place on a baking tray and cook in a preheated oven at 200C for 30 minutes until golden brown and the chicken is cooked through.

Enjoy piping hot from the oven with chips or wedges and green vegetables. I'll admit they don't have the squirting garlic butter fear factor, but they are generously filled and the lighter stuffing should be garlicky enough to ward off any vampires.

Swedish lamb with coffee sauce

Apparently it's spring, although as usual the weather has failed to notice. As I write, the rain falls persistently, and as much as I love gazing at the Barbican in the rain, I'm really looking forward to some sunshine. This delicious and slightly unusual stew is perfect for days like these: light enough for post-winter fare but comforting when the weather is refusing to play ball.

This week's recipe is extra special as it's not only from a 1973 cookbook, but was cooked right here in the Barbican for a dinner with friends in November 1984. The recipe is from Robert Carrier's Cooking for You, owned and treasured by a long term Brendon Mews resident and prolific cook.

For more stories about my hunt for vintage recipe books, see my column in this month's Barbican Life magazine (available here soon: http://www.barbicanlifeonline.com/barbican-life-magazine/magazine-issues/, updates via the Facebook page: http://bit.ly/2k0ICuL)

Ingredients

(Serves 4)

1kg lamb shoulder or neck

2 tbsp butter/olive oil

1 onion finely chopped

2 large carrots, thickly sliced

1 tsp sugar

150ml freshly brewed coffee

250ml beef stock

6 tbsp double cream

Method

1. Chop the lamb in 4cm chunks, removing any fat or gristle.

2. In a large casserole, fry the onion in the butter or olive oil until soft; remove from the pan and set aside.

3. Fry the lamb in the same fat until golden brown all over.

4. Return the onions to the pan and add the carrots. Season, sprinkle with sugar and caramelise over a moderate heat for 5 minutes.

5. Stir in the coffee, stock and cream; cover and simmer on a low heat for 1 1/2 hours, stirring regularly.

6. Remove the lamb and carrots from the casserole with a slotted spoon; turn the heat up and reduce the sauce by half.

7. Pour the sauce over the meat and carrots and serve with creamed potatoes, green vegetables and a punchy red wine. 

The lamb ends up really tender, the sweetness of the carrots perfectly balanced by the smoky coffee. We certainly won't be waiting another 33 years to cook this dish again!

The original macaroon: craggy, lumpy and coconutty

When the trend for french patisserie-style macaroons appeared a few years ago, I was very confused. These delicate little biscuits bear absolutely no resemblance to the macaroons I remembered from childhood: craggy lumps of super sweet goo covered in desiccated coconut, with a drizzle of chocolate and a glacé cherry. And 1970s macaroons are incredibly easy to make, which judging by all the classes on how to make the new-fangled version, makes them the polar opposite of each other.

I used a recipe from my 1977 St Michael All Colour Cookbook, which describes coconut macaroons as "soft and sugary, and children adore them". Kids also love making them. The internet offered some alternatives using condensed milk instead of eggs and sugar, but I can't be trusted near an open can of condensed milk (it's so more-ish!) so I went with the egg version. 

Ingredients 

(Makes 8)

1 egg

50g caster sugar

175g desiccated coconut

Melted chocolate and glacé cherries to serve

Method

1. Beat the egg and sugar together with a fork, then stir in the coconut.

2. With wet hands, squidge a golf ball sized lump of mix into a tight ball and place on a greased baking tray. Repeat with the rest of the mixture, then add half a glacé cherry to each.

3. Bake at 180C for 15-20 minutes until lightly golden.

4. When cooled, drizzle each macaroon with a little melted chocolate.

Enjoy with a cup of tea while you book your next dental check up...

Pancakes: not fluffy or fancy - just the best ones to have on pancake day

I love Shrove Tuesday because I love pancakes and I can cook them, which seems to impress people more than it should. Below is the recipe I use every year, and a few times in between, and some tips on getting them right every time. For example, the first pancake is supposed to be a disaster; it means the rest will turn out perfect. 

The recipe I use these days is from old favourite the Good Housekeeping Cookery Book, first published in 1948. My edition was published in 1998 and was a 21st birthday present. But I've been making pancakes for more than 20 years (and eating them for close to 40), so it's not surprising that the pancake recipe is the most well thumbed page in my very first cookbook, How to Boil an Egg, a gift from my Grandpa in 1993.

I relied on this pancake recipe all through university, and it's exactly the same except the measures are less accurate - 4 tablespoons rather than 125g of flour etc - as we didn't have much equipment even in an all girls college kitchen. Surviving in these bleak conditions does mean that I can now tell when the batter is just right, so well worth the hardship.

As for the toppings, for me nothing beats golden syrup with a squirt of lemon juice and a sprinkling of sugar, but I usually have something different on the first pancake just to check...

Ingredients

(makes 6 medium sized pancakes, or 2 people in our house)

125g plain flour

Pinch of salt

1 egg

300ml milk

Vegetable oil for frying (not olive oil or butter as they don't get hot enough).

Toppings: sugar and lemon, golden syrup, Nutella, banana, nuts, chocolate sauce, ice cream, Greek yogurt, dulce de leche, jam, fruit, cream... whatever you're giving up for Lent (I'm thinking lemon juice?)

Method

1. Mix the flour and salt together, make a well in the centre and crack in the egg.

2. Whisk in the egg then gradually add the milk, whisking continuously until the batter is smooth and lump free. Leave to rest for at least 30 minutes.  

3. Heat two teaspoons of oil in a medium sized non-stick frying pan until very hot. Add a ladle full of batter and quickly swirl the pan to coat the bottom with a thin layer. 

4. After a couple of minutes, start lifting the edges of the pancake with a flat spatula or fish slice, easing it up from the bottom until the underside is browned and the pancake lifts off easily.

5.  Flip the pancake over and cook on the other side for about 2 minutes, or until nicely browned.

NB the first pancake is always a mess! Adjust the heat of the pan and try again, it'll probably be fine. If not try adjusting the thickness of the batter with flour (if too thin) or milk (if too thick). For subsequent pancakes you should only need a teaspoon of oil for each. 

6. Eat the pancakes as soon as you can - I prefer to cook one, eat one so they're hot straight from the pan. Add you filling, roll up into a cigar and enjoy!

Ricotta and hazelnut ravioli: another tip from grandma

When the Bearded Argentinian was a young clean-shaven Porteño, he spent most Sundays at his Grandma's house, preparing dinner with the rest of the family. As children, they were allowed to help make the fresh pasta, filing ravioli, cutting the shapes and sealing them with little fingers or a fork. Using her book to make empanadas last week reminded me that fresh pasta ravioli is another classic to share. And, unlike the elusive empanada pastries, absolutely everything in this recipe is easy to get hold of...

The pasta dough recipe is adapted from Grandma's book La Cocina de Lorenzo Taberna (on the right in the photo below) with some help from Antonio Carluccio's Vegetables (on the left). The filling is mainly from memory, with some help from Google.

You can double up the quantities below and freeze the ravioli once constructed but before cooking.

Ingredients

(Serves 2) 

For the pasta dough

200g Italian 00 flour

2 large eggs

Pinch of salt

For the filling

250g ricotta

125g Parmesan, finely grated

1 tbsp flat leaf parsley, finely chopped

1 spring onion, finely chopped

1/2 cup walnuts, very finely chopped, or blitzed to breadcrumb size

1 large egg

Salt, pepper and a grating of nutmeg

Method

1. To make the pasta dough, sift the flour into a mound on the worktop and mix in the salt. Make a well in the flour and crack in the eggs. Mix together with your hands into a thick paste, then bring together into a dough, adding a little water if needed. 

 

2. Knead the dough for 10-15 minutes until smooth and elastic. Wrap in cling film and chill for 30 minutes.

3. Make the filling my combining all the ingredients, adding the egg last and beating in. Season to taste.

4. Divide the pasta dough in two, and roll each piece out on a lightly floured surface as thin as possible, aiming for about 5mm thick. If you have a pasta machine, lucky you, otherwise just keep rolling in different directions to get an even thickness.

5. Place a teaspoon of filling at regular intervals along the dough, leaving about 1cm border around each lump, and brush this border with water. Complete a row, then cover with a strip of pasta dough and press the dough together around each filling, squeezing any air out. NB Children can help with these filling, shaping and sealing steps as demonstrated below by the Bearded Argentinian (in case you thought my hands suddenly got very hairy):

If you have some filling leftover, freeze for next time.

6. Cut the pasta into raviolis using a serrated pasta cutter if you have one (I used a pizza wheel...)

6. Press the edges together - using a fork makes a good seal and looks pretty if you don't have a serrated cutter. Leave the ravioli to rest for 10-15 minutes under a clean tea towel.

7. Cook the ravioli in boiling water for 5 minutes, until the sealed edges are al dente 

These little parcels are so tasty that I don't think you need a sauce. We drizzled with extra virgin olive oil and sprinkled with grated parmesan, snipped chives and a few chilli flakes.

Buenisimo!