caramelised pear and ginger cakes

I don’t think you could say that the above look peely-wally  (pronounced pee-lay-wah-lay and meaning pale in the Scottish vernacular!) but that’s how they looked the first time I baked the original recipe, which used fresh chopped pear as opposed to caramelised.  It may have been that they were supposed to look pale and interesting.  Or possibly I should have given them a bit longer in the oven, but time was up, they were cooked and I didn’t.  

I was going to present you with before and after photos.  Then I figured that if you came upon the before photo on my blog, it would look so unappealing you would not want to read further.  Just take my word for it – insipid does not inspire.

So, I decided second time around, to give them a makeover.  I’d just been drooling over a Let Them Eat Cakes article in the local rag when I spotted toffee pears as a topping for small madeira cakes and thought this would be the answer to making them look more appealing.  I would describe them as buttered or caramelised pears, toffee to me suggests more stickiness. Done this way the pear gives the cakes the colour they previously lacked and a richer, more buttery flavour.

I also cranked up the darkness of the sugar using dark cane muscovado-type instead of light brown sugar.  Finally, I checked cooking time to make sure they were nicely coloured as well as cooked just so.  And they were.  

I have to say I preferred them done this way.  I also have to say, and am almost embarrassed to say, that the original recipe is one of Nigella’s. 

Lest you think me conceited, I think I need to emphasize that I am not trying to improve Nigella’s recipe (they tasted really good, honest!), I am just titivating my own past attempt (or maybe I should shout from the rooftops - move over Nigella, I’m improving your recipes!). 

In Nigella’s recipe, they were muffins.  This time I baked half in muffin tins and half in mini Bundt cake silicone moulds. The little cakes looked lovely.  Next time, I’ll include an extra caramelised pear and fill the centres of the Bundt cakes once they’ve been cooked.  I think that would look really nice.

Caramelised pear & ginger cakes (or muffins!)

Makes 12

1 large pear or 2 small (approx. 300g) I used Beurre Bosc

1 tbsp butter

1 tbsp caster sugar

250g standard flour

2 tsp baking powder

150g caster sugar

75g dark cane (or muscovado) sugar

1 tsp ground ginger

42ml* sour cream (about 3 tbsp)

125ml rice bran (or vegetable) oil

2 eggs

1 tbsp honey (I used runny honey)

Extra dark cane sugar to sprinkle on top

Preheat oven to 200°C.

Grease a muffin tray or line with muffin cases.  If using mini-Bundt tins grease them. If you have silicone moulds, this is not required.

For the buttered pear

Peel and core the pear and cut into slices.  Heat a frying pan, add the butter and the sugar.  When bubbling, add the pear slices and cook for a few minutes each side until caramelised.  Remove pear slices and place on a paper towel to soak up excess liquid.  When cool, chop into small cubes. 

For the muffin mix

Use a sieve with a fairly open mesh to combine the dry ingredients – flour, baking powder, caster sugar, dark cane sugar and ground ginger – into a bowl.  The sieve will help break up any lumps in the dark sugar.  Mix to combine.

In a large bowl, whisk the sour cream, oil, honey and eggs and fold into the dry ingredients.

Gently mix in the chopped pear and divide the mixture between the tins.

Scatter a sprinkling of the extra sugar over the tops.

Bake for 20 minutes or until muffins spring back when touched and are nicely browned.

Cool on a wire tray.

*The 42ml presumably comes from the sour cream pot size sold in the UK and I have converted into tablespoons.

etcetera...#3

I missed out on seeing any Auckland Film Festival films this year.  But I have seen…

Bill Cunningham New York

Movie/documentary

I admire creative people. I wish I could be more imaginative.  I envy those who work daily with their passion in life.  This charming documentary follows Bill Cunningham, a photographer in his eighties, as he rides his pedal bike or stands on street corners snapping people who catch his eye, covering society events and capturing the city’s nightlife for the New York Times.  Fashion is Bill’s passion in life and he lives it obsessively.  Attending numerous events (and turning down quite a collection of invites too) such is his integrity that he doesn’t accept even a glass of water whilst working as he does not want to be obliged to anyone.  What a breath of fresh air.  I stepped out onto the street after the movie smiling and wanting to be kind to people.  It has that effect.  It has such heart.  Go see it.

Afternoons with Margueritte

Movie

Yes, I spelt Margueritte correctly – it’s Margueritte with two t’s as the little old lady points out. 

Treated as the village idiot by other inhabitants and even worse by his own mother, Germain (Gerard Depardieu) meets a petite, elegant lady in her 90s in a park he frequents to feed the birds.  A friendship develops and Margueritte introduces him to the world of books.

Friends who’d seen this French movie all recommended it. I don’t know, perhaps I just wasn’t in the mood but I found it slightly irritating, ponderous, at times implausible and verging on slapstick.  Did Gerard Depardieu write into his contract that he had to have a very young lover?  I can’t think of another reason why a sexy and attractive young woman would be in a relationship with this character – sorry, it was bordering on creepy.  Does a supposedly barely literate man start reading effortlessly in such a short time, gliding over each word without pause?  I thought not.  Perhaps I’m just too cynical?  But you don’t have to listen to me.  Apparently I’m in the minority, so view it for yourself.

I should have gone to see this film instead.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2

Movie

Finally I got to see this at the Rialto in Newmarket, Auckland.   I recommend an early morning sitting if, like me, you want to avoid the texting, feet on seats, talking, giggling at inappropriate moments audience you might normally find at such films (they’re still in their beds).  Bliss - there was only one other person present (adult with no apparent cellphone nor restless foot and mouth), and I had a lovely coffee to sip. 

And the film? I’m always apprehensive I will dislike movies I have high hopes for.  No disappointments here.  The stylized darkness of more recent HP films is still evident – a disarming bird’s eye shot of the Hogwarts’ rampart with dark, sombre students almost frog marching was quite chilling.  There's enough action but not excessive. I’m not much into action films.  Is it just me or has there been a glut of giant trolls in films since Lord of the Rings?  Oh yes, I know, the script called for giants.  Groan.  Every time I see one I think of Weta workshop and there goes the magic!

The sad moments were mercifully consigned to the background (well, Dobbie dying in the last one was enough for me, thanks) and although it was a more serious chapter, the humour was still evident.

And that’s it, the end of the books and the films.  I have lost my voice on occasions or choked back tears reading the books to my daughter when she was younger.  It was a lovely connection we had together and now it’s all over.  Bye bye Harry Potter, we loved you!

If you’d like some more film reviews, visit this link to Plum Kitchen and see how she uses  “tractor” ratings to rank movies  – very amusing. 

And read this book.

Hand Me Down World

Lloyd Jones

I purchased this book at midday one day, starting reading it at 4 o’clock to get in a few hours reading.  Next day, I sat in the sun at lunch reading for half an hour, then read solid for two hours when I got home.  By 6pm I had closed the last page.  Whew!  But why?  Well, to be in time to discuss it at book club, that’s why.  Like me, one of our book club members had done the same.  We’d both read reviews that implied there was a twist to the tale.  So the dilemma – do we limit everyone to talking around the book and avoiding spoiling it for us?  Or, do we push to finish it. This was the kind of book that made me want to keep turning the pages.  Drawn in from the start, I was captivated.  It was satisfying to devour it in a couple of sessions as a continuous flow without forgetting where I’d got to in the plot the last time I put it down.  

The novel is the story of a mysterious woman, whose child is taken from her, and we follow her journey from Tunisia to Berlin to find the boy.  Except she’s not telling the story.  The author uses people the woman meets along the way to recount her journey.  The truth or versions of the truth unfold slowly.  Finally, readers get to hear the woman’s own personal account.  This is a beautifully written, haunting story about identity, other people’s perceptions, survival and motherhood that you will want to read again. 

little carrot cakes

I can’t believe a month has passed without me posting a blog.  It’s not that I haven’t been baking; it’s more a case of indecisiveness.  Not knowing what recipe to use, dithering about what photo to post, or worse not having any words pouring out from my head to my fingers no matter how long I sit at the laptop.

I am pleased to finally be able to say this is it.  Not only is it a post, it’s a special post as it is my contribution to  Sweet New Zealand – a monthly blogging event for NZ bloggers set up by Alessandra Zecchini just for fun and to get to know each other better.  I am so looking forward to being a part of that and discovering more bloggers, so thank you Alessandra for coming up with the idea.

And so to the baking.  While nosing at a cute little cake in a colleague’s lunchbox, she told me that because there is only her and her husband at home if she bakes, they usually end up eating a whole cake between them - (such hardship, I know!).  So, instead of baking a whole carrot cake she bakes little cakes, muffins or cupcakes and freezes them for work.  

I'm with her on that as I am a fan of little cakes too and these carrot cakes are the perfect, munchable size. 

In the morning, just dip in the freezer, choose your cake and you’re all set for dropping it in your lunch bag for a tasty treat later.  Keep the icing and topping in containers (the icing will need to go in the fridge).  Before you go, top the frozen mini cake with the icing, sprinkle with the ready mixed chopped apricots and pumpkin seeds and, if you have time, quickly finish with small curls of orange zest.   The frozen cake will keep the icing cool until your ready to eat, by which time the cake should have defrosted.

If you prefer, try them naked - they’re just as good, a little spicy and and not too sweet.

naked little cake

Hints: when writing the codes on the plastic bags at the bulk bins at the supermarket, date the pack too so you’ll know roughly when the product needs to be thrown out.

When orange, lemon or lime zest is called for, I often use a zester then chop the strands finely – I find it a bit of a short cut to grating zest and spending so much time scraping it off the grater.  If I’m really lazy and it doesn’t matter too much for the end result, I whack it in without chopping at all.

little carrot cakes

Makes 12

100g soft brown sugar

160ml rice bran oil (or similar)

2 eggs

grated zest of 1 orange

½ tsp cinnamon

½ tsp ginger

¼ tsp cardamom

200g self-raising flour

1 medium carrot (about 150g), grated

¼ cup (about 35-40g) sultanas

60g walnuts, chopped (optional)

icing

150g cream cheese

finely grated zest of 1 orange

60g icing sugar, sifted

Topping: chopped pumpkin seeds, dried apricots and curls of orange zest.

Preheat oven to 180°C (350°F) Gas 4.

Place sugar in a bowl and break up using the back of a fork.  Beat in the oil and eggs.  Stir in orange zest, cinnamon, ginger and cardamom.  Sift the flour into the bowl and fold in, then add the carrot, sultanas and nuts if using.

Divide the mixture between 12 cupcake-sized paper cases.  Bake in the oven for about 20 minutes until risen and a skewer inserted in the middle comes out clean.  Transfer to a wire rack to cool.

Icing  - Beat the cream cheese until softened and creamy, add the grated orange zest.  Sift the icing sugar and beat in.  Use enough icing sugar to reach the consistency you desire.  Spread over the cakes.  Decorate with some chopped pumpkin seeds, apricots and orange zest.

cranberry and custard scones

To think I could have been indulging in these scones for years – six to be exact.  For that is how long the recipe has been languishing in my folder.  Unused.  Unloved.  Until now.

I’ve passed over this recipe many times.  Not because they didn’t look lovely – large scones oozing with custard and drizzled with icing – but because I thought they’d be time consuming.  Whipping up a batch of scones is one thing, but custard and icing too?  Sigh … if only I’d known.

Well now I can confirm that this recipe takes scones to a new high.  My first taste – and I couldn’t wait to taste them – was like biting into a cross between a Danish pastry and a scone.  Seriously scrumptious.  The vultures thought so too.  The scones vanished in seconds. 

As well as mistakenly waiting too long to attempt them, I also erred in the amount I made.  I halved the recipe figuring three of us would not eat twelve scones.  Wrong.  Three of us would have eaten twelve scones.  Hell, one of us may have eaten twelve scones!  I swear they were that good.  The look on B’s face said the same.  If there is one piece of sage advice I can give you – I implore you to make lots!

The recipe was published in City Mix magazine in 2005 and came from the then chef, Katrina Smith of Craven “A” café, 4 Saint Paul St, Auckland (I believe the café is still there, not sure if the chef is).  The café is near the University of Auckland and I imagine masses of grateful students have hungrily demolished these.  A warning to Katrina – if you ever see me, run!  I feel I am going to be overcome with gratitude for this treat and plant big kisses on your cheeks!

cranberry and custard scones

Makes 12 scones

a handful of dried cranberries

3 cups standard flour

3 tsp baking powder

3 tbsp brown sugar

1 pinch salt

200g butter, diced or grated

milk

1 egg, lightly beaten

2 cups custard (make custard following packet directions)

Preheat oven to 220°C.

Place cranberries in a saucepan, add a little water and heat gently until cranberries are softened and water has evaporated.  Drain to remove excess water and leave to cool.

Make custard following packet directions (or use store-bought, chilled custard) and leave to cool (place in the fridge to cool down quickly if you are short of time). 

Mix the flour, baking powder, sugar and salt in a bowl.  Rub in the butter until mixture resembles fine breadcrumbs.  Add enough milk to form a soft, but not sticky, dough – use a palette knife to bring the mixture together.  Roll dough into a large rectangle and cut in half.  Brush both halves with the beaten egg.

Spread the custard over one half of the dough and sprinkle with the cranberries.  Place the other half of the dough on top.  Brush the top with beaten egg.  Cut into 12 pieces, place on a lined baking tray and bake for 20-30 minutes.

When cooled slightly but still warm, drizzle the scones with the icing, or you can glaze with hot jam or dust with icing sugar.

passionfruit cream biscuits

I was in two minds as to whether to start on these or not.  I don’t know where Saturday morning had gone but it was now afternoon and it felt like baking time was over.  I still had dinner to decide on, I wanted to read a book and I was thinking that they’d take more time than stated.  But I’m glad I did.  Perfect little biscuits and so easy to make. 

I don’t think I have ever made biscuits with a buttercream filling before – if I have, it was certainly a long time ago.  But I felt like something different and these looked so dainty.  The biscuits are sweet but not sickly sweet like packet varieties.  And I loved the passionfruit flavour and the crunch of the passionfruit seeds in the biscuit.

I used a slightly larger cookie cutter than specified and that made 18 biscuits and you know the size was fine – in fact it was hard to stop at eating just one!  

If you’re not going to eat all the biscuits straight away, fill the ones you need and put the buttercream in the fridge.  That will keep the biscuits from softening with the filling.  You will need to bring the filling to room temperature before you can pipe the rest.  The biscuits tasted good without the filling too.

I put one tray of biscuits in to bake while I cut the second lot of dough. That meant I didn’t have to worry about uneven baking or moving trays around. 

I impressed myself by piping the filling onto the biscuit base, none too professionally mind (just look at the photo if you don’t believe me!) – I definitely have a lot to learn as far as piping and icing skills are concerned but at least I gave it a go.

I’ll be making these again.  Now I can go sit by the fire with my book and indulge in a cookie or two with a cup of tea – and to hell with dinner!

passionfruit cream biscuits

125g (4oz) butter, softened

2 tsp finely grated lemon rind (peel)

1/3 cup (75g) caster (superfine) sugar

2 tbsp golden syrup or treacle

1 cup (150g) self-raising flour

2/3 cup (100g) plain (all-purpose) flour

¼ cup (60ml) passionfruit pulp

passionfruit cream

2 tbsp passionfruit pulp*

90g (3 ounces) butter, softened

1 cup (160g) icing (confectioners’) sugar

*I used store-bought passionfruit pulp.  If you use fresh passionfruit, you will need about six.

Beat butter, rind and sugar in an electric mixer bowl until light and fluffy.  Add golden syrup, beat until combined.  Stir in sifted dry ingredients and passionfruit pulp.

Turn dough onto floured surface, knead gently until smooth.  Cut dough in half; roll each portion between baking paper or plastic wrap to a thickness of 5mm (¼ inch).  Refrigerate 30 minutes.

Preheat oven to 180°C/350°F.  Grease oven trays, line with baking paper.

Cut 25 x 4 cm (1½ inch) fluted rounds from each portion of dough; place about 2.5cm (1 inch) apart on trays.

Bake biscuits about 10 minutes.  Cool on trays.

While biscuits are cooling, make passionfruit cream.  Spoon passionfruit cream into a piping bag fitted with 5mm (¼ inch) fluted tube.  Pipe cream onto half the biscuits.  Serve dusted with a little extra sifted icing sugar.

passionfruit cream  Strain passionfruit pulp through a fine sieve into a small jug, discard seeds.  Beat butter and sugar in a small bowl with electric mixer until light and fluffy.  Beat in passionfruit juice.

Recipe from The Australian Women’s Weekly – afternoon tea

fruity anzac biscuits

Call these fruity oat sultana cookies or what you will.  In New Zealand and Australia, a simpler version is known as an ANZAC biscuit.  Originating from the biscuits sent to ANZAC (Australia and New Zealand Army Corps) soldiers serving during the First World War, they were made to be hard and long lasting.  Over the years softer and chewier versions of this popular biscuit have appeared.  The ones I baked were definitely at the softer, chewier range of the spectrum, which I like. 

In this version, dried fruit and toasted sunflower seeds have been added giving a fruity taste and more varied texture.  I particularly liked the toasted sunflower seeds, with their nice snappy crunch.  I toasted the seeds by placing them in a small heavy cast-iron fry pan over a dry heat for a few minutes, shaking the pan for even toasting - but do watch carefully as they can burn quickly. 

I substituted cranberries, which I had, for dried figs, which I didn’t have.  I would have to try them with dried figs before I could confirm my preference, but I really liked the cranberries, both for taste and added colour.

Apparently they also freeze well.  Does the instruction thaw at room temperature before eating seem a bit obvious to you?

I will be making these again – lovely biscuits, little effort!

fruity anzac biscuits

Adapted from recipe by Dean Brettschneider (A Treasury of New Zealand Baking)

140g butter

60g golden syrup

80g rolled oats

70g sunflower seeds, lightly toasted

50g sultanas

60g cranberries

75g dried apricots, chopped

65g desiccated or thread coconut

125g standard flour

90g brown sugar

5g baking soda

2 tbsp boiling water

Preheat oven to 180°C and line two baking trays with baking paper.

Melt butter and golden syrup together in a saucepan.

Place all remaining ingredients, except the baking soda and the boiling water, in a large mixing bowl.  Stir well to combine.

Place the baking soda in a small heatproof jug and pour the boiling water over it, stirring well to dissolve.  Add to the butter and golden syrup mixture, then pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and mix well.

Place large tablespoonfuls of the dough on to the trays.  Flatten each to a circle of about 6cm, leaving at least 2cm between each one.

Bake for 12-15 minutes, until the biscuits have risen, spread slightly and turned golden brown.  Rotate trays halfway through cooking.  Remove from the oven and allow the biscuits to cool slightly before placing them on a wire rack.

Makes about 18 biscuits.

tamarillo, apple & coconut shortcake

I dislike wasting food and I had seven dark-red, tart and flavourful tamarillos ripening by the day.  If there had been muesli, I would have halved them, sprinkled them with brown sugar and put them under the grill.  But lately there has been little time to make muesli and I have been content with my brown-sugar-sweetened porridge.

I wanted to make something sweet with them – not chutney – a pie of some sort.  I was hoping to replicate a sweet, tamarillo pie I had eaten at a café on the way to the Coromandel some years ago but couldn’t quite remember what form it took.  I had a vague idea about using coconut.

Just as the tamarillos were facing a future in the food waste bin, the rural women of New Zealand came to my rescue.  Well, one of them - in the form of a cookbook, A Good Spread – Recipes from the kitchens of Rural Women New Zealand.  Sometimes the sparseness of information in recipes from these types of books leaves me high and dry, but not this one.

I liked the idea of using dates and rum, along with the tamarillos and apples. Their flavours sweeten and mellow the tartness of the fruit. 

Initially I was going to omit the rum (recipe didn’t state whether to use light or dark). Instead, I substituted it with Malibu – it seemed a natural choice to marry with the coconut I have added to the recipe. 

I misread the recipe and added the honey and rum before bringing the mixture to a thick, pulpy texture, which is why my filling ended up runny.  I used a slotted spoon to remove the fruit without too much of the liquid.

I also forgot to take a photo of the tamarillos in their natural state.  Now that is a shame as they are so photogenic with their egg-shaped, smooth dark red skin and long dangly stems.  There will be other times for photographs though, as I will definitely make this recipe again.  It is good as a dessert or cut into squares for morning or afternoon tea.

tamarillo, apple & coconut shortcake

2 green (or cooking) apples

6 -7 tamarillos

zest of 1 lemon

juice of about ½ lemon (or use juice & zest of 1 lime)

½ cup chopped dates

¼ cup sugar

2 dessertspoons honey

2 dessertspoons Malibu (coconut-flavoured white rum)

1 teaspoon thread coconut (or use desiccated coconut)

Shortcake

125g butter

125g sugar

1 egg

225g flour

1½ tsp baking powder

1 heaped dessertspoon custard powder

Peel and thinly slice apples.  Place in a saucepan with just enough water to cover the bottom and stew until apples are beginning to soften.  Add peeled and sliced tamarillos, lemon zest and juice, chopped dates and sugar.  Cook, stirring frequently, until the mixture is soft, pulpy and thickened.  Remove from heat and add honey and Malibu.  Cool.

To make shortcake, cream butter and sugar, add egg and beat again.  Mix in sifted flour, baking powder and custard powder until combined and the dough forms a ball.  Add a little extra flour if it is too sticky.

Press half the dough into a deep, greased and lined 23cm baking or pie dish.  I used a 21cm square tin.

Spread the filling on the base (if you think the filling is too liquid, use a slotted spoon to remove fruit mix without liquid).  Sprinkle the coconut over the top.

With your fingers, pluck smallish pieces from the remaining half dough and dot all over the top.  Alternatively, you can roll the second half of dough into a log or ball, chill or freeze until firm and grate over the top.  I went for blobs of shortcake, as I just wanted it in the oven.

Bake at 180°C for 20-30 minutes or until topping is golden and cooked through.  Serve warm or cold, sprinkled with icing sugar and whipped cream. 

Adapted from a recipe by Cynthia Harfoot, Cambridge, published in A Good Spread – Recipes from the kitchens of Rural Women New Zealand.