Venison Stew with Cheese Crusted Dumplings

I remembered I had said I would do a post on Sussex Pond Pudding when I was talking about lemons last week, and I had indeed put together the makings of some suet crust pastry when I found myself hi jacked by a venison stew which came out of the oven just crying out for dumplings. So I'm afraid the Sussex Pond Pudding will have to wait for another day. I will do it though because I like it and I haven't made it for years.

The venison in this recipe was just some offcuts I had saved in the freezer from a very large joint of venison we had in the autumn, almost any cut would do, or you could use some stewing beef. It's quite a simple stew, but I think the dumplings just make it extra warming for a winter's supper. Perfect for night like tonight when I see we have yet another dose of freezing wet sleety stuff from on high. What a winter this has been.

1 pound/500g venison, or stewing beef

1 tablespoon flour

1 large onion

1 stick celery

1 large garlic clove

a few glugs of red wine about a third of a bottle if you can wrestle that much away from your husband

sprig thyme

Chop up the onion garlic and celery and fry in a little dripping or olive oil for a minute or two then add the floured venison and continue to cook until nicely browned. Add the wine and allow to bubble fiercely enough to drown out the howls of complaint about a waste of good wine...

Season well, transfer to a casserole and cook in a moderate oven for, depending on the cut of meat,about an hour, until the meat seems tender when prodded. Meanwhile make your dumplings and set aside until ready.

For the dumplings
4 oz/100g Self raising flour
2oz/50g Shredded suet
level teaspoon baking powder
salt pepper
pinch mixed herbs

Mix everything together in a bowl and add enough cold water to make a pliable but not sticky dough. Don't knead or handle the dough too much. Form into golf ball sized balls and drop onto the top of the casserole,

replace the lid and return to the oven for half an hour if you like your dumplings soft and fluffy, when they will have puffed up and be nestling snugly on top of the casserole like this -

If you like them with a crusty top, take off the lid after 10 minutes, brush with beaten egg and sprinkle with a little grated cheese. Return to oven without lid to brown.

Serve with root mash and green veg of choice.

Raymond Blanc Kitchen Secrets

I don't normally review TV progs here, but I just watched the first instalment of Raymond Blanc's new cooking series and thought it was excellent, and not just because it was all about chocolate. So many cooking shows are aimed at evincing a change of attitude/behaviour in the doner kebab/kfc brigade, that it's nice to see something clearly aimed at people who already enjoy eating good food and probably already do a good bit of cooking (she said smugly). I just think there's been a bit too much emphasis on Here's-how-to-cook-a-great-dinner-in-twelve-seconds type of thing recently. I know it was a bit cheffy, and most of us don't have a brigade of sous chefs running around after us. (How great would that be, I could just stand there in the kitchen and shout "rolling pin" and some one would instantly come running along with one.)

And whilst I'm on about Raymond, I would also recommend his brasseries, - we've had lunch in a couple of them and found them excellent, and not too pricey. I think in the evenings they get a bit more haute cuisine and certainly at the Manoir aus Quat' Saisons in Oxfordshire where the series was filmed you'd need (or at least I would need) a fairly major Special Occasion to justify a visit, but I'd like to go there as much for the famous gardens as for the food.

Pourquoi does my lavender bed not look like this, je me demande?

Anyway I found the programme inspiring and will definately have a go at some of the recipes. I rather fancy that chocolate tart thing, I'm going to start saying Voila! at the end of every sentence and hopefully get a bit of  what Raymond calls "serry-oos admiration".

If you missed it it's available to watch again on BBC iplayer here

Chewy Chocolate Chip Cookies

Generally speaking, I'm not the greatest fan of some of America's contributions to our diet, like MacDonalds and Coca Cola, but there are many notable exceptions, and one such is the American Cookie. The British baked item of choice for enjoying with a cup of tea has traditionally been a rather harder more solid type of thing, I'm thinking Chocolate Hobnobs, Ginger Nuts, Shortbread, and so on, whereas the American effort is more  likely to be in the form of the chewy, slightly soft Cookie; chocolate chip, oatmeal and raisin etc. I love them - they really are quite addictive. So fond have I become of this style of biscuit, or cookie, that I find my old Gingernuts are now transformed out of all recognition. In fact they can no longer really be called Gingernuts, more of a Gingerbend, or possibly Gingerdroop, - 

I'm still using the recipe I've always used but I just bake them slightly less and I find in this way I am able to consume even more of them  than I did before.

I'm not sure that this is a good thing.

However, there is a slight problem with this style of baked goods if you live in the UK, in that if you leave a tin of biscuits, say Jammy Dodgers or something, out with the lid off, they do go a bit soft and lose their crispness, (rather in the style of an old British Rail cafe, stale hard sandwiches and stale soft biscuits) And so if you offer your freshly baked bendable cookie to an unsuspecting visitor they might just think that you're trying to fob them off with some elderly specimens that have been hanging around the larder for a bit too long, so be sure to announce in ringing tones as you're pouring the tea,

              "Do try one of my American style cookies, and yes, they are supposed to be like that."

I've tried quite a few different recipes and I now stick to my old gingernut recipe for the basic idea, and just change the ingredients for say, chocolate chip, or other variations. I don't really like unneccessary complication, and I find this simple method gives reliable results. But do take care not to overbake them or you'll get crisp biscuits instead of chewy cookies.

Ginger Bendies (or Gingernuts if you bake them long enough)

This is Delia's recipe, it's very quick and easy, I've been using it for years, but as I say, I now underbake them and get a softer chewier result.

2 oz/50g butter
4oz/100g Self raising flour
1 teaspoon Bicarbonate of soda
1 teaspoon ground ginger
2oz/50g granulated sugar
2 tablespoons Golden syrup

The easiest way to do this is definately in the Kitchenaid/Kenwood. Just put the first five ingredients into the bowl and use the paddle on a medium/slow speed to breadcrumb stage. Then with the motor still running add the golden syrup (use hot spoon to measure it out more easily) and mix briefly until a rough dough forms. (Obviously you can easily do this by hand as I did for many years - just rub the fat into the flour to breadcrumb stage, add other ingredients and form into a dough.)

Form into walnut sized balls on a baking sheet and press down lightly like this

and bake for 10 minutes on the bottom shelf of the Aga with the plain cold shelf above, gas 4 Electric 175C. Take them out before you think they are ready, they will be puffy and palely golden, and will start to collapse as soon as you take them out, but don't worry that's all part of the plan. If you want crispy gingernuts, leave them a minute or two longer. Allow to firm up for a minute, then transfer to a wire cooling rack.

Chocolate Chip Cookies

2ounces/50g  butter

4oz/100g Self Raising Flour

1 teaspoon Bicarbonate of Soda

2oz/50g Granulated Sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla essence, or seeds of half a vanilla pod

6oz/150g chopped up chocolate**

2 tablespoons Golden Syrup

Using the same method as above, put the first four ingredients in the mixer bowl and use the paddle on medium /slow speed to breadcrumb stage. Then with the motor still running add the remaining ingredients and mix briefly until a rough dough forms.

Form into golfball sized blobs on a baking sheet and bake on the bottom rung of the Aga roasting oven with the plain cold sheet just above. For gas about 4, electric 175C /350F  for 10 minutes. Take them out before you think they are done. This will ensure that you get the chewyness, as opposed the crunchiness that we are looking for. They will be puffy, and palely golden, and will start to collapse as soon as you take them out. Don't worry, that's how they should be.

 Leave a few minutes to firm up then transfer to a wire cooling rack.

**You may think this is rather a lot of chocolate for a dozen cookies, in fact rather more chocolate chip than cookie, but in my book, if you're having a treat, you don't want to be fishing around wondering where the next bit of chocolate is do you?

Snowdrops, Galanthophiles, and Dinner Parties

Well, the weather has turned colder here in the Cotswolds,  and flurries of snow have been witnessed yet again, so I regret to report that I have still not been out in the garden to do all those jobs that I know I should have completed ages ago. So in view of that it seemed a good idea to discuss what I might be doing in a week or two if I ever get round to it.
And that is splitting snowdrops.

Snowdrops, unlike me, are completely undeterred by bad weather, and are in full flower both in my garden and all around the village. They don't seem to mind about situation, climate, or anything else, and will happily grow under trees where summer subjects would languish and fade away. This is  because, obviously, they do pretty well all their growing before the tree canopy has appeared and blocked out the sunlight. And unlike most bulbs, they are best increased "in the green" as it is called, rather than by planting as dry bulbs in the autumn, when we would generally think about planting for a spring display.

So if you have a few clumps and would like to increase your display to a vast carpet, like the one at Colesbourne Park in Gloucestershire, all you have to do is wait until the flowers start to fade, then dig up the clump, break it into groups of say, half a dozen or so bulbs, and replant in little groups all over your designated area. In a couple of years you will have twenty ot thirty clumps where you had just one. And remember that there are different varieties besides the wild Galanthus Nivalis native one, lovely though that is. In my own garden I have a number of different sorts, some early and some late, Galanthus Elwesii, the so called giant snowdrop, and a double flowered one, Flore Plena which I think is a bit weird. I always intend to identify all of the different varieties that I have but never get round to it, - in fact there are loads of  different varieties, and there is even a special name for afficionados of snowdrops,- Galanthophiles - people who collect and appreciate the many different varieties of this lovely harbinger of spring and who are said to gather together in smoke filled rooms to exchange seed of rare varieties in dark corners. Just the kind of thing to captivate people at dinner parties - I can see it at the next village Wine Evening, "Camilla, have you met Charles, he's a galanthophile you know...but don't worry he's having therapy."

Colesbourne Park, the ancestral home of Henry Elwes, after whom the large form was named, is quite close to here and well worth a visit at this time of year.

Oranges and Lemons

One of the most annoying things about supermarkets is they way they have robbed us of our sense of seasonality. The tired old pile of courgettes sits there month in month out, the price hardly changing to reflect their journey from the other side of the world this month, and there, just the same in September when they are in season here and should be almost free. Same for strawberries.  Don't get me wrong, I love the convenience of supermarkets as much as the next shopper, but there's a price to be  paid, sometimes I think it's more than I want to  pay. Anyway, that concludes this weeks Reith lecture on Seasonality.
I was actually thinking about oranges and how when I was small they used to be considered in season in winter, which I suppose makes sense really considering they are of course imported from hot places. But then they were quite a luxury, and not the bogof  bags of cheap satsumas of today. My dad served in the Palestine Police during the British Protectorate in 1946, and I can still remember him showing us children the amazing photos of him standing next to a mountain of oranges that was bigger than he was! We could hardly believe it. Tangerines were still special enough to get one in your Christmas stocking in the fifties.

So anyway, apart from marmalade, there's lots of other lovely citrussy recipes well worth making at home. As it's still too early in the year for any home grown fruit, citrussy things like Lemon Curd, and puddings like Sussex Pond pudding are definately worth having a bash at, mostly because you can't buy them. Or at least you can't buy anything like the quality that you can make. Proper lemon curd is the most delicious and wholesome thing if you make it yourself, being mostly fresh eggs, butter, and lemons - (ok and a bit of sugar) but nothing like the commercial stuff. And Sussex Pond pudding, being a suet pudding, is completely unobtainable unless you make it yourself. I think the reason suet puddings have gone out of fashion is not that they are too fattening, (no worse than any other pudding really) but they don't lend themselves to freezing, chilling, canning or any other method of preservation, and so are never seen. If you want one, you have to make it, and you have to make it on the day you want to eat it. So I'll try to make one tomorrow and post the photos.

But for today, Lemon Curd

2 oz/50g butter
2 eggs and 2 egg yolks
2 lemons
6 oz 150g caster sugar

Zest the lemons with your fine blade microplane grater (they're expensive but brilliant).

Squeeze the juice and put into a saucepan with the zest, and all other ingredients.

Stir over a gentle heat until the sugar dissolves. Continue stirring over the lowest heat until thickened. Don't overheat, or you'll get lemon scrambled eggs, which is not great. Use a double boiler if you're nervous.

Pot into small sterilized jars and cover.

Store in the fridge for up to three weeks.

Having said that, when I made this I used the handy/lazy Aga method, which involves virtually no stirring at all. You just put the sugar, butter and lemon in a pyrex jug or a  preserving jar, and leave it in the simmering oven for an hour to dissolve.

Then you take it out, add the eggs and beat for a minute,

and put it back in the simmering oven for another hour by which time it will have thickened and set, all by itself. Magic.

Uses - makes simple things special -

Lemon curd tarts - use a rich shortcrust pastry or any trimmings you have leftover when making anything pastry based. You'll never throw pastry offcuts away again! Bake in a moderate oven, like shortbread,  ie don't overbrown the pastry or boil the curd.

Cake filling - All in one sponge cake, filled with lemon curd and whipped cream, or mascarpone.

Delicious for tea, just spread on a doorstep of home made buttered bread.

It's Marmalade Time Again!

The sour oranges from Seville are the best for making marmalade, that wonderful staple of the English breakfast table. They are only in season for a short time though, around January. I noticed this year that Waitrose are stocking organic seville oranges at £2.20 a kilo, which is only slightly more than the ordinary kind which I have seen in Tesco's at £2.00 kg. As I understand citrus fruit is quite heavily sprayed, it seems like a bargain, so stock up now while you have the opportunity, and you can have a whole year's supply of marmalade in the larder. If you don't have the time to make it straight away, and it's not the kind of thing you can just dash off in a spare ten minutes,the fruit keeps well in the freezer, just put whole fruit in plastic bags and freeze to use at a later time.

There are as many recipes for marmalade as I've had hot dinners, (and that's quite a few) but over the years I've found this is the easiest, and most reliable. It's particularly useful for Aga owners, in that you can leave the fruit to cook in the bottom oven overnight, but it's easily adapted to ordinary cookers.

I generally make two styles of marmalade, as I find that consumers fall into two distinct camps. The ones who like fine shreds in a light orange fruity marmalade, generally women,  and those who like big chunks in an altogether darker preserve, usually men. So I call them Ladies Breakfast Marmalade, and Gentleman's Oxford Style Marmalade respectively. However, I'm not sexist about it and you can actually eat whichever you like, with no sinister hormonal effects.

Ladies Breakfast Marmalade
should yield around 10lbs
3 lbs/1.5kg seville oranges (or any mixture of other citrus if you prefer)
2 lemons
6lbs/3kg granulated sugar
4 pints/2.5litres water

Place the whole fruits in the water in a saucepan and bring to the boil. Cover and simmer very gently until soft. This can be acheived in the slow oven of the Aga overnight (be sure to put a plate on top of the fruit to avoid unsightly browing), or on the hob on a very slow simmer for a couple of hours or so, until the skins are very soft.  Leave until cool enough to handle, then halve the fruit and scoop the insides out with a soup spoon back into the saucepan, and set the peels aside. Place the saucepan back on the heat to simmer gently while you deal with the peel.

Cut each half in half again, and then taking several skins together slice the peel as thinly as you can. It should be quite soft and easy to cut.

When you have finished all the peel, remove the saucepan from the heat and pour the contents through a sieve, into a roomy preserving pan, pressing the pulp with a wooden spoon. Discard the contents of the sieve, and add the sliced peel, and the sugar to the pan and return to the heat. Stir over gentle heat until all the sugar is dissolved and you can feel no grittiness with your spoon.

Now you can turn up the heat and boil the marmalade to setting point. You can discern this by use of a jam thermometer, which will register around 220F/105C, or by the old fashioned cold plate method.

Place a small plate in the freezer for a few minutes, and when you are ready to test, drop a small spoonfull onto the plate. If, after a minute or two you can push the marmalade with your finger and it forms a wrinkly skin, then it's ready. It's difficult to be exact, but it  shouldn't really take much more than ten or fifteen minutes, sometimes less.

Turn off the heat and stir in a knob of butter, which helps disperse scum. You will need to allow the marmalade to cool a little before potting, so that all the peel doesn't rise to the tops of the jars. Ten minutes or so should do it. Make sure your jars are clean and sterile by putting them in the oven for ten minutes or on a hot dishwasher cycle. Cover straight away with cellophane covers, or even better, screw tops.

Gentleman's Oxford Style Marmalade

Make exactly as above but slice the peel in chunkier bits, and when adding the sugar include  two good tablespoons of black treacle, or blackstrap molasses.

Don'f forget the pretty labels.

Italian Lamb Stew

I found some unspecified "stewing lamb" on special offer in Waitrose, looked like sliced shoulder to me, and it was english, so I thought it would be a good candidate for this nice rich, stew. I think it cost just over £2 and was ample for two of us. I'm not sure how authentically Italian it is, but I've always known it as such, probably from the days when anything with tomatoes in it was "Italian". Anyway it's certainly tasty and easy to do, especially if you have a supply of home made tomato sauce in the freezer as I recommended back in September.

1 lb/500g stewing lamb

1 onion

2 carrots

2 garlic cloves chopped

sprig of thyme

half pint/250g tomato sauce from your stash in the freezer, otherwise use passata

1 tin of butter beans

Brown the lamb in some olive oil, add the roughly chopped onions, garlic  and carrots, and continue to fry for a few minutes. Pour over the tomato sauce, add the thyme, season well and put in medium oven until the lamb is tender and falling away from the bone.Add a spot of water if it gets a bit dry.  Timing will depend on the cut, but allow about an hour for shoulder. Add the drained butter beans and return to the oven to heat through. Check seasoning and sprinkle generously with parsley before serving with a green veg, kale or brocolli perhaps. Once prepared it will sit happily in a low oven until you're ready to serve.

Breaking News - Jerusalem Artichokes are delicious!

Jerusalem Artichokes. I admit it, I was wrong. Jerusalem Artichoke soup is delicious. I hadn't bothered with it before because frankly I couldn't believe that something so unprepossessing could turn out so delicious. But thanks largely to my friends at Downsizer I have to admit that this is really lovely, easy, and cheap (well it is for me because I've got bucketfuls of them, as you may remember from this photo last week

Anyway, here's the recipe, should you find yourself with similar bucketfuls, or maybe just a few slightly cleaner specimens in your veg box, (they are, as James Martin always says, bang in season now)

large knob of butter

1 Onion chopped

3 pounds/1.5kg of Jerusalem Artichokes

2pints/1 litreof chicken stock

half pint/250ml  of milk

salt, pepper

grating of nutmeg

swirl of cream

Melt the butter in a frying pan

yes, I know you know what melting butter looks like, but I thought this picture looked rather delicious......

Anyway, add the chopped onion, and the peeled and roughly chopped artichokes and fry gently without browning for a few minutes.

Add the chicken stock, cover, and simmer until soft, I think it took about 20-30 minutes. Add the milk, then tip everything into the food processor, or blender, and blend until smooth. Return to saucepan, season with salt, pepper and a little nutmeg, and ladle into bowls and stir in a little cream, in a swirly cheffy sort of way. This is a lovely homespun soup, but good enough for a dinner party too. Do try it.

Reasons To Be Cheerful, Part 1

It never ceases to amaze me how soon new growth in the spring, like these lovely little snowdrops, can push through even when the ground is covered with six inches of snow, as it has been here for some two weeks.  I took this on the day the snow finally cleared, and it's la lovely reminder that even in the dark days of January, Spring will soon be on the way.

I also found this single little primrose shoot poking through the chilly undergrowth.

A Pile of Mud and Knobbles (Veg Garden Update)

Now this may look to you like a pile of mud and knobbles, (did I make that word up) but it is in fact part of my harvest of Jerusalem Artichokes. The toughest vegetable that the Good Lord ever created, there's a million of them in my veg patch, please come round and get some it you want as I seldom get round to eating any of them. My dad used to grow them on his allotment as  windbreak, and occasionally would peel one and give it to us to eat raw, which was ok-ish, but they were never thought of as gourmet treats. But in recent years around this time of year celebrity chefs and food writers produce vast column inches about the wonderful culinary joys of the Jerusalem Artichoke. But I'm afraid it escapes me - try as I may, I can never get past the slightly watery gluey thing that seems to go on with them. I must be doing something wrong, because as sure as eggs is eggs, Hugh will be delivering a recipe for an unmissable artichoke salad/soup/pie, in the Saturday Guardian in the very near future, and since I'm lucky enough to be going to River Cottage HQ on Tuesday for a Day of Meat Curing and Smoking I feel Ishould be making at least an effort to join in the enthusiasm.

Here's a picture of my hens having a look and you can clearly see that even they don't fancy them.

It was lovely to get out in the garden though today, now that the snow has melted at last. I let the chickens and ducks into the veg garden, as there's not much growing in there just now (I've netted the Purple Sprouting Brocolli), and they had a good dig around in the leaf mould and the mud, and clearly enjoyed themselves no end, and helped dispose of insects and pests for me into the bargain.

I'm very much looking forward to my day of Curing and Smoking,  at RCHQ down in Dorset - never been there before - I've done loads of courses over the years- Pig Keeping, Beginners Smallholding, Beekeeping, Sheep care, - I must be the best qualified farmer who hasn't got a farm ever. Never mind, at least I have my lovely garden, it could be a lot worse, I could be in a 4th floor flat in Droitwich. (Sorry if you live in Droitwich)

Treacle Pudding with Clotted Cream (and by the way will you marry me)

Really we should be on a diet by now, and working off the Christmas excesses and all that, but all this ice and snow is not conducive to salads, and "health foods". A girl need something to keep the cold out, other than a Damart thermal vest. So here we go with the Treacle Sponge. But definately lettuce tomorrow. No really.

Ingredients for 4 large or 6 small helpings (what am I talking about, who has a small helping of Treacle Sponge)
6oz/125g self raising flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
4oz/125g soft butter
4oz/125g sugar - half caster, half soft light brown
2 large eggs
golden syrup about half a standard jar or tin depending on how much you like

Whizz everything except the syrup in the food processor until blended. You may need a spot of milk to get a nice soft consistency.
Grease a 2 pint/1 litre pudding basin (preferably the plastic kind that comes with a snap on lid).

Pour a good amount of syrup into the bottom of the basin, the amount will depend on the shape of your basin, but you do want a good inch/couple of cm depth.

 Spoon your sponge mix lightly on top. Snap on your plastic lid, or if you've lost it like me, you will have to make a foil or greaseproof paper lid and tie it on with string in the old fashioned way. Fiddly, but still works fine. Place the pudding basin in a saucepan of boiling water, so that the water comes about half way up the side of the basin and simmer gently for an hour and a half or so. Put a lid on the saucepan so you don't turn the kitchen into a sauna, and keep an eye on the water level, topping it up occasionally from the kettle if it needs it. Timing isn't crucial, and you can leave it steaming until you're  ready. If you have an Aga you can just put it in the bottom oven and leave it there for hours, until you are ready to serve and it will come to no harm.

Turn your pudding out onto a deep dish and have more warmed syrup on hand to pour over. Serve with  clotted cream.

So few people cook old fashioned steamed puddings any more, that if you learn the really very slight art of cooking one, you will find yourself in the useful position of pleasing all of the people all of the time.Pretty well everyone loves treacle pudding, especially men.  Indeed, should you be hoping someone will ask you to marry them, this is probably the best encouragement you could give them and if it doesn't ellicit the diamond ring/one knee scenario, you probably need to move on, girlfriend.