honey – a tablespoon
To make the frozen yoghurt, pour the smoothies into the drum of your ice-cream machine and churn till almost frozen. Scoop out and into a plastic freezer box, then keep in the freezer till you need it.
Cut the rhubarb into short lengths about the size of a wine cork. Lay them in a shallow stainless steel or glass baking dish, squeeze over the orange juice and drizzle with the honey. Bake for twenty-five minutes at 200°C/Gas 6, occasionally spooning the juices over the fruit. The rhubarb is done when the stalks are tender enough to crush between your fingers. Leave to cool a little.
Divide the warm rhubarb between four dishes, then place a couple of scoops of frozen yoghurt on each, though it looks rather elegant served in separate bowls.
Enough for 4
Note
To make the frozen yoghurt without a machine, pour the smoothies into a plastic box and freeze for a couple of hours till a thick layer of ice crystals forms around the edge. Whisk the frozen edges into the middle of the mixture, then freeze again for an hour or so. Repeat, again beating the edges into the middle. Now leave the mixture to freeze. The whole process will take about four hours, depending on the temperature of your freezer. Try to catch the ice just before it freezes solid. The texture will be less smooth than if you use a machine.
January 9
Rain and
an old-
fashioned
cake
This is the grey, endless drizzle that Britain is regularly accused of having, yet in truth we rarely see, even in the depths of winter. It’s the sort of day on which to light the fire, turn on the radio and bake a cake. Once the smell of baking fills the house, I find the rain suddenly matters a good deal less, if at all. I make a decent ginger cake, a love of which seems to run in our family. My Dad adored them, along with Battenburg, or ‘window cake’ as he called it, which I leave to the experts. I take mine in the afternoon with a pot of green tea.
Double ginger cake
I am rather proud of this cake. Lightly crisp on top and with a good, open texture, it is light, moist and delicately gingery. It will keep for a week or so wrapped in paper and foil.
self-raising flour – 250g
ground ginger – 2 level teaspoons
ground cinnamon – half a teaspoon
bicarbonate of soda – a level teaspoon
a pinch of salt
golden syrup – 200g
syrup from the ginger jar – 2 tablespoons
butter – 125g
stem ginger in syrup – 3 lumps, about 55g
sultanas – 2 heaped tablespoons
dark muscovado sugar – 125g
large eggs – 2
milk – 240ml
You will need a square cake tin measuring approximately 20–22cm, lined on the bottom with baking parchment or greaseproof paper.
Set the oven at 180C/Gas 4. Sift the flour with the ginger, cinnamon, bicarbonate of soda and salt. Put the golden and ginger syrups and the butter into a small saucepan and warm over a low heat. Dice the ginger finely, then add it to the pan with the sultanas and sugar. Let the mixture bubble gently for a minute, giving it the occasional stir to stop the fruit sticking on the bottom.
Break the eggs into a bowl, pour in the milk and beat gently to break up the egg and mix it into the milk. Remove the butter and sugar mixture from the heat and pour into the flour, stirring smoothly and firmly with a large metal spoon. Mix in the milk and eggs. The mixture should be sloppy, with no trace of flour.
Scoop the mixture into the lined cake tin and bake for thirty-five or forty minutes, until a skewer inserted in the centre of the cake comes out clean. Unless you are serving it warm, leave the cake in its tin to cool, then tip it out on to a sheet of greaseproof paper. Wrap it up in foil and, if you can, leave it to mature for a day or two before eating.
Enough for 8
January 11
Onion soup
without
tears
I do love the classic onion soup, simmered for hours in a deep iron pot, but if I’m honest I hate making it. Onions make me cry at the best of times, but slicing enough for an entire pan of soup is more than I can handle, so this method where you roast the halved onions first solves all that. But there is more to this soup than convenience for those easily brought to tears; the roasting of the onions gives a sweet, caramel depth to the broth and the onions turn silky, slithery and soft. I could also add that the smell of onions baking in butter is a rather more attractive option than the pong of boiled onions wafting through the house.
onions – 4 medium
butter – 40g
a glass of white wine
vegetable stock – 1.5 litres
a small French loaf
grated Gruyère, Emmental or other good melting cheese – 150g
Set the oven at 200°C/Gas 6. Peel the onions and cut them in half from tip to root, then lay them in a roasting tin and add the butter, salt and some pepper. Roast until they are tender and soft, and toasted dark brown here and there. You might have to turn them now and again.
Cut the onions into thick segments. Put them in a saucepan with the wine and bring to the boil. Let the wine bubble until it almost disappears (you just want the flavour, not the alcohol), then pour in the stock. Bring to the boil and simmer for about twenty minutes.
Just before you want to serve the soup, make the cheese croûtes. Cut the loaf into thin slices and toast lightly on one side under a hot grill. Turn them over and sprinkle with the grated cheese. Get the soup hot, ladle it into bowls and float the cheese croûtes on top. Place the bowls under a hot grill and leave until the cheese melts. Eat immediately, whilst the cheese is still stringy and molten.
Enough for 4
January 12
Potatoes
and cheese
for a cold
night
I rather like those dishes that can be eaten as either a side dish or a main course depending on what else you might be eating. They slot neatly into my ‘very useful’ category. This
