I’m still ovenless, so improvisation is still the name of the game here, with this gloriously crunchy and chewy granola you can make in the microwave!
I’ve used gluten-free oats and coconut oil to make it both gluten and dairy free, but you could easily substitute ordinary oats and butter.
You can customise the recipe by adding in your own choice of dried fruit after the granola has cooled. I recommend going for tart/sharp fruits to contrast with the sweet and crunchy oats and nuts.
You can also easily customise this recipe if you’re thinking of making edible gifts this Christmas. In addition to varying the fruit and nuts, you could also sprinkle some spice over the finished mixture such as cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice, mixed spice, etc.
250g gluten-free oats
60g coconut ribbons
120g pumpkin seeds
120g sunflower seeds
120g pecans – chopped
250g runny honey
110g coconut oil
110g dark Muscovado sugar
To add after cooling
chopped, dried apricot
- Tip the oats into a large, dry pan and stir over medium heat for 5-10 minutes until lightly toasted.
- Transfer the oats to a large bowl and add the coconut, seeds, nuts and salt. Stir thoroughly.
- Put the sugar, coconut oil and honey into a pan and heat gently until the coconut oil has melted.
- Pour the warm mixture over the oat mixture and stir well to coat.
- Pour half the oat mixture onto a piece of baking parchment and microwave on High for 2 minutes.
- Stir the mix, then microwave on High for a further 2 minutes. Remove and set aside to cool.
- Repeat with the other half of the mixture.
- When the mixture has cooled completely, transfer the granola to a large bowl and break up into clumps.
- Add in dried fruit to taste and mix thoroughly.
- Store in a sealed container. If the mixture is sticky, store in the fridge.
So, my oven died. The main one. I have two, but the top one is even deader. After that went, I was able to limp along for a few weeks making toast with only one of the grill elements working, but then that conked out. With the main oven now gone, I am oven-less. On the plus side, I now have somewhere to dry metalware without it cluttering up the worktop.
Replacing the oven was more challenging than kitchen appliance websites wold have you believe.
Next day delivery? Sure! Not a problem. Relax. We can have your new oven with you tomorrow – just pick a delivery slot.
Oh, you want it connected? *sharp intake of breath*
Wellllll…….that’s going to be a while.
I was initially fretting over what was going to happen with the blog, with no oven. Then I reminded myself that Stuff™ happens and it’s not the end of the world. I have a working ( for now) gas hob, so rather than do the whole wailing/gnashing of teeth/rending of clothes at our oven-less-ness, for the forseeable future we’re going to be looking at stove-top recipes instead.
With all the frosty weather of late, this chilli is as fine a place to start as any.
It’s a bit of a deviation from the traditional, but in a very delicious way. I found a recipe that sounded nice, I decided to make it, I didn’t have several of the ingredients so I improvised with what I did have, and Voila, Chilli!
Guinness & Chocolate Chilli
This makes a large batch. Depending on your appetite, probably 6-8 adult portions. This recipe has no beans, but you can always add some to make it stretch further, or even just because you like them. I suggest freezing it without the beans and adding them only when preparing it for a meal.
For minimal washing up, choose a pan large enough to accommodate all the ingredents and it’ll be the only one you need.
250g smoked bacon – diced small
600g good quality pork sausages – I used Black Farmer – skins removed.
700g lean cubed beef
3 onions – peeled and roughly chopped
5 cloves garlic – peeled
1 tsp red pepper flakes
2tsp ground cumin
1tbs ground coriander
2tsp hot, smoked paprika
2 x 330ml bottles Guinness
400ml carton of pureed tomatoes
400ml tin of chopped tomatoes
2tbs Worcestershire Sauce
1 x Knorr beef stock pot ‘blob’
75g plain, dark chocolate – 60% cocoa
- Fry the bacon in a hot, dry casserole or large frying pan until the edges start to brown. No additional fat is necessary.
- Lift out the cooked bacon and set aside.
- Cook the sausagemeat in the same pan. Break it up into smaller pieces and stir briskly until it is browned.
- Lift out the cooked sausagemeat and set aside.
- Cook the beef in the same pan until browned on all sides.
- Blitz the garlic and onions in a food processor and add to the pan with the beef.
- Cook the onion mixture with the beef until the onion becomes translucent.
- Add the rest of the ingredients and the cooked bacon and sausage.
- Bring to a boil, cover, and reduce heat to a simmer.
- Cook until the beef is tender – 1.5 to 2 hours.
- Taste, and season to your own liking.
- Enjoy over rice with a blob of sour cream.
- Portion out and freeze remainders.
This recipe is just right for warming the cockles of your heart either after an invigorating walk or standing around a crackling bonfire.
It is a peasant dish, originating in Savoie, the region of the French Alps and is of a similar origin to Cholera Pie, in that it is composed of store-cupboard staples. Don’t be fooled into thinking that it is in any way a dull dish – it is packed with flavour and quite satisfying enough for a main meal, served alongside a crisp salad. Whilst this incarnation of the dish has only been around since the 1980s, it is actually derived from a much older regional recipe called La péla. In the older, vegetarian version, the unpeeled, raw potatoes are cubed and pan-fried in oil. Onions are added and when these turn golden brown, slices of reblochon are laid over the top. The dish is served when the cheese has melted.
There are lots of Tartiflette recipes online, many of which veer dangerously close to being a variation of either Dauphinois Potatoes or a potato fondue, neither of which are authentic. In this recipe, which comes from a little French book of Grandmothers’ recipes, the flecks of bacon and onion and the rich, melted cheese just coat the potatoes without overpowering or drowning them in too much liquid.
Speaking of potatoes, allow me to recommend a very special variety which is both my absolute favourite and absolutely perfect for this recipe. Grab them if you can find them: Pink Fir Apple Potatoes.
Similar in appearance to fingerling/Anya potatoes, but with a distinctive pink blush to their skins, they have the unique quality of being a slightly floury, waxy variety with such a delicious flavour, you can eat them on their own. By which I don’t mean ‘on their own with some butter, salt and pepper’, I mean, literally, with nothing else – they taste that good.
If you’re unable to find any Pink Fir Apple, then Anya are an acceptable substitute.
The other main ingredient is Reblochon cheese. This is a soft, rinded cheese with quite a pungent flavour that melts beautifully – a little goes a long way! It is available in UK supermarkets either as a small (10cm) whole cheese or in portions of half of a larger (15cm) cheese.
You can assemble this recipe and heat through immediately, or make ahead and pop it in the oven when you need it. It takes less than 30 minutes to warm through.
This recipe will serve four, or three if very hungry. Actually, it’ll serve one if you’re ravenous, but I think it’s best to draw a veil over that particular mental image.
800g Pink Fir apple or Anya potatoes
150g smoked bacon lardons
2 medium (apple-sized) onions, chopped fine
125ml reduced fat creme fraiche
1 reblochon cheese, 200-250g
coarse-ground black pepper
chopped parsley to garnish
- Bring a pan of water to the boil.
- Wash the potatoes and then steam them in their skins over the boiling water for 15 minutes. Set aside.
- Put the bacon and onion into a saucepan and cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until the onion is translucent and starting to caramelise.
- Remove from the heat and stir in the creme fraiche.
- Cut the reblochon cheese into fat matchsticks.
- Cut the potatoes into 2cm slices.
- Butter an ovenproof dish.
- Layer the ingredients: 1/3 of the potatoes, 1/3 of the bacon mixture, 1/3 of the cheese, pepper.
- Repeat 3 times until the ingredients have all been used .
- Cover tightly with foil and set aside until needed.
- Preheat the oven to 200°C, 180°C Fan.
- Put your dish into the oven with its foil covering and bake for 20 minutes.
- Remove foil and bake for up to 10 minutes more, if necessary, to crisp the top.
- Sprinkle with the parsley and serve with a fresh salad.
I’ve decided to go all autumnal this week with this comforting, root vegetable tart. It was inspired by a recipe from 1604 for parsnip pie.
It can make the basis of a light lunch or be served as an accompaniment to a main meal.
Its simple flavours are enriched by generous use of butter, with which both carrots and parsnips become glorious. And by generous, I mean about 50g, less than two ounces in old money, so hardly extravagent either budget or health-wise.
And yes, I’ve hopped onto the current ‘spiral tart’ craze to provide the impressive appearance, but I would argue that it is only a development of the apple rose tart, so neeners!
Like the apple rose tart, and unlike most of the current crop of spiral tarts, this tart also has a filling beneath the decorative vegetable ribbons – the remains of the vegetables carved up for the decoration are steamed and then mashed together with lashings of butter and pepper. They give the tart both substance and richness.
I don’t usually mention cooking equipment, mostly because my kitchen is too small to have much of anything, but I heartily recommend this kind of saucepan set:
The top two tiers are steamer pans, over a regular saucepan. You can cook all the side dishes for a Sunday lunch in this – potatoes in the bottom and up to four vegetables in the steamer baskets – at the same time, on one burner/ring on the stove, removing the baskets from the stack as the contents are done. I use mine daily.
Other vegetables you might like to try with this recipe: beetroot, turnip, swede, butternut squash, courgette.
Carrot and Parsnip Tart
1 x 20cm partially blind-baked shortcrust pastry tart shell
5 large parsnips
5 large carrots
salt & pepper
- Peel the carrots and parsnips, then cut into ribbons. I find a Y-shaped peeler is best for this.
- Cook the ribbons in a steamer basket over boiling water for 5 minutes. Set aside to cool.
- Chop the remains of the vegetables into cubes and steam over the boiling water until tender. The parsnips will probably require more cooking than the carrots, so have them in separate steamer baskets so you can remove them when done. Even though they will be mashed, you don’t want them mushy.
- Mash the cooked vegetables together. Don’t be too thorough with your mashing – it’s nice to be able to see flecks of both vegetables in the mix, and it gives a mottled, almost marbling effect. Add 30g of the butter, and salt and pepper to taste. Set aside to cool.
- When cold, spoon the mashed vegetables into the tart shell and smooth over.
- Arrange the ribbons of vegetables in alternating circles on top. You can begin in the middle or on the edges of the tart.
- Preheat the oven to 180°C, 160°C Fan.
- Melt the remaining butter and brush lightly over the top of the vegetable ribbons.
- Bake for 20 minutes, then cover lightly with a foil tent to prevent the vegetable ribbons from burning, and bake for a further 10 minutes.
- Cool in the tin for 10 mintes before removing and serving.
Bread is a curious topic to go a-hunting in the recipe archives because there are relatively so few recipes. Considering how central it was for such a large part of the population, the proportion of recorded recipes is surprisingly low.
The reason for this might be similar to that often cited as being behind Marco Polo’s failure to mention paper money in his account of travels in China: familiarity. It is a theory that Polo was so familiar with its usage after his many years in the country, and since his memoirs were written so long after his return, he completely forgot the surprise and wonder that the concept paper money would have for his readers. Perhaps the ability to make bread was so fundamental, so ingrained, few thought to write down the recipes since it was a skill everyone possessed.
It was also, however, a specialised craft, requiring both skill and equipment to produce on a large-scale, not to mention the unsociable hours and back-breaking work mixing huge quantities of dough without machinery. As such, as hard, manual labour, it was firmly in the province of the labouring classes, however skilled.
The more well-to-do, whose recipes have survived in household manuscript books, seem to have been partial to French bread, and it has been interesting to note the numbers of recipes for French bread consistently exceeding those for anything English. A large proportion of them are variations on this recipe, using egg whites as part of the liquid component.
I chose this 1703 recipe because of its simplicity – other recipes use whole eggs/butter/milk/cream, and I wanted to see whether the egg-whites had a noticeable effect on the flavour and texture of the loaf without any other distractions. The answer is yes – it is certainly different to a bread made without egg-whites. There’s no way to tell whether this is a genuine approximation of the French bread of the time, but I suspect that it wouldn’t have been too far removed from the sourdough bread enjoying a resurgence today.
Traditional sourdough, baked in a wood-fired oven, is a wonderful thing – insanely crusty with a great ‘chew’. It’s not to everyone’s tastes, though – which is where this loaf might gain favour. After baking, the crisp crust softens as it cools, making it easy to slice without the dangers of crust fragments ricocheting off at alarming speeds that comes with cutting a traditional sourdough. The crumb is open and springy with enough of a chew to make it very satisfying. From the photo above, it would appear that the centre of the loaf actually has a more open texture than the edges. It can be relished spread with just a little butter – and how long is it since you can say you honestly enjoyed a slice of white bread and butter?
I’ve obviously scaled this recipe down from the original and have made just one change: salt. True to my own code of conduct when working with old recipes, I did bake it ‘as written’ in the first instance, and while it had the great crust and texture described above, the flavour was lacking. Finally, I find it amusing to note that 300 years after it was jotted down, this recipe still takes just 30 minutes to bake.
18th Century English French Bread
450g strong white bread flour
1 sachet fast-action yeast
50ml egg-white whisked with 300ml warm water
Additional warm water (maybe)
- Mix the flour, yeast and salt in a bowl.
- Whisk together the eggwhites and the warm water and add to the dry ingredients.
- Mix thoroughly, adding more water if required (unlikely), to form a rather soft dough.
- Knead for 10 minutes.
- Cover lightly with plastic and set in a warm place to rise for 1 hour. If your kitchen is on the cool side, you can turn the oven to 160°C, 140°C Fan for 2 minutes, then switch it off and put in your dough to prove.
- Tip out the risen dough and pat gently to deflate.
- Shape the dough into a smooth ball and transfer to a greased 1kg loaf tin. The dough should half-fill the tin. If you’d prefer a taller loaf, use a smaller or longer shape.
- Set aside to rise for 30 minutes. On cold days I put the loaf into the small top oven while the main oven below warms up.
- Preheat the oven to 200°C, 180°C Fan.
- Bake for 30 minutes, turning the loaf around after 20 minutes to help colour it evenly.
- Cool on a wire rack.
- Slice when cold.
A French-themed post this week, but not a mountain of patisserie froth – instead I’ve gorn all savoury!
Prowling round the French brocantes (posh car boot sales), I’ve always got an eye out for second-hand cookery books and this year I found a great little paperback entitled Vosges Grannies Recipes (I paraphrase) – regional recipes from the mountains in eastern France, near the German border.
The booklet has lots of simple and comforting dishes, including this one, which I decided to include not only as a delicious, make-ahead meal, but also as a blueprint recipe for having up your sleeve or – more usefully – in your freezer.
I especially like this recipe because it isn’t rich. Too often a gratin dish is swimming in oil from fistfuls of cheese or cream. This is altogether much lighter and can easily be adapted to a variety of fillings, including vegetarian. It also doesn’t require a trolleyload of expensive ingredients, yet it’s packed with flavour, and is very simple to bring together.
The Anatomy of a Gratin
Using this recipe as an example, there is a bottom layer of lightly steamed leeks, followed by a tangy tomato and bacon layer, topped with a white sauce sprinkled with cheese. The tomato layer is bright from the fresh tomatoes, bold with the favour of herbs and tangy with bacon. All of the component ingredients can be prepared beforehand, then either hauled out of the fridge and assembled and baked, or assembled and frozen until required.
Imagine the joy of getting home of an evening knowing you’re just 30 minutes away from a delicious home-made meal that requires – literally – one minute’s preparation: stick your defrosted gratin in the oven, turn it on, go have a shower or read the paper, open a bag of salad, cut a slice of crusty bread and Bam! Supper is served!
It doesn’t have to be leeks – other options for the base vegetable are diced swede, turnip, carrots, parsnips) or a mixture of all of these), potatoes, celeriac, cabbage (Savoy, white, red, mixture), broccoli, cauliflower, sprouts – you get the idea.
If you’re vegetarian, you can substitute blanched samphire (its deliciously salty) for the bacon in the tomato sauce – add it whilst assembling your dish to keep some of its crunch.
Top with white sauce or for a gluten-free option, use low-fat creme fraiche.
Sprinkle with a cheese of your choice. Choose Comté or Gruyere for melty goodness, Grana Padano or Parmesan for punchy flavour. Whichever you choose, you don’t need a lot. People think a gratin is all about the cheese, and it’s not. The gratin in the photo had just 30g of Comté on the top, which was more than enough. The cheese is a garnish, if that. A gratin is about a crunchy topping. You can substitute breadcrumbs for the cheese, or a mixture of half breadcrumbs, half grana padano.
If you don’t have a stack of gratin dishes – who does? That’s my one-and-only in the photo – the supermarkets sell packs of aluminium foil dishes with cardboard tops, perfect for freezing. No washing up, either! These can also be used to heat the defrosted dish up in the oven. You wouldn’t be able to defrost them in the microwave, but being in a solid block they would be easy to decant into something suitable.
This recipe will make 4 portions of gratin. You can easily double or treble the quantities and make a stash of meals for the freezer.
Leek and Bacon Gratin
4 large leeks
200g smoked bacon lardons, or dice a large piece of smoked bacon or samphire
1 onion, finely diced
1 clove garlic – sliced thinly
4 tomatoes – cut into 1cm thick matchsticks
2 bay leaves
1tsp dried thyme or 2tsp fresh leaves stripped from the stalks
salt and pepper to taste
25g unsalted butter
25g plain flour
salt and pepper
120g grated cheese, or breadcrumbs, or a mixture of both
- Bring a pan of water to the boil.
- Wash and slice the leeks into 2cm slices.
- Put the sliced leeks into a steamer pan and cook over the simmering water for 8 minutes. You can blanch them IN the water, but they do take on a lot of liquid this way, and you run the risk of your dish becoming waterlogged.
- Set aside to cool.
- Put the bacon into a pan and heat gently. When the fat has begun to run, add the onion, garlic, tomatoes, bay leaf and thyme.
- Cover, reduce the heat and allow to simmer for 30 minutes, stirring occasionally.
- Remove the lid for the last 5 minutes to allow most of the moisture to evaporate
- Taste, then season with salt and pepper. Discard the bay leaves.
- Set aside to cool.
- Put the butter, flour and milk into a pan and whisk gently over a low heat until it comes to the boil.
- Turn the heat down to a simmer and allow to bubble gently for 5 minutes to ‘cook out’ the flour.
- Season generously with salt and pepper.
- If not using immediately, cover with cling film so that it touches the surface of the sauce and set aside.
- Divide your components equally into the number of dishes you plan on using.
- In each dish, put a layer of steamed leeks – or cooked vegetable of your choice – in the bottom.
- Spoon over a layer of the tomato bacon sauce. Sprinkle your blanched samphire if using.
- Pour over a thin layer of white sauce to cover and sprinkle with your topping.
- Put your cold/defrosted dish into the oven.
- Turn the heat to 180°C/160°C Fan.
- Bake for 20-25 minutes if the portion-size is a single serving, 25-30 minutes if larger.
- When done, the cheese will have melted and browned and the sauce bubbling.
- Serve with a salad and crusty bread for mopping.
Sometimes the best-tasting food is also the simplest. This recipe was yet another from one of my many dusty W.I.pamphlets from the mid 20th century. It was so brief it barely qualified as a paragraph, let alone a recipe, so I’ve added some detail below to help things along. In essence, you can count the number of ingredients in this pie on one hand: pastry, egg, bacon, seasoning. The pie in the picture above also contains diced tomato, which I thought would add freshness; it did to a certain extent, but not to the degree I was hoping, and in fact, the ‘plain’ bacon and egg pie was tastier. Alas, my cross-section photo for this pie (see below) wasn’t as visually arresting as the one above, so I decided to lure you with the picture above, then set the record straight. You can choose whichever version appeals most.
Also, I’ve mentioned them before, but I just LOVE my small cake/tart tins I found at my local The Range (4 x 10cm diameter pans for £2.50). They have a small lip on the side, which makes them great for tarts or, in this case, for firmly attaching the pastry lids of pies. This is not a paid endorsement – I just think they are a bargain and am sharing.
You can be as pro-active or as lazy as you like with these pies – make everything from scratch or buy it in if you’re pressed for time. Personally, I like to hover, metaphorically, between the two: make the pastry for the base, but buy a sheet of ready rolled puff pastry for the top, onna count of life too short etc, etc. The cornflour shortcrust is dry and crisp, and the buttery, flaky, puff pastry is both delicious and a fantastic contrast. Once the pans are lined, sprinkle over a little cooked bacon, crack in a whole egg and add the lid and you’re done!
OK, yes, you should add a sprinkling of fresh parsley too.
And pepper. Of course pepper.
Well OBVIOUSLY crimping the edges is a good idea.
And yes, egg-yolk wash will give both colour and shine.
I’ll come in again.
Amongst our weaponry are such diverse elements as….
Oops! Wrong sketch.
Once the pans are lined, sprinkle over a little cooked bacon and some fresh parsley, season with black pepper, crack in a whole egg, a little more parsley and pepper, add the lid, crimp the pastry edges, wash over with beaten egg and you’re DONE!
The quantities are up to you and however many you’re catering for. The suggestions below are for 4 individual pies. Any excess pastry, of either sort, can be frozen for later, as can the cooked pies, for up to a month.
Bacon and Egg Pies
1 batch cornflour shortcrust – scroll down on this page
1 roll puff pastry
100g lean bacon
4 large eggs
4-6 tablespoons of chopped, fresh parsley
coarse-ground black pepper
4 tomatoes – skinned, de-seeded and diced finely – optional
1 large yolk – for glazing
- Pre-heat the oven to 200°C/180°C Fan.
- Roll out the shortcrust pastry to a thickness of 5mm.
- Grease and line your tart tins with the shortcrust pastry, making sure to ease the pastry into the bottom edge of the pan, not stretch it. Leave excess pastry hanging over the sides of the tin and chill in the fridge until required.
- Chop the bacon into small dice and cook until just done. No browning. Drain on kitchen roll.
- Remove pies from fridge.
- Scatter the bacon in the bottom of the pies.
- Add a sprinkling of chopped parsley and a little back pepper. No need for salt, as the bacon is salty enough. Add the tomatoes if using.
- Crack an egg into each pie. If you want the yolk to be dead centre, you could clear a space amongst the bacon, but it’s not really necessary.
- Add more parsley and black pepper.
- Cut four squares of puff pastry, large enough to cover the pies.
- Brush the rims of the pies with water then lay over the puff pastry squares.
- Press firmly around the edges, then trim the excess pastry with a sharp knife.
- Crimp the edges of the pies for a decorative effect.
- Whisk the yolk with a tablespoon of water and brush the pie tops liberally.
- Cut three or four small vent holes, NOT in the middle – you don’t want to break the yolk inside.
- Bake for 15-20 minutes until the top is puffed and golden and the underside crisp.
- Enjoy warm.
 NOBODY expects the Spanish Inquisition! Least of all my husband who read all of the above with a blank expression then said “I don’t get it.” *sigh*