January recipe: Stuffed cabbage leaves

Stuffed cabbage leaves

This recipe is loosely based on the classic Greek dish dolmas, stuffed vine leaves.  Vines, and by extension vine leaves, don’t tend to be a staple crop in Britain, although I daresay they are obtainable from specialist shops if you look hard enough.  However, the handsome dark green Savoy cabbages make a satisfactory wrapping for the filling.  This is a colourful, mildly spicy dish to cheer up a grey winter day, which is very convenient as Savoy cabbages are at their best in the middle of winter.  Here’s the recipe.

Stuffed cabbage leaves (serves 2)

Approximately 12 oz (approximately 350 g) Savoy cabbage

8 oz (approx 220 g) lamb mince or beef mince

Half an onion

1 oz long-grain rice

2 Tablespoons (2 x 15 ml spoon) chutney*

2 oz (approx 50 g) raisins

Half a 400g tin of chopped tomatoes

1 Tablespoon (1 x 15 ml spoon) Worcestershire sauce

1 teaspoon (1 x 5 ml spoon) paprika

2 teaspoons (2 x 5 ml spoon) cornflour

Cook the rice according to the instructions on the packet (or use leftover cooked rice).

Separate 8 large leaves from the cabbage, trying not to tear them (the odd rip doesn’t matter).  Cut out the hard base of the stalk from each leaf, leaving a V-shaped slot.

Blanch the cabbage leaves for 2 minutes in boiling water.  Drain, then leave to cool.

Shred the remaining cabbage finely.  Peel and chop the onion.

Fry the minced lamb or beef in olive oil over a medium heat until browned.

Add the onion and shredded cabbage, and fry gently for another few minutes until the vegetables are starting to soften and colour.

Remove from the heat. Stir in the cooked rice, chutney and raisins. Season with salt and pepper.

Divide the mixture between the 8 blanched cabbage leaves, and fold each leaf over the filling to make a parcel.

Put the parcels in a single layer in a casserole dish.

If the tomatoes are very coarse, or if you want a smooth sauce, liquidise the chopped tomatoes.  Stir in the Worcestershire sauce, paprika and cornflour.  Pour this over the cabbage parcels in the casserole.

Put a lid on the casserole and cook in a moderately hot oven at about 180 C for about 45 minutes, until the cabbage is tender and the sauce has thickened.

Serve with long-grain rice.

I don’t think this would freeze very well, although I’ve never tried.  

 

*Home-made tomato chutney works well in this dish

January recipe: Lamb and orange casserole

Lamb goes very well with the fruity fragrance of oranges in this rich and warming casserole, ideal for a cold winter evening.  You can make this either with lamb chops or with diced stewing lamb, according to taste and availability.  It goes very well with jacket potatoes, which can be cooked in the oven at the same time as the casserole.

Lamb and orange casserole (serves 4)

4 lamb chops*

1 onion

8 oz (approx 250 g) carrots, swede or other root vegetables

1 Tablespoon (1 x 15 ml spoon) plain flour

0.5 pint (approx 250 ml) stock or water

Juice and rind of 1 orange

2 teaspoons (2 x 5 ml spoons) tomato puree

2 teaspoons (2 x 5 ml spoons) dried rosemary or oregano

1 Tablespoon (1 x 15 ml spoon) Worcestershire sauce (optional)

Dumplings

4 oz (approx 125 g) self-raising flour

2 oz (approx 50 g) suet

1 teaspoon (1 x 5 ml spoon) dried rosemary or oregano

Juice and rind of 1 orange

Peel and chop the onion.

Peel and dice the root vegetables.

Fry the lamb chops in cooking oil in a heatproof casserole over a medium heat until browned.  Take them out of the casserole.

Add the chopped onion and vegetables and fry gently for a few minutes until starting to soften and colour.

Add the flour and stir so that it coats the vegetables.

Pour in the stock or water. Bring to the boil and stir until thickened.

Add the tomato puree, herbs, Worcestershire sauce (if using) and the juice and rind of the orange.  Season with salt and pepper.

Replace the lamb chops.

Cover the casserole and cook in a moderately hot oven at about 170 C for about one hour, while you make the dumplings.

To make the dumplings:

Mix the flour, suet and herbs in a small bowl.

Stir in the orange rind.

Season with salt and pepper.

Mix to a soft but not sticky dough with the orange juice.  If you have more orange juice than you need, stir the leftover juice into the casserole.  If you need more liquid, add a little water.

Divide the dumpling dough into 8 pieces and roll each into a ball.

Put the dumplings on top of the casserole, replace the lid, and carry on cooking at the same temperature for approximately another half an hour.

Serve with jacket potatoes and vegetables of your choice.

The casserole can be frozen, without the dumplings. 

*or approx 1 lb (approx 450 g) diced stewing lamb.  If using diced lamb, proceed as above except that you do not need to take the lamb out of the casserole while you fry the vegetables and make the sauce, just leave it in the whole time.

January recipe: Sticky toffee pudding

Sticky toffee pudding is rich, sweet and filling, very satisfying to eat on a cold winter day. There are many variations on the basic theme of a baked date sponge covered in a toffee or fudge sauce. My recipe uses black treacle*, which gives a dark colour to the sponge and sauce, and a slight bitterness to take the edge off the sweetness. You can keep the baked sponge for several days in an airtight tin, and then you only have to cut a slice and make the sauce for an instant pudding.

Sticky toffee pudding

Sponge (cuts into 10-12 slices)
4 oz (approx 100 g) dried dates, chopped
0.5 pint (approx 280 ml) water
2 Tablespoons (2 x 15 ml spoons) black treacle
1 teaspoon bicarbonate of soda
2 oz (approx 50 g) butter
4 oz (approx 100 g) dark brown soft sugar
1 egg
1 teaspoon (1 x 5 ml spoon) vanilla essence
1 teaspoon (1 x 5 ml spoon) baking powder
8 oz (approx 250 g) plain flour

Sauce (serves 6)
1 oz (approx 25 g) butter
3 oz (approx 75 g) dark brown soft sugar
0.25 pint (approx 140 ml) single cream
1 Tablespoon (1 x 15 ml spoon) black treacle

To make the sponge:
Grease and line a loaf tin.

Put the dates, water and treacle into a saucepan, and bring to the boil. Remove from the heat.

Cream the butter and sugar until fluffy.

Beat in the egg and vanilla essence.

Add the flour and baking powder, and mix well.

Sprinkle the bicarbonate of soda onto the date and treacle mixture, then stir into the cake mixture and mix well. It should form a thick batter.

Pour the batter into the greased and lined loaf tin and level the top.

Bake in a moderate oven, about 170 - 180 C, for about an hour, until the top is crisp and golden brown and a skewer comes out clean.

Cool on a wire rack. Cut into slices, and serve with toffee sauce (see below).

To make the toffee sauce:
Put the butter, sugar and cream into a small saucepan. Heat gently until the butter melts, and stir until the sugar dissolves. Stir in the treacle.

Pour over slices of the baked sponge (see above). Serve with vanilla ice cream or whipped cream if liked.


The baked sponge will keep in an airtight tin for several days, and can be frozen. The sauce will keep for a couple of days in the fridge.

*Similar to molasses.

January recipe: Beef and vegetable hot pot

This is a rich, warming winter casserole. You can make it with any combination of root vegetables, according to taste and availability.


It takes a long time to cook, but it doesn’t need much attention so you can do something else while it simmers away quietly in the oven.

If you don’t like pearl barley, you can simply miss it out (reduce the water by about a third if you do this, as the barley absorbs water).

Beef and vegetable hot pot (serves 4)

1 lb (approx 450 g) shin of beef, skirt of beef, stewing steak or braising steak
3 ox (approx 75 g) streaky bacon, smoked if possible
Half an onion
1.5 lb (approx 700 g) root vegetables, e.g. carrots, parsnips, swede, turnip
1 large clove garlic
1 Tablespoon (1 x 15 ml spoon) plain flour
1 pint (approx 550 ml) water
1 Tablespoon (1 x 15 ml spoon) tomato puree
1 Tablespoon (1 x 15 ml spoon) Worcestershire sauce
1 teaspoon (1 x 5 ml spoon) demerara sugar
1 teaspoon (1 x 5 ml spoon) dried rosemary or sage
2 oz (approx 50 g) pearl barley

Dumplings (makes 8)
4 oz (approx 125 g) self-raising flour
2 ox (approx 50 g) shredded suet
1 teaspoon (1 x 5 ml spoon) dried rosemary or sage, or other herbs of your choice

Chop the beef into approx 1 inch (approx 2 cm) cubes. Chop the bacon into small pieces.

Peel and chop the onion. Peel the vegetables and cut into pieces about half an inch (approx 1 cm) cubed.

Fry the beef and bacon in hot cooking oil in a heatproof casserole dish until browned.

Add the chopped onion and vegetables and fry gently until starting to colour. Peel and crush the garlic and add to the casserole.

Stir in the flour and mix well so that it coats the meat and vegetables. Pour in the water and bring to the boil, stirring as the sauce thickens.

Add the tomato puree, Worcestershire sauce, sugar, herbs and pearl barley. Season with salt and pepper. Mix well.

Remove from the heat, cover the casserole with a lid, and cook in a moderate oven at about 150 C for about 2 hours. You can cook it for longer if you like, anything up to 3 hours or so. Don’t try to cook it for a shorter time at a higher temperature. Stir from time to time and check that the barley hasn’t absorbed all the water. If it has, just add a bit more water – the sauce should be the consistency of thick gravy. I usually expect to check the casserole once or twice in 2 hours.

In the meantime, make the dumplings. Mix the flour, suet and herbs in a bowl and season with salt and pepper to taste. Add a few tablespoons of cold water to mix to a soft dough. If the dough is sticky, add a bit more flour, if it is floury and flaky, add a bit more water. Shape into eight balls about the size of a walnut, and add them to the casserole for the last 45 minutes or so of cooking time. (If you end up cooking the casserole for longer than you expected, the dumplings won’t mind a longer cooking time).

Serve with mashed potatoes, or jacket potatoes which you can cook in the oven at the same time as the casserole as they need about the same temperature and cooking time.

Can be frozen. Freeze without the dumplings.

January recipe: Date and Ginger Cake

Ginger is always warming, and this is a comforting cake for a cold winter day. It’s also easy to make and can conveniently share the oven with a slow-cooking winter casserole.















Date and Ginger Cake

2 oz (approx 50 g) stem ginger in syrup, or crystallised ginger
4 oz (approx 120 g) dried stoned dates
4 oz (approx 120 g) butter
4 Tablespoons (4 x 15 ml spoons) golden syrup*
2 Tablespoons (2 x 15 ml spoons) demerara sugar (or other brown sugar, e.g. dark muscovado)
4 oz (approx 120 g) wholemeal flour
4 oz (approx 120 g) plain flour
2 teaspoons (2 x 5 ml spoons) baking powder
2 teaspoons (2 x 5 ml spoons) ground ginger
1 teaspoon (1 x 5 ml spoon) ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon (1 x 5 ml spoon) bicarbonate of soda
2 Tablespoons (2 x 15 ml spoons) ground almonds (optional)
2 eggs, beaten
3 fl. oz (approx 85 ml) milk

Chop the stem ginger and dates into pieces about the size of a raisin (or whatever size pieces you like to find in your cake).

Melt the butter, sugar and syrup in a medium sized saucepan over a low heat. Stir until the sugar has dissolved, then remove from the heat.

Stir in the wholemeal flour, plain flour, baking powder, ground ginger, ground cinnamon, bicarbonate of soda and ground almonds (if using; I have found that you can miss the ground almonds out if you don’t like almonds). Mix thoroughly to a smooth paste.

Beat the eggs into the mixture, followed by the milk, and stir thoroughly to a smooth batter. Remember to keep scraping the mixture off the back of the spoon as you beat the eggs and milk in.

Stir in the chopped stem ginger and dates.

Pour into a greased and lined loaf tin or deep cake tin (about 6”, or about 15 cm, diameter is about the right size).

Bake in a moderate oven about 170 C for about 1 hour, until a skewer inserted into the middle of the cake comes out clean.

Turn out of the tin while warm and cool on a wire rack.

Keeps for about a week in an airtight tin, or can be frozen.

If you don’t like dates, you can use sultanas or raisins instead, or a mixture.


*I think the approximate equivalent in North America is light corn syrup

January recipe: steak and kidney pudding

In Britain, puddings aren’t always sweet, and although ‘pudding’ can be a synonym for ‘dessert’, it isn’t always. Steak and kidney pudding is a case in point. It’s a essentially a deep pie made with suet pastry and filled with chopped steak, kidney and onions in a thick gravy, cooked by steaming (or boiling) instead of by baking. The result is filling, warming, and somehow very reassuring in cold weather. It’s closely related to Bedfordshire Clangers, but it’s made in a deep basin instead of a roll and it doesn’t include fruit.

The cooking method derives from the custom of cooking a dish by tying it in a cloth and suspending it from the handle of a cauldron bubbling over the fire, which was an efficient way of cooking a solid object before the oven was invented or in households without an oven. Sweet puddings would have been cooked this way too, which is no doubt the origin of the modern steamed sponge puddings and Christmas pudding. And very probably the origin of the fruit in Bedfordshire Clangers, which by combining fruit and meat echoes some of the cooking habits of the Middle Ages. Mince pies originally contained meat as well as fruit. The separation between sweet and savoury is comparatively recent, only a century or so old.

Here’s my recipe:

Steak and kidney pudding

Suet pastry
5 oz (approx 125 g) self-raising flour
2.5 oz (approx 60 g) shredded suet

Filling
8 oz (approx 250 g) shin beef or stewing steak
1 lamb kidney
Half an onion
1 Tablespoon (1 x 15 ml spoon) plain flour
Approx 0.5 pint (approx 250 ml) stock
1 teaspoon (1 x 5 ml spoon) dried mixed herbs

Grease a pudding basin.
Mix the self-raising flour and suet in a bowl. Add sufficient cold water to form a soft but not sticky dough. If it is too sticky, add more flour. (If you know how to make dumplings, this is exactly the same).
Roll out on a floured work surface to a circle big enough to fit the pudding basin.
Cut approximately a quarter segment out of the circle. Line the pudding basin with the three-quarter part of the circle, damp the cut edges and seal them together. It’s very forgiving pastry, so mould it and push it around until it lines the basin. Any holes can be patched by damping the edges and pressing extra bits of pastry in to fill them. (If you have your own preferred method of lining a deep pudding basin, go ahead and use it. I’ve found the three-quarter circle works for me, as it folds into an approximate cone roughly the right shape for the basin).

Chop the steak into approximately 1” (approx 2 cm) cubes and chop the kidney into pieces about half that size.
Peel and chop the onion.
Fry the meat and onion in lard or cooking oil until the meat is browned.
Stir in the flour.
Pour in the stock, and bring to the boil to thicken. You can replace part or all of the stock with red wine or beer if you like.
Add the herbs, season to taste with salt and black pepper.
Pour the filling mixture into the lined pudding basin.
Add more stock (or wine or beer) if necessary. The liquid should almost cover the meat and onions.
Roll out the quarter-circle of pastry to a circle big enough to make a lid. Dampen the edges and seal the lid to the edges of the lining pastry.
Cover the pudding basin with tinfoil. If the pudding lid is near the top of the basin, put a pleat in the tinfoil so the pudding can expand. If the pudding lid is well down below the edge of the basin, you don’t need to pleat the tinfoil.
Steam for 2.5 to 3 hours, making sure the water in the pan never boils dry.

Serve with carrots, Brussels sprouts, cabbage or other vegetables of your choice.

I make this quantity for two people and with vegetables it makes a complete meal.

New Year

Holly berries. I couldn’t let the whole Christmas and New Year season pass without a picture of holly, could I?















Ivy berries. Not as pretty as holly, but invaluable if you’re a hungry bird in late winter















Winter tree


















Seedheads of wild clematis (Clematis vitalba), otherwise known as Old Man’s Beard













Chestnut buds, as fat and brown and sticky as Christmas dates.

Best wishes for the New Year to all of you.

January recipe: Seville orange tart

It’s the third week in January, and the Seville oranges are back in the shops again, all the more delightful for being available only three weeks of the year. Last year I posted on Seville orange marmalade and some of the stories associated with it.

But marmalade isn’t the only use for Seville oranges. Their wonderfully sharp and aromatic flavour makes them ideal for puddings as well. Here’s one:

Seville orange tart

For the pastry:
8 oz (approx 250 g) plain flour
3 oz (approx 100 g) icing sugar
4 oz (approx 125 g) butter
1 egg
Or you can use ready-made pastry if you prefer

For the filling:
2 oz (approx 50 g) butter
5 oz (approx 140 g) caster sugar
2 eggs
2 Seville oranges

To make the pastry:
Cream the butter and icing sugar until pale and fluffy.
Beat in the egg.
Beat in the flour to form a dough.
This quantity of pastry is enough for three 7-inch tart cases, so divide the dough into three and freeze what you don’t need immediately. (It’s the same pastry that I use for strawberry cheesecake).
Wrap one portion in cling film or foil and refrigerate for about an hour.
Roll out the pastry on a floured work surface, and line a greased tart tin about 7 inches (approximately 18 cm) in diameter. Don’t try to roll it out too thin. If the pastry breaks or tears when you lift it into the tin, don’t worry too much. Press the broken edges back together like Plasticene and you’ll probably get away with it.
Bake the empty tart case in a hot oven (about 200 C) for about 15 minutes until golden brown and set. You can go through the palaver of blind-baking with the pastry weighted down with beans or marbles if you like, but I never bother.

To make the filling:
Put the butter, sugar and orange rind in a bowl over a pan of simmering water, and stir until the butter has melted and the sugar dissolved.
Beat in the eggs one at a time.
Remove the bowl from the heat, and beat in the juice of both oranges.
Pour into the cooked tart case.
Bake at about 180 C for about 15 minutes until the filling is set.
Serve hot or cold, with whipped cream if liked.

I generally expect to get about 6 slices out of this recipe, but it depends how large a slice you like.
The cooked tart will keep for 2-3 days at room temperature, if it gets the chance.

January recipe: Seville orange marmalade

Marmalade attracts myths. According to a Radio 4 documentary last year, the growers who ship Seville oranges to Britain by the ton every January are baffled as to what the British can possibly want with all these oranges that are too bitter to eat, and are convinced that they are used in a secret process for manufacturing gunpowder.

Another oft-quoted myth is that marmalade was invented by a French court cook trying to produce something to tempt the palate of the young Mary Queen of Scots during one of her childhood illnesses, and derives from the French “Marie est malade”. Antonia Fraser dismisses this charming story as a fable in her biography of Mary, saying that the word was in existence much earlier and is derived from the Portuguese word for quince, ‘marmelos’. The Concise Oxford Dictionary agrees with her, as does Wikipedia. And apparently Samuel Pepys’s wife was making Marmelat of Quince in 1663.

At some point (and I haven’t tried to find out when), the bitter quince was replaced by bitter Seville oranges, and Seville marmalade has graced British breakfast tables ever since. The story goes that Seville marmalade was invented by a Dundee grocer’s wife, Janet Keillor, in 1797. A storm-battered ship took refuge in Dundee harbour, and its captain was eager to sell his perishable cargo of oranges for whatever price he could get before they decayed. Ever one for a bargain, a canny local grocer named James Keillor bought the lot at a knock-down price, reckoning that he’d have no difficulty selling cheap oranges in Dundee in the middle of winter. Unfortunately, when his wife unpacked the first crate it turned out that he wasn’t quite as canny as he thought. He’d forgotten to check what variety the oranges were, and they were Seville oranges, famously inedible (try eating one, and you will see what I mean).

But Janet was a true Scots lass and not about to see good money go to waste. Undaunted, she decided to turn the unsaleable oranges into marmalade. The crestfallen James was despatched back to the harbour to buy a shipload of sugar, while Janet rounded up all her female acquaintance and set them to work. Marmalade comes in two basic varieties, the Silver Shred type (elegant slivers of citrus zest suspended in a transparent gel) that requires painstaking removal of the pith, and the thick-cut type that bungs in the entire fruit, pith and all, minus only the pips. Even with the entire membership of the Dundee chapter of the Women's Institute on hand, processing a shipload of oranges would be a tall order, so Janet sensibly chose a thick-cut recipe to minimise the work. The resulting marmalade was sold through their grocery, found its way to London, became a resounding success, and Keiller’s* Dundee Marmalade has been made ever since.

This delightful tale is just as much a myth as the Mary Queen of Scots connection (see Wikipedia for the small grain of truth in it), but never mind. I always think of Janet Keillor, mythical or not, when I’m surrounded by chopped oranges, sugar, jars and bubbling pans in the middle weekend of January, and reflect that at least I haven’t got a whole shipload to do! Here’s the recipe:

Thick-cut Seville orange marmalade

1 lb (approx 0.5 kg) Seville oranges
1 lemon
2 lb (approx 1 kg) sugar
2 pints water

Slice the oranges and cut each slice into chunks of the size you would be happy to find on your toast in the morning, removing the pips as you go. (Removing the pips is fiddly so a food processor doesn’t speed this step up much, even if you've got one. I recommend you find something to listen to on the radio or a CD and turn it on before you start).

Do the same with the lemon.

Tie the pips into muslin bags. It doesn't have to be muslin; I sometimes use pieces of old cotton sheet or cotton handkerchief. The key requirements are: cotton or linen cloth (synthetics may not react well to the high temperatures); white or cream (some dyes are soluble, and you probably don’t want psychedelic colours); clean. I use pieces about 3-4 inches square, heap the pips in the middle, and tie the diagonally opposite corners together in pairs to make a Dick Whittington-style bundle.

Put the chopped fruit, the water and the bags of pips into a large bowl and stand overnight.

Next morning, put the contents of the bowl in a large saucepan, bring to the boil, and simmer gently until the peel is soft and the volume is about halved (approx. 1 to 1.5 hours).

Add the sugar and a small piece of butter to the pan.

Bring to the boil, and boil vigorously for about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. (Don’t lean over the pan, and keep any children out of the way. It may spit and I swear that boiling marmalade was the inspiration for napalm).

Test for set by dropping a teaspoon of the marmalade mix onto a cold plate.** It will form a pool (if it forms a bead, your marmalade is a little over-cooked – take it off the heat immediately and go to the next step). Let the pool cool down (30 seconds or so), and prod it with your finger. If the surface doesn’t wrinkle, boil the marmalade for 2 minutes more and test again. If the surface wrinkles, the marmalade is done. Take it off the heat.

Fish out the bags of pips and discard them.

Pour into clean jars (the easiest way to do this is to pour the marmalade into a large heatproof jug, then use the jug to fill the jars. I recommend standing the jars on newspaper to make it easier to clean up any spills).

Cover the jars immediately. I use cling film and then a screw-top lid, but you can use paraffin wax, waxed paper, or whatever other method you choose. The important thing is to get an airtight seal while the marmalade is still hot. It’s hot enough to be effectively sterile when it’s just finished cooking, so if you seal it at that stage it will stay sterile and you can expect it to keep for years. If you let it cool down before you seal it, though, there’s a chance that mould spores will have floated in and the marmalade may spoil. (Very few bacteria can survive the high sugar concentration, but moulds are more resistant).

Let the jars cool, label them, and store in a cupboard until needed. It doesn’t need to mature, so you can start eating it the following morning, and it will keep for three years or more (as I know from having once found a forgotten jar at the back of a cupboard).

This quantity should make about four jars of marmalade. Seville oranges are typically available (in Britain; no idea about the rest of the world) during the last three weeks of January.


* Don’t ask me why there are two different spellings.

** If you have a sugar thermometer, I am told that it is useful in finding the setting point. I don’t own one, so I use this old-fashioned method of testing for set.