Quincey, pudding examiner

It's cold outside, bleak, wintry. The pile of quinces on the kitchen counter hasn't moved for a week and some of them are on the turn.
Unlike the pumpkins still on the windowsill these needed to be used quickly. 
A version of a Tarte Tatin seemed the solution, as it could well be for many of life's problems.

Peel and core the quince, (about six or so went into this).
I used the peelings and cores to make a syrup: sugar, water, a cinnamon stick, a pinch of saffron-- then poach them in water for about 15 minutes, until tender, but still firm to the touch. I then mixed them in about 4 tablespoons of cinnamon sugar left over from the 'skillingsboller' Maya and I made on Sunday which Noah then ate most of.

Then, proceed in the way you would if making an apple Tatin, that is to say melt and caramelise some sugar in a heavy, wide, oven-proof pan or tatin dish and layer the quince down. Cook for a few minutes before covering with the puff pastry* and gently tucking it in around the edges as if putting it to bed (you can also use shortcrust if you prefer, but you will be wrong).

Cook in a fairly hot oven (200c) for about 25 minutes, or until the pastry is puffed and golden. Leave to cool for a while before turning out onto a plate, sprinkling over the hazelnuts and giving a drizzle of syrup if you have any. Serve with creme fraiche.


*Some frozen puff pastry (homemade is obviously better, but I didn't fancy it today, and I had a roll to use up) defrosted and rolled a little thinner is fine for this and makes the whole thing a really quick yet impressive pudding.

Tarte Bordaloue

Clearing out the kitchen this week, before I put everything back in the new cupboards, I found some antique yeast, a vintage packet of baking powder and many other long expired historic foodstuffs.There were baking trays which had developed their own culture and civilisations and substances that NASA may well be interested in. I'm sure the black treacle stuck to the top of the shelf is really from a Tudor roof and certainly would have been something the children could have used in a science experiment.Now we are approaching the end of the year and December has its icy tentacles wrapped around my neck like a frozen octopus disguised as a scarf, we need to start getting into the spirit of things. The children are tired, as they always are by the end of term -- if their toast is a little too dark there are howling tears -- and I'm ready to wear a festive jumper and eat mince pies for supper.But before we go full steam(ed pudding) ahead into Christmas, and while a little of me is still mentally in Paris, I've made these Tartes Bordaloues. They are named after the bakery named after the Parisian street named after the Jesuit preacher where they were invented. It's a simple poached pear and frangipane in a short and sweet, buttery, crisp pastry. Easy to make and impressive looking, it's as if they've come straight from the patisserie. And with a strong, black coffee they make a perfect elevenses. Forget the partridge in the pear tree, just go for the tart rich in pear, see.IngredientsFor the pate sucrée200g plain flour130g butter40g icing sugar1 egg, beatenFor the frangipane115g ground almonds115g icing sugar115g melted butter1tsp vanilla pasteFor the pears4 small and firm rocha pears or similar. Soft ones will collapse to mush1 vanilla pod, split lengthwise800ml water (enough to cover the pears)300g sugarMethodPoach the pears in the vanilla, water and sugar until al dente then leave to cool.Make the pastry by mixing the flour and icing sugar together then stir in the ground almonds.Add the butter and mix well. Add the beaten egg and bring together to a dough. Lay in between two sheets of baking paper and roll flat. Put in the freezer for 15 minutes or in the fridge for half an hour.Make the frangipane by beating all the ingredients together until you have a paste, then put into a piping bag. Set aside.Heat the oven to 180c.Remove the pears from the syrup and slice.Line 4 small tart tins with the pastry. (With removable bases)Pipe in the frangipane then layer the pears into each.Bake for about 30 minutes, until golden.Leave to cool to room temperature and serve.This weekSaw:Glengarry Glen Ross. Christian Slater at the Playhouse Theatre. Excellent, and swearyBraquo on Netflix, gritty Parisian cops from about six years ago.Listened:Maya's Christmas carol concert at school. So, so sweet. She was very excited, saying it was "the BEST day ever."Johnny Hallyday. French radio playing nothing but his songs. Sounded the same as usual to be honest.Eat:Flatbreads with and Sicilian oregano and harissa slow-roast lamb leg . Piled with houmous, guacamole, olives and chilli oil. Sort of Moroccan tacos.Lahore Karahi fenugreek chicken as we sat surrounded by our house still in boxes.I made a sausage, pea and tomato risotto for the children which they hoovered up. As did I while I was dishing it up.Bratwurst hotter than the sun at Herman ze German on the way to the theatre. Thank God I made it through the whole play.Read:Fred Vargas' Quand Sort la recluse. Still enjoying this French thriller.Viz Christmas issue. Obviously a little levity is good for the soul. 

Chocolate brioche au levain

There are weeks, like the one just gone where I can barely remember the slightest thing of interest happening in day to day life.Most noteworthy was hurriedly inflating an air bed on the pavement outside my in-laws' house fifteen minutes after the children were due to be asleep on it in our bedroom as there were guests needing theirs. I had to do it outside, in case you were wondering, because the air pump  attaches to the car's cigarette lighter. It wasn't because I love the great outdoors.I immediately punctured it on the thorns leading up the path to the house. This is what comes of doing things last minute. We've had this mattress ten years without incident, using it perhaps three times over the decade. The one time we really need it a prick burst it.I've barely cooked this week at home –by home I mean the in-laws house as we continue our stay away from the dust sheets and collapsed lost tomb of the Incas our place resembles– which has made a welcome change. It is nice to have an occasional break from the kitchen, if a little odd. As much as I love feeding people, I like the control I have over something and the feeling I get when making other people happy. Filming every day this week I haven't been around much for my family; I've felt my absence keenly.Still, the food cooked for me by mother-in-law Sue has been delicious. Highlights were the mushroom risotto and an incredibly irresistible pineapple pudding from a Jane Grigson recipe that over the course of three helpings with ice cream overcame my avoidance of sugar during the week. I have a feeling that in a fortnight we will have extended waists as well as a redecorated home.But I have cooked a couple of things. A simple ten second pasta sauce for the children on Saturday (blitz together one tin of tomatoes, 1 clove of garlic, olive oil, a pinch of oregano, a dash of tomato purée and a pinch of salt then cook quickly) which everyone tucked into except me. I had bratwurst onto which I spooned the remains of the salsa verde from the other night. Its zing and freshness had faded like a green velvet curtain left in the sun, it's lost grandeur just a reminder of better times. And because everyone else seems to hate bratwurst in my family I got all the sausages.On Saturday night, as we all sat down to watch 'Strictly', the children's eyes kept open with matchsticks, zombified with tiredness yet unwilling to admit defeat to the enemy of sleep, we ate bowls of haricot beans slowly stewed with chorizo, sofrito, a dash of stock and chicken thighs first browned in the paprika infused oil then left to slowly simmer in the mix until tender. Comforting and very tasty.Here's a recipe the children helped me to make the weekend before we shipped out. The sourdough starter and longer ferment gives the brioche stronger structure and deeper flavour than the standard brioche so it stands up a little more to serious abuse from pouring over a load of hot chocolate sauce, if that's your kind of thing. It is mine. At least when I'm not avoiding sugar...Ingredients2tbsp starter200ml lukewarm water plus 50ml350g flour plus extra for kneading15g fresh yeast (or 7g dried)1 egg, beaten60ml milk, lukewarm80g butter80g golden caster sugarAnother 150g flourA generous pinch of saltChocolate buttons, I used a mix of dark, milk and whiteMethodAdd the water to the starter and stir well until dispersed. Stir in the 350g flour and mix well. Leave to rest for about half an hour.Add the salt and the 50ml water and knead together until mixed. The dough should be quite wet and sticky.Add a little more flour and start to knead on the bench, folding and pushing it until it starts to become smooth and elastic. Add flour a little at a time until it becomes tacky rather than sticky and you can shape it into a nice firm but soft ball of dough.Leave in the bowl, covered with a cloth for four hours.Add the yeast to the milk and stir to dissolve. Pour onto the rested dough and add the butter, sugar and egg to this. Mix into the dough. It will be quite sloppy. Add the 150g flour and knead well for another five minutes, adding a little more flour if the dough gets too sticky. Don't make it too dry and firm though, it needs to be on the wet side of tacky.While kneading, add a little more flour if you need, just so it doesn't stick to the bench too much. It will become sticky but silky enough to handle and shape into a ball.Leave to rise for a further two hours then knock back and shape into eight balls.Put the balls in two lines in two brioche or loaf tins. Brush the top with beaten egg mixed with a splash of milk. Dust the top with sugar crystals and a sprinkle of grated chocolate.  Leave to prove for another half an hour and bake at gas 7 (190c) for 25 mins until golden and cooked through. Don't have the heat on too high and blacken them as I did. Leave to cool until just warm before serving.

Fika time

The children are never far from an excuse to eat sweet things. So it seemed that a few days in a country where a national pastime is to share coffee and cinnamon buns would be perfect. And while Noah and I have now developed an unhealthy addiction to kanelbullar (it's possible we had more than one each per day, and I made a huge batch when we got home) it seems that Maya and Bee have left Sweden with successful aversion therapy. Their loss and our gain.Extended city breaks, and that's what last week was, are great but pretty exhausting for little legs. I'm not sure they were to thrilled traipsing round the photography museum, although they loved the view from the cafe as we had a classic lunch of prawns, rye bread, pickles and the like.There were days where the temperature reached 38c, where the light seemed clearer, sharper with a freshness born in the northern skies. Then there were days when it seemed like the four Norsemen of the apocalypse were in charge of the weather. And on one of those days, after we had soddenly trudged through the grey streets to the temporary food market the rain became too much and we needed a quick fika fix. Blood sugar levels were low, the grumpiness scale was high and the warm and inviting café had one spare table in the corner. And this is where Maya found her new love for raspberry shortbread.Demand has been high since then, and to be honest, I'm more than happy to make them. They take about twenty minutes and are so much nicer than jam tarts and if I dare say it, an improvement on shortbread itself. Even Noah, who's in love with his best friend Ruby's Scottish Grandmother's neighbours shortbread agrees.I'm not sure if they do things differently with Swedish shortbread, I didn't ask. But this recipe is standard shortbread and is delicious. (Although I use unsalted butter and season it with vanilla salt) I'd be tempted to make double next time. And as for the cinnamon buns I made, they freeze really well, so come Saturday morning, they'll be on the table for breakfast.Ingredients60g unsalted butter, soft100g golden caster sugar200g plain flour (I used strong white in this case, but you can use either)A pinch of vanilla salt (I use Singing Dog)Raspberry jam to fillMethodGet a small child to mix together the ingredients (apart from the jam) until they are crumbly and soft and come together in a dough when you press it.Half fill fairy cake moulds with the mixture, make a little indentation with your thumb in each and spoon in some jam.Bake in a medium to hot oven for 12 or so minutes, until they are starting to colour a little, but not much.Leave to cool until you can leave it no longer and dust with icing sugar.

Dangerous liaison

I did hot yoga this week. The only space remaining in the room was right under one of the heaters. After losing two stone in one hour and having to rearrange my body parts back to normal, I was starving.If I could summon the strength, I knew at home I had frozen puff pastry and a bowl full of beautiful, ripe tomatoes that were thinking about going on the turn if I left them lingering on the windowsill any longer.Like the banana bread I made for the children during the week, sometimes things that are just past their best are perfect to use in another way. And these tomatoes are a perfect example. They were lovely to start with, but slightly overripe, they were even lovelier, bursting and juicy, a deep, rich red inside.As always, if you have great ingredients, you have great food with hardly any effort.This works equally well with thyme, but I think tarragon is a much underused herb and in my opinion turns this dish from delicious to outstanding. Even if Bee didn't quite think it was as amazing as I did.Ingredients1 sheet of ready-rolled puff pastryLoads of ripe tomatoes such as cuore di bue, oxheart, beef, a few cherry, and so onFor the glaze and liaison:3 eggs, beaten1tbsp thick double cream300ml milk (or a mix of milk and cream)1tbsp chopped fresh tarragon, although dried works well tooA pinch of herb salt to season (or Maldon)Black pepperMethodGrease a 19cm tart tin and line it with the pastry.Line and fill the case with baking beans or rice and bake blind at 200c for 15 minutes.Remove the beans and lining and prick the pastry all over with a fork.Brush the pastry with some of the egg all over the inside to seal it and and reduce the heat to 180c.Bake for another 10 minutes or so until golden.Slice the tomatoes and fill the case with them.Mix the eggs, cream and milk together until you have a thin batter, stir in the tarragon and season well.Pour into the tart case, give another twist of pepper and bake for about 40 minutes until set, but with a little wobble. You may need to turn the tart halfway through to bake the pastry evenly if you have a gas oven like I do. In any case, keep an eye on it.And make sure it's level, otherwise it'll set lopsidedly.Remove from the oven when cooked and leave to cool a little. It's far superior when served warm, so is best made just before lunch.

Scone with the wind

Maya's off school ill today. And somehow, come 9.30 this morning, she has made what medical science would term a miraculous recovery. I've never seen someone less ill.So there was nothing for it but to make a batch of scones using the buttermilk I had leftover from  some homemade butter as a way to entertain and feed both of us.Looking after Maya is enough to build up an appetite that Babette would struggle to cater for, so after breakfast we started these to be sure they were ready for that terrible mid-morning point where the feebly underfed among us could be catered for.We made enough to feed the entire East Grinstead Women's Institute (had they been passing) and put the homemade butter to good use. The remainder of my mother in law's delicious jam was soon demolished and having left some scones on the plate for when Noah gets back from school this afternoon, still suspicious of his little sister's day off, we both needed a little lie down. Sadly, due to the sugar rush, this didn't happen and I found myself knee-deep in Play-Doh.This recipe makes a lot, but they freeze well once cooked. Halve it if you fancy just making a few. The buttermilk makes them so light and fluffy (use normal milk if you don't have any ) and they are so easy to make, even a sick child can do it.Ingredients400g self-raising flour (although I use plain flour and add 2tsp baking powder per 150g)2tsp baking powder (yes, a little extra)100g chilled butter, cubed100g golden caster sugar2 eggs, beaten280ml buttermilkA pinch of saltMethodHeat the oven to 180c/gas 7 and line a baking sheet with parchmentMix the flour (sifted into the mixing bowl), baking sugar and butter until it becomes breadcrumb-like. I use a pastry blender which is most excellent, but you can use your fingertips.Stir in the sugar and salt until well mixed.Mix together the buttermilk and beaten egg and pour most of in with the flour, keeping some back to glaze the tops.Knead quickly together to form a soft and fairly moist dough, roll out to 3cm thick and using a mini round pastry cutter (fluted or not, up to you) cut the scones.Glaze the top of each and bake in the oven for about 15 minutes, or until they are turning golden on top. Remove, leave to cool, split and serve with butter and jam. Not clotted cream, not whipped cream, butter.

Hand-raised lamb, potato and spinach pie.

Since my father's inexplicable and treacherous switching of allegiance from Newcastle Untied to Reading FC, he now has a cup of tea and a Waitrose balti pie every half time at the game. Although if my mum is reading this it's a kale, quinoa and beetroot salad with a superfood turmeric smoothie he enjoys.Now while I will never condone such turncoat behaviour, I have to say that the pie served there is a triumph on a cold Tuesday evening while you're sat watching a nil-nil draw among the opposition supporters trying not to shout encouragement to the Toon.This recipe is inspired by the football pie and uses leftover slow-roast lamb and spinach and potato curry encased in a hand-raised hot crust pastry. It's delicious hot or cold and will feed you and your neighbours well. I served mine with a jar of Encona sauce adulterated piccalilli (bought, I don't have the enthusiasm to make my own, which to be honest would sit at the back of the fridge -getting me into trouble with Bee- untouched for about a year).IngredientsBecause this uses leftovers for the filling (see recipe links), I'm just going give you the pastry and jelly ingredients and instructions. It was if memory serves, about 800g of the lamb and a good few ladlefuls of the potato curry. Just stuff it full of meat and potato and pour in the jelly as directed. If you're making this from scratch, you could substitute the lamb leftovers for cubed lamb, spiced similarly but cooked gently with some liquid in a casserole dish for only an hour or two.To make the crust you will need:600g flour225g lard175ml  waterA large pinch of salt1 egg, beatenFor the jelly you will need:5 gelatine leaves250ml lamb or vegetable stock1tbsp garam masalaMethodHeat the oven to 190c/Gas 7.Make the jelly by soaking the gelatine in cold water then draining and pouring in the hot stock and whisking until they dissolve. Set aside.Melt the lard in a saucepan with the water and quickly pour it into a bowl with the salt and flour, mixing well until combined.Oil a 20cm removable bottom pie tin or cake tin and press the filling in until the bottom and edges are well lined. Fill with the filling, gently roll out the pastry top and crimp on to the pie.Make a hole in the centre and pour in the jelly then brush the top with beaten egg.Bake in the oven for one hour or until the pastry is golden brown and crisp.Leave to cool a bit before removing and serving.

Simple Pleasures

Garlic grilled lobster, 24 hour slow-roast pork, smoked salmon scrambled eggs, roast chicken. The list of snacks the children are asking me for each evening they get back from after school club is becoming a joke. And now, they are demanding I just whip them up a tarte Tatin.*They already have a strong attachment to certain dishes, and as they grow up these meals will be remembered and recreated with, I hope, the same comforting happiness I attach to my childhood meals from my mum and grandparents. Most people love their mum's roast chicken, or their Granny's apple crumble. Although in my case I've developed a love for frozen chocolate gateaux wafted with the aroma of Player's Navy Cut cigarettes. It's a funny thing, nostalgia.I don't think they will talk fondly of Daddy's lark's wing soufflé with basil foam, compressed finger lime and watermelon (Nb.) but will probably look fondly on the roasts, bolognese, crumbles, 'taco day', korma with fluffy rice and soothing dhal and the simple home cooking we all crave as adults.The classics are classic for a reason. And generally survive because of their simplicity. That doesn't necessarily mean they're all completely easy to make. A beurre blanc or Hollandaise can easily split, a risotto can become as thick and stodgy as Donald Trump and a salmon steak can be as tough as a shoe if you don't pay attention. But the pleasure these simple dishes give is as joyful as a walk on a misty autumn morning or reading a book by the fire on a cold night.And so to the tarte Tatin. Or, if you prefer, the tarte Solognote. Traditionally made with apples it's the French comfort food par excellence. I also love making it with pears, but may cast my net as wide as mirabelle plums, apricots and even banana for a laugh. It also works brilliantly with shallots for a savoury version. Make sure you use a good pan that is suitable for the hob and oven. I use the incomparable prospector pan from Netherton Foundry, a thing of great beauty.This time, I made my own puff pastry from scratch. It's a wonderful thing to do and the difference is sublime. It's very easy, really, it just takes a little time so do it on a weekend, make plenty and freeze it. I'm not going to give a recipe here for it, but be prepared to use  a whole block of butter. You'll also need a dedicated spot in the kitchen, it needs rolling, folding and chilling about seven times.Failing that, buy some all butter ready-made puff pastry. You can't be as smug, but it will still give a very good result. I used a mix of Bramley and Braeburn apples this time, but fully Braeburned is usually how I roll. I also sprinkled a little thyme into the mix but that's up to you. Whatever you choose to do, this is a dish of most excellent comfort.Ingredients1 Braeburn apple, peeled, cored and cut into wedges3 Bramley apples, as aboveA good handful or two of unrefined golden caster sugarA splodge of butterEnough rolled out puff pastry to cover the top of the pan with an overhang to tuck inA pinch of thyme if you likeMethodGet the oven nice and hot. About gas mark 8 or 220c.Heat the sugar in the pan until it melts and starts to turn to a soft caramel. Add the butter and neatly layer in the apples. Cook for a minute or two then add the thyme if using and layer the pastry over the top, tucking it in around the apples edges.Transfer to the oven and cook for about twenty minutes, until the pastry is risen and golden.Remove from the oven and carefully turn upside down onto a plate. Leave for a minute before removing the pan and serve hot or warm. Or eat it cold from the fridge just before bed when no-one's looking.*Not true. They normally ask for a yoghurt or banana or the occasional biscuit. We haven't raised Veruca Salt and her brother here.

Everything's Rosy

I have a vague, dusty memory somewhere of my mum making coconut macaroons. Specifically, the rice paper underneath and the wonder that you could actually eat it.They weren't the delicate Ladurée type, but larger, more like a soft coconut biscuit. They were delicious.I haven't had them for years, and while I was making batch after batch of pink and white macarons for a shoot, I decided to polish the memory and make some of my own.They are a lot more forgiving than the delicate egg white and sugar version, the coconut helps hold the mix together and allows it to keep its shape while it rises. If you're lucky, you should get the prized 'feet', but don't be disheartened if not, they still taste great. They may take just a little practice, but once you get it, you get it.Use rice paper on the base if you like, and feel free to sandwich them together with a chocolate ganache, orange blossom buttercream or something like that. I like the hint of rose with these.Leave them for 24 hours to mature if you can and be warned, they're very moreish. Ingredients:2 egg whites2tbsp caster sugar60g ground almonds100g icing sugarDessicated coconutDried rose petalsMethodWhisk the egg whites until they form stiff peaks then whisk in the caster sugar until glossy.Sieve the icing sugar and almond together into a bowl then gently fold into the egg whites until you have a smooth, batter-like mixture. Stir in a few tablespoons of the coconut and a pinch of some crumbled rose petals, put into a piping bag and pipe four centimetre circles onto a baking sheet lined with greaseproof paper. Whack the tray on the bench to force out any air bubbles. This should prevent them cracking as they rise.Leave to rest for about 30 minutes, until they are no longer sticky. This will make them rise rather than spread.Heat the oven to 150c and bake the macaroons for ten minutes. Leave to cool then gently peel off the paper and store for 24 hours in an airtight container to improve the texture.Sprinkle over the remaining rose petals and serve with cardamom coffee.

Fig and goat’s cheese tart with onions, tomatoes and honey

When I was at my parents’ last weekend for my dad’s birthday, I wanted to contribute something to the lunch, and brought in the figs I happened to have left over from the day before. I started first thing in the morning by caramelising some onions over a very low heat, until they turned a sweet golden brown. Nearer to lunchtime, a quick assembly of the onion, figs, goat’s cheese and tomato created a simple and pretty puff pastry tart. I didn’t, but you could add some crisped parma ham at the end to give it a little extra texture and saltiness.Serves: 6-8 as a starterPrep time: 25 minsCooking time: 1 hour for the onions, plus 25 mins for the restIngredients1 sheet of ready-rolled puff pastry4 white onions, thinly sliced, though red would work well too1 tsp sugar1 thyme sprig8 figs, quartered150g crumbly goat’s cheese8 cherry tomatoes1 tbsp poppy seeds1 tbsp sesame seeds1 tbsp honeyOlive oilLemon zest2 tsp balsamic vinegar, thickened slightly in a hot pan and left to coolA handful of lamb’s lettuce to garnishSalt and pepper to seasonMethod

1. Heat a frying pan over a medium heat and add some olive oil, the onions, thyme and a little salt and sugar. Stir occasionally and cook until they start to become translucent. Turn the heat down and cover with a lid. Check occasionally, stirring to make sure they don’t stick or burn. Cook for 45-50 minutes or until they are golden brown, sweet and rich.
2. Nearer to lunchtime, heat the oven to 180°C and roll the pastry onto a baking sheet. Prick the middle with a fork so it doesn’t rise too much, and score a 1cm border all the way around. Cook for 15-20 minutes then remove from the oven and spread the onions over it. Arrange the figs, goat’s cheese and tomatoes on top, sprinkle with the seeds, and drizzle with the oil, honey, balsamic and lemon zest.
3. Season well and when cooled a little, top with the lamb’s lettuce.

How to food style it

1. The pastry sheet really is a blank canvas, and with this tart the ingredients do all the work for you. Purple figs against pure whites, golden olive oil and green leaves are going to work, almost however you throw them down. Do try to build in balanced layers, making sure that every section of the tart has a good mix of the ingredients.
2. Finally, drizzle with oil and seeds to unify the surface and scatter leaves gently across, taking care to not hide the rest of the ingredients.