Monday 29 February 2016

Beep, Beep, Fanny's Supermarket Sweep

Fanny was often somewhat shameless in her promotion, plugging and product placement on TV, in her newspaper columns, in her books and probably most notably throughout the partwork. Whether it was a careful but quick flash of the Lurpak wrapper she really didn't mean to show you while un-moulding the steamed christmas pudding, or the grapefruit knife that you really must have but was normally so hard to find in ordinary shops, she'd feature items in a recipe, in a picture and again on screen. And subtly let you know where to get them from. Surely she was in on the deal. Many bloggers do it today, and PR companies think they invented it recently.

Fanny Cradock Honey Nut & Date Triangles

I'd be rubbish at it, by Fanny's standards, as I like to feature products that I've bought, found and love. For Fanny though it seemed to be all part and parcel of the game. If she could convince you to purchase an item that you never really needed, to make something you were never really very likely to make again, she had won. We all love a gadget don't we, and, well, if Fanny was using it, it must've been the thing to have. After all, if you did as Fanny did, you were sure to be doing it right, the professional way.

Fanny Cradock Honey Nut & Date Triangles

Sometimes though she wasn't quite so subtle. To fill up a tin with goodies ready for Easter, Fanny suggests making her Honey, Nut and Date Triangles, or Petites Tranches au Noix. They are really just stuffed puff pastry sandwiches, baked. However, you clearly need something to make the perfect triangles of puff pastry, that you've bought in from your favourite supermarket. Fanny's suggestion is a 'wheel' contraption that you roll over the rolled out pastry and voilà, fourteen identical triangles. It is, Fanny tells us, particularly helpful if you happen to be making large quantities 'at speed'. Fanny shows you how, in a handy pic-strip. The wheel is coincidentally easily available (in person or by mail order) from Elizabeth Davids shop in London.

Fanny Cradock Honey Nut & Date Triangles Fanny Cradock Honey Nut & Date Triangles

I'm not making large quantities, nor am I concerned about speed, so I employ Fanny's second best option, of cutting them free-hand. My own idea of how to do it involves a pizza cutter. I do use my favourite pizza cutter from my local pizzeria, La Favorita, so perhaps I should cut a deal with them to promote it? I bought my puff pastry ready rolled from Sainsburys. Another opportunity missed. Fanny also loves Sainsburys apparently. The cream cheese she lists in the recipe is not any old cream cheese. It's Sainsbury's cream cheese. Perhaps Sainsbury's would not be so pleased with me though, as I bought my walnut pieces from Tesco. The dates came from my local fruit and veg shop, Tattie Shaws. The honey came from local store, Earthy. I told you I wasn't so good at this promotion malarky.

Fanny Cradock Honey Nut & Date Triangles

Fanny mixes the cream cheese, chopped dates, honey, orange juice (I used Sainsburys Taste the Difference which was surely the right thing to do?) and zest. In her dash round the promotional opportunities she omits the nuts from the recipe, but I mix them in anyway. Thanks heavens for the photos, so I know where they should be. They get sandwiched between my imperfect triangles, brushed with egg whites and sprinkled with cater sugar. From Tesco. Topped with a dried piece of banana. I can't remember where I bought them. Then simply baked. They are really tasty, the orange zest and cream cheese make a wonderful partnership. One of the best things Fanny has suggested I make actually. Sadly I do not have a pretty blue plate that is readily available from Fortnum and Mason to display them on. I have such a lot to learn from Fanny. I am such a bad blogger.

Fanny Cradock Honey Nut & Date Triangles

Monday 22 February 2016

What Colour Were The 1970's?

Brown. Everything was freakishly brown. Furniture was brown. Think of all those drab wooden sideboards and burnt-looking velour sofas that houses were so very full of. Our houses themselves were brown. With brown front doors. Wallpaper was brown. Sometimes it was more off-the-wall than on it with swirly patterns granted, but generally it was different shades of brown. Our clothes were brown. Our shoes were brown. We were all tanned. We liked it. Brown was where it was at. We fawned over it. We were happy with brown. Until someone paired it with another ludicrous colour of course.

Fanny Cradock Brown Meringue

Orange. We had outlandish orange curtains hanging in rooms to match the peculiar orange lampshades. Rugs were a range of far-out orange tones. Our kitchens were so orange we needed sunglasses to enter them. We had offbeat ornaments that were orange and maybe a bit space-aged. But orange still. And kooky. We matched them with brown. We embraced the eccentric, extraordinary orange and brown combinations in our homes, in our wardrobes and in our lives. Even our tans went orange. If it wasn't for orange the whole curious decade would just have been, well, brown.

Fanny Cradock Brown Meringue

Almost. Okay, Fanny did her best to banish the buff and beige, bringing every colour of the rainbow to the buffet table. But the table was probably brown, the table cloth would undoubtedly be brown and orange. The guests crowded round it would certainly be dressed head to foot in cocoa inspired patterns of chocolatey brown and zesty orange, with orange accessories that perhaps looked like they'd been fashioned from the space-age adornments scattered around the house. And dipped in extra brown. You get the idea.

Fanny Cradock Brown Meringue

Fanny decided to embrace the unavoidable brown-ness of the time. In celebration, she unveiled her Brown Meringue. She could've worked more on the name, but do remember how hip and happening it was to love brown. Today we want our meringues to be so glowingly white they match our overly-whitened teeth and pristine, shiny, clinical white homes. Not brown. In the 1970's Fanny replaced the white sugar in her meringue mix for the tawny brown stuff and whipped up a brown frenzy. If she could've got brown egg whites I'm sure she would've. That's how she rocked.

Fanny Cradock Brown Meringue

Bang on trend, she pairs it of course with... Orange. She replaces the milk in a custard with equal quantities of orange juice and water, using the otherwise abandoned egg yolks perfectly. A splash of orange blossom water adds a shade more orange. The brown meringue is baked on a sheet of rice paper for reasons unknown, but also why not. It emerges so fashionably brown, all it needs is a seventies swirl of the orange custard. And a whole mandarin orange plonked in the centre. With a bay leave decoration. And freshly released citrus segments to trim. It tastes wonderfully caramelly and orangey. It tastes like the 70's. There are no other descriptions. It's brown. It's orange. It is the 1970's.

Fanny Cradock Brown Meringue

Thursday 18 February 2016

Lacto Lenten Luncheon

Fanny wasn't a fan of Mrs Beeton. She mentions her often. Never in a good way. She says that the original Book of Household Management 'stuff' (she clearly can't bring herself to call it a 'cookbook') is all 'fiddle-faddle'. Fanny blames Mrs Beeton for so many English women failing. She gave all the wrong information. Fanny cannot imagine any professional chef in a professional kitchen wasting their time and money playing the farcical 'games' she outlined. After all, she never had time in her very short life to actually learn how to cook. The only evidence Fanny has seen that she cooked anything came from her sister who remarked that a cake she made when 8 years old 'was a sad failure and turned out like a biscuit'. In what seems to be the ultimate put down, Fanny asserts that Mrs Beeton 'couldn't even fry an egg'.

Fanny Cradock Vegetarian Buffet

For Fanny, egg-skills are the most important. Especially for lacto-vegetarians. Especially during Lent. Especially when preparing a buffet for lacto-vegetarian guests during Lent. Not only a time of exclusion, but also a time for frugalness. To confront any nonsense in readers minds that eggs may be an out-of-reach expense, Fanny tells us that she, as a private person, buys her eggs direct from the local farmer at 19p per dozen. Fanny reminds us that any member of the public can do precisely the same thing. If in any doubt, Fanny points out that an egg has the nutritional equivalency to over two ounces of meat, so surely we must accept more readily that 5p is better spent on three fresh eggs than on almost any other foodstuff.

Fanny Cradock Vegetarian Buffet

Fanny's point seems to be that the recipes for these lacto-vegetarian (she does love this description!) are good for the household too. As a result of spending prudently on ingredients, we should have more time to spend on cooking them. Apparently. So the less you spend, the more time you have. Great! Making a little go a long way demands more cooking time if what you make is to taste delicious. According to Fanny the only alternative is to cut down on both (and risk a nutritional crisis) and open a tin of something. This can never be a substitute for good cooking. Fanny does say that tins can be superb 'props or aids to good cookery', presumably just in case you happen to own her cookbook devoted to Cooking with Can and Pack in which she does exactly that.

Fanny Cradock Vegetarian Buffet

No tins here, this is fresh, locally purchased, farmer approved, lacto-vegetarian fare after all. Oh, except the tin of sweetcorn. She serves it on a bed of 'health' rice, which is brown. All lacto-vegetarians love a bit of brown health. Simply sparkle it up with a hard boiled egg and a dash of paprika. Just like her Mum used to make. The Mushroom and Tomato Bake is layers of mushrooms and tomatoes, chopped roughly, cooked together, then layered with breadcrumbs and milled hazelnuts, also cooked together in butter. With Marjoram in-between each layer. Lacto-Vegetarians, like plain old vegetarians today, love a salad. So Fanny whips up her special Banana, Walnut and Orange Salad of sliced bananas doused in honey and lemon juice, with scattered chopped dates and walnuts, garnished with orange segments. It brings all the lacto-vegetarians to Fanny's yard. Or buffet.

Fanny Cradock Vegetarian Buffet

To crown it all off, it has to be more eggs. Stuffed. Boil the economical yet nutritious eggs, peel and carefully slice the top off. Scoop out the yolk, carefully, mix with mayonnaise, ground almonds, grated cheese, a little tomato juice (for 'moistening' purposes), season and then, naturally, pipe it gloriously back into the hollowed out egg. Serve in egg cups stuffed with lettuce leaves. Poor old Mrs Beeton would never manage any of this, but thankfully for us with Fanny's help the buffet is a triumph. It all tastes good, even the Banana Salad. Fanny would never let us fail. Fanny would never let us present 'fiddle-faddle'. Thank heavens for Fanny!

Fanny Cradock Vegetarian Buffet

Monday 8 February 2016

Down and Out in London

When she wasn't encouraging us to squirt copious amounts of food colouring into every dish we were creating, Fanny Cradock was keen that we spent our time travelling around, soaking up as much culture as we could, and of course eating copious amounts of perfectly normally coloured food. Fanny wished of course that we did it in a very particular style - hers. I'm about to head off to London for a well deserved jaunt, and wondered how well her guide book of 1953 would hold up and help me to plan a suitably colourful trip?

Fanny Cradock in London

Fanny says her 'unique' book will ensure that I have a happy and satisfying visit to the capital city, which is just what I am after. The book serves up, apparently, history as a 'fruity background' to the main mission of aiding me to lunch and dine in London's many fine restaurants. Naturally Fanny and Johnnie are the only people suitably qualified to help me on this quest, combining their 'gastronomic knowledge, literary skill and insight' (not to mention modesty) into the average person's problems of what dishes and wines to order. The average person. That's me.

Fanny Cradock in London

Bon Viveur in London, compiled from various Daily Telegraph columns and articles from Fanny and Johnnie promises to give me the names of many restaurants, the prices of their dishes, detailed reports of the house specialities and even recipes which used at 'some' restaurants which I can introduce at home. So with a clarion call of 'Je ferai de mon possible' we are to be convinced that Fanny will indeed do her very best for us... Within limits. London of 1950 had changed beyond recognition from it's heyday of the late Victorian-Edwardian era as a 'gastronomes paradise'. Fanny notes that as a result of the two wars, much of the promised colour and fruity charm has been shed.

Fanny Cradock in London

In 1953, Fanny is stepping into a restaurant on our behalf and seeing it with quite different eyes from the times when she allegedly went for 'private and personal enjoyment'. Now it's all about us, the average people. Fanny notes her task is akin to the painting of the Forth Bridge - endless - in that chefs move about, restaurateurs change and management switch. Reading through the guide there are so many altered places that I wish I could visit - the 'luxury class' of the Five Hundred Club in Albemarle Street, or perhaps an open sandwich lunch in the Débutantes Bar in the Brief Encounter on Brompton Road. Oh I forgot, I'm average, not high class.

Fanny Cradock in London

I'll be staying on the South Bank. Fanny doesn't have recommendations for 'South'. Fanny recommends I eat at Whistlers Room Restaurant in the Tate Britain Gallery on Millbank. It's just across the river. Guess what, it's still there! I wonder if the unpretentious Mrs Adams is still feeding the hungry on 'good plain foodstuffs' - this is not a place for indulgent gastronomes - but Fanny recommends the soup. Will it still be hot and genuinely palatable? Will Kitty the star waitress still be adding a touch of extra character to the place with her watchful service? Will Chef Jasper still make his usual tour of the tables to enquire if all is well? Even for me, an everyday, average, lacking in colour person? Let's find out...

Fanny Cradock in London

Monday 1 February 2016

Quiche Me Quick

With the beginning of Lent looming later this week, Fanny Cradock is all set to rid meat, game and poultry from our diets. Oh. For some of us there is nothing to 'exclude' as we approach a period of practicing a 'little hopefully highly palatable austerity'. But hey, this means a whole partwork devoted to lenten food, and - wait for it - some special vegetarian recipes! Yahoo! She does say they are aimed at the 'less severe' lacto-vegetarians though, which perhaps clarifies her true feelings on the matter. Hang on though, before we get too excited, Fanny also warns us solemnly that this whole season of Lent can be wildly depressing gastronomically...

Fanny Cradock Cheese Quiche

In an attempt to cheer us up, Fanny introduces four recipes for cod which she describes as 'dull as cold mutton'. It was known in her family as 'divorce meat'. Fanny's father considered any housewife who slipped cold mutton onto the table 'unsupported and unadorned' was providing more than adequate grounds for divorce. We are left to wonder what he thought of cold mutton 'supported and adorned'. Fanny says the same may be fairly said about her cod dishes, so we'll skip merrily over them. Fanny is particularly personally and positively despising of frozen fish fillets. She seems to like vegetarians only slightly more.

Fanny Cradock Cheese Quiche

Her first suggestion is as equally palatable to her and her household - all devoted meat eaters she proudly tells us - as to her vegetarian guests. Perhaps she doesn't loath us all? Her first recipe idea is a classic one originally from Lorraine - Quiche, or Kiche - for which each local housewife has a recipe which they insist is better than their neighbours. Fanny does too. Her first vegetarian, lenten recipe contains bacon, which again perhaps displays her feelings towards both. I'll leave it out. Her first piece of respectful advice is to stick to a savoury version if serving it to someone actually from Lorraine. Who knew a sweet Quiche was even on the cards, certainly not those horrified luncheon guests who endured what Fanny herself calls a 'grim experience'.

Fanny Cradock Cheese Quiche

Fanny's upholds her ominous undertones as she readies the pastry case for the Quiche. She calls it 'lining paste' which conjures up thoughts of dismal wallpapering and not cheerfully wow-ing vegetarian guests. This wallpaper lining paste is known as Pâté à Foncer Ordinaire and has a lower fat to flour ratio (roughly one third/two thirds) and a much higher water content, than the standard shortcrust stuff we are familiar with. It's all chopped up with knives, rolled out and used to line a suitable square tin in the usual way though. Yes, square it must be.

Fanny Cradock Cheese Quiche

The pastry rolls out well. Fanny insists on blind baking with beans. If a raw pastry is used Fanny warns that the custard 'may go down and the pastry will come up in little humps and bubbles', so I'm not risking that. The filling is eggs, single cream (and/or top of the milk, every thrifty), Parmesan (or Parmesan-style for the 'more severe' than I in the vegetarian stakes) and a little seasoning. Poured into the case it is topped with thin slices of Gruyère and baked at two temperatures - first high for only five minutes then long and slow until set. This is Fannys key to success for custard which cuts creamily. The finished Quiche tastes yummily of yesteryear in all honesty, the lining paste is spectacularly crisp and flashes me straight back to childhood. Far from wildly depressing and grim, it is indeed a perfectly palatable beginning to Lenten. The wallpaper may still be ghastly, however, not everything from the 70's deserves a revival.

Fanny Cradock Cheese Quiche