Bijou Sprew with a Hue

When Fanny Cradock starts a recipe 'First, dear Members, do not use Asparagus for this Asparagus soup' I no longer bat an eyelid. With Fanny, you really do learn to expect the never-in-your-life unexpected. Normally she delivers, and then some. Things that look like something else entirely, things that taste like nothing you'd ever thought of and things might've been better if less thought had been put into them. However, no asparagus in your asparagus soup? Fanny, what are you thinking?

Well, it seems that she's not quite as barmy as I first assume. Fanny feels that asparagus is to expensive to be used in soup, too good to be blended up and too wasteful to consign to a bowl. Instead, she wants to use 'sprew'. I haven't a clue what are sprew, do you? Fanny comes to the rescue - they are, according to her, young, thin shoots of asparagus. Google corrects my attempts to search further - did I mean sprue? No I meant sprew. It seems that Fanny's spelling is at odds with Google, but I am sure she would still argue that she was correct and a mere search engine was mistaken.

So, the sprew are the thin, green, first growths of the crop, normally taken out to encourage the proper stuff to grow stronger and should be available early, should be far, far cheaper and should be bulging with flavour. Well, after all the kerfuffle I couldn't find any. Thanks to the 'wonders' of globalisation however the supermarkets are full of asparagus out of season specially flown in from Mexico. Oh dear. Would Fanny say 'First, dear Members, do not use Mexican imported Asparagus for this Asparagus soup?'

Fanny's soups are always made in long-forgotten ways, and I love rediscovering them. Fanny firstly simmers the asparagus in water which just covers them meanly, with only a pinch of salt for company. I try and be as mean as I can possibly muster. When they are tender she removes them from the 'sprew liquor' (try Googling that), scrapes the flesh off on a wooden board and simmers down the liquor to a reduction. I just whizz them up in the processor to a paste. The soup starts with melted butter and flour, making a roux for the sprew - adding the liquor back in gradually, followed by some white wine, then some milk and finally some cream, all the while stirring over a gentle heat. It's like a béchamel sauce at this stage.

It doesn't sound attractive when Fanny describes it, but she adds in the 'sprew pulp' next and gives it a good beating. The 'soup' turns a lovely shade of pale green. Fanny adjusts the consistency with more milk if needed, a little much needed seasoning and a teeny-tiny grating of hard cheese. It's a rich tasting soup, the wine is fairly prominent but goes well with the asparagus. Fanny prefers this soup to served iced, en Glacée, so chill out for a while as the soup chills in the fridge. Fanny also prefers the rather pallid colour to be amplified somewhat with a little tint of harmless vegetable colouring. Asparagus soup without Asparagus I can almost go with, but maybe I'd say 'First, dear members, do not use food colouring in your soup'...

A Little Piece

Fanny certainly loved a party. Any excuse to invite a few select people she never really liked that much from the bad old days to gasp in wonder at the heaving buffet table she'd flung together seemingly effortlessly. And no better opportunity to show off her extensive knowledge of all things European than a soirée for Eurovision surely? Having been a contestant herself (albeit not singing) she would have plenty to crow about as she gave her guests a tour round her geographically inspired spread, laden with all kinds of everything. Additionally, any opportunity to showcase her Crêpes skills sending those attending into euphoria would be perfect. Perfectly creative continental canapés that is, but Fanny warns they are only for ambitious cooks who are prepared to spend a little more time.

Fanny makes very small canapé size crêpes in a normal size pan by simply placing dessertspoonfuls of ordinary pancake mixture onto the hot surface and running them into neat circles with the back of a spoon. I have a mini-frying pan that does the trick nicely, no need for spooning from me.  I love the little things. Fanny suggests that for special occasions such as this that we make very fine pancakes. This involves making the batter as usual, I'm using my lovely Wrights flour again, but then straining it through some nylon stockings before use. Erm, I think my Eurovision party guests can do without this additional one step further, don't you? 

As it is a very special Eurovision Party, four very special canapés are required. The crowning glory, rising like a phoenix from the display, takes the longest to assemble, so is tackled first. It's a sweet, steamed pudding made from crêpes smeared with jelly and filled with custard. Perfect to represent France - Fanny names them 'Pouding des Crêpes en Vapeur'. Eh, Parlez vous Français, Fanny? I have some homemade Bramble and Elderflower Edinburgh Gin Jelly left which should work well, even if Fanny claims to not know what a bramble is. Better the devil you know I say, we are amongst professionals now.

Individual moulds are greased and lined with the jammy crêpes, filled with extra thick custard and topped with more crêpes ready for steaming. Fanny says we will be surprised when they are steamed that they pop out of their little moulds perfectly, as she was apparently the first time she made them. To get them ready for their performance, more warmed jelly should be poured over. The steamed custard thickens and allows the moulded crêpes to hold their shape. As a canapé they are a big bite-size but a great 'congratulations' at the end of the buffet, but to get there we need savouries first! Time for making our minds up on fillings.

Flying the flag for the United Kingdom, and to keep things seasonal, Asparagus is perfect. Simply grilled and rolled in a mini-crêpe, secured with a cocktail stick. Think Eurovision and like me you probably think ABBA, so to represent Sweden I have some Quorn Meatballs. Fanny suggests rolling the mini-crêpes into cones for these, secured with a cocktail stick. ABBA would be so proud. Finally, representing Italy is a 'Tricolore' of mozzarella, tomato and basil, folded over into crescent shapes and lightly grilled before being secured with a cocktail stick. You get the idea. Fanny has one final reminder for any successful Eurovision canapé party - the essential provision of napkins. Please do not forget. Fanny prefers proper table napkins, but doesn't mind if others have to use those 'rather nasty paper ones'. Make your selection carefully however, your guests will be looking for any excuse to knock a few points off before they say 'Ne partez pas sans moi' to each other. You don't want nul points when the jury calls. Beg steal or borrow the correct linen and boom bang a bang, before the party's over you will undoubtedly be scoring douze points. 

To celebrate all things Eurovision, I am entering these party canapés into this months Treat Petite, hosted by Mr Cakeyboi and The Baking Explorer, check out the other Euro-tastic entries!