Don't Question the Digestion Suggestion

Fanny has taken an unexpected few weeks off. Not, as you might assume, to travel to fabulous places, rest and eat fabulous food. No, she's been furiously checking over and analysing what she has shown us so far, and has been actively making forward plans for future culinary adventures. She does deserve a break in all fairness. She's been beavering away for the past forty-three weeks solidly producing weekly magazines entirely for our benefit (ok, and for significant financial gain) stuffed full of recipes and ideas to free us from the shackles of domestic drudgery. By making certain we never leave the kitchen.

The reason for this slight pause in proceedings is to ensure that the next half of the part-work is as thrilling as the first. Yes, we are half-way through, by Fanny's calculations. It may have taken Fanny almost a year of non-stop whipping, beating and piping, but it's taken me close to four years. Fanny thinks we're only just beginning to master the basics. Fanny originally planned the part-work to be a glorious technicolour collection of ninety-six. Little did she realise that it would come to a premature end rather abruptly after a more modest eighty. So, in reality, I'm well past half-way, by my calculations. I do often wonder what would be found in those missing sixteen parts, but perhaps that's a concern for another day.

Today, we must focus on observing how the old and familiar and the new and unfamiliar not only start coming together very closely but at the same time lay down fresh foundations for further, forward adventures. The old and familiar Fanny has in mind are digestive biscuits. The new and unfamiliar is making them into a fancy, French-style flan. Fanny does not think the word Tart is suitable for polite company, either in the kitchen or the bedroom. Except here, her Biscuit Based Fruit Flan is also called Tarte aux Fruits d'Eté. Ooo-la-la.

She bashes the biscuits to crumbs, thinking no doubt about someone that she never really liked very much with every mighty blow. She adds melted butter and presses the thick paste 'of moulding consistency' into a flan ring, moulding it into a flan shape. It's a flan you see. While it chills in ordinary domestic refrigeration, she whips up some very thick confectioners' custard to cover the base with, followed by any choice of berry that your heart should desire. Simple. Just a bit of a glaze with a suitable fruit jelly (I use my homemade Bramble) and it's all done.

Fanny hasn't wasted any time on this recipe, proposing instead that we 'repair our memory gaps' on the absolute basic techniques so that we have them at our finger tips for the journey ahead. I think she means, please take some time to read back over my previous blog posts. Thanks Fanny for the plug. We will soon be trying hundreds of new things, and we must be able to depend on the basics. If our foundations are secure, there will be no limit to the magnificent confections which we will be able to achieve working together. I'm excited, and appreciate the opportunity to tuck into this tasty tart(e) in anticipation meantime as I segue gracefully from 'basic' to 'advanced' in the capable hands of Fanny. Are you by my side?

Cat Got Your Tongue?

Some days we all just want to keep things low key. We might be feeling a little bit quiet. We might be feeling a little bit flat. We might be feeling just a little bit ordinary. Nothing wrong with that. Nothing much to shout about. Maybe we just want to have something comforting and familiar in our lives. Fanny always has the answer, and it's usually cake. As it happens her solution here is her 'signature' with a twist. The cake is normally flat, normally ordinary, always comforting, always familiar. So, imagine it with oooopmh, and you have her Swiss Roll, presented as a Gâteau...

Fanny has her own ideas on how a Swiss Roll should be made, and we've made them a few times together before. For my money, they always work, always produce a light, spongey cake panel and always go down well. She shoots hot sugar into eggs as they whisk, until a light, yellow, fluffy double-in-size mixture is created begging for you to fold in some flour and bake. She calls it the 'Swiss Roll Which Will Never Crack', and like her smile, it doesn't.

This time, Fanny bakes it in a perfectly ordinary 8-inch round cake tin, all lined and ready with greaseproof paper. It bakes for longer than an ordinary, flat Swiss Roll, but comes out just as springy and light. Fanny splits it carefully with a large knife and spreads it either with homemade jam, or when it is available scum from the jam. Yes, scum. Perhaps she really means something very different, she often does, but to me scum is the frothy stuff that rises to the top when you make jam. You skim it off and throw it away. Does Fanny really spread it in her cakes?

I don't have any to hand regardless, so use my homemade Bramble Jelly. We know how Fanny loves a Bramble. In addition to spreading it in the middle and 'clapping' the two halves together again, Fanny brushes it all over the sponge. It feels a little wrong, am I reading the instructions correctly? I should really have more faith in dear old Fanny, soon all becomes clear. She has plans. It's all methodical. Panic over. It's not only for taste, but also for glue.

Fanny takes some Langues de Chat (Cats' Tongues) biscuits that are either homemade or shop bought (I bought some this time), brushes them with more jam and dips them in freshly milled pistachios. She knows this is rather extravagant, so it remains optional. Then, they are stuck round the outside of the gâteau. The glue-jam helps them to stand proudly. A cheerful border of freshly whipped cream, a little icing sugar and a whipped egg white is piped around the inside, before the centre is piled high with the chosen berries. Fanny choses blackcurrants. I chose blueberries. Suddenly the day feels less flat, less ordinary and more familiar as I tuck quietly into a hearty slice of this satisfyingly spongey surprise. And *maybe* another one too. Just don't shout about it.

An Apple A Day The Escoffier Way

Everything Fanny prepared had a foundation in the world of Escoffier, for her he was the pinnacle for professionalism that we should all aspire for. Fanny was all about aspiration. Fanny was not aspiring you'll understand, she was already there, but she longed to inspire us, the everyday, ordinary cooks, to share her aspiration. It was also a complicated ambition, as we were meant to admire Fanny at the same time, otherwise we'd just aim straight for the Escoffier books instead of hers and Fannys sales would plummet. So she added some eagerness to it all, switched thing up a little, added a little colour here and there, and in her mind at least, she made it easier for the ordinary housewife to desire to access the grand levels that Escoffier inhabited.

Fannys aim in passing on these Poached Apples or Pommes Pochées à l'Escoffier was simply to transform the humble fruit into a dreamy dessert which would have been at home on those higher rungs of the culinary ladder. Fanny poached her apples in ever-so-English Cider, matching the crispness of the rouged up russets perfectly. I've got a yearning for something just a little different though, so I'm switching the cider for the oh-so-Scottish and oh-so-lovely Outaspace Apple Ale from Glasgow based Drygate Brewery that jumped into my trolley at the supermarket. I hope my aspirations aren't above my station.

Fanny starts by peeling the apples very carefully, very professionally. I try to do it all in one round, and I mostly manage, with only a slight tear. When I was young I am sure everyone peeled their apples before they ate them, but I was the odd one who then ate the peel. It may explain a lot. The peeled pommes are popped into a shallow-ish pan that is deep enough for them to be covered while the poaching liquor is prepared.

The poaching liquid is a heady mix of the booze, water and some fruit jelly, but I'm switching it all up again. I know, no stopping me! Fanny uses her beloved Red Currant Jelly to give the finished apples a jolt of colour, but I am using (again) my Bramble and Gin Jelly. It has a glorious colour, and taste. The jelly is mixed first with the water to dissolve it, then the ale (or cider if you like sticking to the rules) before being poured over the waiting apples. Fanny pops them over a 'thread' of a heat and leaves them until they are semi-transparent and bright pink underneath. It takes about half an hour.

They are then ready to be turned over for the topside to be tinted. I found they bobbed around a little but eventually found their way. Okay I had to wrestle them for a while with crossed fingers, not easy. Do not be tempted to turn the heat up to speed up the poaching. Fanny warns if the liquid bubbles hard the apples will collapse and the whole thing will be ruined. Be patient and you will be rewarded. Fanny says when they are 'not ruined but cooked' to lift them out, drain and place them on your chosen dish. Then, and only then, boil the liquor hard to reduce, as you would for any top level sauce, just as the great Escoffier himself did. The resulting sauce, with no added thickeners, is then poured over the Pommes Pochées and, well, scoffed like Escoffier would. Garnish with a leaf first though, above all presentation and garnish. Apples, beer, jelly and gin - these are aspirations I can easily strive for!

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!

It's Chrissssssssstmas! Are you fond of festive fondant?

Christmas is so important to Fanny that she dedicates several parts to whipping up endless treats and essentials for the annual celebration. So, for the next few months it's all Noël round here as I prepare along with Fanny. Previously I'd be one of those people who refused to think about the 'C' word at least until after Bonfire Night, and more likely well into December, but Fanny must be infiltrating my mind and soul. I am cheerily skipping through the fake snow of the Christmas department of John Lewis, watching back-to-back Christmas shows on Food Network UK and stocking up with winter-y ingredients as if my flat is to be hazardously cut off from civilisation at any moment. Fanny aims to get me prepared, but I am slightly concerned I may peak too soon...

For Fanny, the most festive of treats is cake. Not only was she determined that everyone should be able to afford a piece of cake at least once a year, but that at Christmas they should be decorated in a sufficiently celebratory fashion. Viewers and readers must've bombarded Fanny with 'cross letters' saying that her Royal Icing cracked their teeth, for here she recommends the softer Fondant as her covering of choice. However, Fanny says, please do not be alarmed into thinking that this is in any way a 'classic' fondant which must be worked up with a spatula on a marble surface. No, Fannys version is much less complicated. And everyone should make their own fondant, shouldn't they Mary Berry? The horror of shop bought was not in Fannys mind.

Fannys version involves adding an egg white and some gently warmed liquid glucose to sifted icing sugar. Fanny warns NOT to beat the egg white at all. Fanny has another warning to ONLY buy your liquid glucose for the chemist. Please update this advice to read 'any good supermarket' unless you want some very funny looks next time you pick up your prescriptions. This fondant is so easy, she sets poor Johnnie to it - simply working it up to a stiff paste and kneading it on a dusted surface. Any flavourings and colours may be added, I choose just to add some pastel shades. Well almost pastel shades.

Fanny uses her fondant to cover cakes, to stamp out pretty little designs to add to cakes and to cover her very favourite Minature Bûches de Noël, or Mini Swiss Roll Christmas Logs. Fanny clearly trusts us now to return to the very beginning and prepare her 'no-crack' Swiss Roll, the only difference is to make it thinner than usual. So I divide the standard mixture between two pans. Once cooked for only a few minutes, the panels are trimmed and cut into eight pieces of equal size. The trimming is essential to ensure that the roll up perfectly without those shameful cracks. 

Fanny fills her Mini Bûches with jam, jelly or buttercream. I went brambling at the weekend with my Mum for the first time in years, and made a very nostalgic batch of Bramble Jelly. I can clearly remember the smell and taste of my Grans jelly several decades after last having the joy of it, so this was my attempt to recreate it. I added some Elderflower Gin from Edinburgh Gin to the batch and it tasted perfectly hedgerow-retro-tastic. Perhaps my Gran used to add Gin to hers too? Either way it makes a perfect filling for these little festive fancies. Once spread and rolled up the fondant needs to be rolled out and cut to size to cover them. Fannys final warning is to roll out the fondant on a cold surface sprinkled with CORNFLOUR this time, which will not affect the fondant if the cakes are stored. It's like insurance she says, to avoid nasty little humps appearing like dogs under the bedclothes. Please take heed, and do not write any nasty letters to say it has if you haven't. Fanny has lots of Christmas knowledge to share, and doesn't have time to read them. 

Trellis Without Tears - Poor Man's Waffles?

Fanny is very proud of another invention next, and really made a splash of announcing it in this second instalment of her partwork. The first invention she laid claim to in this issue was the rather useful Garlic Oil, which is now available in almost every supermarket across the land. I get the feeling that this new invention will be harder to find on any tea time table ANYWHERE in the world, but I could be wrong. The modern-day, cynical part of me wonders if the invention was just an excuse to use the fabulous trellis tool from the Potato Flan top... So, here is the unveiling of Fanny's own invention, the Poor Man's Waffle! 

Essentially they are baked sheets of puff pastry cut to look like waffles and sandwiched with jam. Sorry if I don't sound overly enthusiastic about them... Maybe it's just a case that I don't consider waffles to be the food of gods or the very rich... But if like me you don't have a waffle machine in your kitchen (oh, I am poor!) and you have some puff pastry to use up, then maybe this one's for you!

So Fanny instructs me to roll out some of her six-minute rough puff pastry and use the trellis tool as before to create a lattice. I decide to roll it out using icing sugar for some added sweetness, but I must make it clear this is my on my own initiative. Sorry Fanny.

Then, simply cut two waffle shapes from the resulting circle, roll up the scraps and roll out again, this time cutting the same size shape with no lattice holes. Give them a quick brush with egg wash and bake until golden.

Fanny suggests spreading them with blackcurrant jelly before 'clapping' them together, but does say that we may use any jam or jelly. I still have some Bramble Jelly so that's what I use. I clap them together. Fanny claims these waffles are wonderful for times when you want to eat something without cream or custard. This is Fanny saying this, of course. Fanny does have the good grace to acknowledge that this recipe is simply a piece of 'little nonsense' so perhaps it was just an excuse to use the trellis tool after all. Still, a tasty snack, but I'd probably prefer just a slice of toast. Not as much fun.