Fanny Takes The Biscuit

Fanny Cradock just loves tiddling things up. She can't leave anything alone. Nothing is safe from her nimble fingers, cunning plans and decorating box of tricks. Plain old things bore her to tears. The nasty neighbours would talk about you over the fence if you served them something basic, or even if they spied it on your plate... Why on earth would you have something 'ordinary' when you could transform it into 'extraordinary' in a flash? 'Stripped down' and 'modest' were not in Fanny's vocabulary.

Even the simplest of biscuits could be tiddled up from basic to fancy. Shortbread is often thought of as a simple biscuit, but in Fanny's world this needn't be the case. Fanny is not suggesting that we all spend hours and hours in the kitchen creating ridiculous showstoppers (ahem, biscuit Chandelier anyone?), however with a little bit of imagination and some store cupboard essentials, the nasty neighbours may just be, reluctantly, voting you as Star Baker when the pop round for afternoon tea.

Fanny's shortbread is made from a mix of ordinary flour and Rice flour (for a crunch), butter and caster sugar. The butter is beaten with the sugar, and then the mix of flours gently added in to combine. The mixture resembles breadcrumbs really, but should clump together between your hands if you give it a good squeeze. Think of this nasty neighbours and cackle loudly as you do it.

Fanny then rolls out the crumbly mix and begins the transformation from unvarnished to embellished. A third of the dough is cut cleverly into leaf shapes. Fanny does this freehand, so do I. I don't have any leaf cutter, but you may do. A third are cut into simple rounds with a very ordinary cutter. The final third are also cut into rounds, with the centre of half of those cut with a piping nozzle to make rings. All from the same austere mixture. The simple rounds are to be glazed with egg white and scattered with almond flakes. Leave the rest bare and bake for around eight or nine minutes. Just time to lean over the fence and gloat to those neighbours.

Let the tiddling begin! The almond rounds are already tiddled, so set them on a rack to cook. Carefully, they will be soft until they do. The rounds with holes become like Jammie Dodgers, filled with jam. I have used Rhubarb and Gin jam for mine. Gin helps everything. This is not enough tiddling for Fanny however. Slice a coloured glacé cherry in half, plonk it in the centre and add a sprig of cut Angelica. There is no explanation of why, but tiddle away and ask no questions. The leaves are tiddled with melted chocolate chips, covering only half the leaf. Tiddling done, the nasty neighbours will think you've been at it for hours...

A Whack of Leather - Our Third Fanny-versary!

Three really is a magic number, but sometimes it feels a little overlooked. I mean everyone likes a 'first' don't they? Nothing better. The Winner! The Original! The Pioneer! Second feels like a real achievement, having kept going and 'done it again', still pretty good compared to first. Third though, it's a bit like, okay, that's great. A kind of 'well done' but also a 'what's for tea' kind of celebration really. So, it may just be me, but today I am shouting it loud and cheering (for myself) as Fanny and I celebrate a terrific three years together. Aw. That's 'leather' in anniversary terms... Oh. Best move on.

Three years! You may not have been reading along from the very beginning (erm, but now I think of it, what not?), but that's a lot of weird and whacky recipes, a lot food colouring and a lot of mentions of poor, down-trodden assistants getting into hot water for not following instructions. That's probably where the leather comes in - a quick whack with a belt? It's also three years of learning new techniques, uncovering new flavour combinations and generally having a real laugh. Every day. That's not bad going is it? With Fanny watching over me. Every day. I don't think I've done anything deserving of a good belting. Yet.

I must distract Fanny's mind from leather. Fortunately Fanny has just the thing in mind for 'our' celebration - a three tired cake. Okay, so she's got her celebrations a little mixed up, but it's the thought that counts isn't it? She remembered! Her idea is to make a three tiered wedding cake, perfect for a June bride. She did love a good wedding, whether in June or not. She even had a fake one or two along the way, often more than one at the same time, and never really much clarity on who was married to whom, but we're not being judge-y today of all days, it's a day to celebrate.

Fanny suggests her tried and tested Christmas Cake (is it too early to mention?) for the three tiered triumph. We've made it before, together of course, but never in triplicate. Fanny informs us that the base layer is to be cut and eaten on the wedding day. The second layer should be stored away to celebrate the First Anniversary, or if we are more ambitious, and have blooming good storage, the Silver Wedding Anniversary. The Third and final tier is intended to celebrate the birth of the first child. I fear that Fanny may be waiting quite some time for that particular celebration. Maybe a sacrificial leathering is the best option after all.

So, it's a spicy, fruity, slightly boozy cake fest in June. Once all three cakes are mixed up and baked, Fanny urges us to move swiftly onto the decoration. Almond Paste followed by Royal Icing is essential as a starting point. She advises that it is best to practice decoration on an entirely irrelevant cake that you just happen to have lying around. This is what she makes Johnnie do. Poor Johnnie, it keeps him occupied. He decorates the bottom layer with stars. I, on the other hand, do not have any irrelevant cakes, or indeed any that hang about too long, but I am always applying the knowledge that wise old Fanny gives me. So I know cakes should be blue. Mix the two together and surely this is the ultimate Third Fanny-versary cake? The big question is, will we still be together for the next five years of Fanny Fun required to compete the Cookery Programme? Our next Fanny-versary is the much more suitable Fruit and Flowers, so don't be scared...

Fannys Firenze Frenzy

Fanny was a very well respected (at least that's what she said) travel correspondent before she transformed herself into a cookery writer and TV Chef. She'd scribble about anything if she got paid in reality, but she loved gadding about, dashing off columns and banging out books mainly about aspirational but perhaps achievable European travel from 1950's onwards. With Johnnie by her side, she selfishly packed up her trunk and toured round for the Bon Viveur Guide to Holidays in Europe. It was the TripAdvisor of its time. She invented it - they were the original Judith Chalmers and Michael Palin. Fanny just loved to get away, especially to Italy and in particular to Florence.

Notwithstanding, Fanny warned that Florence, despite it's 'gay friendliness', explosion of floral displays and people who were 'incredibly interested in your well-being' (did she mean overly nosey?), had 'climatic conditions' which produced heat that even the Romans considered intense. Well-to-do Italians flocked there for the winter. The travel guide, like many today, gives average temperatures year round, but Fanny introduces a new comparison to give her untravelled readers an idea of what these temperatures would be like. She compares and contrasts the average temperature in Eastbourne. So in July while it would be an imaginable 60F on Englands' coastline, in Florence it would be tropical at 81F. Strange how the Eastbourne Scale didn't catch on...

If you can bear the heat, Fanny recommends lots to do while in Florence. The most important of which is to shop for straw goods in the aptly named Straw Market. She couldn't get enough straw. In addition to shopping Fanny recounts the delights of the Firenze Golf Club, the Winter Opera Season (December and January), a wealth of Art and Architecture and in summertime you can watch the locals play football in funny costumes. What more could you want from a forgiven jaunt? It all sounds so perfectly civilised.

Except the food, which Fanny describes as 'running the gamut from A to B' using the adjective 'limited' as a harsh warning. She then, of course, goes on to list a huge variety of food that you can get, and better still that you should bring home with you. Exotic items like Aubergines and her beloved Pimentos. She lets readers and possible travellers know to expect an excessive use of cheese, far too much frying, out of proportion tomato sauces, inordinate amounts of pastas and for everything to be served with an abundance of oil, which Fanny notes is disastrous for the 'untrained stomachs.' Don't ask how she knows, but Johnnie looks sheepish.

Fanny does recommend Florence for sweet little biscuits however, and recreates her version of a Florentine in the partwork. She melts butter with sugar, adding in chopped almonds, flaked almonds, chopped glacé cherries (Il Tricolore if you please) and a little cream. Fanny leaves this mixture to cool before blobbing teaspoons-full onto trays and baking them for 12 minutes. They spread a lot (did she miss out the flour?), and emerge like super thin shards of brown glass, ready for their characteristic chocolate bases, swirled with forks into wavy patterns. They sum up Fannys review of Florence - gay and colourful, baked in heat unknown in Eastbourne, cultured and exotic, crisp and sweet, although a little greasy with copious amounts of butter. Presumably by the time you return from Florence your stomach has been trained to cope.

Going Dutch in the Oven

Sometimes Fanny Cradock makes suggestions that are widely applicable to a range of different situations. She'll say that such and such a cake is suitable for rustling up quickly perhaps when so and so just happen to pop round unexpectedly. Other menus are carefully crafted to stun the neighbours that you never really liked very much, convince uncertain bosses that promotion is the best option or to dazzle old chums on a heaving buffet table when entertaining. From time to time though she suggests something that's just so specific it's hard to imagine anyone thinking 'oh yes, that's just what I've been waiting for.' The final 'bread' in this partwork is just that - apparently it's simply perfect for when you are entertaining Dutch friends at Easter and are struggling to think what to serve them for breakfast. Always a dilemma.

The answer is Dutch Easterbread. or Oesterbröd. There can't really be many perfect choices for this situation. It's fortunate that Fanny herself happened to be in Amsterdam one Easter Sunday to taste this. Fanny doesn't disclose if any other traditional Dutch delicacies were taken on that particular trip. She does admit to having an 'overwhelming compulsion' to eat almond paste and crystallised fruits though, so was naturally drawn to this traditional Dutch bread which is filled with a fruity marzipan-y concoction. In Fannys mind, it would be too shameful to serve something from our own fair isle I imagine.

This recipe starts off with a standard batch of white bread dough. While it's proving, get to work whipping up some butter until it is 'creamily soft'. In Fanny's favourite kitchen implement, a roomy bowl, mix together ground almonds, icing sugar (sifted of course), glacé cherries (I've got some lovely retro-tastic multi-coloured ones), raisins and finely diced candied Angelica. It's all Fannys favourite things. Angelica has such an unusual taste, I love it. It's a favourite botanical in gin, which is probably why I love it so much! It's long overdue for a comeback in it's own right though I reckon. This nostalgic mix is bound together with an egg white to make a fairly firm paste.

Once proved, Fanny says to roll the dough out to a rectangular shape and spread it with the softened whipped butter. Fanny forms her fruity paste into a 'sausage' and rolls it up so that it's inside the dough. Fanny is very particular about the decoration, I'm guessing you wouldn't want your Easter breakfast guests from the Netherlands to be sniggering behind your back at your lack of authentic detail. So, I do as I am told and score the top of the loaf with 'slanty' cuts about 1/4 inch apart all the way down. A quick egg wash and a sprinkle with bashed up loaf sugar (or just ready bashed caster sugar) and it's ready to bake. Just 'until it's ready' - Fanny clearly thinks I'm now able to judge when this will be.

Having helped us to make several Cradock-style loaves now, Fanny is concerned about storage. She thinks it's vitally important, especially if you are new to the job. For busy women (and presumably men) there is 'no mortal use' in caring sufficiently about your families health (or perhaps your Dutch overnight guests) to create 'crusty crusts and an edible crumb with an absolute absence of artificial bleaching agents', unless the resulting beautiful loaves last several days. Fanny's recommendation is simple, once cooled wrap them tightly in ordinary kitchen foil. Then, even if your Dutch guests outstay their welcome and are still popping up for breakfast 2, 3, 4 or even 5 days after Easter, you will be serving them perfectly edible bread on each occasion. If you really want to see them 'rejoice' when they spy their breakfast tray, the trick is to serve this loaf not only with wheels of butter, but slices of cheese and ham rolled up. Oh, they'll be thrilled! Do let me know if you ever have guests from Holland over Easter and you try this. Or if like me, you don't, but simply love a massive slice of fruity, sweet almond bread.

A Cup O' Tea & A Slice O' Cake

Fanny stretches her definitions in the Home-Made Bread part to include a Simple Tea Loaf. Not that I'm complaining, much as her bread has been grand so far, it's nice to have a much 'kneaded' break and a wee slice of cake is very welcome indeed to balance it all out. And well, it's a loaf, so all is well. Fanny says that this particular recipe is the ONLY one in her whole LIFE she has ever found in a leaflet that has been worth making more than once to find out it's quality. Presumably she's not talking about her own leaflets? Which are booklets really, and sometimes contain so many high quality recipes they are more like small books...

Fanny suggests using any mixture of dried fruit for this recipe, just whatever is bulging out of your kitchen cupboards and crying out to be used at the time. I've got a selection of raisins, dried cherries and dried apricots which would seem to fit the bill. I'm lucky that my local fruit and veg shop, Tattie Shaws, sells a great selection of almost everything, including dried fruits. It's like a wee treasure trove in there. It's hard to resist adding some Glacé Cherries into the mix too, no cake of Fannys would be complete without them.

Fanny doesn't specify the tea to be used either. I think I'm being trusted to make more and more decisions all by myself these days. I think I can just about cope in choosing a tea-bag for a loaf. Or can I? Giving myself a shake I head to the kitchen and decisively make a selection. My choice is from TeaPigs, and is a Liquorice and Peppermint, which I hope gives a slightly different flavour to the fruity cake. Fanny would probably raise her considerable eye-brows and remind me that I am among professionals now, and professionals only use blah-de-blah tea but I'm feeling a little rebellious. Also, it's all I have in my cupboard. So kind of rebellious and entirely practical.

The instructions are relatively simple, which is just as well after all these edgy and exhausting decisions. I chop up the apricots and halve the glacé cherries so that all the fruits are almost the same size. Sitting down with a delicate china cup of tea to munch on a gob-full of dried fruit just wouldn't do. A fair amount of brown sugar is mixed in, so much so that I'm questioning Fannys accuracy here, but I plough on. The cold tea is poured on top, and the (self raising) flour, a little salt and one solitary egg is worked in. Very economical. Fanny says the mixture will be very loose, and it is. Reading ahead, I had buttered and floured a loaf tin, so once combined it all gets poured in and baked in a moderate oven for a whole hour.

The finished 'loaf' comes out of the tin very well - that buttering and flouring technique is a good top tip of Fannys. Fanny says if you and your family are able to exercise some self control the loaf can be covered in foil once cooled and left for 24 hours before cutting. My self control is out of control so I take the other option of slathering over some icing glaze, decorating it with more glacé cherries, slicing and getting stuck in. Fanny says if you follow her techniques the fruit will 'stay where you put it' and not sink to the bottom of the cake. Unlike the weather in Edinburgh today though, it is quite dry and a little crunchy (maybe there was too much sugar after all?), but with a cup of tea it is lovely. With butter smothered on it I am sure it'll be even better. If only I'd been able to leave it for a day! Fanny is certainly right (again) - this is one recipe worth hanging on to the leaflet for and making again! I'm sure she meant one recipe not of hers though, undeniably they are well used, aren't they?

Ricotta Roll - the Big Cheese Freeze

I've never been to Italy. It's quite a shock to think it out loud, and to write it down. Never been. Fanny would be horrified. I love to travel, as she did, and love to hoover up food wherever I go, as she did too. I love Italian food, just like Fanny. So, it just seems odd to have never even considered heading to the home of pasta, pizza, risotto and gelato. Perhaps it's because Italian food is everywhere, there's no need to search it out? Perhaps it's because it's relatively simple to recreate at home? Perhaps it's because Fanny made it so commonplace? Perhaps I need to remedy it in the near future at any rate - watch out Italy I'm coming your way (maybe).

Not only do I love cooking and eating Italian fare (or at least my version, and Fanny's take!) but I love trying new things. Last year I headed to the Eat Drink Discover Scotland event in Edinburgh in search of more new things. My house is full of new things. And old things really, just full. I'd been following the adventures of the Big Cheese Making Kit folk, so was delighted to snap up one of their kits to make my own vegetarian (all their kits use veggie rennet) cheese at home. Who would've thought it? I plumped for Mozzarella and Ricotta. I made the Mozzarella straight away and was impressed with the result. The geek in me was impressed with the process too. The science-y bit.

Fanny uses Ricotta in her final recipe to follow all that pasta - Italian Cream Cheese Iced Pudding, or Gelato de Ricotta, and I'm sure she'd be delighted if her student were to make their own cheese, wouldn't she? It's fairly easy, everything you need is in the kit, except the milk. I've gone 'best' here and am using Grahams Dairy Gold. Use the best you can find. The Ricotta is easiest of all, just add citric acid and salt to the milk and heat until the curds separate from the whey, strain (I hung mine over the kitchen tap) and it's ready. Really fresh, really creamy. Really perfect for an Italian dessert.

Fanny makes a kind of ice cream with hers - blending it with sugar, chocolate chips and chopped glacé cherries. I'm tempted to say Tutti Frutti or Neapolitan, it's neither but maybe a bit of both. Fanny also adds vanilla and a little Crème de Cacao from a miniature bottle. I use some vanilla paste and Pure Chocolate Extract from Little Pod as a substitute. No alcohol, but it does come in a little bottle. What's wrong with me - no alcohol? Once combined it's popped in the ordinary domestic deep freeze. No churning or fancy machines again for Fanny.

To serve, Fanny chooses an old favourite, the Swiss Roll. Oh, not very Italian then. I wondered if I might be able to encase the Ricotta Ice Cream in the roll like that old 1970's favourite Arctic Roll, but even after a full day in the deep freeze, the Ricotta Ice Cream wasn't quite firm enough. Fanny makes a kind of cake with hers, but I simply slice and plop the ice cream on top. It's a bit wonky, maybe inspired by the leaning Tower of Pisa? Tasty though, with a great texture. The added chocolate and cherries go well. It's not the most attractive looking dessert, but looks aren't everything. Fanny smothers hers in sifted icing sugar as with all things, so it's hard to see what it looked like for her. She serves a slice on scented geranium leaves, which I don't have, but I'm learning to adapt. I'm not sure if I ever do make it over to Italy that this is what they will be eating, which has never really concerned Fanny, but until then I'm in ignorant, cheesy bliss. Perhaps it's brain freeze...

Soup of the Day, which is Tuesday

After all those potato dishes, what's needed is a wholesome and fresh Bill of Fare to bring this part to a close, and thankfully Fanny doesn't disappoint (as if). As ever the dinner party menu suggestions bear no relation whatsoever to what we've been learning, but it's no bad thing here as Fanny suggests a simple Spinach soup - or Velouté d'Epinards for the followers of French - and some stuffed baked Apples - Pommes Farcies. The soup looks very quick to make and as usual I am (pleasantly) surprised by the method. 

Fanny suggests cooking the spinach and passing it through a sieve. This seems a little strange to me, or dows it just sound like hard work? Either way, I revert to the 'wilt and chop' method I am comfortable with, I've had enough of that ordinary kitchen sieve for all those potatoes lately. I always find my wok the best spinach wilter. Mmm, it's so green, and naturally so too! 

The base for the soup reminds me more of a white sauce really, and there's no stock involved. Fanny recommends a 'roomy pan' to dissolve the butter in before shooting in the flour and mixing. I am getting very used to 'shooting' in the flour, and I even like saying it. Once cooked out for a minute or two, a pint of milk - I am using Soya for extra taste and because really I am not keen on milk to be honest - is gradually mixed in with some spinach, beating well between each addition. I am getting very used to beating things in too, and also like saying it. I am just shooting and beating all day.

The roux starts off quite thick and pasty, but soon thins down after a few shoots and beats. The final thing is to add some seasoning - salt, pepper and nutmeg, yum - and some grated hard cheese. I've got some Double Gloucester which seems perfect. A quick mix, I mean beat, and that's it. Fanny says if I am feeling WILDLY extravagant I can add a dollop of cream, but does warn that this is an unnecessary addition for everyday occasions. I'm feeling extravagant. The soup is really fresh and tasty, still quite hearty though. The nutmeg kick is the real extravagance here, perfect.

More freshness for pudding, and again simple and quick. Perfect to whip up for a midweek after work supper. Baked Apples. 

I set to coring a couple of cooking apples, and then very carefully as I am sure Fanny would've approved of, I run a small sharp knife around each apple in a very thin meridian line. This causes the skin to contract while baking, Fanny tells me, and thus enables me to 'jack off' the top easily. Erm, ok. 

The missing core is filled with a lucious mixture of chopped glacé cherries, walnuts and golden syrup before baking. Fanny says to bake them 'until tender' so I check and check every now and again, until around 45 minutes later the top skins have jacked off all by themselves. Some the escaped syrupy juice is reunited over the apple. The finished Baked Apples are soft but still have some bite, Fanny describes them as feathery, and just enough sweetness from the syrup and cherries, with a bit of crunch with the walnuts. I'm enjoying this mid week dinner party very much!