Broadly, A Green Bean Scene

Some of the things that Fanny cooked have just not survived into our stylish, state-of-the-art kitchens. Some of the things are perhaps just a little too retro to be considered cool or chic today. Some of the things don't seem to be required any longer in our modern lives. Some of the things have perhaps disappeared for good reason. Some of the things were probably already seen as 'old hat' by the time the partwork was produced in the 1970s. Some of the things just wouldn't have been retro, cool, or worth remembering even then. But, Fanny loved them. One of those such things is aspic.

You just don't see it pop up on menus any more. Nowhere. No TV chefs are clambering to bring it back. No-one is desperate to give it a make-over or in any way keen to reintroduce it to our table. Not a mention. Essentially it's a flavoured stock, set with jelly and poured over meats and vegetables to keep them sparkling and fresh, and often including elaborate designs. What's not to like? It sounds so much fun. I have no idea why aspic is not back, back, back. On every menu. Every buffet table. In every kitchen.

Fanny uses it to keep things looking bright and appealing, of course. And what could be more appealing than the broad bean. I love them. So green and fresh looking, they are most vibrant of the beans. Once you release them from their 'overcoats' that is. While they are still wearing those, they look dull and unappealing. Fanny's idea is to make a flan to show them off to their max, all nestled closely together in their shortcrust pastry case. We know the recipe by now, so Fanny merely refers to it in the past. Quickly pulled together and blind baked, all ready to be fancied up.

Fanny insists we steam our broad beans. She may have insisted that they be freshly picked from the garden, and if I had a garden I would have pursued this insistence. Instead, I insisted on visiting the local supermarket, and found some lovely looking ones lurking in the freezer. They steam well. I have hidden an egg in the boiling water underneath, which bubbles away while the steaming takes place. Even fancier ideas from Fanny are afoot.

Fanny piles the luscious green beans into the pastry cases, and makes little decorations to look like flower petals from tiny little slices of tomato and the hard-boiled egg white, efficiently cooked. It's quite fiddly work. Fanny asks that we chose our favourite aspic, or cheats aspic, and cover the flans gently. My favourite of course contains no gelatine, instead a simple flavourless jelly made from Agar flakes. The finished flashy flans have flair and form. The 'aspic' makes them shimmer. It all seems much more exciting than simply some broad beans in pastry. That alone is surely enough reason to Bring Aspic Back? Ah, but then there is the taste...

You Couldn't See Green Cheese But You'd Want It

When I was young there was a phrase that everyone always seemed to say to me when I wanted to try something which they had. 'You couldn't see Green Cheese but you'd want it.' As a phrase it intrigued the curious child in me of course, and I spent many, many years on the look out for Green Cheese. Could I see it? Would I want it? It seemed like it must've been the most elusive of foods, and as a result of constantly being told that I would want it, I inevitably did. It became desirable. My search failed, until now. Fanny always seems to fill in the culinary blanks. Her Green Cheese is also an ice-cream, which is a little unexpected to say the least. Will I want it after all?

Fanny says it's the perfect way to surprise your guests (I bet) while at the same time saving yourself the trouble of working on a finishing course at the time of entertaining. In other words, it is made in advance. It is one of Fanny's own special invented recipes, which came about after Johnnie apparently moaned on about the lack of 'this kind' (can only assume he means cheesy) of ice-cream for many years. I wonder if Fanny just misunderstood and he was repeating the phrase so often said to me? At any rate, Fanny locked herself in the kitchen for what she calls a 'trial and error session' where this recipe emerged and has been used to surprise her guests ever since.

This ice-cream starts of more like a sauce, by making a roux with melted butter, working in the same amount of sifted flour. The roux needs to be cooked for at least two minutes, according to Fanny's trials with error, before being transformed into a sauce with dry white wine. Gradually. Once combined, Fanny adds in single cream. Gradually again. It's quite a glossy sauce at this stage, perfect for adding grated cheese to. Fanny suggests Gruyère and Parmesan, but I substitute the Gruyère for some salty Swedish Västerbotten that I have been enjoying recently. I know that Parmesan is not vegetarian, but it's my choice. I like the taste. I'm a bad vegetarian. If you don't eat it, substitute for something you do, please don't send me nasty letters.

Off the heat, an egg yolk is beaten in and then some double cream. Gradually. You get the idea. Fanny suggests tasting at this stage and 'correcting' the seasoning with salt, pepper and even nutmeg if required. It's quite hard to know what the 'correct' finished product should taste like, but the Västerbotten I think provides enough saltiness and sharpness that no correction is required. It tastes like a cheesy, creamy sauce. It would be perfect with pasta. Fanny's top tip is to 'remember' that freezing diminishes the potency of both sweet and savour flavours, so best to 'err' on the side of generous. Remember Fanny has no doubt tried lots of variations in her 'trial and error' session, so she will know best.

The next error is a fairly major one for Fanny. The recipe just ends here. It's almost as if Fanny has drifted off. What happens next? Luckily for me, and you, Fanny repeats her recipes time and time again throughout the many cookbooks of her career, and this particular gem can be found in the 1970 masterpiece, The Cook Hostess' Book. The missing instructions are simply to divide the mixture into little moulds and freeze until ready for service. Little cones seem appropriate to me. For showing off, Fanny encourages us to transform the appearance of the finished ice-cream from a dull, flatfish cream beige colour with harmless green vegetable colouring, which is much more pleasing to the eye. I do half and half. I half-freeze it before piping and freezing again, I'm really showing off. My eyes are delighted. It's certainly a surprise to the taste-buds too. So next time anyone says that intriguing phrase to you, say proudly 'yes I can, I do and I have, thanks to Fanny!' She'd be thrilled.

The Green Duchess - Perfectly Piped Puréed Potatoes

Fanny is remembered for a few key dishes, not always favourably, but most of all it's her 'green mashed potato' that is mentioned often. And she takes it very seriously indeed. Fanny sees it as a basic skill, one that she comes back to time and time again. And it's no ordinary mash either, but the quite superior Duchess Potato that she favours, which can be used to top any dish of leftovers, including as she says 'that dreadful English traditional cottage pie'. Fanny is, of course, scornful of the way that potatoes are treated in this country - which she notes is normally 'boiling the wretched things to death'. According to the rulings of classic cookery there are 450 ways to treat a potato, but of course Fanny says the only way is to steam them.

For these delightful Duchesses there is much to learn before the steaming commences however, and it's mostly about piping. Fanny demonstrates her piping technique, and shows pictures of her poor assistants, and even Johnnie, in action with the bag and nozzle. The assistants are forced to wear matching outfits and have strict instructions never to look at the camera.

The basic mix is made from steamed potatoes that are then sieved and heated gently in a completely clean dry pan until all the mixture is really dry. This is the key to successful Duchess, moisture is not a friend. Fanny says you may get 'bored bandy' sieving the potatoes, but reassures that it is essential for a good effect. The flabbier the potato if overloaded with moisture, the more frustrated you'll be with your failed piped shapes. Fanny says it's like icing a cake, you must start right from scratch. Far from being bored, I find it quite therapeutic.

To the steamed, sieved, dried potato, seasoning is added, a small amount of softened butter and an egg yolk. I coloured the egg yolk with green gel paste colouring from Wilton's first. Then it's on to shaping! Fanny gives separate and detailed instructions for Gallettes, Doights (fingers), Petits Pyramides, Petits Pains, Brioches, Rosettes Longues and Couronnes. I prefer the piped ones, especially the little pyramids, but try them all. I even add in my own shape (what on earth would Fanny say) in preparation for Valentines Day. Obviously, nothing says 'I Love You' quite like a green mashed potato heart.

Before baking, the piped potatoes need to be brushed with a glaze Anglais. This is strained egg which is beaten with olive oil (I used rapeseed though, I clearly just can't follow Fannys instructions), salt and white pepper. Fanny says this mixture imparts a fine, rich glaze to any savoury substance which needs one. Perfect. All that's left to do is bake until a nice rich brown colour. And still green of course.

They come out looking sensational - at least I think so! Has Fanny finally gotten to me? Will my potatoes forever be green? They look so cheery and colourful, and the piped ones especially just simply made me smile. Definitely no ordinary potato, the Duchess is surely a perfect way to remember Fanny and celebrate her style - go on, grab your food colouring and get piping!

Seven Swans a-Swimming

Televisions across the globe are already full of Christmas cooking shows old and new, but sadly it seems that the brilliant Cradock Cooks for Christmas don't feature in the UK schedules this year. To console myself I am armed with my trustee booklet and will be sharing a series of special posts showcasing their creations. To get us all in the Christmassy mood, as if we need any motivation, Fanny shares another fun idea to get the young ones involved - Edible Swans. Presumably creations based on the other 11 Days of Christmas would push us all over the edge.

The small fry are still not trusted to do any actual cooking of course, it is all about garnish and presentation naturally. Ingredients are eggs and potatoes, all cooked by the parents perhaps? Fanny does urge the young ones to 'go to work on a hard boiled egg' though - by which she isn't echoing the famous advertising slogan but instead wants them to SAFELY do a spot of slicing. Just a sliver from the base lengthwise so that it stands 'steadily' is all that is required at first, followed by two small slices from each side, also lengthwise. Then it's the potatoes. As it's Fanny, she wants them mashed and coloured with harmless food colouring - green of course.

Once they are a lovely, ahem, shade of green they need to go into a piping bag ready for the assembly.

Fanny reassures the young folk if they aren't keen on piping that they can 'fork up' the seasoned mashed potatoes instead, but either way they need to cover the 'saddle' of the swan and start to come down over the cut sides before sticking in the cut bits to make the wings. Another smaller piece of egg slice makes the tail and these little swans are almost ready to swim off. Fanny gives a template for the head and neck, but it's really just a bit of a pipe cleaner shaped like a '2' and pushed into the end of the egg. And there we have it, swans ready to swim and present to your parents while you sing along - and they actually look quite cute. Let's hope no-one asks why on earth they have green feathers...

Pushing the Boat Out - a Trio of Tantalising Tartlets

Fanny gives me her instruction on what an 'individual' savoury tartlet size should be - it's really for me to decide I presume depending on which rather grand occasion I am catering for on which very special evening I am planning. If I am making canapés they should be 'one bite size'. If I am making elegant appetisers, they of course need to be 'two bite size'. The 'three bite size' tartlets are saved for a favourite daily snack time for Fanny that she calls 'omnivorous', which sounds good to me - devouring everything in sight seems to sum me up at the moment.

So, what are these Petits Tartelettes Savoureuses that Fanny is tempting me with today? The first of the trio are Papillions a la Russe, or plain old Savoury Butterflies. Except there is nothing plain about these little lovelies, as you might expect. I choose 'three bite size' tartlet cases and bake blind some of Fanny's savoury paste as before. The only other ingredients are a simple Vegetable Macédoine (which of course Fanny does not explain), some mayonnaise and oh yes, some green food colouring. I wondered when that would make an appearance.

So I chop up into very small cubes some carrots, potatoes, French beans and cook them gently in some butter and oil with garden peas until they are soft. Thank heavens for Google. Then I combine the mayonnaise with a drop or two of green colouring. Fanny recommends using perfectly harmless vegetable colouring, just in case anyone was feeling risky and fancied opting for a toxic animal based variety. 

It's very bright. Just as Fanny would want. Now all I need to do is mix the vegetables with the mayonnaise and fill the pre-baked tartlet case. Oh yeah, and of course, add some butterfly wings made from pastry off cuts. Flutter flutter little tartlets. Have you ever seen butterflies that look like this?

Tartlet number two is a variation on Fanny's suggestion. She recommends Ham and Egg filling, but as a veggie alternative I reach for my trusty Macsweens Veggie Haggis, which I think will work wonderfully. This time the tartlet case is lined with wilted spinach, topped with a slice of lightly fried Veggie Haggis and finished off with an egg 'poached' in a little butter inside a scone cutter, naturally.

The final in this tempting little trio are something Fanny seems very proud of - Petits Bateaux Savoureux. Yes, little Savoury Boats. Fanny tells me that it really is quite inexpensive to pop out and buy some little boat shaped moulds, and it really will be such fun to see them 'sailing' between a plateful of other tartlets. I already have a cupboard groaning with various tins, moulds and cooking paraphernalia so am really not keen to purchase any more, no matter how fun it would be. However I have a cunning plan! I bake some savoury pastry in my Madeleine tin - genius! Why didn't Fanny think of this? For this one I need some of my Macédoine from earlier, some cream cheese, a few processed cheese triangles and some very straight pretzel sticks. I could only find Twiglets.

It's a simple case of mixing the cream cheese with the vegetables, filling the 'boat' pastry case, adding a 'sail' of cheese triangle and then to 'complete the illusion' adding the stick as shown... Watch them little boats sail across my dish! I bet Dynamo himself would be fooled by this particular illusion - expect to see it in his next show.

Fanny reassures me that all of these savoury tartlets are really rather simple to put together - she has entrusted little Sally (who has 'only' been with Johnnie and Fanny for six months instruction at the time of writing) to make and garnish all three all by herself. I assume it's been a very intensive period of six month training for poor little Sally. The finished tartlets are really fun, slightly odd to look at but really quite tasty as ever. So, let's wolf them all down, erm, I mean partake in our daily 'omnivorous' session, quick before the other guests arrive in time for for cocktails and canapés.