A Veggie Mighty Sandwich

Everybody loves a Birthday Cake, don't they? I think we all secretly hope that someone will bake that 'certain cake' that is our very favourite for our special day, but even when it turns out to be chocolate instead of sponge, we are still thrilled. Even when no-one has baked for us, we are often overly overjoyed to bake our own, or pop to the shops and get an off-the-shelf sickly sweet one to share and say to everyone 'ta-dah, it's my birthday!' But what about those 'tiresome menfolk' that Fanny mentions, you know the type. They say that they aren't bothered about cake, and even worse they mean it. What on earth do you make to celebrate their special day?

Fanny, as ever, has the solution. She never does say, but I imagine that dear old Johnnie is the annoying man in question here, who, bizarrely but absolutely does not like cake. Well, a sweet cake at any rate. Fanny reckons that a savoury version is the way forward - namely her Savoury Gateau, which she translates into French as Gâteaux Savoureux, just to avoid any confusion. What man could resist a multi-layered, many flavoured, varicoloured, erm, sandwich disguised as a sweet celebration.

Fanny starts with a humble loaf. Her preference is a cottage style one, or a specially baked brioche. That seems like a lot of bother to go to for an unappreciative bloke, so I make do with a hipster faux-sourdough from the supermarket. It looks like a brick, but with Fanny's advice it's soon trimmed down to fit neatly into a 6-inch cake tin. Off-cuts are blitzed to breadcrumbs and frozen, nothing goes to waste. Fanny practically insists that I slice it 'parallel to the table' into a bare minimum of five slices. She also insists I cut paper-thin slices with ease, and without a serrated-edged 'euphemism' of a bread knife. I need to go to work with a perfectly ordinary, well-sharpened. smooth-edged French knife, seemingly.

I like my bread knife, but Fanny says I must throw it away. Don't tell her, but I can't bear to. I am already paying the price however, as I only manage the cut the loaf into four parallel slices. I am ashamed. It's too late for me to test out if a French knife would've been more successful, but if you try it, let me know. I do take Fanny's advice on slicing technique though - she again insists that I do not grip the loaf while I slice it for fear that it will develop a 'pressed-in waistline' producing the most peculiar-shaped slices. Thank goodness I've done something right. Fanny is only trying to make sure I obtain first-class results with the easiest of methods after all.

Fanny stuffs the layers with all sorts of fillings - fish, if we feel like ringing in the changes; cream cheese if we feel like playing it safe. Either way, each layer should be different, with the addition of other cheeses, eggs, cream, nuts and the all important food colouring to make the biggest impact. Oh dear, Fanny will not be pleased, again, as I opt for colourful beetroots and avocados to obtain the same pink and green layers she does. No artificial colours, this time. I use a mix of quark and cream cheese, whizzing them up in a food processor to make a mousse with my chosen accompaniments. Another layer is just a mix of cheeses. Layers of bread and filling are alternated back into the tin, then the finished cake, once chilled, is 'iced' with mayonnaise and left over filling, before being decorated with piped filing and walnuts. What tiresome man wouldn't be delighted with this, served with a sherry or a beer. I think in future I will opt for both sweet and savoury!

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.

May All Your Oily Balls Turn Out Like Howards + Book Giveaway

Innuendo. The Fanny Cradock Cookery Programme is full of it. Filthy Fanny, she always has her tongue firmly in her cheek and her ever-higher eyebrows raised as she is writing. You've probably noticed already. It's everywhere in the baking world these days. The whispering mucky undertones have become overt in the Great British Bake Off with Mary Berry trying to steal Fanny's crown. Insinuation King Howard Middleton's new book, Delicious Gluten Free Baking, is full of double entendre too. "Ah yes," Howard tells me "it's a vital part of the secret Bake Off audition process - the innuendo challenge - I did rather well in that!" Future applicants take note...

Fanny had over 40 cookbooks published during her lifetime, dear old Howard doesn't seem daunted by this as his first hits the shelves. "It's very exciting! Writing the book was enjoyable, at times frustrating, and absolutely exhausting. I had to be very disciplined to do it alongside working full-time and I'm not a naturally disciplined person. Another 39 could be a bit too ambitious I think." Well, Fanny's final cookbook was called The Ambitious Cook so aim high Howard!

Howard's book is hilarious to read, just as Howard himself was on Bake Off, but is jammed with fantastic sounding recipes that everyone will crave, whether they are following a gluten-free diet or not. Howards aim was to create recipes that people miss, and I think he's cracked it. Fanny had a cookbook for almost everything, even one about Foil Cookery, so I'm sure she'd have approved. "For some people it's a necessity so can't be a fad, but for those who don't have dietary restrictions I see it as discovering new and usual ingredients that are naturally gluten free. Learning from other cuisines and cultures has always influenced what we eat. Oh, I've just done a search online for Fanny's book of foil cookery, my life may not be complete without it!" Research for book two Howard? But please, stop Googling while we are chatting...

There are so many recipes I want to make in the book, but there is one that I had to make straight away in Fanny's honour. Doughnuts. Dutch ones, Oliebollen, or Oily Balls as Howard refers to them, allegedly this is the Dutch translation. Mucky. I told you he was innuendo obsessed. Or is it me? The recipe is easy to follow, and in between giggles I get my deep-fat fryer on the go ready for these gluten-less bready balls of joy speckled with dried apple and raisins. They turn out light and golden, with fluffy centres... Just as Fanny said hers should be, just as you'd expect doughnuts to be!

What would Fanny reckon to these doughnuts? "I remember her as a wonderfully trenchant character, barking at Johnnie and her audience with dogged aplomb. She was also one of the icons in that transition from black and white TV to colour (I'm now feeling very old), with her vibrant clothes and make-up... and vivid food! And your blog reminds us of that, with hors d'oeuvres of blue eggs and the multi-coloured cartwheel trifle! I do have a weakness for that sense of style - the book has a recipe for Snowball Cocktail Cakes, which is my boozy, kitsch homage to my late great aunt, Auntie Olive's unique approach to baking, and the lure of her drinks cabinet. I hope Fanny would approve." Booze, kitsch, vividness? Of course she would! I do love a Snowball too, must bake these tout de suite! And everything else...

Fanny had Johnnie, Mary has Paul, Mel's got Sue, but who would be Howard's dream sidekick, apart from Fanny obviously? "I think Fanny would've made mincemeat of me!" Omelette of course. "I have to say my partner, Peter, is my dream sidekick don't I? I recently did a demo at the Bakewell Baking Festival and he kept popping up just off stage when I needed a bowl or a spoon or something. My sister and young nieces were in the audience - she was explaining to them that we were like Fanny and Johnnie!" So maybe the 40-book deal isn't so far way? "I'm fairly easy going. I never expected half the opportunities that have come along, so I'll continue to go with the flow. I've got lots of demos coming up, and I'd love to do some more writing. Fingers crossed the future is as bright as a Fanny frock!" Wink. Raise eyebrow. Look knowingly. Innuendos at the ready? Bake!

Thanks to Howard for being lovey and answering my questions! Howard's publisher, Little, Brown sent me a preview copy of Howards book, Delicious Gluten Free Baking, to enjoy and one for me to giveaway... Simply leave me a blog post comment telling me what bake you'd like to make Gluten Free and fill in the rafflecopter thingy-me-jig which will select the winner! Good luck!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Johnnies' Jugs of Joe

Fanny noted that back in the 1970's more and more people in Britain were becoming converted to coffee and those that weren't simply hadn't had the fortune to taste the real thing. If all you'd had was the 'boiled soot or beige dill water' which average catering establishments substitute for 'real coffee' then how could you possibly be expected to savour the flavour? And isn't it very complicated to make?  Are you scared off from tackling coffee in the first place by 'so called experts' waffling on about it? Perhaps you don't have a coffee making pot? What if that expert was no other than Johnnie himself showing how to make perfect coffee everytime, without much fancy equipment, in a pic-strip? Perfect!

Fanny and Johnnie don't want to recommend any particular type of coffee, but do stipulate a few basic rules to ensure that we can all enjoy a perfect cup. Never economise on the amount of coffee you use, the flavour will only suffer. If you buy ground coffee instead of freshly ground beans you will end up with an inferior flavour. Coffee, back in the 70's, was a luxury item, ideal for this time of year, and basically you need to splash out to justify your expenditure. Johnnie says it's common sense.

I feel like I'm recreating a scene from Trainspotting as Johnnie insists I lay out a small jug, some tin foil and a spoon in readiness for my 'real' coffee experience. According to Johnnie, this is the method used to make coffee in France, so it must be the best. The instructions are simple - place the coffee in the jug and pour over just boiled water, stir thoroughly and cover with the foil as a lid. Leave it alone for 3 or 4 minutes, before pouring it through a sieve into a coffee pot. Drink, with extreme pleasure.

It's quite a ceremony really. The finished coffee tasted weak to me, perhaps I've scrimped on the quantity of beans I've ground? It tastes good, I'm surprised, but no punch. But wait, this is everyday coffee, Johnnie has a few more tricks up his sleeve to help me enjoy a stronger brew.

The first is a perfect after dinner coffee. First pour just boiled water over ground coffee in a small pan. Johnnie specifies a copper pan, but sadly no such thing of beauty appeared under my tree this Christmas. Turn up the heat until the mixture seethes to the rim. Remove from the heat until it subsides, them repeat this three times. Once entirely seethed (presumably the coffee and not me) turn off the heat and (if you are being economical) add 1 or 2 drops of ice cold water to drive the grounds to the base of the pan. If however you are striving for perfection, add 3 or 4 drops of rose water. Well, Johnnie promised the perfect coffee, so it had to be rose water for me. We are not finished there though. While the coffee cools completely, a vanilla pod is popped in. Once cool, that is removed and the coffee sieved and heated up again, to just about boiling. Never boiling, just below. And voila, the perfect after dinner coffee. It's a little stronger, and the rose and vanilla give a good taste. Presumably your guests will have given up waiting by this time of course and may have gone home.

If you fancy hanging on your guests you could always serve them the most extravagant and luxurious coffee in the world. Quite a claim! It's a Café Brûlot, and Johnnie says is highly impressive after-dinner, quickly and easily made. Phew! In a flame proof vessel, place sugar, orange rind and a vanilla pod. Muddle them together. Gently heat some brandy (always the least expensive available to you), pour it over and set it alight. Oooh, pretty blue flames. It's tempting to just look at the flames for a while, and I assume dinner guests would be ooh-ing and aah-ing too, but really they should be put out by pouring piping hot coffee on them. Strain and serve the coffee as it is - NEVER with sugar or cream. It's lovely actually, really strongly flavoured and a kick of brandy. Perfect.

So there we go, three ways to make a perfect coffee at home. Simple, impressive and extravagant. The final recommendation from the Cradocks despite what they said is to invest in a coffee making pot, which they just happen to be selling to you as a special offer in this issue. It's proper Italian and includes full instructions on how to use it, so you could just ignore all Johnnies advice really. Fanny obviously does. My heads buzzing from all the coffee and jiggery-pokery. Happy New Year everyone, hope that 2015 is a good one. 

Corkscrewed! Uh-oh, Johnnie's on the wine...

In each partwork, a double page spread is given to Fanny's husband Johnnie to pass on his expertise and suggestions for wine. In this edition though we start with the basics - what is a corkscrew and how do you use one? Johnnie gives a brief history of the corkscrew - a bigger mystery than the Marie Celeste seemingly - before insisting that we don't use a particular kind. The one we should never use is of course called an 'ordinary' corkscrew with a single thread. These monsters will mean you'll have to grip the bottle of wine between your knees, stick your 'behind' out and generally adopt a posture not becoming of fine wine. Johnnie demonstrates.

Johnnie does note that there are 'others' who have behinds of comparable dimensions to his own - do you think he dares to mean Fanny? Anyway, fear not as Johnnie has the corkscrew solution - a 'superior' type with a two threads. These turn in opposite directions simultaneously ensuring the cork is drawn with ease, and in a much more pleasant posture. Again, Johnnie demonstrates.

My own note would be that the facial expressions Johnnie adopts are optional. 

So, if you now know which corkscrew to buy - the most expensive you can afford apparently - and are looking for a detailed pic-strip to show you how to open your wine - which again will be the most expensive you can afford - worry not, as Johnnie is here to help.

The only corkscrews I have are those nasty little single threaders so I am unable to compare the results, or the posture, but I've always found them to be fine. Honestly though I've never considered if my behind sticks out too much while opening a cheeky bottle of red, clearly I have my priorities all wrong. I wonder what Johnnie would make of the rise of screw caps over corkscrews... Anyway as Johnnie says 'Cork Away!' - is it wine time yet?