Tak Gud för Rødgrød

When I was growing up, the only mention of any food which was remotely Scandinavian came via the Swedish Chef on the Muppets, and I couldn't exactly follow what he was on about. Could anyone? Fanny Cradock was on it though, travelling to Scandi countries since the 1950s and bringing back the essential recipes she found to inspire us. No hurdy-gurdy. Even she struggled with the linguistics though, so the Muppet-gibberish would not have helped. Thankfully, she tells us, nearly everyone in Denmark speaks a little English.

Fanny always found the Danes courteous, immensely friendly, sun-loving and somewhat, erm, gay. She found the country intensely clean, kitchens, for example, were spotless, which had the added bonus for travellers wearing white clothes. They could be worn again the next day, and sometimes even for a third. Even mens cuffs stayed grime free. She noted that Danish people were very colour-conscious, using it with boldness and imagination. So when it came to anything from home décor to food garnish, life was a brisk little harlequinade. It's the home of Hans Christian Andersen after all, so we shouldn't be surprised.

Fanny says you simply must eat Danish food. Done correctly, it is most definitely not a punishment. Oh, unless you sample their soi-disant 'French Cuisine', which is terrible. She says it is just about as French as the spelling on her own French menus (at last, she admits it!) and far more expensive than good Danish dishes. Eating the Danish way means enjoying a large luncheon, and for women especially, plenty of cake washed down with copious amounts of coffee and gossip, all enjoyed with a cigar. Sounds perfect!

Fanny brings us her very favourite Rødgrød, or Scandinavian Red Currant and Raspberry Pudding, back from Denmark this time. I love red currants. I love black ones and white too, just to be clear. It's just not quite the season for them. Thankfully I found some frozen in the supermarket, unfortunately mixed with blackberries and blackcurrants. I say unfortunately as I had to spend more time than I cared to separating them for this recipe. Fanny 'emulsifies' them together, I mush them through a sieve, add the pulp back in and give them a good mix. I'm sure that's what she means.

To make the Rødgrød pudding, Fanny covers the bottom of a saucepan with water, brings it to a boil and flings in the emulsified mushed fruit, stirring until it bubbles. She then sweetens it to taste. To transform the mush to miracle, she mixes some potato flour with a little water and shoots it in, stirring well. The fruit mush immediately becomes a glossy, thick. jam-like jelly, glistening in the pan. It must be transferred to a glass serving dish without haste, and chilled before enjoying. Fanny recommends pouring it over a silver spoon to avoid any cracking, and serving with the more affordable whipping cream instead of the expensive double stuff. Take a seat, get your gossip straight and gibbersih-free and pull out your cigars... It's a glorious pud.

She Wore A Raspberry Beret

Fanny wants us to play 'lets pretend' with her for a moment, as she introduces a 'new' concept to our culinary catalogue. Alcohol. It can be added to food in cooking you know. Please don't look shocked. Please just smile and nod along with Fanny as if you have never raided the cocktail cabinet before in your life. Please never ever let it be known that you've succumbed to the 'one slosh in the pot, one for the cook' philosophy of kitchen capers. So, alcohol in your food, eh, what a grand idea! Fanny thinks it to be a particularly appropriate addition for ice-cream.

Fanny recommends a straightforward Crème de Cacao or Tia Maria to pair with Chocolate. Brandy goes well with coffee, as you might expect. And so Orange Curaçao with Orange Ice Cream. No surprises there, and no stretch on your booze stash. However if your ice cream is Almond flavoured, Fanny suggests Ratafia. For Strawberry her recommendation is Eau de Vie des Fraises. Raspberry requires Bénédictine. My cocktail cabinet is starting to feel rather inadequate. Fanny has a solution - stock up on baby bottles of booze, just one miniature at a time of course as prices are so appalling, scraping the costs together from your stretched household budget and therefore bit by bit building up an 'adequate' range. I'll continue pretending as I place a large on-line order for full bottles.

Fanny's marvellously modern idea for ice-cream is multi-layered and moulded. She has an array of historic moulds - china, tin and cooper. She also has a selection that she refers to as the 'make do' moulds, which she suggests may be what we use at home. These include cake tins, loaf tins and savarin rings. I have a rather charming little china ring mould though so do not need to stoop to the mere domestic level, just yet. For added fancy, Fanny insists that we make 'composite' ice-creams in layers, laced with our new-found knowledge of booze. Let's not let the pretence slip... Oh what a smashing idea!

I have some of Fanny's foundation ice cream already in the freezer. Made simply with whipped cream, folded in custard, and a touch of vanilla, before freezing, ready to be retrieved at short notice and flavoured up as required. Fanny suggests three layers of ice cream, but I, perhaps fuelled with the courage of alcohol, break rank and insist on only two. To half I add a spoonful of freeze dried Raspberry Powder which I picked up from Spice Mountain on my last trip to Borough Market. To the other half, some Pistachio Paste I bought from Sous Chef. The raspberry needs no additional colouring, but the pistachio benefits from a little harmless vegetable green-ness. I don't have Bénédictine (yet) but Fanny recommends Maraschino to go with Pistachio, so in it goes! Sparingly, this is Fanny's key to success. Swig.

Fanny's top tip for moulds is to burnish them hard and carefully with oil before filling. To un-mould once frozen, hold upside down under a very hot tap before placing on your chosen dish, shaking it vigorously and 'hey presto', out it comes. Sort of. Fanny reminds us to re-freeze the un-moulded ice cream on the serving plate until required (tented in foil) to be taken out when serving the main course. Otherwise folks will never get their forks through it. The finished ring of joy is a tempting triumph, tasty and a thrill for the eyes. Not like those 'revolting' Italian trifles such as Zuppa Inglese that Fanny hates so much, drenched in dollops of very crude Italian liqueurs such as Strega. Fanny's restraint is, she notes, a financial as well as a gastronomic consolation. Johnnie rates her ice-creams as Three Stars, in Michelin terms. Perhaps he's been hitting the booze too. Slosh. Quaff. Guzzle.

Can my icing skills matcha Fannys?

Fanny is not to know, but I've never been any good at icing and decorating cakes. I'm quite artistic, and love 'creating' things but when it comes to icing I just go to pieces. I can't do modelling, and am only just starting to master piping, thanks to Fannys instructions for potatoes of course. Fanny wants me to learn not only to ice, but to pipe a trellis design on to a cake. Eeek. In the partwork she gets everyone involved, even poor Johnnie is shown trellising away, it so easy apparently. Diligent assistant Dianne does the hard work on the cake though. It looks perfect of course, and Fanny says if I follow suit, so will mine. I am not convinced, just putting it out there. Before I can ice a cake I need to bake one, and Fanny recommends her close textured sponge for the job, which she also calls Recette Fanny, which presumably means it's her own recipe?

It's made using half flour and half cornflour, which is a new one on me, but I'm happy to try. Fanny recommends that the sponge itself be flavoured before baking and suggests coffee, orange, lemon, strawberry or raspberry if it's summertime. Well, it was sunny at the weekend, so for Edinburgh that counts as summer - raspberry it is. Let's not mention that it's been dull again today. Before I begin I have to sift the flour and cornflour onto a square of greaseproof paper, twice. But how much? 

Fanny asks me to weigh the eggs to determine the quantities - I need as much flour and cornflour as weight of eggs, and the same of sugar and butter. Twitter helped me out with this one - I wasn't sure whether to weigh the eggs in their shells or not... Seems it doesn't really matter, but in shells won. So the butter gets creamed, sugar added and creamed again, a small amount of the flour mix flung in and the eggs added one by one. Finally the rest of the flour is beaten in before the chosen flavour is added, or some milk if you fancy it 'plain'. Fanny always give the 'plain' option but makes it sound so dull and ordinary that everyone must leap straight you the flavours. For my raspberry flavour I need to sieve a punnet and add the same amount of juice as would've been milk. It's not as complicated as it sounds, just new to me. The batter is pink. 

The sponge bakes well and comes out the oven fairly flat on top and risen well. Presumably this is why it makes a good sponge for decoration? Fanny makes her buttercream using an egg yolk, which again is not something I've done before, and she adds an appropriate flavouring. Fanny did hers with coffee, but I wonder if some lovely Green Matcha Tea would be a better match with the raspberries? And surely Fanny would approve of the colour? The buttercream is dolloped on the underside which becomes the top (just to ensure it's perfectly smooth), flattened down with a spatula and placed in the fridge to set.

Fanny gives very loose instructions for her glacé icing - basically mix icing sugar with a chosen flavouring until it is the right consistency! It's quite hard when you are hoping to learn what that consistency is... I have some raspberry syrup, so set to mixing it up until it's 'pourable but thick' which is Fannys only clue. Again, Fanny shows how it runs over the cake but needs to be teased a little with a spatula dipped in hot water. I think I made mine too runny, it just won't stop. Fanny finishes her recette with a trellis of icing, and I choose to make this with Matcha powder too, just for fun. Fanny says that 'her way' totally eliminates the danger of picking up any spare cake crumbs when applying the icing. That is true, not a crumb in sight! There is a cake under their I promise, but I think I need a little more practice. Or perhaps ice the cake on a rack first then transfer to a board?