Hapi.i.ii.e New Year!

Last year I resolved to make pastry, try my hand at bread and learn to knit properly. Let's just say I didn't. This year I've ditched resolutions in preference for 'intentions'...


Partly because my last-minute Hogmanay shopping found the pastry shelf all puffed-out and as I recall, the last and only time I bought shortcrust, I may as well have blind-baked the cardboard box; my neglected resolution looked destined to become a reality at some point before dinner-time next year.


Later that night, having explained my predicament to my fellow revellers, I left the party with a copy of The Cordon Bleu Cookery Book in my arm and the hope that plain flour, cold hands and enlightenment may greet me with the new dawn. 


And as the sun set on 1.1.11, I have to admit to being more than a little puffed-up with the result (despite the possible pastry shrinkage and an ill fitting pie dish, as featured) for there was nothing too shabby about my rough puff. S'long Just-Rol...


Turkey and bacon pi.i.ii.e

leftover cooked turkey, enough for two but roughly 200g

70g bacon lardons

fennel, approx. half a small bulb

125g mushrooms

2 rounded tbsp plain flour

4 or 5 ladels of turkey stock (a Kallo chicken cube’ll do)

a teaspoon of rosemary needles, chopped

a small bunch of parsley, chopped

1 tbsp mushroom ketchup (a tasty option)

Fry the bacon, fennel and mushrooms in a little butter until bacon has lightly coloured and vegetables are softened.

Add the flour to pan with a little stock (if necessary) and cook for a couple of minutes, stirring all the time. Add the rosemary and cooked turkey to the pan, heat for a minute more before adding the rest of the stock. Bring to a simmer and leave to bubble for ten minutes. Add the parsley, season with salt, pepper and mushroom ketchup and pour into a pie dish.

Ideally the pie filling should be level the rim of your pie dish, but if it is pilled slightly higher, then all the better. If your dish is a little too small, use a pie funnel or an upturned egg cup to prevent your pastry from collapsing in the middle.

Dampen the rim of the pie dish with a little water and lay on strips of pastry, pressing the joins together. Dab a little water on the pastry rim and lay on the pastry lid. Fork the edges to seal, cut a hole to allow steam to escape and brush with milk before baking.

Place in a hot oven (200˚C) for 30 minutes.

and for the crowning glory... [with interjections from moi]

Rough Puff Pastry (I)

½ lb plain flour

6oz butter

about ¼ pint ice-cold water to mix

Sift the flour with a pinch of salt into a mixing bowl. Cut the butter into even-sized pieces about the size of walnuts and drop into the flour; mix quickly with the water and turn onto a lightly floured board. [I used a knife for the mixing] *Roll to an oblong, fold in three, and give a half-turn to bring the open edges in front of you.* Repeat from * to * twice to give the pastry three turns in all. [this bit was such fun, I lost count] Chill for 10 minutes and give an extra roll and fold if it looks all streaky [it didn't but I did], then use as required.

The Cordon Bleu Cookery Book by Rosemary Hume and Muriel Downes, Book Club Associates, London, 1975.

meh peh

I paid a wee visit to my hometown last week and no visit to Dundee would be complete without wrapping my wallies around one of these and partaking of the opportunity to thicken my arteries at the same time. Bingo!


Meh peh, (for those of you requiring translation that's "my pie" in Dundonian) was purchased from Bayne's on Crichton Street - an irregular choice some may say. Although the crust lacked the delicate crispy bite of an A1 specimen the filling sure made up for it. Unctuously meaty and delicious, my pie ranneth-over with greasy-juices which I deftly saved from dribbling down my skirt. I still got the moves y'ken.

thinking bad thoughts

I've taken my good old time to share this with you...

Well, the thought came to me one sublimely ordinary afternoon. There I was, making a wee cup of tea and a little 'something' to keep my pedal foot peddling and that presser-foot pressing (sweat-shop talk). I figured a couple of wee digestives with banana-on-top would be just the right kinda old-school treat. 

[CUE eerie strings] So, I took a McVitie's from the tin, un-peeled a banana and just as I reached for the butter dish, a terrible notion came over me. As if guided by some inner demon I opened the fridge door and drifted towards it's chilly glow. My hand reach out for the jar of Bonne Maman Confiture de Caramel!   [CUE duh duh duhh!]  I tried. I tried with all my strength to put it back. "No!" I said "Get tae Waitrose - I don't need you - I can live without you!" But I was in it's clutches - it had me and pretty soon, I had the double cream. And lo the lazy-girls-banoffee-travel-pie was born!!!

So easy it makes me wonder why anyone went to the effort of making an actual PIE pie at all? A couple of digestives spread with caramel (you don't need me to tell you how thick to spread it now do you?), a few slices of banana and a blanket of lightly whipped double cream. Ta. Da. On my first attempt, I just poured the cream on. That went everywhere. So, for purely technical reasons - I'd whip it a little.

To be honest, I hadn't thought much of the good mother's caramel goo until then. I actually bought it for the jar (I have an, aherm, collection). It's pants on toast (don't waste your time) but redeemed itself when I plastered it on some left over puff pastry, layered a thinly sliced apple, scattered on a handful of raisins, a dusting of cinnamon and laid a straggly lattice of pastry trimmings over the top. Oh and baked it. That was rather good.


The secret, I think is to add Bonne Maman Confiture de Caramel to something slightly sweet already (croissants, brioche mibby?) as although it is richly caramel-y it's actually not TOO sweet. I wonder what the French would do? Dear reader - I intend to find out!