Rhubarb and rose pavlova
10 April 2017
Rhubarb and Rose Linzer Biscuits
26 January 2017
I've lost track of the number of time that I have sat down to write this post over the past few weeks. I'd like to blame writers block, that glamourous state of apparent blankness which has, I'm told, birthed many of the great literary works of the modern world.
Safe to say I have not been teetering on the edge of anything remotely groundbreaking. I'm just busy. And hard as I find it to admit, I'm struggling a little bit.
RHUBARB ROSE WATER POSSET
4 February 2016
But in the bleakness of January and February, delicate forced rhubarb comes to the fore. Traditionally grown in Yorkshire by candlelight, this variety is denied the sunlight that nourishes its wild relation. Encased in darkness then 'forced' out of the ground with artificial light, the result is a more slender, pinker and sweeter version of this wonderful plant.
As for this recipe - it's simple, elegant, pretty and delicious. My mum's go to dinner party pudding was always lemon syllabub, and these pastel pink possets are a seasonal version of the classic.
THE INGREDIENTS
150g forced rhubarb
150ml water
75g caster sugar
250ml double cream
1 tsp rose water
1/2 a lemon, juiced
Trim the ends away from the rhubarb, and cut the stalks into 3cm batons. Arrange in the base of a saucepan, sprinkle with 25g of the caster sugar, then pour over the water. Gently bring to the boil over a medium heat, then simmer for 10-15 minutes. Remove from the heat when the rhubarb is soft and pink throughout, and the liquid has reduced to a thick, pink syrup. Leave to cool.
Pour the cream and the remaining sugar into a milk pan, mix, then bring to the boil. Allow it to bubble for a few seconds, then reduce the heat and simmer for 2-3 minutes. Remove from the heat.
Drain 75ml of syrup from the rhubarb, then add this to the cream along with the rose water and lemon juice. Mix quickly, then pour the cream into 3-4 ramekins. Leave to set in the fridge for 3-4 hours. Serve topped with the rhubarb and a drizzle of the remaining syrup.
HONEY ROSE FRIANDS
6 June 2015
This week, I found myself phoneless for a few days and, I am ashamed to admit, experienced the damning realisation that I am hook, line and sinker dependent on my iPhone. I went 24 hours - yes, just one day - without a phone, and the stress levels experienced were nothing short of embarrassing.
Having given up the ghost one evening this week, my poor phone sat on my dressing table as I vaguely suggested that I'd take it to the Apple store. My initial nonchalance quickly dispersed as I went to set my alarm... on my iPhone. Cue a 5.45am wake up call by my lovely and very gracious flatmate who was heading out for her café shift.
Despite my early start, I realised with a cloud of utter panic that my carefully laid plans to meet my friend to catch a train together relied on WhatsApp. Several desperate Facebook messages later, a plan B was in place.
Bag packed to go, I go to check the weather... on my phone. Oh right. No bother - it doesn't look like rain. Cue an absolute soaking en route to the tube. I arrive at my tube station to a foray of announcements about emergency works and, the absolute worst, rail replacement bus services. This line is closed - how have I missed this? Shoot, because my daily TFL updates are going to an inbox I can't access.
It's fine, I say to myself, totally fine. I'll just check the best way to get to Kings Cross without this line. *Reaches for iPhone, nearly cries.*
I could go on, but it's boring for you and embarrassing for me, so I'll save everyone the discomfort. 24 hours of smartphone-sobriety was undoubtedly stressful, but also really illuminating. How is it that I, a professional 23 year old woman, can't cope without the little computer I carry around in my pocket? Have I lost the ability to think through problems by myself?
Perhaps the answer to this question is, well, yes. It's a scary thought, by it's certainly made me take stock of my relationship with my phone, and the technology that surrounds me more broadly. There are so many surveys and reports revealing that we spend too much time on our phones, but it was my own digital detox (if you will) that's brought this home to me.
We're so busy checking in on everyone's lives, and it's easy to forget to step back, take stock and unwind without a screen beneath our noses. I made these honey and rose friands to calm myself during the phone crisis. I'm not necessarily suggesting you do the same, but I do think you should make them, and not just because they're delicious. Make them because you'll feel calm, and the people you care about will love you. And, you know, they might make a pretty Instagram picture.
Having given up the ghost one evening this week, my poor phone sat on my dressing table as I vaguely suggested that I'd take it to the Apple store. My initial nonchalance quickly dispersed as I went to set my alarm... on my iPhone. Cue a 5.45am wake up call by my lovely and very gracious flatmate who was heading out for her café shift.
Despite my early start, I realised with a cloud of utter panic that my carefully laid plans to meet my friend to catch a train together relied on WhatsApp. Several desperate Facebook messages later, a plan B was in place.
Bag packed to go, I go to check the weather... on my phone. Oh right. No bother - it doesn't look like rain. Cue an absolute soaking en route to the tube. I arrive at my tube station to a foray of announcements about emergency works and, the absolute worst, rail replacement bus services. This line is closed - how have I missed this? Shoot, because my daily TFL updates are going to an inbox I can't access.
It's fine, I say to myself, totally fine. I'll just check the best way to get to Kings Cross without this line. *Reaches for iPhone, nearly cries.*
I could go on, but it's boring for you and embarrassing for me, so I'll save everyone the discomfort. 24 hours of smartphone-sobriety was undoubtedly stressful, but also really illuminating. How is it that I, a professional 23 year old woman, can't cope without the little computer I carry around in my pocket? Have I lost the ability to think through problems by myself?
Perhaps the answer to this question is, well, yes. It's a scary thought, by it's certainly made me take stock of my relationship with my phone, and the technology that surrounds me more broadly. There are so many surveys and reports revealing that we spend too much time on our phones, but it was my own digital detox (if you will) that's brought this home to me.
We're so busy checking in on everyone's lives, and it's easy to forget to step back, take stock and unwind without a screen beneath our noses. I made these honey and rose friands to calm myself during the phone crisis. I'm not necessarily suggesting you do the same, but I do think you should make them, and not just because they're delicious. Make them because you'll feel calm, and the people you care about will love you. And, you know, they might make a pretty Instagram picture.
THE INGREDIENTS
125g butter
125g ground almonds
5 egg whites
100g flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
125g icing sugar
2 tbsp. honey
glaze
100g icing sugar
1 tsp rose water
rose petals
THE RECIPE
Preheat your oven to 160C, and melt the butter. Using a pastry brush, use a little of the butter to grease your friend moulds. Set the remaining butter aside.
Measure the egg whites into a large bowl, and whisk a little until frothy but not yet in soft peaks. Add the ground almonds, flour, baking powder, icing sugar and honey, and fold to combine. Add the melted butter, beat, then leave to rest for 30 minutes.
Once rested, measure into your buttered moulds. Bake for 15-20 minutes, until pale but cooked and springy to the touch. Allow to cool for a few minutes, then remove to a wire rack and allow to cool completely.
For the glaze, combine the icing sugar and rose water and, if needed, add an additional teaspoon or two of water to loosen. Drizzle over the cooled friands, and decorate with dried rose petals.
PISTACHIO, ROSE AND WHITE CHOCOLATE CAKE
20 January 2015
Firstly, welcome to the new look Pudding Lane! I hope you like it. It felt like a good time for a little makeover and, if nothing else, redesigning this page distracted me from a rather drastic haircut that I briefly considered. Note to self: a fringe is not just for Christmas.
I hope that the new layout will make it a little easier to find your way around, access the recipes you're looking for and get in touch with me using the social icons on the right. You can also search my archives, have a sneak peak of my latest Instagram snaps and even sign up to get new posts straight to your inbox. Things aren't quite perfect yet, but it's really excited to have a little refresh around here.
It's been bitter cold in London this week - the kind of cold where you're still chilly no matter how many layers and scarves you throw on. I'm already seeking some summer sun, and have found myself drawn to middle eastern recipes of late, full of gilded colour and warming spices.
This cake makes me think of Arabia, Aladdin, Turkish Delight and gooey, sweet Baklava. The white chocolate, while not authentic perhaps, brings a rich, luxurious sweetness which finishes the moist sponge perfectly.
A quick note on the recipe. I find that the best sponge results from using exactly equal weights of butter, sugar, eggs and flour. The best way to do this is to weigh your eggs in their shells, note this down, and then use equal quantities of each core ingredient. I use large Happy Eggs as they're rich and delicious, but any egg will do - just make sure you keep it consistent, people.
THE INGREDIENTS
3 eggs, weighed in their shells
equal quantities of
butter
caster sugar
plain flour
2 tsp baking powder
100g pistachios
2 tsp rose water
1 tbsp icing sugar
100g white chocolate
100g double cream
dried rose petals
THE RECIPE
Begin by toasting your pistachios. Place the nuts in a small frying pan, and toast over a medium heat until the nuts are brown and fragrant. Remove from the heat and set aside. Line a 6" cake tin with baking parchment, and preheat your oven to 180C.
Ensure all your cake ingredients are at room temperature. Weigh the eggs in their shells (they will likely weigh between 150g and 200g), note down the weight, and set aside. Weigh out this amount of butter and caster sugar, and cream together until light and fluffy. Crack in the eggs, whisk to combine, then weigh out an equal amount of flour. Sieve into the bowl along with the baking powder, and mix to combine.
Set aside 25g of pistachios to decorate your cake, then crush up the remaining nuts using a rolling pin. Add to the cake batter, mix, then spoon into your lined tin and baking in the centre of the oven for 25-35 minutes until golden and cooked. Cool in the tin for ten minutes, then turn out onto a cooling rack and allow to cool until just warm.
While your cake is cooling, mix the rose water and icing sugar with 2 tsp water. When the cake is just warm, carefully slice it in half. Brush the rose syrup over each exposed half of the cake. Leave to cool completely.
To make the ganache filling and topping, pour the cream into a small saucepan and gently bring to the boil. Break the chocolate up into a bowl. Once the cream is just starting to boil, remove from the heat and gentle pour over the chocolate. Stir gently until the chocolate is melted and you have a smooth, glossy ganache. Leave to cool in the fridge until it is moderately firm.
Once ready, spread half of the ganache over one sponge half, sandwich the second on top, and finish with the remaining ganache. Decorate with the remaining pistachios and a sprinkle of rose petals.
