The Homemade Heart

Year in books: April

Joining in Laura's 'The Year in Books' project over at 'Circle of Pine Trees', my book this month is 'The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake' by Aimee Bender.

Written in 2011, it concerns Rose Edelstein, who, on the eve of her 9th birthday,

" bites into her mother's homemade lemon-chocolate cake and discovers that she can taste her mother's emotions in the slice"

I found it whilst browsing in a local charity shop last week, and was immediately intrigued. I like books with a magical feel, and I think baking is an emotional touchstone (in some hippy-non-specific-flawed-logic way that wouldn't stand up to questioning by Jeremy Paxman). The idea of bringing these together in one slim volume had me heading to the cashpoint (and passing, with a sigh of regret, a 'Midwinter' dinner service in blue and aqua). 

This is my first month joining in with Laura's book project. It is easy to join, and I have already visited some of the other participating blogs, so it is well worth a visit of you have never looked. Some great book recommendations too, which I will be following up.

 

 

 

very pretty when decorated with a bright ribbon.

I absolutely love Christmas; the anticipation, planning, food, gifts, tree, decorations, atmosphere, late night shopping, last minute dashes and midnight parcel wrapping. And though I join in with the annual lip pursing and head shaking when tins of festive biscuits and wrapping paper appear in the shops before hallowe'en, secretly, I'm thrilled.

However, when Easter comes round there is something very appealing about the unstressy purchase of a few chocolate eggs, a little relaxed baking, and the pleasant task of gathering a few twigs to make an Easter tree. 

This year, as in years past,as well as the ubiquitous eggs for children, I made lemon curd to give to family and friends for Easter. It is a gorgeous colour, easy to make, creamily delicious, and the finished jars are very pretty when decorated with a bright ribbon. Perfect for spreading on toasted hot cross buns for Easter Sunday breakfast (for those who are not gorging themselves on chocolate).

 

The recipe I use is from Leiths Baking Bible. It calls for the juice and zest of the lemons, but I dislike zest in lemon curd so I leave it out. 

Prior to making the lemon curd I sterilise the jars (see notes here if you're not sure). I also sterilise the lids, the sieve, and scald the jug or bowl I will decant the curd into. I leave the jars to dry in a low oven whilst I make the curd. A jam funnel is helpful but not essential.

The recipe below produces 1lb of jam, and can be multiplied as desired, but I would not recommend that more than 3lb is tackled in one batch; it starts to become slightly unmanageable in very large quantities. It keeps well in the fridge for 2-3 weeks.

Ingredients

Juice of 2 large lemons.

85g butter 

225g caster sugar

3 large eggs, lightly beaten.

Method

Place all ingredients together in a heavy based pot, over a medium heat (if the mixture is cooked over too high a heat, it can lose its creamy consistency and become grainy). Stir constantly for 10-15 minutes. Vigilance pays off; the mixture will turn suddenly from liquid to a curd consistency.

Remove from heat, and strain through a sieve to remove the strands of cooked egg white that will have inevitably formed, taking care not to rub them through the sieve.

Decant into the sterilised jars, screw the lids on tightly and cool in the fridge. Write label and tie with ribbon. 

 

pot of tea also essential

 

As I have mentioned before, Derek occasionally requests some home baking to take to business meetings. Last Friday he requested scones. Although these are supposedly an easy option, quick to mix and bake, I've always felt that their homely appearance belies the whiff of baking sorcery required to get them just right. 'I can't even make a scone', is often the rueful admission of many a novice baker, but in all honesty I would start any home baking career with a sponge cake; banana loaf or  biscuits, rather than the temperamental scone. 

Prior to the advent of the ubiquitous home freezer, women would often keep a quantity of the 'rubbed in' mixture in a screw top jar in a cool place  (then in later years  in the fridge), ready for visitors, so all that was needed was to add the milk, pat out, cut and bake. In the small highland villages  where I grew up, being considered a 'good baker' was a matter of great pride for many women (not only for scones of course). Each had their own secret method, or added a pinch of this or that to make their scones lighter, fluffier or sweeter than others'.

On communal occasions, or at local agricultural shows, there would be a procession of steely eyed country women, clad in home knitted cardi's, or tweeds, each carrying in their (usually substantial) bosom a carefully packed container full of golden scones and other baking, to be unpacked onto platters on the covered trestle tables in the village hall, or marquee. Friends they might be day to day, but there was no mistaking the competitive gleam in their eyes as they unpacked and displayed their home baking, with many a sideways glance at their friends' offerings.

My recipe is an amalgamation of several others, so can't be attributed to a specific writer, and has evolved over the years, but it is just right for my oven, and my style of baking. I am slightly reluctant to commit it to print incase I receive the on-line equivalent of letters of complaint written in lavender ink, but I will take the plunge. Perhaps it will turn out to be just right for your oven too.

The quantities below make about 18 scones, using a 5 1/2cm, straight sided cutter. Handle the mix lightly, do not knead the dough, pat it out using your hands, no need for a rolling pin. Additionally, the first time you make the scones, you might like to reserve about 1/4 of the milk initially, until you see how the mixture comes together (depending on what brand of flour you are using etc), adding the rest as required. Any scones that are uneaten on the day can be frozen immediately after they are fully cold, and then gently reheated in a warm oven when required. 

Ingredients.

840g self raising flour

1 1/2 tsp salt

2 1/2 tsp baking powder

120g caster sugar

60g butter

30g trex

180g raisins (omit for plain scones)

510mls milk

1 egg, for glazing the scones

Method

Preheat oven to Gas 7 or equivelent.

Sift flour, sugar, salt and baking powder together in a large bowl.

Add the butter and trex (I usually use the butter at room temp, and the trex from the fridge)

Rub the fats into the dry ingredients, until all is well amalgamated and of a sandy consistency.

Add the raisins (if using) and distribute them evenly in the mixture.

Make a well in the dry ingredients, add the milk. 

 Stir the milk into the dry ingredients using a round bladed knife. Work quickly and lightly.

You are aiming for a slightly sticky, loose dough.

Using a scraper or rubber spatula,turn out the mixture onto a generously floured surface. 

Dust some flour on the top and pat the mixture into a round with your hands. Pat out to a thickness of about 2- 2 1/2cm. Put a handful of flour in a small bowl, or in a mound at the side of the work surface, and dip the cutter into the flour before cutting out each scone. The mixture can be drawn together, re-patted to a round, and more scones cut out, but I would do this only once; the dough results in tough scones if it is overhandled.

Place the scones apart on the tray. Brush the tops with the beaten egg, slackened off with a little water.

Place the scones in the top of the oven for 18 to 20 minutes, checking after 15 the first few times you make them. You will quickly find an exact time for your particular oven.

When the scones are well risen, golden on top, and also the bottom, place on a wire rack to cool. you might find those out the outer edges of the tray are ready first, and those in the middle can be popped back in for another few minutes.

These are best eaten when warm, and you should  twist, rather than cut them in half, revealing the fluffy centre, flecked with raisins. Butter, jam, honey, cheese etc are all delicious with fruit scones. Pot of tea also essential.

 

today in the garden.

The grass was being cut today in the park across the road. The unmistakeable sappy, mild, oniony smell drifted pleasantly on the damp air, and drew me out to the front garden for a wander; mug of tea in hand. 

In Spring, the garden changes so rapidly; where in February there had been, fleetingly and beautifully, snowdrops, there is now a variety of spring flowers, some inherited with the house, some planted since we moved here in 2004.

I never know if I truly think the Magnolia looks primitive, or if I am simply influenced by the knowledge that fossil records show it was indigenous to Europe; North America and Asia over 100 million years ago. I planted ours eight years ago, and it blooms, modestly and prettily, every year.

This reliable clump of Aubrietia appears every Spring. It can be seen from the kitchen window and is a happy reminder of the day my mum spent planting tiny plants all along the garden wall with Jacob, then a toddler. 

Along the paths grow cheerful little Grape Hyacinths , which spread determinedly year on year. Impossible to resist picking a handful, along with some Narcissus from a pot outside the front door, to make a tiny Spring bouquet.

Then finding a suitably diminuitive vessel for display.

 

In baking news, Derek has requested some baking for a business meeting on Friday, so that gives me a date for baking re-entry after my recent illness. I haven't had the energy so far, but am pleased to have a definate day to aim for. Photo's and recipe will follow afterwards. 

 

purple prose (I do hope not!)

I have been feeling strongly drawn towards the colour purple since coming home.

On my first outing since leaving hospital I bought pansies.

Mentioned in this charming book (and here) as being 'for thought', or meaning 'loving thoughts', and with Shakespeare's dramatic intentions via Ophelia's impassioned floral outpourings jauntily described here, there are indications that the pansy has long been associated with thoughtfullness.

A quick internet search on some appealingly eccentric sites (like this one) also suggest that the colour purple is associated with healing; sleep, and soothing of mental and emotional distress.

All very appropriate for the convalescing patient.

Incidentally, the very beautiful books in the above photograph, from the bottom up, are as follows:

Sue Lawrence's 'Scots Cooking' , a wonderful collection of traditional Scottish recipes, in Sue's bright and informative prose.

'A Cake Lover's Recipe Notebook' by the inimitable Jane Brocket, which is extremely pretty, inside and out, and genuinely user-friendly.

My 2014 Leuchtturm1917 diary. I am ridiculously picky about my annual diary, this format is perfect.

 

 

 

blood and bandages

 

In the folklore of  all florists and nurses is embedded the belief  that red and white flowers together represent blood and bandages, therefore those colours are never encouraged in a bouquet intended for a patient.

However, after being suddenly admitted to hospital last week, and spending a torrid few days before being discharged late Saturday afternoon; the huge bunches of red and white tulips awaiting me on Mothers' Day morning from my darling family, could not have been more welcome, or more appreciated. 

As was the beautiful Mothers' Day breakfast made for me by my lovely boys.

(even though all I could manage was half a slice of toast)

And though I am still feeling uncharacteristically tired, and a bit tottery, and am taking tablets of various shapes, sizes and colours (some of which seem to be giving me positively psychedelic dreams!), I am so unutterably grateful to be home, back with my darling boys (all three), that I can take all that in my stride.

I am also in complete awe of my fabulous Mum, who having just celebrated her 70th birthday , stepped in and calmly took over the running of the entire household, also comforting and reassuring the boys, all the while being worried herself. Forever grateful.

So although I sometimes find a Pollyanna post a bit nauseating on other blogs (sorry; the truth will out) Mea Culpa.

Hope to be baking again very very soon, and posting more of the usual stuff.