Caramel Parfait

On the night of the Guild awards, mum and I booked an early table at Honey & Co. A particularly fantastic dessert - a just-set milk pudding topped with syrupy poached peaches and rose - and the meal in general affirmed that I definitely needed to buy a copy of their book, which came out two weeks later.

The day I received it, I went straight into the kitchen to try out the honey parfait. If you don't have lolly moulds the book suggests making cones out of greaseproof paper and propping them up in the freezer. I made some out of my favourite foil lined parchment (it's stiffer, which I thought would be useful), using the technique for making paper piping bags but securing them with a staple. I didn't have any lolly sticks either so I used some cotton thread to secure a few chopped up pieces of wooden skewer together. Though I enjoyed the honey flavour, the texture and technique were the things that really captured me.



To play with the technique, I decided to try substituting the honey. I toyed between caramel and maple syrup before, predictably, picking caramel. The only problem with caramel is that once you've got to the caramel stage of a sugar syrup, it's not at the right stage to pour onto the egg yolks (I was 99% sure it wouldn't work but decided to check anyway - it was a mess). I found that adding a little cold water to the caramel when it reaches the right stage brings it back down to roughly 100-110C. The resulting syrup then works beautifully. I want to see if the same technique works for Italian meringue, too - does caramel meringue sound good?

I've been shaping the parfait into a little loaf, which I then serve in tiny slices. It's very rich. I've also added some caramel pieces to boost the flavour and to provide a bit of textural contrast. The caramel pieces liquify a little at the edges and soften - though they still crunch - in the freezer. I have salted the caramel, but only lightly - you could increase it a touch for a more pronounced flavour.

Parfait has a different texture to ice cream or gelato or any other creamy frozen dessert I've tried. It's like very cold, smooth mousse, as it doesn't become particularly hard when it freezes and has quite a bit of air incorporated - it's almost foamy (in a good way). Definitely worth trying, anyway, whether you choose honey or caramel, loaf or lolly.



Caramel Parfait
(inspired by Honey & Co's Honey Parfait)

For the caramel pieces:
25g white sugar (caster or granulated)
pinch of fine sea salt

For the parfait:
2 large egg yolks
25ml cold water
pinch of fine sea salt
50g white sugar (caster or granulated)
140ml double cream

Start with the caramel pieces. Tear off a bit of baking parchment and place on a worktop near the stove. Spread the sugar (25g) evenly over the bottom of a small pan. Place over a medium-high heat and watch carefully - after a few minutes, the sugar will start to liquify at the edges. Don't stir it - you can flick some of the crystals onto a liquid bit, but don't fiddle too much. Once it's nearly all melted and starts to caramelise, swirl it all together. Keep heating until you have a clear liquid with a deep golden-bronze colour, then swirl in the salt and quickly pour onto the parchment. Leave to cool. When it has solidified, chop into tiny pieces with a knife (and watch out, it tends to splinter and fly off the board - it can be quite sharp at this point).

Line a baby loaf tin or small box (roughly 6" x 3") or another shape (perhaps a small bowl for a bombe shape?) with a big piece of clingfilm. Place the egg yolks into the bowl of a stand mixer with the whisk attached. Combine the water and salt and put them near the stove. Don't bother to wash the caramel pan - just sprinkle in the sugar for the parfait (50g). Make the caramel as before, but when it is ready, turn the heat off and immediately pour in the salty water. It will react quite wildly, steaming and bubbling, but after the first few moments, start stirring and keep going until the mixture is smooth. It should still be bubbling away (if not, or if the pieces aren't dissolving, turn the heat back on for a moment). Turn the mixer with the egg yolks in up to medium high, then carefully pour the hot caramel down the side of the bowl into the whisking yolks (see this video). Turn the mixer up to full speed and leave to whip.

While it whips, start whipping the double cream until it thickens and starts holding shape in very soft peaks - it's important to not overwhip it (see this photo for the way both the cream and caramel mixture look when ready). The caramel mixture should be pale yellow and very thick and when you lift the whisk out the trail should stay on the surface for at least the count of five.

Scrape the caramel mixture into the cream bowl and fold in with a big spoon (see this video for technique, though these mixtures are the same consistency). When the mixture is uniform, add the caramel pieces and fold them though. Scrape into the lined mould, level off, pull the clingfilm over the top and put in the freezer. It's best left overnight but will have hopefully firmed up enough after 5-6 hours.

(Makes about 6-8 very small slices)



Three more recipes that involve whipped cream:
2010: Eton Mess
2011: Coconut Cream Cake
2013: Caramelised White Chocolate Éclairs

Strawberry & Balsamic Caramel Meringues

It's my birthday in ten minutes. I'll be 25. A quarter of a century!

I created this recipe for my birthday party last year but the post about it lingered in my draft folder. Strawberry season ended and so here we are, a year on.



This batch of balsamic caramel had the distinction of being the first thing I made in my SAVEUR awards pan (we were given them as a sort of trophy, as you can see here - they have engraved handles).

The only word I can think of to describe my time in Vegas is surreal. Vegas itself, the desert heat, the jet lag, meeting people I didn't think I'd ever know in person - the whole thing had a dreamlike quality.



After the awards, I flew to California to spend a few days with my lovely friend Erin and her family. Erin and I first met at O Chamé in Berkeley, which has sadly now closed. That day I had their balsamic caramel gelato, which I later wrote about as one of most inspiring tastes of our trip. Strawberry and balsamic go well together, so last summer I decided to combine all three.

The balsamic in the caramel cuts through some of the sweetness of the meringue and strawberries. I also add a bit of crème fraîche to the whipped cream to give it a sour hint. It all comes together to make the classic combination a bit more interesting. You get crunchy, chewy and sweet from the meringue; softly whipped and slightly tart cream; fresh, bright strawberry, and then the complex caramel on top.



Finally, on Thursday I won Food Blog of the Year at the Guild of Food Writers Awards 2014! It's such an honour to be chosen and I'm absolutely thrilled that lightning has struck twice.

In case you're curious, the five posts from 2013 that the judges looked at in particular:
Brown Butter Pound Cake
Caramelised White Chocolate Éclairs
Hot Cross Buns v.4
Dutch Baby a.k.a. Puffed Pancake
Foundations no.8 - Meringue Part I

The last post must have been the inspiration for this amusing comment in the awards booklet - so I think it's particularly appropriate that this post happened to be about whipping whites into meringues.



Strawberry & Balsamic Caramel Meringues

For the meringues:
slice of lemon
2 large egg whites (roughly 80g)
105g caster sugar

For the balsamic caramel sauce:
25g caster sugar
35g cold double cream
1/8-1/4 tsp good quality balsamic vinegar

To assemble:
150g double cream (25g per person)
90g crème fraîche (15g/1 tbsp per person)
600g strawberries (100g or roughly 4-6 per person)

For a detailed guide to making meringue with lots of pictures (using the same quantities as here), see here. Preheat the oven to 100C/210F. Line a baking sheet with baking parchment. Wipe down a mixer bowl with the cut side of a slice of lemon. Add the egg whites to the bowl and attach the whisk attachment. Start whipping slowly, then increase the speed to medium-high. Keep whisking until the foam only has tiny bubbles then start adding the sugar slowly while whipping. Once it's all added, stop and scrape down the sides. Turn up to high and whip until the mixture holds stiff, glossy peaks (see guide for pictures) - this usually takes at least 2-3 minutes.

Divide the meringue into six dollops on the baking sheet, then use a teaspoon to form them into nests. Place into the oven and bake for an hour, then turn the oven off and leave to cool inside (you can either do this overnight or for a few hours). Store in an airtight tin until needed.

To make the caramel, spread the sugar evenly over the bottom of a small pan. Place over a medium-high heat and watch carefully - after a few minutes, the sugar will start to liquify at the edges. Don't stir it - you can flick some of the crystals onto a liquid bit, but don't fiddle too much. Once it's nearly all melted and starts to caramelise, swirl it all together. Keep heating until you have a deep golden-bronze colour. Take off the heat, pour in the cream and stir until the bubbling stops. Scrape into a bowl then stir in 1/8 tsp of balsamic. Once it's cooled a bit, taste and see if you want to add another 1/8 tsp. Store in the fridge until needed.

To assemble, re-warm the caramel by pouring boiling water into a slightly bigger bowl and lowering the caramel bowl into the water, being careful the water doesn't spill into it (or place over a smaller pan of simmering water). Stir occasionally until it becomes warm and thinner in consistency. Place the cream and crème fraîche into a mixing bowl and whip until it thickens and you have very soft, floppy peaks (I do this by hand). Remove the tops of the strawberries and cut into quarters. Place a meringue onto a plate then top with cream, strawberries and a drizzle of caramel. Serve immediately.

I assemble them as-and-when for however many people I have to feed (or myself) - so I've put the per person amounts up above.

(Serves 6)

Adaption: For my birthday last year I made a meringue stack version of this recipe. I used a three egg white meringue mix (165g sugar) and spread it into 6" discs. It was hard to cut and I prefer the individual portions but it did look impressive. I had to take a photo of it outside at night, so it's not the best image, but still:



Three more posts about birthdays:
Chocolate Ice Cream and a very lovely 21st
Blueberry and Ginger Layer Cake
That Chocolate Cake

(Credit for the Guild portrait is to Charlotte Medlicott)

Chocolate Torte with Hazelnut Praline

Back in April, Mum asked for three things for her birthday tea: chocolate cake, praline and ice cream. A coeliac friend was coming to the tea so it also had to be gluten free.

Mum had already tried making this chocolate torte with cocoa powder instead of flour, so I decided to start with that. Next, I made a batch of my favourite vanilla ice cream. On a whim I ground the praline down to a fine crumb, which turned out to be wonderful (both on top of the torte and on a spoon).



Last weekend I went to Wales to celebrate a housewarming and generally enjoy the bank holiday. I thought this would be a good recipe to take down as the torte improves with time so it didn't matter which day we ate it. I kept the praline in a separate airtight box (it doesn't keep well on top of the cake) so I'm afraid I don't have an image of the assembled cake for you.

Despite that, I think you can imagine it: a dark torte topped with a thick layer of nutty, crunchy praline crumbs and a big scoop of melting ice cream to meld it all together.



Chocolate Hazelnut Torte with Hazelnut Praline
(adapted from Alice Medrich's Sinfully Easy Delicious Desserts)

For the torte:
70g whole hazelnuts
30g cocoa powder
170g dark chocolate (70-85%)
150g light brown sugar
140g unsalted butter, slightly softened
big pinch of fine sea salt
4 large cold eggs (from the fridge)
1 tsp vanilla extract

For the praline topping:
70g whole hazelnuts
40g white granulated or caster sugar
big pinch of fine sea salt

Preheat the oven to 180C/350F (fan). Lightly butter a deep 8"-9" springform or loose-based tin. Place the hazelnuts on a small tray in the oven and toast for a few minutes until they start to smell and darken and the skins begin to split open. Rub any loose skins off with a clean tea towel or kitchen roll. Put into a food processor with the cocoa powder and blast until they are finely ground.

Place a mixer bowl over a pan of barely simmering water. Chop the chocolate and tip into the bowl. Stir occasionally as it melts. Meanwhile weigh out the brown sugar and salt and cut the butter into cubes - it should be starting to soften, not squishy. When the chocolate has nearly melted, take it off the heat and stir until it's smooth. Place on the mixer (with the whisk attached) and add the sugar, salt and butter. Whisk on medium until the ingredients have fully combined and the mixture has lightened a little. Scrape the sides down then add the first egg. Whip until combined, then add the next egg. Repeat until they're all combined then add the vanilla and whip for 2 minutes on high until stiff and pale.

Add the cocoa-ground hazelnut mixture and fold in. Scoop into the pan and level out. Bake for 23-30 minutes - a tester should still bring up a sticky crumbs and it won't look fully cooked in the middle (a bit like brownies - don't overcook it or it gets dry and crumbly). Place on a wire rack and leave to sink and cool fully in the tin. Wrap in kitchen foil and try to leave for at least one day and up to three before serving.

To make the praline topping, place a sheet of baking parchment near the stove. Toast the hazelnuts (as above, or in a frying pan until a similar stage) - they need to still be warm when they're combined with the caramel. Spread the sugar over the bottom of a medium sized heavy-bottomed pan and place over medium-high heat. Watch carefully - after a few minutes, the sugar will start to liquify at the edges. Don't stir it - you can flick some of the crystals onto a liquid bit, but don't fiddle too much. Once it's nearly all melted and starts to caramelise, swirl it all together. Keep heating until you have a deep golden-bronze colour then stir in the salt and the still-hot hazelnuts so they become covered in caramel. Quickly scrape it all out onto the baking parchment and spread out. Leave to cool (it's ready once the caramel snaps). Break into big chunks then place into a food processor (no need to wash between the earlier hazelnut/cocoa mix) and pulse until it is finely ground (same sort of texture as ground almonds).

Spoon the praline over the top of the cake then serve. It's best with softened vanilla ice cream but a big spoonful of gently whipped cream or crème fraîche also works.

(Serves 10-12)



Three more hazelnut recipes:
Fig & Hazelnut Crumble Bars
Roasted Hazelnut Butter Biscuits
Brown Sugar, Cinnamon & Hazelnut Meringues

Pear & Caramel Pudding Cake

In the middle of making this cake for the first time, my mum's Kenwood Major died.

It was eighteen years old, bought when I was six. Mum taught me to bake with it. I can't begin to count the number of memories it features in.



It had been going slowly wrong for the past year or so, and finally gave up as I scraped down the sides of the bowl, declining to turn on again to finish creaming the butter and sugar. It went without a whimper or a bang, quietly, in great contrast to the racket it had started to make whenever you managed to twist and push the dial just so to make it turn on.



A few days before the mixer's demise, I came across this caramel apple cake. As I hadn't made anything with pears this autumn I decided to try making a upside down caramel pear cake. That recipe and most other similar cakes I've seen start with a brown sugar mixture on the bottom. I wanted to make one with proper caramel, lightly salted - a sort of tarte tatin/cake hybrid.

I adapted the cake mixture from my Pear and Chocolate Loaf as it's one of my favourites and I already knew it went well with pears. I tried three different types of pear: Bosc, Conference and Comice. Bosc was the best.



Despite the emotional loss of the mixer (and having to do the rest by hand), the first cake came out beautifully.

But then can you really go wrong with buttery salted caramel, tender pears, fluffy cake, caramelised edges and a spoonful or two of thick crème fraîche?



Finally, a quick little guide to fully lining a tin. I rarely think it's necessary to fully line (usually it's just the Christmas cake and similar things) but for this cake I wanted to make sure the caramel didn't leak out.

1.   Take your tin apart and roll out some baking parchment. Use a pencil to draw around the bottom circle of the tin. Cut it out.

2.   Align the side part of your tin with the edge of your roll of parchment paper. Roll the tin along the paper until you have a small overlap then mark the spot.

3.   Cut a strip of paper that's a bit wider than the height of your tin up to the mark - for this, mine was about 4"/10cm wide as my tin is 3"/7.5cm. On the edge that was the outside of the roll (as this is always straight) cut little slits into the paper that are about 0.5-0.75"/1.5-2cm deep all the way along.

4.   Flatten the paper and fold the tabs formed by the slits up on the side that was outwards on the roll (if the paper is put in the same way as it was rolled, it curls inwards). Curl it into the tin so that the tabs are flat on the bottom, then secure it with the circular middle.



Pear & Caramel Pudding Cake

For the top:
100g caster or granulated sugar
30g double cream
2 pinches fine sea salt
2 pears, just ripe, preferably Bosc

For the cake:
125g unsalted butter, room temperature
75g caster sugar
50g soft brown sugar
2 eggs
135g plain flour
1 tsp baking powder
pinch of fine sea salt
2 tbsp unsweetened plain yogurt (or milk)

Preheat the oven to 190C/375F. Fully line an 8"/20cm* tin (as above).

Sprinkle the sugar evenly over the bottom of a large, thick-bottomed pan. Turn the heat up to medium-high and watch carefully - after a few minutes, the sugar will start to liquify at the edges. Don't stir it - you can flick some of the crystals onto a liquid bit, but don't fiddle too much. Once it's nearly all melted and starts to caramelise, swirl it all together. Keep heating until you have a deep golden-bronze colour. Turn off the heat and stir in the cream and sea salt. Quickly scrape into the case and spread out carefully so that it covers as much of the base as possible. It will become hard once it has cooled.

Peel the pears, then chop in quarters and core. Slice each quarter into three. Arrange on top of the hard caramel in a fan shape.

Cream the butter and two sugars together until pale and fluffy, scraping down occasionally - this takes about 5 minutes. Beat the eggs together in a jug. Weigh the flour, baking powder and salt into a bowl. When fully creamed, start adding the eggs, bit by bit, beating all the time (I keep mine on 6 on my KA). About half way through adding the egg, add a tsp of flour, then again towards the end, scraping down each time. Sieve the flour bowl into the mixer bowl then mix together on a low speed. When it has come together, add the yogurt and mix until combined.

Dollop the cake mixture on top of the pears then spread out into an even layer - it won't seem like much mixture but it's fine. Bake for 20-26 minutes until deep golden brown and a toothpick or tester can be removed cleanly from the middle. Place on a wire rack to cool for 10 minutes then remove the side of the tin and the side paper. Flip onto a serving plate and remove the bottom part of the tin and the paper.

I think this cake is much better when warm or hot, so I recommend either eating it immediately or reheating it just before. Best on the day it's made, keeps two days overall. Serve with crème fraîche.

(Serves around 6-8)

Edit 24/10/15: I've changed the caramel to a cream caramel which solves the problems some were having in the comments below (which means the photo above is incorrect for the recipe, sorry). I've also changed the milk for yogurt in the cake.

*I've also started making this in a 9" tin - either is fine, though 9" tends to cook in more like 20 minutes.



Three more posts that involve making caramel:
Salted Caramel Brownies
Choco-Caramel Sundae Sauce
Cider Caramel, Sautéed Apples & Cinnamon Ice Cream

Choco-Caramel Sauce

This is an I-can't-stop-spooning-this-straight-into-my-mouth-oh-****-down-my-dress-ah-who-cares-WANT-MORE-SAUCE sort of sauce.



Essentially, you make a dry caramel, then you stop it with lots of double cream, then you pour it over dark chocolate to make a caramel ganache (!!), then you add a bit of salt. Then the aforementioned spoon incident occurs.



It took a few tests to get the right ratio. The first time I didn't add enough cream or chocolate and it was way too thick. The second time I didn't have enough caramel and the chocolate was overpowering. The third time I hit on this combination and it's been reliably brilliant ever since.



At first I poured it over chocolate ice cream but I found that the flavour of the ice cream swamped the caramel and disrupted the balance. In the end I made a batch of my favourite vanilla ice cream, which works brilliantly.

When I started to churn the vanilla, I realised that I hadn't managed to get the base of my ice cream maker cold enough. After five minutes I gave up and scraped the slushy mixture into a box and froze it. I only stirred it up once with a fork but it still has a lovely smooth texture. I don't think the initial time in the ice cream machine did that much, so I reckon if you don't have one then stirring it around two or three times would give pretty good results.



I thought about adding extras - some raspberries for an acidic touch, some toasted flaked almonds for a textural crunch - but in the end simplicity won. It doesn't need anything else.



Choco-Caramel Sauce

55g white sugar (granulated or caster)
150ml double cream
40g dark chocolate (70-85%)
big pinch of fine sea salt

Sprinkle the sugar evenly over the bottom of a medium-sized, thick-bottomed pan. Turn the heat up to medium-high and watch carefully - after a few minutes, the sugar will start to liquify at the edges. Don't stir it - you can flick some of the crystals onto a liquid bit, but don't fiddle too much. Once it's nearly all melted and starts to caramelise, swirl it all together. Keep heating until you have a deep golden-bronze colour (see above).

Take off the heat then pour in the cream and vigorously stir it in as it bubbles up (watch out, it is very hot). If you have a few clumps, whisk them in while it is still hot. Leave for a couple of minutes to stop bubbling and cool down a bit. Chop the chocolate up into small chunks and place in a small bowl. Pour the caramel over the chocolate, then leave to sit for a minute before stirring into a glossy sauce. Add the pinch of salt and stir through.

Pour over ice cream while warm - if it cools down too much and becomes too thick, pour some boiling water into a slightly bigger bowl and immerse the sauce bowl in it for a minute or two. Stir till smooth (dip again if it's still too thick). The sauce will keep in a covered bowl in the fridge for 4-5 days.

(Makes one bowl, probably enough for 3-5 sundaes, depending on size. If you don't eat it all first.)



Three more recipes that involve a dry caramel:
Salted Caramel Brownies
Cider Caramel, Sautéed Apples and Cinnamon Ice Cream
Salted Caramel and Walnut Braided Bread

Toscakaka (Caramel Almond Cake)

About a week ago, I spotted this recipe and pencilled it in for the end of February. After testing it for the first time, I sent the draft to mum for her to try. Her pupil declared it the best cake she'd ever eaten and asked to take some home for her parents. They made the same claim.

I made it again yesterday and handed half to a friend. A few hours later, I got four texts in quick succession:
'Oh'
'My'
'Goodness'
'That cake is delicious.'

It seemed cruel to keep the recipe under wraps for a month. Besides, it's the perfect way to celebrate the end of January.



I found the recipe in Signe Johanson's fantastic book from last year, Scandilicious Baking. I've only tried two recipes so far but they've both been excellent.

Signe notes that this is "the quintessential Scandi cake". In an inspired move, she adapts the tradition by adding salt to the topping. After my first test, I decided to toast the flaked almonds - I think the texture and flavour is better.

Toscakaka is essentially a simple whisked sponge topped with a gooey caramel almond topping that seeps into the cake and hardens on top to a crunchy praline. The edges, in particular, are irresistible. It reminds me of the famous Chez Panisse Almond Tart - and that's a very good thing.

The only difficult part is persuading yourself to leave the topping alone instead of picking bits off and then, ashamed by your uncouth behaviour, trying to make it look like you didn't.



In Signe's book and my other book on Scandinavian baking, Puccini's opera 'Tosca' is suggested as a source for the name. You can watch the Royal Opera House's 2011 production online - I'm listening to it as I write.

The second half of the name also caught my eye. 'kaka' is the Swedish word for cake, which is the same as the original Old Norse word (Old Norse is the medieval ancestor of Swedish, Norwegian, Icelandic and Danish). Though the etymology is still debated, it is thought that our word 'cake' was borrowed from Old Norse in the 13th century, like many other common words (medieval loanwords from French, Latin and Norse were my favourite part of my brief time studying the development of English).

At that time, cake would have meant a yeasted bread, not a light, fluffy sponge created by whipped eggs and baking powder, cloaked in buttery caramel and crisp nuts.



Finally, two things:

1/ My first ever proper recipe feature is out in the March Issue of Sainsbury's Magazine! I've known about this for about nine months so it's amazing to finally see it in print and get to show you. It's crazy to see my recipes in a magazine-style shoot, without the context of my writing and photography. You'll find the feature on pages 68-70 and there's another little bit with me on page 7. The are three recipes: pecan sticky buns, cocoa-rolled passionfruit truffles and proper caramel popcorn.

2/ I've been reading and revisiting a lot of my food books recently. I thought it'd be good to collect my favourites somewhere. In the end I made a Pinterest board (it's easy to keep adding to and links to amazon). You can find it through the photo link on the sidebar (the photo is of some of my food bookshelves) or here. I'm including recipe-based, memoir, history and reference books.



Toscakaka (Swedish Caramel Almond Cake)
(adapted from Signe Johansen's Scandilicious Baking)

For the cake:
70ml milk
1 tsp lemon juice
75g unsalted butter
3 eggs
150g caster sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
150g plain flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/8 tsp fine sea salt

For the topping:
150g flaked almonds
125g butter
125g light brown sugar
50ml milk
1/2 tsp sea salt
1/2 tsp espresso powder (optional, could replace with vanilla)*

Preheat oven to 160C/320F. Grease a deep 9" round tin (preferably with a removable bottom) and line the bottom with baking parchment. Stir the lemon juice into the milk and leave to sit (to make buttermilk, you can replace with 75ml if you have it on hand). Toast the almond flakes in a oven tray for 5-7 minutes until they're a light golden brown, then set aside.

Melt the butter for the cake in a medium saucepan then pour into a bowl and leave to cool (keep the pan to use later). Whip the eggs, sugar and vanilla together in a stand mixer on high for 5 minutes (time this if at all possible), until the mixture is a creamy colour and very thick (when you remove the whisk, the trail should stay visible for at least 5 seconds). While it whisks, sieve the flour, baking powder and salt together. Sieve 1/3 of the flour mixture over the egg bowl then gently fold in with a big metal spoon or large spatula (see this video to see how). Drizzle half of the milk over the top and fold in. Repeat with the next 1/3 of flour, the rest of the milk, then the rest of the flour. Finally drizzle half of the butter over the top, fold in, then repeat with the remaining butter. Be very gentle but thorough, scraping the bottom - it's easy to get little pockets of flour but you need to conserve as much volume as you can. Carefully transfer to the tin by scraping it gently out from as little height as possible.

Bake for 25-30 minutes until golden and set (a toothpick should be able to be removed cleanly - it needs to be cooked to support the topping). While it bakes, make the topping. Place the butter, sugar, milk, salt and espresso powder into the saucepan and stir as the butter melts. Keep heating for a few minutes - it should bubble and thicken slightly. Stir in the almonds and set aside. When the cake is ready, turn the oven up to 200C/390F, remove the cake to a rack and spoon the glaze over the top. Spread the almonds out into an even layer. Place back into the oven and bake for 8-10 minutes until the glaze is darkened and bubbling. Cool for a five minutes then slide a knife around the edge of the tin to loosen the sides and remove the cake to a rack.

Best eaten once it's cooled to room temperature, though I have to admit to trying a warm slice with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. It keeps well in an airtight tin for two days and is still alright on the third.

(Makes about 8-10 slices)

*Coffee isn't a traditional addition but I think it's delicious. Up to you.

(Updated 27/07/15)



A few more almond posts:
2012: Chez Panisse Almond Tart
2010: Raspberry and Almond Layer Cake
2009: Lemon and Almond Cake

Hazelnut Praline Bombe

Happy New Year!

I served slices of this bombe with a hot chocolate sauce on New Year's Eve, but after seconds and thirds (just to make sure...), we decided that it drowned out the flavour of the ice cream.

It's best served alone, so you can give the nutty caramel flavour and the creamy but slightly grainy texture - contrasted with the outer crunch - your full attention.

Hazelnut Praline Bombe
(Ice cream base adapted from David Lebovitz's Vanilla Ice Cream)

For the praline:
160g whole hazelnuts
125g granulated sugar

For the ice cream base:
330ml double cream
170ml whole milk
50g granulated sugar
big pinch of salt
4 egg yolks

Preheat the oven to 180C/350F. Tip the hazelnuts onto a tray and place into the oven. Toast for 4-5 minutes - they should smell good and might look a bit oily. Lie a sheet of parchment paper flat on your worktop. Sprinkle the sugar for the praline into a heavy-bottomed medium pan and shake into an even layer (if possible use a frying pan or one that's not too deep - the cold sides will harden the caramel when you scrape it out, so the higher the side the more caramel you'll lose).

Place the pan over a medium heat - it will take a few minutes for the sugar to start to melt but keep an eye on it. Don't stir the sugar, though you can gently move/flick the unmelted sugar with a heatproof spatula into the patches that have melted. It may start to colour in patches - keep heating until it has all melted and is a uniform deep bronze colour. Quickly add the hazelnuts and stir, then immediately scrape out onto the parchment paper. Leave to harden.

When the praline is cool, cut off 60g and set it aside. Place the rest in a food processor and keep blending until you have a paste.

To make the ice cream base, pour 200ml of the cream into a medium saucepan along with the milk, sugar and salt. Pour the remaining 130ml of cream into a jug or bowl and place a metal sieve over the top. Put the egg yolks into a small bowl, break them up with a whisk, and place near the stove. Heat the cream/milk on medium-high until it starts to steam, then pour about about a third into the yolks, whisking the yolks as you pour. Scrape the yolk mixture back into the pan and whisk briefly to combine. Place back over the heat and use a wooden spoon to stir until the custard thickens so that it covers the back of the spoon (see here for help on making custard and consistency). Pour through the sieve into the cream bowl. Add the praline paste and stir until the mixture is uniform. Cover with cling film and chill overnight.

The next day, line a 3/4 litre pudding bowl (or similar sized bowl) with cling film, leaving enough overhang to fold in and cover the top. Churn the ice cream according to the instructions for your ice cream maker. Scoop the ice cream into the pudding bowl, pressing down as you go so there are no bubbles or gaps. Level off, fold the cling film over the top and place in the freezer to firm up for at least 3 hours.

Bash up the remaining praline - either in a pestle and mortar, the processor or by placing it in a bag and bashing it with a rolling pin. The pieces need to be fairly small but not powder. Remove the bombe from the freezer and use the cling film to ease it out of the bowl. Turn out onto a serving plate. Leave it to soften for 5 minutes then press the praline into the sides and top. Serve, then cut into slices.

(Serves 6-8)

EDIT: I'm thinking of testing this again soon to see if it's nicer if you strain the custard before churning the ice cream - I can't decide if I like the slightly grainy texture or not. It keeps coming back to haunt me - until I manage to try it again, it's up to you if you want to strain it to make a smoother ice cream or leave it as it is.

A few related posts:
Cider Caramel, Sautéed Apples & Cinnamon Ice Cream
Dulce de Leche Ice Cream
Baked Alps

Pear Pie & Raspberry Caramels

You know how sometimes everything you cook is just a little bit off? Not ruined, not inedible - just not what you'd expected. This week has been like that. Every day I wake up and think that today will be the day when I get my act together.

Maybe tomorrow.

After many experiments and accidents, I don't have a recipe for you this week. Instead, I have two ideas represented by two sets of photos. It seemed a shame to waste them. After writing about the hidden scaffolding of rules and habits behind this blog last week, it seems almost appropriate to break them.

First, I made a pear pie that had a bit of a soggy bottom (I dread to think what Mary Berry would have said).

My mum came to visit last weekend as there was a tiny slit of light in my schedule. The main reason the pastry went wrong was that I had to take the pie out of the oven early or she would have missed her flight home to Switzerland as she refused to leave without tasting it. I've also never made a pie with a pastry base in this ceramic dish - I think a metal one would be better.

You actually don't really need a recipe for this - just use your favourite pastry recipe (I used the one from the Apple and Quince Pie) and fill with chunks of firm but ripe pear. I mixed a tablespoon of brown sugar with half a teaspoon of ground ginger and sprinkled it between each layer of pears. The pears were concordes and were some of the best I've ever tasted.

I also tried to make some freeze-dried raspberry fudge, inspired by some I ate on my trip to Edinburgh a few weeks ago. It was my first attempt at fudge. I appear to have made caramels. Absolutely gorgeous, vanilla-flecked, raspberry-studded, salted caramels.

But as they're not what the recipe was meant to make and I can't test it again today to check, I don't feel comfortable giving you the recipe. I think the pastry gods were trying to tell me something - caramels appear to be an even better place for the raspberries than fudge.

If you can't wait for me to do more testing, you could try finishing a tin of salted butter caramels from David Lebovitz with a handful of crushed freeze-dried raspberries (I stirred some in, too, hence the slightly weird bumps). It's quite different from the recipe I used but I think it would give you a similar taste and texture.

A few related posts:
Banoffee Pies
Ginger Bourbon Pecan Pie
Dusky Caramel and Raspberry Crêpe Cake

Cider Caramel, Sautéed Apples & Cinnamon Ice Cream

I left a detail out of my last post: the moment I made my decision.

I was sitting in bed, late at night, exhausted but sleepless. I had been turning the question over in my mind for days, again and again, the choices tumbling about on an uncontrollable spin cycle. In the midst of it all, I was feeling guilty about how little I was achieving and how many things were lingering on my to-do list.

To try and calm my mind so I could sleep, I picked up a book that I'd bought on impulse after reading a quote on a post. Apparently it's famous in the US but I hadn't heard of it before. The book was Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke, translated from German.

"Nobody can advise you and help you, nobody. There is only one way. Go into yourself. Examine the reason that bids you to write; check whether it reaches its roots into the deepest region of your heart, admit to yourself whether you should die if it should be denied to you to write. This above all: ask yourself in your night's quietest hour: must I write?"

As I read that first letter, I realised two things. First, I must write. Academic essays, this blog, whatever comes to mind - but I could never truly let it go. I don't think I'd realised that before. Silly as it may sound, I hadn't noticed that writing was important to me (though, to be fair, I don't know that I'd go as far as dying).

I also knew that the desire for the book didn't run deep enough. I could imagine giving it up. I was actually excited about the alternative. And so that was the moment that I realised I couldn't take it on and knew, from my "innermost instinct", which path I would pick. I find it funny - and so typical of the winding ways of life - that this experience would reveal through not writing that I want to write - in some form. It's not about being published or having others read it or being good or bad. It's just about putting words on a page.

In my tiny garden in Oxford, there is an apple tree. I noticed it when I first looked round. It was spring and the tree was full of blossom. I grew up around orchards and it made the house feel like home. In the months since, I've watched the flowers turn to tiny apples, then grow and grow. In the past few days they've started blushing. Every morning I wake up to a little more colour glowing through the window as I make my first cup of tea.

On Thursday, I posted a photo of some of my apples on facebook and twitter, asking what everyone thought I was making and what they would make. Nobody guessed this recipe, but there were so many tempting suggestions: apple pies, crumbles, fritters, tarts, baked apples, strudel, cake, cider and several mentions of tarte tatin. I've touched on a few before - among other things, apple & quince pie, spiced apple cake, my childhood favourite tarte aux pommes, ginger and apple jam, crumbled apples, brown sugar & pecan baked apples and toffee apples. I'm sure this harvest will inspire more apple-based posts.

The answer nobody guessed was sautéed apples. I think sautéed is the right term, though maybe the heat isn't high enough. The slices of apple are fried in a small amount of butter until tender and starting to caramelise. Fried sounded odd in the title and I couldn't think of a better word, so sautéed won.

The cider caramel was inspired by Hannah of Honey & Jam - she made a cider caramel with brown sugar for an apple pie. I thought I'd use my favourite dry caramel method to make a simple sauce with some reduced cider. It's hard to describe the flavour. It's sort of tangy, slightly sharp and yet sweet and smoky.

I've been resisting posting this cinnamon ice cream recipe for ages - I've made it lots of times but I feel that I've adapted enough of David Lebovitz's The Perfect Scoop recipes now. So, as I did for the Crêpes Suzette post, I'm going to suggest that you buy the book - even just for this recipe. If I could only keep three cookery books, it would be one. The ice cream is made with lots of whole cinnamon sticks that are crushed and infused into the dairy - the flavour is quite different from ground cinnamon and really lovely.

If you don't fancy making the ice cream, you could add a little cinnamon to the apples as they cook and serve them with the caramel over some good vanilla ice cream.

Put together, the bowl is very rich but deeply gorgeous. Another time I think I'll do one scoop of ice cream per person. There's a pleasing temperature contrast between the hot apples, warm caramel and ice cream. It's comforting but a little bit different.

Finally, I'm excited about blogging again. I hope that the tone will lighten now that things are a little less complicated - I know I can get a bit too earnest and serious at times.

Cider Caramel

150ml cider - I used a 4.5% medium dry from Devon
100g white caster or granulated sugar
25g unsalted butter, cubed
pinch of fine sea salt

Pour the cider into a small saucepan and bring to a boil. Keep going until the cider has reduced by half to 75ml - I kept the measuring jug nearby and poured it in and out occasionally to check the volume.

Tip the sugar into a heavy bottomed pan and shake it into an even layer. Place over a medium heat. The sugar will take a few minutes to start melting, but don't go far. Don't stir the sugar - you can move/flick the unmelted sugar with a spatula into the patches that have melted. Get a whisk ready and have the butter and cider nearby. Once it has all fully melted, keep heating until it reaches a copper colour - it often gets quite a bit of colour while it melts, so it shouldn't take long. The moment you're happy with the colour, turn the heat off and whisk in the cider, then add the butter. Keep going until all the lumps have disappeared and the butter has melted. Whisk in the salt.

Transfer to a bowl to cool a little. It will thicken as it cools - heat back up by warming the bowl in some hot water. Keeps in the fridge for a few days.

(Makes quite a bit - probably enough to serve 8-10)

*

Sautéed Apples

1 small apple per person - use an eating apple so it doesn't disintegrate
5-10g butter per person
1/2 tsp brown sugar per person

Peel and core the apples then slice them into thin slices. Place them in a saucepan or frying pan so that they can lie in one layer (or nearly do so). Add the butter and sugar and stir together as the butter melts. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the pieces yield softly to a knife. They might start caramelising a little, especially around the edges - this is a lovely bonus, so don't worry.

(Serves as many as you like)