Showing posts with label pudding. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pudding. Show all posts

Friday, 31 January 2014

Sticky Toffee Pudding



My final Pudding Month recipe had to be sticky toffee pudding.

When I was in the Lake District last year I made it my mission to eat as much sticky toffee pudding as possible. For research purposes, of course.



Though sticky toffee feels like one of those dishes that has been around forever, it was actually created in the early 1970s in the Lake District. Francis Coulson opened the Sharrow Bay Hotel on Ullswater in 1948 and is generally credited with the invention (though, as always, theories abound).

Four years ago I made some Sticky Toffee Volcanoes, little individual portions that had a gingery butterscotch sauce. They were good at the time but I knew I could improve on them now. I also wanted to make one big pudding - a slab that you can cut the portion of your choice from (and can have seconds from, if desired...).



I found a really interesting method on Not Without Salt for a salted caramel date loaf that involves making a deep bronze caramel, stirring in butter, boiling water and dates, then leaving it to cool into a delicious caramel-date slush before adding the final ingredients and baking.

The dates seem to permeate the whole pudding in a way they don't with the traditional method unless it's blended, when you don't get the lovely chunks of date you do here. The slightly smoky caramel creates a great flavour base that's more complex than just brown sugar. It's not quite as dark as some sticky toffee sponges - it's a brighter, rusty, autumnal brown.



My other contentious choice is to use baking powder instead of bicarbonate of soda. One of my biggest pet hates is the taste of bicarb coming through in a dish and I've had several sticky toffees when eating out that were ruined by it. I didn't see why I needed to use it instead of baking powder so I swapped.

I also salted the sauce because it transforms it into something so pleasurable that it's very hard to leave any in the pan while the pudding cooks. Other than that, I used a similar ratio of ingredients to normal and used Jane Grigson's recipe as my guide.

It's a sticky, sweet, hot-and-cold-and-saucy, mood-lifting, filling and generally all-round wonderful way to counteract the gloomy rain and finish off Pudding Month. I hope you've enjoyed the month as much as I have.



Finally, I couldn't resist sharing - last week our family expanded. Meet Albert: he's Arthur's nephew, just turned eight weeks old, enjoys helping me test recipes and is very cute. They're all back in Switzerland and he's settling in really well.



Sticky Toffee Pudding
(inspired by Jane Grigson's English Food and Ashley Rodriguez of Not Without Salt)

For the pudding:
100g Medjool dates (weighed without stones)
90g white caster or granulated sugar
40g cold unsalted butter
125ml boiling water
1/2 tsp vanilla paste (or extract)
1 large egg
90g plain flour
1 tsp baking powder
pinch of fine sea salt

For the sauce:
150g double cream
100g light brown sugar
50g unsalted butter
fine sea salt - I used fleur de sel - to taste

Preheat the oven to 180C/350F (fan). Chop roughly half the dates into big chunks and the rest into slightly smaller pieces. Tip the sugar into a wide, heavy-bottomed pan and spread out evenly. 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 bronze colour. To stop it cooking, remove from the heat and add the butter and stir as it bubbles. Next add the boiling water, the dates and the vanilla paste. Stir until the caramel has dissolved (don't worry if it's clumped up - put it over a low heat and it will dissolve). Leave to cool for 10 minutes - it will thicken a bit.

Line a small baking dish with baking parchment (or grease really well with butter) - I used a 7x5"/12x18cm (minus the lip) pie dish with slightly sloping sides - a 6" or 7" tin would probably work too or something similar. Lightly whisk the egg to break it up. Sieve the flour, baking powder and salt into the date-caramel pan and add the egg. Beat together until there are no lumps of flour. Scrape into the dish and place into the oven for 25 minutes.

While it bakes, make the sauce. Place the cream, brown sugar and butter into a pan and heat on medium, stirring occasionally, until you have a smooth sauce. Salt to taste a pinch at a time (keep going until you suddenly find yourself unable to stop sampling the sauce - that's the sweet spot) then pour into a jug.

After 25 minutes, a skewer or cake tester inserted into the sponge should come out clean (if not, pop it back in for another 5 minutes). Pour over some sauce and spread out to cover the whole top then put back into the oven for 3 minutes - the sauce should bubble over the top. Remove and serve hot with the extra sauce in a jug and scoops of vanilla ice cream.

The sponge reheats pretty well (it keeps in a sealed tin for a few days) covered by foil in the oven (I tend to just do the amount I'm serving). The sauce keeps in the fridge and can be reheated by placing the whole jug in a pan of hot/just simmering water and stirring until thin and hot.

(Serves 6-8, smallish but rich portions)



Three more syrupy-caramel puddings:
Sarah's Syrup Sponge
Cider Caramel, Sautéed Apples and Cinnamon Ice Cream
Crêpes Suzette

Wednesday, 22 January 2014

Steamed Chocolate Sponge Pudding



My Christmas pudding (which turned out beautifully, by the way) was my first attempt at a steamed pudding. I set my heart on trying a steamed sponge pudding next. Pudding Month needed a chocolate recipe, so steamed chocolate pudding became my goal.



As I hadn't made a sponge pudding before, I decided to try making a recipe from a cookbook as written. I ended up with a pudding that slumped heavily onto the serving plate, cracking open to let the raw centre flow; a bowl of gluey, excess batter and a heap of chocolate-streaked washing up.

After such an inauspicious start, I decided I had to go back to the basic components of pudding.



"Let us seriously reflect of what a pudding is composed."

Though he would not have been referring to a steamed-in-a-basin sponge pudding (as the method changed in the 20th century), Dr Johnson "indulged in a playful fancy", recorded by Boswell in his Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides (1785), of writing a 'Meditation on a Pudding' after ridiculing a passage about the moon in Hervey's Meditations (perhaps here or here?). You can read it in full here.



According to the Oxford Companion, a sponge pudding is composed "from equal weights of flour, butter, sugar and eggs, and steamed in a basin".

I swapped some of the flour for cocoa powder and added a bit of greek yogurt to loosen the mixture to dropping consistency. I was really pleased with how it worked, though I overcooked the first one (though, really, it didn't make much of a difference). After a few experiments I hit on the right steaming time and a dash of coffee to liven it up.



I bought a 14cm/5.5" enamel pudding basin for my Christmas pudding and I love it - it's attractive, cleans easily and feels like it will last for ages despite being reasonable (you can get it on Amazon here). A 12cm one would also be good - this recipe only fills 2/3 of the 14cm so it wouldn't need changing. The 14cm one takes about 750ml.

Now I've got used to it, I've realised that steaming is a lovely, homely way to cook a pudding. It's especially useful if you've got lots of trays in the oven for the main course or - gasp - don't have an oven.

The batter becomes a light cocoa sponge - it's not heavy or stodgy - and the sauce is a silky, pourable milk-and-cream ganache. The sauce sinks into the sponge, the ice cream melts, the three meld and you have a rich and very pleasing pudding.



Steamed Chocolate Pudding

For the pudding:
55g unsalted butter (at room temperature)
55g soft brown sugar
45g plain flour
10g cocoa powder
3/4 tsp baking powder
a pinch of salt
1 large egg
2 tbsp greek yogurt
1/2 tsp instant espresso powder + 1 tsp boiling water

For the sauce:
75g dark chocolate (70%)
50g double cream
50g milk
15g/1 tbsp brown sugar

Carefully butter a 12-14cm (roughly 5") pudding basin, using plenty of butter so the pudding doesn't stick (I wasn't careful enough with the one in the photos). Place a circle of parchment into the bottom and grease it too. Cream the butter and sugar together. Sieve the flour, cocoa powder, baking powder and salt into the bowl then add the egg, yogurt and combined coffee and water. Beat just until the mixture comes together. Transfer to the buttered basin and level out. Crease a fold into a sheet of parchment-lined foil or a piece of baking parchment and a piece of foil and place over the top of the basin. Secure with a rubber band or a piece of string.

Pour plenty of boiling water (I use at least 3 inches after it boiled dry the first time) into the bottom of the steamer then place the top half with the pudding on top. Place over a high heat to bring back to the boil then turn down to medium-low and leave to steam for 45 minutes.

While it steams, make the sauce. Chop the chocolate into small pieces and place in bowl. Combine the cream, milk and sugar in a small saucepan and heat until steaming and starting to bubble at the edges. Pour over the chocolate and leave for a few minutes then whisk until smooth. Transfer to a jug.

Take out of the steamer and remove the toppings. Check the sponge is cooked by inserting a cake tester or toothpick into the centre - it should come out cleanly. Loosen the sides of the pudding from the basin with a blunt knife. Place the serving plate on top of the basin then flip over. Lift the basin and peel the circle of paper off. Pour some of the sauce over the top of the sponge then let everyone add more to their bowls at the table.

If the sauce has cooled and thickened then re-heat by placing the jug in a saucepan of hot/just simmering water and stirring until thin (you can do this if you have any left, too - both can be kept in the fridge but the sponge isn't as nice as fresh when reheated). Serve with vanilla ice cream.

(Serves 4-5)



Three more chocolate puddings:
Hervé's Two Ingredient Chocolate Mousse
Chocolate Coconut Milk Cake
Choco-Caramel Sauce

Friday, 10 January 2014

Lemon Surprise Pudding



Welcome to PUDDING MONTH.

It's January. It's cold, rainy and a bit miserable. It makes sense to eat warm, comforting puddings that appear shrouded in steam and brighten the long nights.



I decided to kick the month off with this pudding because it's an old family favourite and January makes me think of citrus. It doesn't take too long to make and I usually have all of the ingredients on hand - it's a simple home pudding. I think the recipe might have been originally adapted from Mary Berry's Aga Book - as there's a similar recipe and I know there were a few copies floating around - but Mum thinks Granny started making this before 1994, so I'm not sure.

Once baked, you end up with a lemon-curd-esque layer at the bottom - the 'surprise' - and a fluffy, light lemon sponge on top. Add a dollop of thick double cream and you have a wonderful, multifaceted pudding.



Lemon Surprise Pudding

1 lemon
2 large eggs
110g caster sugar
25g plain flour
15g unsalted butter
pinch of salt
240ml milk (I use whole)

Preheat the oven to the 180C/350F (fan). Grease a small-medium baking dish with relatively high sides (I've used a 6" deep round & a 8"x6" rectangle recently). Juice and rind the lemon and place them in the bowl of a food processor*. Separate the eggs, placing the whites into a clean bowl. Add the yolks to the processor along with the sugar, flour, butter and salt. Blend until smooth then slowly add the milk while the mixer runs. Whip the egg whites to medium peaks. Gently fold the egg whites into the lemon mixture until you have no big lumps of egg white - it looks a bit curdled but don't worry. Carefully transfer the mixture to the greased dish.

Place gently into a small roasting tray and fill with hot water to about halfway up the tin. Transfer carefully to the oven and bake for 30-35 minutes until browned on the top and set. Leave to cool for about 10 minutes then serve warm with thick double cream. It keeps well in the fridge for a couple of days (at least 3) and is also lovely cold.

(Serves 4, easily doubled for a bigger dish)

*If you don't have a food processor, you can rub the butter into the flour then mix in the juice, zest, yolks, sugar and salt before gradually whisking in the milk.



Three more fruity pudding recipes:
Mixed Berry Meringue and Custard
Crumbled Apples
Pear and Caramel Pudding Cake

Thursday, 9 May 2013

Sarah's Syrup Sponge



Sarah, one of my best friends from university, moved back to Scotland when she finished her degree. It's really quite inconvenient.

A few weeks ago I flew up to Edinburgh for a long weekend. On the Friday night, we headed out for dinner at the Scran & Scallie, Tom Kitchin & Dominic Jack's new restaurant. We had a very enjoyable (though maybe a touch over-seasoned) meal and finished it off with 'Alison Jack's Syrup Sponge' (in a fit of curiosity I asked them about Alison Jack's connection to the sponge on twitter - no reply so far, though I presume she is part of Dominic's family).

We shared the pudding - a little round ceramic dish with a thin layer of hot cake soaked from the bottom up in golden syrup with a rich scoop of vanilla ice cream melting languidly into the sponge - and then walked round and round the park, catching up.



As she was driving down with her family last weekend to graduate (Oxford has - of course - got a weird and delayed system for graduations), Sarah made me promise that I'd make syrup sponge for her when she came to stay.

Usually syrup sponges are steamed but as our pudding was baked, I went for that (it's also much faster and less fiddly). Essentially, this is a thin layer of all-in-one brown sugar sponge cloaking a lake of golden syrup.

To create the individual portions we were served, I tried baking it in small ramekins. I didn't get the sponge/syrup ratio or portion size right the first time. The second time I was making it for post-graduation brunch as there was no other time I could make the sponge for Sarah. I didn't know exactly how many people were going to turn up (family plans, hangovers...) so I decided to make it in a bigger dish and slice it up just before serving. Either option works, though with a bigger dish you avoid the hazard of serving piping hot ramekins.



Before you ask, I don't think there is a substitute for golden syrup in this recipe - just like treacle tart, it's the whole point. Also, please don't ignore the salt - you need it to balance out the sweetness (just like salted caramel).

As it cools, the sponge soaks up syrupy sauce, so for pudding it's best to eat it while it's still hot. When it gets cold it's a treacle-tart-cake cross, which is really quite delightful (and perhaps easier to understand for those who haven't grown up with treacle tart).



It's worth keeping in mind that the point of this pudding is that it's sweet - sweeter than I'd normally go for, but that's the pleasure of it. I now serve little squares - six per batch - but you could do four, or even fewer. I find 1/6 with ice cream just right - it leaves me feeling satisfied but not stuffed or woozy. It would be easy to scale this recipe up for a crowd - I can imagine serving it at a big party from a roasting tray. You can also serve it with a few berries, now summer is coming. I had some strawberries on hand when I made this yesterday, which gave a juicy colour contrast. I think some tart raspberries would pair well too.

It was surprisingly emotional watching my friends graduate (and scary to think that mine was a year ago and that it's two years since I was slaving away for finals). The next morning, we had our brunch. We had a plaited milk loaf (from Scandilicious Baking) with lots of different spreads, croissants and pain au chocolat from the bakery, chunky slices of bacon, feta & spring onion frittata (from the Smitten Kitchen Cookbook) and lots and lots of tea. Then I served up slices of hot syrup sponge with a big, melting scoop of ice cream. The room fell silent for a minute.

Sarah gave it her approval.



Sarah's Syrup Sponge

3 generous tbsp golden syrup
1 egg
1/4 tsp vanilla extract
50g unsalted butter, at room temperature*
50g plain flour
40g light brown sugar
1/4 tsp baking powder
2 pinches of salt

Preheat the oven to 160C/320F. Spoon the golden syrup into the bottom of a dish (roughly 7x5"/18x13cm) or 4-6 ramekins (about 3"/7cm) and let it spread out. Lightly beat the egg and vanilla together. Place the butter into the bowl of a stand mixer (or use a electric hand whisk) and beat for a minute to soften. Sift the flour, sugar, baking powder and salt into the bowl then add the egg mixture and beat just until combined. Spoon the batter over the syrup then spread it out into an even layer. Bake for around 25 minutes for one sponge and around 10-15 minutes for ramekins - the sponge should have risen and set, turned golden brown and you should be able to remove a toothpick cleanly. Slice and serve straight away with vanilla ice cream (let the ramekins cool a bit - the heat in the ramekin will keep the syrup at the bottom very hot at first) and possibly some fruit.

(Serves 4-6)

* You can also use salted butter and not add the pinches of salt.



Three more recipes that use golden syrup:
Gingernuts
Salted Caramel Brownies
Treacle Tart

Saturday, 4 February 2012

Bread & Butter Pudding



When I first started getting interested in photography, about five years ago, my grandfather handed me his camera. It's a Nikkormat (Nikon) FT from somewhere between 1965-7.

I thought it looked incredibly cool but didn't really know what to do with it. I had no concept of exposure at that point, having only ever used a digital point-and-shoot. I took a film but when I had it developed the envelope contained a discouraging sheet of blanks.

It moved from house to house, shelf to shelf, collecting dust. In one move, it was accidentally dropped and the rewind mechanism sheared off.



I finally got around to taking it to the specialists a few weeks ago for a full service and several repairs. When I finally got it back home again, I managed to complete the alien process of loading film after studying the manual. I took my first 24 exposures in 24 hours, rushing it to the developers as soon as possible.

Thankfully all 24 came out. I made mistakes and they're not perfect - but I was thrilled. The feeling of opening that envelope was priceless.

I can't wait to experiment with photographing food (and friends and places and...) on film. The photos below are a sample of my first film - a shot of the park in the afternoon light and one of my orchid (I thought I'd killed it by leaving it over Christmas but the one of the two remaining buds suddenly burst open that day).

Aside from the fascinating process - being forced to work without electronic gizmos and screens, the proper shutter noise, the agonizing wait to see how they've turned out - I love the character of film. I can't quite put my finger on what it is, but there's something special.



We made brioche in class this week. I intentionally left some to go stale just so I could make this pudding. The bread needs to be stale so that it doesn't disintegrate into a soggy mess when soaked.



I've left this recipe open to adaption. I made it with my marmalade as that's what I had to hand - I didn't add any extra peel/dried fruit. I brûléed a few of the peaks with some cinnamon-infused caster sugar after I'd taken it out of the oven for some crunch and flavour. The dusting of icing sugar was for purely aesthetic purposes.

I also really like the classic version with nutmeg, currants or sultanas and maybe a bit of quality mixed peel. Chocolate chips could sex it up. Try out different combinations and see what you like.

This is a proper pudding. Winter days were made for proper puddings.



Bread & Butter Pudding
(adapted from Delia's Complete Cookery Course)

Base:
4-8* slices of stale white bread (such as brioche)
unsalted butter, to spread
175ml milk
25ml cream
20g sugar
little lemon zest
2 eggs

Additions:
currants/sultanas/fruits/chopped chocolate etc - handful/approx 30g
sprinkle of spices - nutmeg, cinnamon etc
marmalade/jam/maybe lemon curd - few tbsps
icing or caster sugar to dust/caramelize

Start by buttering one or both sides of the bread, depending on how decadent you're feeling. If you're using jam or marmalade, sandwich the slices with a slick of the preserve. Cut in half into triangles. Stick into a dish (mine was about , standing up or propped up against each other.

In a jug mix the milk, cream, sugar and zest together. In another bowl break up the eggs. Whisk the two liquids together. Pour all over the bread. It seems like there's too much liquid but don't worry. Leave to sit for 15-20 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 180C/350F. Sprinkle with any currants/etc. I also dusted the bread poking out with a little cinnamon sugar. Pop into the oven and bake for 30-40 minutes - the custard should be golden brown and set and the bread should be crispy on top. You can caramelize some caster sugar on the bread with a blow torch or dust with icing sugar - or both!

I find this is best eaten warm.

* Depends on size - mine were very small so I used 8, normal loaves you'll need 4-6.

(Serves 2-4)

Monday, 14 November 2011

Queen of Puddings



Expectation is a funny thing.

It starts off from a rose-tinted idea in your mind. You call it a dream and think of how much lovlier your life will be when exams end or new adventures start. Some of these plans never come to fruition - the warm glow fades before it even happens and you turn to the next brightest flame.

It's not that reality is better or worse, just different.

I wonder why we can't keep that warm glow alive once it becomes reality. Maybe it's just that - reality cannot be perfect and there are always difficult or testing parts, however small. It feels so romantic to say and believe that you're following your dream, but I wonder if it is too much pressure. Maybe the only way to live is to try and focus on today rather than the future.



I couldn't decide which traditional pudding to make for this post, so I put it to the vote on facebook (I've also updated the page and added an album of black and white outtakes from posts). The choices were a baked custard tart (a.k.a. Henry IV's coronation dulcet - I nearly made this just because it mentions that Chaucer was at the feast), a Sussex pond pudding or this, the Queen of Puddings.

Jane Grigson describes the Queen of Puddings as "a pudding that deserves its name for the perfect combination of flavours and tastes, a most subtle and lovely way to end a meal".

How can a pudding live up to "perfect", to being the winner, to being deemed the "Queen"? It's just like an experience living up to the rosy 'dream' we have called it.


The pudding is definitely "lovely" and "subtle". The custard is warm and nubbly from the breadcrumbs (don't skimp on the vanilla and lemon zest as it brings it to life). The raspberry is only a hint, but it adds another layer of flavour. The meringue is pillowy like pavlova inside and crisp on the outside.

The reality is delicious, but it wasn't quite what I was expecting. It's no worse for that.

Time moves on. The dust settles, familiarity forms and habits are set into place. The next 'dream' or 'queen' recipe slips into the previous place, altered by your new experience. The cycle starts again, pushing you forward onto the next plan, the next idea.

I try to live for today, but my dreams and plans for the future are what drives me - striving for something gives me purpose in life. As with most things, a balance is probably the answer. To not wish the present away but hold onto those dreams. To anchor your feet but keep those brightly coloured balloons tightly wrapped around your hand, propelling you forwards.



Queen of Puddings
(adapted from Jane Grigson's English Food)

For the custard base:
75g fresh white breadcrumbs
zest of 2/3 lemon
2 tsp sugar
1/2 tsp vanilla paste or extract
300ml milk
30g unsalted butter, cubed
pinch of salt
2 egg yolks
1 heaped tbsp raspberry jam or jelly
1/2 tsp lemon juice

For the meringue:
2 egg whites
70g caster sugar (I used golden)

Preheat the oven to 180C/350F. In a medium bowl combine the breadcrumbs, zest and sugar. Stir the milk, butter and salt in a medium saucepan and set over the heat. When the butter has melted into a golden film on the surface and the mixture is steaming but not boiling, pour it over the breadcrumbs. Mix together then let it stand for 10 minutes.

Beat the egg yolks into the breadcrumb mix with a spoon or spatula (not a whisk - you don't want to add air). Pour into a shallow ovenproof dish that holds approximately 750ml. Place into the oven and bake for about 20 minutes, or until the custard is set but still wibbles in the middle (you will be baking it again, so err on the side of underdone). Lower the oven to 150C/300F.

Warm the jam or jelly in a small saucepan with the lemon juice, stirring to combine. Sieve if you've using jam with seeds. Spread over the custard gently, being careful not to break the skin.

Whip the egg whites until they are firm and hold soft peaks. Sprinkle half the sugar over the top and whisk to combine. Repeat with the other half and then whip until stiff and satiny. Spoon the meringue on top of the jam and swirl, making sure it meets the sides of the dish. Place back in the oven and bake for about 25-30 minutes or until golden and crisp to the touch. Serve hot alone or with cream.

(Serves 3-4)

Sunday, 2 October 2011

Lemon Posset


As you may have heard on twitter or facebook, I started my pâtisserie diploma at Le Cordon Bleu in London on Friday!

I'm really excited about starting my training and all the things I'm going to learn (though I'm less enthused about the amount of washing and ironing I'm going to have to do to keep my whites clean and crisp for every session - we lose marks if they're not!). I'm also frankly terrified of my knife set, having been told it's razor sharp and that I will cut myself. Eek.


Lemon posset seems to be having a bit of a moment, particularly on gastropub menus. I don't blame them - it's quick, delicious, prepared ahead and uses only 3 ingredients.

Despite the claims that often get thrown around about it being a historical pudding, I can't find any mention of this form of posset (not the curdled milk and ale drink) in my older cookery books (in any of my books, actually - the recipes I altered are all online). It's thick, rich and creamy but lightened by the lemon. Almost like a subtle, extra creamy lemon curd.

I'm going to try 120g of sugar instead of 140g another time for a bit more zing - hopefully it won't upset the chemistry. I've left the recipe at 140g below but feel free to experiment with less sugar, though I can't guarantee it will work!



Lemon Posset
(Adapted from a combination of Food 52, James Martin and Nigel Slater)

300ml double cream
140g caster sugar
juice of 1 lemon

Place the cream and sugar in a large saucepan. Put over a medium heat and stir until the sugar has dissolved. Turn the heat up slightly and bring to a boil. Once the mixture is bubbling, keep it going for 3 minutes then remove from the heat. Leave to cool for a minute, then stir in the lemon juice. Leave to cool in the pan for 15 minutes, then pour into ramekins or glasses - 4 bigger portions or 6 smaller. Chill in the fridge for at least 3 hours before serving. Serve alone, with a few summer fruits, a fruity coulis and/or a crisp biscuit such as shortbread.

(Serves 4-6)


Tuesday, 16 March 2010

Sticky Toffee Pudding Volcanoes


I first made these for my Mum last Mothers' Day. This year I made them again for pudding and they were very nice - but not stunning.  I've always like Sticky Toffee Puddings - they're reliably good pub puddings - but they've never really blown me away. 

Today I decided to re-photograph one of the remaining cakes as I hadn't got what I wanted on the night. So I made up another batch of sauce but this time I added a new touch  -  a little ground ginger. I tasted some and immediately went to find mum to force a spoonful into her mouth as it was so lovely, but I still wasn't 100% sure it would work with the puddings. So I brushed and poured it over and started taking photos. The dogs and Mum were all hovering close by, waiting for me to finish - and I have to admit, I really wanted to just quit and and discover how it all came together. 


When I finally finished we attacked. I had to do a little happy dance around the flat. The ginger takes the pudding to another level - every flavour is enhanced. It's also totally addictive - despite having just eaten tea we ate the whole thing (including the spare sauce) in about two minutes flat. 


I named these volcanoes because of the way they puffed up and broke the surface when they baked. I had decided that instead of making squares cut from a tray, I would use individual dessert tins.  I popped them in the oven with a little trepidation as to how they would turn out. Turns out it's a good thing I quite like the rustic, uneven look... 

Still, it turned out to be for the best as it meant I could fill the middles with ginger butterscotch 'lava' which then soaked through the sponge and that's definitely a good thing.  Look at the final photo and you'll see what I mean!


I dedicate these to my Mum, for being absolutely wonderful and for teaching me to follow my intuition and sprinkle a little ginger into something on a whim.  



Edit: My new and improved recipe for Sticky Toffee Pudding is here.

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