Clementine Ricotta Doughnuts

Why do we only hang chocolate shapes and cookies from garlands and trees? Why not doughnuts?

They already look like little wreaths, after all. Wouldn't it be a lovely addition to your autumnal table for a party? I'm always up for making dessert or a tea snack into a fun event in itself.



I threaded and knotted them onto a piece of raffia in a string, but you could also tie each one individually to a branch (a bit like the sweet cakes in this lovely tiger in a jar video). Or even your Christmas tree. (Apologies for the early use of the C-word, but I had to mention it...)



The book I adapted this recipe from, Doughnuts, is fabulous. I had no idea there were so many versions and creative options. These are cake doughnuts, so they're easy to make and very quick - no yeast involved.

The method for getting cake doughnuts into the oil without a fancy machine is so clever. You pipe them onto greased paper and then drop them into the oil on the paper, which then loosens and you can remove it. Forgive me if it is common knowledge, but I was fascinated.



I adore clementines (and satsumas and tangerines - how are we meant to tell them apart?). I used to eat them by the bagful as a child. My beautiful old dog Silver loves them too. Probably partly because when she was a puppy I used to peel them and play 'one for you, one for me' with her (sharing my clementines was a gesture of great love).

Clementines are traditional stocking fillers here. One Christmas my belief in a certain someone was fatally wounded when I found a packet of clementines I had carefully marked with a pen so nobody else ate them at the end of my bed...

I bought my first bag of the winter a few days ago and so these doughnuts were born. I was going to show you a photo of the insides but I lost track of my thoughts while shooting and ate the halved one. Whoops. What can I say - they're rather moreish.



Clementine Ricotta Doughnuts
(adapted from Lara Ferroni's Doughnuts)

For the doughnuts:
120g plain flour
40g caster sugar
1 and 1/3 tsp baking powder
grating of fresh nutmeg
pinch of salt
zest of a clementine
2 eggs
150g ricotta
1/2 tsp vanilla
oil, to fry*

For the glaze:
50g icing sugar
1 tsp honey (to taste)
juice of 1 clementine (approx)

Sift the flour, baking powder, nutmeg, salt and sugar into a bowl. In another bowl whisk the zest, eggs, ricotta and vanilla together. Stir the wet ingredients into the dry until combine - try to not overmix, but you don't want lumps of flour. Scoop into a piping bag and set to one side.

Decide how many doughnuts you'll be able to fry at once (I could do two) and cut that number of 4" squares of greaseproof/parchment paper. Grease the squares with a little extra oil. Place a wad of kitchen towels to the side of your stove. In a heavy bottomed pot with a thermometer (deep-frying or sugar) heat approximately 2 inches of oil to 360F. Pipe circles on the greased paper of about 3 inches.

When the oil hits the right temperature, lower one upside down into the oil (check with one, then do more). The paper will start to loosen - take it out with some heatproof tongs. Cook until golden brown then turn and cook the other side. This only took about 45 seconds on each side for me. Remove with a slotted spoon to the kitchen paper. Repeat until you've used all the mixture.

Sieve the icing sugar into a medium bowl. Add the juice bit by bit until you have a paste, then add the honey. Finally adjust the consistency with more juice until you have a thin glaze. Dip the doughnuts into the glaze (either one side or both). Set onto a wire rack.

*I used sunflower oil but safflower, peanut or canola also would be good.

(makes about 12-15 doughnuts)

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)