Emiko's Elderflower & Polenta Cookies

I've decided to start a new series of recipe reviews. Each month I'll pick a recipe that has been posted online on a blog, website, newspaper or somewhere else. It might be a recipe that intrigues me, an unusual process, something that I can't imagine the texture or flavour of or just something that I really want to eat. I'll make it, photograph the process, honestly tell you what I think and link to the recipe.

To start, I have a Pinterest board filled with recipes I'd like to try. If there's one you're particularly interested in, like it on the board and I'll take it into account.

I'd also love to hear if you have any new suggestions - if you could leave a note with a link in the comments or send me an email that would be wonderful.



So, for July: Polenta and Elderflower Cookies by Emiko Davies.

This recipe easily covers the 'intrigued', 'unusual process' and 'can't imagine the texture or flavour' categories.

Emiko is one of my favourite bloggers. She lived in Florence for many years before moving to Melbourne with her Italian husband and baby daughter. This recipe comes from Artusi's 1891 cookbook, Science in the Kitchen and the Art of Eating Well, a source of many of Emiko's recipes. I always learn something from her posts - without fail, they're both beautiful and intelligent.

Every year, I make my family's elderflower cordial recipe (the photo above is of this year's batch). It's one of my favourite drinks and a ritual I look forward to. Before I read Emiko's post, I didn't know you could cook with dried elderflower - I'd only heard of cordials, syrups, wines and other drinks.



In the comments, we had a chat about how to get dried elderflower - Emiko bought hers as high-quality tea but I was wondering if I could dry my own.

So, when I went out to collect the flowers for my cordial, I picked a few extra to dry (the same rules apply - make sure it's from a secluded spot away from traffic with healthy, creamy-white flowers). I used a needle and thread to string them up by the stem between the handle of my window and a nail in the wall that I hang a lovely Dutch cake tin on (here's another photo). After a few days they seemed to have dried out - in the end, I left them for a week.

Once I'd taken them down, I gently stripped the flowers off the stalks with my fingers. It was a bit of a pain - the dried stalks snap easily and fall into the bowl - but in the end I had heap of flowers in the bottom with a film of pollen coating the china.



The recipe is simple - you cream the butter and sugar, add an egg yolk, then stir in the polenta and elderflower. The dough is then rolled out, cut and baked until golden. The mixture is easy to work with - as it has no gluten, you can reshape and roll without worrying.

The final texture is, for lack of a better word, gritty - but that's surprisingly pleasant, in a crunchy sort of way. I think if I make them again I might use a mix of polenta and flour, to balance out but still maintain the crunch.

I thought they tasted best straight out of the oven. The flavour of the elderflower is distinctive and recognisable from the cordials but slightly dustier and, well, dried. It reminds me of the difference in smell and taste between fresh and dried herbs. I ate one with a cup of Earl Grey and the elderflower really pulled out the bergamot flavour, which I don't normally notice.

In conclusion: a fun experiment, an unusual texture and a new way of using elderflower.



Some notes on the recipe:

- I halved the recipe as I only dried four heads of elderflower. I'm not sure exactly how much the dried elderflower weighed but I had a small handful overall and I used it all. I made eleven cookies from the dough.

- I used precotta instantanea polenta, as that was finer than the bramata, which was the only other type I could find. I had to go to an Italian deli - I couldn't find it in the supermarket except as a ready-cooked slab.

- I used icing sugar and unsalted butter (I was going to add a pinch of salt but forgot). I didn't need to add water.

- My butter was a bit warm as it was a hot day so I chilled my dough for 15 minutes to cool it down before I rolled it out.

- They took 10 minutes to cook.



Three other posts where I've linked to the recipe:
Seed Cake
Chez Panisse Almond Tart
Cumin and Lemon Cookies

Treacle Flapjacks

"Ther gooth a brook, and over that a brigge,
Upon the whiche brook ther stant a melle"

The Reeve's Tale, Geoffrey Chaucer

When we were in the Lakes a few weeks ago, we decided to visit Little Salkeld Watermill, one of the few remaining working watermills in the country. It's a charming place. Loose chickens scratch around in the car park. At the back, you can walk down a tiny pathway through the bushes to see the clear water swoosh rhythmically down the wheel. If you climb the steep wooden stairs through the faint haze of dust you can see the huge, grooved millstones at work, grinding flour from wheat, barley, rye and spelt.

One of the millers took us on a very extensive tour, demonstrating and explaining how each part moved and linked to the next (I think he took a bit of a fancy to mum... though thankfully our visit didn't end up quite as eventful as Chaucer's tale). I really recommend it if you're nearby - it's fascinating to see the ancient technology in action.



The mill also has a lovely tearoom and shop where you can buy the flour. Though I didn't think they looked that interesting, I bought a treacle flapjack after our lunch, mainly out of curiosity. My first bite was ok. Yet as I kept eating, the flavours started to develop. By the end, I was smitten.



When I got home, I started playing around with various flapjack recipes. At first I didn't think an all-treacle flapjack would be right, so I used varying ratios of treacle to golden syrup. They were delicious (a tablespoon or two of treacle adds depth and takes away some of the sweetness) but they weren't what I'd eaten. I then found a Cranks recipe online and decided to brave a full treacle version. It worked.



They're dark, sort of malty, a tiny bit salty and incredibly addictive.

I've had serious issues resisting them. I ended up skipping supper one night - which very rarely happens - so I can definitely attest to their ability to keep hunger at bay (except for the hunger for more flapjacks, of course).



Treacle Flapjacks
(adapted from the Cranks recipe)

150g unsalted butter
75g black treacle
75g brown sugar
pinch of fine sea salt
225g porridge oats

Preheat the oven to 180C/350F. Crumple up a bit of baking parchment and line a 7"/18cm round tin (or similar). Add the butter, treacle, sugar and salt to a big pan and place over a low heat, stirring until the butter has melted. Turn off the heat then stir in the oats. Scoop into the tin and press down. Bake for 23-25 minutes until the edges have darkened. Leave to cool then slice up when they're just slightly warm (if you do it too soon they crumble). They keep in an airtight tin for 4-5 days, maybe a bit longer.

(Makes 12-14 small flapjacks)



Three other posts that involve oats:
2012: Cranberry Oatmeal Cookies
2011: Porridge
2009: Ginger Oat Biscuits