Digestive biscuits

I can  get digestives in Italy, but I'm not prepared to pay the silly price they ask for them. I started to make these in order to have them for use in making the base for cheesecake (most notably, either the lemon cheesecake from Stephen Bull or else his peanut butter version, either of which is excellent) - the Technical Dept greeted with derision the fact that I was making biscuits merely in order to throw them into the food processor to be crushed to smithereens....but he is possibly unaware that a significant number remain, and are consumed surreptitiously with a cup of tea at the end of an afternoon's gardening. Long may he remain in ignorance!

This recipe comes from the internet - from an irish cook who's name now entirely escapes me - and could not be more straightforward.

For approx 16 biscuits (I use a large cutter, and so the number will obviously be greater if  a regular size biscuit cutter is used)

Ingredients:

225 g wholemeal flour; 120 g butter; 90 g sugar; 1 tsp baking powder; 1/2 tsp salt; 60 ml milk.

Method:

1. Heat the oven to 180 degrees C.

2. In a food processor, blitz together all of the ingredients except the milk, and then add the milk once everything else has been thoroughly amalgamated.

3. Roll out the biscuit dough on a floured surface to approx 2 mm thickness and cut out the biscuit rounds. Re-roll the scraps and continue until all the dough has been used.

4. Bake for 20 minutes. Allow to sit for a couple of minutes before removing the biscuits from the baking tray, and then let them sit on a rack for about 30 minutes before storing them in an airtight box.

Ginger Creme Brulee

First class! Light and delicious, and refreshingly surprising for those who have no expectation before they break through the crust of the ginger flavour which is about to assail them. This is one from the ever-reliable Michel Roux. 

For three.

Ingredients:  

40g ginger root; 250 ml milk; 250 ml cream; 75g caster sugar; 5 egg yolks; 35g demarara sugar.

Method:

1. Peel the ginger and dice it very finely. Place the dice in a square of muslin or a small muslin bag and squeeze hard to get as much juice as possible into a small bowl (a surprising amount of juice will be generated).

2. Heat the milk, cream and 45g of the caster sugar in a simmertopf until hot. 

3. Whisk the egg yolks with the remaining caster sugar and pour over this mixture the heated cream. Whisk to incorporate thoroughly, and then incorporate the ginger juice.

4. Pour into egg dishes, and then cook for about 55 minutes in a 100 degree C oven. When they come out of the oven they should be lightly set, but still slightly wobbly in the centre.

5. Allow to cool, and then refrigerate for at least two hours.

6. Before serving, sprinkle the surface of the cremes with demarara sugar and apply a blowtorch. Refrigerate again thereafter for at least ten minutes before taking them to table.

Pear and Almond Cake

This year's pear harvest was the best yet, with wonderfully juicy fruit coming from a succession of different trees over several months. (We also had a splendid apple crop, whilst peaches were definitely fewer than normal, plums ditto, and apricots and almonds non-existent - presumably all a reflection of the stage the various trees were at when the Beast from the East hit, in late Spring. Hazelnuts were pretty good, come to think of it, but nectarines made almost no appearance, likewise walnuts, and the quince harvest was definitely light; Cachi are ripening only just about now, and although Paola did manage to present me with one a week ago which was sweet and  inoffensive, I have still to be convinced about them as an idea.)

Poached pears, Tartine Perigourdine, Tarte Bordaloue, Pear Sorbet, Pear Souffle, Pear Strudel...and this recipe. I found it on an american blog, and I came back to it time and again in the course of the summer - to the point that I realised that I really ought to write it down, before it mysteriously disappears, as things on the internet have a habit of doing. The writer called it 'Italian', which I rather doubt - in my experience, Italian baking tends to be noticeably  'solid', whilst this cake is light and airy and generally delicious. I have replicated the original in using volumetric measures for all ingredients except the almonds, where inexplicably the measure is given as a weight - I could have gone to the trouble to translate this also into a volumetric measure...but, then, so I suppose could you. I've also added in a dash of almond essence, as I generally do when a recipe calls for ground almonds, since they rarely have any decent flavour these days. The marscapone cream is an entirely optional serving suggestion, but it is delicious (and works very well, too, with apple pie...)

Ingredients: 9 tbs butter; 9 tbs sugar; 3 medium eggs; 7 tbs plain flour; 3.5 oz ground almonds; 1 tsp almond essence; 0.5 tsp baking powder; 2 medium pears, peeled, cored and quartered;  a light handful of slivered almonds. (for the  marscapone cream: 100g Mascarpone;  grated zest of one orange plus tbs orange juice; 2 tbs marsala; sugar, to taste)

Method:

1. Pre-heat the oven to 175 degrees C.

2. In a food processor, cream together the butter and sugar, and then add the eggs, followed by the flour, almonds and essence and baking powder. Process briefly.

3. Transfer the mixture to a prepared 20 cm cake tin (buttered, and with a disc of greaseproof paper in the base). Place the pear quarters evenly around the top of the cake, and sprinkle with the slivered almonds. 

4. Bake for around 30 minutes, until done. Leave to cool in the tin, and dust the top with icing sugar to serve.

5. For the mascarpone cream, whisk together all of the ingredients until thoroughly amalgamated.

The Path Less Travelled...

Finally, after years (literally) of dithering, we bit the bullet, and came to a decision about making a proper path between the agrumi terrace and the centre of the garden. You'd think it would be a simple decision.....ha! Gravel? Brick? Grass? Width? Length? Design? Oh, no...this was about as complicated a process as setting up the League of Nations.

And, of course, the decision was made and then instituted just as we entered the hottest period of the year. Which meant that Giancarlo would manage two spadefuls of whatever, before lapsing into dazed immobility, as he stared into space and contemplated nothing. Every time he disappeared for lunch (which was often), I would pick up his tools and get another chunk of work done before his return, several hours later - but, in the end, we had to suggest that he left the finishing-off stage of the work to us,  to be done in the relative cool of the evenings.

The path terminates at what will be (soon, I hope) a new fountain, situated perfectly centrally to the entire garden. Having arrived there by walking between the agrumi garden and the Woodland, the fountain (which, for some reason, we're calling 'the Well')  then gives onto the North and South Lawns, with access to the left to the start of the pergola and to the right to the steps which lead down to the box-edged paths. I wanted to call it The Well of Loneliness...but TD, for childish reasons of his own that we need not go into,  has christened it instead 'The Abastanza Pozzo'.

He is still sorting out the paving around the Well, itself - although, creation of all the pieces of the jigsaw is complete, and so we're really at the final stages of installation, and even the power supply from which to run the fountain has been checked and found to function  properly.

The feline four-footeds decided to try out the 'jigsaw' for size...

But rapidly got bored, and concluded instead that it made a surprisingly comfortable place for a snooze. 

Soon, the calming sound of plashing should populate that part of the garden. And, come the autumn, the path will be planted densely on both sides with a collection of lacecap hydrangeas ( a hybrid of macrophylla and serrate, to take the relative shade beneath the citrus trees).

Tonight's Dinner:

Ham & Melon (at this time of year, incomparably good!)

Pork Boulangère

Tarte Bourdaloue (we're in Pear season - four tress currently fruiting heavily in the North Garden)

Kedgeree

Do people ever make kedgeree, any more? I suspect, only very rarely. And I can't remember the last time I had it served to me by somebody else.
A memory from childhood, when I suppose we were occasionally (very occasionally) given it as a breakfast treat, it remains one of those dishes that comes as close to perfection as I can think of: the flavour, the texture and the quintessential more-ish-ness of the thing. For years, I suppose I'd almost forgotten its existence, before re-discovering it not so long ago and firmly placing it back within my repertoire, generally to be served as a supper first course, and on high days and holidays as something to be served for breakfast. As the centre-piece for a Boxing Day brunch, IMHO, it cannot be bettered.
This version is a slight re-working of a recipe set down, several decades ago now,  by Frances Bissell.

Serves 6.

Ingredients: 1 tbs olive oil; 1 medium onion, diced; 6 cardamom pods, crushed; 3 cloves; 340g basmati rice; 850 ml fish stock ; 340g smoked haddock, skin-removed; 3 eggs, hard-boiled; 1 tsp curry powder; 1 tbs cream; seasoning.

Method:

1. Heat the oil in a large pan (one which has a lid) and cook the diced onion until it has properly softened - about five minutes.

2. Grind the cardamom and cloves together in a pestle-and-mortar, and add to the pan, along with the rice; stir to amalgamate everything thoroughly. Add the fish stock, bring to the boil, and then reduce to a simmer. Covered, let the rice cook for about twenty minutes, until all of the liquid has been absorbed.

3. Flake the fish and mix it, along with the curry powder and the chopped-up eggs,, into the rice; with the lid on the pan, let it heat through for a further four or five minutes. Add seasoning, to taste. Stir in the cream, to give a firm but unctuous texture.

Serve.

Some finely chopped parsley as a garnish doesn't hurt, if you have any to hand.

Let's hope this dreary winter is over...!

Two weeks ago...

And, three days ago:

Tonight's Dinner:

Kedgeree

Steak frites (which is possible, since we're in dreary dismal London for the weekend, whilst the aged parent - who can't deal with steak any longer - is sitting back in balmy Italy...we can wallow self-indulgently in food-with-no-threat-to-false-teeth!)

Chocolate Mousse, with fresh raspberries