Dancing at the Victory Cafe
Page 16
5. Pour the batter into the greased lined tin and bake in a moderate oven until the edges are crisp and slightly coming away from the sides of the tin, about 25–30 minutes.
6. Cool and cut into brownie fingers.
Shropshire Fidget Pie
SERVES 6
450g (1lb) potatoes
450g (1lb) apples
1 tablespoon sugar if required
225g (8oz) ham or bacon, diced
salt and pepper
150ml (¼ pint) stock, cider or beer
225g (8oz) rich shortcrust pastry, chilled and rested a little milk
Oven: 350°F (180°C) Gas Mark 4.
1. Peel and slice the potatoes thinly.
2. Peel, core and slice the apples, and sprinkle sugar over them if tart.
3. Arrange the potato, ham and apple in layers in a deep pie dish, seasoning each layer.
4. Cover with the stock.
5. Roll out the pastry, cover the pie, and decorate with trimmings. Glaze with a little milk.
6. Cook low down in a moderate oven for 1 hour.
Tea Cup Loaf
8–10 SLICES
Use a standard sized tea cup.
1 cup sultanas or ½ cup sultanas and ½ cup chopped dates
2 cups cold strong tea
2 cups self-raising flour
½ cup brown sugar
I dessertspoon dark treacle (warmed first in the tin)
enough milk to soften the dough
Oven: 325°F (170°C) Gas Mark 3.
1. Soak the sultanas, or sultanas and chopped dates, overnight in the cold tea. Strain any surplus tea.
2. Mix the flour, soaked fruit and sugar together.
3. Add the warmed treacle with a little milk, and mix together.
4. Grease a loaf tin well and put in the mixture.
5. Bake in the lower part of a moderate oven for about 1½ hours.
Welcome Home! Pudding
SERVES 6
750g (1½ lb) fresh fruits (raspberries, redcurrants, halved plums, blackcurrants, chopped apples etc.) or 450g (1lb) sliced rhubarb and 50g (2oz) soaked prunes
300ml (½ pint) water
225g (8oz) sliced bread
50g (2oz) sugar
1. Stew the fruit gently in the water until tender.
2. Grease a pudding basin, and line the bottom and sides with triangles of sliced bread, keeping the trimmings for the middle layers.
3. Strain the juice from the fruit pulp, and soak the bread in the basin thoroughly with most of it.
4. Fill the basin with alternate layers of bread, fruit and sugar. Finish with a layer of bread on top. Pack it very tightly, then pour the remaining juice over the bread cover.
5. Weight the top with a saucer and weight, and leave to chill overnight.
6. Ease the pudding away from the sides of the basin gently, then turn out onto a deep plate. Cover with any remaining juices.
Garnish with mint leaves and berries, and serve with cream.
Bortsch
SERVES 4
25g (1oz) dripping or margarine
1 large beetroot, peeled and grated
2 potatoes, peeled and grated
1 large carrot, peeled and grated
1 onion, peeled and grated
350g (12oz) cabbage, very finely shredded
1 stick celery, grated
1 large bunch of fresh herbs in season (parsley, marjoram, bay leaf), plus a few cloves
stock (preferably made from the remains of poultry carcasses)
1. Melt the dripping in a large pan and fry the beetroot for 5 minutes.
2. Add all the other vegetables to the beetroot, along with the herbs and cloves, and cover with good stock.
3. Bring to the boil. Remove any scum.
4. Put on the lid, and simmer slowly for 2 hours. Pick out the herbs and cloves, then liquidise or leave chunky.
To serve, add a whirl of soured cream and a sprinkling of chopped parsley.
Spicy Sauce to Perk up a Grill
SERVES 4
2 shallots, peeled and chopped
1 tablespoon oil
2 tablespoons malt vinegar
10 peppercorns, crushed
2 tablespoons brown sauce
½ teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
½ teaspoon made-up mustard
1 tablespoon dark brown sugar
1 tablespoon tomato paste
1. Sauté the shallots in the oil until golden.
2. Add the rest of the ingredients, and simmer gently to reduce.
3. Sweeten further to taste.
Serve with grilled meat or sausages.
Victory Pie
SERVES 4–6
225g (8oz) haricot beans, soaked in water overnight and drained
600ml (1 pint) water
1 tablespoon dripping
1 onion, peeled and chopped
1 cm (½ in) fresh root ginger bruised, or 2 teaspoons powdered ginger
225g (8oz) ham, bacon or pork if available, diced
1 large cooking apple, cored and sliced
1 teaspoon made-up mustard
1 tablespoon molasses (black treacle will do) salt and pepper
Pie topping
50g (2oz) breadcrumbs
50g (2oz) national flour
50g (2oz) oatmeal
100g (4oz) margarine
a little grated cheese and dried mixed herbs to garnish
Oven: 350°F (180°C) Gas Mark 4.
1. Cook the beans in the water for about one and a half hours. Drain and reserve some of the stock.
2. Heat the fat in a pan and lightly fry the onion, ginger, meat, and finally apple.
3. Place in a pie dish with the mustard, molasses and a little of the reserved stock. Season to taste with salt and pepper.
4. Blend together the breadcrumbs, flour, oatmeal and margarine in a bowl to a crumble texture, and firm over the top of the pie.
5. Sprinkle with grated cheese and dried herbs. Place in the bottom of a moderate oven and bake for 1 hour.
Elderflower Champagne
ENOUGH FOR 4 WINE BOTTLES
Juice and grated rind of 2 precious lemons
4 fresh elderflower heads, pick on a dry day
2 tablespoons white vinegar
600g (1 ¼ lb) white sugar
4 generous litres (1 gallon) water
1. Place all the ingredients in a large bowl, and leave, covered, for 24 hours.
2. Strain and bottle.
3. Leave for at least two weeks before drinking, but not for too long, or it will serve as a hand grenade!
Belle’s Utility Christmas Pudding 1944 (no fat!)
SERVES 6
750g (1½ lb) available dried fruit (figs, prunes, dates, sultanas, raisins etc)
stout, rum or brandy
175g (6oz) national flour
a pinch of salt
1 teaspoon mixed spice
100g (4oz) breadcrumbs
2 tablespoons dark treacle (warmed first in the tin) grated
peel of 1 orange and lemon, plus the juice if possible
3 eggs, beaten, or equivalent reconstituted egg
150ml (¼ pint) milk
150ml (¼ pint) stout or cider
225g (8oz) carrots, peeled and grated
1. Soak the dried fruit overnight in enough stout, rum or brandy to cover. Use any not absorbed in the pudding.
2. Mix the dry ingredients into the bowl of soaked dried fruit.
3. Add the warmed treacle, citrus rind and juice, beaten eggs, milk and stout.
4. Add the grated carrot, stir up, and make a wish!
5. Put into a greased 1.4 litre (two and a half pint) pudding basin, and cover with greased butter paper and muslin. Seal tightly.
6. Steam in a pan of water, covered for 6 hours. Keep checking the water level, topping up if necessary!
7. Cool and store.
8. Steam for a further 2½ hours before serving.
Serve with white sauce flavoure
d with brandy essence.
Spam Fritters
SERVES 4
50g (2oz) national flour
a pinch of salt
1 egg yolk, or equivalent reconstituted egg
1.2 litres (2 pints) milk, or milk and water
a pinch of dried mixed herbs
1 teaspoon grated onion
1 teaspoon chopped parsley
175g (6oz) spam, thinly chopped
25g (1oz) cooking fat
1. Mix together the flour, salt, egg and liquid.
2. Beat until a smooth batter, then add the herbs, onion, parsley and spam.
3. Heat a frying pan, melt the fat, and drop in spoonfuls of the mixture.
4. Fry quickly on each side until crisp and brown, and serve immediately or else!
Yorkshire ‘Cheese’ Tarts
SERVES 12
Pastry
350g (12oz) national flour
175g (6oz) soft margarine
50g (2oz) caster sugar
Filling
75g (3oz) sugar
100g (4oz) margarine
2 tablespoons desiccated coconut
75g (3oz) currants
1 egg, beaten
Oven: 325°F (170°C) Gas Mark 3.
1. Work together the flour, fat and sugar for the pastry.
2. Add enough cold water to make a soft but not sticky dough.
3. Cover and chill in the fridge for 10 minutes.
4. Roll out and cut into suitable sized rounds. Line greased pastry tins with the pastry rounds, and chill again.
5. For the filling, beat together the sugar and fat, then add all the remaining filling ingredients. Mix to a paste.
6. Spoon into each pastry case, place in the middle of a moderate oven, and bake until golden, about 20 minutes.
Celebration Pudding
SERVES 6
8 tablespoons drinking chocolate powder
2 tablespoons coffee or cocoa powder
100g (4oz) grated breadcrumbs
100g (4oz) Demerara sugar (but any will do!)
Filling
450ml (¾ pint) double cream (mock cream substitute will do)
50g (2oz) grated chocolate or vermicelli
1. Mix the dry ingredients together in a bowl.
2. Beat the cream until fluffy.
3. Put a layer of dry mixture in the bottom of a glass bowl. Top with some cream, then alternate layers, light then dark. Finish with a chocolate layer.
4. Sprinkle over with the topping of your choice.
5. Chill, and let stand if you can!
Isobel’s Scone Recipe
8 PORTIONS
100g (4oz) self-raising flour
100g (4oz) wholemeal self-raising flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
50g (2oz) soft margarine
25g (1oz) caster sugar
1 egg
150ml (¼ pint milk)
Oven: 425°F (220°C) Gas Mark 7.
1. Sieve the flours and baking powder into a bowl, then rub in the fat until the mixture resembles breadcrumbs.
2. Mix in the sugar, then gradually add the egg, beaten with the milk, to make a good dough. Leave a little egg mixture over for the glaze.
3. Turn out onto a floured board and knead gently. Shape and roll into a square.
4. Dip a 2-inch cutter in some extra flour and cut out about eight thick scones.
5. Brush the tops with the last of the egg and milk mixture.
6. Place on a greased baking sheet and bake at the top of a hot oven. Inspect after 10 minutes. Place on a rack to cool before eating.
Turn the page to read The Recipe,
an exclusive short story by Leah Fleming
THE RECIPE
It was a truth universally acknowledged in the village that Epiphany Birkett, or Fanny, as she was known, was the undisputed Queen of Cakes, the Mary Berry of Wintergill. Her recipes appeared in the Dalesman, but it was her Christmas cake recipe, handed down for generations, that was a secret never to be told. No one knew what secret ingredients or exact proportions made her cakes better than all the rest.
There was always a rush to buy a ticket to guess the weight of the beautiful iced offering she gave to the Christmas Bazaar. In fact, for the Summer Show, they made her a judge so that all of the other contestants would have a chance of winning rosettes in the bake-off. All of this was told to me many times over coffee after our family arrived in the village. We had just finished renovating the old farmhouse at the end of a lane, and rumour was that we had won the lottery, judging by the size of our four-by-four that contained two kids and a large dog, and by the fact we’d come from ‘down south’.
Yet one by one, our neighbours kindly trooped to the door with gifts of eggs and offers of help with the garden. They all wanted a peep at what we’d done to Elsie Crummock’s old house, especially at the kitchen alterations which were still only half finished. ‘If you are going to compete in the culinary stakes, you better resign yourself to defeat. Oh, I tell a lie! Fanny will actually be the judge this year for the Christmas Cake bake-off,’ said Sally, my neighbour from next door.
I nodded, thinking that baking cakes wasn’t high on my list of priorities. In fact, I was dreading the coming festive season. ‘She’ll get nothing from me,’ I smiled. ‘I’m too busy with the house.’
‘But it’s for a good cause,’ Sally insisted. ‘It’s to support Crisis at Christmas and to make sure the homeless get a roof over their heads. Just because we live in the sticks doesn’t mean we don’t care.’
‘I know, I’m sorry, it’s just I’ve got a lot on.’ How could I explain to a stranger how low I was feeling, how tired I was? And that just keeping the family fed and watered while they settled into new schools and jobs was such an effort of will?
My husband, Guy, thought the move would ease the pain; a move away from familiar haunts and memories. And it was such a beautiful village, with plenty of space for Ellie and Patrick to play. It was perfect except for the one thing that was missing.
I felt my stomach tighten. It was flat: I had shrunk in the effort to join in and be friendly. And Sally was nosey in a nice way, her eyes darting round the smart worktops and surfaces with curiosity. ‘Old Elsie wouldn’t know her place, it’s so modern and warm with the Aga. I can remember these walls dripping with treacle nicotine. Her boys were great smokers. Still, I expect it’s strange coming from a city. Where did you say it were?’
I didn’t. I wish you’d go home, I thought, rising to clear the cups as a hint. ‘Goodness, is that the time?’
‘And here’s me blethering on. Can we count on you for a cake to be auctioned off?’ Sally was not going to let me off the hook. I nodded wearily, despite the fact that I’d never baked a Christmas cake in my life. We bought one ready-iced from a good bakery. Why was it in the country you were expected to make your own? And for it to be judged and sold with fancy icing: oh, what the hell had I let myself in for? And who was this Fanny? Somebody from the big house, lady of the manor? That’s all I needed. Well, she’ll get short shrift if she ever comes to call, I sighed to myself.
The whole idea slipped from my cluttered mind until the woman in the post office pointed to the bake-off poster next to a whole shelf of ingredients: soft brown sugar, mixed peel, glace cherries and cake frills. ‘I always do mine at half-term,’ she suggested, as I tried to ignore the shelf. ‘It gives it a chance to mature and I feed it brandy every week to keep it moist. Do you have a special recipe?’ I shook my head. ‘A book of first-class stamps, please.’ Here we go again, I thought. Have they nothing better to do than make cake?
‘Everyone would love to get their hands on Epiphany’s secret recipe that has passed from mother to daughter for a hundred years. There’s such richness to the texture and you can smell the alcohol before it’s even cut. Have you met her yet?’
‘Does she own this village, then?’ I asked, a bit sharply.
‘Oh, not at all, she just has the knack of getting everyone involv
ed. Enthusiastic is the word for Fanny! Good luck with your cake: the earlier it’s done, the better it tastes.’
I wondered how on earth was I supposed to fiddle with cakes when I had a half-term house full of noisy kids and cousins? The thought of Christmas to come was the last thing on my mind. If only I didn’t feel so exhausted. ‘I’m not sure this was a good move,’ I complained to Guy one night.
‘Give it time, Charley, grief has its own rhythm.’
‘But it should have been such a wonderful Christmas. We were so looking forward to . . .’ The tears started again, as they had done for months now.
‘The doctors said to expect this,’ Guy reminded me. ‘Your hormones are all over the show. Don’t worry, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.’
‘But we chose a village to be part of its life. I don’t want to seem standoffish but I don’t want to bake some sodden apology for a cake. We’ll give a donation instead.’ But I knew this was giving up again, taking the easy option. I could hear my mother’s challenge in my ears: ‘If you don’t try, you’ll never know’.
So, the following week, I roamed the local supermarket shelves with a list from a Googled recipe, looking for eggs (free range, of course), and flour – but which one? Oh hell! I found myself muttering out loud next to a woman, who turned and smiled.
‘Is it for a Christmas cake?’
‘Not any old cake but one for the bake-off at Wintergill. I haven’t a clue what I am doing. This recipe is off the Internet but I’ve got an Aga . . .’
The woman was wearing a jazzy puffa jacket and had silvery blue hair. ‘Let me look? Hmm, it’s a bit Spartan. This your first attempt?’
I laughed. ‘Can’t you tell? Still, it’s all for a good cause, so I’m giving it a go. I wish it was brownies. I can churn them out by the dozen.’
‘Are you new to the area?’
‘Yes, moved into Wintergill a few months ago. Are you local?’ I asked.
‘Oh yes, born and bred. It’s a lovely village and young people with families coming in are always a bonus. Holiday homes can kill the life out some places, but not Wintergill.’