Saturday Snapshots | #2

Today was a picnic kinda day... and what a picnic we had. As I had the day off work today, Toby and I decided to pack a picnic (French bread, chorizo and cherry tomatoes, to be precise) and drive up to Westbury White Horse, near to where I live. I admit, it was a little blustery and we had to dodge the piles of sheep poo in order to lay the picnic blanket down, but it was nice. Sometimes I find an hour or too away from civilisation, and the screens we are slaves to, makes the day a little bit nicer.

I had some water drinking issues...

After our lunch, we decided to go on a walk across the hills. Bar a few sheep,  it was pretty bereft of people around the far side of the Horse and the view was quite beautiful. I often forget how lovely Wiltshire really is, and the sea of bronze and green fields, lightly dappled with cottages and combine harvesters made quite the sight. 

Naturally, we had to end the day with an ice cream (thanks, Margret Thatcher!). And just as it started to rain, we decided to make like the old people by sitting and eating them in my car! Although we lacked curling cheese and pickle sandwiches and a flask of tea, I think the effect was still there...

How did you spend your Saturday? Was it as elderly as mine? 

Apricot Jam

I am going to become the youngest member of the W.I. And no, I feel absolutely no shame about this. From learning to cook at both my Grandmother's and Mother's knee, watching them both make jam always held a certain allure. Seeing that bubbling, oozing, fruity and sugary mixture on top of the hob, before being funnelled into shiny, hexagonal jars, always filled me with wonder. From a young age I have been of the belief that only really good cooks can make jam. Only cooks with real patience, concentration and Mary Berry levels of skill can make this properly setting and wobbly condiment. I can now safely say that this is bollocks. Because if I can make jam, anyone can. (Sorry, Grandma).

Ingredients (makes about 9 jars) 

2 kg of fresh apricots, quartered and stoned. (Don't under-estimate how many apricots make up 2 kilos... because it is a lot. I mean a bag-splitting embarrassing-self-in-geen-grocers quantity!)

Juice of 2 small lemons

500ml of water

2 kg of caster sugar

First things first, here's how to sterilise your jars, because you don't want no mould setting up camp in your lovingly made jam, no sir. Wash your jam jars in really hot soapy water, rinse and then pop in a pre-heated oven at 130C for at least 20 mins. You need your jars to be hot when your pour the jam in, so it's best to just turn the oven off and leave them in there if you are still making your jam.

Whilst your jars are sterilising, pop your apricots, lemon juice and water in a large saucepan on the hob and bring slowly to the boil, stirring occasionally. Once boiled, reduce the heat and simmer gently for 15 mins, or until the fruit is really soft and pulpy. Oh, at this point you should also pop 2 or 3 saucers in the freezer, ready to test if your jam is set later on.

Remove from the heat, stir in the sugar until disolved (I know it looks like a lot, but I promise you won't put people into a diabetic coma). Place back on the heat and boil rapidly for 15 minutes.

GRANDMA TIP - Clip a clothes peg onto your wooden spoon so it doesn't fall into the boiling vat of jam. Therefore avoiding a jam-on-hand 3rd degree burn situation. 

Next you need to test your jam for setting. Take the jam off the heat and dollop a spoonful onto a pre-chilled saucer. Chill for a further 3 minutes and run your finger through the mixture, if it clearly wrinkles, then it's set. If not, boil rapidly for another 5 minutes, then test again. 

Once your jam has reached it's setting point, remove your warm jars from the oven and funnel in the jam mixture. Seal immediately with either a wax disk and a plastic cover, or a tightly fitting lid. And thats it, jam done! (Gingham fabric tops are optional... but I think it really gives that over-priced farmers market/ Women's Institute feel). 

Banana and Nutella Loaf

 

List of good things: 

Bananas (check)

Nutella (check)

Cake (check)

Baking to make other people happy (check)

Hello little'uns! I hope you have been enjoying the sunshine. Today I spent my day off from work reading in the garden, making copious amounts of apricot jam and, of course, baking this lovely loaf cake. Banana bread is good on it's own, but then with added Nutella... holy moley, it's a whole other yummy French layer of nutty-chocolatey-gooey goodness. This loaf is delicious on it's own, or with a scraping of butter. *Brushes cake crumbs off laptop* it won't last long in this house...

Ingredients:

5 small/ 4 medium mashed, ripe bananas

128g of light muscovado sugar 

100g of unsalted, melted butter

60ml of milk

2 large eggs
2 cap-fulls of vanilla extract
360g of plain flour
2 tsp's of baking powder
1 tsp of salt
60g (or two generous dollops) of Nutella

Pre-heat your oven to 180C and roughly peel, chop and mash the bananas (leaving a few lumps) and set aside. In the mean time, combine sugar, melted butter, milk, eggs and vanilla extract in a large bowl with an electric whisk, or in a free standing mixer (this was a perfect opportunity to get out my beloved aubergine-coloured KitchenAid, Florence). Sift in the flour, baking powder, salt and mashed bananas, and whisk briskly to combine.

You need your Nutella to have a slightly runny consistency, as it's a little too thick straight from the jar, so I just popped two generous dollops in a microwaveable saucepan and heated on high for 20 seconds. Once suitably runny, drizzle 2/3's of the Nutella over your cake mixture, and fold gently through using a rubber spatula. You still want the ripples of chocolate to be visible when you cut through the cake- so don't go too wild with your stirring. Transfer into two lined and greased loaf tins, and drizzle the remaining Nutella over the top, swirling gently with a knife.

Bake in a pre-heated oven for 30-40 minutes, or until a skewer comes out clean when inserted into the middle of the cake. Devour the first one, still warm from the oven, with a large cup of coffee and lovely company. The second loaf can be devoured when the time suits, or given away as a gift... but only if you really really like the person, because this ain't a cake for wasting.

Four things to {Cook} this month | #1

               

           

1. Breakfast | I am attempting to expand my pancake repertoire. After discovering last month that I can make the best American Pancakes, my boyfriend and I are in constant competition as to who can make the fluffiest pancakes with the most interesting and delicious flavour combinations. These Dutch Blueberry pancakes look like a winner to me, and they look so beautiful in their individual cast-iron pans. 

2. Lunch | As has been mentioned in previous posts, I have a serious case of Scandimania. Hence why I can't wait to make my own versions of Smorrebrod: dark rye bread, topped with a selection of delicious toppings. I personally want to try cream cheese, hot smoked salmon and Danish pickled cucumber. I can't wait to try these properly when I spend my Christmas in Copenhagen and Oslo this year! 

3. Dinner | I love risotto, but I find the gluten in the rice often leaves me feeling stodgy and needing to nap in front of trashy TV for at least 3 hours! This version made with quinoa and loads of fresh mushrooms looks so much lighter but equally filling. I can't wait to try this for dinner when I go back to Uni in September. 

4. Bake | It's no secret that I love baking. But as my skills develop, I'm looking to experiment a little more with new flavour combinations, and stray from the confines of traditional recipes. This classic lemon cake is sexed up with sprigs of fresh rosemary and a tangy, yoghurt icing- the sort of thing I would love to make in my own kitchen!