So, just over a week later I found myself in the kitchen of said textee, armed with a lot of meat and various other bits and pieces as we began to tackle our first beef wellington.

We used this recipe for the beef wellington and this recipe for the rough puff pastry (though I would chop in the butter, not rub it in)

Here is the delicious result:

Great British Bake Off inspired Beef Wellington

A wonderful blend of cheeses and I always love caramelised onions!

I did an egg wash on the pastry which gave it an inviting golden colour.

Welcome to summer in Atlanta.  I’m looking forward to the surplus of delicious fruits and vegetables.  I’ve planted herbs and tomatoes.  I’m done with finals.  I’ve switched to lighter beers.  And I’ve been harvesting mulberries.  Ergo, mullberry pie!!

It’s been fun picking berries in metro Atlanta. Every few minutes, someone will stop and ask me what I am doing; whether those are blackberries; are mulberries really edible, can they taste some; what do I do with them; etc… (?- I don’t know how to correctly punctuate this sentence)  I feel like an unofficial and unqualified advocate for urban food gathering.  I also feel personally responsible that mulberries aren’t the most delicious berry in the world.

Mulberries are kind of like a subtler blueberry with the texture of a blackberry.  Not very tart, and as far as berries go they’re fairly unremarkable.  However, they’re available in abundance. They’re free.  They look beautiful.  And I’ve been having a blast tossing them in savory dishes where they don’t quite belong (baked asparagus and crisped tofu with a chile-mulberry sauce was quite phenomenal).  This time, however, I put them where they seemed most at home– in a pie crust.

I’ve been toying with the idea of learning to make croissants lately, and decided to do a very `rough puff’ trial here.  I made it as easy as I possibly could, just to see whether there was any promise for future pies and for more extravagant pastries.  The results look promising, and I’m pumped for further trials.

For this pie crust, I used milk as my liquid since I still haven’t replaced the pie crust vodka that mysteriously disappeared from our communal cabinet. Poor soul– that was really lousy vodka.  It worked fine, although the milk gave a kind of odd flavor to the dough.  Probably the combination of vinegar and milk.  I’d suggest chilled water and vodka if you have it. Or just chilled water.

• 5oz flour
• 3.5oz cubed butter & shortening (in any combination will work.  I’m a butter fan m’self)
• 1tsp sugar
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1/2 tsp baking powder
• 1/4 cup of your favored liquid (or enough to make the dough workably moist)
• 1 Tbsp vinegar

Chill the dough for 30+ minutes in the refrigerator.  Remove.  This is where things get fun. Roll out one half in one direction 3 times (or until approximately 3x as long as it is wide.  Slather on a very thin layer of fat.  In this attempt, I simply used a cooking oil spray.  It worked, but I’ll probably get more legit and do a very thin layer of softened butter next time.  Sprinkle with cinnamon sugar.

Folding the pastry in 1/3s after sugaring. This is about as easy as I can imagine a pastry recipe can be. It did, however, almost make me feel fancy.

Fold in 1/3s, so the dough is approximately square.  Rotate 90 degrees, then repeat the rolling out/oil-sugar/folding. Rotate 90 degrees again and repeat once more.  Place in the fridge to chill while you make the filling.

A quick arithmetic note: each iteration triples the number of layers.  That means if you “roll,  oil, fold” k times, you’ll have created 3^k layers.  Here we’ve created 27 layers. Care to count?:

Layers. Like an ogre.

Divide the dough in 1/2 for a 2 crust pie.  Roll out when needed.

The filling is pretty simple.

• 2 cups of mullberries (freshly picked, washed, and with the stems pinched out)
• 2 Tbsp of tapioca starch
• 1 Tbsp lemon juice
• 1/3 cup sugar
• a pinch of salt
• 1 apple, sliced
• 1 Tbsp butter, chopped.

Almost too pretty to bake.

Meanwhile, sprinkle seasoning on the remaining dough scraps, place on a cookie sheet, and put them in the oven.

It’s like a pie cracker. Yum.

They’ll be done in about 10 minutes (take them out when the edges are golden).  I usually use cinnamon sugar, but used sea salt and pepper today for a savory treat.  This will tide you over as delicious aromas waft out of the oven.

Pie, reporting for duty.

Enjoy!!!

You can’t quite see in the above shot– but the crust did indeed get some nice layering due to the puff process. This shot kind of shows it:

Good till the last bite. Here you can see some of those 27 layers.

It was pretty tasty.  Not too sweet, good texture, and I had fun making a pie from hand scavenged berries.  I don’t recommend going out and buying mulberries explicitly for this.  Blackberries are way more delicious.  But if, like me, you find yourself with mulberries wasting away along the sidewalks around you– put them to good use!!!  Additionally, you’ll see more rough-puff pastry crusts in future pies.

Peace out, and eat more pie!

A note: lately I’ve been hearing from people who actually use my recipes (at least as inspiration).  The idea of someone miles away recreating a taste I’ve constructed is mind-boggling.  I’m always happy to hear your feedback! And let me know if there’s anything I can do to make these recipes simpler to follow.

A second note: if you have an idea for a pie that you think would work (or maybe that you think wouldn’t work, but would be ridiculous) feel free to leave a comment or send the idea my way through some alternative means.

When I was at school we were taught Home economics which included all the basic skills to run a home.  Some of the lessons proved not very useful but others did such as rough puff pastry.  It’s a recipe that can be used in so many ways.  Savoury or sweet and is much easier and much much nicer than anything bought.

Sausage rolls made with rough puff pastry was one of the delights that returned home with me from school after a hard afternoon at the home economics hot house that was known as Santa Maria.  Home economics took up a whole afternoon and we had a choice each term of sewing or cooking.  We all looked forward to those afternoons because they were easy and laid back.

Santa Maria was a detached slightly shabby Victorian house that sat alone in woodland.  We would have to cut across a couple of playing fields to get to it and of course none of us rushed.  So, straight after the lunch register we were free to make our way over to Santa Maria on our own.  We would break up into small groups of girls and take our time finding fresh interest in the surrounding flora and fauna.  A couple of the more flighty ones would disappear off for a smoke.   There was no register taking at Santa Maria so not everyone felt obliged to turn up.

The house itself was lovely;  there was a large light hallway with a large wooden staircase, which no one seemed to go up, what went on upstairs was a mystery to us girls.  The main bay fronted room to the front was the sewing room and the cooking went on in the kitchen and pantry area.  We were split into twos and worked at little tables.  The recipe and instructions were read out to us and we would have to write this down in a notebook in pencil and then work from this.  I wish I had kept my little instruction books as everything was so precise and had a reason.  We also used to doodle hearts with our names plus the boy of the moment on the inside of the covers maybe imagining how blissful married life would be cooking and cleaning for the chosen one!!

Rough Puff Pastry

8oz / 225g plain flour

Pinch of salt

5oz / 140g unsalted butter cut into little squares

Very cold to icy water

Sift the flour and the pinch of salt into a bowl.  Add the butter squares.  Without rubbing in the butter add the water – there is no real measure you will need to add the water a tablespoon at a time.  Start by adding 4 tablespoons and if the mixture doesn’t blind together add another – remember you can add water but you can’t take it away!

Use a knife to incorporate the water and then use your hands, knead very lightly you just want to bring the ingredients together to form one ball.

Wrap the pastry and let it relax in a fridge for 10 minutes or longer.

After ten minutes take the pastry out and on a floured board and a floured rolling pin roll the pastry into a strip 12” x 4” or 30 x 10 cm.  Take this stage slowly and remember to roll away from you.  Don’t roll back and forth just press down firmly with the rolling pin and push away trying not to over stretch or break the pastry.

Now turn the pastry so it is in a long strip in front of you, fold the left side over and then the right side over this so it’s like a book.  Keeping the pastry with the fold to your left roll out again to 1/2”/1 cm thick.  Now fold this again in three and put wrapped in a freezer bag in the fridge to rest for 15 minutes or more.

Repeat the same process again by rolling into a strip and folding over twice.  Place back into freezer bag and into the fridge to rest for 15 minutes or more.

Roll and fold again one more time.  The pastry should be flexible and there should be no big streaks of butter showing.

Roll into shape and rest once more before cooking.

I prefer to cut my pastry into a pie shape or if I wanted to be posh a chapeau and cook it on a baking tray adding it on top of my pie filling when cooked.

If you use an egg wash on the top don’t brush it all the way across to the edge as this will seal the edge and stop the pastry from rising.

The leftovers of a bowl full of hot sausage rolls

I have been psyching myself up for a while to make croissants. As you can see, these are not croissants.

I decided to start my venture into “awkward pastry” (technical term) by using the sausage meat I got in the post-christmas price slash at Tesco to make rough-puff pastry sausage rolls. With the combined help of Michel Roux for the ingredients and BBC Food and some other sites I can’t remember for method, I am rather surprised but delighted to say that I have successfully taken the first step towards my croissant dreams.

They were really pretty yummy, though I can’t pretend to aspire to the heady heights of  The Guardian’s Perfect Sausage Roll

Rough Puff Pastry

I have used 3/4 amounts due to lack of enough butter. It was about right for the amount of sausage filling.

375g plain flour (500g)
375g very cold butter (500g)
1 tsp salt
188ml ice cold water (250 ml)
Cut the butter into small chunks (2cm cubes roughly) 

Put the flour and salt in a bowl, add the flour. Mix it around a little so the butter is coated in flour

Use and round ended knife to chop through the flour, cutting the butter up a bit as you go. Don’t make the pieces too small, but just  about half the original size.

Pour in the cold water and using your hands (yep get sticky!) gently bring the flour and butter together into a lump, turning the bowl as you go. You can just push it together until it’ll just hold in one piece.

Flour the work surface and put the dough on it. Shape it into a roughly house-brick shape and size.

Chill for a bit if you have time. (The pastry, not you. Well, maybe you too)

Flour your rolling-pin and rolling in only one direction, roll it out to me about rectangle (35x20ish)

Fold the top third of the pastry into the centre and then the bottom third over the top of it as if folding a letter to fit into a long thin envelope. (like in this photo – though it won’t look that smooth )

Rotate a quarter turn and repeat the rolling and folding.

Chill

Repeat the rolling, folding and chilling two more times if you can. Though comments vary on how many times you need to do it or whether you need to chill it in between.

Now you are ready to use your pastry. It should look a bit marbled with the butter.

When you do use the pastry only roll in one direction.

For the sausage rolls  

(Made up by me)

1 x pack of sausage meat (defrosted if frozen)
a good sprinkling of sage (fresh if possible,though mine wasn’t)
A few rashers of smoked bacon, chopped into very small pieces
About 5 shallots (or an onion)
Some milk or a beaten egg to join and glaze the pastry

Preheat oven to 220c

In  a frying pan slowly brown the shallots in a little olive oil until soft and just starting to brown

In a bowl put the sausage meat, bacon, chopped sage, onions and some seasoning.

Mix together well.

Roll your pastry out into a rectangle about 1/2 cm thick and put a line of sausage meat down it, slightly off-centre.

Fold one side of the pastry over the top of the meat to join the other side (I’m sure I don’t need to explain this) and brush a little milk or beaten egg down the place where it will join.

Seal it together my pressing down the edge with a fork (it looks nice too)

Cut the long sausage roll into the size you want and then put a few small diagonal slashes across the top with a sharp knife

Brush the tops with milk or beaten egg

Bake in the oven on a greased baking tray for 25mins 

Now tuck in!

This is my slightly cheeky entry into January’s Tea Time Treats challenge, which is ‘sweet pastries and breads’. I did wrap some of the  leftover pastry around chocolate chunks to make fake Pain au Chocolat, but I have been given special dispensation by the incredibly lovely, generous and talented Karen and Kate (is that enough?) to enter these savoury beauties because I made the pastry myself.

]]> http://girlinthepaddock.wordpress.com/2011/11/05/cornish-icon/ Sat, 05 Nov 2011 16:06:18 +0000 girlinthepaddock http://girlinthepaddock.wordpress.com/2011/11/05/cornish-icon/ I live in Cornwall. I blog about food. An entry about the pasty might seem as boringly predictable as can be, and I never felt the urge of writing an entry strongly enough even to be aware of its danger… it just happened!

But truth be told, I’ve ended up having a ton of fun getting to grips with these chubby little beauts.

I’m not claiming any new or game-changing insight into the longstanding tradition of pasty-making, if only for the reason that the recipes for the traditional Cornish pasty are more or less one and the same- a cheap cut of beef (usually chuck), onions, potato, swede, salt and a heavy-handed grind on the pepper mill, all encased in a lard or beef dripping-rich flaky or shortcrust pastry. The differences between one recipe and another will lie in the preparation of the vegetables and meat- diced, sliced, great chunks or teeny tiny cubes, and the chef’s pastry preference. Even the addition of herbs (usually thyme) is rare and bizarrely for me (given the massive love I have for the herbs), an unwelcome one.

Out of curiosity, I’ve road-tested nearly every version of a pasty I’ve come across (by pasty I’m referring to the traditional ‘Cornish’ variety, only in Cornwall they are only ever known simply as ‘pasties’ and by a different name if the filling is anything other than beef and holy trinity of vegetables) and it would’ve all been a useless endeavour if I didn’t share my conception of pasty nirvana…

For the first few batches of pasties, I followed the most traditional method (preferred for its time and utensil efficiency) of using all raw ingredients and letting a good slow cooking session in the oven do its job to develop the flavour. When I bite into a pasty, I want to be knocked over the head with its savoury, succulent beefiness and I was bitterly disappointed with the preliminary results. I was even following a recipe from one of Cornwall’s most celebrated pasty shops! I assumed, under their instruction, the flavour would be unparalleled. When it turned out not to be, I gave the ingredients and method some thought… I would never even fleetingly consider the idea of eating braised beef, potato and swede without any kind of sauce, only salt and pepper- why, oh why, would I want this inside a pasty? Besides, I feel very uncomfortable not being able to check the seasoning before cooking and whose stomach’s strong enough to sample these particular ingredients in their uncooked state?

My next riddle was, of course, the pastry. I started with a shortcrust, progressed to flaky, experimented with lard:butter ratios and rubbished all the variations. I looked to my favourite shop-bought pasty for inspiration and with the pastry’s chewiness, crisp exterior and rich butteriness; I concluded that heading into puff territory had to be the right move. I knocked up some rough puff- it was, indeed, The One…and it was magical.

Now, I honestly wouldn’t dream of testing your last nerves by insisting on making your own rough puff ab initio (although it’s really not such a big deal once you’ve got a hang of the steps); but this type of cooking is about enjoying the process. I love the process so I do it happily. If you don’t, don’t bother. Luckily, all these recipes adapt themselves most happily to the twenty-first century, ready-made puff route. Be my guest!

ROUGH PUFF

• 250g organic strong white flour
• 1 tsp salt
• 250g butter, at room temperature but not softened, cut into baby cubes
• Scant tsp white wine vinegar or lemon juice
• Up to 150ml cold water

Chill the flour in the freezer for around half an hour.

Sieve the flour and salt into a roomy bowl and chuck the butter in. Either rub it in with the pads of your fingers (but leave pea size lumps), or ‘cut’ it in with a round-ended dinner knife. Make a well and add the vinegar or lemon juice- ‘cut’ it in.

Slowly add the water (you certainly may not need all of it), until it comes together in a ball and is neither dry nor sticky. Wrap in cling and refrigerate about 20-30 minutes.

Flour a clean work surface and put the unwrapped dough onto it. Roll it out to a 20cmx50cm (8”x20”) rectangle. (I think of it as roughly one hand span wide and two and a half hand spans long). Fold the bottom end 2/3 of the way up, and then fold the top end over that to form a neat, 3-layered square parcel. Wrap in cling and chill for 20 minutes.

Repeat the rolling and folding twice more*, chilling for 20 minutes between sessions. Chill it for a final 20 minutes and it’s good to go, ready to be used. * When you roll out the folded pastry parcel, make sure the exposed fold/flap is running vertically on the right hand side, otherwise you won’t create the right layering effect.

THE TRADITIONAL PASTY

This will make 4 gutsy, flavourful, awesome pasties to be enjoyed at the beach, on a picnic, in front of the TV… probably not in a colliery.

• 125g swede, cut into 1cm cubes
• 1 medium potato, peeled and cut into 1cm cubes
• Rapeseed oil
• 1 large, or 2 small onions, chopped finely
• 325g free range steak (rump, rib-eye, chuck), trimmed of any sinew and cut into 1cm cubes
• 2/3 cup (about 170ml) beef stock
• 1 tsp Taste No.5 Umami Paste
• 2 tsp Worcestershire sauce
• Pepper
• 1 quantity Rough Puff
• 1 free range egg, beaten

Sweat the onion in a glug of rapeseed oil for a few minutes and then set aside in a mixing bowl.

Get the root vegetables cooking in a large enough pan of boiling water until tender.  They cook at slightly different rates but if you time it well, you can get away with it. Once they’re done, drain them and add to the mixing bowl with the onions.

Heat some more oil, season the beef cubes and fry on a high heat for a few minutes until brown and the fat begins to render and caramelise. Add to the mixing bowl.

Make a reduction by boiling the stock, Worcestershire sauce and umami paste in the saucepan until a few tablespoons of liquid remain. Pour this over the beef and vegetables in the mixing bowl and toss everything together with a grinding of pepper.

Roll out the dough, on a floured work surface, to a thickness of about 3-5mm. Use a 7” side plate to fashion yourself four circles. (If you want to re-roll rough puff trimmings, don’t scrunch them up in a ball: stack them and then roll them out to maintain the layers you’ve worked so hard to make).  Spoon a quarter of the filling on each circle. Wet the edge of the pastry circles, press the two halves together and crimp the edges. Place on a parchment-lined baking sheet. Prick the tops with the tines of a fork or make an incision with a knife. Let the assembled pasties chill in the fridge for half an hour.

Preheat your oven to 400F/200°C/Gas 6. Paint the naked pastry with the beaten egg. The pasties will need 30 minutes at this heat, then turn it down to 360F/180°C/Gas 4 for 20 minutes more.  Let them rest for 10-15 minutes on a cooling rack before serving.

Fish and seafood pasties are extraordinarily scarce- probably due to shelf-life or supply issues. But I think rich puff pastry is a wonderful casing for the fruits of a fisherman’s nine-to-five, and it would be a shame not to showcase the best off-shore Cornish produce inside its iconic pasty if it can be easily put together at home.

SALSA VERDE SALMON

This recipe is a hybrid of two of my favourite ways, among many, of eating fish. The first being fish with salsa verde- I could eat it all day, I think. The second comes courtesy of Tamasin Day-Lewis whose culinary style I pay great attention to and whose ethos I share whole-heartedly. It’s more of a flavour combination than a dish- smoked salmon with proper, organic cream cheese, freshly sliced tomato and red onions. It’s my habitual weekend brunch of choice on a piece of toasted sourdough, although I opt for flaked hot smoked salmon, which I infinitely prefer.  

I completely expect you to tamper with the given recipe, substituting your favourite herbs in whatever ratio you like, for instance. Although I wouldn’t fiddle massively with the quantities of the salmon and rice as you might end up with either too much or too little filling. The recipe makes four pasties.

• 1x150g (approx)  raw lightly smoked salmon fillet
• 75g white or brown basmati rice
• ½ red onion, finely chopped or 4 spring onions (including the greenery), sliced
• 10g knob of butter
• 6 cherry tomatoes, diced

For the Salsa Verde

• Zest of ½ lemon
• 1 tbsp red or white wine vinegar, or lemon juice
• 1 tbsp non pareilles capers
• 1 cornichon, finely chopped
• ½ tsp anchovy paste
• 2/3 cup chopped herbs-e.g.  parsley, coriander, basil, mint

• 1 quantity Rough Puff
• 1 free range egg, beaten

Grill the salmon for about 10-12 minutes until just cooked (of course it will cook further in the oven). Cool and flake it into a mixing bowl to produce about 120g.

Cook the rice according to packet instruction in boiling, salted water. Drain in a sieve and run under cold water to cool it down completely. Add it to the mixing bowl with the salmon.

Soften the onion in the butter until tender. Add, with the tomatoes, to the salmon and rice.

In a small bowl, stir together the salsa verde ingredients. Toss it through the salmon and rice mix. Season everything with some pepper to taste and a pinch of salt if it needs it.

Preheat your oven to 400F/200°C/Gas 6.

Roll the pastry out on a clean work surface, dusted with flour. Cut out into 6” circles using a side plate as a guideline. Dollop a quarter of the mixture onto each one, wet the outer edges of the pastry circle, fold it over the filling, press down and crimp. Prod the top with a fork or pierce it with a knife. Brush over the egg wash and bake for 25-30 minutes.

VENISON AND BLACKBERRY

My next idea is simply an adaptation of my favourite pie filling. Putting it in a vessel which allows me to take it with me to enjoy on-the-go seemed like good sense to me.

• 250g venison steak
• 100g celeriac, diced into 1cm cubes
• 1 small potato, diced into 1cm cubes
• 1 onion, finely chopped
• A large handful of blackberries, halved if large
• 1 tbsp rapeseed oil
• 150ml beef stock
• 1 tbsp balsamic vinegar
• ½ tsp juniper berries
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 spoonful rosemary or redcurrant jelly
• Salt and pepper
• 1 quantity Rough Puff
• 1 egg, beaten

Heat half the oil in a saucepan and fry the onions with a pinch of salt until soft and golden. Transfer to a large mixing bowl.

Season the venison. Heat the remaining oil and fry the meat for a few minutes over a high heat until browned and slightly caramelised. Tip into the bowl with the onions.

Boil the celeriac and potato in salted water until tender. When cooked, drain and put into the mixing bowl.

Meanwhile bring the stock, vinegar, juniper and bay to the boil and reduce until a few tablespoons remain. Pour into the mixing bowl, along with the blackberries, and mix everything together with a good grind of black pepper.

Roll the pastry out until 3mm thick. Using a 7” side plate as a guide, cut out about 3 or 4 circles. Divide the mixture between however many circles you choose to make, wet the rim of the pastry, fold over and crimp the edges together. Make a few slashes in the top, transfer to a parchment-lined baking sheet and chill for half an hour.

Preheat your oven to 200°C/400F/Gas Mark 6.

Brush with the beaten egg and bake the pasties for 30-40 minutes until golden brown.

 A trivial appendix…

It’s widely known that pasties, with their thick handle of a crust, were eaten by the Cornish miners to prevent the lethally toxic residue on their hands spoiling their lunches (or their lives). However there is slender evidence to support the belief that the pasty was divided into sweet and savoury compartments. Constructing an interior bridge is impossibly fiddly; finding fruit that cooks at the same time as the meat is virtually impossible; and the meat and fruit juices always run into each other when baked. The normal practice was to turn remaining dough into smaller fruit turnovers or to make splits which are eaten with jam and clotted cream like scones. Myth busted. My job is now done.