I scored these two very shiny and pretty cookbooks for a fiver at Oxfam Dalston:

Heston’s Fantastical Feasts by Heston Blumenthal, and Creole by Babette de Rozières. I bought the Blumenthal book mostly because it has instructions on how to make lickable wallpaper, a la Willy Wonka. But I am more excited about the Creole book, described as a “colourful and sumptuous celebration of West Indian Creole cooking”.

Just a bit of a preview before adding the to the towering pile of books next to my bed – aren’t the pictures luscious? Can’t wait to make some of the sweet dishes from the Creole book, like coconut flans with caramel, and try some traditional Guadeloupean ti’punch – a white rum and lime mix.

This Christmas I was feeling rather lonely and discombobulated, without my favourite people. It’s all a bit strange to me, you see, the cold weather, the piping hot fruit mince pies, the grey skies and the duck boots. Plus Thom and I moved into a big empty flat on December 21st, and I was busy finishing up at work. So no tinsel or trees for us. I was almost sniffling when I thought about what I’d be missing out on. Summer. Crickets and cicadas. A cool strawberry daiquiri or five. Sandy beach towels. Endless sunshine. Fudge.

You see, every year in late December, I team up with my siblings or my mum to spend a day making fudge. It’s one of my family’s holiday traditions to make mountains of sugary treats, and distribute them to call our friends and whanau. Sometimes there’s pink and white coconut ice, and sometimes there’s chocolate slices, but there is always Russian Fudge, delicious and golden.

But here I was, stuck on the other-side of the planet. What I wouldn’t I have given to sit in the kitchen at Omaha, listening to it on repeat and argue with my sister?  I would have happily listened to the awful Christmas CD my mum has been thrashing since 1992. Usually the cloying renditions of Feliz Navidad! et al makes my right eye twitch, but even the thought of it was making me dreadfully homesick.

On Christmas Eve Eve, on a last-minute trip to a department store to pick up more presents, we stopped by the kitchen-department. After extensive consultation and comparison, Thom decided to buy me a hand mixer. And after he left for work that night, I found myself on a mission.

Despite never making it alone, nor having my family was not here to gorge on the results, I decided to give myself a pep talk and make some Russian Fudge. For tradition’s sake. In our tiny local Tesco, I spent half an hour scanning the aisles for Golden Syrup and wondering if England even had it. Eventually I found it, and rushed home, gleefully. Soon enough, I had toffee boiling on stove and was sneaking a spoonful of sickly condensed milk. Then I started beating the fudge into reluctant submission, and the smell of a straining motor filled the kitchen… and  it finally felt like Christmas!

Russian Fudge

{from the Edmonds Cookery Book}

3 1/2 cups sugar
125g butter
3 Tbsp Golden Syrup
1/2 cup milk
1/2 tsp salt
200g sweetened condensed milk (half a standard tin)
2 tsp vanilla essence 

Put all ingredients, apart from vanilla essence, in a pot and bring to the boil stirring all the time. Boil for roughly 20 minutes, still stirring all the time. In a bowl of cold water drop a little of the fudge mixture (test throughout the 20 mins of boiling), when it is at the soft ball stage (your drop forms a small ball on contact with water) remove from heat. Add vanilla essence and beat with an electric beater for about 10 minutes until you can see it starting to set. Pour into greased tin and place in fridge to cool and set.

—

It’s funny how scent triggers the heart of our memory system. I found the “Christmas Spirit”, courtesy of burning sugar and electrics. I also realised that while I may not have all my loved ones around me, I certainly am not alone (buying your girlfriend a beater = A+++), and that while I may not have sun, sand and warm temperatures, I can still bring a bit of my tradition to the Northern Hemisphere.

I hope you had a lovely holiday, and will enjoy a fantastic New Year, wherever you are.

turophile, n.

1. a connoisseur of cheese, a cheese fancier

I just learned a new word, and I’m sure it’s one that will come in handy this Christmas.
“Oi, turophile! Get your hands off my brie!”

Don’t these beautiful pictures by Sam Stowell make you hungry? They were shot for Falcon Enamelware, to showcase their distinctive ice-white and blue rimmed tableware. Falcon have recently upped their game by offering their enamel in a new range of bold colours, including a pillarbox red. In particular their tumblers are brilliant – I’d like a set of eight, two of each colour (especially pigeon).

I like enamel because it lasts forever. It doesn’t break when you drop it, and neither will it burn when you accidentally leave a pie in the oven too long… I think my mother still uses enamel kitchenware that came from her grandmother’s kitchen. So it’s no surprise then that Falcon Enamelware is a bit of a British cooking classic.

Thank you for your birthday wishes earlier. Hello 26!  I woke up last Tuesday and gasped dramatically “My youth!” and Thom filled in the obvious gap, adding “…is fleeting!” He’s clearly a keeper. I had a little celebration with my new London friends – nothing too crazy, but it did involve over a kilogram of cheese, so you could describe it as fancy.

Here is a photo of the cheese before it got turned into a big bubbling pot of fondue. It was the size of a baby! I picked it up at Borough Market (yes, I have been back already) and it’s a nice local Sussex Farmhouse cheese. Inspired by Les Refuge des Fondues in Paris, here is the recipe:

Cheesy-No-Fail-Awesome-Times Fondue

Adjust quantities to suit your audience

1 clove of garlic, halved & peeled
Juice of 1 lemon
3 parts melty cheese
1 part other cheese
1 cup of white wine – I used  el cheapo Sainsbury’s Sauvignon Blanc
1 loaf of bread 

For the fondue:

Take garlic and rub it around the inside of your fondue pot. Grate or roughly chop all of your cheeses into small pieces. Add the wine and lemon juice to the pot, and bring to a gentle simmer. Bit by bit, slowly stir the cheese into the wine, stirring constantly. If your cheese is particularly runny, add a pinch of cornflour. But don’t worry too much because it will thicken with time (as the fondue cools).

It’s easier to do this bit in a saucepan on a stove if you just have a ceramic fondue pot. (I am assuming you have a fondue pot and warmer on hand.)

However, it works just as well if you have a cast iron pot (high roller!). Just make the fondue directly in the pot on the stove then eat fast.

For dippers:

Chop your bread into small cubes. Bread that is a few days old holds its shape better, but if yours is still fresh and springy to touch, put it in the oven for about 8 minutes to dry it out. Roasted vegetables also work a treat, as well as cocktail onions and pickles (how 70′s European). 101 Cookbooks has lots of other great suggestions!

Warning: excessive consumption may induce cheese dreams. Enjoy!

This year’s Halloween weekend went like this: I sloppily carved a moustache into my mini pumpkin, I ripped my tights in anticipation, I pondered skullifying my face with a black eyebrow pencil, and then I just stayed home and wrote until the small hours. Oops! I will have to protest to my friends that I was there at those parties, just as a spectre.

Good news however. The calendar has only just flipped to Monday the 31st of October and there’s still time for me yet to get into the spirit. I just found this recipe for those cute little chocolate bats to make later this evening. Happy Halloween!

Donna Hay’s Marshmallow Vampire Bats
{From the NZ Herald}

To make twenty of the sugar bloodsuckers:

20 white marshmallows
200g dark chocolate, melted
20 small chocolate-coated biscuits, halved
40 small white chocolate melts

Dip the marshmallows into the melted chocolate and place each on 2 halves of the chocolate biscuits to create the bat bodies. Place on a baking tray lined with non-stick baking paper. Place 2 white chocolate melts on each bat to make eyes. Refrigerate until set.

As far back as 1014, and probably much earlier, London Bridge attracted traders selling grain, fish, vegetables and livestock. In the 13th century traders were relocated to what is now Borough High Street and a market has existed there ever since.

The other day we went to Borough Market. Alongside cheese, breads, cakes and all those good things, it has the widest choice of fruit and vegetables that I have ever seen.

The atmosphere was incredible too; imagine crowds of happy people trading, supping on aromatic mulled wine, popping truffles in their mouths, pressing juices, ordering coffee, carrying armfuls of bread, commiserating on the weather… All the while trains rumbled across the viaducts overhead. I want to go back again and again.

Sunday nights are still the weekend, and my new Bethnal Green family certainly knows how to make the most of them. As per mini-tradition, we invited our all friends round, cooked dinner and settled in for a night of wine, X-Factor and Downton Abbey. It sounds nerdy, but when there are 10 of you in a living room hooting and hollering at the TV, it’s really raucous and fun.

I contributed to the evening by making cinnamon scrolls. They received rave reviews, if I say so myself – so here’s the recipe should you ever want to win friends and influence people. They take a bit of work to make, but boy is a plate full of homemade cinnamon scrolls delicious, and impressive!

Cinnamon Swirl Buns with Cream Cheese Glaze
{Lazily adapted from Molly Wizenberg’s recipe in Bon Appetit, March 2008}

Dough:
1 cup milk
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
3 1/2 cups plain flour
1/2 cup sugar
1 large egg
2 1/4 teaspoons rapid-rise yeast
1 teaspoon salt
Nonstick vegetable oil spray

Filling:
3/4 cup brown sugar
2 tablespoons ground cinnamon
1/4 cup butter

Glaze:
1/2 cup cream cheese
1 cup icing sugar
1/4 cup butter
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

Making the dough:

Combine milk and butter in glass measuring cup. Microwave on high until butter melts and mixture is just warmed. Pour into bowl, adding 1 cup flour, sugar, egg, yeast, and salt. The lucky among you may have a beater with a paddle attachment, otherwise it’s time to get out a wooden spoon and start stirring.

When the mixture starts resembling a shaggy mess, add 2 1/2 cups flour. Keep beating until flour is absorbed and dough is sticky, scraping down sides of bowl. If dough is very sticky, add more flour by tablespoonfuls until dough begins to form ball and pulls away from sides of bowl. Put dough on to a lightly floured work surface. Knead until smooth and elastic, adding more flour if sticky, about 8 minutes. Form into ball.

Lightly oil large bowl with nonstick spray. Transfer dough to bowl, turning to coat. Cover bowl with plastic wrap, then kitchen towel. Let dough rise in warm draft-free area until doubled in volume, about 2 hours. If you are in a hurry, like I was, put your dough to bed in the hot water cupboard, which speeds things up.

Shaping your scrolls:

Mix brown sugar and cinnamon in medium bowl. Punch down dough. Transfer to a floured work surface – I used the kitchen table. Roll out to 15×11-inch rectangle. Spread butter over dough, leaving 1/2-inch border. Sprinkle cinnamon sugar evenly over butter. Starting at 1 long side, roll dough into log, pinching gently to keep it rolled up. With seam side down, slice dough crosswise into 18 equal slices. The easiest way to do this is halve the log, then halve the half and so on.

Spray two baking trays with nonstick spray, then divide rolls between trays. Cover baking dishes with plastic wrap, then kitchen towel. Let dough rise in warm draft-free area until almost doubled in volume, 40 to 45 minutes. Preheat oven to 375°F/190°C, then bake rolls until tops are golden, about 20 minutes. Remove from oven and cool for 10 minutes.

Making the glaze:

Combine cream cheese, icing sugar, butter, and vanilla in a bowl. Beat until smooth. Spread glaze on rolls. Enjoy served warm or at room temperature. Microwaving the leftover scrolls for breakfast the next day is also advisable!

Food, food and more glorious food at a market in Bastille, Paris. It was very early in the morning (thanks jet-lag) and we got there just as all the vendors were setting up. There was nothing to do but buy a nutella crêpe and perch on a bench waiting for them to open. It was the first time I tried nutella. Or ‘noooo-tella’ as the girl making it said. (As she I couldn’t help but think of Amélie, imagining records being made with a crêpe rake.)

Eventually the market jolted to life, and we bought as much cheese, bread and fruit as we could carry. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the intoxicating scent of fresh yellow pears, stacked high to the stall roof.

Bastille Market - Sundays
Boulevard Richard-Lenoir, Bastille, Paris.

Le Refuge des Fondues offers little choice, but a lot of fun. I have wanted to visit this quirky Parisian fondue joint ever since I heard about its choice of wine glass; the humble baby bottle.

We walked in and asked for a table – no problem – we were shown a seat immediately. Then the fun started… I was told to clamber over the table and wedge myself in between the other patrons.  Ladies! If you’re in Paris good manners prevail, which means you’ll be seated on the banquette, so wear pants.

Post-acrobatics, the waiter asked for our order. There’s only two choices to make here – red or white wine, cheese or meat fondue? Vin blanc! Fromage! And away we went:

The other diners are merry, the graffiti is coarse, the service is efficiently French, and the food is filling. For 18 euro you’ll receive a baby’s bottle of wine, a fondue to share, a sweet apéritif, and a platter of bar snacks to nibble from.

Do go if you’re in Paris, it is a hilarious dining experience. Be warned though: it’s hotter than the sun in there. Don’t underestimate the power of 30 fondue pots filled with burbling cheese and oil – you may have to seek refuge in more than one baby bottle of wine!

Le Refuge des Fondues
A. 17 rue des Trois-Freres, 75018, Paris, France
T. 0142552265