Sourmilk bundt cake with dried fruit - a Christmas classic for a reason (vegan, kosher)

This moist sourmilk cake with dried fruit is a Christmas classic for a reason!

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This year, too, the Cat Blogger's Christmas table will feature some unlikely traditions (tzatsiki, Nigerian stew and one Hanukkah menora-wielding food blogger for whom 2 kilos of shrimps has already been stashed away in the freezer!) along with some more classic treats. 

One of them is this moist sourmilk bundt cake, the family heirloom recipe of which has now been trusted with me, too.

The recipe is so old it actually gives the measurements in coffee cups and the final product is baked over camp fire wearing a loin cloth. 

Ok, I might have added that last bit for dramatic effect, but you get the idea. It's old. But, as the oldies often come, they're classics for a reason. 

My recipe's been converted into a bit more precise measurements (how oh, very 21st century!) seeing how I don't even drink coffee, let alone own a collection of coffee cups. As for the dried fruit, you can use just raisins, or add some dates and/or figs in the mix, too. I use them all as... well, it's Christmas.

While not normally a massive fan of bundt cakes (they tend to be served by dry old ladies and the cakes seem to be every bit as dry and old) I do love this one. Last Christmas I had two six slices (somehow trying to make sense of the fact that not celebrating Christmas in my case seems to mean celebrating at least two of them each year). 

The batter comes together in the time it takes to pre-heat the oven and I've just been revealed that the version I so happily wolfed down last year was actually vegan. 

So, here you go - both versions of the cake! 

Buttermilk bundt cake with dried fruit:

4,5 dl all purpose flour

1,5 dl sugar

1,5 tsp cinnamon

1 tsp baking soda

3 dl raisins (and/or dates and/ or figs (I use 1 dl of each)

1,5 dl syrup

2,25 dl buttermilk (or same amount of soy milk mixed with 1 tbsp of vinegar)

1 egg (or 2 tbsp of chia seeds mixed with 4 tbsp of water)

150 g butter (or margarin), melted

Also:

butter (or margarin) and bread crumbs for preparing the tin

Pre-heat the oven to 175°c  (in convection oven 150° should do). Grease and dust the tin. 

In case using dates and/ or figs, cut them into smaller pieces. 

Combine dry ingredients and fold in the dried fruit.

Beat syrup with buttermilk and egg. Add into the dry ingredients. Finally whisk in melted and slightly cooled butter.

Pour the batter into the prepared tin. Bake at the lower part of the oven for 40-50 minutes (depending on the oven) until a skewer inserted into the cake comes out clean. 

Let cool in the tin and then turn it out onto a serving platter. Serve and be merry!

And along with this recipe the blog is going to bugger off for a short holiday. May you all have a wonderful Christmas/ Hanukkah/ Kwanzaa!

Meet you back here on December 27th, ok?  That's when I'll be presenting you last of the Bulgarian souvenirs!

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ANYONE FOR SECONDS?

         

SHARING IS CARING!

Food of love: chicken pot pie and Bellingham The Bernard Series Old Vine Chenin Blanc

People often ask me how the recipes are born. Sure, sometimes they are a result of carefully thought through planning. But often (*sighs*), like this one, they are results of trial and error. And accidents. A whole lot of accidents. But then again, that's how many great things have seen the daylight in the history of humanity: Champagne, penicillin, discovery of America... and Donald Trump's hair, I can only imagine.

Initially my plan was to make one of those filo-crust Greek chicken pies that I so fell in love with in Greece last summer. But filo pastry is not my friend. Oh, no. The filling, however, was so tasty, I recycled the idea into this, English-style pie. 

The pie, which charms already with its rustic appearance, does take some time (what with the cooking the whole chicken, but it is worth the effort. And it most decidedly is labour of love. As you're pulling the meat out of the carcass, your kitchen full of homely aromas from the poaching liquid; onion, thyme and garlic, you can't help but be transported into a small Greek village.

The sun is shining, the sheep are baah'ing in the valley down below and laughter of children playing outside can be heard in the kitchen, too. There's that familiar clatter of dishes as the long table is being set in the shade underneath the olive tree for lunch. Soon there's another familiar sound as the cork pops open and wine is being poured into the glasses and it's time to sit down and enjoy being together. "C'mon everybody- time to eat!"

And if preparing the pie is labour of love, love is what it tastes of, too. Serve it with salad on the side and its rich enough to be the star of your next Sunday lunch.

In case you want a traditional pie with the crust all the way through, use two sheets of puff pastry. Roll the first one to cover the base and sides of your dish, cover it with tin foil and pre-bake at 200º (180º should do for fan assisted ovens) for 20 minutes. The remove the foil, add the filling and follow the instructions on the recipe. 

In case your chicken is all natural (as in, no seasoning on it at all), remember to be generous with salt and pepper!

Puff pastry covered chicken pie:

3 stalks of celery 

3 carrots

3 onions

4 large cloves of garlic, finely chopped

bunch of thyme (or 1/4 dl dried)

4 bay leaves

1 entire chicken (about 1,4 kg)

water

a couple of tbsp oil, for sautéing

3 eggs, lightly beaten

salt, pepper (to taste)

1 large sheet of (ready made) puff pastry (for kosher pie, use vegan puff pastry)

for glazing: 1 egg, lightly beaten

Pat the chicken dry. Chop the veggies into 1 cm cubes. Heat oil in a big pot and sauté the veggies for a couple of minutes. Then add thyme and the bay leaves. Keep cooking them, too, for a couple of more minutes and then add chicken. Pour enough water into the pot to almost cover the chicken and bring to boil. Then lower the heat and leave to simmer, covered, until chicken is done - about 1,5 hours.

Remove the chicken and leave aside until cool enough to handle. Drain the poaching liquid (don't discard the veggies!) and pour it back into the pan. Reduce, uncovered, until you're left with 2,5 dl of stock. Let cool to room temperature and combine with the eggs. 

Once chicken is cool enough to handle, remove the skin and shred the meat. Add into the veggies and pour in the poaching liquid. Check the taste and season with salt and pepper. 

Pour the mixture into the pie dish (mine was 20 cm x 30 cm). Brush the edges and sides of the dish with the glaze - this helps the lattice to stick.

Roll the pastry sheet and cut, lengthwise, into 1,5 cm strips. Place them over the pie dish into one direction at even intervals. Then weave the remaining ones across them by lifting every other of the strips of the first round. Brush with the remaining glaze and bake at 200º until the filling is bubbling and the crust is beautifully golden - about 30-35 minutes. 

Let cool a little and serve.

And the verdict? "Tastes just like something my Nonna would have made!" sighed Tzatziki Champion who came over for last week's Sunday lunch. As I said. Pure love. 

And since Sundays are to be enjoyed (and I did mention the promising sound of wine being poured...) we, too, cracked open a bottle. Bellingham The Bernard Series Old Vine Chenin Blanc, to be precise. The toastiness borders on smokey and goes well with the toastiness of puff pastry crust (would go well with salmon en croûte, too!) Oakiness adds edge to its ripe fruitiness and this would work well with richer, creamier dishes, too. Or grilled chicken. 

And hey, if you like this wine, try it with my recipe for okonomiyaki, Japanese cabbage-filled omelet.

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SHARING IS CARING!

Gluten-free strawberry and rhubarb bake

My alma mater (yes, I've got one of those!) was kind enough of remember me with an invite to one of their alumni events. You know, to pose around in the distinguished company of fellow graduates, engage in deep and meaningful discussions on the role of the university as the beacon of civilization and nod knowledgeably when the moment called for it. 

I was kind enough to wait a whole 2 minutes before discarding the invitation. Oh Alma. Where to begin?

Yes, for seven years I loitered around your hallways and believed how Arts and Humanities produces deeply cultured professionals with wide range of expertise with all the reason in the world to feel great professional pride (I might have wanted to pay more attention to the words of my first lecturer as he laughed declaring how we'd never find work...)

Little did I know: the list of requirements for successful candidates in the jobs in my field tend to be longer than the Great Wall of China, yet the money wouldn't get an Economics graduate out of the bed.

Yes, I am academically trained. But can't even remember the last time I said those world out loud without them being followed by  the word "unemployed". Which kind of erodes the shine of the first two words. I know I'm not alone: university graduates make up the fastest growing bunch in the unemployment statistics. Not a great party to be in. I bet even Saddam Hussein threw better ones.

In those seven years I learnt a lot. Like, to read hieroglyphs. And the fact that due to the economizing tendency of the spoken language interdentals tend to evolve into sibilants in proto-Semitic languages. 

In the seven years since the graduation I've learnt even more. Like the fact that the languages that had been dead for a good 4000 years by then, were still dead. Which doesn't make brushing up on one's Aramaic terribly easy (once, at a party I slipped into a conversation details on the etymology of the word for sun in ancient Babylonia. Never saw that guy again...) I also learnt that it's probably not a good idea to include Middle Kingdom hieroglyphs in the languages section of one's resumé. Unless I want to come across as a lunatic, of course.

So, were I to make educational choices now, the results of which I'd live with for the rest of my life, I'd probably choose something a bit more rational. Like business administration. Or lion taming.

So, I didn't go (they would have had some dried up store-bought biscuits anyway). Instead I stayed home. And baked. Nothing dried up about my night - not the bake or the company!

Strawberry and rhubarb bake:

200 g butter

2 dl sugar

2 eggs

1 tsp vanilla extract / vanilla sugar

1 tsp baking powder

4-4,5 dl gluten-free flour mixture or all purpose flour 

150 g rhubarb, 250 g strawberries

Crumble mixture:

40 g butter

3/4 dl sugar

3/4 dl gluten-free flour mixture/ all-purpose flour

1/ 4 dl almond flakes

Cream sugar and butter, then add eggs and vanilla essence. Combine dry ingredients in and add into the mix. Pour the mixture into a (parchment-lined) oven-proof dish.

Using your fingers, rub the ingredients for the crumble mixture together.

Spread cubed up rhubarb and strawberries (or what ever fruit or berries you prefer) onto bake and top with the crumble mixture. Bake at 200º for half an hour (cover with foil for the last 10 minutes if it seems to be getting too much colour).

Let cool and serve.

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Go bananas! Banana and walnut cake with peanut butter frosting

Getting into the details of how this cake was born might get too confusing even for the most seasoned of the readers so suffice to say it involves a Sunday lunch, drag queen bingo, someone getting fired and a couple of bottles of wine. Oh, and a Leprechaun. 

The idea for the frosting on the other hand was inspired by Klaus K American Grill's Christmas lunch. 

Yummeee!

Banana and walnut cake:

3 really ripe bananas

the juice of 1/2 lemon

5 dl all purpose flour

1,5 tsp baking soda

1/2 tsp salt

1,5 tso ground cardamom

125 g butter, at room temperature

2 dl sugar (or 1 dl of brown sugar + 1 dl regular)

3 eggs

1,5 tsp vanilla essence (or vanilla sugar)

2 dl buttermilk (or 1 dl Greek yogurt + 1 dl milk)

100 g walnuts, roughly chopped

Peanut butter frosting:

200 g cream cheese

3 tbsp peanut butter (non-sweetened kind)

1 tbsp lemon juice

4 tbsp icing sugar

For decorating: dried banana or walnuts (optional)

Mash the bananas, combine with lemon juice and set aside. Combine the dry ingredients. Cream butter and sugar and then add eggs. Beat in mashed bananas and then, altering, buttermilk and flour mixture. Finally fold in walnuts.

Pour into a loaf tin either buttered and sprinkled with breadcrumbs OR lined with parchment. Bake at 180-190 (depends on the oven!)  for about an hour. Halfway through cover the cake with tin foil to stop it from getting too brown. 

Let cool in the tin (until the next day if you have the will power as much like carrot cake, this only gets better!) remove and cover with frosting.

For the frosting whisk all the ingredients together.

PS. We made this for National Peanut Butter Day. But the recipe will come in equally handy on National Banana Bread Day on February 23rd, too! Or August 27th, which marks the national Banana Lover's Day. Oh, the things they come up with in America...!

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Spicy pumpkin pie

Pretty much a year ago to this date I was wandering around Hietalahti cemetery and pondering life. And death. And love. And lovelessness. At the same time not far from that cemetery a man had discovered this blog and waited. Waited for me to be ready to notice him and make room for his love in my little life. Some months later that very man made his first appearance on the blog and you've all come to know him as The Boy Next Door.

A lot has happened in year since. It's been full of both joy and sorrow, surprises and disappointments. A year of changes; one endless learning curve. All the more reason to remember gratitude. Life did carry me. And will carry me into the future, too.

In addition to my friends and family my colleagues have proved to be the source of such help and support I never could have imagined. And how else am I going to thank them if not by baking a pie! And what better way to give thanks than a pumpkin pie. Worry not - we're nearly done with the pumpkin mania...

The crust:

400 g Digestives/ graham crackers

150 g butter

Melt the butter and let it brown a bit. Blizz the Digestives in a food processor and combine with butter so you're left with he consistency of wet sand. Press it firmly onto the bottom and sides of a 23-cm springform pan lined with parchment and chill for half an hour. Bake at 180 for 5 minutes and let cool.

Filling:

600 g pumpkin purée (you could also use sweet potato!)
3 eggs

1 tbsp brown sugar

1 tbsp gingerbread spice mix

1 tsp finely grated orange zest

1 can (400 g) condensed milk

Roast the pumpkin (should you need directions, please see here and here), let cool a bit and purée. You can prepare the purée already the day before, allowing it enough time to cool.

Combine with rest of the ingredients, check the taste and pour into the cooled pie crust. Bake at 200º for 10 minutes and then lower the temperature to 175º. Continue baking for another 30-40 minutes until almost set and just a little wobbly in the middle. Let cool in room temperature and chill for a couple of hours before serving. With a  dollop of whipped cream. 

PS. For a gluten-free pie, use gluten-free Digestives

PPS. Condensed milk can be substituted with a tub of cream cheese but in which case use more sugar

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¡ Viva el Kräftskiva !

Though crayfish, cooked in its dilly broth is the bona fide star of the kräftskiva table, you've got to have something else to feed your diners too. Like the Mediterranean potato salad. But sure enough the crayfish craziness wasn't satisfied with just the plate heaving with them - we just had to have some more. 

Moderation, you see, is something you might have noticed isn't exactly my forte. Less is never more and too much is only rarely enough.

And though all that fiddling with the shells is a lovely activity in itself I wanted to give our guests a little easier access to the succulent treats. So, in celebration of this blog's roots and the Mediterranean theme of our this year's kräftskiva I baked a tart which got a lovely Iberian kick from chorizo and pimenton. And the secret behind the sunny colour of the crust? Spanish saffron! Because ¿por que pas?

You all probably know the pie crust by heart by now, non? You'll find it in here, in here and in here, too. I dissolved a pinch of saffron threads (appr. 2 g) into the liquid that goes into the crust.

Prepare the crust and blind bake at 200º, first 15 minutes covered with foil and baking beans/ regular dried beans/ rice and then without he foil for another 10 minutes or so. Let cool while you prepare the filling.

Filling:

150 g crayfish tails

the zest of 1/2 lemon, finely grated

1/2 tsp pimentón 

1/2 tsp ground coriander seeds

1/2 tsp granulated garlic

50 g good chorizo (charcuterie type)

2 spring onion stalks, the green bits, chopped (appr. 2 dl )

75 g corn

handful of parsley leaves

Combine lemon zest, pimentón, coriander seeds and garlic powder. Drain crayfish tails , squeeze dry and toss in the spice mixture. Finely slice chorizo and chop the spring onions. Spoon the filling into the cooled pastry case: first spring onion, then chorizo, then corn, then crayfish tails and finally parsley leaves. Or, how ever you prefer. Top with custard and bake at 175º for 30-40 minutes until set and golden brown. Let cool and serve.

Custard:

2,5 dl cream

1,5 dl milk

3 eggs

1/2 tsp salt

1 generous tsp freshly ground black pepper

Whisk thoroughly and pour over the filling before baking. 

PS. For even easier to manage recipe for an oil-based crust that I recently used for the tomato, basil and ricotta tart please click yourself here!

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ANYONE FOR SECONDS? 



      

Tomato, basil and ricotta - holy trinity if there ever was one

Best bars are the sort that don't even feel like bars. You know what I mean: the sort of bars that are sufficiently small and intimate; equipped with great staff and superb regulars so it feels as if you're just hanging out at a friend's place. That's exactly what our Bar Bhangra is.

As one of the bar maids moved on to another bar, we all got together for a going away picnic. Unlike everywhere else in Helsinki, our tragically unhipster household did not wake up to a crippling Flow-hangover: I was up before 8am, baking a pie. See, life doesn't get much less hipster than that!

Tomato, basil and ricotta. That's a trinity that is well and truly holy. See, there are things Italians can organize. You know, apart from crime...!

The crust is the recipe that I've used for caramelized onion galette and kale quiche. This time I used 3 dl of all purpose flour and 0,75 dl rye flour. Rosemary oil (recipe here!) gives it lovely herbiness which compliments the Mediterranean flavours of the tart.

Since the filling has quite a bit of moisture in it, I blind baked the shell first: 10 minutes at 175° covered with foil and baking beans followed by 5 minutes without the foil. Whether or not you sauté the onions first is up to you but the new harvest onions you get i the summer are milder and sweeter so there's really no need for that.

Instead of cherry tomatos you can use regular ones, cut into 1 cm slices (depending on the size you'll need 6-8). You can also use whole cherry tomatos in which case you'll about a kilo. Don't forget to prick them with the tip of a sharp knife before they go in the oven to stop them from bursting.

You'll find the recipe for the crust here. The recipe is enough for 28-cm fluted tin.

Filling:

250 g ricotta

1 egg

handful of chopped basil leaves

6 large sun dried tomatos, chopped

1 tsp salt

1 generous tsp freshly ground black pepper

1/2 tsp granulated garlic

1 (new harvest) onion

600 g - 1 kg  cherry tomatos

Mix the ingredients and spread onto the cooled pastry shell. Peel and finely slice the onion and spread on top of the ricotta layer. Cut the cherry tomatos in half and place on top of the onions. Bake at 200° for 30-40 minutes. Cool and serve.

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Gluten-free lemon, Greek yogurt and poppy seed cake

The Boy Next Door makes the best kitchen assistant. Gallantly he carries my equipment as we're invited to cook at one of my friends, patiently waits until the food's been photographed before he gets any dinner and obligingly takes off for walks in the middle of the night in search of the right kind of leaves I need for a photo. Never asking questions, never protesting. Surely he deserves to be treated?

And this gluten-free, wonderfully zesty and moist cake does the trick: it makes you want to go totally overboard, I was told. Yes, even in those with no gluten allergies..!

Poppy seeds can be substituted with finely chopped rosemary too as that herb just loooooves lemon! Don't believe me? Try these lemon pudding cakes!

Lemon and polenta cake:

150 g butter

150 g sugar

150 g almond flour

2 dl (appr. 140 g) finely ground polenta

1,5 tsp baking soda

125 g Greek yogurt

the juice and finely grated zest of 3 lemons

(1 generous tbsp Limoncello, in which case the zest of 2 lemons is enough) 

3 eggs

2 tbsp poppy seeds

Combine dry ingredients. Cream soft butter with sugar in another bowl and then add eggs , one at a time, beating as you do. Then add Greek yogurt, lemon zest, lemon juice and finally the dry ingredients.

Pour into a tin, lined with parchment and bake at 175 ° for 30-35 minutes (check doneness with a skewer - it should come out dryish). Cover with foil if needed to prevent the surface from getting too dark. Remove from the oven and let cool in its tin. 

Lemon glaze:

4 tbsp icing sugar

2-3 tsp lemon juice

Combine the ingredients to a thick paste and drizzle over the cake.

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The hangover killer

Time to get cracking with the recipes from the recent Midsummer celebrations. At last. With this speed I should be done by September...

We didn't bother with any traditional Midsummer magic this year. No rolling naked in the fields, no gazing into the lake at midnight and no stashing seven different sorts of flowers under the pillow with the hope of seeing the future husband appear in a dream. Oh, no. We loved-up fools felt so confident about our future together that the only flowers were the ones on this quiche.

(All the times we've both had our arses kicked by love and still we haven't learnt a thing? Though... maybe this time we really are headed for that happily ever after...?)

But let's get to the quiche! Which, I'll have you know, charmed both with its appearance and its taste. And in case your Midsummer or any other bacchanal runs a bit late, I'll let you in on a little secret: this is just the thing in the morning after the night before. There's something about the combination of salty meat, onion, eggs and gherkins (!) that just does the trick. A slightly more eloquent, food blogger-worthy take on the hangover pizza if you will!

If you can't get your hands on cold smoked reindeer, you can use cold smoked horse meat. Or bacon bits you've first fried all crunchy. And let's face it - how could salami not work? Some of the cream could be replaced with grated cheese and chives could be substituted with just about any herb.

The crust is the trusty recipe you've all been introduced to several times - it's the one I used for salmon, spinach and egg tart and asparagus and prosciutto tart. This time I substituted 1 dl of all purpose flour with finely ground rye flour to compliment the strong flavours of the filling. As the components of the filling are rather salty in themselves, there's no need to use any salt in the crust. Oh, and the recipe? Here!

Combine the ingredients for the crust and wrap in cling film. Let rest in the fridge for half an hour. Then, on a floured surface, roll into a sheet and place inside a fluted tin (or just press the dough directly into the tin). Let rest ion the fridge for another half an hour while you pre-heat the oven. 

Spread a sheet of foil on the crust and fill with baking beans/ dried beans/ rice etc. Blind bake at 200° for 10-15 minutes, remove the foil and the beans and continue baking for another 10 minutes. Let cool for a while.

Filling:

1/2 large red onion
75 g cold smoked reindeer
1/2 dl gherkins, drained and chopped

Peel and slice the onion. If you want, sauté for a while for a softer taste and texture. Spread the onion on a slightly cooled shell, scatter reindeer crumbs on top and finally top with gherkins, chopped in 1/2 cm cubes.

The custard:

2 eggs
2 dl cream
1 dl milk
1 tbsp chopped chives
1 tsp ground black pepper

Combine the ingredients and pour over the filling. Bake at 175° for 30-40 minutes until set. Let cool. Decorate with strips of cold smoked reindeer and rucola. Serve. And voilá - you're ready to start doing Macarena around the maypole again!

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