It's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas

After the craziness of the end of the school year, it's been lovely to be back at home with my family.  This basically means loud chatting, baking, copious cups of tea, shopping trips and lunches out.  I always take advantage of staying at my mother's house because she has two ovens...yes, two.  It's absolute heaven.  This necessity arose when I was a teenager and poor Mum would always have to compete to use her own oven.  She'd be wanting to cook dinner but we'd have a batch of something-or-other baking that just couldn't wait.  So the solution to that problem has served me well and I can have TWO different things baking at TWO different temperatures.....it's the best.

I only ever make biscotti at Christmas time.  Not sure why, exactly but it just feels right.  Biscotti, or biscotto, means "twice-baked" and this scrumptious, crispy little biscuit holds its own against a strong cup of coffee and loud family chatter.  I love this particular recipe because it's not too sweet.  The sugar, chocolate and roasted almond crunch complement each other perfectly.

Chocolate and Almond Biscotti

270g plain flour, sifted

1 1/2 tsp baking powder

30g dark cocoa powder, sifted

165g caster sugar

3/4 cup blanched almonds

3 eggs

2 1/2 tsp vanilla extract

Preheat your oven to 160 degrees celsius and line a flat baking tray.  Mix together the flour, baking powder, cocoa, sugar and almonds.  Add the eggs and the vanilla and combine to form a dough.  Your dough consistency can range between smooth and sticky depending on the size of your eggs, but don't add any more flour.

Divide the dough in two and lightly knead each piece on a floured surface until smooth - this won't take long.  Shape the logs and flatten slightly.  Place on your pre-prepared tray and bake for 35 minutes.  Remove from the oven and cool completely.

Use a serrated knife to cut the log into 5mm slices.  Place back onto your baking tray and bake for a further 15 minutes until your biscotti are crisp.

Happy baking,

F. x

Cookbook Love

I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas, full of food, family, laughter and joy!

I absolutely adore Christmas Day - more than any other day of the year - and I was far from disappointed this year.  Each and every member of my family (including moi) was well-spoilt and well-fed.  It's not very often that I am "fooded" out but today is definitely one of those days! In the post Christmas feast haze, cooking is the last activity you feel like.  I did however manage to read about cooking and so, my day was not wasted entirely.  Included in my Christmas stocking were two fabulous books: Frankie's Afternoon Tea and Nigella's How to be a Domestic Goddess.  Both are full of deliciousness and I am already planning my next bakefest - stay tuned!

F. x

Twas the night before Christmas...

Every family has their own Christmas Eve tradition.  Sometimes it's watching a particular movie, or visiting particular family members.  In my family, it was preparing for the next day's feast.  Since I was around sixteen, the job has fallen to me to make Rum Balls.  The recipe always started with ten weetbix in the food processor with cocoa, raisins, condensed milk and rum.  In the last couple of years, I have deviated from this original recipe to discover something wholly rummier, yummier and more calorific.

My "Rum Truffles", as I called them, are a perfect hybrid of Chocolate Truffles and Rum Balls. They begin with a rich, brownie base which is blitzed with a whole lot of rum once cooled. I then set to rolling this mixture into the obligatory 'ball' shape which I find to be a gloriously calming activity - much like any repetitive task.  Trays of the 'brownie balls' (not looking incredibly appetising, yet) are then refrigerated (or popped into the freezer if a quick fix is needed) until set.  Copious amounts of milk and dark chocolate are then melted before each lovely rummy, brownie ball is submerged into whichever is your pleasure.  The slightly wonky, dark brown creatures emerge, in a waterfall of shiny, chocolately glory, just begging to be eaten.  It is with great sadness that they are put back into the fridge.  However, this wait is made ever so slightly easier by the knowledge that the best is yet to come for these drunken darlings. 

There are a number of choices for titivating the seemingly boring (in appearance, of course, never in flavour) chocolate 'lumps' up. I chose two: one, the most dramatic and sophisticate looking; and second, the most childlike, whimsical way I could think of.  In option one, the trays are drizzled, haphazardly, with white chocolate which contrasts beautifully with the milk and dark chocolate.  I love the elegance of the result.  I do feel that option number two will also appeal to you, as much as it does to me.  While white chocolate is still used, it is less elegantly dolloped into the top of each chocolate sphere and topped with a piece of chopped glace' cherry, this emulating....a christmas pudding!!!

Whilst I truly believe that presentation and appearance is of the utmost importance, the key marker of whether or not you are dealing with an exceptional rum ball/truffle/whatever, the warming of the heart as it goes down. There is a fine balance between a hint of rum and that terrible burning sensation as your body registers the alcohol that has entered it.  My family anxiously awaits their Christmas Day delivery of these gloriously seasonal treats and they will not be disappointed tomorrow as my (and my husband's) discerning tastesbuds have already given this batch the "all clear."

Enjoy responsibly!

F. x

More Pictures than Prose

All week, I have been busily preparing my darling Christmas Care Packages and just had to give you a sneaky peek.  Be prepared for your mouth to start watering as you take in the glorious stacks of buttery, lemon shortbread (don't you just love the way it all gets stuck on the roof of your mouth?) and my people-pleasing chocolate caramel slice.  Both are personal favourites of mine and have people asking for them every year.

 

Enjoy!

F. x

Christmas Traditions

My younger sister and I began a Christmas tradition a few years back of making festive Red Velvet Cupcakes.  Given that most of my family dislike cream cheese however, we were required to deviate slightly from the cream cheese frosting that usually graces these little beauties.  My personal favourite is a whipped-to-perfection vanilla buttercream frosting, casually dolloped on each cupcake, giving them a lovely homemade treatment.

So as is now customary, Lizzie and I got together and baked gorgeous red velvet cupcakes in sweet polka-dotted cases.  There is something so special about baking with a loved one and sharing the joy as all the ordinary ingredients blend together to make something extraordinary.  Even though Lizzie seemed slightly more interested in licking the beater once the cakes were in the oven, we both enjoyed the quality time that we often miss out on due to the busy-ness of everyday life - laughing and chatting without the noisy interruptions of phones, television, computers or siblings. And when they emerged from the oven, we both definitely agreed that our warm, delicious cupcakes were the bee's knees!

I often find that the most difficult aspect of baking is not ensuring exact measurements or being careful not to over (or under) mix, but making sure that your creations last long enough to cool and be beautifully iced! In most cases, when we were children, cakes were very rarely iced or decorated (unless for a very special occassion) because as soon as "that smell" began drifting through the house, everyone would converge upon the kitchen and inhale whatever happened to be sitting on the cooling racks - sorry Mum!

Sadly for Lizzie, our little Reds were not iced until the following morning and she was back at home.  Luckily for me, I had the bowl and spatula all to myself!  Unless you have done it yourself, you will not understand how satisfying (and yummy) is it to make your own buttercream.  My favourite part is watching the butter and icing sugar whipping and slowly morphing from an oily-looking lump of butter into a light, white fluffy mixture.  Modern conveniences allow for a cook to walk away whilst the frosting is whipped for its required ten minutes, but I just sit there, gazing into the bowl and watching this miraculous transformation occur.

So cakes frosted and in the fridge, there is nothing more for me to do but "clean" the bowl and put the kettle on!

Too yum!

F. x

Holy Biscotti!

"What's siscotti?" asks Dad.

"BIS-cotti," replies Mum.

"Escotti.  What's that?"

"Biscotti," laughs Mum, "is an Italian biscuit."

 I have never baked biscotti before.  Nor have I really been interested in seeking it out.  It seems to me that the humble biscotti lacks a certain production about it.  No fanfare in the form of mountains of cascading cream, not enough personality to take centre stage and stand alone. No.  Biscotti merely acts as complementary when accompanying a strong, rich espresso - a submissive trophy wife, if you will.

However, out of the blue, I decided that I MUST bake biscotti.  A traditional recipe would not do.  I felt that in order to give this biscotti a fighting chance -  in order to give this biscotti permission to shine - that I must carefully hand pick the flavours that were to grace my oven.  Vanilla, milk chocolate and roasted hazelnut was to form the initial experiment, followed by Double Chocolate and roasted hazelnut. 

The batter was less than impressive but came together magically as I kneaded: a beautifully theraputic endeavour. I must admit that I was enamoured with the slightly knobbly logs that came out of the oven after 35 minutes.  I was even more excited by the aromas that quickly filled my house as soon as those little babies entered the oven: layers of vanilla and toasting hazelnut mixed with the smell of buttery cookies.  It was to die for! Naturally, the second batch followed quickly. 

I gazed proudly upon my logs of biscotti, congratulating myself and even uploading a quick piccie to facebook so that all of my friends could do the same.

As soon as I opened my eyes this morning, I was eager to set to work, carefully slicing each log before placing each little darling piece back onto a baking tray and into the oven.  That glorious smell once again spread into each corner of the house and set my tummy rumbling.  Nothing else was going to surpass these crunchy morsels and of course, they went down extremely well with a cup of raspberry tea.  Perhaps not so traditional but thoroughly enjoyable at the same time.  Once I had deemed my crunchy little bikkies to be of a high enough standard for my boxes of Christmas love, they were wrapped up nice and tight ready to warm the hearts of my favourite people.

I am absolutely devastated about what I have clearly been missing out on all these years. Oh well, I've got an awful lot of making up to do with you, Biscotti.

F. x

Sharing the love

I have always used food as a way to show love.  There is something so lovely about being able to create something that will nourish another person and make them feel special.  My favourite experiences, conversations, memories and places revolve around food.  This Christmas, I have decided to 'share the love' by putting together wonderful little care packages of delicious goodies.  Being on school holidays also provides me the luxury of long days of playing around in the kitchen, and as much as I would love to (and sometimes try), cannot possibly eat my way through all of my creations.  I have purchased fantastic clean, white filing boxes from Kikki-K which I intend to fill with yummy goodness.  This year, I've pulled out a few ol' faithfuls - tangy lemon shortbread, indulgent red velvet cupcakes and naughty chocolate caramel slice - as well as experimenting with some I've yet to try - crisp biscotti based loosely on a Donna Hay recipe and more to be decided on.
So, with a loyal and devoted 'taster' (the title helper would be a complete and utter misrepresentation), my younger sister, Lizzie...I began my baking marathon.  Stay tuned for the results.
F. x