The Good Life - Christmas Pudding - Se lancait un défi!

 A hard end to November

The Winter weather has arrived in earnest this weekend, and in the allotment the early November muddy tracks that separated the raised beds were neatly filled with crisp snow this morning. Is there anything left in the beds to eat? Yes there is. The prolific giant woody stalks of the Jerusalem artichokes have finally wilted and their great crop lies perfectly preserved in the undisturbed soil. The spinach has also survived, and to our surprise so has the late crop of lettuce. The most prominent survivors in the allotment are the leeks, Brussels sprouts, and kale, which although battered by recent winds appear to be in reasonably healthy condition.

After only fifteen minutes my hands became bitterly cold and sore. Having quickly got back on the road, I recommenced my search for the final outstanding ingredients to use in my apple and dried fruit Christmas pudding. The shredded vegetarian suet was ultimately purchased in the last of four searches of nearby supermarkets. One would have thought this product would be a well stocked item at this time of year, but sadly the homemade traditional Christmas pudding may be a thing of the past!

My recipe is a little different. It was published in Sainsburys Magazine in November 2004 and it immediately caught my attention because of the rich variety of ingredients. In a similar manner to the first time I embarked on making this recipe, I have been examining my dry stores over the last few days and established a list of the  purchases required. My ceramic pudding bowls remain unbroken and unchiped, but there was no dried apple or shredded suet to be found in the cupboards. I also noticed my ground mixed spice had disappeared! I link some of these observations to Corinne of course, who recently informed me she had cleaned the cupboards, and in doing so questioned  the need for certain items (without querying me). Having recently converted her to chutney, I have decided it is time for another challenge: Christmas pudding. After a brief description of the ingredients there was some hope at hand, but this halted following my description of suet. The initial reaction brought a quizzical look, which quickly turned to one of horror, and incredulity, peppered with French resistance; a look which I am growing accustomed to. Se lancait un défi!

The chopped dried fruit

Amidst the overnight snowfall, it has been a good seasonal adventure gathering together all the ingredients in preparation for this pudding of puddings. The next decision centers around the question of the number to be made, and how much mixture should I make? Ultimately, I decided to add to the recipe and increase the quantities, in order to make a few mini puddings. My first attempt at cooking this pudding involved a different adventure which will not be repeated. I decided to cook them all over the course of a single night as I was working for most of the day. My alarm clock was set every two hours through the night, so that the pots could be refilled with water to the required level, because of the serious risk of the water evaporating entirely and the pot burning. Adopting my experience in offshore racing, and curious ability to deal with sleep deprivation, I struggled through the night with successive steamings of the puddings, finally going to work with the usual, and expected, side effects of unpredictability, crankiness and lack of concentration coming to the fore.

Orange and lemon zest

To make two 1.2 litre puddings you shall require the following: sultanas 250g; raisins 250g; roughly chopped dates 200g; roughly chopped dried figs 200g; roughly chopped dried apricots 150g; roughly chopped dried apple 150g; warmed brandy 200ml; mixture of almonds and hazelnuts 200g; zest of 1 orange and 1 lemon; breadcrumbs 200g; plain flour 75g; ground mixed spice 1 teaspoon; shredded suet 200g; light soft brown sugar 225g; treacle 95g; and 4 lightly beaten large eggs.

Warm the brandy and pour it over the sultanas, raisins, dates, figs, apricots and apple, leaving the ingredients to soak for about a day. Having an inbuilt mechanism for changing a plan at the last minute, I also added about 150g of irresistible prunneaux d'Agen into my mixture of dried fruit. Turning the different fruit over in the bowl a sweet scent begins to emerge from the bowl, but once the warmed brandy is poured over the fruit the room quickly fills with a rich sweet aroma. French brandy might be a little expensive for this recipe, however a Spanish brandy, aged in oak sherry casks, compliments the diverse complexity of flavours in the dried fruit.

 Light brown soft sugar, eggs and treacle

Toast the almonds and hazelnuts in an oven for about 6 minutes, and after allowing them to cool before chopping. Combine them with the orange and lemon zest, breadcrumbs, flour and mixed spice, and the dreaded shredded suet. In another bowl beat together the eggs, treacle and light brown soft sugar. Spoon the egg and sugar mixture into the brandy soaked dried fruit and mix well. Then add the breadcrumb, suet and nuts etc. and gently stir combining all the ingredients well. At this point I introduced Corinne to a mysterious Irish tradition whereby everybody who stirs the pudding mixture is allowed to make one secret wish. During the Celtic tiger era this tradition may have been artificially augmented and exaggerated by greedy individuals who made many wishes, and obviously the wish does not extend to the unrealistic and fantastic, such as ridiculous desires in relation to the Irish Banks, EU and IMF bail outs. She did not grasp the concept immediately. However after a little thought she began to stir, and gave the wooden spoon a decent work out for several minutes.

 
The dreaded shredded suet

I normally let the mixture stand for a while before spooning it into the pudding bowls. When filling the pudding bowls press down firmly before covering with baking parchment, or greaseproof paper. As the pudding expands while cooking it is advisable toput a 2 or 3 centimeter pleat across the center of the sheet and repeat the process with a sheet of aluminium foil. These two covers must be secured well with string around the rim. This is not as easy as it sounds, however it ensures the boiling or simmering water will not get into the pudding bowl.

toasted almonds and hazelnuts

The bowls must be placed in a pot of boiling water reaching two thirds the way up their sides. The steaming pot should be covered well and puddings left to cook for five or six hours. It is important to remember to check the water levels occasionally, and top up with boiling water when necessary, to prevent the pot burning due to evaporation. Once removed from the water allow the puddings to cool, and thereafter check whether or not they are sufficiently cooked. To test, you can insert a skewer into a pudding and if it is cooked the skewer should come out clean.

 The Mason ceramic pudding bowls covered and tied

Before storing the puddings secure a fresh piece of baking parchment and aluminium foil on top of each bowl. When you wish to serve the pudding, it should be steamed for at least two hours. Thereafter it can be turned out and served with whatever sauce, cream, butter or custard takes your fancy. Obviously the common ingredient to all of these embellishments is brandy, and I would also recommend flaming the pudding with warmed brandy. Of course, by the time you have tasted your apple and dried fruit Christmas pudding your secret wish should have come true!

 Six hours later

Baking in January - pear and apricot frangipane

Gateaux at Hirsinger, Arbois

December in France is a celebration of food and drink, and in particular there is a focus on the traditional patisseries and chocolatiers which produce decadent cakes and chocolates. Having stayed a few nights in Arbois, in the Jura region, I had the opportunity to see the displays of gateaux, marrons glacees and chocolates at Hirsinger, one of the finest chocolatiers and patisseries in France. Entering the shop you become intoxicated with the heady scent of rich chocolate which lures you towards their counters, and a purchase.

Returning home after Christmas through Paris with Corinne meant I could indulge myself with a brief excursion to gaze at the fashionable creations on display at Laduree and Fauchon. Time did not allow a visit to the Le Notre boutique patisserie, which was a shame because Mr. Le Notre, a legend and creator of the revolutionary "Opera" gateau, had just died at the grand old age of 88.

An iced cake with macaroons at Laduree, Paris

In the busy run up to Christmas in France, the media focus their attention on the patisseries of Laduree and Le Notre, flagships of their art, as they produced their own elegant and exclusive examples of the traditional buche de noel. The interviews gave a brief tantalising glimpse into the kitchens or cuisines of these establishments. The cameras panning around allowed us to see the chefs at Laduree attentively finishing the buches, encrusting the rich butter icing with a variety of macaroons using the skill and care of an instrument grade jeweller.

When I passed Laduree there was a reverent queue outside which was casually organised and watched over by a rather gruesome undignified looking security guard. Why? It appears that no recession on the planet can reduce the demand for the dainty colourful macaroons that are the trademark of Laduree. Fauchon was more sedate and modern displaying its culinary creations with a confident bravado in its wraparound windows.

Carre frambroise from Fauchon, Paris

Installed back in my humble small open plan kitchen dining & living area, I felt inspired by the modern alchemy I had witnessed in the gateaux cares (square cakes) and mignardises (a fancy french word for small cakes), but obviously less so by the English language which rarely does justice to these delicacies. I wanted to make a cake or tart, but gradually realised my limitations in setting out to use the ingredients that were easily available. In my local supermarket I was able to purchase pears from Portugal and apricots from South Africa. It almost felt as disappointing, wasteful and decadent as standing in line at Laduree, but it appears very little locally produced fruit is sold by Irish shops and supermarkets.

The night before baking, I poached 10 apricots in a white wine and vanilla syrup; 250mils of water, 50gs of sugar, glass of white wine and a vanilla pod.

Making pastry is far from difficult. However, some rules apply because if the pastry is poor the tart might be edible but will certainly be miserable. Pastry requires good baking flour and chilled butter, mixed and rubbed together in a 2:1 ratio. If you feel tempted to use something other than butter try to remember the words "edible" and "miserable" and you might be inclined to change your mind. Anthony Bourdain in his book "Kitchen Confidential" chose more caustic remarks to reinforce his viewpoint on this topic.

It is a distinct advantage in making a good shortcrust pastry to have a pair of cold hands. During Winter this is rarely a problem for me, but I ritually runs my hands under cold water during the warmer months. Having rubbed the flour and butter together to a breadcrumb consistency, add two or three tablespoons of cold water and mix until all the ingredients combine (if using 200gs of flour and 100gs of butter). If the mixture remains dry add more water, and if it becomes too moist add some more flour. Then place your pastry in the fridge for half an hour or more.

While the pastry is resting in the fridge you can make the frangipane. For my 8 inch square baking tin I use the following ingredients: Butter -125gs, Sugar - 125gs, Ground almonds - 125gs, Eggs - 3, Flour - 2 heaped tablespoons.

In a food processor blend the butter and sugar for a few minutes until well combined. Thereafter add the eggs one by one mixing all the time. At this point you can add some vanilla extract if you wish. Thereafter, add the ground almonds and flour and pulse two or three times, as the mixture should not be overworked with these ingredients. If the mixture appears too runny add a little more flour.

My pear and apricot frangipane tart before it went into the oven

Take the pastry from the fridge and roll it out on a floured surface until the pastry is about 4mm thick. Grease your tin with butter, dust with flour and lay in the pastry. Trim the pastry and neaten the edges. After straining the apricots and reserving the syrup, tear away the fleshy fruit of the apricots from the stones, and place on the pastry in the baking tin. With a spatula spread the frangipane mix evenly over the apricots. Having pealed, cored and cut in half three or four pears, place them neatly on the frangipane mixture. The pears can be fanned by carefully slicing the base of the fruit, which among other things gives a nice effect when glazed. Without further ado, place the tart in a preheated oven at 180C and cook for about 45 minutes. The frangipane is cooked when it has risen and is well browned. You can also dip a knife into the tart and if it comes out clean the tart is cooked.

Once taken from the oven, leave the tart to cool for 10 minutes. In the meantime, place two tablespoons of apricot jam into a small saucepan with two tablespoons of the reserved apricot syrup and bring to the boil. Thereafter, liberally brush the glaze onto the tart and leave to stand and cool. The vanilla enriched apricots provide a wonderful luxurious edge to the standard pear and almond tart and if you are prepared to use just about every piece of kitchen equipment you own I am sure you will not be disappointed with this tart.

The glazed apricot and pear frangipane tart

As a postscript I have to admit that I always make a little too much pastry. This can be put down to a deliberate attempt at gluttony, but it does allow me to experiment a little. I have uploaded a photograph of a few apple and apricot glazed tarts which I made with the pastry cuttings and left overs. The remnants of the apricot glaze also came in handy to decorate these little fruit tarts.