Flapjacks

Ten years ago, before her place in the pantheon of domestic deities was assured, Nigella Lawson got a bit of abuse for a recipe included in How To Be A Domestic Goddess. Her flapjacks were brittle, and difficult to remove from the tin, apparently. I’ve followed her recipe twice, and I dare say that they are on the crumbly side, but I’m no threat to  Nigella. She can rest secure in her elevated position in my eyes and the eyes of the nation now.

My mother’s flapjack recipe is divine. It makes no pretensions to wholesomeness. A mixture of cornflakes, oats, flour, golden syrup and butter combine to make a tooth-achingly sweet and sticky confection. It’s not an elegant creation, and these must be the sweetest flapjacks I’ve ever tasted, but I would defy you to eat just one piece.

Flapjacks could unite the nation. For the healthy, they can be filled with nuts, seeds, and dried fruit galore. For those of us who like a sugar hit that doesn’t feel empty, they are incredibly satisfying.

Last month Felicity Cloake devoted a column of her wonderful Guardian series How to Cook the Perfect… to flapjacks. She tests many recipes and presents the best. I have tried many flapjack recipes over the years, as my waistline would happily attest, and here’s the one I present to you.

Flapjacks should properly be plain, but if you’re going to add something to them, please stop before you reach the packet of raisins. Move your hand slightly to the left and pick up a bag of dried cherries instead. Cherries add the perfect sour note to provide a tangy relief to the unalloyed sweetness of a flapjack.

Makes: approx 20 flapjacks, depending on how greedy you are!

Ingredients:

• 6oz butter
• 6oz demerara sugar
• 3tbsp golden syrup
• 60z dried cherries
• 12oz rolled (porridge oats)

Method:

• Preheat the oven to 180C
• Melt the butter, sugar, and syrup in a large saucepan, over a gentle heat, until the sugar has dissolved. (An aside: I have to confess, my measuring of golden syrup is nowadays very approximate. It’s not that easy to do a clever trick with boiling water and a spoon when your toddler wants to join in too).
• Remove from the heat and add the oats and dried cherries. Stir in.
• Put the mixture into a 23cm square tin. I like to line my tin. Bake for 25 minutes, until the top has turned golden.
• Allow to cool for 20 minutes in the tin before cutting into bars or squares, and allow to cool completely on a wire rack.

Eggs

This article in the Guardian popped out at me just now. I have high regard for eggs. They are one of the most versatile ingredients in the kitchen, indispensable in a lot of baking, and alchemical in most meals. Only please don’t hard boil them. Or solely for the fun of removing the shells or painting for Easter.

I’ve made mayonnaise from scratch, cooked creme brulee (though I can’t equal my mum’s efforts) a handful of times. I make hollandaise sauce, and I scramble eggs to the delight of my husband. I love a Spanish tortilla for supper, with red peppers, onions, and potatoes. Most of all, I’m quite partial to a fried egg sandwich for breakfast; leaving the yolk till last whilst ensuring you have just enough bread to soak up any that threatens to spill onto the plate is a fine art. I dream of having chickens one day and I’m intensely jealous of my brother who is hoping to get some this summer. 

There has been too much Nigella on this blog so far, I concede, but I’m going to celebrate eggs this weekend, by making her Gateau Breton. As far as I can tell, Gateau Breton is a slightly eggier version of a Pound Cake, which contains only eggs, sugar, butter, and flour, in equal quantities. I’ve made the Nigella version before, and its delicious, but it must be six or seven years since I have had it. We bought some fresh, handmade butter from a farm shop at the weekend. What better way to enjoy the unadulterated taste of good ingredients than by using few of them, and using them simply? I’ll let you know how it goes.

Shin of Beef Stew

As I write this, I have an overwhelming urge to sit down and eat a mince pie. Why? Because I’m cooking shin of beef. More particularly, because I’m cooking shin of beef in a winey, tomatoey, cinnamon sauce that is filling the house with the scent of mulled wine.

Serves: 6-8

Ingredients

• 1.3kg shin of beef, chopped into rough 2-inch cubes
• 2 carrots, roughly chopped
• 2 celery sticks, roughly chopped
• 3 red onions, roughly chopped
• 1 bulb of garlic
• 1/2 bottle red wine
• 3 cans chopped tomatoes
• 1 cinnamon stick
• 2 bay leaves
• 2 tbsp plain flour
• 2 tbsp olive oil
• salt and pepper

Method

• Pre-heat the oven to 170C.
• Put the bulb of garlic, whole and entirely unpeeled, into a pan of hot water and simmer gently for 20 minutes. Then remove and allow to cool before peeling the cloves and mashing them. The result is a mellow garlic paste.
• Heat the oil in a large casserole and cook the onion, carrots, celery, garlic, and cinnamon on a medium heat for about five minutes.
• Meanwhile, toss the pieces of beef in seasoned flour and then add to the pot with the vegetables.
• Add the wine, the chopped tomatoes, and the bay leaf.
• Bring to the boil, then reduce to a simmer and cook for about 3 hours.
• Serve with mashed potatoes, and a leafy green vegetable.