Showing posts with label Summer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Summer. Show all posts

Apple season – Low-sugar Apple Jam and all the other ways we used up our (hundreds of) cooking apples


Part of the reason I didn’t write much on here towards the end of last year was because I got hung up on a blog I was writing about cooking apples. We had a bumper crop and found so many ways to use them up, I just couldn’t find the time to write it all down. It’s far too late now, of course, but in anticipation of more apples next year, here goes.

Over the last couple of years I’ve made jars and jars of chutney using various recipes such as Beryl Wood’s simple apple and walnut recipe and my favourite, Alys Fowler’s green tomato chutney. But I still have plenty of jars in the cupboard, so this time around we were on the hunt for alternative ways to use up our glut. I don't know the variety of apples growing on our tree. I've checked against online identification charts and there are so many varieties growing in the UK, it could be anything. If anyone can identify them I'd love to know.


The first recipe we tried out, which worked brilliantly with the early windfalls, was Bircher muesli. I must confess that Seb made most of the muesli, diligently peeling and grating apples every other night to make enough muesli for the next few mornings. And it’s delicious. There’s not much to it – simply grate some cooking apples into a bowl, mix with porridge oats and yoghurt and leave overnight to soften. You can add all sorts of other ingredients to mix it up – we added raisins with the apples, banana slices and extra yoghurt in the morning. It makes a really simple but delicious summer breakfast, plus we were making our own yoghurt (more of that in another post), so all in all it worked out as a really cheap, healthy breakfast.

I’ve described in another post how Seb made our apple compote. This is still going strong as we froze a lot of it and it’s great for topping yoghurt for dessert, for porridge and muesli, and for adding to savoury meals that need a hit of something sour and sweet, like my scallop galettes. It’s super simple – just peel, core and chop a few apples and cook down in a pan with a sprinkling of sugar for a few minutes until the apples are soft. Easy as that and a great one for children because there’s plenty of fruit with only a small amount of sugar (although you can heap the sugar in if that’s your preference).

An unexpected use I found for some of the grottier apples was for sourdough starter. Between holidays and work I lost a couple of starters this year and had to start again from scratch. I usually use flour and water and feed for a few days until my starter comes to life, but this time I added a grated apple to the mix and the starter was starting to bubble a day later. It’s a much faster method than just waiting for a starter to get going by itself and it saved me plenty of flour. I know you can use raisins and various other fruit for this, so grab whatever you have to hand. It really does work.


But by far the best use of our apples last year was for Apple Jam. Particularly in the early part of the season, there’s so much pectin in the apples that they turn to jam with barely any boiling, so we often had sweet, tasty jam within 10 minutes of adding it to the pot. Later in the season it took a little longer for the jam to set, but not as long as it would do for other fruit. I’m at a loss as to why the shops aren’t full of apple jam; it was that easy and made a sweet, tasty jam that’s delicious spread on wholemeal bread with a slick of butter.

We also experimented with sugar content and found that the pound for pound, or sometimes three-quarters sugar to apples, ratios preferred by traditionalists really isn’t necessary. The sugar keeps the jam from spoiling, but as long as we sterilised our jars properly and kept them in the fridge once opened, they kept perfectly well. We still have lots of jars sitting in the cupboard waiting to be opened that haven't spoiled at all.

To sterilise your jars, wash them in hot soapy water and leave to drain dry, or run them through a hot dishwasher cycle, or fill with boiling hot water, or place in a hot oven for 10 minutes. Make sure you sterilise the lids and spoons, too.

Here’s our recipe.

Low-sugar Apple Jam

cooking apples, peeled, cored and chopped
preserving sugar

You will need
sterilised jars

Weigh the prepared apples and put them in a pan over a medium heat with a third of the weight of sugar (e.g. 600g apples would need 200g sugar). You can add a few cloves at this point, but we didn’t bother. (I think the cloves counter the sweetness in traditional recipes, but with the reduced sugar this wasn’t a problem for us.)

Cook down until soft and mushy, stirring often. This took anything from 5 to 15 minutes, although traditionally you would cook the apples for an hour.

Transfer to sterilised jars, seal and leave to cool.



Beryl Wood’s apple and walnut chutney recipe can be found in Let’s Preserve It, published by Square Peg.
Alys Fowler’s green tomato chutney recipe can be found in My Edible Garden, published by BBC Books.


Cheap and Cheerful Tomato Crumble


At the end of our holiday in Brittany we spent a few days in Laval with Seb’s good friends, Thomas and Laeticia. We’ve stayed with them a few times now and I love their home. Laeticia has a colourful Lavallois family history; she comes from a family of seed growers from the town and inherited the family home via a priest uncle who passed on the modest payment for the property to his congregation.

It’s a sprawling house above an opticians near the city centre, with a walled kitchen garden and rickety old shed out back. Having studied catering and worked in restaurants, both changed careers in their late-twenties to become carers – she for young people with learning disabilities, he for psychiatric patients at the hospital – so they weren’t rolling in cash when they took on the old building, but I love what they’ve done with it, scrubbing back the wooden floors and giving the whole place a good lick of primary coloured paint.

Not only did they inherit the house, but also the vintage family furniture. I pine for the Formica table relegated to the laundry room and original features like the mid-century taps in the spare room. Plus they have all the memorabilia from the seed-growing years. Their breakfast bar is plastered with old seed packets, which made a handy learning/distraction tool for a hungry toddler learning his vegetables.


In typically French fashion, I’m reminded every time I visit Laval that life is food, and life is love. And food with love is the icing on the cake. Which is great for us because we eat well every time we go there. Thomas was vegetarian for many years, so the pair have an impressive repertoire of cheap but delicious vegetarian food, including the cherry tomato crumble we were treated to on this particular trip.

The tomatoes, of course, came from the garden, carefully collected by Sidney and ourselves, then tipped  unceremoniously over the mud before being painstakingly returned to the basket, one tomato at a time. With all the French sunshine they must have had throughout the summer they were sweet to the point where it could have felt like we were eating a dessert if it weren’t for the balsamic vinegar and cheesy crumble.


It’s such a cheap and tasty dish, I decided to make it again at home. I used plum tomatoes because I couldn’t resist them at the market, but they also made a slightly more savoury pudding, which I liked. I also added fresh thyme from the garden – again, to temper the sweetness of the tomatoes – and swapped white flour for wholemeal.



Here’s my recipe:

Cheap and Cheerful Tomato Crumble

Serves 4

1kg ripe tomatoes, chopped into big chunks (halved if cherry)
500g shallots, peeled and quartered
2 tbsp balsamic vinegar
a few sprigs of thyme, leaves separated
150g wholemeal flour
100g butter, cubed
75g Parmesan, grated
75g goats’ cheese, sliced
extra-virgin olive oil
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 150°C/gas 2.

Scatter the chopped tomatoes and shallots over the base of a casserole or baking dish and toss with the balsamic vinegar and half the thyme leaves. Season to taste (I just add pepper and let the Parmesan in the crumble provide the saltiness) and bake for 1 hour. Take the dish out of the oven and turn up the heat to 220°C/gas 7.

Rub together the flour, butter and half the grated Parmesan with your fingers until you have a breadcrumb consistency. Scatter over the cooked tomatoes and onions and lay the slices of goats’ cheese over the top. Scatter over the remaining thyme leaves and Parmesan. Bake for a further 30 minutes, until the top is crispy and golden brown.


Serve with something neutral like fresh salad leaves and green peas to balance the richness of the crumble.


Nettle pesto fresh from the garden and Crunchy Pesto-topped Salmon with Wholewheat Pesto Spaghetti and Wilted Chard



Nettles keep popping up in-between the chard and radishes in our raised bed, so I thought I’d put them to good use. I know it’s easy to make nettle soup, but I was in the mood for something a bit gutsier, so I made nettle pesto.

Nettles are extremely nutritious and particularly rich in vitamin C, iron, calcium, magnesium and nitrogen. They taste a bit like spinach and give a deeper, earthier flavour than traditional basil pesto.

You need to blanch nettles before eating to eliminate the stinging chemicals. The usual advice is to use the tips of fresh spring nettles, before they become tough and flower, at which point they can do serious damage to your urinary tract, so stay away. Nettles are also really important for wildlife, especially butterflies as caterpillars feed on them, and ladybirds, which lay their eggs on them, so it’s good to leave a few nettles alone if they’re doing no harm in a corner of the garden or on your allotment.


 I picked summer nettles, but they were still young, so perfectly good for eating, and I don’t really want a raised bed full of nettle plants. One thing’s for sure – you need to wear thick gardening gloves or a good pair of marigolds to do the picking.

I like the aromatic kick of basil with white spaghetti, but I think nettle pesto goes really well with wholewheat pasta and stands up better to the stronger flavours of meat and fish. I used mine as a simple spaghetti sauce and also to top some beautiful, oily salmon. Delicious.

For the nettle pesto
50g young nettles
50g Parmesan
10 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
50g ground almonds
4 garlic cloves
juice of 1 lemon
salt and pepper

For the salmon
4 salmon fillets (I buy MSC-certified)
4 tbsp stale breadcrumbs (I use up old wholemeal sourdough)
salt and pepper

wholewheat spaghetti, to serve (about 75g per adult serving), plus a few pitted black olives
chard, to serve

Preheat the oven to 200°C/180°C fan/gas 6.

Bring a large pan of water to a rolling boil and cook your pasta according to the instructions on the packet.

Bring a small pan of water to the boil and blanch your nettles for 1 minute. Make sure you wear your gloves when you put them in the pan. Have a bowl of iced water ready and when your minute’s up, plunge the nettles into the cold water to stop them cooking. Try to hold on to some of your cooking water. Drain the nettles thoroughly. You might need to squeeze out the excess water, but you can do this with your fingers now as they won’t sting.

Tip your chard into the boiling water you’ve saved from the nettles, put the lid on and steam until wilted and soft.

To make the pesto simply whizz up the cooked nettles with all the other ingredients in a food-processor and season to taste.

To make the crunchy salmon, top each fillet with 1 tbsp of pesto, 1 tbsp breadcrumbs, and season. Bake for 10–12 minutes until just cooked through. I didn't salt Sidney’s fillet and I left it in the oven for a few minutes longer, just to be on the safe side.

Stir the rest of the pesto through the cooked spaghetti with a few chopped black olives. Serve all the elements separately, or do it the proper way and flake the fish, chop the chard and mix it all up together, which is actually what I did for Sidney.


Ruby's Lemon and Basil Tart



We were invited to a friend’s barbecue on one of the hottest days of the year. The hosts needed a dessert so I searched through my cookbooks for something suitably summery. I settled on Ruby Tandoh’s Lemon and Basil Tart, from her cookbook Crumb.


If you don’t have Tandoh’s book and you’re interested in baking, I recommend it. She started out on the Great British Bake Off, but was quickly snapped up by the Guardian to write a column for their Saturday Cook supplement. She competed on Bake Off while studying for her degree in philosophy and art history, for which she received a first. The lady is obviously smart and she brings all her intelligence to what is essentially a baking bible covering cakes, bread, sweet dough, biscuits, puddings, desserts, pies, tarts and pastries, with thorough advice on everything from perfect whisking to all the different bread flours. It’s thoughtful, considered, beautifully designed and very pretty.

So, I set aside the morning to bake the tart. It might not have been the best day to attempt shortcrust pastry, and it took a lot longer than expected – I ended up using the freezer to chill the pastry as the fridge just wasn’t cutting it – but I got there in the end and the result was a refreshing, gooey lemon tart with a hint of basil and a rich, crumbly pastry.



And I’m glad I made the effort. One of the barbecue hosts is a budding chef with a dream to open a deli, and she was assisted by a former chef at Heston Blumenthal’s pub, The Crown at Bray (the jerk chicken he prepared was the best I’ve tasted – and I live in Brixton). So my (Ruby’s) tart had some big acts to follow, but everyone loved it. It was the perfect dessert for a hot summer’s day.

Here’s how I made it.

Serves 8 (it’s pretty rich so mine probably served twice that many)

For the pastry:
175g plain flour
90g butter, firm but not cold (I only had salted in the fridge, if you use unsalted add a pinch of salt)
1 tbsp caster sugar
1 large egg yolk
1 tbsp milk

For the filling:
200ml double cream
a few basil leaves
4 large eggs
125g caster sugar
zest and juice of 5 small lemons (125ml juice)

First rub together the flour and butter until you have fine breadcrumbs, then add the sugar (and salt, if using).




Beat the egg yolk with the milk and slowly add it to the flour mixture. Bring the dough together (I needed an extra teaspoon of milk, probably because it was such a hot day), flatten it into a disc and wrap it in cling film. Refrigerate for 30 minutes (I needed to put mine in the freezer for 15 minutes afterwards).



Put the cream and basil leaves into a pan over a medium heat and bring to
a boil, then immediately take it off the heat and leave it to infuse.

Roll out the chilled pastry and line a tart dish, with a small overhang. Trim it back and press the pastry up the flutes of the dish so that it’s slightly higher than the rim (this allows for any shrinkage while it’s baking). My pastry was pretty crumbly so I patched up a couple of thin spots with the excess pastry, then it went back in the freezer for 15 minutes.

Line your pastry case with baking paper and beans and blind bake for 15 minutes at 200°C/180°C fan/gas 6, then removed the paper and beans and cook for another 5 minutes. (Mine needed an extra 5 minutes.) Take the tart out of the oven and reduce the heat to 150°C/130°C fan/gas 2. My pastry had cracked a little at the edges so I used a little more of the excess pastry to patch it up again.



Lightly whisk the eggs and beat in the sugar. Strain the cream into the mixture and discard the basil leaves. Add the lemon zest and juice and whisk to combine. Pour the mixture into the tart case (set it on the oven shelf halfway through and pour the last of the mixture in while it’s stable in the oven, that way you lessen the risk of spilling it) and bake for 25–30 minutes (again, mine needed an extra 5 minutes), until the edges of the filling are firm but the centre wobbles (it will firm up as it cools).


Ruby tweets @rubytandoh. Crumb is published by Chatto & Windus.

Strawberry Scones


Last week I made butter and was left with a little buttermilk. We were heading down to Camber Sands for a good old British weekend by the sea with a friend and her girls, so I decided to make scones to take with us.

I also had half a punnet of strawberries that were about to turn to mush, so I figured strawberry scones were the way to go. When I make scones I always turn to my trusty Little Book of Scones. I should confess that I edited this book back in the day, but I’ve made several of the recipes and they are just delicious, so it’s still a book I keep handy on my shelf.


I used the basic part of the Raspberry Scones with Vanilla and Lychee recipe and just replaced the raspberries with strawberries. I didn’t go to the trouble of making a cream to go with it, but the one in the book sounds incredible so I’m definitely going to try it one day. To make it you add caster sugar and vanilla extract to whipped cream and then fold in chopped lychees. I would never have thought of putting lychees and raspberry together, but the authors are pretty creative cooks and excellent judges of flavour, so I trust their judgement.

Scones are so quick and simple to make, they’re really no bother at all – particularly handy when you want to bake something quick to satisfy hungry little people. And everyone’s happy when you turn up with a tin full of fresh scones and a packet of home-made butter.


Here’s how I made them.

Strawberry Scones

450g self-raising flour
a pinch of salt
175g butter, cubed
75g golden caster sugar
1 tsp custard powder
90g strawberries
1 heaped tsp baking powder
2 eggs
75ml buttermilk

Preheat the oven to 190°C/gas 5.

Put the flour, salt and butter in a bowl and rub together until you have a fine breadcrumb texture. Add the sugar, custard powder, strawberries and baking powder and stir it all together.


Crack the eggs into a bowl and pour in the buttermilk. Whisk until the mixture is light bubbly and then pour the mixture into the bowl with the flour and strawberries. Fold everything together until just combined and then bring it all together with your hands. You’ll find it starts off feeling dry and then gets really wet as the strawberries release their liquid.


Tip the dough onto a lightly floured work surface and knead very gently until smooth.

Roll out the dough to about an inch thick and use a small cutter or glass to punch out scones. I made mine pretty small – about 2 inches wide. Because the dough is wet it’s harder for larger scones to rise. If you find they’re sticking to the cutter, dip it in flour before you punch out each scone and you’ll find it much easier.


Bake for about 20 minutes and leave to cool on a wire rack. 


Serve with lashings of cream and jam or warm from the oven with a good spread of butter and a hot cup of tea.

The Little Book of Scones by Grace Hall and Liam D'Arcy is published by Square Peg.