on grief and birthday's plus nigel slater's chocolate almond cake

lighting candles on the cake

it was o's birthday today and i was in two minds about birthday cake. of course there can be no birthday without cake but then there are no rules on bereavement. when is it okay to celebrate? and what exactly is celebration? of course religion's prescribe periods of mourning but then in o's words, his grand father put a period on an official mourning at three days. i am no fool to believe that prescriptions of time periods will determine the passing away of a loved one. grief isn't linear, it is interspersed with sadness and the celebration of happy memories too. after all, homer was right when he said that 'life and death are balanced on the edge of a razor'. 

the chocolate diary: martel chocolaterie geneva

it is half past midnight and after a frustrated google search for the website of martel chocolatier in geneva, i have given up. i don't get why, in this day and age the chocolatier does not have a website. anyway... the reason why i have been googling is because aside from the fact that their chocolates are excellent, i really want to know the name of one particular truffle that i just can't work out the filling for. my boss bought me the chocolates as a thank you for work done on our division's ministerial meeting. i had wrapped it up carefully and hidden it for a rainy day.

i opened it up today as i was in need of comfort after a stressful few weeks of being unwell. in addition o has had to fly out in emergency as his grand father is very unwell. so here i am past midnight, sitting on my couch with a still recovering foot eating seriously good chocolate. the orange peel in dark chocolate has all the zest of an orange made rich with a dark chocolate covering. the peel itself is surprisingly moist, as if it had been soaked and candied. there is an rather irregular and craggy truffle which is hard to bite but which gives way to a light and feathery chocolate mousse. it is basically three tiered with the crispy and crunch praline enclosing a soft centre but is itself dipped in chocolate ( i much preferred the dark to the milk). there was also a small pyramid shaped chocolate whose square tip was some kind of a crystallised fruit jelly. under the chocolate was a centre of pate de fruit with a very subtle flavour. the stars of the show were the dark chocolate ganache and a rectangle of chocolate with dull gold lines on its surface. i really want to know what the filling for this is as it had tones of passionfruit and an end note of sea salt with a hint of berry. 

sigh. 

this was chocolate heaven. 

               i am saving some for another rainy day.         

                             and i hoping that either i will be making a trip to geneva soon or someone will bring me another box.

tea & scones

scones with clotted cream and strawberry preserve

s&r came over for tea to thirty-two today. i had wanted to bake a small cake and make it somewhat of a birthday tea as it was s' birthday last week. but a rather acute case of tendinitis meant i couldn't really do much more than make sandwiches and scones (a fair bit of which s helped with) including buying the clotted cream and cream of tartar. i used my mum's foolproof recipe which is very very close to national trust recipe that felicity cloake decided was the best in her quest on 'how to make the perfect scone'.  so here is the recipe my mum passed down after scoffing at me for wanting to try delia's version which includes an egg. i was told in no uncertain terms that adding an egg to my scone mix would most definitely mean i am not making a british classic. 

barley pilaf with mushrooms and dill

i love cooking different kinds of grains because to me, it is about experiencing different textures and flavours. i also love the process of watching how liquid transforms the grains swelling their slim shapes. rice lengthens and fluffs up but something like barley or farrow or israeli cous cous expand through the centre of their bellies, shortening and growing roundish in shape. i especially love farrow and spelt and wheat-berries. cous-cous and bulghur are common favourites and i often make them as a side to chick pea stew or roast chicken. so when i saw hugh-fearnley whittingstall's pearl barley pilaf with mushrooms and dill i knew i had to make it.

fearnley-whittingstall describes his recipe as a pilaf with the texture of a risotto. i was a bit confused about that description partly because pearl barley is quite a robust grain. it doesn't soften the way rice does and it most certainly isn't starchy which is the element that brings together the fats and the stock in risotto to give a lovely creamy texture. so here are my notes of the making of the barley pilaf with mushrooms and dill. 

it takes about an hour or so to get the pilaf cooked and it is a lot more forgiving than a risotto purely because it needs less attending too. barley takes its good time to give way to tenderness and i personally found that it was easier to cook it by including all of the stock, bringing it to a rolling boil and then letting it simmer. this was because i realised after half an hour through cooking that it would just save me trouble. i would also make sure to follow the advice on having a mixture of fresh and cultivated mushrooms. i unfortunately had to make do without the porcini as i had none but i can see how the porcini broth would add a stronger flavour. i would also reduce the creme fraiche as the pilaf itself is quite rich with the mushrooms and the butter. but that i suppose is a personal preference. 

i loved making it as much as o and i loved eating it. this is serious winter comfort food. it is very hearty, very moreish and very filling. the mushrooms add a meatiness, the creme fraiche a slight sharpness and the dill, aside from adding some brightness also adds texture. 

if you likely barley, or would like to try a fusion pilaf made on the lines of a risotto, this is a recipe for you to try out.

wholemeal french toast with orange & apricot brandy syrup

i made french toast today, mostly because i was nostalgic and missing home. my mum used to make us french toast on the weekends. slices of dawn bread ( i hadn't discovered wholemeal then) soaked briefly in a mixture of eggs whisked with milk and a bit of sugar. she'd fry it in her non-stick pan that she had reserved specifically for 'our' frying. the cook didn't get to use non-stick pans simply because he couldn't grasp that metal spoons scratch away the teflon. she was generous with the butter and would let the toast shallow fry until the edges would go a dark brown and caramelise slightly. i woke up dreaming the taste of mum's french toast and decided to make my own.

the problem is though, that i rarely ever have white bread around. what would have been really nice is a creamy coloured buttery brioche but neither o nor i were inclined to go buy some. so wholemeal bread it had to be. i was pretty secure in my ability to jazz up wholemeal bread. and jazz it up i did.

here is what you will need to make the french toast - two eggs, a hundred ml of milk, a couple of drops of vanilla and a tablespoon of caster sugar. whisk all of them together. slice the bread very thick and soak briefly in the egg mixture on both sides. meanwhile heat a pan with a walnut sized knob of butter. slide in the toast when the butter froths slightly. do watch the heat as butter burns very quickly. let the toast fry for at least three to four minutes or until the edges are deep brown and caramelising. flip over to the other side to do the same.

meanwhile in another small sauce pan put in the juice of one orange, some orange zest, two tablespoons of sugar and a shot glass full of apricot brandy (or contrieau). bring to a boil and simmer till it thickens slightly. 

to serve, put the french toast on a plate, drizzle liberally with the orange and apricot brandy syrup and dust with icing sugar. i have to say that the wholemeal toast added nuttiness and a rather robust texture which white toast doesn't. and the orange and zest added a freshness and welcome sharpness.