In which I face failure with a remarkable lack of grace.

http://www.foyles.co.uk/Public/Biblio/Detail.aspx?blogId=1065

In which I make Marshmallow Teacakes to rival Tunnock's

http://www.foyles.co.uk/Public/Biblio/Detail.aspx?blogId=1034

The French would probably have something to say about it, but Croissant avec Fry-Up is very good.

Not quite the Best Sandwich Ever

I'd never heard of a Shooter's Sandwich until I read about it here - two steaks, a pile of mushrooms and shallots, a good dollop of mustard and horseradish, all stuffed inside a loaf and squashed under weights overnight - but I loved the idea of a) a stuffed loaf, with all its delicious/disgusting Elvisish connotations, and b) a sandwich that has to be prepared 24 hours in advance. If it requires that much effort it really must be the Best Sandwich Ever.

And it was ... ok. It looks beautiful and cutting into it is an extremely satisfying experience. And it is delicious - just a bit on the soggy side. Is it meant to be that way? I don't imagine it's possible to cook mushrooms until all the moisture is gone, and the juices from the steak are always going to seap into the bread, but a cold, soggy crust just isn't that nice. The title of Best Sandwich Ever is still up for grabs.

A Simple Supper

Nigel Slater is always banging on about pea and broad bean salads. Generally, I skip these bits of his cookbooks and move on to the bits where he's roasting joints of meat, slathering stuff in cream, etc, but after a week of eating far too many delicious-but-bowel-cancer-inducing pork products, I thought I'd give it a go. It turns out he's on to something. A salad of freshly podded peas, broad beans, pea shoots and shavings of raw courgette, a few fresh mint and parsley leaves, dressed with a simple lemon and oil dressing and topped off with some crumbly, creamy goats' cheese. Delicious. And it involves popping broad beans from their little grey skins, which makes me deliriously happy. Win-win.

Banoffee, King of Pies

Yesterday, I put an end to a lengthy Banoffee drought. When I first dicovered how easy they are to make, I was on several a month - not a healthy way to live, but definitely a delicious one. The combination of being simple to make and UNBELIEVABLY DELICIOUS is a dangerous one, but who cares? Here's my way of doing things:

Make a biscuit crumb base. I use dark chocolate Hob-Nobs. Crush them, mix with melted butter and pack into the bottom of a flan tin (ideally with removable sides). Put it in the fridge to harden up.

The next layer is the toffee. This process seemed utterly magical to me when I first did it, but it's probably very simple. Get a can of condensed milk, put it unopened in a big pan of boiling water, cover and leave it simmering for two hours. THAT'S IT. I don't understand how but when you open it, it will have turned into unbelievably tasty toffee-like-stuff. Oh, also, apparently this process is extremely dangerous and MAY RESULT IN DEATH. I'm not sure that this has ever actually happened, but every recipe I've read for Banoffee pie has come with this warning, so I thought I better pass it on. I think if you make sure the pan doesn't boil dry and open the tin at arm's length, you should probably survive the process. Assuming you have, spread the toffee over the biscuit base.

Layer slices of banana on top of the toffee, then whipped cream on top of that.

And that's it. There's lots of variations - in fact, the place where it was invented goes for a shortcrust pastry base rather than biscuit - but the above will make a pretty delicious pie. It tastes even better after the layers have been mingling together for a couple of days, so try not to eat it all in one sitting.

Scotland's for me

I would like to preface the following by saying that I love Scotland. It's pretty much my favourite place on Earth, and so the last thing I would want to do is reinforce any negative stereotypes you may harbour against that great nation.

However. While spending last weekend in Fife (attending Fence's lovely Homegame festival), not only did I witness my first drunken, bloody fistfight and taste my first lager top (delicious), I also ate my own bodyweight in pastry-based goods and hastened the heart attack which is creeping slowly but inexorably closer with every pie that passes my lips. But who cares about that when it's all so very tasty? First, there was the obligatory fish supper from the Anstruther Fish Bar: fresh fish caught by local fishermen in a crisp, delicious batter washed down with a can of Irn Bru from what is officially one of the country's best chipshops is a treat which no one should deny themselves.

Then there's Fisher and Donaldson. Oh my. If I were to single out one thing that Scotland does better than anyone else, it would have to be their bakeries. Sure, some people might argue in favour of the French on this point, and perhaps they'd have a fairly strong case, but it certainly wasn't the French who realised the potential of encasing macaroni cheese in shortcrust pastry. And if, in some bizarre apocalyptic scenario which I can't quite imagine the details of right now, I was forced on pain of death to eat only one type of sweet baked good for the rest of my existence, I would have no trouble at all settling on Fisher and Donaldson's fudge doughnuts. That is, a doughnut, filled with vanilla custard, and topped with fudge icing. Gosh. I have seen various versions of this in Scottish bakeries, but none seem as soft or as fresh or as overwhelmingly more-ish as Fisher and Donaldson's. Definitely worth making a detour for if you are ever in the area (and by "the area", I mean Scotland or its vicinity.)