Tag Archives: recipe

Lord Woolton Pie

Although it has come down in the world since 1940, being just plain Woolton Pie today, it is an icon of WW2, having been mentioned in Dad’s Army, and by many elderly relatives, though not with any great affection.

Originally, having being developed by Francois Latry ((1889-1966), the head chef of the Savoy Hotel in London from 1919-42, it was on the menu as Lord Woolton Pie, named after the Minister of Food, whom was responsible for rationing. He is chiefly remembered for his Lord Woolton Pie, though he did assist Woolton in developing a range of dishes.

He is pictured on a website preparing a bear for roasting in 1921 when Bear Ham was on the menu, garnished with chestnuts. it was on the menu for Christmas Dinner at the Savoy and had not been eaten since the days of Henry VIII. I’m surprised he isn’t better known for this but he papers seem to have taken it in their stride and expressed neither horror nor surprise. . In answer to your first question, I haven’t a clue where he sourced his bears. To answer you second question, yes, bear meat is generally considered quite palatable, though can be a bit of a lottery depending on what it has been eating. This website gives you further details and has links to cooking mountain lions and 12 foot alligators.

It first came to public notice in April 1941, when The Times published the recipe and described it as “good”, “economical” and “wholesome”.

However, they later said:  “When Woolton pie was being forced on somewhat reluctant tables, Lord Woolton performed a valuable service by submitting to the flashlight camera at public luncheons while eating, with every sign of enjoyment, the dish named after him.”

I imagine it would be tricky to tell people to eat Woolton Pie whilst eating something else.

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Personally, I don’t have a problem with it as it’s more or less the vegetable stew I make every week, and the vegetable base for the corned beef hash recipe I developed. I just cover it with a crust.

My sister gave it the seal of approval, though she is vegetarian and is used to this sort of thing. Julia was less enthusiastic as she can’t see why it needs a crust when we normally have it with dumplings.

The “original” recipe is available on The 1940’s Experiment, which has many other interesting recipes and leaflets. I used a stock cube and Henderson’s relish instead of Marmite and a mix of parsnip and swede (rutabaga) to prevent excessive sweetness. I also missed out the parley because I forgot to order it, and used ready rolled pastry because I am lazy.

I probably won’t make it again as it’s easier to make vegetable stew with dumplings, but it was perfectly acceptable and I’d be happy to eat it again if someone cooked it for me.

It is served with gravy. We had spiced red cabbage (frozen and forgotten at Christmas) and roasted brussels with the left over chestnuts from the Mushroom & Chestnut Pie, though the original seems to have been served on its own.

 

 

 

 

 

The Pie Report

The pie on the website

The recipe I based the pie on was a Hairy Biker’s recipe called Vegetarian Chestnut and Mushroom Pie. It is available here on the BBC website. I followed the recipe almost to the letter, but substituted white wine for the marsala (it had been hanging round since Christmas) and used English mustard instead of Dijon. I always like to follow the recipe first time round, then you know if i works or not. It did. Everyone liked it and when I discussed making it simpler and cheaper Julia has suggested trying it without chestnuts but keeping the rest of it the same. Time for a costing and an evaluation.

The filling

The dried mushrooms cost £100 a kilo, which sounds a lot. However, the  recipe only calls for 15g, which is £1.50. I used fewer chestnuts than recommended but there will still plenty and I have enough to sir-fry some with brussels at the end of the week. Call that £1.50 too. Wine? We usually have something around that will do, so by the time you add pastry (60p), leeks and mushrooms you have a pie which cost us around £5 and served three.

A “good” supermarket pie will cost about £4 and serve two, and won’t be a patch on this one, so I’m going to stop worrying about cost.

My version, showing contents

I still need to try a cheaper version as an alternative for when I want something and don’t have dried mushrooms and chestnuts in the cupboard but I’m not going to mess around just to reduce costs.

Cocaine costs about £30,000 a kilo (according to a website I found whilst researching prices) and Chinese meals, even when divided into two in a frugal manner, still cost more than this pie so I really need to take a look at my attitude to food and life in conjunction with the cost of pies. I don’t, in case you are wondering, advocate cocaine, or any illegal drug, as a substitute for a good wholesome pie, but just thought (having been horrified by the cost of dried mushrooms per kilo) that it would make an interesting comparison.

Once again my vision is not quite borne out by the photo

Rhino Horn is about £44,500 per kilo in China and has no proven scientific value, in case you were wondering how it compared.

The internet is a wonderful thing, as I have said before. A very tasty pie recipe, a quick look at illicit drug prices and an overview of rhino poaching countermeasures – where else can you get all that? Even modern TV doesn’t have that variety to offer within 20 minutes.

I am going to resist putting “”cocaine” and “rhino horn” in the tags, as I don’t want to attract unwanted attention.

The pie before cutting

 

A Return to Soda Bread

Note poor attempt at cross

This morning I rose at 6.30, decided it was too early, went back to bed  and eventually emerged at 7.30. I then squandered my early start by going through an auction catalogue online. Then I trotted off for my secret mission. I planned to wake Julia by wafting the scent of freshly baked bread through the house. In fact, the clinking of kitchen implements woke her early and she pottered down to see if the er was any tea going. This burst the bubble of my planned surprised and slightly soured the the tone when she realised there was no tea.

Imagine a grumpy bear, roused from hibernation early, and wanting tea. It is,  admit, a slightly confused metaphor. But it is an accurate description of the atmosphere in the kitchen – double disappointment with just a hint of fury.

So I made tea and we had cereal. The bread baked. It was only soda bread, because I haven’t actually baked for something like nine years. There was a programme on TV last night, where soda bread was cooked, and my ambition was rekindled.

For lunch we had bread and cheese and pickles and then Julia went to work in the cafe.

The recipe actually stipulated half white and half wholemeal flour but I used cheap plain white flour, because that was what we had. I also squeezed lemon juice into milk to produce a substitute for buttermilk. I would have used yoghurt and milk, but we have had all the yoghurt this week. Apart from that and reducing the salt I didn’t alter the recipe at all. In other words, the only thing that followed the recipe was the half spoonful of bicarb. Amazingly, it was one of my better attempts, as I’ve never quite got the hang of soda bread.

Poor photograph, which flatters the bread

There were a few problems along the way. I added 90% of the milk and it wasn’t enough so I tipped the erst in and produced a very wet and sticky dough which stuck to my fingers. I used to be able to produce dough with a light touch and rarely get it stuck to me, but I have lost the knack. It must have looked like a kid trying to bake, apart from the lack of joy. I hate it when it sticks. Eventually, after shaking more flour in, and getting doughy fingerprints on the flour bag, I ended up with quite a wet dough, but was able to manage it, even though the cross in the top wasn’t very distinct. I hope the fairies were able to get out despite this poor attempt.

It tool longer to bake than suggested and, I confess, was a bit dense towards the bottom. Apart from that it wasn’t too bad and it went well with cheese and pickles. I have now ordered buttermilk with next week’s groceries and will be baking again next week. Soda bread is good because it is quick and simple, but above all, it doesn’t hurt my fingers. A loaf taking a lot of of kneading is still beyond me, though if I get the bug again I may buy a food mixer to do he hard work.

Compared to the excitement of baking, nothing much happened for the rest for the day. Next week I am going to try cheese and onion soda bread.

Ready to test

 

Charred Red Pepper Dip

First char your pepper. I used the garden flamethrower again and it did a better job than it did on the aubergine last week.

I shoved it in the blender and added the half carton of soft cheese left over from the Smoked Mackerel Pate. It looked a bit watery as it went in. With hindsight I should have taken it as a warning. I may have said that before.

I think I’ve also said I will look at recipes instead of working from memory. I tried but I couldn’t find the one I wanted, and as I had the soft cheese ready I just blundered ahead.

Add some garlic and smoked paprika and blitz it. Mutter. Add bread. Add more bread. When it looks firmish taste and add black pepper. It needed seasoning but I didn’t want to add lime juice as it was already sloppy. Even with the bread it was not exactly firm so I drained it in a sieve and managed to produce something with a consistency like a soft humous. I note from my spellchecker that the Americans spell humous differently too. You live and learn.

Charred Red Pepper Dip

Charred Red Pepper Dip

It was just about firm enough to be  acceptable and tasted OK. It needs some work but we ate it all so it can’t have been too bad. The photograph makes it look like something from a post-mortem examination but in natural light it lacked that spongy, moist lung-like quality.

We had it with green leaves, tomatoes, crackers and falafels. I’m going to try making my own falafels. The spellchecker doesn’t like that either. Falafel, according to the Concise Oxford Dictionary, is a variation of felafel. Google prefers falafel. The spellchecker doesn’t like either.

Before I do that I’m going to make sure I have all the ingredients and a recipe.

Flowers - detail

Flowers – detail

I thought I’d have another crack at the flowers. There’s not much else to photograph when you stay inside.

Looks like a curry…

If it looks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, we have at least to consider the possibility that we have a small aquatic bird of the family Anatidae on our hands.

Douglas Adams,  Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency

Most people are familiar with the Duck Test. but how many people can tell the difference between a stew and a curry?

For instance, I cooked a spicy dish of beef and vegetables tonight, what was it?  I ate it and I’m not sure.

It included carrot, sweet potato, parsnip, onions, mushrooms, ginger, chillies and lentils. With the exception of parsnip I’ve had them all in curries before – either from Indian or Chinese restaurants.

So was it a curry?

The ingredients don’t seem to be a reliable indicator. You can make curry without using curry powder. You can serve either dish with a variety of breads and rice, though the jury is out regarding potatoes.

After giving it an evening of thought, and discussing the nuances of potato cuisine, we’ve come up with the following guidelines (which probably don’t apply outside the UK).

If you serve it with dumplings it’s a stew.

If you use a recipe (no matter how vaguely remembered) it’s probably a curry.

If you use the random ingredients you happen to have to hand, it’s probably a stew.

As a result of this discussion I’ve also identified  a possible gap in the market for a takeaway stew restaurant, but that’s a discussion for another day.

 

 

 

Making Peppermint Creams

As part of my drive to try new recipes and skills, I made Peppermint Creams on Monday. They didn’t set after two hours in the fridge (as the recipe suggested) so I left them in until Wednesday afternoon, by which time they needed chipping off the plate.

They seemed to have set, though I was concerned that they might soften up once they were out of the fridge. I had to keep testing them on a regular basis to see how they went.  It’s a tough job but someone has to do it, and attention to detail is important.

It’s been a bit of  a learning curve. (I originally wrote “curse” there by accident, which was also pretty close to the truth).

First I learned that the mixing of peppermint creams acts as a magnet, attracting a couple of unwanted bits of shortbread from the neighbouring workstation and incorporating them into the mix in a brown spotty sort of way. It wasn’t attractive.

Next, as I kneaded the mix, (and it takes a bit of doing when the only liquid is an egg white, spoonful of flavouring and  the juice of half a lemon), I noticed it was turning blue. It’s slightly better than brown, but it’s still not what I really wanted. When I stopped to think about it I deduced that the mixture was lifting the blue dye from the checked table cover.

Third bit of learning – dry them on baking parchment, not direct onto the plate.

And four – when photographing them it might be a good idea to brush them down first and get all the debris off them (see top picture).

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Cutting out – the shapes – note coloured spots!

The good news is that they taste good. They are quite strong and were referred to as “grown-up” peppermint creams by one of the testers, which, in turn, means that most of the group don;t like them (so more for me!)

The bad news is that I’m going to have to test the recipe again due to setting and colouring problems.

But the other good news is that I will have to eat more to test them.

It truly is an ill wind that blows no good. 🙂