Spiced Apple and Rye Hand Pies

I woke to the sound of a kookaburra’s call a few mornings ago. The sentinel of his flock perhaps, a call to arms to indicate the first slivers of light appearing through the trees on the horizon. It always goes quiet after his call. It’s a long string of distinctive caws increasing in volume and energy to a final crescendo before silence falls. I imagine his fellow flock members stirring in their eucalypt branches sandy eyes blinking open winged feathers ruffling as they stretch and meet the day as he nods off from the night shift keeping watch. Is it the same Kookaburra doing this job every morning or do they take turns? Are they even so organised a species? Who knows, it’s these cerebral meanderings that float around my mind while I procrastinate from the inevitability the breaking light heralds. Probably time to ruffle my own feathers and rub the sand from my eyes.

The calls of the morning are quieter at the moment. It’s autumn and we’ve freshly switched off day light saving time. The damp cold stillness that the turn of the season towards winter brings settles over all of us. Nature its own beacon to the shift. Leaves turn all the colours of their own red, orange and gold rainbow, plants slow their growth and animals start their pre hibernation routine fattening up for the coming cold. We humans are similar in a fashion. We become drawn to foods that warm and nourish our bodies and minds. Porridge for breakfast a promise that helps draw the covers back, hot tea at morning teatime to warm from the inside out and stews and soups to comfort and nurture at the end of the day to fill bellies and fuel our bodies to keep us warm.

Not only do we look to warm hearty fair to warm us from the inside out and stoke out internal furnaces we’re also are drawn to particular flavours and their memories evoked by the season. Spices often compliment such meals the warming notes of specific extracts doing the heavy lifting. Be they in that porridge, tea, a stew or slow cook but most particularly in a bake, spices can add complexity and sensation to a dish that adds another dimension and layer to the experience. If you look through my recipe collection you’ll note it’s no secret that I adore cooking with spices. The shift in seasons and my proclivity to lean on them got me to pondering this, procrasitpondering if you will. And it occurs to me that this is not just rooted (see what I did there? Rooted? Ginger, coriander, wasabi) in my love of flavour but also the extra elements their characteristics offer to enhance a meal. Characteristics like sweet, savoury, earthiness, warmth, brightness, freshness amongst others all create a dance between themselves and other ingredients in your cooking. Much in the way music does to a song spices can create a cohesion to all the components of your culinary creations.

And so to the season. As we let go of the warmer weather and flavours like makrut lime, lemongrass, basil and mint amongst other summer flavours we turn to autumnal ones. Interestingly not only do they lend the colours of the season but flavours that settle over us with recollections and experiences whose memories come to life as the flavours erupt on our palettes. Pumpkin, maple, chestnuts, walnuts, mushrooms, apples pears and all those beautiful warming spices like ginger, nutmeg, cinnamon and the like form the foundations of many of our favourite recipes that bridge our journey from hot weather to cold.

Laying in bed listening to the silence around that Kookaburra’s call, the breeze tumbling overnight rainfall droplets from the leaves on which they’d settled knowing it was cold outside I didn’t crave fruit or salad, I craved something baked. I yearned for my home to be filled with aromas of sugar, butter and spice, the cosiness that evokes and the delicious morning tea I would pull from my oven at the end of that fragrant alchemy.

Notes:

I use a blender (vitamix) to make my pastry in this instance. You can follow the same instructions in a food processor. If you have neither or prefer to use your hands employ a traditional method of rubbing butter into the dry ingredients doing the job of the blades, make a well in the centre and add the wet ingredients and bring together with your hands again doing the work the blades would do and give a short simple knead to bring together.

Makes 12 Hands Pies

Ingredients:

125 gm cold butter in small cubes

150 gm plain flour

70 gm rye flour (you can substitute wholemeal wheat flour here if you prefer or even use plain white flour. If using plain white you may find you only need one Tb of the water).

1 scant tsp cardamon ground

20 g/1 Tb caster sugar

1 egg yolk

60 gm sour cream

1-2 Tb ice water

2 large green apples, peeled and cut into thinly sliced chunks

2 Tb brown sugar

½ tsp cinnamon

Pinch of salt extra

An extra egg for brushing pastry beaten with a splash of milk

Demerara sugar to sprinkle

Method:

In a blender or food processor (see above if you have neither) add cubed butter, flours, caster sugar, cardamon and a pinch of salt. Doing this step in this order, butter first then dry ingredients, is important as it integrates the butter and flour more efficiently and therefore reduces the time under mix and the chance of the dough becoming overworked. Pulse the machine a few times until the butter and dry ingredients are integrated in the way they would be if you’d rubbed them together with your fingers. A few lumps of butter is fine and in fact preferable. In a small bowl, beat together the egg yolk and sour cream. Add the wet mixture to the mixture in your blender/processor and pulse a few times again until the mixture has come together mostly. Tip the mixture out onto a bench and use your hands to finish bringing everything together gently. Pat down into a disc, wrap in cling wrap and pop in the fridge to rest for 30 minutes.

Prepare apples and tip into a medium sized bowl. Sprinkle over brown sugar, cinnamon and salt and stir well until sugar is completely coated. Set aside.

Preheat oven to 180c and line a large baking tray with baking paper.

Remove pastry from fridge and roll out to a thickness of 3mm. Cut rolled pastry into rounds. I’ve used a tin lid of 11.5 cms across. To assemble pies, take a round in your hand, holding like a taco shell and brush the edges with the egg wash. Spoon a heaped desert spoonful of apple into the centre and pinch the edges together to seal. It will look like an overgrown dumpling. Continue this until all rounds are stuffed. Line up on tray and brush with egg wash and sprinkle over demerara sugar. Bake for 25-30 mins.

Eat warm or cold, with cream or custard or whatever your autumnal heart desires.

Blueberry and Spiced Frangipane Galette

In the way I spoke about creative block a few weeks ago, this week the creativity was free flowing but the frustration ever strong. I knew what I wanted to create and I knew the basics and mechanics of those elements and was sure it should have worked. Sadly though the frangipane wasn’t set. The flavour was exactly where I wanted it but the texture was all wrong. Falling away from perfect at the outer it was sludgy in the centre and frustratingly oozy. I love Frangipane and have made it many times so you can imagine how annoyed I was. It took me back to my twenties when I was trying all sorts of new cooking techniques and recipes in my own home and my own first small and humble kitchen. With a much narrower skill base but boundless interest and motivation the breadth of things I would try and create was almost as great as the depth of failures. I would have, what amounted, to tantrums almost. Sitting at the table with my then boyfriend (now husband) sullenly eating a meal I could see in my mind’s eye but not taste at the end of my fork, almost annoyed at his fervour for the meal he had been presented with and his lack of acknowledgement of my ‘catastrophe.’ This frustration was most probably the catalyst for my cookbook collection and my passion for cooking. An interest and persistence born out of frustration pushing me ever forward.

The irony is not lost on me that blueberries feature at the core of the frustration of a few weeks ago rising up as the resolution to my rut then and this week as the source of my frustration. Their sapphire like spherical form are one of nature’s cleverest creations. Rich deep hues, sweet almost lolly like flavour reminiscent of blue heaven milkshakes and crowned with a flower like window where the bud has bloomed into berry. Likewise their delicateness is frustrating farmers at the moment as their buds soak up the relentless rain. Though they remind me of giant cabochon gems they’re not quite as tough. A reminder that whilst eating seasonally can be fraught with the fragility of being at the mercy of nature.

They require a gentle touch in cooking. My first attempt at this tart was laden with fruit it’s flesh collapsing to a jamlike puddle in the centre. Whilst this sounded like a good idea it’s ooze moistened the frangipane hampering it’s setting. Much googling and a few tweaks and we have a moist set frangipane, or almond cream as it’s also known. I’ve also used rye flour in the pastry to add a delicate nuttiness to the flavour of a short crisp casing. While the blueberries are indeed flavoursome at the moment, they can always be enhanced. The marriage of blueberries and rye had a Nordic air about it which led me to lace the frangipane with cardamon and lemon zest, creating an almost citrusy fragrant freshness.

You can enjoy still warm with a lovely vanilla ice cream, drizzled with a thin stream of lemon ice swished all around like ribbons or plain with cream, my favourite.

Ingredients:

Pastry:

120 gm plain flour

80 gm rye flour

20 gm caster sugar

100 gm cold unsalted butter, cubed

60 gm sour cream

1 tsp vanilla paste or extract

1 egg yolk

Pinch of salt

Frangipane:

80 gm butter softened

125 gm caster sugar

Finely grated rind of 1 lemon

½ tsp of ground cardamon

1 egg beaten

1 tsp vanilla

125 gm of ground almond/almond flour

30 gm plain flour

Pinch of salt flakes

200 gm fresh blueberries

1 egg extra beaten with a splash of milk for pastry glazing

1 tsp demerara sugar

Method:

Pastry

In a food processor or blender combine flours and butter and pulse on high until combined looking like breadcrumbs, some lumps are find. Beat together sour cream, egg yolk, vanilla and salt and add to food processor/blender. Pulse again until just combined. Tip it all out onto floured bench and bring together with your hands. Need briefly until just smooth and form into a thick disc. Wrap in cling wrap and refrigerate for at least one hour.

When ready roll out to a round sheet roughly 30 cms round, this should be roughly 3-4 mm thick. Gently lift using the rolling pin and lower onto a tray lined with baking paper, set aside.

Frangipane/Almond Cream

In a stand mixer beat the butter on med-high on it’s own until lighter in colour and starting to turn fluffy. Add the sugar, vanilla, lemon rind and cardamon and cream together until light and fluffy again. Add egg and beat until it resembles custard. Remove the bowl from the mixer and gently fold in the flour and almond.

Spread the Almond cream mixture over pastry in a circle roughly 2-3 cms from the edge of the pastry disc. Evenly sprinkle blueberries over the cream and fold edges up as pictured.

Brush pastry edges with egg wash and sprinkle with demerara sugar.

Bake 45-50 minutes checking half way through cooking time.