Blood Orange & Blackberry Self Saucing Pudding

He’s a sunseeker. Like a cat stalking a sunbathed window, he’s usually found where the sun shines her warming beams down. As a young man he was rarely indoors, always seeking adventure always in the sun. From summers by the seaside with loved grandparents in childhood to adventures in the bush with mates as a teen, always following the arc of the sun. In adulthood he continued to point north face turned toward the sun’s sweep across the sky his pursuits informed by those best enjoyed under golden warm skies.

I first met him as summer waned, still sunny, ocean breezes licking our young faces. He was the handsome divemaster on the boat on which I too pursued sunbathed pastimes. He’s my north, with whom I’ve pursued a life in the sun for nearly 25 years and built a sun soaked life with our two boys.

He still prefers a sunbathed life, always looking forward to sunny days, warmer seasons and life outdoors. Winters aren’t always to his liking indeed they rarely are. This winter has been particularly long, this last week marked by mornings blanketed in frosts sparkling under winter sun and crisp chilled air. At the end of the cold days a little bowl of sunshine can go some way to thaw chilled hands longing for warmth.

Seeing shiny blood oranges with a vibrant ruby blush, plump with tangy juicy at the green grocer was a draw too good to walk past. Harking back to my own childhood favourite winter pudding of magical self-saucing pudding my Blood Orange and Blackberry version is like a soft pillowy island of gently spiced almond sponge floating on a puddle of sunshiney blood orange syrup dotted with berry jewels.

Maybe it will bring some sunshine to your winter nights and warm you from the inside out.

Ingredients:

Pudding

60 gm butter melted

200 gm self raising flour

1 tsp ground ginger

½ tsp ground cardamon

40 gm ground almond/almond flour

100 gm caster sugar

1 tb of finely grated orange rind, preferably blood orange

¼ tsp salt flakes

1 egg lightly whisked

180 ml of whole milk

125 fresh blackberries

Syrup

80 gm brown sugar

125 ml freshly squeezed strained blood orange juice

200 mil boiling water

Method:

Preheat oven 180c (170c fan forced)

Generously grease a baking dish, preferably ceramic or glass. The one pictured is 30cm x 16cm at the base. Spread out fresh berries and set aside.

In a large bowl combine dry ingredients and orange rind. Mix with a whisk to to thoroughly combine and aerate. Whisk together egg, milk and melted cooled butter. Make a well in the centre of the dry ingredients and pour in wet ingredients. Fold together gently using a balloon whisk or spatula with a lite hand. Gently spread batter over berries in an even layer.

Stir together boiling water, strained juice and sugar, stirring quickly to break down sugar. Gently pour over the pudding batter pouring over a spoon to spread the fall of the liquid and moving around the surface of the pudding to prevent puddling and denting of the surface.

Pop in the oven for 35 minutes or until firm to touch in the centre. It will feel like cake floating on a pool of sauce.

Serve warm with scoops ice cream melting through the cracks or dollops of whipped Chantilly cream.

Notes:

Feel free to substitute blackberries with raspberries if you prefer.

You can switch the whole thing up and make a lemon and blueberry pudding. Just sub in lemons from oranges and blueberries for blackberries.

For a little extra zing a splash of a couple of teaspoons of your favourite orange liqueur or gin over the berries before the batter is a lovely little grown up addition

Spiced Pear & Ginger Cake

She had the tiniest feet of any baby I’d ever seen. Swaddled in baby blankets, her porcelain skin and tiny frame, doll like in my arms, she wriggled and squirmed settling into life in the big wide world. With her twin she’d been nestled in the safety of her mother’s womb almost to the end of the normal forty weeks. Not frighteningly tiny but still small her and her sister were strong enough to make their feelings known about their arrival from their warm safe little pond, saying their piece with healthy lungs, twig like arms flailing and little faces scrunched in all manner of expressions.

As a toddler she would speak with remarkable clarity and purpose still making sure the world knew what was on her mind, her blonde silken hair framing an expressive face.

Through the doors of her first day of school she walked with her twin, both thrilled to enter this next phase of growing up, a world of words, numbers and new friends. They thrived and evolved stretching and unfolding, two remarkable little buds blooming and unfurling.

Talents revealing themselves, individual characteristics emerging, girls becoming women. One a young woman of numbers the other a lover of words, both blessed with a talent for science and like science ever evolving. We were privileged to be a part of the life and growth of these two girls, the daughters of special dear friends.

Those tiny feet are now on the march. Having recently farewelled her dear twin as she set off in the world moving out of home for the first time, it’s now her turn. She’ll hit the highway and head to the country to take a posting at a country hospital where she’ll make the world of difference to her new community. Watching this beautiful evolution is like following that of a chrysalis and now the butterfly will take flight and we’ll all look up and watch with awe.

Evolution has been ever present for me this week. My first letter to you here was this lovely cake. A simple cake, my first recipe share, the birth of my letter. I’ve made that cake a few different ways since then, ever changing and evolving. It’s a bit more grown up than that original version, much like our little butterfly. We’ll all follow her up the highway this weekend, her parents, her twin, her big sister and us, a cake on my lap to celebrate this next season.

Ingredients:

2 eggs

100 gm brown sugar

100 gm caster sugar

125 ml neutral flavourer oil (I’ve used grapeseed)

80 ml buttermilk

1 cup/175 gm of self-raising flour

½ (80 gm) c wholemeal spelt flour

1 tb chai mixture/powder

1 tsp ground ginger

2 tb finely chopped glace ginger

¼ tsp salt flakes

2 pears, peeled and sliced into 8 wedge slices (I used Beurre Bosc or the brown ones)

Method:

Preheat oven 180c non fan forced. Grease and line a 20 cm springform cake pan.

Combine all dry ingredients in a bowl and dry whisk to break up any lumps, mix thoroughly and aerate.

Using a whisk in a large bowl whisk together the eggs and sugar until lightened in colour slightly and starting to appear fluffy in texture. Pour in oil and whisk until combined, repeat with milk until all well combined. Gently tip dry ingredients into wet and gently fold until almost combined. Add chopped glace ginger and fold gently again for a few folds but not overmixed.

Pour into prepared cake pan. Gently place pear slices on top as shown. Place into a preheated oven and cook for 60-70. Try not to open the oven to check it until at least 45 minutes. It’s cooked when a skewer comes out of the middle clean.

Allow to cool in the tin for 15 minutes before opening tin and sliding off base onto wire cooling rack.

You can either sprinkle icing sugar on top to serve or brush warmed apricot jam on top like I have.

Scones, Jam and Cream

A couple of weeks ago I was reading a NY Times food article written by Krysten Chambrot on scones. I reached out to her on Instagram having a chat about the difference between the anglo version and north American one. Only a week later Lindsay Cameron Wilson‘s always wonderful newsletter told the story of a swirly delicsous bundt cake which used a cup of 7Up in the ingredients. Another online conversation ensued where I shared with Lindsay my favourite recipe for scones. A food nerd like myself, and perhaps intrigued by using the 7 Up in a different context, she suggested she’d try the recipe for post ski race snacks for her son.

Food is often a bridge between cultures, one that spans sometimes great divides. Something as seemingly simple as a scone sparked conversations between oceans and highlighted the evolution of a simple recipe to something quite different and enjoyed differently. Little conversations like this really are like small exercises in anthropology and a study in different interpretations of the same thing, interestingly in this case, in two English speaking countries both with British ancestry. Perhaps as I’ve alluded to before food really is the common ‘currency’ of humanity.

This scone is made with what Australians call lemonade. In north America this drink is called 7Up or Sprite using its commercial name. I’m not sure why we use the generic term of lemonade but when you hear an Aussie use that term they’re most likely not referring to the drink traditional made with lemon, sugar and water and no fizz. This recipe is used by Australia’s famed Country Women’s Association for their large-scale catering in times of crisis and country shows (a fair for international readers). They’re fast and easy and always reliable. Just like the jam recipe I’m sharing with you. You don’t need to be an export to make this jam just remember it’s a little like chemistry and require a little loyalty to the recipe, don’t go rogue and experiment if you’ve never made jam before. Also fast it does however require your full attention and is a lovely opportunity to switch off from the world for a little while and just concentrate on the sweet alchemy of deeply coloured, fragrant fruit bubbling away on the stove.

***Note: As mentioned above when I refer to lemonade I’m referring to the clear canned fizzy soft drink commercially known with such popular brands as 7Up and Sprite.

Ingredients:

Scones:

3 c self raising flour

¼ salt flakes

1 c lemonade/7Up/Sprite

1 c cream (thickened or thick pouring cream for whipping)

Jam:

200 gm blueberries

200 gm raspberries

100 gm blackberries halved crossways if they’re large

100 gm rhubarb sliced

1 vanilla bean halved and scraped seed pod reserved

Peel of an orange peeled using a veg peeler or pairing knife(preferably blood orange if available)

2 tb fresh orange juice from the orange

1 tb lemon juice

200 gm white sugar

Cream to serve whipped with vanilla and icing/powdered sugar.

Method:

Preheat oven to 220c without a fan if possible 200 c if using fan forced.

Measure flour and salt in a large bowl mixing lightly with a balloon whisk to lighten and break up any clumping. Make a well in the centre and pour in the cream then the ‘lemonade’ over the top. Gently fold together until all the moisture is only just absorbed. Using floured hands gently bring together until starting to look resemble a dough and turn out onto a floured surface. With a light touch softly knead with a few turn to smoot out the surface. Pat down rather than roll to flatten to no less than 2 cms thick. Using a 6 cm cutter cut rounds placing on a baking tray/sheet. I like to place them ½ cm apart so they kudge up against each other as they expand and rise. This makes a bakers dozen. Brush with full cream/whole milk and bake for 12-15 minutes. They should have doubled in height and have a lovely burnished golden brown top.

Fast Chocolate Cake

As she reversed out of the driveway waving, concern etched on her face, I worked hard to maintain my poorly palour waving a reassuring hand back to her. Once the car was gone and I was sure I was alone I turned and walked to the fridge, retrieved my prize and turned on the television. The year was 1984, I was 13 and the LA Olympics were the first to be broadcast to the extent that the Hollywood games were. I’d pulled it off, I’d convinced my mum I was too sick for school and should definitely stay home for the day for the first time on my own and I’d managed to avoid a day of that teen angst and uncertainty of the firwst year of high school, which I wasn’t loving. Chocolate cake on the coffee table, Olympics on the screen, I was set. Now I’m not promoting the great aussie ‘sicky’ (that’s a fake sick day at home for overseas readers) nor am I promoting the health ‘benefits’ of a sedentary day on the couch with chocolate cake. What I am suggesting is that sometimes a slice of chocolate cake is the greatest comfort food and the greatest escape. Not too sweet, chocolatey, a little squishy, crumbly on the palate, the perfect salve on days when a little bit of comfort food is the only answer.

All that said there’s nothing worse than needing to satisfy that yearning but being short on time and motivation. Now if you guys have made my Chai Cake you’ll know I love a melt and mix for a quick fix and this one is no different. In the oven 15 minutes after the urge hits, she’ll be out of the oven by the time you’ve finished cleaning up. A bit of time to cool, crowned in oozy chocolate icing and you’re good. Don’t forget cream, no cake is complete without a good dollop.

Ingredients:

150gm butter melted and cooled

50 gm dark chocolate melted and cooled ( do this in the microwave, work smarter not harder)

1 ½ c self raising flour

100 gm caster sugar

100 gm brown sugar

½ tsp baking powder

¼ cocoa powder (the unsweetened variety)

2/3 c buttermilk ( or full cream milk with a 1 tsp lemon juice left to stand for 5 mins before using)

2 eggs at room temperature beaten

1 tsp of vanilla

Pinch of salt

Method:

Preheat oven to 180 c. Line and grease a 20cm round springform cake tin.

Melt butter and chocolate separately and leave to cool while you assemble all the other ingredients.

Combine all dry ingredients in the bowl of an electric mixer and stir with a balloon whisk to combine thoroughly, break up any lumps and add a little lightness. You can sift them all together if you less lazy than me if you wish but it doesn’t make a huge difference.

Pour over all the wet ingredients and begin mixing in a stand mixer on low to bring everything together then increase to high speed for 30 second- 1 minute or until everything is just combined.

Spoon into prepared baking tin, smooth over top lightly and bang on the bench a couple times to move any big air bubbles.

Bake 50 minutes or until the old skewer inserted comes out clean.

Cool in tin placed on a wire rack 15 mins then remove from time cooling right side up on rack until completely cooled.

Top with icing and tuck in.

Icing:

1 ½ c icing sugar

2 tb cocoa (dutch process please)

100 gm soft butter

1-2 tb milk

Combine sugar, cocoa, butter and 1 tb milk in the bowl of a stand mixer. Combine on slow until it’s all wet enough( you may need some or all of that second Tb of milk for this) to not leave you in a cloud of icing sugar when you increase speed. Increase too high and mix until light and fluffy. We’re aiming for something resembling chocolate butter cream though lighter in texture, silky and indulgent.

Sponge, Peach and Cherry Pudding

During my life I’ve had a rather complicated relationship with peaches. I know…melodramatic much! As a child it was the ‘fur’ and later as a young woman a very small window of ripeness during which I’d crunch on one. Yes crunch. Almost slightly like an apple, I had a preference for yellow clingstones a day or two shy of juicy and ripe. I was, what amounted to, a stone fruit neanderthal.

Fast forward to February 2019 when I attended a food and photography workshop in Orange, NSW (you can read about that here) when I was converted. Plump, juicy orbs of amber coloured summer jewels warm from sunshine, nectar running between fingers I was almost embarrassed at my foolishness. Emiko Davies prepared her Pesce ripiene for the group and I suddenly understood the ardour others for the seasonal joy of a ripe peach. Needless to say I’ve spent the last few years catching up.

With the addition of fresh summer cherries this pudding makes a lovely addition to December menus. Ripe, juicy peaches tumbled with cherries and topped with feather light sponge it’s a festive alternative for guests who aren’t ones for the more traditional Christmas dessert fair. You can prepare ahead and serve at room temperature or gently warm in the oven covered with foil to protect the golden sponge topping.

Finish with a snowfall of icing sugar laced with Christmas spices and serve with creamy vanilla ice cream and or thick cream or just ‘and’ because it’s Christmas and there’s never enough creamy embellishments to a fruity dessert. Pop a little thimble full of dessert wine nearby and prepare for that full bellied Christmas dinner sigh.

Ingredients:

4-6 juicy ripe peaches the size of the ones you start craving in late spring as the weather warms up

200 grams of cherries pitted and halved

1 tb caster sugar

¼ tsp ground ginger

Zest of and orange

80 gm caster sugar extra

3 eggs

1 tsp vanilla paste or extract

80 gm sifted plain flour

½ tsp baking powder

Method:

Preheat oven at 180c. Grease a round 20-22 cm ceramic ovenproof dish.

Slice peaches, add cherries, 1 tbs caster sugar, ground ginger and zest. Tumble the fruit mixture into the prepared baking dish and allow to sit while you prepare the sponge.

In a stand mixer with whisk attachment combine the extra caster sugar and eggs. Mix on high speed for 5 minutes or until doubled in volume, the colour of cream and almost meringue like.

Sift flour and baking powder over egg mixture and very gently fold through until only just combined.

Gently dollop all over fruit without spreading. Just dollop all over. We’re trying to preserve as much air as possible.

Place in heated oven and bake for 40 minutes. Check the oven after half an hour to ensure it’s not browning too much.

Serve warm with whatever creamy additions you desire.