Chocolate ice cream - dairy free, egg free, vegan

Things with us are going OK - we're on top of the allergies (for now *touch wood*) and naturally, putting Harry first means that aside from the odd longing filled thought of Galaxy bars, cheese, and a decent cup of tea - being dairy free is fine. But I miss treats, oh how I miss treats. Ice cream was mine and M's thing. We knew it was Friday as we'd sit down with a couple of scoops of whatever was on offer. And I loved it. Since going dairy free I've not really missed ice cream so much, but I do miss our ritual. And no, fruit salad is not the flipping same.

A month or so ago Lakeland invited me to their Taste of Summer event, and as part of it were demonstrating dairy free ice creams. Feeling wildly inspired, and with a mini ice cream maker as a gift I had a bash at some dairy free, chocolate ice cream. Super easy, incredibly tasty - and much, much cheaper than what's on offer at the supermarket

Dairy free chocolate ice cream - serves 4, or possibly 1 mama who hasn't had a decent pudding since November. Ahem. Not all at once though.

1 tin coconut milk
3 tablespoons cocoa powder
1 tsp vanilla extract
75ml maple syrup (you could use honey, but then it wouldn't be vegan)

Chill the base of your ice cream maker - I used the mini ice cream maker from Lakeland - which for this quanity works well.
Mix up the coconut milk, cocoa, vanilla and maple syrup then pour into the base of the ice cream maker
Pop the lid on and set it to churn - I left it for about 25 minutes, by which time the base was starting to defrost. The ice cream was lovely and smooth and a bit like a Macdonalds milkshake thickness wise. As it wasn't getting much thicker, I popped it into the freezer and left it for another half hour - after which - perfect ice cream.

This was amazing - a full on chocolate flavour, not too sweet, and the bounty bar-ness of the coconut milk was just there in the background, not too overpowering.

I've had to restrain myself from making it again, but I have itchy fingers and want to add peanut butter this time!

Easy breakfasts with Easiyo and Special K

 I struggle with breakfast, since falling pregnant I've completely gone off eggs, have always been a fussy mare about cereal, and can only face porridge when I'm in the mood. Yet, more than ever it's important to maintain a stable blood sugar and eat well. Over the winter I've toyed with avocado, tomatoes or peanut butter and banana on toast - good if the pb is sugar free. It's safe to say that even good sourdough does not do it for me anymore.

Last week I surprisingly (because I never win anything ever) won an Easiyo starter kit from Lakeland. To say I was excited is an understatement. I said I never win anything, and sooner than you could say 'what are you actually going to do with a litre of yoghurt' I had it measured, shaken and on the worktop, counting eagerly on my fingers to work out when it would be done.  Making yoghurt is so easy, it keeps brilliantly and is a perfect breakfast.

 

However a bowl of yoghurt, whilst ticking the 'good for you' box (and to my midwife's eternal relief getting that baby some calcium) isn't the world's most exciting start to the day. And this is where Special K comes in - they contacted me recently asking if I wanted to try some of their granola. And by jove I'm glad I did. Not too sweet, wonderfully crunchy and when mixed in with that home made yoghurt and some fruit, a breakfast that ticks all my boxes.

Excuse this photo - I was at the end of the packet (it's really that good) - normally the granola is much more clustery (it's a word)

What are your go to breakfasts at the moment?

If you want to see photos of step by step yoghurt making, or shots of breakfasts, be sure to pop on over to Instagram and follow me there. 

With thanks to Special K for the granola samples. All opinions are my own.

Nasi Goreng: add your own showtune here...

It's that time of year again when our thoughts turn to new shoes, a new pencil case, and of course - what to put in our packed lunch box. For me when I was at school it was always sandwiches - peanut butter and banana were my favourite - and one of my best friends Liz, taught me well that you add the banana at lunchtime so it's not brown! These days I really struggle with sandwiches - Mark has them every day, and when I try I just find them dull. As an alternative I tend to go for salads in the summer (this week, pea shoots, feta, prawn, tomato and sprouted seeds - also known as everything that was reduced in Sainsburys).

In the colder months, I have a lot of homemade soups, sometimes with homemade bread (when I'm watching what I eat, without), also leftovers. Now these aren't practical for a child's lunchbox unless you have a thermos - Lakeland do some pricy, but wide necked ones that I think would be amazing for my lunches, actually I look at them and think about ordering every time. There has to be a cheaper alternative for kids out there and I'll keep my eyes peeled.

With my lunch I have fruit - a lot of fruit, this week it's black grapes, plums, a banana and an apple and normally a Nakd bar. This allows me to graze throughout the day at work, which works for me if I don't have time for a proper lunch break. Mark has crisps, a sausage roll, peice of cheese, cereal bar, a banana and some dried fruit. We're quite different, but it's what suits us best.

 This week, I'm having a Pantry take on Nasi goreng - an Indonesian rice salad. Unusually for me,  I'm straying into the realms of cooking with tofu for the first time. Now, I had most of the base ingredients in my fridge and pantry, but had to buy the tofu, and edamame beans. However the amount of lunches this has made is extraordinary. There's definitely enough for the rest of the week, and I'll portion out the rest in the freezer for next week too. You could serve this hot - in a thermos or if your office has a microwave, or eat it cold as a rice salad.

 Penelope's Pantry does Nasi Goreng

Light olive oil
2 cups of brown basmati rice - cooked and cooled
3 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 tsp lazy chilli
2 thumb size peices of ginger grated
4 spring onions finely chopped (all the way up - use the green parts too)
1 cup of chopped red pepper
1 cup of edamame beans (I used frozen)
1 cup of sweetcorn (again I used frozen)
200g tofu (I used smoked) finely chopped
2 eggs beaten
3 tablespoons of soy sauce

Cook the rice in double the volume of boiling water (I use Delia's infallible absorbtion method) and leave to cool down.
Heat up some olive oil in a big wok or large pan, and when it's hot, add the spring onions, garlic, chilli and ginger. Cook through until this mix becomes aromatic - stirring all the while
Add the rice, and stir through so that the base ingredients aren't stuck on the bottom of the pan, but are mixed through (this way your garlic won't burn and go bitter)
Add the pepper, edamame beans, sweetcorn and tofu and cook through, stirring for about 5 minutes
Make a well in the middle of your pan and add your beaten eggs. Stir them so that they scramble and then mix through the rest of the rice
Cook through for another couple of minutes and then add the soy sauce.

Now I've tasted this and feel it's missing something - thinking back to my Lifechanging soup (TM) I think it's the sourness that it needs an edge - a friend has recommended adding a tablespoon of the pickling vinegar from a jar of pickled veg. I don't have any in, so will go without but would add that as a change for next time.

I think it's worth mentioning that traditionally Nasi Goreng would have chicken and prawns added, but costs at the moment mean I'm reducing my meat intake again. The tofu worked out far cheaper for the quantity that this made. Whilst the eggs make this unsuitable for vegans, those could easily be left out, and if you're a hardened carnivore or pescatarian again, amend it to suit you.
So that's my packed lunches sorted for the forseeable. A tasty, veggie alternative to sandwiches.

Lady Marmalade

OK, I know that Moulin Rouge isn't a stage musical, but this is my blog and I'm allowed to bend the rules should I wish (or need to).

This regular blogging lark is beginning to get easier, although I should announce a likely hiatus after this weekend as I'm moving house. Yes dear reader(s) I have finally managed to sort myself out and find a flat of my own to live in. Hurrah. Boxes are being packed in Hertfordshire and Essex, and all my beloved cookery gubbins will be being returned from storage on Monday. I may weep I'm so happy. Small matters such as not actually having a bed as yet, and being terrified of how I actually work out what wardrobes I need so the boyfriend (patient beyond the call of duty) can build them and of course Ikea reducing me to a gibbering wreck are being ignored as we push on, hopeful of cupcakes, salads, Mabel bread, and Ingredient challenges. I reckon with a little bit of luck I'll be settled properly by Easter and should I manage to purloin the Hamyln cookery book of my Mother's will bake a Simnel cake in honour of the occaision.

So, marmalade. Indeed. Not something I've attempted before. Although I have done chutney, and a kind of redcurrant liqueur. Did I ever blog that? I must check. No preserves have been attempted until this weekend, owing to a great deal of fear. Fear of burning myself on the sugar, of getting it wrong and wasting all those ingredients, and of not knowing when it's done. Having had a go, I can safely say there were no burns (although I suspect the preserving pan and jam spoons - thank you Lakeland - helped), it didn't go wrong, and it was really easy to see when it was done. So, in my usual style I'm going to try and do this as an idiots guide to making marmalade, because that's what I needed and what Mark's mum was brilliant at. I always talk at work about making learning accessible, and sometimes when you're doing something new you need that same approach.

Seville Orange and Whiskey marmalade

2lb Seville oranges
4lb sugar
Quarter of a pint of whiskey
4 pints of water
3-4 lemons, juiced

Sterilised jam jars
Either lids or waxed discs and cellophane toppers
We used a proper preserving pan, and spoon and whilst I don't think these are necessary, I would certainly want a long handled wooden spoon and a very sturdy pan.
Muslin and string.
Sharp knife (I used a paring knife which was perfect for the job)

Now you may well be aware that the season for Seville Oranges is long gone. But as I had just managed to damage myself at the end of January, Mark's mum very kindly froze the oranges (whole) so that we could do this when I was better. She took them out of the freezer to defrost on Friday, and then we began the marmalade on Saturday morning.

First off wash your oranges. Fruit is routinely waxed for transport, storage and to preserve it and no one wants Seville Orange marmalade with whiskey and wax do they?

Now we cooked the oranges (whole) in 4 pints of water for 2 hours on a low heat. This softens everything and gives you your liquid for later (you need at least 2 pints left at the end of the cooking time, so you might need to top it up) We did this in a saucepan with a lid on.

Now, take your oranges off the heat, wash hands, don pinny (absolutely necessary) and off you go.
Take the oranges out of the pan, and pop them on a chopping board or similar. Quarter them so that they cool down. They are really really hot at this point. I have asbestos fingers and I squeaked a bit.

Take out the pips and pop these in a saucer or dish - you'll need them later

Scrape out the flesh from each quarter and pop that in the pan you're going to cook the jam in
Then really really finely (unless you like chunky marmalade of course) shred the skin. Because you've cooked the oranges this is much much easier than it would be otherwise, but it's still fiddly and takes a while. My chopping got finer as I went along.

You need to do this to all the oranges. Yes, all of them. Put the radio on, or if you're me, find http://broadwayworld.com/radio.cfm and sing away happily all the while annoying your boyfriend who just wants to watch the cricket.

Ok, so the oranges and the flesh is all in the preserving pan. Add 2 pints of the water from the water you used to cook the oranges in (you can top it up if you've not got enough) and bring to a boil. You do need some extra pectin and for this we added the lemon juice, and (and I promise this is the only fiddly bit) put the pips in a muslin square which we tied up with string and then dangled in the cooking marmalade much like a bouquet garni.


Now, add the sugar - we just used granulated sugar, but you can buy jam sugar that has extra pectin added. However, talking to Mark's mum we agreed on this fundamental point. If you're making something like marmalade from scratch, it's probably because you love cooking and you're not one for unecessary chemicals in your food - so why use something that has those in?
 
Put an old saucer or little plate in the fridge now

Right, you now, put the pan on the heat and bring to the boil whilst stirring. You want a rolling boil - biggish bubbles that pop on the surface, but it really doesn't need to go mental.

You continue to cook whilst it bubbles, stirring like a mad person (not beating) until it 'flakes' This took us about 15 minutes, but we're working with fruit here, it's going to be slightly different for everyone. Now not being experienced with preserves the best way I can describe this is - the jam has got darker, a lot darker - ours was probably closer to the colour of toffee than anything to do with oranges, and it leaves little flakes on the side of the pan and the back of the spoon. It's also like a loose cake batter in consistency when in the pan.

Once it's done this, take a teaspoonful or so and put it on your saucer that's been in the fridge. Oh yes, if you make this on the right hand burner of your hob then whenever you need to take it off just slide it over to the left. That way you don't need to lift it. You want after a minute or so, the top to wrinkle but the underneath to be jam like in consistency. Ours wasn't ready so we put it back on for another 5 minutes.

Leave your burner on, but with your pan off the heat add the whiskey, and put it straight back on the heat. I think my precise words at this point were "WOAH!" as it bubbled insanely like something out of a chemistry experiment. Give it a minute and then take it off the heat again.

You have made marmalade. Applause, tea, biscuits, all shall rain down on you. I demanded Mark come see, as did his Dad. Everyone was very impressed. It felt a bit like riding my bike without my stabilisers for the first time although that ended up with me crashed in the strawberry plants so maybe that's not the best analogy.

Jars, need to be sterilised whilst you're doing all of this. Having done this with Mark's mum, I can't imagine doing it by myself as this is one of those points where it felt like you needed an extra pair of hands. But, that's not going to stop me trying. Says she gamely. We washed them in hot soapy water, rinsed them and put them in the oven on low whilst we made the jam.

Put the now (really quite hot) jars on the side, pop a jam funnel in the top of one and fill it up. Fuller than you think. Almost to the first line of the thread for the lid. If that makes sense. Repeat until they're all done (mine made 7 jars of varying sizes)

Once this is all done you can pop your lids on. If you're using wax discs, these need to cover the top of the jam and be pressed down so they're resting completely on it. Then dampen your cellophane, turn it over and put that over the top of the jar with an elastic band to hold it - the water helps to stretch it out so as it dries it's taut.

Pretty jar toppers and labels now follow. Demand people admire and eat your marmalade. I did. Oh and before I forget, I had about a tablespoon that we couldn't fit in a jar, we just put this in a cup and used it over the next couple of days on toast. Yum.

I know this is a long method, and there's less rambling than usual. But I have to say I really enjoyed the whole process of making marmalade, and can imagine that on a cold wintery morning, it's a lovely snug way to stay toasty and be busy in the kitchen.

Huge thanks to Mark's mum for her never ending patience, apparently we're doing strawberry jam next. Watch this space (well wait for June time first as we're picking the strawberries too. Is it sad that I've never been to a PYO farm? Actually don't answer that).

Chutney...

For once, I haven't been able to find any musical theatre reference to 'chutney' aside from a minor character in Act 2 of 'Legally Blonde' so consider yourselves spared (well, for the time being at least.)

Life has resumed it's normal, hectic pace (thanks to large quantities of painkillers still, but the back is finally showing signs of improvement) here in chilly London, with Guiding taking up a large part of my time, work even more and sleep not nearly enough. However, I had a long weekend off work so decided to put Friday to good use. Today, not so much, I'm barely able to stand and despite intial thoughts of a Nigella Apple and Almond cake, the thought of trekking into the town centre (which takes approximately 4 minutes) is all too much - I may change my mind at lunchtime, or may continue to substitute tea for meals... we shall see.

So back to the tomato chutney. Over the past week, autumn has actually been fruitful, and for once I'm being literal and not metaphorical. I've have been the ever grateful recipient of a big bag of Bramley apples, and the insistent picker of about 3 kilogrammes of green tomatoes. Being saintly, I only kept half of those (I've yet to see what the grower of the tomatoes has done with his half!) and went to my usual fallback of the wonderful women on the f&d boards at http://www.handbag.com/. To be fair I knew I wanted to make chutney and was already kicking myself for not following a friend's mothers (I confess, that apostrophe has beaten me) example and keeping all my jars so that it was quick and easy to do, but was forced (forced I tell you) to place an order with Lakeland for some, oh so pretty kilner jars, the pie pan I linked to last week, and somewhat randomly a staplefree stapler which I was sure I couldn't live without. Or something.

A very kind poster suggested the following recipe:

Chutney:1.5 kg (3lb) green toms,

250g (0.5lb) onions,

1kg (2lb) cooking apples,

500g (1lb) brown sugar,

250g (0.5lb sultanas,

60g (2oz) mustard seeds (soaked for 3 hours),

4 chillies, chopped,

1tsp ground ginger,

2.5 cups (625mls) vinegar

1. Coarsely mince the onions and tomatoes and put into a large bowl.

2. Sprinkle with the salt and set aside for 24 hours. Strain.

3. Put the onions, toms and remaining ingredients into a large saucepan and bring to the boil. Reduce heat and simmer for 1.5hours.

4. Pour into warm sterilised jars and when cool, cover with two layers of greaseproof paper and one layer of aluminium foil. Tie securely with string.

So, this being me of course things didn't go entirely to plan. I blitzed the onions and tomatoes roughly in the food processor on Wednesday evening and put them in a bowl covered in clingfilm overnight. At this point I hit my first hurdle, salt. I don't add salt to food with much regularity so don't really keep it in the house, I know! I know food needs seasoning, it's just I seem to have a really sensitive sense of taste where it's concerned and unless it comes in the form of marmite, or on chips I can find it entirely overpowering as a seasoning. Now I don't care if that makes me some kind of foodie luddite, but I do care when it means all I have in the house is a tablespoon that I have eked out of a salt grinder. (Note to self: read whole recipe properly before starting) Anyway I decided that was enough and left the onions and tomatoes salting happily in the kitchen. Thursday night came and a Brownies meeting overran until 10pm so I took an executive decision to leave them salting until Friday morning and just put the mustard seeds in to soak. It didn't seem to harm them, although the vegetables were somewhat pungent when I started to drain them.

So Friday morning and I'm happily draining the water that has come out of the onions and tomatoes, blitzing up the chillis and apples in the food processor and borrowing the flatmates pan to cook the chutney in. Everything gets chucked in, stirred around and brought to the boil. Oh and prepare yourself for the smell - this is pungent stuff. Fabulous, but the smell was in my hair and about my person for hours - and that was with every window open and the extractor fan going full belt.

Anyway, it being a chuck it all in and let it cook for an hour and a half recipe, I made use of the time sensibly by finishing packing for Brownie holiday whilst watching musicals and entirely forgetting to sterilise my jars. If I were to make another batch, I would stir slightly more regularly than I did as I did manage to burn the bottom of the pan - no permanent damage fortunately, but still something I'd try to avoid in the future. When jarring (is that even a word?) the chutney a quick taste suggested that at present this is a very tart chutney, full of fruit and veg with a really nice thick consistency. At present it's maturing in our cellar, but come Christmas we'll officially open it and do a tasting session with some good, strong cheddar. But please, until then keep your fingers crossed for the green tomato chutney.

Other things cooking in the pantry over the last week; another Nigella chocolate Guinness cake (entirely consumed by cold, tired and wet Guiders this weekend) and a lot of pasta with tomato based sauces.

Come back next week to find out if I ever leave the confines of the flat to try the Nigella Apple and Almond cake (Feast ) and if I decide to brave pastry again... Watch this space!

And here endeth the first post with entirely NO mention of musical theatre *sob* it's a sad day for blogging when that happens...