I’ve got an internal, hitherto undeclared, shortlist of kitchen stuff that I feel I should know how to do off by heart, with no recourse to books, the internet or my Evernote recipes. Somewhere deep inside me, I’m convinced that no-one in their right mind will ever consider me a decent cook until I get these crucial skills down. On the probability level, this list goes hand in hand with having a freshly laundered apron, blowdrying my hair and managing conversation, rather than snarls, before 8am, but a girl can dream… Here’s the list:
- Make mayonnaise – well, after making tramezzini and fillings every Sunday now for months, I can actually do this. 1 egg yolk for 150ml oil. Not too difficult after all.
- Make custard – no, I’m still thoroughly confused
- Make pastry and line tins without crying or swearing – er, no. This one’s a long way off.
- Be able to blithely knead and roll out fresh pasta, without getting the dough stuck to the rollers, the worksurface, my underwear or my hair – I’m doing quite well at this one now, for an English girl. For 2 people at dinner, in a very hot and humid kitchen I use 150g 00 flour for 1 1/2 eggs. Still need three arms to roll the bloody stuff out though.
- Knock up a batch of fresh scones
That last one’s the clincher, isn’t it? I’ve got it into my head that every English domestic goddess worth her Peugeot salt mill has got to be able to produce scones off pat, while entertaining friends with intelligent conversation, seeing to three perfectly behaved children and, probably, satisfying her husband in surprisingly slutty ways. It seems so deceptively easy – flour, butter, milk, rub in, roll out, cut, bake. But every bloody recipe has different proportions and every one comes with Do’s! and Don’ts! After having a look through about twenty-five versions (yes, there’s a spreadsheet but do you really want me to go there?) I was scared sconeless:
The commandments of sconemaking:
- Don’t overwork the mixture, thus developing the gluten and making the scones tough
- Don’t use too much raising agent, as you’ll be able to taste the chemicals
- Don’t, however, stint on the raising agent otherwise you’ll get flat, dense scones
- Don’t make the mixture too wet, as the scones will spread sideways rather than upwards
- Don’t overroll the scones as they’ll be tough and flat
- Don’t, if your dough is stiff, twist the cutter as you press down or pull up, otherwise your scones will rise lopsidedly
It’s at this point that the part of my brain which is not a researcher/geek/relentless listmaker rose up and screeched “It’s only a batch of bloody scones for Christ sake! Get them in the oven and shut up woman.” Quite right too – so terrified was I by the recipes’ exhortations to not overwork the gluten, my mixture was far too wet, so my first batch of scones expanded flubbily sideways, instead of proudly rising tall. No matter, they were fluffy as a Mandarin Oriental bathrobe on the inside, and slathered (that word again, apologies, but what else does one do with curd?) with orange curd they were a perfect Sunday afternoon treat. (My second batch, using the recipe below, were much more successful, as will yours be no doubt, but I’m sure you’re far more interested in the Fails.) Anyhoo, if I can do it… etc.
P.S. The orange curd is also divine slathered (yay! twice in one blog post) on warm blueberry muffins. Nom nom.
Orange curd
Makes 2 1/2 jars
Ingredients
- 200ml orange juice (from actual oranges. But you knew that.)
- 4 eggs and 2 yolks
- 120g butter
- 120g caster sugar
- zest of 1 orange
Instructions
- Put juice, butter, zest and sugar in a bain marie and heat over simmering water until the butter melts and the mixture is glossy.
- Beat the eggs in a bowl and strain through a sieve into the mixture, stirring with a balloon whisk until a thickish custard forms and the temperature gets to 84˚C.
- Pour into sterilized jars and chill. (How rigorously you adhere to the sterilized jar thing depends on how long you intend to keep the curd for. If longer than about 72 hours then you are clearly the kind of organized, stern-willed person who won’t need instructions about sterilizing, will you? For the rest of us, a Bonne Maman jar out of the dishwasher is more than sufficient.)
Preparation time: 5 minute(s)
Cooking time: 15 minute(s)
Culinary tradition: English
Date scones
Makes 6 scones, depending on how big you like em
Ingredients
- 250g 00 flour
- 1 tbsp caster sugar
- pinch salt
- 1 scant tsp baking powder
- 1 heaped tsp cream of tartar
- 135g whole milk, or a mixture of milk and cream
- 1 egg
- 75g butter
- 50g chopped dried dates
Instructions
- Preheat the oven to 200˚C and find a cutter that suits your idea of how big a scone should be. Get the butter out of the fridge and cut into little cubes. Line a baking tray with parchment.
- Sift flour, sugar, salt, baking powder and cream of tartar into a large mixing bowl.
- Rub in the butter using your fingertips. Stir in the dates.
- In another bowl, fork together the egg and the milk mixture. Use as much of this liquid as you need to make a soft, but not wet dough that will hold its shape when rolled out. Don’t (!) overwork it though – nothing approximating kneading.
- Tip onto a floured worksurface and gently roll or pat out until about an inch thick, no thinner. Carefully cut out rounds and place on the baking tray. Reroll leftovers cautiously. Brush the tops with leftover egg/milk mixture.
- Bake for 10-15 minutes until risen and golden.
Preparation time: 10 minute(s)
Cooking time: 15 minute(s)
Number of servings (yield): 3
Culinary tradition: English
