These didn't last long

Flour.
Eggs.
Milk.

Pancakes, in their purest form (100g plain flour, a pinch of salt, 1 egg, 250ml milk and a dribble of melted butter all whisked together), are one of the easiest things that you can cook.

I’ve never been one to resist a pancake opportunity so Little Missy and I have been slaving over a hot stove all week, flipping our way through different pancake options with alacrity. After trying out some chocolate and oatmeal variations, we’ve come back to our brunch favourite: the thick, fluffy buttermilk pancake.

And a few other options…
2011: Sunday morning pikelets
2010: Buckwheat Pancake Cake with Leeks and Mushrooms
2009: Time for Pancakes – and Irish Pancake recipe
2008: Pancake Tuesday, Sowan’s Organics
2007: Ricotta and Spinach Pancake Bake
2007: Pancake Tuesday recipe round up

Buttermilk Pancakes
These were originally inspired by the ones on Bakingsheet but have changed a lot over the years! I served this variation with some bananas and maple syrup but they’re equally good (or maybe even better) with some crispy streaky bacon. And, if you can get your hands on some of the fabulous Highbank Orchard Syrup, pour rather than drizzle.

Plain flour – 150g
Bicarbonate of soda – 1/2 teaspoon
Baking powder – 1 teaspoon
Sugar – 1 tablespoon
A pinch of salt
Buttermilk – 250mls
Egg – 1
Vanilla extract – 1/2 teaspoon
Butter – 1 tablespoon, melted
A little oil or butter for frying

Start heating a heavy based frying pan over a medium heat.

Whisk the flour, bicarbonate of soda, baking power, sugar and salt in a large bowl. Mix the buttermilk, egg and vanilla together in a jug. Whisk the liquid ingredients slowly into the dry ingredients until thoroughly combined, then stir in the melted butter.

Add about a tablespoon of oil or butter to your frying pan. When hot, pour in the batter. I use a soup ladle and cook about three pancakes at a time. Cook for 2-4 minutes, until lightly brown underneath, then turn and fry the other side. Repeat, adding more oil/butter as necessary, until all the batter has been used up.

Makes: enough pancakes to serve four people, very happily.

xxx

Catherine’s Family Kitchen landed in my own kitchen at a rather busy time. What with painting the newly renovated cottage, moving into it and the arrival of the Small Girl, this review got a little delayed.

There are plenty of warming soups for wintery weather, quick suppers for cold evenings and tempting deserts for miserable nights. The Red Lentil, Red Pepper and Coconut Soup is full of sunshine, Lemon Pasta with Crème Fraîche and Rocket a speedy assemble job and Creamy Nectarine and Blackberry Pots are a lot less naughty than they sound.

I love the five quick, simple ideas at the start of each chapter – eg salad dressings, sweet scones, sweet sauces (White Chocolate and Wasabi!) – and the five ways with mash is guaranteed to make you look twice at that sack of spuds.

This book is all about getting a bit more imaginative when it comes to feeding the family, without scaring them off entirely. Lots of great meal ideas to try out.

Must try: Feta, Mandarin and Wild Rice Salad, Butternut Squash and Coriander Seed Bread, Roast Haddock with Feta and Tomato

Catherine’s Family Kitchen is published by Gill & Macmillan.

Read more: Catherine’s Italian Kitchen by Catherine Fulvio

One-pot wonder

Aromatic Chicken Pilaf – Moroccan style
Catherine’s original recipe has more Indian flavours but, based on the recipe note, I took it on a Moroccan walkabout. Ras el hanout is an evocative Moroccan spice blend that it becoming more widely available – I picked mine up in a Middle Eastern shop in Dublin – or you can make it yourself.

Sunflower oil
Chicken pieces – 800g, approx 8, skinned and cut in half.
Onions – 2, sliced
Garlic cloves – 4, sliced
Ras el Hanout – 2 teaspoons
Red ale – 100ml. I used Sunburnt Irish Red or you could substitute white wine.
Brown rice – 400g
Chickpeas – 1 400g tin, drained
Dried apricots – 100g, chopped
Zest 1 lemon
Chicken or vegetable stock – 1 litre
Broccoli – 200g, cut into florets
Flaked almonds – 50g, toasted
Sea salt, freshly ground black pepper

Heat the oil in a deep, heavy-based pan over a medium heat. Brown the chicken pieces all over, set aside and add the sliced onion to the pan. Cook for about 8 minutes, until soft and slightly brown. Add the garlic and ras el hanout and cook for 2 more minutes.

Pour in the red ale, simmer for 2 minutes, then tip in the rice, chickpeas, apricots and lemon zest along with the chicken. Pour over the stock, season and bring to the boil. Cover with a lid and reduce the heat until the whole pan is gently bubbling. This needs to cook for about 20-25 minutes or until the stock has been absorbed by the rice and the chicken is thoroughly cooked.

Place the broccoli florets on top for the last 5 minutes so that they can steam cook. Sprinkle with the toasted almonds and serve.

Serves 4.

Adapted from Catherine’s Family Kitchen by Catherine Fulvio.

Oozy and cheesy

I’ve never really been a fan of Valentine’s Day. It was such an angst-ridden occasion when I was a teenager: I would be simultaneously longing to get a card from my object of desire, knowing that would never happen and terrified that I’d get the pity card from my mother. There would be an intense giddiness throughout the school, rumours flying around and teachers not in the least bit amused by trying to keep flighty teenagers in line.

Sometimes it’s a relief to look back and realise that there certainly are advantages to growing up!

We never go out around Valentine’s and special meals on our own are somewhat limited by two small squawkers, but there is always post-baby-bed cheese.

I was easily seduced by this palm-sized Coeurs Neufchatel that I picked up at Iago in Cork’s English Market. A soft, salty Camembert-style heart from Normandy,  it’s going to be a good match with a few plain crackers and some Sunburnt Irish Red from Eight Degrees. The simplest matches can often be the best.

Other cheesy Valentine’s ideas
2008 The easiest Valentine’s Day dinner: Baked Vacherin Mont d’Or
2007 Valentine’s Night – delayed: Simple Irish Cheese Fondue

If you want to avoid the lots-of-semi-silent-couples-lined-up-for-dinner idea, support a good cause and eat some good Cork food, the English Market is holding a Valentine’s Night Fundraiser for Threshold, with all-inclusive tickets just €50. Communal tables available for groups of single people.

The entrance to Glebe Gardens - Little Missy likes the pond

With the weather getting a little warmer – and wetter – this cottage dweller’s thoughts turn to the garden. Every morning, as Little Missy and I feed our hens, I try to incorporate a few seasonal jobs: weeding around the blackcurrant bushes, poking at the pots of perennial herbs to see if they’re still alive, a little apple tree pruning. It’s time to take out the box of vegetable seeds and see what we’ll be growing this year. But mind the pests!

***

Are you fed up with carrot root fly attacking your lovingly tended seedlings or your hostas being reduced to Swiss cheese by slug attacks? Caroline Hennessy takes a look at some common garden pests and finds out how to deal with them organically. First published on SilverCircle.ie in 2009.

Violent death, mass murder and bloodshed – just another day in the life of a gardener trying to cope with the numerous pests to which a typical garden is prey. However, when you use poisonous pellets for the slugs and toxic sprays on the aphids, you are also endangering friendly wildlife that could help you with those problems.

Jean Perry of Glebe Gardens in west Cork has been growing organically for more than 30 years. She firmly believes that avoiding pesticides builds a self-regulating micro-environment. Situated just outside Baltimore, Perry’s five well-managed acres include a highly productive kitchen garden and two polytunnels that supply the on-site café with fruit and vegetables. Despite the larger scale and the fact that the café is dependent on the garden produce, the pests that Jean has to deal with are the same as anyone trying to grow a few plants in their back garden.

Slugging it out
The number one problem, and one that she is constantly asked about at her weekend gardening classes, is slugs and snails. “There isn’t any one real answer,” Perry says, pointing out that she relies on a multi-pronged attack of distraction, barriers and removal. “With new lettuce plants or anything very tender, I try to put down old cabbage leaves or a scooped out grapefruit shell. I think they prefer decaying organic matter.” With the slugs gathered together, you can easily collect and dispose of them.

Surrounding plants with barriers of dry material is also effective: “I dry out egg shells, whizz them up in the blender and scatter them around plants like hostas, delphiniums and cana lilies.”

When all else fails, Perry heads out at night with her torch to pick the snails and slugs directly off the plants. If you have a small garden, she observes, biological controls such as nematodes (tiny worm-like animals that kill slugs) are useful, as is surrounding particularly precious plants with copper barriers.

My lunch at Glebe Gardens café

Methods of disguise
Glebe Gardens is close to the sea so it avoids the worst effects of carrot root fly because that particular pest doesn’t like the wind. However, it can still make its presence felt. Despite the name, it doesn’t limit itself to carrots but also attacks parsnips, celery and even parsley. Perry needs a regular supply of carrots for the café and she swears by horticultural fleece. She covers the crop with a layer to prevent the flies from laying their eggs.

Other methods that she recommends include: putting a polythene barrier around your carrots – the flies travel low and, if they hit something, they tend to go up and over it; planting garlic and onions to disguise the smell; and sowing sparingly so that you don’t have to thin and release carrot scent into the atmosphere.

Ultimately, the best way of dealing with destructive garden insects is in a proactive manner. Make sure your seedlings are strong before planting them out so that they are less liable to succumb to attacks. Encourage biodiversity in the garden with log piles for slug-eating beetles and hedgehogs; some overgrown grass for ladybirds so that they keep your aphids in check; and by growing plants like forget-me-nots, sunflowers, fennel and cornflowers that will attract birds, bees and other beneficial insects. And remember: there’s no one way of totally eradicating pests organically – it’s much better to learn to live with them.

More:
Glebe Gardens, Baltimore, Co Cork
Jean Perry runs regular weekend gardening courses. The 2012 schedule is up now at:
www.glebegardens.com

Garden shops that sell natural pest controls:
www.mrmiddleton.com
www.theorganiccentre.ie

My account of a weekend gardening course with Jean:
Gardening at the Glebe

After a very enjoyable trip there last summer, I would highly recommend the café at Glebe Gardens: the freshest produce from the gardens – including plenty of free-range eggs from the on-site hens – thoughtfully cooked and beautifully presented. We called in for coffee one morning and ended up spending most of the day there, taking a stroll around the garden to work up an appetite for lunch, which we ate on the sun-soaked terrace. Open from Easter to September.

Perfect for a cold day

A freezing cold afternoon plus one trying-to-avoid-too-much-caffeine-mother and a grumpy-from-her-nap-toddler. The only solution? Two cups of warming Spiced Hot Chocolate.

When I was in college, a mug of this – made with lots of Bournville chocolate – plus a croissant was counted as a meal. I got freshly addicted while working at Urru Mallow where we made it with O Conaill’s unsweetened 100% cocoa chocolate, sugar added to taste. When I can get my hands on it, I use Willie’s Cacao chocolate blocks but, when that’s all used up, my fall back ingredient is any bar of dark chocolate, with minimum 70% cocoa solids.  Two squares of that, a cup of milk, some heat and a little whisking is all that’s required.

And then there’s the spice:  I pick from ginger for warmth, cinnamon for comfort, a grating of fresh nutmeg to soothe and chilli to enliven. It changes depending on the day and the mood. Cardamom gets a look in when I want to dream of someplace exotic, a drop of vanilla if we’re all out of sorts and, at Christmas time, the Green Saffron blend for A Winter’s Ale gave us a hit of spicy citrus. There’s also a tiny pinch of salt in there. You wouldn’t believe how much sweeter it makes the chocolate taste.

Feel free to add a dollop of whipped cream on top if you have it on hand but then this Hot Chocolate might become a very occasional treat instead of a daily necessity.

Spiced Hot Chocolate
This is not a set in stone recipe, by any means, merely the combination that works best for me. Play around and see what works best for you. Little Missy gets a little of this in her own wee cup, without salt, topped up with lots of milk. And one word of warning: soak or wash your saucepan in cold water straightaway. You’ll thank me later.

Dark chocolate, 70% – 25g or 2 squares
Milk – 200mls, approx, or a cupful
A pinch of your spice of choice
A small pinch of sea salt

Put all ingredients into a small saucepan and warm over a medium heat, whisking occasionally. Bring to the boil, allow to bubble for about 1o seconds, and pour into your cup or mug of choice.

Enjoy…

Makes 1 cup.

My first time pulling a pint of Eight Degrees beer - the lads were suitably impressed

2011? Phew! A crazy, crazy year. Still, after a relatively calm January, I’ve finally had a chance to gather together my favourite food memories of the last 12 months.

***

Eight Degrees Beer: the first sip of our Howling Gale Ale at the Franciscan Well Easter Beer Fest – declared ready just the previous night – was the cumulation of years of planning, dreaming and home brewing. The Husband and the Aussie hit the ground running and haven’t stopped since.

From cracking open the first keg of Sunburnt Irish Red at the Irish Cloud Festival beer and food matching event, “testing” Knockmealdown Porter to develop a Chocolate Brownie recipe and checking out A Winter’s Ale with Farmette during the Irish Country Living photoshoot, it’s been a rollercoaster ride. Looking forward to seeing what the lads have planned for 2012!

***

We'd like to think there'll be sunshine in May

Inishfood: it’s not often that you drive six hours for dinner. But it was worth it. And the Taste of Inishowen feast that we enjoyed at Harrys Restaurant in Co Donegal was only one of the high points of a most memorable weekend that celebrated not only the food of the peninsula but wonderful coffee, cheese, raw milk and black pudding.

I’m sure the indomitable Donal, who organised and facilitated the whole thing at Harrys, might have thought otherwise as he waved us off after the weekend but, as it turns out, it was too good to be a once-off event.

We’re all heading back up there in May to celebrate Irish food with workshops, talks and lots of convivial eating. Book your accommodation for 18 – 20 May, follow Inishfood on Twitter to find out what Donal has got planned and keep an eye on Irishfoodbloggers.com for more details. It’s going to be bigger and even better than 2011.

 ***

Snack time - disappearing fast!

Irish flavours: 2011 was undoubtedly the year of Ed Hick’s Bacon Jam. Salty, sweet, bacon-y and all-round addictive, I first came across it at Bloom and have picked up a jar where ever I’ve seen it since.  It’s so good that I’ve also been playing around with my own homemade version – it’s never going to top Ed’s top secret blend but at least it’s a good stopgap until the next Dublin trip.

At the cottage we’re also loving: crumbly, crunchy Irish Atlantic Sea Salt - buying Irish is a pleasure when the standard is this high; the sweetest Toonsbridge Irish buffalo mozzarella from Macroom; Keogh’s hand cooked crisps, complete with Spud Nav – apparently the Lady Claire potatoes in my bag of crisps came from Sheepshill near Blanchardstown; and Little Missy would undoubtedly vote for Highbank Orchard Syrup that she loves drizzled on yoghurt for a mid-afternoon snack.

***

The right food at the right time: steaming hot tea and limp buttery toast in CUMH half an hour after the arrival of the Small Girl. White processed bread has never tasted so good.

Some of Declan Ryan's bread

Head along to Middleton Farmers’ Market on a Saturday morning and you can’t miss the distinct Arbutus Bread smell. Follow your nose and you will find Declan Ryan’s stall, piled high with fragrant, just-baked brown soda cakes, white ducks, baguettes, wholemeal spelt loaves and sourdoughs. Ryan is always busy, meeting and greeting as he sells and charms, popping bread into bags and baskets or grabbing an empty flour sack to fill for the regulars who take six or seven loaves at a time. Surrounded by eager customers, his wares never last for long.

Before he started baking bread full time, Ryan was the chef-proprietor of Arbutus Lodge Hotel in Cork and, in 1974, was the winner of Ireland’s first Michelin star. Unlike today, it wasn’t seen as much of a triumph and didn’t have much of an impact on the business. “Absolutely none,” laughs Ryan. “It was only reported, grudgingly, in the middle pages of the Cork Examiner.”

Ryan used to make brown soda bread for his appreciative restaurant customers but, as they told him, “it was not ideal for mopping”. With James Beard’s definitive Beard on Bread to hand, he started experimenting with different yeast breads.

The day after he retired from Arbutus Lodge in 1999, he started baking in his garage. However, demand was such that he swiftly outgrew those temporary premises and now the night’s baking is done at a well-equipped industrial unit. Ryan’s one-time hobby has grown into a full-time business, employing eight people, including five bakers, supplying high quality, hand-finished breads to restaurants and delis in and around Cork city.

It’s easy to see how passionate Ryan is about bread. The flour that he uses is the French Label Rouge, a premium – and pricey – product. “We don’t use cheaper flour,” says Ryan adamantly. “We import the Label Rouge through a wholesaler and I have a French baker over every year to show me how to handle that year’s flour, as the moisture levels vary.”

When he started making bread, he had a baker from San Francisco working with him for a month. “He gave me a good grounding in sourdoughs,” comments Ryan, who has kept his sourdough starter going for 15 years. “We feed and use it every day.” Arbutus Bread’s traditional brown soda bread recipe, which he has been using for the past 37 years, comes from his childhood. “My grandmother from Dunmanway made it for many, many years; we were all reared on it.”

In a country with few artisan bread makers and a new-found hunger for real bread, Ryan’s second career has turned into a runaway success. As yet, only nine years into his (first) retirement, he shows no signs of slowing down. With people willing to travel from far and wide to get their hands on Arbutus Bread, long may Ryan’s bread-making passion continue.

Declan Ryan’s West Cork soda bread
150g plain white flour
10g salt
10g bread soda (bicarbonate of soda)
10g cream of tartar
500g coarse brown flour (stoneground for preference)
50g Macroom oatmeal
50ml sour cream
200ml sunflower oil
650ml approx. Clona buttermilk
60g extra coarse brown flour for coating

Preheat the oven to 230ºC/210ºC fan oven/450ºF/gas 8.

Sieve the plain white flour, salt, bread soda and cream of tartar into a large bowl. Add the coarse brown flour and Macroom oatmeal and mix well.

Whisk the sour cream and sunflower oil with 600ml of the buttermilk. Make a well in the centre of the dry ingredients and pour in most of the liquid. Using a wooden spoon (or your hand), stir the ingredients together, adding more buttermilk as necessary to produce quite a wet dough.

Roll in the extra coarse brown flour and shape into a cake. Cut a deep cross on the top and bake in the preheated oven for 15-20 minutes before reducing the heat to 200ºC/190ºC fan oven/400ºF/gas 6. Bake for a further 20-25 minutes.

The bread should be well risen, brown, crusty on top and there should be a hollow sound when you tap the base of the loaf.

Turn out on a wire rack and wrap in a clean tea towel until cold.

Useful Contacts:
Arbutus Bread, Unit 2B, Mayfield Industrial Estate, Mayfield, Cork.
www.arbutusbread.com
My account of a night spent at the Arbutus bakery – and why I’d never quibble at the price of a loaf: Balllymaloe Cookery Course: Week 7: Wednesday

As big as a baby's head - I checked

…during which I ate creamy, chive-flecked seafood chowder in an large bread bowl (€9.50) at the friendly Bakehouse (6 Bachelors Walk, Dublin). I arrived in the door with a pushchair full of squawking Small Girl - she’s not a fan of late lunches – and the helpful staff were very much appreciated.

Lots of freshly baked sweet treats on offer but, seeing as I couldn’t even get near finishing my bread – seriously, look at the size of it! – I had to decline, this time.

Besides, I was en route to…

Whose fingers are those, I wonder?

…The Chester Beatty Library to meet friends for coffee in my favourite Silk Road Cafe (Chester Beatty Library, Dublin Castle). And who could resist a slice of the ultra-moist orange cake that sat on the counter alongside the baklava, flapjacks and Turkish Delight? Not me – and the Small Girl was even trying to get her hand on it.

With the Castle Gardens just outside and a roof garden on top of the library, it’s a great place to meet friends with a lively toddler, especially as the Middle Eastern-style lunches in the cafe – I’m a fan of the lamb koftas, with lots of unusual salads - are rather special. I can also say, from back in the day when I lived in Dublin, that the fresh mint tea does miraculous things to Saturday morning hangovers.

After coffee, cake and chat, it was time to head back down the hill to…

Tess straight ahead, Sadie on the right

…grab an early dinner with the Husband at Skinflint (19 Crane Lane, Dublin 2).

Now open in the former Crackbird venue, it’s another Twitter-promoted restaurant (catch them at SkinflintDublin), with free #tweetseats available, a slim menu – grilled pizzas, daily meatball and one-pot-wonder specials – and a simply decorated room that makes a style statement out of leaving the nuts and bolts on show.

It was a “Sadie” (€11) thin-crust pizza, reeking of garlic in a make-sure-you’re-both-eating-it-way, with spinach, crunchy hazelnuts and melted fontina, that I loved – great textures – but the sweet aniseed flavours of “Tess” (€13), complete with pulled pork and mascarpone put up a fair fight.

Loved the 25kg bags of Odlums piled by the wall, chilli honey on the tables for drizzling as desired and the buzz. Good tasty food, fast.

A good shortcut to add layers of flavour

Parmesan, tomato puree, garlic, balsamic vinegar: all kitchen staples that we use, almost unthinkingly, every day when cooking.

They are also four of the ingredients in Laura Santtini‘s intriguing Taste #5 Umami Paste. Named after the delicious savoury taste common to these foods, along with the others that Santtini includes – anchovies, black olives and porcini mushrooms – umami is the fifth element of taste, the others being sour, salt, bitter and sweet. It’s the mmm-factor that you get when you have a dash of soy sauce on plain rice, taste a good chicken noodle soup or eat some of Ed Hick’s ultra-addictive bacon jam.

And how does the paste itself taste? It’s intensely savoury and, as Santtini directs, I’ve used it to enhance gravy, burgers and tomato sauces. I tried it in a simple Lentil Soup, one of my winter staples, and was pleasantly surprised at the rich meatiness that it gave to the broth. But it made me think of how I automatically add umami without thinking to that soup. Remember that list of ingredients that I mentioned earlier? Parmesan, tomato puree, garlic and balsamic vinegar? Yep. Those – and some good bacon – make up a soup that’s choc-full of natural umami.

If you can get your hands on it, Taste #5 Umami Paste is a great plaything with no icky ingredients, just things that you would have in your own kitchen, and no MSG. I’ve certainly had fun trying out some of the suggestions on Santtini’s website and it’s the perfect go-to when you don’t have time to build up layers of flavour. Try it – and see if you’ve unknowingly been adding umami all along in your cooking.

Taste #5 Umami Paste is available in Superquinn and Supervalu branches throughout Ireland. I was sent this product to try by Panache PR.

Simple - and full of naturally occuring umami

When prep-ing your veg, think about whether you want a chunky vegetable soup or something a little more refined and chop accordingly. Double up for an epic come-and-come-again pot.

Olive oil – 1 tablespoon
Smoked bacon – 100g, chopped (about 5 streaky bacon rashers)
Onion – 1, peeled and chopped
Carrots – 2, chopped
Celery – 2 sticks, chopped
Garlic – 1 cloves, sliced
Split red lentils – 125g
Green or brown lentils – 125g
A tin of chopped tomatoes
Tomato puree – 1 teaspoon
Chicken or vegetable stock – 1 litre
Bay leaves – 2
A sprig of thyme
Balsamic vinegar – 1 tablespoon
Sea salt, freshly ground black pepper

Heat the oil in a heavy-based soup pot and fry the bacon on a medium heat until the fat starts to run. Add the chopped onion, carrots, celery and garlic and cook gently until the onion softens, about 6-8 minutes.

Stir in the lentils, tinned tomatoes, tomato puree, stock, bay leaves and thyme. Bring to the boil and then simmer on a low heat, covered, until the lentils are cooked, approximately 30-40 minutes. Stir in the balsamic vinegar and season to taste.

Serve with plenty of crusty fresh bread or, our especial favorite, wholemeal toast, spread with Cashel Blue cheese.

Serves 4.

Mood enhancing food

It’s January. Time for just a little indulgence.

Yes, I know that we’re all supposed to be on a hair-shirt-fun-free-detox-diet but on a dark, dreary school/work morning it’s no harm at all to have a little something that will lift the spirits.

This Cinnamon Raisin Bread, born from a love of the M&S Cinnamon Raisin Bagels, has become a staple at the cottage.  Just a little sweeter than our normal loaf, with enough raisins to keep Little Missy interested, it fulfils a major breakfast bread requirement: it toasts beautifully, needing only a dab of salty butter to finish it off. That said, I have caught the Husband trowelling on a layer of my mother’s rich lemon curd but might be just a little step too far.

One of the other major advantages of the bread is the spicy, spirit-raising scent that fills the house as it is toasted. On days when the Small Girl has had an interesting night (teething at three-and-a-half months is no fun) and Little Missy has to be wrestled into her clothes for one of her two crèche mornings, it’s amazing what a slice of this bread, a mug of coffee and a little while gazing out the window, wool-gathering while watching the birds on their feeder, can do for the mood.

Ready for the toaster

Cinnamon Raisin Bread
I make this in my breadmaker – it’s easy to put together with one hand while holding a child in the other arm – but there’s absolutely no reason why you couldn’t make it by hand – instructions below. 

We rarely eat plain white bread so I’ve used a mixture of flours in this recipe but feel free to use 450g of strong white flour if you can’t find granary bread flour or strong brown flour. Doves Farm do a Mixed Grain Malthouse Bread Flour that I pick up locally at Horan’s Health Store in Mitchelstown.

This is also good with other dried fruit and spices: I often use sultanas and our Christmas morning bread was a dried cranberry and mixed spice variation, especially good with the Green Saffron spice blend for A Winter’s Ale. 

Milk – 300mls
Strong bread flour – 250g
Granary bread flour or strong brown flour – 200g
Ground cinnamon – 1 tablespoon
Salt – 1 teaspoon
Brown sugar – 2 tablespoons
Butter – 25g
Dried yeast – 1½ teaspoons
Raisins – 140g

Bread machine method: place the ingredients, apart from the raisins, in your machine in the order specified – for me, it’s liquids first, then dry ingredients, as above. Choose the sweet bread setting. When it beeps, add the raisins, and let it work away.

Hand method: for this, your milk needs to be warm – heat it in a pan or the microwave, add the butter so that it melts, and allow the mixture to cool room temperature. Put the flours into a large bowl, add the cinnamon, salt, brown sugar and yeast and whisk to combine. Make a well in the centre of the flour, pour in the warm milk and melted butter, then mix well together.

Allow dough to rest for five minutes, then turn out onto floured worktop and knead until smooth and springy. Press out into a large rectangle, sprinkle over the raisins and knead briefly to distribute the dried fruit. Place back into the cleaned bowl, cover with a damp tea towel or some oiled clingfilm and leave in a warm place for about an hour until doubled in size. (Depending on how warm your house is, this can take much longer. A cosy hot press can help matters but don’t forget that the dough is there!)

Butter a 900g loaf tin. Turn the risen dough out on to a floured surface and pat into a rectangle. Roll up tightly and place, seam side down, into the tin. Cover again with your damp tea towel/oiled clingfilm and leave to rise in a warm place again until doubled in size. Again, this will take approximately an hour.

Preheat your oven to 190°C (180°C fanbake), slash the loaf down the centre with a sharp knife and brush it with water. Bake for 35-40 minutes until brown and well risen.  Check if the loaf is cooked by turning it out of the tin and tapping the base with your knuckles. It should sound hollow. If not, place back in the oven without the tin for another few minutes.

Allow to cool out of its tin on a wire rack. Slicing is easiest when it is cold but irresistible when warm.

Makes 1 loaf.