Jammy Chicken

GF Chocolate Cupcakes.

I am slowly getting the hang of gluten-free baking, after some true disasters. I'll spare you - they were ugly with a capital U. There are some big issues with gluten-free baking. It is quite frustrating that cakes, cookies and whatnot can be so dry. Those non-gluten flours just don't have the same luscious moistness of wheat, and baked goods go stale in a blink.

Nothing quite as disappointing as biting into a dry, sawdust-like lump.

I've snooped around the interwebs and found a few different approaches to dealing with this - adding fruit in some form to moisten the mixture, adding lots of eggs or fat to give it a better texture.

Eating stuff fast.

One interesting tactic is to use food-grade glycerine. I don't see this on any US websites, but I found a UK cookbook that uses it (at TJ Maxx of all places). Glycerine, by the way, comes from vegetable oil, and while you may be more used to seeing it in beauty products, it is also used in royal icing or fondant to give a good texture and smoothness.

Exactly the same reason why we put it on our face, actually.

Being a bit of an experimentalist, I decided to give it a try. I had some food-grade glycerine lying around, I think for some misguided desire to make fondant that never  came about. My recipe is based on one from the 2010 United Kingdom Gluten-Free Chef of the Year Michael McCamley ...nope, I'd never heard of him or Gluten-Free Chef of the Year before, either. I hope they gave him a spiffy crown or something.

I used a flour mix from GFG&C, because I had that mixed up already, instead of the flour mix from the book (cunningly named Gluten Free Baking, and with a very luxurious gold gleaming cover. I like me a swanky book cover.) My mix has 200 g sorgum, 200 g millet, 300 g sweet rice and 300 g potato starch, btw.

These babies were nice and chocolatey, baked up into a shapely dome, had a moist texture, and almost miraculously stayed fresh for a good 4 days.

4 days! Un-freakin-believable.

You can find food-grade glycerine at cooking supply stores or online. If they sell it in a drugstore in the vicinity of the bandages, it ain't food grade, people.

Feel free to add up to 1/2 cup of chopped nuts if that floats your boat.

Chocolate Cupcakes, gluten-free.

Makes 12.

1 cup granulated sugar
1/2 teaspoon food-grade glycerine*
1 1/2 sticks butter, at room temperature
4 eggs
2/3 cup gluten-free unsweetened cocoa powder
1 1/3 cups gluten-free flour
1 1/4 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon xanthan gum

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line a 12-cup muffin tin with cupcake liners, or grease and flour the bejeasus out of it (GF baking sticks like a mofo).

Beat together the sugar, glycerine and butter in a large bowl until creamed and fluffy.

Mix the eggs in one at a time, beating well between each egg.

Sift the cocoa powder and remaining dry ingredients into the bowl, and mix gently together.

(Here's where to add the nuts if you want.)

Bake in the preheated oven for 25 to 30 minutes, or until the muffins spring back when gently pressed. Remove the cupcakes and cool on a wire rack.

Store in a sealed container for up to 4 days.

Glutney, and November already.

Yikes. November already.

I had this whole list of things to do in October, and I got none of them done.

Nada. Zip. Zilch.

Nuffin.

That's just the way it is sometimes, and it is one of those times.

I am slowly working my way through the very alluring salt sugar smoke by Diana Henry. The British cover is here, and the American here - I like the plump and mouth-wateringly tart cherries burst open and strewn across the page of the rumtopf or bachelor's jam recipe featured on the American version best.

I got a lovely email from Ms. Henry, who aptly surmised that I like a little tipple now and again, and directed me to head straight to the booze section of her book.

She was not mistaken.

I have apricots in muscat and pear ratafia lined up for some much anticipated kitchen dabbling this weekend.

I made up a batch of chutney before I headed out to New Jersey in a race with Sandy to see who would arrive first. Hugh's affectionately named glutney recipe is a lifesaver when the garden is heaving with veg, or in this case, lots of tomatoes rescued before the first killing frost sitting on the counter threatening to turn to slime before they get even remotely ripe. Add in one butternut squash, bits and bobs of dried fruits (sultanas a.k.a. golden raisins, regular old raisins, dried currants), some cider vinegar and a gigantic pot to hold it all, and 4 hours of slow simmering later I had 5 pints of glorious tart, sharp chutney. I am keenly observing the jars as they sit and mellow on the shelf.

I am making the last tweaks on gluten-free chocolate cupcakes and almond flour carrot muffins, which will be ready to share soon. Until then, the chutney in action.

Zucchini Bread = Courgette Cake.

Now's the time when we're all awash in squash.

Zucchini or courgettes: no matter what you call them, dealing with the abundance is becoming a crisis.

My tricks:

1. pick 'em while they are small, no more than hand length.

This hopefully stops them from morphing into a giant menacing vegetal club of hulk-like proportions ...a thought that keeps most gardeners up in fear at night.

Those giant squash are called 'marrows' in the UK.

They've only got one word - courgette - for all kinds of squash, but a whole separate word for a squash that got too big. Clearly it is a pressing long-term issue when your language develops a whole different word to describe giant squash.

It's not always possible to catch 'em young and tender, as inevitably one sneaky squash succeeds in hiding until it hits that giant vegetable stage, at which point you might as well go for a laugh and give the world record a run for its money.

2. Slice them thin, coat them in flour, and fry them in bacon fat.

Mmmmm. Bacony crispy squash. Very tasty and a great way to make a healthy vegetable sorta bad for you. But so bacony good.

3. Make cake.

Cake makes everything better, and if you stockpike it in the freezer, you may even enjoy it, after the painful memories of squash overload fade from your mind, in, oh, January.

This version, though one of the million [make that 29.8 million] floating around out there, features whole grain spelt flour and has a secret ingredient that really brings out the flavor - orange extract. You could add a tablespoon of orange zest if you don't have any, but the orange extract really gives you a huge hit of flavor, unlike zest which seems to fade away on baking. The extract isn't cheap, but it lasts forever in the fridge and is useful in lots of stuff - I love it in cheesecakes, too.

In the US we call this Zucchini Bread, but it's really not all that bready in the traditional bread sense. It is a quick bread-type recipe, no yeast, no kneading, no rising. In the UK it would be called a loaf or cake.

In honor of all things British this summer, I'm rebranding this Courgette Cake, which makes it sound exotic, but should in no way imply it is any less applicable as a breakfast food.

Cake for breakfast sounds wicked, but really you're eating your veggies, so go on!

You can use green squash (aka zucchini if you differentiate) or yellow squash, or squash of any size or shape or color. The yellow squash blend in better if you are trying to sneak some veg into the diet of, say, a visiting teenager who claims to not like squash, but willingly ate this anyway.

Thus proving that cake really does make everything better.

Make with either chocolate chips, loaf on right and slices on left, or pecans with cinnamon sugar sprinkle, loaf on left and slice on right. Serve with Fresh Apricot Jam.

Courgette Cake, alias Zucchini Bread.
My starting point was from Bon Appetit, Y'All by Virginia Willis, with some modifications for whole grains, increased volume of squash and nuts, adding chocolate chips, ginger and olive oil, no cinnamon, and my secret ingredient of orange extract. Oh, and I gave you some gram measurements. Other than that, it was exactly the same.

3 and a half cups* white spelt flour (420 grams at 120 grams per cup)
3/4 cups raw or unrefined sugar (150 grams)
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon powdered ginger
3 large eggs
1/2 cup canola oil
1/2 cup light tasting olive oil
1 tablespoon orange extract
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
4 zucchini or yellow squash (6 to 8 inches long), grated (about 2 to 3 cups)
1 1/2 cups chopped pecans or mini chocolate chips

*measure with dip and sweep method.

2 tablespoons of sugar plus 1 teaspoon cinnamon for sprinkling on top (optional)

You will need two, 8 by 5 inch loaf pans, or 4, 4.5 by 2.5 inch mini loaf pans, greased or sprayed with nonstick baking spray.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

Whisk the spelt flour, sugar, salt, baking powder, baking soda and powdered ginger in a large mixing bowl until completely combined.

In a smaller bowl, whisk the eggs together, then add the oils (or use all canola or all olive oil), orange extract and vanilla extract and whisk until combined.

Add the liquid mixture to the dry mix, and stir gently until most of the flour is absorbed. Add the squash and nuts or chocolate and mix until just combined.

Note: I like to divide the batter in half and add nuts to half and chocolate chips to the other half, making two different kinds of bread for almost no effort.

Equally distribute into the prepared loaf pans, sprinkle with additional sugar and spice for a nicely glazed and crispy top if you prefer.

Bake until the top is brown and a toothpick tester comes out clean, about 1 hour for the larger loaf size and 35 to 40 minutes for the smaller loaf size..

Stores for up to a week on the counter in an airtight container, or freezes for up to 6 months.

Keeping it real.

Sometimes, it's all about your vantage point.

Take this, for example.

It looks like a cake.

It smells like a cake.

It tastes...

...well, it tastes like a vanilla-flavored eraser.

Which is not quite as bad as you might imagine, actually.

So much for trying to make Elvis's favorite pound cake out of whole grain flours.

I am sure Elvis would not approve.

But hey, if you're going to screw up, you might as well own it.

Name it and claim it, people.

In honor of Friday the 13th, what's the worst luck you've had in the kitchen?

Dehydrated Strawberries.

I got a dehydrator last year to preserve some of the lovely herbs I was growing in the garden. It seemed frivolous at the time, but fun.

I like fun frivolity.

However, it has proven to be incredibly useful and unexpectedly practical. You need the right tool for the job, my mom always says, and this is the tool for drying stuff out.

Buckets of tomatoes went through last year. Basil. Mint.

Kale.

Kale dries like a dream but absolutely reeks. That whiff of funky kale-y smell you get when cooking it? Times a hundred. No, times a million.

Ick.

We woke up after leaving kale to dry overnight and wondered who had attacked our kitchen with chemical warfare.

No more dried kale.

This year, I'm busting out the dehydrator for strawberries.

Mountains of strawberries are reduced to intense strawberry essence.

The last batch started off with 1530 g and came out of the dehydrator weighing in at 370 g: a net weight reduction of  75 %.

These are not crispy crackly, but still soft and pliable.

Dry but squidgy. They will not make that halo of pink mush in your baked goods like fresh strawberries do.

I am thinking scones. Muffins. Cakes.

Granola.

Eating out of hand like popcorn.

Because they are not completely dried, they are not shelf-stable and do need to be kept in the refrigerator or freezer for long-term storage. Since they reduce in volume so dramatically, this is easy to accomplish. I pack a large mason jar full, but plastic bags or containers would work just as well.

Dehydrated Strawberries.
Make as many as you want.

You will need a food dehydrator or a low oven. (Full disclosure: I have not tried the oven version, but Paul Virant lists it as an alternative to the dehydrator in his book The Preservation Kitchen.)

Gently rinse the strawberries and allow to air dry. Remove the stem and hull from each berry. Quarter berries larger than 1 1/2 inches (ca. 4 cm), and halve berries larger than 3/4 inch (2 cm). For berries smaller than 1/2 inch (1.25 cm), leave whole.

Arrange the berries cut sides up on dehydrator racks or cookie sheets lined with nonstick baking liners. Set the dehydrator or oven to 135 degrees F, and dry the strawberries until they have shrunk to about half their original size but are still pliable - this will take about 8 hours in a dehydrator and 4 in an oven.

Store the berries in the refrigerator for a week or in the freezer for up to a year.

Babycakes Donuts as Vegan Cocoa-Glazed Mini Cupcakes.

First, my work office flooded and destroyed my computer and everything on my desk.

Then, I was called for jury duty.

Then, I found a plagairized student paper, and his paper gave me a paper cut and I bled all over.

And that was just Monday to Wednesday.

Clearly, this was a week to find me sobbing on the sofa, desperately needing some seriously comforting comfort food. 

Chocolate was required.

No arguments, no compromises, no substitutions.

Absolutely. Positively. Necessary.

Except that the week was already so toxic, I didn't want to pile on more internal poison above and beyond the already pretty highly mounded external catastrophes exploding all around.

What's a poor, traumatized gal to do?

Besides, obviously, sitting and weeping as the smallest violin in the world plays a sad song just for me.

What I needed was action! Something to get my mind off the crappy week and pointed in a more positive direction - a direction that had cupcakes. Lots of cupcakes. Lots of tiny cupcakes. Lots of tiny chocolate coated cupcakes.

But healthy, tiny chocolate coated cupcakes.

By healthy, I mean healthy. H-E-A-L-T-H-Y.

Gluten-free. Grain-free. Processed sugar-free. Dairy-free. Egg-free. And vegan.

Nothing but healthy in these tiny tasty chocolate coated cupcakes.

Yes, that was a good direction to be headed, I think we can all agree.

And you know what?

First, I got a new computer. A super-fast spiffy shiny new computer.

Plus, I was dismissed from the jury. And they paid me a whole whopping $32 for my trouble.

The plagairized paper, that's still an issue. 

But hey, the paper cut healed up nicely.

And I ate lots of tiny chocolate coated cupcakes.

So many I felt kinda sick, actually.

At least now I feel bad for all the right reasons, and that's something.

Vegan Vanilla Mini Cupcakes with Cocoa Glaze.
Modified from Babycakes Covers the Classics by Erin McKenna.
Here's the original donut recipe, and here's a variation for vanilla icing, if you are so inclined.

Makes 30 mini-cupcakes and 1 3/4 cups glaze.

For the cupcakes:
1 cup coconut sugar
3/4 cup brown rice flour
1/3 cup garbanzo and fava bean flour
1/2 cup potato starch
1/4 cup arrowroot
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon xanthan gum
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
1/8 teaspoon baking soda
1/3 cup canola oil
6 tablespoons applesauce
1/4 cup vanilla extract
1/2 cup hot water 

For the cocoa glaze:
1/2 cup coconut milk
1/3 cup agave nectar
1/3 cup soy milk powder
2 tablespoons cocoa powder: 1 tablespoon black cocoa and 1 tablespoon dutch cocoa
3/4 cup melted refined coconut oil 
1 teaspoon lemon juice

You will also need 3, 12-cupcake mini-cupcake pans and a food processor.

For the cupcakes:

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F. Use coconut or canola oil spray to grease 3, 12-cup mini-cupcake trays and set aside.

In a medium bowl, mix together the coconut sugar, flours, potato starch, arrowroot, baking powder, baking soda, xanthan gum and salt. Gently break up any lumps in the coconut sugar.

In a small bowl, mix the canola oil, applesauce and vanilla extract until combined. Add the hot water and mix again.

Add the wet ingredients to the bowl of dry ingredients, and mix well with a rubber spatula until thoroughly combined.

Using a small ice cream scoop or spoon, drop a little less than 1 tablespoon of cupcake batter into each cup. There should be enough batter for about 30 mini-cupcakes.

Bake for 7 minutes, then rotate the trays in the oven and bake for an additional 6 to 7 minutes, or until a toothpick tester comes out with few crumbs, and the cupcakes look dry and golden.

Let cool in the cupcake pan for 15 minutes, then remove to a cooling rack and cool completely.

For the cocoa glaze:

Note: All of the ingredients need to be at room temperature.

Combine the coconut milk, agave nectar, soy milk powder, cocoa, and vanilla in a food processor. With the processor running, add 1/2 cup of the coconut oil in a slow, steady stream. Add the lemon juice, then add the remaining coconut oil. Continue to process for another minute until the cocoa glaze is thick and creamy.

If the liquid ingredients are too cold, the coconut oil will solidify instead of blending, and you will have lots of white streaks in your cocoa glaze. Don't panic. Just take about 1/3 cup of the separated glaze and warm it in a microwave for about 10 to 20 seconds until the coconut oil melts, and then pour this warmed cocoa liquid slowly back into the processor while it is running. This should re-homogenize your glaze mixture. Allow the glaze to cool to room temperature for 10 to 15 minutes. Before using, stir gently.

Now, assemble the mini-cupcakes in all their glory by gently dipping the top of each cold cupcake in the cocoa glaze. Allow the glaze to set at room temperature. Store the cupcakes at room temperature. Best within a day.

This recipe makes more glaze than necessary for the mini-cupcakes. The glaze should not be refrigerated or it will solidify like a brick. It will keep at room temperature for 4 or 5 days in a tightly sealed container.

Seville Orange Marmalade Cake.

Let's be completely honest here, shall we?

This is not a looker of a cake.

If it were a she, and she were walking down the street, no-one would wolf-whistle.

I doubt she'd really even get a second look.

She's not a glamazon, sugar-bomb, over-the-top confectionary flight-of-fancy.

But don't discount her for that, because it's a feature, not a flaw.

She's an honest, approachable kind of cake. Suitable for all occasions, not just super-fancy frosting-laden affairs. Not that she can't handle a super-fancy, frosting-laden affair, mind you.

She's just understated, that's all.

If she were your friend, she'd be the one you call first with good news, and bad. The one who volunteers to drive you to the airport at 4 am. The one who makes you laugh so hard you can't breathe.

She's just a really good cake, she is. So don't hold her lack of exotic looks against her, because she makes up for it with character. Lots of orange marmaladey character.

For those of us who make jam, we're always on the quest for recipes to use that jam. And jelly. And preserves. And marmalade. Because, you see, our goal in life is to make more jam. And in order to make more jam, we need to use the current jam up, to make more space, free up more jars. So we can make more jam.

It's a vicious, never-ending circle of obsessive-compulsive preserving.

I am sure there's a self-help group out there somewhere. But I can stop any time. Really, I can.

This cake is a holy grail of using the preserves - three-quarters of a cup of marmalade in it, more on it. That's a whole jar gone. Plus you get a really great cake out of it.

So, bust this baby out for an afternoon snack. She's great with tea or coffee. After dinner, as a not overly sweet nibble. Breakfast, even. I mean, it's got orange marmalade in it, and that uses oranges, and so does orange juice, and orange juice is for breakfast, so there you go. Am I right or am I right?

Seville Orange Marmalade Cake.
Based on a recipe from the incomparable Darina Allen's Forgotten Skills of Cooking.

350 g self-rising flour
150 g butter, plus more for greasing the tin
150 g sugar
generous 3/4 cup orange marmalade* 
2 eggs
1/4 cup milk
hearty pinch of salt
powdered sugar for dusting (optional) 

You will need a 6 inch diameter, 3 inch high cake tin or springform pan, and a scale. 

* If the marmalade has coarse shreds, pop it in a food processor and give it a whiz, or chop by hand.

Note: I measured dry ingredients by weight, which I find faster and more accurate. There are internet sites that offer conversions based on ingredient, but I find them infuriatingly inconsistent. That truly irks the scientist in me. If you have the option, go for the scale. I can't guarantee success with a dodgy conversion.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F, and grease the tin (or use cooking spray).

Rub the butter into the flour and salt until the mixture is crumbly and the butter is incorporated, then add the sugar and mix. 

In a separate bowl, whisk the eggs and marmalade until combined, then stir in the milk. Add the liquid ingredients to the dry ingredients, and mix until just combined. This will make a robust, spoonable batter.

Scrape into the cake tin, smooth the top, and bake in the oven for 75 minutes until the top is browned and a cake tester comes out with only a few crumbs.

Leave to cool on a wire tray, and when ready to serve, dust the top with powdered sugar and eat with a generous slather of marmalade.

Keeps well for several days in an airtight container. Can be frozen for longer storage.

Wine-Poached Peach and Almond Tart.

This is a multi-step, multi-component recipe, so it is not to be undertaken on a whim and finished in a flash.

Instant gratification, not found here. But don't see that as a drawback, rather it is a bonus.

It is quite a perfect winter dessert (or breakfast, I dare say), in that winter is never really the time of instant gratification, anyway. Breezy summer is when you want to throw something together in a snap, staying away from fuss and complexity, flitting from thought to completion in the blink of an eye.

Winter is for planning, organizing, meticulous attention to detail. No siren song of sweet breeze is calling you out, distracting you with promises. Instead, there is time for thoughtful preparation. Peaceful enjoyment of simple and honest ingredients. Creating something rustic but meaningful and satisfying.

Taking joy in the process.

The process of making this tart is a delight. Basic ingredients transform themselves into a grand design, where each part comes together to become a whole that is so much more than the mere sum of the individual components.

This tart, it is is not overly sweet or cloying. The only sweetness comes from the dried, then wine-plumped, peaches. It is sturdy and robust, what one needs in these wintry days. It glows with a sunny golden radiance, bringing cheer to short hours. Rememberances of this tart will linger with you through hectic, busy days of summer until you again have time to enjoy the process of taking time.

Wine-poached Peach and Almond Tart.
Serves 8 to 10.

Inspired by an apricot tart recipe in Canal House Cooking vol. 3 by Christopher Hirsheimer and Melissa Hamilton.

Makes one 9-inch tart. Requires a 9-inch, removable bottom, fluted tart pan, a rolling pin, and a food processor.

For the Peaches.
1 1/2 cups dried peach halves (about 10 to 12 halves)
2 cups white wine, such as savinion blanc
2/3 cup granulated sugar
zest and juice from 1 clementine
1 mace blade

For the Crust.
2 cups flour
2 tablespoons granulated sugar
12 tablespoons (1 1/2 stick) cold unsalted butter, cut into pieces
1 egg
a pinch of salt 

For the Almond Filling.
3/4 cup blanched or slivered almonds (skins removed)
3/4 cup powdered sugar
2 tablespoons flour
8 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into pieces
1 egg
1 egg yolk
2 teaspoons vanilla extract

Poach the peaches by putting the wine, granulated sugar, clementine zest and juice, and mace blade in a small saucepan and bring to the boil. Stir until the sugar dissolves, then add the dried peaches and turn down to a gentle simmer. Cover, and simmer for 20 minutes, until the peaches have plumped up lightly. Let the peaches cool in the syrup. Peaches can be stored in the refrigerator, in the poaching syrup, for up to a week. When ready to proceed, strain the peaches.

Reserve the syrup for another use, such as a flavoring for sparkling water, sweetener for tea, light drizzle for ice cream, or flavorful soak for pound cake.

Prepare the crust by whisking the flour, sugar and salt together in a large mixing bowl. Use your fingers (this is the time to enjoy the process) to work the butter into the flour until it has the texture of cornmeal. Add the egg, begin to mix with a fork, and then press the dough together until all the crumbs are combined into a shaggy mass.

Empty onto a clean, floured counter and press the dough into a rough disk. Use a rolling pin to shape the dough into a 1/4 inch thick disk slightly larger than the tart pan. Transfer the dough to the tart pan, press evenly across the bottom and up the sides, trim any excess dough from the top edge, and fill any holes or cracks that may have formed.

Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least an hour, or overnight.

To make the almond filling, grind the almonds in a food processor until they are the texture of coarse sand. Toast the ground almonds in a skillet over medium-low heat for 3 or 4 minutes, until they become fragrant and just begin to brown. Stir constantly. They will go from pale to toasted in an instant, so watch carefully.

Remove the skillet from the heat and stir in the powdered sugar, then set aside to cool.

While the almonds cool, about 10 minutes, preheat the oven to 400 degrees F.

When the almonds are cooled, return them to the food processor. Add the butter, egg and egg yolk, and vanilla, and process until the filling is smooth. It will smell divinely of the best possible smells you could imagine.

Spread the almond filling in the prepared crust, and arrange the peaches on top, gently placing them in a pretty design. Bake the tart until the filling is toasty brown and puffed around the apricots, about 45 minutes.

Allow the tart to cool and the filling to set. Serve at room temperature.

Cornish Saffron Cakes.

These craggy and fruit-enriched drop scones gain a sunny yellow glow and a mysteriously exotic nuance from a pinch of saffron, which makes then both sweet and savory at the same time.

They can robustly support sweet spreads such as jam or lime curd, but can just as easily be taken to the savory side with a good slice of sharp cheese and some tomato and basil jam or tomato chutney. 

 

The sweet side with lime curd and a proper cup of tea. The savory side with yellow cherry tomato and basil jam, black pepper asiago cheese, and a side of cornichons.

Cornish Saffron Cakes.
After a recipe from Marguerite Patten's Best British Dishes.
Takes about 20 minutes of active time, and makes 10 drop cakes.

2 cups of self-rising flour*
2/3 cup unsulphered dried apricots, chopped into 1-cm sized pieces
1/3 cup currants
2/3 cup milk (or more if necessary)
1 large egg
1/2 cup cold butter, cut into cm-sized chunks
1/2 cup sugar
pinch of saffron salt, or plain salt
pinch of saffron (optional)

 * You can make self-rising flour by adding 2 teaspoons of baking powder to all-purpose flour.

You will need a strainer, two baking sheets and baking paper, or extra butter to grease the baking sheets.

Turn the oven on to 400 F and position two racks in the upper third and lower third of the oven.

If the apricots and currants are hard, as dried fruit often can be, place them in a bowl and cover with warm water to plump them up a little.

Heat the milk until it is just warm to the touch (about 10 seconds in a microwave) and add the saffron.

Let the saffron milk and fruit (if plumping) sit for 20 minutes. Immediately before proceeding with the rest of the recipe, drain the fruit in a strainer and allow to drip until you need it.

Mix the self-rising flour and salt in a bowl, and rub in the butter until it is broken down to pea-sized pieces. This takes just a few minutes. 

Add the strained fruit to the dry ingredients and use a fork to gently mix together and break up any fruity lumps.

Strain the saffron milk to remove the saffron threads if you'd like, then beat in the egg until well combined. Add this to the dry ingredients and fruit, and mix gently until just combined. The batter should be spoonable but stiff enough to retain its shape when scooped.

Spoon out approximately 1/2 cup sized rough mounds of dough. Leave the surface craggy. I used one spoon to scoop the dough, and a second to gently slide the lump of dough off the spoon and onto the prepared baking sheet. Space about 2 or 3 inches apart. You will need two baking sheets.

Bake for 20 to 22 minutes, until the upper craiggy surface is starting to brown, and rotate trays at the 10-minute mark.

Remove from the oven, cool for a few minutes on the baking tray, then transfer to a wire rack to continue cooling.

These are very delectable warm, and are also very good when cool.

Store in an air-tight container and eat within 3 or 4 days. Can be frozen.

Coconut flour to have your cake and detox too.

I am starting to develop an involuntary twitch from the massive ammount of sugar I've been ingesting over the holiday season. I know sugar is bad. I can't help myself, I keep going back for more.

Sugar is an evil tormentor. 

And yet, one of my fitness magazines calmly says that realistically speaking, my goals this time of year should be to fend off the dreaded holiday bulge.

Well then, as long as we're being frank.

Realistically speaking, I want a piece of cake.

Coconut flour cake, a nourishing alternative to refined flour and sugar.

From my new obsession for healthy living.

In theory, if not in practice. Yet. Obviously.

This cake is a remarkable love child of dense pound cake texture and custard flavor, with a hit of honey and vanilla. Protein- and fiber-rich coconut flour. You'll feel like you are doing a world of good by eating this cake.

It will make you virtuous, even. Which is something this time of year.

So do yourself a favor: eat cake.

Don't make me tell you again, you hear me?

Coconut flour cake.
Adapted from Nourished Kitchen. Makes one 8 1/2 inch loaf pan, 8 inch cake or 8 to 9 inch pie plate 'o' cake.
I like the wedges. I am funny that way.

6 eggs
1 cup coconut milk (I used this)
1 cup coconut flour, plus 1 tablespoon for flouring the pan
1/3 cup honey
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
coconut oil or vegetable oil for greasing the pan

Honey Syrup

1/4 cup honey
2 tablespoons water
1 teaspoon vanilla 

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

Grease and flour the pan, then set aside.

Beat the eggs, coconut milk and honey with the vanilla extract until smooth and frothy.

Add the coconut flour, baking soda and salt, and mix until a smooth and firm batter forms.

Spoon the batter into the pan or tin, smooth the top with the back of a spoon, or make rustic swirls.

Bake for about 40 minutes, until the cake is beginning to brown on top and a toothpick tester comes out clean.

While baking, make the honey syrup by mixing all the ingredients together.

When the cake comes out of the oven, let it cool for a few minutes, then use a toothpick or skewer to poke holes about 1 inch apart across the entire top of the cake. Pour the syrup over, and let it soak into the cake as it cools completely.

Tuck in, and feel justifiably good about yourself.

Warm pear and maple syrup cake with hazelnuts.

Crisp citrusy snap or cool and creamy honey overtones, choose your favorite taste and there's a pear for you. Combine that with hazlenuts and maple syrup, and you've got a cake made to celebrate fall flavors.

Now is the time to indulge your pear fixation, and collect a veritable plethora of pear types. I went for an assortment of textures and tastes, some crisp, some soft, sweet and creamy, honey and citrus.

Red Bartlett, Starkrimson and green D'Anjou.

This cake is a severly modified version of a warm pear cake from Nigel Slater, found in his latest cookbook Tender and online at his weekly newspaper column in the Observer. Nigel's unfussy, unstuffy recipes are always inspiring and deeply satisfying. He seems like the kinda guy who would willingly and cheerfully help wash the dishes after your dinner party. And maybe even pour you another glass of wine as you lolled around while he worked.

Maple syrup is not a flavor you usually associate with the British, so I was surprised to see it in a British-origin recipe. For us North American-ers it is truly and inexorably linked with fall, and works smashingly with pears, adding a sweet mellow and earthy background. The cake preparation has you gently cook the pears and strew them across a dense cake batter. They then ever so slowly sink into the cake to form a jammy and sticky layer. I upped the maple syrup in the pears and added some to the batter to highlight the maple flavor, and traded the ground almonds for more seasonal and robust hazelnuts.

Warm pear and maple syrup cake with hazlenuts.
With much tweaking from Nigle Slater's original. 

 For the pears:

5 or 6 ripe pears, the same veriety or mixed
3 tablespoons butter
A pinch of allspice
1/4 cup maple syrup

For the cake:

0.8 cups or 1 3/4 sticks of butter
1/2 cup white sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar, packed

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder 
1/2 cup whole hazlenuts, skins on, ground fine

6 large eggs
1/4 cup maple syrup
1 teaspoon vanilla 

Line a 9 1/2 inch diameter springform pan with baking paper and grease the bottom and sides well. Set the oven to 360 degrees F.

Wash, core and chop the pears into small, 1/2 inch sized pieces. Put the butter, pears and allspice in a shallow pan and cook over medium heat for about 10 minutes, until the pears astart to soften.

Add 1/4 cup maple syrup and bring to a boil, then turn to medium-low and continue to cook until most of the liquid has reduced to a sticky glaze. If you have soft and juicy pears, this could take 20 minutes. Stir occasionally but try not to break up the pears more than necessary.

Beat the butter and both sugars in a standing mixer or with a hand mixer until well-combined and fluffy - Nigel says the color of milky coffee, but much British coffee is instant coffee, so this is not necessarily culturally relevant for those of us who do not drink milky instant coffee.

Mix the flour, baking powder and ground hazlenuts in a separate bowl.

Beat the eggs, vanilla and maple syrup together in another bowl.

Add half of the liquid egg mixture  to the butter and sugar, mix until well combined, then add half of the dry flour and nut mixture and incorporate, then the remaining liquid, then the rest of the dry. Try not to over-stir, just enough to get most of the flour mixed in.

Scrape into the prepared baking pan and smooth the top of the batter. Spoon the pears and any remaining syrup over the top (if there's a lot of syrup, say more than a tablespoon or two, don't add it or it will make the cake too wet). The pear layer will sink into the cake batter as it bakes.

Bake for 60 to 75 minutes, until the batter is golden brown and a toothpick inserted into the cakey part comes out with just a few crumbs attached. Start checking early if your oven runs hot.

Serve warm, with vanilla ice cream, whipped cream, or a drizzle of maple syrup.