Not hippie and not healthy: my favourite granola

The granola in the photo above is so good that I just. Can't. Stop. Eating. It. I've been munching it all day, despite swearing this morning that I'd limit myself to one ramekin's worth with milk. (Yes, I eat granola out of a ramekin because it's so unhealthy and it helps me to limit portion size ;) But the ramekin soon turned into two ramekins, plus about umpteen handfuls throughout the day. And now I've ruined my appetite for the lovely Bolognese that's simmering on the stove.

This is my favourite granola recipe. Although I am more likely to make Mark Bittman's version, because it's a little healthier without all the oil and sugar, this is the one I really crave. I printed the recipe off the Gourmet website about eight years ago and I doubt I'll ever let that dog-eared piece of paper go.



The recipe originally comes from the Lord Jeffery Inn in Amherst, Massachussets, and it is a pretty gourmet granola - I think of it as elegant granola, if granola can be elegant? As I was making my elegant granola last night, I was pondering how on earth granola came to be seen as a) health food and b) hippie food. For one, it's categorically NOT healthy with all those oils and sweeteners (hence the ramekin portions), not even the homemade kind (don't get me started on the crap they put in supermarket variety). Secondly, why do we call people 'granola' who wear Birks, eat only vegan organic and burn incense like it's going out of style? Did hippies really eat granola? For some reason muesli make me think hippie much more than granola does, but perhaps granola was the original muesli in North America?

Suffice to say, there is not much point to these thoughts, but perhaps someone can enlighten me.

Almond-Raisin Granola
Adapted from Epicurious.com

Makes about 6 cups

3 cups old fashioned rolled oats
1 cup slivered or flaked almonds
3/4 cup shredded coconut (sweetened or unsweetened)
1/3 cup sesame seeds
5 Tbsp maple syrup or honey
1/4 cup dark brown sugar
1 tsp pure vanilla extract
1/4 cup vegetable or mild olive oil
2 Tbsp warm water
1/2 tsp salt
1 cup golden raisins

Preheat oven to 250 F / 130 C. In a large bowl toss together the oats, almonds, coconut and sesame seeds. In a measuring jug whisk together the maple syrup, brown sugar, oil, water and salt. Pour the syrup mixture over the oats and stir to combine.

Transfer the mixture to a large rimmed baking sheet and spread evenly. Bake until lightly browned, about 1 hour and 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add the raisins and mix everything together. Cool completely before transferring to an airtight container.

Happy Holidays from Let Her Bake Cake

Khalid's chocolate and chestnut bars

The other day I was chatting to a caterer over the phone about my upcoming wedding menu. "So what desserts do you like to eat?" she asked. I don't know about you, but although I spend a huge amount of time thinking about, eating and generally being obsessed by food, I find it really difficult to articulate my likes and dislikes when put on the spot. "Um, peanut butter?" I ventured, conjuring up a mental image of my family and friends clustered around a dessert buffet table, digging into spoonfuls of PB straight from the jar. For some reason when someone asks me what food I like, peanut butter is the first and only thing that ever springs to mind...

Eventually though, I got into the groove and started reeling off some of my favourites. We are planning a Canadian-English fusion menu to celebrate our two countries, so I told her about my love of bread and butter pudding, peach pie, butter tarts, Eton mess and anything with maple. The obvious omission then dawned on me: "I don't really like chocolate. I mean, I like it, but it's never what I would choose for dessert." 



 Except maybe where these bars are concerned. These are amazing. They could turn a take-it-or-leave it chocolate person into a bonafide cocoa lover. They're simply an incredibly dense, fudgy brownie on a digestive base with chestnuts, white chocolate and figs added (though I used prunes). Really, you could add anything though. I didn't find the chestnuts necessary and would probably swap in more prunes next time. You won't be seeing these at my wedding, but I'm sure you'll see them in my kitchen again soon.

*A note of warning. The batter will be very, very wobbly when you take these out of the oven and you will think they are massively underdone. You will be tempted to leave them in for longer. Don't. Once you let them cool overnight (in the fridge for part of the time) they will be perfectly set and perfectly fudgy the next day.

Khalid's Chocolate and Chestnut Bars
From Ottolenghi: The Cookbook

Topping:
225 g dark chocolate
150 g unsalted butter, diced
2 eggs
1 egg yolk
45 g caster sugar
120 g cooked peeled chestnuts, roughly chopped (these are available in tins)
120 g dried figs or prunes, roughly chopped
120 g white chocolate, roughly chopped
cocoa powder for dusting

Base:
190 g digestive biscuits
90 g unsalted butter, melted

Preheat the oven to 150 C / 300 F. Lightly grease a 20cm / 8in square pan and line with parchment paper or foil. A pan with a removable bottom is a good option here.

Place the biscuits in a large bowl and crush with hands or a rolling pin. Add the melted butter and mix in to make a sandy paste. Scatter this mixture into the tin and press down hard to make an even base. Leave in the fridge to set.

Meanwhile, put the dark chocolate and butter in a bowl set over a pan of simmering water, and leave to melt, stirring occasionally. Remove from the heat.

Use an electric mixer to whisk the eggs, egg yolk and sugar together until thick and pale. Then with a spoon, fold the chocolate mixture in followed by the chestnuts, figs and white chocolate. Spread evenly over the biscuit base and bake in the centre of the oven for 15 to 20 minutes, until the surface is completely dry but a skewer inserted in the centre comes out with lots of gooey crumbs clinging to it. Remove from the oven, leave to cool, then refrigerate for a few hours until set. Cut into bars and dust with cocoa powder before serving.

An American in Paris: Sugarplum Cake Shop

My parents and sister sped off to Paris on the Eurostar on Friday morning. This means I can finally post this long overdue entry on my blog. Allow me to explain...

My sister and I are, er, competitive, to put it bluntly. Don't get me wrong, we're the best of friends, but we also maintain a rather childlike (OK, completely immature) rivalry when it comes to parental privilege, particularly around the issue of travel and who-got-to-go-where. Typically it would go something like: "No fair, Mum took you to Italy to watch the figure skating and she didn't take me anywhere!" I swear, my sister still holds a grudge that I went on one more trip to Europe when we were teenagers than she did. (Yes... I am aware that we sound like spoiled brats :)

So last November when my parents and I went to Paris for a few days, there were murmurs of, "Ooh, we'd better not tell Ele we've all been to Paris together without her". We managed to keep this little secret for a year, people. I was quite proud of this feat of deception, so it was actually a bit of a disappointment when she did recently find out. There was virtually no reaction at all! I guess we're becoming more mature in our old age.



Anyway, onto Paris. My parents always stay in this hotel in the quartier latin when they visit Paris. And last year we discovered the most delightful bakery and cake shop right across the street. Sugarplum Cake Shop feels like the least French place in Paris - it's an American bakery (though there are Canadians and Scots involved in the venture too, from the accents I heard) serving authentic US-style treats and producing very impressive couture cakes, too.

The bakery itself is warm and cozy, with a nice selection of specialty teas and cakes. The signage and the service were both in English (I'd be shocked to hear French in this place, to be honest!). And if you're a Martha fan, there are stacks of Martha Stewart Living lying around, to provide cake inspiration.



There's lots going on at Sugarplum - when we were there one of the owners was in the middle of a wedding cake consultation with a bride at a nearby table, and you can see through the shop's back door into the action in their next door bakery. Oh, there's also free Wifi.

Most impressive about this place, though, were the cakes on display. Obviously I don't know what they tasted like, but the wedding cake in the window was gorgeous (see below for proof) and the bakers clearly have a sense of humour - check out the hilarious Halloween-theme they had going on. A jack-o-lantern throwing up candy - genius!



Sugarplum Cake Shop
68 rue Cardinal Lemoine
75005 Paris
Metro stop: Cardinal Lemoine

Nigella's marmalade pudding cake

As a kid I was a pretty picky eater. My sister was a seriously picky eater, so in comparison I probably didn't seem that bad, but there was still a reasonably lengthy catalogue of no-go foods that needed to be worked around at mealtimes. Obviously my tastebuds have matured, and most of those once-verboten foods I've learned to love. Nuts? Love 'em! Zucchini? Loooove it. Fresh coriander? Love love LOVE it!

There are a few foods I'm never going to come around to, though. I have a pretty complicated relationship with cheese - I enjoy it in some guises, but anything too creamy or too smelly or too cheesy is just bleurgh. Mayonnaise will never, ever pass my lips. And I still don't like marmalade.

I grew up in a house filled with marmalade. I mean it wasn't like you opened a cupboard and jars of marmalade came tumbling out on top of you, but my parents are serious marmalade eaters and I remember the yearly bulk purchase of Seville oranges in order to produce the next year's batch. The practice continues to this day, and I still don't exactly relish the hot, orange fugginess of a kitchen that has become Marmalade Central.

But while I wouldn't deign to spread some hot, buttered toast with a spoonful of the stuff, I will readily admit that marmalade contributes a certain something to dessert. Like the best flavour of oranges, but deeper and more orangey. And it works especially well in this Nigella pudding. Fresh out of the oven this is a soft, sort of cakey thing, kind of like the traditional British steamed sponge. The next day it's much more solid and cake-like, and that's how we polished off the leftovers, in big hunks alongside a cup of tea. A two-in-one dessert - what's not to love?

Marmalade Pudding Cake
From Kitchen by Nigella Lawson

Serves 6 to 8

250 g soft unsalted butter, plus some for greasing
75 g caster or granulated sugar
75 g light brown sugar
150 g marmalade, plus 75 g for the glaze
225 g flour
1/2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp baking powder
4 eggs
zest and juice of 1 orange (reserve half the juice for the glaze)

Preheat the oven to 350 F / 180 C, and butter a 24cm / 9in ovenproof dish. Put the 75 g marmalade and juice of half the orange into a small pan and set aside to make a glaze later.

Put all the other ingredients into a food processor, process them until just well combined, and then scrape the batter into the buttered dish, smoothing the top. (If you’re not using a processor, cream the butter and both sugars in a mixer, beat in the marmalade followed by the dry ingredients, then the eggs and finally the orange zest and juice.)

Bake in the centre of the oven for about 40 minutes, until the pudding is risen and golden and a cake tester comes out mostly clean. Remove from the oven and set aside to cool a little. Meanwhile warm the glaze mixture in the pan until melted together, then paint the top of the pudding. Serve alongside custard or cream.