Old fashioned brownies (cocoa powder only)

My mam baked only now and then when we were young, usually a tray of queen cakes which we would then be invited to cover with royal icing to hide the black spots (sorry mammy), eve’s pudding (remember that?) and the odd ‘cake' of soda bread which was round with a cross on top as distinct from a loaf. 

Of course, there were also the obligatory Rice Krispie buns for parties (or more commonly in our house, cornflake buns which didn't seem quite as exciting at the time). Like most households, the baking centre-piece was the thickly iced Christmas cake which was adorned with the latest in 80s mini Santas and trees and proudly presented each year . 

Brownies only came into my consciousness well into my teenage years and I was instantly a huge fan. This happened to be at the height of my chocolate obsession and their fudgey goodness seemed to offer the perfect antithesis to teenage angst,  unrequited love and all the other desperate things I had to suffer.

Most brownie recipes today seem to contain a good amount of high cocoa percentage chocolate in replacement of some (or all) of the traditional cocoa powder. I've made (very nice) brownies like this on a few occasions but always half resented using up all of my black (70-85 per cent) chocolate like that. With most of the chocolate- heavy recipes requiring a minimum of 70 per cent cocoa solids in the first place, I figured I'd get back to basics for this week's treat for the Roses tub and see if my flittered packet of cocoa powder was up to the job.

It definitely was. These were just as nice as the chocolate-heavy batch I made a couple of weeks ago and I am definitely a convert to going old school on the brownie baking and saving my chocolate for emergencies (they happen!). The addition of a few chopped dates gave some caramel chew and this batch was optimistically cut into 1 inch squares in an attempt to enforce some discipline on this increasingly sugar reliant house.

I am learning slowly that under-cooking really is the key to a delicious fudgey brownie. If you happen to prefer  a cakier texture in yours, I'm sorry,  but we just can't be friends. 

As I said already, we didn't have brownies in our house when we were small but if we had, we would probably have used this recipe which you can find here..

My first go at sourdough

Like so many others, baking is emerging to be a central theme of my lock-down.  As housebound activities go it really is a good one, allowing as it does for some creativity as well as the obvious benefit of enjoying eating what you produce. Furthermore, baking smells are surely the most comforting of all and God knows we could all do with a bit of that right now.

I have made a good deal of naan, pizza bases and soda breads in my time but had only attempted a 'normal' white loaf on two occasions. I am sorry to say that both efforts were dense, tasteless and quickly fired in the bin. However, I am delighted to reveal that I redeemed myself slightly last weekend.  

Sourdough is traditionally risen with what’s known as a 'starter' instead of yeast. This yields a slow rise which also gives the bread its characteristic chewy crust and distinctive tang. In theory, a sourdough starter can be comprised of only flour and water which is then left for several days to allow for natural yeasts in the air to activate the fermentation process. However, my Google search taught me that there are also starter recipes which include live yogurt as an ingredient. This seemed to be a safer bet to me so I went with that option for my first attempt.

                                                           
Day one involved the combination of flour, water and live yogurt into a paste which was then left loosely covered overnight (I read that sealed jars have been known to explode so played it safe on this). More flour was then added on day two and I was delighted to see that there was some definite bubble action going on. By day five it was looking somewhat more active but not nearly as much as I expected. A quick flick through my cookbooks showed me that Rachel Allen is ok with adding instant yeast to her sourdough.  Having at last got my hands on some thanks to my friend Ann, I snuck in a precious sachet feeling like something of a fraud. That did the trick and I actually thought the jar would bubble over.

                                                            
                                                        

I am (very) early on in my bread-making journey but have learned a lot from just this one loaf mainly the fundamental importance of patience.  The recipe advised that the bread would take between 4-8 hours to rise depending on the room temperature. After five hours, there was some definite growth and I could wait no longer. On reflection I should have. My resulting loaf was a bit flat and I knew even before I baked it that it hadn't fulfilled its potential. Though the end result was very tasty and sourdough-like with a fantastic chewy crust it was also rather close in texture and lacking those big distinctive air-holes.

                                                      

However, I now have hope! After this (limited) success, bread-making doesn't seem to be quite as mysterious as before. My (yeast- enhanced) starter is now sleeping in the fridge and apparently all I have to do to revive it is bring it to room temperature and feed it with flour and water before using again (it should be 'fed' weekly). I will absolutely throw in another sachet of instant yeast if necessary to help it along. Sourdough snobs might not approve of that but if I get to have the satisfaction of taking a big fat perfect crusty loaf out of the oven I really couldn't care less. I'll just have to learn to have some patience.

A great naan bread for these yeastless times

I fell in love with Indian food the first time I visited a 'real' Indian restaurant. I especially love the way in which this particular cuisine lends itself so well to the concept of sharing and man, I really really love the naan.

I had intended to order a takeaway this past weekend but on hearing that the (best) local Indian had temporarily closed its doors, I once again turned to the Curry Guy for inspiration. Dan Toombs is a US native who now lives in the UK and has meticulously researched and documented how to create hundreds of authentic Indian and 'British Restaurant Style' curries. For my little curry night, I cooked his chicken tikka masala, saag aloo and chana masala. The first recipe involves several stages and takes a good degree of effort but sure I had a bit of time on my hands and the end result was very good.

Then there was the issue of the naan bread. I'm all for a shortcut at the best of times but would honestly rather do without than eat that strangely sweet, rubbery pre-made naan from the shops. It's just offensive. However, with the recent surge in home-baking during this pandemic, yeast has become almost impossible to find either on supermarket shelves or online. The packet I had in the press was so old it was no longer active so I knew I would have to look for another option.

Luckily, Dan came up with the goods again with this fantastic yeast free recipe. What's even better is that, once proved, it can be made on a hot frying pan in just minutes. I was surprised that it needed proving at all given that it contained no yeast but it is still a crucial part of the dough making process. In place of yeast, he includes Greek yogurt, the bacteria in which raises the dough more slowly over a longer period of time but which gives a very tasty, chewy result.

I cooked up some of the dough after about 12 hours and the remainder 24 hours later. Both batches were delicious (especially when brushed with garlic butter) but I would say the longer proved naan had a slight edge.

I was so happy with this naan bread and would choose to make it again and again over a standard yeast dough. It's so good that I'm actually planning on using the recipe soon to make pizza (minus the nigella seeds). I'd better keep getting those (Government sanctioned) walks in or at this rate I won't be able to get out the door.