The electorate has spoken apparently, or have we?

To go straight to the recipe, avoiding the politics scroll down the page to a yummy sweet mascarpone tart, written with help from a Miss I. Debbonaire of this parish


One of the more irritating cliches being peddled over the last 3 days is that the electorate has spoken, as if we have all got together in a room, thrashed it out amicably (with not a hint of negative campaigning, just everyone being nice) and agreed unanimously that we would vote in such a way as to produce the confusing chaos we are in now. How is that possible? Why would we do that? And yet so many people apparently did, seemingly, get together in a room somewhere in Broxtowe or St Andrews and find some way of controlling the voting system, persuading their friends to vote against their political views, failing to deliver sufficient ballot papers to polling stations in Sheffield, send the wrong postal ballot papers out in Bristol, find some bigot in Rochdale who can pass for a sweet old lady and then set up Gordon Brown to identify her correctly, etc. until we have the results and consequent situation we Brits are in now.




POLITICS FREE PARAGRAPH FOLLOWS
Apologies now to all non Brits and any Brits who aren't convinced that politics has been the most interesting story in town over the last few weeks not days. There will be something else shortly, involving mascarpone tart and my niece Imogen making her first ever pastry (a proud moment for us both, there were tears and photos and then complaints that the tart filling wasn't sweet enough) (or smooth enough - Imogen was not happy that when the smug-market down the road failed to supply ricotta to blend with the mascarpone and we had to make do with organic cottage cheese and a cup of thick cream instead; she correctly concluded that cottage cheese is too gritty).






AND NOW BACK TO THE POLITICS FOR A PARAGRAPH or two or three or seven
Am I alone in thinking that harping on about proportional representation is slightly weird? At least at the moment? At a time of an economic crisis we are all hiding behind the sofa from, increasing animosity towards so-called immigrants stoked up by misinformation, no, let's call a spade a spade, lies and yes, racism (I could be forgiving and call it ignorance but this is my blog so I can call it as I see it), impending back to the future re-runs of the 1980s if the Tories have their hands on the till (sorry, did I say on the till? I meant in the till, that's how you take the money AWAY from POOR people and give it TO the RICH people), why on earth are so many people getting together to demonstrate about our voting system? The Greeks are on the streets about public services and unemployment, we are shouting "what do we want? proportional representation by one of the many possible systems, but probably the Single Transferable Vote! When do we want it? As soon as we can say it quicker!"




Priorities?
Whether or not it needs changing, it seems pretty pointless to change it now, when we have already got the lack of overall majority which would surely result, and apparently that's what the voting reform supporters wanted anyway? The only party that benefits from this will always be the party of the centre, their supporters the only beneficiaries. They came third and that includes all the votes of people who said that they were voting Lib Dem to keep the tories out. Contrary to popular opinion, moving politics to the centre does not inevitably bring about a more representative government. It doesn't represent the interests of the poorer pensioners, the low paid workers, the single mothers, the working families, the worker thrown out of work in a recession. Come to think of it, it doesn't represent the interests of the blindingly rich, the bankers, the workshy shareholders or the premier league footballers but they will probably manage to get by whoever is in power. It represents the views and interests of those who are politically at the centre or those from small fringe parties such as UKIP or the BNP. That's a minority of us. How can that be representative?


First past which post? Where is the post?
Our European colleagues and friends can look on aghast or amused at our quaint system but at least first past the post means that we have local MPs who have to know their constituency in order to win, as they will have had to pound the streets themselves, understand local concerns and also make the case strongly for the electorate in their constituency that their political values best serve the majority of their interests. It also means that we get to vote for who we want - yes it does! I get my ballot paper, and I mark a cross next to the person I want to represent me. If he or she hasn't made the case strongly enough to my neighbours, or is plagued by missing ballot papers or closing polling stations, or if I live in a constituency where most of my neighbours have very different priorities to me, then someone other than the candidate I wanted will get more crosses and she or he will win. She or he will represent the whole constituency and will do so knowing that the majority of her or his constituents will agree with most of the decisions they make. My vote isn't wasted, in my opinion, simply because the person I voted for didn't win. My rights will be wasted, however, if the British National Party gets a foot in the corridors of Westminster, because we have come up with some voting system which allows this.


Some proportional representation systems someone invented earlier
Under proportional representation, I could mark the candidates in order (Alternative Vote) - very difficult for anyone who genuinely doesn't support or share the priorities outlined by most or all of the other candidates - or I have my vote transferred if the candidate I like the most has enough votes to pass a certain quota and win a seat in my area or not enough to stand a chance (not actually my own constituency, my area, from and for which a number of MPs will be chosen) (Single Transferable Vote or STV). Again, lots of us really do not want to have our votes transferred to another party other than the one we are members of or whose principles, priorities and practices we most agree with most of the time or are prepared to argue about. And actually I am not that keen on simply voting for all the candidates from my preferred party in my area - which is what I would personally do - because I want the mixture of party and local representation which our current system gives us. I am not alone.


Can sarcasm dilute the strength of a good argument?
The Electoral Reform Society (http://www.electoral-reform.org.uk/index.php) recommends the STV and amongst the very curious reasons it includes "Candidates don't need a majority of votes to be elected, just a quota, or share of the votes, determined by the size of the electorate and the number of positions to be filled". Don't need a majority of votes to be elected? Then how, pray, are they really representing their electorate? If I am represented by a collection of people, whose constituency surgery do I visit to get my illegal eviction notice dealt with? If it is a group of people, this is highly likely to mean my case gets lost somewhere in the middle, as so often happens in social care organisations without a named key worker system - when I am everybody's problem I am also nobody's problem.


Warning, may contain left wing ranting against the press, what a surprise


If I sound angry, it is because I am. I am as angry that the ERS published a map with certain seats marked as unwinnable for two parties - including the one I was campaigning in, so admittedly I am biased (or emotionally charged and footsore) on this matter - as I am at the party leaders (of all parties) for failing to back great candidates and leaving them open to the vagaries of protest and tactical votes. I am angry that polling data gets to influence how people make up their minds, rather than actual policies and track records. I am angry that the party leader TV debates took over the campaign and reduced it to three white middle aged men, who would be no more representative of us under PR than they are now. I am furious at the biased, inaccurate, racist, ill-informed and often badly written sraps of paper which pass for newspapers, many of which are owned by not just non-doms but non UK citizens. There is a law against foreign money influencing our election. I think this should mean that any newspaper or TV channel owned by Rupert Murdoch should not be allowed to report on politics at any time, but that's just me, call me a bad loser if you like just don't call me a Guardian reader.


Fairness in voting does not equal fairness in general
Finally, some people appear to be confusing a so called fairer voting system with more fairness in society in general. If you want progressive politics, with more equality of opportunity, you generally vote for a progressive party. If the voting reform gives a platform for a wider range of politicians to get elected from, this does not necessarily result in more fairness, a progressive society. If more right wing politicians get a space at the table, particularly in systems where the smaller parties wield disproportionate amounts of power because there is no overall majority (the hung parliament we are in now or the results of most elections by proportional representation), this means more right wing power in politics and an increased public platform from which they grow, simple as that.
So here are the Bakery Window Suggestions for a fairer voting system:

1. Candidates from any party and none can stand for election. They have to set out their stall on policies, their working histories, their track records in local or national government or on the school governing body or local neighbourhood action group. They do this on the doorstep, at public meetings, by phone, blog, facebook, email or carrier pigeon.
2. We have a total ban on any opinion polls during the election or before it. At least on overtly political subjects, although I think that covers everything really.
3. Respected organisations such as the ERS or any political party and less respected organisations alike are not allowed to publish maps, diagrams, bar charts or anything else which contain the words "this seat is safe" for any party.
4. Our polling stations have enough ballot papers for the number of voters in that area, our postal votes go out well in advance so that people who asked for them, responsibly, because they knew they wouldn't be near their polling station that day or their home that week (it was a bank holiday on the Monday, lots of people went on holiday before their ballot papers arrived on the Saturday) can vote.
5. We promise each other we will never EVER go over to a system which relies on computers or buttons or mobile phones or anything more technically sophisticated than a pencil and a piece of paper with the names of the candidates on, counted by trusted people who are watched by others who are allowed to say if they make a mistake.
6. The electorate listen to the policies, pay attention to the arguments, take the time to read something and ask questions of the candidates - in person, on their blog, by twitter or phoning them up, it's not like they aren't accessible any more.
7. Then we vote. And the votes get securely delivered to a counting station where they are counted by trusted people etc as stated in 5 above.
8. That's it. The person with the most votes in one constituency earns the right to represent it. Fringe parties get to express their (sometimes hateful, sometimes beautiful) views and thereby influence other parties or in time, gather more experience and exposure so that they gradually stop being fringe parties and start getting elected (Green Party or for that matter the LibDems themselves, but dear me hopefully never the BNP).

Yes I can see the flaws. Particularly in step 6. But I am a crazy dreamer and I do think that politics makes a difference and if we move it to the centre by creating a system where no party is given a mandate to follow a coherent and thought through manifesto or be held to account at the next election if they fail to do what they said they would do without a decent enough note from their mum, we will end up representing only those people whose priorities and values lie in the centre or on the extremeties, such as the BNP, who will no doubt benefit highly from the STV. If you don't believe me, just have a look at some of the countries which have Proportional Representation. Our far right has not got any seat in parliament and has just lost all their local seats. But their votes added or encouraged by proportional representation could mean they get a cushion and perhaps even a name tag in the big house.
I have pored over the results of last week's election and one thing is clear to me: most people's priorities and values do not lie in the centre, most of us did not vote for the centre and at a time when the predictions through the campaign had been for the party of government to be thoroughly thrashed by the party of the posh boy and getting a fairly firm spanking from the party of the other posh boy. If so many people support voting reform how come most people didn't vote for the party which can't stop going on about it, the one which scored THIRD in votes but appears to have the most power in the current negotiations? People, with proportional representation, this awful insult to democracy would happen MORE OFTEN - my Euro colleagues assure me that this is normal to them, is this what we want? Do the people who voted LibDem because they wanted PR understand that this will also help the BNP to get elected? Are they OK with that? For more fairness, vote for a party with progressive politics at the core, periphery and surrounding atmosphere. If you can find one...I know there was one here somewhere...is that it coming back into view? To be continued...
and BACK TO THE RECIPE
Mascarpone and fruit tart, using Imogen's first sweet pastry - in her own words, as dictated by her


First of all, you measure 250g flour (plain) but you don't have to seive it if you don't want to. Then you add 50g caster sugar. Next you cut up 125 block of butter and chop it up into little pieces on the chopping board. And then you tip it into the bowl which has the flour and sugar in and then chop it up into more little pieces. Once you have got it into as little lumps as you can, you have to rub, using only your finger tips as they are the coldest part of your body. It's important to keep it cold, so that the butter doesn't melt and go funny. It's something about a chemical reaction.


Question: How do you know when you have done enough rubbing in? Answer: when you shake the bowl there aren't any big lumps on top.


So after you have done that, you have to make it into a bowl, no a ball, using only a spoon, because of the whole heat thing, oh adding cold water to make it stick. ONly a bit at a time. You get all of the flour/butter rubbed in mixture that's not been added together and bring it together, using spoon or knife to press it into a ball. Only add the water a little bit at a time, because although it can be solved (the problem which occurs if you add too much) you are less likely to make mistakes.


Then, once it is in a firm smooth ball, you have to wrap it up in greasproof paper and put it in the fridge. Then you make the mascarpone stuff and then you can take it (the pastry) out.




Mascarpone stuff


First of all you get a seive and you get 200g of cottage cheese or really it should be ricotta. You get the cottage cheese or ricotta in the seive and you use the back of a spoon to push it down so that it comes out all smooth. You have to keep on doing that until all of it has gone through and is a smooth paste in the bowl.




Then you add your mascarpone (200g) and your double cream (100g). And you scrape out the seeds from half a fresh vanilla pod and you scrape the zest of a lemon (that's the skin, but not the white stuff under it) with a good zester or a fine grater and you mix it all together. You add about 50g icing sugar (check that it doesn't have any egg whites in it if you have brothers or sisters allergic to eggs), or some more if you want it sweeter. YOu can add some sweet dessert wine or perhaps some grape juice but we didn't.


Pastry shell - see previous blogs


The rolling, lining and baking has been explained before. For this much creamy stuff you will need the amounts listed above and a 12 inch tart tin with removable bottom. Just remember, 20mins with the baking paper and baking beads on, then remove beads and paper and bake for 10 mins more till just golden. Allow to cool fully.


Smooth the creamy stuff in.


Then put loads of fruit on the top - raspberries or strawberries or something like that - make it pretty. Put it in the fridge for a while to chill and firm. You should then be able to remove the tart from the tin and onto a pretty plate.


And serve with a raspberry coulis (squish raspberries through a seive and add icing sugar to taste) or if you have finished the raspberry coulis a raspberry sorbet will do nearly as well.


By Imogen D.


NEXT TIME ON BAKERY WINDOW: Will there be a government to rant about? Or will I change the subject? In any case, there will be food....

On the gravy train

Well, it's happening. Springtime flowers signalling May showers (is that a real well known phrase or saying or did I just make it up?) or at least a hung parliament. Where does everyone live in these circumstances? Do Clegg, Cameron and Brown get to play scissors paper rock over who gets Number 10, Number 11 and the shed at the bottom of the garden? There is one, it featured (I think, though I would probably fold under questioning if I were extraordinarily rendited and admit I am not totally sure) in a picture in the Food Monthly section of the Observer yesterday, which featured lovely Sarah Brown as a domestic goddess....[rant alert]

Ah, Sarah, Sarah, Sarah, how can you do this? One of the most undignified and frankly insulting leitmotifs of this election (and there are many) is the treatment of women in the publicity strategy of the main parties. We are either a) supportive wives slash partners, b) contributors to some insane thread on mumsnet (just thinking about the ways that this internet site re-creates the horrors of the girls' playground in primary school makes me feel queasy) or c) invisible.

There is no point in talking about the role of women in the British National Party. The UK Independence Party, after running on a ticket which seems to consist solely of let's get rid of the Brussels bureaucrats who swim in champagne flavoured gravy and tell us our home grown bananas are the wrong shade of red, promptly put up their leading light as a member of the European Women's Committee when he gained a seat as a European Member of Parliament, in turn purely so that he could exercise his democratically elected right to pronounce that women's only effective location is within a 2.5 m radius of at least 3 working kitchen appliances. But frankly the Tories and the Labour Party should go and stand in the compost corner of the garden and made to think about how they have sidelined Harman, May, Widdecombe, Corston and colleagues and their extraordinary achievements. No, I am not asking for them to be paraded out purely because they are women, this is 2010. I am in fact asking for them not to be hidden away in some sort of general election purdah, so that all we see of the ovary owning classes is Sarah Brown in a frilly pinny holding a picturesque garden trowel.

Mercifully, on the doorstep, the totally unrepresentative selection of voters I have met seems to be interested in things like the economy, the future of the education system, climate change and the the Iraq war, and has shown every sign of being much more intelligent than any of the party spin doctors gives them credit for. And absolutely no-one so far has mentioned the expenses (except me, just then). The candidate I am doorknocking for is a man of integrity, intelligence, wit and warmth, so unlike some unfortunate lady activists, I don't have to fake enthusiasm. (http://www.paulsmith4bristolwest.org.uk/ )

So, for anyone who isn't sure, here are some ways in which women's lives have been affected by policy changes in the last 12 years: the minimum wage (helped vastly more women than men for the simple and appalling reason that low wages were an affliction affecting vastly more women than men); Sure Start, which particularly helps any parent of any child under 4 in most parts of the country, but especially those with high deprivation, by providing high quality, stigma free parenting help, careers advice, nursery care, health care, advocacy and a route out of isolation; the child care tax credits (if you get them, try to imagine what it was like before they existed); unparallelled improvements to the law and practical assistance available to both women and men experiencing domestic violence; changes in the laws on prostitution particularly protecting the most vulnerable women, those who have been trafficked, but also other prostituted women too; changes in the laws on licensing so-called lap dancing clubs so that they are licensed as sex establishments instead of places of entertainment (which should help us get some of their licenses removed, thus reducing the risk of sexual assault and sexual harassment for the neighbouring residents and those of us on our way home from work), the gender equality duty requiring all public institutions to ensure that their activities all promote and do not unwittingly work against gender equality. (to read some more, follow this link, helpfully provided by a member of the sisterhood, we do have a secret handshake you know: http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.guardian.co.uk%2Fcommentisfree%2F2010%2Fapr%2F18%2Fstudents-pole-dancing-david-mitchell&h=351b0442e6d59688cd02277addfe79b0)

And before anyone says what about men, newsflash: equality works better for men as well as women. Just don't get me started on what passing a law saying that gay people can have one sort of "marriage" but the real sort is still only available to straight people. To me, that still sounds like sexuality based apartheid, though of course I completely understand why some people have nevertheless gone for it. But really, what sensible woman or man could fall for a bribe of £150 per year to get married? Are we really that stupid? Do we really enjoy being insulted that much? I think not.

f you aren't registered to vote in the UK, deal with it TODAY, the closing date for registering is tomorrow, Tuesday 20th April 2010. Whichever way you want to vote (unless it is BNP, in which case what on earth are you doing still reading this blog? I am a brown person you know) please, women died so we could all have one of these pieces of white card. Honour their memory and earn your right to moan for the next four years. Ring your local council and ask for help.

ALL ABOARD FOR THE GRAVY

There have been requests for the onion gravy recipe. Quite coincidentally, Ms Sophie Dahl did bubble and squeak and onion gravy on her Delicious show last week (this is not a plug for the show, I am uneasy about Ms Dahl's relationship to real food, so am not sure where to stand on this politically). This prompted speculation, nay intense and heated discussion in the Bakery about pretty kitchens, comforting food and a flurry of activity at my stove top in my frilly pinny (I can even compete with a TV personality/model with an eating disorder).

The weekend results included: home made chicken stock (which I used in the gravy - but you can use a vegetarian real or powdered alternative, Marigold Swiss Bouillon will be fine); chicken, butternut squash and leek gratin (comfort food par excellence, especially with a vegetarian end and a chicken end of the baking trough); chocolate mousse (see previous blog), fishcakes with poached eggs and then last night's triumph, the classic Bakery Bubble with Onion Gravy. Before I hear the chiming of the smugness bell, let me add that during the week I exist on a diet of toast/marmite, muesli/bananas, echinacea sweets, coffee and chocolate.

I served this at a party with roasted vegetables. No-one went home hungry and satisfaction ratings seem to have been high.

Ingredients:

2 large-ish onions

Tablespoon sunflower oil for frying

Tablespoon cornflour (it really should be cornflour, but if you can't get it, plain will do)

Tablespoon Worcestershire sauce

Pint of stock (see below)

Mustard - I used Moutarde de Maille grainy, some would prefer something yellower

Salt and pepper

Method

Chop the onions pretty finely. Heat the oil on medium heat in (preferably) a cast iron frying pan which has been well oiled over many years, but failing that, you can use a medium saucepan - not a non stick one, this prevents sufficient browning. Put the chopped onions in and leave to fry gently but firmly for about 20 minutes, stirring every so often. I did this whilst watching Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop cafe, still a lovely film (better book) and still good material for a training course on domestic violence, and I didn't miss much on my regular kitchen checks.

Meanwhile, get your stock together. This either means: boil kettle, measure out stock powder into jug, pour water onto stock, stir; or poach chicken in large saucepan with big glass of wine, enough water to cover the chicken, two bay leaves, a roughly chopped pair of carrots and pair of leeks, couple of tomatoes, some herbs (parsley, sage, rosemary or thyme), remove chicken when done, take flesh off chicken and place bones back in stock pot and simmer the whole thing for a couple of hours, then leave to stand, skim off fat and strain the doings from the liquid. Taste and season.

When the onions have browned but not burned, remove from the heat and stir in the cornflour. Return it to the heat, stirring constantly for about a minute to make the starch grains burst. If it all looks a bit dry, add a small knob of butter (no more than an extra 25g) and stir vigorously.

Remove pan from heat again and add about a tablespoon of stock, a generous slosh but not too much. Stir vigorously until it is all combined, returning it to the heat momentarily to help this process. Remove from heat again, add about the same again, stir again, return to heat for more stirring. Each time you add more liquid the mixture will look hopelessly runny and lumpy for a little while till you have stirred and the heat has helped the flour and liquid to combine to a thickish (to begin with) and gradually just creamy (as you add more liquid) sauce. You can keep adding more liquid in ever increasing amounts until it is all in there. Now return to the heat on medium and allow it all to come to a bubbling simmer, during which time it should thicken slightly to make a gravy consistency. If it all looks too thin, just let it simmer longer and it will thicken.

You can now add the seasoning. Splash in plenty of Worcestershire sauce or any equivalent of your choice. Last night I also added in some very old but still pokey home made chilli jam (it had crystalised but is still fine when dissolved in a sauce or smeared over a roasting veg). I also added plenty grainy mustard. I kept tasting it (no double dipping with that spoon now, you don't want your guests getting your late Spring cold) and adding more of this seasoning or that until I liked it a lot. Then I let it simmer some more.

Serving suggestion

This goes well with pretty much anything roasted or toasted. Roasted veg or meat good. Bubble and squeak (future Bakery recipe) good. Spread on toasted bread, good. With a poached egg on the bubble and squeak with toasted bread on the side, divine.

Thanks to KW for Amsterdam blossom photos. The primroses are part of a primrose carpet in Weston Big Wood, an ancient and magical wood just outside Portishead in the Gordano valley.

NEXT TIME IN BAKERY WINDOW: more ranting from the doorstep and some food which tastes yummy.

Masala Omelette for One

First of all, apologies to the Apples of my Eyes and colleague who are allergic to eggs, to the Friend of my Youth for whom the mere sight of a slab of Valrhona induces a migraine and to anyone who spurns the secondary output of anything with a face (such as milk or eggs).
Some previous posts have not been kind (although the last one, underneath the proportional representation and the general election result, was egg and nut free and a pudding). And also mysteriously this current blog post, clearly written post election (and also with no election ranting in it! Hooray!) has changed its own date of upload to 2nd April...I am trying to re-upload it with this sentence in it as a device to change this - but the machines are clearly taking over.


I must now warn aforementioned As of my Es and esteemed colleague that neither indeed will this one be, though the F of my rapidly disappearing Y will be fine. It may however contain at least a hint of a rant - something strange has happened to my personality lately and I have started thinking kindly thoughts and carrying out random acts of niceness. But I missed the ranting, in fact what was I thinking of? Did I miss the meeting where it was announced that all injustice had been thwarted, all random acts of unkindness declared socially unacceptable and the UK Honours system had been overhauled to remove all mentions of the British Empire? Answers on twitter please, whatever that is. But I am guessing that they will be 'no, Thangam, as you know very well, that meeting was cancelled because we forgot to book a room'. So rants remain - they are necessary, but only provided they stimulate action, not if they merely serve as a way of making me feel like I am actually doing something. More on this anon.


Here is the recipe, let's get that out of the way first.


Masala Omelette
No, actually, here comes the rant. And it is related to the recipe. I have long had to tolerate people who have been there on gap years or package holidays telling me things about India as if I was a stranger to the country and they are almost always things like how great it is that you can get a hotel room for 0.03p per night and how annoying beggars are and the quality of the illegal substances they consumed on a beach in Goa/Hindu Kush valley/jail (if you google Hindu Kush or images of Hindu Kush you are rewarded with more pictures of cannabis indica buds than the world could need - it took me a while to find this one). My strategy has hitherto been to smile and nod and walk away, deleting their phone number as I do so and subsequently removing from my possession all photos, memorabilia and other artefacts which might link me to them.


But lately, and I think we can all name this as the Slumdog Millionaire effect it so truly is, I have had the uncomfortable feeling that they are trying to educate me about how poor people really do prefer being poor to being, y'know, not poor. There has been a slew of appalling Channel 4 programmes warming this theme, lots of shots of TVs and mobile phones being used in slums to show that they aren't really that badly off, lots of hugging and crying and children playing to show that human warmth exists even in a slum (and whoever thought otherwise?) and possibly some dialogue about everyone wanting to carry on living there because of the sense of community.


This programme slew seems to have given the green light to people who have in fact NEVER been to India or met anyone of an Indian origin or ever studied economics or social history or colonial history, in fact people about whom I strongly suspect think that Indians speak English because of MTV and know nothing of a legacy of 200+ years of economic, military, administrative and social domination by the English to pronounce, unasked, that the Indian slums are in fact the model of how we should all live. The people who have pronounced this to me (and trust me there have been more than 6, including two complete strangers) have all done so from the comfort of comfy sofas in well built secure housing with clean safe running water, access to health care and education and in fairly certain knowledge that their house won't be crushed by a bulldozer one morning to make way for a construction site on which to build luxury flats. The-Slumdog-follow-up-bad-documentary-effect.


Don't get me wrong, I went voluntarily to see SM, not once but twice in the actual cinema (once in a delicious 1930s gem called the Tuschinski, to which I recommend you all rush when on holiday in Amsterdam, if only to sit in the warm red velvet plushness and sigh wistfully for film going times gone past) and I enjoyed my evening hugely on both occassions. I have also voluntarily watched and re-watched the final dance sequence on several long haul plane flights. I have the soundtrack on my MP3 and as a phenomenom I am a big fan. Not because it is a great film by any standards or because it is a great film about India, when in fact it presents a film in which the entire cast, save the leading man and woman, are despicable, child molesting/criminal/capitalist bastards, and the leading man, having grown up in the slum and streets suddenly has enough fluent English to hold his own in a call centre and a TV programme.

The dancing, photography and music were fantastic which puts it above many a film of the last few years but that's as far as I can go. Sorry, those of you who loved it and wanted me to share that feeling, please don't take it personally but I didn't get the same wave and it's significantly because of what it means rather than what it was. And even then it is complicated, because some of the things that are great about it are about what it means, rather than what it was.


It is frankly very irritating that the only films about India which get big box office outside the subcontinent have to be made by English people who seem unable to resist the urge to infantalise a nation of 2 billion people with cutesy tear jerking trite plot (from Gandhi to Slumdog in two generations doesn't feel like much progress). But I am a fan of the phenomenom because it is a BIG something for some of us to be in a cinema watching a film with a cast who look like us and whilst it does portray us as mostly appalling people, it's an improvement on the Indiana Jones depiction of two decades ago. And of course it is good that so many people whose interest in India hasn't hitherto stretched much beyond complaining that the people who work in their bank's call centre don't seem to know where Nempnet Thrubwell is are now beginning to wake up and smell the future. It is particularly poignant that a man went to the Oscars and made his acceptance speech in the language of my family of paternal origin. My tears are willingly jerked by that aspect.


It should have been a sign that we brown folk were going to be taken more seriously as global players. But dear me no. This Oscar winning, which was great, was followed by the slum fetishising, in TV documentaries and newspaper articles in respectable newspapers. It feels awfully like patting the poor brown people on the head and failing to recognise the appalling inequalities and injustices of the global economy, and how our wastefulness in one part of the world affects the lives and deaths of people in another.


It's the same unforgivable mentality which allows us to read articles about the battery farm like conditions of workers in the factories which make the MP3 player on which I listen to AR Rahman's delicious and uplifting Jai Ho (bought and paid for, not illegally downloaded) as I cycle to the station of a morning, and rationalise this as something which doesn't affect Chinese people (in the case of manufacturing) or Indian people (in the case of the back room industries or waste disposal) like it would Western people. I sit on my squashy sofa, I wear my cheap clothes, I watch my affordable luxuries and I am entitled to pronounce that poor people either don't want these things or already have them and aren't really that poor after all.


[the ranting muscle still seems to work then]


[but was it a nice change to have a thangambakery blog free of election politics?]


[some significant inspiration for this rant came from the Shashi Tharoor piece entitled Indiana Jones and the Temple of Dhoom, contained in his marvelous book of essays 'The Elephant, the Tiger and the Cellphone: Reflections on India, the Emerging 21st Century Power']



Now for the recipe: Omelette Masala (comfort food for the mixed race people's nation)


This is comfort food for those of us who miss our grandmother's curried scrambled eggs (that, along with Gulab Jamun, an Indian sweet whose ingredients defy understanding of how delicious it is, is all I ate when I was there when I was 9 for the first time) or were once in Goa and had something vaguely like it squashed in a bun, or anyone who just likes Indian spicing and eggs and that does cover a lot of us. Apologies once again to thangambakery followers who are not able to eat of the egg. There will be a chocolate muffin coming soon, one so delicious that egg fans do not notice the lack of egg.

Chop up a green or red chilli, including some of the seeds or all of them if you like it REALLY hot. If you don't like your food hot at all, don't make this omelette, without the chilli you might as well stick to tortilla.


Grind some coriander, fennel and cumin seeds - about quarter of a teaspoon of each, you can use a pestle and mortar for this. No need to invest in a spice grinder. Or you can use half a teaspoon of dried spices. If no pest. and mort., try a rolling pin. But do put a pestle and mortar on your birthday present list or just do yourself a favour and get one for yourself. Marble or granite, not wood.

If you can get decent curry leaves (pictured left) these are real, they are well used spice in South India and you can grow them (follow the link above) or order them online from Spices of India, or you can get them from good Indian grocery shops such as the world famous Sweet Mart in St Mark's Road, Bristol -dry fry two or three till dry but not browning and add to the grinding mix. DON'T bother if they smell musty or look manky. Curry leaves are ESSENTIAL for South Indian cooking - fresh or dried, they are used in large quantities and are part of the palette which distinguishes real South Indian food from the westernised generic Indian food we often get in Europe. Get some and I will feature them in a future Bakery Window. You won't regret it.

Chop reasonably finely half a red pepper.


If you have a leftover cooked potato hanging around, or can keep one from another meal, chop this up too, into 1cm cubes (roughly 1cm, no need to get out your tape measure). If you don't have one hanging around, boil one till just done and then chop it.


Heat a decent (or the best you have) frying pan to medium heat and melt a 25 g knob of butter in it, with a splash of sunflower oil - the oil is to help prevent the butter from burning whilst you fry the onion/pepper/spices, but the dominant note should be butter so dont overdo the splash - it's about a teaspoon no more.


Before the oil starts smoking add the chopped red pepper. Stir when needed, to fry it till just soft and sweet, then add the chopped potato. Again, fry, with occassional stirs, until potatoes are just turning golden and the red pepper is probably just starting to caramelise at the edges. Now chuck in the chilli and the spices, and keep stirring all the time now, for about a minute. The spices should be scenting up your kitchen, not smoking. This is a no smoking zone. Smoking will kill the flavour. Smoking will kill the tastebuds. Smoking will kill you. [this is a reminder note to self, not a public announcement or indeed news].


Now add the eggs - I would say 3, beaten a bit but not overly - it's fine to have trails of white in this omelette. If you are on an egg-conscious diet thing, 2 will do, I have vitamin deficiencies which spell BED, so I use these as an excuse for more of any sort of egg, hen's, duck's, quail's (so tiny! so pretty! go so well with sweetcorn puree and fried scallops!) and more of any sort of sunshine. Tip the pan from side to side till there is egg all over and it is starting to cook. As it cooks, tip pan to one side and ease uncooked egg to the underneath, by lifting up the edge of the omelett using a spatula which is safe for the pan surface (one of those brightly coloured silicone ones you can get in kitchen departments of department stores like Fenwicks in Newcastle, where I recently bought up most of their silicone kitchen implements including re-useable bun cases in pastel colours!). If the potato/pepper looks like it is all collecting in the middle, push it around a bit and then push down on the egg mixture if that makes holes or tears.


Cook till your desired level of egg runniness to firmness ratio is achieved. I like mine on the salmonella side.


You can serve this delicacy with some green beans or other green things - perhaps tossed with some chilli oil or some finely chopped fried garlic? Or you can sandwich it in a bread bun. Or you can just place it on a fine plate and eat it with your (clean) fingers, Indian style (right hand only, try to use only finger tips).


Why is this food for the mixed race people's nation? Because it is sort of Indian and sort of not, was inspired by my grandmother (also Thangam) and by Nigella Lawson, both of whom have provided me with similar recipes to the point where I can't remember any more where grandma's ends and Nigella's begins. We mixed race folk were once despised or pitied or recommended for extermination (still are by some) but there are more and more of us and we seem to be doing OK or more than OK. Gradually, others who wouldn't have instinctively identified themselves thusly from looking at their immediate lineage are starting to have to admit that the very term mixed race implies there are some/most people who are of some sort of a pure race, which is, at least in this island nation of a thousand invasions and excursions, unlikely at best. People, come out, admit we are probably all in this nation (I can't call it a melting pot) and the BNP and other racists will have nothing to work with.

NEXT TIME IN THE BAKERY WINDOW: egg free muffins and cakes - and probably more politics, I have a follow up to the proportional representation rant...have I started to mellow in middle age? Surely not. Yet I find myself in agreement with Roy Jenkins, one of the gang of four who started the SDP and thereby, what with its subsequent alliance and eventual merger with the Liberals, arguably helped to keep Labour out of government for longer than the Tories probably wanted. Yes, folks, I can be broad minded sometimes and have to admit that Roy J (and the German electoral system, which apparently we, the Allies in the post world war 2 carve up of Germany), might have been right on this one.

They think winter's all over....it is now

For those who are unaware of the actual dates of the actual seasons in Northern Europe, Spring begins on the 21st March which means today. No more sights like this one: till November at least. On second thoughts, what point is there in uploading another picture of snow on trees, enough trees have died so that we can see 1,309,897 snow related images this winter, usually accompanied by exclamations of amazement that one might see snow in winter in Northern Europe. Anyway, the reason it didn't feel like Spring is because it wasn't. It is now. And so to chocolate.

Yesterday I went out into the Amsterdam neighbourhood where I still pass off an occassional underemployed existence and I witnessed indeed crocus lawns and budding bushes, felt the warm feathery caress of nearly April breezes on my cheek instead of the cold steely knife slash of February wind whipped off the North Sea along the canals and into any crack in the outer layers, removed one of the outer layers (for a while anyway) and started to feel guilty about the allotment. The outer layer in question was NOT my new neck warming garment, currently named as the halfaclava (I think there is a proper name, anyone who knows it please see me after class). That will stay on my neck for the time being, what a genius garment is this, how quick to knit and how warming to wear. I am the envy of my fellow Amsterdammers on bikes, e'en now in the Spring caressing breezes.

The allotment guilt lasted as long as it took me to mind meld with my internet connection and order seed potatoes, organic fertiliser and some not wholly unattractive sacks (yes really) with which to crank up the productivity of my Bristol back yard. Said yard is also known as the garden by charitable souls or people wanting to smoke in the Bakery (I do provide chairs and the remains of a gazebo languish near the mountainous compost heap, the most productive area of my estate).

The guilt had faded fully by the time I recommenced my quarterly season-changing round of weeping, wailing and ganshing of teeth on the subject of how I shall ever make a living for the next year, will I ever work again, should I take up a new career and if so what? Past choices have included nutritionist, boutique shop proprietor and call centre worker. Yesterday found me checking out the introductory courses for chocolatiers on a delicious looking website. Day one, tempering (sounds like fun); day two ganache making (there is a relevance to this page) and day three, How to Make the Perfect Chocolate Mousse. What a culinary fantasy that conjours up. I can imagine it in my mouth right now, fluffy yet substantial, creamy yet not too sickly, chocolatey but not too sweet, served in a pretty dish but with another two stashed away in the fridge for when the guests have done and gone....

Surely Perfect Chocolate Mousse can't need a course, I thought, and went back to the organic seed potato order (if you are interested click here), worrying that I hadn't ordered enough, given that I am sure to be totally out of work by July and therefore living solely out of the back yard grow bags, if I can fight off the Apples of my Eyes with or close by to whom I live, particularly the visiting one whose love of potatoes is beyond the devotional. It will be hard, they are strong and young and I quite like them a lot but they've got the whole of their lives in front of them and I am unlikely to use that phrase in the first person ever again so it will be step aside or the potatoes get it.

Yet the thought of the Perfect Chocolate Mousse haunts me still, even the choice of potato brands (early, middle, late, very late, unacceptably tardy, I need them all if I am to avoid the workhouse by Autumn) cannot take my mind away from that phenomenom. Suddenly the day has a focus - I will make the Perfect Chocolate Mousse and the way to that is the Perfect Chocolate Mousse Ingredients.

Could there be a better place to locate this mission? Amsterdam's chocolate shops are the stuff of legend, well, the stuff of sighs and drools, and almost every visitor I have had has been seduced by the wafting scents from the legendary Puccini chocolate maker'n'shop. And they sell the hard stuff, the solid, chunky slabs of Valronha. When you ask for one, the shop assistant always asks if you know what you are doing with it - visitors must have once returned complaining bitterly that it didn't taste like Dairy Milk (there is no sugar) and I like to smile knowingly and say something in Dutch like "I have lived here for 5 years but my command of your language is still close to none, however, I have impressed my friends and relatives with my ability, please laugh and nod and reply to me in your native tongue so that they will continue to be impressed". Pausing to visit the market nearby, eat the pancakes for which this city is oddly famed (never ate one yet which justified this), admire the views all around.

On returning home, via some very picturesquely situated swans and a very large amount of rain (not photographed) I find journey toward the decidedly unholy grail of PCM gives my shallow existence meaning for several hours more, though, fear not, Bakery readers, the actual making of it doesn't take long and your date/dinner party guests/tummy will thank you later. You don't need to shop in Amsterdam or Paris or London or my favourite place in London for both coffee and chocolate or Edinburgh (although for chocolate snobs - hands up, yes that's you, alternatives will have to be chosen wisely) just get the best chocolate you can find, the best cream you can find (straight from the dairy would be best), the best eggs and if you are using my suggested flavouring of cardomom, the juiciest greenest seed pods with the stickiest shiny blackest seeds you can get and a melty textured flavoursome mango for the accompaniment and you will be the toast of your friends and lovers. I just hope your presentation skills are sharper than mine - Masterchef this aint.

Here, with the requested photos of the preparation process, complete with gratuituous shots of more of my curves than I want to admit I own, is the recipe.

Perfect Chocolate Mousse with Mango Coulis and cardomom (egg free version available) (serves 4)

250g very good dark (or very good milk if you have to0 chocolate (I used 150g 70% plain chocolate and 100g of 100% Valrhona chocolate - hence the added sugar below. If you use only plain or milk chocolate, these already have sugar and this is not necessary. Don't over-sweeten the mousse, that's not classy).

300 ml very good double cream. Not Clotted Cream, however. I made the mistake of topping up my only 175 ml double with some clotted. The results were stiffer than the truly Perfect Chocolate Mousse requires, though my pain was bearable as you will see.

3 very good organic free range eggs. Egg allergy people don't despair, you can have the egg free version also known as chocolate ganache pots, with some extra cream or creme fraiche to cut through the sweetness. Separate these eggs, whites into one bowl large enough for you to be able to whip them up into pillows of stiffness with your chosen whisk (or into the mechanical device for this if you have one), the yolks into a medium sized bowl, larger than the one I am using in the following pictures, it was a mistake. Separating eggs: gently crack in middle of egg, carefully ease two shell halves apart with whole egg in one, pour it slowly into the other and as the yolk passes into the other shell subtly but firmly catch the white or most it in the first half shell. You can use the shell edges to help but don't get them near the yolk. Repeat a couple of times to make sure maximum white all in one half, white-free yolk in other.

All the good seeds from three good pods of green cardomom. If you are buying them in N. Europe you will have to get what you can, split them open one at a time and if they are dusty brown looking rather than shiny slightly sticky looking near black seeds, chuck em. You only want the dark fresh looking ones. Crush them into a powder in a mortar with a pestle.

All the seeds from half a sticky fresh vanilla pod. I have gone on enough about vanilla quality. No, actually I haven't, there is no limit to how much I could go on about it, but you can take my word for it, it's the way forward, particularly if you are British and are subconsciously searching for the artificial vanilla flavour in every chocolate mouthful.

Liquid - 2 tablespoon brandy or rum. Or not. I didn't bother last night and I was more than happy. You could use cointreau or just go straight for orange juice but frankly you can do as I did and stick to adding slightly more cream.


Method

Whip the eggs yolks, vanilla seeds (scrape well) and if you are using some 100% no sugar Valrhona or other equivalent chocolate, a tablespoon per 100g of the 100% chocolate you use. (So if you use 150g plain 70% chocolate and 100g Valrhona, add a tablespoon of sugar).

In an appropriately sized bowl whisk up the eggs until soft mounds form and remain when you remove the whisking implement. We aren't looking for stiff peaks here but it needs to keep its shape.

Meanwhile, break the chocolate (with Valrhona this will require a good knife and adult supervision) and if you are using it, the liquid, into a heatproof glass bowl, and place this bowl into a saucepan of just boiled and taken off the heat water - only a third full will do, don't want this to splash over into the chocolate. Add also the crushed cardomom. Return the saucepan to the heat occassionally but try to employ only patience and a teaspoon to melt the chocolate to liquid. NEVER let the water boil whilst the chocolate is in there, that way lies gritty bits of chocolate in a puddle of melted cocoa butter and this means chucking it away, which is a tragedy. When it can do this, it is ready. Now remove it from the saucepan and heat and allow to cool very slightly but only for about a minute or two, you don't want it to re-solidify, you just don't want it so hot it will cook the eggs.

Adding gradually but stirring rapidly as you do so, combine the egg yolks (and sugar) with the melted chocolate by pouring the former slowly into the latter and beating the latter as hard as you can after each addition of egg. It will suddenly get stiff and you may panic. Keep calm, so long as it doesn't start to look like chocolate scrambled eggs you are fine.

Add the cream in the same manner, and quickly you will be breathing more steadily as the mixture becomes smooth, liquid-ish and glossy. The trick is to keep beating. You may need to grow more hands or get an adult to help you. Check that the egg whites are still soft mounds and that there isn't a slight puddling effect at the bottom of their bowl - if there is - and there may well be - give it a 30 second blast from the electric whisk again, or if you are using a hand whisk, get that other adult to do this as quickly as they can whilst you keep beating the chocolate and cream and egg yolk mixture. Now stir in one dessert spoon full of egg white at a time, cutting it into the mixture with a metal spoon and then folding the spoonful over and doing the same again, not beating it, you don't want to bash the air out of the egg white but you do want it combined. When it is all combined, spoon it into decorative bowls, cover with cling film (the bowls not you) and put them into the fridge for at least an hour to set and chill.

Mango - peel and slither or scrape as much of the juicy flesh as you can out of their skins, off their seed and into something in or from which you can blitz, liquidise or push it through a seive. I wouldn't add anything to this juice, just make it smooth.

When you are ready to serve, cut or slice some good chocolate to make your own flakes and decorate the top of the mousse with these. If you have any sense, you will have put the mousse into the small dishes you want to serve them in, add the chocolate and serve the mango coulis on the side in a pretty jug. Or if you have been watching Masterchef, try and make it look better than I did.

NEXT TIME AT THE BAKERY: I did promise tuna recently but I think it will be a vegetarian risotto which is also accidentally vegan. But what to rant about? Suggestions on a comment below here please.

Short, flaky, sweet or savoury, it will get you extra points

The ranting will be short this week. I have given my all, ranting wise, it has been a good week for it, with enough to go on. I can give no more.

For those who wish to have a summary of the subjects of this week's ranting, here is a list: mobile phone companies, mobile phone company call plans, Sam Cam's use as a clothes horse rather than an intelligent woman, media coverage of so-called "political wives", the phrase "political wives", third rate hotels, Denise Fergus being treated as an expert on criminal rehabilitation, train ticket pricing plans, podcasts which don't work, private companies stripping pension funds and remaining in business whilst their pensioners have to go on benefits, capitalism generally, capitalism specifically as it relates to banking and property, capitalism as it relates to the giving up of protest against it, child criminals being called demons and monsters when fathers who kill their children are given sympathy for being broken hearted, all the major political parties for not reading Keynes properly, all the major political parties for lurching together to a deficit = cuts in public spending position (show me a time when this worked, go on, just try), dunking, bad coffee and Big Lottery. And breathe. And relax. And back to the recipe. It will soon look like this>>>>>>>>>

So here is this week's blog, how to make your own pastry. Masterchef this week gave lots of extra points to the person who made their own leek quiche using their own pastry. What we post in the Bakery Window one month they applaud on the best programme on TV the next.

Good tart recipes abound in Tamasin Day-Lewis' "The Art of the Tart", of savoury and sweet varieties. I heartily recommend it.


(Shortcrust) Pastry method:

1. Go to shop. Buy packet of frozen pastry. Get home. Discover it is sweet and you wanted savoury. Curse and rail against the modern world. Turn on the Cooking Channel and eat toast instead.
2. Go to shop, carefully examine range of pastry products available. Don’t buy sweet pastry. Get home and discover that you bought puff pastry and you wanted shortcrust for the leek tart in Thangam Bakery part 3. Curse and rail against the modern world. Turn on the cooking channel, worry about possibility of right wing government and eat extra toast with cinnamon sugar on it instead.
3. Go to shop, remember to choose savoury short crust pastry. Get home and heave sigh of relief. Put pastry in the freezer because you aren’t going to cook now. Worry like mad about the prospect of right wing government. Curse and rail against the modern world. Pour glass of wine. Start chopping leeks or preparing tart innards according to recipe. Pour another glass of wine. Spend 7.9 hours and 1.4 bottles of wine preparing tart filling. Feel rather smug then realise the pastry is still a frozen block. Realise further more that you have no idea how to work the microwave for pastry defrosting purposes or any purposes other than as a semi supportive base for the bread maker and the collection of empty jam jars waiting to find new meaning. Curse and rail against the modern world. Decide it is time to make own pastry…..

Ingredients
200g Plain flour, 1oog butter (for 12in/30cm tin) or 150g plain flour and 75g butter (for 9in/22cm tin) good pinch salt, enough cold water to bind it (optional: egg yolk and cold water mix, if you aren’t allergic to eggs and want a bit of richness in your crust).

Rub
Rub fat into flour. Roughly translated, this means, sieve flour into a good sized bowl, then chop the butter (or vegan equivalent) into it roughly, then using only finger tips, rub the butter against the flour so that it gradually becomes the texture of breadcrumbs. Shake the bowl every now and then to see how well it is mixed – big lumps will collect at the top (don’t ask me why, ask someone who can explain gravity without the aid of a satsuma). Keep your hands cold, you don’t want the butter to melt. And yes, you could have used a blender. I just don't have one.

Bind
Add a good grind of salt, then slowly add cold water, or (if using egg yolk) first the egg yolk followed by enough water to keep the mixture together. Use a knife blade, not your finders, to bring it all to a firm not sticky ball. Over-fingering leads to unwanted melting or softening. If you accidentally add too much water, you can add some flour and roll the ball around in it until stiff again, but try not to add too much water in the first place. And no, I don't know how to do this bit with a blender because I don't have one. Maybe with a blade? It needs to be done adding a tiny bit of liquid at a time so that the pastry doesn't get too sticky, no stickiness is required at all. If you do go too far, roll it in flour to try to reverse the damage.

Wrap, chill and firm
Wrap this firm ball in greaseproof paper (or a fresh butter wrapper if you don’t have a roll of greaseproof paper) and put it in the fridge for as long as you can to chill and firm. Oh how I wish that being wrapped in greaseproof paper and put in the fridge would help me to chill and firm.

Unwrap and roll
After at least one hour of chilling and firming, remove the pastry from the fridge and wrapping. Push it together into roughly the relevant shape for your baking tray – if you are using a rectangular shallow one, make it roughly rectangular. If a traditional circular pie or quiche tin, make it properly spherical then squash it to make a thick circular disk. Dust the kitchen surface with a light layer of flour and do the same to your rolling implement – I find a wine cooler works very well but it's a shame to risk the wine warming up. Old fashioned milk bottles used to do the job. Unopened wine bottles still do. Or you could always use a rolling pin. Roll the pastry: press down and roll your chosen implement back and forth over the pastry twice, then turn it through 90 degrees and do the same, pushing it back into the rectangle/circle as needed, before continuing with the turning and rolling, turning and rolling, pushing back a bit etc. This should lead you to a roughly perfect rolled out pastry layer – you want it to be no more than a couple of millimetres thick – no matter how much you love pastry, too thick and you are on the damp and slippery road to pastry heartache. Just right and crisp buttery moist but yielding tart case will reward you.

Line and partially bake
Line the baking tray/tin with pastry – it doesn’t really need greasing, there is enough in the pastry – tucking it firmly into all corners without stretching. Then cut away all the excess pastry flaps and frills – run a knife round the top edge, cut off any corner pleats, make sure it is all neat and there are no cracks or holes. Now cover with greaseproof paper or butter papers and sprinkle these with pastry beads (see below) or dried beans to weight down the paper. Put it in the oven at 180c and cook for about 10-15 minutes or so until it is just turning firm but hasn’t yet started to change colour. Take it out of the oven and place on a heatproof surface. Remove beads and paper and put the beads/beans away for next time.

Prick and return
Having removed paper and beads, prick the base with a sharp pricky thing or fork, don't jab it hard enough to cause actual bodily damage to the lovely non stick surface of your fine flan tin, four or five pricks with the kitchen fork to hand will do. Then return the pastry, no paper or bead/ns this time and bake for a further 5-10 minutes to dry out the base.

What on earth is a pastry bead?
Beads are for cooking, not just jewelry or sewing or that other thing that I have heard some of the more adventurous amongst you may have used them for but aren’t likely to admit to your parents. They are little blobs, size of large-ish jewelry beads but without the little hole through the middle. They are ceramic, or made from some other substance which won’t blow up or melt when put in the oven. They are to weigh down the pastry during the partial baking process (I can’t call it baking blind, for goodness sake, pastry doesn’t have eyes) so that the pastry doesn’t balloon up. Don’t put them straight onto the pastry, cut or roughly tear a piece of greaseproof paper to the shape of your tart tine, put this on top of the uncooked pastry and weigh the paper and pastry down with the beads.

You can use dried beans instead and then re-use them afterwards by storing in one of the empty jars lurking around the back of the under the sink cupboard or behind the microwave, at which point you will feel a warm glow of thriftiness and connection with your grandmother or with Mrs Beeton. You may find you can never again find where you put them, but maybe that’s just me.

You can buy the ceramic ones from a nice kitchen department in a nice old fashioned department store or just from the nice kitchen shop, which, where I live, is handily called KITCHENS. In the postmodern ironic world you may find your local equivalent is unhandily called BATHROOMS but if that is the case, don’t go there, don’t give them your money, it will only encourage them.

Puff pastry? No thanks
Well, not really, in fact of course puff pastry yes please but unless you are comforting yourself from some deep emotional trauma, or avoiding a deadline (the people who get their morning beverage in the Real Live Thangam Bakery know I mean what I say there) I think that pretty much comes under the heading of life really being too short. I love cooking, and don’t ever think life is too short to stuff a mushroom (actually I prefer it if the stuffing receptacle is a cabbage leaf, mushrooms are best fried in butter, featuring in a risotto or left picturesquely nuzzling tree stumps in the woods) but making puff pastry is a thankless unrewarding task involving rolling, laying out bits of butter, re-rolling, wrapping and chilling, unwrapping, more rolling, more laying out bits of butter, more re-rolling, more wrapping and chilling and on and on and on….Kids, just say no.

NEXT TIME IN THE BAKERY WINDOW: something sweet and pretty. And the return of the rant.