Hey, Puddin'!

Until the advent of pudding mixes, every cook knew how to make a cornstarch pudding.  Vanilla cornstarch custard pudding, or blancmange, was a staple nursery food in Victorian England and, if dressed up with caramel or chocolate, adorned with fruit, or topped with whipped cream, it was thought fit to grace even the finest table.

After WWII, with advertisers and home economists proclaiming the virtues of convenience food, the humble cornstarch pudding fell from favour.  It’s never regained its place of pride in the home cook’s repertoire.  It is, however, a good thing to know how to make.  We usually have the ingredients on hand and, once mastered, this pudding makes an affordable, tasty, comforting dessert.  It can also be used in pies and parfaits.

The proportions for almost all cornstarch puddings are the same.  With the exceptions of caramel and butterscotch, you can make just about any kind of pudding you might like simply by adding flavourings to basic blancmange right at the end of the cooking time. 

To make a blancmange, begin by whisking together 1/3 c. sugar, 6 Tbsp. cornstarch and ¼ tsp. salt.  Gradually add 4 cups of milk to this mixture, whisking constantly as you do so in order to dissolve the cornstarch.  Place the mixture in the top of a double boiler or in a heat-proof bowl over—but not touching—boiling water.  Stir it constantly until it begins to thicken—about 8 to 12 minutes—then cover it and continue to cook the pudding for another 10 minutes. 

Once the milk mixture has thickened, stir about a cup of it very gradually into 2 well-beaten eggs.  Do this slowly, stirring the whole time, to ensure that the eggs blend into the mixture without scrambling.  Add the egg mixture back into the pan with the rest of the milk mixture and cook the pudding for 2 more minutes, stirring constantly. 

Remove the pudding from the heat and stir in 1 tsp. of vanilla extract.  Pour it into a bowl and cover it immediately with plastic wrap, making sure that the plastic rests right on the surface of the pudding.  This will prevent the top of the pudding from forming a skin.  Once it has cooled sufficiently, store the pudding in the refrigerator.

Simple, right?  Now that you know how to make it, you can file this recipe away for the next time you have need of a little comfort food.

  

Arrgh! Who Invented This Oven Anyway?

My oven has been misbehaving lately.  At totally random intervals, the broiler element comes on instead of the bottom element, scorching the tops of whatever I am baking.  Yesterday it did this at the very beginning of  a batch of bread, scorching the tops of the loaves black before the insides of the loaves had even begun to set.  So frustrating!  I cursed my stove roundly and then called a repairman, who told me that the problem was probably due to a computer chip that needs replacing.  Until the part comes in, I continue to play oven roulette; allowing sufficient time to remake everything just in case the problem reoccurs.

The problem with my oven caused me to think about how much I take my stove for granted.  Modern ranges, with their easily adjusted settings and usually reliable ovens are a very recent invention. 

There were ovens even in prehistoric times, built of hardened mud.  They were common household fixtures in the Indus valley and in pre-dynastic Egypt.  In central Europe, fire pits in insulated yurts were used to cook mammoth as long ago as 29,000 BC but it was the Greeks who invented the front loaded oven, and it was they who developed bread baking into an art.  The bakers' profession developed in their culture, as bread was increasingly baked outside the home by trained professionals and then sold to the public. 

Even though the first cast iron stoves made their appearance in the 1700’s, they were not common in European homes.  In most villages, the baker owned the only oven.  If one wanted to bake something at home, a cauldron was used.  It was placed on the fire and banked with embers.  The heat from the embers transferred to the pot, cooking the food inside.

Gas stoves arrived in the 1800’s and electric stoves even later.  With the coming of the industrial revolution and the rise of the middle class, home ovens became more and more common.  By the 20^th century, most homes had an oven of some sort in their kitchens.

Time enough has passed that we have come to take the convenience of a home oven for granted.  Still it takes only one failure of this common appliance for us to be reminded of how very much they have changed our lives.

Mmmm! Cookies!

There are always cookies in the cookie jar at our house.  I know that they are no friend to my waistline but they are a homely food, bringing with them comfort and happy memories.  I enjoy serving them to my guests and I’ve noticed that a cookie offered is rarely refused.

The word cookie has evolved from the Dutch word koekje, or “little cake,” and it arrived in the English language through the Dutch in North America.  Koekje properly describes the origins of the cookie, which is believed to have found its beginning in cake baking.  Over time the two diverged, with water being the medium for cohesion in cake batter and oil the medium for cohesion in cookie dough. 

It is believed that cookies originated in 7^th century Persia and that they made their way to Europe with the Muslim conquest of Spain.  By the 14^th century, they were being baked throughout Europe.  The cookies of those times were popular fare with travelers.  They were hard and therefore durable, and most cookie recipes contained a large proportion of nuts, making them a good source of protein.  The food we now associate with the name “cookie”—made by creaming butter and sugar together to form the basis of the dough—didn’t become common until the 18^th century.  Now, though, this type of cookie is quite universal and has become the comfort food memory we most often associate with childhood. 

Cookies are easily baked and can be successfully made by even the most inexperienced baker.  They are often made from ingredients readily found in our pantries and, when home baked, can be quite economical to make.  I am glad to have them in the house; grateful for a small treat with my afternoon tea or for the opportunity to share them with friends. 

Can't Be Beet

It’s a rough time of year to buy vegetables.  Even I, who love winter vegetables, am getting a little tired of them.  My husband, who doesn’t love them quite so much, is openly rebelling each time he sees a root vegetable on his dinner plate.  We find ourselves succumbing to the lure of imported asparagus, snap peas, and spinach but, lovely as these treats are, we usually try to buy food grown closer to home, both to support local farmers and to help keep our budget on track.

When I brought home beets again today, there was an audible moan from the direction of the living room. I knew I had to change them up a bit in order to make tonight’s supper a little more appealing.  I decided to make beet risotto.  You might want to try this too.  Risotto is more a method than a recipe, but here are the general instructions:

Bring about a litre of chicken stock to a simmer.  While the chicken stock is heating, peel and finely grate a medium-sized beet.  Set it aside.  Zest an orange and set the zest aside.  Cut the orange in half.  You’ll need it later.  Finely chop about a half cup of onion. 

Pour about 2 Tbsp. of olive oil into a heavy bottomed pot and heat it over medium heat until surface of the oil begins to dimple and shimmer.  Add the chopped onion to the pot, together with about a cup of Arborio rice and sauté them until the onions are tender and each grain of rice is coated in oil.  The grains of rice should be a little bit translucent around the edges.  Add the grated beets, the orange zest and a couple of ladlefuls of stock.  Squeeze the juice from the orange into the pan. 

Stir the rice until the stock is mostly absorbed and then add more.  Continue stirring and adding more stock to the rice as needed, until it has reached the texture you prefer.  The risotto should have made its own sauce and be loose enough that it will spread when spooned onto your plate.

Some folks don’t consider a risotto finished until cheese has been added but I think that the beet and orange give this enough flavour that you can forgo the cheese.  If you are missing that creamy dairy texture, stir in some butter or some goat cheese.

Risotto needs to be served as soon as it is cooked.  This one should liven up your plate a bit; just look at the colour!

Aromatherapy

One of the best things about doing what I do is that I get to bake every single day.  Every baked good that I serve comes from my kitchen so early mornings find me baking bread, muffins, cookies and cakes.  I could just buy this stuff—there are lots of great bakeries—but then my kitchen wouldn’t smell nearly as nice.

There’s something universally appealing about the aroma of freshly baked bread. Years ago, when I worked at a bakery, the kitchen would get very hot so we would open the doors to help cool the room.  As soon as we did, the smell would draw people in.  It didn’t matter if it was two in the morning or three in the afternoon, if the aroma of baking bread was wafting out the door passers-by would stop, inhale deeply, and then follow their noses into the bakery.

I bake on a much smaller scale here but the response remains much the same:  My neighbours pause on the landing to enjoy that fresh-baked scent as they go by our door, and guests in my home invariably find themselves standing at the kitchen counter waiting for that first slice to be taken from a still-warm loaf of bread.  The aroma appeals to me too:  It stirs happy childhood memories and, even on the most hectic days, calms frayed nerves. There is no better aroma therapy than the smell of baking fresh from the oven.

Something in the Wind

People with allergies are closely attuned to the seasons.  Their itchy eyes and snuffly noses tell them the seasons’ progression as accurately and clearly as any calendar.  My eyes and nose, together with the pollen on the windshield of my car each morning, are telling me that the alders are pollinating.  I didn’t know though, until I drove by a nearby hazelnut farm, that the hazelnuts are pollinating too. 

The pollinating hazelnut trees got me thinking:  There aren’t many bees around right now so how are these trees being pollinated.  Could it be that the wind does the job for them?  I did some research online and, sure enough, that’s just how it happens.  The same breeze that deposits pollen on my windshield each day carries the pollen from tree to tree, helping to ensure a harvest of hazelnuts later in the year.

Thinking about the wind and about pollination made me think about the farmers who raise the hazelnuts and, indeed, about all farmers:  I’ve always admired the work ethic that keeps farmers farming.  (It's becoming increasingly more difficult for our farmers to make a go of it and yet they keep on working.)  What I hadn’t thought about until today is that farmers are also gamblers.  Every year they stake their livelihood on the vagaries of Mother Nature. 

The calm, clear days that we so long for are no friend to the hazelnut farmer.  They need the March winds to ensure the pollination of their crop.  And, like every farmer, they also need the right amounts of sun and rain—just enough, not too much or too little of either.

Farmers gamble each year that nature will provide the conditions that will carry them through to a good harvest and they gamble, too, that the harvest will not be so good that it causes prices to drop through over-supply.  Pretty gutsy, if you ask me.

Providence Farm

Established by the Sisters of Saint Ann in 1864, Providence Farm has been a part of the Cowichan Valley community for almost 150 years.  In 1979 the Sisters formed a partnership with the Vancouver Island Providence Association.  Together they created a community providing horticultural therapy and vocational training to people who are encountering barriers to education and employment.

Providence Farm grows organic produce and nursery plants and produces furniture and artwork, all of which are sold on site.  In supporting the farm, local residents benefit through the availability of high quality, locally grown produce.  The community as a whole benefits through the farm’s contribution to our food security.  Members of the Providence Farm community benefit through their interactions with each other, with the land itself, and with the many people who visit the farm each year. 

During these challenging times it’s particularly heartening to see such a positive, successful example of sustainable agriculture and supportive community.   If you’d like to learn more about Providence Farm you can visit their website at http://www.providence.bc.ca/ .