Maim Not Thy Velum

And other lessons from a week in the life of a hardcore pastry enthusiast

Dear Genital Reader*,

I’m not allowed to look at the statistics for this newsletter for the time being, so instead I’ve been gathering some of my own from this past week. Behold.

Number of dreams involving cress: 2

Time spent naked in a lay-by: 4 minutes and 34 seconds

Litres of tea absorbed: 10.5

Ounces of Bridgerton smoked: 8

Number of kilometres swum: 1

Number of drinking glasses smashed from stacking dishwasher like racoon on meth: 2

As you can see, excitement levels in this author’s house have been through the roof, which, incidentally has been covered in builders because the landlord said that the chimney’s fucked. Well, he didn’t say it quite like that but the point stands. Anyway, continuing the spirit of quick-fire newsletter emails, here’s some more wordy, food-related details of wot I been up to since last Friday. 

Best thing I ate this week

The Da’s got one of they Ooni hings.

If you’ve not lived North of the Wall long enough to know what that means, the rough translation is that Lewis’ father is the proprietor of a rather swanky pizza oven. And the best thing I ate this week was the pizza that came out of it on Sunday night.

Maw and Da have got the dough recipe dialled in, using proper ‘00 flour and a nice long ferment; that gluten structure is a bloody joy to work with beforehand. At 500c, the Ooni takes all of 35 seconds to cook it as well - in no time at all, that virgin dough emerges all grown up, wearing sexy leopard print crusts. Oh, it’s chewy and crispy and wonderful, and actually holds its shape in comparison to other Neapolitan style pizza. 10/10.

Worst thing I ate this week

Not anything resolutely grim like the spinach gnocchi from last week, but landing near the bottom of the fodder chart was Pret’s Scandi style salmon roll. Too much mustard. Hardly any salmon. Flaccid cucumber. And they charge you** £5.50 for the privilege. Creative suggestments for good train station grab-and-go ideas (other than make your own scran, which is my usual approach) are welcome in the comments.

Best thing I made this week

Profiteroles filled with a light coffee and ricotta mousse, covered in a shiny mocha glaze. I am forever mourning the fact I’ll never be allowed to apply for GBBO due to things like already having a cookbook and swearing like a hotdog at every minor inconvenience, so I’m making up for it by doing fancy things with patisserie and then having toast for lunch for 3 days straight.  

Worst thing I made this week

Cherry and pear puff pastry tart, which wasn’t bad initially, but then got exponentially worse when I left the tray sitting on the ring of the hob I’d forgotten to turn off. The opposite of a soggy bottom happened, and the tart was to be banished outside. I took the tray with me too, to stop the room getting smoky. 

Thrift of the week

Getting a 4-day Aldi shop for two people down to £22.09 because I got there just as the lass was plastering 50% off stickers everywhere. This included a 1.8KG chicken for £2.29, which fed four initially, then Lewis came home after work the next day and piranha-ed the carcass before I could even croak “risotto”. Still made stock, though. 

Honourable munchions

Also made some jam tarts because I felt a strong desire to time travel back to 1951.

Have a recipe.

• 100g cold butter

• 200g plain flour

• Pinch of salt

• 1 tbsp of icing sugar

• 2 tbsp of ice-cold water

• 1 jar of jam, of your choosing. I choosed strawberry.  

Chop the butter into cubes then either blend in a food processor with the flour and salt, or rub with your fingertips to make something that might, possibly, look like breadcrumbs. Stir through the icing sugar. 

Add the cold water, then press everything into a ball (you may need slightly more water but only add it if it’s not coming together when pressed - you don’t explicitly want to knead this pastry as it’ll get tough due to the gluten all ganging up on you). Cover the ball in clingfilm or wrap, then chill it in the fridge for 30 minutes.

Put the oven to 200c (fan). Roll out the tart dough to around the thickness of a USB dongle. Grease a 12 hole muffin tin/fairy cake tin with butter or oil, then stamp out rounds which will fit in the holes. Press the pastry rounds into the holes, then fill with just less than a tablespoon of the jam (better to under-fill than overfill, or you end up with caramelised jam cement lava). 

Bake for 15-20 minutes until the pastry is golden and the jam is bubbling. While they’re still hot, take them out of the tin carefully, then leave to cool for at least another 20 minutes on a wire rack. Or you will maim your velum. 

Outlook

Who knows what drivel you’re getting next week, but I’m in London this weekend (again) so fun food things will happen for sure. Will also probably do a feature about how great Cote’s set menu is at some point, but not pressuring myself to do that until I’ve sampled everything on it, and I’m only halfway through, as it stands.

See yas next week, lads. Cheers, as always, for being here.

*If you’ve not been watching hot people in period dress visit each other’s houses on Netflix, this joke is lost on you, and I’m sorry.

**am expensing it but it’s still a waste