Foodie Readings & Other Stuff

Having previously talked about my adoration of libraries, and of books in general, I feel I should admit that mostly I read crap. Chick-lit, crime fiction, so-obvious-it's-almost-ridiculous whodunnits, and so on. Occasionally I'll pick up something great, more often it's escapist reading of the highest order. Recently I picked up the above book: Finding Betty Crocker: The Secret Life of America's First Lady of Food. I'm don't read a huge number of non-recipe food-related books but this one caught my eye as I've always liked Betty. Not that we're friends or anything, just that I'd grown up using "her" products and she really was a symbol of Americana food.

Needless to say I came crashing back down to earth when I found out that she wasn't real. She was simply a marketing tool devised by some seriously clever folk at Gold Medal Flour. The book traces the history of Betty - from her appearances in newspapers to radio shows to live appearances to guest spots on TV. For many women (and men) she was the end-all-and-be-all in kitchen wisdom and hope, in particular during the Depression. Even Eleanor Roosevelt wrote to Betty asking for cooking advice! There are also a number of photos tracing Betty's visual history; from what she looked like in the early print ads to her more recent portrait updates. A bit like Barbie, Betty doesn't really age - in fact she seems to be getting a bit younger as time goes on (and minus the Botox!)

As far as the book itself, it was an interesting, quick read - while not a total page-turner, it still provided a fascinating insight into the world of baking marketing. In addition to following Betty the woman it also follows the product line, including noting the "horror" of the baking public when cake mixes first became available. Now, of course, there are whole cookbooks devoted to baking via a cake mix (sacrilege, people. Sacrilege!) An interesting read - for bakers and non-bakers alike.

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Readers of this blog will know that on occasion I mention my friends...and to protect their innocence I tend to refer to them by various nicknames. Now one of those nicknames/people has taken on a blogging life of their own! Go on over there, have a look and be supportive, okay? Not only because I said so, but because, well... I said so!

The Baker's Wife goes online!

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...and for those following the resolution, all is going well. Most weeks have far exceeded the 140 minute mark, and I'm really getting into it. I will admit some days it's harder to find those 20 minutes than I thought. Other days, I find myself lo0king at the watch and thinking, "40 minutes already? How did that happen?" More on this later on. In the meantime, be prepared for a phone call from me. :)

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...and lastly, in "hungry three" news, First Grade starts tomorrow. I am sitting here resisting the urge to start crying and yelling, "My babies! My babies!" (although I reserve the right to do that tomorrow after I've dropped them off.)

A Few of my Favourite Things

I adore libraries. Where else can you have access to an entire bookshop, FOR FREE, which has a great returns policy, doesn't mind if you dog-ear the pages (although courtesy dictates you shouldn't), has books on every topic you're interested in, stocks best-sellers, has back issues of all the magazines you can't justify buying, and these days has high speed Internet access? Libraries totally rock. I don't love the whole shhhhhh! have to be vewwy vewwy qwiet thing, but I cope because I am among paper. With words. You know my whole M n' M procedure? I've got one for library books, too. Best I not go into that or you'll start to believe the rumours about me.

Most often I stick to the fiction section, but sitting in the "readers recommend" shelf (eg the stuff the librarians can't be bothered to put away) was a baking book - Sue Lawrence's Book of Baking. I opened it to have a look and the first recipe I came to was the one which said, "take this book home!" It incorporated 3 of my favourite pastry things - chocolate, meringue and lemon. Now I don't usually like all three together, and I'm definetly not sure about the lemon and chocolate thing, but finding this recipe first was kismet.

Chocolate Meringue Cake
115g / 4 oz unsalted butter, softened
115g / 4 oz golden caster sugar*
3 large eggs
55g / 2 oz cocoa powder
100g / 3.5 oz self raising flour
50ml / 2 fl oz milk

For the meringue:
3 large egg whites (saved from above)
1/4 tsp cream of tartar
140g/ 5 oz golden caster sugar

For the lemon curd cream**:
2 heaped tablespoons (homemade) lemon curd
200g / 7oz creme fraiche

* I didn't have golden caster sugar, so I just used standard (in the US: Superfine) caster sugar and added 2 T of golden syrup. I don't really see why the golden version is necessary in the first place, so feel free to enlighten me if you know.

** I was lucky enough to have my SIL's lemon curd in the fridge. I used DOUBLE the amount of curd, and straight cream instead of creme fraiche.

1. Preheat the oven to 170C / 325F and grease two 20cm/8 inch cake tins (do not use deep ones).
2. Beat together butter and sugar until light and fluffy.
3. Add the yolks, one at a time, beating well between each. Gradually sift in the cocoa, flour and a pinch of salt. Pour in the milk and mix lightly until smooth. Spoon half into each of the prepared tins, smoothing out to the edges.
4. For the meringue, beat the whites with a pinch of salt and the cream of tartar until soft peaks form. Then gradually add sugar and continue whisking until thick and shiny.
5. Spoon the meringue gently over both cakes and bake for 20 minutes or until meringue is golden. Cool completely in the tins.
6. Carefully remove from the tins and place one cake, meringue side up, on a plate. Beat together the lemon curd and creme fraiche and spread over the top of the meringue. Put the second cake over this, meringue side up. Eat on the day.

...and here's the review, in pictures:


This mixture was a bit of a nightmare. It was really thick, really dense, and quite bitter - seems like a LOT of cocoa for such a small amount of batter. It took a fair amount of patient pallet knife action to get it to the edges of the tins.

I got all excited by this sight in my oven - bubbly, gorgeous craters of meringue. It didn't last.


Within mere seconds of the cakes (gently, gently) coming out of the oven, the meringue had collapsed spectacularly. Which, going by the picture in the book, is meant to happen. I was still sad about it though!

Having followed the rest of the procedure, the finished product looked precisely as it does in the book (note background below), even with decorative lemon curd dripping...

As a cake though - it sucked. I like the idea of this, but the recipe in this case failed me. The cake itself was really not sweet at all, and really dry. The curd thing worked, but only because I used loads more curd than was required - and if I'd used the creme fraiche, there again would be not much sweetness. The meringue, although sweet, squashes down to hardly anything so it's not adding a lot in the taste stakes either. I also assumed that the meringue would somehow "stick" to the cake...and it didn't, really. Well, let's just say Kiki and I managed to easily peel it off the top when we got sick of eating dry cake! Overall not a fabulous cake, but I've already thought of how to re-construct this to make it better. Stay turned for the emzee version of this flavour combo...experiments await.

A Foodie Book Review

The above book: "Cooking for Kings: The life of Antonin Careme, the first celebrity chef" was a birthday gift from Louisa-Lou. It should be noted that last year Louisa Lou got me a book entitled "Still Bitter, More Baggage" so it's nice to know I am moving up in her world, in a literary sense anyway.

On first glance this book looked interesting, even though it's not really the sort of thing I would pick up for myself. However with chapter headings such as "Pastry Boy" and 'The Cook, his Book, His Wife and His Lover' - how bad could it be? And so I spent part of my summer delving into the amazing world of Marie Antoine (Antonin) Careme - whose birth in 1783 would go on to influence chefs for thousands of years hence. The book is written in a fairly simplistic style - basic explanations and descriptions rather than drawing grandiose mental pictures for the reader. It makes for a quick read - and while I could argue that it's not exactly "gripping," it was fascinating to read of banquets served 'a la Francaise' which consisted of literally hundreds of dishes, many of which would never be eaten. They were often served at the wrong temperature, out of the reach of the guests, and out of refrigeration or cooking for several hours before serving. A prolific cookbook writer (he had about 12 tomes to his name), pastry artist and talented chef, it isn't really Careme's personality which shines here. This biography is basically a glorified resume - but the food he prepares, and the influence he had are what lift this to a very entertaining and often inspiring read. Of equal interest are the politics and changing times of his career - Careme cooked for Napoleon as well as the Rothschild Family .

The book contains a number of his original recipes and menus, and I defy anyone to read these and not be at least tempted to try executing one or another of them. Sadly, his books are not widely read today - and his name perhaps a bit forgotten by modern chefs - but we are talking about a chef whose influence cannot be denied. Among his legacies - cookbooks (Careme was one of the first to write everything down), the chef's toque, the piped meringue, the 'service a la russe' method of serving (in courses rather than as buffet), the vol-au-vent, the bouquet garni, his development of the 5 stages of sugar - the list goes on and on. Ultimately it would be his passion which would be his downfall, as Careme died a common death of the day - too much time spent in underground, poorly ventilated coal-driven kitchens.

In short, this one is a must-read for any chef or foodie, if for nothing else than to preserve Careme's greatest gift to all chefs: the importance of the sharing and passing down of knowledge.