- Full Title: Bake Happy
- Autor: Gail Bussi
- Print Length: 192 pages
- Publisher: Struik Lifestyle; 1 edition
- Publication Date: March 1, 2014
- Language: English
- ISBN-10: B00GJJ5L00
- Download File Format | Size: epub | 19,62 Mb
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ISBN : 978-2-412-02306-8
ISBN numérique : 9782412026540
Dépôt légal : mars 2017
Direction éditoriale : Aurélie Starckmann
Édition : Laurence Granier
Mise en page : Istria
Photographie de couverture : © Amélie Roche, stylisme de Julie Schwob
Photographies intérieures : © Sucré Salé // Stockfood
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Un bon repas peut-il vraiment se passer d’une touche finale sucrée ? N’est-ce pas frustrant de se lever de table sans quelque douceur ?
Vous aimez les desserts ? Vous avez la nostalgie des crèmes et des gâteaux de votre enfance ?
Vous êtes séduit par les associations inventives de fruits, d’épices ? Ne vous privez pas plus longtemps. Il n’est pas nécessaire d’avoir du temps ni d’être expert pour préparer des desserts savoureux.
Voici quelques conseils pour terminer vos repas sur une note gourmande :
Premier principe à respecter : harmoniser le dessert avec les plats qui le précèdent. Après une entrée et un plat légers, vous pouvez sans scrupules servir ou prendre un dessert riche. Mais, après un plat riche, pensez aux digestions difficiles et prévoyez un dessert frais et léger.
Pour confectionner vos desserts, ne vous contentez pas de produits de basse qualité ; choisissez des fruits en pleine maturité, du beurre fin, des œufs très frais.
Si vous vous préoccupez de votre ligne, ne bannissez pas les desserts. Remplacez le sucre par un édulcorant thermostable et orientez-vous plutôt vers les recettes à base de fruits.
Utilisez des fruits surgelés hors saison ; vous pourrez ainsi déguster un sorbet aux framboises en plein hiver.Ce Petit Livre vous propose 100 desserts à l’ancienne ou au goût du jour, simples à réaliser, pour les petits comme pour les grands, de la toute subtile compote à la rhubarbe et aux fraises à l’inattendu minestrone de fruits au basilic, du classique soufflé au chocolat à l’exotique granité de pamplemousse au citron vert, de la somptueuse tarte à la confiture de framboises au familial gâteau de riz aux pommes, des traditionnelles crêpes Suzette à la délicate marquise au chocolat.
Compote de clémentines
à la grenadine
4 10 min 15 min
• 800 g de clémentines • 60 g de sucre • 4 cuil. à soupe de grenadine
1 Versez le sucre dans une casserole, arrosez de 2 dl d’eau et portez à ébullition. Baissez le feu et faites réduire un peu. 2 Pelez les clémentines, ôtez les pépins et les peaux blanches. Mettez-les dans le sirop et laissez cuire à petit feu pendant 10 minutes. 3 Laissez refroidir à température ambiante, puis ajoutez la grenadine, mélangez bien et répartissez dans 4 coupes.
Notre conseil : accompagnez cette compote de mendiants de Provence.
Compote à la rhubarbe
et aux fraises
4 15 min 2 h 25 min
• 600 g de rhubarbe • 200 g de fraises • 100 g de cassonade
1 Épluchez la rhubarbe, coupez-la en tronçons, mettez-la dans une casserole avec la cassonade et laissez macérer 2 heures. 2 Faites-la cuire ensuite pendant 20 minutes en mélangeant souvent. Goûtez pour vérifier que la compote est assez sucrée, la rhubarbe étant acide. Ajoutez de la cassonade si nécessaire. 3 Lavez rapidement les fraises, équeutez-les, coupez-les si elles sont grosses. Ajoutez-les à la rhubarbe et prolongez la cuisson 5 minutes. 4 Laissez un peu refroidir. Servez tiède dans un compotier ou dans des verres.
Nos conseils : vous pouvez utiliser de la rhubarbe surgelée. Servez éventuellement cette compote avec une glace à la vanille.
Compote d’abricots au tilleul
et aux amandes
4 10 min 10 min 15 min
• 1 kg d’abricots mûrs • 1 poignée de feuilles de tilleul • 4 cuil. à soupe de miel de tilleul • 4 cuil. à soupe d’amandes effilées
1 Mettez les feuilles de tilleul dans un grand bol, recouvrez-les de 3 dl d’eau bouillante et laissez infuser 10 minutes. Passez l’infusion et versez-la dans une casserole. Ajoutez le miel. 2 Ouvrez les abricots en deux, ôtez le noyau et coupez les oreillons en morceaux. Mettez-les dans la casserole et laissez cuire à petit feu jusqu’à ce que le sir
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them around for a meal that isn’t usually an entertainment proposition, like breakfast or a late supper. Ask friends who genuinely don’t care that your house is a mess. And instead of labouring over an intricate feast, show your thoughtfulness for your friends in other ways; if they’re vegan or gluten-free or Muslim, cook something that works for them but isn’t obviously an afterthought.
Cooking for people in your home isn’t about showing off. It’s about delighting the people you love, while also remembering to actually spend time with them, not weeping in the kitchen as you espalier a dozen quail or whatever. (And yes, I know that’s not even the right verb.) My dear old friend and partner in cookery writing, Wendy Sharpe, is an odd cocktail of kitchen impulses. On the one hand, she will not hesitate to cater a friend’s entire birthday party/wedding/child’s christening, even if it involves three days’ work and a million canapés. On the other hand, she will routinely declare herself too lazy to grate cheese.
But isn’t that what cooking’s about? It’s entirely subjective. Wendy has worked out the things she finds stressful (fancy birthday cakes, for instance) and hit on ways to avoid them. She has also utterly convinced me that there is no disgrace in serving the same dish more than once. If you’re good at cooking it, and your guests like it, then keep on serving it!
So don’t be menaced by expectations of multiple courses and pressed linen and children who waft off to bed at 7.25pm. Look after your friends, be generous, and trim the sails of your culinary ambition. In the end, cooking for others is an act of generosity. And that means knowing their needs, and being able to cater for them in a way that doesn’t feel like you’re making a great effort; that’s the ancient principle of hospitality.
We’ve made this book largely vegetarian (with some seafood), because that’s how we both eat. But there are plenty of opportunities for the addition of meat, and we’ve included lists in the index to help locate recipes that can be made vegan or gluten-free. Most recipes in the book are halal, or can be made so, but much will depend on the antecedents of the ingredients you buy (the source of rennet in cheese, the fermentation process of vinegars, and so on), so be sure to check your shopping basket and read labels carefully when cooking for Muslim guests.
Often, it is assumed that an omnivore-type dish is standard, with any vegetarians or gluten-avoiders present expected to eat the main dish, but with the offending elements omitted. And, as a guest, I’m always more than happy with that. But if you stop thinking of a guest with a particular dietary requirement as a problem, and start thinking laterally, what emerges is an opportunity to cook something new. And if your omnivore friends get something exciting and a night off from meat and three veg, and your vegan friend gets to eat the same as everyone else for once, then that sounds like a recipe for a good night.
So many cookbooks published today are about how to take care of yourself; how to get leaner or less depressed, or how to achieve a more smoothly functioning gut. This one is about how to look after other people. We hope it brings you joy.
I have some lovely early memories of dinner parties at my grandmother’s house. The men wore ties, the ladies wore chiffon and guest arrival was heralded by a gorgeous mix of Nina Ricci perfume and Old Spice. My own excitement really started when my grandmother clipped on her earrings, ready for the evening ahead. It was always the same four couples – friends for decades. They ate in the separate dining room with the special plates (warmed!) and silver placemats. They had three courses, with the proper rows of cutlery laid out. I could hear from my bedroom at the top of the house, laughing and clanking of plates. I drifted off to sleep happy and hopeful about the prospect of leftovers for me in the morning.
If my grandmother found cooking for ten people and looking after a small grandchild for the evening stressful, she didn’t show it. The formal table settings, the ironed linen, the ever immaculate house, it all seemed effortless. She dressed for dinner, for goodness sake!
But my hosting looks nothing like those sparkly dinner parties from the mid seventies. Houses have changed shape, walls have been knocked through and separate dining rooms have melted into vast eat-in kitchens. The food we eat has changed; the smells of garlic and cumin chickpeas might have replaced the wafts of roast lamb. And you rarely hear the swish of chiffon when guests drop by these days (more is the pity, we would contest). Your crockery will more likely be whatever you find (hopefully) clean in the dishwasher, not the Royal Doulton carefully lifted out from a shiny chiffonier.
But does it matter? Not a sausage! At the heart of why we invite people to our house for food is that
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An Indian squaw, forgetting her boiling sweet water from the maple tree, found maple sugar in the bottom of her cooking pot, thus pleasing her mighty hunter upon his return.
So was the first maple product eagerly devoured.
EARLY METHOD OF BOILING SYRUP
* * *
“There is in some parts of New England a kind of tree whose juice that weeps out of its incision, if it is permitted slowly to exhale away the superfluous moisture, doth congeal into a sweet and saccharin substance and the like was confirmed to me by the agent of the great and populous colony of Massachusetts.”
ENGLISH CHEMIST ROBERT BOYLE, PHILOSOPHICAL WORKS, 1663
* * *
COLLECTING THE SAP
In preparation for the maple sugaring season, the Woodland tribes made sap containers of birch bark called mokuks, which were sewn together with strips of elm bark and sealed with pine resin. Each mokuk could hold between six and eight quarts, and each family would construct great numbers of them in anticipation of harvesting sap from several hundred trees.
During the Maple Moon of early spring, entire villages emptied to set up camp in the sugar bush (akin to the old legends!) to both work and celebrate the season. Iroquois tradition included filling the mokuks with intricately designed sugar cakes and performing a maple dance when the hard work was done.
To collect as much sap as possible, the sugar gatherers would break off limbs and severely slash trunks up to four inches (10 cm) deep and nine inches (23 cm) wide in a crude V- or Y-shape, then wedge a reed or concave piece of bark in the notch to direct the flow into the mokuk. In addition to slashing sugar maple, they scored black maple, red maple, walnut, hickory, box elder, butternut, birch, sycamore, and basswood trees.
After two seasons of such treatment, however, the trees would die, and the harvesters would simply move to another portion of their inexhaustible forest. Since the forests were constantly renewing themselves, nothing was permanently lost and much valuable sugar was gained in the short run.
The earliest known container for collecting sap is the mokuk, made of birch bark and sealed with pine resin.
STORING THE SUGAR
These early harvesters would drink the runny sap as a sweet tonic or use it in their cooking, but had little further use for it, as it soon spoiled. They would keep some of the sap in mokuks and transfer the rest to hollowed-out logs or vats made from moose skins. If it froze, they’d simply toss off the ice and boil the remaining, now more concentrated, sweet sap.
Because the bark containers could not be placed over a fire, stones were heated in the fire and then dropped directly into the sap to boil it. A steady stream of incoming hot rocks kept the sap steaming while cooler stones were removed and cycled back through the fire. In later times, a soapstone bowl or a kettle of clay or iron suspended over the fire shortened both the labor and time required to thicken the sap into syrup.
Indians gathering sap
The Indians would continue to boil the syrup until most of the moisture evaporated to make one of three kinds of dry sugar, which was a much more durable and portable commodity. Pouring syrup on snow made a taffylike wax sugar, stirring the extra-thick syrup in a mokuk crystallized it into cake sugar, and beating the dry remnants made a coarse and granulated grain sugar, similar in texture to today’s brown cane sugar.
These forms of sugar allowed men to take the treat with them for use as food during long winter hunts or as valuables for bartering. Each member of the tribe could carry a personal supply in a convenient neck pouch or leather drawstring bag as a prized and vital part of his or her diet. Indeed, one anthropological study of human remains from the Woodland period estimated that an adult Lenape Indian may have eaten up to a pound of maple sugar a day!
Boiling sap in a wooden trough
“Can it be that thou art so simple as to ask me such a question, seeing that the Master of Life has imparted to us an instinct which enables us to substitute stone hatchets and knives for those made of steel by the whites; wherefore should we not have known as well as they how to manufacture sugar? He has made us all, that we should enjoy life; he has placed before us all the requisites for the support of existence, food, water, fire, trees, etc.; wherefore then should he have withheld from us the art of excavating the trees in order to make troughs of them, of placing sap in these, of heating the stones and throwing them into the sap so as to cause it to boil, and by this means reducing it to sugar”.
KICKAPOO CHIEF JOSÉ RENARD, upon being questioned whether Indians had made maple sugar prior to contact with white men, 1824
ENJOYING THE BOUNTY
Different tribes used maple products in
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merican- or European-born)
Israel, Jerusalem (native-born)
Israel, Jerusalem (Asian- or African-born)
United Kingdom, Oxford
USA, District of Columbia (African-American)
Croatia (low-calcium region)
New Zealand (Maori)
Croatia (high-calcium region)
South Africa, Johannesburg (black)
SOURCE: Melton, J. L. “Epidemiology of Fractures,” in Osteoporosis: Etiology, Diagnosis, and Management, B.L. Riggs and L. J. Melton (eds.), Raven Press: New York, 1988.
TABLE 1.2 1992, Yale Researchers
Age-adjusted rates per 100,000 population for women over age 50
Hip Fracture Rate
Data Collected During
United States (white)
United States (white)
United States (nonwhite)
United States (nonwhite)
South Africa (black)
Papua New Guinea
SOURCE: Abelow, B. J. et al. “Cross-Cultural Association Between Dietary Animal Protein and Hip Fracture: A Hypothesis,” Calcefi ed Tissue International (1992) 50:14.
TABLE 1.3 2000, University of California, San Francisco, Researchers
Age-adjusted rates per 100,000 population for women over age 50
Hip Fracture Rate
SOURCE: Frassetto, L. A. et al. “Worldwide Incidence of Hip Fracture in Elderly Women: Relation to Consumption of Animal and Vegetable Foods,” Journal of Gerontology: Medical Sciences (2000) 55:M585.
TABLE 1.4 2006, Tehran University Medical School, Iran, Researchers
Age-adjusted rates per 100,000 population for women over age 50
Hip Fracture Rate
Germany (former West)
Germany (former East)
SOURCE: Moayyeri, A. et al. “Epidemiology of Hip Fractures in Iran: Results from Iranian Multicenter Study on Accidental Injuries,” Osteoporosis International (2006) 17: 1252.
These studies take different approaches and use different source studies to calculate fracture rates. As a result, the four studies’ findings differ. Nonetheless, their results are strikingly similar. By and large, the highest rates of hip fracture cluster among Western countries: North America, Europe (especially northern Europe), Australia, and New Zealand. Hip fracture is much less of a problem in Africa, Asia, and South America.
Clearly, osteoporosis is not inevitable. What, then, accounts for the vast differences worldwide?
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page). It is definitely worth having white pepper around, but if you don’t have any on hand, you can substitute black pepper. With either one, I recommend getting whole peppercorns, which keep fresh longer. Use a pepper mill or spice grinder, or crush them using a mortar and pestle, when needed.
common spices While Nordic flavors can be delicate, as with gravlax, they can also be rich and full-bodied like Christmas Sausage (this page), which is spiced with allspice, ginger, and cloves. These three spices are often mixed together or used by themselves to flavor brines and stews. Both cloves and ginger are also commonly used in the fruity and savory bread vörtbröd. Together with cinnamon and cardamom, they add unbeatable flavor to spicy sweet treats like Swedish gingersnap cookies and the mulled wine glögg. Although these spices are used year-round, it’s clear that together they belong in the rustic dishes of the winter season.
Caraway, fennel, and aniseed are all characteristic flavors in Nordic bread baking. They can be used individually or together, whole, toasted, or slightly crushed. All three are also common ingredients when infusing Aquavit (this page), the traditional Scandinavian-infused vodka.
Juniper is a native plant in all of the Nordic countries and has been a common flavor ever since olden times, when the berries were crushed between stones and used to flavor stews and soups. The berries are commonly used in game dishes like venison, elk, and reindeer, while the branches are used when smoking meat or fish. In this book, juniper berries are used in an aromatic broth when making Chicken Liver Mousse (this page).
Spices are always best when fresh, so whenever possible, buy whole spices, which keep fresh longer. Use a spice grinder or coffee grinder or crush using a mortar and pestle, when needed.
dill and other herbs Dill is probably the most characteristic herb in all of the Scandinavian countries. Its feathery leaves are not only decorative but also provide great flavor for fish, meats, sauces, and vinaigrettes. The blossoms and seeds are used in brines and to flavor crayfish in August (see this page), while the thick stems can be used in fish stocks and when boiling fresh potatoes.
Other popular herbs in Scandinavia include chives, marjoram, parsley, rosemary, salvia, tarragon, and thyme. In general, I use fresh herbs, especially for garnishes, cold sauces, and salads. Dried herbs can be substituted in cooked dishes—just remember to reduce the amount the recipe calls for.
Smörgåskrasse (garden cress) is a tiny peppery herb commonly sprinkled fresh on top of several smörgås spreads. In flavor it’s similar to watercress or nasturtium, but in size and appearance it looks more like the top of a sprout. In Sweden smörgåskrasse is the first thing almost any child learns how to grow, because it’s super-simple: all you only need to do is sprinkle seeds on top of a damp paper towel or a small piece of cotton fabric (see diagram above). In just a few days the seeds will sprout and be ready to harvest simply by cutting them with a pair of scissors. It adds a peppery flavor when sprinkled on scrambled eggs, tomatoes, smoked fish, or roasted asparagus. Unfortunately, it’s not the easiest herb to find outside Scandinavia, either fresh or as seeds. But they do exist (see Resources on this page). If you can’t find any, I recommend substituting with watercress, nasturtiums, or even mustard greens or arugula. None of these share the garden cress’s modest size, but their peppery flavor will work just fine.
mustard A variety of mustards is always present on a smörgåsbord, as well as for everyday meals at home. They can be sweet and mild, strong and nose-burning hot, or full of texture and character. Swedes like mustard with ham, all kinds of sausages, gravlax, poached cod, or a traditional yellow pea soup. Without much effort you can easily make your own Whole-Grain Mustard (this page). Whole yellow mustard seeds are used in pickling brines for fish and vegetables, while whole brown and black seeds are used when making mustard. Because they are such a great smörgås condiment, I have included a recipe for Pickled Mustard Seeds (this page), even if they are not a typical Scandinavian staple.
horseradish There is no doubt that horseradish is a popular ingredient in Nordic cuisine, and some Scandinavians like it best when it tickles the nose. For the smörgås spreads in this book, it’s used either fresh or in the form of a Horseradish Relish (this page). When buying fresh horseradish, make sure the root feels fresh, not dry and soft. The root is best stored in a cool, dark place.
nordic cheeses With the average Swede consuming over 42 pounds (19 kg) of it each year, cheese is certainly the most popular smörgås spread in Sweden. Typical Swedish cheeses are hard cow’s milk cheeses that are bought in large chunks and sl
ultivated with huge swaths of olive groves. The oil produced is so extraordinary it qualifies for Denominação de Origem Protegida (DOP) demarcation, guaranteeing it was produced and processed in this region using local traditions and techniques. The northern region boasts vast vegetable farms of beans, corn, tomatoes, and green peppers plus orchards of apples and lemons. To the south, the land opens up into wide fields of bluegrass and lezírias, or marshes, where Arabian horses and black bulls graze freely. Farther south grow long rows of irregularly spaced olive and cork trees, looking at first glance like combs with missing teeth. In the spring, the river overflows its banks, creating an alluvial plain, where rice—a staple of the Portuguese diet—is tended.
What to Eat
Sopa de pedra (“stone soup,” filled with pork ribs, sausage, beans, root vegetables, and cabbage); enguias (eels—stewed, fried, or grilled), açorda de sável (here, a bread soup made with shad roe); ovas de sável à pescador (grilled shad roe); arroz de tomate (tomato rice); lebrada (hare stewed in red wine); and pão-de-ló (here, an ethereally light sponge cake moistened with flavored syrups).
What to Drink
Wines from Casa Cadaval, Falua Sociedade de Vinhos S.A., João Portugal Ramos, Quinta da Casal Branco, Quinta do Falcão, Quinta da Lagoalva, and Pinhal da Torre.
ALTO ALENTEJO (ahl-too ah-len-tay-zhoo) and BAIXO ALENTEJO (buy-shoo ah-len-tay-zhoo)
This immense region regally commands almost a third of the country, and its undulating hills are dotted with gorgeous whitewashed villages that have for centuries attracted admirers from around the world.
The province is a continuum of color because of its agriculture. In spring, the wide plains in the south are caught up in blizzards of almond blossoms, while the long roads that connect the great halves of the region—alto (upper) and baixo (lower)—are lined with brilliant yellow broom. Beyond, vast fields of wheat, rye, oats, and barley stretch to the horizon, for this is the center of Portugal’s grain industry. Here, too, are endless groves of luscious sweet oranges, greengage plums, and apricots.
In the summer, the punishing sun, which can blast well over 100°F at midday, mutes the colors. It’s then that the silvery-green olive trees and the much darker cork oaks, which produce two thirds of the world’s supply, stand out in stark contrast to the now-straw-colored fields. Into these groves farmers let loose their famous porco preto, or black pigs, encouraging them to gorge on the oaks’ fallen acorns to fatten them up before the winter matança, or slaughter.
What to Eat
Gaspacho (Portuguese version of the cold soup, filled with chopped sweet red or green peppers, garlic, cucumbers, and dense bread softened with a tomato-vinegar broth); açorda Alentejana (intensely flavored cilantro and garlic broth, poured over day-old bread and topped with a poached egg); empadas de galinha (savory chicken pies); carne de porco à Alentejana (pork cubes and clams served over fried potatoes); and migas (literally “bread crumbs,” moistened day-old bread suffused, for example, with pork drippings or mixed with spinach, molded into ovals, and pan-fried).
What to Drink
Wines from Adega Cooperativa de Borba, Caves Aliança, Cortes de Cima, Eugénio de Almeida, Francisco Nunes Garcia, Herdade da Calada, Herdade da Malhadinha Nova, Herdade do Esporão, João Portugal Ramos, Margarida Cabaço, Monte do Trevo, Paulo Laureano, Quinta Dona Maria (Júlio Tassara Bastos), Quinta do Carmo, Quinta do Mouro, and Tapada de Coelheiros.
Nearly one hundred miles of white-sand beaches, secret caves, and year-round mild weather are what draws tourists to the Algarve. Most crowd along the shoreline in the resort towns of Faro, Lagos, and Albufeira, with their world-class golf courses and world-class (read: international) food. But world-class natural beauty refuses to be elbowed out of the way: not far from Faro is the Parque Natural da Ria Formosa lagoon, a barrier-islands system that’s a beloved national park. Praia da Marinha, with its ocean-carved cliffs and hidden grottos filled with azure water, has often been named one of the most beautiful and best-preserved beaches in the world.
In the still-pristine and underdeveloped western areas as well as along the lagoons east of Faro, it’s easy to find restaurants that staunchly refuse to cave to the whims of the estrangeiros, or foreigners. What, then, are the culinary muses of these establishments? Local crops of rice, almonds, oranges, lemons, figs, and, of course, any creature from the sea.
What to Eat
Sardinhas assadas (grilled sardines); polvo frito (fried octopus); lulas recheadas (squid stuffed with cured meats and cooked in a tomato-onion sauce); búzios com feijão (clam, oyster, snail, and bean stew); amêijoas na cataplana (clam