There is a tradition in Romania to welcome guests with a little tray of homemade fruit confiture or jam, a glass of cold water and a coffee. When the fruit is ready for harvest, from mid-summer onwards, we turn into a nation of jam and marmalade makers. Later on in the autumn we start pickling green tomatoes and cabbages in brine and peppers in vinegar, as well as making drinks. There are also more elaborate delicacies, such as stuffed peppers or pickled fruits, the latter sometimes with fish.
It is a never-ending process and when I was little, it was a family (and compulsory) effort. My sister and I both had to pitch in and help however we could, very often having to spend the weekends ensuring that rows and rows of jars were prepared and carefully aligned in cupboards for use later in the year.
We didn’t have a house with a pantry, in fact our apartment was really small, and these jars were sometimes split between a cupboard in the hallway, the bookcases in the living room and some wooden shelves on the balcony. But even so, it was delightful and reassuring to know that we had all these delicacies in the house.
Fermented sauerkraut-style cabbage and green tomatoes
This is a famous duo in the Romanian world of pickles. If you only make this recipe, you will be sorted for the winter. We’ll use a 3-litre (51/4-pint) jar here but back home, the cabbages would be fermented in large 30-litre (7-gallon) barrels kept on the balcony of our apartment. It was my dad’s task to look after them, he was the pickle ‘affineur’. The cabbage was either dry-salted to draw out the liquid from the leaves or brine was added to aid the fermentation. Although generally associated with German cookery, this method was actually spread across Europe by the Tatars in the 13th century with the Mongol invasion. Gogonele, the green tomatoes, are traditionally fermented in 10-litre (2-gallon) jars and if you have a glut of unripe tomatoes, this is a good use for them.
Makes 2 × 3-litre (51/4-pint) jars
For the cabbage leaves:
1 large white cabbage
20g (3/4oz) mix of dill and fennel seeds
4–5 juniper berries
1 apple, sliced
3 bay leaves
1 bunch of fresh lovage (optional)
Slices of fresh horseradish (optional)
For the green tomatoes:
1kg (21/4lb) green tomatoes
1 carrot, sliced
1 parsnip, sliced
3–4 garlic cloves, peeled
For the brine:
2 litres (31/2 pints) water
80g (3oz) salt
Equipment
2 × 3-litre (51/4-pint) preserving jars, sterilised
Two small plates that will fit inside the jars or 4 wooden skewers, to keep the ingredients submerged
To prepare the cabbage leaves, scoop out and discard as much of the core of the cabbage as possible. Carefully peel the leaves away one by one, taking care not to damage them. Depending on the type of cabbage, you may need to submerge it in hot water in order for the leaves to come away easily. Place the leaves into a 3-litre (51/4-pint) sterilised jar, one on top of the other, adding some of the fennel and dill seeds and juniper berries with each addition. Fill the jar to 10cm (4in) below the neck without pressing the leaves down. Set aside.
To prepare the green tomatoes, place the tomatoes in a separate 3-litre (51/4-pint) sterilised jar, followed by the other ingredients.
To prepare the brine, bring the water and salt to the boil in a pan over a high heat, then carefully pour over the cabbage and tomatoes. You may need to make another batch of brine if this is not enough to fill the jars (it will depend on the volume of your ingredients).
Leave the jars uncovered overnight. The following day, place small plates or wooden skewers positioned like a cross inside the jars to keep the cabbages and tomatoes submerged. Seal with the lids and place the jars in a warm place, ideally over 18°C (64.4°F) and not in direct sunlight. Open the jars every couple of days to let the fermentation gases out. It’s not compulsory, but it avoids the messy bit of having to tidy up if the liquid leaks out.
Depending on the temperature of the environment you should have fermented cabbage in about 10 days and tomatoes in about 14 days. Both will look a little wrinkly. If the garlic cloves in the tomato jars turn a bit blue, don’t worry. They are perfectly safe to eat, the colouring is just a reaction that some types of garlic have with the brine.
Use the cabbage leaves to make Sarmale, and the gogonele sliced and drizzled with olive oil, as a side dish. The brine (if clear and not cloudy) can be used as the souring ingredient in ciorba, in place of borş in chapter 3.
Stuffed peppers in vinegar
Why have simple pickled peppers, when you can have this super fancy version? Serve as a side dish, with a generous drizzle of olive oil and a sprinkle of black pepper
Makes 2 litres (31/2 pints)
1/4 white or red cabbage, finely shredded
1 carrot, peeled and grated
Pinch of salt
6–8 large peppers, to fit inside the jar
For the preserving vinegar:
525ml (173/4fl oz) water
255ml (81/2fl oz) vinegar
11/4 tsp salt
11/4 tsp sugar
10 black peppercorns
3 bay leaves
Equipment:
2-litre (31/2-pint) preserving jar, sterilised
A small plate that will fit inside the jar or 2 wooden skewers, to keep the ingredients submerged
Combine the cabbage and carrot in a large bowl. Sprinkle with salt and set aside at room temperature for 1 hour to soften slightly.
Meanwhile, carefully remove the stalks and lids of the peppers and discard the seeds – there needs be enough room to stuff with the cabbage.
Squeeze as much water as you can from the vegetable mix and use it to stuff the peppers. Place the peppers next to each other in the jar, cut-side up.
Bring all of the ingredients for the preserving vinegar to the boil in a pan, then remove from the heat. Leave to cool for about 5 minutes, then pour over the peppers. Place a small plate or two wooden skewers positioned like a cross inside the jar to keep the peppers submerged.
Seal the jar and store in a warm and dark place (the peppers may be discoloured by light). They will be ready in 25–30 days.
Fruit medley: grapes, cantaloupe and plums
These are the sort of pickles that will intrigue your diners. They go well with fish dishes, but I prefer to serve them at the beginning of a meal, drizzled with a little olive oil. You can add quince, pear, apple and even watermelon – pretty much any fruit can be pickled.
Makes 1 litre (13/4 pints)
For the fruit:
2 bunches of seedless grapes of different colours, separated into small clusters
1 small cantaloupe melon, skin-on and sliced into thin wedges
3–4 plums, quartered and stoned
For the preserving vinegar:
350ml (12fl oz) water
170ml (6fl oz) vinegar
1 tsp salt
15g (1/2oz) sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
3 cloves
1 star anise
Equipment:
1-litre (13/4-pint) jar, sterilised
A small plate that will fit inside the jar or 2 wooden skewers, to keep the ingredients submerged
To prepare the fruit, place the fruits into the jar, alternating between the different types. To make the preserving vinegar, place all the ingredients in a pan and bring to the boil, then remove from the heat. Leave to cool for 5 minutes, then pour over the fruit. Place a small plate or two wooden skewers positioned like a cross inside the jar to keep the fruit submerged. Seal the jar and store in a cool place. You can try them after 15 days.
Tarragon in salt and vinegar
This is the simplest and prettiest of all the preserves I make. The different shades of green, the textures of the salt and the ruffled leaves make this a joy to look at. You can use this method to store any green herbs, but bear in mind that they will become very dark in colour.
Makes 175ml (6fl oz)
3 bunches of tarragon
60g (21/2oz) rock salt
120ml (4fl oz) white wine vinegar
Equipment:
175-ml (6-fl oz) jar, sterilised
Bundle together some tarragon and place it in the bottom of the jar, then sprinkle generously with salt. Press down well, then repeat with another layer, until the jar is full. Add enough vinegar to cover entirely. Seal the jar and store in a dry, cool cupboard for up to a year. Once opened it will keep in the fridge for up to 2 weeks.
A salad of assorted pickles
Romanians have a lot of affection for vegetables pickled in vinegar, and every household has at least one jar of pickles of some sort in the pantry. Although the vegetables are usually preserved whole, this version can be made in any type and size of jar you have in the house. The result is a beautiful looking salad that can be served as a side dish, or as a topping for meat or vegetable burgers to add flavour and crunch.
Makes 1 litre (13/4 pints)
For the vegetables:
1/2 cauliflower, separated in small florets
4 green tomatoes, quartered
2 peppers, sliced
2–3 small onions, quartered
1 carrot, peeled and grated
1/4 red cabbage, shredded
4–5 garlic cloves, peeled
15g (1/2oz) salt
For the preserving vinegar:
125ml (4fl oz) white wine vinegar
15g (1/2oz) caster sugar
3 bay leaves
1 tsp black pepper
1 bunch of parsley
1/2 bunch of lovage (optional)
Equipment:
2 × 500-ml (171/2-fl oz) jars, sterilised
To make the vegetables, put all of the vegetables in a bowl and sprinkle over the salt, then set aside at room temperature for 11/2 hours.
Squeeze the vegetables well to remove any excess water – I do this in batches, taking only a small quantity at a time – and place into a pan over a medium heat. Add the vinegar, sugar, bay leaves and pepper and stir for 2–3 minutes, ensuring the liquid does not boil.
Pour the mixture into the jars, add the herbs and seal with the lid. It will keep for a couple of months in a cupboard, but store in the fridge once opened and consume within a week.
Damson jam
This is one of the most loved jams in Romania, and it is made using small plums that resemble British damsons. The recipe doesn’t include sugar, since the jam needs to be tangy and vigorous, and my personal preference is to add a little lavender to make it really special. Spread it on toast, use it to fill crêpes and pastries, tarts or cakes. It also goes well with sweetened polenta.
Makes 500g (1lb 2oz)
1kg (21/4lb) damsons or plums
100ml (31/2fl oz) water
Zest and juice of 1 small lemon
2 tbsp lavender (optional)
Equipment:
2 × 250-g (9-oz) jars, sterilised
Wash the fruit well and place in a large pan with the water. Simmer over a low heat until soft and the stones separate from the fruit. Set aside until cool enough to handle, then pass through a sieve to remove the stones. (Alternatively, halve the fruit and remove the stones before simmering, in which case you don’t need to pass the mixture through a sieve.)
Return the mixture to the pan, add the lemon zest and juice, and lavender (if using), and simmer until reduced by half. The jam needs to be really set to prevent mould from forming. Transfer immediately to sterilised jars, seal and keep in the pantry for up to 4 months.
Sour cherry confiture
This is a delicacy mainly because the cherry season is so short. We have many different types of cherries growing happily in Romania – sour cherries, white cherries and bitter cherries – all of which make the most exquisite fruit confits.
Makes 1kg (21/4lb)
1kg (21/4lb) cherries (any that are available to you)
500ml (171/2fl oz) water
1kg (21/4lb) jam sugar
Juice of 1 lemon
3 tsp vanilla extract
Fresh mint (optional)
Equipment:
4 × 250-g (9-oz) jars, sterilised
Stone the cherries and remove the stalks. This is the only hard work you’ll need to do, and I usually gather some friends around to help me with the task. Put the cherries in a large bowl to collect the juices.
Meanwhile, bring the water and sugar to the boil in a pan over a medium heat and simmer until the syrup thickens. To test if the syrup is ready, put a drop onto a plate and see if it holds its shape, like a little pearl.
Remove the pan from the heat and add the fruit. Set aside for 30 minutes, then return to a medium heat and add the lemon juice. Simmer for 10–15 minutes, skimming off any foam that forms on the surface with a slotted spoon until reduced by a quarter. Add the vanilla extract and transfer to sterilised jars. You may also like to add a little mint right at the end Seal the jars and store in the pantry for up to 6 months.
Viola confiture
This is truly special, made from delicate violas right at the beginning of spring. I wanted to include this recipe because it has the air of old town Bucharest with its sophisticated amalgamation of cultures and delicacies. My grandmother’s neighbour, Madame Tudor, was a talented dress maker and she would receive little thank you gifts from her well to do clients. Sometimes they were special homemade treats we’d never heard of before, like looking through a window into a world of a by-gone aristocratic era.
Makes 150ml (5fl oz)
200g (7oz) edible viola petals (I buy mine online from Herbs Unlimited)
180ml (6fl oz) water
200g (7oz) sugar
Juice of 1 lemon
Equipment:
150ml (5fl oz) jar, sterilised
Soak the petals in water and set aside. Meanwhile, bring the water and sugar to the boil in a pan over a medium heat. Boil until the sugar is completely dissolved. Turn the heat down to low and simmer until thickened. Drop a little of the liquid on a plate and see if the drop holds its shape – if it does, the syrup is ready. Add the lemon juice and the drained viola petals, and simmer for a further 5 minutes. Pour the confit into a small sterilised jar and enjoy little spoonfuls every time you need a precious treat.
Rosehip and crab apple marmalade
This reminds me of foraging with my grandmother, Domnica, on the narrow alleys of our neighbourhood. It was an endearing part of old Bucharest, with traditional urban houses and two storey buildings from the 19th century, cobbled streets, overflowing fruit orchards and hanging grape vines. All of this was to be wiped out by the grand building ambitions of Ceauşescu, when we lost so much of our beloved city and our connection with the past.
Domnica was my maternal grandmother, and being from Transylvania, this marmalade of rosehips and wild apples was very much part of her seasonal larder. So here is the recipe in her memory, for all the hours she spent making delicious food for us.
Makes 1kg (21/4lb)
400g (14oz) rosehips
100g (31/2oz) crab apples
250g (9oz) preserving sugar
100g (31/2oz) honey
200ml (7fl oz) water
Juice of 1 lemon
Equipment:
4 × 250-g (9-oz) jars, sterilised
Wash the rosehips and crab apples and place in a large pan. Cover with water, simmer over a medium heat until soft enough to be crushed into a paste, then set aside. When cool enough to handle transfer to a food processor together with the simmering water and pulse to a paste-like consistency.
Pass the paste through a sieve or a mouli to remove the seeds. This is a work of love, so listen to your favourite programme on the radio or invite a friend over for a chat while you are doing it.
Return the smooth paste to a clean pan, together with the sugar, honey and water. Bring to the boil, then lower the heat and add the lemon juice. Simmer for 30 minutes, stirring regularly.
If you prefer a soft set marmalade, now is the time to take the pan off the heat and transfer to sterilised jars. If you like a firm set, simmer for a further 10 minutes. Seal the jars immediately.
Leave to cool in the sealed jars, then store in a cool pantry. Unopened, they will last for 1 year.
Green tomato jam
I decided to include this recipe as a helping hand to all of those gardeners who end up with a lot of unripe tomatoes at the end of the season. Traditionally it is made only using green plum tomatoes, blanched, hollowed, stuffed with walnuts, then submerged in a hot sugary syrup. I have simplified the recipe to accommodate any kind of tomatoes you may have. It will turn them into a beautiful jam, perfect with yoghurt, on toast, with doughnuts or with cheese.
Makes 1kg (21/4lb)
1kg (21/4lb) green, unripe tomatoes
300ml (10fl oz) water
900g (2lb) preserving sugar
Juice of 2 lemons
3–4 star anise
150g (5oz) walnuts
3 tsp vanilla extract
Equipment:
4 × 250-g (9-oz) jars, sterilised
Wash and halve the tomatoes, and set aside. Bring the water and sugar to the boil in a large pan over a high heat, ensuring that all of the sugar is dissolved. Add the tomatoes, lemon juice and star anise. Turn the heat down to medium and simmer until the tomatoes are soft and mushy. Add the walnuts and vanilla extract and simmer for a further 5–10 minutes – it shouldn’t look too set or become dry.
Transfer to sterilised jars and seal with the lids. The jam will keep for 4–6 months. Enjoy with pancakes or cheese.
You can peel the tomatoes before adding them to the syrup. It’s more laborious but it will result in a finer jam. To do this, submerge the tomatoes in boiling water for a minute to soften the skins before peeling them away. You may also like to remove the star anise before transferring to the jars.
Quince compote
I love quince and it is one of the fruits that I have missed eating since I moved countries. My parents had a quince tree in their garden and it produced the most beautiful fruit ready to harvest at the end of October. Stored on window sills, the fruit imparted a delicate perfume into the air. We didn’t need air fresheners or other decorations and the quince were much prettier. We’d even eat them raw as a snack.
Makes 1kg (21/4lb)
2kg (41/2lb) quince
Juice of 1 lemon
2 litres (31/2 pints) water
250g (9oz) granulated sugar
100ml (31/2fl oz) honey
4 small cinnamon sticks
Equipment:
4 × 250-g (9-oz) jars, sterilised
Peel and core the quince, then cut into thick slices. Place into a bowl, cover with water, add the lemon juice and set aside. Pour the water into a large pan. Add the sugar and honey and bring to the boil over a high heat. Add the slices of quince, in batches if you don’t have space to add all at once. Turn the heat down and simmer for 5 minutes, then remove and divide the quince between the jars. Add a cinnamon stick to each jar. Pour over the syrup, then seal the jars.
Put a tea towel in the bottom of a large heavy-based pan. Place the jars in the pan and fill with water. Bring to a simmer, trying to keep the temperature below 90°C (194°F). Simmer for 20 minutes, then leave to cool in the water, overnight if possible.
Store in a cool, dark pantry, or in the fridge. Unopened, they will keep for 6 months – enough to get you through the winter. Serve with rice pudding or sponge cakes, using the syrup as a drizzle.
Green walnut confit
Look out for green walnuts in early summer, before they form their woody shell. We had our own from the garden, and mum and grandma used to make this exquisite preserve – a sweet, nutty delicacy. It is a work of love but totally worth it. We would serve it on little saucers, accompanied by a glass of cold water.
Makes 1kg (21/4lb)
1kg (21/4lb) green walnuts (about 25–30 pieces)
Juice of 3 large lemons
400ml (14fl oz) water
850g (1lb 14oz) preserving sugar
100g (31/2oz) honey
4 cloves
2 star anise
Equipment:
4 × 250-g (9-oz) jars, sterilised
Peel the green layer of the walnuts and pierce the white core several times using the tip of a knife. (Reserve the peelings to make the Walnut Liqueur below.) This stage will stain your hands, so be sure to wear rubber gloves. Immediately place the peeled walnuts into a bowl containing cold water and the juice of 2 of the lemons – the water needs to cover them completely. Place an upturned plate on top of the walnuts to ensure they stay completely submerged. Refrigerate overnight.
The next day, bring the water and sugar to the boil in a large pan over a medium heat and simmer for 30 minutes. Rinse the walnuts and add to the sugar syrup together with the juice of the remaining lemon and the spices. Turn the heat to low and cook for 20 minutes until the syrup thickens. Keep an eye on the pan to make sure the sugar doesn’t become too dark.
Cover with a damp tea towel and leave to cool for 15 minutes. Transfer to sterilised, fairly hot jars, seal and leave to set overnight.
Walnut liqueur
Walnut peelings (see above)
4–5 apricot kernels, crushed (optional)
1 litre (13/4 pints) vodka
300g (11oz) caster sugar
2 tbsp honey
Zest of 2 lemons
4–5 cloves
20g (3/4oz) caster sugar, to darken (optional)
Equipment:
2-litre (31/2-pint) jar
2-litre (31/2-pint) glass bottle
Place the peelings and apricot kernels (if using) into the jar and pour over the vodka. Seal the jar and leave in a warm place for around 3 months.
Strain the infusion through a muslin cloth. Add the remaining ingredients and mix well. Return to the jar and seal. Return the jar to a warm place for 6 weeks, shaking the jar from time to time. Strain the liqueur again and bottle it. It is now ready to serve.
If it is too strong, make a syrup with a little sugar and some water and add it to the bottle, but it’s really a sacrilege. To make the colour darker, caramelise the sugar and add 1–2 tablespoons of water, then mix it with the liqueur.
Cherry liqueur
Crafted drinks are a staple of any Romanian household, and every year we make our own ţuică and vişinată. Ţuică is a plum or greengage brandy, served in shots as an aperitif to prepare you for what it is to come. Vişinată is a liqueur made from sour cherries, a little tangy, and exactly what is needed after one of our robust desserts. My dad would add crushed cherry stones to his vişinată to achieve a bitter-sweet almond undertone. I’ve adapted this recipe slightly to include an element of tanginess, in case you can’t find sour cherries.
Makes 1 litre (13/4 pints)
800g (13/4lb) cherries or sour cherries, stone-in
200g (7oz) red or blackcurrants
300g (11oz) granulated sugar
100ml (31/2fl oz) white rum
500ml (171/2fl oz) vodka
1/2 tsp almond extract
Equipment:
2-litre (31/2-pint) jar
1-litre (13/4-pint) bottle
Put the cherries, red or blackcurrants and sugar into the jar and mix well. Cover with a muslin cloth and leave on the kitchen counter, or in a warm place, to begin the fermentation process. Shake the jar every day for 3–4 days. Towards the end there should be quite a lot of juice in the jar and the sugar should have dissolved.
Add the rum, vodka and almond extract. Seal the jar and store in the pantry or cupboard for one month, then strain into the bottle. Don’t discard the rum-soaked cherries: remove the stones and use the cherries to decorate cakes, chocolate mousses or wrap them in marzipan and coat them in dark chocolate for delicious bonbons.
Coffee
We have a strong coffee culture in Romania and visitors are often blown away by the number of coffee houses there are in our towns. We take a lot of pride in using special coffee blends, or in returning to the good old habit of drinking Turkish coffee from pure Arabica coffee beans.
The coffee house tradition is deeply engrained in our city life. For hundreds of years, they played an undeniable role in harbouring the debates of intellectuals, nourishing the talent of artists, and being the background of political satire. There was a break of around 25 years when they stopped being so lively, but now they are back, unchanged and as artistic as ever. Coffee is still served with slices of cake or tortes, enticing pastry delicacies, cookies or baklavas.
Turkish coffee
This is the traditional Romanian way to make coffee, in an ibric, served black in small cups, with a little teaspoon of sugar. Even the chicory and chickpea coffees rationed during communist times were prepared in the same way.
It should be brewed slowly, lifting and lowering the ibric closer or further away from the heat. This will make the crema on top swell and foam, like a cloud, changing into shapes of animals or objects. We always wait for a few minutes before drinking it, while the coffee grounds settle at the bottom of the cup. After drinking, some people like to turn the cup upside down on its saucer to interpret the patterns made by the coffee drying on the inner sides of the cup. It’s quite fun.
Serves 2
250ml (8fl oz) water
2 tsp sugar (optional)
30g (11/4oz) Turkish Arabica ground coffee or other good ground coffee
Bring the water and sugar, if using, to the boil in a Turkish coffee pot or a small pan, adding more sugar if you like your coffee sweet. Remove from the heat and stir in the ground coffee. Return to a low heat, slowly lifting away from the heat when the foam swells, then lowering again. Repeat twice more.
Skim the froth forming on the surface, the crema, and divide between two coffee cups. Pour in the coffee, and wait for the grounds to settle at the bottom of the cup before drinking. Enjoy.
Ice-cream latte
This is a mesmerising summer drink combining coffee and ice-cream in a delicious way. To me, it will always be associated with spending my holiday with my friends at the Black Sea, as an ‘independent’ teenager allowed to travel without my parents. You would have found me eating éclairs on the patios of summer gardens, terase, overlooking the beach, and drinking this tall, chocolatey concoction.
Serves 2
5 tsp instant coffee
4 tsp sugar
200ml (7fl oz) cold milk
2 scoops chocolate ice-cream (milk or dark, your choice)
To decorate:
100ml (31/2fl oz) double cream, whipped with 1 tsp vanilla extract
Put all the ingredients in a blender and whizz until smooth and a little frothy. Pour immediately into two tall glasses, add a couple of spoonfuls of the whipped vanilla cream and slide in a straw. Some people like to use less milk and add cola instead, others like to add a little coffee liqueur or sprinkle cocoa powder on top.
Bunica Maria’s anti-flu rum coffee
My dad’s mum, Bunica Maria, had a few homemade methods for curing a cold. Apart from giving us large cups of thin, sweet polenta with milk, or, when we were old enough to take it, a small glass of mulled plum brandy with a good pinch of black pepper, she had this coffee trick. The coffee had to be strong, basically working like a super-powered headache pill, while the rum pulled all the evil viruses out of us, warming us from head to toe.
Serves 4
2 eggs yolks
30g (11/4oz) caster sugar
1 tsp honey
15g (1/2oz) instant coffee
200ml (7fl oz) milk
2 tsp vanilla extract
20ml (3/4fl oz) rum
Beat the egg yolk with the sugar and honey in a heatproof bowl until pale. Add the instant coffee and combine well. Heat the milk in a small pan and slowly pour over the egg mixture. Keep whisking, then return the mixture to the pan over a low heat and simmer for 5–6 minutes until thickened slighty. Remove from the heat, add the vanilla and rum and serve in small cups.
Coffee sherbet or fondant
This is a version of the West Asian and Indian sweet drink sharbat. Alongside fruit confits and jams, Şerbets were the testing stone for any respectable and skilful cook, mainly because of the way they needed to judge when the sugar syrup was ready. It was usually served in a teaspoon placed directly into a glass of cold water. A guest would have a little of the sweet confection, then drink some of the water and place the spoon back in the glass. The fondant would eventually dilute into a sweet drink.
Makes 300g (11oz)
250g (9oz) caster sugar
125ml (4fl oz) water
25g (1oz) ground instant coffee
2 tbsp warm water
Juice of 1 lemon
Put the sugar and water into a pan and gently warm over a low heat, stirring occasionally, until the sugar is dissolved. Increase the heat to medium-high and boil the syrup for 8–10 minutes, brushing down the sides of the pan to prevent the sugar from crystallising. Drizzle a bit of the syrup onto a plate and if the drops hold their shape, it’s ready. Remove from the heat.
Meanwhile, combine the instant coffee with the warm water in a small bowl until well blended. Add the coffee mixture and lemon juice to the sugar syrup and stir well.
Cover the pan with a wet kitchen towel and leave to cool for about 15 minutes, or until the bottom of the pan is just warm. Using an electric whisk, start whisking until the mixture thickens. Quickly pour into sterilised jars and leave to set. It will become hard in a few hours. Warm and add a little butter to create a glaze for cakes and cookies.
Heavy-duty roasting tray with a rack
2 tbsp smoked wood chips or the contents of 2 Lapsang Souchong tea bags
Bunch of fresh thyme or rosemary
For hot-smoking prunes: remove the rack from the roasting tray and line the tray with 2–3 layers of kitchen foil. Scatter the wood chips or tea leaves into the tray along with the herbs, then place the rack on top.
Place the prunes onto the rack. Depending on their size, you may need to put them onto baking paper, in which case you need to pierce it evenly all over, so the smoked gets through but the prunes don’t fall off the rack.
Cover everything, tray and all, with more kitchen foil. Place the tray onto the stove top, perhaps across 2 hobs, at the lowest heat. Smoke for 40–60 minutes, moving the tray around every so often to expose the bottom of the tray to the heat evenly. Set aside to cool.
For hot-smoking sausages: follow the same method as for the prunes above, placing the sausages directly onto the rack and covering everything tightly with foil.
Smoke for 30 minutes, then open the foil and turn the sausages. Replace the foil and continue to smoke for a further 20 minutes.
Transfer the sausages to a frying pan over a medium heat and cook for 5–8 minutes or until cooked through.
Serves 4
200ml (7fl oz) milk
300ml (10fl oz) water
150g (5oz) polenta
50g (2oz) butter
2 tsp salt
1 tsp black pepper
Bring the milk and water to the boil in a pan over a high heat. Reduce the heat to medium and stir in the polenta. Cook for a further 10 minutes, stirring continuously, adding more hot water if necessary until the mixture has the consistency of a thick, firm porridge. Add the butter and seasoning and mix well until melted. Serve as a side dish.
Makes 180ml (6fl oz)
5 garlic cloves
2 tbsp olive or rapeseed oil
Pinch of salt
100ml (31/2fl oz) water
1 tsp white wine vinegar
Peel the garlic and crush in a pestle and mortar. Add the oil and a pinch of salt and grind to a paste. Add the water, vinegar and a little more salt if needed. Stir well and serve as a drizzle on meat or vegetables to add a strong flavour, with a hotness similar to chilli.
Makes 200ml (7fl oz)
1 green chilli
5 garlic cloves, peeled
4–5 cherry tomatoes
1 tbsp white wine vinegar
3 tbsp olive or rapeseed oil
Generous pinch of salt
Briefly blister the chilli in a hot pan and remove the stalk. Blitz in a food processor with all the remaining ingredients. Add more vinegar if it’s not tangy enough.
My grandmother Domnica used to make this cheese all the time. She didn’t like to buy it from the shop, because she wanted us to have the freshest cheese possible. In the summer, she would leave the milk to curdle naturally at room temperature, but in colder months she used vinegar. You can also use lemon juice, but we didn’t have lemons or citrus fruit in those days.
Makes around 250–300g (9–11oz)
For cheese curd used in doughs:
3 litres (51/4 pints) whole milk
50ml (2fl oz) cider vinegar
For cheese curd used in fillings:
2 litres (31/2 pints) whole milk
50ml (2fl oz) cider vinegar
600ml (1 pint) double cream
Bring the milk just to the boil in a pan over a medium heat. If you have a thermometer, it should be at 92–95°C (197.6–203°F). Remove from the heat and pour in the vinegar, stirring once or twice. Leave to cool while the cheese curds form.
Cover a bowl with a muslin cloth and very carefully pour in the cold milk. Lift the cloth and tie the top with a string. Tie to the door handle of one of your kitchen cabinets and place a bowl under the cloth. Leave to drip overnight.
The following day it will be ready to use in pies and pastries or to eat on toast with fruit.
Makes 350ml (12fl oz)
250ml (8fl oz) double cream
75ml (3fl oz) condensed milk
50ml (2fl oz) cider liqueur
Whip the cream to stiff peaks, then fold in the condensed milk and liqueur. Transfer to a plastic container and freeze for at least 2 hours.
Makes 350ml (12fl oz)
200ml (7fl oz) double cream
50g (2oz) icing sugar
2 tsp vanilla extract
50ml (2fl oz) brandy or Calvados
Whisk the cream with the sugar to soft peaks, then add the vanilla extract and brandy. Leave in the fridge until needed.