Christmas at Little Beach Street Bakery
Page 66
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Andy was already opening the Red Lion, and the fiddles were starting up, but Huckle simply took Polly in his arms and carried her up the steps to the lighthouse.
And in that moment, as the old year paused before the new arrived, it was as if the world took a breath.
Polly didn’t believe in magic, but even so, as they crossed the threshold, in a flash, in a vision, she could see it; feel it all.
Even though the lighthouse was dark and cold and empty, it was as if, suddenly, she could hear her name being called; the bath running; Neil eeping, children charging up and down the stairs – and falling, from time to time – banging and making noise and charging in and out, and it sped up, it went so fast, the oven turning over, and the village children playing together, and friends arriving, and Reuben’s new school… and it sped up again, and the lamp in the lighthouse whizzed round and round as the boats followed the tide in and out and the freezing winters turned to perfect summers and the children came and went and shouted and grew and the bread filled the air with its scent and the children ran back from school and grabbed great handfuls of banana cake and dashed out again to dabble in rock pools with Neil, tousle-haired, shrimping nets in little fingers, clamouring to be allowed in the sidecar, and Herschel-Lowin, with his bright red hair and freckles, ran round pretending to be in charge…
Polly blinked and shook away the vision – far too much champagne, she thought, too much excitement, and tiredness, and emotion. All of those things.
‘I love you, my darling,’ said Huckle. ‘But I am going to have to put you down. It’s your dress that’s heavy.’
‘I know,’ she said, still half caught in the dream. ‘It’s definitely the dress.’
‘Definitely,’ said Huckle. ‘Shall I go and put the electric blanket on?’
‘Yes please,’ said Polly.
And as he vanished upstairs, she turned, watching the lighthouse beam sweep over the harbour, the little town, out to the mainland, where the fireworks were already starting to pop, one two three, and just before she switched out the light, she went into the kitchen in her wedding dress, and she laid out the yeast and the flour and the eggs for the morning bread, and kissed Neil, already snuggled in front of the Aga, and put out the light, then ran upstairs, her skirt and a faint wake of flour trailing behind her.
AWESOME HOT CHOCOLATE
NB: Don’t add TOO much cream, otherwise it will turn into pudding. But do add marshmallows, even though those two statements contradict each other. Also keep an eye on the chocolate. If it gets above a simmer when it’s melting, it’s all over.
One large bar of milk chocolate (the size of one they offer you in shops when you buy a newspaper. The branding is completely up to you.)
One small bar of dark chocolate (Bournville or similiar but go posh as you like. If you like, e.g., chilli flavouring (I don’t judge), go for that at this point.)
Brandy or Cointreau (optional)
750ml whole milk
A dollop of single cream
Vanilla, to taste
Ginger or cinnamon, to taste
2 tsp sugar (optional)
Melt the chocolate INCREDIBLY slowly stirring over a very low heat. If you’ve got small people chuntering around, they may need a distraction whilst you get this together. If you don’t, a small slug of brandy or Cointreau is practically de riguer.
When the chocolate is melted, add up to 750ml of whole milk – the precise consistency is up to you – and a dollop of single cream. It should be lovely and thick but not dessert.
A spot of vanilla; a tiny pinch of ginger or cinnamon to taste. Some people add a teaspoon or two of sugar at this point, and that is entirely to your taste. I do.
If you have a foamer, use that; otherwise carefully whisk and pour.
Small marshmallows or tiny ones are up to you. I prefer the little ones because it feels like I get more. Don’t look at me like that.
Drink slowly. Possibly with this book in your hands.
KNISHES
Knishes are basically the Jewish version of a pasty. You can make your own pastry or just buy it; it should be very thin. They can be filled with meat or potatoes and onion or cream cheese. I don’t like the cream cheese one so much, so here’s the classic.
2kg potatoes
2 large onions
3 tspn veg oil
Salt and pepper, to taste
Chopped parsley
For the pastry
800g flour
2 eggs
4 tspn veg oil
Cup of warm water
1 tspn of salt
Boil the potatoes and sauté (softly fry) the onions in the oil. Mash together with plenty of salt and pepper and parsley, and set aside to cool.
Mix the wet ingredients for the pastry, then gradually add the flour until its firm enough for kneading. Knead for a few minutes, then set aside to rest.
You want to roll the dough out as thin as possible, then put dollops of the potato mixture at intervals. Roll the whole thing up like a long sausage roll, but when you slice it up, you should be able to ‘wrap up’ the entire thing in pastry, because the potato mixture isn’t touching – they should be round little parcels, if that makes sense.
Brush with eggwash and bake at 190°C for around 35 minutes. Perfect finger food. Dip in sour cream if so inclined.
MINCEMEAT TWISTS
I love making my own mincemeat. It feels like the start of Christmas and it will make you feel better about using puff pastry.
Mincemeat (prepare at least two weeks before)
275g currants
100g sultanas
250g raisins
3 tbspn lemon juice
Lemon zest
300g suet
300g brown sugar
100g mixed peel
Pinch of nutmeg
2 x peeled apples (firm green ones best)
QUITE a lot of brandy.
SQUISH SQUISH SQUISH.
Then leave.
After a couple of hours, fill sterilised jam jars (I run them through a dishwasher on a boil setting), make sure the air is out (put one of those little gingham flat hats on it), and lock so they’re airtight otherwise will spoil. Stick in the cupboard for two weeks. If I make extra, I give it away as gifts. When we lived in France I gave it to my French friends and they all looked at me like I was a MANIAC.
I am sure the jars are still in their cupboards.
To make a twist, cut triangles out of the puff pastry. Put a spoonful of the mincemeat at the bottom and roll up. It doesn’t matter if they look slightly messy, that’s all part of the fun!
Brush with egg wash, sprinkle with brown sugar and bake for 30 mins at 200 degrees, or until brown.
And in that moment, as the old year paused before the new arrived, it was as if the world took a breath.
Polly didn’t believe in magic, but even so, as they crossed the threshold, in a flash, in a vision, she could see it; feel it all.
Even though the lighthouse was dark and cold and empty, it was as if, suddenly, she could hear her name being called; the bath running; Neil eeping, children charging up and down the stairs – and falling, from time to time – banging and making noise and charging in and out, and it sped up, it went so fast, the oven turning over, and the village children playing together, and friends arriving, and Reuben’s new school… and it sped up again, and the lamp in the lighthouse whizzed round and round as the boats followed the tide in and out and the freezing winters turned to perfect summers and the children came and went and shouted and grew and the bread filled the air with its scent and the children ran back from school and grabbed great handfuls of banana cake and dashed out again to dabble in rock pools with Neil, tousle-haired, shrimping nets in little fingers, clamouring to be allowed in the sidecar, and Herschel-Lowin, with his bright red hair and freckles, ran round pretending to be in charge…
Polly blinked and shook away the vision – far too much champagne, she thought, too much excitement, and tiredness, and emotion. All of those things.
‘I love you, my darling,’ said Huckle. ‘But I am going to have to put you down. It’s your dress that’s heavy.’
‘I know,’ she said, still half caught in the dream. ‘It’s definitely the dress.’
‘Definitely,’ said Huckle. ‘Shall I go and put the electric blanket on?’
‘Yes please,’ said Polly.
And as he vanished upstairs, she turned, watching the lighthouse beam sweep over the harbour, the little town, out to the mainland, where the fireworks were already starting to pop, one two three, and just before she switched out the light, she went into the kitchen in her wedding dress, and she laid out the yeast and the flour and the eggs for the morning bread, and kissed Neil, already snuggled in front of the Aga, and put out the light, then ran upstairs, her skirt and a faint wake of flour trailing behind her.
AWESOME HOT CHOCOLATE
NB: Don’t add TOO much cream, otherwise it will turn into pudding. But do add marshmallows, even though those two statements contradict each other. Also keep an eye on the chocolate. If it gets above a simmer when it’s melting, it’s all over.
One large bar of milk chocolate (the size of one they offer you in shops when you buy a newspaper. The branding is completely up to you.)
One small bar of dark chocolate (Bournville or similiar but go posh as you like. If you like, e.g., chilli flavouring (I don’t judge), go for that at this point.)
Brandy or Cointreau (optional)
750ml whole milk
A dollop of single cream
Vanilla, to taste
Ginger or cinnamon, to taste
2 tsp sugar (optional)
Melt the chocolate INCREDIBLY slowly stirring over a very low heat. If you’ve got small people chuntering around, they may need a distraction whilst you get this together. If you don’t, a small slug of brandy or Cointreau is practically de riguer.
When the chocolate is melted, add up to 750ml of whole milk – the precise consistency is up to you – and a dollop of single cream. It should be lovely and thick but not dessert.
A spot of vanilla; a tiny pinch of ginger or cinnamon to taste. Some people add a teaspoon or two of sugar at this point, and that is entirely to your taste. I do.
If you have a foamer, use that; otherwise carefully whisk and pour.
Small marshmallows or tiny ones are up to you. I prefer the little ones because it feels like I get more. Don’t look at me like that.
Drink slowly. Possibly with this book in your hands.
KNISHES
Knishes are basically the Jewish version of a pasty. You can make your own pastry or just buy it; it should be very thin. They can be filled with meat or potatoes and onion or cream cheese. I don’t like the cream cheese one so much, so here’s the classic.
2kg potatoes
2 large onions
3 tspn veg oil
Salt and pepper, to taste
Chopped parsley
For the pastry
800g flour
2 eggs
4 tspn veg oil
Cup of warm water
1 tspn of salt
Boil the potatoes and sauté (softly fry) the onions in the oil. Mash together with plenty of salt and pepper and parsley, and set aside to cool.
Mix the wet ingredients for the pastry, then gradually add the flour until its firm enough for kneading. Knead for a few minutes, then set aside to rest.
You want to roll the dough out as thin as possible, then put dollops of the potato mixture at intervals. Roll the whole thing up like a long sausage roll, but when you slice it up, you should be able to ‘wrap up’ the entire thing in pastry, because the potato mixture isn’t touching – they should be round little parcels, if that makes sense.
Brush with eggwash and bake at 190°C for around 35 minutes. Perfect finger food. Dip in sour cream if so inclined.
MINCEMEAT TWISTS
I love making my own mincemeat. It feels like the start of Christmas and it will make you feel better about using puff pastry.
Mincemeat (prepare at least two weeks before)
275g currants
100g sultanas
250g raisins
3 tbspn lemon juice
Lemon zest
300g suet
300g brown sugar
100g mixed peel
Pinch of nutmeg
2 x peeled apples (firm green ones best)
QUITE a lot of brandy.
SQUISH SQUISH SQUISH.
Then leave.
After a couple of hours, fill sterilised jam jars (I run them through a dishwasher on a boil setting), make sure the air is out (put one of those little gingham flat hats on it), and lock so they’re airtight otherwise will spoil. Stick in the cupboard for two weeks. If I make extra, I give it away as gifts. When we lived in France I gave it to my French friends and they all looked at me like I was a MANIAC.
I am sure the jars are still in their cupboards.
To make a twist, cut triangles out of the puff pastry. Put a spoonful of the mincemeat at the bottom and roll up. It doesn’t matter if they look slightly messy, that’s all part of the fun!
Brush with egg wash, sprinkle with brown sugar and bake for 30 mins at 200 degrees, or until brown.
