A toe dip into spring.....Lime meringue pie

February is a month of mixed emotions. The sense of utter urgency that winter finally be gone is often the prevailing one. A feeling that enough is enough, too many grey skies, too many blustery days, coupled with an almost painful longing to feel warm sun on bare skin. And yet brief daily forays into the garden to look after the chickens reveal that every day we nudge just a bit closer to spring. These small signs - tiny buds on the peach tree, nascent flowers forming quietly on the magnolia, the rhubarb crown unfurling through the still cold soil - bring about a wave of almost euphoric happiness.  The daffodil bulbs poke barely a centimetre through the ground and yet every time I look at them I am reminded that life is on the cusp of a glorious explosion, that we have very nearly come, once again, through the long dark tunnel of winter.

Eating in February is also an up and down affair, the ways of eating and cooking, as always, working so closely in tandem to the mood of the moment. I want to begin to eat fresher more sprightly things yet I am not quite ready to give up the comfort food my body has grown so used to over the past few months. Comfort eating to me is generally about celebrating fats in all their wonderful guises. Rich creamy sauces wrapped around long ribbons of pasta, unctuous stews made with gelatinous cuts of meat, warming puddings generously dressed with sweet vanilla custard. So I dig deep into the freezer and look for the ever useful supplies of spring-green vegetables, the peas and the broads beans, that can always been found lurking there. I couple them with rich oozing cheeses, perhaps tossed into an omelette or stirred through a risotto to produce a comforting winter meal with one toe dipped barely into spring.

The transition from winter to spring is also reflected in the puddings I make, needing both to deliver something sweet and gentle, yet acid-sharp and lively. Lemon meringue pie, that childhood favourite, seems to fit the bill perfectly. But today I have no lemons, only limes, and it is to them I turn to create my winter-with-a-hint-of-spring Sunday pudding. I am proud to say I flicked through my copy of Delia’s Complete Cookery Course for the basic recipe. Just as you can always rely on winter turning to spring, so you can rely on Delia. She may not be as fashionable as she once was, but her recipes really work and that is the reason her’s is one of my most well thumbed books. The only thing I changed was substituting limes for lemons. The result was an overwhelming success. In the words of a 6 year old: “Mum, I just can’t find the words to describe how amazing this is!”. He went on to eat more than a quarter of the pie in a single sitting. Happiness, for mummy at least, is a well fed child.

Try it yourself, and bounce your way happily through the last month of winter.

Lime Meringue Pie

based on the recipe in Delia Smith’s Complete Cookery Course. 

For the pastry:

110g plain flour

50g unsalted butter

For the filling:

3 ripe juicy limes, zest & juice

275ml cold water

3 level tablespoons cornflour

40g unsalted butter

2 large egg yolks

50g caster sugar

For the meringue:

2 large egg whites

110g caster sugar

Preheat et oven to 190oC/Gas 5.

Make the pastry by whizzing the flour and butter in a food processor to form fine crumbs. As just enough cold water to bring it together, just two or three tablespoons should do it. Wrap in cling film and allow to rest in the fridge for 20 minutes.

Lightly grease a 23cm tart tin and roll the pastry into a circle big enough to line it. Don’t worry if it cracks a little, just patch it up in the tin using a little water if you need to stick it together. I find that the best, crumbliest pastry is often the least promising looking when raw in the tin. Line with baking paper and baking beans and bake blind in the oven for 20 minutes.

Remove the pastry case from the oven, and immediately lower the heat down to 150oC/Gas 2.

Next, prepare the filling by measuring the water into a jug and adding the cornflour and sugar to a bowl. Using a little of the measured water to mix the cornflower to a paste then pour the remaining water in a pan along with the lime zest. Bring up to the boil then pour over the cornflour paste, stirring all the time until it is smooth. Pour the whole lot back into the saucepan and simmer for a minute or so until it has thickened. Pour the lime mixture into the pastry case and smooth with a knife. Set aside while you prepare the meringue topping.

Place the egg whites in a large bowl, or the bowl of a food mixture, and whisk until they form stiff peaks. Add the sugar and carry on whisking until you have a thick glossy meringue. Using a wide knife smooth the meringue over the lime filling, taking care to seal the edges. Add a few artistic swirls if you fancy, and I always do. Bake in the oven for around 35-40 minutes or until the meringue has turned a lovely golden beige. 

I can’t tell you why but for me this is a pie that just has to be eaten cold. But feel free to eat it in whatever state you prefer. There are no rules here….. 

A simple citrus drizzle cake - the first cake of the new year

In our house it has become a tradition to bake a cake every weekend. Not always a new cake, not always a special cake, but always a cake of some sort. Yesterday saw a truly special baking moment; the first cake of 2011, and the first ever cake with home produced eggs. The first of many - surely cakes with super fresh eggs from the garden were one of the main reasons for investing in these (very expensive) chickens?! I was ably helped by Eve, my willing 3 year old, who as usual was mostly interested in the spatula licking phase of baking, even preferring this to eating the finished product. Still, all the more for mummy.

The first cake of the new year, for me, had to be a super simple affair. I was not looking for a fudgy fancy confection of chocolate or gooey icing. A quick glance at the less than impressive post-Christmas fruit bowl gave instant inspiration; 2 rapidly yellowing limes, a slightly soft lemon, a large not-bad looking orange and a very much past it melon. The chickens had the melon, sliced into quarters and devoured with glee in a matter of minutes, as a small way of thanking them for their part in the process. The rest of the fruit were to be turned into a citrus drizzle cake, sharp yet sweet, simple and pure. My idea of cake nirvana, and somehow perfectly right for the first Sunday of the year.

Citrus Drizzle Cake

makes 1 loaf

10-15 minutes to make; 40-45 minutes to cook

3 eggs, separated

180g unsalted butter

180g caster sugar

160g self raising flour

60g ground almond

2 limes, zest & juice

1 lemon, zest & juice

1 orange, zest & juice

2 tbsp milk

For the syrup:

approx. 150ml citrus juice (this is what my fruit above yielded)

100g caster sugar

Preheat the oven to 200/180 fan/ gas 6. Grease and line a loaf tin with baking parchment, leaving a 'tail' at either end to help you lift the cake out.

Either in a food mixer with a whisk attachment, or a generous bowl and an electric whisk, whisk up the egg whites until stiff. Be sure that both the bowl and whisk are super-clean before you start as any hint of grease will mean the whites will not gain enough air to fluff up. Once the eggs are whisked, set aside.

In a separate bowl, add the egg yolks, butter and sugar and beat together until light and fluffy. I used the beater attachment of my Kenwood Chef as I tend to a be a lazy cakemaker, but a wooden spoon and copious elbow grease would do the job well if you preferred. Beat in the flour, almond and all of the citrus zest, and finally beat in the milk.

Take a generous spoon of the whisked egg white and beat this into the cake mixture - this will serve to loosen the mix a little. Then fold the remaining egg whites in gently but firmly. I find a figure of eight action with a large metal spoon to be the best way of doing this, but you will find the way that works best for you. Be careful not to over mix as you will loose the precious air you spent time whisking in.

Pour into the prepared cake tin, level slightly with the back of a spoon and cook in the oven until a skewer inserted into the centre comes out clean. In my oven this took 45 minutes, but check after 35 or so just in case - ovens are notoriously difficult things to judge when giving baking times, yours may vary from mine in all manner of ways.

Whilst the cake is cooking prepare the 'drizzle' by boiling the reserved citrus juice and the sugar in a small saucepan. Remove from the heat when the sugar has dissolved and you are left with a glossy syrup that tastes quite sharp. If you want it sweeter feel free to add a little more sugar, but for me the drizzle should have a zing that tingles on the tongue and serves to wake the cake up, lifting it from the plain to the sublime.

Once the cake is done remove it from the oven and slowly pour the drizzle over the still hot cake. Do this spoonful by spoonful and watch it satisfyingly soak into the sponge. Don't rush or it will puddle and run over the sides of the tin, which would seem such a shameful waste of the delicious nectar. Allow to cool in the tin before lifting out onto a plate.

Fabulous served with coffee for a late sunday breakfast.