Mum's Elderflower Cordial

On the last bank holiday weekend I headed home with the hope of walking in the country, gathering elderflowers in the sunshine (perhaps into a wicker basket) and returning home to make fresh elderflower cordial. Unfortunately every time I called my mum to ask whether the elderflowers were out, she told me no. Rubbish. There's something so appealing about making things from ingredients that you can gather free from the hedge, especially when such things retail at a ridiculous prices in the shop. Damn the elderflowers not coinciding with my weekend off.

In the end, mum came to the rescue. She gathered the elderflowers from the hedgerows after work and made the cordial herself. I went home for my sister's birthday last weekend and returned with a litre of the golden nectar. Yum. I would have asked mum to do a guest spot on here and explain how she made it, but unfortunately she's a little computer illiterate. So in the interest of encouraging you to go out for a stroll and grab the last of the flowers, I'll share the recipe she used. By the way, once you've found a good spot for the flowers, draw yourself a map. The elderberries will be coming soon and there's plenty of recipes to use them in.

We've been drinking the cordial after work with soda water and my heart-shaped ice-cubes with lime zest in them (check us!). Served in a wine glass, there's something of the child being given faux wine about the sparkling cordial which makes it seem all the more fun. If you fancy being a bit more grown-up, I think the cordial would be lovely in a vodka cocktail. It can also be used in jam and is often combined with gooseberries as in Antonia's crumble.

Elderflower Cordial

1.5 litres of boiling water
1 kilo white granulated sugar
20 large elderflower heads
4 unwaxed lemons (zested and sliced)
55g citric acid*

1. First, go for a frolic in the sunshine and collect your elderflower heads. You should do this on a dry day.


2. Shake the elderflower heads to remove any creepy crawlies etc.


3. In a large bowl/pan pour the boiling water onto the sugar and stir until it dissolves. Allow the mixture to cool.


4. Add the citric acid and the lemon zest/slices and the elderflower heads.


5. Leave the liquid to steep for 48 hours in a cool place.


6. Strain twice through sterilised muslin and pour into sterilised bottles or jars**. You can keep the cordial in the fridge or freeze some so you can be reminded of summer in the depths of winter.

* Citric acid is available from chemists although you may only be able to buy one packet at a time. Apparently it's used by heroin addicts (for what I have no clue) so you may want to avoid going to buy it in your grotty tracksuit and looking unkempt lest people get the wrong idea!

** To sterilize muslin pour boiling water over it. You could also use a fine sieve. To sterilise glass jars/bottles wash and rinse them and put them in an oven at 160 degrees for 15-20 minutes.

*** Despite being administered homemade elderflower cordial, my stepdad is having a tough time of it health-wise at the moment so if any of you have any spare good thoughts to send in the Yorkshire direction, I am sure that would really help!

She who dares makes...Danish Braid

Hamlet may well have said "something is rotten in the state of Denmark" but perhaps if he'd spent less time worrying about his Mum's sex-life and more time eating Danish pastries he might not have been so morose.

This month Kelly of Sass & Veracity and Ben of What’s Cookin’? challenged us to make a Danish Braid using the proper laminated Danish pastry dough. As Kelly and Ben explained to us, Danish pastry dough is a yeast-leavened dough from the same family as puff pastry which basically means it contains lots and lots of butter.

I was very excited about this month's challenge. Although Danish pastries aren't my bakery treat of choice (bring on the iced fingers) learning to make them would be a chance to acquire a real skill. I had visions of making traditional swirls full of juicy raisins and topped with a light glace icing, but our challengers told us we had to make a plait. Kelly and Ben suggested using an apple filling but I decided to stuff my plait with frangipane and poached pears. Yum.

As with many yeast recipes, making the pastry dough was time consuming but not labour intensive. Once you've completed the first dough stage you complete four 'turns' of the pastry sandwiching a big block of butter in between the folds of the dough. Yes, the big block of butter - that's why Danish pastries aren't Weight Watchers friendly. That said, the dough is flavoured with orange and cardamon so there must be some useful vitamins in there somewhere.

I had a rare evening with the house to myself so I was able to make the dough in peace with only the Wicked soundtrack (turned up loud) to accompany me (I have the music tastes of a camp old man). Unfortunately I don't have a stand mixer yet (one day darling pistachio KitchenAid you will be mine) so I had to follow Ben's instructions for making the dough by hand.

Ben suggested putting the flour on the surface and tipping the eggy, yeasty, milky liquid into a well in the middle. Hmmmm. All I can say is that bloody Ben must have a bloody degree in engineering because when I tipped my liquid into the centre of my (high-sided and artfully constructed) well all I got was this (believe me, this was only the start):

Yes at 10:00pm on a Saturday night to the sounds of Defying Gravity I found myself leaning across the counter trying to stem the eggy flow with my chest. Fingers webbed with dough, I cursed Ben and all the lucky people with mixers. Most of all I cursed myself. I knew this would happen. I should have trusted my instincts and just used a bowl. Ah well, I'm sure for some people, dough encrusted breasts are a turn-on.

While my dough chilled I made a simple almond cream and poached some pears. By this time it was nearly midnight so I left everything in the fridge and took my sticky self to bed. The next day I started the assembly process. I was a bit nervous about the plaiting, but a mis-spent youth preparing ponies' tails for gymkhanas stood me in good stead.

I left the plait to prove while I faffed around doing Sunday morning chores. Unfortunately I faffed for a little too long and the dough was perhaps a little too puffy. If I was being mean i would say it resembled Mr AB's cheeks after his wisdom teeth removal, but I'm a supportive girlfriend so wouldn't be so cruel (tee hee).

The finished result was excellent. I'm not sure the pastry was as flaky as it should have been, but filled with the frangipane and pears it was particularly moreish. In the end I put half of it in the freezer just to stop myself from slivering it every time I walked past. I would definitely recommend trying the pastry as it isn't as daunting as you might expect and there's something very satisfying about presenting homemade pastries to your loved ones.

Be sure to look at the other plaits here and if you fancy trying the dough yourself you can get the recipe here.

Summer Lovin'?

True to the national stereotype, there is a lot of weather chat going on in the office at the moment. Everyone is wondering whether we will get any sun this year or whether the weather warning (issued on the longest day no less) is a sign of bad things to come. To be honest, I wouldn't mind if we did just fast forward into autumn. Am I the only one who celebrates the fact that the days are now getting shorter and keeps her fingers crossed not to get an Indian summer? Maybe if I tanned and had the kind of legs you'd be happy to show off in shorts it would be different. But no. I am definitely an Autumnal kinda gal (with cankles).

Regardless of how much I wish for rainy days so I can legitimately spend hours watching dvds on the sofa, I am still excited by the array of summer produce at the local farmers' market. The first raspberries, the heady strawberries, tender asparagus, tiny broad beans and more:*When everything looks so good it's hard not to fill your basket.

(don't you wish you were a broad bean - look at that downy blanket they're nestled against!)

I made a quick bruschetta with the Isle of Wight tomatoes. Grating a clove of garlic against some linseed bread and piling up the tomatoes with a little balsamic vinegar, basil and olive oil. Yum.

I'll cook the potatoes with a handful of mint and some melted butter and the asparagus with some soft scrambled eggs. Maybe summer isn't so bad after all.

* Excuse the raggedy cuticles. You wouldn't believe that I had just treated myself to my first ever manicure would you?!