Kitchen Stories

The minutes slipped by as I stood at the window drinking tisane and mesmerised by the large lines of drops falling and listening to the gently pattering sound of them falling on the fresh green leaves. It was long bank holiday weekend again and the days were full of rain. The streets were deserted and all my friends had other plans, but who can blame them when I’m hardly ever there and neglect them? How did I spend my time? In the kitchen of course.

A year has passed since I wrote that in my notebook but my Pentecost weekend was virtually unchanged. Deep in my heart though, I like those long rainy afternoons because there’s no need to feel guilty about shutting yourself away in the warmth of the kitchen, listening to 2raumwohnung as you bake. In these three days at home, I spent most of my time thinking about food, flicking through cookbooks and food blogs, persuading myself that all the admin work can wait until later. And when I wasn’t baking or eating, I was watching films. A lot of them.

I also wondered how to rid myself of this “kitchen complex” that I’ve had for a few years about only really being good with sponge cakes which surely anyone can do, right? I long to be able to take stunning pictures or make mouth-watering macaroons or puff pastry like some other bloggers. I’ve never made a decent potato gratin yet and the thought of homemade pasta or even using a wok terrifies me because I’ve never tried, ridiculous as it sounds. I envy my friends Ju’s salmon tarte and Y’s stir fried noodles which they can rustle up effortlessly. Quite likely my anxiety comes in part from the reputation as a kitchen disaster at school. It all happened the day I decided to make scones. For some reason, the dough was incredibly sticky, probably because I’d used too much butter or water, and each time I tried to lift it up, 90% stayed on the worktop. That day, only my friend C. was able to save me with a ton of flour but then she forgot to add sugar to her fairy cakes and her mother never forgave me.

Perhaps the thing I most wanted to cook was rice. My mother told me it was difficult and every time I tried, it somehow turned out dry or sticky and tasteless. I wondered why I didn’t just go to the Indian restaurant down the road again. Then a couple of weeks ago, I broke my “no more books till June” rule and bought one on basic cooking; inside was a recipe for risotto and so I set myself the challenge to make it. As a consolation though, there would also be a tarte au chocolat in case the rice was a disaster. So it was that on Saturday morning, I set off with a long shopping list and an empty basket. Even if I blew the budget with mango juice and marshmallows, I at least managed to gather everything and exchanged cooking tips with the white haired cashier at Karstadt who shares my passion for shortbread and Mohnkuchen. What happened next? The tarte was even better than expected and the risotto was tasty and a piece of cake to put together. I’d never have imagined it was that simple after all. What had I been worrying about all this time? The thunderstorm arrived and I settled down to watch the wonderful Fantômas, feeling a little less bad about my cooking and looking forward to the next rainy day.

Tarte au chocolat

This is my kind of tarte with a big thick block of chocolate on crispy pastry.

For the pastry

200g flour

80g icing sugar

60g ground almonds

150g soft butter

2 eggs

1 pinch of salt

For the filling

150g dark chocolate (70% cocoa)

150g dessert chocolate

150g crème fraîche

200ml milk

1 egg

Pre-heat the oven to 180°C

1. Cream the butter with a wooden spoon until smooth and fluffy (it shouldn’t stick to the sides of the mixing bowl).
2. Add the icing sugar and ground almonds and mix gently. The mixture may become a little dry but you’ll be adding more moisture soon so don’t worry.
3. Mix in the eggs one by one until the dough is homogenous and free of lumps.
4. Finally add the flour and salt and mix by hand, or with a mixer if you’re lucky enough to have one, until the dough is fairly smooth and not too sticky. It’s doesn’t have to look perfect though.
5. Flatten it out and wrap in clingfilm. Leave to rest in the fridge for at least an hour and remove 15 mins before you want to start rolling out.
6. When the time’s up, begin rolling on a well floured work surface until your pastry measures about 5cm more than your pie dish. I tend to bake by instinct or au pif so please don’t ask me for the exact thickness. It shouldn’t be doorstep thick or so thin that it falls apart though and you’ll probably have more than you need.
7. Place gently into a greased pie dish and prick all over with a fork to stop the pastry developing air pockets in the oven. Place a sheet of baking paper over it filled with dried lentils or rice and bake blind at 180° for about 15 mins. Then remove the paper and put the pastry case back in the oven for a further 5 mins or until it looks golden, especially around the edges. Set aside to cool.
8. To make the filling, bring the milk and crème fraîche to the boil in a small saucepan then add the chocolate. Stir until melted then remove the pan from the heat and add the egg.
9. Pour the chocolate mixture onto the pastry and bake in the oven for between 10-15 mins. The top should begin to look a bit firmer but the tarte should still be wobbly. Leave to cool then serve with a pot of tea or coffee and relax.

Tomato risotto (adapted from Delia Smith)

8 Roma tomatoes

200g risotto rice

1 onion, finely sliced

3 cloves garlic

200ml red wine

2 tablespoons tomato concentrate

300ml vegetable stock

25g butter

60g grated Parmesan

Pre-heat the oven to 200°C

1. Pour boiling water on the tomatoes and remove their skins with a sharp knife. Then cut them in half and place in a baking dish. Cover with olive oil and roast for 30-40 mins or until their look a little black around the edges. Remove from the oven and mash them with a fork.
2. For the rice, melt the butter in a medium saucepan and add the onion and garlic. Stir them for about 7 mins so they look golden brown then add the rice. You may need a bit more butter to stop it burning as it will soak up the liquid. Pour in the red wine and bring the rice to the boil. Then add the tomato concentrate, the mashed tomatoes and the stock and once again heat until everything is just starting to simmer.
3. Transfer the rice to a greased baking dish and put in the oven at 200° for 30 mins.
4. Stir in the grated parmesan and bake for another 5-10 mins until the rice is no longer hard but still a little al dente.

Apologies for the poor photo of the risotto but there wasn't much light and I was hungry.

The Long Goodbye and Tarte au Citron

This is the title of a classic Altman film which my Dad used to watch obsessively but which I somehow never saw. I can still hear the dialogue between my parents and my mother asking impatiently “Are you watching that film again?” Important scenes were of course described to me, particularly the bit where Elliott Gould tries to fool his picky cat into eating an inferior kind of food by putting it into another tin (no kitty I’ve ever met would fall for that one!). The title is also somehow appropriate for me because I’ve always dreaded having to say goodbye. When I was a child, I couldn’t bear being sent off to bed and whenever we had visitors, I used to cling to them and tearfully beg them to stay. Of course, things have improved since then but I still get that awful feeling whenever a trip or visit is coming to an end and I know we won’t see each other again for a while. Why is it always Sunday evening? Where did all that time go? Whenever J. comes to visit me in Berlin, he takes the night train from Munich. The nice thing about that is that we can breakfast together and we really do have the whole day ahead of us. The disadvantage though is that he has to return late on Sunday evening. In fact, it’s incredibly difficult after watching a Melville film and eating spaghetti aglio olio where it’s warm and cosy to then set out for the train station when you’re already feeling sleepy.

When J was here in Febraury, it had been snowing steadily all day and the soft new flakes muffled our steps as we made our way to the S-Bahn. We walked down to water’s edge at Wannsee to see its frozen surface and enjoyed those last precious moments together in that silent landscape. Last weekend though couldn’t have been more different. Our two days mainly consisted of cooking, watching films and exploring new areas in Berlin. Yesterday morning we looked at Andreas Feininger’s photos of Manhattan in the 50s and imagined how wonderful it would be to soak up the noise and energy of New York. Afterwards, J. took me to the famous Café Einstein for pear tart and a jug of hot chocolate with lashings of cream. I had often heard about it as it’s one of the oldest cafés in Berlin but was surprised to find it so discreetly tucked away in a quiet street. Unlike most customers we sat inside on the red leather banquettes in a high ceiled room with deep wooden panels, mirrors and low hanging lightshades like globes. Opposite some Spanish people were savouring their étagère brunch of pastries and blueberries with fromage blanc. Late afternoon, we strolled down to my favourite Indian restaurant in Goethestraße for Alu Gobi and Bhatura bread that burns your fingers.

When it was time to leave, the air was still sticky but with a soft breeze and the streetlamps burned like fireflies in the night to guide us. The lake glimmered with the reflections of the boats while further on the horizon, you could still see a lighter patch of sky. Towards the East there were flashes of lightning and we knew that the storm would come soon, even though everything around us made it seem so impossible. I watched J’s train pull off into the night and then was left to journey back alone. The streets seemed so much emptier and the raindrops began to fall.

This morning when I woke up, it was still raining and I knew that the only way to cheer up was to have some serious comfort food. One of my favourite recipes is tarte au citron or lemon tarte. I love its tangy creaminess and light but crisp pastry and it has never failed to lighten my mood, even on the darkest days.

Lemon Tarte

For the pastry

200g flour

50g sugar

100g cold butter

1 egg

½ egg yolk

For the filling

Juice and zest of 4 lemons, plus some longer strips

3 eggs

100g sugar

125g cream

Some icing sugar to decorate

1. Sift the flour into a mixing bowl with the sugar. Cut the butter into small pieces, then finely grate the lemon peel and add to the bowl along with the egg.
   
2. Wash your hands with cold water to keep the pastry cool and mix together by hand until it forms a smooth ball which is neither too sticky nor too dry .Add more flour or water if you need to.
3. Wrap the pastry in clingfilm and place in the fridge for an hour. Remove 15 mins before you want to roll it out.
4. Pre-heat the oven to 180°C and begin rolling the pastry out. Dust the work surface and rolling pin generously with flour and roll out until it’s not too thick or too thin (it shouldn’t fall apart) and roughly the size of your pie dish. Gently pick it up and mould it so that the pastry comes up high round the sides (it will probably shrink). Prick it all over with a fork so that you won’t get air pockets in the oven.
5. Place a layer of greaseproof paper over it and use dried beans or lentils to weight it down. Bake it blind in the oven for 10 mins then remove and brush the base with a thin layer of egg yolk (a brilliant tip I stole from the wonderful Patoumi). Bake for a further five minutes.
6. To make the filling, squeeze the juice from the lemons and grate the zest, using the peel of one half for some longer strips to decorate. Use a hand held mixer to beat the eggs and sugar until they are extremely frothy and leave ribbons when you lift up the beaters. This might take a moment so be patient. Add the lemon zest and juice to the cream and beat until thick. Mix into the sugar and eggs until smooth.
7. Pour the filling onto the pastry and bake at 170° for about 30-40 mins until the lemon cream is firm on top. Leave to cool before dusting with icing sugar and serving with a cup of tea or coffee.

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