Winterfell Roasted Chestnuts in Brandy

Thoughts:

Chestnuts are a seasonal treasure in the autumn and winter, and if you’ve never tried them, you’re definitely missing out. While they might look like strange little alien foods once they’re peeled, the flavor and novelty of them makes all the effort worth it.

The chestnut harvests in the past couple of years have been dodgy, so I was delighted to find a beautiful batch in the store just before Thanksgiving. The cashier gave me a knowing smile in the checkout line, indicating that she, too, loved these tasty little morsels.

The chestnuts are soft and tender when roasted just long enough, and while naturally sweet on their own, the simple syrup takes them up to the next level of delectable. A dash of spice and brandy gives them an extra holiday flavor boost, and the end result is something so tasty and snackable that I scarcely got a picture before they were all gone. Plus, that extra pizzazz of fiery brandy makes for an impressive preparation!

Where in Westeros?

While I could see plain roasted chestnuts being a favorite winter street food in the cities of Westeros, this strikes me as a very northern recipe. Can’t you just imagine the steaming pans of these gems being enjoyed in the Winter Town outside the walls of Winterfell? Or see the young Stark kids sneaking a few out of the kitchen while indulgent cooks pretend not to notice?

Roasted Brandy Chestnuts Recipe

Pairs well with: ice cream, brandy or mead,

Roasting: 30 minutes Prep: 15 minutes Cooking: 20 minutes

Ingredients:

1 lb. chestnuts (roughly 35 or so)
1/4 cup brown sugar
2 Tbs. honey
1 cup brandy
1/2 tsp. cinnamon

Carve an X into the flat side of each chestnut with a sharp knife, then boil for 30 seconds. Drain and move to an oven-safe pan. Roast in oven at 425F for about 25-30 minutes. Allow to cool until handleable, then peel.

Move the peeled chestnuts to a frying pan, sprinkle with the sugar and honey, then add brandy and warm over medium heat. Using a long match or lighter, light the brandy. Shake the pan slightly, keeping on the heat, until the brandy burns out. Add the cinnamon, and continue to cook, stirring occasionally to coat the chestnuts, until the mixture thickens somewhat into a syrup. Serve warm.

Highgarden Apple Roses

Thoughts:

The people have spoken, and the winner of my recent Twitter poll for the next recipe’s region was overwhelmingly Highgarden. I guess we are all in the mood for some green growing things and flowers after winter, huh? :)

These stunning little show-stopping desserts are actually easier to make than you might guess. You may remember seeing them as part of Margaery Tyrell’s ideal meal from last summer, but I’ve never quite stopped thinking about them since. They’re just beautiful as an addition to a feast spread, but they’re also a nice surprise dessert to a simple dinner.

The variations presented simply by the choice of jelly are numerous- personally, I really love a version with apple cider jelly, but consider also a rosehip jam (perfect for Highgarden), or a redcurrant, or even a thin layer of lemoncurd. Try them out, and see what you think!

Highgarden Apple Rose Recipe

Makes: about a dozen, depending on size

Prep: 45 minutes Baking: 20-25 minutes

Pie dough:

2 cups flour
1/4 cup sugar
1 stick salted butter
cold water

Ingredients:

2-3 apples
1 cup water
splash of cider vinegar
2 tablespoons brown sugar
pinch each cinnamon and nutmeg
3 tablespoons jelly
Powdered sugar, for dusting (optional)

Start off by making your pie dough so it has time to chill: combine the flour and sugar, then rub in the butter until you have only small pieces remaining. Gradually add in the cold water until you have a dough that comes together. Fold over on itself several times to encourage layering, then wrap in plastic and chill for at least an hour.

Preheat the oven to 375°F. Grease a standard muffin tin, and/or a mini muffin tin (I like making at least two different sizes for a nice look on the plate).

Combine the water, vinegar, brown sugar, and spices in a small saucepan over medium-low heat.

Slice each apple in half down the stem end, the scoop out the core using a sharp knife or the small end of a melon-baller. Slice the apples as thin as you can, then pop them into the prepared pan on the stovetop to keep them from browning. Stir the apple slices as you cook them for around 5-10 minutes, until they are starting to turn translucent but still hold their shape. Strain them out of the pan, and set aside to cool somewhat.

Take the pie dough out of the fridge and roll out half at a time on a lightly floured surface to about 1/4″ thick, and about 10″ wide (you can do shorter strips, or cut long strips in half if using a mini muffin pan). Cut into long strips about 1 1/2″ wide. Spread a very thin layer of jelly on each strip, then begin layering the apple slices on the top half of each strip, as below:

Fold the bottom of the strip up over the top, then gently coil the apples and dough into a cinnamon roll shape, which should give you that lovely rose shape on the top. Move each finished rose to the prepared muffin pan, then continue until all the dough and apples are used up.

Bake for around 25-30 minutes, or until the dough starts to turn golden. These apple roses are best served warm, and are also delicious with a little ice cream or custard sauce on the side.

Apple Rose with custard and redcurrants

Artichoke Pie with Cheese and Herbs, 1570

Thoughts:

Whenever I feel like I’ve lost some direction when it comes to historical cooking, I like to sit down with some of my favorite old cookbooks and flip through until something inspires me. In this case, it was a pie from the 1570s Italian cookbook by Bartolomeo Scappi, and specifically an artichoke pie, which piqued my interest.

This recipe is in the section for crostata, from which I pulled another recipe for a peach crostata. This, like that one, calls for Scappi’s signature coil of dough around the outside of the pie. This time around, I spent more time trying to figure out what the heck one is supposed to do to make the dough “right”. I’m still not positive that I’ve nailed it down, but I can tell you that the pie was fantastic, regardless.

At its heart (small pun intended!), this is a very simple tart- crust, cheese, artichoke hearts, and a few mild spices. The combination of these ingredients, fresh and warm from the oven, is just lovely. The cheese melts into the nooks and crannies of the artichoke hearts, making each forkful a gooey delight. Although you can’t quite tell from the photo, the outside crust is a coil of dough layered with herbs and parmesan cheese, which means that the pie is tasty right through the last bite. It’s going on my list of staples for vegetarian guests, and I look forward to making it again this summer for interesting picnic/potluck foods!

Where in Westeros?

I’m guessing somewhere around the middle or southern end of the continent. It strikes me as a very King’s Landing dish, for whatever reason, but since artichokes thrive in warmer climates, the Reach would also be a strong contender.

Recipe for Artichoke Crostata

“Get artichokes in their season, as is said in the Second Book, on Prepared Dishes, at Recipe 213, and cook them in a meat broth or in salted water. Take the heart, which is their best part, and clean it well. If it is big, slice it and make the crostata or pie of it with the same ingredients as are used with the field mushrooms…” -The Opera of Bartolomeo Scappi, 1570

Cook’s Note: I went light on the sugar in the dough, since this is a mostly savory dish, but enough sugar layers might result in a nice crispy sort of a dough, similar to that amazing sweet croissant-like pastry whose name currently eludes me, but whose taste haunts me…

Prep: 30 minutes Chilling: 1 hour Baking:45 minutes

Makes 1 pie, or roughly 8 servings

Dough Ingredients:

3 cups flour
1 tsp. salt
1 cup chilled butter or lard, plus ~2 Tbs. melted for brushing
2 egg yolks
cold water, about 1 cup
1/4 cup sugar (turbinado or demerara are best)

Ingredients for filling:

2 14 oz. cans artichoke hearts
2 medium balls of mozarella (or provatura, if available)
2 Tbs. grated parmesan
1 tsp. each dried mint and marjoram
dash of verjuice, or wine vinegar

Begin by making your dough: Combine the flour and salt in a large bowl, then roughly cut in the butter until it is about the size of small peas. Add the egg yolks (the whites can be saved to make custard sauce for dessert- my favorite!), followed by just enough of the cold water to bring the mixture mostly together. Divide into two pieces, then wrap in plastic and chill for at least an hour.

Once the dough is chilled, take one half of it and roll it out on a lightly floured surface to a rectangular shape. Brush the middle of the dough with melted butter, sprinkle with sugar, then fold one side over like a letter. Brush this third with butter, sprinkle with sugar, and fold the last side over. Repeat this process at least once more- it creates layers in the dough- with this and the other half of the dough. Place the first half of layered dough back in the fridge while you work on putting together the pie.

Roll one half of the layered dough out to about 1/8″ thickness, and cut out a circle the same size as the bottom of your pan, and place it in the pan when you’re done (I used a springform pan, but a pie pan should work too). Take the scraps from that cutting and roll them out into a slender rope that is long enough to go around the outside of the pan. Roll it flat, to a few inches width, and spread with melted butter, and sprinkle with about 1 tsp. of the crushed herbs and 1/2 Tbs. of the parmesan. Roll up as you would a cinnamon roll, then give the whole coil several good twists to help keep it from unrolling. Lay the coil on top of the disc of dough in your pan, pressing to the edge of the pan slightly.

Now the fun part- the filling! Preheat the oven to 350F. Sprinkle the bottom of the pie with half the remaining crushed herbs, then a layer of artichoke hearts. Top this with a layer of sliced mozarella and the rest of the herbs, then more artichokes. Repeat this layering until you’ve used up all your ingredients. Sprinkle the top with the remaining parmesan, then set the pie aside.

Roll out the other half of the layered dough and cut into decorative shapes to cover the top, making sure to leave air vents. Brush the top of the pie with any remaining melted butter you have left. Bake for around 45 minutes, or until the top of the pie starts to turn a nice light golden color. Allow to cool for at least 10 minutes before slicing. Enjoy!

*If you have a lot of dough scraps, I suggest brushing them with butter, covering with cinnamon sugar, and baking until cooked. They make an amazing, easy, totally delicious dessert, especially if you used those two egg whites to make up some custard sauce!*

Review: The Fever Tree – Mulligatawny Stew

I received a copy of this book as part of a giveaway on Goodreads.com, and was delighted. I didn’t know what to expect, but figured it was some sort of romance. I anticipated a quick read, and if I was lucky, a few descriptions of food.

What I got was an experiential novel that is more like watching a film than reading a book.

Frances Irving, the story’s protagonist, is a proper young woman thrown into extreme circumstances that were not uncommon for her sex during the time period. Forced to make difficult decisions that take her from comfort and security of the world she has always known, she must confront the 19th century South African diamond trade,

It paints a devastatingly harsh picture of the Kimberley Diamond Mine and the politics that surround it. In the photo below, you can see the massive hand-dug mine, the largest in the world, and the cables that brought dirt up from the bottom to dump at the top. The mine was a veritable jigsaw puzzle of different claims, which is why there were so many levels of digging. And as is so often the case, where there is potential for wealth, there is also cruelty, injustice, political schemes, and abject poverty.

Kimberley Diamond Mine, late 1800s

Frances can be an irritating, impractical twit of a girl. The beginning of the story is difficult to get through because Frances struggles so much to adapt to her new life and surroundings, and we readers struggle with her.

But the really remarkable thing about the writing is that as the story progresses, as Frances grows and evolves, we begin to not only like her, but admire her. As her understanding of the world into which she has been thrust deepens, so too does our perspective of the novel. She is surrounded by complex and interesting characters, in settings as harsh or lovely as the landscape. Her loves become our loves, her victories, ours.

Honestly, I don’t have the word-skills to fully convey what an amazing book this is (if I did, I’d be a novelist, too). All I can do is heartily recommend giving it a read- it’s a story that will stay with you.

For the dish selection from this book, I toyed with several ideas: peaches in syrup, mulberry jam, coffee with ground figs, leg of lamb, and poached salmon with hollandaise sauce. In the end, though, I chose Mulligatawny Stew, a dish that comes from an amalgamation of cultures, much as South Africa is a collection of many different cultures and backgrounds.

“The boy knocked on the door, and William got up and took the tray from him. There was a tureen of soup and a loaf of bread. He sat on the floor, pulling her down next to him, along with a heap of sheets, so she was propped up against the bed with her hair falling about her knees. She ate hungrily. The soup was mulligatawny, thick and hot with a deep spiciness, and the butter tripped off the bread down her fingers. She was starving and ate with intent, aware of him watching her closely.”

-The Fever Tree, by Jennifer McVeigh

Mulligatawny Soup Recipe

serves 4-6

Cook’s Notes: The basis for this recipe comes from Mrs. Beeton’s giant book of recipes, circa 1860. I reduced the amount of onions from the original 6 down to 4, figuring that our modern onions might be a tad larger than those available in the 19th century, and likewise tweaked down the cumin from a full 2 tablespoons. By nature, this is a sort of hodge-podge stew, so I encourage you to include whatever ingredients you might have on hand.

Ingredients:

4 slices of lean bacon
4 onions
1 clove of garlic
1 lb. meat (chicken, rabbit, and pork all work well)
1 oz. of pounded almonds
1 1/2 Tbs. of curry powder
2 quarts of stock
a little lemon-pickle or mango-juice, to taste

Fry the bacon until just crispy, and remove to a plate lined with paper towels to dry. Add a tablespoon of butter to the pan and fry the onions and garlic until light brown and soft. Scoop them out and add them to a medium saucepan. Crumble the bacon into bite-sized pieces and add those to the stew pot. Brown your meat in the same pan and add that to the saucepan, along with the stock. Simmer until the meat is tender, skimming periodically. Grind the curry and almonds with a bit of the stock, then add to the pot. Flavor to taste with a bit of lemon juice, or if you have it, lemon-pickle.

Serve hot with bread or rice.

Apricot-Plum Smoothie, from City of Bones

Clary spoke up hastily. “What’s all the raw meat for?” she asked, indicating the third page of her menu.

“Werewolves,” said Jace. “Though I don’t mind a blody steak myself every once in a while.” He reached across the table and flipped Clary’s menu over. “Human food is on the back.”

She perused the perfectly ordinary menu selections with a feeling of stupefaction. It was all too much. “They have smoothies here?”

“There’s this apricot-plum smoothie with wildflower honey that’s simply divine,” said Isabelle, who had appeared with Simon at her side. “Shove over,” she said to Clary, who scooted so close to the wall that she could feel the cold bricks pressing into her arm. Simon, sliding in next to Isabelle, offered her a half-embarrassed smile that she didn’t return. “You should have one.”

-City of Bones, Book One of the Mortal Instruments series, by Cassandra Clare

Thoughts:

What a delightful summery smoothie, from the “human side” of the menu at Taki’s Diner! The skins of the fruit create a colorful confetti appearance throughout the smoothie, the chia seeds give it a little texture, while the ginger gives it a bit of zing. I used a fizzy elderflower drink, which added a minutely floral component.

If you like, make the mixture a little thick, and top with granola. Just make sure that you’re not using Faerie plums: I hear they can make one go mad! ;)

Apricot-Plum Smoothie

makes 1 large serving, or 2 small

Ingredients:

2-3 apricots
1 plum
2 Tbs. wildflower honey, plus more to top
1/2 cup yogurt (vanilla is best)
1 tsp. ground ginger
1 Tbs. chia seeds
juice, such as white grape, apple, or elderflower
granola to top (optional)

Combine the fruit, honey, yogurt, ginger, and chia seeds in a blender. Add a splash of juice, and blend. If needed, continue to add juice a small amount at a time until the whole mixture can be easily blended.

Basil-wrapped Goat Cheese – The Hunger Games

“On the table, under a wooden bowl to protect it from hungry rats and cats alike, sits a perfect little goat cheese wrapped in basil leaves. Prim’s gift to me on reaping day. I put the cheese carefully in my pocket as I slip outside… [Later,] Gale spreads the bread slices with the soft goat cheese, carefully placing a basil leaf on each while I strip the bushes of their berries.” – The Hunger Games

Thoughts:

Historically, the very freshest cheeses, those too young to have rinds, were frequently wrapped in leaves of various sorts. The leaves themselves served to protect the interior paste from hazards of the environment (such as bugs and debris) as well as helped to retain moisture. Today, they are for the most part used for aesthetics and in some cases, such as this one, to impart subtle flavors.

There were a few challenges when making this goat cheese. First, I had pasteurized milk from the store, not the rich and creamy raw milk straight from the farm, as Prim would have used. The second issue was the addition of an acid to make the cheese curdle. I used lemon juice the first time, and although I experimented with several other options, none tasted as good to me as that lemon version. So, while vinegar or buttermilk also work, the lemon makes for the best taste. Of the three, I think Prim would have used buttermilk, since it could also come from the goat, and wouldn’t require trading for other ingredients. And while rennet is often added to even simple goat cheeses, the Everdeens are a very poor family in a very poor district. Because of that, I’ve opted for this very basic recipe that uses a minimum of ingredients.

It results in a very soft, flavorful cheese that is easy to spread, and delicious. The basil flavors, if you choose to go that route, seep into the cheese, giving it a subtle herb flavor. I enjoyed it as in the book: on fresh bread, with the basil leaves, but it’s also great with apples, on salad, and any other way you can think.

Recipe for Simple Goat Cheese

Ingredients:

1 quart goat’s milk (pasteurized is fine, but don’t use ultra-pasteurized)
1/3 cup fresh lemon juice
salt to taste
several bunches of large-leafed basil

Preparation:

You’ll also need:

a sauce pot, preferably stainless steel
Thermometer
Cheesecloth
Strainer or colander
string or rubberband
round cookie or biscuit cutter

Pour the goats milk into the sauce pot. Turn on the heat, and put the thermometer into the milk. When it’s reached about 180F, turn off the heat, and pour in the lemon juice/vinegar and salt. Stir gently to combine, then let sit and cool for around 15 minutes.

While the milk is sitting, stretch the cheesecloth over the strainer, and set over another deep bowl or pot. When it’s ready, pour the milk mixture into the prepared cheesecloth, letting the liquid drain into the container below. Gather the ends of the cheesecloth together, and secure with string. Hang this bundled cheese over a bowl for at least 2 hours or overnight, until all the liquid has drained out.

At this point, your cheese is done, and you can form it into a ball or log. To wrap it in basil leaves, follow these steps:

Pick the largest basil leaves off the bunch. Arrange these inside the round cookie cutter, with their stem ends together; they should overlap somewhat. Spoon in scoops of cheese, pressing them into the round shape. Wrap the ends of the basil leaves up over the cheese, securing them with a small blob of extra cheese, if necessary.

Enjoy!

Lakeside Pasties – American Gods

“Shadow had no idea what a pasty was, but he said that would be fine, and in a few moments Mabel returned with a plate with what looked like a folded-over pie on it. The lower half was wrapped in a paper napkin. Shadow picked it up with the napkin and bit into it: it was warm and filled with meat, potatoes, carrots, onions. ‘First pasty I’ve ever had,’ he said. ‘It’s real good.'”

-American Gods, by Neil Gaiman

Thoughts:

Rich, savory meat and vegetables wrapped up in pastry. What’s not to love? Pasties are a traditional fare in the UK, where they feature a variety of fillings. Mine is a basic version, although I swapped in some buffalo meat in place of regular beef, and couldn’t be happier with the choice. Each bite has a combination of meat, veg, and flaky pastry just lightly coated with a flavorful gravy.

They are even better with a little sharp cheddar and/or sauce, such as chutney or ketchup.

Lakeside Pasties Recipe

Prep time: 45 minutes Makes: ~10 pasties

Ingredients:

pastry dough for 2 pie crusts
5 slices bacon
2 carrots, chopped small
1 medium potato, chopped small
1/2 onion, diced
1/2 tsp. salt
1 lb. meat (good beef, bison, venison, or lamb are all great)
2 Tbs. butter, divided
1 Tbs. flour
1/2 cup beef broth
1 egg, beaten, for wash

Fry the bacon in a large pan until just crispy. Remove the bacon, leaving the grease. Add the vegetables to the grease and cook for around two minutes, stirring occasionally. Pour in about 1/2 cup of water, cover, and allow to simmer for another few minutes, until the potatoes and carrots can be easily pierced with a fork. Scoop out the vegetables, leaving as much of the liquid behind as possible.

Into the liquid, melt a Tbs. of butter. Sprinkle in a Tbs. of flour, stirring all the while. When this mixture begins to thicken, add the broth and continue to mix until the whole is one relatively smooth consistency. Pour into a separate bowl with the bacon and veggies.

Season meat with a generous pinch of salt. Melt another Tbs. butter in the pan, and brown the meat. Pour the gravy-veggie mixture back into the pan with the browned meat. Stir around to mix up completely.

Roll out the dough to a little under 1/4″ thick, and cut out 8″ circles. Fill with a heaping serving of the filling. Brush the edge with beaten egg, fold the dough over, and seal with a fork.

Bake for 30 minutes at 350F.

Madame Corvaleur’s Chocolate Dusted Cherries – Red Seas under Red Skies

“Izmila Corvaleur was nearly of a size with Jean, wide and florid, prodigiously rounded in every place a woman could be round. She was undeniably attractive, but the intelligence that shone out of her eyes was sharp and contemptuous. In her Locke recognized a contained pugnacity akin to that of a street brawler – a honed appetite for hard contests. Corvaleur nibbled constantly from a silver-gilded box of cherries coated in powdered chocolate, sucking her fingers loudly after each one. Her own strat peti, of course.”

–Red Seas under Red Skies, by Scott Lynch

Thoughts:

Yep. Scott Lynch has done it again.

I personally liked the balsamic version of this recipe the best. I tried red wine, brandy, and sherry, also, but the balsamic really brought out the flavor of the cherries. Also, I think a non-alcoholic set of truffles is more appropriate to the scene in the book. I mean, would taking an alcoholic snack to a drinking game make sense?

However, to be scientific about it, I dutifully tried all the other versions. Of the boozy truffles, I like the red wine. The brandy was too strong for me, the alcohol overpowering the cherry. A lot of folks like this pairing, though, so I recommend trying several versions to see what you like best. A pinch of spice in the cocoa can also tweak them into something rather unique.

In any case, the truffles are remarkably simple to make, and decadently rewarding when you do. The marinated cherries burst when you bite into them, and the chocolate-fruit flavor is a classic pairing for a good reason. The chocolate truffle coating has a rich and silky texture that will melt in your mouth. Delicious as they were, I couldn’t eat more than about six of them in one sitting, but then, I’m no Madam Corvaleur.

I also had much more ambitious ideas for the photo above, but I’ll probably have to wait until someone makes me a Carousel Hazard set. Which I would love, by the way. Just saying… ;)

Chocolate-covered Cherry Truffles Recipe

Soaking Cherries/Truffle Mixture: sits overnight Prep: 30 minutes

Makes about 20 truffles

Ingredients:

Chocolate-covered Cherry Truffles

1/4 cup balsamic vinegar, or sweet red wine
30 dried cherries
4 oz. bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped
1/3 cup heavy whipping cream
3 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa
a pinch of mahlep (optional)

Soak the cherries in the balsamic overnight, or for a minimum of 8 hours.

In a medium saucepan, bring the cream to a simmer over medium heat. Turn off heat, and pour in the chopped chocolate. Stir until the chocolate is melted, and the whole mixture is smooth. Let cool overnight.

Line a baking sheet with parchment paper, or wax paper. Scrape out a spoonful of the truffle mixture, flatten, and shape around a cherry. Roll in cocoa, and set aside. If you like, you can combine a bit of mahlep or other spice with the cocoa; this will give the truffles a bit of extra, exotic kick.

Chocolate-covered Cherry Truffles

Almond Crusted Rolls – Gentlemen Bastards series

“‘Barrel-boy!’ the Sanza brothers hollered in unison; a moment later a small almond-crusted bread-roll arced from between their seats, hit Bug right between the eyes, and plopped down onto his empty plate. Bug tore it in half and responded in kind, aiming well despite his wobbliness.”

–The Lies of Locke Lamora, by Scott Lynch

Thoughts:

When I first read this passage with an eye towards food, I had a vision of a brioche-like roll, topped with sliced almonds. I don’t know why that roll in particular, but it’s what I thought of, and in the end, it’s what I made.

In addition to being topped with almonds, there is a dash of almond flour in these little brioches as well. The result is a melting, buttery, slightly nutty roll that will be gone before you realize you’ve eaten it. Seriously. I ate three, back to back. The almonds on top give a crunchy counterpoint to the soft dough, and compliment the flavor of the almond flour. They’re wonderful for breakfast, or any other time of day, but be sure they get their fair share of attention. They deserve it.

Recipe for Almond-Crusted Brioches

Makes 8 rolls

Ingredients:

1 1/2 cups flour
1/2 cup almond flour
3 Tbs. sugar
2 tsp. instant yeast
1 tsp. coarse salt, plus a pinch for tops
1/2 cup unsalted butter
1 large eggs, 1 additional egg for wash
1/4 cup milk, room temperature

Combine the flours and other dry ingredients. Rub in the butter. Beat the eggs into the milk, then gradually add the mixture to the dry ingredients, stirring to combine. Knead the dough for several minutes until it gains an elastic consistency. Cover loosely with plastic wrap, put in a warm place, and allow to rise for a couple of hours, or until it has doubled in size.

Deflate the dough, and divide into 8 equal pieces. Smooth out each ball of dough by stretching the dough down and pinching it at the bottom. Place the dough in brioche tins, or in a standard muffin tin. Allow to rise again, this time for around 45 minutes. Brush with beaten egg wash, and sprinkle some slivered almonds on top.

Bake for 15 minutes at 350F, until the tops are a beautiful golden brown.

Like this recipe? Check out other recipes from the Gentlemen Bastards series.

Pop Biscuits – The Faraway Tree

Pop Biscuits, filled with honey-butter

Thoughts:

This whimsical snack, at first blush, seemed wonderfully simple to put together. I blithely made a batch of biscuits, filled them with honey, and baked. They were not a success.

In addition to my wandering away from the oven for a bit too long, leaving the biscuits to brown, the honey soaked into the dough, leaving sweetened little hollows on the inside of the biscuits. Not cool. So a few days later, I tried another approach. This time, I baked the biscuits, and filled them after they were cooled.

This produced the winningest of successes. The biscuits are filled with these wonderful blobs of honey-butter, and when you bite into them, it does, in fact, almost pop. Each bite is sweet, but not overpowering, wonderfully portable, stealable, and all around scoffable.

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