Well, well, well! A flavoursome Saturday was had here in this little two-storey on Edinburgh’s shoreline. House-bound, waiting on some much-anticipated deliveries, I decided to hit the kitchen and cook/bake/worship (in-part) up a storm. Seeing as the meals turned out relatively fine, I thought I’d share them with you. After all, who doesn’t like a good three-course recommendation.
Firstly, the starter…
Sourdough bread
Attempt: 02
Source: The Clever Carrot
Outcome: not bad
Laughs: yes, especially at the end (pun intended)
Picture me in my kitchen, unkempt spritely vagabond in the early morning hours... flour dusting the air around me like a poetic cloud. Although I have white bread flour, I felt daring, bold, and more than a little curious, so I reached for the wholemeal flour instead. I’d read that although there is less gluten in wholemeal flour, there are extra health benefits with producing and consuming bread of this variety – the addition of fibre, vitamins and minerals. And, as I’m training for a half-marathon at the end of May, I figured… let’s build a healthy fuelling routine. As we know, wheat is an excellent source of carbohydrates - a primary fuel source for any endurance exercise.
However, sites like Runners World state that there’s no “healthiest” or “right” type of bread. Having read this account, I feel the need for an arbitrary simile... (Warning: if there is anyone out there who’d like to interject, teach me a thing or two, please comment below.) From what I gather, white bread is like the Usain Bolt of carbohydrates - it sprints through your system, providing quick energy for rapid-fire moments – for bursts of activity. But if you're in it for the long haul, whole grain is the Eluid Kipchoge of the bread world – your marathon buddy, steadily releasing energy over time for those endurance feats. If that makes sense.
(Just a heads-up from your friendly neighbourhood bread enthusiast, the comparison of runners to bread is purely for entertainment purposes. I wouldn't want any bread loaves challenging Usain Bolt to a sprint or Eliud Kipchoge for a marathon.)
On that note, has anyone here watched Nike’s Breaking2 documentary? I remember being glued to the screen in real-time, 2017, as Eluid Kipchoge attempted running a marathon in 2 hours. Kipchoge missed his mark by 26 seconds that day, but that attempt and everything he learned from it helped him realise his dream of running a marathon in under two hours two years later.
Whether or not brown bread had anything to do with it is a question for Eluid Kipchoge. Anyway! Swiftly moving on.
I spent the day interchanging between stretching, folding, and much kneading – as 
After waiting an hour for it to cool down, buttering a slice, and giving it a nibble, my review is: less stodgy than my previous attempt. I knew it would be fibrous, owing to the more compact nature of the wheat. Indeed, the preparation was a little more strenuous – it being a much firmer dough that rose far less than its predecessor. But, not bad!
Here's to my second sourdough escapade!
And now, onto the main…
Crisp cauliflower with rose harissa & goat’s cheese: Before we get into to it, can we just highlight that cauliflower is so underrated. Oh, glorious cruciferous wonder! Oh, unsung hero of the vegetable world!
First off, cauliflower is like a culinary chameleon, effortlessly adapting to any dish it encounters. Roast it, mash it, rice it, blend it, or even turn it into pizza crust – cauliflower does it all with finesse and flair. But wait, there's more! Not only is cauliflower incredibly versatile, but it's also a nutritional powerhouse. Packed with vitamins, minerals, and antioxidants, this veggie is like a superhero for your health, fighting off free radicals and boosting your immune system.
Cauliflower meals are always delicious – and this one it no exception.
This is one of the most visually beautiful dishes in Rukmini Iyer’s “The Green Roasting Tin” book. With a prep-time of ten minutes, and a cooking time of 30… It’s brilliantly brief and easy.
You begin with breaking one very large cauliflower into florets. Now, while Iyer suggests going for cauliflower steaks and even throwing in the greens, I decided to keep it compact, perfect for my trusty work lunchbox.
I intertwined those florets with fiery slices of red onion, generously coated them in the sultry embrace of rose harissa and olive oil, and seasoned them with a sprinkle of salt.
Breaking apart 120g of goat’s cheese, I pressed this into the florets. Topped with pine nuts and panko breadcrumbs. And many handfuls of fresh parsley. After a loving drizzle of olive oil, they hit the oven for just half an hour. It was that easy!
I served with several dollops of Greek yoghurt – although couscous came recommended. Ahh, it was delicious. Honestly, with cauliflower there are no limits – only endless possibilities.
Finally, the desert…
Orange Tompouce: Ah, King’s Day. A jubilant celebration steeped in tradition, where the streets are awash with a sea of orange. I’d share with you some photographs from last year – but, in true form, my phone was stolen in the midst of a packed crowd in Amsterdam. The year before that, I was in Antwerp – far away from festivities in the North. And the year before that… well, we were battling the lasting impacts of isolation and were hardly in the mood. Although, when I did backtrack through my archive on Instagram to see if I had any images from that period I had to laugh – couldn’t get more stereotypically “Dutch” than these three images, taken on the day as I travelled from Wassenaar by bike into the Hague to see what all the fuss was about. (Do ignore the disastrous colours - I was nearing the end of my filter phase.)
This year I joined in the celebrations from a quite a distance away, in Edinburgh. I baked my very own tompouce, based off a recipe published by the Dutch Health Store. Now, creating a tompouce is no mere task; it is a delicate ballet of flavours and textures, beginning with the meticulous art of baking puff pastry. (I’ll divulge the trick later in a moment.) The recipe also details the pièce de résistance – the luscious pastry cream. Although supermarkets are stacked with ready-made mixes, it’s always worth the effort to go homemade – so the recipe says. Did I attempt it? Yes! Did I succeed? No! And I’ll tell you why… But first:
Ingredients:
•8 sheets of puff pastry
•500 ml milk
•100 g granulated sugar
•4 egg yolks
•2 tablespoons flour
•2 vanilla pods
•150 ml cream
•4 sheets of gelatine
For the Icing:
•150 g icing sugar
•4 tablespoons carrot juice
•150 ml whipping cream
Begin with preheating the oven to 200°C. Cut the puff pastry sheets in half to create 16 rectangles and place them on a baking tray. The trick I alluded to earlier is to ensure those layers remain impeccably flaky – the method online encourages you to simply prick each piece with a fork, and place a baking rack atop the pastry sheets before they take flight into the oven. Bake for 10 minutes, remove the top tray, and bake for another 5-10 minutes until golden brown. Also, don't forget to flatten with an oven mitten. The pastry has to be flat. Works like a charm!
Meanwhile, in a saucepan, bring 400 ml of milk and sugar to a boil. Add the scraped vanilla seeds or two teaspoons of vanilla extract. In a separate bowl, whisk egg yolks with remaining milk and flour. Gradually stir into hot milk and simmer for 2 minutes. Chill in the refrigerator for 15 minutes.
Here, things went slightly astray...
The method for cream is as follows: you should soften the gelatine in cold water for 5 minutes, then dissolve in 50mls of heated cream. Whip the remaining cream until stiff peaks form. Then stir cooled pastry cream, mix in gelatine, and fold in whipped cream. Finally, pipe mixture into rectangles and chill.
But, in a moment reminiscent of Monty Python's most absurd sketches, my electric handheld mixer decided to stage a grand exit, joining the illustrious choir of invisible appliances in the great beyond. Mid-mix it began to smoke. I smelt the stark, acidic burn before I noticed sparks flying. Hastily, I unplugged the device and looked with surprise down at my greyish curdled cream. Ah, the unpredictable whims of kitchen gadgets… a tale as old as time.
I set the cream aside - not too bothered by the exclusion. But I’m not sure if this completely knocks my tompouce out the window? (That is almost certainly not the correct saying hahahaha, although in all seriousness that’s exactly what I should have done with my slightly charred mess.) Does any Dutch person here want to step in and answer this for me? Did I deviate from tradition a little too much? Or is it fine to embrace the quirks of a creamless fate?
So, I seized the opportunity to chart a new course in the annals of tompouce history… I was more perturbed by my exploding mixer and am slightly squeamish about gelatine anyway, so it wasn’t a huge sacrifice.
The recipe notes that you should prepare the icing by mixing icing sugar with carrot juice. Now, my local ASDA doesn’t stock carrot juice… So I turned to an Innocent alternative – their Citrus juice. (“Innocent” being in the title, not an indication of any shady characters lurking among the aisles.) You glaze this on top of your filling and pastry sandwiches – and there you have it!
** Savers note - instead of buying a pipe just create your own out of recylced baking paper?
Optionally, garnish with whipped cream and decorations. Preparing to visit my Dutch colleague out here, who is two weeks away from giving birth to a baby boy, I opted for blue sprinkles – indicative of muisjes on top of rusks – beschuit met muisjes. Without access to De Ruitjer – and feeling the taste of anise might not gel well with creamy, vanilla pastries anyway – this was the best I could do.
Excluding the fact that Wietske is very pregnant with cravings for any/all sweet foods, and - in true Dutch form - is just quintessentially kind, she exclaimed that my tompouce was “as good as the Hema’s”, which is the pinnacle of success as far as compliments go.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this post and find the recipes useful.
What better way to pass the time waiting for parcels to arrive than in the kitchen, elbow deep in rose harissa and wholemeal flour, singing along to the likes of Queen's “Living on My Own”.
At the end of the day, I joined the crowd of sun-worshippers on the Newhaven bank. Watched, transfixed, as our fiery orb drifted towards the horizon. And went out.
Thought: life’s alright, innit.
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Photographs: unless otherwise noted, all images were taken by me with an iPhone 8
