Arctic Cloudberry

new year

Christmas aftermath and my foodie highlights of 2015

20:47

bilberry

Cranberry soup Karpalokiisseli - a shiny red Christmas dessert

15:17

alzheimer's

Christmas of darkness and light

23:17

Christmas menu

Meal Planning Monday - My Christmas week menu

08:08

bake

Finnish Christmas hero - Sweetened potato bake

10:32

atlantic

Wild Atlantic salmon and crayfish or salmon and prawns baked with sour cream and dill

22:48

baking

Biscuits for Gentlefolk - Finnish raspberry jam filled sandwich biscuits

19:40

Raspberry jam sandwich biscuits - traditional Finnish recipe

I was reminded about this recipe by a discussion online. Someone was posting a question trying to find the recipe for these raspberry jam filled sandwich biscuits, a bit like Jammy Dodgers, but softer and lovelier. The person asking had been given the delicious cookies by their professor (my professor never gave me biscuits, which probably was a good thing considering his personal hygiene which was questionable at best), who had Finnish roots and it was his grandmother's secret recipe, which the good professor would not reveal. Only it probably isn't that secret. This is the kind of thing everybody's grandmother would have made.

Actually I can't remember either of my grandmothers making these. One of them didn't really bake, she was a bit of a posho and didn't excel in the kitchen or other practical things apart from the very useful everyday skill of embroidery. I think she never washed her hair herself but had it done at the salon. But I remember she always bought lovely handmade patisserie, many of it with pink icing which I very much approved of. My maternal grandmother on the other hand had no time for embroidery, washed her hair in a lake and was a great cook and baker.

I have heard cookery genes are passed from mother to daughter, which would make sense because my mother is a great cook as are my sister and I. The same apparently goes with handicraft genes which are visibly absent from my maternal mitochondrial DNA. When everyone else in the class where crocheting multicoloured pot holders like there was no tomorrow I was given special dispensation and produced several meter long chain stitch erm... chains. With a little bit of creativity I'm sure there are many uses for these things. I might explore that in a separate blog post.

A friend of mine was even more pathetic sewing a skirt shut at the waist. Teacher gave her otherwise good feedback on the effort, but was a bit baffled as to how anyone would get into the skirt.

So these cookies were not handed over to me on a cellular level, but we had a lovely hired auntie, Auntie Mäkelä. She came once a week to clean and bake (mum was a great cook and homemaker, but was also a career woman, hence the hired Auntie). I remember the frantic cleaning every Wednesday to make the house ready for Auntie Mäkelä to clean on Thursdays. And Thursday afternoons when we got home from school the kitchen counters would be covered with tins of Cinnamon buns and biscuits and all kinds of goodies including these traditional raspberry jam biscuits.

We knew not to touch anything. Auntie Mäkelä wanted my mother to see everything she had made, so that she would know we were getting value for money. We were always given a huge plate of the cut-off ends or slightly off coloured ones which we were absolutely happy with and wouldn't dream of touching the end products that had passed Auntie Mäkelä's strict quality control.

One Thursday afternoon Auntie Mäkelä came to my room visibly distressed. "You must come and help. The American is eating all the biscuits." We were hosting an American exchange student who all the teenage girls in the town including me were in love with and who of course turned out to be gay. He had a bit of a sweet tooth and was digging into the biscuits and cakes with both hands and just laughing maniacally in his sugar-high when Auntie Mäkelä tried to slap his fingers or force the lids on the tins.

I don't remember if I managed to shoo him off, but at least I was a witness so I could tell Mum when she got home that it was the greedy Texan who was at fault.

Biscuits for Gentlefolk - Finnish raspberry jam filled sandwich biscuits

Gentlefolk's biscuits with raspberry jam filling (makes about 35)

I'm not sure where the name for these comes from. Maybe they were thought a bit fancy with the raspberry jam and sugar coating. Maybe they were the kind that the kitchen maids were not allowed to eat or serve to the other staff, but were for the family only.

I found this recipe and just translated it. There are other versions online as well, some with a splash of double cream (just add together with the egg), which I imagine might make them even better.

200 g butter
1 1/4 dl sugar
1 egg
1 tl vanilla extract or paste
4 dl all purpose flour
1 tl baking powder
for filling: raspberry jam
decoration: caster sugar

Whisk the room temperature butter and sugar together and keep blending until light and airy. Fold in gently the egg, vanilla and dry ingredients. Form into a ball and refrigerate for a little while so it firms up and is easier to roll.

Dust the work surface and the rolling pin with flour. Roll the dough until 3-4mm thin. Use a round cutter and place pieces on a baking sheet (original recipe says it should make about a 100, but I must have made them thicker or larger - I got 70 out of it) .

Bake in 185C for 8-10 minutes. The biscuits should be done but not change colour. Cool and top half of them with a small spoonful of raspberry jam. Sandwich together with the rest of the biscuits.

Pour caster sugar on a plate and roll each biscuit in the sugar until nicely covered on both sides.

They should be let to rest in a tin at least overnight before serving and they actually improve if you keep them for a couple of days before eating.

bream

Marcus Wareing's steamed fish and creamy mushroom and white wine sauce

23:17

lamb

Persian spiced lamb shanks - living in the shank man's paradise

19:54

game

Mallard in red wine, herb and cream sauce

11:01

Wild duck in red wine with parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme

I think mallards are beautiful. The male mallard with its green and blue shiny bits that is. The poor lady mallard is a bit drab. But they look like wonderful mums calmly floating around with the tiny ducklings in a tight little cloud behind them.

There is something sympathetic about these birds although I read somewhere about their mating habits. Not very sympathetic, but we will not delve into that. There's enough evil in the world without waterfowl turning all gangrapey. So I will forget I ever read that.

Mallards look like they've got it all sorted somehow. Calm and philosophical. They're probably just too stupid to realise that they've got nothing sorted. At least if the three ducks we had as pets when I was a kid are anything to go by. Stupid as boots, as we say in Finland.

A thoughtful mallard pondering all manner of things.

I have hundreds of photos of mallards. I am not taking any more lest husband send me to psychiatric care. I had a brief fling with photography and bought a really nice digital SLR and some very expensive lenses. I then put on my camouflage gear and went to the wilderness to stalk some wild animals. So mainly squirrels and mallards in Kensington gardens and Regents Park.

I should actually dig out the SLR, it's probably somewhere with my horse riding gear, roller blades and other relics of abandoned hobbies. I am not a very talented photographer (or horse woman or rollerblade babe). That became clear early on, but it's fun.

This is the first time I have cooked or eaten mallard. Actually not 100% sure of the eating part, mum used to feed us all sorts of things without telling us what we were eating, including the aforementioned clueless pet ducks.

So a few weeks ago a couple of friends were visiting from abroad and whilst they were doing their tea and chocolate shopping at Harrods Food Hall I nipped to the meat counter and bought a mallard and some rabbit legs. More about the legs maybe later depending on how I get on with them.

I resorted to some Finnish recipes that I found online. I also consulted my dad. His father hunted and dad being a bit of a girls blouse hung out with his mum in the kitchen rather than join his dad in more manly pursuits remembered how grandma used to cook wild duck and gave me good advice.

I actually felt a bit sad for the poor little bird. I could see where she'd been shot and a shot ended up in my mouth. Husband being even a bigger wuss was quite turned off by this obvious sadness of the little bird's fate (I don't know if he thinks the chicken and lamb we eat have just peacefully died in their sleep of natural causes), so I'm not sure how much mallard cooking I will do in the future. A shame because it turned out fantastically tender and tasty with the awesome creamy red wine sauce.

Mallard in red wine and cream and herb sauce

Slow cooked mallard in red wine sauce (serves 2)

1 mallard
sea salt
black pepper
1 apple
1 onion
Fresh parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
butter
oil
1/2 cup stock
1/2 cup red wine
1/3 cup single cream
3/4 tbsp flour

Preheat the oven to 175C.

Rinse the bird inside and out carefully. Pat it dry, season with crushed sea salt and black pepper.

Peel and core the apple, peel the onion. Cut both into chunks. Fill the duck with a sprig of rosemary, a few sprigs of thyme and parsley, some sage leaves and the apple and onion chunks. If you haven't been to Scarborough fair recently feel free to go with any herbs of your choice.

Heat a generous knob of butter and a splash of vegetable oil in a dutch oven or similar oven proof lidded pan. Brown the bird on all sides. Pour in the stock and red wine. Bring to boil, add a sprig of rosemary and a frew sprigs of parsley and thyme and a few sage leaves in the sauce.

Cover and place in the oven. Turn and baste the bird every 20 minutes. Bake for 1 1/2 - 2 hours until the meat is tender.

Take the bird out and wrap in foil and leave to rest. Sieve the sauce into a sauce pan and boil it down a little. Mix the cream and flower together and add to sauce pouring it in slowly while continuously mixing the sauce. Cook for about 5 minutes, check the taste and add seasoning if necessary. If too thick, add cream or water. If too thin let it boil uncovered for a few minutes more.

Take the bird from foil. Remove the legs and breasts. Cut the breasts in slices, and serve with the sauce. You can serve the meat and sauce separately. I placed the meat on a serving dish and poured the sauce over it.