There are few things more annoying than waking up hungry on a Saturday morning and discovering that you’ve run out of all things breakfast-worthy. When this happens, I suffer through a few handfuls of B’s cardboardy breakfast cereal while making a quick bread like this one. Occasionally the little organised person in me that’s constantly struggling to get out, manages to be a bit more prepared.

So this weekend, I made some raisin bread. It’s based on a recipe from one of my favourite books and is phenomenal eaten warm straight from the oven. If you have leftovers, the bread is also great toasted, or, taking a little inspiration from classic french toast, I also sandwiched some toasted slices with thick vanilla custard and raspberries. For once, that’s weekend breakfast AND dessert covered.

Raisin Bread :
(based on the fruit loaf recipe in Warm Bread and Honey Cake by Gaitri Pagrach-Chandra)

350g bread flour
1 sachet (7g) dried yeast
2 teaspoons raw sugar
pinch of salt
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 egg
50g soft butter
150g whey or warm milk
120g raisins (or dried fruit of choice)

In the bowl of an electric mixer, mix the sugar, whey (or milk) and yeast. Allow to stand for 5 mins, then add yolk, butter, flour, salt and cinnamon (in that order) and mix on medium speed with the dough hook until the dough is smooth and comes away from the side of the bowl. You can also make the dough by hand if you wish.

Transfer the dough to a medium sized oiled bowl, cover and chill for 2-3 hours or overnight. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured bench, pat/press it into a rectangle, roughly 1cm thick. With the long side facing you, scatter the raisins over the surface of the dough and roll it up, brushing away any excess flour. Place the rolled up dough in a greased loaf tin or on a lined tray. Cover and allow to prove. When the dough has doubled in size, bake in a preheated 200’C oven for 30 mins or until the loaf sounds hollow when tapped.

For the past couple of weeks I’ve been very busy juggling work and planning for a special dinner that finally took place on Monday 27th February.

For those who aren’t familiar with the Toys Collective, it comprises a group of young chefs who originally banded together to promote the new wave of industry peers by means of thematic dinners thrown throughout the year.

When invited to participate in their latest dinner, I initially declined. Having an all-female themed event seemed a bit too gimmicky. Personally, I’ve never felt the need to make any distinction between males and females in commercial kitchens. There is nothing a guy can do in a kitchen that a girl can’t and gender has never been an issue in any place I’ve worked. (This of course doesn’t answer the big question people always ask about why there are so few well known female chefs in our industry. I don’t pretend to know the reason for that, but I have noticed one thing based on people I’ve had the opportunity to work with. Women chefs who succeed do so because they cook not so much with ego but with great inner strength. Whether that means you need a bigger ego to be noticed, or to surpass greatness, I don’t know.)

Mind you I’m also one of those crazies who thinks girls-only “Kitchen Teas” and baby showers are a bit archaic. Which probably explains why I hardly ever get invited to any. So I said no to the dinner. But the line up of those who had already signed on included some people I really wanted to work with, so I ended up saying yes.

And it was a heck of a ride.

Along the way, I also learned a lot about myself. The other pastry girls will deny this now, but once Stockholm Syndrome sets in, I know they’ll miss the many emails I tortured them with during our planning stage. Of course everyone else cares about menu wording, the right kind of mason jar, weight of the cheese course, style of cutlery and exact width of paper being laid on the tables. Of course they do.

The bread which formed part of the first course was developed by Julie. It was a light brioche style pull-apart loaf, that fitted in with the ‘shared table’ brief we were given. Here I’ve adapted the recipe to suit my preferences. One of my personal policies is to always use brown butter where possible. The savoury yeast flakes are completely optional. They boost the umami flavour of the loaf, but you can easily leave them out altogether, or substitute with a spice or some grated cheese. This bread was served alongside bone marrow butter set into bone marrow, crispy pigs heads, a lobster consomme and an edible garden of vegetables, herbs and flowers.

Pull-apart brown butter brioche :
(based on a recipe by Julie Niland)

10g dried yeast
240g skim milk, at room temperature
60g water, at room temperature

570g plain flour
10g sea salt
85g rapadura sugar
2 eggs
150g unsalted butter, diced and at room temperature

for assembly :
4 tablespoons browned butter, melted
2-3 tablespoons savoury yeast flakes (found in health food stores; also known as nutritional yeast flakes)

Combine the yeast with the milk and water in a bowl. Leave aside for 5 minutes.

In the bowl of a stand mixer with the dough hook attached, add the flour, salt and sugar, followed by the yeast mixture and the eggs. Knead until the dough is smooth, then gradually incorporate the diced butter, kneading well between each addition. Once all the butter has been incorporated, stop the mixer, remove the dough and place it in a large, greased bowl. Cover with cling film and chill overnight.

The next day, ease the dough out of the bowl. Dust the bench top lightly with flour and roll the dough out into a long rectangle about 1cm thick. Brush the dough with browned butter and sprinkle with the yeast flakes. Cut the dough into thirds lengthways. Stack the strips of dough together. Cut down the stacked dough to create smaller stacks of dough that are roughly 3/4 the height of a 9 1/2 inch x 5 1/2 inch loaf tin. There’s a good pictorial explanation of how to create this pull-apart effect here. Arrange the small stacks in the greased tin. Cover loosely with cling film and allow to prove until doubled in size.

Preheat the oven to 195’C. Brush the top of the loaf with egg wash and bake for 15 minutes, then for a further 15 minutes at 175’C.

When life gives you quinces, make quince crumble cake.

It is for those days that rush by too fast. When seasons turn from singlet tops and insects thumping angrily at the screen door, to leaves tumbling onto wet pavements, the scent of wool scarves, the whirr of the stand mixer, the hum of the oven, and suddenly.. quince crumble cake.

It is also for one of those days. We’ve all had them. Usually a cup of tea, a heat pack around my neck and a little grumble to B, sets things straight. Failing that, I call upon ‘the army’.

There are millions of recipes out there for all sorts of simple cakes and breads. I guess the ones I use are no different, but they are so reliable and so delicious that I now consider them part of my personal army. My army battles against such days that defeat and exhaust. I’ve been experiencing many such days recently, and have gratefully discovered that it’s quite soothing to be able to make something simple not only for myself, but to share with others as well.

The quince crumble cake is my version of Rose Levy Beranbaum’s “apple-cinnamon crumb coffee cake”. I substituted some ingredients and modified the instructions, to simplify the cobbling together of the cake batter. Using my method, the fruit will sink into the cake but I’m okay with that. The heap of crumble on top is a textural delight.

The soda bread recipe, which has now become my daily bread, is by Fergus Henderson. No changes there; it’s as simple as it gets. The (gluten-free) chocolate chestnut cake is from Nigella Lawson’s How to be a Domestic Goddess.

Below are two of the recipes that I hope will find a home within your own army.

Quince and Walnut Crumble Cake :

For the cinnamon crumble :
100g walnut halves
72g light brown sugar
25g caster sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon
65g plain flour
57g unsalted butter, melted

Place all the dry ingredients in a bowl. Add the butter and rub it in or toss through to form a crumbly mixture (use your fingers to break any of the larger pieces of walnut into smaller chunks). Set aside.

For the cake :

6 quinces halves, slow cooked in a 60% sugar syrup solution flavoured with vanilla, lemon zest and cinnamon, drained and sliced or chopped into small chunks (or fresh fruit of choice)
2 large eggs, at room temperature
100g + 60g Greek/European-style yogurt
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
200g plain flour
170g caster sugar
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
170g unsalted butter, softened

Preheat the oven to 175’C.

In a small bowl, combine the eggs, 60g yogurt and vanilla.

In a stand mixer fitted with the flat beater, add the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Add the butter and 100g yogurt. Mix on low until dry ingredients are moistened, then mix on medium speed for 1 1/2 minutes. Lower the speed and gradually add the egg mixture. Scrape down the sides of the bowl then beat for 30 seconds to fully incorporate all the ingredients.

Spread the batter into a greased and lined 22cm tin. Top with slices of the cooked quince, then the crumble. Bake for about 50 – 60 minutes. A skewer inserted into the cake should come out clean. At about the 30 minute mark, you may want to rotate the cake pan for even browning. At this point if the crumble appears to be browning too quickly, you can also cover the top of the pan with some foil and continue baking.

Soda Bread :
(From Beyond Nose to Tail by Fergus Henderson and Justin Piers Gellatly)

140g wholemeal self-raising flour
140g strong white flour
5g sea salt
10g caster sugar
5g baking powder
125ml water
125ml buttermilk

Mix all the ingredients together by hand in a large mixing bowl (it will be quite wet), then leave the dough to rest in the bowl for 5 minutes.

Shape the dough into a ball and place on a floured baking tray. Sprinkle with flour and cut a cross in the top about 4cm long on each side and 1cm deep. Leave to rest for 10 minutes, then place in an oven preheated to 200’C. Bake for 40 minutes, until golden brown. To test if the loaf is done, turn it over and tap it on the bottom with your finger; if it sounds hollow it is ready. Leave to cool on a wire rack. Serve with plenty of butter.