thepassionatecook

Making sushi: with shinmai ("new" rice) from Japan via EBBP3

After the trials and tribulations I have gone through over the past weeks to finally obtain the parcel Makiko (I was just really very hungry) sent me in the latest round of EBBP3, all the anticipation finally got the better of me today. Maki is Japanese, but lives in Switzerland, and it's precisely this unusual combination of cultures and therefore culinary backgrounds that was too intriguing for me to ignore when I had to decide who should send me my parcel.
When I finally opened the box, I discovered 2 packs of Nori seaweed, 1 bottle of rice vinegar (which mysteriously had remained intact), 2 packets of shinmai (see below), 3 dashi teabags (see below) and 1 jar almost caramelised apple preserve. Fantastic! I am a bit of a sushi addict and have always struggled in London because there are so many mediocre sushi bars... so I've long wanted to make my own sushi, Maki must have a sixth sense!
Alongside the carefully typed-out instructions for preparing the rice came a bit of background on the ingredients. Shinmai is a very special type of sushi rice - it's "new" rice, and like our new potatoes this means that it's only been harvested just this autumn. It's not available outside of Japan, so I count myself very lucky, indeed. Dashi is the stock used to prepare sushi rice - Maki didn't say what it was made of, but it has a fishy smell and wikipedia says it's made of kelp (seaweed) and tuna.
Now, did it make a difference, you will ask? Does it taste any better than your regular sushi rice? You bet! (Especially if all you know is the sushi you pick up from M&S or Pret for your lunch).
I realised that the rice was very special right from the moment I first touched it. It's difficult to describe, but you sort of felt that it was very young and hadn't been drying out for years and years. This might not make any sense to you, but it felt like it was less hard than your normal sushi rice and it definitely was softer to the touch, sort of rounder as if it hadn't been bashed about as much yet. I normally hate washing my rice, but this time I didn't mind my fingers freezing as it was such a joy to play around with those ricecorns which were so smooth as if they had been individually sandpapered to perfection.
Put on the spot, I would probably have guessed that you cook sushi rice in salt water. Not so. It's actually cooked in stock (dashi). The flavour of this rice was sublime, miles above everything I'd had before, not overpowering despite the fish content, and I could have eaten the whole pot on its own, it was that good!
The line-up of sushi I attempted to make reads as follows:
- Salmon maki
- Cucumber maki
- Salmon nigiri
- Philly, smoked salmon & chive maki
- Ocean Park maki

The last two are maki I've discovered quite recently, when stumbling across a fabulous sushi place not far from where I work (Bento Café, 9 Parkway, Camden, London NW1 7PG, Tel: 020-7482 3990). All these years of searching for good sushi was finally rewarded! One is made with philadelphia cream cheese and smoked salmon (I also added some chives), the other is perfect indulgence with prawns, green asparagus, lumpfish caviar, chilli mayo and tiny morsels of crispy tempura batter. I just love this because it's such an interesting combination of textures and the chilli mayo probably sound strange, but it works really well when used with moderation.
And while I was preparing maki and nigiri for the first time in my life, I suddenly realised just how difficult this is. Having long thought that piling up rice et al. on a piece of seaweed and rolling it with the help of a bamboo mat couldn't be that tricky, but I now understand why sushi chefs have to train for 4 years, I will never complain about the price of sushi ever again nor will I moan when my food is slow to arrive - it's a tricky business, an absolute art form, and if it wasn't for Makiko's incredible rice which is soooo much better than anything I've tasted before, I could do without the hassle of preparing it all... or maybe it just takes some practice, as all good things in life do!

Jerusalem artichoke risotto with seared scallops

They're back. And they're back with a vengeance. After last year's kick-start to being the newest food fad in town, jerusalem artichokes are back for another season... good on them! You see them in recipes all over the country, every magazine has them, no celebrity chef can be without using them in at least one episode per season and even the neighbourhood restaurants have discovered them. Well, some have. Hopefully we'll be spared jerusalem artichoke curries altogether, and I doubt that fried slices of topinambour (as its called in French and German) will become an integral part of the British fry-up.
The simple fact that jerusalem artichokes are not confined to market stalls and specialist mail order shops anymore, but available in every better supermarket nowadays, speaks volumes for the re-discovery of this most earthy and wintery of vegetables. About time, I say. I felt it had suffered discrimination for too long - true, it's an ugly little fellow if smooth, washed-out skin and equal dimensions in every specimen is a criterion of beauty... I mean, if you've never had a lychee before, you're likely to fall for its interesting shell, the shiny smoothness of the interior of the fruit and the most silky perfection of the pit... but the mean sunchoke? Its bumpy, hairy aspect is definitely not the most attractive to an undiscerning shopper, it's quite obviously difficult to clean and hard to peel. But even if you pick it up and smell it, it's not likely to win you over, as it only develops its beautiful nutty flavour and smooth silken texture when cooked or baked.
After playing around with creamy JA soups for a while last year (and discovering that they're better left unpeeled in any preparation for a more intense flavour), I've been more adventurous this time round: I've added them to a gratin dauphinois which gave this most classic of dishes a very interesting dimension indeed, and a few weeks ago, I decided to try another one of Gordon Ramsay's recipes - and absolutely loved it. This dish has a very unusual combination of flavours and textures - the nuttiness and richness of the jerusalem artichoke risotto is offset somewhat by the sherry vinegar, the caramelised goodness of which going very well with the pan-seared scallops. Another perfect dish from a very talented and inspired chef...
PS: for the vegetarians amongst you: this is just as good without the scallops - try pan-roasting some cubes or thick slices of jerusalem artichokes instead to add a bit of drama if you'd like...

Scallop carpaccio à la Robuchon

Oh yes, I do realise that I still owe you a review of L'Atelier de Joel Robuchon where we had a most fantastic lunch on our recent trip to Paris... maybe in the hope that, until I blog about it, the great aftertaste will keep on tickling my tastebuds, reminding me of what a fabulous meal we had that cold, sunny day in December.
There's nothing wrong with feeling inspired, though, and trying to recreate some of what we had there... the day after we got back, I happened to find these marvellous oblong dishes (irresistibly cheap at Tesco's). And I confess I sinned. Let me explain:
Since we're going to be moving in about a months' time, I made a promise not to buy any new things until then, rather throw away a plethora of kitchen utensils that I once thought indispensible, but haven't used since then - but I saw these beauties, inspected them longingly and before I knew it, they were in my shopping trolley already.
Given that I hadn't even managed to stick to my promise for much more than a week, the least I could do was prove that they were something I'd be using often... this is the second time I bring them out in two months, so at the moment, they score much better than the pasta machine, the breadmaker, the "lean mean grilling machine", the egg poacher and the selection of retired mugs collected on travels near and far, which I kept just in case we had more people round than proper mugs (we have 16 of those, though, so are unlikely to ever run out!)... so maybe, just maybe, those long plates will accompany us into our new abode.
The scallop carpaccio we had was marvellous - melt-in-the-mouth slivers of a whiter than white mollusc, drizzled with French olive oil (which, in my opinion, is the very best in the world) and  lemon juice, scattered with spring onion and poppyseeds. That's what I love about Robuchon's cooking - it's so simple, using the best ingredients you can get, not fussing about with them and letting the individual flavours all play up their strengths. Sigh! But if that was his only secret, we'd all be famous chefs by now...

Mushroom frittata bites

This must be one of the easiest canapés to prepare: you can make it well in advance, you can serve it at any temperature and presented well, it will get a lot of attention. The best thing is that you can play around with various ingredients and make it different every time: leek & smoked salmon for a lazy Sunday brunch, courgette & onion as a refreshing starter, goats' cheese & sundried tomato for a summer picnic... I could go on and on.
Frittata is an Italian dish, it means "fried" and is an egg dish which carries a lot of resemblance to the Spanish tortilla. The main difference between the two is that a tortilla is usually prepared in the pan only, whereas a frittata is often finished off by baking it in the oven. The egg mixture also tends to be more prominent in a frittata than in a tortilla, where the egg is really just used to hold the vegetables together.
This recipe calls for baking only - which is great, as the preparation is minimal and you can get on with other things while it cooks to perfection. If serving this at a cocktail party, try putting bite-sized pieces on individual forks or arrange them nicely on a plate with toothpicks and a horseradish crème fraîche to dip them in. And if you're looking for a quick dinner, just bake it in a quiche mould or springform tin, cut it into wedges and serve it with a salad on the side... there's nothing wrong with making a meal of a perfectly comforting thing!

Paris restaurant: Georges - top cuisine (not just) for lovers of modern art

When Georges was first recommended to me, I really wasn't sure about this at all. I have been to so many museums in my lifetime and, in need for some sustenance after 5 hours of wandering around (or 3 days, as may be the case in places like the Louvre), resorted to the unthinkable: have lunch in the cafeteria/bar. Invariably, you've got a choice of a dried-out tuna sandwich with a microscopic salad leaf, a helping from a massive soup pot which sports a combination of what had been the "soupe du jour" over the preceding week (who said chorizo, mushroom, pea, haddock and roast red pepper don't go together???) and (if you're ueber-lucky) a bowl of half-wilted salad leaves and chewy, reconstituted chicken-bites without any dressing, accompanied by a brick of a bread roll. Could it really be that this place was different, recommended as a restaurant in its own right, rather than an above-average standard of snacks?
We were very pleasantly surprised with Georges, however. But then, that's because it's not a cafeteria, it's a restaurant in its own right. Located on the very top floor of the Centre Pompidou, with stunning views around town, it was meant to be more than just catering for pit stops in between exhibitions. Since its opening in 2000, it has quickly become a Paris hotspot, drawing crowds of art lovers with a good-sized wallet during the day and in the evening, a colourful crowd of suits, wanna-be models and people who come just for the food (I mean, how odd is that? ;-))
I have to admit it is a real stunner - from the escalators to the entrance, all you can admire is the dramatic setting. After checking your reflection in the black roof-top pool, you come to realise that the views are one thing, but the interior has a lot to say for itself, too. Massive silver-coated amorphous structures, sometimes referred to as ‘blobular aluminum shells’, dominate the scene and are used to create a feeling of intimacy for the tables located in their bright-coloured insides. The setup is very slick and modern - frosted glass tables with a single rose towering 30cm above your head - and so are the staff, boy-oh-boy are they gorgeous, definitely tough competition for all the rich and beautiful clientèle!
The menu is adventurous and cosmopolitan, Thierry Costes (son of celebrity-chef Gilbert Costes) is at the helm of it all and has selected and exciting and unexpected array of dishes - you'll find a foie gras alongside nems and scallop carpaccio, a good selection of vegetarian options (not the easiest to find in Paris, although this is slowly changing) with sautéed mushrooms, soups and various salads. I believe there might be a different, more extensive menu for dinner as well.
We shared a starter of nems (Vietnamese spring rolls) which, to my surprise, had been deep-fried - they were served with their nuoc cham (dipping sauce with soy and chilli) and a glass stuffed with gem lettuce leaves and mint to wrap the nems in. Very nice.
Chris had the afore-mentioned sautéed girolles with a drizzle of garlic cream, simple but effective. I then continued with a carpaccio of scallop where the scallops had been wrapped in a thin slice of fresh salmon before cutting them wafer-thin - again, simply drizzled with lemon juice and olive oil, decorated with a chive... voilà!
Looking around us, we realised that there was an odd mix of French people who'll have a proper lunch, wine and all, whereever they go, and quite a few tables with tourists who'd probably come in expecting cafeteria-style prices but where too embarrassed to leave after studying the menu... invariably, they would opt for the club sandwich, which, at eleven Euro, is one of the cheapest options on the menu and a safe bet if you've come with a big appetite, but a tight budget.
Apparently, you must book if you want to come for dinner and it doesn't surprise me: it's hip, it's happening and it must have the most romantic views at night - I'm definitely coming back on a summer evening one day and book a table outside on the roof terrace... if I weren't already hopelessly in love with Paris, this is where a "coup de foudre" is invitable!

Georges
Centre Pompidou, 6th floor
19, rue Beaubourg
75004 Paris
France
Tel: +33-(0)1 44 78 47 99

Gorgonzola, rocket & pear risotto

Now that Zsofi of Chili & Vanilia has received the parcel I sent her for the 3rd round of Euro-Blogging By Post, I can safely write about that comforting risotto I made myself the other day. Now, risotto is always good for controversy: people get very passionate about just how much they like their rice cooked, how runny it should be, not to speak of which type of rice to use and what kind of risotto is the best! I usually use vialone nano as my rice, only because I read somewhere that it's the best you can get. Except for the shape (it's rounder than carnaroli), I don't really see much of a difference to other risotto rices, but then, I have also never done a cross-testing...
Risotto is definitely one of the most versatile dishes around and probably the most comforting - it's just a bit unfortunate that it has also become a bit of a food fad around here and every restaurant seems to offer it... I have stopped ordering risotto when eating out, mainly because too many chefs get it wrong. Most of the time you'll get re-heated, dried out mush that tastes of absolutely nothing, and you get the impression that they just use left-over rice from other dishes and stir in whatever they have available in the kitchen. That's just sooo wrong!
Good risotto needs time and a lot of loving. If you can't give it your undivided attention, don't bother making it! It's the gradual addition of ingredients, the stirring and waiting until the liquid has been absorbed before pouring the next ladle in that makes all the difference.
And as a testament to the fact that risotto is my favourite comfort food, here are some links to favourite recipes to prove that there's a risotto for every season:
Spring: (Green) Asparagus risotto
Summer: Seafood risotto
Autumn: Chestnut risotto in kabocha squash
Winter: Gorgonzola & pear risotto (recipe below)

So when I had to send my parcel to Zsofi this month, I decided to try something new. For obvious reasons, I couldn't send any fresh ingredients and I thought a cep mushroom risotto would be a bit boring, so I decided to come up with a recipe using things I had at home: blue cheese, rocket and bite-sized pieces of pear... and it turned out to be a delicious combination of flavours! Zsofi seems to have liked the recipe too and has already blogged about it. And her picture is definitely more appealing than mine!

Euro-Blogging By Post 3 - The round-up

First of all, an apology. Not only have I spent the last two months calling something by a wrong name entirely (yes, it is Euro-Blogging By POST, not mail), but I have also managed to send everyone the details of their EBBP-partners using every possible combination of E, B and P in the subject line, interspersed with a few letters that don't even feature in the name of this great blogging initiative... but it was very, very late one night in early Jan and I blame a duely celebrated NY's, a two-week stint with parents and other relatives in the house and that other thing I don't want to talk about.
However, even though they didn't know quite what they were letting themselves into, an unsurpassed number of bloggers (32) agreed to participate in this month's EMBB, EMBP, EMBM, EBPP and EBBM respectively, probably wondering what the h*** thepassionatecook was smoking - nothing, I assure you, yet I did manage not to get the acronym right a single time!
Undeterred, the bloggers spent a week baking, cooking, buying, wrapping, writing, mailing and posting and as far as I can see, most of the parcels seems to be on their way... some of them have even reached their destination already. And unless some of us got a nasty blow at the post office, and, confronted with a £15-bill for postage, decided to take their blog down and hide away in a cave to enjoy the delicacies they thoughtfully put together alone, without throwing a fortune down the treasurer's throat... then the rest of us should receive their goodies soon.

This post will keep track of who's received their parcels (in chronological order) and what they had to say about it, so keep your emails and URLs coming in! (NB: Sometimes a parcel may arrive, but a post only happen a little later, busy bees that we are, so keep checking back in for updates...)

Kristina of Clivias Cuisine (Sweden) beat everybody to the chase with her parcel from Cecile (UK). Coincidentally, her parcel contained the February issue of OLIVE, the Bristish food magazine, containing and article about the "5 best foodblogs" - and I was very flattered to find my thepassionatecook on the list! Her write-up here.

Cecile (UK) of English Patis, in turn, received her parcel from Dagmar (Sweden also) a day later.
Contents revealed here.

Dagmar (SE) of A Cat in the Kitchen was rewarded for it and collected her parcel from Anna (UK) on the same day.
Sneak a peak.

Next up was Lilian (Ireland) of iFaNTaBuLouS. She was treated by Taina (Netherlands) and we can't wait to read her post. 

Zsofi (Belgium) of Chili & Vanilia was apparently very happy with a goodies box from me (UK).
So happy that she decided to post in English instead of Hungarian for the benefit of us all!

Ilva (IT) of Lucullian Delights was treated to a Mexican feast by Melissa (UK). Read more about how her life was spiced up a notch this morning...

Pille (UK) of Nami-Nami was busy baking apple cake when the postman rang twice. Her write-up of the parcel she received from Shalimar (GR) is to be found here!

Moira (UK) fo Who Wants Seconds? happily collected her parcel from Ilva (IT)... resisting the temptation to finish the bottle of limoncello it contained immediately, she is blogging about her goodies here!

Taina (NL) of Sticky Spoons has received her goodies packed up by Vivian (UK). She will blog about it soon.

Ivano (IT) of Adventure Chef was quick to write a post about the package he received from Andrew (UK) this weekend - and was apparently (from what I can gather with my broken Italian) especially pleased with the home-made muffins!

Fini (ES) of Cocinalia is very happy with a box full of chocolates and other goodies (including a gorgeous-looking wooden butterknife!) she got from Pille (UK). If you want to brush up your Spanish, read her post.

Angelika (AT) of The flying Apple started her week on a high when she received Anne's (SE) parcel - and reveals everything here.

Cindy (FR) of Cindy's Kitchen may be full of delicious cakes, but there was room and appetite left for the parcel she got from Lilian (IE)... post in the (b)making!

Makiko (CH) of I was just really very hungry will be stilling her hunger with all the goodies she got from Joanna (UK). She's sharing it with us here!

Andrew (UK) of spittonextra has finally collected his chocolatey treats from Cindy (FR) at the post office - and blogs about it here after baking some cookies with the contents of his box.

Anna (UK) of Baking for Britain was blessed with a parcel from Nicky (DE) and was so impressed that she blogged about it immediately!

Nicky (DE) of delicious days had to brave not only wind and weather (and temparatures below zero, may I add), but also grumpier-than-life postal workers to pick up her share. But she's enjoying her parcel lovingly put together by Moira (UK) as we can read here.

Jeanne (UK) of Cooksister! blogs about her parcel from Pascale (FR) here. A bowl of pasta and pesto, followed by some chocolate, truly make the world go round!

And Viv (UK) of A Life in Food received her parcel from Jeanne (UK)upon her return from the US - and now that she's unpacked those suitcases, she's revealing a host of South African goodies in her post!

Meg (FR) of Too Many Chefs had some help unveiling the contents of her bright yellow box from Angelika (AT), but managed to keep most of the goodies for herself...

I (UK) finally received a wonderful parcel from Maki (CH) last week, but had to wait until now to blog about it, since it involved getting creative with the ingredients... read my post here.

Carolyn (US) of 18th-century cuisine received her parcel from Chiara (IT) only on the second attempt... but was very quick to blog about it.

After lots of weeks of impatient waiting, Pascale (FR) of C'est moi qui l'ai fait was finally re-united with her parcel from Kristina (SE). I'm sure her post will be up in a matter of days...

And when we thought all hope was gone, Anne (SE) of Anne's Food received her parcel from Meg (FR). Having recovered from the loss of some French cheese which wasn't as patient as she was, Anne shares her experience with all of us.

Please remember to let me know when you receive your parcel and also send me a link when you get round to blogging about it! Thanks.

If any of you have sent a parcel and it hasn't arrived yet, let me know in case you've got a tracking code or anything else that I could pass on to the addressee for them to contact their local post office...

Paris restaurant: Guy Savoy

For the past 6 years or so, my husband and I have done all we could to avoid anything with "Savoy" in the name. I am sure that our terrible experience at one of the top hotels in Madeira could have been avoided if we'd just done some research before booking a week's holiday in a delapidated 5* hotel, spending a (compulsory) New Year's Eve dinner (at a whopping £75 each) with English pensioners in their hundreds (in terms of the numbers present AND their average age), but our second encounter, with what once was once the London Savoy's foremost chef at that infamous wine tasting cum gourmet dinner still has a very bad aftertaste, even though it's been over a year.
Biting the bullet to please thepassionatecook and theevenmorepassionateeater, Chris went through a lot of effort to book a table at Guy Savoy - postponing the weekend twice until finally both the restaurant and the hotel of his choice could accommodate us, and it was definitely worth all the sweat.
Although it's one of Paris' top tables and sports the prestigous 4 Gault Millau toques (19/20 points, if you need the detail), Guy Savoy is a remarkably unstuffy restaurant. None of the 17th/18th century pomp you find at Alain Ducasse's Monaco branch or the stucco-laden ceilings and elaborately wood-panelled walls at other expensive etablissements in Paris (and which would add a touch of grandeur to any meal) - this is an altogether different affair.
The décor is rather clean-cut, though not cold - dark wood, extensive use of dark red make it more sensuous than you might think, and a very clever concept behind it: most of the walls move, so the space can be tailored to the demands of the day. Groups can easily be accomodated in their own, private dining room and in the regular set-up, I didn't see any room (or "compartment", if you wish) with more than 4 tables - making for a very intimate atmosphere, I thought, almost like being in your own dining room.
But on to more important things! The food was simply perfect. Whenever I go to places like that, I don't really need to look at the menu. Well, I usually have a look just to see what's there, only to end up going for the "menu dégustation", allowing us to sample a great variety of what the kitchen does best. In this case, 11 courses in succession (and that's not counting the various "clins d'oeil" or "greetings from the kitchen" plus, let's not forget, the selection from the dessert trolley on top of our 3 dessert courses... but who can resist mousse au chocolat, crème caramel and the like, especially when spooned out of clip-top jars?).
Every single dish we had was cooked to perfection. The very best ingredients, prepared by assured hands. They're not venturing too far, nothing is too risqué, you can see that it's an establishment that serves the rich and beautiful, but not necessarily over-adventurous eaters. No bacon & egg ice cream, no snail porridge... but definitely not run-with-the-mill food either.
There are unusual pairings like in the pineapple & avocado sorbet, the caramelised red pepper tuile with your lobster ceviche or, indeed, a savoury crème anglaise and a layer of spinach accompanying the most luxurious caviar. But he's playing it safe, I think, he's not doing it to impress or to shock, he does it because he know it works. Amongst those dishes that completely bowled us over were the afore-mentioned "colours of caviar", the lobster cooked/uncooked (ceviche and cooked tails, served with the red pepper tuile and especially a course of foie gras... I am a sucker for foie gras, when consumed in managable portions. I like it seared, I like it as a paté, and have mostly eaten it the traditional way, served with toasted brioche and some sort of fruit confit - figs, pears, pineapple, mango... the list goes on. This is the first time I've had it savoury, and of an outstanding quality as well. It was served seared, in a bowl with some jerusalem artichoke purée gently wrapped in savoy cabbage, with a most delicious red cabbage reduction on the bottom - unusual, amazing and nothing short of perfect.
In a nutshell: we had a great evening. Perfect food in very pleasant surroundings - and company! (Roberto Benigni ("Life is Beautiful") literally bumped into Chris when he was coming out of the restrooms.) Although not something I would (or could) afford to do every day - £600 for an evening à deux is a very rare and special treat - I definitely think that we got our money's worth. After 4 hours of eating and drinking, I rolled back to the hotel, no, hang on, I must have been crawling. Our hotel was no more than 10 minutes from the restaurant on a scenic walk involving the Arc de Triomphe, but we took at least 30 minutes to walk back - and not because we were admiring the views!
The name Savoy is finally cleared in our books... and all it took was one dinner!

Guy Savoy
18 rue Troyon
75017 Paris
France
Tel: +33-(0)1-43804061
PS: Watch this space for more affordable dining in Paris - I'll shortly be writing about Georges, Mon Vieil Ami and L'Atelier de Joel Robuchon!

Choco-mocca liqueur

So, where was I? I believe the last time I posted, I was talking about a fabulous meeting with the happy bunch that are the foodbloggers of this country and I was full of promises for my famous (or should that read infamous?) choco-mocca liqueur. Since then, I have received a lot of emails asking for the recipe, so without further ado...
This comes out of my little treasure chest of delicacies I encountered while living in Mexico - if you thought tequila and tacos were the only culinary highlights ever originating from that glorious country, then you're wrong. If it wasn't for the Aztecs, we would still be eating onions instead of potatoes as our staple diet, we'd never have encountered the delicacy that is a perfectly ripe avocado (in all shapes and formats) and, I shiver at the thought, we could never have indulged in chocolate!
The origins of this choco-mocca liqueur probably lie whereever Kalhua took its inspiration from, but I assure you it couldn't be more different if it tried. It's actually closer to Bailey's, but like so many home-made things, much more delectable! It also combines a lot of flavours I fell in love with in Mexico: coffee infused with spices (the Mexican "café de olla", a coffee prepared by simmering ground coffee with cinnamon, cloves and other spices and served in a clay mug), condensed milk (I have a secret love affair with the traditional Mexican flan which most people nowadays prepare with "Leche Nestlé", as it is commonly known there) and cocoa.
Over the years, I have been tinkering with a recipe in a cookbook I've long recycled and forgotten the name of, added this, some more of that and left out the other - but the biggest difference is that I am not using the brandy the original calls for, but some whisky (rather cheap, but keep that a secret!). And in all its various incarnations over this period of refinement, it has served well as a Christmas gift to many a friend and relative and has rounded up dozens of happy, boozy seasonal celebrations like the one we enjoyed the other day...