thepassionatecook

Buchteln mit Vanillesauce (Sweet dumplings with crème anglaise)

If it wasn't for this round of "Waiter! There's something in my...", I would be one thing short on my list of ways to spoil my husband rotten. You should think that after almost twenty years of knowing him, I'd have a rather good grasp of what he does and does not like, but that couldn't be further from the truth, it appears. In the past few weeks, there have been two occasions where he expressed his undying love, unfortunately not to me, at least not directly. The present dish, which constitutes my entry to this month's edition with the theme of "hot puds", is apparently one of his absolute favourite Austrian desserts - and that is something special, seeing that Austria is dessert heaven and the sheer variety of sweet options is, I think, unsurpassable.

Buchteln are made all year round and unlike many other traditional dishes which are available in countless variations, these are served pretty much the same all over the country. As many of our desserts, they have their roots in Bohemian cuisine. They are oven-baked dumplings, made from a yeast dough, sometimes served plain, but more often than not filled with Powidl, an incredibly thick plum jam. They can be eaten cold, but I prefer them straight from the oven, when they are still fluffy as a goose down pillow, and the best way to enjoy them is with a piping-hot vanilla custard, home-made of course.

If you wanted to sample this delicacy on a trip to Austria, you'd probably have a hard time finding them on a menu - they're something that is made at home, and at home only. The only famous exception is the Café Hawelka in Vienna, a quirky home-style coffee house near St. Stephan's Cathedral, which over the decades has attracted many writers, artists and great thinkers, among them Nobel-prize winner Elias Canetti, HC Artmann, Oskar Werner and Andre Heller, known for his performance art lately showcased in the show Africa Africa which is still touring the globe. Is probably fair to say that this is the closest Vienna comes to a bohemian hang-out. No surprise then that they should serve the ultimate Bohemian dessert... but wait. They don't just serve them. Punters hang out here a whole evening long, knowing that smack bang at 10 pm the kitchen doors will swing open and out will come a massive pan of steaming hot yeast dumplings - and they'll literally be gone within minutes.

The Café itself attracts an illustrious crowd and the owner himself, charming and quite a character, has been the life and soul of this place ever since it re-opened in post-war Vienna - so the Café Hawelka has become a crowd-puller and its Buchteln the most famous of them all... although some argue that since the passing away of Mme Hawelka in 2005 they don't taste like they used to. Tourists rarely find their way here and it may lack the grandeur of many other Viennese coffee houses, but the Café Hawelka is very much a well-kept secret and (or maybe because of this very fact) it is one of my favourite places to be in Vienna. Especially at 10 o'clock at night...

And if you've just gotten in the mood and want to share your own, favourite hot dessert, why not send me your post - I am attempting to publish the round-up in the next week, so you've got a few days....

Monkfish fillets on butternut squash with herbed walnuts

This is one of those episodes where I was completely doubting what I was doing in the kitchen and therefore didn't even bother making notes other than scribbling onto the magazine in front of me... I almost didn't take a picture either which would have been a massive mistake because you really ought to know about this dish. Has this ever happened to you? You see a picture in a food magazine or cookbook, like the looks of it, don't have the time to read the recipe or really think about it and then as you cook and get more intimate with the ingredients (ones you are not very familiar with or that you have not yet used in combination), suddenly you're almost stricken with fear... fear of the dish ending in an absolute disaster, being inedible, a horrible, tasteless slush of things that wouldn't want to be eaten together if you paid them a million dollars... and yet you had all intentions of making an effort and having a nice special meal with a really special someone only to end it all in tears. And then you take your first bite and you shake your head in disbelief, thinking how lucky you are that you averted a culinary disaster. And with every bite you fall in love with it more. And by the end of it you think it's the best thing since sliced bread. (I am not talking about Hovis with margarine, but a slice of freshly baked, crusty sourdough with a generous smear of butter studded with crunchy fleur de sel. And maybe a scattering of wild garlic or chopped chives). Been there? Done that?

Well, I had such a moment last week. My Mum had brought the last edition of an Austrian food magazine (that changes its name so often I can't be bothered to keep up-to-date with the re-echristenings anymore... at this moment in time, it's called "Wienerin. Food & Style", December 2008. It has to be said that despite all their relaunches they have kept one constant: their food stylist Gabriele Halper and photographer Luzia Ellert who is an absolute genius in my opinion) and I have mentioned before how you'd get one edition of this quarterly and you cook it back to front, then in the next edition, you'd be hard-pressed to find a single recipe that tickles your taste buds. This edition is love at second sight, my Mum almost didn't bring it because she saw nothing in it, I had to leaf through it twice, but did find quite a selection of dishes in the end that I'd like to try (or bastardise, as the case may be).

The recipe I based this present dish on was by a certain Joerg Domansky who rose to fame at one of Vienna's elite Italians, Cantinetta Antinori. He now cooks at Procacci, a restaurant I hadn't heard of until recently but am very tempted to visit next time I am in Vienna. It combines monkfish fillets slowly poached in olive oil with a creamy squash purée, a combination that my kitchen hasn't seen before, but the stroke of genius comes with the topping: chopped pecans (walnuts in the original), simply dressed with some lemon juice and parsley. I don't quite know how, but this combination of buttery purée with the zingy crunch of the nuts absolutely hit my spot. I hope it touches you in the same way.

And here's a little reminder to kindly join us for the latest edition of "Waiter, there's something in my..." where the theme is "Hot puds". The deadline is the end of this month, there's a phantastic prize to be won and all the details surrounding participation can be found here.

"Waiter! There's something in my..." theme for February!

While Jeanne is busy compiling the round-up for the latest round of WTSIM, I thought I'd better announce the next theme fast, seeing that February is a really short month!

I am in an indulging mood at the moment, never mind the economic climate, and you don't always need lobster and foie gras to make you fool comforted and indulged, do you? In fact, some of the cheapest dishes can be made just with a little bit of flour, sugar, milk and an egg or two. My native Austria is dessert (Mehlspeisen) heaven, so I thought we could play with this idea a little.

Our theme for February will be "hot puds" (pud being short for pudding, signifying "dessert" in Britain). Anything goes, as long a it's sweet and served hot. Crèpes Suzette, self-saucing puddings, sweet dumplings, fruit fritters, you can be as creative as you like. If you can, I'd appreciate something that reflects your country of origin and a little background story to go with it, but that would just be an optional bonus.

And to give you even more reason to participate, there will be a fabulous prize this time, courtesy of publisher DK. They have kindly donated two books by the very successful cookery writer Mary Berry "Traditional Puddings and Desserts" and "Supper for Friends", both retailing for £12.99 and containing brilliantly easy, yet impressive dishes like Goats Cheese Souffles and Pineapple Upside-down Cake. And as I couldn't possibly be asked to choose my favourite out of all the wonderful creations you are going to come up with, the prize will be allocated by draw out of a hat (or mixing bowl, more appropriately). How's that for an incentive?

Send your entries to by 28th of February, detailing your name, location, blog's name, name of your creation and, if it cannot be easily copied from your site, a picture in jpg format.

Let not the economic climate depress you, be as decadent as you can with some comforting, feel-good desserts. It needn't cost the earth, but it'll certainly lift your mood!

Foie gras and pear compote crème brulée spoons - a contribution to WTSIM!

Aren't food blogging events a wonderful thing? Despite the fact that with the sky-rocketing number of foodblogs, there is an ever-increasing number of events being hosted, I always find one that pushes the boat out a bit and challenges me to try something new. Jeanne's recent call to do a sweet/savoury swap for January's WTSIM, ie create a savoury version of a dish that is normally sweet or vice-versa, was one such event. Although many dishes like that have been permeating restaurant menus around the globe (the Fat Duck's snail porridge being a prolific example, but things like cheese soufflés have become very popular over the last few years), this way of turning a dish on its head is far more difficult than one might think. Believe me, I have tried some pretty horrific attempts in top-notch restaurants over the years, one that still makes me gag is Angela Hartnett's attempt of a chocolate soup - no wonder The Connaught is not under her helm anymore.

As I was tossing and turning ideas to challenge established taste experiences, I found myself wondering about the inherent qualities of sweet and savoury and found that, indeed, some traditional ways of cooking cannot be reversed effectively. Aforementioned chocolate soup was lacking the creaminess we connect with chocolate, for example, and was therefore tasting bland and quite odd. Like chocolate custard powder mixed into cold water. Many sweet dishes like custard are not that easily married with vegetables (although a baked jerusalem artichoke cheesecake was one of the things I'd considered giving a try). I had a baked potato chocolate tart at Hibiscus not long ago and felt that, flavours aside, the consistency put me off - it's like your taste buds scream "chocolate", but your tongue feels like it's eating potato mash... sending my brain into a somewhat schizophrenic state I could only bear for a couple of mouthfuls. I am not usually one to push a plate full of dessert away from me, but my fellow diners couldn't help but do the same.

With these past experiences in mind (and remember, the creators of those were professional chefs, not amateurs like me), I discarded each and every idea that came into mind until I remembered something I had wanted to try for ages. I guess choosing foie gras was an easy option, but I found this a very happy marriage indeed. I stewed the pears in sauternes and seasoned them with cardamom, stirred in some prunes for extra sweetness, then arranged a bite-ful each on ceramic spoons. They were then topped with creamy foie gras, smoothed over with a spatula and sprinkled with caster sugar - a quick, but close encounter with the blow torch and voilà: an unusual, yet delicious amuse-gueule that fit Jeanne's stringent rules, but didn't make my taste-buds go ballistic! If anything, they were screaming for more, more, more!!!