thepassionatecook

Blue cheese, apple & chestnut verrine

Here's another instalment of our Christmas Day dinner. Cooking for a family where one is very picky and another is only just four and not a very adventurous eater (yet, if he shows any interest in food at all, that is and isn't distracted by presents and company) can be tricky at the best of times - even more so on occasions like Christmas when you just want to be all understanding and accommodating and make sure everybody is happy. My teenage daughter is more or less a vegetarian, although she will have the occasional pork coming from a farmer round the corner from my parents' which ensures gentle, organic farming - if someone told me that he kills his animal by caressing them, I would believe them. The other thing she will eat is fillet from those lovely people at the Borough Market who sell wild beef - their cattle is out roaming the beautiful English countryside with no more than a barn as a shelter, they only live off what they graze on and get no additional feed, so there is obviously no danger of the meat being laden with artificial fatteners or antibiotics like most of the meat you buy these days. But I digress.

Our second course on Christmas Eve was  vegetarian to please the eldest and something that I prepared the day before (always a bonus). "Verrines" have become very fashionable last year (for some very beautiful concoctions, check Bea's blog La Tartine Gourmande) and I finally succumbed to the trend by making my own... the very first one. I wanted some Christmassy flavours here and settled on layers of blue cheese & mascarpone and stewed apple & chestnut, topped with caramelised pecan nuts with a hint of cayenne pepper. This may not be the most clever verrine ever, but a perfect starter for vegetarians and fussy eaters alike - what's not to like about cheese, apple and nuts?

Leek, gruyère & hazelnut quiche: submission to WSTIM

I've just been completely wiped out over the weekend... struck by a nasty flu that saw temperatures rising to 40.5 C (that's 105 F for those of you who care to know) and that's inside my body, unfortunately, the outside thermometer was rather rapidly approaching freezing! So this is why I missed the first Daring Baker's challenge since I joined, but I will still make that delectable potato bread as soon as my two legs will support me all the way to the supermarket, which, given that I just lost 4 kg in 4 days (sometimes, bad bouts of flu DO have a positive side effect as well) and has left me very frail, seems unthinkable at the moment.

Jeanne of Cook Sister! is hosting this month's instalment of "Waiter! There's something in my..." and her chosen theme is topless tarts... I couldn't very well miss that now, could I, at least not if I expect her to participate in the round I will be hosting next month (where the theme might be soufflés, if you're must ask). So I dragged myself downstairs this morning, my circulation not thinking much of it all, deciding it was too weak to fight gravity yet and sending me back into a seated position with every major exertion (like opening a fridge door or cracking three eggs in a row, for example), but I did complete the challenge and even managed to take a picture... back on my sickbed, I am typing it all up so you get your fair share. I've decided that quiches are a much better way to regain strength than chicken noodle soup, provided you have the strong and experienced stomach of a gourmand, there's not a lot of food out there that's more comforting than this.

Speaking of chicken, my lecturer was saying last weekend how a flatmate only recently found out that the eggs you buy in the supermarket are unlikely to hold a little chick, and the woman was thirty! You have to wonder: what are these people thinking? Apart from the fact that these battery-laid eggs are thoroughly x-rayed before they're put in the carton (somebody could sue the producers for emotional distress, I guess, if... no, no need to go into details here), do the chickens you see in those documentaries all the time look like they're enjoying a little number (free-range or other) every so often? No they don't! Otherwise they wouldn't look so bloody miserable in the first place!

But back to my quiche... I can't get enough of leeks, be it just steamed and served with a simple vinaigrette or in a potato and leek soup - leek rules! Especially when it is young and doesn't contain much grit so you can cut right up into the end of the stalks, which gives you that vibrant green in your food... can only be good for you! As for the cheese, feel free to use anything you like, but I just love a good reserve gruyère. Whether you grate it or cube it is really a bit of a lifestyle choice, just like the decision whether to lick the chocolate off your Maltesers first and slowly melt the malty bit on your tongue or to just go for it and bite straight into it for maximum crunch (although for the quiche, it doesn't really make a difference if you wear dentures, whereas in the Maltesers situation, it is a crucial factor!). The hazelnuts were a great addition, I don't know why but nuts in cooking give such an autumnal feel - although they're available throughout the year, I do think that they taste slightly fresher when they're new season.

I'm running out of steam despite all the good food I just had to give me strength... so I'll rest a bit for now. Enjoy!

Omelette Arnold Bennett

It's only through wiki that I found out that Arnold Bennett was an English writer and it was for him that they invented this breakfast at the Savoy in London which should forever carry his name and feature in every other English cookbook. (His contemporary Virginia Woolf didn't think much of him, but maybe she was just jealous that there is no famous breakfast in her name).
This current recipe is from Marcus Wareing's "How to cook the perfect..." which has become a bit of a reference book for all things cooking - the recipes are not necessarily awe-inspiring stunners in the sense that you've never seen them before, but rather fool-proof instructions for classics such as custard tart, flapjacks, onion soup and fish pie. With every recipe, you get valuable techniques that make it a success every time and even hints for when disaster does strike, like how to rekindle a split mayonnaise etc. So even if I might use a different recipe for a given thing, I might still consult this book to brush up on the techniques or rescue something I thought was lost.
Back to Bennett, though. Looking at what this "omelette" is composed of, he really must have had "unhealthy" written in bold letters across his forehead, but that's no reason not to love the man? Half-set omelette and poached smoked haddock isn't that bad, I guess, but add to it a liberal sprinkle of cheese and a generous topping of sauce hollandaise before you put it under the grill for a few minutes, and you've got yourself a sure recipe for a cardiac arrest if consumed daily. (And I bet the poor guy hadn't even heard of the Atkins diet!)
But we're not having this every day, we're only indulging in it every once in a while and I guess that's OK. Seeing how substantial and hearty this dish is, this is actually one of the few egg dishes that I prefer to enjoy as a dinner, rather than at the start of the day - add a fresh salad for a few vitamins and suddenly it seems a much more viable choice of a dish. Moreish it is in any case, never mind the calories!

Cannellini bean bruschette with capers and slow-roast tomatoes

I feel a bit like a dog chasing its tail at the moment... and here was me thinking that I'd have a lot of time on my hand with my husband enjoying four weeks of gardening leave! Wrong. Him being at home means that there's even more work as we tackle those "little" projects that we've been meaning to take care of for months... converting the baby's room into something that feels like a nursery, rather than a laundry room cum dumping ground with a cot stuck in its centre like a bit of an afterthought. Or finally taking the courage to throw a lot of what we boxed up in our last move into the garbage so we can use that room in the attic as what it was meant to be: a bedroom. With a bed in it. Not tons of boxes, empty cardboard, a pile of suitcases and anything that doesn't really have a place in this household.

Add to that the fact that my youngest is growing up at a pace that I cannot keep up with and is crawling up the stairs and cruising along the furniture at barely eight months when other babies think they deserve a round of applause when they finally manage to sit upright for 2 seconds... so I am pretty much spending the day on my knees seeing the house at a new (and not very attractive) angle - it's like doing exercise after years of being a couch potato or having a few children and discovering muscles you never knew existed! Spend a day on all fours and suddenly there are problem areas you'd never notice otherwise: I am not talking about my physique here, I am talking about cleaning in places I've been ignoring (because the minute your tiny tod is pulling his hand out from under the cupboard and does what babies do best, namely stick said hand straight into his mouth before you can reach for a wetwipe and clean 3 cm of grime off his chubby fingers, you suddenly realise that sweeping under the furniture does have its advantages, no matter how hard you're trying to resist) and of course, there's a lot of child-proofing and thinking ahead to do. You'd never have thought that an umbrella leaning against a radiator could be a potential hazard, but as soon as a baby that can barely crawl insists on pulling himself up on it, you know you've got some work to do.

And after cooking three different types of veg and fruit for the baby and another dish fit for a ravenous school boy at every mealtime, all intentions of whipping up a five-course meal for the grown-ups in the family have vanished in the haze. No wonder, then, that there's an awful lot of fast food being consumed in this household lately - but not of the kind you think... no matter how much we have adapted to life here in England, I still can't stomach the typical dinner options from your local chippie or the Chinese take-away around the corner - I'd rather eat a fried shoesole (mind you, last time I checked, that's exactly what the guy coming out of "Melbourne Chinese Food Take-Away" must have ordered) than resort to that! No, when I say fast food, I mean something that doesn't involve hitting the shops late at night, but throwing a meal together from whatever your kitchen cupboard spits out. This sort of pantry cooking can be done at any time of the day, of course, but I bet you're also at it late at night when you've come home from a long day at the office or on after a Sunday spent pottering about without regard for supermarket opening hours...

More often than not, in this house such meals are likely to consist of spaghetti with oil and garlic, a quick omelette with truffle salt or, if I'm lucky, a portion of lasagne that I had frozen because I always make enough to feed an army! The only thing about quick fixes is that no matter how fast they must be to throw together, they also must satisfy you on more than just one level: you want them to be tasty, but also aesthetically pleasing so that they cleverly hide the fact that they are, well, not much more than an afterthought... or they'll have you running off with the next Häagen-Dazs that crosses your path.

Last week, I found some cannellini beans and a jar of capers, luckily I had some shallots at home and some over-ripe tomatoes which I slow-roasted while I was finally doing my tax return... and with a piece of sourdough bread that was maybe a little past its prime but still tasted great toasted, I had myself a tasty snack! What is it that you throw together on such occasions?

Other tasty quick fixes on thepassionatecook:
Three-bean salad with spicy salsa verde (October 2005)
Cannellini bean, salmon & caviar canapés (May 2007)
Pear & camembert bruschette with rocket, fennel & hazelnut salad (April 2005)
Goats cheese and tomato bake with garlic crostini (January 2005)
Ham & shitake oeufs cocotte (April 2007)

Polenta dumplings stuffed with cheese

Ever heard of arancini? If you've grown up in a Germanic-speaking country, chances are you think I am talking about candied peel here, but I am not. I am referring to the Sicilian dumplings that are so called because their colour reminds one of an orange.
The last time I had some was at a rather special evening dedicated to Italian rice and like so many times, we were told that arancini are made from left-over risotto. I bet you have heard this before and I cannot help but think this is an urban myth that has been perpetuated over the centuries, but bears little relation to reality.

By show of hands: who has ever come across left-over risotto? The only instances where my family would not eat their risotto up is if it didn't taste good (overcooked rice, too dry, bad ingredients), in which case frying might help to mask the taste a little, but wouldn't really make the spoilt rice into something as delicious as these glistening balls stuffed with lava-hot melting goodness you're craving.
I maintain that it's a nice theory to be able to use left-overs, but it hardly ever happens. At least not in my house. But then, I love a good dumpling, even more so if it is stuffed with cheese, crunchy on the outside, gooey and exploding with flavour inside - but making risotto from scratch just to drown it in hot oil doesn't seem like a feasible idea as it would a) take too long and b) feel like a waste of a perfectly good dish...

What about polenta, then? It's readily available, put together in a flash and also much less temperamental than rice when you roll it. Stuffed with some hard cheese or diced ham (I have tried parma, but find that uncooked ham acquires a funny flavour when you deep-fry or heat it) or porcini mushrooms, these dumplings are a real treat and very difficult to resist.
Being Austrian, I have rolled many a dumpling in my life - if you're a bit apprehensive about making them, here are some useful tips for dumpling rolling, a handy guide that can be applied to any dumpling, really:

• Start out by making small round patties out of whichever dough your using. Sit the filling in the middle, gently roll the dough up on the sides and over the top, squeezing just enough to make it slide without the cheese running for its life at the other end.
• Roll the dumplings softly, but determinedly, between the palms of your flat hands until they're evenly round. If you apply too much force, the dough won't spread evenly, but if you don't show the dough who's boss, it'll get all sloppy and won't keep the cheese in the centre. The trick is to move your hands quite fast.
• The dough might be quite sticky and that's a good thing - if you feel you cannot tame it at all, moisten your hands, making sure they're not dripping wet, and roll them in that way. Be sure not to make the dough too wet, though, or there'll be a lot of hot oil splattering about the kitchen and the dough won't hold its shape.
• When frying dumplings, the hot oil : dumpling ratio is essential. You need to make sure not to overcrowd your pan or the temperature of the oil will drop too much - the dumplings need to fry rapidly or they risk disintegrating. I fry these dumplings in batches of 5 - 6 in a 28 cm frying pan.

Try these for your next dinner party as a nibble to accompany your aperitif or even as a starter, with a herb salad on the side. With this handy guide and a bit of practice, you'll be a dumpling roller par excellence in no time!

These dumplings were initially made for September's Blog Party ("What's inside?") over at Dispensing Happiness - as so many times before, I just didn't make the deadline ;-)

Pecorino sott'olio: a contribution to WTSIM!

There's a time for everything... and the autumn is definitely the time for preserving! I have been restraining myself from jamming too much this year, and I mean: really restraining! Not quite in a straight jacket like the one Jack Nicholson wears in "One flew over the Cuckoo's nest", but I've been finding it hard not to buy seasonal produce by the truckload and packing it neatly into jars. I must be carrying an innate urge to prepare for the winter, hording nuts and berries like a squirrel, so this year, I am feeling somewhat nervous that I might not make it through hibernation (God, I wish I COULD actually hibernate - a good stack of wine bottles, tons of good books, chocolates and comfort food, no worrying about calories seeing that you're spending the next few months tucked under a blanket avoiding the scrutiny of your friends or any Joe Bloggs who thinks he's entitled to an opinion on the way you look!)... luckily, the reason for exercising restraint is only that my cupboards are already overflowing, even though, despite spending a full six weeks in Austria in the summer, I missed the delivery of those special apricots for the Wachau again, but my Mum did all the canning for me! Add to those 12 jars of apricot jam in various guises a batch of plum jam supplied by my grandmother who, despite being almost blind, still finds the energy to be cooking and baking, and a fair number of "speciality jams" I collected along the way or received as presents. Definitely quite the gatherer, moi.
So I am definitely covered on the sweet front - but what about savoury? When it comes to preserving, I rarely think vegetables, probably because there isn't a great tradition of it in my family. The thing is that you can buy decent Sauerkraut, gherkins and pickled chillis in almost every shop, even straight from the barrel if you venture out to the markets. So even I had to think hard when I volunteered to host this month's edition of "Waiter! There's something in my...". Inspiration came in the form of a holiday to Tuscany earlier this year - we stayed near Pienza, which is, as you may know, home to the famous Pecorino di Pienza (not to confound with its more common namesake pecorino romano which is not protected and sold up and down the country). Pecorino di Pienza is an origin-protected sheep's cheese (pecora is Italian for sheep) and can come in all shapes and guises, from a soft fresh cheese to a gran riserva, aged and matured and very much like a good parmesan cheese, hard, dense and almost crumbly. I think this is the way I like it best, with some truffle honey drizzled over and enjoyed as is, with some confit shallots in balsamico, a crumb of ciabatta (or two) and a glass of wine (or three). While at one of the many local delicatessen, selling way too many Italian delicacies than my pantry can actually cope with, I came across something I hadn't seen before: pecorino sott'olio (lit. pecorino under oil). Thin slivers of hard cheese preserved in flavoured olive oil. Yumm!
Since I still had a vacuum-packed piece of pecorino gran riserva in my fridge, I prepared the flavoured oil - I leave it up to you which type of oil you use, but for once I think an extra virgin is over the top for this purpose, go for a second pressing, a mild and low-maintenance olive oil that you would use for cooking. With the garlic and the spices (bay leaves, peppercorns and peperoncini) you're gently frying in it, the grassy freshness of a top Tuscan oil would only go bitter and compromise the other flavours too much. I thinly sliced the pecorino with my mandoline, then poured the cooled oil over... if you didn't think cheese lent itself for this treatment, think again: you can use pretty much any cheese, but I would suggest to either do it when it's still fresh (ie more the consistency of a cream cheese), scooped into small balls and seasoned with fresh herbs and garlic, or when it's really old and its crumbly and salty texture benefits from a bit of moisture. The subtle flavour of garlic and chilli is not something the pecorino really needs, but it's a welcome change and is a welome and unusual addition to any cheeseboard or served with your aperitif. As for the flavouring, be adventurous - the world's your oyster!

If you haven't yet, you still have two days to submit your contribution to this instalment of WTSIM - and I am known for turning a blind eye even if you are slightly late... as long as you email me before I post the round-up! Go on then, get perserving!

Caramelised fennel & red onion salad with raisins & pistachios

The venue: an end-of-terrace house in East London
The occasion: an end-of-summer braai at the Cook Sister!'s
The first act: an I-wish-this-would-never-end dish of slowly caramelised fennel and red onion.

When I arrived at the house I thought I had made a big mistake. Oh no, Jeanne was her usual lovely self, the other invitees two friends of her whom I adore, master-of-the-braai Nick preparing the bacon-wrapped venison which I had "ordered"... but somehow, the briefing Jeanne had given me when she asked me to bring a starter failed to mention that Olwen and Cecil would ALSO be bringing salad - one each! Clearly a break-down in communications and I feared that we would  all be leaving with salad hanging out of our ears. Luckily, the company at the table was very forgiving and my "salad" a stunner.

Fennel is always a tricky one to serve - it's a vegetable you either love or hate, just like beetroot and celery, I guess. I was never a big fan as a kid, but then fennel is very much an adult taste, don't you think? Its flavour is often referred to as resembling aniseed or liquorice, both of which I used to hate - but then the comparison doesn't really work for me, as I don't really like liquorice even now and I do adore my fennel. Aniseed, maybe.

Anyway - this version is probably one of the least controversial ones, you can even risk serving it to people who are known as being picky. Anything caramelised tastes just miles better than plainly cooked and with the sweet-and-sour tinge this dish has to it, there's a flavour component for everyone. And if that won't win them over, then the sherry-soaked raisins will surely produce smiles all round... if you have very picky guests, just double the amount!

WTSIM... vegetarian BBQ: Mozzarella & chilli stuffed limes

Just as you thought the summer was over, the Cook Sister! is hosting another round of the ever-so-popular "Waiter! there's something in my..." event where the chosen theme for August is BBQ. And before you fire up the grill and get out your Frankfurters and steaks, be advised that for once, the event is vegetarians only. Yep, you've heard right. Vegetables on the Weber. Or anything that isn't meat, basically. We've all been there: lovely summer evening, you sitting on a sun lounger, a bottle of chilled white wine or a jug of Pimm's at arm's reach - not long before the guests arrive and panick strikes when one of them announces that he/she has become a vegetarian! What now? Few of us carnivores tend to make provisions for those cases, but it's really not all that difficult to offer a non-meat alternative without having to lug a whole pumpkin on the grill...
If your guest eats fish, it's really simple: a whole sea bass stuffed with lemon wedges, garlic slices and a handful of fresh herbs usually does the trick... let them worry abouth the bones ;-) Or, if you want to make it really easy for them, try some fish parcels: a few chunks of fish like salmon or cod, some shelled prawns (or scallops, if you want to splash out), some live mussels plus a few segments of lemon or grapefruit, two sprigs of coriander and a teaspoon full or two of a home-made chilli & lime butter - nothing could be easier, yet more luxurious.
If fish and seafood are not an option, there's still no reason to fret. Grilled vegetable slices might look like a bit of an afterthought (even though you might argue that chucking a packetful of sausages on the BBQ is hardly a labour of love), but these stuffed limes are a real treat. Not only do they taste great, they also look the part and lend themselves to all sorts of variations: my favourite is to stuff them with mozzarella, then top with some chopped chilli, occasionally a dollop of home-made pesto... a quarter of an hour later, you've got a mini-bowl full of bubbling goodness, with a tiny hint of citrus: refreshing and indulging at the same time.
The concept of the lemon as a container works with other ingredients, too. How about some scamorza (smoked mozzarella) and sundried tomatoes? Halloumi, roast vegetables and harissa? Or how about some couscous, smoked salmon and a handful of rocket? The possibilities are endless.
And do try these ideas on carnivores... We had some friends over this summer and while he was unpacking a big chunk of steak and some speciality sausages we had brought from Austria, my dear husband was questioning whether anyone would go for my "fancy" fish parcels and stuffed limes - at that point, he would have bet anything that my meatless BBQ ideas were a complete waste of space. But after offering another steak to a friend who has never been known to refuse a good chunk of beef, said friend replied "no thanks, but do you have some more of those lovely cheese thingies?"  Goes to show that you should never underestimate the power of a great meat-free alternative - not even for a barbecue!

White asparagus soufflés

Taking advantage of the last few weeks of the season, I picked up some white asparagus from the German baker at the end of June... yes, I know, I still call it the German baker although it's really much more like a grocery store for expats. The first time I heard of them was actually at work, where they used to come to deliver bread once a week, as they would to many other addresses in the City, like the Austrian and German Embassy and any other location likely to house hungry workers desperate for a gluten fix. I also buy my sausages there, breadcrumbs, rye flour and  other essential and non-essential food stuff - I'd never tell the kids, but this is a great place to go for tried and trusted childhood sweets like Haribo, Milka and other tooth-pullers. Shame that the staff can be very off-putting at times, just goes to show that politeness and friendliness were certainly not a German invention ;-)
When I discovered that they also sold white asparagus imported from Germany there, I jumped for joy... no longer would I have to make the trek to the Borough market (much as I love going there, it takes a good 3 hours out of my day and at the moment, I don't have much spare time anyway), but now I can conveniently pick up a bunch when I drop my son off at school. So we've had a quite a bit this season just gone and although I still defend my view of the simpler being the better, I have been caught dreaming up some more innovative treatments for those pristine white stalks.
It was only with that last bunch I bought that I finally came to try one of the ideas - in my mind, it looked much prettier than what I managed to put together in the end, but the taste was amazing. I am not quite sure what to call it: it all started with the plan to make a savoury cheesecake, using crumbs from rye bread for the base - but then I got lazy and decided to just use the dressing ring to cut a base out of a slice of rye bread I had in the bread tin. Halving and arranging the tips around the edge of the form like in a charlotte russe seemed like a neat idea and the inside made from cream cheese, eggs and puréed asparagus stalks is a fluffy mixture somewhere between a flan and a soufflé.
Whatever you like to call it, it's a wonderful starter for an early summer meal and despite the assembly being a bit fiddly, surprisingly easy to put together. So if you're looking for a more elaborate way of serving asparagus, this recipe might be for you... and if you're having trouble laying your hands on some white asparagus, try it with its green cousin - the taste will not be as subtle and elegant as with white asparagus, but the looks will be even more dramatic, I should think!

Other asparagus recipes on thepassionatecook:
Salmon & asparagus cousous with mint & lemon dressing (July 2007)
Green & white asparagus salad with red pepper & tarragon (May 2007)
Venison fillet on apple asparagus "lasagne" (February 2007)
Smoked haddock & asparagus lasagne (May 2004)
Asparagus, parma ham and egg breakfast tart (June 2004)

WTSIM... sauce! Poached egg with sauce hollandaise on green asparagus & rye bread

For this round of our beloved "Waiter, there's something in my..." event, Andrew of spittoon has chosen sauces for a theme. I always say that it is in the sauce that you can distinguish a good restaurant from an excellent one: the top players in the gourmet restaurant scene are said to work on one particular sauce for a couple of years before they get it just right... and we all know that when you cook in that league, serving sauces out of a sachet is clearly not enough! (Sadly, we have also all experienced restaurants where the same awful sauce, be it instant from a sachet or straight out of a jar, is served with every single dish on the menu, as I have had to experience here - and despite the criticism, I stick by my guns - and recently in a Gasthof in the vicinity of where I am spending my holidays. I won't even bore you with a review!).
Despite years of passionate cooking in which I have certainly honed my skills a lot, I still find sauces to be my weak spot. I have found many a shortcut to produce a mean sauce to accompany a great chunk of fillet steak in particular (sherry and green peppercorn being a favourite), but I admittedly don't spend hours reducing the alcohol and stock or mounting the sauce with butter - I make a leaner version that may not be following traditional line of cooking, but I do get by and nobody has ever (knowingly) blamed me for not making a "real" sauce. (Just to avoid misunderstandings, though, I do NOT use a certain brand of gravy granules, mix it with water and claim it to be home-made... I may cheat a little here and there, but I am not a criminal plus I do have tastebuds!)
And then there's the sauce of sauces. The one where you can spot the difference between a store-bought version (for years I used to think Maille's really wasn't that bad - not anymore!) and a real one from miles off... Sauce Hollandaise. Believe it or not, we use this sauce almost weekly - be it on freshly steamed vegetables or drizzled over a favourite breakfast treat of eggs benedict (or rather my own version, which I call eggs florendict) - and you will therefore believe me when I say that I have launched many failed attempts at making my own. I have lost count of the days where everything was ready for us to sit down to a leisurely Sunday brunch and I only had to concentrate on making the sauce, pearls of sweat appearing on my forehead at the mere thought of messing it up again... diligent as I (sometimes) am, I have consulted numerous books on the issue, sought online advice left, right and centre, only to find my arm breaking after whisking the sauce over a hot waterbath for what seemed like hours and the sauce splitting yet again!
Not anymore. Unfortunately for you (if you find yourself in that same spot of sheer desperation), I have resorted to cheating. I have alluded to my new favourite kitchen toy on a number of occasions already and will now reveal that it is a Thermomix. I will write about it some more on a seperate occasion because a gadget that is good enough for me to take it along when I go on holidays certainly deserves its own post... but for this purpose, let me tell you that since I bought it I have never messed up an hollandaise again - I simply put in all the ingredients and at the touch of a button two buttons and the turn of a knob, I have a perfect sauce in just 6 minutes flat! No whisking, no aching arms and certainly no split sauce!

Other sauce recipes on thepassionatecook:
Portwine & orange sauce ... with venison (September 2006)
Blueberry sauce ... with pear pancakes (October 2006)
Portwine & stilton sauce... with pork fillet (May 2004)
Red wine & shallot sauce... for venison or steak (February 2007)
Easy sherry sauce... equally good with pork, beef or chicken (January 2007)
Red onion & apple sauce... with pork (October 2004)
Frothy cider chaudeau... with tempura-fried apple slices (November 2004)