Three Chimneys: Celery, Apple and Chestnut Soup

Made as my contribution to Christmas dinner. Interesting. Made some adjustments to it as I as going - added a few more chestnuts than the recipe called for. I wasn't that happy with it - too much apple, not enough of the other ingredients. Still, everybody ate it.

Three Chimneys: Baked Stuffed Apples

Well, it's December so I start thinking about Christmas. This recipe needed mincemeat, so I bought a jar and made this and a batch of mince pies. Both were delicious. The recipe wanted the apples to be baked with sherry. Didn't have any, so I used dark rum instead.

Three Chimneys: The Famous Hot Marmalade Pudding

Had some home-made bread left over, and a jar of my dad's marmalade in the fridge. So hot marmalade pudding happened. Unfortunately, I used a too-big bowl to steam it in, so it was lopsided when I turned it out, but it still tasted wonderful. I'll be making this again, with my own marmalade (if that turns out!).

Three Chimneys: Pot-Roasted Pheasant with Cider, Apple and Chestnut Cream Sauce

One word: yum. This would probably be a good Christmas dinner for two.

Three Chimneys: Pears Poached in Green Ginger Wine

Served with a hot chocolate sauce. Required the purchase of a bottle of green ginger wine. After poaching and eating the pears, I wondered what to do with the leftover liquid. Put it back in the pan and simmered it down until very syrupy, then bottled it. Makes a good hot drink, diluted with some hot water.

Three Chimneys: Whisky Fruit Loaf

I'm always a bit worried when I attempt loaf cakes and fruit cakes. There's always that slight worry over whether or not they're fully cooked. Every year, when I make my Christmas cake, there's that worry - worse, because I try to do a different recipe each year - over whether I got the timing right, whether that tester really was clean when it came out of the cake, did I just miss the massive uncooked section in the middle? The fear that, on Christmas day, when Dad and I both cut into our cakes (to swap bits of it), mine will collapse into a gooey mass of uncooked batter.
Still, that hasn't happened to me yet, and this isn't a Christmas cake. It has most of the same ingredients as one - dried fruit, chopped peel, glace cherries, a bit of spice, and some alcohol. It almost tastes like one. I suppose, cooked in a round tin instead of two loaf tins, fed with more whisky, then marzipanned and iced, it could be one. I'm not sure how well it would keep - but it tastes so good, I'm not sure how long it would need to keep.

Three Chimneys: Roast Crown of Grouse with Beetroot and Blackcurrant Gravy

First find your grouse. I suppose you could go and shoot it yourself, but I don't know of any shoots round here, and I'd probably miss anyway. No game dealers locally (well, none that I could find anyway), so I resorted to the internet. Shamefully, my grouse were English. I'll try to make my next ones a bit more local...
Having had my grouse arrive (along with a rabbit, which was supposed to be already jointed but wasn't - in the freezer to be dealt with another time), the first step in the recipe was to turn these little birds into crowns. The 'crown' is just the breasts attached to the bone, so you have to remove the legs and base bone. Luckily grouse bones seem to be quite small - I was able to achieve the task with just my big knife and a pair of scissors (and no loss of any important bits of me).
Having separated the legs, crown and base bone (binned), next start preparing the gravy. As with the lamb, the gravy involves lots of chopping, a long time simmering, straining and further heating. This time, I started well in advance of the time I planned dinner for, and didn't get into quite so bad a state. The gravy uses the grouse legs, various vegetables, and copious quantities of alcohol (red wine and port). The book also calls for game stock. Not having any, I substituted a combination of lamb and vegetable - I'm sure it gave a different taste, but it seemed to be acceptable.
I decided to do skirlie potato cakes with this, so prepared those while the gravy was having it's hours-long simmer.
With everything prepared - gravy done, grouse crowned and bacon-covered, potato cakes made - the dish comes together quite quickly. The grouse need browned in a frying pan, then 10 minutes roasting and another 10 minutes resting in the bottom of the oven. The potato cakes take 10 minutes in the oven, so they can be cooking while the grouse is resting.
Once everything is done, it's just a matter of making it look good on the plate - a task at which I still fail most of the time.

Three Chimneys: Autumn Pudding

This didn't quite work out. I think there were a number of reasons
- I didn't use enough syrup in the pudding
- The bread was thick sliced
- There was too much bread for the amount of fruit I could fit in the ramekins I used

Still, it tasted good. I'll have to try these again.

Three Chimneys: Rumbledethumps

Simple but good. Basically, mashed potatoes mixed with shredded cooked kale. Well, that's the Three Chimneys definition of it. I've seen other ones. Sue Lawrence in A Cook's Tour of Scotland includes turnip in her version. However, F. Marian McNeill in The Scots Kitchen agrees with the Three Chimneys version. We had this with haggis and turnip. One thing I can never get right is mashed turnip. I think I need a better masher.

Pickled Beetroot

Duncan was given two carrier bags by a guy at work, and he of course brought them home for me. one contained potatoes, and one contained beetroot. Potatoes, no problem. Beetroot? How am I going to use up half a dozen beetroot? Well, they were free, I've got enough to play with, and some jam jars left over, I'll try pickling them.
So, I go searching, read a few recipes, and come up with something I hope will work.
First, cook the beetroot. I baked them rather than boiling them. Wash them thoroughly, cut of most of the root and leaves (but leave some on), place in a covered casserole dish and bake at about 180C for anything between 1 and 2 hours depending on the size.
Once the beetroot is cooked, leave it to cool slightly, until till hot but just cool enough to handle. While they're cooling, sterilise the jars* and make the pickling liquid.
From my reading of various recipes, the pickling liquid is basically vinegar with various additions. The vinegar can be diluted. I used 200ml of cider vinegar and 100ml water. To this I added some juniper berries, cloves, mustard seed and a little sugar. Place this over a medium heat.
While the pickling liquid is heating, slice the beetroot. My jars are quite small, so I quartered the beetroot before slicing them. once the beetroot are prepared, get the jars out of the oven and bring the liquid to the boil. Pack the beetroot into the jars, pour over the liquid - making sure the jars are full right up - and seal.
I unfortunately, didn't have quire enough liquid for the three jars. The beetroot was covered in all three before sealing, but not right to the top. I thought it would be OK, but either the liquid evaporates or the beetroot absorbs it. So it's now a 'fridge pickle', needing to be eaten quite soon. The one we opened on Thursday seemed to be fine, although a little sharp for my taste (more sugar needed in the liquid? Different type of vinegar?) We'll see how the other ones have held up when they get opened.

*Turn the oven down to about 150C, wash the jars in hot soapy water (rinse in very hot water to get rid of the soap - not a good addition to anything), and put upside down in the oven - the same process as sterilising the jars for jam.

Three Chimneys: Plums in Spiced Port Wine

Back to desserts this week, and something very simple - poached fruit. First prepare the poaching liquid. In this case, some ruby port, a little sugar, and some spices. Quite an interesting combination: cinnamon stick, bay leaf, cloves, juniper berries and cardamom. Bring to the boil, add halved plums and simmer until the plums are soft.
The plums sounded good, but they really need to go with something. One of the suggestions in the book was to serve with cinnamon ice cream. Well, if cinnamon would be good, how about adding chocolate and making a cinnamon chocolate ice-cream? So, out with my basic ice-cream recipe, and start playing.
The basic recipe is one I came across last year - it's the one I also used here. The good thing about this one is that it only needs a few ingredients, and doesn't involve making a custard using any eggs - so no fear of scrambling anything.
So, when heating the milk and cream at the start, I added a cinnamon stick to try to get some of that flavour infused in. I also added some very finely chopped chocolate which I wanted to melt in. When mixing up the cornstarch with the rest of the milk, I also added a tablespoon or so of cocoa powder. I didn't add the vanilla, thinking that it would either not go with or overpower the cinnamon. Once the mixture had thickened, I added a tablespoon or so of dark rum, partly for flavouring and partly because I'm sure I read somewhere that adding alcohol to ice-cream stops it getting too rock-hard in the freezer.
Well, I don't think I added enough alcohol to my mix, because the ice-cream did get very firm. But how did it taste? Not quite enough of all the flavours, but still very nice. And it went very well with the plums.

Three Chimneys: Ham & Haddock Souffle

I made a soufflé. And it rose. Is there anything else I need to say?
I'm very pleased with this. Of course I was worried about making it - after all, soufflés have the reputation for being difficult things, tricky to get right, and liable to end up as pancakes if you get them wrong. But I had to have a go, and I'm glad I did.
After it had turned out, I went and read what McGee (On Food & Cooking) has to say about them. To quote:
"If you manage to get any air into the mix, an inexorable law of nature will raise it in the oven..."
So, no need to be worried about it rising then. Basic physics means it will (when air gets hotter, it takes up more space, so the air bubbles in the soufflé mix will expand and make it rise). Apparently this means they're a lot easier and more resilient than their reputation. Soufflé fallen a bit? Put it back in the oven!
Anyway, I'm sure it's not all quite that easy - it must still be possible for it to go wrong, or they wouldn't have that reputation, would they? However, this one turned out well, and I'll probably try at least one variation in future.

Three Chimneys: Whisky and Lemon Syllabub

I've never made syllabub. My mum makes it at Christmas, and I usually have at least part of one (no matter what other desserts there are). She makes the more classic (I think) one, using sweet white wine. So I was looking forward to trying this.
It's actually a pretty simple thing to make: another whisk-it-all-together dish. What I wasn't expecting was how quickly things would happen. Double cream (not the thick.extra thick stuff, which you wouldn't use for this) starts out fairly runny. But as soon as I added the whisky and lemon juice, it started to thicken. I didn't even have to use my whisk for this - it came together quite nicely just whipping with a fork.
So, how was it? I wouldn't want to eat a large amount of this on its own. But very nice combined with the strawberries, and I can see it coming out again.

Three Chimneys: Shortbread

I've actually made this recipe before. When I first bought the book, I wanted to try out one of the recipes. In need of some biscuits for the week, this is the one I chose. At the time , I didn't have the rice flour the recipe uses, so I used all plain flour (actually, type OO plain flour). They came out fine.
This time, I did have rice flour - although it was brown rice flour, not the white specified in the recipe. The butter was Graham's Gold - and the butter isn't just Gold in name. As the two main ingredients in the shortbread are the flour and the butter, I figured it was worth using a really good butter.
So how did they turn out this time? Well, I don't know if it was because the kitchen was warmer, or the butter was fattier, but I had more trouble with the dough. This time I had to chill it before I could roll it out and cut it cleanly. I slightly overfired the first tray. But the rest came out very well - light, crumbly, slightly flaky inside. Having had two successes with this, I think I might need to start experimenting with additions.

Three Chimneys: Summer Fruit Jam

Well, actually not-quite-Three Chimneys Summer Fruit Jam. Why? The recipe actually uses a combination of five fruits: strawberries, raspberries, gooseberries, redcurrants and blackcurrants. Unfortunately, I could only get four of them. The fruit farm we went to hadn't had a very good season for gooseberries, and there were none left. We did manage to pick redcurrants and blackcurrants, and got some ready picked raspberries and strawberries. So I made up the missing gooseberry portion using the other four fruits in about the same proportion.
The one thing I was most worried about here was whether the jam would set. I know the principle of testing it - put a plate in the fridge so that it gets cold, then after the jam has been boiled for the right amount of time (this recipe said 15 minutes), drop a teaspoonful onto the plate. Allow it to cool for a bit, then push it with your finger. If it wrinkles, it's ready. So I tried. After 15 minutes, no wrinkle. Boil another few minutes, test again. Is that a wrinkle? Not sure, boil a bit longer. After a total of 25 or 30 minutes, I thought it was sort of wrinkling, and was worried about over-boiling it, so decided that was it ready to go into the jars.
So how did it turn out? I'd say not bad for my first attempt. Out of the 1kg total of fruit I made 6 small jars of jam. One of those is nearly finished, one is earmarked to go to my dad, leaving four to last until I can do it again. Next time with gooseberries.

Three Chimneys: Gooseberry Meringue Tart

Think lemon meringue pie, but green. Crumbly pastry underneath, thinly golden crised meringue on top, soft gooseberry curd mixing into just cooked meringue in the middle.
This was the second attempt at making and using a sweet shortcrust pastry, and while it worked out, I'm still not that happy with it. More practice needed, I think. It's a shame gooseberries have such a short season.

Three Chimneys: Warm Salad of Scallops and Venison

This was supposed to be a warm salad of scallops and duck, but the recipe did say that you could use many different combinations. I had hoped to use smoked duck, but ended up with smoked venison instead. The scallops unfortunately weren't fresh ones, but the frozen ones seemed to be fine. I did try to make sure they were well dried before being cooked.
I don't usually make dressings to go with my salads, but since this salad was acting as the whole meal, and the book required it, I used the orange, honey and grainy mustard dressing. It's mixed with hazelnut oil, and the whole combination is really delicious. Might have to start making dressings for salads in future.

Three Chimneys: Groset Fool

Back to desserts for this one, and something nice and simple after last week's kitchen panic (although it did taste good). Groset is just a Scots dialect word for gooseberry, so this week I was making gooseberry fool. Stew some gooseberries with a little sugar and elderflower cordial until soft. Purée them, then pass through a sieve. Whip cream, with a little more elderflower cordial, until stiff-ish. Fold in gooseberry puree to taste. Spoon into glasses. I had some puree left over, so I layered it with the fool in the glasses.

Three Chimneys: Grilled Lamb with Barley Risotto

Well, this one was a lot more hassle than it needed to be. Let's start with ingredients. Most of them, just fine. The lamb? Getting a piece of trimmed off-the-bone loin of lamb is no problem - if you can get to a butcher, and he has it, and he's willing to accept your I-don't-really-know-what-I'm-asking-for-ness. Which I couldn't. So, nearest available substitute from the supermarket then - lamb loin chops.
Next problem - wild garlic. The title of the dish is actually supposed to be grilled loin of lamb with barley risotto and wild garlic gravy. I wouldn't know wild garlic if I tripped over it, and I don't think it's in season now anyway. So, since the book does say that it's possible to substitute, I went for a red wine and redcurrant one, rather than wild garlic and Madeira.
The theory of how to put the dish together seemed simple enough. Start the lamb marinading. Make the gravy. Make the risotto. Grill the lamb. Assemble on plate. The detail got a bit more complicated for me - much more than it needed to be.
I think that half my problem was that I didn't give myself enough time. With all of the chopping of various things for the gravy and the risotto, and various steps involved in making them, I think I underestimated the time it would take for each thing, and overestimated the amount I could do in parallel. Lesson? When doing something this complicated for the first time, study the recipe in detail, get all your stuff chopped and ready to go before you start, and always give yourself more time that you think you'll need.
Will I make this again? Probably. But without the gravy.

Three Chimneys: Cranachan

Left it until quite late to decide what I was going to make this week. In the end, I went for one of the simplest things possible: cranachan. How simple? Toast some oatmeal and leave to cool. Take double cream. Add whisky and honey. Whisk until as firm as you want it. Fold in most of the oatmeal. Pile into glasses with raspberries. Sprinkle remaining oatmeal on top.
The one major ingredient purchase this required for me? Whisky. The local supermarket has a limited selection. I think I took quite a while to make my decision. Yes, it has the one that really should be used for this (and the other whisky-using recipes in the book) - Talisker. But it's expensive (well, relatively). Can I justify buying it? There's half bottles there of other whiskies that are probably just as good. Yes, but they're not Skye whiskies. And back and forth I went. Yes, I did buy the Talisker. How could I not?

Three Chimneys: Cod, in Saffron Mussel Sauce with Skirlie Mash

I have never been able to eat mussels. Well, I did once manage to eat one, but that was with my eyes closed, and before I actually looked at them. They just look so, well, alien I suppose. Or like little mouths - as if they might bite back.
I wasn't sure whether I'd be able to get the fresh mussels I needed for this recipe. I did have an idea for a backup - although it would have changed the recipe somewhat. Luckily, D managed to find some fresh mussels at the supermarket fish counter.
Having never eaten mussels, it's hardly surprising I've never cooked them before either. Yes, I know the theory - discard any that are open, or have cracked shells, before you cook them, and discard any that are closed after you cook them. So, with D's help in the preparation (i.e. he did all the cleaning and discarding), we got the mussels cooked. It was actually stupidly amazing - all these closed shells tipped into the bubbling wine/stock/onion/parsley in the frying pan, lid on, leave for a few minutes. Take the lid off and wow, they've all opened! Yummy smells, and yes, I did actually eat one then. Fresh out of the shell.
Once the mussels are done, the rest of the dish is fairly easy, it just all needs to come together at once. I'd already prepared the skirlie bit of the skirlie mash a bit in advance. What is it? Well, basically it's finely chopped onion and oatmeal fried together in butter. While the potatoes were cooking, reduced the liquid the mussels had been cooked in, and added the (again, prepared in advance) fennel and onion and a pinch of saffron. While the cod was grilling, added some cream and the mussels into the sauce, and finished of the skirlie mash - basically as it sounds, mash the skirlie into the potatoes (with a bit more butter). It just gives a bit more texture and flavour to the mash.
Not being a restaurant kitchen, plating was nothing fancy. But it tasted good. Will I eat mussels again? Well, there's another recipe with them in...

Three Chimneys: Rhubarb Crumble Tart

I thought I'd start with a Sunday dessert that didn't look too daunting, the Rhubarb Crumble Tart. This is pretty much exactly what it sounds like. You start off with a sweet shortcrust pastry case, fill it with some cooked rhubarb, cover it with crumble topping, and bake.
Right. Portion sizes? There's only two of us. If I make the full tart, we're going to be eating it for ages. So I'll make two small ones.
First step in the recipe: line the tart time with sweet shortcrust pastry and bake blind. Ok....sweet shortcrust pastry? Don't want to buy it. No recipe for it in this book. So turn to the bookshelf, and come up with a recipe from Chocolate and Zucchini. Scale it down appropriately, and it's just what I need.
While the lined tart tins are chilling before their first baking, do the rhubarb. Freshly pulled, from the crowns in the back garden. Well they were here anyway, so i may as well use them. The rhubarb is sliced and baked with some orange juice, light brown sugar, and a couple of pieces of ginger. I'm a bit worried that there's too much sugar going in, but follow the recipe anyway.
With the rhubarb out of the oven, the tart cases go in. While these are baking, I make the crumble topping. I don't think my butter is as chilled as it should be, or else my hands are quite warm, but things don't quite rub together to the texture of sand as they should - the butter gets very sift and sticks together in some large bits, with some smaller sandy bits. So I go ahead and add the sugar, nuts and oats in, and rub it all together as best I can. It looks a bit more like very fine gravel than coarse sand, but I think it'll do the job. It goes back in the fridge until I'm ready for it.
The tart cases have come out of the oven and been left to cool for a bit before final assembly. A bit of the crumble topping gets sprinkled over the bases, just enough to cover them. Next, the rhubarb is divided between the cases. Finally, the rhubarb is covered with more of the crumble topping. Then it's back into the oven for a final baking.
The verdict? A success. I needn't have worried about the amount of sugar in the rhubarb, it wasn't too sweet (but it wasn't quite as sharp as I sometimes like it). The pastry worked well, and I'll be using that crumble topping again.

Joining In

Well, after some discussion, the decision was made: I'm going to try to cook as many recipes as possible from The Three Chimneys.

Join in?

Hmm, there seem to be quite a few people out there doing the 'cook every recipe in a cookbook' thing. I wonder whether I should join in, and if so, what cookbook should I choose? Something not too large, perhaps. It should probably be something vaguely local-themed, so my Sue Lawrence Cook's Tour of Scotland, or Alan Bichan Orkney Feast? Or something new - a Three Chimneys or a Claire Macdonald? Maybe one of her seasonal cooking books. I foresee a cookbook-browsing session in my future...