'Go Ahead Honey It's', Magic Lemon Pudding! (SCD)

It's that time of month again. Time to put my thinking cap on and dream something up for, 'Go Ahead Honey it's Gluten Free!' - the gluten free online blogging event for everyone who fancies a challenge and doesn't mind leaving the gluten out. Of course, my entries are also grain free, lactose free and sugar free (if you don't count a little drizzle of honey here and there).

This month our theme was Food From Your Childhood, hosted by Nooshin of For The Love Of Food. We were asked to look back to food that comforted and conjoured up that nourishing feeling of being at home - whether it came directly from your childhood, or a dish that you make now to soothe away furrowed brows, or tears or simply long to sit down to after a hard day or a windy walk.

I chose Magic Lemon Pudding, a secret delight from my childhood and one that inspired me to make these Magic Lemon Bars a while ago. Magic Lemon Pudding is one of those desserts that separates in the oven to create an airy sponge above and creamy custard sauce below - magic see? In my investigations I also found that it can be called, Lemon Delicious Pudding (a fair description) or Self-Saucing Lemon Dessert - a very unromantic and pedestrian description for something thoroughly mystical. Magic Lemon it is then.

When I was little and understood nothing of the science behind batters and dough, I could not imagine how something that looked so unpromising when it went into our Pyrex pudding dish, could come out of the oven like a triumph of hope over adversity. Although it tasted fabulous before it went in the oven, I had to admit - without wanting to spoil the whole wonder of a rare event - that it looked rather gloopy.

The making of this pudding was an event in itself. Zesting lemons was an amazing journey into olfactory heaven, separating eggs - a test of courage and ingenuity. Whipping egg whites produced a miracle that we marveled at each and every time, holding it over our heads and shouting, 'look!' whilst secretly hoping we didn't end up with an egg white wig. There was a hand held rotary whisk that my sister and I took turns to struggle with, clunking the wooden handle bravely with a mixture of hope and pain on our faces and eventually relief - when mum would offer up her henna stained hands to the beast and swiftly beat the whites into submission with uncharacteristic efficiency.

Then she eased the batter carefully into its dish and popped it in the state of the art smokey-glass fronted oven and we waited, returning to look at the pudding's progress through the dark window, squinting and putting our faces as close as we dared, hoping to observe the miracle happening. When did the gloop separate to form those two distinct layers? One moment we would look at the pudding and it was just batter, when we returned next, the fairies had been and waved a magic sponge maker over the thing and we'd missed it again.

When it was time to eat the pudding she would open the oven with a flourish and set the wondrous golden sponge on the table. The kitchen was filled with a rich scent of lemon, butter and eggs - all sweet and cosy. Each bite offered a choice between sharp, sweet lemony sponge or soothing creamy lemon custard, or both on the same spoon?

I have often wanted to make that dessert and stopped myself, wondering was the memory too precious to disturb? And yet, when Nooshin suggested the theme I knew exactly what I wanted to make, so I took the plunge and tried to recreate that pudding for myself - without the flour, sugar and milk of my childhood, hoping that I could still capture the magic anyway.

Without gluten to hold the sponge, or milk to soothe the custard, or sugar to provide a sweet platform for other flavours, I knew that my pudding would be denser than I remembered, with a definite taste of honey. I chose coconut milk to take the edge off the lemon and blanched almond flour for the super-sifted white flour of old.

The result was delicious, almondy sponge above and a delicate lemony custard below. Like souffles - the puddings fell almost as soon as they left the protective heat of the oven, but baking each in a coffee cup meant that I didn't have to worry about serving the delicate dessert myself. I simply placed each hot cup on the table and instructed Finley and Nick to dig in without ceremony.

There were four puddings and only three of us. The forth went into the fridge - but I have to admit that later that evening I went back and polished it off, not minding at all that the sponge was deflated.

In the morning Finley opened the fridge expectantly and gasped in horror.

'Where is that pudding?' he demanded breathlessly.

I suddenly realised that Fin and I had made plans for the same pudding. He wailed loudly, that I shouldn't have eaten it and fixed me with a look of pure puddinglessness.

'Make six next time ok?'

'ok'

Magic Lemon Pudding (SCD)
serves 4 (or a family of three and a greedy mummy)

3 Large Eggs - separated
1/4-1/3 cup of honey (1/4 makes a just sweet pudding 1/3 makes a sweet one)
Zest of 1 1/2 lemons
90ml lemon juice (1 1/2 lemons)
50g (2oz) Butter - melted
200ml Full Fat Coconut Milk (check for stabilisers - no xanthan gum for SCD) 
80g (3oz) Ground Blanched Almonds
pinch of salt

Preheat the oven to 150C fan assisted 160C if not. Place four mugs in the tray and fill it with water to come 3/4 of the way up the cups. Take the cups out, set aside and put the water filled tray into the oven to heat through.

In a mixing bowl, whisk the egg yolks, lemon zest, juice and honey until smooth.

Whisk in the melted butter in a thin stream and then pour in the coconut milk and whisk again.

Beat in the almonds and set aside.

In a scrupulously clean bowl with a clean whisk, beat the egg whites with the salt to stiff peaks.

Fold half the egg whites into the lemon mixture to loosen, mix until no blobs of white are visible. Fold in the rest very gently, trying to knock as little air as possible out of the whites.

Spoon evenly into the waiting mugs until they are nearly full and place carefully into the hot tray of water in the oven.

Bake for 30-40 minutes, or until the tops are risen, puffy and golden brown. Under cook rather than overcook. Serve immediately, but warn people that the cups are hot. A spoonful of creme fraiche or strained yogurt would be delicious, or a little extra coconut milk poured into the hole made after the first spoonful.

Check out the round up at For The Love of Food around the middle of December, or just before. If you'd like to enter, email the link to your entry to Nooshin by the 5th of December: nooshins @ gmail . com

Spiced Almonds for when you fancy a little smackerel of something piquant

The Specific Carbohydrate Diet can be rather heavy on the nuts, what with breads, muffins and cakes being mostly composed of them, it's easy to eat rather more than a sensible portion of nuts in a day. I don't eat that much nut bread myself - not because I don't like it, believe me I do! But because I am slowly weaning myself off filling up with bread and increasing my intake of vegetables in its place.

The high carb diet that we are used to eating gives a certain sense of fullness that it can be really tough to replicate with protein and vegetables. You know you're full but there is a niggling sense that something is missing. Carbs make you feel full, content and comforted - no coincidence that most people think of things like buttery mashed potatoes, thick cut crusty white bread or creamy pasta when they want comfort. Carbs also help release tryptophan and serotonin in the brain (feel good chemicals) adding to that sense of completeness we associate with carbs.

On the SCD those carbs are replaced by vegetables and nuts - with the emphasis on vegetables. This is where all the carbohydrate should come from ideally, packaged in a form that the gut can handle, with both soluble and insoluble fibre to help everything move along just nicely. Squash can replace that buttery mash, white almond toast kick that crusty bread craving to the curb and the mandolin is a very handy tool for imitating those long papery strips of pasta you crave (almost).

During the process of adjustment to a new way of eating, it's good to have things that you can snack on and foods that seem to fill that aching gap left by all those comforting carbs. Nut breads and cakes are fantastic - in moderation, but sometimes you just want something savoury, something to crunch, something that makes you lick your fingers afterwards to get the last salty crumbs.

When that salty, savoury craving comes over me, I make spiced nuts. Often I make them quite hot, so I can't stuff huge handfuls of them in at once! It's definitely a strategy that works with Fin.

These are a great addition to mezze, or as a pre-dinner appetiser. Just don't turn your back for too long if you want any for yourself, because when I made these last we were fighting over the salty garlic crumbs at the bottom of the bowl.....

Spiced Marcona Almonds

You can make these with ordinary blanched almonds, or any other nut you like - but my favourite are marcona almonds, creamy when raw and fabulously crunchy and sweet when toasted. I only make small quantities otherwise I find they are just too easy to eat and you know the rest...

They are not suitable for anyone starting the diet, because whole nuts and ground seeds can be hard to digest. I suggest you wait at least three months before trying these.

4oz Blanched Marcona Almonds
1/4 tsp Ground Turmeric
1 tsp Ground Coriander Seed
1/2 tsp Hot Smoked Paprika or Cayenne Pepper
1/2 tsp Ground Cumin Seed
Large Pinch Salt Flakes
Large Clove of Garlic
1 tbs Vegetable Oil

Preheat the oven to 160C fan assisted (170C without) and roast nuts on a tray until pale gold - they should squeak when you bite into one, but be careful not to burn your tongue!

While the nuts are roasting crush the garlic with the salt to a paste, on a board with a knife - or in a pestle and mortar which is easier. add spices and oil and mix to form a runny paste.

When the nuts are done toss them thoroughly in the spice mix to coat and scrape them back onto the baking tray. Return to the oven for 3-5 minutes giving a shake half way through, until the spice paste has dried.

Leave to cool and pack into a jar to keep them crisp (put it on a high shelf so curious snackers can't find it until you want them to).

'Go Ahead Honey, It's Gluten Free!' - Announcing November - Food From Your Childhood

Yes folks - slightly later than advertised I bring you this month's theme for the gluten free online food event, 'Go Ahead Honey, It's Gluten Free!'. Hosted by the delightful Nooshin of For The Love of Food, who chose as her theme; Food From Your Childhood - food which comforts and cossets, makes you feel at home, reminds you where you came from and makes you want to stay right where you are.

For more information about the event go straight to Nooshin, where she will expand on the theme and give you deadlines etc.

Meanwhile, I shall be ruminating on the food of my childhood, Eggy Bread, Barm Brack, Colcannon, Vegetarian Irish Stew, Magic Lemon Pudding and a speciality of my mother's that I have never come across in anyone elses childhood - Fluffy Eggs. I may recreate this legendary dish as my contribution to this month's challenge. It sure is good.....

x x x

Warm Spiced Squash Salad

This afternoon as the sun turned gold around the edges, we realised that if we were going to get that walk we had to go now. Wellies were pulled up over stripy knee socks, hoods and hats arranged, dried mango and torches stowed in pockets just in case.

Our walk took us up the steep side of Lewesdon Hill, thickly covered with ancient beech trees gently burnishing the dark earth below with redundant leaves. The air was clean and yet so full of a rich fruitcake smell, laced with a little black soil and a wonderful mineral scent that rises after a light rain. We meandered muddily upwards, newly found knobbly sticks in hand, the occasional birch gleaming at us from between the mossy beeches. Tiny yellow leaves twinkling brightly in the dusky shade above.

A few brave mushrooms poked their round heads above the thick leaf carpet, protected from the November frosts - but we are not mushroom-aficionados and left them to someone more knowledgeable lest we regret a mistaken identification.

Half way up the hill, someone had thoughtfully tied a piece of rope to a sturdy branch jutting over a hollow. Fin leaped onto the simple seat with a look of pure joy and swung around in circles, pushing his feet against the trunk for leverage. His eyes and teeth shone brilliantly in the gloom as he sent peals of laughter tumbling away and echoing back again in the deep quiet.

After a couple of mango stops we made it to the very top and stood on the flat plateau, catching our breath, feeling our hearts thud warmly against thick winter clothing. The sun had sunk below the horizon already, leaving a rosy blush all along the distant hills. When we looked back a few minutes later, night was already on the way, casting a slatey shadow on the clouds. Fin was glad we had bought the torches.

Down we went, over the other side, watching the sky turn gold and picking our way gingerly through bracken and gorse to the foot of the hill. As night crept in around us, Fin started to feel a little uncertain and sought a hand to hold. An owl hooted out across the valley and we stopped to listen, holding our breath a little. Up above us a bat stole silently in and out of the trees, turning sharply at each end of an invisible loop. We stood spellbound.

'would now be a reasonable time to turn on my torch?' asked Finley in a hopeful voice.

Yes, now was the very time - so Fin bounced on ahead, turning every now and then to shine the torch in our eyes and temporarily blind us, whilst offering a running commentary on every root and muddy patch to come.

Eventually we completed the circle, stowed muddy boots and headed back home - Fin brandishing a new and perfect wizarding staff with just the right amount of wobble and a useful knot for resting your hand on between spells, munching contentedly on the last of the mango.

It was already late and supper time was calling. I wanted something that reminded me of that bronze hued late autumn walk, something light and yet comforting, sweet and mildly spiced, with a touch of green. So just over half an hour later we were tucking into warm squash salad in a cinnamon scented kitchen, whilst Finley explained something in very great detail - using drawings and hand gestures for emphasis.

That walk seemed to symbolise our journey into wintertime. The expansive golden sky of autumn making way for the dusky shadows of winter. A time to huddle round the fire, hold hands and enjoy the comfort of cosy family time. A little hibernation into which we gratefully go with our torches at the ready, scarfs wrapped tight.......

You don't have to walk to the top of a very steep hill in order to enjoy this salad, but I can recommend a walk at twilight with a small boy and a torch.

Warm Spiced Squash Salad (serves 4-6)



This would be a great dish to serve with some slow cooked meat, or a quickly roasted piece of beef, pink and juicy, carved into thin slices.

1 1/2lb squash - peeled and de-seeded weight - approx one small butternut or celebration squash
good slosh of cold pressed vegetable oil
couple pinches of salt
2 tsp ground cumin
1 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
couple of large pinches of black pepper or cayenne
4 cloves of garlic
a couple of handfuls of flat leaved parsley leaves
1 pomegranate
lemon juice to taste

preheat the oven to 180C fan assisted, 190C if not

Chop squash into approximately 2cm cubes. Chop the garlic finely.

Into a mixing bowl put the chopped squash, garlic, spices, salt and a good slosh of oil - enough to coat everything lightly. Smoosh together with your hands - or a spoon if you are more refined. Tip onto a large flat tray and spread into a single layer - you may need two to get everything into one layer.

Bake for about 20-25 mins, until soft and starting to crisp around the edges. Set aside to cool a little.

Chop parsley roughly and set aside.

Chop pomegranate in half and beat it over a large bowl with the flat of a wooden spoon until all the seeds have dropped out. Keep turning it to get at a fresh section of seeds, and try not to hit your hand! Pick out any bits of membrane that fall in the bowl as they are bitter.

To assemble the salad, put the warm squash on a pretty flat serving plate and sprinkle the parsley over it. Then scatter the pomegranate seeds over the parsley and squeeze on some lemon juice. Voila!

Eat warm or room temperature, but not chilled - yuck, chilled squash.....

Sloe, Apple and Rose Syllabub

This post is a little late, I'm afraid I have been rather busy this month and found that the days slipped into weeks and then, well you know the rest. It is my contribution to 'Go Ahead Honey it's Gluten Free', the gluten free food event started by yours truly, and carried aloft by the great and good of the gluten free blogging world. Every month we are all delighted and amazed by the gorgeous dishes that flow in.

Vittoria of Deliciously Gluten Free was our gracious host this month. The theme she chose was indigenous food, something that had me scratching my head and wondering what to do with a gastronomic heritage that includes such illustrious dishes as; spotted dick, toad in the hole and sago pudding. But I must have had my thinking cap on slightly askew, because when I adjusted the jaunty angle during my ruminations, I remembered that old fashioned dessert, syllabub. Syllabub has been testing the cream beating arm of many a cook since the middle ages, when milk maids are rumoured to have milked their cow directly into a glass of sweet wine, creating a creamy, alcoholic frothy delight with each squeeze. Soon enough cooks were using all sorts of alcohol and opting for cream, that would sit in a frothy crown atop the sweetened alcohol below. Modern syllabubs tend to have more of the fool about them as we have lost our taste for cream floating on wine. A syllabub is generally light, airy and spiked with a healthy back note of alcohol.

Yes, I knew just what to do and how to showcase the flavours of autumn in a light and airy posset, that fulfilled all briefs, gluten free, SCD, low salicylate, local and seasonal - oh my!

As I follow SCD, I need to ferment any dairy for 24 hours to eliminate the lactose. So I made this syllabub with 24 hour creme fraiche. I used goats cream, which is why the syllabub does not billow airily out of the glasses - goats cream holds less air than cows cream due to its structure. If you also follow SCD, first make your creme fraiche - if not, just buy some full fat creme fraiche, or make this with double cream.

Because Finley needs a low salicyllate diet, I chose golden delicious apples for the juice, which I juiced myself - use any pressed English apple juice if you are not similarly constrained.

I just happened to have some SCD sloe gin (sweetened with honey) whiling away the months until Christmas, in a kitchen cupboard - if you have some too then use that. Otherwise, brandy, sherry or rose schnapps would be delicious too. Anyone following SCD can use dry white wine with a little extra honey, plain vodka or gin for the alcohol part, but not brandy, sherry or traditional sloe gin.

The rest is simple, just beat until your arm feels ready to fall off - or use an electric whisk and save your arm for spooning. Serve sprinkled with rose petals or toasted hazelnuts and maybe some little hazel butter cookies on the side.

Sloe, Apple and Rose Syllabub makes 6 glasses

While rosewater may seem to be a very middle eastern thing, it was in common use in England right up until the Victorian era. Maybe those stiff lipped Victorians heard that it soothes the heart, or makes the taster remember an evening spent in a rose garden, or a flower pressed to the nose of a flushed cheeked girl? Roses are completely indigenous to England and rose water is made here as well as in the far east, distilled from deeply scented roses that catch the dew and tea roses that joyfully give up their scent to the mild English summer in a most un-Victorian way.

50ml sloe gin, sweet wine, dry white wine (sweetened with honey), sherry or brandy

4 tsp rosewater

4 heaped tsp English set honey, or 6 tsp English runny honey

200ml pressed apple or pear juice

400ml full fat creme fraiche, or double cream (add 2 teaspoons of lemon juice to apple mixture)

If you use set honey then melt it very gently until liquid, leave to cool for a few minutes and then mix everything else except cream/creme fraiche into the honey. For runny honey, do the same, just don't melt it first.

Pour or spoon the cream/creme fraiche into a large bowl with steep sides (or you will be covered with tiny cream polka dots like I was). Beat with an electric whisk until it starts to become a little thicker and frothy. Add 1/4 of the juice/rose mixture and beat until it is absorbed, then add another quarter and so on, beating between each addition. 

Continue beating until the mixture is billowy and light, but don't let it go too far into stiff whipped cream. If you use goats cream then you may have to be content with slightly runny and light. Don't let the cream start to separate. If it starts to look at all grainy, stop straight away or you will have some very interesting butter on your hands.

When it's just right, spoon into pretty glasses and sprinkle rose petals or chopped hazels on top. Bring to the table whilst marvelling that something so reminiscent of summer can be conjured in moments from the fruits of Autumn.

Vittoria will be posting the round up any day now here, you can also check out who will be our host for November/December, should you be inspired to participate.