Posts Tagged ‘ginger beer’

A Perfect Weekend Breakfast

November 29, 2009

With my mouth stuffed full of warm bread as I write, I think there can be few other pleasures on a rolling-into-winter Sunday morning than  your own fresh Dampfnudeln.

It was a bit touch-and-go at times, sometimes because a step was missing from the recipe and sometimes for other reasons (including a dinner out at the home of some friends when the dough was rising). But I made it in the end. I did one batch last night and another this morning. Mmmm. Unfortunately, it was too late by that time to post something last night.

Dampfnudeln, or German Puddings

INGREDIENTS: 1 lb. of flour, 1/4 lb. of butter, 5 eggs, 2 small tablespoons of yeast, 2 tablespoons of finely-pounded sugar {regular or icing sugar will do}, milk, a very little salt.

This essentially breaks down into 4 (simple) steps.  The timings given are mostly mine:

1. Let the flour, yeast and milk mix rise for 30 minutes

2. Combine above with the other ingredients and leave to rise in a warm place (I switched the oven on for a minute, let it warm slightly, then turned it off and popped the covered bowl in there) for 45 minutes

3. Roll into chubby 1-inch balls and place (not touching) in a thick-bottomed, butter-slathered dish (I used a glass casserole dish).  Sprinkle with milk, add more milk (see comments below for quantity) and sprinkle with sugar.  Rise 45 minutes

4. Bake in a ‘brisk oven’ (I interpreted this as 200 degrees C) for 25 minutes, or until liquid has just evaporated and the buns are brown.   Gobble down with jam, honey or butter (if you can wait that long)

In the abridged edition, Step 2 is missing from the ‘Time’ information (Isabella’s advice about how long everything should take).  The quantity of milk is also sketchy (1/4 pint is mentioned, and she later mentions ‘a little more warm milk’ (I found this to be up to 2 tablespoons) and later, ‘sufficient milk to cover them’ (see note below).

This may be an editing oversight, but I have a funny feeling that it was missing in the original.  But as long as the instructions are read carefully through first (which, I confess, my eager rush to be baking something means that I don’t do this as often as I ought), then most of this can be figured out.

We were out for several hours between Steps 2 – 3, but fortunately this didn’t affect the dough (in fact, it was enthusiastically marching over the edges and looking to paint the town – or oven – red by the time we got home).

I couldn’t help but edit one step.  Once rolled into balls and placed in the dish, she says to ‘pour over sufficient milk to cover them’ and leave to further rise before baking.  I couldn’t see how this would possibly allow them to brown and the liquid to evaporate in the given space of time, so I just sprinkled them with milk and added just a couple of centimeters to the dish.

It took 25 minutes (not 10 -15) for them to bake.  The outcome is, however, mightily delicious.  I was surprised that, upon further research, the recipe doesn’t significantly differ from the modern German formula.  So she didn’t simplify or modify it for the non-German Victorian housewife.

Its relative simplicity means that I’ll be making this quite often for future weekend breakfasts.

While we were at it, we also pulled out a chilled bottle of the ginger beer last night while the first batch of Dampfnudeln (is ‘Dampfnudeln’ singular and plural?) was in the oven.  I poured two glasses with more than a touch of the jitters (“This better not kill me,” my boyfriend supportively commented).

The lid flipped off with a lustily effervescent ”phwap”, to my delight and probably to that of a Peeping Tom neighbour across the way, who just happens to be out having a smoke on his balcony whenever I’m in the kitchen, with his eyes unblinkingly focused on our kitchen window.  Perhaps he’s a secret foodie.  We’re putting up curtains today.

The ginger beer wasn’t too bad.  (“It’s not too bad,” said my boyfriend).  I couldn’t taste much ginger, more the lemon.  Perhaps I’ll add more ginger next time.  It wasn’t overly exciting, but with a drop of flavoured syrup it really livens up.

Here’s a link I found to a typical (modern) Dampfnudeln recipe for comparison:

http://www.food-from-bavaria.de/en/reg_spez/einzelprodukt.php?an=186&display_lang=en (it varies very slightly from Isabella Beeton’s, so use whichever version you prefer)

I’m off to make another batch.  Mmmm.

The complete Dampfnudeln recipe by Isabella Beeton can be found at: http://www.mrsbeeton.com/27-chapter27.html

Silver Cups and Ginger Beer

November 25, 2009

I left Dublin two years ago, where I lived for nearly 7 fabulous years.  I was only able to lug one suitcase with me to Ukraine (where I’d taken a company transfer), so most of my books and other possessions built up over the years were passed on to a local charity.

Four boxes of ‘I can’t possibly be parted from them’ books and miscellaneous items were left with a friend.  Now that I’m settled in Germany and don’t plan to go anywhere anytime soon, I arranged for their delivery to my doorstep today.

Amongst the half-forgotten items were two extremely dark objects – my silver(ish) Christening cups from 32 years earlier.  I was given them as a teenager and, with the typical teenager’s frothy disregard, the cups were tossed in a drawer and promptly forgotten until now.

As can be imagined, 32 years of neglect carries a toll.  With more nostalgia for the past than formerly, I turned to Mrs Beeton for some urgent advice about how to restore them to their former glory.

This is done by preparing clean soap-suds, using fine toilet-soap. Dip any article of gold, silver, gilt or precious stones into this lye, and dry them by brushing with a brush of soft badgers’ hair, or a fine sponge; afterwards with a piece of fine cloth, and, lastly, with a soft leather.’

With more than a little doubt about something so simple being even remotely effective, I went to work.

I used a mild natural soap from Lush.  Badgers’ hair brushes are sadly in short supply in our household, so a soft cotton cloth was called into duty instead.  Having no leather to hand except my boyfriend’s jacket, (‘’No, absolutely not, are you on crack or something?’’), a separate dry cloth took its place.

The result was unexpectedly good.  Considering the lifetime of neglect, both cups scrubbed up really well.  The filthy cloths testified to the effectiveness of the soap solution (plus a bit of elbow grease, which Mrs Beeton somehow forgot to mention).  For the first time, I can read the inscriptions and see the original colour.

A huge plus was also not having to use chemicals.  The final result isn’t perfect, but this is more down to my earlier disregard than Mrs Beeton’s recommended method of cleaning them.

While polishing away at the cups, the initial stage of Ginger Beer was quietly fermenting away in the kitchen.

Ginger Beer

Ingredients – 2 ½ lb of loaf sugar (I used raw sugar), 1 ½ oz. of bruised ginger (peel ginger and flatten slightly with a knife to release juices), 1 oz. of cream of tartar; the rind and juice of 2 lemons, 3 gallons (i.e. 13 litres) of boiling water, 2 large tablespoons of thick and fresh brewer’s yeast (I used instant yeast).

Cream of Tartar isn’t easily available in Germany, so I used a special baking powder (Weinstein Backpulver) and crossed my fingers instead.  Hopefully I end up with Ginger Beer, not Ginger Cake!

After mixing in the yeast, the mix should be left in front of the fire [radiator, out of reach of peskily curious cats] overnight.  It then has to ferment for 3 more days before being ready to drink.  Hopefully the outcome is as good as it sounds on paper – an update will follow soon.

Bottoms up!

Ginger Beer recipe: http://www.mrsbeeton.com/37-chapter37.html