to want and to knead | cardamom-cranberry spelt wreath

There is a strange familiarity about the whole ritual. It usually involves climbing into some loft or burrowing through the shed to some degree to find the Christmas tree, that we swear to replace every year. The decorations are like meeting characters from an old book you haven't read for a long time - you remember all their quirks, where you were when you first noticed them. Someone plays Christmas music, the dogs sniff in the boxes and bash the shaky tree with their tails.

A couple of years ago my dad passed the light-stringing-up altar to me. Nothing official about it, but he was travelling for longer and longer during the holidays and I was, perhaps inappropriately, deemed the most competent in this field. The lights still shine and twinkle in the evening, but I've never managed to curl them evenly round the tree like dad has, the lights themselves are so old that a few have gone out, but no one's really had the heart to buy a new set. We've been using the same decorations for as long as I can remember, the little round baubles and the intricate figurines my dad used as a kid. We are not so much of a family for tradition. We travel too much, the family as a whole is too spread out. And when I asked my parents, when I was young and these things mattered to me, they asked me what Christmas was really about. Did it have to be gifts around a tree, a big dinner, celebrated on the 25th? Or was it about the principle - the gathering with people you love, sharing food that you've made with love, giving, more than just material gifts?

It makes me wonder. This season of craziness... the crazy is everywhere. The pressure on mothers to cook a perfect turkey, to choose the best gifts for their children. The pressure on dads to put up the best outdoor lights, to earn the money to finance it all in the first place. Pressure on kids to stay cool throughout the affair, to get the best most expensive presents. Pressure on the dog to not steal the turkey from the table, dammit, and not to bark when an army of strangers rings the doorbell. Pressure on everyone to keep a good face, to laugh with family members you don't really know.

I go back to bread. We have no great expectations of the holiday, nothing to go back on, I doubt I'll make this wreath next year as a Christmas tradition. I started making my own bread some time ago, but that was after a long break from the habit. Somehow my hands remembered it, the smell of the yeast was familiar, my hands could fold and knead the dough without a second thought. It gave me something, some quiet zen, two minutes to think amid my crazy; travel prep and essays.

It's not that I don't have warm memories of Christmas, or that I have a problem with traditional holidays, I think it's great to have something to look back on. Childhood Christmas for me was lots of light, more laughs, some fun gifts that I'd play with the whole year. This year will be similar. We'll celebrate after the India trip, on January 10th. We will still have the lights, and still have the spirit.

I understand that lots of people are scared of working with yeast but I promise that, like the aforementioned holiday, it's also overcomplicated by most people! Just make sure it's really puffy after proofing time, otherwise the yeast is dead and it will also kill the recipe. Also, the temperature of the water is important - I found a sneaky method to do this, see the recipe notes if that will help you. As for the swirly wreath pattern - I tried to get photos, but they weren't great so I will direct you to this site I trawled the internet for, which quite clearly shows how to get that pretty pattern going.The bread is gently sweet, a nice contrast to the sharp berries and fragrant cardamom - it's more the kind of bread for eating chunks plain, rather than slicing and slathering with jam. The best kind of bread, I'd say. It's kind of cozy but light, which is how Christmas should be. Whether it's the traditional kind on the 25th, or something a bit unconventional like ours, wishing you the brightest, warmest holidays with people + pets you love. xx

UPDATE 2022:
I initially hosted my blog on Wordpress and when I moved over to a new platform some recipes didn’t display correctly. I’m working on finding this recipe again :)

a toast to you | cardamom + pistachio layer cake

I had every intention of writing this really long, heartfelt post and I actually started it. Then I thought about whose day I was celebrating and I went back and deleted it all, because that really isn't mum's thing. For her birthday, every year, I'll go into the card store and look up and down the mother's birthday card section, picking them up, grimacing, putting them down. She's not really the one for cute rabbits; not for the low-brow jokes about getting older, never in a million years would I send her a note about 'putting your feet up". Last year, I settled on a card with a toaster on the front that read 'Mum - you're the best thing since sliced bread'.

Is it weird that bread reminds me of her? Bread. There's comfort in a sliced loaf, something familiar. In that every piece, whatever the kind, whether it's dark and seeded or white and airy, it's kind of known. And that's what Mum is like. No matter where I am, where we are, what I ask, she stays the same. Sure, we all have off days, but somehow she manages to push that off-ness away, so that she can always do what's best for me. There's something unselfish about a slice of bread. Bread tastes good on it's own, it's a vehicle for sweet jam, or you can get a nourishing meal out of it when the loaf is wholemeal spelt. She is the most generous person I know. Generous is an under statement, I sometimes wonder if she knows how to think about herself. She'll go in the car for hours, driving unknown darkened highways in February sleet when buses leave us at airports. She's sat in the freezing car while we're at the gym, she has a long commute every day since she wanted us to reach school in half an hour. I always thank her, when she does something, but it's like thanking your piece of toast. You regret the words as soon as they come out of your mouth. The toast will never reply, but with Mum, the words are just inadequate.

When we fight, I cry, she hates it. Most of the time I'm not even upset because I care so much about what a actually led to the fight, but more because I hate the fight in the first place. She says everything because she knows it's the best for me. I wonder where she can find it - find the energy, the brain capacity to keep us all afloat. Every morning, she remembers things. Call your insurance, I've left money on the desk, don't forget a house key, I've called a taxi, there's stuff in the wash, but leave it, I'll sort it when I'm home. One breath. As I've grown up I've come to roll my eyes at that stereotypic 'super-mum' (super-mom?) image that's drawn everywhere. Why do they have to be yoga teachers wearing leggings, sipping kombucha in Venice Beach, while completing the school run and loading three washes? Or otherwise do they have to be single mothers who've adopted three abused kids and now have started a charity? Or must they wear power suits and killer heels, and have men shaking at board meetings? Why can't we just acknowledge those that are like my mum? They're the ones who make the world go round. No killer heels (anymore. I've seen her wedding photos) and god forbid the leggings and green juice. But here's the kid who's never gone to school without a cooked breakfast, never been the only one without a certain brand, been the only one to eat a homemade sandwich at lunch. And she never complained, never asked for the board room or the board walk, she ate her toast, fed us ours, we've laughed a lot.

She often thinks she's made mistakes as a parent, which I guess all mothers do. I'll never agree with her. I am my own person as much as I am hers. If she hadn't been the person who she is, we'd all have been left without a lifeline. The anchor of the rocky family ship; the lighthouse showing us where to go, the winds that pushed us in the right decision, the sails that drove us there. The captain, but also the navigator, probably feeling like the deckhand and the lookout. I'll never be able to thank her enough. What's a baguette without the seeds? Happy birthday Mum.

So yesterday was my mum's birthday. I think everyone struggles to find the right words and the right gifts for their mothers... you know them so well but in a way you wonder what they really need because they never say! I figured mine needed cake, so I put a few of her favourite things together and then this beauty emerged. There's a subtle exotic hint from nutmeg and cardamom, deepened by toasted pistachio. A combination of almond meal and brown rice flour keep the cake really light and with great structure for a gluten free cake. The frosting isn't very sweet, and if you're suspicious, doesn't taste overly coconutty at all. A little tropical, but pleasantly light and sticky, it's not the very thick type so doesn't distract from cake loveliness. It's a very simple but special cake, which I think is the way my mum would like it. I know she would've been happy with a wheat floury, butter filled cake, or none at all, but this is one of the few ways I can give to her, so there you have it. Hope you find a reason to make this one soon, it's not overly festive, but wouldn't be out of place on a holiday table. Enjoy the lights and cheer. Hugs xo

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CARDAMOM + PISTACHIO CAKE

//gluten free + dairy free // makes one 2 layer 6inch/15cm cake

A subtly exotic layer cake with fragrant cardamom and nutmeg. Garnish this light cake with crunchy pistachios and not-too-sweet coconut frosting if you'd like something more fancy.

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1/2 cup (50g) almond meal*
1/2 cup (60g) brown rice flour
2 tablespoons arrowroot starch**
1.5 teaspoons baking powder
2 teaspoons freshly ground cardamom
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 cup (50g) extra virgin coconut oil, soft/ room temperature
3/4 cup (120g) light muscavado sugar (see the notes on my blondie recipe for more info about this sugar)
2 large free range eggs
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
1/2 cup (120ml) coconut milk

// for the coconut frosting
1/3 cup (80ml) full fat coconut milk
1/3 cup (40g) powdered cane sugar***
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground cardamom

TO DO

preheat the oven to 180’C, 350’F. oil & line 2 6inch/15cm round cake pans, dust with flour and set aside.

start with the cake. In a medium bowl, combine the flours, arrowroot, baking powder, salt and spices, whisk so they’re combined. set aside.

in a large bowl (or the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment) add the softened coconut oil and the sugar. With a hand mixer/stand mixer on low, combine the two till the oil is churned up into sugary clumps (make sure the oil is fairy soft, or there’ll be a mess here). This is like creaming. Once combined, add the eggs one at a time, beat on medium-low till combined; add the vanilla. In three additions, add the dry mix, one third at a time. After each dry addition, add 1/3 of the coconut milk, each time beating till just combined.

once mixed, pour the batter into the prepared pans. if you’d like them very even, weigh your large bowl before you start, then do some math with the weight of the pans.

Bake for 25-27 means, till a skewer inserted into the middle of the cakes comes out clean and the top is light golden. Allow the cakes to cool 20 minutes in the pans, then invert them onto a rack and cool completely. You can either frost immediately (which I don’t recommend, it’s easier to frost a cool cake which sheds less crumbs) or wrap tightly in plastic wrap and refrigerate for a day, or freeze for longer.

// for the frosting
combine all the ingredients and whisk together well. It will not be very thick – this is for the drip effect on the cake, that’s fine. leave in the refrigerator till you want to frost the cake, then allow it to come to room temperature and it will loosen up again, or add a splash of coconut milk.

// to assemble
Place a little dollop of frosting on the plate/cake stand you finally would like to present your cake with, to hold the cake in place. Place one layer of cake, flat side down, over the frosting, push it into place. Cut 3 rectangles of parchment paper (or kitchen towel) and slide under the cake, so that no crumbs/frosting fall on your serving plate.
Spread a thin layer of frosting – about 4 tablespoons – over the top of the first layer, up to the edges is fine. Lay the next cake on top gently, pat it to secure into place. The decorating is really easy with this more rustic style – just add about another 4 tablespoons frosting to the top of the cake, smooth downwards over the sides onto the parchment. Make sure the top is fairly well covered, with some gaps on the sides. Sprinkle over the pistachios and remove the parchment which would’ve caught the drips.
Leftover cake can be stored in an airtight container in the fridge for about 3 days, though the frosting will firm up a bit. Still tastes great 

notes

*almond meal is the darling of gluten free baking – it is essentially ground almonds (the name it goes under in the UK) and the high protein and fat of the nuts help contribute great structure and tenderness to your goodies. You may come across almond flour which would work too – in almond flour the nuts are blanched, skinned and ground; in almond meal they are ground with their skin. In most cases this can be a direct switch, but almond flour is usually more finely ground, so if this is crucial to a recipe (madeleines for example) a switch wouldn’t work. Almond flour is often more expensive, but almond meal can be made from whole almonds ground in a food processor.
** arrowroot powder (starch) is just a starch, similar to cornstarch or tapioca starch. It’s often used as a thickener for pies, jams etc, but in gluten free baking it helps with texture and cohesion. You can substitute another starch, but I think you could omit it all together and not notice too much. I’ve never tried – I usually add a little since it’s always worked. You can find it at most supermarkets or online.
** to make powdered cane sugar, add about 1/2 cup (100g or so) turbinado/cane sugar to a food processor and process till fine and floury. You can of course just use confectioner’s/powdered sugar, which will also be whiter. But you know me.

Last note: If you are looking for a more traditional frosting (cream cheese or a buttercream maybe), and more decorating tips, I’d recommend the Vanilla Bean Baking Book. Sarah Kieffer blogs at The Vanilla Bean Blog and her cakes are gorgeous – I remember seeing a cardamom frosting on the site (there is also one in the beautiful book).

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more cakes

almond-vanilla bean layer cake

lucky enough | dark chocolate + cardamom rye scones

The doors and windows were open from 5am but it had been 21 celsius overnight. The cushions lived out on the patio table, the stove stayed switched off, the oven was given a wide berth. The tap was ran till the water came out ice cold, fans whirred all day, Prune and Suzi panted in the shade. The strawberry plants were heavy with red fruit, the ground finally dry, we could wear good shoes to walk the dogs. In the middle of the day it was simply too much to sit in the sun, I'd sit in my room in front of the fan, watching the curtains flap in the semblance of a light breeze. 2016. The year of the heatwave, though I think we were lucky enough to have three or four in a row.

Four weeks or so of proper warmth, no rain; no storms, no fog. My sister makes (beautiful) scrapbooks and she has a screenshot of the weather forecast from her phone; 27 degrees and allsunshine for the rest of the week. We'd been commissioned by our parents to paint the fence of the front garden and rather than the wet and wind we expected, we had cloudless skies in a technicolor blue. From the little orchard in the front garden, in the heat of the afternoon there was some kind of a hush. It was like something out of Huckleberry Finn, in the distance was the soft thump of a ball being kicked around by kids playing in the fields, a farm dog barking on a rambling country lane, the occasional cough of a caravan taking tourists to the sea, church-bells singing for the hour. Picking strawberries from the garden, making salads with feta and nectarines, eating dripping ripe peaches over the sink.

That real heat eventually petered out, leaving behind a sky that was light teal painted with streaks of gray, occasional rainstorms and temperatures that hovered vaguely in the mid-teens day and night. It was nature's transitional phase, as frustrating as waiting for a web page to open: wishing you'd not closed the tab in the first place, but since you had, willing the new screen to appear. Cars and rooms were still too hot but the wind was cool, it was too wet for most shoes but not cold enough for boots and some shops decided it was time to break out the Christmas decorations. The fall deserves some sympathy as a season, especially in Europe, where the trees take their time erupting into golds and ambers, storms pick up and the nights start drawing in. But when it arrived, this year it came with a bang. It was as if someone had opened the door of a very stuffy room, letting in a strong breeze that whirled right through us, throwing everything up in the air. It was the start of the new year, my first few days of university flew in as the leaves started to pile up. It was time for the supermarkets to retrieve the squash, for slippers in the house, for my warm glow in the corner of the kitchen. It was time for scones, time to preheat the oven again.

Scones! I didn't really 'introduce' my recipe in the last post for the loaf, but I thought I would this time. Rye flour isn't gluten free but is lower in gluten than whole-wheat flour, making these scones a bit delicate but it has such a nice flavor (and color). Dark chocolate and cardamom are an unlikely but amazing combination, slightly exotic and that smell. Just try them for the smell. And the fact that they're a lot easier than normal scones! There are some changes you can make to tailor them to various diets, they're in the recipe notes. I now establish how much I love scones, and hope you try them too. Lots of autumnal hugs xx

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dark chocolate and cardamom rye scones

// dairy free. Makes 6 medium scones

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1 cup (110g) rye flour
1/4 cup whole spelt flour (40g)
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground cardamom
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/8teaspoon salt (that's a pinch)
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 tablespoons (30ml) maple syrup
1 tablespoon coconut oil, melted
3 tablespoons (45g)  yogurt of choice (I used goat's milk yogurt)
2 tablespoons (30ml) milk of choice (or replace milk and yogurt with 1/4c or 60ml full fat coconut milk)
1 free range egg
50g/1.8oz dark chocolate, coarsely chopped (about a heaped 1/3 cup when coarsely chopped)

Preheat the oven to 180'C, 350'F. Line a baking tray with parchment paper.

In a large bowl, combine the flours, baking powder, salt and spices. Set aside.

In a smaller bowl, add the vanilla extract, maple syrup, oil, yogurt & milk; stir well to combine. Add the egg and beat till it's smooth, pale and creamy.

Add the wet mix to the dry mix and slowly, gently combine. It will be pretty thick and take some time to come together, that's ok, but if it's very dry add another tablespoon of milk. -As the dough starts to come together, fold through the chopped chocolate

Cover a work surface with parchment paper (or flour it pretty well) and gather the dough into your hands. Gently squash/shape it into a vague oval, about 9cm/3.5inches thick and 18cm/7in long. If there is any chocolate left in the bowl, push it into the dough (the more the better, right?)

Using a pastry wheel, divide the dough in two, then each half into 3 triangles to form 6 scones

Place on the parchment paper, well spaced, and bake for about 15-18 minutes, till the tops are golden. The skewer trick works for these too - if it's inserted into the middle and comes out clean, you're good. Cool on a wire rack. The scones keep in an airtight container for about 3 days. 

Notes

I list yogurt and milk as ingredients and by all means, use dairy yogurt and milk, or plant based yogurt and milk. I also think that 1/4 cup (60ml) full fat coconut milk would work instead, the milk & yogurt give the tenderness that butter and cream would traditionally. I always use freshly ground cardamom and 70% dark chocolate. Try not to rough the dough around too much so they stay nice and soft and fluffy and amazing.

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more chocolate

almond butter blondies

chocolate + cherry rye oatmeal cookies

pear-cocoa muffins