It seems somewhat strange now to continue this blog unabated. To carry on writing about food at a time when it's availability seems to be in a bit of a delicate position. Since my post last week, the COVID-19 situation has become somewhat more alarming and so, to augment the Taylor Swift refrain, the hoarders gon' hoard-hoard-hoard. I want to re-affirm that this blog isn't going to start crafting "recipes for stockpiling" nor am I going to alter my "cook what you feel" approach as much as is possible. Let's keep it business as usual, wherever we can.
Try as we might, though, the food we make is still shaped by circumstance - which I will continue to jump at the chance to mention, as if it had never been said before. Yesterday evening, I improvised a Pear Brandy Polenta Cake, which does seem like an unlikely thing for me to produce, even regardless of the onerous pandemic cloud on the horizon.
If your eyes incurred a narrowing upon seeing the inclusion of pear brandy then please do know that there is a story behind this; one that involves more than just me purchasing a bottle of pear brandy. Someone I know, let's call them James, was clearing out a storage cupboard at the university they work in. While clearing it out, they happened to come across a bottle of Poire William Eau de Vie, which is essentially brandy made from Williams pear (giving fruit a name makes it sound distinguished, however do note that Williams is the most common non-Asian variety of pear). The bottle then came into the possession of our flat.
Neither I, nor flatmates-of-the-blog Owen and Rebecca are particular connoisseurs of fine alcohols. Most of the time, our interpretation of a fun drinking experience is to get the 3-for-£1 deal of Old Jamaica sodas at Tesco and have a can each with dinner (Owen has ginger beer, Rebecca has cream soda and I have grape soda, for anyone who was interested). With this shared disposition, it wasn't immediately evident what exactly we should do with comparatively highfalutin, 40% proof spirit. In the throes of ignorance, and with a willingness to please our guest of the week (hi, friend-of-the-blog Ellen, we miss you already!) chilled four shot glasses, and walked the road of the straight shot; ironically, for four people who self-identify as different shades of queer.
Let's just say that this experience was primarily defined by retching. Convinced that we had just poured unfiltered ethanol into our yielding gullets, there wasn't a lot of love among us for the astringent liquor. There was the merest remnant of a pear taste concealed within the distillation, but in the same manner that nail polish remover may taste vaguely reminiscent of a pear drop. Given our disgust, and also that pears are a symbol of immortality, there was a compulsion to pour the remains of the bottle from our fifth floor balcony as a libation to the Gods. However, I was not yet ready to concede that this could have some use. Plus, it's pretty difficult to justify libations in a no-waste and increasingly atheistic world.
Fortunately, there was a recipe that I'd had in my head for a while to make, which comes from the blog The Wednesday Chef which is an Apple Cake adapted from Dorie Greenspan's book Around My French Table which is spiked with a shot of dark rum or bourbon, depending on what you have around. I didn't make this recipe, but it put me on the path towards a cake with a simple flavour profile, scented with pear and imbibed with the liquor in question.
My initial idea underwent a couple of adaptations; I reduced the amount of flour I originally planned to use and added in some polenta for a moist graininess. This was just for preference, yet the other amendment arose from necessity. None of the shops around us had any eggs available to buy (or if they did they were prohibitively expensive). Though I'm confused about the effectiveness of eggs for a long-term stockpile, it seemed that they had all been bought up in the ongoing Coronavirus panic. Now, I have to credit Owen and Ellen for heroically stepping in here to help make a cup of apple sauce to replace the eggs I planned on using. Ellen peeled and chopped and Owen stewed while I creamed together my butter and sugar; what a dynamic team we made. On the other side of this decision, I can report that it lended a pretty luscious and mildly perfumed fruitiness to the finished product.
So, what does it say when you can't source a single egg, yet have a £40 bottle of Eau de Vie to hand? Seems very bougie, yet probably sums up the response to the 2020 pandemic in London. At least I can claim that my part in this situation was entirely accidental!
While my recipe below does indeed specify pear brandy as the spirit of choice, that is because it was what I used. However, in good faith I cannot quite bring myself to recommend going out and buying a bottle for the purposes of making this cake, even if it is incredible in it's loveliness. Do not fear, I will suggest alternatives, and hopefully you'll have something around. The worst case scenario is that you leave out the alcohol, and the cake's flavour will be a little bit more straightforward; it will still be very enjoyable, that's a promise! Due to my lack of a drinks cupboard, I'm very reluctant to commit to recipes that call for alcohol - I understand those of a similar position.
One last note - do not be alarmed by the longer-than-average baking time. The texture of this cake is very even. The sides are barely-more cooked than the inside of a cake, and a knife glides through it like the deftest of figure skaters. This requires a lower temperature and a longer cooking time. I promise you, this cake is worth waiting for! On that note, this cake is also even better eaten the morning after it's been baked. Was that an endorsement of eating cake for breakfast? I'll let you decide.
Pear Brandy Polenta Cake
Preparation time: 20 minutes
Cooking time: 70-75 minutes
Ingredients
250g unsalted butter
250g caster sugar
250g of apple sauce
140g of polenta
200g of flour
2 tbsp pear brandy
2-3 Conference pears
2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
Method
Preheat your oven to 160 C for gas ovens, or 140 C for fan assisted ovens. Meanwhile, grease a round, deep sided (and spring form, if possible) cake pan, before lining the bottom of the pan with baking parchment.
Cut butter into small cubes and place into a large measuring bowl. Soften the butter, if necessary, before adding sugar to the bowl. Cream the butter and sugar together with a electric or a manual whisk until light and fluffy. When this is done, swap the whisk for a wooden spoon and stir in the apple sauce and the pear brandy until combined thoroughly.
Sift the flour, polenta, salt and baking powder into the mixture and stir until combined. Set the bowl aside for a moment.
Remove the top and the bottom ends from two of the pears and peel them, before cutting into quarters and removing the cores. Thinly slice then into long strips, and arrange them radiating in a circular shape outward from the middle of the cake tin, overlapping each other slightly. If this isn't perfect (mine certainly wasn't) then it will just add to the rustic French farmhouse charm of the bake. If the two pears don't cover the pan completely, use the third as well.
Once the pears have all been arranged, very carefully spoon the cake mixture on top of them. Smooth and level the top of the cake mixture by rotating the pan while scraping the top of the spatula across it, slowly moving inward towards the centre. It's important to make sure that the cake is level, as the cake is baked upside down.
Bake the cake for 70-75 minutes, before removing to cool in the tin for 10 minutes. Very carefully flip the cake out of the tin and on a cooling rack and wait for it to cool completely before cutting into slices and serving.
Notes & Adjustments
There are quite a few different spirits that could be added to this instead of the pear brandy. Dark rum or bourbon would be good (as specified in the recipe from The Wednesday Chef) however the flavour would domineer more, so reduce this to 1 tbsp.
You could also opt not to use any alcohol in the cake. If you do this, I would suggest adding 1 tsp of vanilla or almond extract. Alternatively, you could have it without flavourings.
If you want a slightly nuttier, more versatile taste then opt to replace 70g of polenta with the same quantity of ground almonds.
Apples can be used instead of pears, but try to use a variety which has a light and not too acidic taste, such as Golden Delicious or Pink Lady.
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