Tag Archives: dessert

Recipe: Haagen-Dazs Strawberry Cheesecake Loaf

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A cake loaf with the flavour of fancy ice cream – what more could you want?

I first saw the idea for this on Quora, and it fits firmly into the ‘cooking hacks’ notion of recipes, what with having three / four ingredients, and taking about 3 minutes to prepare. The result was a pretty successful, though very crumbly cake – but the short cut doesn’t deliver what you might hope for from a fancier recipe.

“A cake loaf with the flavour of fancy ice cream – what more could you want?”

I’ll probably try it again, with another flavour of ice cream – probably one with more solid ‘chunks’ that will add some interesting variety. Oh, and probably a flavour with a chocolatey bent.

I didn’t add any salt to my cake, and that was a mistake, since it was a little blander than I’d hoped for. Obviously if you go for a saltier ice cream (I’m thinking e.g. cookie dough) you might want to hold off, but I’ll be adding some next time.

Quora suggested that you could mix the flour with half the ice cream, and then fold in the rest of the ice cream to create ‘streaks’ of flavour veined through the cake. I found that half the ice cream produced a very dry dough that you wouldn’t be able to fold anything into, so I didn’t bother in the end. Your mileage may vary.

So here’s the recipe – simple as:

Recipe: Haagen-Dazs Strawberry Cheesecake Loaf
 
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A moist, super-simple loaf cake that takes about 3 minutes to prepare. You can (probably) use any ice cream flavour. The cake should rise, crack and brown a bit, producing a light but slightly moist, doughy cake. Obviously stating the flour by volume rather than weight is a cardinal sin of baking, but since the whole idea is to be super quick and simple (and scale easily) this is the way to do it!
Author:
Recipe type: Dessert
Cuisine: Cake
Serves: 4-10
Ingredients
  • 1x 500ml pot Strawberry Cheesecake Haagen Dazs
  • 400ml self-raising flour
  • ½ tsp salt - optional, but advised for all but saltiest ice creams
  • 2 tsp vegetable oil, or butter, to grease
Instructions
  1. Preheat oven to 175C (450F).
  2. Allow the ice cream to pretty much melt. (I used the 40 minute trip home from the supermarket to achieve this.)
  3. Pour ice cream into a mixing bowl.
  4. Fill the now-empty pot four-fifths full with flour, stir in salt, and mix into ice cream with a metal spoon until mostly non-lumpy.
  5. Oil / butter loaf tin until well-greased.
  6. Bake for 45-50 minutes, until a cocktail stick stuck into the centre comes out clean.

 

Baked Alaska at The Lawn Bistro

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BakedAlaskaFlambeing

So I’ve a confession: I’ve never eaten baked Alaska!

That does mean that I’ve long known the ‘trick’ to the dish, which slightly diminishes the surprise of its cold-on-the-inside baked-on-the-outside magic. But The Lawn Bistro adds an additional flourish: pouring over liquor and flambéing the meringue at the table. This resulted in some impressive flames, heat, and a deliciously tart caramelised exterior.

“The Lawn Bistro adds an additional flourish”

We’ve rather painted ourselves into a corner with one of our principal rules of Chowdown Showdown Londontown – namely that ‘size matters’, so we each have to have one of the particular dish. Largely the problem with this has been that it means you end up with two large bowls of lacklustre cabbage (sorry Rasa and your Thoran!), but this can also be a problem when we come across sharing platters, and are forced to down the lot. This time, however, we nudged the rules in our favour. Having asked the waitress whether the dish (on the menu as for two) would serve three (since Alex had joined us in this outing), we opted to have a single portion. This was definitely the right decision: how they could expect two to manage this I don’t know!

To return to the spectacle of the fire: this restaurant does aim to impress. I really struggled to choose starters and mains, switching repeatedly between options, every one of which had some stand-out parts among a long-list of ingredients. And, indeed, the food was delicious, if risking allowing the best part to be drowned out among a plethora of other contributions.

Sadly, the Alaska didn’t especially stand out for me. Whilst it was certainly a reward to sweet-toothed eaters who’d made it as far as dessert, it rather lacked depth. The ice cream was plain-old-vanilla and the meringues plain-old-egg-white and plain-old-sugar. I was left feeling they could have gone an extra mile, but settled for just sloping over the line. At least I’ve reached the having-eaten-baked-Alaska winning post.

Friands at Lantana

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You may have noticed the proliferation of New Zealand coffee shops in London. “No sir, we don’t serve lah-tays. Would you like a flat white?”

“Biting into them, you get a delicious marzipanny-macaroony nut hit”

Apparently friands are to New Zealanders as teacakes are to Brits. At least, they would be if the British still ate teacakes. These (originally French) almond buns, a close cousin of the financier, arrive in pretty oval shapes, with inclusions (at least at Lantana) of a variety of different toppings. We dutifully try the pistacio and pear varieties. On another occasion, I saw date and hazelnut versions, so your mileage may vary, though I suspect all the different ones on offer are delicious.

They remind me of my mum’s almond cake, made without flour to be kosher for passover, though these are dried and less pudding-like. Biting into them, you get a delicious marzipanny-macaroony nut hit. The icing sugar on top is unnecessary (is it ever not?), as they have a deep sweetness that makes me think I couldn’t manage another without feeling very nauseous. That said, as an indulgent (second) breakfast [we arrived here right after the Turkish Eggs as Kopapa], one certainly hits the spot.

I think it’s fairly likely that these would be easy to replicate at home, but with the fantastic coffee (as you might expect from any of these Kiwi joints), and the other treats on offer – including savouries – I’m sure I’ll be back.

Tarte Tatin at Galvin Bistrot de Luxe

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Having made the rookie error of opting for Mother’s Day to eat a Chowdown Showdown dish, and without even booking months in advance, we ended up in Galvin Bistrot de Luxe. It turned out to be not such an error, since they were serving a three course set menu for much less than ordering three courses would normally cost a la carte, including in the evening (it appears people take their mothers out for lunch, not dinner).

“As French as apple pie”

Okay, so going to a French bistro and ordering roast beef with Yorkshire pudding and roast root vegetables was a mistake. Especially when the restaurant in question takes its attempt to mimic the typically English dish so seriously that it refuses Rachael’s request for her beef to be served pretty much bleu, and instead insists we have it medium rare (and proceeds to serve it to us medium).

The Jerusalem artichoke soup with a truffle cream (and artichoke crisps!) to start was genuinely delicious, and they poured great wine as you might expect.

All of this was, of course, an irrelevance, since we’re here to judge a single dish alone – namely the tarte tatin.

“Enough to make even the harshest Great British Bake Off judge happy”

Happily, the (mischosen, but still disappointing) main was unreflective of the dessert, which was genuinely formidable. The pie was caramelised to the point of almost being burnt, which isn’t a criticism since it had developed earthy as well as sweet notes. The pastry was flaky (and not soggy) enough to make even the harshest Great British Bake Off judge happy, offering a crisp riposte to the tender apples that had bite but little resistance to a spoon.

Overall, an indulgent, comforting sweet as French as apple pie!

Malaga raisin ice-cream with Pedro Ximenez sherry at Morito

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Don’t make the mistake we did! On reading Time Out’s listing for what to eat at Morito, we misinterpreted the “Malaga raisin ice cream with Pedro Ximenez sherry” as a cheeky demand on the magazine’s part for us to construct our own hybrid dessert by ordering sherry to accompany our ice cream.

“In actual fact, it wasn’t such a bad error to make!”

On tasting the sherry it was clear that this was a pudding in itself (in a way I’ve never before appreciated of a ‘dessert wine’) – super-sweet and with an amazing raisin taste which surprised me with how little it tasted of fresh grapes. When the ice cream arrived – or rather was scooped into bowls and had a thick red-brown liquid poured over it (should I say ‘constructed’?), we realised our mistake! In actual fact, it wasn’t such a bad error to make!

And then, something extraordinary happened. After the first mouthful Rachael uttered the words ‘this is in the top ten’. Completely matter-of-fact, completely unprompted.

The ice cream was a relatively straightforward, simple offer, with a light vanilla punctuated by the punch of Malaga raisins. Complexity, richness, a shaper edge, and, frankly, a lot more sweetness was added from the shot of sherry poured over.

I don’t really rate rum and raisin as an ice cream flavour, but this raisin and sherry I could certainly get used to. In fact, this is a great dessert I might make at home, for those times when I have an elaborate starter and main and want a simple sweet as much for my cooking sanity as to avoid overpowering guests’ palates. Vital to get really good quality ice cream and a top notch (sweet!) sherry. I’ll definitely try it!

12/100 of Time Out’s recommended list

Salted Caramel Ice Cream at Oddono’s

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Ice Cream

Oddono’s is right opposite GBK, where we’d just indulged in Kiwi Burgers (another of the Chowdown Showdown list). I’d resisted the black and white malt option with my burger, since I’d known we were stopping off across the road for ice cream – so the expectations laid on this gelateria were high.

“I’ll certainly be heading back to Oddonno’s”

Like any of the new breed of London ice cream shops specialising in traditional Italian gelato, the flavours are numerous and range from the obvious – dark chocolate – to the unusual – panettone. As you might imagine, the latter is seasonal, and Oddonno’s recently announced that Salted Caramel had been promoted from occasional treat to permanent flavour. Is this a sign that Salted Caramel is now over? Rachael asserts this happened when they started selling salted caramel truffles in M&S. I can’t deny it’s a more standard pairing than even two years ago – but rightly so, they go together like cheese and pickle, like eggs and bacon, like hot dog and onion. Though not necessarily all in ice cream form!

I like it. In fact, I really like it. I made the mistake of asking for panettone with salted caramel on top, so the flavour wouldn’t be masked by the melting panettone, but the waitress took this to mean I’d like less of the salted caramel. Which was a shame, as I thought it was a stand-out flavour. Luckily, I’ve got a voucher for a litre takeaway tub, so at least half of that will be salted caramel.

What else can I say about ice cream? Well, it isn’t Gelupo, and it doesn’t have the same sense of adventure in its range. If you’re trying to impress a date you should definitely take them to Bocca’s frozen sibling. But I’ll certainly be heading back to Oddono’s. At least for another litre!

56/100 Time Out recommended dishes in London

Peanut butter and jelly sandwich at Spuntino

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There was much debate about whether this was an ice-cream sandwich. That is, before we reached Spuntino a couple of Chowdown Showdown Getsarounders were insistent that they weren’t interested in eating a plain old peanut butter and jam sandwich. In spite of my insistence, we couldn’t be totally sure until the dish was put in front of us.

“It’s funny, sweet, caloric, unsubtle… and the perfect American dessert”

Of course, the moment it arrived we got the ‘joke’, and a very witty one it is too. It’s a sandwich, and an ice-cream sandwich, and neither. ‘Bread slices’ of peanut ice-cream are sandwiched around raspberry jam (yes, it’s jelly in the American sense), with a sprinkling of peanut brittle on top.

And you know what? It’s delicious. Massively indulgent, rich, and clearly a treat. I don’t even know if I’d (rush out to) eat it again. But it’s funny, sweet, caloric, unsubtle… and the perfect American dessert. The ice-cream was moreish, melting into a creamy, nutty pool. The jam was super-sweet, tart and fresh. The brittle crunchy and chewy.

I’m eager to eat at Spuntino again, and this madcap dessert adventure has certainly made me want to see what other tricks they have up their sleeves.

28/100 best London dishes

Salted Chocolate Caramel Tart at Pizza East

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Rich. And I mean really rich. This is your traditional basically-truffles-smeared-on-pastry. But it’s far from your ordinary take on that. The salt sharpens the richness whilst contradictorily taking the edge off it. And the milky caramel adds a sweetness that punches into the richness in a so-sweet-its-almost-bitter way. I like this dish. I particularly like that the salt is sprinkled on top, adding visual contrast and shouting about its ingredients. Though I couldn’t swear there wasn’t salt in the ganache itself. A sprinkling of nuts also added an earthen flavour and gave a hint of natural goodness (wishful thinking perhaps!), and was a good addition to the plate in a way that the cream (which I mistook for ice-cream, which definitely wouldn’t be necessary) probably wasn’t.

“This struck me as as close to an objective fault with a dish as you could get”

But this dish has a problem. I don’t know if you can see from the picture, but the caramel is sandwiched on top of the pastry and below the chocolate. This meant that

  1. it oozes out the sides, and uselessly spread onto the plate from where even the most dedicated plate-clearer (and yes, that does mean me) isn’t going to rescue it and
  2. the chocolate slides about on the caramel slick, and the dessert’s integrity is compromised.

This struck me as as close to an objective fault with a dish as you could get. It was simply a mistake to stack the dish in this way. Okay, so it might take an architectural feat to avoid the problem, such as sandwiching the caramel between two, thinner layers of chocolate, but, frankly, I think it needed it. It’s like making lasagna where you decide that for effect you’ll have the pasta super-al-dente, but which has the side-effect of making the dish impossible to eat.

Perhaps I was unlucky. Maybe the chocolate was too cold, and therefore rigid. Maybe the caramel was too warm and therefore liquid. Maybe the pastry was too fresh and therefore difficult to cut through. But even so, you need to make sure that everyone who orders a dish can eat it as intended, and I’m pretty sure you weren’t supposed to eat this in the train-wreck form mine ended up in.

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I can forgive this. It was delicious. There was also too much of it – a slice half the angle would have done – but I guess you have to offer a large enough portion that diners won’t feel hard done by, even if for a second before they taste how rich it is. If Chris’ cheese plate was anything to go by, they like to be generous.

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Yes, that really is five people’s worth of cheese – at least judging by the, to be frank, slightly miserly portions you frequently get elsewhere.

I’d eat this again, especially if I’m in the joint for a pizza. Or maybe I’d get the cheese between the whole table!

35/100 Time Out’s best dishes in London

Custard Doughnut at St John Bakery

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It’s a bit of a trek to St John Bakery, whichever direction you’re approaching from. It’s perhaps a surprise, therefore, to find a hole-in-the-wall outlet under the arches serving only around a dozen baked goods which sees patrons flocking from across (south) London.

“Ultimately, how good can doughnuts be?”

The dozen products are loaves, Eccles cakes, and jam and custard doughnuts. Our mission: the custard doughnut.

In short: I enjoyed it. It was fluffy and light, and the custard was more whipped cream than a traditional doughnut sludgey custard, and the whole affair didn’t leave me with the greasy, heavy feeling you often end up with after your standard doughnut.

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Ultimately, though, I’d have to agree with Tom’s feeling – it was, in the end, just a doughnut, and how good can doughnuts be?

Nice, but nothing to write home about.

85/100 best dishes in London

Blood Orange Granita at Gelupo

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[with peanut butter ice cream on top]

Bocco di Lupo, the Italian across the road is spectacular. I went for a birthday and loved it. And its head chef, Jacob Kenedy, happened to do Philosophy of Science with me at university. Gelupo is its gelateria, and offers traditional and modern flavours for every palette.

“This was, excuse the pun, bloody delicious”

We were here for the blood orange granita, which for the uninitiated is a bit like a slush puppy – or rather, a slush puppy is like it. Shaved ice with liquid flavour, poured over and enjoyed with a spoon and straw. This was, excuse the pun, bloody delicious. The sharp, rich, complex sweetness of the blood orange makes for a refreshing, tangy and almost spicy dessert. Rather than being bland and watered down, it is mega-flavourful. And it’s so bloody red you’ll want to dye clothes with it!

20/100 of the best dishes in London