Mix lightly but thoroughly then spoon into the cake tins, smoothing the surface as you go.īake for 20-25 minutes until the cakes have risen. When the butter and sugar are well creamed, add the flour-almond mixture and the beaten eggs, alternately and a little at a time, beating continuously. Break the eggs into a small bowl and beat thoroughly with a fork. Grind the almonds to a coarse powder in a food processor then stir in the flour. Finely grate and add the orange and lemon zest. Turn the tins upside down and shake lightly to remove any excess flour.Ĭream the butter and sugar together in a food mixer until pale and fluffy. Prepare the cake tins by melting a little extra butter, brushing it over the inside of the tins, then dusting them lightly with flour.
#Lemon peeler plus#
You will need six individual tins, but, if you prefer, use deep paper cake cases.ġ00g, plus some for the tins, self-raising flour Scatter with the mint leaves and rose petals. Turn the heat up, let the sauce reduce a little, then taste adding a little salt, pepper or honey as you wish (bear in mind you will be eating it with the yoghurt sauce). Remove the aubergines to a serving dish, then stir the honey and sultanas into the cooking juices. Shred the mint leaves, finely chop the chilli and roughly chop the pistachios and fold all into the yoghurt. Keep an eye on the liquid level.įor the sauce, put the yoghurt into a bowl, peel and cut the cucumber in half lengthways, scrape out and discard the seeds, then coarsely grate the flesh and stir into the yoghurt. They should be so soft you could crush them between finger and thumb. Check and turn them from time to time, but they should take about 25-30 minutes.
#Lemon peeler crack#
Return the aubergines to the pan, lower the heat to a simmer, partially cover with a lid - you just want a crack for the steam to escape - and cook until truly silky and tender. Let the spices sizzle for a minute or so, stirring regularly - they mustn’t burn - then pour in 600ml of water, turn up the heat and bring to the boil. When all the aubergines are golden and removed from the pan, lower the heat a little, add the ginger and garlic followed by the salt, pepper, turmeric and cinnamon. Peel the ginger, slice thinly, then cut into matchstick-size pieces. Remove them as they become ready and replace with the rest of the aubergines. You may need to top up the oil from time to time. Loosen them with a palette knife as they cook, so they don’t stick. Keeping the heat fairly high, turn each piece with kitchen tongs and leave to colour the other side. Place as many aubergine pieces, cut-side down, as you can comfortably fit in the pan and let them cook until golden on the underside, about 4-5 minutes. Warm 100ml of olive oil in a wide, shallow pan over a moderate heat. Peel the aubergines and slice them in half, top to bottom. Start the recipe with 100ml of oil, adding a further amount, up to 50ml, if the aubergines become dry. I covered them with thin, almost transparent icing sharpened with lemon juice lending just the right amount of sweetness to a plain, moist cake. These are the only fancy cake tins I have, but I love them for their swirling lines, deep ridges and hollows that hold frosty pools of citrus-scented icing. I could have used individual bun tins or paper cake cases, but instead chose individual bundt tins. This way of cooking them, with spices, water and covered with a lid, encourages a silky texture without emptying your olive oil bottle. Thicken it with shredded cucumber and chopped pistachios, if you wish. Sweetened with honey and sultanas, they are good eaten with yoghurt. You can brown them in oil, then braise them with ginger, garlic, cumin and turmeric, adding a little water or vegetable stock and basting them with their own thin, aromatic juices. I only occasionally take the peeler to them, but they look elegant without their skins, scattered with lemon zest and parsley or in a pool of their own bronze baking juices. Baked or grilled, I cook them with their skins on - and eat them too.
And let’s face it, without olive oil there is very little point to this vegetable (fruit to the pedantic). So silky, so plump, so melting, they’re almost more olive oil than aubergine. I like my aubergines baked until on the verge of being overcooked. Removing the one you want is like playing vegetable Jenga. My greengrocer sells aubergines of various sizes in precarious piles, each one as glossy as wet paint. Slow-cooked aubergine with yoghurt and cucumber Find your comfort zone with silky aubergines followed by a moist orange bundt cake, suggests Nigel Slater.
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