Rhubarb Gin

Todays rhubarb recipe is the simplest of the week, yes simpler than the roasted rhubarb, rhubarb infused gin. Shall I stop there and get straight to recipe? What else is there to say other than go and grab a bottle of gin and some rhubarb and make this immediately, your gin and tonic will never be the same again!

The basic recipe for this gin is simplicity itself and I would feel remiss simply giving you that, especially considering I could probably fit the whole thing into one tweet. To that end I have also come up with a fabulous cocktail, in case you get bored with the good old gin and tonic. Its based on a classic gimlet, with a double hit of rhubarb coming from the gin but also a little bit of rhubarb simple syrup.

Rhubarb Gin
400g rhubarb (the pinkest you can find)
250g caster sugar
750ml gin

Cut the rhubarb into short 2cm pieces and add to a large container (a 1 litre jar is perfect). Add the sugar and the gin, seal and give the jar a gentle shake. Pop the jar in a dark cool area and set aside for a week or two until the gin has turned a fabulously pink colour. Strain the gin through cheese cloth or a fine mesh sieve and bottle. 

Rhubarb Gimlet
75ml rhubarb gin
25ml lime juice
15ml rhubarb simple syrup (recipe below)

Add all the ingredients to a cocktail shaker full of ice and shake for a good 30 seconds until the shaker is getting too cold to hold. Strain into a martini glass and serve. 

Rhubarb Simple Syrup
250ml water
200g caster sugar
200g rhubarb, cut into 2cm pieces

Place all of the ingredients into a saucepan and bring to a boil before reducing the heat to low and cook for about 15-20 minutes. Pour the mixture through a fine mesh strainer to remove the rhubarband refrigerate the syrup until needed. 

Buttermilk Panna Cotta with Rose Roasted Rhubarb

It is day two of rhubarb week and to ease you in gently, ahead of a trickier recipe later in the week, today is about as easy as it gets, no baking, minimal effort and a definite crowd pleaser.

There is something rather magical about the vibrant pink of rhubarb next to something so simple and pale as a panna cotta, it looks special, elegant almost. It also belies the effort put in, and would look at home in any restaurant or at any dinner party. Actually it makes for a perfect dinner party dessert as everything can be prepared ahead meaning you're not making the faux pas of spending the entire evening in the kitchen (yes, this and all other modern etiquette questions will be answered in my upcoming book Edd’s Guide To Not Screwing Up)

Panna cotta with roasted rhubarb is a natural combo, basically a classic and for a good reason. I like when rhubarb gets a chance to shine, not hidden under lots of other flavours so a panna cotta is the perfect way of serving it. For this version I have taken that classic and tweaked it, just a little. I have used the roasted rhubarb from my last post and, once roasted, added a couple teaspoons of rose water, a magical combo if done right. Rose has a delicate balance to play, which becomes obvious when you ask people if they like the flavour. Quite often the answer will be no, making some reference to old ladies or tasting like perfume. Too much rosewater and you're in old dusty soap territory and too little you just cant taste it. To find your own balance add the rosewater little by little until it tastes just right. Also be wary of different brands, some taste sweeter, some more perfumed so tasting as you go is a sensible idea. For the actual panna cotta I have strayed from the usual dairy to add a little tang using buttermilk, which pairs beautifully with the sweet and sharp rhubarb. 

Buttermilk Panna Cotta with Rhubarb and Rose

Panna Cotta
2 gelatine sheets
250ml double cream
50g caster sugar
2 tsp vanilla bean paste
250ml buttermilk

Rose Roasted Rhubarb
1 batch roasted rhubarb (recipe here)
2-3 tsp rose water
edible rose petals, to serve (optional)

For the roasted rhubarb make as per the instructions here. Once finished simply add rose water, to taste. I would suggest 2-3 teaspoons. If serving chilled carefully transfer to a small container and refrigerate until needed. If serving warm I would make this as and when needed, if you reheat the rhubarb you run the risk of turning it mushy, I prefer it just to be holding its shape.

For the panna cotta place the gelatine into a small bowl and cover with ice cold water. 

Place the cream, sugar and vanilla into a small saucepan and bring to a simmer over medium heat, stirring to help the sugar dissolve evenly. Remove the gelatine from the water, squeezing off any excess moisture. Add to the pan and stir until dissolved. Remove from the heat and pour into a jug. Carefully divide the mixture between the dariole moulds and refrigerate for at least four hours. 

When ready to serve dip the dariole moulds into hot water to loosen the puddings then gently invert onto a plate to serve. Spoon some of the rhubarb onto the plate and enjoy.

Dont forget I have two more fabulous rhubarb recipes coming up this week so dont forget to keep checking back, the recipes only get better each day!

Rhubarb Week - Roasted Rhubarb

I am a proud Northerner. Yorkshire, born and bred. The fact I moved to London six years ago isn't helpful to this story so lets skim over that shall we? I grew up in Bradford, curry capital of the UK but we dont just do spice well, that part of the country is also home to an area known as the Rhubarb Triangle, home to Forced Yorkshire Rhubarb. The growing of forced rhubarb is almost mythical, done in darkened sheds with just candlelight to illuminate the farmers work.

Rhubarb was originally grown in London but that changed it 1877 when the first Yorkshire growers set up shop in Leeds. The growing environment turned out to be ideal and many growers followed, up to 200 farms were operating in the area at the height of the triangle. So popular was rhubarb, that during the war the government controlled the price to keep it affordable. But, times changed and its popularity dwindled, with most of the farms shuttering and the national affection for the vegetable, yes its not actually a fruit, dried up. Thankfully over the last 10/15 years we have become a nation of rhubarb lovers again. Right now we are in the middle of the forced rhubarb season so this week I am presenting you with a whole host of rhubarb recipes, starting today with a basic roasted rhubarb, which to my mind is the simplest and best way of treating rhubarb. A batch of this makes for a fabulous breakfast served with yoghurt and granola, or served alongside a panna cotta for dessert. 

Before we get to the first recipe I should briefly talk about the difference between regular and forced rhubarb. Forced rhubarb, which is in season January-March, is grown in Yorkshire, outdoors for the first two years, before being moved inside, into dark sheds a few months before harvest. In this dark and warmer environment the rhubarb grows and the carbohydrates that have been storing up for two years convert into sugar, leaving forced rhubarb at once thinner, sweeter and more vibrant than its traditional sibling. So much more prized are the forced varieties that the farmers from the Rhubarb Triangle led a campaign for Forced Yorkshire Rhubarb to become a protect categorisation in the EU, marking it alongside foods such as Champagne and Stilton Cheese.

Roasted Rhubarb
250g forced rhubarb
65g caster sugar
Juice of 1 orange (at this time of year I like to use blood oranges but any will do)
1 vanilla pod

Optional Extras
Lemon Zest (you can also use lemon juice instead of orange for a sharper flavour)
Star Anise, Cinnamon, Tonka Bean

Preheat the oven to 180C (160C fan). 

Trim the ends of the rhubarb and cut into one inch long pieces. Place onto a small baking tray with the sugar and the orange juice, mixing together. Cut the vanilla pod in half and scrape out the seeds, placing both the seeds and the pod onto the tray. 

Roast the rhubarb for 10-12 minutes until tender but the rhubarb is still holding its shape. Serve either warm or chilled. 

Bergamot and Gin Bundt Cake

January. It was barrage of cold, wet and simply miserable days, coupled with a looming tax deadline. Thank god it is over (although with Trump now in office I don't think its going to be sunny days and rainbows anytime soon). So yes, January doesn't really give us much to look forward to, except for the bounty of citrus that brightness the dullest of months. Normally I am obsessed with blood oranges, buying them by the dozen and figuring out a use later, and that certainly hasn't changed. This year, however, I have become quite besotted by the bergamot.  A more unusual, slightly trickier to find citrus, it tastes to me like a cross between a lemon, a lime and with a big dose of grapefruit and a hint of lavender. Its a little more sweet than lemons, although still sharp, very floral and just delicious. Over the last month I have used it in cocktails, in cookies and a couple of cakes and I have been completely won over. Thankfully my recipe testers seem to agree. 

One of the things with being a food writer is that at most times you can find one, if not two recipes in the kitchen waiting to find a home. It is one of the questions that people seem fascinated with; where does all all the food I make go, other than the obvious of course! I bake and cook every day and there is a limit to what me and my flatmate can eat, as much as we try to deny that sometimes. So, on a regular basis, I become the Hansel and Gretel of cakes, leaving crumbs wherever I go, taking cakes to meetings, dropping off cookies to my neighbour and generally trying to get the food into other peoples mouths other than my own. This particular recipe ended up at a friends office. Whilst they are normally very thankful for the food, I don’t regularly hear much back in the terms of feedback, but this was different. They loved this cake, and whilst I had planned on sharing this eventually, be it in a book or a magazine, I thought it was too good to sit on so here it is. A Bergamot and Gin Bundt cake (yes another bundt, sorry but I don’t think I won't ever stop loving bundt cakes). 

Bergamot and Gin Bunt Cake
500g golden caster sugar
zest of 2 large bergamot (see note below)
8 large eggs
250ml light olive oil
200g yoghurt
50ml bergamot juice
100g fine semolina
250g self raising flour
100g ground almonds
1/2 tsp baking powder

Glaze
2 tbsp gin
1 tsp vanilla bean paste
1-2 tbsp bergamot juice
200g icing sugar

To make the bundt cake preheat the oven to 180C (160C fan).

Place the sugar, bergamot zest and eggs into a large mixing bowl and use an electric mixer to whisk together until pale and light, about 5 minutes. Pour in the olive oil, yoghurt and bergamot juice and whisk to combine. In a separate bowl mix together the remaining ingredients. Add the dry goods to the egg mixture and whisk together briefly to combine. 

Spray a large bundt pan with oil (I find spray oil the most effective way to grease a bundt tin, almost guaranteeing it to release easily) and pour in the cake batter. Bake in the oven for 45-50 minutes or until a skewer inserted into the middle of the cake comes out clean. Allow the cake to cool in the tin for 10 minutes before carefully inverting onto a wire rack to cool completely.

Whilst the cake is still warm you can brush with a bergamot syrup if you fancy but I actually dont think this cake needs it, it is perfectly moist and flavourful on its own. 

For the glaze mix together the bergamot juice, gin, vanilla and icing sugar until a thick but pourable glaze is formed. Pour over the top of the cake and allow to drip down the sides of the cake. If you prefer you can sprinkle the cake with bergamot zest.

This keep keeps brilliantly, 3-4 days in a covered container.