The Singing Kettle - A perfect tea parlor in Dartmouth!

When I hear the word ‘tea,’ I immediately think of England. Cozy parlors. Painted porcelain cups.  Little cubes of sugar.  Lots of silver and all that.  Found the quintessential place in Dartmouth:  The Singing Kettle.

Although tea is served all over the world and some of the places I’ve drunk it, I better not mention.  After all, I have a wife, and friends, who say they bend in a broadminded sort of way, but look at you strangely when you do even the most innocent things, like pop a beer for breakfast, or point-out you can see the waitress’ nipples when she’s standing in the sunlight.  Closet Puritans.

As I was saying, England for me is the epicenter of the tea world.  Of course, a couple of billion Asians may feel slightly differently.

Tea hasn’t always been a cornerstone of English sociability.   Got to the shores in the mid 17^th Century and took a while to catch-on. Samuel Pepys, of diary fame, wrote in 1660 (or thereabouts):  "I did send for a cup of tee, (a China drink) of which I had never had drunk before".

George Orwell (the novelist, 1984) also had some specific ideas about making and serving tea:  http://wikilivres.ca/wiki/A_Nice_Cup_of_Tea  You’re welcome to read the full list of his eleven, ironclad rules, but leave you only with this: 

“First of all, one should use Indian or Ceylonese tea. China tea has virtues which are not to be despised nowadays — it is economical, and one can drink it without milk — but there is not much stimulation in it. One does not feel wiser, braver or more optimistic after drinking it. Anyone who has used that comforting phrase 'a nice cup of tea' invariably means Indian tea.”

In Devon, where the city of Dartmouth nestles on the banks of the River Dart, you’ll find the specialty is cream tea.  That doesn’t refer to the added liquid, which is almost always milk, but to the famous Devon clotted cream.  Clotted cream is rich cream, cooked in a specific fashion to make a spread with a consistency similar to sweet butter.  Clotted cream is served as a topping for scones or other pastries. Want to make your own scones?  One of my previous posts shows you how: http://stroudallover.blogspot.de/2012/02/biscuits-go-to-london-magnificent-cream.html

Note the clotted cream on the uppermost plate.

Ah, the romance of tea.  Types range from dark and strong to light and simple.  You’re missing the point if you resort to bags.  Either that or you’re a wearied mother of two or three or (god pity you) four, in which case a pause is measured in seconds and silence is more valuable than bricks of gold.  Then, ok, even the most fastidious would understand if you simply put a tea bag in your mouth and sucked.

For the rest of us:  Use loose tea.  More flavorful by far.  Easier to gauge the strength of the tea.  Here’s a handy reference from The Republic of Tea:  http://the.republicoftea.com/library/tea-information/tea-101-how-to-steep-tea/

At The Singing Kettle you won’t have to worry. Your waiter will advise you on how long to let the tea steep.

Sugar or not?  Of course the sugar should always be cubed, not sifted. Stir gently.

How about milk, as the English usually take it?  Before or after pouring the tea?  Your choice.  Let the authorities quibble over the difference.

A couple of things I liked about The Singing Kettle, besides the tea, which comes in several excellent varieties, and the scones, which were perfect.  The Kettle was steps away from our Bed & Breakfast, in the heart of old Dartmouth.  Inside the tea room, the only sounds I heard were the soft, metallic sounds of teaspoons, and the gentle, subdued tones of conversation.  My feeling is, if I want noise and crowds, I’ll go where the noise and crowds are.  Definitely not for tea.

Did you know that the English consume more tea per capita than anyone else?  But, the other side of the coin is that tea consumption is going down.  Nope, coffee isn’t taking it’s place.  Herb tea and other healthful liquids are the culprits.

But, back to Dartmouth!  I would talk on and on about the virtues of The Singing Kettle.  Professional, efficient wait-staff.  Reasonable prices.  Luxurious atmosphere without making you feel uncomfortable in your street clothes, and of course the scones and clotted cream!  But, I think the photos tell a better story than mere words.

When you’re in Dartmouth, you will want a break from feverish shopping and a breakneck pace of sightseeing.  The Singing Kettle is the perfect place to relax, have a cuppa, nosh a bite or two and remember that you came to Dartmouth for a vacation from life’s cares.  Settle back.  Now, one lump or two?

Cake By the Pound

Golden, moist, and delicious

Don't be fooled.  Use 5 Eggs!

Pound cake goes way back in my family, to when we had a few less pounds to worry about. No wonder we love it.  It’s got all the good stuff: heaps of sugar, butter, flour, milk, and eggs.  Well, as they say, everything in moderation, but in the case of the most delicious pound cake you’ve ever tasted, you have to moderate your quest for moderation.  Either that, or do what we do.  Invite friends over and let them slather the calories down their own greedy throats.  I gave mine to a ton of friends, and both of them gobbled it right up.

A bit of history.  It was way, way back in the 1700’s when Dawg Pound, a delirious baker from Halfbakeshire, and his first wife, Wright Ata Pound, having tired of producing meat and potato pies for the undernourished, decided to deliver a hammer blow to those slight of waist and lacking in bulk.  The recipe they threw together called for a pound each of butter, flour, eggs, and sugar.  Thus the Pound Cake was born.  It was not until centuries later that a foursome of doctors, quite by accident, discovered the real advantage of pound cake.  It raises cholesterol, thus necessitating the consumption of copious quantities of red wine! Oh, what a happy day that was.  Church bells rang!  People danced in the streets.  Thus began the quaint custom of ‘pounding down’ a few.

This recipe cuts considerably the traditional quantities of  a pound of this and a pound of that, but nothing is lost and a lot is gained.  If you’re used to pound cake that is dry and flavorless, you’re in for a culinary rebirth.  This one is so rich and moist you’ll sneak back in the kitchen late at night, when calories don’t count.

Pound Cake

3 Sticks of butter, or two sticks of butter and half a cup of shortening

(Those substituting margarine will be bound over to the authorities.)

3 Cups of sugar (Diet chemical users, please just shoot yourselves now)

5 Eggs (I use ‘free range’ eggs, spawned by chickens training for a marathon.)

3 Cups of flour (No, I don’t grind my own, but I grind my teeth at the question.)

 1/2 teaspoon baking powder (Aluminum free, natch!  We ain’t makin’ cars!)

1 Cup milk

1 teaspoon vanilla

1 teaspoon lemon extract  (only if you’re a timid mouse, governed by indecision and fear of failure;  otherwise use a Tablespoon of freshly grated lemon rind.)

Pre-heat oven to 325ºF or 165º C.

Cream the butter (or butter and shortening), add the sugar and beat until they are combined.  (I use my food processor to this point, then switch to hand mixing for a less fluffy consistency.)  Add the eggs one at a time, while continuing to beat the mixture.  Sift together the flour and baking powder.  Add the flour and the milk, a portion at a time, to the bowl of butter, sugar, and eggs.  Mix until everything is combined.  Add the flavorings and beat again.

Pour the batter into two, well greased loaf pans and bake for 1 1/4 hours to 1 1/2 hours.  Test occasionally by inserting a knife.  When the knife comes out clean, the cakes are done.

Note:  If the cakes are browning too fast, cover with a sheet of aluminum foil.

There are various ways to serve pound cake, other than slicing and slamming it down freestyle.  A friend’s mother likes to butter and toast the slices and serve them with a dollop of vanilla ice cream on top.  Sliced, sugared, strawberries on top, is another good way.  I eat my slice plain, with a cup of milk, because I'm a good boy and that’s the way my mother taught me..

There are also many variations of the cake itself.  I sometimes add nuts.  Pecans, or toasted almond slivers work well.  The cake may also be dusted with powdered sugar.

However you make it and serve it, your pound cake is going to make people view you in a new light.  No longer will you be the just another dog in the pack.  You’ll be the leader of the pound.  Whoops, gotta run.  Time for my dose of red wine.

Biscuits go to London, the Magnificent Cream Scone

Dough is stiff, but not crumbly

note the pastry cutter 

An English tea is a wondrous culinary event.  Simple, but as stylish as an Audrey Hepburn movie.  A proper tea extends the boundaries well beyond the limits of teabags and sweet biscuits in the kitchen. It’s sitting in an ages old hotel, in London, or lounging in a quaint, half-timbered countryside inn, basking in the glow of an ancient fireplace, and being served a sumptuous bounty of finger sandwiches, short cakes, and buttery scones.  Small pots of fresh jam.  Cosied pots of fragrant tea.  You gaze wistfully at the tiered delicacies and wonder if you should break the spell and nibble these works of art.

            But, lacking the time and money to get to England, you can transform mere biscuits into scones and mere fruit into homemade jam.  Let’s do both, and I’ll  leave it to you to dream the rest.

            You have the recipe for biscuits.  Let’s alter it a bit and taste the difference.

Scones

2 Cups flour

2 Tablespoons sugar

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 teaspoons baking powder

3 tablespoons butter

1 1/3 to 1 1/2 Cups cream

Mix the dry ingredients.   Cut in the butter.  I use a food processor, but two forks, or an old-fashioned pastry cutter work well. Note that you’re using less butter than for biscuits.

After cutting in the butter, mix in the cream to make a stiff dough.  Too stiff?  Add a little more cream.   Flatten the dough into a round, about  3/4 of an inch thick.  Cut the round into wedges.  Separate and bake the wedges on an ungreased baking sheet at 450ºF, or 230ºC for 12 minutes, or until the tops are golden.

            Now let’s make the jam.  Use fresh fruit, or the glass-bottled fruit you find in the supermarket.  Peaches are one of my favorites. I sometimes add some fresh ginger to the mix.   Finely chop the continents of the jar, reserving the liquid, and put the bits in a frying pan.  Add a cup of sugar.  Let the sugar melt, then cook the mixture until the jam is thickened.  That’s it!  If gets too thick, add some of the reserved fruit liquid.  Serve the jam fresh and hot, or refrigerate and use it later.

            Present your scones and jam to your friends, with a pot of Earl Grey, or English Breakfast Tea, or of a million other varieties of tea.

            After tasting these scones, you’ll be saving your pennies for a trip to England.

Gimme Some Ribs and Make It Fast!

I hesitate to mention ribs.  A thousand cooks, two thousand recipes.  But, believe it or not, there are some feckless souls who still think if they’re pressed for time, they have to go to Chili’s (gag reflex kicks in like a substance abusing mule).

Let’s bring in some sunshine, shift into sixth gear, mix some metaphors, and grab a rack (ribs, you pervert) and get cookin’.  First thing you need are some pork ribs.  I go for the full sized (unfrozen), rather than the baby backs, or the St Louis cut.  No particular reason except I find the full sized usually keep their flavor and juice a bit better.

Next, start a big pot of boiling water, drop in the ribs and let ‘em boil for 45 minutes to an hour.  I know what you’re thinkin’. All the flavor boils away.  Wait until you taste the results, open a bottle of red, fanny whooping wine, then make a more informed decision.

While the ribs boil, mix your dry rub:

1 portion salt

1 portion pepper

1/2 portion paprika

1/4 portion ground chipotle pepper. 

Mix well. You could use regular cayenne pepper, but chipotle adds a smoky flavor.  Whatever you use, make enough rub to really give the rack a thorough dusting.  If you have any left over, save it in a jar and use it for any meat you stick on the grill or in the oven, chicken, beef, or pork.

Now make simple syrup of 3 tablespoons dark brown sugar and 1 tablespoon of water.  Cook until all the sugar dissolves. For those of you who don’t want to use sugar, slap yourself hard across both cheeks, then follow the damn recipe. Interesting to note a can of Coke has about 3 1/2 Tablespoons of sugar, although American Coke uses high fructose corn syrup, even worse.

Heat your oven to 350ºF or 180ºC.

Take the boiled ribs out of the water and pat them very dry.  Use a paint brush to brush both sides of the ribs with the simple syrup. Don’t soak the ribs, just give them a quick paintjob.  Now scatter the dry rub heavily on the painted ribs.  Don’t be shy! You’re not salting scrambled eggs, you’re making ribs, hombre! If you’re thinking, whoops, that’s too much – it’s probably about right.

Put some foil on a baking sheet, drop the ribs on top and slide them in the oven.  20 minutes later you’ll have perfectly browned, crispy outside and tender inside ribs, with a robust flavor.  They’ll slide right off the bone.  You’ve just made ribs worth fighting for in about an hour and a half.  And if you hold anything sacred, for the love of heaven, never go to Chili’s again.

Going Green, Red, and Garlicky

        Stop!  Don’t put that goopy, mass produced salad dressing in your cart!  Put the damn bottle back on the shelf.  Have you read the ingredients?  Let’s make some good stuff instead.  It’s so simple you’ll never, ever buy salad dressing again.  All you need is a blender, some basic ingredients and three minutes.  Don’t have a blender?  Don’t lie to me, you margarita swilling swine!

        By the way, did you know that margarita means daisy in Spanish?  Hey, shape up!  You ought to know what you’re drinking. 

        Back to the salad dressing.  Here’s the basic recipe:  1/4 cup olive oil, 1/2 cup vinegar, 1 clove garlic, salt, and pepper to taste.  Put it in a blender.  Presto!  You’ve made a wonderful vinaigrette, and it’s only the beginning of your salad dressings adventures.  By the way, I always use Spanish olive oil.  To my tongue, the flavor is more intense.  Note the photo and the old sake bottles I use for my olive oil and kosher salt.  Nicely shaped bottles never go to waste in my house.  By the way, why do they call it kosher salt?  How can salt be anything else?  Kosher salt is the salt they use to cure kosher meat.  Mystery solved.

        Now back to the salad dressing for some not so basics.  For a change of pace, try using flavored vinegars.  I often use seasoned rice vinegar, shown in the photo, also strawberry vinegar, rosemary vinegar, and other vinegars that intrigue my taste buds. I keep strawberry and rose vinegars on my shelf.

        For tonight’s salad, I’m topping fresh baby greens with chopped strawberries and some toasted walnuts.  Hint:  how to toast walnuts.  Put them in a pan over moderate heat – no butter, no oil.  Let them toast, tossing occasionally until you smell the sweet, nutty aroma.

        For tonight’s salad dressing, I’m following the basic recipe, but using 1/4 cup seasoned rice vinegar, which is slightly sweet, 1/4 cup champagne vinegar, and also tossing some fresh strawberries into the blender, first removing the tops and any white parts.  How many strawberries?  I started with four large ones, but I needed more berry flavor, so I added a couple more. 

        Want your dressing a little sweeter?  Instead of half and half seasoned rice vinegar and regular, use a full 1/2 cup of seasoned rice vinegar, or add sugar or honey.  Want it creamier?  Add an egg yolk.  Don’t worry about an uncooked yolk.  Just make sure you keep any leftover dressing in the refrig.

        One day soon, we’ll talk about how to make your own flavored vinegars, but right now let’s enjoy the baby greens, walnut, and strawberry salad, with the strawberry vinaigrette