We interrupt our normal programming...

Before I finish off with the last York post, I thought I'd change the tune a bit. Yesterday I decided to become adventurous and take advantage of my moderately-outfitted kitchen. Yes, I decided to attempt to cooking something (within minimum number of pans, bowls - none, to be exact, and measuring tools - everything here is in weights, which is fine if you have a kitchen scale. Needless to say, I don't. Online conversion charts were my friends that day).

While in York I acquired two cookbooks of traditional UK food (oddly, they both seem to include Irish dishes, but very few Scottish dishes are in evidence). It ended up being quite a social occasion, actually. I had been intent upon finding local cookbooks (being, if you hadn't noticed, entirely enamoured with food from the UK), and we walked into a shop that, lo and behold, had a whole display of them. I started reading them, but, not having the foggiest about any sort of British cooking, could not really discern which were better.

-"Ah, sir," I addressed a passing shopkeeping, "Could you possibly tell me which of these is a good cookbook?" And then, thinking maybe he wouldn't have any such experience, added, "If you happen to know."

-"The one you're holding is fantastic," That would be the Complete Traditional Recipe Book by Sarah Edington. "I bought it a few months ago, and it's one of my favorites. But that one," he gestured to Farmhouse Cookery, "just came out. I got it a week ago and it's really good. Anything by the National Trust is going to be fantastic."

At this point he calls over another shopkeeper to corroborate. "And, they're half off right now," he added helpfully. Well, that sealed the deal.

Flipping through them is an experience of its own, and I quickly decided to make a meal. One of the sparser, less complicated dishes and a nice bread. Well, the meal didn't happen, but I have all of the ingredients, and so I adventured to make the bread recipe yesterday while suffering science writer's block.

Featuring

I present to you

Norfolk Rusks

Now, flip to page 122 of your copy of Farmhouse Cookery by Laura Mason, and you are greeted by this picture of a stunning scene captioned Formerly used to drain the land, Horsey Windpump in Norfolk now offers striking views across the Broads. Very good.

And the recipe? Yes, I am aware you can't read it (you mean you can't make out my minute scrawl in the margins?). Oh, and this caption reads, Dunwich Heath in Suffolk is an important conservation area for rare birds such as the nightjar. Good to know, I'm sure.

Now, Norfolk Rusks. According to my new friend Laura, "These little bread rolls are unusual in English bread-making, but are a well-established recipe in Norfolk." Well, yes, I agree whole-heartedly with everything in that statement, except, perhaps, for the choice of calling them "rolls", for reasons which will become apparent.

Open your cupboards and make sure you have:

100g/3.5 oz butter (for those without a kitchen scale, this translates to 7 tablespoons)

200g/7 oz plain flour

1/2 tsp salt

1 tsp baking powder

1 egg

2 Tbs milk (or enough to make a "stiff paste")

At this point, I must apologize for not being as put together as the test kitchen bakers over at King Arthur Flour (check them out at http://www.kingarthurflour.com/blog/), and I don't have pictures of the whole process. I have paraphrased the instructions below:

Cut the butter into the flour and add the salt and baking powder. Add the egg, stir until fully incorporated and add just enough milk to make a "fairly stiff paste", or what we would call a "stiff dough".

At this point, I'll interject that the dough will look, and taste, like a typical American biscuit dough. Moving on...

Divide into 18 pieces and roll each into a round 1 cm thick.

Actually, I would recommend flattening out the whole ball of dough out into a 1 cm sheet onto cellophane, wrapping it, throwing it into the freezer for an hour (or substituting vegetable shortening for 1/2 the butter), pulling it out, cutting it with a cookie cutter or biscuit cutter, and then proceeding. The idea is you want as much rise as possible, and, while I haven't tried this technique (drat it, KAB, you're supposed to post these things before I cook the recipe to try them out on), freezing the full butter dough or substituting the shortening keeps the fat solid for longer when it goes into the oven, which allows the dough to rise more. Not that I've tried it, but these are definitely a concoction you want a lot of rise on. And I would highly recommend the cutter, because otherwise they'll look messing (like mine!).

Place on a greased baking sheet and bake at 425 Fahrenheit for 5-7 minutes until well risen. Remove from the oven and allow to cool for a short time, then score round the middle with a knife and pull each one in half.

Yep, definitely let them rise as much as you think they're able, then pull those babies out, let them cool (cool well, or else, again, it'll be messy) and cut 'em in half. At this point notice that nothing has been said about making sure they're done or what color they should be. That's because you, like me the first time I didn't read the recipe all the way through before baking *clears throat* will be astonished to find that this is not, indeed, the end! That is predominantly why I don't want to call these "rolls". Even "bread" is stretching it. On we go:

Return to a cool oven at 300 Fahrenheit until golden and dry all thew ay through (this takes about an hour). Cool and store in an airtight container. Eat with butter [I like how she says this as if there weren't already enough butter in them already. Actually, I think they'd be quite good with some sort of cheese melted on top].

So there you go. It's a dead ringer for an American biscuit when you pull them out the first time (tastes great with honey!), but you must resist the temptation to allow sisters, mothers, flatmates and, primarily, yourself to eat them all because they've got to go back into the cooler oven for a long, long time. You'll know they're done when they're a uniform shade of deep, golden brown (actually, they're done when the color is the very definition of "golden brown". I've never seen anything that describes the color so well). Make sure they're not pale in the middle, and they should pretty much just flake apart when you touch (or eat!) them! As below.

So this is, surprisingly, not a recipe I would make for breakfast as I expected it to be. I find that it's much more of an hors d'oeuvre (that's a kicker to spell, by the way), served with a topping of some. Give them a try!

York, Day 3, Part 1

Now that we've moved on to Day Three, here are some pictures from the boat tour we took on the River Foss (not to be mistaken with the River Ouse, pronounced "ooze"):

(Isn't it so pretty and serene?)

But the real event of the day was going to Betty's. You know you've been dying to hear about Betty's since yesterday when I whetted your appetite, so to speak, with the picture from Little Betty's...Alright, now that I have fortified myself with a bowl of cereal, I am prepared to tell you the wonders of Betty's.

The glass-walled building occupies a street corner of York, offering diners the opportunity to stare out at their less fortunate counterparts in the cold streets, while sitting in warm comfort in a large, airy and brightly lit room. The staff - all female (sorry guys, you just don't have the right qualities to work in a place like this), wear long-sleeved, high necked lace blouses and long blue skirts, and, naturally, they all have a proper English accent and a quiet manner.

The menu is a marvel to behold: tea sandwiches, tea cakes, entrees, assorted hot (and cold) beverages (coming from the Steeping Room, the tea selection was limited, but their pitch is more towards the bakery than the tea room), and the obligatory Autumn Special Menu (which, consequentially, my entire meal came off of. Oh how I love the fall!).

I started the meal with mulled cider - apple sweet and heavily spiced with nutmeg, cinnamon and so much citrus giving it a pleasing bite it too the entire meal to drink. It came served steaming in a frosted glass (not cold frosted, translucent frosted). There is is, on the right upper corner of the picture.

Ah, but what is the centerpiece of that marvelous photo, you might ask. Why, that, I would respond, was my lunch and the finest dish I've eaten since arriving. Lamb and Rosemary Pie. Piled under a delicate, crispy puff pasty top, the succulent lamb just lay begging to be eaten, so tender it nearly fell apart if you so much as looked at it. Served with onions cooked to perfection (not overdone, but not crispy), potatoes and carrots, and all soused in a fine rosemary gravy.

And then, there were the obligatory tea sandwiches (which, if you remember well, were also featured yesterday compliments of T):

And the third dish to adorn the table was this delicious potato pancake, topped with mushroom sauteed in a white wine cream sauce:

Alas, I did not take pictures of our dessert, for my wits were overcome by the delights of the lamb, but I will do my best to describe it to you:

For T, there was Betty's Sunday, a delicious dish of dairy made with organic vanilla ice cream, crushed meringue, crushed raspberries, strawberries and blackberries and topped with fresh whipped cream. I would highly recommend the crushed meringue in your next Sunday. It adds a soft and satisfying crunch to the dish.

For Ellen, a fresh fruit custard. Served in a delicate tart pastry filled to the brim with custard and topped with fresh berries.

For yours truly, the kill of the afternoon: Warm treacle tart served on a pond of piping hot toffee sauce with a scoop of organic vanilla ice cream.

Unbeatable.

York, Day 3, Part 2

And now we return to our normal programming as I present to you the pictures from our final afternoon in York (aka Eboracum, aka Jorvik). Following the repast of kings, we made our way to the city gardens and abbey ruins. The ruins, as well as the grounds, were lovely:

With our trip about to conclude, I found myself inclined to take one more typical tourist photo for your gratification and mine:

Stay tuned for next week's edition, entitled "A Weekend in London."

York, Day 2 (finally!)

On Day 2 we moved out of the Roman York and into the Viking York and also back to the Medieval York. Here's another picture of the Shambles - it gives a better impression of how close the buildings lean in together over the street:

Then we went to York Castle. Now tell me it's not a lovely (if somewhat creepy, just sitting up there all alone and menacing) structure.

And some pictures from the inside:

(These stairs were treacherous, so after making the descent from the wall there was much speculation on how many armoured soldiers have fallen down them or collided on them - and subsequently fallen down, in the past. I imagine a scene quite like the one in Robin Hood: Men in Tights in which the knights topple like dominoes.)

(This is the Castle Museum, photographed from the castle walls)

(And I really don't know what this building is, but it's pretty, don't you think?)

After the castle, we went to the Castle Museum, which is a more interactive approach to living in England through the ages, with replica living rooms, dining rooms, bedrooms, kitchens and, yes, full streets (!) from different eras. Then there was the Jorvik (the Viking name for York) Museum, which recreates the settlement as it was in Viking times based on archaeological finds. In fact, the museum itself is built over an archaeological site (this seems to be a common thread here). Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures of it, but take my word for it - it was really fun (think Star Trek The Experience meets the Vikings and a group of enthusiastic archaeologists who want to have fun with sets).

After that it was off to lunch for a Sunday Roast, then to one of the many haunted houses (this one actually had a tour, as opposed to just a sign out front saying, "York's most haunted"). The house itself was home to a glass painter, so I really only took pictures of some of the stunning stained glass work:

Right across the street from the haunted house, and oh-so-conveniently placed, is Little Betty's Cafe. It's a second location of the famous (and delicious) Betty's Tearoom, but in addition to having a storefront bakery, there's a full-service, full-menu tearoom upstairs. So we went for tea, and it was just about everything a tearoom should be. Quaint, quiet and classy.

(Check out the tower of treats, served in the traditional English way! The top one is a Fat Rascal - it's a local food kind of like a citrus scone. The middle one is mine - sultana, or raisin, scone with cream and jam, and the bottom is a chicken salad tea sandwich. I also had the most delicious cup of hot chocolate ever - it was made with hot milk and real chocolate shavings, frothing, fresh whipped cream and topped with chocolate shavings that were so hot they were melting into a chocolatey goo all over the whipped cream!)

And, finally, the last post on the first day in York

These pictures are really just from wandering around the town. The devil featured below is a fairly iconic character in York pamphlets, but I couldn't really tell you why.

The following are from wandering into the minster itself (keep an eye out for the characteristic Gothic abundance of light and soaring verticality!):

(Sorry, a random Constantine seems to have made his way into the minster photos. But while I'm at it, his plaque reads, "Near this place, Constantine the Great was proclaimed Roman Emperor 306 [...]" Cool, right?!)

And then, because no city would be complete without one, a Roman Column!!!

York (again), Day 1, Part 3

So, here are the promised pictures from walking the York wall:

(This is my favorite picture from the weekend)

Talk about a fun afternoon's entertainment! The last picture is of an icehouse that was built just outside of the old city.