Coconut cake

 I tend to see an ingredient and, with a childish impulsivity, get excited about it and feel compelled to buy it. Then later when I get home, think about what it might be used for. This is worse with spices and dried ingredients where I set off looking for something more conventional like peppercorns or salt then become tempted by row upon row of exotic foods: marrons glaces, clover honey, dried rose petals; all wonderful, but not exactly necessary. Then I get home and, since they aren’t going to go moldy or go off their best in the immediate future, stash them away somewhere in a dark, lonely cupboard. This does mean though that I end up having quite a few ingredients in the store cupboard and when the time does come for them to be used, I’m already prepared.

Although some people use coconut on a regular basis, aside from the occasional coconut macaroon, I rarely use it, so it seemed quite a novelty to use coconut cream, milk and desiccated coconut in one dessert – in fact I went quite coconutty (sorry) for it. Coconut’s sweet nutty flavor can be quite subtle and I debated whether to fill the cake with a lime curd or soak the sponge in a rum syrup but I’ve decided to let the coconut speak for itself simply.

Lemon curd and a sourdough bread

In the middle of winter, a bowl of sunny lemons bring a certain, zest (to use a pun) to the kitchen: I might even have them just to look at on a gloomy day. By the end, the kitchen smells like a Sicilian lemon grove and my hands are tenderly stinging from the lemon’s sharply acidic juice.

I always have some lemons in the kitchen, and use them in almost everything; curd is one of the few times where they stand on their own. The key to a good curd is in the zest, from where the more delicate and fragrant lemon flavor comes from, rather than the harsher acidity of the juice. Use a sharp grater (which unfortunately I myself don’t have, resulting in a pathetic struggle with my blunt utensil to remove that elusive zest), taking care to only take the thin, yellow zest off the lemon, avoiding the bitter pith beneath.

Aside from the obvious slathering on toast and spooning directly from the jar, try it as a base for tarts, topped with fresh fruits and berries, folded into softly whipped cream for a quick mouse or stir it into some milk or cream to a pourable consistency and churn into a tangy lemon ice cream.

I’ve included a recipe for bread, since (in my mind at least) there is nothing -almost, as satisfying in having both homemade bread and curd for breakfast. The recipe works for either sourdough (as I’ve used) or the more conventional baker’s yeast. If you haven’t yet started a sourdough starter, I highly recommend doing so. I haven’t included a tutorial here as there are lots of really good tutorials that others have written, a quick Google will uncover many. At its most basic though, all it involves is stirring together some flour and water and giving it some time for the naturally present yeast and bacteria to ferment it. Then once started, it is just a case of getting into the rhythm of sourdough breads: don’t expect it to double in size in an hour or two, rather let it rise slowly - looking around the 4 hour mark instead. Sourdough or not, the smell of bread baking in the oven is one not easily beaten.

Forced rhubarb and custard tart

In the grim, monotonous depths of winter, bright, shockingly pink forced rhubarb comes as quite a relief. Its sharp, bright flavors come as a welcome respite from all the stodgy gluttony of the  festive season. Its sharp flavor works well with other zingy ingredients such as orange, and ginger, but also with more mellow, floral and spicy ingredients such as vanilla, cardamom and  strawberry.

Forced rhubarb can be fairly expensive and so its precious stems are perhaps best enjoyed simply stewed along with a little sugar and just the scantest dribble of water, served with thick Greek yoghurt. After photographing, I had a 1 stick of rhubarb left, and to lazy tired to make anything with simply dipped it into a bag of sugar and ate like a possibly-slightly healthier sherbet sweet. Rhubarb's also work wonderfully with more savory ingredients, particularly with mackerel, where rhubarb's sharp flavor cuts through the oily  mackerel.

Apple, honey and almond frangipane tart

Winter is the season for baking; on those grim days when there is a constant drizzle of rain and the clouds hang low in the sky, producing a myriad of cakes and pastries never seems so . Baking can also capture the flavors of the season too: warm pies, dense, steaming puddings and spicy fruit cakes all seem perfectly suited to the weather now, and are even better with a generous slug of custard. Here, nutty marzipan scented frangipane, sweet honey and warm apples combine for a wonderful tart. Use a good, floral runny honey for this, I used orange blossom, but I think clover would be really good too

Challah

Challah is a soft, fluffy braided bread enriched with with eggs and olive oil. It has a soft, moist texture that is just slightly sweet, owing to the sugar in the recipe. Its deep, golden braids and burgeoning white interior really catch the eye on the table. I chose to do a 3 strand challah (which I struggled enough with) but you could do 4, 5, 6 - I've even heard of 12 strands- depending on your proficiency.