Tag Archives: Honey & Co

Pear, ginger and dark chocolate cake

Pear, ginger and chocolate cake

Last year, while we were making a lot of changes to our house and garden, I planted some fruit trees. One was a pear, a skinny little thing barely and metre and a half tall. Remarkably, this year it bore a good couple of dozen fruit. So many, in fact, a few branches broke from the weight. I probably should have shaken some off in June. Those from the broken branch, small and unripe, were poached in a red wine concoction back in August. Now, the rest have ripened and been picked.

The variety is Concorde, which the RHS describes as a “fine, compact dessert pear” and they’re very pleasant eaten straight. But browsing the Honey & Co Baking Book by Sarit Packer and Itamar Srulovich, I came across a pear cake so it seemed a perfect opportunity to bake with some of my harvest.

I’ve tweaked the recipe a bit, and added some chocolate chips, as I had some dark chocolate in a jar that I’d already cut into rough chunks. Pear and ginger is a great pairing. So is pear and dark chocolate. So is dark chocolate and ginger. So why not all three?

2 pears
Juice of half a lemon
Zest of 1 lemon
180g caster sugar
150g olive oil
2 eggs (that is, about 115g, excluding shells)
60g crystallised ginger, roughly chopped
100g dark chocolate, roughly chopped
350g plain flour
2 tsp ground ginger
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp baking powder
Pinch salt

Plus
1 more pear
Demerara sugar

1. Preheat the oven to 170C.
2. Grease and line a 1kg loaf tin with baking paper.

Peel the pears
3. Peel, core and dice (about 8mm pieces) the two pears. Ideally they should be firm, but ripe.
4. Put the pieces in a bowl and add the lemon juice and zest, stirring it about to coat – this helps to stop the fruit browning while you make the batter.
5. In a large mixing bowl, whisk together the sugar and oil.

Whisk in the eggs
6. Add the egg and whisk until you have a thick mixture.
7. Add the diced pear and lemon, crystallised ginger and dark chocolate chunks. Stir to combine.
7. Sieve together the flour, ginger and raising agents then add this to the mixture, along with the pinch of salt.
8. Fold in until reasonably well combined. The Honeys say “try not to overwork the mixture – it is OK to have a couple of lumps.”
9. Pour the batter into the prepared tin and, with a damp knuckled, smooth the top.

Pear, giner and dark chocolate cake ready for baking
10. Cut the final pear into wedges, arrange these on top, and sprinkle with Demerara sugar.
11. Put in the oven and bake for about 45 minutes. It’s a moist, fruity cake, and will take a long time to cook, but so you don’t burn the top, take it out, cover with foil, then return to the oven for about half an hour.
12. Insert a skewer to check if it’s done: does it still have damp batter on it? If so, return to the oven for a bit longer.
13. When fully baked, cool in the tin.

Pear, crystallised ginger and dark chocolate cake

You can have it as a dessert, while still warm, with a blob of some indulgent dairy product (vanilla ice cream, clotted cream, double cream). Or cool fully and enjoy for breakfast or afternoon tea.

[Apologies for the photography in this post, which is even shoddier than normal. The days getting so short has caught me almost by surprise, and I was making this as night fell, resulting in some dubious non-natural lighting.]

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Filed under Cakes, Recipes

Kubaneh – Yemeni Jewish breakfast bread

Kubaneh

The latest addition to my cookbook library is Honey & Co’s The Baking Book, by Sarit Packer and Itomar Srulovich. It has the same UK publisher as my friend Rachel’s Five Quarters (which boasts a couple of my recipes), so I went along to the launch event a few weeks ago, bought a copy, got it signed and have been trying out the recipes since.

I love enriched doughs, so I was drawn to the recipe for kubaneh. Sarit’s family has Egyptian and Yemeni connections, and this bread is from the latter culture, specifically it’s a Yemenite-Jewish Sabbath breakfast bread. Reading more about it now, it’s traditionally baked overnight in a sealed tin. While Sarit’s version bakes for a fairly long time, it’s not overnight.

Some versions include whole eggs, and can be eaten as more savoury affair, with tomatoes or a tomato dip, or skhug, Yemeni hot sauce*. This one is sweeter. It’s rich in butter (or smen/semneh fermented sheep or goat milk butter; or margarine, depending on your dietary restrictions and inclinations and shopping options) and drizzled with honey, which caramelises together slightly.

Why haven’t I heard of this before?! Just my kind of thing.

Notes
I’ve tweaked the process slightly and given the ingredients in a more consistent format, so as to also include bakers’ percentages (below).

It’s a fairly moist dough – the original recipe says 300-350ml water, but I split the difference at 325ml: 325g. That works out at about 65% hydration, so quite wet and sticky. Check out my post on handling sticky doughs.

For this baking vessel, they use a “traditional lidded aluminium pot” but say you can also use a 20cm fixed bottom round cake tin, with a “lid” made of foil.

I used fresh yeast. You could use 10g active dry/granular yeast instead. If you only have instant/powdered yeast, you don’t need to mix it with liquid first – just combine it with the flour.

The dough
60g light soft brown sugar
15g fresh yeast
325g water, at about body temperature
250g strong white bread flour
250g plain (all-purpose) white flour
6g fine salt

Plus
Vegetable oil
Unsalted butter, softened (or margarine or smen, if you can get it. Very unlikely here in England!)
Runny honey

Here is it in bakers’ percentages (rounded):

Ingredient Quantity Percentage
Light soft brown sugar 60g 12%
Fresh yeast 15g 3%
Water 325g 65%
Strong white flour 250g 50%
Plain white flour 250g 50%
Salt 6g 2.5%

1. Mix together the water, sugar and yeast. Stir to dissolve the yeast.
2. Weigh out the flours into a large bowl and add the salt.
3. Add the yeast mixture to the flour and bring together a dough. I don’t have a mixer, so my instructions are for doing it by hand. If you do, just mix until well combined and smooth.

Kubaneh shaggy doughKubaneh - kneading doughKubaneh - smooth dough
4. Turn out the shaggy mixture onto a lightly oiled work surface and knead. I used the Dan Lepard technique of not kneading too much, then returning the dough to the bowl, cleaned and oiled, leaving for 10 minutes, then kneading briefly again. Repeat this twice more, then return to the cleaned, lightly oiled bowl.
5. Cover with plastic or a clean, damp tea towel and leave to prove for a couple of hours, or until doubled in size. The time will depend on the ambient temperature. It’s about 20C in my kitchen on a mild English summer’s day, and it took about two and a half hours.

Kubaneh dough - proved
6. While it’s proving, liberally grease the cake tin with butter, and grease the underside of the foil lid too. If you have a lidded pot, grease that similarly.

Kubaneh dough - slapped around
7. Sarit describes the next step as “the strange bit” – you moisten your hands then “flip the dough about in the bowl to knock it back”. Do it three times, keeping your hands moist.

Kubaneh dough - pieces
8. Oil a tray, then divide the dough up into eight pieces and place them on the tray. The dough weighs 900g, so eight pieces at around 112g.
9. Oil your hands a bit then take each piece, stretch it slightly, and put a blob of butter in the middle. I used pieces at about 10g, half a walnut size.
10. Smear the butter a bit then wrap the dough around it to form rough balls.

Kubaneh dough pieces in tin
11. Put the balls in the prepared tin, one in the middle, the rest equally spaced around it.
12. Put some more flecks of butter on top, drizzle with honey then cover and prove again until the dough “almost reaches the top” – too high and it’ll “overflow when baked.” I drizzled a bit more honey and added a bit more butter before baking.

Kubaneh dough ready for baking
13. Preheat the oven to 220C.
14. Put the tin, with its lid, in the oven and bake for half an hour.
15. Reduce the heat to 200C and continue baking for another half an hour.
16. Reduce the heat again to 180C and continue baking for another half an hour.
17. Turn the oven off and leave in the oven “for at least an hour”.
18. It’s best served warm, so if you’re an insomniac and have been doing this all night, or proved it overnight in the fridge and baked it early, enjoy it thus.

It’s surprisingly soft and chewy, and if you’re lucky, you’ll get nice caramelised bits. I won’t be doing it every week, but it’s a great addition to my enriched breads & breakfast bakes armoury. It’s also reminiscent of English lardy cakes, particularly the fruit-free versions from my part of the country, Hampshire and Sussex. Though obviously the fats used are a bit different for that gentile bake.

It’s also got me thinking about that most indulgent of fatty-sugary-doughy caramelised concoctions, the Breton kouign amann, which is more a pastry than a bread. Still, I might have to revisit that soon.

* Aka zhug, zehug; the Honey & Co The Baking Book also has a recipe for this, to accompany their lahooh, Yemeni pancakes.

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Filed under Baking, Breads, Cakes (yeasted), Recipes