Toby Atkin-Wright

Andrew went to Paris and bought me a couple of tubes of condensed milk. How considerate of him.

Mmm sweet milky delight.

Andrew went to Paris and bought me a couple of tubes of condensed milk. How considerate of him.

Mmm sweet milky delight.

We’ve had Mary to stay for the weekend. Kate’s cold has been improving, and we’ve had a jolly time.

On Saturday we watched “Remembrance of the Daleks” in the morning. There is nothing like a bit of classic Who to start the weekend. Beth enjoyed it a lot. She was amused at the Special Weapons Dalek. The afternoon was spent at the Bonkers playbarn in Cupar where Beth was attending Felicity’s birthday party. On the way home we dropped in on Ian & Liz’s tea and cake party; good company and good cakes. Beth had fun meeting another Beth, and young Elliot. We spent the evening watching “The Nine Tailors”, drinking wine, and eating cheese.

I assisted Andrew with some shopping this morning, then he cooked us lunch. A splendid veggie-sausage casserole, with sundry extras, following by a condensed-milk syllabub to Andrew’s personal recipe (see http://qidane.livejournal.com/175999.html). A triumph.

Then we came home to watch “The Twin Dilemma”, a slice of 1984 not-quite-so-classic Who (although there are worse stories — “Time-Flight” for instance, or “Arc of Infinity”). Now we’re on to another Carmichael Wimsey: “The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club”. Beth has been hosting a tea party for her toys (soft toys and her inflatable Dalek), which involves her eating all the (real) sarnies, jellies, and jam tarts.

Back in the mid-90s when I was sharing the flat in Greenside Court with qidane, I bought a copy of “The Constance Spry Cookery Book” (first published 1956) from the bargain bookshop that used to be halfway along Church Street (where “Pots and Pans” is now). With over 1,000 pages, it is a useful resource for traditional recipes and practical advice, as well as variations that reflect its origin in the era of rationing.

One recipe that I’ve long intended to try is “Condensed Milk Dressing”, which sits in her pages of uncooked salad dressings between “Beetroot Dressing (Rich)” and “Cream Dressing (Thick)”. This evening I made it, to go with a mixed salad that Andrew prepared of lettuce, tomato, sweetcorn, red pepper, celery, and grated carrot.

kateaw looked at the dressing (knowing what had gone into it) and said “I’m scared!” then tasted it and said “Yummy!”.

Ingredients

3–4 tablespoons sweetened condensed milk
half teaspoon of salt
fresh black pepper
1 dessertspoon salad oil
1 good teaspoon made mustard
5 tablespoons French wine vinegar
chopped herbs to taste

Instructions

Add salt and pepper to condensed milk, mix well. Stir in mustard and oil and beat. Finally add vinegar and chopped herbs.

Back in the mid-90s when I was sharing the flat in Greenside Court with qidane, I bought a copy of “The Constance Spry Cookery Book” (first published 1956) from the bargain bookshop that used to be halfway along Church Street (where “Pots and Pans” is now). With over 1,000 pages, it is a useful resource for traditional recipes and practical advice, as well as variations that reflect its origin in the era of rationing.

One recipe that I’ve long intended to try is “Condensed Milk Dressing”, which sits in her pages of uncooked salad dressings between “Beetroot Dressing (Rich)” and “Cream Dressing (Thick)”. This evening I made it, to go with a mixed salad that Andrew prepared of lettuce, tomato, sweetcorn, red pepper, celery, and grated carrot.

kateaw looked at the dressing (knowing what had gone into it) and said “I’m scared!” then tasted it and said “Yummy!”.

Ingredients

3–4 tablespoons sweetened condensed milk
half teaspoon of salt
fresh black pepper
1 dessertspoon salad oil
1 good teaspoon made mustard
5 tablespoons French wine vinegar
chopped herbs to taste

Instructions

Add salt and pepper to condensed milk, mix well. Stir in mustard and oil and beat. Finally add vinegar and chopped herbs.

For our dinner party on 31 December we had an American theme to the menu; the pudding was Key Lime Pie. Having heard about it, and seen it on television programmes, I was keen to cook one (particularly as it includes my favourite ingredient, condensed milk). So I had a search online for recipes.

Key Lime Pie originated in Florida in the 1800s. Before refrigeration, fresh milk was difficult to store in a warm state, so condensed milk became particularly popular. Originally made with a pastry base, many of the recipes I found called for a “Graham Cracker” base, for which I assumed I could substitute digestive biscuits. The pie filling is traditionally made with key limes, a smaller, tangier type of lime found in Florida. As they are not commonly available in St Andrews, I plumped for regular limes. The pie is sometimes served with a meringue topping, rather like lemon meringue pie, but I chose not to go in that direction.

I made the pie in individual ramekins; the instructions below made eight. I cooked them for twelve minutes, which left them with a dry, cheesecake-style texture, which was pleasant, but I guess seriously overcooked. Next time I’ll try cooking them for eight minutes if I do it in ramekins again. I guess making a single larger pie would require a longer cooking time than the ramekins.

Ingredients

1 tin of condensed milk
250ml lime juice
zest of 2 limes
5 egg yolks
digestive biscuits for base
butter for base
cream for whipping

Instructions

Make a pie base from crushed digestives and melted butter, and put it in the pie tin.

Blend the condensed milk with the egg yolks.

Add the lime juice and zest to the mixture, and blend.

Put the mixture on top of the pie base, and bake at 180C until ready (perhaps 8 to 10 minutes). Chill before serving with whipped cream.

For our dinner party on 31 December we had an American theme to the menu; the pudding was Key Lime Pie. Having heard about it, and seen it on television programmes, I was keen to cook one (particularly as it includes my favourite ingredient, condensed milk). So I had a search online for recipes.

Key Lime Pie originated in Florida in the 1800s. Before refrigeration, fresh milk was difficult to store in a warm state, so condensed milk became particularly popular. Originally made with a pastry base, many of the recipes I found called for a “Graham Cracker” base, for which I assumed I could substitute digestive biscuits. The pie filling is traditionally made with key limes, a smaller, tangier type of lime found in Florida. As they are not commonly available in St Andrews, I plumped for regular limes. The pie is sometimes served with a meringue topping, rather like lemon meringue pie, but I chose not to go in that direction.

I made the pie in individual ramekins; the instructions below made eight. I cooked them for twelve minutes, which left them with a dry, cheesecake-style texture, which was pleasant, but I guess seriously overcooked. Next time I’ll try cooking them for eight minutes if I do it in ramekins again. I guess making a single larger pie would require a longer cooking time than the ramekins.

Ingredients

1 tin of condensed milk
250ml lime juice
zest of 2 limes
5 egg yolks
digestive biscuits for base
butter for base
cream for whipping

Instructions

Make a pie base from crushed digestives and melted butter, and put it in the pie tin.

Blend the condensed milk with the egg yolks.

Add the lime juice and zest to the mixture, and blend.

Put the mixture on top of the pie base, and bake at 180C until ready (perhaps 8 to 10 minutes). Chill before serving with whipped cream.

Every year for Christmas my best present is always a tin of condensed milk. When I was a child, my father, brother, and I, each received an annual tin; I can't remember whether Polly ever developed the taste for it. The tin would be opened on Christmas Day, and then kept in the fridge and consumed with a teaspoon over the coming days. Sheer joy. For me, the taste of Christmas is the taste of condensed milk.

I'd be happy to forego all other puddings, to never eat chocolate again, and for ice cream to disappear from the supermarket shelves, as long as I had an annual tin of condensed milk.

Every year for Christmas my best present is always a tin of condensed milk. When I was a child, my father, brother, and I, each received an annual tin; I can't remember whether Polly ever developed the taste for it. The tin would be opened on Christmas Day, and then kept in the fridge and consumed with a teaspoon over the coming days. Sheer joy. For me, the taste of Christmas is the taste of condensed milk.

I'd be happy to forego all other puddings, to never eat chocolate again, and for ice cream to disappear from the supermarket shelves, as long as I had an annual tin of condensed milk.

I bought strawberries to make ice cream, but I forgot to buy cream. That is limiting. So do I make a strawberry ice cream with a tin of condensed milk, or a strawberry frozen yoghurt?

This entry was originally posted at http://tobyaw.dreamwidth.org/162573.html.