“It looks like a hammerhead shark” said my friend. She’s right, it does. It certainly has presence that’s for sure – the thing is massive. Before I was sent the breadmaker for review, I’d briefly considered getting one. People had raved, “wake up to freshly baked bread!”  The idea sounds attractive, although the chances of my neurotic self leaving an electrical appliance on overnight are actually nil. Still, the simplicity appealed and I found it rather fascinating – chuck everything inside, select the programme and about 2 hours later you have a loaf. It certainly takes the ‘work’ out of baking, which is where I started to feel uneasy. Actually no, it was worse than that – I felt cheated.

To state the bleedin obvious, I am someone who very much enjoys cooking. I relish the hands-on creative process; mixing, shaping and nurturing to completion. The breadmaker of course does all this for you. As soon as my first loaf had popped from the tin, I found myself on Amazon buying a copy of Dan Lepard’s The Handmade Loaf; it was full of everything I’d just missed out on. In the introduction, DL describes how “the making with our own hands, is what enlivens us and makes us feel human.” I wanted to knead, shape and peek at the loaf rising, marvelling at the manipulation of gluten and yeast.

The breadmaker uses skimmed milk powder; vegetable oil and fast action dried yeast. DL of course uses fresh milk and advises seeking out fresh yeast whenever possible because the flavour and action are better. I began to call local bakeries. None of them baked on site and none of them knew where I could buy any fresh yeast. In the end I found it in a speciality food shop in East Dulwich, SMBS foods – one of those shops that sells everything. It has the added bonus of being difficult for the yummy mummys to cram their super-buggy spaceships into, making it one of the best shops in ED. Sorry, but I’ve been nipped on the Achilles tendon one too many times. If you don’t live near such a shop, try the baking section of your supermarket as they will often sell you some, under the counter.

I polished my halo and headed home to bake my first ever handmade loaf using fresh yeast. DL’s ‘quick white loaf’ seemed a logical place to start and the steps were very simple. I crumbled, mixed, shaped and left it in a warm place to rise. And it did – like a dream. I was overwhelmed with pride and satisfaction as my two loaves went into the oven but when I opened it 45 minutes later what I found was two hard, leaden lumps. Bugger. And with that the breadmaker got its own back. There is one major factor in its favour and that is consistency.

DL is an active Twitter user and so I asked him what went wrong. Apparently I let my dough rise too much in a too-hot kitchen. This only made me more determined; baking is a skill and I was focused on nailing it. The reward for perseverance was a loaf with superior flavour, texture, crumb, crust – there is literally no comparison to the somewhat synthetic and uniform breadmaker results. It may be consistent but consistency comes at the price of character.

So the breadmaker is not for me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t see how many people would love it. If you like freshly made bread and want something in between a shop bought and handmade loaf with no effort other than tipping in ingredients and pressing a few buttons then this is the product for you. Personally, I’d rather buy a handmade loaf from a bakery if I didn’t have time to make one myself. You may think I’m mad. Most people claim a breadmaker is a product they use once then leave in the spare room for the next three years as it’s just too much effort and here’s me complaining it wasn’t enough. I’m clearly off my rocker.

The Morphy Richards Premium Breadmaker product specifications and price here.

Damn you, pressure cooker! What is wrong with you? Or is it me?

People rave about their pressure cookers and how they can’t live without them, which is why I accepted the invitation to review one recently.* I was curious and terrified. All that hissing and steaming and well, pressure. Scary. A few days passed and it sat unused on the hob. Eventually, rather than just looking at the damn thing, I plucked up the courage to try using it. The idea of the PC is to produce the results of slow cooking in a fraction of the time. The first dish that sprang to my mind was curry goat.

The meat usually takes a lot of long, slow simmering to tenderise and I wondered how much the PC could shave off the cooking time. After 45 minutes I had a peek inside. The meat was tender – falling apart, but there was way too much liquid. This really threw me, because I’d worked out quantities according to the advice in the instruction booklet, resisting the temptation to add more due to multiple warnings that one must NOT LET THE PRESSURE COOKER BOIL DRY. I then had to reduce the sauce for another 45 minutes without the lid on, which defeated the whole point. A very disheartening first attempt.

Next I decided to try cooking a big hunk of meat in there. A joint of lamb marinated in pomegranate molasses went in, with some liquid. It cooked well, and fast. It was falling apart after cooking for a shade past an hour but I missed the crusty outer bits I’d get from a roast. The recipe is a keeper (coming soon) but the method, nah.

By this point the PR are wondering when the hell they are going to get their review. I didn’t want to say I couldn’t work it out before I’d given the thing a proper go though so it was time to move on to something else: dahl. All the Indian cooks I know told me that the PC revolutionises your relationship with lentils. “Cook a dahl in 15 minutes! You’ll never look back!” Okay. I started off frying the onions in the base of the PC just as you would a normal saucepan then added garlic, chilli and ginger, the spices, tomatoes and an alarmingly small amount of stock. After checking guideline amounts about 10 times I bit the bullet and got on with it; 15 minutes later and we were oohing and ahhing around the hob – perfectly tender chana dahl. At last, the sweet taste of success. I could now cook 1 thing in a pressure cooker.

Or so I thought. Today I made the exact same recipe. I added the same amount of liquid, the same quantities of everything and cooked it for the same amount of time. When I opened the lid however, the chana remained uncooked. People, I am baffled.

I don’t want to give up because I can see the value but frustration is really setting in. I’m a competent cook for Pete’s sake. Strange forces are at work here. The PR are probably going to wish they’d never got their review now, but it’s not like I don’t want to love it, I do. A decent dahl in 15 minutes really is something I could get used to and I want to try cooking chickpeas in it, and stews. Seriously though, I need advice. What am I doing wrong?  How can the exact same recipe cook differently on 2 separate occasions? Readers, it’s over to you.

Chana dahl with spinach (this is the recipe which worked the first time and took ten minutes longer to cook the second time around. However long it takes, it is delicious).

300g chana dahl
500ml stock or water
2 medium onions, finely chopped
3 cloves garlic, crushed
1 inch piece ginger, peeled and finely chopped
2 green chillies, finely sliced
2 large tomatoes, finely chopped
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1 teaspoon ground cumin
10 curry leaves
4 green cardamom pods
1 black cardamom pod
1 dried red chilli
1 cinnamon stick
1/2 teaspoon garam masala

1 large bunch of spinach (a few large handfuls)

Groundnut oil, for frying

Lemon wedges and chapattis, to serve. I also like mine with natural yoghurt and red onion slices

Start by using the pressure cooker like a normal saucepan. Set it over a medium heat, lid off. Heat a few tablespoons of groundnut oil then fry the onions, stirring often until softened and beginning to colour. Add the garlic, chilli and ginger and cook for a minute more, stirring constantly. Add all the spices and curry leaves and cook for 1 minute, stirring constantly. Add the tomatoes and lentils, stir to combine, then add the stock and some salt. Turn off the heat.

Fit the lid onto the pressure cooker and ensure it is secure. Make sure the pressure regulator is turned to the (I) position. Turn on the heat and after a few minutes the visual pressure indicator should rise, followed by a gentle hiss sound, meaning that the required pressure level has been reached.

Reduce the heat by approximately a third. The steam should be gently hissing and the pressure indicator should remain up. Start timing now and cook for 15 minutes.

After this time, turn off the heat and move the pressure regulator gently to the steam release position.

Remove the lid and stir in the spinach until wilted. Adjust the seasoning if necessary and serve.

*The Prestige ‘This Morning’ range is available at Debenhams (yes, ‘This Morning’ the daytime TV show). RRP: £80. I was sent the pressure cooker for review and did not pay for it.

Photo courtesy of Chris Osburn – here’s his photostream on Flickr

…how? In a delicious lip-smacker of a meal that’s how. Last week, Food Stories was rather chuffed to be dining with film (and now Good Oil) producers Henry Braham and Glynis Murray along with fellow bloggers and London foodie folk. We all gathered for some delicious home cooked grub, (courtesy of Braham and Murray’s charming son, Ben) – each course showing off the versatility of this splendid ingredient, squeezed, oozed and (cold) pressed from hemp seeds (no, it won’t get you high).

The oil is ridiculously healthy, seriously sustainable to produce and boasts a delicious, unique flavour. The predominant taste is nutty, although not overpoweringly so. You can basically use it just like an olive oil, which is exactly what I intend to do over the next few weeks and, most likely, beyond. You see, the taste isn’t the only good thing Good Oil has going on, it’s packin the essential fatty acids, Omega 3, 6 and 9, contains half the saturated fat of olive oil and zero trans fats – now that’s just showing off.

Pea and pecorino crostini

We kicked off the eating with some pea and pecorino crostini, a rather happy shade of green, smooth and chunky at the same time, fresh and slightly cheesy, with a gorgeous nuttiness from the oil.

Good Oil mash

Next up was a delicious venison and cranberry casserole served with Good Oil mash – I loved the little bursts of sweetness from the cranberries all soaking into the spuds. The oil made the mash feel wonderfully virtuous – I visualised the goodness going in, feeling healthier by the second.

Cheese, bread and salad arrived shortly afterwards and I wasted no time in drizzling some of the oil onto the blue and Cornish Yarg, which I can highly recommend. To finish, we feasted on vanilla ice cream drizzled with, you’ve guessed it – some more of that oil.

Ice cream with Good Oil

Strangely, I wasn’t the least bit sceptical about this combination and I am pleased to tell you with confidence that it works, it really works! If that meal doesn’t show you the versatility of Good Oil then I don’t know what will – although I’m sure to be cooking up a few ideas over the coming weeks. This morning I tried out Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall’s suggestion of sprinkling it on toast and very nice it was too.

Cheese, bread, salad and Good Oil

It was lovely to hear the story behind the oil – from the tragedy of the foot and mouth crisis, through the loss of entire crops and even a visit from the old bill – “growing a big field of hemp are we?” Braham and Murray have spent eight years refining the flavour of the oil – this is not the musty, dusty old bottles of hemp oil you used to see in a darkened corner of the health food shop, all weird and overpowering (hold your nose and swallow, it’s good for you!). It’s always a pleasure to spend time with people who truly believe in their product, and that is certainly the case here. I shall be welcoming Good Oil into my kitchen as will my fellow diners I am sure. All seated around the long wooden table, we couldn’t help commenting on how it felt like one big Good Oil family!

Henry Braham, Epicurienne and the dogs

Check out the Good Oil website for more information about the products and history. There’s also the Good Oil facebook page for titbits and recipes (you can even request a free sample).