A is for Absinthe

Absinthe - a famous, or infamous liqueur, absinthe takes it's name from the aromatic plant which contains an alkaloid used since ancient times as a tonic. Wormwood is the principle one of the 14 herbs which are macerated in grape spirit, but hyssop and mint are included. It is famous for it's green colour. 

I meant to post this entry a few weeks ago, but got distracted.  Having purchased an Absinthe miniature a couple of months ago, I used a couple of tablespoons of it to cook with and gave the rest to a university friend, who was broke and facing an evening of being sober and sociable.  Technically I haven't seen her since, but I hear she's fine. I did not try the Absinthe in it's uncooked state - to me, it smelled and looked just like "Difflam Oral Rinse", a mouthwash designed to cure sore throats and mouth ulcers. Useful stuff, but I'd never be inclined to cook with it. 

To fulfil this entry in Larousse, I made Candied Pears in Absinthe. (Actually, I admit they were meant to be Poached Pears in Absinthe, but due to a happy accident with sugar-to-water ratios they ended up partly candied, so I thought I may as well keep going and fully candy them). I love candied fruit and until now never realised quite how easy it is to make.

(My apologies for the lack of photos currently in this post - I do plan to remake this in order to provide photographic guidance - originally the pears were eaten before they could be photographed. )

Candied Pears in Absinthe
Notes:  (Please read before you commence cooking!) 

The pears which you use to make this must be very under-ripe. Completely rock hard and inedible, to be honest. This means that the pears will have the strength to survive the prolonged cooking, without disintegrating. Also, ripe pears would contribute a lot of liquid to the "sugar syrup" which the pears are poached in, meaning that the syrup would have to be cooked far longer to achieve the required concentration of sugar-to-liquid.  

Small pears work best for candying, since they take less time to become fully saturated with sugar syrup then a larger pear would - hence there is no time for the fruit to accidentally rot, or begin to ferment. I used a bag of Tesco value pears for this, which turned out the be perfect for the purpose.


I have not used a saccherometer (a hydrometer used to determine the concentration of sugar in a solution) for candying, since I do not have one. I appreciate that this does mean some accuracy is lost when attempting to replicate a recipe, however I personally think that I really good result can be achieved by using visual cues rather than measuring degrees Brix.  All pears are not created equal, which cannot be controlled for, so sometimes it seems meaningless to be "over-controlling" over one element of the recipe, such as the concentration of the sugar syrup, when the other element is equally variable. Furthermore, hobs, pans and sugar are variable, as are saccherometer's (to a certain extent), so why complicate matters further by adding Brix readings? At least, that's my reasoning. 


- 7 or 8 small pears 
- 2 cups granulated white sugar
- 1 cup of water
- Juice and zest of one lemon
A glug of Absinthe, to taste. 

(I appreciate that it may irritate some people that I've used "cups" rather than a weight measurement. This would normally irritate me slightly. However in this case it's the "ratio"  of sugar to water which is important, not the weight in itself. A mug will do, it does not have to be a specific measuring cup. This way, it's also far easier to scale up or down the recipe as required).  


1. Peel the pears and slice in half vertically. You may want to take the time to remove the seeds and stringy bits at this point (using a melon baller is the best way) but it's not completely necessary.  

2. Add the water, lemon juice, lemon zest and sugar to a pan, place over a medium heat and bring to the boil, stirring until the sugar dissolves. Add the absinthe. Add the pears to the pan and simmer without a lid on, until the pears are reaching a stage of "translucency" around all the outer edges. (At least 15 minutes, maybe up to 30). 

3. Remove the pan from the heat and pour the entire contents into a large Tupperware (sealable) box.  Leave at room temperature to go cold - it is during this time that the pears will absorb the sugar and become "saturated". 


(If you have done this in the morning, wait until evening and "reheat" according to the instructions below. If you have done the above in the evening, wait until the next morning and "reheat" as below). 


The reheating process - this ensures that the entire fruit is candied, not just the layers near the surface.
4. Place the contents of the Tupperware box (pears, syrup and all) into a pan and bring to boil for 5-7 minutes.  This prevents the fruit from fermenting, or going mouldy during the "cooling off/saturating time".  It also helps the saturating process. 


5. Pour the mixture back into the box and leave to cool at room temperature, again. 





To store, you can either sterilise glass jars and pour in the pears with the syrup (reheating once more in order to do this in a sterile fashion), or take the pears out of the syrup and roll in granulated / other decorative sugars.

A is for Accolade, En.

En Accolade - a technique of arranging two pieces of meat or poultry, by leaning them against each other. 

I have accidentally left my copy of Larousse at university, so the above definition is not a quote, more of a "what I can remember" from the definition.  To cover this, I made Ballotine of Chicken en Accolade.  "Ballotine" being the technique of wrapping the chicken around a filling, forming into a "sausage" shape by wrapping in cling-film and poaching in chicken stock to cook.

The ballotine is stuffed with  ricotta, spinach and nutmeg mixture, served on a bed of crushed potatoes (home grown, I might add. I think these were the best bit) with caramelised fennel, balsamic tomatoes and potato gnocchi. The sauce is a mixture of basil pesto and white wine.  Presentation was never my strong point, but maybe one day I'll get the hang of it.

It was OK. I personally don't think the result was worth the amount of time spent making it. The chicken was dry, although it was interesting to work out how to make a ballotine. And it needed more of a sauce.  But it's all good cookery practise.

Also, I thought I'd share with you the baked Spaghetti Squash successfully grown in my back garden last year.

Looks fine, baked fine, but tasted a bit... foul, really. This one was baked with a knob of butter, brown sugar and nutmeg.  I've never gotten the hang of how to bake squash - they always have a bitter aftertaste whenever I try it. This one, like so many others, was no exception to the bitter aftertaste. Not sure where I'm going wrong.

Yes, it's the Christmas Holidays. Two weeks at home. (Yay!) Revising for January exams. (Gulp). I currently feel very far behind with revision. Partly thanks to the increased baking opportunities of being at home. Also, partly because I have spent the past couple of weeks drooling over Pierre Herme's Ph 10 book, which my parent's kindly bought me as a joint birthday/Christmas gift. 600 pages, written entirely in French and weighs a tonne. I can't wait to try it out.