Fennel Seed Bread Recipe

In one of my regular lunch joints, Bestseller Cafe in Viru Keskus (Tallinn), they sometimes serve soup with large chunks of fennel seed bread. Although I'm in somewhat uneasy terms with things aniseedy and liquoricey, I do like that spicy bread a lot. And therefore I couldn't help but try the fennel seed bread recipe that Clivia posted last month. Granted, I changed the recipe - originally from a Swedish baking guru Anna Bergenström - a little (omitting sunflower seeds, making two loaves instead of one, adding salt later in the process, etc), but it's still thanks to Clivia that I've discovered another keeper-recipe. Tack, Kristina!!!

Fennel Seeds (Foeniculum vulgare Mill., apteegitilliseemned ehk ristköömned) are a great spice to use in baking, bread, compotes, pickles and liqueurs, but can also be used to season fish dishes, salads and sauces. If you're interested in fennel seeds' medicinal properties, then you should remember that the seeds are also good for your digestive system and can ease the symptoms of a bad cough.

Fennel Seed Bread
(Apteegitilliseemnesai)
Makes 2 loaves



25 grams fresh yeast
1 Tbsp honey
400 ml tepid water
600 g plain flour (1 litre/about 4 cups)
1 tsp salt
2 tsp fennel seeds, slightly crushed

Crumble the yeast into a large bowl, add honey and stir, until yeast and honey melt into one. Add the tepid water, stir again.
Now add most of the flour, as well as salt and crushed fennel seeds. Stir with a wooden spoon until combined, adding more flour, if the dough is too wet. (I kneaded the dough for 5 minutes in my KitchenAid, then another 2 minutes by hand).
Cover the bowl with a clean towel or clingfilm and let dough rise in a warm, draft-free place about one to two hours, until double in bulk.
Punch down dough. Divide it into two equally sized pieces. Form each dough piece into an oblong loaf on slightly floured surface.
Line a baking sheet with a parchment paper, and lift the dough pieces onto the baking sheet.
Heat the oven to 250 C, and let the dough rise for another 15-20 minutes.
Bake the loaves in the middle of the 250 C oven for 15 minutes, then lower the heat to 150 C and continue baking for about 20 minutes longer, until the bread is light golden brown, and the bread sounds 'hollow' when you tap onto the bottom.
Let cool on a metal rack, loosely covered with a towel.

K is guest-blogging about Cannelés, those little caramelised, irresistible buns from Bordeaux

[Pille is off to Budapest for a few days, so K. is using the opportunity to guest-blog again..]

Few years ago I took some French language courses in the city of Bordeaux, and opted for accommodation with a local family. I ended up staying with an excellent old-school French hosts: a retired couple Marie-Lucie and her husband Jean-Pierre, who had accommodated over hundred language students over the years.

Just before my arrival, the family had accommodated a student from Saudi Arabia, for whom it was the first trip outside his home country. Coming from deeply religious surroundings he couldn’t eat pork or drink wine. Seeing students from all over the world, always joyful Marie-Lucie was used to different cultures. But she also adored cooking and eating traditional and delicious French food, including some Clairet wine and hearty pork dishes... Sitting together at a dinner table was a sacred tradition for Marie-Lucie and Jean-Pierre. You can imagine how relieved they were to welcome a hungry Estonian guy appreciating everything her kitchen had to offer. In turn, I was ready to learn and be seduced by the Bordeaux cuisine.

During my two-week stay we savoured four-course dinners at home almost on a daily basis. The entire house was open for guests, except the kitchen in the mornings. It was behind these closed kitchen doors that Marie-Lucie and Jean-Pierre decided on the evening's menu. Most of the recipes were kept as small handwritten notes in huge plastic boxes labelled “poissons/crustaces”, “viande”, “entrées/legumes” etc (see photo on the right).

As expected, I could not keep myself out of the kitchen, and I learned many things. For example, do you know what the secret of happy marriage is? If wife and husband do not have an argument about finances, but argue about the perfect recipe for Tomates Antiboise. Jean-Pierre put the capers together with canned tuna into a blender. While I asked tête-à-tête from Marie-Lucie whether it would be better to chop the capers, she said that when they had been younger, she had a big argument with Jean-Pierre about this fundamental issue and she personally thinks that the capers should be chopped with knife instead of crushed in blender. But now, after several decades of conjugal life, she has given up and lets her beloved husband to do like he wants. On the other hand, although Jean-Pierre liked tête de veau, a French classic dish so vividly described in A Cook's Tour by Anthony Bourdain, and knew how to make it, it was a forgotten delicacy in the family as Marie-Lucie was not particularly fond of it.

I also had breakfasts at their home, enjoying different jams and cheeses. One weekend morning I was served innocent-looking buns that tasted superb. Before even noticing, I was already reaching for the fifth bun. Later I have learned that substantial quantities of cannelés can vanish very quickly in the presence of children and grown-ups alike. This was my first experience with cannelés, a miracle bun from Bordeaux that has not only an extensive Wikipedia entry in English, but even several dedicated web sites in French. Cannelé has interesting history, wrapped in the mystery.

This simple pastry, made of eggs, milk and flour flavoured with rum and vanilla is currently hugely popular both in Aquitaine and Gironde, with hundreds of producers. But as it turns out, it is rather easy to bake at home. Marie-Lucie kept always the batter on hand when the grandchildren were visiting, because they always asked for cannelés.

Traditionally, cannelés are baked in special metal fluted moulds (cannelé means 'fluted'). We have got silicone moulds at home - they are easier to handle, even if they don't yield as caramelised crust as metal moulds do. Usually 8 cannelés can be made with one mould and I strongly recommend buying at least two. If you're based in the US, then you can buy tin-lined copper cannelé molds and silicon mini cannelé molds - both by Matfer Bourgeat - from Amazon.com.

Cannelés
(Cannelé koogikesed)
Makes 16



500 ml milk
25 g butter
100 g plain/all-purpose flour
a pinch of salt
250 g sugar
4 egg yolks and 2 egg whites
1 Tbsp of rum
2 tsp of Bourbon vanilla extract

Whisk sugar, eggs and flour in a large bowl.
Bring milk and butter to a boil in a saucepan. Slowly whish into the egg mixture, stirring constantly.
Add vanilla.
Let cool to room temperature, then add rum.
The batter should be rather runny, just like a crepe batter.
Cover the mixture and keep it in the fridge for at least overnight or up to two days.
When ready to bake your cannelés, stir the batter again, and fill the prepared cannelé moulds three-quarters full.
Start baking at 275C, after 5-10 minutes lower the temperature to 200C and continue baking around 40-50 minutes until cannelés are dark golden to almost blackish brown*.
Extract from the moulds when cannelés are still hot. Cannelés should have a caramelised crust and be chewy, yet soft, inside.

Although I am very happy with the flavour of these cannelés, I have not yet figured out why my cannelés always 'climb' out of the moulds during baking. They finally fall back to the 'normal' size, but not always evenly, leaving the shapes somewhat uneven. I appreciate if you can give me a hint on this one.

* There seem to be two schools: those, who like cannelés golden brown outside and those who prefer them caramelised to black. At the stores in Bordeaux they are usually blackish.

You can read more about cannelés from these foodblogs: Chocolate & Zucchini, Kuidaore, La Tartine Gourmande (and Bea again), The Traveler's Lunchbox and 101 Cookbooks.

Previous guest posts on Nami-nami:
K is guest-blogging about Heston Blumenthal's perfect ice cream (August 2007)

Thanksgiving Pumpkin Risotto, and sunny Arancini rice balls

We don't celebrate Thanksgiving here in Estonia, obviously, but as so many foodbloggers are currently posting their favourite pumpkin recipes, I decided to join the bandwagon as well. So here's a recipe for a beautifully coloured pumpkin risotto - a handy way to use up that pound of pumpkin flesh that pumpkin-carvers across the world would have these days. As for the leftover risotto, I've nicked Shaun's recipe for beautiful beetroot arancini and made pumpkin arancini instead.

Pumpkin Risotto
(Kõrvitsarisoto)
Based on Angeelika Kang's recipe for pumpkin risotto in the October 2007 issue of Oma Maitse
Serves 4



50 g butter
2 finely chopped medium onions
2 finely chopped garlic cloves
300 g Carnaoli risotto rice
400 g finely cubed pumpkin flesh
150 ml dry white wine
1 litre hot vegetable stock
a generous handful of finely chopped flat-leaf parsley
100 g grated Parmesan cheese
salt
coarsely ground black pepper

In a small saucepan, bring the vegetable stock to a boil, reduce heat and keep it on slow simmer.
Heat the butter in a large saucepan, add the onion and fry gently for 5 minutes to soften, stirring frequently.
Add garlic, fry for another 5 minutes, stirring every now and then.
Add the rice, heat for 2-3 minutes, stirring.
Add pumpkin cubes and stir gently for about a minute.
Add the wine, bring to simmer. Now add a generous ladleful or two of hot stock and stir gently, until the rice has absorbed the stock.
Add another ladleful or two of stock and stir, until this has been absorbed. Continue for about 20 minutes, until the rice has softened to al dente stage, and you've got a lovely creamy risotto (this would take about 20-25 minutes, depending on the rice).
Add the chopped parsley and most of the grated parmesan cheese.
Season with salt and pepper and serve at once.

Pumpkin Arancini Rice Balls
(Arancini e. frititud risotopallid)
Based on Shaun's recipe
Serves 2



For the rice mixture:
approximately a cup of leftover risotto
1 egg
5 Tbsp breadcrumbs
1 tablespoon finely chopped fresh parsley
cubed cheese (Mozzarella, Fontina - I used Estonian 'Atleet' cheese:)

For breadcrumb mixture:
4 Tbsp breadcrumbs
0.5 Tbsp finely chopped fresh parsley

For frying:
light olive oil or rapeseed oil

For sprinkling:
Maldon sea salt flakes

Heat about 3 cm oil in a small saucepan.
Mix together the pumpkin risotto, egg, 5 Tbsp of breadcrumbs and 1 Tbsp parsley in a large bowl.
Cut the cheese into 1 cm cubes.
Combine the breadcrumbs and parsley for breading on a flat plate. Put aside.
Use about 2 Tbsp rice mix per rice ball. Flatten the rice mixture in the palm of your hand, place a cheese cube in the centre, and wrap the rice mixture around the cheese cube. Form into a nice round ball.
Roll the balls in the parsley-breadcrumb mixture (see photo below).
Fry in the hot oil until browned, crisped and heated through - approximately 4 minutes.
Drain on a paper towel, sprinkle with Maldon sea salt.
Serve and enjoy!



Other arancini recipes:
Winter Skies, Kitchen Aglow
Amateur Gourmet
One Whole Clove