Yorkshire pudding making under fire

The weather is 'persisting it down' here in Creuse, limousin Central France and it's very cold as the short but sharp winter starts to set in. Our three geese are loving it as they just love to waddle in the mud and face into the driving wind and rain. perhaps they would not be so happy if they were to find out what's in store for most of the geese in the area with Christmas looming. £30-£45 for a free range goose for Christmas and we have 3 of them. .....I have not got the heart for it as Spot, Tickle and Campbell are our pets and they make fantastic guard geese. Much better than a dog and far cheaper as grass and weeds are free.

Our free range chickens pictured behind the geese look very funny when they are soaking wet. They are all skin and bone under their feathers and seam to shrink in size the more wetter they become but their freshly laid free range eggs are delicious and fantastic for cooking with. Which leads me nicely on to the topic of 'Yorkshire Puddings' and I don't mean that lot that live t'ther side of Pennines.

I have always liked making Yorkies as I call them and usually got the task of making them for Sunday lunches or functions in the hotel restaurants that I have worked for in the past. That is when I had mastered the art of making them. I remember when I was a young apprentice chef and the head chef allotted the task of making over 140 Yorkies for Sunday lunch to me. In my enthusiasm I grabbed a couple of trays of eggs, heaps of flour and water and put it all in the Hobart industrial mixer and knocked up a huge batch of batter mix. I oiled the Yorkie trays, heated them up in the convector oven, poured the mix into the trays and banged them in the oven slamming the double doors behind me as I set about my other duties.

Time passed by and the Sous chef decided that he would check on my progress. He walked over to the convector oven and looked inside. The look on his face said it all and the arrival of the Head chef followed by a flurry of kitchen french that a Frenchman could not understand as well as being unprintable and I knew I was in big trouble. I heard the word Merde mentioned a few time and looked over to the oven where a small crowd of tut tutting chefs had gathered. More kitchen French followed and as I walked slowly over to the oven and my certain death at the hands of a crazed judo loving Head chef, who thought nothing of practising a devilishly painful judo throw or a back snapping judo press on an unsuspecting commie in the middle of service. To make things worse he was from Yorkshire of all places. I looked in to the oven and saw that my Yorkies were giving pancakes a run for their money.

After a few seconds of questioning my parentage and more utterings of Merde accompanied with facial colours ranging from purple to black and a quick impression of Vesuvius the Head chef burst in to action and issued a shed load of instruction to all around and my Yorkies were consigned to the pigs dinner and I was told to take my mix down to larder and put it into the fridge. I could of sworn I heard someone saying "looks like toad in hole for staff tea tonight" as I trudged crest fallen down to the larder. The chef delegated 'The Big Man' to take over making the puddings and show me how to do it right. I will call the chef who showed me how to make Yorkies 'The Big Man' as he was a walking toilet door with clogs and whites on and from Scotland. Fiercely Scottish and proud of it along with an impish grin and smile that melted the hearts of several of the hotel receptionists and a few others from surrounding hotels but that's another story....

He was an animal who stood over 6 feet tall massive chest and broad shoulders and walked with a slightly bow legged gait. He could could drink like a fish, eat like a hog, swear like a trooper and shift a few waiters over the hot plate if he thought they were deserving it or not. Kitchens were sometimes a violent place to work in and tempers often got frayed and waiters for some reason had the contents of a skillet or serving dish tipped over their heads. They would of course be finished of with a suitable selection of garnishes and sent on their merry way. The Head chef insisted that all food that left the hot plate had to be served with proper garnishes and served on a silver platter but often the waiters didn't hang around to collect it and those that did where to slow at running away.

The first thing he told was the recipe and to follow his instructions to the letter.
as we would both be making identical mixes. The recipe is as follows:-

Half a pint of water,
Half a pint of milk,
10 ounces of plain flour
4 eggs (Free range if possible) We are lucky because we have 17 free range chickens and they provide fresh eggs daily.
salt&pepper.

This will make between 10 and 24 puddings depending on the size of trays used. We always used the extra large trays that only have four moulds per tray and doubled up the mix according to the numbers we required

Method:-

Weigh out the flour, some people say sieve the flour but the 'beastie from Scotland said not to bother with sieving but not in so many words, something to do with sex and travel I recall

measure the milk and water exactly

Preheat your oven on almost it's highest setting

Mix the eggs in a large bowl in a figure of eight pattern (I thought the chef was pulling my leg when he said that but did as I was told for fear of being on the receiving end of his over sized clogs in the seat of my pants

Add salt&pepper to season and whisk in half the quantity of flour and whisk in a figure of eight pattern until a smooth batter is achieved

Oil the Yorkshire pudding trays with enough to cover the bottom of the moulds used and a little extra for luck and place in the oven,

Add the other half of flour until a smooth mix is achieved again. The object being to whisk in air to enable the mix to rise properly. Pour some mix into a measuring jug to help you fill the moulds easily and quickly,

When the oil in the trays in the oven is on the point of smoking take the tray/s out of the oven but make sure you open and close the doors slowly and do not slam the doors. This causes cold air to rush in to the oven and spoil your mix.

Quickly pour in the mix and put tray/s back in the oven whilst opening and closing the doors slowly without slamming. Try to avoid spills round the edges of the moulds as if left they can prevent the batter from rising evenly and you can end up with sloping puddings

After about 8-10 minutes your puddings should have risen as far as they can and you can turn the oven down to a medium setting and let the puddings finish off. Some people say that the puddings should be soft and doughy and some say they should be firm and crispy. It's a matter of taste or preferences. Take them out when soft or leave them a little longer on a lower heat setting to crisp them up.

All this talk of Yorkshire pudding has got my taste buds activated and I am going to make some to go with my roast lamb dinner that I am planning for later. Yorkshire pudding served with roast lamb and not roast beef!! Traditionalists would say that it is a travesty of almost biblical proportions to serve lamb and Yorkies together. I say why not? The price of food and meat these days is stretching the family budgets to breaking point along with the massive hikes in fuel and energy bills by the greedy barstewards that run the companies. Massive pay rises and bonuses to their upper management, free share hand outs and putting hard working people on the dole while they feather their nests with insulting pension rights.....Hanging is to good for them...ooogh eergh I digress forgive me for my rantings

It makes sense to use puddings to compensate for the lack of plenty of meat. My Dad told me that my Grandad used to say to all the 7 children in the family... whoever eats the most pudding gets the most meat. The pudding was served before the main course in his house. He would eat only a little pudding and watch the family fill them selves up with pudding and have no room for meat. Therefore allowing him to have the largest portion. The older members of the family got wise to that but it did not stop them trying to eat as much pudding as they could.

I swear that Umma our black Labrador knows what I am writing about. She loves them and works her self in to a tail wagging frenzy when she smells them cooking in the oven. It could be said that a Labrador is a Labrador and it will eat anything put in front of it and not bother what it is. We put pieces of pudding in her bowl and then put dog biscuits, gravy and any other tit bits and watch with amazement as she use her nose and tongue to move the contents around to get at the pudding underneath. It would also appear that Bloomfield our strawberry blond cat has a penchant for them as she managed to paw one of the cooling tray before I could put them away.

Yorkshire pudding mix is versatile and can be used with sausages for a 'Toad in T' Hole' or any left over mix can be used to make a savoury pancakes or add sugar to make it a sweet pancake. Or do what a Sous chef I worked with used to do and that was put ice-cream in the center of the pudding and top of with maple syrup whipped cream.

So that is how I learned to make Yorkshire puddings. A Lancashire lad taught by a Scotsman to make perfect puddings for a Yorkshire man. Remember that failed mix that I put in to the fridge earlier on and was going to be used for staff tea. Well the Head chef stormed into the walk in fridge a little later on after some one else had failed to meet his exacting standards. He knocked over the bowl and the mix spilled all over his boots and checks. I heard the noise erupting from the larder and I knew I was in for another rollicking as I had left the mix on the floor near the fridge door. Ooops.

I do miss the kitchen life sometimes and remember the fun and games along with the hard work that a young trainee chef had to endure in those days. We worked long and many unpaid hours in the kitchens to learn our trade. Many of the positions in most of the hotels that I have worked in were 'Live In All Found' and we had no bills to pay for and what we earned after tax and national insurance was all our own. The pay back was that we worked 'hours as required' No walking out of the kitchen when your 40 hours where up. You stayed until the job was finished and then you got cleaned up and headed for the nearest pub or night club for a binge of speed drinking and a night of trying to chat up the latest arrival to the hotel and catering fraternity. You would not believe the things that went on...or would you? The politically correct crowd would have a field day.

Another time perhaps!

Good luck with your Yorkshire Puddings

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