Sunday, 19 February 2017

Beetroot Labneh

I first made this ‘pink labneh’ with my two young sons – one who loves labneh and one who loves everything pink – as a way of reintroducing them to beetroot. Both ate beetroot as babies (one perhaps more enthusiastically than the other). I remember their messy, pink stained faces and bibs that never came clean again.  But when they hit their selective eating phases during their toddler years, beetroot was high up the rejection list. 

I can see why. I love beetroot for its sweet, earthy flavour, but it isn't a vegetable that is eaten every week, so it becomes alien. Viewed with suspicion by cautious eaters. The vibrant colour of this labneh reeled them in eventually. It's hard to resist something so bright.  

Simple to make and visually stunning, this beetroot labneh works well as a pre-dinner dip or as part of a more substantial lunch. I like to serve it with dark rye bread and smoked mackerel.

You will need to make this the day before you want to eat it as the labneh needs to sit in the fridge to strain over night.


2 medium beetroot
250g whole milk yogurt
1 tsp lemon juice
¼ tsp salt (optional)

To serve:

2 tbsp toasted walnuts, roughly chopped
a few fronds of dill
walnut oil (optional)


Begin by cooking the beetroot. Preheat the oven to 190°C (170°C fan).

Cut the leaves off the beetroot and discard them, but do not top and tail the beetroot at this stage. Wash the beetroot and wrap it in foil. Place the foil wrapped beetroot on a baking tray and put it in the oven. Roast for 1 to 1½ hours until cooked through. You can test whether the beetroot is cooked by unwrapping the foil and piercing the beetroot with the end of a sharp knife. The beetroot is cooked when the beetroot is tender and the knife slides easily into the beetroot.

Leave the beetroot until it is cool enough to handle.

Once cooled, top and tail the beetroot and peel it (it is probably a good idea to wear washing up gloves to handle the beetroot, otherwise you will end up with pink fingers). The skin should rub off easily. Put the peeled beetroot into a food processor or blender and blitz to a purée. Depending on the size of your beetroot, you should end up with around 150g beetroot purée.

In a small bowl, mix together the yogurt, lemon juice, 150g beetroot puree and the salt (if using – leave the salt out if you are making this for babies or young children) until combined.

Line a sieve with a piece of muslin and place it over a bowl. Put the beetroot mixture into the muslin-lined sieve. Draw up the sides of the muslin and twist together so that the beetroot mixture forms a ball (see photo below). Leave in the fridge for 12-24 hours to strain.

Put the beetroot labneh into a serving dish and top with chopped toasted walnuts, dill and, if you have some, a little walnut oil. Serve with crackers, crispbread or crudités.

This is the full version of my Beetroot Labneh recipe which appeared on the Peter's Yard website as part of their 7 Dips for 7 Days campaign earlier this month.

Thursday, 9 February 2017

Blood Orange, Fennel & Hazelnut Salad

On a grey and dank Winter’s day, when even the thought of waiting at a bus stop or standing in the playground whilst your toddler heads for his five hundredth go on the slide fills you with frostbite dread, this little salad is a shining beacon of lunchtime pleasure. Vibrant, tart and crisp. Everything a winter salad should be.

I am a little ashamed to admit that when I encountered a blood orange for the first time, it was not love at first sight. In much the same way as I have done with my boys in recent years, my Mum proffered this golden globe like a precious jewel to behold. A rare, seasonal treat, which undoubtedly cost her an arm and a leg, but which she was excited and happy to share with me.

I wasn’t a squeamish child, but I just could not see past the word ‘blood’. I truly believed that this precious orange had been tainted, so I failed to understand and share my Mum’s enthusiasm.

Making up for all those lost years I now gorge myself on them. Particularly Sicilian blood oranges which, for me, are the best. And what’s more, I don’t have to share. For now at least.


1 large bulb of fennel
4 blood oranges
40g good hazelnuts, toasted
¼ tsp Malden salt
1 tbsp lemon juice
2 tbsp cold pressed rapeseed oil*


In a medium sized bowl, whisk together the salt and lemon juice with a fork. Add the oil and whisk again. Set to one side. 

Remove the leafy fronds from the fennel and set to one side. Cut the fennel in half lengthways and then, using a sharp knife or a mandolin, slice the fennel as thin as you can. Put the sliced fennel into the bowl and turn well in the dressing.

Using a sharp knife, slice off the top and the bottom off one of the blood oranges. Sit the orange flat on a chopping board and remove the skin and pith by slicing the knife downwards between the flesh and the skin. Work your way around the orange until all of the skin and white pith has been removed and discarded. Set to one side and repeat with the remaining three blood oranges.

Slice the blood oranges through the centre into slices about ½cm thick. Roughly chop the toasted hazelnuts.

Arrange the dressed fennel on a serving plate and add the blood orange slices. Scatter the toasted hazelnuts and fennel fronds over the top. Serve straight away.

*If you have a bottle of good hazelnut oil, substitute 1 tablespoon of the rapeseed oil for hazelnut oil.

Wednesday, 4 January 2017

Winter Slaw (or the only way to eat red cabbage)

Red cabbage and sprouts. Two vegetables best eaten raw. 

After a childhood of sprout and red cabbage aversion (in which I am fully aware I am not alone) it was a revelation to discover that neither require nor, in my most humble opinion, benefit from cooking. 

Nine. That was the number of sprouts on my plate as a child. Nine. What sort of parents make their sprout-detesting child sit and look at nine whole sprouts? Mine. Although of course they'll laugh and dismiss the very idea if I ever mention it. I recall my attempts to disguise them from myself by smothering them in mashed swede (why sully a decent element of my roast dinner with the dreaded sprouts when I could combine two of the most revolting foods on my plate?). Luckily for me I had younger siblings who were rather partial to a sprout or two. So with a little distraction and the odd flick of a knife here and there, I managed to offload a few. The requirement to eat nine did eventually reduce to three. Three. Still three too many. 

The first time I willing ate, and (gasp) actually enjoyed, sprouts was with family in France last Easter. A simple salad of finely shaved raw sprouts, lemon, cheese and hazelnuts made by Lisa. I even had seconds. 

Red cabbage at its best

Red cabbage was no better. As a child I only ever knew it slowly braised with apple or pickled and served straight from the jar along side homemade shepherd's pie. (I'm guessing that's a northern thing). Pickled I could live with, crisp at least, even if the vinegar it was doused in was of the most mouth-stripping, astringent kind. But braised was up there with the worst of the over cooked sprouts. Slightly sweet, heady with clove and allspice. It has a bit of the marmites about it. Love it or hate it. 

A winter slaw is where red cabbage excels. I'm not overly fond of the traditional coleslaw. Vegetables which have spent too long languishing in a creamy, almost cloying, sauce made with excessive amounts of cheap mayonnaise. (Although that is not to say that a simple, well made celeriac rémoulade would be banished from my plate. An entirely different beast. Crisp celeriac given the briefest of introductions to lemon juice, Dijon mustard, good mayonnaise and a little natural yogurt. Perhaps tinged pink with grated beetroot stirred through moments before serving). 

When a red cabbage finds its way into my fridge it is for the sole purpose of making a salad. A crisp, colourful, wintery salad. Or three or four. It is a bountiful vegetable which keeps on giving, staying fresh long after the parsley has wilted, making this salad a great fridge foraged lunch.

You don't have to use the same ingredients every time, it really will depend on what is lurking in your fridge, but the crisper and more robust the better. Celeriac, beetroot, cabbage, kohlrabi… 

Winter Slaw


¼ tsp salt
juice ½ lemon
2 tbsp light extra virgin olive oil
1 carrot, peeled
¼ medium red cabbage
½ apple, core removed
½ pomegranate
2 or 3 mejool dates
small handful of flat leaf parsley leaves


Begin by making the dressing. Put the salt and lemon juice into a medium sized bowl and whisk with a fork. Add the olive oil and whisk until combined.

You can use a mandolin to prepare the carrot, red cabbage and apple, or (like me) a chopping board and a big sharp knife. Julienne the carrot and finely slice the red cabbage. Add them to the dressing and stir well to combine.

Finely slice the apple (I like to leave the skin on) and add to the carrot and red cabbage before it has chance to start turning brown.

Remove and discard the stones from the dates and finely chop the dates. Remove the seeds from the pomegranate (I do this by holding the half a pomegranate over a bowl and bashing the skin side with a wooden spoon or rolling pin).

Add the dates, pomegranate seeds and flat leaf parsley to the slaw, stir and serve immediately. 

Winter Slaw

Wednesday, 21 December 2016

Carrot, Cashew & Apricot Stuffing Balls

Carrot, Cashew & Apricot Stuffing Balls
Never wishing to feel like I'm missing out, I have to admit to being a little miffed if Christmas Day comes around and I find that I have to forgo all of the trimmings. But stuffing is so versatile. It can easily be adapted to suit everyone.

These Carrot, Cashew & Apricot Stuffing Balls are crispy on the outside and soft in the middle. Lightly spiced, with little nuggets of sweetness from the dried apricots, they work as well with turkey or goose as they do with a vegetarian main course. In fact, I'd quite happily forgo the main event for a pile of these little morsels, roasties, buttered kale, honey and lime roasted parsnips and a huge jug of vegetarian gravy.

Carrot, Cashew & Apricot Stuffing Balls

They taste just as good cold the day after, so make sure there are plenty to snack on when Boxing Day comes around. And if you do have happen to have some leftover (or if you make a double batch) they make great snacks for children (and adults).

Carrot, Cashew & Apricot Stuffing Balls
To make this recipe vegan, replace the butter with olive oil and use your usual egg replacer instead of the eggs.


50g cashew nuts
25g unsalted butter
1 small onion, finely chopped
1 medium carrot, peeled and coarsely grated
1 tsp ground cumin
zest of 1/2 unwaxed orange
100g fresh breadcrumbs
50g dried apricots (about 8), chopped
1-2 tbsp chopped flat leaf parsley
2 medium eggs, beaten
salt & black pepper (optional)


Preheat the oven to 190C (170C fan).

Put the cashew nuts on a small baking tray and roast in the oven for 8-9 minutes, until they are a light golden colour. This really enhances their flavour, so well worth doing. Remove from the oven, leave to cool and then roughly chop. If you are feeding babies or very young children, you can pulse the cashew nuts in a food processor until they resemble breadcrumbs instead of chopping them so there's no risk of choking.

Whilst the cashew nuts are in the oven, put a small frying pan over a medium heat. Add the butter. Once the butter has melted add the onion and turn the heat down a little. Cook for 7-8 minutes, stirring often, until the onion has softened and is beginning to turn golden at the edges. Add the grated carrot and continue to cook, stirring often, for a further 5 minutes, until the carrot has softened. Add the ground cumin and cook for a minute or two.

Transfer the onion and carrot mixture to a large mixing bowl and leave to cool.

Once cool, add the orange zest, breadcrumbs, chopped dried apricots, chopped flat leaf parsley, roasted cashew nuts and season (I don't add salt as I cook for young children and there is already salt in the breadcrumbs, but if you are cooking for adults you will probably want to add salt and pepper to suit your tastes). Stir well to combine.

Line a baking tray with non stick baking paper.

Add the beaten egg to the mixing bowl, a little at a time, and mix well (I use sourdough breadcrumbs which seem to need a little more egg to combine, but you may not need the full amount, so add gradually). Form the mixture into 9 balls, each about the size of a golf ball, and place them on the lined baking tray.

Put the baking tray in the oven and bake for 20 minutes, until the stuffing balls are golden and a little crispy at the edges.

Serve hot or cold. The stuffing balls can be made ahead, cooled and frozen. Defrost thoroughly and then reheat in a medium oven for 7-8 minutes, until hot.

Carrot, Cashew & Apricot Stuffing Balls

Friday, 16 December 2016

Caramelised Shallot & Chestnut Tarte Tatin with Spelt Olive Oil Pastry

Caramelised Shallot & Chestnut Tarte Tatin

Old recipes need to be revisited. Viewed afresh. Updated. There are new ideas and techniques. Ways to improve. Ingredients which have become more readily available. Others which are outdated or have fallen out of favour.

So this is my updated Caramelised Shallot & Chestnut Tarte Tatin. The perfect vegetarian and vegan centrepiece for Christmas dinner. I first wrote a version of this recipe back in 2009, having made it for Christmas dinner a few years earlier.  My Uncle John was visiting from Ireland for Christmas, an event in itself, which always involves much silliness, standing on chairs singing nursery rhymes and a vegan alternative to turkey for us all to share.

The original recipe (such as it was, made, eaten and enjoyed, but never written down) was vegan, but the pastry will no doubt have been made using White Flora, a white vegetable fat, which has long since vanished from shop shelves. Its closest dairy-free equivalent, Trex, is made from palm oil. Whilst it may make good pastry, I won't buy it. The same goes for the principal dairy-free ready made puff pastry on the market, Jus-Rol, or indeed anything containing palm oil. Its connection with rainforest deforestation, human rights violations, child labour and animal cruelty (to name but a few) is well documented. I'm with Joanna Blythman, journalist and author of Swallow This, when she says that going into 2017 it is time to abandon palm oil.

So this tarte tatin has a classy new pastry to be proud of. Rich and packed with fresh thyme, it is simple to make and work with. There's no need to be careful and light of finger when mixing the ingredients, and definitely no rubbing fat into flour until it resembles breadcrumbs. When dry ingredients meet wet ingredients, the pastry comes together in a matter of seconds. A vegan-friendly pastry recipe which uses olive oil instead of palm oil.

The combination of shallots, chestnuts and mushrooms is not a new one. Especially at this time of year, when they are all in season and at their best. Add a splash of madeira and plenty of fresh thyme and they taste so good.


For the pastry:

225g white spelt flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp nutritional yeast (optional)
1 tsp fresh thyme leaves
75ml extra virgin olive oil

For the rest:

2 tbsp olive oil
500g shallots (about 400g peeled weight)
150g cooked, peeled chestnuts
100g chestnut mushrooms
1 tsp fresh thyme leaves
1 tsp muscovado sugar
1 tbsp madeira*
salt and freshly ground black pepper


Begin by making the pastry (this can be done up to 24 hours ahead). Put the flour, baking powder, salt, fresh thyme leaves and nutritional yeast (if using) into a large mixing bowl and whisk together with a balloon whisk. Add the olive oil and 70ml cold water. Using your hands, bring the ingredients together to form a rough ball. Knead lightly for a few seconds until the pastry is smooth.

Flatten the pastry out into a patty, wrap in cling film and chill in the fridge for at least 30 minutes (longer if possible).

Whilst the pastry is chilling, prepare the rest of the ingredients.

Peel the shallots and slice any large ones in half lengthways. Clean the mushrooms by wiping them with a piece of kitchen roll, then trim off the stalks and cut into quarters.

Preheat the oven to 200C (180C fan).

Put a tarte tatin dish dish (20cm diameter) or an oven-safe frying pan of the same size over a medium heat. Add the olive oil, then place the shallots into the dish, cut side down (for those you have sliced in half). Cook for 10 minutes until the shallots are starting brown slightly. Add the chestnuts, mushrooms, thyme leaves and sugar, pushing the chestnuts and mushrooms down gently between the shallots. Cook for another 5 minutes, then add the madeira, season with salt and freshly ground black pepper and cook for 2 to 3 minutes.

Remove the pastry from the cling film and place it on a lightly floured surface. Roll out, turning with each roll, until it is a rough circle measuring about 22cm in diameter. Using a pastry brush, brush a little oil around the inner rim of the tarte tat in dish, then careful lift the pastry over the shallot mixture, tucking it in, and any surplus pastry back on itself, to form a seal.

Bake for 30 minutes, until the pastry is a light golden colour.

Slide a knife around the edge of the pastry to loosen. Put a plate over the dish and then carefully tip the dish with the plate held firmly on top over so that the tarte tatin is sat shallot side up on the plate. Remove the dish. If any shallots decide to stick to the dish instead of the pastry, carefully lift them off the dish with a fish slice or spatula and put them back into position on the pastry.

I like to serve this with roast potatoes, buttered kale or cabbage and vegan gravy.

*not all brands of madeira are vegan-friendly, so if you are making this for someone who is vegan it is worth checking.

Monday, 12 December 2016

Festive Rocky Road

Festive Rocky Road

Calories are essential.

You're on the home straight. The final push. You need to keep your energy (and spirits) up.

Whether you're partying hard, wrapping a mountain of presents, ferrying children from party to performance or staying up half the night, bleary-eyed, with gin in hand, trying to create a nativity costume (with the stars falling off as quickly as you can stick them on), you need sustenance. This is no time for self sacrifice.

These little morsels of rocky road are easy to eat. Too easy perhaps. Blink and you've demolished four. So make them, give half away as festive gifts (another job ticked off that mother of all lists) and let yourself loose on the rest.

And if you are worried about that calorie thing, then take the advice of Mum's work colleague: break a piece in half, shake out the calories and get eating.

Maraschino, Amaretto & Almond Rocky Road

Makes 64 bite-sized pieces


200g Green & Blacks 70% dark chocolate
100g Green & Blacks milk chocolate
100g good unsalted butter
3 tbsp condensed milk
pinch maldon salt
2 tbsp amaretto liqueur (optional)
zest 1 orange, finely grated
100g Luxardo maraschino cherries (drained weight)
50g blanched almonds, toasted and roughly chopped
150g amaretti biscuits


Grease and line a 20cm square, loose-bottomed baking tin.

Break up the chocolate and put it into a large heat proof bowl with the butter. Place the bowl over a pan of simmering water (taking care to make sure that the bowl doesn't touch the water) and, stirring occasionally, leave the chocolate and butter to melt.

Whilst the chocolate is melting, blot the maraschino cherries on kitchen paper to remove most of the syrup and cut each one in half. Put the amaretti biscuits into a plastic sandwich bag and bash them a little with a rolling pin until they are roughly broken up.

Once the chocolate has melted, add the condensed milk, salt, amaretto liqueur (if using) and orange zest. Stir to combine.

Add the maraschino cherries, toasted almonds and amaretti biscuits. Stir until evenly coated in the chocolate. Transfer the mixture to the prepared tin, spread out to fill the tin and smooth the top with the back of a spoon as best you can.

Put the tin into the fridge for an hour, or until solid. Alternatively leave overnight. Then remove from the tin, discard the baking paper and carefully cut into small pieces. Dust with icing sugar.

Store in the fridge or a cool place.

Tuesday, 6 December 2016

Apricot, Almond & Amaretto Mincemeat

One of my earliest memories of food at Christmas time is of my mum appearing by my bedside late one evening, a large mixing bowl rested in the crook of her arm. It was dark, with just a flicker of orange light creeping in through our old brown curtains from the street light outside. I felt snug under my crisp sheets and eiderdown, and comforted by the familiar sounds around me. Yet I was drowsy and bewildered.

Looking back now, the wooden spoon being proffered can only have been for me to stir our Christmas pudding. In that hazy light, as if watching myself on sepia-tinted film, my faded memory sees me push myself up, resting on one elbow as I dutifully stir the heady mixture of dried fruit, cinnamon, nutmeg, orange and brandy. With my sleep-heavy limbs, I managed one, maybe two, turns of the bowl before I settled back down, contented.

Apricot, Almond & Amaretto Mincemeat

It has been a long time since I have been around to give my mum's Christmas pudding its traditional stir for good luck. Instead it is my turn to pass these traditions on to my sons. The huge, old Mason Cash mixing bowl, with its crazed glaze. A tarnished old tablespoon which was tucked into my kitchen box when I left home for university. And one of many well-used wooden spoons, which have stirred food, banged pots as if they were drums and will one day themselves be packed into a bag leaving home for the future that lies ahead.

As I grew older, my memories of festive baking with my mum, in the kitchen of our little two up two down, turned to mince pies. Not just the odd dozen here or there. Tray after tray of brandy-laced mincemeat wrapped up in flaky shortcrust, always lovingly made by hand. The mince pie tin has to be seen to be believed. One minute filled to the brim with two, maybe three dozen rich, buttery pies, only for hands grappling to be the first to reach the last one moments later.

Homemade Apricot, Almond & Amaretto Mincemeat

The very best mince pies are those crammed so full with boozy, homemade mincemeat, that it seeps out like molten lava as they bake. My mincemeat recipe evolves year on year. This is the third iteration of 2015. The jars to be polished off this week before we embark on a new batch for 2016.


100g golden raisins
200g currants
100g large black flame raisins
200g sultanas
75g good unsalted butter
200g soft brown sugar
zest & juice 2 oranges
zest & juice 1 1/2 lemons
200g bramley apples (cored & peeled weight), grated
75g blanched almonds, toasted and roughly chopped
150g dried apricots, finely chopped
1 1/2 tsp ground mixed spice
1/2 tsp ground ginger
freshly grated nutmeg (as much or as little as you like)
100ml amaretto
25ml cognac


Mix the raisins, currants and sultanas in a large mixing bowl and pick over to remove any stems.

Put a large pan over a low heat. Add the butter, sugar, orange and lemon zest and juice and stir until the sugar has dissolved.

Add the grated apple, raisins, currants, sultanas, dried apricots, almonds and spices. Stir to combine.

Put the mixture back into the large mixing bowl and stir in the amaretto and cognac. Cover with a tea towel and leave in a cool, dark place for at least 24 hours.

If you are just making the mincemeat to use over a couple of weeks then it will keep perfectly well sealed in a plastic container.  If you want to store it in jars to keep it for longer, then fill sterilised jars, seal and store in a cool dark place.

Homemade Christmas Gifts

*Please don't be put off by the list of random dried fruit. I like to use lots of different sultanas, raisins, etc for their size, flavour and colour, but you could just use the equivalent weight of whatever you have knocking around in the cupboard. Just make sure you use the dried apricots for this recipe because it really does make a difference.

Thursday, 15 September 2016

Bakewell Pudding Ice Cream

Bakewell Pudding Ice Cream
I am well aware that September is not usually the time of year to be publishing an ice cream recipe. Until the beginning of this week, my mind had begun to turn to corn on the cob, squash and hearty bowls of soup. I was all set to add fish pie to next week's meal plan. Then here in London, summer decided it would have one last hurrah before ceding passage to the crisp, fresh days of autumn.

As the table laden with gutsy, monochromatic bakes at Band of Bakers last night will testify, the regional bakes of our British Isles are not made for these Indian Summer days. A heavy and (dare I say it)  rather stodgy collection of tarts, buns and cakes with more than their fair share of dried fruit, pastry and lard.

Hailing from Derbyshire, I had my eye on a Buxton Pudding, a baked dessert made with egg yolks, sugar, flour, milk and lemon zest (which I've never eaten, let alone baked before) or some Ashbourne Gingerbread. Then on Sunday evening the ever-reliable Countryfile weather forecast painted a rather different picture of my week, with temperatures set to rocket back up in to 28C. I adore hot weather. Love it. But I'll be damned if I am going to entertain the thought of spending hours in a hot, sticky kitchen baking on a scorcher of a day.

Everyone knows that ice cream is what we need on a hot day and this recipe is embarrassingly easy. Really. Damn it, you could even use shop bought madeira cake and a jar of good raspberry jam if you didn't have the time (or the heat tolerance) for baking and jamming.

Just remember to take it out of the freezer 5 minutes before serving to come to (rather than taking it out 45 minutes before and then spending that time rushing to Band of Bakers with the ice cream in a cool bag, including a diversion due to jumping on the wrong bus, panicking that all the while your ice cream will turn up looking more like Bakewell Pudding Soup).

Bakewell Pudding Ice Cream


For the frangipane:

75g unsalted butter
75g golden caster sugar
1 medium egg
1 tbsp amaretto
finely grated zest of 1/2 lemon
50g plain flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
75g ground almonds

For the raspberry jam:

250g raspberries
250g caster sugar
juice 1/2 small lemon

For the ice cream:

1200ml double cream
397g tin sweetened condensed milk
1/2 tsp good almond extract (I used Steenbergs Natural Almond Extract)


Begin the day before you want to eat the ice cream by making the frangipane and the raspberry jam (alternatively you can use a jar of good quality raspberry jam).

For the frangipane:

Preheat the oven to 190C (170C fan). 

Grease a small loose bottomed square or rectangular cake tin (a 15cm tin would work well here) with a little unsalted butter.

Using a stand mixer or electric beaters, beat the butter and caster sugar until pale and fluffy (this can easily take 5 minutes or longer, depending on your mixer).

Beat the eggs together with the lemon zest and amaretto, then add this to the butter and sugar mixture a little at a time and continue mixing until incorporated. Don't worry if the batter looks a little like it has curdled, it will come together when you add the flour.

Sift the flour and baking powder and add to the batter along with the ground almonds. Mix until just combined.

Put the batter into the prepared tin and smooth the top.

Bake for 18-22 minutes or until light brown on top and a skewer comes out with only a few moist crumbs. Leave to cool in the tin for 30 minutes and then remove from the tin and leave on a cooling rack until completely cool. Store in an airtight cake tin.

For the raspberry jam:

Preheat the oven to 150C.

Spread the sugar out on a large baking tray or roasting tin. Put the tray into the oven for 10 minutes to allow the sugar to heat up.

In the meantime, put the raspberries into a jam pan or heavy based pan (I use an old Le Creuset casserole) over a low heat. Once the sugar is heated up (this helps it to dissolve quicker) add it to the raspberries along with the lemon juice and stir.

Bring to the boil and boil rapidly for around 10 minutes. When the jam reaches about 106C remove from the heat and carefully pour through a metal sieve into a clean bowl, to remove the seeds. Set aside to cool.

For the ice cream:

Put the cream into a large bowl. Whip the cream with electric beaters until it forms soft peaks. Add the almond extract and the condensed milk and continue to whip for about a minute until the mixture is quite stiff.

Scrape the ice cream mixture into a large shallow pyrex dish or tin (I used two rectangular pyrex dishes which have plastic lids). Dot the cooled, sieved jam across the top of the ice cream and swirl gently using the end of a spoon or a knife.

Slice the frangipane into small pieces (approximately 1cm cubes) and gently press them into the top of the ice cream mixture, taking care to space them evenly. You may not need all of the cake.

Cover well and put into the freezer for at least 6 hours or, preferably, overnight. Remove from the freezer 5 minutes before serving.