Saturday morning. You’re not singing Maroon 5’s Sunday morning yet, but it’s the weekend, so you lounge in your most comfortable pj’s most of the early afternoon and try to catch up on the not-so-important things you have to do or else they might bite you in the back sometime in the future. Like answering requests for your time from friends who suddenly find you useful after years. I will need a good mug of milk for this one.
Right. So somehow my body has figured that since I wake up early on weekdays, I outta continue this into the weekend by waking up at 7am first, so I refuse to let those meager rays of sun disperse the clouds of sleep the first round. By 9am, my brain is just going, err, pardon me, but you really have better things to do. Leave me alone brain! I really don’t!
So that’s me at a little past 9am in the kitchen looking in the fridge what is pretty and yummy to eat on the first Saturday since my Gran has been in London for the past four or five years. Then I have a craving, which I try in vain to push away: popovers.
I apologise for the single picture. They went straight to the table were they didn’t last long.
To keep them warm and fussy free, I placed the cupcake tin on a fire resistant mat
so that everyone could pry their popovers from their hold.
We went to Borough Market on Monday and bought some freshly churned butter and humina-humina, it is unctuous deliciousness. Problem is, my sister and I are territorial about who bakes what, and this was definitely and most certainly not on my list of ‘allowed’-ish.
But I am mean, so I decided after so many years of respecting her cooking popovers, I would have a whack at it. And I did. And pretty darn well too, if I may say so myself. They weren’t eggy in the middle, but moist and pull apart-able, with little air domes perfect for the fresh butter (and yes, saying fresh butter makes me sound like an organic-only fussy eater; KFC last week proves the opposite).
Anyways, the addition of the poppy seeds gave it a little textural difference without being obvious. Plus, knowing I’m having so much poppy seed makes me smile. Did you know that two poppy seed bagels make you test positive for drug test? They tried it on a vicar on one of those science shows, which made me laugh even harder. So yeah. Family full of positive drug testing individuals.
Ah la la.
‘Herb Popovers’ recipe from “The Great Big Cookie Book” by Hilaire Walden
Lorenz Books, New York 1998
2 tb butter
1 cup milk
¾ all purpose flour
pinch of salt
½ cup poppy seeds instead of a sprig each of mixed fresh herbs (chives, tarragon, dill, parsley)
I added a dash of ground nutmeg and cloves
Preheat oven 180˚C.
Grease 12 small ramekins or popover molds.
Melt butter over low heat.
Beat the eggs until blended. Beat in the milk and melted butter.
Sift together the flour and salt, then beat into the egg mixture to combine thoroughly.
Add poppy seeds and spices or herbs.
Pour the batter into the molds so they are half full.
Bake for 20-30min, until they are golden. Do not open oven during baking time or popovers may fall.
For drier popovers, pierce each one with a knife after 30 minutes baking time and bake for 5 more minutes.
The Popover Café in West Side Manhattan was were I first tried these. Here they are served before 11am (if there are any left till then) and used to be accompanied with home-mixed strawberry butter. Strawberries in butter are an awesome combination, spread over some warm popovers, even better. Unfortunately, we returned two years ago and the popovers or service were as they once were. The butter was still cold and the popovers room temperature (note the final recipe warning). They took forever to get to us and they had removed the brown bears who looked content from their perches over their contented guests munching happily on popovers, many swinging their not-yet-long-enough legs under the table.