Like Hot Cross Buns at Easter, one of the things that make Christmas for me are mince pies. I love them. So when my mate Luke who co-runs clothing label Percival asked if I fancied making some for late night shopping evenings at their new pop up in Covent Garden, I was all over it like a cheap suit.

This recipe is a bit of a remix. Inspired by and finished like the mighty Eccles Cakes of St John, the filling is simpler than traditional mincemeat, but the spices, currants, muscavado sugar and rum pack a treacle-like punch, and instead of beef suet, or that horrible veg substitute, I use frozen, grated butter, so the veggies can chow too. I’d recommend making the filling a good couple of weeks before you make your pies. Over time the flavour gets better and better, and if you keep it cool it will last for ages.

This recipe will make 24 or more mincers. I make them in muffin trays with 6 x 3 dimples which gives them a meat pie like appearance after they’re baked.

Ingredients

For the pastry

480g Plain white (pastry) flour

25g Caster sugar

10g Salt

340g Unsalted butter, cold

110-140ml Cold water

For the filling

500g Currants

220g Muscavado sugar

10g Ground nutmeg

10 Ground allspice

100g Unsalted butter, grated from frozen

60ml Dark rum

Zest and juice of 1 medium orange

To finish

1 egg beaten with a pinch of salt

Coarse granulated brown sugar

Method

Making the filling is a cinch. Put the currants, sugar, spices and rum into a bowl. Zest and then squeeze the juice of an orange into the mix (use a sieve to keep the pips out) and then give it a good stir. Take your butter out of the freezer, and using a course grater, shred around 100g of it into the bowl. It will clump together, so now get your hands in there and squeeze and mix everything together. Cover with clingfilm and set aside somewhere cool.

A few hours, or ideally the day before you’re going to make your pies, make the pastry as it needs to rest before you roll out and assemble. Weigh out and sift all your dry ingredients into the bowl or your mixer or food processor, and then cut up the cold butter into centimeter cubes and add to the dry. Mix on medium speed or pulse until you have a ‘mealy’ breadcrumby type consistency.

Turn your mixer back on and add around 100ml of your water. You want to add enough to bring the pastry together, but no too much so it’s wet. If it doesn’t look like it’s going to come together after a 15 seconds or so, add a bit more water until it does. Remove the pastry from the bowl and ‘pat’ together, and then wrap in clingfilm, and rest in the fridge until needed.

When you’re ready to make your pies, take your pastry out of the fridge and let it warm up a little, and then roll it out to a 3mm thickness on a lightly floured surface. Again, it’s good to let the pastry relax a bit before you cut it, so cover with some greaseproof paper and leave it somewhere cool for half an hour.

Next, taking a 90mm and a 70mm pastry cutter, cut out 24 bases and lids from your pastry. Press the bases into the dimples of whatever baking tray you’re using. There will be excess pastry crinkles, but just press these into the wall of the tin. When you’ve lined all the dimples, fill around 3/4 full with the currant mixture.

Moisten the rim of each of your smaller lids with a little water, and then press them down onto the top of each of the pies. The final step is to lightly egg wash the tops with a brush, give them the Eccles Cake trademark of three scores, and then sprinkle some coarsely granulated brown sugar over the top of each one.

Bake at 170c for around 30 minutes until the tops are a lovely deep golden brown, and remove the pies from the tray as soon as you can and place on a wire wrack to cool.

They are best eaten warm, either on their own, with a glass of whiskey, or indeed a good lump of mature cheddar.

Ho Ho Ho.

The classic French fruit tart has to be one of my favourite deserts. The combination of the sweet, crumbly pastry, the vanilla spiked crème pâtissière and the sharp fruit tick all the boxes for me. I know it’s more of a Summer dish, but I got hold of some late season British raspberries the other day, and decided to make it as part of a ‘welcome home’ lunch at my folk’s house.

The other great thing about this recipe is that once all the elements are made, it’s an assembly job. So you can make everything in advance, then throw it all together a the last minute and lap up the applause like it ain’t no thang.  NB. As with most pastry, it’s good to let the pâte sucrée rest in a fridge for at least a few hours, both after making it and after lining the tart mold as this should stop the case shrinking when it’s being baked off.

Ingredients (makes 27cm tart / 8 slices)

For the pâte sucrée

145g All purpose flour

60g Icing sugar

65g Unsalted butter

50g Egg yolks

30g Almond meal

1g Baking powder

1g Salt

1/2 vanilla pod, seeds scraped out

For the crème pâtissière

430g Whole milk

110g Caster sugar

30g Corn starch

85g Egg yolks

50g Unsalted butter

1/2 Vanilla pod, seeds scraped

Zest of 1/2 a lemon

To finish

400g raspberries, or whatever fruit is in season

Icing sugar (optional)

Method

Either the day before or the morning you’re going to bake, make the pastry. Sift all the dry ingredients together into either a mixing bowl or the bowl of your blender / mixer. Cut your vanilla bean in half, and then scrape out the seeds with a blade, and add them too. Then take your cold butter from the fridge, and cut it into centimeter cubes and then add to the dry. If you’re using a mixer use the paddle attachment and mix on medium speed until you have an even breadcrumby, mealy texture. You can do the same with a blender by pulsing the blade, or by hand by rubbing the butter into the flour gradually.

When you’ve got the desired consistency, add the eggs by mixing or pulsing the ingredients until they just come together to form a dough. You really don’t want to over work the dough as you’ll develop gluten, and the pastry could turn out tough. Take the dough out of the bowl, pat it together into one lump, wrap it in clingfilm and get it into the fridge for a few hours.

You’ll have plenty of time on your hands now, so make the crème pâtissière. To the milk add half the sugar (55g), along with the other half of the vanilla pod used above (seeds scraped out and added to the milk along with the husk), and the zest of half a lemon removed with a peeler, not grated. Put this on your hob and bring to a boil.

Whilst the milk comes up to temperature, whisk the egg yolks, remaining sugar and cornstarch together in a bowl so they are combined together, but without incorporating any air. When the milk has just come to a  boil, turn it down to a medium heat and then pour a third of it into the bowl containing the yolk mixture whilst whisking constantly. This process is known as tempering, and should prevent the eggs from scrambling.

Next, add the eggy mixture back in with the rest of the milk, again continuing to whisk. The corn starch will kick in pretty quickly, and the mixture will thicken dramatically and start to gently bubble like lava. Hold your nerve, and continue to whisk whilst maintaining the boil (but not scorching the custard), for 1 to 2 minutes.

Remove from the heat and stir in the butter until it has completely dissolved. Pour the crème pâtissière into a clean bowl, and place a layer of clingfilm onto the surface of the custard to help prevent a skin from forming, and set aside. Don’t worry about fishing out the vanilla pod or the lemon zest now, you’ll burn your fingers.

OK. Back to the pastry. Lightly flour your work surface and rolling pin, and gently roll out the pastry into a rough circle, around a couple of inches bigger than your tart tin. Work as quickly as you can, as the warmer the dough gets, the harder it will be to work with. Roll the dough over your pin, and then gently drape it over the tart tin. Lift the edges of the dough and gently push down into the edge of the tin’s base and lightly press against the side, repeating this process all the way round. Don’t worry if you have a few cracks or splits, you can patch these up with any spare pastry. Now trim away any excess pastry from the edge with a sharp knife, leaving a smooth, clean edge all around, and then put the lined case in the fridge for a good hour or so.

Whilst the tart case is chilling, pre-heat your oven to 180c. You’re going to blind bake it, so once the pastry has rested for sufficient time, remove the tart from the fridge and dock the base all over with a fork. Then line it with greasproof paper and weigh down with rice or baking beans, and bake for 10 minutes. After this time, remove the paper and weights and continue to bake for a further 10 until the pastry is a light golden brown.

Take out of the oven, and as soon as you can, carefully remove the pastry case and leave to cool on a rack. You’ve now got all your elements, and you’re ready to assemble. If you want to be really fancy (if not anal), you could use a microplane or another fine grater to ’sand down’ the edges of your tart case so they are perfect, but this isn’t really necessary.

Take your crème pâtissière and remove the lemon zest and vanilla pod. The custard will have set, so give it a good beating with a spatula until it’s smooth, which will be a lot easier if it’s at room temperature. Transfer your pastry case to the plate you’re going to serve it on, and then dollop the crème pâtissière into the center of it. Gently spread it out right to the edges, until you have a smooth even surface. Then take your raspberries, or other fruit, and arrange on the top. Finish with icing sugar, or any other garnish that tickles your fancy, and then you’re done.

You can keep the tart in the fridge for a day or so, but I recommend leaving it out for a good half an hour so it’s a bit warmer when you eat it.

Divide into 8 slices, and serve each with a generous pouring of double cream.

That’s right, Hand To Mouth is back. Despite missing San Francisco like crazy, and Home Sweet Home not really feeling that sweet right now, it is good to be home. Kind of.

We got back to London a week ago, and its been a hectic. Along with flat hunting and catching up with friends & family, I’ve been lining up a bunch of interviews, meetings and trial shifts at bakeries across London. I had my first trial on Monday and have two more lined up this week, along with a couple of meetings. And I’m also meeting up with an old work colleague who wants to get me involved with a food based iPhone / iPad app he’s developing. Exciting times.

I’ve also got a bunch of posts to write when I get the chance, including a round-up of our New York eatathon, a couple of great finds from the city that never sleeps, and a killer rasberry tart recipe, amongst others.

So I promise I’ll pull my finger out and will be back here very soon.

Until then.

A couple of weeks ago it was East 17, and now blam! I’m hitting you with an Ultravox reference. High brow shizzle I think you’ll agree. And why did up this 80s relic? Because last week we started the Viennoiserie section of our course.

Viennoiserie is the name given to all kinds of yeasted, enriched doughs. From croissants, to Danish pastries, sticky buns to brioche, we’re talking about doughs enriched with sugar, eggs, milk and butter. Lots of butter. I’ve never seen so much of the stuff than in the past week.

We’re going to be getting in to lamination next week, the technique for making croissants amongst other things, but the breads we made last week were mixed in a similar way to what we’ve become familiar with, even if the formulas were in some cases a lot more complicated.

We started off the week slowly, making a range of products based around brioche and sweet roll doughs. With most of these we had to adjust our mixing to incorporate the sugar and butter after the dough had developed in strength in the mixer. The reason for this is that both inhibit the development of gluten, and if added at the beginning you end up mixing for bloody ages and your dough comes off the mixer too warm, which in turn effects fermentation. Best avoided in other words.

Day one we made a bunch of straight brioche rolls, and learned how to make the classic ‘Brioche à tête’ shape, some glazed with pearl sugar and others just washed with egg. The following day, we really stepped it up, particularly in terms of sweetness. Diabetes alert. We made cinnamon rolls, pain au lait braids and the stars of the show, so called sticky buns, and these great little sweet rolls called Gibassier.

The sticky buns are basically cinnamon buns, but cooked like upside down cakes with a glaze made with brown sugar, butter, honey, cinnamon, vanilla and pecan nuts. Sticky, insanely sweet, but very good. The kid of bun that only the Americans could make. The Gibassier were a bit more restrained. A French sweet roll made with olive oil, anise seed and candied orange peel and then dusted with sugar after baking. Not particularly obvious flavours, but awesome.

Day three we got festive with a range of ‘holiday breads’. We made the German favourite, stollen. A sweet dough further enriched with booze soaked dried fruits, shaped like Mick Jagger’s lips, and then coated in powdered sugar to resemble snow-fall. A savoury Austrian bread called Kugelhopf, which we made with lardons, Swiss cheese, sauteed onions and rosemary. It was pretty delicious. Lovely, soft, rich dough with a great combination of flavours. We also made an American interpretation of the hot cross bun, which I’ve got to say was pretty average. I prefer the version I make.

Then we made something called Bostock, which was a bit of a revelation. I guess it’s nearest explanation of it would be if French toast mated with a bakewell tart and had a tasty baby. You take inch thick slices of brioche (a great way to use stale loaves) and toast them on either side. Then dip both sides in flavoured simple syrup (in this case rum) before spreading one side with frangipan, and sprinkling with slivered almonds. Bake for a short time, dust with powdered sugar and then eat with a dirty great grin on your fizzog.

Things started to get a bit more technical, and oddly Christmasy, towards the end of the week when we made Italian festive favourites pannetone, pan d’oro, and columba di pasqua. These doughs are so enriched with butter, eggs and sugar that they have to be ‘built up’ in stages so that they are strong enough to take all the inclusions. Surprisingly, the resulting doughs are actually really light and delicate, so much so that the pannetone has to be hung upside down after it leaves the oven so it doesn’t collapse on itself. Not surprisingly, with all the sugar, butter and candied fruits, they also taste amazing. But you can also understand why most Italians only eat them once a year.

So, another killer week, but I’ve got to say I’m seriously worried about my already troubled waistline. I might make a pre-emptive application to Biggest Loser now.

It may make me less of a man, but when it gets a bit cold and festive like it is now, I’ve got to admit I’m pretty partial to a drop of Baileys.

So when the lovely people over at Baileys HQ offered to send me over a bottle of their new hazelnut flavour earlier this week, I couldn’t really say no. Like regular Baileys it’s sweet, creamy and warming, but with an added hint of nuts and caramel. It’s good stuff.

Unlike Old Gregg, I don’t drink my Baileys out of a shoe, I drink it out of a glass like decent folk, but I’ve also discovered you can use it make a really tasty accompaniment to mince pies.

Mix equal quantities of Crème fraiche and Baileys together (either hazelnut or regular), and then dollop  a good teaspoon full of the mixture on top of warmed up pies.

Simple and delicious.

I’m going to be away for Easter in Australia visiting the future in-laws, so am going to miss out on the traditional treats that I’d be indulging in with the family down in Cornwall.

Food wise, the main thing I’m going to miss is the Hot Cross Buns. I love them. Toasted, slathered in melting butter and a good dollop of course bitter sweet orange marmalade. Anyway, I told myself that I wasn’t going to miss out, so decided to make my own for the first time. This recipe is lifted pretty much lock, stock and barrel from here on the BBC Food website, and the results went down a storm.

Ingredients

625g strong white flour, plus extra for dusting

1 tsp salt

2 tsp ground mixed spice

45g unsalted butter, cut into cubes, plus extra for greasing

85g sugar

1 lemon, zest only

1½ tsp fast-action yeast

1 free-range egg

275ml tepid milk

125g mixed dried fruit

For the topping

2 tbsp plain flour

vegetable oil, for greasing

1 tbsp golden syrup, gently heated, for glazing

Method

For the buns, sieve the flour, salt and ground mixed spice into a large mixing bowl, then rub in the butter using your fingertips creating a breadcrumb like mixture. Make a well in the centre of the mixture, then add the sugar and lemon zest and yeast.

Now beat the egg, add to the flour with the tepid milk and mix together to a form a soft, pliable dough and then turn out the dough onto a lightly floured work surface. Carefully work the mixed dried fruit into the dough until well combined. Knead lightly for at least 5 minutes.

Grease a large mixing bowl with butter. Shape the dough into a ball and place it into the prepared bowl, then cover with a cling film and set aside in a warm place for one hour to prove. Turn out the proved dough onto a lightly floured work surface and knock back the dough. Shape it into a ball again and return it to the bowl, cover again and set aside for a further 30 minutes to rise.

After half an hour, turn out the dough onto a lightly floured work surface and divide it into 12 equal pieces. Roll each piece into a ball, then flatten slightly into a bun shape using the palms of your hands. Cover the buns with the tea towel and set aside to rest for 5-10 minutes.

Grease a baking tray with butter and transfer the buns to the tray. Wrap the tray with the buns on it loosely in greaseproof paper, then place inside a large polythene bag. Tie the end of the bag so that no air can get in and set aside in a warm place for a further 40 minutes to rise.

While this is going on, Preheat the oven to 240 C, then prepare the cross topping by mixing the plain flour to a smooth paste with 2 tablespoons of cold water. When the buns have risen, remove the bag and the greaseproof paper. Spoon the flour mixture into a small plastic bag, nip off the tip of one of the corners to create a piping bag, and pipe a cross across each bun.

Now, transfer the buns to the oven and bake for 10-12 minutes, or until pale golden-brown. As soon as you remove the buns from the oven, brush them with the hot golden syrup, then set aside to cool on a wire rack.

The buns will be very sticky to start with, but the golden syrup will sink in over time. Eat as suggested, toasted with butter and orange marmalade, or however you like them.