
Chef Thomas
Apple Charlotte
Buttered bread baked to a deep mahogany around a filling of spiced Bramley apples, turned out at the table in a small moment of drama, cold cream poured from a jug alongside.
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Created by Chef Thomas
A dark, sticky steamed sponge shot through with stem ginger and treacle, the kind of pudding that makes an October evening feel like it was always going to end this way.
There's a particular kind of damp, dark evening, somewhere in late October or early November, when the light goes by half past four and the rain hasn't quite made up its mind. That's when a steamed pudding stops being an idea and becomes dinner.
I know steamed puddings have a reputation for being fussy and old-fashioned. They aren't. You cream some butter and sugar, fold in flour and spice, tip it into a basin, and leave it over simmering water for two hours while you do something else. The oven stays off. The kitchen slowly fills with the smell of ginger and dark treacle and warm sugar, and by the time you're hungry, it's ready. That's the whole thing.
The stem ginger is what makes this one worth writing down. Little pockets of soft, hot ginger through the sponge, with the ground ginger giving the background warmth and the treacle doing the dark, bitter edge. A pudding that tastes like it means something. We're only making dinner, but we may as well end it properly.
Cold double cream, poured from a jug so it pools around the base and starts to melt into the sponge. Or hot custard, if the weather has really turned. I wrote it down in the notebook: ginger, treacle, cream, Tuesday. That was enough to remember it by.
Quantity
175g
softened, plus extra for greasing
Quantity
175g
Quantity
3 tablespoons
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
3
lightly beaten
Quantity
175g
Quantity
2 teaspoons
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon
Quantity
pinch
Quantity
4 balls
finely chopped
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
3 tablespoons
Quantity
to serve
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| unsalted buttersoftened, plus extra for greasing | 175g |
| dark muscovado sugar | 175g |
| golden syrup | 3 tablespoons |
| black treacle | 2 tablespoons |
| large eggslightly beaten | 3 |
| self-raising flour | 175g |
| ground ginger | 2 teaspoons |
| ground cinnamon | 1 teaspoon |
| bicarbonate of soda | 1/2 teaspoon |
| fine sea salt | pinch |
| stem ginger in syrupfinely chopped | 4 balls |
| syrup from the stem ginger jar | 2 tablespoons |
| whole milk | 3 tablespoons |
| double cream or custard (optional) | to serve |
Butter a 1-litre pudding basin generously. Don't be shy about it. Cut a disc of baking parchment and press it into the bottom. Put a large, deep pan on the hob with an upturned saucer or a trivet in the base, and pour in enough water to come about a third of the way up the sides of the basin once it goes in. Bring it to a gentle simmer while you make the sponge.
In a big bowl, beat the softened butter and muscovado sugar together until the mixture has loosened and gone a shade paler. Muscovado never quite creams the way caster does, it stays a little coarser, a little darker. That's fine. You're after soft and aerated, not perfectly smooth.
Spoon in the golden syrup and the black treacle. Warm the spoon under the hot tap first and they'll slide off without a fight. Beat them through the butter and sugar until the mixture is dark and glossy. Add the eggs a little at a time, beating between each addition. If it looks like it's about to curdle, add a spoonful of the flour and keep going.
Sift the flour, ground ginger, cinnamon, bicarbonate of soda and salt over the bowl. Fold them in gently with a big metal spoon, turning the batter over itself until there are no streaks of flour left. Add the chopped stem ginger, the ginger syrup and the milk, and fold again. The batter should drop heavily from the spoon when you lift it. If it feels stiff, a splash more milk.
Spoon the batter into the buttered basin. It should come about two-thirds of the way up. Smooth the top. Now make the lid: take a square of baking parchment and a square of foil, lay one on top of the other, and fold a pleat down the middle. The pleat gives the sponge room to rise. Press the double layer over the top of the basin and tie it firmly in place with string just under the rim. Trim off the excess.
Lower the basin into the simmering pan. The water should come about halfway up the sides. Put the lid on and leave it to steam over a low heat for two hours. Check on it every half hour or so and top up with boiling water from the kettle if the level drops. Never let it run dry. This is the only real rule. After an hour or so the kitchen will start to smell of ginger and dark sugar and something like bonfire night, and you'll know you're on the right track.
When the time is up, lift the basin out carefully using the string handle, or oven gloves and a lot of care. Snip the string, peel off the foil and parchment. Run a knife around the edge of the sponge, put a deep plate over the top, and turn the whole thing out in one confident movement. It should come away cleanly, dark and glossy, the top of the sponge now the bottom and slick with the sugars that have pooled there. Serve in thick wedges with cold double cream poured over, or hot custard if the evening calls for it. Both, if you're feeling generous.
1 serving (about 160g)
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