Yorkshire is a place, Yorkshire is a state of mind

I love making Yorkshire puddings and if it weren’t for the fact that there are other lovely things to eat in the world, I could probably quite happily live on them. They were one of the first things that I was ever taught to cook and I take great pride in watching the little puddles of batter rise into billowing clouds of puddingy loveliness. There’s nothing worse than seeing those brittle, tasteless, mass-produced, cardboard-like fakes that you can buy in the supermarket

I’m not going to give a recipe, because I can’t. I have no idea what kinds of quantities I use, because it’s all done by how the batter feels as I put it together. In fact, I’m pretty sure that the amounts of egg, flour and milk change every time. The only thing that doesn’t change is the amount of beating the batter gets. My Nan taught me how to make them, and always insists that they rise in proportion to the amount of love you beat into them. To that end, I never, ever use a food processor or mixer, always an oversized serving fork. I try to make the batter as early in the day as I can so that I can keep going back to it.

I always serve them with a thick, gooey onion gravy and the few times I’ve made them since being in France we’ve had a huge tin of roasted mixed vegetables and mashed potatoes. It’s proper comforting winter food that I make all year round.

Fi's Yorkshire puddings

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~ by twotrackmind on November 14, 2009.