‘What’s the prognosis Doctor?’
‘Well sir, it isn’t good.’
‘For heaven’s sake man, give it to me straight. I can take it.’
‘Well….you’re just shit at cooking with pastry.’
‘My God. I can’t believe this is happening.’
‘You’re not alone sir. Many, many good people have come to terms with this reality.’
‘But I just don’t think I can take this kind of rejection.’
‘It becomes easier…with time.’
And so on to my latest pastry-based culinary disaster. And I blame many, many things.
I blame the Hairy Bikers for a recipe that was never going to work.
I blame the tosspots who produce ready-rolled puff pastry. Have these morons ever actually cooked anything with this crap? Its so thin its useless.
And lastly I blame my hands – hot, sweaty bloody things that turn pastry to useless slippery mush in two seconds flat.
Even so it all started so promisingly – with a nice collection of ingredients all weighed out and ready to roll:
To create Chocolate and Pear Puff Pie you’ll need (although to be honest I’d go and buy one if you’re that eager):
- Can of pear halves, drained
- 100 g butter (about a stick I think)
- 2 eggs
- 100 g dark chocolate (85% cocoa is good!)
- 100 g ground almonds
- 100 g caster sugar
- 50 g self-raising flour
- 1/2 tsp vanilla essence
- 1 sheet of puff pastry
By now you might be thinking ‘what is he going on about – it all looks fine so far’. So far. So we whisk the eggs and then cream the butter and dry ingredients into them and then add the vanilla essence and chocolate:
Then get the puff pastry sheet and lay it out. Spread the filling along one side then pop the pears on top:
Brush some beaten egg around the edge and fold the pastry over and seal the edges:
Score the pastry and finish with egg wash. Cook in the oven for 20 minutes at 180 centigrade. Take out the oven and….
WTF? Has the bloody thing prolapsed? Has it erupted like some sugar-based volcanic inferno? No, the pastry split. The bloody pastry split. Still I can’t eat it anyway as I am on a low-fat, low-carb, low-everything diet. So I tried it out on the Mrs. The Mrs wasn’t too sure:
But I worked some culinary magic and served it up with clotted cream:
I’m told it was okay. Just okay. Fed the rest to the cat. Don’t know who’s cat it was. Hope it didn’t puke:
This is the pudding, not the cat.