There and Back Again, a Hobbit's Menu, Part 2: Bannocks

The Hobbit.  It's practically here.  And so it's time for a second hobbit recipe.

I chose bannocks, which show up in Chapter 3, A Short Rest.  As Bilbo, Gandalf, and the dwarves make their way to the Last Homely House, they hear the elves singing in the forest around them:

"O! What are you doing, / And where are you going? / Your ponies need shoeing! / The river is flowing!/ O! tra-la-la-lally / here down in the valley!/ O! What are you seeking, / And where are you making? / The faggots are reeking, / The bannocks are baking!/! tril-lil-lil-lolly / the valley is jolly, ha! ha!"

And since I figured the bannocks had to be some kind of food, I looked it up.

Bannocks are a traditional Scottish food, a quick flat bread cooked on a griddle (or girdle), also often known as oatcakes.  They are very easy to make, if a bit sticky, and would have been a perfect meal for the little group that arrived at Elrond's home after the first leg of their journey, weary, hungry, and tired.  They are hearty, filling little scones that can be accompanied by a variety of different toppings, from butter and honey to (my preferred) clotted cream and jam.  Bannocks, I have learned, make an excellent breakfast or afternoon snack, and went over well with the seminarians I work with.

Plain, they taste like, well, hard oatmeal bars.  I suppose they could be sweetened if you desire, but I like them as a fairly neutral base for toppings.  Plus, I can't eat sweets in the morning without getting nauseous, so these are perfect breakfast food for me.  Or even second breakfast.

Bannocks (Oatcakes)
(makes 2 oatcakes, or 8 scones)
adapted from Serious Eats

1 c. rolled or old-fashioned oats
1 c. rolled or old-fashioned oats, ground in a coffee grinder to a flour (or 1 c. store-bought oat flour), plus extra for kneading
1/4 tsp salt
4 tbs cold butter, cut into pieces
1/2 c. warm water

Preheat oven to 400F.

Lightly butter a cast-iron skillet, or line a baking tray with parchment paper.

In a large bowl, combine the oats, oat flour, and salt.  Add in the pieces of butter and rub into the flour mixture with your fingers.  Using a pastry cutter doesn't really work well with the oats, so just stick with your fingers.  And it will stick TO your fingers as well.  Rub in until the dough starts to clump together, trying not to leave large pieces of butter un-mixed-in.

Add the water and stir until the water has been absorbed by the flour and you have a cohesive dough.

Turn out dough onto a surface you have dusted with the extra oat flour.  Knead a few times, until the dough is not so sticky and is more manageable.

Divide dough in half and pat each half into a 1/4" thick round.  Cut each round into four scones, if desired.

Bake in pre-heated oven for 20 minutes, until the lightly colored.  (If baking in the skillet, you will need to bake in batches.)

Eat warm, with your topping of choice, and store any leftovers in an air-tight container.

Note: These are really, really fabulous with clotted cream.  I discovered the wonders of clotted cream after making these bannocks, and it is fabulous.  It has the texture and look of butter, but with an extra nuttiness and sweetness to the flavor.  It's like the lovechild of butter and whipped cream.  Plus, it's ridiculously easy to make.  I may be minorly obsessed.  You can find a good recipe at The Cupcake Project, along with a plethora of incredibly helpful comments.  I cut the recipe in half and got enough clotted cream to fill a small mason jar.

Bring on the movie, world.  I'm ready!

There and Back Again, a Hobbit's Menu, Part 1: Seed Cake

There and Back Again, A Hobbit’s Menu, Part 1: Seed Cake

It’s now under a month until the first installment of The Hobbit comes out in theatres.  I, for one, am ridiculously excited.  I’m currently re-reading The Hobbit in preparation for the big day.  I’m planning on at least a trip or two to Denny’s to try out their Hobbit-inspired menu.  But I’m also making a few recipes of my own.  Of course.

The Hobbit, though not among my most-re-read books, is up there among my favorite books.  I read it when I was in grade school, and at least once more when I re-read The Lord of the Rings.  I think that one of my favorite things about it is that it so easily enjoyed and understood by both children and adults.  Deluded by this fact, I attemptedThe Lord of the Rings when I read The Hobbit the first time.  Attempted being the key word.

Bilbo Baggins is the perfect hero for children (and adults, really), because he’s not a hero at all.  All he wants is to sit in his hobbit-hole, smoke his pipe, have second breakfasts, and listen to the kettle sing.  But instead, he is descended upon by dwarves (who eat all his food, drink his beer, and leave him with a kitchen-full of dishes) and quite unexpectedly swept into a dangerous and long journey.  Bilbo doesn’t want to go in search of treasure.  He doesn’t want to fight goblins and trolls and dragons.  But he does, and he overcomes all his trials.  Perhaps because he never sought them out in the first place.  He is pure of heart, and is a sensible and honest hobbit.  He is not particularly brave or clever.  He is like the reader, making do with the circumstances given him and muddling by with moments of greatness. 

I’m rather fond of hobbits.  They like nice clothing, a good smoke, and good food (and lots of it).  They’re rather similar to my husband, really.  In fact, while we were both still in college, Alec was outside in the campus Triangle smoking a pipe one day.  Our campus pastor came by with his small daughter and stopped to talk with Alec.  “Grace,” he said, “this is Alec.  Alec is a hobbit.”

So, I married a hobbit, albeit a tall one.

And now, in the big lead-up to the movie release, I’m going to cook a few things from The Hobbit.  Seeing as hobbits have a wonderful appreciation of food, it’s no surprise that Tolkien mentions a lot of food (and the lack of it) throughout the book.

First up, from the first chapter, and the first adventure of the book, “An Unexpected Party.”  Bilbo finds his pleasant day interrupted by a visit from thirteen dwarves, and Gandalf, who proceed to order food and drink, including “two beautiful round seed-cakes which he had baked that afternoon for his after-supper morsel.”

Seed cakes are a traditional British food.  Recipes exist back into the 1500s.  It is a sweet bread-like round cake, usually flavored with caraway seeds and sometimes bits of citrus peel.  Modern versions tend to resemble a light lemon bread loaf or bundt cake with a sweet glaze. 

For this recipe, of course, I’m sticking with a traditional recipe based on cake receipts from A.W.’s Book of Cookrye (1591).  (Can I admit that I picked this recipe because it uses warm ale to dissolve the yeast?  Because I did.)  And it is dense.  This cake will fill you up.  While it is still tasty on it's own, after my first few slices, I made a lemon-flavored glaze to drizzle over the top and lighten it up a bit.

Seed Cake

(serves 10-12)

adapted from A Boke of Gode Cookery

1 1/2 c. all-purpose flour

1 c. whole wheat four

1 pkg yeast, or  2 1/4 tsp yeast

1/8 c. warm ale (not more than 100 degrees)

1/8 tsp salt

1 stick unsalted butter

3/4 c. sugar

2 eggs, beaten

1 1/2 tbs caraway seed (or other flavorful seed, like anise, coriander, cardamom)

1/2-1 c. milk

Preheat oven to 350F.

Sift the flours and salt into a large bowl.  Set aside.

In a small bowl, dissolve the yeast in the warm ale, along with 1/8 tsp of the flour mixture.  Let sit for approximately 5 minutes, until the yeast has turned creamy.  (If this does not happen, your ale may have been too warm and will have killed the yeast.  Use a candy thermometer to check the temperature of the ale if necessary.)

Crush the seeds, either with a mortar and pestle, or with a coffee grinder.

In the bowl of a stand mixer, cream together the butter and sugar.  Scrape down the bowl and beat in the eggs, one at a time, and the crushed seeds.

Make a well in the flour mixture and pour in the yeast mixture.  

Fold the flour into the yeast with a spatula until roughly combined (it will not be smooth), then fold into the butter mixture.  Slowly beat in the milk, starting with 1/2 cup and adding more as needed, until you have a smooth, thick batter.

Pour into an 8" greased cake pan.  Bake in the middle of the oven for 40-45 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the middle comes out clean.  Let cool in pan for 5-10 minutes, then turn out onto a cake rack to cool completely.

Drink with the rest of the ale.  No sense wasting it!