Quiche Recipe You'll Love

I've been cooking for quite a few years now. So many recipes have come and gone, but there are wonderful classics that are as popular as ever. In this series I'll show you how to cook some of the best of them in my very special way. I'm just saving on the washing up. From timeless ideas perfect for entertaining. I can't wait to see my artichoke candles on To tempting dishes inspired by our green and pleasant land. And some classic home comforts that will put a smile on your face. These dishes can often seem daunting, but I'm going to show you some tips and techniques that make them quick, easy and simply delicious. And most importantly, with almost no fuss. In this programme, some favourites from the past that are making a great comeback. How about that then? Some traditions never die, even though they become less popular. The same can be said for food. I want to cook you some recipes that had fallen from favour, but are now making a comeback. A French classic that was once the cornerstone of fine dining. The quintessential 70s favourite for a scrumptious lunch. One of the original one pot wonders, full of flavour and warmth. And this heavenly combination of banana and toffee. Where would we be without it? But first, a starter that's come flying back into our hearts. Prawn cocktail was the fashion in 1966 when I first made it. The very first dinner parties that we had when we were married, an awful lot of thought and effort went into what you were going to serve. And if it was a really special occasion, without doubt it would be prawn cocktail. This neon pink starter was once found on almost every restaurant menu. 50 years on and it's staging a well-deserved comeback. For me, the secret to a perfect prawn cocktail is all in that famously pink Marie Rose sauce. Couldn't be easier, 150ml of mayonnaise and use the full fat one. Into the bowl. Now to give it some colour and oomph. I'm going to add some sun-dried tomato paste. You know, in the old days, we would have just used tomato puree from a tube, which made it very, very bright pink. This is a much more delicate pink. So two teaspoons. That's it. Add a lively dash of Worcester sauce. And now for my secret ingredient. In 1966, I put hot horseradish sauce in it. And I've kept up the tradition and I think it's one of the best Marie Rose sauces. Finish your sauce with seasoning and a generous squeeze of lemon. So that's it. Add some lovely North Atlantic prawns. Make sure to pat them thoroughly dry. If they're all wet, when you put them in with the mayonnaise, it'll become very, very runny. Gosh, it's certainly taking me back a bit. Finely shred some beautifully crisp lettuce. But for me, what makes it a prawn cocktail is the gorgeous presentation. Pile the prawns on top of the lettuce. In that goes. Just fabulous. And one final flourish. Some beautiful prawns. How you put them is just up to you, but I think they look rather nice hanging on the side. That's it. And then take the lemon and make a slit just through the piss. It'll grip on the side of the glass. A dusting of vibrant paprika and a sprig of parsley complete the picture. In 1966, prawn cocktail was very avant-garde, right up to the minute, very fashionable. Well, here we are. I give it a great welcome back because I love prawn cocktail. Some traditions are definitely worth saving, whether it's recipes from the past or an old-fashioned way of farming the ingredients. I've come to a beautiful corner of Hampshire next to the New Forest to meet Robert, a farmer with a lifelong love of horses. Morning, Mary. Good morning. Shake hands as soon as I've got rid of this lot. Hello there. How are you? You okay with horses? I love them, thank you. What's your call? This is Edith. Hello, Edith. You're going out to do some work, yeah, Mary? And just to top it off, she's got to work with Stalin as well. You're going to have a tough time. It's your turn. Edith, get off me. Like many of the horses he breeds, Robert was born on this farm and he's never strayed from the old ways of working the land. Forgive me, but there are machines. Why do you do it? My father never fully mechanised tractors along with horses and vice versa. And so Dad never got rid of them, but everybody else did. And so I was brought up with them. They sort of grow on you somehow. And how many horses would you use for ploughing usually? We use anything up to eight. Good gracious, but you'd prefer it this way? There are days when you think, well, I'm not sure why I'm doing this at all, but it's a joy. If it goes well, there's nothing better. Well, we've got it all ready. How difficult is it? Will you show me? Oh, certainly. I have never been ploughing before. Oh, well. Not with horses. Well, come on, Edith. Well, we'll put a bridle on Norse first. It's never too late to teach an old dog new tricks. Come on, Edith. Try and keep up. You're rather full of yourself, aren't you, mate? Well, there are one or two other girls about, I think, in the other field. Yes, yes, yes. If you've got it, you have to flaunt it. Before I try my hand at something new, I want to show you a die-hard classic I've been cooking for at least 60 years. I learnt to make the soup in college, and it was one of the first recipes we started with. And I'm going to show you how easy it is. So to start with, I'm going to take some butter and some oil. If you put butter and oil together, they can come to a higher temperature without burning. When it's sizzling nicely, slide in six finely chopped onions. Plenty to feed a household and so economical. You coat them all in the butter and the oil. I'm not trying to colour them at all. I'm just trying to make them very soft. Down with the heat and just let them cook very, very gently. Now that has had 10 minutes cooking in its own steam. Now I want to caramelise those onions, and you do that by adding one and a half tablespoons of caster sugar. This is a wonderful trick to brown those onions, but keep a close eye on them. Too dark and they'll become bitter. So the onions have been cooking for about 15 minutes. They're a gorgeous sort of conker colour and the smell is wonderful. The next thing is I'm going to add 200 ml of wine, and I'm pretty good at judging 200 ml in a bottle. Years of experience. So in that goes. Exactly. Turn up the heat to drive off the alcohol and reduce it by half. Then add two litres of good stock. Already the soup is that gorgeous deep brown colour, but to add fragrance and flavour, three bay leaves and a sprig of rosemary. Give it a good season and a final 10 minute simmer. And the soup should be ready now. Look at that. Oh, it smells absolutely beautiful. Find a lovely deep bowl to do it justice. I think this is every bit as good as you would have it in France. After all, we've used exactly the same ingredients. To top it all off, I need one more delicious morsel. Bubbling croutes, smothered with mustard and Gruyere cheese. Oh, I love it. That makes me think of Switzerland. Funny that we should be using it for French onion soup. These are toasted to perfection and it should be really crispy. And that's how it should be because the moisture of the soup will come up and make it a little bit soft and it'll be full of wonderful textures. And there you have it, a classic comeback. As good as it was in my college days, it really is one of the best soups you'll ever taste. Back on the fringes of the New Forest, I'm about to have my first taste of ploughing, the equine way. Oh, gracious, here's the plough. That's exactly what it is, it's a horse plough. That's old, isn't it? Oh, yeah. It would have been, I don't know, just after the First World War. Really? Come on, excuse me. I know you don't really want to go to work, but, you know, a little more enthusiasm would be nice. I hope he's talking to the horses, not to me. Twinkle toes in the furrow. Eat it. Thank you, that's where I want you. Hold fast. I've been driving a car for decades, but this is something else. They're going at quite a pace, aren't they? Yeah, they will steady down. They usually go slower away from home than they do to wards. And how would you stop them? Look at that. They know your voice. They're very obedient, aren't they? Yeah. It's the tone, basically. And, I mean, they're listening for you to say, whoa, all the time. It's taken years to train Edith and Norse to work this well, but Robert makes it look so easy. As far as guiding the horses, you just watch their front feet. So long as Edith remains in the furrow, the plough will stay where it should be. And they know exactly what they should be doing. And you've had to train them to do that. Yes, yes. Whoa, whoa. Right, Mary, now it's your turn. I was afraid that was coming. Walking the dog is one thing, but two tons of determined workhorse is quite another. I hold firmly on here, and you're going to hold... Yes. Right. Yeah. And if they go too fast, I have to say, whoa! Yeah, exactly that. Are you listening to me? Well, they might be. So what do I say to get them going? Hold fast, and then... I bet they take no notice. It's easier than you think. Ha, ha. Norse, hold fast. Get up. Just let Edith line off a little bit. Just let it slide a little bit. There you are. You've got the other one. Right, you're in complete control of the situation now. Right. You feel like you're in control? Well, you know, it's good walking in the furrow because it's beautifully smooth, and these ropes are just guiding them. You watch their front feet. So long as she's there in the furrow, the plough will plough. So all you have to do is follow it. Farming like this may seem old-fashioned, but it can have a lower impact on the environment than using machinery. Shall I see if I can stop? Yeah, please. Whoa! There you are. How about that then? There you are. Thank you, especially you, your difficult girl, Edith, for taking notice. That wasn't too bad, was it? Considering they're pointed towards home, not bad at all. Whilst Robert and the horses plough on, I'm planning a lunch I hope will be just the ticket. And its centrepiece is a classic we all know. I'm going to show you how to make the perfect quiche. For me, the secret lies in a beautifully crisp pastry crust. I'm starting mine in a processor. So in goes 225 grams of strong plain flour and just over half as much chilled butter. And I've just cut it into cubes, just drop that in and give it a quick whizz. A few seconds should do the trick. Now that, to me, resembles breadcrumbs. To bind those breadcrumbs together, I like to add a whole egg with just a touch of water. Exactly one tablespoon. On with the top and then process it until it is almost coming together. Now that's enough. Now for the bit I love best, rolling out the pastry. That's it. Always flour underneath the pastry. This brings me back to my college days. And flour the rolling pin. And roll that out a little to begin with. Keep it in a round. Don't make it into an oblong. Now I reckon that is about the right size. Let's have a look and see. First, flip the base under the sheet. I'm going to show you the perfect way to get your pastry into the tin without disaster. Fold in very gently all the way around. Fold it in like that. That's it. I think this way is really very, very easy. Then just pop it in there. Then gently press the pastry into the sides to give you that wonderful fluted edge. To ensure the very crispest of crusts, I'm going to bake it blind once with beans. Then remove the beans and the paper and back in the oven at the same temperature to really dry the base out. It'll take about five or ten minutes. Keep an eye on it. I'm jolly pleased with that. Once the base has cooled, it's ready for the fabulous filling. First, a couple of finely sliced leeks along with two chopped up celery sticks. All beautifully cooked in a little olive oil until really tender. I'm going to spread that right to the edge so everybody gets a bit of leek and celery. Top it with some gutsy grated stilton and a sprinkling of parsley. To bind all these wonderful flavours together, I'm making a rich savoury custard from four eggs, 450 ml of double cream and just a little salt and pepper. So pour that over right into the corners and that's just the right amount. It looks good already, doesn't it? One last trip to a slightly cooler oven at 160 fan until the filling's just set. There it goes on the plate and then a little bit of a wobble. That's how to make a perfect quiche. A beautiful golden brown underneath. The custard is beautifully set and I know it's going to taste delicious. And where better to serve a delicious quiche than at a ploughman's lunch amongst crusty bread, homemade chutney and some beautiful cheddar. Robert, I hope you're hungry. Come and join us. Can I put you in charge of the cider? I wouldn't do that. Oh, come on, there we are. I'll cut you a bit of cheese. Every farmer likes cheese, don't they? Well, when I was a kid, a ploughman's lunch was a raw onion, a big lump of bread, a big lump of cheese and a bottle of cold tea. These are old boys usually. Their teeth had gone, so it was out with a pocket knife and they'd cut a bit off, peel the onion. It's better than your old onion bread. Now, this is Stilton and Leek. I'm honoured. There we are. Moving up, moving up. Wow, it's moving up, isn't it? And I like the pastry, it's the best part. Very good. It's hard work, isn't it, ploughing? Oh, yeah. But you love it. You're keeping on with this craft. The skill takes a lot of the work out of it, but it is still, yeah, hard work. I think I should drink to you and thank you for a very happy day and I have just started to learn another skill. Cheers. Being on the farm with Robert reminds me of another hearty classic that deserves to be championed. Irish stew must be one of the original one-pot meals. I was brought up on it. Very simple, no wine, no cream, just lamb, carrots, onions and potatoes. I always use neck fillet, just like my mother did before me. The full flavour of the lamb is brought out with the long, slow cooking. Lightly coating the meat in flour is a great way to thicken any stew. One, two. Add a little oil to a hot, flame-proof casserole. Then just put the meat in, wait for the sizzle, spread it out in the pan and keep turning it until it's brown on all sides. All I'm doing is just giving it a nice crisp outside which will add to the colour of the casserole. I don't want to lose all those meaty flavours so I'm going to fry up my two thinly sliced onions in the same pan along with three sliced carrots. Now actually, I'm going to put the lid on there. I'll tell you why, because it'll create a bit of steam and the steam will loosen that lovely crusty bit at the bottom of the pan. Now that is all going to add to the flavour. So while that's just starting off on its own, I'm going to slice the potatoes. I don't know whether it's classic to put the potatoes in a pattern on the top. I think many people just put all the vegetables in, hiddledy-piddledy, but that's what my mother used to do and I used to like it because you had lots of crispy potatoes. So that's what I'm going to do today. I'm just going to have a look and see how these carrots and onion are. Now I'm going to add a couple of bay leaves, some fresh thyme leaves stripped from their stalks, then a generous seasoning of salt and pepper. That's it. Followed by that lovely browned off lamb and its delicious juices. Then give that a good stir, sizzling away here. That's well mixed. But what a stew needs is a really good gravy, so I'm adding 600 mils of a light stock. That could be lamb stock, it could be chicken stock. If you haven't any stock at all, you could use water because there's lots of flavour coming from the meat and the vegetables. Now I'm ready for those potatoes, just like my mother did them. It's a bit like a jigsaw. There it is, gently bubbling away. On with the lid. Turn the heat off and into the oven for about two hours until the meat is beautifully tender. That looks a bit of alright. It looks most appetising but I want those potatoes to be crispy on top. Five or ten minutes at 180 fan without the lid should sort that out. This doesn't half remind me of home. Let's see how it is. The carrot, the potatoes, the meat and all that wonderful juice and gravy. That slow cooking, it makes all the difference. Pretty good. I know some young men back on the farm who would wolf down a hearty stew like that. Tom and Fred, two of Robert's sons, do an incredibly physical job. You might imagine this back-breaking ancient trade would be on its way out but over 2,000 registered farriers are still toiling away in the UK. That's certainly hard, hot work. It certainly is. And that's for quite a big horse, isn't it? Yeah, this is for cart horses. We only make the cart horse shoes now. Everything else you can buy in much cheaper and easier than sweating over this. So how many horses do you have here? I don't know, must have 30 fullbreds and probably 20-odd ponies and things. There's got to be 50 horses here. Well, you could be kept in business on your own horses, couldn't you? Yeah, yeah, yeah, but that doesn't pay very well. I was just going to say, I bet he's not as generous. No, certainly not. But these two don't just earn their money through sweat. It took them four long years to gain the expertise required to shoe horses. You've got to know about where the blood is, bones are, ligaments, everything. And that's why the apprenticeships are long. So you've got to have the skills, you've got to be able to do all of it. And you do that all by the eye, you don't measure it, that's experience. I used to measure it when I was learning. I notice your dog is very near, knows exactly what you're doing. It's amazing to think that was a straight bit of steel before you started. Magic. I wouldn't use magic. You've got to be tough to do your job, haven't you? I can see you've got an awful lot to do. And at the back there, I can see two mugs of tea. You haven't half deserved it. Thanks so much. If anyone deserves something rich and sugary with their cuppa, it's these two. I'm pretty sure a slice of my banoffee pie would go down a treat. I don't know whether you noticed, but there was spring in my step. I'm going to be totally indulgent and do one of my favourite puds. What could be more delicious than a simple biscuit crust of digestives and melted butter? I use a 20 centimetre tin. Once you're ready, slip it in the fridge to chill. And I'm now going to start with making that glorious toffee topping. Mix together 75 grams each of butter and light muscovado sugar and stir until the sugar has completely dissolved. And then we add the condensed milk. What memories have you got of condensed milk? I can remember it in a tube. We used to put it on biscuits, you'd put it on bread and it just brings back some sort of... Wouldn't you like to be dipping your finger in that? It is glorious, happy memories. It's really, really wicked. So let's add the wickedness to the pan now. You've got to stir it all the time. If you don't, you get little brown marks on the bottom of the pan and it really does spoil your banoffee pie. Once it's transformed into a gorgeous thick caramel, mix in a teaspoon of vanilla extract then pour it all over your chilled biscuit base. Look at it, rich and indulgent. It is delectable. It's absolutely delicious. I'm just saving on the washing up. After an hour or so in the fridge, my irresistible toffee should be set. What's needed now is a layer of bananas. Just in from the edge because if I leave the edge right out, it'll go brown so I shall be keeping the air from it when I put the cream on top. Just in case you thought that wasn't enough richness, it's time for a generous dollop of whipped cream. I told you it was an indulgent pudding. If you can fight off the clamouring crowds long enough, give it another hour to chill. Finish with a flourish of pipe dark chocolate. How about that then? There it is in all its glory. Not much gets better than this. It's absolutely superb. Well worth the effort and I'm enjoying every mouthful.