Panettone Pudding


Happy new year!

Rushed off my feet as I was during Christmas week, I managed to squeeze in some time to eat as much panettone as I could manage. In between feedings, my days were divided as follows:

  • Daily viewings of Frozen. After an intervention and thorough dressing down by a group of friends with young kids, it was decided I could not carry on living my life and not watch it. And so I have. Many, many times. Because it is such a wonderful film!
  • Trying out at least one recipe from the latest Ottolenghi book, courtesy of my Secret Santa sister. I urge you to try the green lentils with tahini at the earliest opportunity.
  • Snowballs. Of the alcoholic kind.
  • Snoozing.
  • Obsessively putting together a jigsaw of a satellite photo of our house – cunning ploy devised by The Vegetarian Husband to keep me quiet on Christmas week. HA! I bet you weren’t counting on my snowball fuelled renditions of Let It Go, were you?


Back to the panettone, let me explain a festive routine we go through in this house. Every year, around the first week of December, I go Gennaro to stock up on their own brand panettone, before they run out. Gennaro is this Italian oasis of a shop in Lewisham, where you expect to bump into a 1950s Sofia Loren throwing tomatoes at you at any moment. It’s tiny, packed to the very last inch with food, permanently loud and busy. They make delicious panettone, just the right side of fluffy, fragrant and with the best crust I ever tasted. I keep a couple for us, and buy a few for presents. And around the 20th December, we run out and I run back to Gennaro begging for any cakes I can get my hands on, because what is Christmas without panettone?

For someone who gets so annoyed by picky eaters, I do have quite the nerve when it comes to panettone. I never grew out of my childish dislike of raisins and candied fruit. I know what you’re thinking: they do make fruitless panetonne, you know. Ah, but – and this is when even I get on my nerves! – I insist on a cake loaded with raisins, because… I like the taste they leave behind! Yes, God forbid someone picks the onions out of their meal. I will give them hell. But I go through a slice of panettone like a forensic investigator, removing every last bit of tiny fruit, and taking a good half hour to eat a single slice. Oh, how much it is worth it!


With the first week of January gone, I decided to admit defeat and accept we would not finish the last panettone. There was just under half of it left. Just as I was about to throw it in the bin, I remembered an old fashioned bread pudding I used to have as a kid. It’s one of those straight forward solutions to leftover bread. Which, like French toast or bread and butter pudding, tastes so much more special when made with fancy bread.


I put this in the oven this morning before starting work, and I’m afraid to say that half of it was wiped out for lunch. It’s just what you need to get you going on the dreary back-to-work rainy January: quick and easy, comforting caramely pudding.



Panettone Pudding:

I went through my ritual of removing all raisins and fruit from my cake before making this. If you want to keep the fruit in, I suggest you still remove them, prepare the pudding, and then add the fruit back again. If you just blend the whole thing together, the mashed up raisins will leave a bitter taste to the pudding. As for the tin, I used a round 20 cm (8 in) one. If you have a small bundt cake tin, it would make a very pretty pudding.


  • 3 to 4 slices of panettone
  • 2 cups (500ml) full fat milk
  • ½ cup (120g) caster sugar
  • 4 eggs

Caramel sauce:

  • 1 cup (240g) caster sugar
  • ½ cup (125ml) hot water

Place a roasting tray half filled with water in the over. Switch it on to 180C.

Make the sauce: in a heavy bottomed saucepan, melt the sugar on medium heat until you get a golden colour. Carefully add the hot water, and stand back as it will bubble furiously for a minute or so. Raise the heat to high and cook it until the sauce thickens a bit, stirring occasionally with a wooden spoon. This should take about 5 to 8 minutes, just so it’s thick enough to coat the back of a spoon.

Mix all the ingredients for the pudding in a blender until completely smooth. This is not a bitty dessert. It should be as smooth as – but denser than – a crème caramel.

Pour the hot sauce into a baking tin and tilt it so the sides of the tin are coated. You should still end up with a thick layer of liquid caramel at the bottom of the tin.

Pour the pudding mix over the caramel, taking care not to mix them. Carefully wrap the bottom of the tin in foil, and place it inside the roasting tray with water in the over. Cook it on the bagne-marie for about an hour – it should still be a bit wobbly.

Remove it from the oven, let it cool a little, and invert the pudding onto a serving plate while still warm. Let all the caramel drip over the pudding.

Serving suggestion: have a warm slice immediately, then place the pudding in the fridge and eat the rest of it when it’s completely cold.


Happy 2014 with Brazilian carrot and chocolate cake!


If I had to start 2014 with an overused food writing commonplace, I’d say that Brazilian carrot cake is my Proustian madeleine. Of all the cheese bread, brigadeiros, black beans and deep fried fare to pick from, it is the carrot cake that most strongly tastes of my childhood in Sao Paulo. It was pretty much a weekly occurrence at home, yet it never lost its special treat status .

It took me a while, and some disappointment, to realise that what we Brazilians call carrot cake is another creature altogether  from the cinnamon-nutmeg laced, cream cheese frosted variety common in England and America. Ours is a simple beast. Quite brightly orange, it’s pure carrot, with a chocolate topping that can’t really be called frosting. Halfway between a glaze and a syrup, one of the pleasures of carrot cake days was to surreptitiously run my fingers around each slice, breaking the just set crust of chocolate and reaching the chocolate goo lurking underneath it. And yes, I did say carrot and chocolate as a flavour combo. You will not know food love until you try it.

Maybe because bolo de cenoura is the special welcome I get when I visit Brazil, I probably decided at some point it should keep its superstar allure, which I suppose explains why I never attempted to make it myself. Except that’s a big fat lie. I did try to make it a few times, many years ago. And it was a complete failure. Really shockingly bad, straight-to-the-bin quality. At the time, I declared ‘English carrots’ were to blame, and let the matter rest. And then Christmas came, and the thought of family and home must have brought on the desperate craving, and with it the alarming realisation I did not possess a single recipe of my beloved cake. Which is exactly what the internet was invented for. After selecting the most attractive recipes and heading for the kitchen , this is what I learned about Brazilian carrot cake:

  1. Deceptively simple covers it. Who knew this humble and homely cake  was so particular about the way it gets baked?
  2. Do follow instructions closely, or be prepared to end up with a heavy and unbaked mess.
  3. Do not go for vague recipes. Even though this really is a simple and quick cake to make, there are a few tricks which, if not specified clearly on the instructions, will lead you to failure.
  4. If you find a recipe for ‘one step blend-it-all-together carrot cake’, bin it. It won’t work.
  5. This one I didn’t learn now, but was pleasantly reminded of all week: it makes the entire house smell like a piece of confectionery heaven like no other dessert does.
  6. It remains my all-time favourite cake.


I did get it right eventually, and I have one of the last delicious slices right here next to me as I type this. I still suspect there is a difference in the type of carrots from country to country, possibly in the water contents or freshness of carrots. For my now tried and tested recipe, I’ve used 2 medium carrots, but have stated the weight of them to hopefully make it more reliable. What you should get is a fluffy cake, not dry, but in no way as wet as a pudding. It should have a slightly sturdier consistency than a Victoria sponge, but still airy and bouncy. If it looks moist in the middle, it’s because it didn’t bake properly: go back to square one. As for the shape you choose to bake it: at home it was usually a square tray cake, but I have come across some taller and round ones. If you decide to use a bundt tin, add a third to the baking time. Also, the recipe I’m writing here is for a smallish tray. I used a brownie tin of 20X30 cm (8X12 in), so again, consider the size of the tins if using different shapes. I also found it much easier to get it right using a tray. I really hope my efforts have paid off and will ensure you get this right first time around. I promise you will never think of carrot cake the same way again.

If your 2014’s resolution was to try something new, I can’t think of any better way to start it!


Brazilian carrot and chocolate cake

As it’s common with regional recipes, any Brazilian you speak to will have their own version of what the ‘authentic’ chocolate topping should be like. For me, it must be the right side of viscous so it infiltrates the cake just so, and then sets on top of it as it cools down to form a barely there crust – a bit like the sugar crust on top of a lemon drizzle cake, only a bit less subtle.

 For the cake:

  •  2 medium carrots, sliced into 3 cm disks (roughly 1 inch). Or 230g.
  • 1 cup vegetable oil (230ml). I used corn, as it’s the only one I remember was available when I was a child, and I wanted this to taste like the real thing. Any neutral vegetable oil is fine.
  • 2 eggs
  • 1 ¼ cups caster sugar (280g)
  • 2 cups plain white flour (300g)
  • 1 tbsp baking powder
  • ½ tsp fine salt
  1. Grease and flour a 20X30 baking tray (8X12 in).
  2. Set the oven to 180C (350F).
  3. In a large bowl, mix the flour, baking powder and salt.
  4. In a blender, mix the carrots, oil, eggs and sugar. Blend it on the highest setting until it is completely smooth and not one bit of carrot is visible. Put the blender away and do not let it even look at the cake until it’s ready.
  5. Gently add the liquidised carrots to the flour mix and use a whisk to bring it all together. The dough will be liquid enough not to get stuck in the whisk. Mix it very well, but don’t beat it.
  6. Pour the dough into the prepared tin and bake it for approximately 30 minutes, or until the proverbial toothpick comes out clean. The house will be as fragrant as a dream  by now.
  7. When it’s ready, remove it from the oven, let it cool in the tin for 20 to 30 minutes, then gently transfer it to a plate and glaze it while still warm.

For the chocolate glaze:

  • 1 cup caster sugar (225g)
  • 4 tbsp unsalted butter
  • 5 – 6 tbsp milk, preferably full fat
  • 4 tbsp good quality cocoa powder. Pure Dutch is less acidic if you have it.
  • 1 tsp vanilla extract. Don’t overdo on the vanilla.

Mix all the ingredients in a small saucepan, mix well on a gentle heat and bring it to the boil. Let it boil for a minute or so.

While the cake is still warm, make small holes on its surface with a fork or toothpick. Slowly drizzle about half the glaze over the warm cake and let it sink in. Allow the remaining glaze to cool for 5 minutes or so and it will thicken a bit. Spread it on the cake so it forms a thin layer over it. As the cake cools down, the glaze will form a very thin and satisfying crust on it. It’s at its best the next day.


Amen: Angel Food Cake, angel hair, coconut frosting


It was always going to happen. Another year, another Great British Bake Off, another rush of trying the show’s recipes.

This week I decided to finally have a go at 3 recipes I’ve been meaning to for a while.

HL_fiosdeovos_aftermathOn Tuesday, after much anticipation, the new series of The Great British Bake Off finally started!  Having worked up to the last minute before the show and with no time left to cook, I got myself a bowl of cereal and settled for an hour of emotional cake rollercoaster. The nerves, the suspense, the laughter, the oohs and ahs at the creative talent coming up with Gaudi-inspired tower cakes, it all left me exhausted. Mel and Sue remain at once hilarious and very sweet and protective of the contestants; Mary Berry delivered the authoritative yet benevolent presence. And Paul Hollywood remained the fair judge with a firm hand. It’s such a predictable formula, but, just like the sandwich cakes on the first round, it’s comforting and never seems to get old. My only criticism: they could have given us a double bill season opener. I had to spend the next hour on Twitter to get the GBBO chatter out of my system.


The technical challenge was an angel food cake. I had this cake on my to-try list since I first read about it a while ago on David Lebovitz’s blog. It looks very white, light and pure, and I imagine very easy to mop up with a glass of cold milk. Or champagne. Looking at American recipes online, there seems to be a firm division between camp pure and simple, and those who prefer adding a bit of jam for the taste and colour contrast. Mary Berry apparently likes hers with sweet whipped cream. I’m not a fan of whipped cream on cakes, but an alternative quickly sprang to mind: I’ve also been meaning to try a coconut frosting for some time. I love coconut a great deal. It always annoys me when I come across coconut cake recipes, and it’s actually vanilla cake with vanilla buttercream, the only coconut in it being the shredded variety on top of the frosting. That’s not a coconut cake! So, I quickly got excited about making the angel food cake and topping it up with actual coconut icing. For a bit of colour, my own technical challenge: angel hair. Or Fios de Ovos, as I know them.

Now, please hear me out. I KNOW this may sound strange and possibly repulsive, but it is a truly marvellous addition to desserts, and I am amazed it is not more widespread outside its native Portugal. Made with a gargantuan amount of egg yolks and sugar, these eggy threads are very popular in Brazil – I suspect possibly more well-known there than in Portugal. It is one of the sweets I dedicate hours to every time I visit Sao Paulo, marvelling at the resilience of my liver. It is surprisingly delicate and light for something that uses so much sugar, and juicy  and sweet at every bite. I had never made it before, but this looked like the perfect opportunity. Since the cake took 12 eggs whites, I’d use the yolks for the angel hair.

HL_bundt_tinThe angel food cake: it requires a special ‘non-non-stick’ tin with legs, to allow the cake to rest upside down after baking without falling out. Since it’s made with a lot of stiff egg whites and little else, it’s very airy and fragile when warm, and it risks collapsing under its own weight if you remove it too quickly from the tin. And so I toured the cooking shops and department stores of London looking for the special tin, feeling like a right fool running to the shops whenever the telly tells me to do so. (yes, I could have ordered online, but I wanted it NOW!) The standard reaction was: ‘ah, you’ve been watching the GBBO, haven’t you? No, we don’t have them.’ Now, a word to the British entrepreneurial minds: this is a massively – massively – popular show. It attracts the sort of obsessives like me who of course will run and make the recipes they see on the show. Is it really much of a leap to work with the show’s PR, anticipate and prepare for the obvious demand? I had the same problem over a decade ago when cupcakes started becoming popular after the famous Sex And The City episode and the success of Magnolia Bakery. It took a good 3 or 4 years for cupcake cases or stands to be available in shops over here. Anyhow, I didn’t find the tin, but used the trick of resting a bundt cake tin upside down on the neck of a bottle. I also spread a thin layer of raw batter over the surface of the cake to try to make sure it stuck to the tin, which was non-stick and the only one I had. It worked! The cake rose beautifully, stayed put in the tin after baking, and finally came out once cool in one glorious piece. It did not collapse. It was springy and very, very light.  And at this point, I want to take a moment to say Thank You, America, for Angel Food Cake. If the world was a logical place, this would be known as wedding cake, because it would fit so well with most wedding decorations I can think of, and the lightness of it would be so welcome after a wedding feast. Although it is hard to improve on a name such as angel food.

The coconut frosting: is it too sad to admit that I dedicated a great part of my 4 day long weekend to perfecting this? None of the recipes I found quite did the trick, so I made this up with cream cheese, double cream and reduced coconut milk. It’s fresh and tangy and has a hint rather than a full-on taste of coconut.



And now for the fios de ovos (angel hair): it seemed the week was determined to throw obscure kitchen utensils at me. If you want to make this like a pro, you’ll need a special mug-funnel that I did not even attempt to look for. What you need to do with this dessert is have a cup of hardly beaten eggs yolks, then slowly and steadily pour a drizzle of yolks over a pan with steaming flavoured sugar syrup. Yes, it is essentially sugared egg yolks, but you really must try this to understand just how special it is. You could do this with a small sieve, but the specially designed funnel has larger holes that ensure continuous and long threads. I improvised: I got a small tin and made 5 large holes in it. It worked. The bright yellow threads looked striking over the fluffy white frosting. And the cake was as unique and delicious as described by every angel food cake enthusiast I met. If only Mary Berry could see me now!


Angel Food Cake: David Lebovitsz’s recipe

I went with almost the exact same recipe from David Lebovitz’s blog, which I am copying here with a few comments.  I’ve adjusted the amount of eggs slightly, and replaced cake flour – not easily available in the UK – with a mix of  all-purpose flour and a small amount of corn starch. His recipe states 45 minutes baking time. Mine was ready in just under 40, so start checking early.

  • 1 cup all-purpose flour with 2 tbsp taken out (120g)
  • 2 tbsp corn starch
  • 1 1/2 cups (300g) granulated sugar
  • 1/2 tsp fine salt
  • 12 egg whites, at room temperature
  • 1 tsp cream of tartar
  • 2 tsp fresh lemon juice
  • 1/2 tsp vanilla extract


If you have an angel food cake tin, use that. Do not grease it. Otherwise, a tube or bundt cake tin will do the job, but do not use non stick ones. As soon as the cake is ready, turn the improvised tin over the neck of a bottle – see step 6 below.

1. Preheat the oven to 180C (350F)

2. In a small bowl, sift together the flour, corn starch, 1/2 cup sugar, and salt.

3. Whip the eggs with an electric mixer. When they start becoming foamy, add the cream of tartar and lemon juice.

4. Increase the speed to high and continue to whip the egg whites until they just begin to hold their shape in soft, droopy peaks. Gradually whip the remaining 1 cup of sugar into the whites, 1/4 cup at a time. Do not overwhip; the egg whites should not be overly dry or stiff, but soft and cloud-like. At the last moment, mix in the vanilla.

5. With a rubber spatula,  fold the flour and sugar mixture into the whites gradually, a small amount at a time.

6. Spoon the batter in the pan, smooth the top, and bake for 40 -45 minutes. Remove from the oven and immediately invert the tube pan over a cooling rack. If the pan doesn’t have “feet”, set it over the neck of a heavy bottle or overturned metal funnel, using the center hole of the pan to hold the cake, until completely cool – at least an hour.

Coconut frosting:

  • 2 tins of coconut milk (800 ml/ 4 cups )
  • 200 ml (1cup) double cream. You may not need all of it. Keep the rest and add to to a cup of coffee to go with the cake.
  • 200g (3/4 cup) cream cheese
  • 6 tbsp caster sugar


  1. In a heavy bottomed saucepan, bring the coconut milk to a boil. Reduce the heat to medium and let it boil for 30 min or until it has reduced to 200ml (cup). Let it cool completely.
  2. In a medium bowl, add the cream cheese and a splash of the double cream. Whisk it with a fork until it’s lose and the cream completely incorporated into the cheese.
  3. In a separate medium bowl, whisk the double cream until it has firmed up to soft peaks. I prefer to do this by hand to avoid over-whisking. You want a soft consistency, so that cream still drops from the whisk when you lift it.
  4. Add the reduced coconut milk (which should have a much thicker consistency now that it’s cooled down) to the softened cream cheese and mix well.
  5. Add the whisked double cream and sugar, one tablespoon at the time, and mix until you achieve the taste and thickness you want. I added 6 tablespoons of cream and 3 of sugar, then stopped.
  6. Keep the frosting in the fridge and frost the cake just before serving.

Fios de Ovos/Angel Hair:

  • 12 egg yolks.
  • 1 cup caster sugar
  • ½ cup water
  • 1 tsp vanilla extract
  • 1 clove and 1 small stick of cinnamon (optional)


  1. If you don’t have a special angel hair funnel: either use a small sieve (only large enough to fit over a mug) or wash a small empty tomato tin and with a nail or sharp knife, make 5 holes in the bottom of the tin.
  2. Pass all the egg yolks through a sieve into a bowl. Mix it well with a fork, but don’t whisk it.
  3. In a wide heavy bottomed saucepan, mix the water and sugar and warm it over a medium heat until all the sugar has dissolved. Add the vanilla and, if using, the cinnamon and clove. Bring it to the boil, reduce the heat to low and let it boil for 5 minutes. Remove the clove and cinnamon.
  4. With the water and sugar still boiling on low heat: half fill the tin and stand it over the pan, making wide circles over the water. Keep the tin only a couple of inches above the water surface to ensure a continuous flow. Make about 5 circles and stop. Return the tin to the bowl with egg yolks.
  5. Watch the saucepan closely and allow about 2 minutes for the threads to solidify and turn bright yellow. You should see long threads forming. If they’re sticking, use a fork to separate them.
  6. Transfer the cooked threads to a large sieve over a bowl. Wet your fingers in cold water and slightly separate the threads. Leave them on the sieve while you cook the next batch.
  7. Repeat the process until all the eggs are cooked. If the sugar syrup becomes too thick, add more water, half a cup at a time.  Just drop new batches over the old ones on the sieve, and remove them all to a plate when you’ve finished. You should end up with a small cereal bowl of the final product, which is a bit more than what you’ll need to cover the cake.
  8. Serve cold from the fridge.


Quince swiss roll, a Shakespearean cake, and a guilty secret


I love swiss roll. It looks so romantically pretty, and every bite offers an equal portion of light sponge, jam and cream. How not to like it? Growing up, my favourite one was filled with guava jam. Which brings me to another great love of mine: guava. On one of the many hours of my life I waste creating lists of top 5 best dishes, best ever desserts, or 5 ingredients I couldn’t live without (butter heads that list, thanks for asking), I recently asked myself what my Desert Island food would be. And I have almost decided it would be guava. Apart from the fact that it smells and tastes like a dream, it is also full of vitamin C – that’s that scurvy dealt with when I’m sailing away towards shipwreck. Considering the amount of time it takes to eat it, with all those millions of pits to spit out, and then the other many hours to get rid of the smaller pits stuck in your teeth, it’s the ideal fruit to keep me occupied at the island.


IMG_3042Now I live in England and guava is so hard to come by, I am always on the lookout for alternatives. It was with that mother of all problems in the back of my mind that I came to the Flavours of Spain stall at my beloved Brockley Market. Amongst manchegos and serranos and ibericos and olives, they had this beautiful block of quince paste. In Brazil, aIMG_1102 popular use of the versatile guava is a paste called goiabada, which must be one of my favourite things on this earth. Relatives and friends visiting from Brazil, take note: goiabada always makes a wonderful present. Similar in looks to quince paste, it has a very concentrated guava flavour, a thicker and stickier consistency and, in typical Brazilian fashion, a ton of sugar in it. If you can’t feel the tooth decay advancing as you eat it, you’ve been robbed. A classic dessert in Brazilian cuisine is called Romeo&Juliet (how lovely is that?), and consists of a big fat slab of goiabada next to a slice of fresh cheese. You see where I’m going with this. What if I replace goiabada with quince paste,  add some cheese and fill a swill roll with it?

Reader, that is exactly what I did! But first, a confession: my love of swiss roll reaches someIMG_1197 dark corners of my appetite. I also love that cheap, industrialised one with synthetic strawberry flavour. The one only available in the worst corner shops, with the big yellow 99p price stamped on the packet and not an ounce of natural anything in it. I can’t help it. Now and again, I get a craving that will not be quenched by anything but the junk shop bought strawberry swiss roll. So, you see, in making the transfat-free quince swiss roll I was hoping to achieve something pure and beautiful and be free once and for all of this ugly addiction.


The market attracts all sorts of punters

The market attracts all sorts of punters

Given that I was looking for Brazilian flavours, I went with a local recipe from the wonderful Brazilian food site Panelinha. Different from a classic British swiss roll, it does not use any raising agent. It relies on the stiff egg whites for volume. It also bakes for a shorter time. Along with a smaller quantity of flour, it uses potato starch. I’m not sure what the science behind this is, but I believe potato starch is a stronger and quicker thickening agent than flour, which helps keep the dough from breaking when you roll the cake. I think. Or if you know any different, please tell. I didn’t add any vanilla to the dough, as I wanted a neutral taste that would allow the quince to shine.


IMG_1123The quince behaved like a star. Much less sweet, yet very marked taste even after baked.  And no, it does not taste anything like guava. I also looked it up, and they do not seem to be related, despite it looking so similar. I picked up a cheese called Rosary while I was still l at the market. It’s a goat’s cheese, but very fresh and did not taste savoury, but quite refreshing as a filling.

I’m still calling it Romeo and Juliet swiss roll because it’s too good a name to miss. And the good news is,  after eating this, I have not yet given the 99p variety a second thought!

Romeo and Juliet Quince Swiss Roll

adapted from Brazilian food site Panelinha


  • 5 eggs, separated and at room temperature
  • 4 tbps all-purpose flour
  • 1 tbsp potato starch
  • 5 tbsp caster sugar
  • 200g/1 cup quince paste + 2 tbps
  • 100g/ 1/2 cup fresh cheese: I used Rosary. What would also work: ricotta, cream cheese, Spanish queso blanco, mascarpone.


  1. Preheat the oven to 180C/350F
  2. Grease and flour a small swiss roll or baking tray of 30x20cm /8×12 in
  3. Beat the eggs until soft peaks form
  4. Still beating, add the sugar, one tablespoon at the time
  5. Gradually add the egg yolks, beating well after each addition
  6. Stop the mixer, add the flour and potato starch gently with a large spoon and mix. Beat with the electric mixer only enough to incorporate the dry ingredients into the dough. Do not overbeat.
  7. You will have a lot of dough and it will look like too much for the small baking tray. It is not. The dough will fill the baking tray and won’t rise, but stay light and fluffy.
  8. Bake for 15 to 20 minutes, or until it starts to look golden. (mine took less than 20)

While it bakes:

  1. Dampen a tea towel and place it on a working surface. Sprinkle it generously with caster sugar.
  2. Make the filling: Add a couple of tablespoons of water to the quince paste and melt it in a small saucepan on low-medium heat. You can replace water by port or some other tipple of your preference. I was having a teetotal day. Remove it from the heat and add the cheese, mixing it well. I left a few white streaks of cheese to contrast it with the red of the quince.
  3. cut the remaining 2 tablespoons of quince into small cubes


  1. Remove the cake  from the oven and only allow it to cool for a couple of minutes before turning into the wet tea towel.
  2. Spread the filling over the cake. Distribute the remaining quince it over the filling.
  3. Hold on the tea towel and carefully roll the swiss roll. It really is quite easy. Make sure the cake is still warm and just roll it really slowly.