EAT DRINK LIVE

ON THE TWELFTH DAY...

"Had I but a penny in the world, thou shouldst have it for gingerbread" William Shakespeare.

For all of you breathing a sigh of relief that the world is once again as it should be; look away now. Today is the twelfth day of Christmas and though the Ferrero Rocher pyramid may be reduced to it's foundations with not nearly enough left to spoil anyone, for me it's not over until the fat-bellied novelty santa sings Jingle Bells one last time.

As well as being forever associated with William Shakespeare's comedy Twelfth Night, January 6 was once celebrated in Ireland as Nollaig na mBan or Women's Christmas. With pinkies raised high in front of tables laden with cakes, sandwiches and many pots of tea, us laydees thanked ourselves for all the hard work put in pampering the menfolk throughout Christmas. Perhaps seeming a little old-fashioned nowadays when the workload is more equally shared (ahem), it is a largely forgotten tradition that was revived in my house today with tea and scones and lashings and lashings of gingerbread. Tomorrow the decorations come down and our lives become just a little less sparkly.

The recipe is from Darina Allen's Festive Food of Ireland (which came free with my voucher for a day at Ballymaloe Cookery School thank you kind sister!) A stir the melted ingredients into the dry ingredients kind of recipe, it is well worth the minimal effort - resulting in a sticky, darkly-spiced bread that must be spread with a layer of butter thick enough to double as a dental mould. The recipe makes a lot of gingerbread but it keeps really well in a tin for ages (in fact it will taste better a day or two after baking) and you can bake it in whatever tin falls out of the cupboard first. Just be aware that the baking times will vary.

Next time you visit I promise there will not be the slightest whisper of bells.

GINGERBREAD

• 450g plain flour
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1 1/2 tsp ground ginger
• 2 tsps baking powder
• 1/2 tsp bicarb of soda
• 225g soft brown sugar
• 170g butter, cut into cubes
• 350g treacle
• 300ml milk
• 1 egg, beaten
• 1 handful sultanas (optional)
• 30g crystallised ginger, finely chopped (optional)

1. Preheat the oven to 180 C. Butter and line two 9inch x 5 inch loaf tins or about 12 mini loaf tins or line two 12 hole muffin tins with paper cases. Sieve all the dry ingredients together in a bowl.
2. Gently warm the sugar and butter in a small, heavy-based pan until the butter melts. Add the treacle and the milk and allow to cool slightly. Stir into the dry ingredients.
3. Add the egg and the optional ingredients if using and mix very thoroughly, making sure there are no lumps of flour left.
4. Divide between your chosen baking tins and bake for about 1 hour for the loaf tins, 35-40 minutes for the mini loaves and 20-25 minutes for the muffins or until a skewer inserted into cakes comes out clean.
5. Turn out of tin, cool and serve in thick slices inch thick with butter.

Makes 2 loaves.

ROLL OVER, BEETHOVEN.

My cupboards have been cleaned out, everything that was two years past it's best before date has been tossed and it's my 100th post today! Who would have thought I'd have a hundred things to say, and a few people willing to read them. I've met some amazing new people, both virtually and in reality, got to chat about food without putting anyone into a coma and I've eaten a lot of chocolate. I'm completely hooked on this now so I'll keep going and try think of another hundred things to mumble on about should you be prepared to listen.

I know the only reason anyone is here is for the sugar (not the saccharine waffle) so here's what the kitchen clearout resulted in. A box of vegetable suet with not much time left for this world finally achieved it's roly-poly destiny. Eaten straight from the oven, encrusted with sugar, filled with mouth-blisteringly hot jam and swimming in custard, jam roly-poly is the ultimate comfort food. Like Valium in pudding form, it's best not to make any plans once it's eaten in case the body refuses to do as it's told. Light the fire, grab a book (preferably something classic and English) and enjoy.

This rib-sticking recipe is from Eat Up by Mark Hix, a book I spoke about back in the early days. I used damson jam as the filling when the jar was unearthed early in the excavations. You can choose your own favourite shop bought or otherwise.

You can find a good custard recipe here.

JAM ROLY POLY

• 100g plain flour
• 100g strong bread flour
• 1 tbls baking powder
• pinch of salt
• 50g light brown sugar
• 115g suet
• zest of half a lemon, grated
• about 150ml water
• 5 tbls jam, warmed
• milk for brushing
• demerera or granulated sugar

1. Preheat the oven to 200 C and grease a large baking tray. Sift the flours, baking powder and salt into a bowl, then stir in the sugar, suet and lemon zest. Add enough water to make a soft but not sticky dough.
2. Roll out on a lightly floured surface to a rectangle about 5mm thick, then spread with the warm jam, leaving a 1cm border. Roll up loosely and join the ends together to seal. Place on the prepared tray, brush with milk, then sprinkle with sugar. Bake in the oven for 30-40 minutes until golden brown.

Serves 4(ish)

ASK AND WE SHALL ANSWER...

... the ICE-CREAM MAN has called upon us in the name of sweetness and we shall follow. Seek HERE and ye shall find the road to temptation. I have been plagued by fudge demons for many years, being tormented by tooth-shattering shards or lumps of undissolved sugar. But today I have been healed. Our leader Kieran's recipe for Caraibe-and-Coffee Fudge held the key to my salvation. I did not stray from his word and I have now been blessed with the means to bestow edible gifts upon deserving followers this Christmas.

In celebration, but I confess to committing the sin of gluttony, I baked Kahlua Brownies. Again Kieran's words were all that were needed to create a delicacy whose decadent lacing of alcohol almost sent me into the abyss, but now that I have seen the light I will sin no more (or at least will confess no more).

   

You have until November 25th to be saved, convert now and the Gospel According to Murphy's could be yours.

Kieran’s Coffee Fudge Recipe

Ingredients:

500 gm caster sugar
250 ml cream
120 gm Caraibe (66%) chocolate
75 ml very strong coffee
40 gm butter

What to Do

1. Put all of the ingredients in a good, thick-bottomed pan (it shouldn’t be too small, or it’s more likely it will burn).
2. Melt over low heat, stirring until chocolate and sugar are dissolved.
3. Cease stirring, increase the heat, and bring the temperature to 115C.
4. Immediately place the pan in a cold water bath to stop the cooking process (you can use your sink, half-filled with water).
5. Cool until 80C. Beat with wooden spoon until fudge lightens in colour and becomes more solid.
6. Pour into baking tray and cool until the fudge sets.
7. Cut and serve.

Dark Chocolate Brownies with Kahlua

Servings : 8   Preparation Time : 00:45:00 (including baking)

Ingredients:

250 grams chocolate (70% cocoa content)
165 grams butter — at room temperature
3/4 tablespoon natural vanilla
300 grams sugar
100 grams flour
3 each egg
100 ml Kahlua Liqueur

Instructions:

1. Preheat the oven to 180 C.
2. Butter and flour an 10 inch square baking pan. Set it aside.
3. Melt the chocolate and butter in a double boiler. Mix until smooth.
4. Beat the sugar and eggs together.
5. Add the vanilla.
6. Slowly pour in the chocolate and butter, mixing all the time.
7. Sift the flour, then add, mixing thoroughly.
8. Stir in the Kahlua.
9. Pour the batter into the prepared pan, and bake 25 minutes (a knife should come out just about clean).
10. Allow the brownies to cool slightly. Then cut them into squares and transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.

PUMPKIN PATCH

Let it never be said that I don't play my part in pumping the little monsters and ghouls of Limerick full of sugar. Tonight is the beginning of the Celtic new year when the gods can roam freely in our world playing as many tricks as they see fit on us unsuspecting humans. Not much has changed then in the last few millenia. Whether eggs would have been their trick of choice is debatable but perhaps I can offer a marzipan pumpkin as some protection.

P.S. You can find the cupcake recipe here and decorate as spookily as you see fit.

I MAY NEVER NEED A DOCTOR AGAIN.

The secret to eternal health (if not youth) is a bushel of apples. Okay there's not quite a bushel (48lbs) here but it's such a great word and I've always wanted to use it in a sentence. My sister found a bag of her neighbours sweet red eating apples loitering on her doorstep when she got home from work (and kindly donated them to me) and the suck-your-cheeks-in-sour green ones are lifted from my mother's garden.

The sweet apples went into an apple bread and the tart ones into an apple jelly (to follow in the next instalment). As my laptop screen is currently fogging up in a cloud of steam from a Witches of Eastwick vat of bubbling brew I'll have to make this fast. The bread is dense and sticky sweet and is a bread in the banana-bread sense, it's a cake really if you ask me. The recipe comes from Tessa Kiros' Apples for Jam and as she says herself it makes a great breakfast treat or an after-school snack or, as you can see, it fits just beautifully into a little tin for portability. One note of caution, make sure you butter AND flour the loaf tin if you don't and half your cake is left behind, don't come crying to me.

APPLE & CINNAMON SUGAR BREAD

• 150g caster sugar
• 150g butter
• 2 eggs
• 120g plain flour
• 1 tsp bicarb of soda
• 1 tsp baking powder
• 1/2 tsp cinnamon
• a little freshly ground cinnamon
• 400g apples, peeled, cored and grated
• 60g walnuts or pecans, lightly toasted and roughly chopped
• 1 tsp vanilla extract

For the topping:

• 60g walnuts or pecans, finely chopped
• 60g brown sugar
• 1 tsp cinnamon

1. Preheat the oven to 180 C. Butter AND flour a 12 x 4 inch loaf tin. Beat together the butter and sugar with an electric mixer, at a medium speed until light and fluffy. Add the eggs one at a time and beat them in well. Sift the flour, bicarb of soda, baking powder, cinnamon and nutmeg and add in a pinch of salt. Reduce mixer speed to low and mix in well. Add the apples, nuts and vanilla and mix those in too. Scrape the mixture into the tin.
2. For the topping, mix the sugar, nuts and cinnamon and then scatter generously over the top of the cake batter. Bake for about 45 minutes or until cake tester into the middle comes out clean. Start checking after 30 minutes and cover with foil if the cake is browning too fast. Cool slightly before turning out gently (it's pretty fragile). Eat it on it's own or with lots of salted butter.

Makes 1 loaf.

BYE BYE BERRIES.

I PROMISE this is the last bowl of blackberries. As I was out walking yesterday morning, I saw that the footpath was gorily splattered with the remains of kamikaze berries. It's a case of "If you don't find something tasty to do with me, I'm going to jump". I can't ignore the demands of fruit in peril so I've got another double whammy for you. The first is a blackberry crostata from How to be a Domestic Goddess made with a gorgeous blackberry and apple jam kindly donated by my new bloggily met friend, the lovely Sarah. We met up in Limerick's food haven the Milk Market on Saturday, a suitably public spot in case I turned out to be a bearded 6' 4", eighteen stone baker (I shaved off my beard last week). This remains my favourite part of blogging; getting to meet other food-mad people and free pots of jam. I also bumped into Val, and the Italian Foodies (princess included) whizzed past me at one stage, no doubt on their way to somewhere Italiany and foodie.

The crostata is a cross between a cake and a tart, golden and buttery with some lemon zest for a bit of zing. Accompany with a cup of tea or coffee of an afternoon or drowned in hot custard for dessert. The recipe down at the very end there is for a bramble (blackberries to you and me) jelly. This takes the very heart of the blackberry and pares it down to a beautifully smooth, deep purple haze of a jam/jelly. It is so simple but does require a little advance thinking. Give me a teaspoon and a toothbrush and I'll excavate a field but when it comes to food all my archaeological patience goes out the window. The blackberries are cooked gently then left to drip through a jelly bag overnight-I gave up after 2 hours. Just don't squeeze the berries or you'll end up with a cloudy rather than exquisitely clear jelly. I,sadly, only ended up with enough juice for a small jar, but it is tart and bursting with flavour. This will pair well with any bread-like vehicle you can think of though the recipe also recommends it with lamb, you'll have to let me know about that one.

So, it's good-bye to the last of the berries, rescue any you happen upon this week (they have so little time left). Gather enough of them and you can keep them in their various guises in your cupboard for the rest of the year. Then you get to start all over again.

Recipe from How to be a Domestic Goddess.

BLACKBERRY CROSTATA

• 75g soft unsalted butter
• 150g caster sugar
• 2 large eggs
• 200g plain flour (preferably Italian 00)
• pinch of salt
• 1 tsp baking powder
• zest of 1 lemon
• 200g blackberry jam

1. Preheat the oven to 180 C and put in a baking sheet. Butter a 20cm high-sided fluted flan tin or a cake tin of a similar size.
2. Cream the butter and sugar. Beat the eggs one at a time until the volume has increased. Sift the flour, salt and baking powder, and fold into the egg and butter mixture. Add the lemon zest.
3. Spoon into the tin, spreading it out to leave a 2 1/2cm rim all around. Spoon the jam into the centre. Bake on the baking sheet for 35-45 minutes until golden and springy. Leave to cool in the tin before unmoulding.

Serves 6-8.

Recipe from Sarah Raven's Garden Cookbook.

BRAMBLE JELLY

• 900g blackberries
• Granulated sugar (for exact quantity see recipe)
• Juice of 1 large lemon

1. Put the blackberries and 100ml of water into a pan and simmer until they are soft. Pour into a jelly bag suspended over a bowl or jug (I used a muslin lined sieve) and allow the juice to drip through overnight. Don't be tempted to squeeze the bag (no matter how impatient you are) or your jelly will lose it's beautiful clarity.
2. Measure the juice and weigh out 450g sugar for every 570ml of juice. Warm the sugar in an ovenproof bowl in a very low oven for half an hour. Put the juice into a large saucepan with the lemon juice and warmed sugar, and stir over a gentle heat until the sugar has dissolved. The pectin in the lemon is essential to get the jelly to set.
3. Bring to a rolling boil until setting point (or until a teaspoonful of jelly on a cold saucer wrinkles when pushed with your finger). Pour into warm, sterilised jars, cover and seal. Keeps for up to a year.

Makes around 5 jars depending on their size.

'TIS THE SEASON...

...for berries that is, blackberries to be a little more exact. Autumn is breathing crisply down our necks, that early morning chill that means it almost but just not quite time for stomping in leaves and being concussed by falling conkers along Kodak moment walks. Our summer is making one last ditch effort to save face and shine brightly through school windows on our children's shoulders. Despite the possibility of an indian summer, there is no stopping the swelling of these little beauties. The garden my apartment block is built in was originally part of the grounds of an older house and there are some huge old blackberry hedges that the little one and I have commandeered as our own because we can see them from our window and no one else can. So there. We checked the bushes today and at first glance all I could see were green and red ones but hiding behind the thorns were branches laden down with plump black fruit, with the highest branches mocking me with the juiciest looking berries. I seemed to be the only one who got the fruit into the basket, my helper hovering nearby with suspiciously stained fingers and mouth but with very little to show for it.

You don't need to live near idyllic country lanes to go blackberry picking, they grow prolifically in urban areas too though the lack of petrol fumes adds more to the Kodakness of your outing. If you know where to find blackberry bushes pick the plumpest, darkest coloured fruit that is not too squishy, they should come off easily in your hand. And bring an umbrella with a shepherds crook style handle to hook down those upper branches.

Blackberries hold their shape better than raspberries and strawberries once cooked, the big ones especially being unlikely to burst, making them perfect for tarts, cobblers and cakes. I make this raspberry cake regularly because it's so easy and earns me many a brownie point at school cake sales. The blackberries are a perfect substitute with cinnamon to spice it up a little. You can layer the blackberries in the middle and on the top of the cake batter, but I stuffed all mine in the middle because I wanted to sprinkle extra brown sugar and cinnamon on top to give a spiced crunchy layer to contrast with the tender cake and soft berries.   

This cake is adapted from this one on Chocolate and Zucchini

BLACKBERRY AND CINNAMON YOGHURT CAKE.

• 180g plain flour, sifted
• 30g ground almonds
• 1 tbsp baking powder
• 1/2 - 1 tsp cinnamon (depending on your preference)
• 200g brown sugar
• 240ml yoghurt (I used vanilla)
• 3 eggs
• 65ml oil
• 300g blackberries

1. Preheat the oven to 180 C. Butter and flour a 9 inch spring-form tin.
2. In a large mixing bowl, combine the yoghurt, oil and sugar with a wooden spoon. Add the eggs one at a time, stirring after each addition. In a medium bowl combine the flour, almonds, baking powder and cinnamon. Add the flour mixture to the batter in three stages and stir just until combined. Do not overmix.
3. Pour half the batter into the cake tin cover with the blackberries and dollop the rest of the batter on top. Alternatively you can put half the blackberries in the centre of the cake and the rest on top.Bake in the oven for 50-60 minutes until the top is springy and a cake tester comes out clean. If it looks like the top is browning too quickly, cover with foil for the rest of the baking time. Leave to rest in the tin, on a wire rack, for 10 minutes before unmoulding. Leave to cool completely or eat it warm with whipped cream or vanilla ice-cream melting into a puddle.

Should serve 8 (ha-ha).

BLONDE BOMBSHELL

I'm going to have to be swift with my posts for the next while, I've taken a few days off and my little one will not accept any time being spent in front of the computer, but I wanted to get this recipe up because it's Browniebabe time again, and I've been saving these for this very moment.

This is my third Browniebabe entry and I'm still not a babelicious enough. So, as I've tried two  brunettes already, I think it's time to go blond. Peroxide, straight-from-the-bottle blond. Adapted from a recipe in How to be a Domestic Goddess I replaced macadamia nuts with, would you believe it, pistachio's and added some orange zest and ground cardamom seeds to make a sweet and delicately fragranced blondie. They turn a beautiful shade of gold in the oven, remaining fudgy and studded with slivers of jade nuts. The combination of orange and cardamom is one that has proven intoxicating for centuries and if you have orange flower-water use it, it will give an extra measure of potency that will have you (and anyone else you allow within devouring distance of these) coming back for more.

Bronzed, bejewelled and perfumed, they sound like the perfect blond to me.

ORANGE, CARDAMOM & PISTACHIO BLONDIES

• 125g unsalted butter
• 250g white chocolate
• 4 large eggs
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 350g caster sugar
• zest of 1 orange
• 1 level tsp cardamom seeds ground (you may need 2-3 tsp cardamom pods to get this amount of seeds)
• few drops of orange flower water (optional)
• 300g plain flour
• 200g pistachio nuts

1. Preheat the oven to 170 C and butter a 25 x 20 x 5cm tin. Melt the butter and chocolate either in a microwave or a double boiler, and set aside to cool slightly. In a large bowl, beat the eggs with the salt until light and beginning to increase in volume, then add the sugar, orange zest, orange flower-water (if using) and ground cardamom, and continue beating until really thick and creamy.
2. Beat in the the slightly cooled chocolate mixture with a large spatula and thn add the flour and nuts, folding in gently. Pour into the prepared tin and bake for 35 minutes or until golden and set on top but with a wobble in the centre. Let cool completely in the tin and then cut to whatever size you see fit, though be warned they are sweet, even for me!

Makes up to 16 blondies.

WARM AND FUZZY

Can I tempt you to try something a little fruity this weekend? These softly blushing beauties, above, are my latest crush and as apricots are smack bang in season I've been gorging myself until I'm fit to burst (there is now a constant supply of compote in my fridge). A good thing then, that they, themselves are bursting with vitamin A, vitamin C and fibre ( just to ensure that I don't, actually, explode). I was a novice until last week, having only tasted the tinned variety. When I saw them cropping up in the shops I took home a big basket along with a couple of my favourite food magazines. All these magazines lean towards seasonal cooking and usually focus on a few different fruits and vegetables each month, giving tips on how to choose good quality, ripe examples. Gregg Wallace, of Masterchef fame, writes for Good Food Magazine and covers stone fruits in the August issue. His advice on apricots - "Don't buy an apricot that's not soft. Make sure it's got full colour, definitely don't buy anything pale, and don't go near anything that's got a trace of green on it." Now he tells me.

My first adventure in apricots being brought to a crashing halt by hard, unripe fruit that shows no sign of ever softening, the next time I chose there was much sniffing and poking and peering at the lurkers in the bottom of the basket to make sure there were no little green-eyed monsters. Unfortunately, without actually biting into them there is no way of guaranteeing juicy fruits over cotton-wool balls. French varieties available in July seem to be the most reliable for both flavour and juiciness, their cheeks naturally pink, rather than genetically rouged. Apricots have a tartness that is well tempered by a spell in the oven soaked in hot sugar. This, then, was the only recipe I could choose.

The cake is still warm from the oven, and still warm in my belly. Caramel and I have an on-again, off-again relationship, wavering between golden runniness and blackened pans and scorched fingers. Somehow, I can never approach it with the confidence needed to stop it getting the better of me. I'm counting this one as a success, the caramel didn't dribble out as I expected it to, it seemed to soak into the cake instead. So, no reason for complaining that I can see (or taste). The cake batter itself is a simple one, tinted palest jade green and fragranced with saffron, producing a moist, dense cake. I replaced ground almonds in the recipe with pistachios, but if you were to use the almonds the cake would take on the saffron's sunny yellowness. Don't worry if the mixture curdles halfway through, it will all come together again with the addition of the flours and ground nuts.

The recipe suggested leaving this to cool (not a chance) and serving with a dollop of creme fraiche (absolutely).

This recipe is adapted from Good Food Magazine.

STICKY APRICOT & PISTACHIO UPSIDE-DOWN CAKE

• 85g caster sugar
• about 6 apricots, halved

For the cake batter:

• 200g butter, softened
• 175g caster sugar
• 2 large eggs
• 75ml full-fat milk
• pinch of saffron strands, soaked in a little warm water (optional)
• a few drops of almond extra
• pinch of salt
• 140g plain flour
• 140g self-raising flour
• 100g pistachio nuts, ground (original recipe called for ground almonds so use these if you prefer)

1. Tip the sugar into a deep, oven-proof frying pan (mine was 8 inches across and I had some apricots and batter left over, so I'd say a 9 inch pan would be perfect). Place the pan over a high heat until caramelised, remove from the heat, then lay the apricots, cut side down in the caramel, quartering some of the apricots to fit in the gaps. Set aside. Heat oven to 180 C.
2. To make the cake batter, beat the butter and sugar together, with an electric mixer, until pale and fluffy. Beat in the eggs one at a time, then the milk, almond extract and saffron, if using. Fold in the flours,salt and ground pistachios, then beat until just combined.
3. Spoon dollops of the batter over the apricots and smooth over with the back of the spoon. Bake for 40 minutes or until puffed up and golden and a skewer inserted into the cake layer comes out clean.
4. Remove from the oven and leave to sit for about 10 minutes. Loosen the edges slightly with a spatula or a knife and invert onto a serving plate and leave to cool (ha!) Cut into wedges and serve with creme fraiche or ice-cream.

Serves 8 (double ha!)

HERE WE GO GATHERING NUTS IN.... JULY?

I know it doesn't have quite the same ring to it but when life hands you a 1kg bag of pistachio nuts it's a chance to do some serious baking, something I've been slacking off at recently, shame on my baking soul. I'm sure I'll find a way of squeezing them into as many recipes as possible and I'll just keep going until I go nuts, or run out of nuts, whichever comes first. If you have any ideas on how I can spend my pistachio bounty please let me know.

These little cakes are so unapologetically dainty that I feel I owe you a profound apology. Just a bare mouthful each, the moulds I baked them in leave a little hollow in the top just perfect for a little pool of honey. Described as friands in the magazine I found the recipe in, but I'm not sure they really qualify. As I understand it friands are not just an oval muffin, but traditionally made with ground almonds, icing sugar and egg whites. Now of course pistachios would make an excellent substitute for the almonds (and I intend to try) but this recipe uses whole eggs, yoghurt and caster sugar. I've decided to dub them baby-cakes.

The honey I used was an almost crystal clear acacia honey that came with it's own little honey dipper. I think a stronger honey would almost work better, as the flavour was so subtle it nearly disappeared (all the more reason to keep drizzling it on top) but, both cakes and honey were such a hit with my little one I'll keep going until the jar is empty. Which shouldn't take too long as every time I turned around that little face got stickier and the pile of baby-cakes ever smaller. 

I also made some mommy sized cakes as the, I must confess a complete pain to fill, mini-moulds only held a a couple of tablespoons of batter. Don't expect the baby cakes to take on as much colour as the mommy cake, they scarcely spend a few deep breaths in the oven, both of them however taste just right.

HONEY, PISTACHIO AND YOGHURT CAKES

• 115g butter
• 130g caster sugar
• 2 large eggs
• 250g vanilla yoghurt
• 2 tbls runny honey (choose your own favourite)
• 60g pistachio nuts, ground
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 280g self-raising flour
• 1/2 tsp bicarb of soda
• 1 1/2 tsp baking powder
• grated zest of half an orange (optional)
• few drops of almond extract
• Icing sugar and extra pistachio nuts to finish

1. Preheat the oven to 180 C.
2. Combine the butter and sugar in a bowl until light and fluffy.
3. Add the eggs, yoghurt, honey, ground pistachio's, orange zest and vanilla extract. Continue beating. Add the flour, baking soda and baking powder. Beat until well combined.
4. Grease the moulds (muffin or friand) if using silicone there is no need to grease. Spoon the batter into each hole. Bake in the oven for 20-25 minutes, or until an inserted skewer comes out clean.
5. Serve with ice-cream, or as an indulgent breakfast as I did with vanilla yoghurt and an apricot compote the recipe for which you can find here.

Makes 24 depending on size of your moulds.