Beaver Tails with Maple Buttercream Icing

Sometime after my girlfriend moved in with me, we started introducing each other to things like our favourite movies, books, TV shows and YouTube channels. In the latter category, one of Courtney's favourites is Simply Nailogical - ostensibly a nail art channel which has more recently branched out into a nail varnish brand (Holo Taco) and a stream-of-consciousness/discussion podcast (SimplyPodLogical). This may seem like a strange subject to bring up on what is technically still a food blog (even though it's been without updates in over a year because I started using Instagram for the majority of my foodie output), but there's a connecton, honest.

Basically, one of the recent episodes of SimplyPodLogical was devoted to discussing some common Canadian stereotypes and, during the course of the conversation, Cristine and Ben mentioned a chain of pastry shops called 'BeaverTails'. They are purveyors of what is essentially a flatbread version of the classic fried doughnut, with a variety of toppings on offer, from classic cinnamon sugar to various types of icing, chocolate spreads, crushed biscuits, fruit, etc.

Naturally, I was hooked.

Since they don't have any UK branches (and, y'know, there's the Lockdown to consider anyway) I looked into recipes for making Beaver Tails myself, and realised it was something I could probably manage quite comfortably, despite the fact that I've done very little cooking from scratch in ages, and what little I have done used recipes from Gousto, where all the ingredients came supplied in the proper, premeasured quantities, and the instructions were given in clear, simple stages. I've not bothered writing those up here because it seemed a little rude (not to mention legally shaky) to recreate their recipes, and because it worked better to simply photograph and Instagram the results.

But Beaver Tails... They're precisely in line with the raison d'être for this blog, so I couldn't resist going the longform option... Not least because I can demonstrate how adaptable these fried delicacies can be.

Ingredients:

Maple Buttercream

• Room Temperature Butter, salted or unsalted - I used salted (225g)
• Icing Sugar (120g)
• Maple Syrup (120ml)
• Vanilla Extract (2 teaspoons)
• Salt (a pinch, only if using unsalted butter)

Preparation Time: 5-10 minutes

Beaver Tails

• Hot Tapwater (60ml)
• Sugar (50g)
• Yeast (7g)
• Milk (60ml)
• Butter (3 Tablespoons)
• Egg (1)
• Salt (1 Teaspoon)
• Plain Flour (335g)
• Oil for Frying
• Topping (cinnamon sugar being the usual recommendation)

Preparation Time: Approx 2 hours, including resting

Tools Required:

• Large Mixing Bowl (for the dough)
• Medium Mixing Bowl (for the icing)
• Small, Microwave-safe Bowl
• Stirring Implements, eg. spoon, spatula, whisk (some form of electric mixer is recommended for some parts!)
• Sharp Knife
• Rolling Pin
• Frying Pan or Saucepan (of sufficient size to accommodate at least one portion of the dough)
• Tongs (because you don't want to burn your fingers with hot oil!)

The Process:
Let's start by making the buttercream, because doing that after making the Beaver Tails could be problematic. Cube the butter and dump it into the medium-sized bowl, then add the icing sugar and start to stir. While I'd heartily recommend some sort of electric mixer (either a stand mixer or an electric whisk), it's best to start this process off manually, either with a spoon or spatula, because the icing sugar will be inclined to puff out all over the place under the influence of an electric mixer. Once the icing sugar is at least partially bound into the butter, it'll be safe to switch over to electric. Add in the Maple Syrup, the Vanilla and, if using unsalted butter, a pinch of salt. Personally, I found it perfectly acceptable to cut out the middle-man and simply use salted butter - the combination of icing sugar, Maple Syrup and Vanilla is easily sweet enough to take the edge off the saltiness of the butter, and vice versa. Keep mixing till everything is as smooth as possible, then set aside.

Note that this mixture will be inclined to separate over time, and may not even bind into a particularly smooth consistency in the first place. This is a common issue with adding liquids to buttercream, but we're aiming for an authetic Maple Syrup flavour, and genuine Maple Syrup is very much a liquid. As long as you're not seeing clumps of butter, it's probably good to go, and will just need a little extra stirring before it's applied to the Beaver Tails.

Making the dough for the Beaver Tails themselves is rather more complicated a process than I've encountered for bread and cakes, largely because I've normally only dealt with ready-made mixtures. I think the only other time I've used yeast anywhere on this blog was in my failed attempt at crafting home-made Cream Soda, but we seemed to have some more recently-purchased yeast in our cupboards.

Start by pouring the hot tapwater into the larger mixing bowl with a teaspoon of sugar (this can be taken from the measured 50g - that still leaves plenty for the remainder of the recipe), add the yeast, stir and set aside for a few minutes so it can proof. What you'll end up with is an off-putting, yeasty-smelling, frothy beige mess. Believe it or not, this is a good thing.

Add the butter, milk, and the remaining sugar to a small bowl and microwave (carefully!) to melt it all together. Stir it up and allow it to cool for a few minutes before adding to the yeast mixture in the large bowl - it needs to be hotter than room temperature, but if it's too hot it could ruin the yeast. Stir the two mixtures together, then crack in the egg, add the salt and whisk together. Start slowly adding in the flour, a little at a time, and keep stirring until a dough is formed. Knead this for a few minutes, adding flour as necessary. The end result should still be quite sticky, but very definitely a dough rather than a paste.

Cover the bowl - if it has a lid, so much the better, otherwise cling film will do the job - and leave it aside somewhere warm to allow the dough to rise. About an hour should be sufficient, but I had to make way for Courtney to take an online cookery class at this point, and only returned to my dough quite late in the afternoon, by which time it was very puffy and smelt strongly of yeast. Beat the dough back down to its original size, then divide into eighths - I rolled mine into a fat cylinder, as that seemed the easiest way to cut it into portions semi-accurately. Roll these out flat, to something in the region of half a centimetre in depth, then set aside for frying. Just for fun, I cut a grid pattern on one side of mine... Not sure why, but the idea had occurred to me, and I was curious to see how they'd end up after frying.

Fill your chosen frying pan or saucepan with cooking oil, just enough that the dough sections will be able to float, then put on what's described as "a medium heat". I gather from the recipes I found online that you'd be aiming for about 180°C/350°F, but it's a tricky thing to judge because hobs aren't marked that way, and they often have different sized burners available, each offering a different range of temperatures. For me, "a medium heat" usually seems to be the lowest setting on the mid-sized burner, but that isn't entirely consistent so your mileage may vary. I ended up tearing off a small chunk of the dough and using that to judge whether the oil was hot enough.

Place the dough pieces into the oil carefully to avoid spitting or splashing. Depending on the size of your chosen vessel, you may have to do them one at a time, or you may fit two or three. Fry each side till golden brown - depending on the vaguaries of the hob and the actual temperature of the oil, this may be anything between 30 seconds to a couple of minutes... though I suspect I may have overdone a couple of mine. Once done, pick them out of the oil (allowing the excess to drain off) and add the topping of your choice while they're still warm.

The Results:
To be honest, this went better than I'd expected, albeit perhaps not perfectly. For starters, I didn't get all my ingredients ready and set out before waking up the yeast, so that was left going rather longer than recommended in any recipes (maybe about 15-20 minutes, while I got everything else together?). I'm not sure if there's an ideal point in the proofing process, after which something can go wrong... but certainly nothing exploded. I actually started the yeast off in a tiny bowl of its own rather than in the large mixing bowl and, by the time I started bringing everything together for the dough, it looked as though it would have overflowed if I'd left it there much longer.

Still, the dough came together very well, but it did leave me coveting those mixers with dough hook options, because mixing what ends up as quite a tough, sticky dough was not fun with a standard spoon. I also had trouble with the dough's stickiness... Sure, it's described as "sticky" in recipes, but how sticky is that? Once I'd mixed in all the flour and started kneading, quite a bit of the dough stuck to my hands. I suspect I should have added a little more flour at that point, but didn't want to overdo it. This is probably something I'd know better if I made bread regularly (and from scratch). Nevertheless, it rose very well in its covered-over bowl... and ended up being left for several hours rather than the recommended "one hour or so". Whether or not this worked in my favour, I'm still not sure. Beating it down and dividing it up was easy enough, so I figure I can't have gone too far wrong. My only concern was that there was a very strong yeasty smell to what was supposed to be quite a sweet dough - or so I thought.

Frying went well, but I'm still pretty vague on hob temperature settings, particularly with large quantities of oil. Plus, the dough had a habit of developing pockets of air underneath, so some of the individual doughnut-things ended up with patches on the underside that looked undercooked. Still, they puffed up nicely, and I was pleased to find that my grid patterns looked pretty good after frying. I tried one 'bare' after letting it cool a little, and have to admit that the yeasty smell persisted after I tore it open. It was light and fluffy, though, so a coating of cinnamon sugar would probably have overpowered whatever yeastiness was left.

I was aiming slightly higher than mere cinnamon sugar, though... and my Maple Buttercream icing made for an excellent topping. However, I'd got a bit of a bee in my bonnet about the icing the day before I started making the dough. I first tried a small batch using a fraction of the necessary ingredients, and that turned out OK... But then I decided to make the full batch late in the evening, because I realised that my time in the kitchen would be interrupted by Courtney's cooking lesson, and I figured getting the icing done ahead of time would help. Storage presented a problem that I hadn't fully considered, though. I didn't want to leave it out overnight, so ended up stuffing it in the fridge. This naturally made it harder to dole out, even after stirring it thoroughly again to undo the separation that occurred, and it never quite became as smooth as one would normally expect of a buttercream icing.

I think I was a little hyperactive for a while after eating a completed Beaver Tail slathered with icing, so I didn't have a second. Later on came the sugar crash, which left me feeling a little unwell and headachy for part of the evening. The four Beaver Tails left after dinner were boxed up and stuck in the fridge, with the excess icing (because there was quite a lot!) scooped into a small plastic tub for storage in the freezer.

Not even the threat of another sugar crash was enough to deter me from having one of the remaining iced Beaver Tails for breakfast, and chilling them overnight certainly took the cloying edge off the icing, though the Beaver Tail itself had become a little dry and hard. They're definitely a dessert to be best enjoyed when fresh.

At Courtney's suggestion, I had another one - topped with three rashers of unsmoked bacon - for lunch, since the concept wasn't too far removed from some of the breakfast/brunch options I've seen available in American hotels. This, too, turned out to be delicious... and I'm not normally one to mix sweet and savoury on a single plate.

Mini Toad in the Hole

Considering how regularly I pig out on Iceland's £1 wonder, their 'Meal for One' Toad in the Hole, it's quite amazing that I've never tried to make it myself.

Let's face it, you just take a bunch of sausages, mix up some flour, egg and milk, then chuck it all together in a deep baking tray for about 25 minutes, and you're all set for a satisfying evening meal. The Iceland version - sausages frozen in batter in a foil tray, that literally just needs to be chucked into the oven - is my go-to product for something quick and filling after a hard day, when I can't be bothered to do anything requiring effort. I have noticed, however, that their sausages became substantially smaller some months ago. That's generally the point at which I'll start thinking "time to make my own!"

And it is ridiculously easy, according to any of the recipes you might find online. The batter is essentially the same as you'd use for Yorkshire Puddings and, believe it or not, pancakes. Proportions of ingredients may vary, but the principle is the same. Of course, being me, I wasn't about to put my toads in the plain and basic hole, so I chucked in some parsley and chopped onion - because both happened to be lying around - and then, for fun, wrapped some of my sausages in bacon.

You are aware, are you not, that it's been scientifically proven that bacon makes everything better?

And then, rather than make one large thing, I decided to make more use of my new muffin tray and make six small toads in holes.

So, here's how it goes:

Ingredients:

• 100g Plain Flour
• 1 Egg
• Approx 200-300ml Milk (depending how thick you want your batter, and how many/much you're intending to make)
• Chopped Parsley (I used Waitrose Cooks' Ingredients 'Organic A Generous Pinch of Flat Leaf Parsley')
• Salt & Pepper to taste
• Half a Small Onion, chopped
• Bacon of Choice (I used Waitrose Unsmoked Wiltshire Cure Back Bacon)
• Sausages of Choice (I used Richmond Skinless)
• Cooking Oil
• Dijon Mustard

Preparation Time: About 40 minutes total

Tools Required:

• Small Mixing Bowl
• Whisk
• Small, Sharp Kitchen Knife
• Muffin Tray

The Process:
While I said this was ridiculously easy - and it really is - the instructions I found online were rather deceptive... or just plain wrong. Or maybe my technique was wrong. Whatever it was, my first attempt at the batter was hopeless. The method is generally given as sifting the flour into a bowl, making a well in the middle, cracking an egg into the well, then beating it together and gradually adding the milk (occasionally a milk/water mixture).

The first time I followed these instructions, the end result was a lump of flour-encrusted egg which stuck to the whisk and didn't want to become part of the batter. While the remainder of the flour mixed in to the milk quite nicely, it left me with a very thin not-quite-batter with large clumps of useless gunk swimming around.

After a brief consultation with my mother on the subject of batter (in which I learned of the amazing multi-purpose nature of this batter, as mentioned above) I tried it again, this time whisking the egg a little before pouring it into the flour, and adding some milk before starting the beat it all together.

Another interesting point that came out in that conversation was about standing the batter. Some recipes recommend letting it stand, others say refrigerate, still others say there's absolutely no advantage to letting it stand... but here's the thing: for Yorkshire Puddings (and Toad in the Hole), you want the mixture to be fluffy and full of air, because that's how you get the right texture once it's cooked. For pancakes, however, bubbles in the mixture will make for holes in the pancakes, and standing will allow most of the air to escape. So now you know.

But anyway...

Once the batter was ready, I sprinkled in some of the parsley and ground in some pepper. Salt can be added as well, but I tend not to bother. The other embellishment I added was some chopped onion. I have a whole bunch of small onions stuck in my fridge, and am basically just trying not to waste them, so I'll stick them in almost anything I can think of. This recipe didn't have room for a whole onion, though, so half of a small one did end up going to waste.

Preheating the oven to 200C, I made a start on my sausages. Since I planned to make small, muffin-sized Toads in the Holes, my full-size sausages had to be cut in half. The bacon was likewise cut, so it could be easily wrapped around the sausages without too much excess but, just to keep it all together, a dab of Dijon mustard was applied to the sausage and the end of the bacon, acting as a sort of glue.

Being lazy, I ended up only doing two sausages this way. Since I only had four sausages anyway, I was going to be left with two Yorkshire Puds without any sausage, so I convinced myself there was a logical reason for this: 2 wrapped sausages, 2 plain and 2 holes without toads.

A small amount of cooking oil was poured into the bottom of each pit in the muffin tray, and the sausages placed within. They were cooked for about ten minutes before the batter was added in, then they were stuck back into the oven for another 25 minutes to cook thoroughly.

See? Easy.

Results:
Well, if there's one thing I know about Yorkshire Puddings and most Toad in the Hole, it's that they're made largely of empty space - they puff up with a small number of large bubbles, rather than fluffing up like a cake or a loaf of bread. These were no different. From the outside, they looked brilliant - though I may try a lower temperature next time. At first glance, I was honestly very pleasantly surprised.

Something else I know about Toad in the Hole is that the sausages actively interfere with the batter's ability to fluff up at all - frequently it peels away from the sausages entirely. That didn't happen as much as I was expecting with the plain sausages, but with the bacon-wrapped sausages, the batter barely rose. Not entirely sure of the mechanics of this, but I suspect either the fat or the salt (or both) were the cause of the problem, because the two onion-y Yorkshire Puds looked great.

Of course, the proof of even a Yorkshire Pudding is in the eating...

All three kinds were as full of air as I'd expect, but the plain sausage ones turned out the best over all - golden brown and reasonably fluffy. The two Yorkshire Puds, while similarly golden brown, seemed extremely undercooked on the insides, and yet were basically giant bubbles. The two with the bacon-wrapped sausages looked like a complete disaster, however. The batter had almost entirely retreated from the meat, and they weren't so much golden brown as slightly burnt.

The bacon cooked very well, but the sausages in both types didn't fare quite so well - they were fully cooked, just not to the degree that I'd normally do them and obviously not as burnt on the outsides.

Gotta say, though, all of 'em tasted great.

Mmmmm... Nom nom nom...

Baking Special - Halloween Surprise Cookies

OK, here's something a bit more interesting and challenging... Every so often, my boss bakes a round of what she calls 'Cardiac Cookies' (so called because the quantity of sugars involved in making them means they're liable to induce cardiac arrest if consumed to excess). Since starting this li'l ol' blog, I've been thinking about baking... I've got the makings of brownies, but in a box bought from a shop, so the next most interesting option was to attempt to bake my own Cardiac Cookies.

...Or my own version.

I considered what could be used in place of the Snickers chunks used in the original recipe, and ended up with After Eight mints... after all, how often do you get mint choc cookies? So... here we jolly well go...

Apologies for the use of American cup sizes for measurements... The recipe is technically American, but I shall endeavor to update with coherent UK measures once I have them figured out. Please note that these measures do not equate to a teacup... though I'd imagine that, as long as the proportions remain the same, you'd just end up with loads more cookie dough if you used teacups.

Ingredients

• 1 cup white sugar
• 1 cup brown sugar
• 1 cup softened butter
• 1/2 cup Golden Syrup
• 2 eggs
• 3 cups flour (preferably self-raising, or add a tablespoon each of baking powder and baking soda if using plain)
• 1 box After Eight mints

Preparation Time: About 20 minutes for the dough, then about 10-15 minutes per batch to bake

Tools Required:

• Large mixing bowl
• Measuring cups
• Bowl or jug for beating the eggs
• Fork or whisk for beating the eggs
• Spoon or somesuch stirring implement for mixing the dough (but see personal note below)
• Baking tray
• Foil
• Oven for baking cookies
• Rack for cooling cookies
• Microwave for softening butter (or patience, if waiting for it to happen naturally)

Process:
To begin with, soften the butter by chopping it up into manageable chunks, placing in the measuring cup, and sticking the whole thing in the microwave on the lowest setting for about 30 seconds. Mix together the two kinds of sugar, butter and golden syrup. Beat the eggs then add them to the bowl and mix thoroughly. Add in the flour and mix some more, until you're dealing with a sticky mass of sugary, cookie dough goodness. Due to the way I measured out my ingredients, I got this bit hopelessly wrong, and consequently had a very hard time mixing it all up. My bowl received three cups of self-raising flour first, followed by the sugars, butter and syrup. I may have given myself RSI trying to beat that stuff into submission so, once I'd added the eggs and mixed them in to a certain degree, I cast aside my spoon and got to mixing the old-fashioned way.

Meaning 'By Hand'.

Oh yes, I did.

This automatically makes my cookies sexier, not to mention more sensual and intimate... Or something. Certainly more personal than carrying on with the spoon and, frankly, more comfortable.

And, yes, I washed my damned hands. Several times, in fact. Messy work, making cookies, and I can get a little obsessive about keeping my hands clean when dealing with food.

Anyway, once the dough was ready, it was placed in the fridge for a while, just to give me a bit of a rest. Cooling the dough does make it easier to handle, also. It is very, very sticky, and will end up sticking to your hands better than the fillin' once it's warmed up. Theoretically, this fridge time was also when I should have made myself some dinner.

Ahem.

Once the dough is cooled, yank it back out of the fridge, and grab a heaped tablespoonful. Grab an After Eight mint, pretending it's nowhere near 8pm so you're not obliged to eat it, and wrap the dough around it. Try to ensure it's all even and nicely sealed. My first round of cookies used rather too much dough, and ended up swelling to virtually fill the baking tray. These things expand a hell of a lot in the oven, so be sparing. There should be sufficient dough should make about 20-30 cookies in total.

Lay out on foil on the baking tray (this makes extracting the baked cookies far easier) and bake in an oven pre-heated to 200C (350F) for 10-15 minutes (closer to the low end, if using a fan-assisted oven like mine). The cookies should be golden brown when done. Transfer the foil sheet to a rack, allow the cookies to cool for a couple of minutes, then remove them from the foil to allow them to cool more fully without going sweaty. As long as they're not overdone, they should remain reasonably soft.

Once the baking is complete, scoff any remaining After Eight mints. Go on, you deserve them.

The Results:
Y'know, I have to say I'm pretty happy with the way these turned out. As mentioned, the first batch turned out pretty massive... four of them almost becoming one megacookie... but, other than that, they were probably the most successful. Subsequent batches suffered slightly (none burnt, but they were more than 'golden' brown) through mistiming and leakages where the corners of the mints protruded from the dough. The original recipe suggests 12-18 minutes baking time, which must be for ovens that are not fan-assisted (or possibly the Snickers bar, and the addition of Peanut Butter, change the composition of the dough to the extent that it takes longer to bake), so I had to dial back the time for each batch. Even ten minutes turned out to be a bit too long once I'd got the correct amount of dough per cookie.

I must further confess that the later batches suffered from a loss of attention as my inherent laziness kicked in. Making up the cookies to be baked is a very fiddly process, made worse by the stickiness of the dough as it warms in the hand. Possibly rolling it out might have been a better idea, but I don't have a rolling pin, and I didn't have space to do the rolling anyway. I ended up washing my hands a lot.

I ended up with about 28, 8 of which were the oversized initial batch, and two of those were used for sampling purposes (the first one was pretty good... but I just needed to be sure, darn it!). The remaining six oversized cookies will be given to my sister tomorrow, and the 20 'normal' sized cookies will accompany me to the office. Not enough for a full house but, being Friday, I don't expect there to be a full house.