So.. I may have consumed around a bottle and a half of wine before attempting this weeks Bake Off Bake Along. In my defence, I was at my Grandmother’s house for a sort of pretend Christmas before my little sister sods of to Canada for two years. When my sister, my Mum and I arrived just after lunchtime, the second half of the family were so drunk that there was nothing to be done but get caught up ASAP. By the time I remembered I was supposed to be making a hand raised pie, I was in absolutely no fit state to be making a hand raised pie.
Given the circumstances, I feel that this had potential to go a lot worse. I mean, I have actually turned out something edible this week (a triumph, after last weeks abomination that I’m trying desperately to forget about), and it even looks half decent if captured from the right angle. I’m on the up, if we consider last week as a starting point. Regardless, this is once again a series of unfortunate events. My BOBA post is, for the second week in a row, a short list of things that did not go in my favour. I don’t have many process pictures because I was drunk and it was dark and I could see that what was happening before me was not really worth documenting, so once again you’ll have to make do with mostly my miserable monologue.
I’m unsure as to how much of a difference it made, but lard was nowhere to be found. In its place I used Stork, which is of course a completely different kind of fat all together and so probably did make a considerable difference. I found that when the pastry was made it felt oilier to the touch than I’m used to. I think I followed the measurements correctly, but its entirely possible that I didn’t, so I’ve no real way of discerning what it was that I did wrong at the first hurdle.
Anyway, despite its suspiciously greasy texture I wrapped it around some cling filmed jam jars and chilled it in the fridge. As you can see from the picture above, I lost one of the pie cases in the first blind bake. I didn’t sweat it, these things happen, casualties are a part of the game, we just have to move on.
I egg washed the one surviving pie on the inside after gently removing it from its jam jar mould and gave it another five minutes in the oven in the hope of sealing the case really tightly. It was at this point I noticed the weak spot, but ignored it in the hope that it might go away. I filled the pie with a mixture of potato, cream and stilton. I shoved the lid on, even attempted a little plait situation and then whacked it in the oven.
Of course, the bastard thing collapsed. Leaked stilton and cream blackened and stuck to the baking tray, leaning structure, pure disaster. Its did smell delicious, that was its one redeeming feature.
Additionally, despite its gorgeous golden brown exterior, it was woefully underbaked. So another solid failure in the pretend tent this week. I am going to try and make a pie again though, because this gave me a right hankering for one and I think I must be capable if I get the right ingredients in and do it at least slightly sober.