33 British recipes. Page 1 of 2. Compare ingredients and cooking times. Beef Wellington, Kedgeree (British Smoked Fish Spiced Rice Dish), Banoffee Pie.
The tenderloin is brushed with Dijon mustard, wrapped in finely chopped sauteed mushrooms and prosciutto, then wrapped again in puff pastry. The mushrooms cook until nothing pools in the pan, and they and the beef must be cold through before wrapping, or the pastry base turns soggy. It comes out when a thermometer pushed in from the side reads 63 degrees at the center of the meat, whatever the color of the crust.
Big flakes of smoked haddock and halved hard-boiled eggs show through rice tinted yellow with curry powder. Haddock is a cod relative, and the smoked fillets used here are the kind sold for cooking, so they need to be cooked through, not eaten straight from the pack.
The name is banana plus toffee. The toffee here is condensed milk stirred in a saucepan until deep amber, and although banoffee is usually called no-bake, this version gives the digestive biscuit base 10 minutes in the oven so it stays firm under that dense layer. Cut cold, a slice shows four clean layers: biscuit, toffee, banana and cream.
A tablespoon of condensed milk on top of the sugar gives this milk tea a dense, caramel-like sweetness. The tea bags steep off the heat for four minutes and are lifted out without squeezing; squeezed, they release a harshness the milk cannot cover. For iced milk tea, the pot is cooled and chilled before it ever meets the ice.
Smoked haddock warmed in milk with a bay leaf flavors the whole pot, and that infused milk becomes the base of this soup named after the village of Cullen in northeast Scotland. There is no salt in the ingredient list because smoked fish brings its own, and how much varies by product. Fully cooked potato, not cream or flour, thickens it.
Browned pork sausages sit on buttery mashed potatoes under an onion gravy, a fixture of British pub menus and home kitchens alike. The gravy's sweetness comes from onions cooked slowly over low heat until golden, without letting them burn, in the fat left from the sausages.
Split one by hand while it is still warm and a strong roasted sesame smell rises from the grey crumb. Black sesame powder is mixed into the flour, and the dough is brought together with cream and egg instead of milk, then pressed into a 2.5cm round without kneading.
Through the sides of a glass bowl you can see the bands: sponge cake, strawberries and blueberries, custard and cream. Soaked in sherry or juice, the sponge turns soft as pudding, and the custard and whipped cream above it meet in the same spoonful. Fruit that goes in without being patted dry thins the custard and blurs the lines between layers.
Mashed potato, shredded cabbage and slowly cooked onion are pressed into one wide cake and fried until the underside is deep golden and crisp, while the inside stays soft. Turning the cake before its edges have set will break it apart.
The lemon zest goes into the cream and egg rather than the flour, which carries its scent evenly through the whole dough. Leave the butter in pea-sized pieces as you rub it into the flour, and the baked scones crack crisply at the edges and crumble softly inside.
From Eton College in England, this dessert is named for what it looks like: a mess. Meringue broken by hand into big and small pieces is folded with strawberries and whipped cream just two or three times, and half the berries are crushed with lemon juice first so their red juice runs through the cream. Meringue left to sit goes soft, so it is served the moment it is mixed.
A rich beef filling below and soft mashed potato on top make the contrast in this British home bake. Tomato paste, Worcestershire sauce, and beef stock give the meat a deep savory base, while carrots and peas add sweetness and color. The fork ridges dragged across the potato brown in the oven and turn into crisp little edges.
The dough is meant to stay shaggy, with damp patches and visible flecks of butter, and that rough texture is what lets the baked scone split into tender layers. Plain yogurt brings moisture and a gentle tang, with vanilla layered over it.
Rice simmered slowly in milk swells and sheds its starch into the liquid, leaving a pudding somewhere between porridge and custard. Served warm, it is loose and spoonable; chilled overnight, it firms into something denser and closer to a set custard. Cinnamon goes on at the last moment so its aroma arrives before the first bite.
Fish and chips come down to timing: the potatoes are fried twice, the cod once, and the order lets both reach the table hot and crisp. Soaking the cut potatoes in cold water rinses off surface starch, and the first fry only cooks them through, ending before they take on deep color. Cold sparkling water in the batter, mixed only until a few small lumps remain, keeps the coating light rather than bready. Any surface moisture on the potatoes or fish makes the oil spit and leaves patchy crispness, so both are dried well first. The cod is done when the crust is golden and the flesh separates cleanly into flakes. Serve right away, before steam softens the crust.
Stale bread soaked in an egg, milk and cream custard turns into something close to a soft pudding, while the pieces poking out on top bake into a crisp golden crust. Cinnamon gives the whole dish a warm, spiced smell. It started as a thrifty way to use up old loaves in England and the American South, and it is still best served warm, with vanilla ice cream or a caramel sauce melting over the top.
Under a lid of forked mashed potato, chunks of white fish and peas sit in a creamy white sauce, with cheddar browning on the ridges. The fish only spends a few minutes in the sauce before baking, because it keeps cooking in the oven and breaks into flakes if heated too long beforehand. Adding the milk in several splashes, whisking each time, gives a lump-free sauce that just coats the back of a spoon. Potatoes mashed soft enough to spread but not runny will seal the filling right to the edges. A short rest out of the oven helps each spoonful hold fish and potato together.
Split warm by hand, these scones have a crisp golden top and a soft interior that crumbles rather than chews, ready for clotted cream and strawberry jam. Cold butter rubbed into the flour is what keeps them light; the more the dough is handled, the firmer the centers turn.
Lamb rather than beef sits under the mashed potato, and the filling is reduced with red wine, beef stock and Worcestershire until moist but no longer runny. A loose filling lets the mash sink, and the two layers blur together on the plate. The wine gets a minute or two of hard boiling first so its sharp alcohol edge is gone. Potatoes mashed while hot with butter and milk spread without dry lumps, and sealing them right to the edges of the dish keeps the sauce underneath as it bubbles in the oven. Fork ridges across the top give the heat raised peaks to brown.
Beef, potato, rutabaga (swede), and onion are sealed into the pastry raw, so the juices they release while baking stay inside and act as the gravy. Cutting everything to about 1 cm lets the raw filling cook through. The hand pie grew out of a portable meal for miners in Cornwall, England, and the thick crimped edge served as a handle.
Blistered crackling that shatters under the knife starts long before the oven. The skin is scored at 1 cm intervals, coarse salt is rubbed into the cuts, and the belly dries uncovered in the fridge for 8 hours. Any new droplets are wiped off just before roasting, so the skin enters the heat cold and dry. Oil and pepper are rubbed on the meat side only, leaving the dried skin untouched, and the belly sits on garlic and rosemary in the pan. A hot start blisters the skin, then a lower temperature renders the fat slowly. If the crackling still needs help, a brief, closely watched turn under the broiler finishes it, and the roast rests before slicing.
Cooked on a covered pan over low heat instead of in the oven, these flat yeast rounds develop a cornmeal crust on both faces and an open, irregular crumb inside. Toasting crisps the edges of those holes, and butter, jam, or a runny poached yolk sinks into the gaps. They are the usual base for Eggs Benedict and just as good split and buttered at breakfast.
Cut in half, a Scotch egg shows three layers: crisp breadcrumbs, salty sausage meat, and a soft yolk at the center. Dijon mustard worked into the sausage meat seasons the layer that wraps the egg. The egg goes into cold water right after boiling, since the yolk would otherwise keep cooking while the sausage still needs time in the oil. It works warm or cold, for brunch, a picnic, or a snack.
Molasses turns the dough deep brown and gives the sweetness a slightly bitter edge. With ground ginger and cinnamon worked in, it is cut into little figures, baked, and decorated with icing eyes and buttons once cool. The edges should be crisp and the middle faintly chewy, and kept airtight, the spice grows stronger over a day or two.