In the late 15th century, Queen Isabella of Spain bragged that she had only bathed twice in her entire life. Based on this, my grandmother used to refer to anything beige or pale brown as ‘Isabella-coloured’, in reference to the unwashed Queen.
I cannot make these Cappuccino panna cottas without thinking about this description, or my grandmother herself, as it was she that gave me my very first taste of coffee. I almost always drink my coffee black, but occasionally a creamy cappuccino is hard to beat.
Coffee is a natural flavour for a panna cotta, as it pairs so well with cream, and the bitter espresso caramel which is drizzled over the top is a deliciously sweet, bitter and smokey addition (and very easy to make).
The Panna Cotta
(makes 4 larger, 6 smaller darioles)
Warm the espresso in a small sauce pan with the milk and sugar, bringing just to a simmer to dissolve the sugar.
Slake the gelatine in cold water for a couple of minutes until completely soft.
Dissolve the gelatine in the still-hot coffee mixture, whisking well to dissolve it.
Add the cream and whisk well. Decant into darioles (or espresso cups for extra kitsch-ness) and leave for at least 4 hours to set.
150ml espresso
100ml milk
200ml cream
50g demerara sugar
2 leaves of gelatine – 4g
For the Caramel
(you can make this well in advance and store it for a few days).
In a small saucepan bring the sugar and water to the boil, swirling occasionally to help the sugar dissolve.
Cook over a high heat, keeping an eye on it and swirling occasionally until the syrup has turned to a caramel colour, beginning to smell of caramel.
Turn the heat down to low, pour in the coffee and whisk well (it will bubble up lots at this point).
Whisk gently until the syrup is completely smooth.
Leave to cool, then use as required.
40ml water
80g sugar
40ml espresso
Pinch of salt
You only need a small drizzle over each panna cotta, but it is also good with vanilla ice cream, or on ricotta pancakes even. This panna cotta is especially good with some extra double cream, and then the coffee syrup over the top, for gentle overkill.
Granmummy Valery
Born, 1929, UK
Grandchildren
John, Eddie, Nick, James, Joy, Ben, Christopher, Letitia & William
My grandmother was a terrifying force in the kitchen. She was a mountain of a woman with a blossom-print blouse, a quivering bosom and beady eyes behind enormous magnifying spectacles. Chaotic, furious, frustrated and fiery, she was no serene domestic goddess. But she had what the Italians call 'mani d'oro',or hands of gold. Everything she touched turned into something magical, even if there was plenty of hair-tearing and bosom-beating along the way.
She just understood food, understood flavour, understood how to get the best out of something scraggy, small or lean. She grew carrots and new potatoes in a tiny pot when she no longer had a garden, and would dig them up when still tiny and sweet and flavourful and we'd eat just one or two. She put butter or cream in almost everything, a proud product of her generation and a lifelong devotee of Curry powder, Prawn Mousse, Patum Peperium, Philadelphia, Porridge with cream and golden syrup, Hellman's Mayonnaise, Curly-leaf Parsley, Hobnobs, Ginger Biscuits and scrambled eggs.
She was never a warm woman, but she showed her love in food. It was also her that got me into coffee, so I have chosen this recipe in her honour.
About Letitia
Letitia Clark is a food writer, artist and chef. She is the author of two brilliant cookbooks about Italian food, Bitter Honey & La Vita è Dolce (can’t wait to get my hands on this newest instalment).
She currently lives and works in Sardinia where she hopes to set up her own agriturismo and live la bella vita. Letitia often posts sweet treats inspired by her granny on her instagram, so naturally, I asked if she might want to be the first in a series of granny dedications from my friends in the food world.