Green Gazpacho

First - I have a new lens for my camera, so if pictures are a little wonky, please bear with me as I learn the differences between it and what I was using before. Thank you.

Second - this is the best hot-weather supper I've made in ages. I couldn't figure out what it might taste like from reading the recipe, but it's amazing. I made a few adjustments to the recipe to tailor it to what I had on hand, but not that many. Give it a shot - it comes together in practically no time at all. And if you omit the croutons, there isn't a whole lot going on that might heat up the kitchen.

Third - the recipe says it serves six. That might be more like serves six to eight. This made a LOT. And that was without the ice in it, which would have boosted the volume further still...

Yotam advises that a standing blender is the best way to prepare this gazpacho, but I imagine that would take many batches. I used my 12-cup food processor and still found I had to pour some of it into a bowl, prepare the rest and combine it all at the end. Not a hardship, but I imagine that might get a little tedious in a smaller standing blender... An immersion blender might do the trick, but as I have never really used one myself, I couldn't say that with any confidence. If anyone does try it with an immersion blender, can you please let me know how it goes?

This soup is loosely based on tarator, a cold yogurt and cucumber soup from the Balkans, according to the introductory text in the cookbook. A green gazpacho is a new concept for me, as most of the gazpacho recipes I have read prior to this feature tomatoes rather heavily. I really enjoyed the vibrant colour of this soup as well as the layers of flavour. And given that it's comprised mostly of green growing things, it tastes incredibly fresh. I think I am in love.

As usual, the recipe is directly from the book and the written description includes my alterations and observations.

Green Gazpacho
(p. 180, Plenty)

Serves six (or more)

Croutons
2 thick slices sourdough bread
4 tbsp olive oil
salt

Soup
2 celery stalks, including leaves
2 small green bell peppers, seeded
6 mini cucumbers (1 1/4 lbs), peeled
3 slices stale white bread, crusts removed
1 fresh green chile (or less if you don't want it too hot)
4 garlic cloves
1 tsp sugar
1 1/2 cup walnuts, lightly toasted
6 cups baby spinach
1 cup basil leaves
2 tbsp chopped parsley
4 tbsp sherry vinegar
1 cup olive oil
3 tbsp Greek yogurt
about 2 cups water
9 oz ice cubes
2 tsp salt
white pepper

To make the croutons, preheat the oven to 375F. Cut the bread into bite-sized cubes (Yotam advises 3/4") and then toss the pieces with the olive oil and some salt. Spread on a baking sheet and bake for roughly 10 minutes, or until the bread has crisped and turned golden. Remove from the oven and set aside to cool until needed.

To make the soup, begin by assembling and prepping your vegetables.

The first of my substitutions came here - I used large garden cucumbers rather than the mini ones due to cost, used one very large green pepper rather than two small, and added an extra stick of celery because my two were looking a little scant. Roughly chop all of the vegetables and place them into your blending option. I am going to say food processor going forward, as that was what I used. This amount of vegetables was already a substantial volume in the processor, so I went ahead and pureed what was there to give me more room to pile in additional ingredients. The results looked like this:

To that puree, add the bread, chile, and garlic. You can retain the chile seeds if you'd like it a bit hotter, or add additional chile to taste. I didn't have any white bread in the house (I rarely do) so I crumbled up and used the last chestnut scone in place of the bread slices instead, figuring with the nuts in the soup, the flavour of the scone wouldn't be a problem. It wasn't. You could probably get away without including any of the bread called for if you wanted to. Then I added the spinach, basil, vinegar, and oil. I omitted the parsley because I was out. Then I had to blend again as I was running out of room in the processor. To the results of the second blending I added the nuts, substituting the pecans I had on hand for the walnuts.

I blended everything together into a smooth puree, and then poured roughly half into the bowl I intended to use for serving as I was out of room in the processor with a few ingredients yet to add. I knew I was out of room because there was green juice sneaking out of the connection for the lid. It looked like the Hulk was bleeding on my counter.

To what remained in the food processor I added the Greek yogurt, water, salt, and the white pepper. At this point I thought I was going to include the ice, but then realized I didn't have enough in the freezer to chill both the drinks and the soup, and opted to reserve it for the drinks as I could settle the soup into the fridge for a decent stretch of time before my company arrived. So I combined the two portions of puree and stirred them together well before putting the bowl in the fridge.

If you like your soup thick, I advise leaving out the ice cubes. I made it this way and it had a lovely texture and body. If you prefer your soups a little thinner, add some or all of the ice, or additional water until you achieve your desired consistency. Taste the soup and adjust the seasoning if necessary.

Serve immediately and very cold.

We crumbled a bit of feta and a few of the croutons into the soup as a garnish and enjoyed it immensely.

I was really happy with the meal tonight: gazpacho and a strata I had made earlier served for the main course, and we had homemade coconut lemongrass sorbetto for dessert and Pimm's lemonade as our beverage. I wasn't sure all of the flavours would work together, but they did. An excellent meal shared with people I am quite fond of resulted in good conversation and the passing of a pleasant evening. It was exactly what I wanted today and I like it when things work out that way.

Chestnut Scones

One of the purchases I made while I was at home was a bag of chestnut flour. I'd been looking for it haphazardly for the last year, ever since reading this recipe in Dorie Greenspan's Baking and finally found it at the Italian Centre Shop. I might be the only person I know who dances a jig in the middle of a shop aisle upon finding flour, but I'd be happy to be proven to be in good company. 

These scones have a slight sweetness and their flavour is subtle, but really lovely. I was expecting them to be more exotic than they turned out to be, but that was just fine. It's a great recipe as is and I think there's room for tinkering. I want to make another batch and add some of the bergamot extract to it, as I think it could be delicious.

Chestnut Scones

(p. 34, Baking)

Makes 12 

1 large egg

3/4 cup cold heavy cream

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour

3/4 cup chestnut flour

2 tablespoons sugar

1 tablespoon baking powder

1/4 teaspoon salt

8 tablespoons (1 stick or half a cup) unsalted butter, cut into small pieces and chilled

To begin, centre a rack in your oven and preheat it to 400F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or a silicone mat if you are lucky enough to have one. 

In a small bowl or measuring cup, stir together the egg, cream, and vanilla. I ended up using vanilla soy milk instead of the cream, which wasn't a problem. 

In a larger bowl or the basin of a large food processor, measure out the flour, chestnut flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt. Whisk or pulse to combine the dry ingredients thoroughly. Add the chilled butter pieces and blend the butter into the dry ingredients until the mixture is pebbly. You should have some larger flakes of butter and some smaller pieces - the variation is a good thing here. If you are working with a food processor, take care not to over-process so that everything is evenly dispersed. 

Add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients and mix to combine. This dough will be wet and sticky. Don't over mix it or the scones might be tough. I found it easier to remove the flour/butter mixture from my food processor and do the wet/dry mixing in a bowl on the counter. Still in the bowl, knead the dough gently by hand 8 to 10 times until if forms a smooth mass. 

To shape the scones you have a few options. Dorie recommends turning the dough out onto a lightly floured counter, dividing it in half, and shaping each half into a disk roughly five inches in diameter. Each disk can be cut into six wedges. Alternatively. I portioned the scones straight out of the bowl with my fingers, which resulted in a more rustic drop-scone look that I happen to be partial to. The scones can be frozen at this point by placing them on a baking sheet, putting that sheet in the freezer and then wrapping them with plastic wrap once they are fully frozen. They don't have to be defrosted before baking, just add about 2 minutes to the total baking time. 

To bake the scones, place them in the oven for 20-22 minutes, or until their tops are golden and firm to the touch. They are best if cooled on a rack for 10 minutes before serving, or at room temperature. 

My new camera lens gets here today, so here's hoping I can provide some better food photos with its assistance. ^_^

Watermelon and Feta

I have just come back from a great visit to my home city, refreshed and laden down with ingredients for cooking and baking that I have yet to find in Regina. I probably spent a little more than I should have, but who could turn down bergamot and pistachio extracts? Or a dark fuchia-purple opaque vinegar that has been infused with cassis? Or the five colour orgoglio pasta that looks like bits of cubist paintings shredded and rolled into tiny tubes? Or the Polish fruit teas that smell like summer in a bag? Not me.

Having these new things to play with has revived my cooking brain a bit, which was feeling a little burnt out and bored prior to the trip. I can now make the chestnut scones I'd read about in Dorie Greenspan's Baking. I can try a new variation on pistachio gelato. I can muck about with the bergamot extract and see what happens. It's exciting and I needed this sense of play back. I also needed the heat to not be hovering around 40C with the humidity and it has obliged. It's still warm here, but not so prohibitively warm that I feel like I can't cook, although I might save my baking for the late evening just the same. I've also just finished reading Blood, Bones & Butter, which is an amazing memoir full of wry and gritty humour and descriptions of food and places that practically glow in the mind. It has stoked and sated my wanderlust in equal measures and tempted me back to the kitchen to make good, simple food.

Before I left to go home, the heat here was intense. Part of the problem with that kind of heat is that I don't feel much like eating and far less like cooking. I can sit and research the entire day if I have iced teas to sip on, but negotiating solid food decisions becomes difficult. I had splurged on an abundance of produce at the beginning of the month (yay scholarship disbursements!) and was mostly eating things  plain and raw. Along with the Rainier cherries, apricots, cucumbers, and tomatoes I had purchased was a small watermelon. This watermelon became dinner one night when it was too hot to even think. Initially I prepared half the watermelon because I wasn't that hungry, but the flavours wowed me so much that I went back for the other half and polished it off, too. This is my new favourite way to eat watermelon and I was so surprised by it that I texted a few friends that night extolling its virtues. You will want to try this, promise.

You don't have to stick to the proportions of the recipe if you don't feel like it - adapt it to whatever suits you. I didn't use the full measure of feta, and I added a bit of fresh, course ground black pepper to the second batch. I also omitted the olive oil and the onion the second time around, although fruit infused olive oils could probably be a lot of fun here. The basil is a surprising and delicious addition - give it a shot, even if you have your doubts about it.

Watermelon and Feta
(p. 282, Plenty)

Serves 4 (if you feel like sharing)

10 oz feta
4 1/2 cups large chunks of watermelon
3/4 cup basil leaves (loosely to moderately packed)
1/2 small red onion, very thinly sliced (optional)
olive oil

Slice the feta into thin pieces or break it by hand into smallish chunks. Arrange everything except the oil on a serving platter or in a shallow bowl and gently mix them together a bit. Drizzle with the olive oil and serve immediately.

The Pricey Pesto

I am publishing this post mostly as an excuse to laugh at myself. Today, I let my inner magpie - that brainless, flighty, impulsive bit of myself that goes off on tangents that start "Ooh! Shiny!" and typically end in some kind of bemused contemplation or regret - buy a total of $64 worth of basil. How? My particular blend of mathematical ignorance combined with my desire to cook amazing things for other people and resulted in hilarity.

I was wandering the Farmer's Market this morning with my friends Bianca and Dale, admiring and getting excited about all of the produce that is starting to come available here now that we are a few months past melting. There were lots of lovely new additions to tables - colourful golden and burgundy beets, crisp lettuces and other leaves, freshly picked shelling peas, new potatoes, all kinds of squash... Among the new additions were bundles of dill and other herbs on display at many of the stands. As we walked past one particular stand I noticed a couple of very large pots on the ground beside a table and observed that they were full of lovely, full bushes of basil, one of the few fresh herbs I use a lot of that I hadn't managed to grow myself so far this summer. I asked the gent tending the stall how much the plants were, and he said "Well, they've been growing for quite a while, so probably $35 each." I nodded and decided I didn't need one that badly, or at least not that one, as I had heard of smaller plants available at a supermarket for quite a bit less. He then piped up and said that he was selling his loose basil for a dollar a gram. Somehow in my head that seemed like a reasonable price, and I remembered that I had promised Amie (well, promised is the wrong word really, it was more like ceding to her demands ^_~ ) that I would make the pesto buns I had made for a previous gathering again for our next one which is coming up quite soon. I knew I needed 1.5 ounces of basil (about 2 cups loosely packed) to make the pesto for the buns. So not being smart enough to pull out my phone and check the conversion from ounces to grams, I told the gent that I needed the 1.5 ounces and he nodded and set to work snipping bright green leaves from the bushes and piling them into the bowl on his scale. In the end he gave me 1.9 ounces of basil, estimating a 0.4 ounce loss once I had removed all of the stems. Converting that to grams resulted in 56 (if I am remembering all of the numbers correctly, and I think I am)... which meant I now owed him $56.

Talk about sticker shock.

My first reaction was to refuse as I certainly hadn't been expecting that kind of pay out - and to top it off, I didn't even have cash on me and had been planning on paying back my friends for the purchase once I made it to a bank. Apparently I looked shocked, because the gent was suddenly watching me fairly closely. More thinking out loud than trying to be annoying I said "I certainly wasn't planning on spending $56 to make these buns", to which he nodded. I knew I was going to go through with the purchase regardless, because it was my own fault that I hadn't done more to ascertain the outcome myself and it seemed unfair to leave the picked leaves behind to wilt and therefore penalize him for my shortsightedness. As I stood there and thought for a moment, he leaned over the table and with a very conspiratorial look said "I'll give it to you for $40." Still a lot of money, but slightly lower on the scale of wow. I accepted, borrowed the money to pay for it and then left my friends sitting at a sunny bench while I ran to the bank. From that point on, we got up to some other shenanigans, which included a brief sojourn to a supermarket to track down the smaller basil plants I had not purchased earlier  - two of them for $8. It's a slightly different variety, but hey, it works. I am pretty sure there are people buying similar quantities of weed for less money than I paid for the first bundle of basil, though...

It so happens that I am reading about the development of the modern economy for my research right now, and my experiences today illustrated a point I'd been learning about quite eloquently - it's usually better to own the means of production than to be reliant on buying the results. If I had bought the $35 plant at the beginning of the exchange I'd have saved money, had more than the required amount of basil for the recipe, and probably ended up with a hardier plant specimen than my later supermarket offerings. Live and learn. Now that I've had time to let it settle in my brain, it makes me laugh and is a good example of how my impulsiveness and good intentions get me into minor trouble now and again.

And now a quick set of photos to celebrate the pricey pesto:

The recipe for the pesto and the buns themselves can be found here.

Also - I now have a rasp grater. That thing is awesome. 

Pesto Buns

I had every intention of taking a photo of these once they were done, and completely forgot in my haste to get out the door. However, I am posting the recipe because I promised I would. My apologies for the lack of visuals.

I am lucky enough to have a stand mixer with a dough hook which takes a lot of the work out of making yeast breads - convenient given how gimpy my hands can be. If you don't have a stand mixer, don't worry - this recipe comes together quite beautifully by hand as well, it just takes a bit longer.

These buns turn out very green if you make the pesto yourself - quite striking visually, and very fragrant. You can use a store-bought pesto if you are strapped for time or not inclined toward pesto-making, but I'd encourage you to give it a shot as making pesto from scratch is not hard and the flavour is fantastic. If you are using store bought pesto (the Classico brand is pretty good), you'll use the full amount of the 8 oz jar for the bun recipe. I like using these as hamburger buns, which was why I made them - a group of us were thinking of a barbecue the other evening, but some slightly green, swirling clouds made us reconsider our options once we got to the picnic area. So instead of barbecuing, we withdrew indoors, nibbled these plain, and foraged for other options. I'll make them again for our next adventure.

(As an aside, these are *fantastic* cubed and used as the bread in a strata...)

Pesto Buns
(p. 80, The Art and Soul of Baking)

Makes 8-12 rolls, depending on how big you make them

Pesto
2 cups (1 1/2 oz) loosely packed fresh basil leaves
1/2 cup (2 oz) olive oil
1/4 cup (1 oz) freshly grated Parmesan cheese
4 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup pine nuts (or walnuts; traditional, but optional)

Dough
1 cup (8 oz) warm water (110F-115F)
I tablespoon active dry yeast, or 2 teaspoons instant yeast
3 1/4 cups (16 1/4 oz) bread flour or all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons salt

To make the pesto, place the basil, olive oil, Parmesan, garlic, and first measure of salt in the bowl of a food processor or blender and blend until a fine paste forms. You may not need all of the oil; I start with 1/4 cup in the processor and drizzle in more as it blends until I get a consistency I like.

In the bowl of the stand mixer, combine the yeast and the warm water. Using a hand whisk, whisk in 1/4 cup of the flour until well combined, and let that mixture stand undisturbed for ~10 minutes. The yeast should look foamy and be giving off that lovely yeasty smell. If you don't have bubbles after 10 minutes, your yeast is likely dead and you will have to start again with fresher yeast (store your yeast in the fridge between uses to help it last longer).

Add the pesto to the yeast mixture and hand whisk it in until fully blended together, and then add the remaining 3 cups of flour and 1 1/2 teaspoons of salt. Put the dough hook on the machine and set to low until the dough starts to come together in a mass, ~2-3 minutes. Make sure all of the dry flour has been absorbed by the mass, and then wrap a slightly damp tea towel around the top of the bowl and let the dough relax for 20 minutes.

Once the dough has rested, scrape down the sides of the bowl and knead on low speed for another 3-6 minutes, until everything is smooth and elastic. Turn dough out into a lightly oiled bowl and cover it tightly with plastic wrap (or the damp towel again) and let it rise until it looks like it has taken a deep breath and is roughly doubled in size, ~1 hour (more if the room is cold). If your baking space is cold, try placing the bowl in the oven with just the oven light on. That well help create a stable, slightly warm environment.

Once the dough has finished its first rise, turn it out of the bowl and onto a work surface. You can either lightly flour the work surface, or use a little bit of oil (not both, that just gets messy) to help you shape the dough with out it sticking to the counter. I find the little bit of oil works well with this recipe, but work with whatever makes you comfortable. Press down on the dough to expel some air, but don't knead it again or it will get too tough. If the dough does get tough while you are working it, put it back in the bowl and let it rest for another 10-15 minutes and it will relax again. Divide the dough into your desired number of buns (8 pieces makes fairly large hamburger buns (~5" across once baked), 12 pieces makes smaller buns (~3 1/2" across once baked)). To get the most equal measurements, you can use a kitchen scale (8 buns = 4 oz portions of dough), or you can eyeball the portioning. Shape each piece of dough into a smooth ball and place on a baking sheet ~3 inches apart.

Cover the buns loosely with plastic wrap or the damp tea towel again and let them rise a second time for 35 to 45 minutes. While they are rising, preheat your oven to 400F.

Bake the rolls for 15 to 18 minutes or until golden. If you are lucky enough to have an instant read thermometer for your baked goods, you are aiming for an internal temperature of 200F. Cool on a wire rack for a little bit and serve warm or at room temperature.

These freeze well, and will keep for a few days on the counter in a sealed tin (if they last that long).

Beet, Orange, and Black Olive Salad

This past weekend was an excellent weekend. In particular I enjoyed a potluck held by some friends on Friday, where I was introduced to their circle of people. Their people love food: we had fantastic  Turkish kabobs, a dizzying array of breads with cheeses, meats, olives, and pickles, to die for mashed potatoes, burgers, veggies, and awesome desserts, all while beef jerky smoked away on the deck outside making the air itself quite savoury. I contributed vanilla shortcakes with strawberries and whipped cream, and given that they were brought up in conversation again during a visit last night they seemed to go over well. I love cooking for people who enjoy eating.  ^_^

I've been wanting to make this salad for a while, as part of the preparation and flavour combinations in it reminded me of another salad I'd made and loved out of a Moroccan cookbook, using peeled orange segments, chopped dates and a bit of orange flower water. This salad from Plenty contains the peeled orange segments and orange flower water, and then adds a handful of burgundy ingredients: Treviso, beets, and red onion for a beautiful and unexpectedly tasty experience. Treviso, also called red chicory, can be hard to find and also a little bitter. Its flavour is a good counterpoint to the sweetness of the oranges and beets in the recipe, so I recommend trying it. However, if you can't find it or don't care for the flavour, you can probably get away with shredded red cabbage in its place. The brininess of the black olives is a lovely addition to the salad and I'd think you'd lose out if something salty weren't there in small measure, so if olives aren't your thing, try a little bit of feta or perhaps some capers.

When it comes to peeling the orange segments, I admit, that part is a little fussy. I don't mind doing it because I know from past experience it really adds to the tender texture of the salad, but I do find it easier to peel each segment by hand rather than cutting them with the knife the way Yotam illustrates. If you were pressed for time you could probably get away with using tinned mandarin slices as those are pre-peeled and just need to be drained, but they won't have the same flavour as the fresh oranges. I do recommend using fresh beets that you cook yourself though, as tinned beets don't have the same sweet and vaguely mineral flavour as the fresh ones. I found it created less humidity and tending for me to cook the beets in my slow cooker on high for a few hours rather than boiling them on the stove. If you choose to do that, just make sure they beets are submerged in the crock before you start cooking and you should be set. Yotam says that this salad serves two generously; however, I found it could comfortably serve four as a side dish, or three as a main salad entree if served with a little bread or something on the side. It seemed to make a lot.

As usual, the ingredients are as listed in the book and the written instructions include my observations and any alterations.

Beet, Orange, and Black Olive Salad
(p. 15, Plenty)

Serves 2 generously

5 small or 2 large beets
2 oranges
1 Treviso (red chicory)
1/2 small red onion, thinly sliced
3 tbsp chopped parsley
5 tbsp black olives, pitted and halved
3 tbsp grapeseed oil
1 tsp orange flower water
1 1/2 tbsp red wine vinegar
salt and black pepper

Place the beets in a pot, cover with water and bring to a boil. Cook for 1 to 2 hours, or until the beets are tender - a knife piercing them should go in smoothly and come out easily. If you choose to cook the beets in a crockpot rather than on the stove, make sure they are fully covered by water and set the crock pot on high. The beets should be done within an hour or two, the same as if you did it on the stove. Once the beets are tender, leave them to cool completely in the water they were cooked in. This can take several hours, so plan ahead for this stage. Once the beets are cool, take them out of the cooking water and peel them (this is a lot easier than peeling them before they are cooked).

To prepare the peeled beets, cut each beet in half, and then cut each half into wedges. Yotam recommends wedges with a 1-inch base. I chose to go smaller than that, aiming for pieces around 3/4-inch wide at the base because that felt closer to bite size and it meant each of my halves got divided into even quarters, which was simple.

When the beets are ready, put them into a fairly large mixing bowl and begin to prepare the oranges. Using a sharp knife, cut off the top and base of each orange, then cut down the sides of each orange following its contour. You want to remove the rind and the white pith but still leave as much of the orange flesh itself as possible.

Once the orange has had the skin removed, you can either break it up into segments and peel each segment by hand to remove the inner connective membranes, or you can use a small, sharp knife to slice between the membranes and remove each segment. It's best to do either of these methods over a small bowl or the bowl with the beets in it so that any orange juice squeezed out during this process can be added to the dressing. Once all of the orange segments have been peeled, add them and any juice to the bowl with the beets. Discard the peels and membrane.

Cut the Treviso vertically into 1-inch thick slices. Break each section up into individual leaves by hand and add them to the bowl with the beets and the oranges. Add the parsley (I missed this step), the onion, and the olives to the bowl as well. In a separate container measure out the oil, orange flower water, and red wine vinegar.

Pour the dressing over the salad and toss everything well to combine. Season with salt and pepper as required and toss again.

Serve and enjoy.

Fresh Mango Bread

This recipe is from Dorie Greenspan's "Baking: From My Home to Yours", which is one of my favourite baking books. Her tone is conversational, her instructions are clear and invite a lot of play with the recipes, and she advocates chocolate in many forms for breakfast. Really, what's not to love?

I made this loaf yesterday in an attempt to cheer myself up with after non-success that was the attempted roasted beet and balsamic bread from last Friday. I am happy to say, this loaf turned out beautifully. The chunks of mango seem to melt into the dough while everything bakes, leaving a subtle flavour and exceptional moistness. I may revisit the beet bread yet, just need to think through a few things... In the meantime, make this one. It's fantastic. Be sure to have your mango diced before you combine the dry and wet ingredients to get the best lift out of your baking powders.

Fresh Mango Bread
(p. 45)

Yields 1 loaf

3 large eggs
3/4 cup flavourless oil, such as canola or safflower
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup (packed) light brown sugar
2 cups diced mango (from 1 large, peeled and pitted mango)
3/4 cup moist, plump golden raisins
Grated zest of 1/2 lime

Centre a rack in the oven and preheat it to 350F. Butter and flour the inside of a loaf pan (8 1/2 - x - 4 1/2 is what Dorie has listed) and tap out the remaining flour. Put the pan on an insulated baking sheet or two regular baking sheets stacked on top of each other - this will help keep the bottom of the bread from over baking (I didn't find this to be an issue).

In a small bowl or large measuring cup, whisk the eggs and oil together.

In a large bowl, whisk together the dry ingredients except for the brown sugar. Once the dry ingredients have been well combined, rub the brown sugar between your palms into the bowl, breaking up any lumps, and then stir it in. Pour the wet ingredients over the dry and use a wooden spoon or spatula to combine them - the batter will be very thick and almost unwieldily - keep going, it will come together after a moment or so. Add the mango, raisins, and zest and stir to combine. The addition of the moisture from the mango will help loosen the batter considerably. Scrape everything into the prepared pan and smooth the top.

Bake for 1 1/2 hours, or until it is golden brown and a thin knife inserted into the centre of the loaf comes out clean. If the top of the loaf is browning too fast, cover it loosely with a piece of foil and continue the baking (I did have to do this). Once the baking is finished, transfer the loaf to a rack and let it cool for 5 minutes before unmolding the loaf from the pan. Let it cool right side up on a rack before slicing. Slicing it while it is hot will make it fall apart.

When it is cool, slice and serve. The bread is actually slightly better the next day as the fruit and spice flavours have had a chance to intensify a bit.