
Treacle Slice
Much as I adore a proper, old-fashioned treacle tart, when my need is greatest I’m less likely to have the energy and patience required for rolling out pastry neatly and all that goes with it. This is where this treacle slice comes in: you simply throw everything for the dough into a processor if you have one (and if you don’t, it’s still no trouble) then press it into a shallow oblong tin, pop it into the oven, and stir up the syrup, butter, breadcrumbs and egg while it bakes until ready to receive the sweet nubbly topping. For those unfamiliar with treacle tart, I should explain that it’s Golden Syrup that’s actually the key ingredient; if you can’t get hold of it where you are, I dare say you could use honey, but I urge you to seek the authentic ingredient, often known abroad just as Lyle’s. I have to be strict about using homemade breadcrumbs (see the intro to the Queen of Puddings, and I suggest you start with 200g of bread) and I find it more accurate to use American cup measures for this (you need 2 and a quarter cups) or fill a measuring jug up to the 550ml rather than weighing them. And yes, I know that’s a lot of breadcrumbs, but once they’ve soaked up the buttery, lemony syrup, what you get is a gorgeous chewiness, more fluffy than heavy. And if the topping is temple-achingly sweet, the base is plain to the point of dourness: that is exactly how a treacle tart should always be. This brings me to the clotted cream, my accompaniment of choice here: mad though it sounds, its lusciousness seems to temper the sweetness with cool efficiency. Still, those who’d prefer to eat this not as a cream-topped slice, but swathed with custard and spooned out of a bowl will not find any argument from me. And there is definitely a good case to be made for vanilla ice cream alongside, too. And please read the Additional Information section at the end of the recipe before proceeding.
Makes
Be the first to log a make
No makes logged yet — log yours using the button above.
You may also like

My Mother's Praised Chicken
Nigella Lawson
This may well be — indeed is — the smell, the taste, the dish that says "family" to me and my siblings, and brings our long-absent mother back to the kitchen and the table with us. This is not merely a recipe, but my family's culinary fingerprint. It's not quite poached, not quite braised, and so I've settle on "praised" - which feels exactly right, as for me both cooking and eating it feel like a devotional act. And please read the Additional Information section at the end of the recipe before proceeding.

My Grandmother's Ginger Jam Bread and Butter Pudding
Nigella Lawson · Nigella Bites
This is the wholesome, comforting version of a trad English (white) bread and butter pudding that my maternal grandmother always made. Use apricot jam or regular orange marmalade if ginger's not your thing.

Marmalade Pudding Cake
Nigella Lawson
Now, this is a beauty. I don't mean flash or fancy — rather the opposite; there is something austerely handsome about its appearance, and yet gorgeously warming about its taste. But then, this laid-back Sunday-lunch pudding is what kitchen food is all about. I'm happy to leave the picture-perfect plate-decoration dessert to the professional chef and patissier. When I want to eat one, I'll go to a restaurant. That way, everyone's happy. I don't want to be too prescriptive about this marmalade pudding cake — which has the surprisingly light texture of a steamed sponge — as it doesn't seem in the spirit of things. I love the bitter edge of a thick-shred, dark marmalade and so tend to go for a proper, glamorously auburn, tawny one here; if this is too full-on for you, choose a fine-shred marmalade, instead.
Lidgate's Cranberry and Orange Stuffing
Nigella Lawson
Ed's Victorious Turkey Hash
Nigella Lawson
Zaleti - Polenta Biscuits
Nigella Lawson