Pumpkin Pie.

My, oh, my – it’s Pumpkin Pie!

Thanksgiving might be a little while off yet, but, in a few select places, Pumpkin Pie is already on the scene.

One of these places is London’s Konditor & Cook, home to those extraordinary Brownies I raved about back in June. There, for less than £3 a slice, you can nab yourselves a taste of the American institution: a Pastry crust filled with soft-set Pumpkin Custard.

In the States, of course, you can buy Pumpkin Pie all over the place. In England, however, they are sadly few and far between.

Indeed, despite hearing its praises for yonks (mainly through the medium of imported U.S. TV shows), my first opportunity for a taste of Pumpkin Pie was only a couple of years ago – at an annual market in Oxford, no less.

Alas, it didn’t live up to the hype: the Pastry was stale, and the filling almost flavourless.

Still, convinced I’d got a dud, I tried it again the next time I saw it – while on holiday to the States last November.

I was sure this one would be so much better: not only was it American-made, but it had also come from Whole Foods, the rather upmarket chain that supplied those nice vegetarian Toaster Pastries.

But, once more, I was to be disappointed.

Again, the Pie wasn’t unpleasant – it just wasn’t at all that exciting.

I’d expected unusual flavours and textures; spices flitting across my palate; a taste that epitomised Autumn. Instead, it was fairly bland – nowhere near as delicious as the homemade Pumpkin and Chocolate Cheesecake that was served on the table beside it.

At that point, I started to think I might not be a Pumpkin Pie person – that no Pumpkin Pie could come close to the one I’d been imagining for the last ten years.

So when I heard that Konditor & Cook were selling them I was intrigued, but not sure I wanted to risk further disappointment.

After some deliberation, I decided that, if I came close to one of their shops, I would probably take a look but stick with the tried and tested: a Boston Brownie or a slice of Curly Whirly Cake.

Sorted, then – until the Man bought one in his lunch break and surprised me with it at home.

I wasn’t thrilled to see it, I admit. At first glance, I was hesitant: it didn’t look spectacular. In fact, it looked a lot like the Pie from Whole Foods.

As I leaned in closer I smelt Nutmeg – a promising sign, I thought – but was reluctant to let down my guard until it was safely in my mouth.

After one bite, I was a convert.

The Pastry was soft and buttery; the filling moist and beautifully spiced. The taste of Pumpkin was in there too – though slightly obscured by the Nutmeg.

More of the pulp was detectable in the texture, which was smooth and ever so slightly fibrous.

In short, it was how I’d imagined Pumpkin Pie ought to taste: like an Egg Custard Tart, only better. Not bland, but full and aromatic.

At last I could see what the fuss was about – I just got there via a couple of wrong ‘uns.

Of course, in hindsight, it was foolish of me to write off Pumpkin Pie after only two small samples – especially when one was stale and the other shop-bought.

As all respectable Pud-Hogs know, almost nothing tastes good stale. And even the finest Cream Teas are dull when they come from a supermarket shelf.

I should not have been surprised when, as usual, fresh and handmade came up trumps.

If, like me, you’re intrigued by the concept of Pumpkin Pie, be sure to learn from my mistakes: none of that staleness or mass-market nonsense.

Head for Konditor & Cook if you’re near one – you can even buy Pumpkin Cheesecake while you’re there. All I ask is you save me a slice as a finder’s fee…

You see, I think I’m a Pumpkin Cheesecake fan, but I’ve only ever had the one.

Two more and I’ll be certain.

The League of Extraordinary Brownies.

Clockwise from top left: the Fudgepacker, Curly Whirly and Boston

Feel free to try and prove me wrong, but as far as I’m concerned, the best brownies in London are currently those being made by Konditor & Cook. I’ve written about these guys before and was pretty impressed by what I tasted.

Only after my previous post was published did I get the chance to try one of their brownies.

My mind was blown.

These aren’t your average brownies, Ogglers. Hell no. These are your ticket to Pud-Hog Heaven.

Gooey, rich, extremely chocolatey – these are everything brownies should be. Better yet, there is more than one type to choose from. In fact, as far as I can tell, there are at least four: at Borough Market alone I saw Double Chocolate Chip, Boston, Curly Whirly and Fudgepacker (which comes with a salted caramel topping).

Question is, how are you supposed to pick just one?

On Saturday, as I gazed at the stall outside their shop, that’s precisely what I was asking myself. Thankfully they were doing a special offer: buy three slices for only five pounds. Excluding the Double Chocolate Chip on the grounds of it being a fairly run-of-the-mill variety (albeit done to perfection, no doubt), that left three different flavours to get savouring.

Money was paid. The goods were in the bag.

Now, this is where my Pud-Hogging duties kick in. To save you the ‘hardship’ of trying them all yourself, here’s the highly subjective lowdown on each one. Should you ever find yourself at a Konditor & Cook, unable to justify buying all three, you can use this handy blog post as your guide.

Your waistline will thank me for narrowing them down. Your taste buds probably won’t.

• The Fudgepacker: THE brownie of choice for salt caramel addicts, covered in firm drifts of fudge-like salted blobs. It was, predictably, extremely tasty (as they all are), but in the slice I gnawed the caramel sugar hadn’t quite dissolved. As a result, the topping was slightly granular. We’ll take a couple of marks off for that – 7/10

• The Curly Whirly: orgasmic cream cheese topping, covering the smoothest chocolate base around. Pretty darn exciting as a concept for a brownie… Pretty darn hard to stop eating. Could’ve done with a few big chocolate chunks maybe. Then again, that might have been overdoing things. This is the brownie that turned me on to the rest of them. Beautiful – 9/10

• The Boston: generously studded with thick chips of dark chocolate; extra moist due to the presence of juicy cranberries. A bit more sophisticated than the others, and not quite so difficult to eat in large quantities. Awesome – 9/10

Oh poop. You may well have noticed we have a tie.

I suppose I ought to pick a winner, really, but when the standards are this high, it’s kinda hard to do. You could just buy both of them…

Ah, what the hell. Buy Boston. Convince yourself that the fruit and dark chocolate are doing your body some good. After that nod to healthy eating, you’ll most likely have earned the right to try all the others.

Problem solved.

Job done.

Konditor & Cook.

It’s been a time of deep spring cleaning in the Hog-house – furniture erected and destroyed, dust obliterated, windows shined to perfection. Lessons have been learnt as well: namely, never put the Man in charge of sorting trash from treasure. In the space of a few short hours, I almost lost a memory card full of photos, and very much did lose an important lead for my digital camera – chucked down the rubbish chute, never to return.

What the Man has against my digital repertoire I have no idea. But in his favour, he does know how to make it up to me. In a word: cake.

I’ve been hearing about the charms of Konditor & Cook for a good few weeks now. With one of their six London stores based near to the Man’s office, it has swiftly become his favourite baking hang-out – but until last night, I had yet to see why.

Cue two bags of cakey goodness, brought fresh to me from Borough Market. The contents? A slice of Curly Whirly Cake, and two small fruit tartlets – one plum, one berry.

A trio of cakes: the only acceptable way to say sorry.

I had never heard of Curly Whirly Cake before, but as soon as I laid eyes on it, I knew we would be friends: after all, who could say no to an extremely smooth, dense and double-layered chocolate concoction, smeared with lashings of vanilla buttercream? Not I, dear Ogglers. Not I.

Before I got my chops around it, I was warned that even half a slice might floor me – the Man had bought one for a colleague’s birthday, so knew what he was getting into.

Of course, pud-expert that I am, I demolished my slice in moments – and got nowhere near the floor (unless you count the sofa, on which I was sat all along). The buttercream truly hogged the limelight: so tangy, so thick, so… phwoar. Apparently they use it in brownies too. YUM.

I could see why the Man felt the need for a warning though: the slice was small by my usual standards, but packed a hefty (and scrumptious) punch. Too rich to have too much of (but not too rich to put me off dreaming of seconds).

Still, as wonderfully moist as the chocolate cake was, the stars of the show were the little fruit tarts – or ‘Treats’ as the Man claims they’re called. The pastry was outstanding: not sweet, but buttery and crisp. And the filling – clouds of moist sweet sponge, dusted with icing sugar and a burst of fresh fruit. Like a frangipane’s little sister, but without the almond filling: gorgeous, light, and zingy.

If you’re looking for revolutionary recipes – crazy ingredients and never-before-tasted combos – then Konditor & Cook may not be quite what you’re after. But, as the Man was keen to point out, if you want a classic done magnificently well, you’d be hard-pressed to find somewhere better. They even use organic free-range eggs (a very major plus-point in this Hog’s book).

In short,  if you hadn’t been able to guess it already, I think I am a convert. Now, if I can only secure my next hit without my belongings being binned, all will be right with the world…