ABOUT ME
Hi I’m Paul.
I’m a dedicated No Dig Method allotment owner, passionate about vegetable and fruit growing, nature lover committed to a sustainable lifestyle.
Home growing enthusiast, passionate cook, preserving champion, self-sufficiency advocate.
LATEST STORIES
- Turkish Delight Ice cream
Homemade Turkish Delight Ice Cream in the Ninja CREAMi Deluxe 🌹🍦
Who knew you could turn one of my favourite old-fashioned sweets into a delicious homemade ice cream?
I’ve been having a wonderful time experimenting with my Ninja CREAMi Deluxe, and this latest creation has definitely earned its place amongst my favourites.
Turkish Delight Ice Cream!
Now, I appreciate that Turkish delight is one of those love-it-or-hate-it sweets. Personally, I love that delicate rose flavour, and I thought, why not turn it into ice cream?
Well, I’m rather glad I did!
The result is a gorgeous pink ice cream with a creamy texture, a lovely floral flavour and little chewy pieces of Turkish delight scattered throughout.
And judging by the expression on my face when I tasted it, I think you can safely say I was impressed! 😂
The best bit? It’s surprisingly easy to make.
🌹 What Makes Turkish Delight Ice Cream So Special?
Traditional Turkish delight, also known as lokum, has been enjoyed for centuries.
It’s famous for its soft, chewy texture and distinctive flavours, particularly rose, lemon and pistachio.
For this recipe, I’ve taken inspiration from the classic rose-flavoured variety.
The rose water provides that unmistakable Turkish delight taste, while the double cream and whole milk create a rich, smooth ice cream.
Then, just when you think things couldn’t get any better, you discover a lovely chewy chunk of Turkish delight!
🍦 My Turkish Delight Ice Cream Recipe
Equipment: Ninja CREAMi Deluxe
Makes: One Deluxe tub
Preparation: 15 minutes
Freezing: At least 24 hours
Ingredients
- 27g full-fat cream cheese
- 70g caster sugar
- 225ml double cream
- 345ml whole milk
- 1 teaspoon rose water
- ½ teaspoon vanilla extract
- 1 drop pink food colouring (optional)
- 50g rose-flavoured Turkish delight, chopped into small pieces
Method
Step 1: Prepare the cream cheese
Place the cream cheese in a microwave-safe bowl and microwave for approximately 10 seconds, just enough to soften it.
Add the caster sugar and whisk thoroughly until smooth and creamy.
Step 2: Add the flavour
Stir in the rose water and vanilla extract.
I’ve used a full teaspoon of rose water because I wanted a noticeable Turkish delight flavour.
Remember, rose water varies between brands, so particularly strong varieties may need a little less.
Step 3: Make the ice cream base
Gradually whisk in the double cream, followed by the whole milk.
You want everything thoroughly combined, but there’s no need to whip lots of air into the mixture.
If you’d like that classic Turkish delight pink colour, add a tiny drop of pink food colouring.
Step 4: Freeze
Pour your mixture into the Ninja CREAMi Deluxe tub.
Make sure you don’t exceed the MAX FILL line.
Secure the lid and place the tub on a flat surface in the freezer for at least 24 hours.
Patience is essential here!
Step 5: Time for the magic!
Remove the tub from the freezer.
Check that the frozen mixture has a level surface. If there’s a raised hump, follow Ninja’s instructions for levelling before processing.
Place the tub into the machine and select:
FULL → ICE CREAM
Allow the machine to complete its programme.
If the ice cream looks crumbly or powdery, select RE-SPIN before adding your mix-ins.
Step 6: Add the Turkish delight
Once your ice cream is creamy, make a hole approximately 4cm wide down through the centre.
Add your 50g of chopped Turkish delight.
Select:
FULL → MIX-IN
The machine will distribute those lovely chewy pieces throughout your ice cream.
And that’s it!
Your very own homemade Turkish Delight Ice Cream.
🌸 My Tips for the Perfect Batch
Don’t overdo the rose water
Although I’ve used one teaspoon, rose water can be surprisingly powerful. You want the ice cream to taste delicately floral, rather than like a bottle of perfume!
Use proper Turkish delight
Choose traditional rose-flavoured Turkish delight rather than chocolate-covered bars for this particular recipe.
Keep the chunks fairly generous
I like knowing when I’ve discovered a piece of Turkish delight. Remember, though, that the pieces become firmer and chewier when frozen.
Don’t panic if it looks crumbly
Sometimes a Ninja CREAMi batch needs a RE-SPIN to bring everything together. Do this before adding your Turkish delight.
Storing leftovers
Smooth the remaining ice cream flat inside the tub, replace the lid and return it to the freezer.
When you’re ready for another helping, use the appropriate processing programme if it has frozen solid again. Previously added Turkish delight pieces may become further broken up during reprocessing.
🌿 From the Allotment to the Ice Cream Parlour
If you’ve followed my adventures on Lottie, you’ll know that I’m passionate about growing my own fruit and vegetables and making the most of everything I harvest.
I’ve already enjoyed experimenting with homemade rhubarb ice cream, and the Ninja CREAMi has opened up another world of possibilities.
Not every flavour needs to come straight from the allotment, of course!
Sometimes it’s simply about having fun in the kitchen, trying something different and discovering a new favourite.
And this Turkish Delight Ice Cream certainly ticks those boxes.
💚 Fancy Making Your Own?
I’ve been using the Ninja CREAMi Deluxe, which lets you make everything from traditional ice cream and gelato to sorbets, milkshakes and frozen drinks.
It’s becoming one of my favourite kitchen gadgets.
If you’re considering buying one, have a look at my TikTok videos, where I share my experiments, recipes and the occasional hilarious reaction when something tastes particularly good!
And I’d love to know:
What’s your favourite ice cream flavour, and what unusual flavour should I try making next?
Leave me a comment. I’m always up for a challenge!
Save a little. Grow a little. Share a little. 💚
Lottie Allotment
- 🎃 Home-Grown Pumpkin Pie
There’s something very satisfying about taking a pumpkin from the plot and turning it into a proper pudding. Pumpkin pie isn’t something we grow up eating quite as much here in Britain, but once you’ve made one from scratch, especially with your own pumpkin, you can see why it’s such a favourite across the pond.
If you’ve never tried pumpkin pie before, don’t expect anything remotely like a pumpkin soup in pastry. The filling is smooth, silky and almost custard-like, gently sweet rather than sickly, with cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg and cloves bringing all those lovely warm autumn flavours.
Think spiced baked custard in crisp buttery pastry, with the pumpkin giving it body, colour and a gentle earthy sweetness. It’s a brilliant way of using up part of a big allotment pumpkin too. 🌱
Makes: 1 x 23cm pie
Serves: 8
Oven: Fan
Prep: Around 45 minutes, plus chilling
Bake: Around 50 minutes, plus roasting the pumpkin
Why roast the pumpkin?
You’ll often see American recipes calling for tinned pumpkin purée. When you’ve got pumpkins sitting on the plot, buying a tin feels a bit daft!
The important bit with fresh pumpkin is getting rid of some of its water. Boiling it can make the purée rather wet, so I roast mine instead.
Roasting concentrates the flavour, brings out the natural sweetness and gives us a much thicker purée. That means a beautifully set pie rather than a soggy bottom and wobbly pumpkin puddle.
For the pumpkin purée
- 750g prepared pumpkin flesh
- You will need 425g finished pumpkin purée for the filling
Heat your oven to 180°C fan.
Peel your pumpkin, scoop out the seeds and stringy centre, then cut the flesh into roughly 3cm chunks.
Spread over a large baking tray in a single layer.
Roast for 35–45 minutes, until completely soft and just beginning to caramelise around some of the edges.
Leave it for around 10 minutes after roasting so excess steam can escape.
Blitz until completely smooth.
Weigh out 425g for the pie.
If your purée still seems particularly watery, pop it into a saucepan over a low heat for a few minutes, stirring regularly, just to drive off a little more moisture.
For the sweet pastry
- 225g plain flour
- 110g cold unsalted butter, cubed
- 25g icing sugar
- Pinch of fine salt
- 1 large egg yolk
- 1–2 tbsp very cold water
Put the flour, icing sugar and salt into a bowl.
Rub the cold butter into the flour using your fingertips until the mixture resembles fine breadcrumbs. You can also pulse this briefly in a food processor.
Add the egg yolk.
Add the cold water a little at a time until the dough just starts coming together. Try not to overwork it.
Bring it together with your hands, flatten into a disc and wrap.
Chill in the fridge for 30 minutes.
Line the tin
Roll the chilled pastry out on a lightly floured surface until it’s large enough to comfortably line a 23cm loose-bottomed tart or flan tin.
Gently lower the pastry into the tin rather than stretching it.
Press it carefully into the base and sides.
Leave a little pastry hanging over the edge. Don’t trim it flush yet. That overhang helps stop the pastry shrinking while it bakes.
Pop the lined tin back into the fridge for another 15 minutes.
Heat your oven to 180°C fan.
Blind bake the pastry
Line the pastry case with baking parchment and fill with baking beans or uncooked rice.
Bake for 15 minutes.
Carefully remove the paper and beans.
Return the pastry case to the oven for another 7–8 minutes, until the base looks dry and has taken on just a little colour.
Now turn the oven down to 160°C fan.
For the pumpkin pie filling
- 425g roasted pumpkin purée
- 2 large eggs
- 1 large egg yolk
- 120g soft light brown sugar
- 200ml double cream
- 1 tsp vanilla extract
- 1½ tsp ground cinnamon
- 1 tsp ground ginger
- ¼ tsp ground nutmeg
- ¼ tsp ground cloves
- ¼ tsp fine salt
Put the pumpkin purée into a large bowl.
Add the eggs and extra yolk.
Add the brown sugar.
Pour in the cream.
Add the vanilla, cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, cloves and salt.
Whisk everything together until beautifully smooth.
You don’t need to whisk loads of air into it. We’re after silky custard, not pumpkin mousse.
Bake the pie
Pour the filling carefully into your warm pastry case.
Bake at 160°C fan for around 40–50 minutes.
This is where you need to trust the wobble.
The outside of the filling should look set, but when you gently move the tin, the very centre should still have a small custardy wobble.
Don’t wait for the whole pie to become completely firm in the oven. It continues setting as it cools, and overbaking is one of the reasons pumpkin pies can crack.
Cooling the pie
Leave the pie in its tin on a cooling rack until completely cool.
Give it at least 2 hours.
Once cool, I like to chill it for another 2–3 hours, or even overnight. The texture gets even better and you’ll get lovely clean slices.
Before removing it from the tin, use a small sharp or serrated knife to carefully trim the excess pastry level with the top edge of the tin.
Then remove the outer ring.
That little trick gives you a much smarter finish without risking the pastry crumbling while the pie is still warm.
How to serve pumpkin pie
I love mine with a dollop of lightly whipped double cream or thick Greek yoghurt.
A little sprinkle of cinnamon over the top works beautifully.
You could also scatter over some toasted pumpkin seeds. Not only does that use another bit of the harvest, they add a cracking little crunch alongside the silky filling.
And whatever you do, don’t throw away those pumpkin seeds when you scoop out your pumpkin. Clean them up and roast them separately for snacking or topping soups, salads and this pie.
What does pumpkin pie actually taste like?
This was the question I had before making my first one too.
The pumpkin flavour itself is surprisingly subtle. What you really notice is the combination of creamy custard, caramel-like brown sugar and warm autumn spices.
It sits somewhere between a traditional custard tart and a softly baked cheesecake in texture, although it has a character all of its own.
The crisp pastry against that smooth filling is what really makes it.
And once it’s properly chilled?
Dangerously easy to wander back to the fridge for just another tiny slice. 🎃😂
- Butternut Squash and Leek Gratin
- Rhubarb Curd
A Delicious Way to Use a Rhubarb Glut 🌿🥄
There comes a point in the season when the rhubarb starts taking over the freezer. You know the drill. You pick it, chop it, freeze it and feel incredibly smug about your future self having bags of homegrown produce tucked away.
Then your future self opens the freezer and thinks, right… what am I actually going to do with all this rhubarb? 😂
Well, here’s another answer: rhubarb curd.
I’d never made rhubarb curd before, but this little experiment turned out brilliantly. It’s rich and buttery, with that unmistakable rhubarb tang, and once chilled it develops a gorgeous thick, silky texture.
Even better, I made mine using previously frozen rhubarb, so this is a cracking recipe for working through the plot stash long after the stalks have been harvested.
Why Rhubarb Curd?
We tend to reach for the same recipes when there’s rhubarb to use. Crumbles, pies, jams and perhaps a bottle or two of something boozy.
Nothing wrong with any of those, obviously!
But curd gives rhubarb an entirely different lease of life. Think lemon curd’s slightly earthier allotment cousin.
It’s lovely on toast, crumpets and scones, but you can also swirl it through yoghurt, spoon it over porridge, use it between sponge cakes or fold it through whipped cream for a ridiculously easy pudding.
Frozen Rhubarb Works Brilliantly
My rhubarb had been frozen and then defrosted before making the curd.
Once rhubarb freezes, the structure breaks down and it releases quite a bit of liquid when thawed. For this recipe that’s actually rather handy.
Don’t drain that juice away.
It’s packed with rhubarb flavour, so the whole lot goes into the saucepan. Because of that extra liquid, there’s also no need to add any water.
Homemade Rhubarb Curd
Makes approximately 2 x 300ml jars
Ingredients
- 600g defrosted rhubarb, including all the juice
- 200g caster sugar
- 125g unsalted butter, cubed
- 3 large eggs
- 2 large egg yolks
- 1 tsp vanilla bean paste
Method
Put the rhubarb and all of its defrosting juices into a saucepan.
Cook gently for around 10–15 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the rhubarb has completely collapsed.
Now here’s where I departed from the more traditional curd method.
Rather than pushing the cooked rhubarb through a sieve, I simply blitzed the whole lot into a smooth purée.
It worked brilliantly. You retain the whole fruit and its fibre, there’s less faffing about and, judging by my finished jar, you certainly don’t sacrifice that lovely smooth texture.
Into the Water Bath
Put a small amount of water into a saucepan and bring it to a very gentle simmer.
Place a heatproof bowl over the saucepan, making sure the bottom of the bowl doesn’t touch the water.
Add the rhubarb purée, caster sugar, butter and vanilla to the bowl.
Stir gently until the butter has completely melted and everything is combined.
Adding the Eggs
In a separate bowl, whisk together the 3 whole eggs and 2 additional yolks.
Gradually pour the beaten eggs into the warm rhubarb mixture while whisking continuously.
Now keep the water underneath at a gentle simmer and stir the curd regularly.
Don’t be tempted to whack the heat up. We’re making rhubarb curd, not sweet rhubarb scrambled eggs. 😂
After around 10–15 minutes, you’ll notice the mixture becoming thicker and silkier.
If you’re using a food thermometer, you’re looking for approximately 80–82°C.
It should coat the back of a spoon, but don’t worry if it still looks slightly looser than you’d expect from a jar of curd.
It thickens considerably as it chills.
Into the Jars
Spoon the hot curd into clean, sterilised jars and seal.
Allow the jars to cool before transferring them to the fridge.
This is important: rhubarb curd isn’t a shelf-stable preserve. It contains butter and eggs, so even though we’ve used sterilised jars, it needs to be kept refrigerated.
I’d aim to eat it within 1–2 weeks, using a clean spoon each time. For longer storage, it can also be frozen in a suitable freezer container for around three months.
The Verdict
Once properly chilled, there was only one sensible way to test it.
Toast.
The result? A definite keeper. 🥄
The rhubarb flavour comes through beautifully, the vanilla softens some of its sharper edges and the butter and eggs transform it into something much richer than jam.
I also really like the fact that blending rather than sieving means we’re not removing all that fruit pulp.
There is, however, already a Batch #2 brewing in my head.
I’m thinking rhubarb and lemon. Not enough lemon to overpower the rhubarb, just enough zest and juice to brighten everything up.
That’s the trouble with growing your own food. One experiment inevitably plants the seed for another. 🌱😂
Rhubarb Curd
600g rhubarb | 200g sugar | 125g butter | 3 eggs | 2 yolks | vanilla
Simple ingredients, homegrown produce and another bag of rhubarb successfully liberated from the freezer.
I’ll call that a plot win. 🌿🥄
- Blackcurrant Firecracker Sauce 🌶️🫐
Fruity and spicy !
From leftover jelly pulp to a fiery little bottle of Lottie magic
There’s something particularly satisfying about making one thing from the allotment and then realising the leftovers can become something completely different.
That’s exactly how my Blackcurrant Firecracker Sauce was born.
After making a batch of blackcurrant jelly, I was left staring at a big bowl of cooked blackcurrant pulp. It had already given me its beautiful juice, but there was still loads of flavour sitting there. Chucking it on the compost heap seemed criminal.
So rather than waste it, I decided to give those blackcurrants another job.
And what a second career they’ve had! 🌶️🔥
The result is a gorgeous deep burgundy sauce that’s fruity and tangy, with smoky spices and a lovely chilli warmth creeping in behind the blackcurrants.
Even better, the dried chillies came from a previous allotment harvest too. This really is one of those recipes where the Lottie pantry raids itself.
Why use the leftover blackcurrant pulp?
When making jelly, we strain the cooked fruit to extract the juice, but that doesn’t mean the remaining pulp is flavourless.
Far from it.
There’s still fruit, fibre and plenty of that unmistakable sharp blackcurrant character left behind.
Normally it might head for the compost heap. Instead, this recipe combines it with red pepper, onion, apple, herbs, spices and chilli to create an entirely new preserve.
One blackcurrant harvest. Two completely different products.
That’s my sort of allotmenteering.
Lottie’s Blackcurrant Firecracker Sauce
Makes: approximately 3 sauce bottles, depending on how far you reduce it.
Ingredients
- 500g leftover blackcurrant pulp from making jelly
- 2 large red peppers, about 300g, roughly chopped
- 1 large onion, diced
- 10–15g dried chillies
- 1 medium cooking apple, about 150g, peeled and grated
- 300ml cider vinegar, 5% acidity
- 3 tbsp tomato purée
- 60g soft brown sugar
- 1 tbsp honey, optional
- 2 tsp garlic granules
- 1 tsp smoked paprika
- 1 tsp sweet paprika
- ½ tsp ground cumin
- 1 tsp freshly ground black pepper
- 1 tsp Worcestershire sauce
- 2 sprigs fresh thyme
- 2 tbsp finely chopped fresh oregano
- 1 tbsp rapeseed oil
- 1 tsp Chiu Chow chilli oil
- 1 tsp homemade basil salt, or to taste
First, wake up those dried chillies 🌶️
Put the dried chillies into a heatproof bowl and cover them with boiling water.
Leave them for around 20 minutes to soften.
Don’t automatically throw that soaking water away. It takes on some lovely chilli flavour and can be used later to loosen the sauce if your blackcurrant pulp makes it particularly thick.
Remove the chilli stalks and roughly chop the softened chillies.
Making the sauce
Heat the rapeseed oil in a large saucepan or preserving pan over a medium heat.
Add the onion and red peppers and gently cook for around 10 minutes, until they’re lovely and soft.
Add the rehydrated chillies and cook for another couple of minutes.
Now stir in the garlic granules, smoked paprika, sweet paprika, cumin and tomato purée.
Cook everything together for around 2 minutes. This little fry wakes up the spices and takes the raw edge off the tomato purée.
Next add the blackcurrant pulp, grated apple, cider vinegar, brown sugar, honey if using, Worcestershire sauce, thyme, oregano and black pepper.
Bring everything up to a gentle simmer.
Cook uncovered for around 35–40 minutes, giving it a stir every now and again so nothing catches on the bottom.
Your kitchen should smell rather magnificent by this point.
Time for the blitz
Fish out the thyme stalks, then blitz everything with a stick blender until beautifully smooth.
You can pass it through a fine sieve if you want a particularly silky sauce, but I rather like keeping as much of that blackcurrant goodness in there as possible.
Return it to the pan and simmer gently until you’ve got the consistency you want.
Remember that the sauce will thicken slightly as it cools, so don’t take it too far.
If yours becomes particularly thick, add some of that reserved chilli soaking liquid a tablespoon at a time until you’ve got a lovely pouring consistency.
Finally, stir through the Chiu Chow chilli oil and homemade basil salt.
Have a taste.
You’re looking for that lovely little sequence of blackcurrant first, sweet and smoky in the middle, chilli arriving afterwards. 🔥
Into the bottles
Sterilise suitable sauce bottles or jars and fill them while both the containers and sauce are hot, following proper hot-fill preserving practice.
And this is where the transformation becomes particularly satisfying.
That bowl of leftover purple pulp suddenly becomes three gorgeous bottles of deep ruby Blackcurrant Firecracker Sauce.
Not bad for something heading towards the compost heap.
How do I use Blackcurrant Firecracker Sauce?
This isn’t just something to splodge next to your chips.
Try it with sausages, burgers, pork steaks, grilled chicken or halloumi. Brush it over chicken wings towards the end of cooking, stir some through pulled pork, or use it as a fruity glaze on the barbecue.
One of my favourites is simply mixing a spoonful through mayonnaise. You get a creamy blackcurrant chilli mayo that’s ridiculously good in a burger.
And blackcurrant loves mature Cheddar, so get some into a cheese toastie and thank me later. 😏🌶️
A little note about preserving
Because acidity and density can vary significantly when you’re using leftover fruit pulp, I wouldn’t claim a fixed 12-month room-temperature shelf life for this homemade recipe without using a properly tested canning recipe or checking the finished product appropriately.
For the safest home approach, keep the finished sauce refrigerated, use clean sterilised bottles, and freeze any excess you won’t use reasonably quickly.
That’s one bit of the original recipe I’d tighten up before publishing it. A boiling-water bath doesn’t automatically make an untested sauce shelf-stable.
Nothing wasted on Lottie 🌱
This might be my favourite part of the whole recipe.
The blackcurrants were grown, harvested and turned into jelly. The juice became one preserve, while the leftover fruit became another.
Even some of the heat came from chillies grown and dehydrated from an earlier harvest.
That’s what growing your own is about for me. It isn’t simply picking something and eating it. It’s learning how to grow it, cook it, preserve it and squeeze every last delicious possibility out of it.
The compost heap can have plenty of other things.
It wasn’t getting my blackcurrants.
Welcome to the Lottie pantry, Blackcurrant Firecracker Sauce. 🌶️🫐🔥
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