Ravneet Gill – Food for Thought
Joining the seemingly endless list of things being “cancelled” in recent years is the sweet-tasting, crystalline substance we colloquially refer to as sugar. Along with anything that contains traces of gluten, wheat, dairy or fat, sugar is often demonised for its potential risk to our health. But like all things in life, isn’t it all about moderation?
Herein lies the crux of pastry chef, cook, and author Ravneet Gill’s latest book Sugar, I Love You. The book is not just an unashamed love letter to all things sweet and syrupy; it is first-and-foremost, all about achieving a healthy equilibrium by knowing when and how to use sugar. “Despite what you think, the book is not about overloading sugar,” explains a cheerful Gill from her charming-looking home in London, “it’s about only appreciating sugar and the sweeter things in life if everything else is balanced.”
Growing up, sugar was a “constant companion” to Gill, and her “five-a-day” often consisted of KitKats, Eccles Cakes, Dairy Milk, Crunchies, and Cornettos. “I had such a big sweet tooth growing up and lived above a corner shop that my Dad owned, so I would run downstairs to grab whatever I could get my hands on,” she recalls. “I honestly used to have a whole tub of Maryland biscuits for breakfast. My mum never said no, which probably explains why I have never known how to diet.”
Gill started whisking and stirring away in her early teenage years. At the University of Southampton, she would host bake sales for charity in between studying for her psychology degree. “The plan was to do a PhD, and my parents were so excited as they thought they’d finally have a doctor in the family,” explains Gill. “But then I decided to change career paths and become a chef, and everyone thought I was raving mad…until now!”
After completing her degree, Gill studied at the cookery school Le Cordon Bleu before working her way up through the ranks of pastry sections at a whole host of kitchens, from Wild by Tart and Llewlyn’s to St John. Gill particularly thrived during her time at St John – the former smokehouse set up by Fergus Henderson and Trevor Gulliver. “I found it so odd that people were nice to me, they gave me the days off I wanted, and that everyone was friends with one another and ate together,” she says. “Before St John, I never saw my family and friends and so was down all the time. But when I worked there, it made me feel like I had a life again; I wasn’t just a person who was there to work.”
Gill then worked at a “well-known bakery” and tried to lobby for the same sort of work-life balance she had at St John. Instead, she was sacked for speaking out and lost all of her confidence. Off the back of her bittersweet experiences in kitchens, Gill set up the organisation Countertalk; a platform designed to help connect chefs, provide education, and promote a healthy work environment in the hospitality industry. “I thought to myself if places like St John exist – why wouldn’t other kitchens and bakeries want to replicate that?”
“I started Countertalk a few years ago, and no one was really listening. But, owing to the pandemic, the organisation has found its relevance again. The past year or so has made owners realise how important it is to nurture their staff and put incentives in place to have good staff retention. I find it incredible that so many people have yet to realise how important a work-life balance is for their business model.”
As well as being a torchbearer for better hospitality, Gill is now the author of two cookbooks. Her debut cookbook, The Pastry’s Chef’s Guide, is aimed at chefs and home bakers who fear baking. It is a “straight-talking no-nonsense manual designed to become the baking reference book on any cookery shelf.” Harnessing her expertise as a patisserie chef, Gill explains everything from the principles of patisserie to how to line your tins when baking everything macarons and meringues.
Her second book, Sugar, I Love You, published this week, focuses on appreciating the sweeter things in life. “The book has a storytelling narrative,” she explains. “It’s about being a chef, how hard work can get you far, and about learning from mistakes. I want to encourage people to take the lessons I’ve included in the book and make it their own, adapt the recipes and change it for themselves.” In-between tales told in Gill’s distinctive humorous prose, Sugar, I Love You is peppered with salivating recipes for Basque cheesecake, crème fraîche loaf with roasted plums and pistachio cream, miso caramel and chocolate tart, brioche cubes and Indian semolina shortbread (Nankhatai).
“My favourite recipes are the chocolate lazy persons cake, the Japanese cheesecake, the smoked almond and quince tart,” she says. “If anyone manages to make the mango roulade, you’ll love that as it’s very refreshing and light. I also manage to make my own version of a Maryland chocolate biscuit, which took me forever to get right but eventually got there – if you like crunchy things, you’ll love it.”
Gill seems to always have her hands full. When she isn’t producing a cookery book she is writing her baking column for The Telegraph, hosting events for Countertalk and being a judge on Junior Bake Off. You can’t help but wonder which role brings Gill the most amount of gratification? “Teaching brings me the most fulfilment,” she says, “I always want to be able to give something back. I love being a judge on Junior Bake Off as in the off-camera moments, I can coach the kids and tell them how everyone makes mistakes when it comes to baking. Reassuring them and seeing them grow in confidence, as a result, makes me very happy.”
For Gill’s last ever supper, she picks a starter of a “huge bowl of spaghetti with the freshest and most delicious tomatoes, scattered with parmesan.” For her main course, Gill picks “her mums’ homemade flatbread with dhal and fenugreek.” For dessert, “a big slice of chocolate cake which has been warmed up in the microwave before being doused in cold cream.” To wash it all down, “a can of coke.”
“We make desserts for PEOPLE”, Gill writes in Sugar, I Love You, “whether that’s for eager customers or for those we love, as well as to mark significant milestones in life. Eating something sweet isn’t about survival as such, but it does make life a whole lot better.”
I think we’d all agree with that.
You can buy Sugar, I Love You here.
Ravneet Gill’s recipe for rhubarb and orange cheesecake
I used to do an event at Llewelyn’s, a neighbourhood restaurant in Herne Hill, called “Cheesecake Fridays”. I loved channelling the seasons through the medium of cheesecake: what a joyous way to live and work! One of our biggest hits was this cheesecake; I think it’s the visual contrast between forced, beautifully bright pink rhubarb and white cheesecake filling. The gentle warm spicing from the base against the cold, slightly zingy sour rhubarb, and then the creamy filling, come together to create complete oral satisfaction. Enough to hit the sides of your cheeks and leave you wanting to eat the entire cake (if you’re anything like me before a night out).
Note: This cheesecake does not work without gelatine or its vegetarian alternatives (check the package instructions to work out the quantity conversion).
Ingredients (makes a 20 cm/8in cheesecake).
For the base
1⁄2 quantity Baked NY Cheesecake base (see recipe below)
For the filling
5 “platinum grade” gelatine leaves (I use Dr. Oetker)
110g caster sugar
40ml water, plus extra if needed
1 egg and 1 egg yolk
finely grated zest of 1 orange and juice of 1⁄2
juice of 1 lemon
340g full-fat cream cheese, at room temperature
320g double cream, lightly whipped
For the roasted rhubarb and jelly
150g forced rhubarb
90g caster sugar
100ml water, plus extra if needed juice of 1 orange, plus extra if needed
1 “platinum grade” gelatine leaf (I use Dr. Oetker), or as needed
Method
Make the base of the cheesecake by pressing the baked crumble and butter mixture from the food processor into a 20cm (8in) springform tin.
For the filling, we have to start by making a paté à bombe, by pouring hot sugar over whipped egg yolks.
Soak the gelatine in a bowl of ice-cold water.
Put the sugar in a small saucepan with the measured water, add a thermometer and heat to 119°C.
Meanwhile, start whipping the egg and egg yolk on a medium speed in a stand mixer. As it’s such a small amount, make sure the whisk is touching the bottom of the bowl, because it’s essential to get some volume into these eggs before the sugar is added, it helps to achieve a beautifully light-textured cheesecake. Whisk until pale and thick.
Pour the hot sugar syrup slowly down the side of the bowl as the machine is whisking, ensuring that the stream does not touch the whisk. The hot sugar will ‘cook’ the egg yolks. Let this whisk on a medium speed until the bowl is no longer hot to touch.
Pour the orange and lemon juice into the same pan that the sugar was heated in. Heat it gently, but do not boil, then squeeze out the excess water from the gelatine before dissolving it in the juice. When the gelatine has dissolved (it takes seconds) remove from the heat and add to the paté à bombe. Whisk it in gently.
In a separate bowl, beat the cream cheese until smooth and add to the paté à bombe mixture. Mix until completely smooth. Fold in the lightly whipped cream and orange zest.
Pour the filling over the base and refrigerate overnight.
The next day, make the roasted rhubarb topping. Preheat the oven to 150°C fan/170°C/gas mark 3½.
Cut the rhubarb into 5cm (2in) pieces and toss them in the sugar, measured water and orange juice. Spread out on a baking tray in a single even layer and roast for 10–15 minutes. The sugar should melt, leaving a syrup on the tray, and the rhubarb should be tender, not mushy; it should still hold its shape when prodded. Take out of the oven and allow to cool at room temperature.
Strain the rhubarb cooking liquid into a measuring jug; set the roasted rhubarb aside. Weigh the cooking liquid and taste it. We are aiming for 100ml of liquid to cover the top of the cheesecake and you need 1 sheet to set that amount. This is very important: if it’s flat, add some acidity in the form of extra orange juice, and if it’s too sweet, add a bit more water to dilute it. This will be poured and set on top of the cheesecake.
To make the jelly, soak the gelatine in a bowl of ice-cold water.
Warm the rhubarb cooking liquid gently in a small saucepan. Squeeze out the gelatine leaf and stir in until dissolved. Don’t heat the liquid for too long, or you risk losing the colour.
Take off the heat and cool slightly, then pour over the cheesecake and return to the fridge to set. As it’s thin, this should only take 30 minutes.
To serve, remove the cheesecake from the tin and slice. Serve with the roasted rhubarb and prepare to be orally satisfied. And if it all gets too much and you eat the whole thing while staring into space, pop on a pair of trousers with an elasticated waistband and paint the town red.
Baked NY Cheesecake base (makes a 20cm/8in cheesecake (with enough mix for two bases; I always freeze half)
For the base
160g plain flour
25g caster sugar
25g dark brown sugar
1⁄4 tsp ground cinnamon
1⁄4 tsp ground ginger
1⁄4 tsp fine salt
1⁄4 tsp bicarbonate of soda
112g unsalted butter, chilled and
cubed, plus 60g unsalted butter, melted
40g golden syrup
Method
Preheat the oven to 160°C fan/180°C/gas mark 4.
Mix together all the dry ingredients for the base. Add the chilled cubed butter and mix to the texture of loose breadcrumbs. Drizzle in the syrup and mix until a dough forms. Freeze half for your next cheesecake.
Crumble the remaining base mixture into a baking tray in a single layer and bake for 25–30 minutes, stirring the edges into the middle a couple of times so it browns evenly. The crumble should be golden and cooked throughout.
Remove from the oven and allow to cool. Blitz the crumble in a food
processor to re-crumble it, then stir in the melted butter.
Increase the oven temperature to 180°C fan/200°C/gas mark 6.
Line the base and sides of a 20cm (8in) cake tin with baking paper.
Press the base into the prepared tin. You can line the base alone, or bring some up the sides.
Bake for 10 minutes, then allow to cool while you make the filling.