French Baking with Marianne Bradley at One Mile Bakery

There really is nothing more inviting than the smell of freshly baked goods. A crusty loaf, a flaky pastry, a buttery brioche. Mmm. Just a waft of it in the air sends my stomach rumbling, and romantically reminds me of sunnier times, queuing at Parisian boulangeries whilst on holiday, desperate to get my croissant fix for the day.

Luckily I don't have to hop over the channel every time I want some decent dough; we're surrounded by fantastic bakeries here in the Cotswolds too (Cheltenham's Baker & Graze do some mean almond croissants FYI). But how about learning some knew skills and making your own tasty treats?... Think of it; that delicious scent every weekend (if you're extra keen)... Meet One Mile Bakery.

In 2012, journalist turned baker Elisabeth Mahoney launched the first One Mile Bakery in Cardiff, delivering artisan bread, seasonal soups and delicious preserves by bike within a mile of her domestic kitchen, and teaching inspirational baking classes to more than 2000 people. Earlier this year, two new branches with exactly the same ethos were launched; one with rugby player Nick Macleod in Rhiwina, Cardiff, and the other right here in Cirencester with the super-talented Marianne Bradley.

Now, Marianne and I have been following each other on Instagram for quite some time. Me admiring her flour based wizardry (in between pictures of kids, dogs and foraged foods) and her liking photos of my utter gluttony and love of booze. Despite having never met, it felt like we knew each other's lives pretty well, so when she invited me along to the French Baking Class she was doing in August, I jumped at the chance.

Coffee in hand, and three other eager bakers by my side, Marianne welcomed us to her home - this ain't no poncey cookery school - introducing herself and her helper for the day (India). We'd learn laminating, try our hands at enriched dough, and bang out some baguettes. Oui oui! Somewhere along the way would be a French inspired lunch with a glass of French wine too. Now you're talking. Sadly I was sans breton and beret, but let's just pretend that's what I was wearing, yeah?

Croissants were first on the agenda seeing as they're the most laborious thing to make. Though let's just stop right here to say that if you don't wish to know how much butter goes into your breakfast bake, just go and buy them; ignorance is bliss. I've come to terms with the slightly obscene amount, but I've never been able to master the art of lamination - the process of folding butter into dough multiple times to create very thin alternating layers of butter and dough. Ten minutes of kneading, patience, a fridge and a rolling pin are required… And a couple of hours pottering about the house. Just going to the shop sounds more appealing now, doesn't it? But that self satisfaction and knowing exactly what's in what you're eating - no hidden nasties - more than makes up for it. You can totally taste the love that's gone into them too!

Whilst our soon-to-be-croissants were doing their thing, we moved onto an enriched dough, where butter, sugar, eggs and milk are mixed into the dough. It was sticky business with another ten minutes of kneading, and even when it looks like there's no hope of rescuing the pool of gloop you've created, with some persistence it will come together in the end. Trust.

We did a sped-up version to create the perfect brioche loaf in class, but there's the option to do an overnight prove to take the pressure off. And since we'd been working so hard (aka we had a bit of time to kill before the next step) we stopped for a little tea break with treats. On Saturdays, Marianne bakes buns for Rave Coffee in Ciren, and thankfully she'd saved us some back. A semi-sourdough roll, with a sugary cinnamon swirl is her signature - amazing - but she also had a seasonal damson offering too.  Sweet jammy layers, with a sharp electric pink icing that was made purely from a combination of damson purée and icing sugar. I gladly wolfed one down and snaffled one to take home. Winner.

In between croissant rolling and folding, we managed to whip up some bread dough (much more confidently than at the start of the class) and shape our brioche ready for it's second prove in the tin. Then LUNCH.

With One Mile Bakery's local values in mind, everything Marianne had made was sourced from Abbey Home Farm, an organic farm shop just down the road from her in Cirencester. We started with a classic vegetable soup mopped up with some of her sourdough baguette slathered in fresh butter. Then a three onion and cheese tart, with garlic roast potatoes and a gem lettuce salad. Simple and delicious.

With full bellies and extra energy, we baked our brioche loaves, rolled, slashed and baked our baguettes, then turned our attention back to the croissant dough. Once you've worked hard to create those laminated layers, it's all in the shaping darling, and Marianne showed us how to roll both a traditional croissant and a pain au chocolat. I was pretty chuffed with my efforts having only ever attempted to do them (a little unsuccessfully) once before. Gold star for me and in the oven they went.

The house smelt incredible as the kitchen table was being piled high with all our French goods. Dished out to each respective baker, we smugly left with heaving bags, and despite still being full from lunch, I had to scoff a warm croissant as soon as I got home. Had to.

"Nothing beats the feeling of baking your own beautiful bread and sharing it with people you love," One Mile Bakery says. I couldn't agree more. And with OMB's informal but informative classes, you can sharpen your skills to do just that.

Unfortunately Marianne's Cirencester branch is no longer running classes, but if you fancy tripping across the Severn Bridge, then she highly rates Nick's One Mile Bakery in Cardiff. Whether you're a newcomer to bread or not, there's something for everyone, and with the C-word in our sights, there are even Festive Baking classes to get stuck into. No shop bought mince pies for Santa this year!

Meanwhile, Marianne is pursuing another baking venture; Bun Mistress. When you want to cheat on your diet, come to the Bun Mistress... I can vouch for their tastiness. There are plans to run 'buns & bubbles' evenings, bun baking classes, and also to team up with her friend India, who owns Jua Kali - a mobile coffee bar in the back of an old Land Rover. A decent flat white and a sugary bun is exactly what you want at festivals, right? Definitely one to keep an eye out for. In the meantime, I know who to call when I'm sick of salads…

Set Lunch Menu at The White Spoon

Well then, a lot has changed since my last post at the start of May - hence the radio silence. Not only do I have myself some extra bling, but I also have a new surname too (though we'll stick with Simpson on here). Yep, The Chap and I got married, and we've done some serious celebrating; aka eating (a lot) and drinking (a lot) in various places around the country. It's the only way we know how.

Anyway, now that our feet are firmly back on the ground, and there's no more wedmin to take up all our evenings, it's time to rejoin the local foodie loop. And what better way to start than an invitation to The White Spoon for a Cotswolds Bloggers event!

I've written about The White Spoon before; we had a wonderful dinner there not long after it had opened, and we still talk about that blackened beef. Though admittedly not quite as much as we talk about The Chap's incident with a razor clam at the launch party. He'll never live that one down (there was crunching involved).

I've been back since, having a suitably boozy a la carte lunch there a few months ago, but this was the first time trying their set lunch menu, albeit on a Friday night. There's a new Front of House, who gives us just as warm a welcome and shows us to our seats. It seemed a little odd that our bloggers group were split up into two separate tables, but hey ho.

Our options were simple; two courses, two options for each, job done. Naturally, The Chap and I had one of each so that all bases were covered, and with our orders in, out came a carafe of house white (£3 per glass with the set menu) and The White Spoon's signature plant pot bread with Applewood smoked butter. It's a £2 supplement, but always order the bread; there's a reason it hasn't changed since day one.

Kelmscott pork chop with peas and broad beans was my choice for mains. There's something so comforting about a simple chop paired with other simple seasonal ingredients, in this case double podded broad beans and peas folded through a pea purée. For once there was no trickery in the cheffy shorthand menu, and sometimes that's all that you want. Excellent.

In contrast, The Chap's dish of goats cheese ravioli with pickled beetroot was a total surprise. One large ravioli packed with tangy cheese sat atop some slices of red and golden beetroot - yep, got this - with some wilted greens - yep, still with you - and covered with pickled beetroot foam... Say what? I don't think anyone was expecting it, but that magenta foam not only looked incredible but tasted it too; an instant hit of pickled beetroot as if by magic.  

We were given a side of crushed swede and black pepper and some mind boggling aerated mash (£3.50 supplement each). In its fancy copper pan, it looked like the lump-less mash you'd usually see in a restaurant, but it really was so light that it was like eating a potato cloud. A new one for me. Both were a good accompaniment to the pork, the ravioli not so much, though it didn't stop anyone diving in.

The first dessert was lemon parfait and meringue. Blowtorched Italian meringue, crisp meringue shards and biscuit crumbs offered a range of textures, whilst the zingy parfait was the star of the show. A pick-me-up rather than an overindulgence, and perfect in this kind of weather. 

The other, banana cake with ginger ice cream. Not the dense sickly sweet cake that is so often the case, but a super fluffy sponge topped with banana purée and caramelised banana slices. That's the thing about Chris White's cooking here at The White Spoon; he shies away from overly rich and heavy dishes, adopting a 'lighter' style of cooking which "showcases the diversity of ways in which ingredients can be prepared and enjoyed." And with their second birthday on the horizon, it's clearly working for them.

We finished the evening with Bristol Twenty coffee and petit fours. A decent cup of coffee, a bite size brownie, biscotti and marshmallow, for just a £3 supplement? I've spent more than that on a single espresso before, so you'd be a fool not to.

The White Spoon's set menu is a steal at £12 for two courses, or three for £15, and is available Wednesday to Saturday lunchtimes as well as before 7pm on Thursdays. It changes weekly in order to capture the best seasonal ingredients, which also means you can go regularly and never get bored - hurrah!

Big thanks to Chris, Purdey and their team for hosting us Cotswolds Bloggers; it's nice to be back.

Hobbs House School // Bread Masterclass with The Fabulous Baker Brothers

I just wanted to tell you that I must have been really good last year. Father Christmas was extraordinarily generous. Not only did he get me a swish winter coat, but he also booked me on to a Bread Baking Masterclass at Hobbs House School in Chipping Sodbury. I had been dreamily looking at the courses there for ages, which makes me think he'd been keeping tabs on me, or that someone tipped him off. Either way, I'm eternally grateful.

I had just over a month to wait, and all I knew is that Tom Herbert, one of The Fabulous Baker Bothers (you might have caught them on the TV), would be leading the class, teaching us - hands on - how to make the perfect loaf, from sourdough to soda. I was informed that the day started with coffee and pastries at 9am, then would end with dinner at 5pm, so the promise of being fed for the day definitely added to my excitement. Anyway, the weekend before last saw me tootle on over to the South Cotswold town, both nervous and eager eyed.

The school is above the award winning bakery and butchery on Chipping Sodbury's high street, in what was once the Herbert's family home - its a beautiful building, with quirks and character, and yep, the bathrooms do actually have baths in. Hobbs House was established in the 20s, and is now proudly in it's fifth generation. The school is a recent addition to the business; the leading brothers (Tom and Henry) aim to use it to share their enthusiasm, and in turn pass on their experience and traditions for many generations to come.

There were ten of us attending the course, all of varying ages and baking competence; we sat around the long table in the dining room, chatted over coffee and picked out our favourite pastries (I went for the almond croissant - it never fails to hit the spot - buttery bliss). We heard all about the history of Hobbs, and how the brothers have got to where they are today. They're just as they appear on screen, jokey, passionate, and not an ounce of arrogance, which made for a laid back environment. Having introduced ourselves and attached name badges - classic - we went through to the classroom with Tom to kick things off. (Henry was to be bound to the kitchen for the day, making us food and drink, and generally acting as 'baking bitch'.)

Now, I don't want to divulge too much as I'd much rather urge you to go and participate in a masterclass yourself, so I'll just give you a brief run through of what we got up to. Each armed with a Hobbs School notebook and dough scraper, we started with sourdough as it takes the longest to make. Scribbling down the weights of the ingredients from the old fashioned black board, we then watched Tom mix a massive amount of dough on the table top, before he dished it out to us to knead for a good 15 minutes. We talked about many of the misconceptions we have in bread baking, he gave us tips on what to do/not to do, and discussed different flours. Shamefully, I'm a "flour floozy", I never stick to the same one - I'm a changed person now, honest.

Morning exertion out of the way, we put the dough in front of the fire to prove whilst we moved on to soda bread. But before we busted out the flour, we had a little task to make our own butter; the process of over-whipping double cream separates the solids from the liquids, producing super soft butter (which you can roll up and whack in the fridge), and buttermilk, which is key for making soda bread. It's the best bread to make in a hurry as it doesn't require time to rise, just mix and go, hey presto!

With little loaves in the oven, we moved on to 'The Great White' before lunch. We split into four teams, and following the recipe, we competed to see who could make their dough the quickest - I think we may have been last. Once kneaded until smooth and stretchy, all four were combined and left to prove. I think thats what's nice on the course, you don't make your own personal selection of bread to take home, it's a group effort and everything is shared out evenly. How lovely.

Lunch involved our soda bread, hot from the oven, with the homemade butter and some accompaniments courtesy of Henry; houmous, a blue cheese dip, and pickled cucumbers; toasted with a glass of prosecco. Afternoon boozing and baking? This is my kind of course..

A quick shape up of the sourdough, ready for it's second rise, and we returned to the white dough to play around with the endless possibilities of how you can adapt it - not just your average loaf dont'ya know. We made pittas (mine looked like a comedy speech bubble), ate pittas, rolled the most spherical dinner rolls, made focaccia, tossed pizza bases - then topped them with swanky cheeses and meats fresh from the butchers below, baked them in a Chadwick Pizza Oven, and scoffed them too - twirled cheese straws, plaited a jewish sweet bread called Cholla.. And I think that was it.

All palmed off to Henry to cook, we ended where we began, the sourdoughs. Luckily, we each had a kilner jar of the Hobb's 50+ year starter to take home with us, so Tom talked through the process of keeping "The Monster" alive and how to plan your weekly/monthly cycle of baking bread. The bubbly beasts were put in the oven, and we finished the day with a hearty puff pastry pie - chicken, bacon, leeks and herbs - with a dollop of fluffy mash, and fresh green veg on the side. Oh and a chilled glass of white vino too.

I'm pretty sure I ate more pastry/breaded goods over the course of this one day than I did in the whole of January; I was totally stuffed, and it was totally worth it (you can see our greedy grins in the snap of all of us). I'm still surprised at how much we made during the day, dividing it up at the end seemed like I was robbing the joint.

So, whether you're a beginner in the bread department, someone who has had a few failing attempts, or even if you consider yourself a dab hand with the dough, I'd 100% recommend Tom's masterclass (they have plenty of other classes too, if bread isn't your thing). Hobb's provides a day full of foodie fun, smothers you with confidence, and inspires you to go home and perfect what you've learnt - along with a beefy bag of hand crafted goodies.

Normally you'd go to school with a packed lunch, not expect to take one home with you; that's a sign that this is a school with a difference. So thanks F.C. - I had a blast!