Marmaduke Scarlet

introducing kelly's kentish town fairing: a mincemeat treat!

2012-02-16T06:00:00.000Z

kentish town fairing!

I may have overdone this year's batch of Christmas mincemeat. It's not that I don't like mincemeat. I love it. But I made so much that I started to give jars away. Unfortunately my friends had also started to see me coming.

Since I have become somewhat obsessive about making and baking things, my friends are quite happy to try the finished result but are less happy with jars of pickles and food in it's uncooked state. I'm guessing why bother when you know someone (well me) would do it for you. And there is just so often that I can turn up a the pub lugging a tower of tupperware to hand out my kitchen largesse . . .

I had just made too much. Of course, I can "lay" some down for next year, or the year after, or the year after that . . . but it will be a case of storing up trouble. Because I know damn well that come the autumn, I'll want to make some up fresh. Which brings me on to my mincemeat problem. I have about my own body weight in the stuff and it needs to be used. What was stumping me was things to do with it.

Last year, after making the obvious mince pies and tarts, I tried making mincemeat crumble traybake. It was lovely. However, not wanting to get stuck in a rut, I wanted to try something new. Which brought me on to my next minor problem. There seem to be very little inspiration out there. I had trawled through my recipe books, and after making a rather nice Dan Lepard Bramley apple and mincemeat pasty (frankly just a posh mince pie) and a sort of financier-friand type thing (which was nice, but would have been much nicer with something to dunk it in, such as a large glass of port!) there wasn't much on offer. I had some leftover puff pastry and ended up making an enormous Eccles-type cake but what I really wanted was something less cakey and with a little more crunch.

Time to experiment I think. So for the past few weeks I have been trying out several different biscuit and cookie recipes . . . the sorts of things that might usually contain dried fruit and spices. And I have finally adapted one that works with the addition of large dollops of mincemeat (I can afford to be generous). Hey, half the time I am doing this, so you don't have to.
So I give you, the Kentish Town Fairing - my version of the famous Cornish ginger biscuit studded with a cornucopia of spices and other goodies.

The Cornish Fairing became popular at fairs, often the hiring fairs, and were considered an absolute treat. If you think that centuries ago, most of the working or middle classes experiences of "biscuits" would have either been ships' biscuits or the medicinal biscuits such as "Bath Olivers" or "Abernathy" biscuits. It wasn't until industrialisation and the rise of the "fancy" biscuit in the late nineteenth century that biscuits became more readily available.

Some of the original fairings would be flavoured with saffron and sweetened with honey, decorated with almonds, marzipan, icing or even edible gold leaf. Other biscuits were flavoured with liquorice or even sandalwood. They were usually highly spiced with ginger and other exotic spices from nutmeg and cinnamon to mace and allspice. Some even contained candied angelica or citrus peel. So I don't think it should be too much of a leap to add a generous dollop or two of mincemeat.

Skill level: Easy
Yield: about 25 to 30 biscuits

ingredients:
230g plain flour
a pinch of salt
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp bicarbonate of soda
1 tsp ground mixed spice
1 tsp ground ginger
1 tsp ground cinnamon
2 tbsp mincemeat
100g butter
100g granulated sugar
4 tbsp golden syrup

directions:

Preheat the oven to 150C / Gas Mark 2.
Line and lightly grease several large baking trays.
Mix the dry ingredients together in a mixing bowl. (You can sift them if you want, but I usually don't bother)
Add a couple of generous tablespoons of mincemeat and combine well.
Gently heat together the butter, sugar and golden syrup until the butter has melted and the sugar has dissolved.
Stir the sugar mixture into the flour and mincemeat mix and combine well, until it forms a soft dough.
At this stage I usually refrigerate the dough for a couple of hours. Chilling makes the dough easier to work with.
Mould the mixture into walnut-sized balls. (I find it easier to do this with slightly wet fingers. Others prefer to flour their hands to form the dough balls).
Place them well apart on the greased baking sheet (they will spread considerably).
Bake for 10 to 12 minutes.
Leave the fairings to cool for a few minutes on the baking sheet before removing to a wire rack in order that they cool completely.
They keep well in an airtight container.

what's in season: february

2012-02-01T04:00:00.000Z

rhubarb, rhubarb!

If February give much snow
A fine summer it doth foreshow
(Traditional English saying)

Well if there's any truth in the saying, so far England is destined for another dismal summer. Although forecasters are predicting a "cold snap" blowing in from the east. Which could mean anything from a bit of a chill to blizzards.

But weather aside, spring is on the horizon and if you're looking forward to a little colour in your culinary life, then it is the right time to celebrate rhubarb. February sees the Rhubarb Festival in Wakefield, heart of the wonderful "Rhubarb Triangle" (weather permitting . . . the lack of frosts this winter has affected the growing season).And if you think rhubarb is just for puddings (crumbles or perhaps a trifle), then think again. Stewed rhubarb makes a stunning accompaniement for roast pork.

And while in the mood to celebrate, we've got St Valentine's Day and Pancake Day (also known as Shrove Tuesday or Mardi Gras) on 21 February.

February definitely feels like a soup month. Nothing to heavy, in order to ward off those memories of Christmas gluttony, but soothing enough to scare aware the winter blues. A nice spicy parsnip soup will do nicely I think!

Fish are most definitely still going strong in the cold months, delicious poached in a splash of white wine and served with buttery mashed potato and some leafy greens. Very comforting. And don't forget that mussels are relatively cheap at the moment,as well as being very quick and easy to cook.

And talking of leafy greens, it is the season for kale and various cabbages, as well as leeks and Brussels, which can be easily turned into a satisfying soup or added to mash for a cheerful "bubble and squeak", perfect with a leftover roast. Winter root crops are still in season and there are stores of potatoes, apples and pears.

vegetables, herbs and wild greens:
artichokes (Jerusalem), beetroot, broccoli (purple sprouting), Brussels sprouts, Brussels tops, cabbages (various green varieties and white), carrots, cauliflower, celeriac, celery, chard, chicory, endive, greens (spring and winter), kale, kohlrabi, leeks, mushrooms, onions, parsnips, potatoes, shallots, spinach, squash, swede, turnips

fruit and nuts:
apples (pippins and russets), pears, rhubarb (forced)

meat and game:
beef, chicken, guinea fowl, hare, mutton, pork, turkey, venison

fish and shellfish:
cockles, cod, crab (brown, cock and hen), haddock, halibut, herring, lobster, mussels, oysters (rock), shrimps

what's in season: january

2012-01-01T06:30:00.000Z

cobbles and puddles!

To read a poem in January is as lovely as to go for a walk in June.
Jean-Paul Sartre 1905-80

Not such a bleak mid winter this year although we've had our fair share of wind and rain. I know for certain that the seasons are all a bit havey-cavey as I have a summer hollyhock in flower in my north London garden! But despite the milder weather, I still love comforting winter food and of course there are still fresh seasonal foods that are good to eat.

British root vegetables are in season to turn into hearty warming dishes such as a traditional beef and ale stew or a pie served with a mountain of mashed potato and buttered greens.. Or what about a soothing potato and cheese pie?

Winter suits my urge to make soup. Or perhaps it's the other way around. But either way, I find soup making very therapeutic - a very good way to get rid of winter blues and post holiday angst! Nothing like chopping vegetables and giving food a blitz in the blender to grind out all my seasonal anguish. My favourite soup of all time is probably a knobbly celeriac with Stilton cheese (although most blue cheeses will do). I love the comfort of homemade soup, especially if it is accompanied by some homemade sourdough bread - try out the spicy parsnip soup for a bit of a taste kick too.

There are stores of fruit such as apples and pears. Flat fish are particularly good right now and I am determined to eat more game this year, such as venison and pheasant.

And while I may be suffering the post-holiday doldrums, there is Burns' Night on 25th January to look forward to. Mmmmn, haggis (Macsween's for me) and neeps. While Seville oranges are not British, they brighten up the cooking year and it is certainly traditional to make marmalade or orange curd as soon as they are available. One of my friends recommends drinking the juice in a gin and tonic for an extra fillip; which sounds like a fabulous way to chase the gloom of January away.

vegetables, herbs and wild greens:
artichokes (Jerusalem), beetroot, broccoli (purple sprouting), Brussels sprouts, Brussels tops, cabbages (various green varieties, red and white), carrots, cauliflower, celeriac, celery, chard, chicory, endive, greens (spring and winter), kale, kohl rabi, leeks, mushrooms, onions, parsnips, potatoes, shallots, spinach, squash, swede, turnip

fruit and nuts:
apples (pippins), pears, rhubarb (forced)

meat and game:
beef, chicken, goose (farmed and wild), hare, mallard, mutton, partridge, pheasant, pork, turkey, venison

fish and shellfish:
cockles, cod, crab (brown, cock and hen), haddock, herring, lobster, mussels, plaice, oysters (native and rock), scallops, shrimps

good tidings of comfort and joy: stollen

2011-12-28T06:00:00.000Z

family-soothing stollen?

Christmas this year has not been awash with happiness. It was not so much that I minded not having turkey. I didn't. In fact, I was quite relieved, since I wouldn't have to feign appreciation, with all those "nom, nom, nom" noises tokening approval. I am a good actress unfortunately, which means we keep having turkey. But what with the house being flooded, the oven not working and my relatives being a bit cranky, food and drink doesn't seem to have been at the forefront of anybody's mind, except for mine (as usual).

But as the sainted Nigel Slater so aptly put it, stollen is both soothing and "the last word in cosiness at Christmas". I much prefer this yeasted cake, studded with my favourite dried fruits and a few Christmas spices, to the more traditionally English Christmas cake. I am hoping it will do the trick and restore harmony. And if that doesn't work, I am breaking out the gin!

Skill level: Medium (unless you have never made bread before and then it might be a bit trickier!)

ingredients:
100g butter
500g strong white bread flour
1 x 7g sachet easy blend yeast
225ml warm milk
50g golden caster sugar
2 tsp salt
1 x large egg

filling
50g dried sour cherries
50g dried currants
50g dried raisins
60g dried sultans
100g mixed peel
½ tsp ground cardamom
½ tsp ground cinnamon
½ tsp ground cloves
½ tsp ground mace
50g ground almonds
zest of 1 x orange, finely grated
200g marzipan, roughly grated

glaze

50g butter, melted

icing sugar

directions:

Combine the flour, sugar, salt, spices, yeast and dried fruit in a bowl.
Warm the milk In a pan and slowly bring to a gentle simmer and set aside to cool slightly.
Melt the butter and whisk into the warmed milk, adding the orange zest.
Whisk the egg and then whisk into the warmed milk and butter mixture.
Pour this into the flour and stir well to combine. Leave for about 10 minutes. This allows the flour to absorb all the liquid. It will give you a good idea if you need a splash more milk or not (although you shouldn't).
Knead the mixture for about 10 minutes then set aside (covered with a damp tea-towel) until the dough has increased in size. This will take between 90 minutes and two hours.
Gently knock back the risen dough.
Tip out onto a lightly floured surface and flatten out into a rough oblong shape. I use the tips of my fingers to squash out the air bubbles. It's like a game of doughy bubble wrap!
Use a rolling pin to roll out the dough into about a 25cm x 20cm oval.
Sprinkle over the roughly grated marzipan. Then fold the dough over in the middle and tuck in the ends and press down to seal. It will look a bit rough and ready, but since stollen is supposed to represent the Baby Jesus in his swaddling clothes, this is no bad thing!
Preheat the oven to 180 C / Gas Mark 4.
Place the folded dough onto a lined or greased baking tray and cover with a damp tea-towel. Leave until it has about doubled in size.
Bake in the preheated oven for about 35 minutes. Remove and set aside to cool.
When cool, paint the stollen with a thin layer of melted butter. Then coat with a thicker layer of icing sugar.

a guilty pleasure . . .

2011-12-27T12:30:00.000Z

chicken noodle soup

I posted a recipe for a Thai hot and sour soup recipe a few days ago. It's something I make often. No shame in that. But I do have a guilty pleasure. It is so bad, that when I confessed it to Nephew Number 2, he appeared as shocked to the core as the average eleven year old can be. Although he admitted it was funny, he was more incensed at the injustice of it all. How come I can get away with it and he can't? I suggested he learn to cook .

So here it is . . . when I make this soup, I like to use udon noodles. Nothing wrong with that and any other fat noodle will do. However, completely by accident (another case of serendipity in my kitchen, or so I like to think), I disovered that bucatini pasta works just as well.

Bucatini pasta is one of my favourite types of pasta. It is a sort of fat spaghetti which has been hollowed out; there is a hole running through the entire length.

Can you see where I am going with this? It's a bit like the scene in Lady and the Tramp, where the two love-struck dogs are sharing a plate of pasta. Except that there is just me, savouring the absolute childish pleasure of eating a big bowl of soupy noodles, using the bucatini as a straw . . .

Yes, you read that correctly. My guilty pleasure is slurping up the soup, using the pasta tubing. Some people think that this is revolting, but since I am doing this in the privacy of my own home, I don't see what's wrong with it.

Is there something wrong with it? I mean, really?

I raise a toast to all of you: thank you, thank you, thank you!

2011-12-26T06:30:00.000Z

mince pies

Christmas Poem Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light;
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.
Alfred, Lord Tennyson 1809-92
I raise a mince pie (and a glass of fizz!) to you and yours and wish you all a very happy Christmas season and a glorious new year. Thank you all for reading my blog posts this year. You have no idea how very happy it has made me!

nam prik pao (thai chilli paste)

2011-12-25T21:21:00.003Z

nam prik pao (thai chilli paste)

Cooking chillies can be lethal (as I know to my cost). I am slightly allergic to chillies, so have to make sure that I wear rubber gloves (and probably a wet suit) to prevent the pain that envelops me if chilli gets anywhere near me. But do watch out when cooking the chilli itself. The fumes can be noxious, as an unsuspecting public and Thai restaurant in central London discovered to its cost a few years ago, when it set off a terrorist alert!

I wanted to make a spicy Thai hot and sour soup (tom yum goong) to use up Christmas leftovers. Unfortunately as it turned out, we didn't have turkey in the end (which makes me very happy as I loathe the stuff), but I do have the spicy paste, which will be put to a very good use!

Thai chilli paste (nam prik pao)is a fabulous foundation of a whole number of dishes - perfect in stir fries of rice, noodles or vegetables. It makes a great dipping sauce or a topping for burger and is lovely here cooked through a spicy hot and sour soup. There's not much that isn't improved by a dollop of nam prik pao (well maybe custard perhaps, although I am sure there is some enterprising gastronaut out there prepared to prove me wrong!)

While this version isn't particularly authentic - a traditional version should contain shrimp paste and tamarind, I find this one both exceedingly easy. It has a relatively good shelf life (stored in the fridge) and is perfect for vegetarians and non-veggies alike, which helps to keep all my cooking options open!

Skill level: Easy

ingredients:
3-4 tbsp vegetable oil
3 x large garlic cloves, finely chopped
4 x shallots, finely chopped
3 x large red chillies, seeded and roughly chopped (or about 6 Birdseye chillies - depends on how hot you like it!)
150ml water
2 tbsp sugar (I use palm sugar or muscovado)

directions:

Begin by making the nam prik pao sauce. Heat a little of oil and fry the garlic over a medium heat, stirring often, until the garlic is a light golden brown. Drain the garlic and return the oil to the pan.

Reheat the oil with a little more if necessary and add the shallots. Sprinkle over a little salt in order to ensure that the shallots release their juices. Stir until softened and golden. (This should take about 10 minutes). Drain and retain any oil.

Return the oil to the pan and more if necessary. Add the chillies. Cook the chillies, stirring often, until they have darkened in colour.

Drain the chillies and place them with the cooked garlic and shallots in a blender. Add the water and sugar and puree until smooth.

it's not over 'til it's over: thai tom yum soup

2011-12-23T06:30:00.000Z

thai tom yum soup

We haven't even got Christmas out the way and I am asking you to think about leftovers. But trust me. A little preparation now will help avoid a whole world of hurt. And apart from all that, this soup can cure the mother of all Christmas hangovers. Trust me, I'm a kitchen witch and I've felt your pain and I have the cure!

I am asking you to make some Thai chilli paste (nam prik pao) right now. It is a fabulous foundation of a whole number of dishes - perfect in stir fries of rice, noodles or vegetables. It makes a great dipping sauce or a topping for burger and is lovely here cooked through a spicy hot and sour soup. There's not much that isn't improved by a dollop of nam prik pao (well maybe custard perhaps, although I am sure there is some enterprising gastronaut out there prepared to prove me wrong!)

This Thai tom yum (hot and sour) soup was originally a vegan soup I found in the New Covent Garden Soup Company's Soup and Beyond: Soups, Beans and Other Things (1999). But I do like a carnivorous version with chicken or turkey. It also works very nicely with cooked prawns, salmon, strips of beef and marinated tofu.

This is my go-to meal when I have roasted a chicken for Sunday lunch. But I am asking you to think about it this Christmas. If you are wondering what to do with your Christmas debris, the turkey carcass goes into the stockpot with some veg and herbs for a gentle simmer and to create the foundation of the soup. A little of the leftovers stripped off tops the whole dish off, making this soup a versatile and frugal meal, as well as a perfect way of dealing with Christmas leftovers.

Serves 4
Skill level: Easy
Preparation time: about 1 hour

ingredients: nam prik pao sauce (Thai chilli paste) 3-4 tbsp vegetable oil
3 x large garlic cloves, finely chopped
4 x shallots, finely chopped
3 x large red chillies, seeded and roughly chopped (or about 6 Birdseye chillies - depends on how hot you like it!)
150ml water
2 tbsp sugar (I use palm sugar or muscovado)

soup 1 tbsp vegetable oil
1 litre stock (chicken or vegetable)
1 x lemongrass stick, bruised/smashed (if using lemongrass paste, you will need about 1 tsp)
5 x kaffir lime leaves (dried ones work as well as fresh)
150g oyster mushrooms, torn into strips (or finely sliced chestnut mushrooms)
1 x carrot, peeled and cut into thin matchsticks
1 x celery stick, cut into thin matchsticks
½ x red pepper, cut into thin matchsticks
2 tbsp light soy sauce
2 tbsp fresh lime (or lemon) juice
1 tsp sugar, to taste
salt, to taste

a handful of mangetout

soup noodles (optional)

coriander leaves (to garnish)

directions:

Begin by making the nam prik pao sauce. Heat a little of oil and fry the garlic over a medium heat, stirring often, until the garlic is a light golden brown. Drain the garlic and return the oil to the pan.
Reheat the oil with a little more if necessary and add the shallots. Sprinkle over a little salt in order to ensure that the shallots release their juices. Stir until softened and golden. (This should take about 10 minutes). Drain and retain any oil.
Return the oil to the pan and more if necessary. Add the chillies. Cook the chillies, stirring often, until they have darkened in colour.
Drain the chillies and place them with the cooked garlic and shallots in a blender. Add the water and sugar and puree until smooth.
Heat the leftover oil again in the frying pan (adding a little more if necessary). Add about 2 tablespoons of the nam prik pao sauce from the blender. Stir until the sauce thickens and darkens in colour. It should be a dark, reddish brown colour.
Add the stock and stir through. Bring to the boil and then reduce to a simmer.
Add the vegetables (except for the mangetout), lemongrass and kaffir lime leaves. Gently simmer for about 10 minutes.
Add the soy sauce and lime juice and check the seasoning. You may need to add a little sugar (about 1 teaspoon) and some salt at this stage. (It will depend on how salty your stock is).
Add the cooked meat or fish if using, as well as the soup noodles and mangetout. Cook for another couple of minutes until the noodles are warmed through.
Serve garnished with a little chopped coriander.

tips:

If I am using meat or fish, I do like to use a couple of tablespoons of the uncooked nam prik pao sauce to marinate for a couple of hours (or overnight).
Substitute store-bought Thai chilli paste (nam prik pao) or tom yum paste instead of making your own.

not a thing of beauty, but a taste sensation! aromatic cauliflower soup

2011-12-08T06:30:00.000Z

aromatic cauliflower soup

Trying to be frugal this year, a tired looking cauliflower was transformed into a gloriously smooth and aromatic soup. Yes, it is a rather dreary colour, but I promise you that has a beautifully gentle and soothing effect.

I was looking for a bit of inspiration and this is adaptation of a Shaun Hill recipe (formerly of Merchant House and now of The Walnut Tree) - a man of such exquisite taste that I knew I wouldn't be able to resist it. I hope you won't either.

Serves 4
Skill level: Easy

ingredients:
2 tbsp olive oil
1 x English onion, chopped
2 x garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 tsp ground cardamom
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tsp ground cumin
1 x medium cauliflower, cut into florets (include the "heart" but dispose of the leaves)
1 x bay leaf
1 tsp saffron threads
1½ litres vegetable stock
50ml milk or 2 tbsp crème fraîche
1 tsp fresh lemon juice
a couple of shakes of Tabasco
a splash of Worcestershire sauce
salt and freshly ground black pepper
fresh parsley (or coriander) chopped, to serve

directions:

Gently fry the onions for 5 minutes until begin to soften.
Add the garlic and stir. Fry for another 2 minutes.
Add the spices (except the saffron). Stir again and continue to gently fry for another 2 minutes. Don't let the onions brown.
Add the cauliflower. Stir again and cook for another 2 to 3 minutes.
Add the stock, bay leaf and saffron threads. Bring to the boil and then simmer for 15 minutes.
Set aside and leave to cool before blending. (Do not try to blend when hot, as this can be dangerous, particularly if using a jug blender. A combination of hot soup, a build-up of steam and vibration, can cause the hot liquid to explode out of the blender. Safer to let it cool a little!)
Before blending remove the bay leaf.
After blending, you may decide to pass the soup through a sieve for extra smoothness.
Return the soup to a clean saucepan and bring back to a simmer.
Add the milk or crème fraîche and warm through.
Stir in the Worcestershire sauce, lemon juice and Tabasco. Stir and season to taste.
Sprinkle over a little chopped parsley or coriander and serve.

a perfect pasta sauce: garlicky, tomato and mushroom sauce

2011-12-05T06:30:00.000Z

garlicky tomato and mushroom sauce

I have a confession to make. I actually posted this recipe at this point last year, when I was just starting out as a food blogger. However, I didn't have a good photo of this delicious pasta sauce. Since this is something that is one of my standby sauces, I thought it would bear repeating since I often make it And I now have a photo which I defy you not to be tempted by!

This was one of the first recipes I learned to cook for myself when I first left home for university. I wasn't a particularly good cook in those days but was sure of one thing. I liked things that tasted good so there was something of an incentive to find recipes that were both cheap and very easy to prepare. So if you know a young person who has recently left home and you are worrying that they may be starving and unable to fend for themselves, this recipe is an absolute doddle!

Over the years, this sauce has become a store cupboard standby and is delicious with rice or mashed root vegetables as well as with mountains of pasta. I often make up a large batch to be frozen in smaller portions. It makes a great basis for all sorts of stews and casseroles.

Serves 4
Skill level: Easy

ingredients:
4 tbsp olive oil
1 x onion, finely chopped
3 x garlic cloves, finely chopped
250g chestnut mushrooms, thinly sliced
1x 400g tins of plum tomatoes, chopped
1 tsp sugar
1 tsp salt
2 tsp fresh marjoram or 1 tsp of dried marjoram. (Oregano can be substituted).
1 bay leaf
150ml wine (red or white)
400g spaghetti (or other pasta shapes)
Parmesan or Pecorino cheese, grated
salt and freshly ground black pepper

directions:

Heat the oil in a heavy-bottomed saucepan. Add the onion and fry gently for 2 minutes.
Add the garlic to the saucepan and continue to fry for 1 minute.
Add the sliced mushrooms. Sprinkle with a little salt and stir. Cover with a lid and fry gently for a further 5 minutes. The mushrooms will exude water and mushroom flavour into the beginnings of the sauce.
Add the chopped tomatoes, sugar, salt, bay leaf, dried marjoram if using and the remaining olive oil. Bring to the boil and then simmer gently in a covered pan for 30 minutes.
Uncover and add the fresh marjoram at this stage if using and the wine. Simmer uncovered for 15 minutes.
Check the seasoning.
At this point you can blitz up the sauce (removing the bay leav). However, I prefer a chunkier texture.
In the meantime, cook the spaghetti in plenty of salted boiling water until al dente. Drain and pour into a warmed dish.
Pour the sauce over and serve immediately.
Serve with grated Parmesan or Pecorino and an extra grinding of black pepper.

what's in season: december

2011-12-01T06:30:00.000Z

autumn leaves in a London garden
(my garden needs raking!)

I heard a bird sing
In the dark of December.
A magical thing
And sweet to remember.

"We are nearer to Spring
Than we were in September,
I heard a bird sing
In the dark of December.
Oliver Herford, 1863 - 1935

This time last year I was writing about icy winds and Arctic weather; London was snow-bound and I was greedy for warming, hearty food.

This year has been much milder; it still feels like autumn in my neck of the woods in north London. But as the weather has got colder and damper, I still crave winter warming meal packed with flavour, such as Celeriac and Stilton soup or Spicy Parsnip soup. A Beef and Ale stew is always welcome too, served with lashings of winter vegetables, whether mashed potato and lashings of buttered greens, or a puree of carrots and swede.

So now is the time to think of tasty stews and casseroles, delicious roasts and divine vegetables, from root vegetables such as parsnips and swede to leafy greens such as Brussels sprouts and kale, not forgetting my favourite "king of all cabbages" - the glorious Savoy.

vegetables, herbs and wild greens:
artichokes (Jerusalem), beetroot, broccoli (purple sprouting), Brussels sprouts, Brussels tops, cabbages (various green varieties, red and white), cardoons, carrots, cauliflower, celeriac, celery, chard, chicory, endive, greens (spring and winter), kale, leeks, onions, parsnips, potatoes, pumpkins (and squashes), swede, turnips

fruit and nuts:
apples, chestnuts, hazelnuts, pears, rhubarb (forced)
meat and game:
beef, chicken, duck (wild), goose (farmed and wild), grouse, hare, mallard, mutton, partridge, pheasant, pork, turkey, venison, wood pigeon
fish and shellfish:
cod, crab (brown and hen), hake, herring, mussels, oysters (native and rock), sea bass, shrimp, sprats, whiting

to warm the cockles of your soul: spicy parsnip soup

2011-11-28T06:30:00.000Z

spicy parsnip soup

You may not have known your soul's cockles needed warming, but even if they don't, this spicy soup will definitely give them a bit of a tune-up and put a zing in your step on a chilly day.

Last weekend I hiked up to Birmingham, to attend the BBC GoodFood Show (more of this tomorrow) and to stay with an old friend of mine from days of yore.

I hadn't seen her for a couple of years, despite frequent phone calls, so we had loads to catch up on. It was a fabulous weekend, full of great food, wine, lots of laughter and far too little sleep. (Too much to say, not enough time!)

Katy had made a fabulous parsnip soup from Nigel Slater's Tender (Volume I) book. I have yet to own a copy of this (sacrilege I know, considering my devotion to the Sainted Mr S, but hey ho). And while I adore parsnips, I am not always so fond of versions that smother their mettlesome flavour with curry spices, but this recipe really does the trick.

Parsnip's affinity with salty cheese (I have used gruyere, but you could use cheddar or parmesan), adds a soothing quality that can almost make you forget the chill outside.

Serves 4
Skill level: Easy

ingredients:
vegetable oil
butter
1 x English onion, roughly chopped
2 x large parsnips, roughly grated
2 x garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 tsp grated ginger
1 tsp chilli flakes (or to taste)
1 tsp ground turmeric
1 litre vegetable stock
salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 tsp wholegrain mustard
125ml milk or single cream
gruyere cheese, cubed

directions:

Melt a tablespoon of oil in a large heavy-based saucepan, together with a knob of butter over a moderate heat.

Add the onions, with a little salt (to draw out the liquid) and cook gently for at least 10 minutes, until the onions have softened, but not coloured.

Add the garlic, ginger and chilli flakes. Continue to cook for 2 to 3 minutes.

Add the ground turmeric and grated parsnips and stir well to ensure that the vegetables are well coated in the oil-spice mix. Cook for another 2 to 3 minutes.

Add the vegetable stock, bring to the boil and then simmer for 20 minutes.

Set aside and leave to cool before blending. (Do not try to blend when hot, as this can be dangerous, particularly if using a jug blender. A combination of hot soup, a build-up of steam and vibration, can cause the hot liquid to explode out of the blender. Safer to let it cool a little!)

Blend to a thick puree.

Add the milk or cream and check the seasoning.

Bring back to a slow simmer and stir in the wholegrain mustard.

Serve topped with the cubed cheese.

Off to BBC GoodFood Show . . .

2011-11-26T17:18:00.001Z

A trip to the Midlands to stay with friends, meet new ones and taste and talk about good food. I cannot wait!

reasons to be cheerful: celeriac and stilton soup

2011-11-24T06:30:00.000Z

celeriac and stilton soup

If I ever needed a reason to be thankful, it is to the happy accident that led to the discovery of blue cheese. A combination of conditions, bacteria and man's willingness not to be put off by a bit of mould, means that we now have a whole gamut of piquant blue cheeses that taste fabulous and cook beautifully. It is yet again another example of serendipity in the world of food. Happy days!

Celeriac, to the uninitiated, looks like something you would see on an episode of Dr Who - it has a somewhat alien appearance - a bit like Bill Nighy as Davy Jones, in Pirates of the Caribbean. But don't be put off by its tentacle-like roots. Celeriac has both an intensely celery flavour, with a hint of smokiness and goes beautifully with tangy blue cheese.

Serves 4
Skill level: Easy

ingredients:
50g butter
1 x medium English onion, finely chopped
1-2 x garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 x medium celeriac (about 750g to 1kg), peeled and roughly chopped
1 litre stock (vegetable or chicken)
250ml milk
100ml white wine (optional)
1 x bay leaf
1 x sprig of fresh thyme (or half tsp dried thyme)
250g Stilton, crumbled (set a little aside to garnish the soup)
salt and freshly ground black pepper

directions:

Melt the butter in a heavy based saucepan and add the onion. Cook over a gentle heat for 5 to 10 minutes, until softened.
Add the garlic and celeriac. Stir and cook for a further 5 minutes.
Add the stock and white wine and bring to the boil.
Reduce to a simmer and add the bay leaf and thyme. Cover with a lid and simmer for 25 minutes.
Set aside and leave to cool before blending. (Do not try to blend when hot, as this can be dangerous, particularly if using a jug blender. A combination of hot soup, a build-up of steam and vibration, can cause the hot liquid to explode out of the blender. Safer to let it cool a little!)
Before blending remove the bay leaf and if using a sprig of thyme the woody stem.
After blending, you may decide to pass the soup through a sieve for extra smoothness.
Return the soup to a clean saucepan and bring back to a simmer.
Add the milk and warm through.
Add the crumbled Stilton and stir continuously until the cheese has melted into the soup. Do not let the soup boil as it may curdle.
Check the seasoning. It is unlikely you will need any salt as the Stilton will be quite salty.
Serve with a little of the stilton crumbled over each bowl.

tips:

Add matchsticks of chopped apple to the soup before serving adds a tart but sweet contrast to the soup.
Top with a little sliced celery for added crunch.
Replace the celeriac with a head of celery, chopped and a medium potato, to add a little bulk to the soup.
I like to use most blue cheeses with this soup, such as Wensleydale, Stichelton, Gorgonzola or Roquefort. I particularly like using a blue Brie or Cambozola as I particularly like the way the rind turns into a sort of cheese "toffee" through heating. It is not to everyone's taste!
This soup can be served chilled, with a swirl of cream.
Replace the white wine, with white port for extra sumptuousness.

stir-up sunday: make mincemeat and make a wish!

2011-11-20T06:30:00.000Z

mincemeat

Stir up, we beseech thee, the pudding in the pot
Stir up, we beseech thee, and keep it all hot.
One of my culinary New Year's resolutions for 2011 was that I was going to be much more organised this year, particularly around preserving and pickling. Last year I didn't get around to making mincemeat until the week before Christmas and by that time was actually a bit mince-pied out . . . so we were still eating mincemeat in various incarnations in April! This year I was determined to get my mincemeat in early, and in fact made mine about a month ago.

But today is Stir-Up Sunday, the day traditionally identified as the day to make your cake, pudding and mincemeat for Christmas, to give all three time to mature.

"Stir up, we beseech thee, O Lord, the wills of thy faithful people; that they, plenteously bringing forth the fruit of good works, may of thee be plenteously rewarded; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."
The words (the "collect") are actually taken from the Book of Common Prayer and are read in Anglican churches on the last Sunday before Advent. Since Christmas cake, pudding and mincemeat need time to stand and mature, the words of the prayer became a timely reminder that it was time to start baking and preserving, also ensuring that local shops had all the ingredients in stock.

Mincemeat is an absolute doddle to make and while many of the shop-bought versions are very good, I love the taste and texture of the one I make myself.

If you haven't made your mincemeat yet, do not fret. The mincemeat really needs a couple of weeks to mature (so there is still time) but in fact you can use it when it is freshly made, but the flavours won't be quite so entrenched.

It is also worth bearing in mind that mincemeat is not just for making mincepies. How about baking some apples stuffed with mincemeat, or making a mincemeat crumble traybake, or go savoury and stuff a pork loin with the mix.

And remember, it was traditional for the whole family to get involved in making the mincemeat. Each member should stir the mix at least once and make a wish!

Skill level: Easy
Preparation time: 30 minutes (plus at least 2 weeks maturation time)
Serves: 3 x 450 js of mincemeat

ingredients:
200g currants
200g raisins
120g sultanas
100g dried sour cherries
50g dried barberries or cranberries
125g mixed peel, finely chopped
125g ground almonds
175g shredded suet (beef or vegetarian)
250g soft brown sugar
2 tsp mixed spice
½ tsp freshly grated nutmeg
grated zest and juice of 1 lemon
grated zest and juice of 1 orange
1 x Bramley or cooking apple, cored and finely chopped (peeling optional)
4 tbsp brandy

directions:

Add all of the ingredients to a large mixing bowl, except the brandy.
Stir well to ensure that all of the ingredients are well mixed and evenly distributed.
Cover with a clean tea towel and leave overnight in a cool place.
Stir again and add the brandy. Stir again.
Fill sterilised jars with the mincemeat. You will need to cover this with a wax disc and a lid. The mincemeat will keep for about a year, in a cool dark place.
Alternatively, if you are using the mincemeat within a few weeks, put the mixture in airtight containers and put in the fridge.
The mixture does need to mature for about 2 weeks to allow the flavours to develop, although you can use it immediately if you prefer.

kari therakkal; a south indian lamb curry

2011-11-15T06:30:00.000Z

my lamb therakkal

As you may know I recently visited an Indian restaurant in London that literally rocked me to my core with their beautifully exciting curries. I love Babur. And I love it so much that I have been back since (more of this another time). I was lucky enough to finagle one of their recipes from them. admittedly there was nothing devious about my approach. I asked for a recipe and they gave. Because that's the sort of lovely people they are!

What they gave me is a recipe from their South Indian Celebration menu, which is available until 30 November. I would urge you to go to Babur to try this menu as it because it was simply sublime. Babur have also gone to the effort to pair each of the dishes on this menu with a series of really interesting beers, which in the case of the Lamb Therakkal was a Belgian beer, Chimay Blue - "an authentic Trappist beer with a light, rosy, flowery aroma and agreeable caramel notes". It was an inspired pairing.

But if you can't get down to Babur, then here is a taster of what they do. I have to say that their version was definitely superior. (Ain't that always the way!) I haven't managed to achieve their subtle yet complex flavours . . . well not quite. But this still tastes pretty good; a hearty lamb curry of ginger, coconut, turmeric, cardamom, fennel seeds and lots of black pepper. Perhaps it was missing the thick slithers of coconut fried in coconut oil of the original. (This was for me a bit of a revelation and rather delicious - the frying seemed to bring out the essential nuttiness of the coconut rather than its sweetness).

But cooking this kind of food is right up my street. I had originally described it as bein unsophisticated and the sort of meal that "mummyji" used to make. What I mean by that is that there is nothing refined about this dish; it is really peasant cooking at its best, which I suspect is
appealing to the Irish and Scottish peasant that lives within me.

On another note, I really liked the way that you parboil the meat in turmeric before stewing, reserving the cooking liquid for the body of the curry. It added so much flavour and kept the lamb beautifully moist.

Serve with a nutty brown rice or an aromatic kitchiri (a combination of basmati rice and lentils) for added texture.

ingredients:
500g leg or shoulder of lamb, diced (about 2 cm)
salt
2 tsp ground turmeric
3 tbsp coconut oil
1 x large piece of cassia bark (or substitute a cinnamon stick, snapped in half)
3-4 x bay leaves
4-5 x curry leaves
3-4 x green cardamom pods (lightly crushed)
4-5 x fennel seeds
3 x red onions, thinly sliced
2 x garlic cloves, very finely chopped
2 tsp grated ginger (or ginger paste)
1 tbsp ground coriander
1 tsp ground cumin
ground chilli (to taste)
freshly ground black pepper
6 x ripe tomatoes, chopped (you could use a tin of tomatoes instead)
100 ml coconut milk
4-5 x shallots, cut in half, thinly sliced and fried until soft and a light brown, to serve (optional)
fresh coriander, finely chopped, to serve (optional)

directions:

Place the lamb in a large saucepan and enough lightly salted water to cover by about 1 centimetre. Add 1 teaspoon of ground turmeric and stir. Bring to the boil, and then reduce to a simmer. Simmer for about 20 minutes. Then strain off the lamb, but reserve at least 250 millilitres of the cooking liquid.
Heat 3 tablespoons of coconut oil in a large heavy-based frying pan. Add the dry ingredients - the cassia bark (or cinnamon stick), bay leaves, curry leaves, crushed cardamom pods and the fennel seeds. Stir so that the spices are well coated with the coconut oil and are beginning to release their flavours into the oil.
Add the red onions, garlic and grated ginger (or ginger paste) to the spices and stir well to coat. Fry on a medium heat until the onion has begun to soften and brown, stirring often. This will take between 5 and 10 minutes.
Once the onion has begun to darken slightly, then reduce the heat to a simmer and add the strained lamb, together with 1 teaspoon of ground turmeric, 1 tablespoon of ground coriander, 1 tsp ground cumin and chilli powder to taste (I like 1 teaspoon but you can use less!). Stir well to combine.
Add the reserved cooking liquid (about 250 millilitres) and stir well.
Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to a simmer and cook for 10 minutes.
Add the chopped tomatoes and cook for a further 10 minutes.
Stir in the coconut milk and simmer until the meat is very soft, adding water if needed. (This can be anything from 5 to 10 minutes - it is very forgiving!)
Check the seasoning. At this stage I add a lot of ground black pepper and then finish the dish with chopped coriander. Caramelised shallots (and fried coconut) is optional.
Serve with brown rice or kichiri.

Baby it's cold outside . . . so welcome to a warm pie embrace! a traditional steak and ale pie

2011-11-14T06:30:00.000Z

steak and ale stew

What could be more welcoming on a cold wet autumn night than a beef and ale stew? Actually, a beef and ale pie is even better. I think my love for puff pastry is well-known and the combination of light, buttery and crisp puff pastry with an intensely savoury stew is richly satisfying; a perfect homely pie to banish away the drizzlin' blues.

While I don't think that "life is too short to stuff a mushroom" as Shirley Conran famously, if foolishly, said, I do think there are other culinary-related scenarios where I would rather use the time spent doing something else . . . making two courses instead of one, baking a loaf of bread or just chatting to friends and quaffing more wine.

Puff pastry is one of those things. I can make it but I would rather use a good ready-made version. In this case, Sainsbury's have a ready-rolled ready-made version. And very nice it was too; beautifully buttery and browned to perfection. (And at £1.25 excellent value as well).
Use your favourite beef stew recipe, or (please, please, please) my beef stew cooked with Guinness.

Skill level: Easy

ingredients:
steak and ale stewready-made puff pastry
water
1 x egg, beaten with a little milk

directions:

Preheat the oven to 200C / Gas Mark 6.
Fill an ovenproof dish with the steak and ale stew. It will need to be piled "high" in order to support the pastry.
Brush the edge of the dish with water. (You can also cut thin strips of pastry - about 1 cm wide - to go around the rim of the dish. For 900ml pie you will need about 4 to 5 strips).
Roll out the pastry using as little flour as possible and place over the dish. Since I was using ready-rolled pastry this was unnecessary!
Dampen the pastry strips if using.
Drape the pastry over a rolling pin and then roll it over the filled dish.
Press the surfaces together to form a join between the pastry strips and the pastry lid.
Trim off any of the pastry overhanging around the edge. Press down with the back of a knife to seal. Crimp to decorate the rim of the pastry (using the back of a knife to "knock up" the edge, or using the tines of a fork to press into the pastry or using your fingers to create a twisted rope effect.
Use the trimmings to decorate the top of the pie. (Making pastry leaves is usually a quick and easy decoration to make - good for those of us with less-than-artistic abilities!)
Prick the pastry with either a fork or a sharp knife (to allow steam to escape).
Brush the top with a glaze made with the beaten egg with a little milk. (The milk prevents the glaze from becoming too brown in the oven).
Brush the pastry top thoroughly with the remaining beaten egg (mixed with a little milk) and place the dish on a baking tray in the oven.
Bake in the oven for 20 to 30 minutes until the pastry is golden brown on top.
Serve with buttery mashed potato and green vegetables - peas or Savoy cabbage would be my choice!

tips:

After glazing, sprinkle over some finely grated Parmesan cheese or fresh thyme leaves.
To freeze, make the recipe up until the point were the pie is glazed and before baking. Wrap the uncooked pie in greaseproof paper and freeze. When using - thaw at room temperature. Glaze the pastry and cook as above - although it may take another 5 to 10 minutes longer to cook.

a spice biscuit scented with eastern promise

2011-11-11T06:30:00.000Z

ginger snaps with added oomph!

I have always loved ginger biscuits, in fact any kind of spice biscuit. They are perfumed with adventure and history; pungent with the sweep of the trade winds and the Spice Islands. At medieval fairs, “fairings” (small ginger biscuits) were sold as treats for children and sweetheart's love tokens.

Christmas feasts across Europe are scented with simple spice biscuits, from Dutch Speculaas eaten on St Nicholas Eve (5 December) to German Pfeffernüsse, Polish Pierniki and Danish Pebernødder. Sweden has its Pepparkakor and on Epiphany (January 6) Piparkakut are eaten in Finland.
So whether it is the thin melt-in-your mouth type or a chewy little ginger number that is best accompanied by a mug of strong builders' tea, I love them all, although have never made one. What I wanted was something, a bit like a Cornish fairing or a gingersnap - something that was crackled and crisp on the outside and slightly chewy on the inside.

Many English spice biscuits and cake recipes require "mixed spice" - a combination of cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, mace, coriander, allspice and cloves. I had wondered whether it was possible to substitute other classic spice blends with mixed spice. It was time to experiment.

Strangely, the first idea I had was to cook a parsnip cake with quatre epices, a French spice blend of pepper, ginger, cloves and nutmeg; (sometimes also including cinnamon and allspice, depending on whether it is used in French sausages or in gingerbread). The results were quite successful, although I need to tweak the recipe a bit before posting here, so watch this space.

So take garam masala spice mix. Garam masala is a popular blend from the Indian sub continent and contains a varying mixture of pepper, cardamom, cloves, ginger, cumin, cinnamon and nutmeg. Would it be such a leap of the imagination to go from using mixed spice, to quatre epices to say garam masala? Well, the proof would be in the biscuit.

I do find some biscuits a little too sweet for my taste, so I had decided to add some lemon zest to my prototype spice biscuits. However a trawl of the pantry only turned up a few dried sour fruits (cherries and barberries). Other possible sour notes were a variety of vinegars and a tub of tamarind paste. Some old English cake recipes use cider vinegar as a raising agent instead of using eggs. Since I wasn't sure what the chemical and physical properties of using vinegar in my biscuits would be (knowing my luck they would raise up and make a bid for freedom from their oven prison). So erring, on the side of caution, this left the tamarind paste. A quick dip of a finger into the paste confirmed that it was eye-wateringly tart. Perfect.

Tamarind is commonly used in south East Asian cooking, from sweet and sour fish, to stir fries and on to sticky sweets. My upbringing in Malaysia and return to England, seemed to me to give this recipe a degree of synchronicity, or not . . .

Biscuits are baked. They are very crisp but slightly chewy on the inside. (Although the few that were left over did soften up after a few days without going stale).They were beautifully crackled, which was exciting for me as I had never cooked a crackled biscuit before and it just seemed to happen without me even doing anything! The sour cherries and barberries added a pleasant tart and chewy note and all-in-all I was rather pleased with the result.

I was actually feeling quite smug. I felt as if I had "invented" something, created using a bit of imagination and family history. I have to say that this sense of self-satisfaction went firmly back into a dark box where it belongs, when I saw the incomparable Dan Lepard's recipe Tamarind Spice biscuits in the Guardian Newspaper's Magazine. Curses!

What I had thought was a recipe born of opportunity and my own personal history turned out to lack any originality at all. And if I am honest, Dan Lepard's version was much better than mine. I know 'cos I tried his. Instead of sour fruit, he had included glacé ginger, which packed an extra spicy ginger punch. Genius.

Skill level: Easy

ingredients:
125g butter, softened
250g caster sugar
25g tamarind paste
1 medium egg
3 tsp ground ginger
2 tsp garam masala
200g chopped glacé ginger (or crystallised ginger)
250g plain flour (or a gluten-free mix)
¾ tsp bicarbonate of soda

directions:

Beat the softened butter with the sugar and tamarind. When beginning to smooth, add the egg and continue to beat until smooth.
Sift the flour together with the bicarbonate of soda and the spices.
Fold it into the mixture and ensure that it is well distributed.
Stir in the chopped ginger.
Pre-heat the oven to 170C / Gas Mark 3.
Take lumps of the biscuit mixture, about the size of small walnuts. Roll into a ball. (You might find this easier if your hands are slightly dampened).
Put them on a baking tray, lined with baking parchment, about 5 centimetres apart (as the biscuits will spread when they are cooking).
While Dan Lepard said cook for 15 minutes, a trial batch of 3 biscuits in my oven only took 12 minutes. I think it is worth doing a trial run, and then you, the cook, get to road test the biscuits while the next batch is cooking. (For research purposes only, of course!)
Half-way through cooking, turn them in the oven, as this will ensure they cook evenly. You can also give the tray a sharp tap on a work surface before putting the biscuits back in the oven, as that will ensure the biscuits both spread and crackle.

tips:

Don't do what I did, which was to put half the biscuit mixture in the fridge, while cooking the first batch. While they were lovely and chewy, the biscuits made with a cold mixture remained quite small and ball-shaped, with little crackle. Still tasted good though.
I do think that the glacé or crystallised ginger is quite a grown-up flavour and may be a little bitter for younger palates, where my first idea of using sour fruits or even raisins or sultanas would be a good substitution.

boum-boum sausages

2011-11-07T06:30:00.000Z

boum-boum sausages

It is said that to be truly happy, you should take pleasure in the small things in life. There is no doubt that I am really enjoying the process of emptying my freezer since I keep finding little frozen nuggets of unexpected pleasure.

A small plastic box contained six small patties of . . . who knew what? They looked suspiciously like my fish cakes, but lacked any fishy smell. On defrosting it was quickly apparent that they contained breadcrumbs and some peculiarly dark flecks of something that I couldn't identify. I was baffled; I had no memory of making them. (Note to self - remember to label everything!)

I quickly fried the cakes up in a hot pan and when lightly browned, bit into one . . . oh . . . how utterly lovely! They were in fact a variation of Glamorgan sausages, which I had padded out with the leftover gravy of a Bolognaise sauce. There had only been a few tablespoons left over, which were hardly worth keeping - more sauce that "Bol", but I am loathe to throw anything away and I thought that there must be something I could add this herby-garlic-tomato-wine sauce to.

So I took some breadcrumbs and added the sauce. It tasted nice but something was missing. So I caramelised some finely chopped onions (ah this is what those dark flecks were!) and then crumbled some cooked bacon to the mix. Some small cubes of Emmental added to mix completed what I was now regarding as my sort of deconstructed Croque Monsieur.

The results were delicious and these little patties would make perfect party food, served hot. They are definitely not so nice when they have cooled down, not that these got much of a chance to do that!

So why Boum-Boum?

I had thought that since these were a variation of Glamorgan sausages, that perhaps I could find a French name for my sausage-like creation. Trying to find a region in France that was not already associated with a traditional sausage was out of the question; certainly beyond my skills and wanting to keep a hold of my sanity I decided to go down a different route.

I have learned that there is a variation of the Croque Monsieur, the Croque Boum-Boum; where a layer of Bolognese sauce is sandwiched between the ham and cheese of the Croque Monsieur sandwich.

Result! And I hope that you agree that a bit like the John Lee Hooker song, Boom Boom, that these Boum-Boum sausages can "knock you out, right off your feet. Yeah!"

Serves 4

Skill level: Easy

Preparation time: 1 hour (including optional chilling time)

ingredients:

vegetable oil or butter (or a mixture of the two)

200g dried breadcrumbs, 50g of which are for coating the sausages

3-4 tbsp leftover pasta sauce (such as Bolognese)

1 x English onion, finely chopped

2 x rashers of smoked bacon

100g Emmental or Gruyere cheese, cubed

1 tbsp fresh parsley, finely chopped

salt and freshly ground black pepper

2tsp Dijon mustard

2 x large eggs (or 3 x medium), whisked (set aside about 2 tbsp of whisked egg to use for coating the sausages)

directions:

Mix together 150g of the breadcrumbs (save 50g or so in order to coat the sausages) in a bowl with the leftover pasta sauce. Add enough to moisten and set aside for 5 minutes. You may need to add more pasta sauce or a tablespoon of milk. The mix needs to be moist but not wet.
Fry the onion gently in little olive oil until a golden brown colour. Stir occasionally. This can take anything from 10 to 15 minutes. Don't let them burn!
Grill or fry the bacon (which usually takes 3 to 4 minutes each side, then chop roughly and add to the breadcrumb mixture.
Add the cooked onion, cheese and chopped parsley to the breadcrumb mixture and combine well. Set aside for 10 minutes or so to ensure that the mixture is cool, before adding the whisked egg. (You don't want the mixture to cook the egg at this stage).
Before adding the egg, stir in the mustard and season to taste. Set aside about 2 tablespoons of the egg mixture in order to coat the sausages later. Stir the rest of the egg mixture and make sure that it is mixed well.
If the mixture is too dry add a little milk, but don’t let the mixture become too runny. If it is too runny then add more breadcrumbs!
Divide the mixture into about 8 balls (although you may get more) and then shape each into a long sausage shape (about 8cm long and 2½cm wide). You will probably need to do this by partially rolling the mixture on a hard clean surface (I use a breadboard) and shaping them to keep them together as they will be a bit fragile and prone to falling apart.
Put the egg mixture in a shallow bowl; put the leftover breadcrumbs on a plate.
Take each sausage and dip it in the egg mixture and then roll in the crumbs.
Chill the sausages in the fridge for about 30 minutes, to firm them up before cooking.
Fry the sausages in the oil or butter. To fry the sausage, heat the butter or oil in the frying pan for 5 minutes, Turn half way through. Turn the heat down and continue to fry for another 3 minutes.
These sausages can be grilled. Drizzle with a little melted butter and grill under a preheated grill until brown on all sides. Be careful when turning them.

tip:

Bind with egg as above, but use it all. Use a beaten an egg white to roll the sausages in before coating with breadcrumbs. It helps the breadcrumbs stick effectively and gives a nice crunchy texture.

a hearty autumn stew: sausage and pumpkin awash with spices!

2011-11-04T06:30:00.000Z

sausage and pumpkin stew

Autumn is my favourite time of year. I love the smell and colours of the year as abundance fades away; dormant until the new beginnings of spring. At the moment my garden is an abstract painting of fallen leaves, rusty orange, muted yellow and faded red. At this time of year I am also keen on meals, that leave the sunshine simplicity of summer cooking and heartiIy banish away the grey drizzle of an autumn chill. I want a dish of strong and complex flavours, full of warming spices to keep the gloom at bay.

I am also still on a mission to run-down my freezer in the run-up to Christmas. A pack of Sainsburys' Butchers Choice Cumberland sausages (one of the only things that was identifiable in the frozen morass that is my freezer) were the next defrosted ingredient to provide the mainstay of a comforting autumnal stew of pumpkin and white beans.

I have often mentioned that I have rarely met a sausage I didn't like . . . that is to say, a well-made sausage, with good combination of quality meat and fat (yes, the fat is essential), with a small amount of padding (breadcrumbs or rusk to help the meat bind together) and a judicious amount of herb and spices.

Sadly, in the UK, there have been some absolute travesties on offer over the past 30 years or so on as to what constitutes a good British banger, with manufacturers fobbing us off with products alleged to be sausages but which have little flavour and probably less real meat in them. Fortunately, in the last few years, there has been a revival of quality sausages, but even there I can find fault, with sausages that are actually overly-herby and so jammed packed with "premium" ingredients, ((you know the kind of thing - made with rarebreed meat and herbs handpicked by virgins by the light of a silvery moon), as to be frankly inedible.

The lovely chaps at Sainsbury's PR had sent me a pack of their Butchers Choice Cumberland Sausages to try. We had them for breakfast, and the few that were left over in a sausage sandwich and I have to say, I really liked them. These are not part of their premium range of sausages but they were absolutely perfect in a good English breakfast and as a sandwich filling with lashings of mustardy mayonnaise. A traditional Cumberland sausage should be slightly peppery with a bit of a cayenne kick and these definitely were all that, without being overwhelming.

I liked them so much, that I went out and bought another couple of packs; which at £1.65 each (for eight sausages), was I thought very good value. I put them in the freezer, and then as ever, prompty forgot about them.

And a propos of this, it was British Sausage Week last week and if you want more information about sausages and recipes from the Love Pork people, have a look here.

Serves 4
Skill level: Easy
Preparation time: 1 hour

ingredients:
3 tbsp olive oil
a knob of butter
8 sausages
1-2 x onions, finely sliceda
2 x garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 tsp ground ginger
1 x red chilli, finely chopped
1 tsp ground cumin
1 x small pumpkin (or butternut squash), peeled and de-seeded, cut into chunks about 2 cm long
1 x tin of tomatoes, chopped
1 x tin of cannelini of butter beans, drained and rinsed
1 tsp dried thyme (or 2-3 sprigs of fresh thyme)
250-450ml stock (chicken or vegetable) or water salt and freshly ground black pepper
a small handful of fresh flatleaf parsley, finely chopped, to serve

directions:

Take a large heavy-based frying pan and heat 1 tablespoon of olive oil over a medium heat. Add the onion and fry gently for about 5 minutes, until they are golden brown all over. Set aside.
Heat 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a large, heavy-based pan over a medium heat. When hot, add the butter and then the onion, garlic, ground ginger and chilli. Stir and cook for about 5 minutes.Add the cumin, pumpkin, tomatoes, beans and about 250 mililitres of the stock and bring to the boil. Turn the heat down and add the sausages. Cover and simmer for about 20 minutes. If the the stew looks as if it is drying out, then add a little more stock or water.
To serve, ladle the stew into bowls and sprinkle over a little of the chopped parsley, with rice or couscous to accompany.

tips:

Use pork chops instead of sausages.
Add a little crumbled black pudding or chopped chorizo to the stew.
Replace the pumpkin with chunks of potato, as they absorb the spice flavours really well.
For more of a middle eastern vibe, make up a little serving sauce of yoghurt, topped with chopped mint and pomegranate seeds.

what's in season: november

2011-11-01T06:30:00.000Z

the last of this year's
ruby chard

november night
Listen . . .
With faint dry sound,
Like steps of passing ghosts,
The leaves, frost-crisp'd, break from the trees
And fall.
Adelaide Crapsey, 1878 - 1914

Now is the time to start searching out game, the seaon of which is now in full swing. Actually sourcing game should actually be easier for us city dwellers, since supermarkets such as Budgens and Marks & Spencers have started selling it; (as a result of a change in the law. Hurrah!) Although while I may be looking for partridge, pheasant and pigeon, I think I may have to draw a line at squirrel!

Sadly, my favourite tender vegetable crops are disappearing as the first frosts appear in November, but it is not all doom and gloom. This is a good month for hardier vegetables such as cabbage, cauliflower, carrots, leeks, parsnips, potatoes and sprouts as well as traditional British fruits such as apples and pears. And keep an eye out for my favourite quinces. Not only do they taste good (in cakes and crumbles or as an accompaniment to game, lamb and pork), but uncooked, their fragrance will actually imbue your house with enticing fruit aromas.

vegetables, herbs and wild greens:
artichokes (globe), artichokes (Jerusalem), beetroot, borlotti beans (for podding), broccoli (calabrese), Brussels sprouts, Brussels tops, cabbages (various green varieties, red and white), cardoons, carrots, cauliflower, celeriac, celery, chard, chicory, endive, greens (spring and winter), leeks, lettuce, nettles, onions, oyster mushrooms, parsnips, potatoes, pumpkins (and squashes), salsify, swede, turnips, watercress, wood blewits

fruit and nuts:
apples, chestnuts, cranberries, hazelnuts, medlars, pears, quinces, raspberries, rosehips, sloes, walnuts

meat and game:
beef, chicken, goose (wild), grouse, hare, mallard, mutton, partridge, pheasant, pork, rabbit, turkey, wood pigeon

fish and shellfish:
cockles, cod, crab (brown and hen), hake, herring, lobster, mackerel, mussels, oysters (native and rock), prawns, scallops, sea bass, shrimp, sprats, squid, whiting

tartare sauce-inspired fish cakes

2011-10-27T06:30:00.000+01:00

tartare sauce inspired fish cakes

I am on a mission to empty my freezer before Christmas and unfortunately it means I am discovering frozen foods that one I didn't know I had (or frankly didn't remember - that case of out of sight, now out of mind) or unidentified things in Tupperware that I can't remember freezing and once defrosted have no ideal why I had kept them in the first place, apart from some ingrained sense of thrift. I suspect that this latter scenario is something to do with a combination of the current economic climate and being the child of people who themselves were brought up during an era of austerity and rationing.

So in running down the freezer, I discovered a whole section of fish. Something from the back, Madam? There are several slabs of fish that I have no memory of putting there and for the life of me can't remember why . . . why didn’t I just cook them at the time?

Well, too late to worry about that now. Can I present you with exhibit A from the frozen nether regions of my Beko - the first to be defrosted was a large slab of white fish, that frankly hadn’t enjoyed it's time in icy conditions. It was looking a bit ragged - a think this is what is known as "freezer burn". But loathe to throw anything away and feeling virtuously frugal I decided to turn it (probably haddock) into fish cakes.

Fish cakes are one of the most comforting of dishes, something that can be turned into something richly unctuous and perfect for a cold autumn day, or gussied up with chilli and lime with hints of the Far East and a summer feast.

So for my comforting autumn meal I decided to combine the fish with some of my favourite ingredients, the things that go into a tartare sauce - capers, gherkins and lemon zest.
I'm not going to tell you how to mash potatoes, because in theory this is a great recipe for using leftover mash. All I would say is that many recipes for mash will use milk and I would suggest that if you are going to use leftover mash, set some aside before adding the milk. The reason for this is that otherwise your mixture will be too limp! (If you don't have any mash ready-made then bake a few potatoes beforehand and scoop out their insides).

Skill level: Easy
Serves 3

ingredients:
250g white fish (haddock, pollack or sole - try to avoid fish that are on the endangered list such as cod or halibut)
poaching liquid:
milk
1 x garlic clove, smashed
1 x small onion, quartered
1 x celery stick, roughly chopped
2 x bay leaves
6 x black peppercorns

about 250g buttery mashed potato (floury baking potatoes such as King Edwards or Desiree are best)
olive oil and butter
2 x onions, finely chopped
a sprig of fresh thyme
2 x bay leaves
2-3 tbsp fresh parsley, finely chopped
1 tbsp finely chopped gherkins (about 3 or 4 small gherkins/cornichons)
1 tbsp finely chopped capers
zest of 1 lemon, finely chopped
1 x egg yolk (try to keep the egg white for something else . . . they do freeze well!)
salt and freshly ground black pepper

coating:
plain flour
1 x egg, beaten
dried bread crumbs

directions:

Poach the fish in the milk with the poaching ingredients for about 10 minutes, and then set aside to cool. When cool, drain. (You can keep the poaching liquid for something else, perhaps making a fishy sauce).
Add a trickle of olive oil and a small knob of butter to a frying pan over a medium heat.
Once this has melted add the onions salt, pepper, thyme and bay leaves and cover with a lid. Cook over a low heat for about 10 minutes - the onion should be soft, but not brown.
Pick the bay leaves out of the mixture.
Mix the onion mixture with the mashed potato and leave to cool.
Add the parsley, gherkins, capers, flaked fish and egg yolk and stir well to combine. Season with a little more salt and pepper.
Create the fishcakes by moulding balls of the mixture (about 70g) and flattening them out. At this stage I would then put them in the fridge to firm up for about 30 minutes.
Dip each fishcake in flour, beaten egg and bread crumbs.
You can either deep fry Deep fry in vegetable oil (about 180C) for about 3 to 4 minutes until golden brown. However, I like to shallow fry mine for about 1 to 2 minutes on each side and then move to the oven (at about 160C) for another 10 to 15 minutes - as they fluff up a bit in the oven.
Serve with a tartare sauce and peas, or with a spicy tomato sauce.

tips:

A tartare sauce would be my favourite accompaniment. A cheat's version is to take a good store-bought mayonnaise (Hellmanns or Sainsburys French Mayonnaise are good) and add a little lemon juice, chopped gherkins and capers, salt and pepper and perhaps a little chopped red pepper.
A tart, sorrel sauce makes a good accompaniment when in season.
For a more peppery sauce make one using watercress.

a truly chilling ice cream - perfect for halloween parties!

2011-10-25T06:30:00.000+01:00

toxic swamp ice-cream for
little monsters everywhere!

Sainsbury's had sent me their new spooky ice cream to sample - Toxic Swamp, a limited edition ice cream available for only three weeks from 12 October. It was created by nine year old Christopher George from Hampshire, winner of the I-Scream competition to devise a creepy ice cream for Halloween.

I decided to do a mini-taste test, on the basis that I probably wasn't the ice cream's demographic (being neither a parent nor a child). I knew my marketing background would come in useful one day!

My friend, Mother Guinea Pig, came around with her ten year old son, Master Guinea Pig, for lunch. Mother GP is one of those mothers who doesn't want her child to be defiled by food additives, chemicals, artificial colouring and half a hundred weight of sugar. I would totally agree with this. But I was a bit taken aback when she folded her arms, fixed me with a basilisk glare, and said "Much as I love you, Kelly, you're not going to poison us, are you?" As if!

Master GP was out in the garden, tormenting the cat. When I say tormenting, what I mean is that he was trying to make friends with her. Unfortunately she is a spinster cat of particular habits, which promptly had a fit of the vapours and lodged herself firmly under the garden swing, refusing to entertain my young guest as if he was some kind of miniature hound from hell.

So Master GP had returned to the kitchen to see if something more interesting was happening, only to overhear Mother GP's disapproving comments as we stood looking at the clear plastic container of what looked like pale green ice-cream. "Cooooooooooooooool" he said. I thought this was a good thing, although from the withering look his mother gave me, it was quite probable that she didn't feel the same way. Master GP was also anointed with cat scratches and apparently had a small bump on his head (from hitting it on the swing, while trying to stroke the menopausal cat from hell). I felt that I should try and make it up to him in some way, although I knew I was probably about to get a lecture from Mother GP on not rewarding children with food. But hey, my house, my rules.

While I am not a mother, I am also guessing in that way of perverse way that kids have, that if you (the alleged adult) suggest that something is probably not good for them, it makes them want it more. It seemed that Master GP was chomping at the bit and more than happy to taste something that was described as a "cool mint flavoured toxic sludge, with swirls of strawberry ‘zombie blood’ and white chocolate ‘crunchy broken bones’. His mother made me taste it first, despite my protests that it wasn't aimed at me and that despite it's truly pretty pale green colour - a sort of 1930s eau de nil, that I am averse to mint flavours, always associating them with toothpaste. (Not that there is anything wrong with mint toothpaste, I just find overwhelming mint flavours difficult to deal with. Seriously, I was the kid that played with After Eight wrappers, after everyone else had eaten the contents!)

Clearly I had to show willing and had a taste. It was . . . interesting . . . tasted of mint. Actually a good, creamy and fresh flavour. There was the interesting addition of the fruit puree and of course, bits of white chocolate. (OK, I have to confess, I am not and never have been a fan of white chocolate . . . even as a kid . . . I know, it's unnatural!)

Mother GP was pleasantly surprised. It turns out she likes mint and white chocolate. Master GP was in seventh heaven. This is the child that tells me that most of my food is rubbish, apart from my home made bread. But that at least this time "Even you couldn't ruin it, Aunt Rachel" . . . out of the mouths of babes!

Deciding that my research wasn't quantitative enough, I went round to Heathcliffe's as he's a chap who is always open to new experiences, tastes and flavours and is probably far more in touch with his inner child than I am.

His response was that it "tastes a bit like face cream smells" . . . which I thought was bang on. It does have a flavour of the "dressing-up box" about it! Heath also thought it was "so wrong it's kinda of right" . . . and after several trips back to the freezer, we had finished the lot!

So if you're looking for an icy treat for your little monsters over Halloween, then Toxic Swamp, made with fresh British milk and cream, no artificial colourings or flavouring, then I think this is probably and ice cream to scream for!

beware! here be ice dragons . . .

2011-10-17T06:30:00.000+01:00

William Eggleston: Untitled c. 1971-1973

I have a slight fear of icebergs. Odd, I know, especially since I have never been anywhere near one, there being a dearth of random ice formations in north London. But then having said that, I have a friend who is so afraid of Great White Sharks that he will never go into the sea, not even to paddle, not even in Southend.

So there is something about icebergs that I find absolutely terrifying. Their austere beauty fills me with awe but it also fills me with a sense of fear and horror that is really quite dizzying. Just how I feel when I look at the contents of my small freezer . . .

I had decided a few weeks ago that I should start running down the freezer in order to get ready for Christmas. Last year my seasonal preparations were completely slapdash and last minute. I didn't make my mincemeat until the week before Christmas (and we were eating the damned stuff right up until April) so this year I have decided to be a bit more organised. This was even one of my New Year's kitchen resolutions.

I was even feeling a bit smug as I've actually made my mincemeat already, but one look at my freezer had me feeling somewhat daunted, not to say a little faint.

I have no idea what I've actually got in the ice pit. It's funny how things go into the freezer, looking quite recognisable. I'd even labelled most of the containers with their contents. But a few months in the freezer and everything is a uniform beige colour and it turns out the indelible freezer-proof marker pen I had used to mark up the freezer's contents is anything but . . .

So I am now in the position of regularly removing plastic tubs of frozen food and then waiting for them to defrost. There is something slightly forensic about it, as I look for clues as to the contents; a sort of culinary CSI. It means that over the next few weeks I'll also have too cook what's actually there and not necessarily what I "feel" like cooking. But hey ho, it's all part of the adventure, and every time I open the freezer, my resolution may at last bring me some peace of mind!

Babur - an adventure in southern Indian food!

2011-10-13T14:12:00.000+01:00

idli with three chutneys

Like fine wines, and occasionally the French rugby team, Londoners don't travel very well. What I mean to say is that whether you are London-born or London by adoption (of which I am talking about myself) we are not very good at moving out of our own little territories. Yes, we may travel to the City or to Westminster or central London for work, or go shopping in the West End. But mostly we like to stick to our own little patches. Frankly, unless we are rioting, and there's a JD Sports, we don't move very far from our home manors.

No seriously, we don't. Especially after the age of about say 35 when frankly the novelty of travelling to new places and partying around London has worn off. Shame on us.

For years, some friends of mine have been telling me about a restaurant in south London that they thought I should visit. To which I would shudder. It made me feel twitchy. There be dragons . . . Would I need a passport? Would I be allowed back in again to north London or would I have somehow lost my north London privilege after venturing south of the river? Shame on me.

Babur is a glorious little restaurant in (the wilds of) south London. Forest Hill to be exact. It is an absolute gem, a jewel. And the irony for me is that it turns out that it takes only half an hour to get to there by train from where I live in the depths of north London. ARGH! Seriously it takes me longer to get to work. Shame, shame, shame.

And now I have found it, I shall never let it go!

Now in the interests of partiality and full disclosure I have to tell you that a friend of mine designs their website. So when an invitation came to taste some new dishes that the restaurant was just thinking about putting on their menu . . . would I be interested in coming along since they knew how much I like food, it would have seemed rude not to accept.

Imagine if you will the old smoothie jazz song . . . heaven, I'm in heaven . . . Yes, the food definitely filled me with a sense of unholy joy.

I don't usually write restaurant reviews. Largely because I think that there are a hell of a lot of people out there who do it so much better than I could. However in this case I must make an exception. This place is truly exceptional and that was just with their "we are not sure if this will work but we are trying it out" south Indian tasting menu. It was a marvellous way to spend an afternoon.

So let me try to give you a little taster of what I was lucky enough to experience. Do you know, as I am typing this up, this is making me hungry all over again. Sigh.

So let us begin with some starters - something to get your taste buds into gear.

We began with a starter of fried idli. I had never had them before although I was aware that these are usually served at breakfast. But why limit them to breakfast? These were delicious little flying saucers of cake made from a rice batter and served with three very different chutneys - my particular favourite being a spicy cashew nut and ginger one. As the first taster of the afternoon, this dish really made quite an impressive entrance - it looked like a rather pretty artist's palette - the sort of dish that if you had seen it being served to someone else, you would have been craning to see more and would have asked the waiters what it was. Rupam, the restaurant manager also told me that the chutneys are usually served towards the end of a meal with popadoms before the sweet course in Indian homes, to cleanse the palate (rather than in the typical English way of having them as an appetiser before the starter). So not only was I tasting fantastic food, I was learning something new too, which is always a winner for me.

The idli was followed by a seafood rasam - a sort of Indian fish soup. Now fish soup is usually something I avoid. Not that I don't like fish. I do, but for some reason I am not wild about fish soups. Actually, if I am honest, not usually that keen on fish curries either, but this dish turned all my former prejudices on their head. This tomato- and tamarind-based, chilli hot, peppery broth with was filled with small morsels of squid, octopus and mussels. It was an intensely rich burnt umber colour, flecked with green and served with "croutons" of deep fried idli. This turned out to be my favourite tasting of the day. It had fresh, clean flavours that got my taste buds in a bit of a tizzy.

I loved the tangy citrus flavour of the tamarind with tomato. There was a little coconut milk to just soften the zestier edges, which worked beautifully with the seafood. It was a bit like a sunken treasure chest, as with each spoonful, you were never sure what you were going to find – a bit of squid? A mouthful of mussel? One of the absolute joys of this soup was that every mouthful tasted a bit different. It was almost as if you were on a journey of flavours in one dish. First tangy, then spicy, then sweet - although the combination of spice and heat didn’t linger (perhaps the cooling effect of coconut).

The soup was followed by a delicious dry-fried chicken dish, called subha koli - a glorious, but subtle combination of a whole gamut of herbs and spices that are typically used in southern Indian cooking cashews, ginger, garlic, chillies, fennel seed, mustard seeds, cardamom, coriander, coconut, curry leaf, cassia bark and a touch of black pepper.

Probably my second favourite tasting of the day was lamb chops, coated with ground cashew nuts and warm spices (black pepper, cassia, fennel and coriander) with a bit of tomato. It had a mild, slightly sweet and intensely meaty flavour and was of course, delicious.

I suppose I can't carry on frankly what is sounding a bit like a hagiography of the cooking at Babur, so I can tell you that the first of the main courses was a soft-shell crab curry, cooked with onions and cashew nuts and hints of cardamom, black pepper and fennel seeds. While it did taste very good indeed, it looked a bit peculiar - a bit like a deflated rubber glove (or something from a sci-fi movie!) But I must repeat the fact that it was packed full of flavour and perhaps I just need to a bit more of an education on the joys of soft-shell crab.

The next seafood curry, meen kolampur, was a tomato-based dal with tamarind, ginger, garlic, chilli, mustard seeds, fenugreek seeds and red snapper. I am not sure that I have ever had urad dal (tiny, nutty lentils) but I am a convert to the cause and have spent the last few weeks trying to track some down.

The next main course was something of a revelation for me. I have never, ever ordered a chicken korma dish in a restaurant. I am scarred by memories of old-fashioned curry houses trying to cater to staid British tastes back in the bad old days! This was when a korma was a beige (or sometimes orange), gloopy and sickly sauce. It was always overly sweet and was usually eaten by people who weren’t very adventurous. Bastards! They ruined things for the rest of us! Well it was quite clear that I had never had the genuine southern Indian article. This coconut milk-based dish included a cashew nut paste and was sweetened with mild spices such as cassia. It was a pale sort of eau de nil colour, a sort of paint colour chart of “white-with-the-merest-hint-of-green”. I am not sure that I am really doing it justice but what I will admit is that I am wrong about never ordering a korma if this is what they can taste like. The cashew nut paste coating the chicken, together with coconut milk and a hint of ginger and green chilli allowed the chicken flavours to also shine through. Nor was it too sweet, just gently aromatic.

The korma was followed by a less sophisticated lamb curry or therakkal – the sort of meal that "mamajee" used to make - a hearty lamb stew with ginger, coconut oil, cardamom, garlic, chilli, fennel seeds, black pepper, lots of onion, topped with deep-fried coconut slices. Another winner.

I left Babur some four hours later with a sense of purpose (I need to find out more about the traditions of southern Indian cooking) and a firm intention to return, dragging my north London friends (whether kicking or screaming) to one of the best Indian restaurants in London. This place is an absolute find!

I realise that a good restaurant review should tell you about the interior, the quality of the glasswear and linen; the toiletary arrangements (very good, by the way). But frankly, I am exhausted. Replete with the memories of a really fabulous tasting. I think I need to go and lie down . ..

a glorious beetroot and hazelnut cake

2011-10-04T00:06:00.000+01:00


beetroot cake with added nasturtiums	!

I have an aversion towards beetroot. I wish I didn't. The humble beetroot has some many good qualities, not least in its sumptuous colour and natural sweetness. I blame this firmly on an early childhood memory of one of my father's contributions to the world of low cuisine - the piccalilli and pickled beetroot sandwich. Since then, the smell of beetroot, even the thought of beetroot has made me feel a little faint, not to say even queasy. But I have vowed that I will learn to love this vegetable which I have much maligned and to do this I have to find interesting ways to cook it, that don't involve pickling!

British cooks have known for centuries of the value of using root vegetables such as carrots, parsnips and beetroot in cakes - their qualities leading to moist, sweet cakes, which became greatly valued during the last war, when refined sugar was rationed. I'd love to take credit for this cake but can't. It's an Annie Bell recipe from her Gorgeous Cakes book. And it most certainly lives up to its billing. This is such a pretty cake, flecked with rich pink and iced in a delicate rose colour.

So it was Kavey of Kavey Eats fame's birthday and she had suggested that guests might like to contribute to the sweet buffet. I didn't want to arrive empty-handed but was worried that I wouldn't be able to produce anything interesting enough for a party that would be attended people who not only enjoyed their food but who were likely to be pretty good cooks too. It was a bit daunting. But I plumped for this cake as it seemed relatively easy and my previous attempts at making it have always gone down rather well. Deciding to bring along an iced cake on what turned out to be one of the hottest days this year (yes 30C on the first day of October) might not have been one of my wisest decisions, although I am glad to say I managed to get it there relatively unscathed.

Oh and if case you're wondering, the flowers decorating it are nasturtiums. Not only are they edible, but their colours complemented the sugar stars that I had sprinkled over the top of the cake!

You will need Line two 20cm cake tins (about 9cm deep) preferably with a removable base. However, I used shallow silicone ones which actually worked quite well, although clearly in my case this became a much shallower cake. I have also made this cake using small loaf tins and you get a very pretty result too.

Skill level: Medium

ingredients:
cake
150g raw beetroots, grated
200ml light vegetable oil
250g golden caster sugar
3 x medium eggs, separated
3 tbsp milk
100g hazelnuts, toasted and finely chopped
200g plain flour, sifted
2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp ground ginger
½-1 tsp ground cinnamon
½ tsp ground nutmeg
edible decorations (sugar flowers, stars, baubles or dolly mixtures)
icing
180g butter
150g icing sugar, sifted
400g cream cheese
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

directions:

Preheat oven to 190C / Gas Mark 5.
Butter and line the tins with baking parchment and grease the paper with butter.
Place 1 teaspoon of the grated beetroot into small bowl. Cover this with about 2 teaspoons of boiling water, and then set this aside. You will later be using the liquid to colour the icing.
Whisk up the oil with the caster sugar until the sugar has dissolved.
Whisk together the egg yolks and milk, then whisk this in to the sugar and oil mixture.
Stir in the grated beetroot with the nuts. Make sure that all of the beetroot and nuts are coated with the cake mix.
Sift together the flour with the baking powder and spices.
Gently fold in the sifted flour mixture ensuring that it is well blended.
Whisk the egg whites until stiff, and then fold into the cake mix in about 3 batches.
Divide between the 2 lined tins. Smooth the surface and bake for about 30 minutes or until the cake is beginning to come away from the sides of the tins.
Set aside to cool before removing the baking parchment.
Make the icing by creaming together the butter with the icing sugar.
Add the cream cheese and continue to cream until smooth.
Stir in the vanilla extract with the drained beetroot liquid (that you prepared earlier). Make sure that this is well worked in so that the icing has an even pale pink colour.
Spread about one third of the icing onto one cake and then sandwich the other cake.
Use the rest to coat the top.
Decorate with your preferred decoration and refrigerate for about 1 hour in order to firm up the icing.

what's in season: october

2011-10-01T06:30:00.032+01:00

a parade of pumpkin carriages

Coach
There was a yellow pumpkin
Born on a pumpkin-patch,
As clumsy as a 'potamus,
As course as cottage-thatch.

It longed to be a gooseberry
A greengage, or a grape,
It longed to give another scent
And have another shape.

The roses looked askane at it,
The lilies looked away,
"This thing is neither fruit nor flower!"
Their glances seemed to say.

One shiny night of midsummer,
When even fairies poach,
A good one waved her wand and said,
"O Pumpkin! Be a coach!"

A coach of gold! A coach of glass"
A coach with satin lined!

If you should seek a thousand years,
Such you would not find.
The Princess in her crystal shoes
Eager for the dance
Stepped inside the pumpkin-coach
And rolled to her romance.

The roses reached out after it,
The lilies looked its way -
"O that we were pumpkins too!"
Their glances seemed to say.

Eleanor Farjeon, 1861-1965

It's hard to talk about what's seasonal this month, when the temperature is grazing 30C on the first of October. I know I should be talking about apples and pears; mentioning that all those wonderful British root vegetables are getting their first look-in of the new season, such as Jerusalem artichokes and celeriac. I should mention that it is a great time for foraging mushrooms, or even just letting someone else do the work for you and buy the results at the local farmers' market. But it's really hard to focus on the wonder of British autumn fruits and vegetables when it is hotter outside than it is in the southern Mediterranean. I think I need to go and cool down!

But seriously, the first Bramley apples are now in season, as are plums and pears. This is crumble season! The Jerusalem artichoke season is just beginning and cauliflowers are at their peak, together with main crop potatoes and carrots, sprouts, and broccoli. Lettuce is running out by the middle of the month, and courgettes finish towards the end. But by the end of the month, pumpkins and squashes will be piling up (and I do like my pumpkin soup. Actually I love my mushroom soup too . . . perfect for the cold, damp evenings that will inevitably be arriving despite the current heatwave). And it really is a fabulous month to go foraging for mushrooms!

vegetables, herbs and wild greens:
artichokes (globe), artichokes (Jerusalem), aubergines, beetroot, borlotti beans (for podding), broccoli (calabrese), Brussels sprouts, cabbages (various green varieties, red and white), carrots, cardoons, cauliflower, celeriac, chard, chanterelles, chicory, chillies, courgettes, cucumber, endive, fennel, kale, kohlrabi, lettuce, leeks, marrow, mushrooms, nettles, onions, parsnips, peppers, potatoes, pumpkins (and squashes), rocket, salsify, spinach, tomatoes, turnips, watercress, wood blewits

fruit and nuts:
apples, blackberries, chestnuts, crab apples, cranberries, damsons, elderberries, grapes
(English hothouse), hazelnuts, juniper berries, medlars, mulberries, pears, quince, raspberries, rosehips, rowan berries, sloes, walnuts

meat and game:beef, chicken, goose (wild), grouse, guinea fowl, hare, mallard, mutton, partridge, pork, rabbit, turkey, wood pigeon

fish and shellfish:
cockles, cod, crab (brown, hen and spider), eels, hake, lobster, mackerel, mussels, oysters (native and rock), prawns, river trout (brown and rainbow), salmon (wild), scallops, sea bass, shrimp, sprats, squidwhat's in season: october

perfect pasta for a heat wave! tomatoes with basil and breadcrumbs

2011-09-28T06:30:00.001+01:00

tomatoes with basil and breadcrumbs

We're having a heat wave,
A tropical heat wave,
The temperature's rising,
It isn't surprising,
She certainly can can-can.

Well my anatomy is not likely, as Irving Berlin wrote, likely to make "the mercury jump to ninety-three" but this simple tomato and pasta dish "proves that she certainly can can-can" make a perfect dish for a blistering hot September day!

My homegrown tomatoes are coming to an end and all I have left are a few slightly mishapen red lumps that had not benefitted from our dreadful wet summer. They needed a little help in the oven and I have the perfect solution.

Serves 4
Skill level: Easy

ingredients:
250g cherry tomatoes, halved around their circumference
olive oil
dried breadcrumbs
fresh basil leaves, torn
salt and freshly ground black pepper
spaghetti
grated pecorino or parmesan, to serve

directions:

Preheat the oven to 180C / Gas Mark 4.
Place the tomato halves in an oven-proof dish. Sprinkle over a little salt and pepper and a generous coating of breadcrumbs.
Add a generous trickle of olive oil to wet the breadcrumbs (but not enough so that they are swimming in oil!)
Bake in the oven for 20 minutes until the tomatoes are soft and the breadcrumbs are beginning to crisp up. (It may take longer, depending on how hot your oven is).
Top with some torn basil leaves and leave to cook for another 5 minutes. Meanwhile, prepare the pasta. Dried spaghetti usually takes about 10 minutes to cook.
Drain the pasta and return to the pan.
Pour over the tomato and breadcrumb mixture and toss well.
Check the seasoning and serve with a little of the grated cheese.

a lively marinade for chicken wings

2011-09-27T06:30:00.000+01:00

lively marinaded chicken

English weather is topsy-turvy at the best of times and right now is no different. In mid September, it felt as if autumn was well and truly on its way. Chilly mornings and evenings and damp air all around. But it that beautifully perverse way that English weather has, as October approaches so does the balmy weather and that Indian summer we thought had passed us by has firmly come to stay.

In that mood I needed a more summery feel to our evening meal. A selection of salads crowned with simple barbecued chicken and everyone was happy.

Huseyin Ozer of Ozer and Cafe Sofra fame describes this marinade as being "lively". It is one of those simple marinades that can be as frenetically spicy or languidly chilled as you like. It just depends on how much chilli you like. Since I like mine spicy, mine is full of exuberance and joie-de-vivre!

Serves 3 - 4
Skill level: Easy

ingredients:
16 x chicken wings, trimmed and chopped in half
marinade
200ml olive oil (or other vegetable oil such as rapeseed or sunflower oil)
1 x Spanish onion, grated
4 x garlic cloves, very finely chopped
1 tbsp dried crushed chillies (or more or less to taste)
1½ tbsp paprika (I like to use a mixture of sweet and smoked paprika)
salt and freshly ground black pepper

directions:

Prepare the marinade by finely grating the onion into a fine pulp. Combine the pulp and onion juice with all the other marinade ingredients and set aside. (You could actually bung the whole lot in a blender and whizz up until roughly combined).
Prepare the chicken wings by trimming any extraneous bits of fat or droopy bits of skin. Snip off the wing tips with a pair of scissors. Snap the wing bone joint so that you have two relatively similar sized pieces for each wing. This means that they will cook more evenly.
Pour the marinade over the chicken pieces and cover.
Refrigerate for at least 6 hours (or preferably overnight for a fuller flavour). Turn the pieces occasionally to ensure that the flavour is able to permeate the chicken pieces.
Preheat the grill or barbecue.
Cook the chicken for about 6 to 8 minutes on each side (or until a golden crust has formed). As you turn the chicken baste with more of the marinade.

tip:

Perfect finger food for parties.

tips: 4 interesting things to do with vinegar

2011-09-26T06:30:00.000+01:00

I have recently been having a bit of an autumn clean up - cleaning my windows with a final spritz of vinegar which makes windows seem to glow and stops them looking streaky.

I was curious about what other household uses vinegar might have, not just in the kitchen and I was able to find a whole plethora. In fact I found so many that I think there might be a book in it! (I suspect it has been done before!)
So in no particular order:

Makes a great breath freshener - add a couple of tablespoons of cider vinegar and 1 tsp of salt to a glass of warm water and rinse your mouth for about 30 seconds.
Shine up shower doors or bathroom grouting - use about 100ml of white vinegar, 50g bicarbonate of soda and 4 litres of warm water. This helps to restore the colour of the grouting and helps to remove water spots from shower doors.
Brighten colours when washing, by adding 100ml of white vinegar to the wash cycle.
I have just been berry picking and a great way of getting rid of berry stains is to wipe your hands with undiluted white vinegar.

sussex stewed steak

2011-09-22T06:30:00.000+01:00

sussex stewed steak

A dark sticky stew, the meat a rich mahogany colour and a melt-in-the mouth texture full of beguiling savoury flavours. It is perfect for frugal times since this recipe stands up well with cheaper cuts of beef and is also worth the long cooking - particularly now the autumn evening chill seems to be settling in. It is simplicity itself.

The first version of this recipe was Elizabeth David’s “Spices, Salt and Aromatics in the English Kitchen “, repeated by Jane Grigson in “English Food” and more recently in Sarah Raven’s incomporable “Food for Family and Friends”.

Why a “Sussex” stew? I can’t think of any reason why this is a particularly “Sussex” dish. I can only assume that it was probably popular in Elizabeth David’s home – one of Cook’s staples – and thus named after the county David was born in!

Serves 4
Skill level: Easy

ingredients:
1.1kg stewing steak, cut into large pieces
2 tbsp plain flour
salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 x medium English onions
6 tbsp Port (don’t use anything too fancy!)
6 tbsp Stout (I use Guinness)
2 tbsp Mushroom ketchup (or red wine vinegar or a mixture of wine vingegar and Worcestershire sauce)

directions:

Preheat the oven to 140 C / Gas Mark 1.
Season the flour with salt and freshly ground black pepper.
Rub the seasoned flour over the meat and place the meat into a shallow baking dish.
Slice the onions thinly and place over the meat in an even layer.
Pour over the liquids (Port, Stout and mushroom ketchup)
Cover with greased foil and then any lid for the dish, in order not to let any of the cooking steam to escape.
Place in the very low oven for about 2½ hours. (It can take up to 3 hours depending on how well done you like your meat). The slow cooking means that the beef exudes liquid into the sauce and makes it very rich.
Serve with creamy mashed potato, steamed greens and pureed carrots or a side of buttery mushrooms.

the full english!

2011-09-19T16:07:00.000+01:00

the full english!

I have recently been rereading Phillip Kerr's wonderful Bernie Gunther detective novels. Don't worry I am not trying to convert anyone to the joys of detective literature, (although I would if I could get away with it!) No, there is definitely a food point to this posting. I am just going to make you work a little for it.

If you haven't read Philip Kerr's novels, then I think you are in for a treat, particularly if you like your detectives slightly ragged and world-weary. Bernie Gunther is a somewhat Chandleresque character - sardonic and wise cracking and his view of his world is a pleasure to read. He is a fundamentally honest man living in very violent, immoral and dishonest times and the novels are about the often uncomfortable choices he has to make. They perfectly evoke the edgy atmosphere of both pre and post war Europe.

A Quiet Flame is actually mainly set in Buenos Aires in 1950, which finds our hero, Bernie, lodging with an English family, called the Lloyds.

"The Lloyds served something called a "fried breakfast": two fried eggs, two strips of bacon, a sausage, a tomato, some mushrooms, and toast. I certainly felt full by the time I'd finished. Every time I ate one I came away with the same thought: It was hard to believe anyone could have fought a war on a breakfast like that."

Which was why I particularly enjoyed the irony of reading recently the newspaper headline "Germany wakes up to the fry-up as British cuisine takes off in Berlin"; that "English" food is becoming fashionable in Germany today, particularly our breakfasts. Hilarious to think that the "Full English" is considered something of a delicacy. Not that I am averse to one - possibly one of the best hangover cures ever. Although Somerset Maugham wrote in the 1930s that "the only way to eat well in England is to have breakfast three times a day." Thank god times have changed!

A man is in general better pleased when he has good dinner on his table than when his wife talks Greek!

2011-09-18T17:40:00.000+01:00

So said Samuel Johnson - a rather strange man; a bit of an odd-ball who was well known for his lack of social skills. (It is now suspected that he may have suffered from Tourette Syndrome). But what he lacked in charm he made up for his incredible contribution to the English language and to English literature. The man was a genius . . . however, very much a man of the 18th century, he wasn't fond of cucumbers (believing them to be poisonous) and he was certainly not in favour of femail emancipation.
Having said that, I love his pithy aphorisms, and every year, somewhere in mid September, there is an annual Samuel Johnson Day, to celebrate the great man.

Cheers . . . εβίβα!

malay curry puffs

2011-09-12T06:00:00.000+01:00

malay curry puffs

It was the last gasp of summer and I made my favourite childhood treat, the curry puff, for a drinks party in the garden. I haven't made them in a while and since my pastry-handling skills are not the best, it seemed like a good idea to get in practice . . . Christmas is on the horizon and these are perfect party nibbles.

As a child growing up in Malaysia, one of my favourite things to eat was a curry puff. It is a simple but delicious pleasure and a great shame that these are not more widely known in this country. Essentially they are very similar to an Indian samosa but instead of using filo pastry they are made with puff pastry, reflecting Malaysia's colonial past. Some believe this is a result of English influences and the cult of afternoon tea, others believe it started earlier with the Portuguese. And I do have to admit that curry puffs are quite like empanadas. But no matter. Curry puffs are delicious, wherever they come from

My childhood tastes were firmly on the side of savoury and the combination of curried potatoes, peas (heaven) in a golden puff pastry case is the thing of treasured memories. It was often hard to tell who liked these delicious morsels more, me or Jason. When our amah, Sieu Yong, called out makanan siap ("food's ready!) we would both rush towards the kitchen, skidding on the cool marble floors, in our eagerness to get there first. To be fair, Jason usually won; largely because he had four legs rather than two. Jason was a rather eccentric Afghan hound with peculiar taste in food; more of him another time!

Makes about 20 to 24 small puffs
Skill level: Medium

ingredients:
1 tsp coriander seeds
1 tsp cumin seeds
2 tbsp vegetable oil
1 knob x butter
1 x English onion, finely chopped
2-3 x garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 tsp fresh ginger, finely grated
2 tsp garam masala or a good quality curry powder (I used Shan's Karahi Fry Ghosht which has quite a kick. Seasoned Pioneers' Malay Curry Powder is pretty good too)
a pinch of chilli powder (or to taste)
2 tsp tamarind paste or 1 tbsp fresh lemon juice
250g cooked potato, diced
150g fresh or frozen peas
100ml water or chicken or vegetable stock
salt and freshly ground black pepper
ready-made puff pastry
1 x egg yolk whisked with 1 tsp milk (to glaze)

directions

Firstly dry fry or toast the coriander and cumin seeds until fragrant, then set aside.
Heat the vegetable oil and add butter. Gently fry the onion until softened (about 10 minutes)
Add the garlic and ginger. Stir and continue to cook for 3 minutes.
Add the coriander, cumin, curry powder and chilli. Stir well to ensure that these ingredients are all well coated with the spice paste
Add the tamarind paste or lemon juice, then the potatoes. Stir well to coat.
Stir in the water or stock and bring to a gentle boil.
Simmer gently for 5 minutes or until the mixture has become quite dry.
Check the seasoning and then stir in the peas. Set aside to cool.
Preheat the oven to 190C / Gas Mark 5.
Lightly flour a baking tray.
On a large floured board, roll out the puff pastry (about one sixteenth of an inch thick).
Use a biscuit cutter or small bowl to cut out the shapes of the pastry. Make sure that these circles are as close together as possible, so that you don't waste any pastry.
Depending on how big the pastry circles are, place about 1 teaspoon (or more) of filling on the lower half of each pastry circle. At this stage you will realise why it is a very good idea to make sure that all your ingredients were finely chopped as it makes it much easier to fold the curry puffs!
Fold the other half of the pastry over to form a half circle.
Press the edges down and crimp (with a fork) to seal.
Place the curry puffs on a large baking sheet. Set them far enough apart to allow them to spread and rise in the oven.
Brush with a little of the egg wash.
Bake in the oven for 15 to 17 minutes, until golden.
Serve immediately!

tips:

While these are delicious warm they are also quite nice cold. Great for parties and picnics.
Place a roasting pan at the bottom of the oven and fill with boiling water, while the oven is preheating. Some people think that the steam released while the puffs are baking improves the texture of the pastry - puffy, crisp and flaky. You decide!

elderberry cordial - great tasting anti-flu in a mug

2011-09-09T06:30:00.000+01:00

My guest blogger, Heathcliffe's second blog post.

elderberry cordial

So. It's Elderberry season. And Flu season. Luckily, in a game of rock-scissors-paper-elderberry-flu; Elderberry beats flu.

In essence: when you get flu, the viruses invade your cells, hijack the mechanics and turn the cells in to virus making machines . . . cranking out copies of the virus faster than your body can deal with them. The neuraminidase inhibiting chemicals in elderberries are one of the few things clinically proven to slow down their spread.
While elderberries won't stop the virus entering your cells, the neuraminidase coating that lets them slip back out of the cells and infect others gets all gummed up by the elderberry chemicals and keeps them trapped inside where they can't run riot. This slows down the progress of the disease and gives your body a fighting chance against it.

As an aside, Tamilflu (the drug that we horded against the Avian Flu threat) is based on star anise extract. Both ingredients are great traditional cures. And in tests, Sambucol (a standardised extract of elderberry) beat off the competition in independent anti-viral tests.

Unfortunately, elderberry won't do you a jot of good against colds. For that you need fenugreek seeds. But if you feel flu coming on, or if you start becoming surrounded by heavy limbed, achy friends, start supping this stuff as soon as - and a couple of times a day. It's a life saver. And it tastes fantastic. Just add it to hot water and drink like Lemsip.

The cloves and berries give it a taste closer to mulled wine, so it’s also perfect around Christmas for the designated drivers or those with self control.

You'll find elderberries pretty much everywhere. They're the heavy, flat purple-black bracts of berries that stain pavements. They're also really tasty and totally free for anyone with time and a bucket and a local hedge or waste ground.

Elderberry Cordial Recipe
ingredients:
buckets of elderberries
white sugar
cloves
bottles or jars
household bleach or Miltons for sterilizing

IMPORTANT - Health and safety first:
Elder wood contains poisons. The flowers and berries are tasty and totally edible. If you get a little of the bracts in the pan, you'll be fine. Just don't go chewing on the branches.

The berries also have the ability to stain everything they touch. Keep some thin bleach to hand in case you need to clean up afterwards. Dab any stains and they'll vanish in seconds. The bleach is also handy for sterilising bottles.

So, warnings over, here's the recipe.

directions:

In the largest pan you have, bring the berries to the boil with a very small amount of water (the water just caps the temperature of the pan at boiling point and stops the berries scorching while they burst. Boil away till they're strain-able.
When they are, let them cool and then push them through a large sieve or squeeze them through muslin. Discard the skin and pips. Add the juice back to the pan.
Note: You can use a juicer for this, but when I tried it I ended up with a much weaker, pulpier cordial. From now on I'm using muslin and elbow grease.
For each pint of juice, add around 500g of white sugar and 10 to15 cloves. Bring to the boil to dissolve the sugar and then cover, turn off the heat, and set aside.
The sugar and cloves will act as preservative. Letting the pan stand hot will allow the cloves to leech all the good stuff out into the juice.
Pour into sterilised bottles and store. I soak the bottles in bleach then rinse thoroughly. You could use Miltons steriliser (or own brand equivalent from the baby section of your local supermarket - also works a treat for winemaking).
The cordial should keep happily for a year or two, but as with all things there are no guarantees. I should caution against using screw caps (any sugar/fruit combination in a screw-top bottle has the potential to ferment) but I've never had a problem with this one. And I have bottles that are over two years old and still good. Just keep it somewhere cool and dark if you're planning on hoarding it.

tip:

Elderberries are in season in UK in September and October.

prawns with harissa and cumin salt

2011-09-06T12:06:00.000+01:00

Prawns served with the spicy chilli dip, harissa and a squeeze of lime brings back memories of a holiday in Tunisia.

I actually got the idea for the recipe from an old copy of Australian Gourmet Traveller, one of my favourite food magazines, which in its turn got the inspiration from a chef called Matthew Gudykunst from the Smolt restaurant in Tasmania. And that’s all she wrote.

Serves 6

Skill level: Moderate

ingredients:

deep-frying

vegetable oil

150g cornflour

40g smoked paprika

400g raw tiger prawns, cleaned, tails intact

lime wedges, to serve

harissa

1 x large red pepper

3 x plum tomatoes, halved lengthways

1 tbsp cumin seeds

1 tbsp caraway seeds

½ tbsp fennel seeds

150ml olive oil

½ x red onion, finely chopped

3 x garlic cloves, finely chopped

3 x red chillies, roughly chopped

50g tomato puree

½ tsp smoked paprika

25ml sherry vinegar

½ x bunch each coriander and basil, coarsely chopped

cumin salt

1 tbsp cumin seeds

1 tsp coriander seeds

2 tbsp sea salt

directions:

Preheat the oven to Gas mark 2-3/160C.
Begin by making the harissa. Heat the grill on a high heat and char-grill the red pepper, turning occasionally until skin blisters and blackens, (about 10-15 minutes). Place in a bowl, cover with plastic wrap, set aside to cool, then peel (discard seeds).
Transfer the pepper to an oven tray, add tomato and roast until tender; (about 40-45 minutes). When cool enough to handle, coarsely chop and set aside.
Cook spices in a small frying pan over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until fragrant (3-5 minutes), then pound with a mortar and pestle until finely ground.
Heat olive oil in a large saucepan, add onion, garlic and chillies and cook, stirring occasionally, until soft, (about 10-15 minutes). Add red pepper, roast tomato and tomato paste to pan, reduce heat to low and simmer, stirring occasionally, until vegetables have broken down, (about 35-40 minutes).
Add ground spices, paprika and vinegar, season to taste and set aside to cool.
Transfer to a food processor, add herbs and process until smooth, then pass through a fine sieve into serving bowl. (This will make about 375ml).
Begin making the cumin salt by cooking the spices in a small frying pan over medium heat until golden and fragrant, (about 3-5 minutes). Transfer half into a mortar and grind with a pestle to a fine powder, then add remaining spices and coarsely grind. Transfer back to frying pan, add sea salt and cook until lightly toasted, (about 2-3 minutes).
Heat vegetable oil in a deep-fryer or deep saucepan to 180C.
Sift cornflour into a bowl, add paprika and season to taste. Toss prawns in flour mixture, shaking off excess, then deep-fry in batches until golden and crisp (1-2 minutes). Drain on absorbent paper and season with cumin salt.
Serve prawns with harissa, extra cumin salt and lime wedges.

nut and mozzarella lamb kebabs

2011-09-04T22:30:00.000+01:00

nut and mozzarella lamb kebabs

Silvena Rowe's Purple Citrus & Sweet Perfume is a glorious adventure in the food of the Eastern Mediterranean. This is the cuisine of the Ottoman Empire; of the Oriental Mediterranean from eastern Europe, the Balkans and the Crimea to Turkey, the Lebanon and Syria. A style of cooking that certainly here in Britain, we seem to be much less familar with. If this is a best kept secret in the culinary world then it is one that is screaming out to be made heard. So please pass it on!

Ottoman cooking is a fabulous combination of different styles of cooking, using a wide variety of ingredients. It seems to be a perfect meeting place of East meets West - sweet meets sour - a combination of European, Persian and middle Eastern cookery from Hungary in the West to Jordan in the east, centred around Constantinople, (now Istanbul in Turkey), the capital of the Ottoman Empire. Actually if you want to read a series of lovely novels set in nineteenth century Constantinople, read the Yassim the Eunuch novels, by Jason Goodwin, where the food plays a large role in the plots of these novels.

I was looking for something slightly different to do with some minced lamb. I do love my middle Eastern flavours and this recipe which Silvena Rowe calls Al Halabi Style Kebabs with Walnuts and Pine Nuts served with Potato Moutabel, seemed to press all the right buttons for me. Al Halabi is the name of a hotel restaurant in Damascas, Syria.

Serves 4
Skill level: Easy

ingredients:
kebabs
500g minced lamb, finely chopped
10 x mint leaves, finely chopped
½ tsp salt
½ tsp ground white pepper
80g walnuts, finely chopped
80g pine nuts, chopped
1 x small red pepper, finely chopped
80g chestnut mushrooms, finely chopped
100g mozzarella, finely chopped
moutabel
2 x large baking potatoes, baked in their jackets and mashed (use the skins too as they have bags of flavour)
2 tbsp tahini
2 tbsp natural yoghurt
3 tbsp fresh lemon juice
½ tsp ground cumin
½ tsp hemp seeds (to serve - optional)

directions:

Begin by making the kebabs. Combine all the kebab ingredients together in a bowl. Knead them together for up to 10 mins so that the kebabs from a sticky mass, a bit like a dough.
Either make small balls of the kebab mixture - about the size of a golf ball.
Alternatively use bamboo skewers (which have been soaked in cold water for 30 minutes) and form the kebabs around the top end of the skewer. You should have enough mixture to make about 10 to 12 kebabs.
Put the kebabs in the fridge (or freezer) for about 20 to 30 minutes, to firm up, before cooking.
Make the moutbel by combining all the ingredients (except for the hemp seeds).
Preheat the grill and grill the kebabs for about 8 to 10 minutes, turning every few minutes to ensure even cooking. These are even more delicious if cooked on a barbecue. But you can cook them in the oven too. (This takes about 20 minutes at 200 C / Gas Mark 6).
Sprinkle the hemp seeds over the moutabel and serve with the kebabs.

eating for england

2011-09-02T22:30:00.002+01:00

Faster, higher, stronger?
I am ready to serve my country . . .
I realise that recently I have been concentrating on the favourite food of the kind of people who like lots of variety in flavours and textures. Mezze, tapas and antipasti are perfect, not just for the summer (what summer I hear you ask, as the rain pelts past the window), but for champion nibblers like me. In fact, if grazing were an Olympic sport, I suspect I would have a shot at medal glory.

It's not as if I haven't been in training for years - every day since my early teens. I am focussed and dedicated; prepared to sacrifice a normal life for a grazing workout. I've shot up the hierarchy, from a weedy fly- or bantam-weight and am now pulling no punches with the middles- and heavy-weights of my acquaintance. I am a fully-fledged grazer with winning potential - faster and stronger than many of my opponents.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I am not in this for the kudos or glory. But I do think that the Olympic Committee may have missed a trick or two. If sport is to be used as a force for good, then surely getting more people actively involved is a priority. So to encourage sporting duffers like me to get involved would certainly help to improve our sense of achievement. Making grazing an Olympic option is the perfect solution to this sense of well-being. I, like many others, have been working out for decades, with no recognition of our prowess. We need Olympic justice and there is no better way than an Olympic sized grazing event.

So if the Olympic Committee do see the error of their ways. Clearly the most important thing, as Olympic enthusiast and founder of the modern Olympic Games, Pierre Frédy, Baron de Coubertin said "The most important thing is not to win but to take part!" So if London 2012 or Team GB feels the need, then I am ready to serve my country.

I await their call . . .

what's in season: september

2011-08-31T22:30:00.000+01:00

English apples - by Phil Eldon

From the dew-soaked hedge creeps a crawly caterpillar
When the dawn begins to crack
It's all part of my autumn almanac.
Ray Davis - Autumn Almanac

September is the pinnacle of perfection in terms of the vegetable patch; a truly excellent month for fruit and veg such as sweetcorn, broccoli, apples, blackberries, damsons and early pears. Glorious salad vegetables such as peppers and juicy tomatoes are still around and I am still working out what to do with a glut of courgettes. It is definitely time to start thinking about preserving this embarrassment of riches in chutneys, jams and my favourite fruit vodkas.
You'll begin to see more of the autumn and winter vegetables such as pumpkin, celeriac and cauliflowers. But September also marks the beginning of the fish season (every month with an R in it). Look out for sea bream, crab and my favourite mackerel, which packs such a punch in flavour.

vegetables, herbs and wild greens:
artichokes (globe), aubergines, beetroot, borlotti beans (for podding), broad beans, broccoli (calabrese), cabbages (various varieties), carrots, cardoons, cauliflower, celeriac, ceps, chard, chillies, courgettes, cucumber, endive, fennel, french beans, garlic, kale, kohlrabi, lambs lettuce, lettuce, mushrooms, onions, oyster mushrooms, pak choi, peppers, parsnips, peas, peppers, potatoes, pumpkins (& squashes), rocket, runner beans, salsify, sorrel, spinach, swede, sweetcorn, tomatoes, watercress

fruit and nuts:
apples, bilberries, blackberries, blueberries, cherries, chestnuts, damsons, elderberries, figs, grapes, greengages, hazelnuts, juniper berries, loganberries, mulberries, peaches, pears, plums, raspberries, rhubarb, strawberries

meat and game:
beef, chicken, duck, goose (farmed), grouse, mallard, mutton, partridge, pork, rabbit, turkey, venison, wood pigeon

fish and shellfish:
black bream, crab (brown, hen and spider), freshwater crayfish, herring, lobster, mackerel, mussels, oysters (native), prawns, river trout (brown and rainbow), salmon (wild), scallops, sea bass, shrimp, sprats, squid, whiting

chorizo in red wine

2011-08-26T06:41:00.001+01:00

chorizo in red wine

Another popular tapas, chorizo cooked in wine combines the lovely sweet smoky flavour of pimentón with the punchy flavours of chorizo sausages. Choose the fresh or semi-cured sausages, rather than the cured ones, that don't actually need any cooking. The fresh ones will exude more oil and paprika and coat the chorizo chunks beautifully.

I also tend to go for the spicier version of chorizo, which contains piccante pimentón - a bite like a mild chilli. But use the dulce (sweet) version if you prefer. I also like to buy the Brindisa chorizo, which I can get from my local deli. Perfect with a glass of chilled sherry.
Skill level: Easy

ingredients:
1-2 tbsp olive oil (preferably Spanish)
1 x shallot, finely sliced
1 x garlic clove, finely chopped
300g fresh chorizo, cut into slices about the width of 2 one pound coins (just under a centimetre)
1 tsp smoked pimentón (optional)
2 x bay leaves
200ml red wine
fresh flat leaf parsley, finely chopped (to serve)

directions:

Heat a frying pan until about medium hot; add the olive oil and then the shallot. Fry for 2 to 3 minutes and then add the garlic. Continue to cook for another 2 minutes. The onion will begin to soften.
Add the chorizo to the pan and fry for another 2 minutes until they have coloured and started to crisp up. Fresh chorizo will exude their own fat into the pan together with some of the pimentón, turning this to a lovely bright oily mixture.
Add the bay leaves and red wine. Cook until most of the wine has evaporated off and you are left with a rich unctuous coating to the chorizo.
Tip into a warmed serving dish and sprinkle over a little chopped parsley.

tip:

Add some slices or chunks of apple to the pan, after softening the onion. Replace the red wine with apple cider. Pork, apple and booze. A winning combination!

romesco sauce

2011-08-24T06:50:00.000+01:00

romesco sauce

Romesco is a lovely word - there is something beautifully rounded about it. I like the way it sounds when I say it, as it rolls around my mouth. I think it is one of those words that looks rather beautiful on the page, whether printed or in my somewhat reubenesque handwriting. The Catalan sauce, Romesco, has a rather fulsome round beauty too.

Made from dried red sweet peppers (also known as romescos or noras). These are the same peppers that are dried and ground up to make pimentón - Spanish paprika. Blended up with olive oil, garlic and toasted nuts such as almonds and hazelnuts, it is a delicious accompaniment to grilled or barbecued fish and shellfish as well as chicken and vegetables.

In Tarragona it is traditionally eaten with calçots - a type of thin leek or spring onion, typical in that part of Spain. It is also often stirred into stews and soups of an extra dollop of flavour. Actually it's pretty lovely with much everything. I love it with spicy sausages or roast lamb. Basically serve it with anything that you would serve with mayonnaise.

Skill level: Easy

ingredients:
3 x plum tomatoes, deseeded and chopped
3 x garlic cloves, chopped
1 tbsp dried breadcrumbs
1 tbsp toasted almonds
1 tbsp toasted hazelnuts
2 x red peppers, deseeded, roasted, skinned and chopped
2-3 x red chillies, deseeded
4-5 tbsp olive oil (preferably Spanish)
2 tbsp sherry vinegar (or red wine vinegar)
1 tsp smoked pimentón
salt (about 1 tsp)
a pinch of sugar (optional)

directions:

Blitz the lot together.
Check seasoning - you may need to add salt and a pinch of sugar.
Job done.

tip:

Beautiful served with barbecued quid, with a salad made of rocket leaves with chopped tomatoes and black olives, with perhaps a few anchovies.

garlic mushrooms

2011-08-23T06:29:00.005+01:00

garlic mushrooms

I am pretty mad about mushrooms. I love their intense meaty flavours and have rarely met a mushroom I didn't like. Although I can't much be bothered with those anaemic white button mushrooms so beloved by supermarkets. Always, always go for the brown (chestnut) mushrooms: they actually taste of something and if using in soups or stews, impart a spicy mossy flavour.

This is delicious with some good rustic bread, to mop up all the buttery garlic cooking juices.
Serves: 6 (as tapa)
Skill level: Easy

ingredients:
500g chestnut button mushrooms
olive oil (preferably Spanish)
a knob of butter
2-3 x garlic cloves, finely chopped
lemon juice
salt and freshly ground black pepper
flat leaf parsley, finely chopped

directions:

Make sure the mushrooms are free of loam and quarter.
Heat the olive oil and add the butter. Add the garlic and gently fry about 30 seconds to 1 minute, until lightly browned.
Add the mushrooms and turn the heat up and fry for 2 to 3 minutes, until the mushrooms have absorbed all the oil and butter.
Reduce the heat and sprinkle over a little salt. This will help to release the mushroom juices into the pan. Put a lid on the pan and leave to cook for a few minutes.
When the mushrooms have started to release their juice, turn the heat up and stir constantly for 3 to 4 minutes until most of the juice has evaporated.
Add a squeeze of fresh lemon juice and a little black pepper. (You probably won't need any more salt, as you have already salted the mushrooms).
Stir in the parsley and serve warm.

tips:

Replace some of the cultivated mushrooms with a mixture of wild mushrooms, such as wood blewits or chanterelles.
Prepare courgettes in the same way as the mushrooms, (although deseed them before frying). Fry together with a small, finely chopped onion, before adding the garlic.

spanish tortilla (tortilla española)

2011-08-22T06:15:00.001+01:00

tortilla espagnola

This ubiquitous tapa is served all over Spain. It is also a fabulous lunch dish; a great way of using any leftover boiled potatoes and both cheap and easy to make.

While it is a rather forgiving recipe and you can use any vegetables such as peppers or courgettes as you like, so long as they are chopped to the same size and you need to keep the proportion of eggs to vegetables the same (basically one egg to one potato). You could also use leftover scraps of ham too. I am rather fond of peas in mine. (Although in my mind, every day is Pea Day!)

While this is an easy recipe, there are a few tips for success. Firstly think of this as potato and onion bound together with a bit of egg, rather than an egg omelette with potato and onion! You will also need to use quite a lot of olive oil - probably more than you are used to using. The onions need to be cooked in a good three tablespoons of oil until soft and caramelised. Don't rush the cooking of the onions. They need slow caramelisation to inject the tortilla with big flavours.

I use a favourite omelette pan to cook the tortilla. It's small enough to be managable rather than using a big frying pan. However, a blini pan would also work very well too if you want to cook individual portions - small and perfectly formed.

Some recipes suggest using raw potatoes, which is fine, but they will take much longer to cook and add more calories (and mess too!) Use cooked potatoes, fried on a low heat long enough take up the flavour of the oil, but not so long that they are browned or crisped. This way, they will not fall apart during cooking.

Another tip is not to try to turn the tortilla (as outlined below). Yes, I know it looks as if I am contradicting myself, but to make life a bit easier for yourself, after adding the egg and cooking until the whole mess is beginning to set (5 to 10 minutes), it should still look a tiny bit runny in the middle and the underneath has browned, finish the top off under the grill for two to three minutes.
While this does taste brilliant hot, it is a great tapa that can be made in advance, as it often tastes better since all the flavours get a chance to get to know each other. You can also serve with a little of a tomato sauce on the side. It also makes great picnic food.

Serves: 4 as lunch
Skill level: Easy

ingredients:
4 x medium potatoes, peeled, roughly diced and parboiled
½ x Spanish onion, roughly chopped
4 x large eggs, beaten
salt and freshly ground black pepper
extra virgin olive oil (preferably Spanish), to fry

directions:

Parboil the potatoes for 5 minutes in lightly salted water, Drain well and steam off any extra liquid. (Wrap in a clean tea towel to make sure that the potatoes are completely dry.)
Take a small, shallow, heavy-based omelette pan and shallow fry the potatoes in olive oil until they are golden brown (about 10 minutes). Drain (reserving any oil) and leave to cool.
Return the oil to the pan, more if necessary. Add the onion and cook until soft and lightly coloured. This will take about 10 minutes.
Drain the onions, reserving the oil.
Return about 1 tablespoon of oil to the pan and heat gently.
Add the fried potatoes and onions to the beaten egg, and then pour into the hot pan, lifting the edges to allow the uncooked egg to run underneath, (as you would with an omelette). Cook very gently for about 2 to 3 minutes.
When the surface looks set (after about 5 to 10 minutes), run a thin, plastic spatula under the underside of the tortilla as it makes it easy to get out of the frying pan. Then cover the omelette pan with a flat plate large enough to act as a lid. Turn the pan upside down onto the plate and then slip the uncooked side of the omelette into the pan to finish cooking for a few minutes. Then run the spatula under the underside of the tortilla again before turning the pan over onto a serving plate.
Don’t overcook the tortillas as it is best when the omelette is still slightly moist in the middle, rather than too dry.
Cut into neat, small squares and spear each one with a cocktail stick.
This can be served both warm and just above room temperature.

tips:

Chorizo tortilla - cube or slice some semi-cured chorizo and fry in a little olive oil until cooked. Drain then cool slightly. Add the cooked chorizo to the potato, onion and egg mixture. Cook as above. Delicious with a dollop of garlic mayonnaise or romesco sauce.
Spinach tortilla - cook about 100g of young (baby) spinach leaves in a little olive oil, until wilted. This will only take 1 to 2 minutes. Drain and cool slightly. Add the wilted spinach to the potato, onion and egg mixture. Cook as above.

marinated cracked green olives

2011-08-21T06:56:00.006+01:00

cracked marinated green olives

Spanish cuisine from the Andalusian region has been much influenced by its Arab history, (the Moors and Berbers of north Africa) using spices such as cumin, paprika, saffron, rice, citrus fruit and lots of olives.

These olives are full of herbs and spices; the longer they marinate, the tastier they become.
Serves: 6 (as tapa)
Skill level: Easy

ingredients:
1 x can or jar of brined large green Spanish olives (preferably unstoned), drained – about 450g
4 tbsp red wine vinegar
4 x garlic cloves, finely sliced
1 x lemon, cut into chunks
½ x red pepper, cut into thin strips
1 x bay leaf
1 tsp coriander seeds, crushed
½ tsp dried chillies flakes or 2 x small fresh red chillies
½ tsp ground cumin
½ tsp fennel seeds
2 x sprigs fresh thyme or ½ tsp dried thyme
1 x sprig fresh rosemary or ¼ tsp dried rosemary leaves
freshly ground black pepper
olive oil (preferably Spanish)

directions:

Lightly crush the olives (by placing them on a chopping board and then bashing them with a rolling pin, so that they crack lightly). This will allow the marinade flavours to penetrate the olives.
Put the olives in a large bowl and add the red wine vinegar, garlic, lemon, red pepper, bay leaf, coriander seeds, chilli, cumin, fennel seeds, rosemary and thyme. Toss together and add a little freshly ground black pepper.
Pack all these ingredients into a lidded glass jar. They need to be jammed in quite tightly.
Pour in the olive oil until covered.
Seal the jar tightly and leave for 24 hours at room temperature.
Put the jar in the fridge and leave for at least one week, but preferably two weeks, to continue marinating, before serving.
Every few days, carefully shake the jar, to make sure all the ingredients are mixed together.
These olives will keep for months in the refrigerator, so long as they are covered in the olive oil. The longer they marinate, the more the flavour of the olives will be enhanced.
To serve, bring the olives back to room temperature.
Use cocktail sticks to spear the olives.

tip:

Use the olive oil that the olives have been marinating in either in a salad dressing or in your cooking. It adds an extra oomph of flavour.

meatballs in tomato sauce (albondigas en salsa)

2011-08-20T06:39:00.004+01:00

albondigas en salsa

Meatballs are one of my favourite tapa, but equally delicious as a main course, with noodles or rice. These tapas are from the La Mancha region of Spain, and are made with a mixture of minced meat, such as beef and pork. Although you could use veal or lamb (or a mixture of all). I serve them with a classic tomato sauce (there are always tubs of this in my freezer).

This is a great recipe to make with children; (they do love getting their little paws dirty!) The meatball mixture also freezes easily, so is good to make in advance for a party, or to freeze any leftovers, (not that I imagine you would have any, these are deliciously moreish!)

Serves: 8 - 10 as tapa
Skill level: Easy

ingredients:
meatballs
500g beef mince
250g pork mince
4-5 tsp breadcrumbs
1 x garlic clove, finely chopped
½ onion, very finely chopped or grated (preferably a sweet Spanish onion)
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp smoked paprika (pimenton)
a pinch of grated nutmeg
1 x small handful flat leaf parsley, chopped
salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 x egg, lightly beaten
flour for dusting
olive oil
tomato sauce
olive oil
1 x large sweet Spanish onion, chopped
2 x garlic cloves, finely chopped
1kg ripe fresh tomatoes, chopped (or equivalent of tinned tomatoes)
a pinch of sugar
1 x bay leaf
1 x cinnamon stick, broken into 2 lengths
4-5 tbsp sherry or white wine or sherry vinegar
salt and freshly ground black pepper

directions:

Begin by making the meatballs. You can put all the ingredients in a food processor and whizz up until mixed well. Alternatively, make sure the minced meat is very finely chopped and mix all the rest of the ingredients together. You can immediately begin making the meatballs, although I tend to leave the mixture in the fridge for 30 minutes or so, to let the breadcrumbs soak up any liquid and for the mixture to firm up.
Put some flour on a large plate and add salt and pepper.
Slightly wet your hands, and then create the meatballs, by taking enough of the meatball mixture (about the size of a walnut) and roll into a ball. Then roll in the flour and set aside on a plate. Place the plate in the fridge for another 30 minutes or so before frying to firm up again, while you make the tomato sauce.
Make the sauce by frying the onion until softened but not brown (about 5 to 10 minutes). Add the garlic and continue to cook gently for about 2 minutes.
Add the tomatoes, bay leaf, cinnamon and sherry. Bring to a gentle boil and then reduce the heat, to allow the sauce to simmer.
Add a pinch of sugar and simmer for 20 minutes. Check the seasoning.
Heat some olive oil in a large frying pan and quickly shallow fry the meatballs, making sure that they are browned all over.
Pour over the tomato sauce and continue to simmer for about 20 to 25 minutes. (Or transfer the meatballs to an ovenproof dish and pour over the sauce. Cook in the oven at 180C / Gas Mark 4 for about 20 minutes).
While these are delicious served hot, they are perfect served at room temperature.

a taste of tapas: small plates of something delicious

2011-08-19T06:16:00.003+01:00

a selection of tapas

"I love anything that involves getting to eat seven different kinds of food in a single sitting"
So says the character Ellie Hatcher in Alafair Burke's City of Fear referring to her love of tapas. A woman of impeccable taste, I suspect.

To me tapas mean several things - simple food cooked really well; a myriad of gorgeous flavours; a gathering of friends - convivial and ever-so slightly bibulous; of Spanish holidays and the ultimate taste of summer. Tapas is the perfect food for hot summer days when traditional British stodge just won't cut it; when you want something that is full of profoundly Mediterranean flavours.

While it occurs to me that sometimes I must be part Eskimo, (I am a typical northern European who tends to become lobster-red after any exposure to sun), I am also convinced there is a little bit of the Mediterranean in me. I love the food of this region and on discovering the existence of both mezze and tapas, felt that this style of eating could have been invented for me - I love to graze. Tapas tempt and tantalise the taste buds. The food stimulates all the senses, not just one's sense of taste. Food can be crisp morsels as well as a soft texture. Bland or highly spiced. Hot or cold. It is also all about the "social" - you do not eat tapas alone (although frankly I could and probably would - it's all mine I tell you, greedily!)

I first went to Spain at the age of 18, on a sort of cut-price 18-30 holiday. I am afraid that the food didn't really get much of a look in as in those days it was all about the boys and the booze. I didn't get to experience tapas (I would definitely have remembered!) although did have sangria (surprisingly nice) and the traditional Spanish omelette.

My experience of Spanish restaurants had left me slightly scarred, largely because one restaurant owner's elderly mother, a widow dressed in her black widow's weeds, came out of the kitchen to shout at me, while gesticulating with some urgency. After I had recovered what little dignity had after this somewhat voluble wind tunnel experience, her granddaughter cheerfully translated for me - My grandmother thinks you look a disgrace. that you shame your mother. I think you look great though. Do you come from London? I was so taken aback that I could just nod in agreement and after that decided to avoid restaurants in case my peroxide blonde crew cut offended the delicate sensibilities of any more old ladies!

The following year my brother went to Spain on a Geography field trip in his first term at university. (Clearly I had been on the wrong course - in my first week at uni, we visited a ruined monastery in drizzly north Yorkshire.) When Justin returned he told me that in the evenings, the students would all adjourn to a local bar. It was brilliant, he said. Every time we ordered a round of beers, they kept bringing us food. What sort of food? Well sort of roast potatoes and ham and cheese. It was great. But then he looked a bit shamefaced. They wouldn't let us pay, he said, looking a bit hangdog. My brother felt guilty (rather sweet really) that because of some kind of language barrier or the cultural differences, that perhaps they were supposed to tip or maybe move on to another bar. He had a nagging feeling that perhaps they had broken the rules in some way. Fortunately not, it was just tapas in a small village bar and he cheered up when I explained that I thought that the food was there to encourage you to drink, although not to get drunk (as is the way with some many Brits abroad). The only injustice of the whole thing was that my brother at that time had an orange Mohican haircut and nobody shouted at him. Grrr.

But I have discovered that I had experienced a form of tapas as a small child - pan con tomate (Catalan bread and tomato). There are some in my family, who think that my father, Henry, invented "tomatoes on toast". He has been eating this for as long as I can remember and apparently, talking to relatives and old friends, he was the first person they had ever met who did this. On discovering olive oil, Henry's simple toast, sliced tomatoes and a grinding of black pepper was now anointed with a drizzle of oil. It is still his favourite snack. He gets through bucket loads of tomatoes every week and has probably helped Italian olive oil producers in no small way. I had assumed that he might have learned about this kind of food when he was stationed in Gibraltar in the army, but it turns he did not. He learned it at 17 when he went to sea in the merchant navy (yes, do try to keep up!) As one of the watch officers, he couldn't always have access to regular meals, if the galley was closed. But the Goan cooks would leave food out and the watch officers were able to cook their own food - which is where Henry learned the joy of the simple pleasure of tomatoes on toast, together with the makings of a rather fine bacon sandwich. He still does them both beautifully, despite his advanced age. He says that you just make use of what you've got - whether it is in a basic galley kitchen or using a mess tin, and you need to try to make your food as tasty as possible. Now I know where I get it from, as if there was ever any doubt!

When I was trawling through my cookery books, books of food history and the internet, while there was some consensus of opinion about where and how tapas originated, there was not total agreement. There seemed to be a number of different explanations, but personally I think that some of them, though charming, are a little fanciful. Apologies if I am about to burst anyone's bubble, but I have plumped down very firmly in the more traditional corner of the tapas debate (and you have no idea how that pains me to be a "traditionalist"!)

Tapas probably began in Andalusia, the sherry producing region of southern Spain. Canny sherry producers would provide small terracotta lids, to place over the top of the sherry glasses. This would keep out the fruit flies attacked to the sherry's sticky sweetness. It is not much of a leap of imagination to think that small morsels of something of delicious would be provided by enterprising bodega owners and tavern keepers - a few olives, some salted almonds, a bit of ham or cheese or preserved fish - small morsels of loveliness to taste along with the sherry and give all one's taste buds a bit of a workout.

Bars would compete with each other to see who could out do each other. Some would develop reputations for their "house" delicacies - perhaps croquetas in one, marinated anchovies in another. I don't believe it would be any different centuries ago than it would be now. People don't change, just the technology!

So theories about Medieval Spanish kings being advised by their doctors to eat small meals in aid of their health is a rather delightful idea, but it doesn't strike me as very plausible. Nor do I believe that these small plates of food were used to feed agricultural workers in the fields. The average peasant is more likely to take something much more substantial into the fields with them - hunks of bread and cheese or perhaps some stuffed pastries, such as empanadas.

In Spain, tapas are eaten at tapa bars. Tapas eaten at home are considered something else entirely. Hors d'oeuvres probably! Tapas are eaten at a bar with drinks such as beer, wine or sherry (but rarely spirits) and often precede a meal, whether at home or going on to a restaurant. If you are in a large town or city, you can move from tapa bar to tapa bar. It is not just a change of scenery but an opportunity to explore the specialities of different bars. I imagine the exercise taken between bars is probably good for you - ameliorating the effect of over-indulgence in both food and drink.

Spanish cooking has a rich tradition of spices; the Romans introduced spices from Asia. There are still strong influences from the Arab Moors in the south of Spain, to those that were brought back from the New World including chillies as well as tomatoes and potatoes. Each region of Spain also has its regional specialities, not just in main courses but in tapas as well. In Madrid, spicy roast potatoes (patatas bravas) are popular, as is tripe. Er . . . I'm not sure if I am ready for that yet. But I do love black pudding and the Castilian Morcilla is a winner. In Galicia, on Spain's northern coast, seafood especially octopus and different types of omelette (such as chorizo and vegetable) are served. Andalusia, in southern Spain, is full of Moorish influences of Arab north Africa)
Some typical tapas are as follows, some of which I shall be posting over the next few days:

Patatas Bravas
Prawns in garlic and sherry
Chorizo in red wine or cider
Romesco sauce
Tortilla Espagnola
Pimentos de Padron - padron pepper roulette - the bartender will warn you, "Unos pican y otros non"--"some are hot and the others are not". 19 out of 20 taste like green peppers. One out of 20 tastes like a chilli! Dare you! (You can't tell by looking).
Garlic mushrooms
Meatballs in tomato sauce (albondigas en salsa)
Gazpacho
Garlic soup (Ajo blanco)
Home-cured olives
A selection of cured ham such as jamon serrano
A selection of cheese, such as Manchego (a sheeps' milk cheese) often served with slithers of mebrillo (a quince paste)
Ham croquetas - why oh why can't I cook these? I've made them so that the béchamel sauce has the same consistency of silly putty but they still disintegrate in the pan - a sort of flying saucer fried gloop, looking like something from a 1950s B Movie - Invasion of the Grey Slime, with Pink Bits!

courgettes with parsley, garlic and breadcrumbs

2011-08-18T06:33:00.009+01:00

We had this to accompany last Sunday's roast; I have a glut of courgettes to use up, about the only thing in my garden that seems to have grown well this year.

It would also make a great light lunch with a tomato salad and some good rustic bread and a large glass of chilled white wine. Another perfect summer meal.

Serves 4 as a main course or 6 as a side dish
Skill level: Easy

ingredients:
1kg courgettes
sea salt (to salt the courgettes)
olive oil
freshly grated parmesan or pecorino, to serve
lemon wedges, to serve
parsley, garlic and breadcrumb mix:
2 x garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 x small bunch of flat-leaf parsley, chopped
2-4 tbsp breadcrumbs
zest of ½ a lemon, finely chopped (or grated)
salt and freshly ground black pepper

directions:

First prepare the courgettes. If using large courgettes then cut lengthways and deseed them. Then cut into chunks about the thickness of a one pound coin. If using young or small courgettes, merely slice as above.
Place the courgettes in a colander and sprinkle over some salt. Leave to drain for about 30 minutes.
Rinse the courgettes of sugar and any bitter juices and then dry in a clean tea towel.
Make the parsley topping by chopping the breadcrumbs, parsley, lemon and garlic together. You can do this by hand or in a food processor. But make sure that you don't over-blend the mixture as it can become a bit claggy.
Preheat the oven to 220C / Gas Mark 7.
Heat 2 to 3 tablespoons of olive oil in a large frying pan until very hot.
Add the courgettes and fry quickly until very lightly browned. Flip the slices over to lightly colour the other side. Do not let them cook - this should probably only take 1 to 2 minutes on each side.
Put the courgettes in an oven proof dish and include any of the oil and juices.
Sprinkle over the parsley breadcrumb mix.
Drizzle over a little more olive oil.
Bake for about 10 to 15 minutes, until the topping is crisp and lightly browned.
To serve, grate over a little parmesan or pecorino cheese and serve with lemon wedges.

tip:

Delicious with a dollop of homemade tartare sauce.

when life gives you lemons . . . make lemons awesome!

2011-08-17T06:10:00.028+01:00

heathcliffe's mead

Let me introduce my guest blogger, Heathcliffe's, first post. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. (Yay, Heath!)

This week I've made mead and a fridge.

See, the big problem here is that I've just moved into a new flat and, right now, I have no appliances and no money left. I have an Argos catalogue shining out from my lone bookshelf like a beacon of all my life could be, but my bank account says no. So I figure a plan is in order.

So when life gives you lemons . . . let's make lemons awesome.

Anyway, let's talk about mead.

One of the greatest things my parents were blessed with was a stellar inability to think things through any more than was absolutely necessary. It's why me and my sister were raised in a commune of self-sufficient Russians in a large manor house in Norfolk, surrounded by orchards.

The Russians were great.

If they needed electricity they made it. If they needed vodka, they made it. Even before the advent of Argos, they managed to live well and joyously and completely off their heads. The orchards meant there were plenty of opportunities to make bucket loads of home brew. They ruled like Vikings with an allotment and wanted for nothing.

Since I have spare time, no money, a balcony, and few other options, I figure I'm perfectly positioned to put my past experiences into practice.

Everyone knows that one of the first things you'll need to survive in London is a steady supply of drinkable alcohol. If possible you should also aim to inspire awe and kudos towards you in all you meet. Food can also be useful.

So those priorities are the basis of this week's project.

Home made wine solves the alcohol problem, but raises issues of its own. The main problem is that as soon as you put the words 'home-made' and 'wine' together, most people think of murky, yeasty, undrinkable soup made with potato peelings and questionable hygiene. Then you lose the kudos and the awe.

It is a hard sell, so best to not start. It is much better to introduce your friends to the idea with something more impressive.

So let’s make mead, and old English (or even Pagan) honey wine. It is a great choice for your first home brew for so many reasons:

It tastes fantastic
It sounds impressive (and comes with some intriguing history and folklore)
It looks great
It is quite hard to source and incredibly expensive to buy the good stuff in shops
Mead is eminently barterable for food and cigarettes and (a) to (c) get you party invites, solving both the food and kudos problems.

If you're thinking of making it yourself, you're already halfway there. The rest of the job is stupidly easy and shouldn’t take you more than an hour.

It is a perfect weekend project.

Winemaking is an incredibly simple and robust process. Some of the earliest written words we have are grog recipes. Sumerians loved the stuff.

In essence, we just add yeast to stuff with sugar in and leave it to work. Yeast converts the sugar to alcohol and - when it runs out of sugars or produces enough alcohol - it dies off and settles out, leaving wine behind.

It takes skill to screw it up. And for a fiver and a couple of hours of your time, it really is worth a go.

I think Boney M put it best: Yay those Russians!!!

p.s.

Oh and before I forget. The fridge is just a large terracotta plant pot in a saucer of water with a plate on top. The pot soaks up the water, which borrows heat in order to evaporate. So far it's consistently cool to the touch and keeping milk fresh for a good four days.

It's a great camping trick if you're ever caught short.

kit you will need:

sterilising tablets (or use own-brand Miltons baby steriliser)

2 x demijohn or 5 litre plastic bottle (The first bottle is for immediate use, the second is for the “racking off” process)

1 x airlock (instructions to make your own below)

1 x Campden tablet (optional – can be bought from homebrew websites or Amazon, eBay, etc)

6 x wine bottles (for bottling up)

ingredients:

For one gallon you'll need:

around 1.5kg of honey (Iceland are great for this)

3tsp wine yeast (buy this from websites such as Amazon, eBay or a homebrew site)

about 4 litres of water plus extra (buy a gallon – 5 litres - of it for about a quid and you can use the bottle as a demijohn)

to make your own airlock:

If you need to make your own demijohn or airlock, you have some easy options:

The lids of most 5L water bottles are elastic enough that small holes with things pushed through them become self-sealing. For a demijohn, just take your already clean bottle, make a small hole in the lid, and then force through an airlock.
For an easy home made airlock, get a length of sterilised siphon tube. Insert one end in the lid or bung. Pop the other in a jar of water. Job done.
The trick is just to make sure that - somehow - gas can safely exit the demijohn but nothing bad can waft its way in. Hygiene matters.
If you want to be really cheap, just prick a few pinholes in a balloon and stretch it over the neck of your demijohn. It'll do the same job, but the balloons do tend to break so keep an eye on them.

Now we're almost ready to cook!

directions:

Before we start cooking, do sterilise the bottle, bungs, airlocks, utensils and so on before you start. Just add one Miltons tablet per gallon of water, dunk everything in to soak, leave for 15 minutes and rinse off. Easy.
For our mead, we'll be using a solution of honey and wine yeast.
First boil about 5 litres of water in a pan with the lid on. The steam will sterilise the pan, which saves you time in the long run.
Pour out 2 litres and set aside to cool.
Then add the honey to the rest of the hot water so you have thin, pourable honey. Swirl the jars with a little water in order that you get all the honey from each jar, and pour this into the pan.
Make sure all the honey has dissolved, and then set aside to cool.
Put about 4 tablespoons of the honey solution into a jug. Leave it to cool until at around body temperature; (when it feels neutral against your wrist). Make sure that you do check the temperature as if it is too hot, it will kill the yeast when you add it. If you mess up, don't worry too much. Yeast is pretty sturdy and forgiving.
Now add 3 level teaspoons of the wine yeast. and stir in the yeast until it begins to dissolve.
Add this solution to the demijohn or plastic bottle.
Add the batches of the honey water solution, swirling around each time to ensure that the honey and yeast is properly dissolved.
If there is room in the demijohn or bottle, top up with a little more of the water you have set aside.
Put a bung in the demijohn (or use the 5 little bottle lid to cover) and insert the airlock. Ensure the airlock is topped up with water.
You’re more or less done for the moment.
The mead will take a few months to ferment; leave it in a dark place such as a cupboard and keep an eye on it. It needs to be kept away from both direct sunlight and from drafts.
Make sure the airlock is regularly topped up with water.
Fermenting will start after a few hours as the yeast gets to work. Froth will appear on the top of the honey solution, which will now look distinctly murky; the airlock will begin to bubble and “pop” as carbon dioxide is given off during the fermentation process.
While the popping sound is a sign that fermentation has started, it is also a good indication of when it has finished. As the yeast exhausts itself, the popping sound becomes less frequent; more of a blip. (If you have ever made popcorn at home, it is the same kind of thing!).
After about 2 weeks, the popping will cease completely. (It may only take 10 days, or it could take 16 – there is no definitive timescale. It is up to you to check.)
When the mead has finished fermenting, the mixture will also start to clear as the dead yeast or “lees” sink to the bottom of the demijohn. .

Racking off:

Sterilise your second demijohn, siphoning tube, bung and airlock (you can use the bung and airlock from the existing fermenting demijohn) before “racking off”. This is the process of removing the dead yeast (lees) from the bottom of the demijohn by siphoning. If you are not familiar with siphoning, this is a very simple process which depends on gravity.
Get a large sturdy bowl, a clean washing up bowl will do, and place this by the edge of a kitchen sink. Place the mead-filled demijohn on top of the bowl.
Place the empty sterilised demijohn in the sink.
Remove the bung from the mead-filled demijohn and push the siphoning tube into the mead until it is about 5 centimetres from the bottom. This will prevent the lees at the bottom of the demijohn from going up the tube and spoiling the finished product. (I promise you the lees taste foul!)
Suck the other end of the tube, until the wine flows through the tube. Quickly put this end into the clean jar. You may have to try to put your thumb over the end and then releasing it, to prevent spillage. Although a few millilitres won’t be any great loss, although it is a shame to waste it.
As the mead flows into the sterilised demijohn, you will need to keep a firm hand on the end of the siphoning tube that is in the fermented demijohn, to ensure that it is kept in place; (so that it doesn’t snake off, spraying your kitchen with fermented honey!)
Let the level of mead go down in the fermented demijohn as close to the lees as possible; 5 centimetres is a good rule of thumb. Now remove the siphoning tube.
You now need to take the now filled second demijohn and remove any carbon dioxide that may be still present.
Put your hands around the neck of this demijohn and give it a good shake, which helps to release any extraneous gas. Since the demijohn will be quite heavy, be careful. It may take 2 people to do this.
Give a thorough shake 3 times.
Seal the wine with a sterilised bung and airlock. Return to a dark place.
After about 1 week, repeat the “racking off” process into a sterile demijohn and shake as before.
After another week, taste it! If it still has carbon dioxide in it, it will taste sharp. Think of the difference between fizzy and flat cola and you'll get an idea of the end product.
If it does taste a bit sharp, then give it a few more shakes and leave a bit longer.
When you’re ready, add the Campden tablet, following the instructions. This will ensure your mead is crystal clear since the tablets attract any bacteria or remaining yeast particles and sink to the bottom of the demijohn.
Leave for 3 to 5 days to settle.

Bottling up:

Sterilise 6 wine bottles, (although you will probably only need 5), together with plastic corks (if using), together with the siphoning tube.
For safety, DO avoid screw tops at all times. If it ferments a second time round, you'll have mead bombs. From experience, I can tell you that you really don't want to go there. They're a bugger to defuse safely and spectacular (and dangerous) when they blow.
Rinse the bottles with cooled, boiled water, then set them in the sink, as you did when racking up into a sterilise demijohn.
As before, put the mead-filled demijohn on a stable upturned bowl and siphon the wine into each bottle, as before.
You will need to watch this carefully as the bottles fill quickly and you will need to be quick off the mark to move the siphoning tube to the next empty bottle.
Push in the corks.
Dry the bottles, label and date.
Set aside for 2 to 3 months to mature. 6 months will be even better.
You are now ready to drink it or to exchange it for stuff you need.

tips:

If you like it sweet, add some extra honey at the end of fermentation and leave it for a while longer
For some reason, fermentation seems to take out some of the top notes of the honey. Like perfume or aftershave at the end of the day when there's just the base notes left.
Top up with a little honey at the end and it'll add sweetness and re-introduce those honey top notes. Combined with the heavy bass notes, you'll have honey-plus.
Personally I love it when it's almost a dessert wine, kicks like sherry, and rolls with big, deep honey flavours.
If you want to add any other flavours, add them at the end. A little vanilla essence or a vanilla pod rocks and pads well against the honey. Rose water gives you Turkish Delight in a glass.
Include the juice of 2 lemons as well as about 50ml of strong tea before adding the wine yeast.

sunday roast: spiced roast pork shoulder

2011-08-16T06:23:00.025+01:00

My love for the pig is conditional. I don't hate pigs. In fact I rather like them in their natural habitat; a mob of rambunctious piglets playing in a field is guaranteed to make me smile. I'm just not that keen on the pig on my plate.

Perhaps I am more of an Anglo Saxon than I had realised. When England was invaded by the Normans, as the elite, they appropriated all the best cuts of meat for themselves. Those mean invading Normans would have been welcome to my pork loin or shoulder. I am happy with bacon. I have never met a sausage I didn't like. (Please feel free to insert your own Carry On joke here).

I've always found pork meat a bit bland. Often a bit dry and chewy. (I suspect that pork is often overcooked for fear of disease.) As a child there was some suggestion in my family that I may have been some kind of changeling. Because what with the fact that I was the only member of my family with straight hair, I was the only one who didn't make a lunch across the dining room table when Sunday lunch's pork crackling was served up. The general consensus of opinion was that this was unnatural. I didn't care. I just didn't like it.

Unless pork has been highly spiced and flavoured, in a Chinese or Thai stir fry or braise, or in an American barbecue, I tend to avoid it. I have avoided cooking pork to such an extent that I have never roasted a joint of pork. Never. Ever.

I changed my mind when I realised my local supermarket had a very generous special offer on slabs of pork shoulder. It was half price and that Sunday I had some rabid pork lovers coming for lunch - the sort of pork lovers in the Jay Rayner mould. Besides it has been raining for about a week and I felt in need of something a little comforting.

I bought the pork but wanted to do things my way. Yes, I wanted a traditional British roast. But I also wanted something that was full of flavour. So what to do?

The Italians have a dish that roasts pork with fennel seeds. I liked the idea of aniseedy flavours spicing up the meat's bland porkiness. Unfortunately I couldn't find any fennel seeds in my larder. I'm guessing the Pantry Pixies had been rearranging things again. But I did have some juniper berries. That should work I thought. Juniper has a bright fresh flavour that helps to cut through the fattiness of pork and bring out the meat's natural sweetness.

A mixture of crushed juniper berries, a crushed star anise, fresh thyme, paprika and brown sugar made the perfect rub.

I try to make the most of crackling too. A good way to do this is to make sure that the skin is dried out before roasting. Removing as much moisture as possible helps give the crackling extra crunch. To do this, place the pork in a roasting tin and pour over boiling water. Drain off the water and then pat dry with a clean tea towel. Then wrap in another clean tea towel and then put in the fridge overnight.

While the supermarket butcher had scored the skin, I went over it again with a Stanley knife. This also adds to the crunchiness and also makes it easier to break up (rather than using a hammer!)

perfect crackling

The roast was served up with crunchy roast potatoes (I coat mine in semolina for added texture) and Savoy cabbage. You can’t beat the combination of pork and cabbage and I particularly like the dark, green flavours of Savoy. Homemade Bramley apple sauce, cooked with cloves, added a delicious tart sweetness to cut through some of the fattiness of the roast pork.

It was a resounding success, if I say so myself.

p.s.
There were some leftovers. I am a frugal sort so I like to use them. It turns out I definitely do not like cold roast pork (unlike other denominations of roast meat), even in a sandwich with lashings of mustard pickle. However, it turns out that what I do like is meatballs!

Spiced roast pork shoulder

Serves: 4 - 6
Skill level: Medium

ingredients:
about 600g boned pork shoulder joint (or leg)
herb and spice rub:
1 tbsp brown sugar
1tbsp chopped thyme leaves
1 tsp fennel seeds, crushed or juniper berries, crushed
1 x star anise, crushed
½ tsp paprika
¼ tsp cinnamon
¼ tsp ground ginger
¼ tsp black peppercorns, crushed
¼ tsp salt

directions:

For the best crackling, place the pork in a roasting tin and pour over boiling water. Drain off the water and then pat dry with a clean tea towel. Then wrap in another clean tea towel and then put in the fridge overnight.
Preheat the oven to 220C / Gas Mark 7.
Score the fat of the pork in thin lines. (You can use a very sharp knife but I use a Stanley knife).
Mix the sugar, spices, seasoning, fennel seeds or juniper berries and thyme leaves together.
Rub the skin of the pork with a little olive oil and the spice and herb mixture.
Roast for 20 minutes, then turn down the heat to 180C / Gas Mark 4 and roast for another 35 minutes for every 500g.
Rest in a warm place, covered with foil, for about 15 minutes before carving.
Serve the pork with traditional Bramley apple sauce, roast potatoes and Savoy cabbage.

tip:

In season, replace the apple sauce with a sauce made from rhubarb. I promise you it is equally delicious.

the great tunnock teacake mystery

2011-08-15T06:21:00.032+01:00

I was walking into Kentish Town a few weeks ago, along Leighton Road; a modest street of narrow pavements, lined with London Plane trees and boxy Victorian villas. This is not a road that shouts "mystery" or even "excitement". In fact, Leighton Road is a rather typical, if dull, north London street of mixed housing, a couple of corner shops, a dodgy pub and a curry house. Although I do get my knickers in a bit of a proverbial twist every time a rather famous actor smiles and says hello to me. But apart from an occasional rise in my blood pressure, and a flurry of hormonal activity, this is not a road I find particularly thrilling. It is merely a way of getting me from home to somewhere else and back again.

So I was surprised to see boxes of Tunnock Teacakes, nestling at the base of several of the trees along the road. One box for each chosen tree and one teacake removed from each box. It was as if a rather demented Goldilocks had tasted her way along the road for flavour, quality and consistency. I was intrigued.

I am not sure if the Tunnock Teacake can be described as a Scottish delicacy or not. There are probably arguments for and against. It has been made in Scotland since 1890 and it is not, contrary to its name, a traditional "teacake" - typically a spiced and fruited flat bun served at High Tea. A Tunnock Teacake consists of a crisp round biscuit, topped with a small dome of sweet vanilla marshmallow and is entirely covered with milk chocolate. (The marshmallow has the texture of very creamy whisked egg white, rather than the stuff that Americans toast at campsites.) But I have to say that the whole thing looks a bit like a chocolate covered breast implant.

I first experienced the Tunnock Teacake on a trip to Scotland, aged eight, to stay with my mother's Greenock relatives. The Scots have something of a reputation for their collective sweet teeth. However, as children, my brother and I were denied sugary cakes and biscuits, largely I think because my mother just forgot. Well I say forgot. She just didn't buy them and rarely made them. And she would say herself it was because she was born just before the last war and was brought up during rationing; that you don't miss what you don't have. In some respects she was right. I don't have a sweet tooth and have never missed the absence of sugar in my life. But on being deluged with a cornucopia of confectionary from a load of beaming relatives, it really would have been rude not to accept their sweet largesse.

My brother and I were overwhelmed with sweet treats; we given toffee, tablet, honeycomb and sticks of rock, by the bag load. Sweets to chew, suck or crunch on. We were still eating our bounty several weeks later. To be honest there was a whole load of things I didn't recognise, and still don't. But the three things that stick out in my memory were Snowballs (coconut hell), Tunnock Teacakes (marshmallow purgatory) and Tunnock Wafers (sheer heaven). I am still partial to the odd Tunnock Wafer, many layers of thin wafer held together by toffee and chocolate. But I'm afraid the Teacake failed to delight me, although at a pinch, I would scrape off the marshmallow and eat the biscuit.

So returning to the present day, there are these distinctive yellow and red boxes of the famous Tunnock Teacake; the cakes themselves are individually wrapped in their distinctive silver and red foil. The boxes have been deliberately placed under several trees. Each box is missing one teacake.

OK, so it's not Murder She Wrote but you see why I think it is a rather intriguing mystery? Don't you? Are you not a little bit curious?

It is a mystery that I reluctantly accept that I will never solve. But what could it be?

Could it be some kind of fairytale Quality Management programme gone wrong?

A frustrated Scot, looking for a taste of home, who discovers that the Teacake, like a fine wine, does not travel? (Surely not!)

It is a tear in the universe? An indication of a portal to a world beyond?

Is it some kind of offering to a sweet toothed sprite, guardian of the Plane trees? Are their dryads on Leighton Road?

I am feeling distinctly frustrated by the knowledge that I will probably never know, although if anyone has any ideas, please do tell!

p.s.

The Teacakes remained in position for several days, despite the presence of our daily street cleaners. I am wondering if these guys were as perplexed by the placement of the boxes as I was. When I went to photograph the boxes, they had disappeared. Possibly swept up as street rubbish. Although I am hoping they were nabbed by a really large owl or perhaps the local foxes have worked out how to remove the foil, which is not as daft as it sounds since they have worked out how to open our lockable compost bins.

So I decided to recreate the scene in my back garden, in order that you could get a sense of the drama of it all. Since I had bought a box of the Teacakes, I thought that in the interest of accuracy, I really should taste one. It turns out, despite the distance of nearly 40 years, I still don't like marshmallow! But the biscuit and chocolate was very nice!

it's all gone a bit jackson pollock! (or when food photography goes wrong . . .)

2011-08-14T06:56:00.015+01:00

our Jackson Pollock moment!

It was going so well - Heathcliffe's birthday drinks party, food prepped and we moved the nibbles to the balcony to catch the late afternoon summer sun. I wanted to take some photographs for this blog.

It all went a bit Pete Tong as they say.
Fortunately there was enough left for everyone to have their fill.

In my defence, I can only assume that Heathcliffe and I were sharing a Jackson Pollock moment.

I think alcohol may have been involved!

sausages roasted with honey and mustard dressing

2011-08-13T06:31:00.000+01:00

Cocktail sausages baked with a honey and mustard dressing has a lovely sticky, tangy flavour. Another good nibble for a drinks party, although I sometimes take leftovers into work, with a light cucumber salad. I am usually forced to sharpen my elbows to fend off marauding colleagues!
This will taste better according to the quality of sausages you use. However, I recently (in a last minute rush) had to settle for a bag of frozen chipolatas from my local supermarket. They weren't perfect, but the dressing definitely hid any deficiencies in the sausages themselves!

Serves 4
Skill level: Easy

ingredients:
30 cocktail sausages
3 tbsp runny honey
3-4 tbsp wholegrain mustard

directions:

Preheat the oven to 200C / Gas Mark 6.
Combine the honey and mustard in a mixing bowl.
Place the sausages in a roasting dish and pour over the honey mustard dressing, ensuring that the sausages are well coated.
Bake in the oven for 20 to 25 minutes. (It may need another 5 minutes to get all the sausages browned).
Turn the sausages occasionally to ensure that they are nicely browned.
Serve with a ketchup dip or green salad.

tip:

Replace the honey and mustard with 3 to 4 tablespoons of a good quality jam, chutney or marmalade, together with 1 tablespoon of Chinese Five Spice powder, 1 to 2 cloves of finely chopped garlic and a splash of wine vinegar as well as 2 tablespoons of soy sauce.

party food on a stick: cherry tomatoes, mozzarella and pesto

2011-08-12T06:53:00.000+01:00

cherry tomatoes, pesto and mozzarella
on a stick

This is ideal party food - intensely savoury, yet slightly sweet, mouthfuls of deliciousness. On a stick. Use the sweetest cherry tomatoes or baby plum tomatoes that you find. I would say make your own pesto, but failing that, buy pesto from a deli or from the deli counter of your supermarket. (Please don't use that stuff in jars that has a strangely subdued colour and a distinct flavour of rancid cheese). So make your own, it's a revelation.

I find when I serve these at parties, people will munch their way through a couple of these sticks, while chatting away and slurping at wine. After a few of these, people find themselves saying "Damn, these are good." There's always a slight element of surprise that something so simple can be so pleasurable!

Skill level: Easy although a bit fiddly

ingredients:

cherry or baby plum tomatoes

fresh mozzarella

fresh pesto

cocktail sticks

directions:

Slice the top of each tomato. Scoop out the seeds in both the main body of the tomato and it's "lid". Make sure that you don't pierce the skin of the tomato. (I tend to loosen the seeds with a sharp knife and then scoop the rest out using a teaspoon).
Turn the tomatoes upside down to drain of any juice. I tend to arrange them with their "lids", so that each "lid" will fit later!
Drain the mozzarella and chop into pea-sized pieces.
To assemble, drip a small dollop of pesto into the cavity of the tomato.
Gently stuff in a piece of mozzarella.
Take the tomato "lid" and place on top.
Holding this together, skewer through the "lid" with a cocktail stick.
Serve at room temperature.

summer pea soup

2011-08-11T06:31:00.007+01:00

summer pea soup

A rather nice soup for spring or summer, whether using young sweet peas, floury late summer peas or even frozen peas, (which because they are frozen at source retain their natural sweetness). It is delicious served hot or cold and you can use just about any green herb, such as thyme, chives or even coriander with a bit of green chilli. I stick to mint, which traditionally enhances the English pea.

I recently served this at a drinks party, at room temperature, in shot glasses. It was perfect nibble for a summer party. Later on I discovered one of the guests wielding a ladle in the kitchen and helping himself to more. "I've never had anything like this, Rache. I just can't help myself . . ." I was delighted, although I am convinced it was less to do with my cooking and more to do with using home-made chicken stock!

Serves 4 - 6
Skill level: Easy

ingredients:
600g fresh or frozen peas, or a mixture of both
olive oil
1 x small English onion, finely chopped
1-2 x garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 litre good quality chicken or vegetable stock
10 mint leaves, shredded plus more to garnish
salt and freshly ground black pepper
a pinch of sugar

directions:

Gently fry the onion until softened but not browned (about 5 minutes).
Add the garlic, stir, cover and continue to cook for a further 2 minutes.
Add the peas and stock. Bring to a gentle boil and simmer for about 6 to 8 minutes.
Take off the heat and check the seasoning, which will be dependent on how salty and peppery your stock is.
Add a pinch of sugar and stir. This helps to bring out the natural sweetness of the peas.
Stir in the shredded mint leaves.
Set aside to cool slightly.
Purée in a food processor or using a blender. (You can also sieve it at this stag for extra smoothness).
Serve either hot or cold, with a small sprig of mint.

tips:

Before serving, stir in a swirl of double cream or crème fraiche.
Top with strips of crisp pancetta or prosciutto ham.
Top with crumbled crunchy pancetta or prosciutto ham.
Use coriander rather than mint, together with 1 green chilli, deseeded and finely chopped. (Fry the chilli off with the onion and garlic).
Garnish with snipped chives.

this being a tale of serendipity and liquid enchantment: the velvet slipper cocktail

2011-08-10T06:39:00.002+01:00

velvet slipper cocktail

It sounds like such a small thing but I am feeling a little serendipitous; ("serendipity" is one of my favourite words, if you're interested and my only claim to fame is that I got it mentioned as "The Word of the Day" on the Words for Life website).

So why serendipity? Well a few days ago, I had restored an old DVD full of ancient files I haven't looked at in years, because I had thought that the DVD was damaged beyond repair. On it I rediscovered this fabulous cocktail, the recipe for which I had also assumed lost for good.
Now, it's not that it is hard to make. It's not that there aren't 100s of very similar cocktails out there. It is just that this one has some very happy associations as well as delightful tastebud-tingling memories.

So I present to you the Velvet Slipper . . . it is soft and luxurious cocktail with a jewel-like colour and a decadent finish!

I discovered this cocktail on a weary Sunday afternoon having battled with a shocking cold for a few days. (Fortunately I’m not a bloke, so it wasn’t life-threatening).

I’m not a great fan of fruit but this is a particularly delicious way of getting my "Five A Day" . . . with copious amounts of vodka - a sort of alchoholic fruit smoothie!

Do not be fooled by the deceptively gentle name. There is nothing fairy tale about this drink at all, though it should have a happy ending.

Makes about a litre
Skill level: Easy

ingredients:220g caster sugar (or vanilla caster sugar)
1 mug x water
200g blackberries (also works well with a bag of frozen summer fruits)
150g raspberries
juice of 1 lemon
360ml vodka (vanilla vodka if possible)
20ml Cointreau or brandy (optional)

directions:

Put water and sugar in a heavy based saucepan and stir over a medium heat until the sugar dissolves.
Add most of the berries into the sugar water and heat through. Crush the berries (using either a wooden spoon or a potato masher, giving a rough texture).
Set aside the mixture to cool.
Blend the mixture until a smooth liquid, then sieve to get rid of the fruit seeds. (A friend assures me that the fruity pips are yummy on toast . . . I suppose it depends on how much you like picking the damn things out of your teeth!)
Add the vodka, lemon juice and Cointreau or brandy if using to the fruit mixture and chill.
To serve: fill highball or other tall glasses with crushed ice and top with the vodka berry mixture.

tip:
Replace the vodka with rum and the lemon with lime juice.

herby courgette and feta fritters

2011-08-09T07:39:00.002+01:00

A friend's birthday drinks and nibbles and we are eating on his roof terrace on a balmy summer night. These fritters were perfect; a little bit of the eastern Mediterranean came to east London.

A great way to make use of a courgette glut, these fritters make a fabulous mezze dish, but are perfect for a light lunch too. The onions, feta cheese and herbs also manage to jazz up what can be a quite bland vegetable but meets it's saviours with a little help!

Skill level: Easy

ingredients:
500g courgettes, coarsely grated
olive oil
1 x onion, finely chopped
3 x garlic cloves, finely chopped
2 x eggs
breadcrumbs
200g feta, crumbled
a handful of fresh herbs, roughly chopped - I use a mixture of mint, dill and flat-leaf parsley (less mint more parsley!)
¼ tsp cayenne pepper or smoked paprika
salt and freshly ground black pepper

directions:

Place the grated courgettes in a large colander or sieve over a bowl and sprinkle over about 2 teaspoons of salt. Leave to drain for about 30 minutes. Then rinse and leave to drain again. Squeeze out the water. Place in a clean tea-towel and squeeze again to remove any excess water. Set aside.
Gently fry the chopped onion until softened (about 10 minutes). Do not allow to brown.
Add the garlic and stir. Continue to cook for 2 minutes. Set aside to cool.
Lightly beat the eggs.
Mix the courgettes, cooled onion and garlic mixture together with the chopped herbs and crumbled feta cheese. Add the spices including a grinding of black pepper. You probably won't need to add any salt at this stage but check the seasoning just in case.
Combine with the beaten egg.
At this point, if the mixture seems too runny to form the fritters, add about 1 tablespoon of dried breadcrumbs and stir. Leave for about 10 minutes to allow the breadcrumbs to absorb the moisture and help bind the mix together.
Form into fritter or patty shapes. I tend to form balls about the size of a tablespoon and then slightly flatten them for easy of frying.
Refrigerate for 30 minutes before cooking in batches.
Heat about 1 tbsp olive oil in a frying-pan on a medium heat. When hot, add the fritters. They will spread out a bit. They will begin to set and turn a golden-brown colour after about 2 minutes. Flip them over and cook the other side.
These are delicious on their own or served with a tangy tomato dipping sauce.

tips:

You can the coat the fritters in extra breadcrumbs for a crunchier texture.
Use different cheeses. I have made these with stilton (divine) and mozzarella (amazing).

turkish-style stuffed tomatoes

2011-08-08T07:31:00.032+01:00

On my mission to be frugal I had decided not to throw out some leftover rice, intending to make a Turkish or Greek rice stuffing for some kind of vegetable. I would decide on which vegetable to use when I actually got to the market and saw what was available. Of course all my frugal intentions went out the window when I saw (actually smelt first) a beautiful mound of the plumpest most scarlet tomatoes I have ever seen.

Still on the vine, you could smell their intense green clove-like aroma from about 30 feet away. I had to have them. At all costs. This turned out to be the debt of a small sovereign nation) All my frugal intentions went out the window.

So using leftovers, or starting from scratch with uncooked rice, this was a perfect summer dish, whether cold as mezze or to accompany a Sunday roast.

Serves 4:
Skill level: Easy

ingredients:
8 large ripe tomatoes
cooked rice
olive oil
1 x small onion, finely chopped
1 x garlic clove, finely chopped
1 tsp ground cinnamon
a pinch of allspice
1 tbsp dried sour cherries, roughly chopped (or currants)
1 tbsp pine nuts, lightly toasted
tomato puree
a pinch of caster sugar
a splash of sherry vinegar
vegetable stock or water
salt and freshly ground black pepper
fresh parsley, finely chopped

directions:

If you're using uncooked rice, you will need to cook it. I'm not going to go into details as I am sure you have a favourite method. All I would say is cook them in vegetable (or chicken) stock to inject some extra flavour. Set aside to cool or use leftover cooked rice.
Slice a small lid off the top of each tomato, wide enough to get a teaspoon in. With a sharp knife or teaspoon, gouge out the tomato pulp and seeds, but making sure that the tomato is intact.
Turn the tomatoes upside down on a wooden chopping board to drain.
Save the pulp and any of the tomato juices. I sieve the pulp and press down on the seeds, keeping any of the juice. The seeds do release extra tomato flavour.
Gently fry the onion in the olive oil until soft but not browned (about 10 minutes).
Add the crushed garlic and stir. Cook for another minute or two.
Add the rice, reserved tomato juice, spices, sour cherries (or currants), pine nuts and the rice. Stir well to ensure that everything is well coated with spice.
Add a little tomato puree for extra tomato flavour, a splash of sherry vinegar and a pinch of sugar. If more liquid is required add a little vegetable stock or water (about a tablespoon or so), you probably won't need much.
Ensure that all of the rice is coated in the cooked spices.
Check the seasoning and adjust if necessary.
Set aside to cool and add a tablespoon of chopped parsley.
Preheat the oven to 180 C / Gas Mark 4.
Pack each of the tomatoes with the rice stuffing and perch each of the tomato lids on top.
Slop some water in a roasting tin or baking dish (about 1cm in depth). Place the tomatoes in the tin and drizzle over a shimmer of olive oil.
Bake for 20 to 25 minutes until they are softened and are beginning to collapse.
They are delicious served hot or cold.