a simple pleasure: tomatoes on toast (pan con tomate)

tomatoes on toast (pan con tomate)

Contrary to my family lore, my father Henry did not invent tomatoes-on-toast. But ask any member of the family and you will find that one of their all-abiding memories will be of my father eating tomatoes on toast, tomatoes on crackers, tomatoes on biscuits or sometimes, just on their own. This is a man who has no shame and will quite happily forage in other people's kitchens for a simple snack at all times of the day or night, evidenced by a smear of tomato pips, dried-up nubs of garlic and a trail of crumbs.

another guilty pleasure: homemade pork scratchings

homemade spicy pork scratchings

Pork scratchings are something of a guilty but satisfying pleasure. Yes, they are fatty and a little greasy, but oh dear lord, they taste good. It's 6 Nations season right now, and there is nothing like watching the rugby with a pint of good ale and a bowl of these wicked salty snacks. The only problem is that they are so moreish, that one bowl is never enough!

stuffed mushrooms with lentils, bacon, parsley pesto and Stilton

stuffed mushrooms with lentils, bacon, parsley pesto and Stilton

I think I must have inherited my late Scottish mother's somewhat parsimonious approach to food waste - a little part of me dies every time I open the kitchen compost canister to throw away anything other than vegetable peelings, tea bags or burnt toast. But a frugal approach to food, waste and in particular, in leftovers, doesn't have to be austere, puritanical or even joyless. It can be fun. No, really. It really can.

This is not so much a recipe, but a suggestion of how to use up several spoonful’s of leftovers and a few forgotten inhabitants of the fridge.

pigs in blankets - not just for christmas

Pigs in Blankets with Christmas spices

Pigs in Blankets are one of the traditional accompaniments to the British Christmas roast turkey. Since I am not a fan of turkey, at Christmas or any other time of the year, the pigs in blankets are often the best thing about Christmas dinner. Harsh but true.

Intensely savoury and moreish, I find Pigs in Blankets irresistible.

winter warming pea and parsnip soup with bacon

pea and parsnip soup

I have mentioned before, that while I adore parsnips, I am not always convinced by parsnip soups awash with curry spices, although Nigel Slater's spicy parsnip soup is one of my absolute favourites. I was on a mission to create a parsnip soup recipe that didn't include the usual suspects.

Did you know that peas and parsnips are kissing cousins in the world of flavour compounds? No me neither. But it turns out that they both contain one of those completely unpronounceable compounds, which accounts for their affinity with each other. (OK, its 3-sec-butyl-2-methoxypyrazine - aren't you glad you asked!)

thai-style tuna fishcakes

Thai-style tuna fishcakes

These little fish cakes explode with the flavours of south east Asia – garlic, galangal, chilli, lime and lemongrass. Mine may not be particularly authentic, but they are quick and easy to make and taste delicious with a bowl of ginger-spring onion or chilli noodles, or a spicy noodle soup. They also make a fabulous party nibble with a chilli or soy dipping sauce.

a tale in which i face my fears: beef and beetroot patties

beef and beetroot patties

It was cold and dark and we were standing in the pitch black of a field in the middle of the countryside. No ambient light, just a massive bonfire (for it was Bonfire Night), a few torches and the headlights of a Landrover. I welcomed the mug of soup handed to me through the dank November darkness and thanked the farmer's wife for the kind thought and the hot homemade soup. 

it's the cat's whiskers! smoked mackerel pâté

smoked mackerel pâté with
Peters Yard crisp breads

When Papa, Mama and Baby Bear returned home, they sensed immediately that something or someone had been eating their porridge and sleeping in their beds. When I walked into my parent's dining room to make some last minute checks before the party started, I immediately knew that something was wrong. It wasn't some kind of sixth sense or hairs rising on the back of my neck or even the pricking of my thumbs. My Goldilocks was right there, caught in the act.

my life just got a little spicier! sainsbury's harissa paste and mini lamb burgers

sainsbury's harissa paste with
mini lamb burgers

If you have been reading this blog for some time, you may have realised that I do like to cook from scratch. It is not that I am all holier-than-thou about ready-meals; God knows that M+S cheese and tomato pasta bake has kept me fuelled on many occasions. And I cannot imagine life in the kitchen without Lea + Perrins Worcestershire sauce. 

But in my experience, most of the ready-made sauces and pastes on supermarket shelves just aren't to my taste. Before I began cooking I did used to use these sorts of products, but added so many ingredients to them to improve the flavour, that I realised I might as well as cook from scratch. I also find many of these ready-made products far too sweet, a little gluey in texture and many have a peculiarly cloying and synthetic aftertaste. 

a little burger - perfect party food, which slides right down!

mini beef burgers with capers

mini sour dough burger bun

  I had been playing around with my bread dough again. Often when I try to bake bread rolls, they spread in the oven and I end up with something that flat rather than rounded. What would happen, I wondered, if I plonked my rolls in a silicone bun tray? Mini burger buns by the looks of things! This means, I need to make burgers. A nice symmetry I think! 

Burger aficionados will have an opinion on the type and even the cut of meat included in their burger. I opened the freezer to forage and I discovered minced beef, which fortunately was on the fatty side (which I believe adds flavour and definitely stops the burgers from drying out). So that's what we had; no argument.

on life's big questions and the taste of stuffed aubergines . . . imam bayildi

imam bayildi - swoon!

Over the years I have been accused of Winnie-the-Pooh-like tendencies. I suspect this is as much to do with having a very little brain and obsession with where my next meal is coming from than any really philosophical leanings. But every so often I start to ponder Life's big questions. Tiddly pom!

stuffed vine leaves

stuffed vine leaves
(dolma)

It is quite hard to imagine how a recipe for stuffed vine leaves esteemed at the court of the 7th century Persian king, Khosrau II, beloved by the caliphs of Baghdad and cherished by the Ottoman sultans, was recorded in her book of reciepts by Lady Ann Blencowe, daughter of a mathematician and cryptographer and wife of a Northamptonshire Member of Parliament in 1694. She must have been quite a gal to recognise the quality of this delicious Middle Eastern mezze.

five! four! three! two! one! blast off for delicious rocket soup!

rocket soup

If this rocket soup had a soundtrack it would be more Barney the Dinosaur than Goldfrapp, but nonetheless it is the perfect summer soup. It is very easy to make and not in the least sophisticated - light but intensely savoury with a hint of pepper. 

This soup was topped with a few crunchy croutons I had made with some stale sourdough bread and some oil that had been used to fry up some chorizo - heavily infused with paprika and garlic. Heavenly.

chorizo and nutella: a winning combination!

chorizo and Nutella party bites

When Spanish pigs graze on acorns and olives, the resulting jamón ibérico de bellota ham is the stuff that dreams are made of, with a higher fat content and more flavour than other types of ham. It occurred to me that slices of ham with some kind of nut mixture might be a winning combination. I like the idea of companion eating - serving meat with the kind of fruit or vegetables the live animal might have eaten - so venison with blackberries, or pork with apple. I like the way they complement each other both in nature and in the kitchen.

sweetcorn fritters with crème fraîche, hot smoked salmon and chives

sweetcorn fritters with crème fraîche
and hot smoked salmon

My friend Rachael rescues retired battery hens, who like jaded showgirls arrive with tattered feathers and fading plumage. She seems to name her birds after Victorian parlour maids (Gladys, Betty, Mildred and Flo), who once they have acclimatised to their new life, learn to roost and overcome their fear of the outdoors, to roam across her property, where they like nothing more than to gorge on sweetcorn and chase marshmallows up and down the lawn!

smoked salmon pâté with peter's yard crispbreads

smoked salmon pâté

If my mother taught me anything about cooking it was about being prepared and keeping things simple. She loved hosting parties, but she always ensured that she had prepared some of the dishes in advance, keeping herself serene. I can only dream of serenity. My default position is more Tasmanian Devil, (dim-witted and short-tempered) than glamorous Rachel Allen, the cookery Queen of Serene! Which is why many of my mother's cold soup or fish pâté recipes, easily prepared a couple of days before the main event, are now part of my hoard of good party recipes. Effortlessly delectable; the perfect party food.

an open mind to the awful weather gave me broad bean hummus!

broad bean hummus

Deciding what to cook for Sunday lunch, I decided I wanted something fresh and summer-tasting, on the basis that is actually summer and the sun had come out. I bought a shoulder of lamb to stuff with something suitably summery; I hadn't quite decided but was plumping for feta, fresh oregano and mi cuit tomatoes and planning on serving the whole dish with my herby tomato and mint sauce. I was rather looking forward to what I thought might be a winning combination.

lamb and feta morsels - let the party begin!

lamb and feta morsels

What is it about party food on a stick that we like so much? I suspect that like me, there are many British people of a certain age (cough, cough) who remember the joys of cheese and pineapple hedgehogs, along with cheese footballs and Twiglets . . . we see a cocktail stick and it speaks to us. "Eat me" it says, not in a trippy Alice in Wonderland kind of a way, but in the way that entices; "this will be fun. It will make you happy. Let's party!" 

I can remember the very first time I ate satay in Malaysia - chicken on a stick served with a sticky peanut sauce. I was seven years old and this food delighted me. It was fun, novel to my English eyes and tasted so very good too.

a case of culinary serendipity: jerusalem artichoke and creamed spinach soup

jerusalem artichoke soup with
creamed spinach

The English language is a treasure chest of beautiful words and not just because our ancestors pillaged the globe absconding with words from other languages that suited their purposes. English is a glorious hodgepodge of Germanic roots and a liberal sprinkling of Latin, Ancient Greek, Norman French as well as bits of Old Norse, Dutch, Hindi and Urdu. Such is the flexibility of English, it is able to assimilate all sorts of foreign words as well as nonsense words. One of my favourite words is a made-up one: Serendipity - the accident of finding something good or useful without looking for it. Not only does it have such a lovely meaning, but like a small child happily babbling nonsense, it seems to bubble with happiness . . . which brings me on to my soup.

a deceptively gentle soup: leek and cannellini bean soup with chilli oil

leek and cannellini bean soup
with chilli oil

It was one of those deceptive spring days; sparkling with sunshine but with an icy coolness. I had baked a loaf of sourdough bread and as the kitchen was filled with enticing toasty yeast aromas, I was wondering what to make for lunch.

Last year I posted a recipe for a leek and butter bean soup. It is one of my favourites; a beautiful yellow-green colour and full of bright, zingy flavours. But to suit this day, I wanted a guileful, creamy soup packed with spring vegetables and a chilli bite.