turkish poached eggs in yogurt (cilbir)

Turkish poached eggs in yogurt (cilbir)

I have a feeling that when I meet new people I have barely got the social niceties out of the way before I am grilling them on their favourite foods. Omer was no exception, as he told me about cilbir, a Turkish egg and yogurt dish, his favourite comfort food from childhood. Sadly, something got a bit lost in translation as Omer's passionate defence of gloopy eggs in a sour yogurt sauce sounded, frankly, revolting. But then Omer isn't much of a cook and hadn't actually cooked it himself. And in trying to get firmer details, I struggled as my Turkish is non-existent too.

flemish asparagus

asparagus with Flemish sauce

It is English asparagus season for which I will happily bellow three cheers (being such a shy and retiring person during the rest of the year . . .). But there are times when after I have sated myself with asparagus and melted butter or asparagus and Hollandaise sauce or even just asparagus dipped into a soft boiled egg, that I start to think about other ways of eating this glorious and short-seasoned vegetable. Will I do something spicy, Chinese-style? Or perhaps with a Mediterranean twist with lemon and chillies?

fancy breakfast or brunch? baked egg and proscuitto in a bread roll

baked egg and proscuitto in a bread roll

Every so often I find a couple of rock-hard bread rolls looking up at me forlornly from the bread bin. One of my favourite things to do with them is to reheat the rolls, stuffed full of a few of my favourite things - ham, cheese and eggs and a little fresh basil. A fabulous breakfast or brunch.

kaya toast: a weird but wonderful breakfast of champions!

kaya toast with soy eggs

It's not really weird, although it might sound a bit odd to English tastes. It's a Singapore-Malaysian thing - kaya toast for breakfast at a kopitiam (coffee shop). Coconut jam (kaya), which is very similar to say lemon curd, but made with coconut milk, is slathered over hot white toast, which is then sandwiched together with a slice of cold butter. Dunk this sweet toast into a bowl of very soft-boiled eggs with soy sauce. Sounds weird? Tastes heavenly!

the gentle heart of a recipe: hilda leyel's salad of mint leaves and beans

hilda leyel's salad of mint leaves and beans

Whenever I can, I like to wallow in old cookbooks. It both comforts and relaxes me; I enjoy immersing myself in the food of older times; ferreting out bits of lost knowledge and useful thoughts.

roasted vegetable frittata

roasted vegetable frittata

There is an advert on the telly at the moment for a well-known food brand. It irritates me for a number of reasons, not least because it is twee and patronising. (That the company in question have hash tagged it with #cosy, probably says it all.)

dragons' eggs (or chinese tea eggs)

chinese tea eggs

My family was divided as to what the strange, mottled boiled eggs that were sold at various corner grocers shops and hawker stalls in Kuala Lumpur were called. My mother and little brother were convinced that they these were tiny dinosaur eggs. My father and I were equally satisfied that they were dragons' eggs.

eggs fried with breadcrumbs and herbs

eggs fried with breadcrumbs and herbs

The first time I had these eggs I experienced something of a hallelujah moment; I couldn't make up my mind whether to get down on my knees to pray or just sing and dance around the kitchen. (I settled for singing and dancing, as I wasn't sure that, at my age, once down, I would easily make it back up again to devour the second egg I’d cooked.)

egg sambal (malaysian spicy eggs)

egg sambal

I don't have a bucket list. If I did, it would be more likely to be a big, fat cauldron - a list of fabulous things that I must eat or cook before I die. Recently I cooked something that I can now cross off my cauldron list, one that I would suggest everyone should try at least once. If you have never experienced deep-fried hard-boiled eggs, you really haven't lived.

nasi goreng (malaysian fried rice)

nasi goreng

It's not often that I turn from mild-mannered cook by day into my foodie crime-fighting alter-ego; righting food wrongs with a wave of my magic feather boa. I am not saying that the feather boa actually works, but I prefer it to a cape and too-tight knickers; to each super hero(ine) their own fashion-sense. It seems to work for me.

devilled eggs: time for a revival?

devilled eggs

Almost from the moment that humans first learned to cook an egg, I suspect that they were "devilling" (spicing) them too. We know that the Romans such as the gourmand Apicius liked their egg recipes; I suspect those ancients liked theirs drizzled in garum or liquamen (highly pungent sauces made from fermented fish - possibly an acquired taste!) The sadly maligned Victorians would devil just about anything, which goes to prove that in food, at least, they were neither particularly conservative nor unadventurous. And I would defy anyone to find a cookbook on entertaining from the 1950s, 60s and 70s that didn't include these brightly coloured little numbers.

deep- fried breaded camembert with spicy plum sauce

deep-fried camembert with spicy plum sauce

As a truculent teen-aged vegetarian, I wasn't expecting much (well too many veggie options) from the French bistro my long-suffering parents had dragged me to. But my gloomy expectations were turned upside down; the first course of deep-fried Camembert with a gooseberry sauce was a bit of a revelation for me. It was so good, that I had it for my second course since by now I was in melted cheese nirvana and never wanted to leave.

Since gooseberries aren't in season, but plums are, I made a sweet but spicy plum compote (again!) to go with the gooey cheese bites. Any leftover plums are fabulous in a crumble too, so you have two recipes for the price of one.

lost in france: my salade lyonnaise

salade lyonnaise (bacon and egg salad)

After walking around a small town in southern France for what seemed like hours, we still hadn't found either our friends we were meeting for lunch. We are lost in France and not in a big-haired, floaty chiffon 1970s soft focus kind of way; no birds singing, bands playing or people dancing (just the rumble of traffic and me scowling). I am hot, dusty, and footsore and, possibly more importantly, I haven't eaten for more than three hours. Quelle horreur! 

flying saucer eggs with grilled vine tomatoes, mushrooms and red chard

Healthy breakfast with grilled tomatoes, mushrooms, red chard and flying saucer eggs

I wanted a substantial breakfast to set me up for the weekend. This one does the job and is surprisingly healthy. Of course it would have been even healthier if I had left out the butter, but mushrooms and butter are a marriage made in heaven and I couldn't resist.

a lazy girl's brunch: smoked salmon and poached egg open face sandwich

smoked salmon and poached egg with
beyaz peynir and asian pickle open face sandwich

At some point of an evening out with friends the conversation will inevitably turn to food. It probably always has done, but since I have started blogging about food it has got much worse and I do try to rein it in, but sometimes I just can't help myself. I don't mean "worse" as in "bad", I just mean that given my inclinations I could probably monopolise any and every conversation and turn it around to food. And it's not because I want to talk about what I've cooked, I love hearing what other people are eating and why. Besides talking about food is definitely far more interesting than any discussion of reality TV or the latest budget crisis. But on this particular night I was in for a bit of an unpleasant surprise.

a seductive blood orange curd

blood orange curd

I woke up blearily, befuddled with sleep, and looked out my bedroom windows to see what the day was bringing. Oh dear god, I thought. Those windows are in need of a serious spring clean. It turned out it wasn't my windows that were grubby; it was the filthy grey sky that was in definite need of a clean, having lost its spring sparkle.

love your leftovers! spaghetti frittata

spaghetti frittata

There are two insights I have always wanted from Italian cooks. The first is, is there a special gadget (other than elbow grease) to remove baked on mozzarella cheese - you know those times when the lasagne dish looks like a relief map of the Moon with cheesy encrustations) and the second is, what do Italians do with leftover pasta?

I am yet to find the magic de-cheeser (and if anyone knows of one, please let me know), but I have discovered that Italians, being a thrifty bunch, have a fabulous way of using up leftover pasta by using it in frittatas including a little leftover sauce too.

flipping marvellous! stuffed Italian-style pancakes (crespelle)

Italian-style stuffed pancakes with ricotta,
and  tomato and mushroom sauce

While it has become traditional to eat pancakes on Shrove Tuesday dusted with sugar and drizzled with lemon juice, or smeared with Nutella, I actually prefer savoury pancakes stuffed with cheese and spinach. In fact I like them stuffed with the same sort of things that you would use to fill a tortilla or dosa, such as spicy beans or curried potatoes or lentils.

I made some last year but the photographs I took looked like a dog's dinner - if that dinner had been ravaged by frenzied wolves. Pretty it was not, unless you like your food to have the appearance of some kind of slasher movie gore-fest.

I still haven't got the picture right, but what I can tell you is that while it may not be pretty, it tastes gorgeous and appeals to my sense of taste which mostly craves an intensely savoury experience.

i still haven't put off childish things . . . a bit of nostalgia and a few pancake tips!

Shrove Tuesday pancakes or
the home of The Clangers?

When I was a small child growing up in England, television viewing in the Kelly household was very strictly regulated. Admittedly in those far off days, all television was rather limited since there were only a few television channels and there was no such thing as all-day viewing. Pre-school children had their own programmes with Watch with Mother at lunchtime and again in the late afternoon.

Our television (and yes, in those days, most families only had one), was positioned high up on top of a large wooden cabinet in our living room, out of reach of little hands. (Well my hands in particular.)

nigel slater's carrot and coriander fritters

nigel slater's carrot and coriander fritters

For years, I didn't much care for the herb coriander. The spice? Yes. The herb? Definitely not. The simple reason is because I am one of some ten per cent of the world's population that can taste the aldehydes in coriander, which also appear in soap. So what tastes like a slightly citrusy and aromatic herb to you, tastes of lemon-scented soapy washing up liquid to me. I think you'll agree that this isn't very appetising at all!