Lemon Whatevers

Unlike some who share my need to steer clear of gluten and dairy, I would rather simply go without baked fare, rather than subject my tastebuds to the various bread and cake concoctions which now nestle on our shop shelves. Those I have tasted seem simply dry, as heavy as a sumo wrestler and about as visually appealing. And have you seen the amount of preservatives and other strange additional ingredients which are necessary to make these goods palatable? Baking is a precise artform and so why mess with time tested recipes? No, it is enough for me to create cupcakes for others and to take the pleasure in the measuring, creaming and icing. To smell freshly baked baguettes whilst buying my coffee. Until today.

Perhaps it was the sunshine, the satisfying fug of the cake baked for friends or the realisation that life is too short to agonise over the thought of eating a few extra calories. Whatever the reason, temptation stretched its talons and firmly gripped me. Surely it is possible to make something approaching tasty with alternative ingredients?

I consulted various websites and finally opted for Gluten Free Girl. Her lemon oil cookies seemed harmless enough (and not overly calorific) and so I started converting US measurements, adapting ingredients to my taste and threw a few in of my own. Rather than cookies however, the ensuing mixture was more akin to that of a cake or muffin batter, and so I poured it into individual cake cases. Are they a biscuit? A cake? Of that, I'm not sure. The ground almonds ensure a frangipane like taste and moist texture and the lemon essence masks the strange taste I simply can't get used to of soya flour. I'm not sure that I'll be making these every week (my hips will be very glad of that statement), however more of them may end up in my stomach as opposed to the bin, than I had anticipated. So here they are. Biscuit/cake/Lemon Whatevers.

Lemon Whatevers

4tbsp soya yogurt

4tbsp olive oil

slug lemon essence (or limoncello)

rind and juice of 1 lemon

1 egg, beaten

360g rice flour

120g gram flour

240g ground almonds

240g golden caster sugar

1tsp gluten free baking powder

handful or so of dried cherries

Preheat the oven to 180C / gas 4.

Measure the yogurt and oil into a bowl and mix to combine. Add the egg, lemon rind, juice and essence. Mix well.

Combine all the dry ingredients and fold into the wet ones until combined, adding the cherries towards the end.

Spoon into cake cases and bake for approximately 20 minutes until set.

Rest for five minutes in the tin then remove onto a wire rack to cook.

Bite, chew and swallow - along with any preconceptions about alternative baked goodies.

Apples & Blackberries - Technology in a Cake

It is strange to think that for people born from 1990 onwards, their immediate thought when faced with the words 'apple' and 'blackberry' will most likely be of the latest ipod or mac and mobile communication device, rather than a shiny, crisp fruit and a cluster of tart berries.

I am somewhat of a techno phobe however an increase of time on the road forced me to join the 21st century and to succomb to the allures of the latest BlackBerry (free of charge I hasten to add thanks to hard bargaining). That was a month ago. I've dabbled with trying to make it pick up emails but each attempt has left the air blue and, on one occassion, witnessed me hurling the blessed device across the room.

So, when invited over to my lovely friends for Sunday lunch (one of whom just happens to be the rising star of the BBC on all things techie), I seized the opportunity to seek advice on the rotten handset. As a rather apt thank you, and contribution to lunch, I decided to make a cake on a vague techno theme - an apple and blackberry cake. With nuts. Because that's what the whole damned thing is slowly driving me.

Apple, Blackberry & Pecan Cake

150g unsalted butter, softened

150g light brown muscovado sugar, plus a handful

150g self-raising sugar

1tsp ground cinnamon

3 eggs, beaten

2tbsp milk

2 eating apples, peeled, cored and cut into chunks

100g pecan nuts, chopped

100g blackberries

Pre-heat the oven to 180C / gas 4. Grease an 8'/20cm cake tin.

Cream the butter and sugar until pale and fluffy. Add the cinnamon to the flour then add a spoon of flour and a little of the egg to the creamed sugar and stir to combine. Repeat until egg and flour are all incorporated. Add the milk and stir.

Add the apple to the mixture (but save one handful) with the pecans and blackberries. Stir well.

Pour into the cake tin and level with a spatula. Scatter over the remaining apple and then sprinkle over a good handful of sugar (this makes a lovely glaze and fruity topping to the cake).

Bake in the oven for around 1hour (until a skewer can be inserted and comes out clean).

Slices were served after my friend's delicious lamb with dollops of creme fraiche. A bit of a success. Unlike the BlackBerry which is still a rather glamorous phone.

Apples and blackberries? They may work for some but I'll stick to communicating through my favourite medium. Food.

Root Veg and Feta Gratin

Yes, I know, it's been nearly 11 months since I last posted anything. Those who know me understand why. Those who don't can only imagine.

The thing is that I have emerged stronger, happier and with a few more wrinkles that could tell a few stories.

I have cooked for friends infrequently and for myself often, yet lost the urge to 'create' and to blog. I have taken photos of numerous dishes throughout the year, intent on blogging, but simply didn't have the headspace nor the energy to follow through. The birthday cake for one darling friend, the miso and chilli salmon with wilted Asian greens for another, the salads and Lebanese dishes for various friends, the various steamed fish dishes I have created and tweaked for myself, the batches of eccles mincepies for various parties. Memories attached to each yet the pace of my silly life has not allowed me the space to blog. I am lucky enough to have had a few complaints and encouragement about this dirth, so, in a fit of complete arrogance, I am continuing! And I will, to the few readers I had, find another way of sharing my scribblings about my other life, without inviting such trauma! I'll be in touch.......

This is a heartening dish I cooked a few nights ago. The wind was biting, the cold was nibbling at every single extremity and so root vegetables and cheese were the only option. This is adapted from a Peter Gordon recipe which appeared in this month's Observer Food Monthly recipe.

Root Vegetable Gratin with Sage and Feta

serves 2-3 as main dish, 4-6 as side dish

1 medium sized swede, peeled and sliced very thinly

2 sweet potatoes, peeled and thinly sliced

100g pack feta, rinsed and crumbled (I used 1/2 fat feta)

small handful of sage leaves, shredded

nutmeg

350g celeriac, peeled and thinly sliced

1/2 leek, rinsed and thinly sliced

150ml boiling water

splash white wine

Preheat the oven to 180C/gas 4.

Oil a baking dish and place half the swede and sweet potato slices on the base of the dish. Scatter over half the feta and half the sage with a little seasoning and a fresh grating of nutmeg. Lay the celeriac slices ontop, followed by the leek then the rest of the feta and sage.

Put the remainder of the swede and sweet potato slices on top, pour in the boiling water with a splash of wine, season again and grate more fresh nutmeg on the top.

Make a cartouche by brushing one side of a sheet on baking parchment (the same size as your dish) with oil and lay on top of the veg. Cover with foil and seal tightly.

Bake for 1 1/2 hours then remove the covers and blast under a hot grill to crisp the upper layer.

Lovely when served on top of steamed spinach.

Piquant Parsley Paste

A visit to Borough Market (for research purposes - something simmering with the Londonist website) saw me scuttling home with, amongst other goodies, diver-caught scallops, vine tomatoes, large flat mushrooms and handfuls of one of my favourite herbs; flat-leaf parsley.

Feeling rather like a contestant on Ready, Steady Cook, I opened my fridge door, perused the contents of my cupboards and decided on the following dish:
Griddled Scallops with Stuffed Mushrooms and Roasted Tomatoes
Easy!

Piquant Parsley Paste
This is just lovely and can be used with a whole myriad of things: stuff a whole fish; spread on grilled aubergine slices, spread with soft goats cheese and roll up; spread on grilled ciabatta for a crostini-type nibble - or pop into the cavity left by the stalk of a large mushroom after grilling it.

Ingredients
200g jar pitted green olives, drained
3-4 tbsp capers
2-3 anchovy fillets, drained/rinsed
1 clove garlic
handful flat-leaf parsley
1/2 lemon

Throw the first five ingredients into a food processor and blitz until you have a paste. Taste and add black pepper and as much juice of the lemon as you like.
Keep in a jar in the fridge.

Moroccan Mouthfuls

Although I can't eat pastry (wretched gluten and dairy), I am always fascinated by the nutty delicacies that are served at the end of Middle Eastern meals. I watch my fellow diner's eyes roll skyward and listen to the appreciative murmurs that seep out of their every pore and think "if only I could have that effect." Culinary speaking, you understand.

And so I tried my hand at Claudia Roden's recipe for M'Hencha or Almond 'Snake'.
These coils of delight look incredible yet are deceptively easy to make, although a little time consuming. But soooo worth the effort if the resultant 'mmmmmm' factor is to be believed. One grateful recipient refused to believe that they were homemade - result!

Almond 'Snake'
(makes approximately 15)
For the filling:
750g ground almonds
500g caster sugar
1 tbsp ground cinnamon
100-125ml orange blossom water

For the pastry:
250g sheets of filo pastry
60g unsalted butter, melted
1 egg yolk mixed with water

Preheat the oven to 170 C / gas 3.
Mix all the filling ingredients together and knead them into a paste with your hands (this is great for your skin by the way!). Take lumps of the paste and roll between your palms into 'snakes' about 2cm thick.
Put a pile of filo sheets in front of you with the longer sides facing you.
Brush the top sheet of pastry with melted butter and place the fingers of almond paste along the length about 2cm in from the edge to make one long log of paste.
Roll the filo up over the filling into a long, thin cigar and tuck the ends in to stop it all squirting out.
Lift the roll onto a work surface and push gently in from both ends as if (according to Ms Roden) playing an accordion! Then gently curve into a coil so it resembles a snake. Repeat with the rest of the pastry.
Brush all the coils with the egg yolk and water glaze, pop on a baking sheet and cook in the middle of an oven for around 30 minutes until golden.
Let the snakes cool on the baking sheet and when cold, sprinkle with icing sugar.

Very rich and perfect with coffee or desert wine. Or both.

A Fragrant February

When the weather is particularly grey and one is yearning for Spring to burst forth as opposed to teasing us with a mild day which is then chased away by one of snow, it is natural to crave food that conjures images of warm sunny days. And so I find that this month I have reached for cookery books by Claudia Roden and the Sams Clark for dishes which are fragrant with spices such as cinnamon and sumac and sweetened with dried fruits and pomegranate molasses.

As ever I have tweaked recipes to suit my own particular tastes (and those of my guests) and tried to use at least a couple of seasonal ingredients - in this case, deliciously pink Yorkshire rhubarb.

Lamb & Rhubarb Khoresh (adapted from Waitrose Food Illustrated) serves 4
650-700g cubed lamb
1 large onion, peeled and coarsely chopped
450ml hot stock (preferably lamb but vegetable would be fine)
large handful flat leaf parsley, coarsely chopped
large handful mint leaves, coarsely chopped
1 stick cinnamon
400g rhubarb, but into 4cm lengths
1 tbsp sugar

Heat a good glug of oil in a large casserole and brown the meat all over.
Remove and tip in the onion, cooking until soft and golden. Return the meat to the pan, add the stock, season and bring to the boil. Turn the heat down to a simmer and leave to gently bubble for 30 mins.
Add 3/4 of the herbs and the cinnamon and cook for another 30 minutes.
Stir in the rhubarb and cook gently without the lid for 15 minutes or until the rhubarb is tender (as opposed to a mush).
Stir in the sugar, check the seasoning and add the rest of the herbs before you serve.

Mussaka' A Menazzaleh
(aubergine with tomatoes and chickpeas) serves 5 as a side dish, 2 as a main
2 aubergines
oil
3 garlic cloves, crushed
600g tomatoes, peeled and chopped
1 stick of cinnamon
1-2 tbsp pomegranate molasses
1 400g tin chickpeas, drained and rinsed
handful of flat leaf parsley, chopped

Cut the aubergines in half lengthwise and then into thin slices. Brush with oil, salt and grill for 15 minutes, turning once half way through.
Heat some oil in a large pan, add the garlic and cook until softens. Add the tomatoes, squashing them with a spoon. Season, add the cinnamon stick and cook for 15 minutes.
Add the molasses, throw in the aubergine slices and simmer for 30 minutes. If it gets rather dry add a little passatta.
Add the chickpeas at the end and serve with the parsley sprinkled on top.

(If this is a main, serve with chunks of feta cheese crumbled over the top)

And to finish, a simple fruit salad of sliced oranges, doused with rosewater and sprinkled with sliced Mejdool dates and icing sugar.

Save Our Sticky Stuff!

England, unite! Our jampots need us. Marmalade, the sticky stuff that jells our country’s identity together, is in danger of extinction. Only we can save it.

Shockingly, a recent report from market analyst TNS, reveals that sales of marmalade have dropped by 4.4% in the past year whilst sales of honey and jam are on the increase. Apparently the sappy youfs of England can’t handle the tang of marmalade and crave the instant sugary hit of jam.

Luckily Seville oranges are currently in season so you can do your bit to save the organgey preserve. Get yourself down to the market, pick up a cartload (they are incredibly cheap right now) and immerse yourself in a citrus fug on a Sunday afternoon, as Xochitl (see link for her super blog) and I did recently.

The below is an easy recipe for simple, but delicious, basic marmalade.

Seville Orange Marmalade

(makes approximately 5lb)

1 ½ lb Seville oranges (washed and scrubbed to remove wax)
1 unwaxed lemon
3lb preserving sugar (or caster sugar)
(you will also need a large stockpot or preserving pan with handles, a square of muslin, jam pots and wax discs)

1. Cut the oranges and the lemon in half and squeeze out the juice. Put the pips and as much of the membrane as you can scrape off into the muslin square. Tie the muslin up into a ball with string.
2. Slice the peel (use a Foodaid or Magimix to save time) as coarsely or finely as you like and put into the pan with the juice and three pints of water.
3. Suspend the bag of pips in the liquid and tie to a pan handle (so you can remove it later without scalding yourself). Bring the mixture to the boil and simmer for 1 – 1½ hours until the liquid has reduced by half.
4. Warm the packets of sugar in the oven on a low temperature (this helps the sugar crystals to dissolve quicker) and the clean jam jars to sterilize them. And pop a couple of saucers into the freezer (trust me, I know what I’m doing!) and
5. Fish out the muslin bag and squeeze as much liquid as possible back into the pan (the pips contain pectin which is essential for making the marmalade set to be brutal!).
6. Stir the sugar into the pan until it has dissolved and boil hard for 15 minutes. To test to see if the marmalade has reached setting point, take a saucer out of the freezer and plop a blob of marmalade onto it. If the mixture wrinkles and holds its shape when you push your fingertip through it, then it’s ready. If not, continue to boil and try again.
7. When ready, leave the marmalade to stand for 10 minutes and then bottle into the jars, placing a wax disc on top of each jar (this prevents mould from forming on the surface).

Try to resist eating for at least a month whilst the flavours mature and develop. And in the meantime show your support for the save our marmalade campaign by voting for it as an English icon at www.icons.org.uk/nom/nominations/orange-marmelade-1-2

Mother's Ruin?

It has been an awfully long time since my last food blog, for no other reasons than I am trying to restrain the ramblings on my personal life elsewhere and that my newly acquired single-status does not lead to the most scintillating of sensory overloads. As yet.

However last night I had a rare opportunity to cook, and not just for anyone, but for someone I love. My mother.

The older I get, the more I appreciate my parents and I increasingly relish the tastes and pleasures in which we share. And for mum and I, one of these little joys has to be the fragrant and heady flavours of gin. Dubbed 'mother's ruin' for a whole host of reasons in the 18th century (on which I can bore for Britain, my specialist degree subject bizarrely encompassed such matters - a hint is the works of Hogarth), I am happy to reveal that my mother and I find that gin, rather than ruining an evening, tends to enhance it.

The situation for our happy reunion is immaterial, suffice to say we found ourselves alone, in an alien kitchen with salmon fillets, a bottle of gin, sparse store-cupboard goodies and a camera on its last legs (hence the dirth of images). Mother's ruin? More like Mother's Success.

Tipsy Salmon (for a tipsy mother/daughter combination)
olive oil
2 leeks - washed and finely sliced
1 garlic clove, finely sliced
juice of half a lemon
gin
bay leaf
flat-leaf parsley, finely chopped
two salmon fillets

Preheat the oven to 180-200 centigrade.
Put the leeks, garlic, bay leaf and parsley in a shallow oven-proof dish. Sprinkle over a good glug of olive oil, lemon juice and a sizeable glug of gin. Season and cover with tin foil. Pop into the oven for approx 20 minutes, turning at least once. When the leeks are soft, nestle the salmon fillets on top of the leeks (skin down), re-cover with foil and cook for approx 15-2o minutes depending on how well one likes one's salmon cooked. Baste at least once during cooking time to prevent the fish dying out, adding more gin/lemon juice or even a splash of apple juice if necessary.

Enjoy with steamed greens, possibly jasmine rice, but certainly with one's mother.

BBC Good Food Show??

Good Food Show? Not so one would notice.

I should have known from the difficulties I had purchasing a ticket (down to tracking down the organiser's office which promised to call me back. Twice). What a disappointment.

Years ago the Good Food Show was exactly what it's name implied. A wealth of interesting food suppliers and products, and although there were the obligatory used-car-type salesmen peddling all manner of squeezy implements and choppers, on the whole it represented good value for money at less than a tenner and an afternoon well spent.

How things change in a few years. Or perhaps it is one's standards and expectations that alter with age and experience. Whatever the reason I came away from Olympia this afternoon feeling rather saddened. Not only by what was on offer but also by my fellow show-goers.

The products proffered were predictable on the whole and collectively uninspiring. I imagine it is prohibitively expensive to participate which would explain the large brands that were represented. I was however rather taken with the following products:

Bateel - sparkling date juice
This gorgeous nectar is not cheap however it is a superb alcohol-free drink to offer guests (and oneself on school nights) and looks rather impressive in its glitzy bottle. Two bottles are now nestling expectantly in my wine racks....... www.iskbeverages.com

www.intolerablefood.com
Perhaps not the most inviting of names but this is the first range of gluten and dairy frozen ready meals that I have encountered. Sadly the freezer section of my fridge is replete with edamame, peas and ice and I feel uncomfortable considering any ready-meals due to the laziness factor, however I feel duty bound to spread the word.

Black Mountain
When I was a younger and was coming down with a cold or flu, my mother would always offer a little brandy and hot water. Uuuegh. My tastebuds simply cannot stand the assault of harsh spirits such as neat brandy and whisky, so I was startled to find myself buying a tiny bottle of Black Mountain - an apple brandy with blackcurrant which is as smooth and warming as a French Kiss (I vaguely remember what they are like!).

Socialite London
I have been rather hesitant to share this particular find. A new venture is being launched and, I hasten to add, it is NOT a dating website. However if one likes to eat out and doesn't always have friends available to dine with, then one can find a number of dinner companions on www.socialite-london.com
Yes, the promo girl hooked me in like a pro ("You're single after how long? Oh that's tough. And you like trying new restaurants in London? This is soooo for you.") But it does sound rather fun and with a month free trial it's worth a shot.

But the people there!!! Oh my word. I think I'll elucidate on my other blog, but there must be something about free food (and especially alcohol as I remember from my wine trade days) that brings out the animal in people. And we're not talking cute, fluffy kittens here. More predatory, growling lions, ready to pounce. A rather unpleasant sight and experience all told.

So, if you're contemplating popping along I feel duty bound to advise against it. Save your money, go to Borough Market or your local farmers', fill your boots (or rather your basket) with quality, fresh produce and avoid the blatant consumerism. And the unpleasant grabbing hoards.

Mung's The Word

I recently read that mung noodles are a good alternative to their wheat or rice counterparts, particularly if one is mindful of GI content. Whilst I'm not, I do find that carbs sit in my stomach like an unwelcome house guest and so when I spied a packet of these delicious, delicate noodles in my local Thai supermarket, I pounced on them with glee.

My shopping basket was soon full with lemon grass, galangal, limes, thai basil, red chillis and beansprouts. With the addition of a few chestnut mushrooms, spring onions and mange tout, a fiery but light supper was borne.

Huggermunger Stir-Fry
skein of mung bean noodles
1 clove garlic, finely sliced
1 red chilli, deseeded and finely sliced
2 spring onions, finely sliced
1 'thumb' of ginger, peeled and finely sliced
1 stem of lemongrass, outer leaves removed and firmly bashed
1 star anise flower
handful of chestnut mushrooms, wiped and sliced
handful of mange tout, sliced in half
handful of beansprouts
nam pla
tamari (or soy sauce)
sherry or rice wine

First soak the noodles in boiling water for 10 minutes.
Heat sesame or vegetable oil in a wok or frying pan and when shimmering-hot, add the garlic, chilli, ginger, lemongrass and star anise and briskly stir.
Add the onion, mushrooms, mange tout and beansprouts and tip in a good shaking of nam pla and tamari to your individual taste.
Pour in a little sherry or rice wine to add a little liquid.
Drain the noodles and add them to the pan.

Simplicity in itself, light on the stomach and good for fighting colds.

Yes, mung is the word.

FAT

Lifetimes ago, when I had a very uncomfortable relationship with food, I avoided fat with a pathological obsession.

I would watch my ex-husband eat half an avocado with horror, used God awful olive 'lite' spray with which to saute (I could never countenance the word 'fry'), skirted around nuts, counted and recorded the number of stolen crisps from my ex's packet of Hula-Hoops, removed any trace of whiteness from a piece of meat (back in the days when I ate the stuff) and convinced myself that an equation existed whereby the addition of essential oily fish to my diet equaled in gigantic thighs. Not a healthy, nor rational, way to exist.

Thankfully wisdom and a desire to be look after myself has come with age and now I relish the silky character that avocado lends to my homemade sushi handrolls, use olive oil liberally to sweat onions and celery, take enormous pleasure in my daily cracking of walnut shells to access the rich meat inside and try to ensure that if I don't get round to eating oily fish, then I at least take capsules containing their goodness.

But there is one food that still challenges me when I'm feeling a bit low. Cheese.

Being intolerant to cow's dairy I have a natural excuse to avoid the yellow stuff, but my stomach can take small amounts of goats and sheeps cheeses and yet my mind still balks at the fat content. I would never buy a block, let alone a sliver for myself and so tend to celebrate catering for others with a good-looking cheese board.

Last night was no exception. After a hearty and robust fish stew (I've blogged it before so won't bore you again although this time added butter beans), we dined on lactic acid - one cow and three goat. The wine flowed, the cow was polished off by my guests and I was left, to my dismay, with a substantial quantity of cheese which I could actually eat. Not letting myself cave in to the temptation to slide the lot into the waiting and hungry bin, I forced myself to pop it into the fridge. Where it sits, planning it's calorific assault on my arse.

Determined to dispel old behaviours, I re-introduced the cheeses to their board and ate a Sunday lunch of fromage, celery, cucumber, apple and a couple of mejdool dates. Washed down with a large glass of Australian Shiraz, a shot of coffee and accompanied by the tranquil tones of Pink Martini. And boy, it was good.

Tomme de Chevre
A texture that lies between hard and soft with an incredible depth of flavour. Reminds me of garlic for no good reason. A sumptuous luxury.

Murcia al Vino
This has a creamy consistency and a slight tannic twang (the rind is soaked in red wine) which is balanced by a gentle acidity and touch of citrus fruit.

Rosary
This is a mousse like cheese, light and airy with hints of lemon and grass. Divine with celery and would be the perfect partner to a steely Chablis or Sauvignon Blanc.

So, more fat in one meal than I would normally consume in a whole day but when coming down with a cold on a chilly Sunday, sometimes a little lard is required. And yes, I did go bananas at the gym this morning in anticipation and no, I can't promise that the remainder of the cheeses will resist the call of the bin, but at least I tried.

It's cabbage, but not as we know it......

Doing my homework for my creative writing course today sent me spiraling back to my childhood and with it, the tastes and flavours which are so deeply ingrained with those memories. Some bad - liver, broad beans, dog biscuits (don't ask, I was a curious child) but mostly good - custard, crumble topping, peas, cod, anything baked by my mother, her bucketful's of strawberry jam (literally) and, weirdly, cabbage.

Perhaps not an obvious choice for a child but there was, and still is, something about white cabbage that makes my tummy smile. I have never liked Sunday roasts, finding meat rather cumbersome and indigestible, however I used to relish the taste of cabbage softened in gravy.

Since then, trips to Vienna have rekindled my love for cabbage, this time in the shape of sauerkraut, and when I spied a perfect little baby green example in the shop today I could not resist.

Still fighting off a cold and firmly believing that the combination of garlic, chili and ginger has the power to kill all wayward germs, I concocted the following cabbage dish. I added caraway seeds as they are reputed to counter the (ahem) gassy properties of cabbage but also I love the sweet character they add to a dish.

I'm afraid that I seem to have stopped measuring ingredients when I cook for one, taking a rather haphazard approach. Happily one that works but it does mean that I can't give exact quantities. Be brave, experiment!

Combat Cabbage
1 onion, finely sliced
1 red chili, deseeded and finely chopped
thumb' of ginger, peeled and finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
sprinkling of caraway seeds
1 little baby cabbage, finely shredded
white miso soup made with paste and hot water (or use vegetable stock - I just don't have any!)
tamari (or soy sauce if you're not wheat-shy)
nam pla (fish sauce so omit if vegetarian)
sherry
frozen peas
half a can of cooked chickpeas

Fry the onion, garlic, chili and ginger in a glug of groundnut or vegetable oil until soft and sweet. Add the caraway seeds and the cabbage. Stir well.
Pour in enough miso or stock to cover, shake in a good measure of tamari or soy sauce, a drop or two of nam pla and sherry, stir and cover. Cook on a low heat for approximately 10 -15 minutes, checking the moisture levels and topping up with sherry/stock as necessary.
Add a handful of frozen peas and chickpeas (if you need the protein - else serve as a side dish to steamed white fish or pork chops), cover and cook for up to five minutes.

The white miso and caraway seeds create a sweet base for this dish which is counterbalanced by the tamari and chili. Oh yes, I have rekindled my love for cabbage. Just not in gravy this time.

Comforting Cod

I am beginning to find my groove, such as it is, for now. I won't bore you with it here (if you're really interested you can always visit my other non-foodie blog) but I am finally learning that nourishing one's self - one's emotions, self-esteem, home and ultimately, one's appetite - is a recipe for contentment and one which should be encouraged rather than one in which to find guilt.

And so, in order to guard off a threatening cold (hence the ginger, garlic and chili) and to celebrate the opportunity for a candle-lit dinner for one I concocted the following simple, but soul-warming dish.

Comforting Cod
(yes, you guessed it, serves one gorgeous blonde)
sesame oil
2 cloves garlic, finely sliced
1 red chili, deseeded and finely sliced
'thumb' of ginger, peeled and finely chopped
star anis
1 leek, washed and finely sliced
150g crimini mushrooms, wiped clean (halve or even quarter the large ones)
sherry
nam pla (fish sauce)
tamari (or soy sauce - tamari has a meatier taste and just loves fungi - but then don't we all love a chap with a sense of humour?!)
handful of baby spinach leaves
1 cod fillet

Heat a good slug of sesame oil in a large frying pan to which you have the lid. Once warmed add the garlic, chili and ginger and muddle about for a few minutes.
Add the leek, cover and sweat, check occasionally that the leeks are not sticking to the pan. Trickle sherry in as and when necessary to avoid this and to create a shallow pool of liquor. Throw in a few petals of dried star anis.
After around 10 minutes when the leeks have lost their rubbery quality and softened to a baby's breath, add the mushrooms, a good shaking of both the nam pla and tamari and pop the lid back on the pan.
After around five to ten minutes throw in a handful of spinach leaves, another glug of sherry and replace the lid.
Sit the cod fillet on top of the vegetable tangle, replace the pan lid and allow the fish to gently steam for approx. five to ten minutes (depending on thickness of fillet and how well done you like your fish to be).
Remove the fish and serve the vegetable melange on a plate and then pop the fish on top.

I am aware the portion in the photo looks enormous and quite frankly, it was rather large! However as I don't tend to eat carbs (for no other reason than my odd stomach doesn't like them and that this morning I succumbed to the hi-tech weighing machine at the gym and am apparently a bit of a light weight with a BMI of just 19), I really don't care! As I said, it's about nourishing one's soul. Lemony or otherwise.

Venison for the Vegetarian

When I first met my friend Darren he was a confirmed vegetarian. Well I say 'confirmed' although that is patently not the case. He first turned to the veggie side for love - not of green matter but of a girl. However, dating and then being married to the gorgeous Goody have turned his tastebuds again and love has returned him to am omnivorous state.

I now take great amusement in cooking meat for him and so used D and G's company as an opportunity to cook a venison casserole.

Venison is the only red meat that I eat - not only is it the healthiest (low in cholesterol and fat) but it is the only meat not to race through my troubled stomach, leaving a trail of intestinal devastation in its wake. Casseroling meat is such a gorgeous method to cook it - the flavours have an opportunity to melt and mingle and the fibres of the meat have time to tenderise into silky morsels. Casseroles are even better when reheated and so they are the perfect dish when entertaining - all the hard work has already been taken care of leaving you to enjoy your friends and the wine.

Venison and Pink Peppercorn Casserole
400g venison steak, cubed
cornflour
olive oil
2 banana shallots, peeled and finely sliced
2 cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped
200g crimini mushrooms, wiped clean
red wine
tomato ketchup
dried oregano
pink peppercorns
chunk of dark chocolate

Preheat the oven to 150 degrees centigrade.
First remove any traces of fat or sinew from the venison. Put a few spoons of cornflour in a food bag, toss in the meat and shake it about to evenly cover the meat.
Heat a good slug of oil in a casserole and then brown the meat. Remove when evenly coloured (don't skimp on this bit - it is so important to brown meat well to seal in the flavour).
Add a little more oil then tip in the onion and garlic. Fry until soft.
Throw in the mushrooms, chopping larger ones in half and also chuck the meat back into the dish.
Pour in enough red wine to cover the meat, add a good sized squeeze of ketchup (I know it sounds odd but it really adds to the flavour), a sprinkling of dried oregano (for no other reason than it's all I had to hand but it works), and a large sprinkling of pink peppercorns - roughly two or three tablespoons.
Bring to the boil, stirring well, season with a touch of salt and a good grinding of black pepper. Pop the lid on the pot and then put it in the oven for 1 1/4 hours if you are going to reheat the dish, else cook for 11/2 - 13/4 hours.

And the chocolate? At the end of cooking, break in the chocolate and stir it until it melts. It adds to the depth of the flavour and shouldn't all good meals end with chocolate?

(sorry - we gobbled it up before I remembered to take a picture!)

The Perfect Plum

How fortunate I am to be able to appreciate the beauty of the simple things in life. The crust of a perfectly cooked fruit pie. The glean of expertly tempered chocolate. The gentle downy skin of a ripe peach. And the utter joy to be found in a bowl of delicious English plums with their delicate, dusty bloom. When pleasure in food is this simple, why complicate it?

Beauty surrounds us in a myriad of forms every day if only we can open our eyes and our senses to embrace it. And so a bowl of honeyed plums is a sumptuous yet simple start to one’s day, savoured whilst bathed in the warm light of an early Autumnal Sunday which comes streaming through the window and awakens my senses.

Moules Lillois

Yesterday I returned from a long-weekend in Lille, the capital of Flanders and home to one of my most wonderful friends and his loving partner. We shared recipes, discussed politics, food and love and bathed in the warm glow of deep friendship. A truly lovely weekend and one that has helped to restore my spirit. And my passion for creating recipes.

Peter has not eaten meat for nearly twenty years and is a brilliant cook of all dishes pescatarian. He concentrates on a one or two key quality ingredients at each meal and creates simple but beautifully orchestrated food.

I have never cooked mussels, being rather nervous of their barnacles and fearful of poisoning myself or others if the little blighters choose not to open. Peter however is fearless and far more sensible than me and so he executed a vibrantly freshly flavoured version of moules marinieres which we christened Moules Lillois.

Moules Lillois (serves three to four)
2kg fresh mussels
2 shallots, peeled and finely chopped
3 or 4 stems of celery (depending on their thickness), diced
2 cloves of garlic, peeled and finely chopped
1 carrot, peeled and finely diced
3 or 4 sprigs of thyme
200ml white wine
200ml water
Large sprig of parsley, chopped

Wash the mussels, scrape off any lingering barnacles and discard those that are open or cracked.
Fry the shallots, celery and garlic in olive oil until they soften. Add the carrot and fry for a few more minutes. Add the thyme, wine and water and raise the heat so that the liquid simmers. Add a good grinding of black pepper. Throw in the mussels and cook for four to five minutes until their shells have opened and the flesh is a tender orange in colour.
Remove from the heat and serve into large bowls with the liquor, removing any shells that failed to open. Sprinkle with the parsley and serve.

Uncomplicated and truly delicious. There is a lot to be said to such an approach to food.

For more about Peter and his move to France, visit Le Log Lillois at http://newmanlegros.blogspot.com

World Blog by Mail

I participated in a worldwide Blog By Post organised by The Happy Sorceress and eagerly awaited my parcel whilst pulling my own together to send to the States.

It is a curious concept to send a food parcel to someone whom one has never met or even been in touch with. It is akin to being given a pen pal whilst at school and writing that very first introductory letter. I visited the blog of my designated recipient to gain a flavour for her tastes and life and decided to send a thoroughly traditional British packet which I hope Nicole will enjoy, despite being on a nutrisystem diet (of which I am completely ignorant). And so my little pack of England contained:

Tiptree Little Scarlet conserve, pack of Williamson earl grey tea, tube of Coleman’s mustard, bar of organic Rococo chocolate flavoured with cardamom, disc of Gentleman’s Relish (I know that no-one ever eats this curious paste but it wouldn’t be a true traditional parcel if I had omitted this essential item), pack of rhubarb and custard boiled sweets for that taste of an English childhood and a pack of sugar flowers for decorating cakes as Nicole loves to bake.

And what did I receive? Chris Church from http://experimentationoftaste.blogspot.com/ had thoughtfully packaged up the following:

Wheat, gluten and dairy free bread and brownie mixes
Buckwheat flour
Toasted carob powder
3 organic fruit and nut bars
Sheets of toasted nori
Sindhi biryani masala mix
Fenugreek
Cardamom pods
Sumak
Garam masala
Za’atar

I can’t wait to get baking with the mixes and to see how American allergy-free compare to ones available in the UK. I have already nibbled the bars and they are truly scrumptious – great for those mornings when you have already tried on three pairs of shoes, have yet to chose the matching outfit and ‘oh my god’ you only have five minutes to run for the train to work. The rate with which they disappear from my cupboard will indicate just how indecisive I am (and how many times I am late!).

Chris’s parents hail from Saudi Arabia, hence the variety of spices. The only one that is completely new to me is za’atar which Chris informs me is a lovely accompaniment to bread and olive – even more reason to try out the new bread mixture.
Sumak is a herb that is often used in Lebanese cuisine when lemons aren’t available and so I will be sprinkling that on a variation of the vegetable moussaka I made for girlfriends this week (marvellous, tonight’s dinner is taken care of).
I have to confess that I have already consumed the nori – one of my absolute favourite foods – which provided me with a couple of lunches of handrolls (minus the rice) in which it encased strips of cucumber, avocado and slices of marinated tofu.

Thank you Chris and thank you to the Happy Sorceress for organising the blogging event. What a fantastic way to travel the world – with one’s tastebuds. Lord knows that may be the only way I’m to achieve it until I have more work confirmed…………

A Feast of Friendships

I wanted to not only anoint my new flat with a home warming party, but also to thank those girlfriends without whom I would not have survived the last few months of pain and hurt in one piece. A true feast of friendship.

Five women, all of whom are battling with their own problems and yet have found the time and the space in their hearts to cherish me at the time when I have most needed it. The least I could do was to cook a meal for them.

All of us are interested in food and like to taste different cuisines and I realised that I have eaten in Lebanese restaurants with each and every one and so I let the Lebanon flavour the dishes. As ever I tweaked recipes that I have digested to make them my own and conjured up the following:

Nigella Lawson's Aubergine Moussaka (veggie option)
Moroccan-ish Chicken
Green salad
Saffronjeweledd rice (white basmati cooked with saffron threads and dried cranberries, decorated with toasted flaked almonds and flat-leaf parsley)
Chocolate crusted lemon and cardamom tart

I promised to post the recipes for the first and the last of the above dishes and will include the chicken for good measure, purely because it is such a simple main course to create. The tart is rather time consuming but from the licking of lips and pleas for leftovers to take home for husbands/fiancees, I surmised that it have been worth the effort.

Aubergine Moussaka (serves four as a main course, six as a side dish)

500g aubergine (two decent sized vegetables), cut into 11/2 cm cubes
1 large onion, peeled and thinly sliced
10 small cloves garlic, peeled and thickly slivered
1 can chickpeas, drained and rinsed
1 ½ tbsp pomegranate molasses
500g tomatoes, peeled, seeded and quartered (do this before you embark on the rest of the recipe)
1 ½ tsp salt
½ tsp cinnamon or one stick
½ tsp ground allspice
200ml water
Pack of feta
Mint leaves

In a large pan, heat a good amount of oil and fry half of the aubergine until golden brown. Remove to a dish and repeat with the remainder aubergine.
Splash in some more oil and add the onion and garlic and fry until soft and pale.
Add the chickpeas, the molasses and return the aubergine to the pan. Add the tomatoes, sprinkle with the spices and add the water. Bring to the boil, cover and reduce to a simmer for around an hour.
Serve warm or cold, strewn with torn mint leaves and a crumbled pack of feta.

Moroccan-ish Chicken
(serves 4)
6 garlic cloves, peeled and crushed
1tsp each salt and ground black pepper
1tsp ground ginger
½ tsp ground cumin
½ tsp paprika
1kg chicken thigh fillets (I remove as much fat as possible)
150ml freshly squeezed orange juice
Pared rind of one orange
150g organic dried apricots (organic ones are darker in colour as they aren't dried with sulphur dioxide)
¼ tsp saffron shreads
150ml sherry or white wine (whatever you have to hand)
3tbsp sherry vinegar
2tbsp oil
1 onion, peeled and finely sliced
3tbsp plain flour (I make a cornflour paste, being unable to eat wheat)
300ml chicken stock or bouillon
Two or three preserved lemons
Flat leaf parsley

Put the first five ingredients in a large bowl and mix well. Add the chicken, orange juice and rind and stir to ensure that the chicken is well covered. Chill for at least four hours or overnight.
Put the apricots, saffron, sherry or wine and vinegar in a bowl. Cover and leave to marinate at room for temperature for the same length of time as the chicken.
Heat the oil in a large casserole. Transfer the chicken (reserve the marinade) and brown over a high heat then remove. Add the onion and cook until soft (around five mins).
Add the flour, stir well and cook for one minute (or make a cornflour paste and add). Add the marinade, stock, the apricots with their soaking liquid and the preserved lemons. Stir and bring to the boil. Return the chicken to the pan and simmer.
Cover and either cook on the hob for around 30 minutes or in the oven at 180C for around 40 minutes.
Serve with chopped flat-leaf parsley.

Chocolate Crusted Lemon and Cardamom Tart
(serves approximately eight)
Pastry
175g plain flour
25g cocoa powder
Pinch of salt
25g icing sugar
125g unsalted butter, chilled and cubed
1 large egg yolk
2tbsp cold water

Filling
75g dark chocolate (the higher cocoa content the better), grated
3 unwaxed lemons
150g caster sugar
4 large eggs
150ml double cream (or a 142ml pot - for some reason it is not possible to buy 150ml)
Six cardamom pods, crushed to release the black seeds. Throw away the pods.
Icing sugar to serve

To make the pastry put the first five ingredients into a food processor and pulse until the mix resembles fine breadcrumbs. Don't over process - this is very short pastry!
Mix the egg with the water and add to the mixture to make a soft dough. Gather the pastry into a ball, flatten into a disc and wrap in clingfilm. Chill in the fridge for at least an hour.
Roll out the pastry (between two sheets of greaseproof paper is best) and line a 23cm (9 inch) tart tine with a removable base. Prick the pastry with a fork in several places and chill for at least two hours.
Preheat the oven to 200C/gas 6.
Line the pastry case with foil and baking beans, put on a baking sheet and bake blind for 15 mins. Remove the foil and beans and return to the oven for five minutes. Remove from the oven and sprinkle the grated chocolate over the base. Leave to cool. Reduce the oven temperature to 170C/gas 3.

To make the filling, finely grate the zest of the lemons into a bowl. Squeeze the juice from the lemons and add to the bowl with the sugar. Whisk until the sugar has dissolved then whisk in the eggs, cream and the cardamom pods until the mixture is smooth.
Pour the mixture into the cooled pastry case and carefully return to the middle of the oven. Bake for 30-35mins until just set. Remove from the oven and leave to cool completely on a wire rack before removing from the tin.
Dust with icing sugar and serve with a few raspberries for a contrast of flavours and colours.

Ginger Nuggets

My very good friend Goody recently let slip that she sometimes like to nibble ginger nuts whilst chilling out in front of the TV of an evening. A gorgeously domestic and indulgent picture but one with a few additives and other nasties. As a thank you for all her love and support, I resolved to knock her up a batch of my ginger nuggets and to christen my oven in the process.

This recipe is one that I’ve tweaked and reworked over the years until I think I’ve got these sparkly little gems just right. They are unbelievably easy to make and have been known to cure my eldest sister’s morning sickness.

Ginger Nuggets (makes approximately 16)
4oz plain flour
1 level tsp bicarbonate of soda
1- 2tsp ground ginger (according to personal taste)
2oz butter
2oz golden caster sugar
2oz golden syrup
1 knob of stem ginger in syrup, chopped finely
2-3 tbsp golden caster sugar - extra

Sift the flour, bicarb of soda and ginger into a mixing bowl.
Weigh the butter, sugar and syrup directly into a little saucepan – a good trick when measuring syrup is to run the spoon under a hot tap first and then the syrup glides off with ease.
Warm the saucepan over a gentle heat until the butter has melted and the mixture is runny without getting too hot. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry, add the chopped stem ginger and mix well to form a soft dough. Wrap in clingfilm in a long sausage shape and chill in the fridge for at least one hour.
Preheat the oven to 180C/gas 4. Unwrap the dough and slice into 16 pieces.
Put the extra sugar into a plastic food bag and toss each slice so that they are well coated in sugar. Arrange them on a baking sheet, leaving plenty of room for spreading. Flatten them a little with a palette knife.
Bake in the middle of your oven for 10 minutes, leave the biscuits on the tray for one minute and then transfer to a wire cooling rack.

Whilst they may not be the prettiest of biscuits, I'm assured that the taste more than compensates for their aesthetically challenging appearance!

Moroccan Mystique

It has been an age since my last post. I've been adapting to my new single life, me new flat and I have to admit, I have yet to use my new oven. I'm still not particularly enamored by the thought of cooking anything exciting for one, and so I am satisfying my food porn needs by helping out at the cookery school.

Saturday evening found me at La Cucina Caldesi, helping out a Moroccan themed cookery course for the tamest hen party I have ever encountered, with possibly the largest appetites I have ever witnessed amongst a group of women. How very refreshing.

The chef for the evening hailed from Essaouria(where I had to admit I suffered the worst food poisoning of my life so far) and having been taught to cook by his mother, he holds the secrets of the honeyed flavours, rich spices and silky flavours that make Moroccan food so wonderfully appealing. One of the most memorable flavours I have ever encountered was a fresh date, warmed by the shimmery heat of the sun and picked fresh from a tree on the banks of an oasis in the Moroccan desert whilst stroking the rough hair of a donkey.

On Saturday I learnt a couple of very useful lessons. The first - how to make preserved lemons in a hurry. In theory these citrus ingredients should take a minimum of three weeks to develop their flavours, however if you have run out or cannot find them in a local shop, this is the fast-track recipe:

Preserved Lemons in a Dash
Two lemons
Salt
Water
Oil

Make four cuts into each lemon as if you were going to quarter them but without cutting right through the flesh so that the fruits remain intact.
Bring a pot of water to the boil and add a good handful of salt. Add the lemons and boil for approximately 30 minutes or until soft but not falling apart.
Remove from the heat, sprinkle with more salt and drizzle with a good glugging of olive oil. Leave to infuse for an hour.

The hen party sipped their champagne, rolled up their sleeves and started to dip their fingertips into the ingredients. Between them and with our direction they made the following sumptuous feast:

Baked aubergines with paprika and preserved lemon dressing
Kefta balls with a hot tomato sauce
Lamb tajine with prunes
Baklava

The long list of ingredients for the meat dishes belie how easy they are to prepare. Never have I smelt such a jumble of spices to tickle one's nose in one room, the air of which was heavy with the fragrant fug. Try these delicious nuggets and see if you agree.

Kefta Balls (serves 4) - Ghalid Assyb's recipes
500g minced beef
2 crushed garlic cloves
1 onion, grated
1 red chili, finelychoppedd
1 tbsp turmeric
2 tbsp sweet paprika
1 tbsp ground black pepper
1 tbsp ground coriander
1 tbsp ground cumin
1/2 bunch of flat-leafed parsley, finely chopped
juice of half a lemon

It couldn't be easier. Tip all the ingredients into a bowl and use your hands to mix everything together until well combined. Roll the meat into equal sized balls (roughly the size of a walnut). Fry in a pan for a matter of minutes, ensuring that they don't overcook.

Healthy, fast and delicious food which couldn't be simpler to make.

And the second lesson I learnt that night? I'm afraid that only readers of my other blog are privy to that little revelation............