Plum and Ginger Cake (for plum chums)

Words are such funny things.  Just one word can contain such a myriad of meanings depending on its usage, context, user etc.  Take the word 'plum'.  To some the obvious link will be made with the gorgeous autumnal fruit with a misty bloom that dissipates with the lightest of strokes.  Others will immediately think of something agreeable, pleasant, undemanding or even comfy (according to my reliable online Thesaurus).

So when searching for a fitting end to two meals with two seperate but equally 'plum' and dear friends, and, given the plethora of cheap Victorias in the local shop, the obvious solution was a plum cake.

One quick skate through my burgeoning library of cookery bakes and a hurried stock-take of the cupboards later, I arrived at the following adaptation of Nigel Slater's 'wonderfully moist, fresh plum cake', using what I had to hand.  And, I confess, my irritating habit of tweaking every recipe I try.

Plum and Ginger Cake
150g unsalted butter, softened
75g unrefined caster sugar
75g demerera sugar
3 large eggs, beaten
75g plain flour
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1tsp ground ginger
100g ground almonds
50g chopped nuts (I used almonds)
4 nuggets of stem ginger, chopped
12-16 plums (depending on size)

1. Preheat the oven to 180C/gas 4.  Line the base of a 20cm square cake tin with baking parchment and grease the sides with butter.
2. Cream the butter and sugar until pale and fluffy.
3. Add the eggs slowly, adding a spoon or two of flour with each addition to avoid curdling.
4. Mix to combine then stir in remainder flour, baking powder and ground ginger.
5. Stir in the ground almonds, chopped nuts and the stem ginger.  Stir well but with a light hand.
6. Spoon the cake mixture into the cake tin and level the top.
7. Stone and quarter the plums.  Scatter as evenly as possible over the top of the cake mixture.
8. Pop the cake tin into the centre of the oven and cook for approximately 45 minutes or until a skewer emerges cleanly when inserted.
9. Leave to cool in the tin for 15 minutes then remove.

I divided the results into two pieces.  The first was taken as an after-dinner offering to the wonderfully accomplished cook (and reluctant blogger Xochitl) last night.  The remainder is to be post-lunch or afternoon tea treat for my darling friends Peter and Max in only a matter of hours.
Plum treats for plum friends.

Warming Leek and Parsnip Soup

When element of one's life seems to be in turmoil and the weather is doing it's best to bring one down, there is something deeply comforting about a large bowl of soothing soup.  To be enveloped by the delicious, warming steam from a saucepan of root vegetables bubbling in mildly spiced liquid.  A much needed soothing of one's jangled senses.  The day can only get better.

Warming Leek and Parsnip Soup (makes two-three servings)
1 onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, chopped
2 leeks, rinsed and sliced
2 parsnips, peeled (core removed if woody) and chopped
1 thumb sized piece of root ginger, peeled and chopped
1 tsp dried chilli flakes
1 tsp curry powder
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp ground coriander
slug dry sherry (optional)
freshly grated nutmeg (optional)
freshly ground black pepper and sea salt

1. Warm a good slug of olive oil in a large saucepan and add the onion, garlic and leek.
2. Once the vegetables have softened, add the parsnips and ginger and stir well.
3. Add enough boiling water (you could use stock if you prefer) to cover the veggies.  Add the chilli, curry powder, cumin and coriander.  Stir well and bring to the boil, covering the pan.
4. Reduce the heat and simmer, covered, for approximately 15 minutes or until the parsnips are soft.
5. Liquidise the ingredients either with a hand-held blender or in a liquidiser adding more water/stock as necessary.
6. Add a slug of sherry (I don't know why but it accentuates the flavours), season to taste and serve with a grating of fresh nutmeg.

You could also add a swirl of cream if you're minded to or a spoon of decent mango chutney (omitting the nutmeg if you're tempted by the latter.  I know it sounds odd but trust me, it works!).

Sit yourself down with your favourite cookbook for reading material and watch the rain lash against your window whilst you bask in the warmth of your soup.

Wilkinson Family Christmas Cake 2009

The last Sunday before Advent is traditionally known as 'Stir Up Sunday' whereby families return from church to stir sumptuous mixtures for Christmas puddings and cakes and make a wish for the New Year.  I'm not sure what making wishes has to do with organised religion, however, who am I to argue with hundreds of years of tradition.  And so this weekend sees me soaking dried fruits in brandy and grating nutmeg in readiness to bake the Wilkinson family Christmas cake.

As with the family fruit cake, the original recipe was I believe from Saint Delia, tweaked by my mother and has subsequently been jiggled with by yours truly.  Ensure that you have an afternoon or evening spare to stay at home as it's quite a lengthy process.  But hopefully well worth it.  Here is the recipe for this year's;

Wilkinson Family Christmas Cake

1lb 14oz mixed dried fruit (I used a mixture that included candied peel)

2oz glace cherries

100ml brandy

8oz plain flour

1/2tsp salt

1/2tsp freshly grated nutmeg

1/2tsp ground mixed spice

8oz unsalted butter, at room temperature

8oz soft brown/muscavado sugar

4 medium eggs

2oz blanched, lightly toasted almonds, roughly chopped

3tbsp thick cut marmalade

grated zest 1 unwaxed lemon

pared zest 1 unwaxed orange

8inch round cake tin, double lined and greased with a double layer of baking parchment around the outside of the tin, tied with string (see picture)

1. The night before you are going to bake, weigh out the dried fruit into a non metallic bowl, stir in the brandy, cover with a clean cloth and leave for 12 hours.
2. Preheat oven to 140C/gas mark 1.
3. Sift the flour, salt and spices.
4. Cream the butter and sugar until it is fluffy.
5. Beat the eggs in a separate bowl and add to the creamed butter at tablespoon at a time, stirring in a spoon of flour at the same time to avoid the mixture curdling.
6. Fold in the remainder flour then fold in the fruit, peel, chopped nuts, marmalade and fruit zests.
7. Spoon into the prepared cake tin and cover the top of the cake with a piece of greaseproof paper, leaving a hole the size of a 50 pence (this prevents the cake from burning).
8. Bake on the lowest shelf in the oven for a minimum of 4.5 hours.  It can take up to 45 minutes longer depending on your oven, dried fruit used etc so rely on the good old skewer test (insert a skewer - if it is clean upon removal, the cake is ready). Whatever happens, don't open the oven door for a peak until at least four hours are up!
9. Leave the cake to cool in the tin.  Remove the top paper, make a few small holes in the top of the cake with a skewer and drizzle in a little brandy.
10. When cool, wrap the cake in clean baking parchment, then foil and keep in an airtight tin.  'Feed' the cake with a spoon or three of brandy every few days.  The cake will keep for up to two months like this.

I have not posted a picture of the finished article as I'm aware that it will look remarkably similar to my previous post.  When it is suitably adorned with marzipan and icing in December (for the Wilkinson early Christmas) I'll pop an image up then.

Happy Christmas baking!

Failproof Family Fruitcake

I am somewhat appalled to see that I have allowed such a huge amount of time to lapse since my last post. It's not that I haven't baked, stirred, nibbled and sipped. More that I haven't taken as much pleasure in cooking, rarely bother to create anything exciting for myself and, I confess, my head space has been filled with coping with the changes that life tends to throw at one.

Today however something stirred within me. It is rather complicated and involves the acceptance of numerous changes and the excitement, rather than terror, that they have brought. More specifically though, I awoke early this morning to a howling gale and torrential rain and craved nothing more than to be enveloped in the comforting fug that is

created by the baking of a spiced fruit cake to be shared with family. A warming glow to dispel the chill of Autumn and wonderful aromas of nutmeg and ginger to counter those of damp leaves. And the knowledge that a cake still warm from the oven will be gratefully received by my sister and her family.

This is an inexcusably simple recipe for which I make no apology. Sometimes the simplest things in life really are the best, something I increasingly realise the older I get. In its original version I believe this cake hailed from Delia Smith however it has subsequently been tweaked by my mother and then by me. It has become the default Wilkinson fruit cake of choice and on a wet November day, the very tonic for every ill.

Wilkinson Fruit Cake (and no, that isn't my new nickname!).

10oz mixed dried fruit

2oz glace cherries

4oz muscavado or soft brown sugar

4oz unsalted butter, cut into cubes

1/4pt water

juice and zest 1 orange

1 medium egg

8oz self-raising flour*

1/4tsp each of ground nutmeg, cinnamon, ginger and mixed spice

1. Preheat oven to 150C/gas mark 2.5. Grease a 7" round cake tin.

2. Place fruit, cherries, sugar, butter, water, juice and zest in a saucepan and simmer slowly for 20 minutes.

3. Allow to cool then add the beaten egg. Stir in the flour and spices.

4. Turn into the cake tin and smooth the surface.

5. Bake in the middle of the oven for approximately 1.5 hours or until an inserted skewer comes out clean.

*if you only have plain flour, you can convert it into self-raising by adding 2-3 teaspoons of baking powder for every 250g/9oz plain flour used.

Balls! Spicy Fish Ones

Think balls in London in July and most people tend to think of Wimbledon.  I however think of these delicious little morsels which I made for supper with one of my most beloved friends who loves all things fishy. http://newmanlegros.blogspot.com

The recipe is adapted from the super 'Steam Cuisine' by Marina Filippelli.  It is uber healthy thanks to the method of cooking and is naturally gluten and dairy free.

Spicy Fish Balls serves 2 (with leftovers)

1 red chilli, seeded

1 garlic clove

nub of fresh ginger, peeled

handful of fresh coriander

1tsp cornflour

1/4tsp salt

1/4tsp caster sugar

300g white fish fillets, skinned

1/2tbsp tamari (or soy) sauce

1/2tsp sesame oil

1/2 medium egg

Put chilli, garlic, ginger and coriander in a food processor.  Add cornflour, salt and sugar and whizz until finely chopped.

Feel the fish and remove any bones.  Add to the processor with the tamari sauce, sesame oil and egg and whizz again until well blended.

Using wet hands, shape into 10 or so balls the size of large walnuts.

Cover with cling film and leave in the fridge for 30 minutes or over night.

Bring the water in your steamer to the boil.

Line the steamer with baking parchment and pop the fish balls inside.  Steam for 4-5 minutes until they feel firm.

I served with jasmine rice, lime wedges and a cucumber, carrot and chilli salad.

Ballsy!

Fuggy Fig & Ginger Cakes

It startles me to notice that my last few posts have been for sweet things and ones which I can consume without being ill.  Indeed, ones for which I veritably relish licking the mixing bowl clean. And none more than these fig and ginger bites of delight.  Clearly my days of rigorous self control are over (and combined with giving up smoking there's a risk of me turning into a figgy pudding), but these delicious babies, adapted from the Sunday Times, are so worth throwing out all the rule books for.  They create a delicious fug in one's kitchen and a deeply satisfying 'aha' deep in the throat when one's teeth sink into their silky depths.

Fuggy Fig & Ginger Cakes (gluten & dairy free)

125 ground almonds

125g dark brown, soft sugar

1/2tsp baking powder (gluten free if required)

1/2 - 1tsp ground cinnamon

125g dried figs

2 balls stem ginger

juice and zest 1 orange

orange blossom water

3 eggs

Preheat oven to 190C/375F/gas 5.  Put 12 paper cupcake cases in a bun tin.

Mix almonds, sugar, baking powder and cinnamon until well combined.

Remove any stalks from the figs and whizz in a food mixer with the ginger, orange juice, zest and a good splash of orange blossom water until you have a paste.

Combine the fig mixture with the almond mix.  Beat in the eggs one at a time until you have a smooth batter.

Divide between the cupcake cases then bake in the oven for 25 minutes, turning the tray half way through.

When cooked, remove from the tray and cool on a wire wrack.

Delicious for breakfast with a steaming, strong espresso.

A Berry Pleasant Brunch

What does one conjure up for a bevvy of girls of varying ages for a late breakfast? Muffins of course! And for one particular big girl, a gluten-free berry special treat.....

Blueberry Muffins (12)

Dry Ingredients:

5oz caster sugar

9oz self-raising flour

1 tsp bicarbonate of soda

grated zest of a lemon

Wet Ingredients:

3oz unsalted butter, melted and cooled

2 large eggs, beaten

7fl oz milk (200ml)

1tsp lemon essence

150g blueberries

Heat oven to 180C fan/200C/Gas 6. Line a 12 hole muffin tin with paper cases (the cuter the better).

Combine dry ingredients in a bowl.

Mix the wet ingredients in a jug, pour into the dry and stir until just combined. Don't over mix else the muffins will be tough.

Gently fold in the blueberries.

Spoon the mixture into the cases and bake for 15-20 minutes until golden and firm. Cool on a rack.

Gluten Free Raspberry & Pink Pepper Muffins (also suitable for lactose intolerant) (makes 6)

90g rice flour

40g ground almonds

1tsp xanthum gum

1tsp gluten free baking powder

25g soya margarine

40g caster sugar

grated zest 1/2 lemon

1 egg

125ml milk (goats/rice/soya)

1tsp lemon essence

125g raspberries

1tbsp pink peppercorns

Preheat oven to 180C fan/200C/ Gas 6.

Sift flour, almonds, gum and baking powder into bowl and mix well (this is very important with gluten free flours). Add sugar and stir in lemon zest.

Melt margarine in a pan and leave to cool.

Whisk together egg, milk, lemon essence and cooled butter and pour into dry ingredients. Stir to combine. Fold in raspberries and pink peppercorns (I know it sounds weird, but trust me, it works!).

Spoon into muffin cases. Bake in oven for 20-25 minutes until golden and cooked through/

So, the little girls were replete, the bigger girls were happy and the token male looked content. A berry acceptable outcome.

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.