recipe and cooking video: February 2012

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Belgian Endive, Radicchio, and Blood Orange Salad

A simple, fresh tossed salad with Belgian endive, radicchio, and blood oranges dressed with avocado oil and Balsamic cream. Gorgonzola can be added to the salad to balance bitter radicchio and give contrast to the sweetness of blood oranges.

1 head Belgian endive
1/2 head Radicchio
2 Blood oranges or valencia
Butter lettuce (optional)
50 g Gorgonzola (optional)
1 small handful Parsley leaves
Balsamic cream
Avocado oil
Salt and pepper to taste

Cut the Belgian endives into bite-size pieces, or cut lengthwise into 8 wedges, discarding the hard inner core. Tear the radicchio, butter lettuce if used, into bite-size pieces too. Cut all peel and white pith from oranges. Cut between membranes of oranges to release the segments into a bowl.
Toss all the prepared vegetables with diced Gorgonzola, if used, in a large serving dish. Arrange orange segments over. Garnish with the chopped parsley leaves. Drizzle the salad with balsamic cream and avocado oil. Season to taste with sea salt and pepper.

Monday, February 27, 2012

Courgette polpette

My sisters and I grew up on a diet of fish fingers, beans, sausages, spaghetti bolognese, toast, scrambled egg, chips and boil in the bag cod with rice. My mother occasionally made a concession to our general education, by giving us Alphabites, with which we would construct rude words on our plates. We never had to eat vegetables or salad or anything we didn't want to, although it was always available.

Eventually we started eating that stuff of our own accord ,when we reached an age when we thought eating vegetables might make us thin and get rid of our spots. (Misguided of course. In order to be thin it doesn't matter what you eat, as long as you eat almost none of it, and in order to get rid of your spots you need some sort of pharmaceutical assistance.)

So I do not labour under a thing where I think Kitty ought to be eating a lot of fruit and vegetables. Do you even really NEED fruit and vegetables up until the age of about 12? I thought all babies and toddlers and small children need is carbohydrate and a bit of protein. That's all they want anyway. That and the food group known as CAKE.

Anyway it's a good thing I am very relaxed about all this, because Kitty doesn't want to eat any of that vegetable shit, thanks very much. She used to make a good fist of eating broccoli but now doesn't care for it much. From 8 months old onwards she has survived on about seven different kinds of spoonable stew that we make and freeze, mostly bean and animal fat-based.

And she has never, ever been interested in fruit. I must have placed a hundred different pieces of banana, apple, grape and clementine segment on her tray table only for her to discard them with various different disgusted faces. She did once put a piece of banana in her mouth, while mesmerised by one of her cousins - but I think she thought it was cheese.

Now she has reached a stage where she won't eat anything she hasn't eaten before. She will put it in her mouth but then hook it out with her forefinger with the word "Mmlair". Or simply open her little beak and let the food roll out.

The fact that you cannot bribe, cajole or otherwise force a pre-verbal toddler to eat something it doesn't want to is both frightening and liberating. She doesn't want it. There's nothing I can do except try again another time.

But even though I privately think that she can eat whatever the hell she wants, I must maintain a pretence in front of my husband and other middle-class people that I think she needs to eat vegetables.

So I purchased the River Cottage Babies and Toddlers Cookbook and set about making what I thought looked like a very tasty fingerfood, called Courgette Polpette.

They are really, really yummy and easy and I heartily recommend them as a delicious canape for your next soiree. Kitty hated them, obviously. But, thankfully, I don't give a fuck.

Courgette polpette

500g courgettes, finely diced
Grated zest of 1/2 a lemon
1 beaten egg
2 tbsp grated parmesan or pecorino
1/2 ball mozarella
50g breadcrumbs
1 tbsp chopped parsely
1 garlic clove, finely sliced or grated
salt and pepper

1 Heat some oil in a frying pan and fry the courgette over a medium flame for 10 minutes (time it) until they have taken a bit of colour and have collapsed just slightly

2 Allow to cool for as long as you can be bothered and then combine with all the other ingredients. The mixture will be quite wet and sticky

3 Form walnut-sized blobs and place on a greased baking sheet. Bake for about 15 minutes and serve ~~to your baby~~ with prosecco.

Saturday, February 25, 2012

Green Peas Spelt Cookies

These crunchy, melt-in-mouth green pea cookies, mainly prepared with spelt flour, ground green peas, peanut oil, and icing sugar, are commonly baked for the Spring Festival celebration, but they are an outright winner any time of year.

Green Peas Spelt Cookies

adapted from No-Frills Recipes

330 g Spelt pastry flour
3/4 tsp Salt
1 tbsp Baking powder
260 g Shelled green peas, finely ground
150 g Powdered sugar
200 ml Peanut or corn oil
1 Egg yolk
1/2 tsp Water
1 tbsp Sesame seeds

Sift the spelt pastry flour, salt, baking powder, finely ground shelled green peas, and powdered sugar into a large bowl. Set aside.
Slowly pour in oil and mix until the mixture forms a soft and pliable dough. Cover with a plastic wrap and allow it to rest for 30 minutes.
Preheat the oven to 180C/350F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper. Roll the dough into inch balls and arrange them on the prepared baking sheets.
Stir the egg yolk and water in a small bowl. Brush the top of each cookie with egg glaze and sprinkle some sesame seeds over. Bake for 15 minutes until the tops are golden brown.

Friday, February 24, 2012

Banana bread for Dory

I often, as you might guess, struggle to feel positive about stuff. Any small knock can send me spiralling into an unwashed, disconsolate, uninspired, make-up free bundle of nerves. In recent times, Kitty being ill has been a sure-fire way of me plummeting into despair. A tiny cough, a bout of teething, a sticky eye and I'm moping round the house with eye bags and dirty hair, snapping at my husband and refusing to do any washing up or laundry.

But recently, I've been fighting back. Kitty's been ill for about a week now. Started with a hacking cough, graduated to full-on fever, dull eyes, sporadic weeping (mainly at 3am) etc. It's been pretty tough. Our new plan of action is to have dinner eaten by 8pm and be in bed asleep by 9pm so that when 2/3am comes around and with it an hour or so of analgesic administration, cooing and soothing, we are prepared for it and not utterly fucked by 7am the next morning because we stayed up until 11pm watching Borgen.

My other plan of action is to get up the next morning, have a shower, wash my hair, put on fresh clothes and put my old ones in the wash. I make an effort to keep the house tidy, I try to make dinner every night, rather than barking "Let's just get a takeaway" at my husband.

It helps, it works. This illness, although with its persistent blubbery hacking cough, feverishness, sleeplessness and general horror, has been the longest and worst illness Kitty has had to date, hasn't sent me quite into the depths of despair that it would have done 6 months ago.

And so when the sun came out yesterday and I had a rush of blood to the head having smelled spring on the breeze, (like a demented Carwash in Will o' the Wisp), I decided to bake something.

I have been meaning for a long time to make a lot of things out of the Leon 2 cookbook, which is about baking and puddings. Recipe Rifle's very own pork pie is in there - with a picture and everything - on pages 284/5. And Henry, a friend of my husband's, who runs Leon, remarked the other day that I hadn't mentioned the cookbook once here. That's because I can't see what good it would do them and I'm staggered that he noticed, but still I took the hint.

And then Henry and his wife Jemima, who as coincidence would have it was my first ever boss, went and had a(nother) baby! Little Dorothy "Dory" Dilys Dimbleby. What a little peach she is. And my husband Giles is her godfather, which really means that I get to go absolutely bonkers with his credit card twice a year.

Let me tell you a story about my godfather. His name is Sir Douglass Wass and he was, I think, my dad's boss when dad ~~was a spy~~ worked at the Treasury. The story goes that dad said to Sir Douglas when I was born "Will you be her godfather?" and Sir Douglas said "Oh I am very bad at that sort of thing but yes sure." And by then it was too late for dad to say "Oh forget it then you useless bastard." And as a result I heard absolutely hide nor hair from Sir Douglas. Ever. Never. Like, NEVER. But then I didn't actually have a christening so he may have been within his rights.

But it didn't stop me from thinking that it was something about me, something I'd done, that made him not especially interested in fulfilling his godfatherly duties. It left me feeling really quite shit about myself, seeing as my other sisters had perfectly normally functioning godparents. And next-eldest didn't have a wretched christening either.

So I can now, at last, lay a bad godparenting ghost to rest by being, via Giles, the world's best, most extravagant and mad godparent ever to Dory. I have started by purchasing a new hat for the christening.

And I am following this up with a banana bread baked in her honour. Yes I know it's more bananas, but I need the potassium, okay? And this banana bread is absolutely outstanding - much better than the other banana bread recipe on here. It is very banana-y, it's basically a lot of bananas held together with eggs and flour.

One of my favourite readers, Oraleek, just made the other banana bread, I note via my comments, and I feel very bad that she's been diddled out of making this one because I didn't post in time. But what can I say - life stinks.

Banana bread from the Leon 2 cookbook

50g pecan nuts
150 veg oil
200g dark brown sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
2 eggs
350g ripe skinned bananas
75g natural yoghurt
1 tsp bicarb of soda
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp salt
225g wholemeal spelt flour (yes they sell this in Waitrose)
1 extra banana, peeled
2 tbs caster sugar

1 Pre-heat your oven to 170C and butter a 2lb loaf tin and line it (YES you must do this, don't be lazy) and line a baking sheet, too.

2 Spread the pecans out over the baking sheet and toast in the oven for about 5 mins until golden and smelling yummy. you could probably also do this in a dry frying pan

3 In a bowl whisk together the oil, sugar, vanilla and eggs

4 In another bowl, roughly mash the bananas. I do mean roughly - you are going to stir them a lot later, so don't worry if there are very big lumps at this stage. Add the youghurt and mix together. Sprinkle over the bicarb of soda, baking powder, cinnamon and salt and stir again.

5 Mix the banana mixture and the sugar/egg mixture together. Chop the pecans and chuck those in too. Then sprinkle over the flour and stir until things are only just combined. Over-mixing is disastrous here so I actually left about 15% of dried flour still visible, which resulted in some seams of flour left running through the cake. So be brave, but not too brave. Spoon the batter into your smugly lined tin.

6 Slice your spare banana down the middle and place one half on top of the batter, then sprinkle over the caster sugar. The banana half will sink into the mixture during cooking and look terrific. I advise you to eat the other half to get in the mood.

7 Bake for 45-50 mins.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Black-eyed Pea Salad with Prosciutto

A black-eyed pea salad with Prosciutto, sundried tomatoes, pepperrocini, red onion, tossed with a simple fresh herb vinaigrette and served on a bed of Belgian endive leaves. You can serve it either as an appetizer or a side dish.

Black-eyed peas are an excellent source of calcium (an important nutrient for the health of our bones and teeth), folate (support red blood cell production and Allow nerves to function properly), and vitamin A (essential for maintaining healthy skin and vision ), among other nutrients. They are thought to bring you luck and prosperity if eaten on New Years, but they are healthy and delicious any time of the year.

Dried black-eyed peas, also known as the cow peas, are easy to use as they requires no soaking and cook quickly. If you are in a hurry, canned variety can be an option.

2 cup Dried black-eyed peas
60 g Prosciutto, diced
5-6 Sundried tomatoes, drained and chopped
3-4 Pepperocini, chopped
1 Small red onion, finely chopped
90 ml Olive oil
120 ml Red wine vinegar
2 tbsp Flat parsley leaves (or thyme), finely chopped
1 clove Garlic, minced
Sea salt and freshly ground pepper
1-2 head Belgian endives
3 Grape tomatoes, cut into wedges (optional)

Place black-eyed peas in large saucepan of water. Bring it to a boil over medium-high heat. Reduce heat to low and simmer for 40 minutes or until peas are tender but not mushy.
Meanwhile, in large bowl, whisk together olive oil, red wine vinegar, parsley or thyme, minced garlic, salt, and black pepper.
Drain black-eyed peas. Add to bowl with dressing along with prosciutto, sundried tomatoes, pepperocini, and red onion. Toss well to combine. Cover and chill for at least 4 hours.
Remove root end from endive and separate the leaves, rinse and pat dry. Arrange the endive leaves on a serving dish. Spoon the peas onto the leaves and arrange the tomato wedges, if used, on top. Serve at room temperature or chilled with a garnish of fresh thyme or parsley, if desired.

Sunday, February 19, 2012

Rye Bread with Chinese Red Dates and Sultanas

This dark, slightly chewy, raisin and Chinese date-studded bread has a subtle earthy flavours of dark rye, and mild sweetness of Chinese red dates and sultanas. It's a great combination with butter and tea in the morning or for the afternoon snack with a glass of milk.

20 g Wholegrain rye flour
120 ml Water
150 g Bread flour
50 g Wholewheat flour
120 g Dark rye flour
20 g Brown sugar
4 g Salt
190 ml Water, lukewarm
25 g Walnut oil
10 g Fresh yeast, crumbled
50 g Chinese red dates, chopped
120 g Sultanas

Combine together wholegrain rye flour and 120 ml water in a small pot until the mixture is well blended and lump free. Cook the mixture over the medium heat, frequently stirring, until it has turned into a thick paste and the thermometer reads about 65C/150F. It takes about 2-3 minutes. Cool the mixture to the room temperature and cover with a plastic wrap while you prepare other ingredients.
In the bowl of your stand mixer fitted with a dough hook, place in the bread flour, wholewheat flour, rye flour, brown sugar, and salt. Make a well in the center, add in water, 20 grams walnut oil and crumbled fresh yeast. Mix on slow speed until combined. Increase the speed to medium and knead until the dough is smooth.
Turn out the dough onto a lightly floured work surface. Sprinkle with chopped red dates and sultanas and knead with your hands until they are just incorporated. Grease the mixing bowl lightly with the rest of walnut oil. Place the dough in the bowl, cover the bowl, and allow it to rise until doubled in size.
Dust an 8-inch round proofing basket with rye flour and set aside. Turn the dough out onto work surface, kneading briefly, and shape into a round. Place the dough, seam side up, into the floured basket. Cover with a towel and let dough rise again until it reaches the top of the basket.
Preheat the oven to 190C/375F. Turn the proofed bread onto a parchment paper lined baking sheet. Use a very sharp knife to cut a decorative pattern on the top of the boule. Bake the bread in the center of hot oven for 35 minutes until nicely golden brown.

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Banana on toast

My favourite time of day is between 8am and 11.15am. I can deal with the day from 7am if absolutely neccessary but any time before 7am is liable to make me depressed and anxious. Similarly, the hours between noon and 5pm can go and fuck themselves, as can any time after 11pm at night.

Similarly I love breakfast. Love, love, love. I could eat breakfast all day long. I go through great phrases of clinging loyalty to certain sorts of breakfast. For example, when I was on the Atkins diet I made myself bacon and eggs (no toast) every single morning. Then I decided that Just Right cereal was the thing. Then there was a couple of years when I would have marmalade on sourdough, every day. Then my weight-loss museli phase. Then for a while when Kitty was very small I would breakfast on Sudocrem and high anxiety. And now, with the smell of spring in the air and sunshine around the corner, I have seized upon bananas on toast and hot chocolate as being the very thing.

Meanwhile, let me tell you a really weird story. About four years ago I knew, very briefly, a girl called Olivia. We met at a bizarre dinner party, set up for the amusement of a Bajan millionaire, at which Olivia was pre-told to leave at 9.15pm so's to encourage everyone else to fuck off, too. But it didn't work and all that happened was that I hung about at the party for another hour, irritated that the only normal person had left. Then we met again at an annual Christmas party, where we stood in a corner and fell into the cautious but basically easy chatter of two redheads talking to each other.

(I often avoid other redheads. The best way I can explain it is because they know too much.)

She is the kind of redhead I so wish I was, is Olivia. Tall, slim, pale, with blue eyes and long elegant fingers. I have the ruddy cheeks of a farmer's son, a fat bum and the stumpy, picked-at dwarf-hands of a labourer. Not neccesssarily in a bad way - it has its merits and it's just a type - I just often wish I was the other type.

Anyway, the following year at the same Christmas party I looked around hopefully for Olivia. I asked people: where is she? Not there, not anywhere. She then published her debut novel, (an absolutely terrific book called The Trouble With Alice), and wrote an enigmatic piece in The Spectator. I emailed the email address she had divulged to me at the first Christmas party. Where was she? Was she alright? The email bounced back.

Then, 18 months later, as I was slumped over my iPad the other night there was an email - from Olivia. She had seen my blog. How was I? She, too, lives in North London. I emailed back, clumsily, from my iPad, in high fever. Where the hell had she been? We had much to talk about. We made a date for coffee.

The next day, Valentine's Day, in the midst of re-reading The Trouble With Alice, my head full of it all, I took a bus to Oxford Circus from Kentish Town. I looked up and down the street - surely Olivia would come pedalling past on her bicycle - it was that sort of day.

But she didn't. I ran my errands in town and turned down Maddox Street, in search of a Ryman's and there she was, after all, coming towards me. I was unsurprised about it, but still, it was the most amazing coincidence.

A lot of banana-eating goes on in Olivia's book, too. It is available on Kindle.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Vegan Lemon Curd Thumbprints

I have always had a soft spot for the bright, mildly sweet and lemony thumbprint cookies. This thumbprints recipe uses a vegan lemon curd to fill the cookies made with a mix of spelt, buckwheat, walnuts, walnut oil and maple syrup. Traditional lemon curd recipes call for the use of eggs and butter, but this recipe is a bit healthier, while still sweet, tart and satisfying. You can also fill them with your favorite jelly.

Vegan Lemon Curd Thumbprints

adapted from Dairy Free Cooking

Vegan Lemon Curd	Cookie
150 g Fresh lemon juice 150 g Sugar 1 tbsp Fresh lemon zest 1/4 tsp Salt 1 tbsp Coconut milk 2 tbsp Cornstarch 2 tbsp Cold water 2 tbsp Soya margarine ©angiesrecipes	130 g Spelt pastry flour 120 g Buckwheat, toasted and finely ground 100 g Walnuts, finely ground 1/4 tsp Salt 125 ml Walnut oil 200 g Maple syrup Cranberries and poppy seed (optional)

In a small saucepan over medium heat, combine the lemon juice, sugar, lemon zest and salt, stirring well to dissolve the sugar. Combine together the coconut milk, cornstarch, and cold water in a small bowl, stirring well to combine.
Add the cornstarch mixture, stirring constantly, cook until the mixture begins to thicken and the first few bubbles appear on the surface, about 8 minutes. Add soya margarine, and cook until the mixture resembles a thick pudding. Transfer the mixture to a heat proof dish, cover with plastic wrap and let cool completely before placing in the refrigerator to chill. Chill lemon curd for 2 hours before using.
Preheat the oven to 350 F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and set aside. In a medium-sized mixing bowl, sift together the spelt pastry flour, finely ground buckwheat, finely ground walnut and salt until well combined, making a well in the center.
Add in walnut oil and maple syrup to the center, and stir the mixture with a wooden spoon until it forms a dry dough that just holds together.
Form the dough into 2-inch balls, and place them onto the prepared sheet, pressing a "thumbprint" into the center of each and slightly flattening. (The cookies will not spread, so make them the size that you want!) Add about 1 teaspoonful of lemon curd to each thumbprint and top with a cranberry or some poppy seeds if using. Bake until golden brown, about 15 minutes. Let cookies cool for several minutes on the sheet before transferring to a wire cooling rack to cool completely.

Friday, February 10, 2012

Potato Bread Batons with Cheese and Pear

What could be better than homemade bread, especially when it's studded with the earthy flavours of cheese, walnuts, potatoes, fresh thyme and pears. I love it served with a steaming soup on ice cold days. It's also great for a school packed lunch.

Potato Bread Batons with Cheese and Pear

adapted from daheim und unterwegs

Bread	Cheese Spread
200 g Potatoes, diced and boiled 18 g Fresh yeast 550 g Water, lukewarm 100 g Sourdough 800 g Spelt flour 150 g Rye flour 18 g Salt 150 g Walnut, chopped 4 Pears, seeded and cut into wedges	150 g Gorgonzola 150 g Emmental 150 g Sour cream 170 g Quark Salt and pepper to taste 2 tbsp Fresh thyme, chopped 2-3 tbsp Bread crumb

Peel the potatoes and cut into small pieces. Fill a large pot with the potatoes. Add enough water to cover the potatoes. Once the water boils, reduce the heat to medium and cook for about 15 minutes until potatoes are tender. Drain and cool to room temperature.
In the bowl of your stand mixer fitted with a dough hook, dissolve the yeast in water. Add in sourdough, flours, salt, walnuts and cooked potatoes. Mix on slow speed for 4 minutes, then increase the speed and mix a further 4 minutes.
Place the dough on a lightly floured work surface and divide it into 6 even portions. Shape each into a ball and rest, covered, for 15 minutes. Knead the dough balls gently and briefly. Cover, and rest for a further 15 minutes. Shape each dough ball into a baton and allow them to rest, covered, for 15 minutes.
To prepare the cheese spread by combining all the ingredients in a bowl. Transfer the mixture into a pastry bag. With a sharp serrated knife, slash the top of the bread lengthwise, about 1/4-inch deep. Pipe the cheese mixture onto the cut and press 5-6 pear wedges on top. Allow them to rest for 30 minutes. Preheat the oven to 220C/430F and bake for about 35 minutes until nicely golden brown.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Potatoes boulangere

Ok I'm back. Boiler fixed. Norovirus gone. House tidy. Admin mostly done.

Things not done:

Car still dirty...
...and messy
Desk and general working area an absolute tip
No food in the house
Kitty's tea-stained pyjamas still in a bowl of water and not been through washing machine

BUT I do have here for you a really great idea for potatoes (even though anything with potatoes is just super). It's called potatoes boulangere and I'm sure there are all sorts of smartarses out there who know all about it already, but for those who don't, it's like a non-gloopy/heart attack potato dauphinoise. A real crowd-pleaser. (Is that a totally wankerish phrase or not? I can't decide.)

My husband's friend Jim did this for us the other day and he said he did it like this:

Slice up a lot of potatoes and onions. Arrange them flatly in a baking dish and pour over some good chicken stock until the potatoes are just covered. Add a lot of salt and pepper. Then put in the oven at 180C for 2.5 hours. On the rack above the potatoes put a joint of meat, if you are having one. As the meat cooks, the fat will drip down on to the potatoes.

It was GREAT. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to go and enjoy life before the next ghastly thing happens.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Chorizo and bean soup stew by EmFrid

Nigel Slater’s Chorizo and Bean soup stew

SNOW! Proper. Snow. It has settled and everything! I love snow. It takes me back to of winters of yore (ok, the mid to late eighties) when we lived on a remote farm and got snowed in every winter. Back then every single Christmas was white, godammit, and my parents used to strap Viktor, the piebald Shetland pony impulse-bought by my dad from a circus, to a small sled for Santa to use on his rounds before coming to us with presents. Incidentally, given that he is covered from top to toe in bad tattoos, it’s a testament to my dad’s amazing ability for disguises that it took me until I was nine years old to figure out it was him behind the beard. It was a soul destroying discovery.

Snow is also one of the main reasons behind my relentless Let’s Move Back to Sweden! campaign (besides, you know, the schnapps, the strong economy, the virtually free childcare, the exceedingly generous maternity leave and the schnapps). “Goblin and Troll the Foetus ought to experience proper seasons and white Christmases just like I did!” I wail forlornly. My other half, having grown up in the damp West Country and being equipped with the view that snow is merely an obstacle to overcome during his Very Important Commute, just shrugs cruelly.

ANYWAY, the point that I wanted to make is that the thing with snow and cold weather in general is that it provides an excellent excuse - should you need one - for warming, comforting one pot meals with lots of flavour. Such as this Spanish inspired chorizo and bean stew, by Nigel Slater. It really is lovely, and it’s everything I want out of a dinner when it’s delightfully cold outside. It’s also, once you are done arsing about with all the chopping, very easy to make. If I say one thing it’s don’t leave out the orange peel or the fennel seeds (unless you absolutely can’t stand fennel, you weird, weird person) as it marries beautifully with the smoked paprika flavour of the chorizo and in my frankly grossly unprofessional opinion makes the dish. Do as I say!

Oh, and Nigel refers to this as a “soup”. Hey Nige? It’s a stew, man. It’s a stew.

For about four people you will need:
2 onions - chopped.
3 or so garlic cloves – thinly sliced or just squeezed through a garlic press. Why faff?
2 carrots – chopped.
A rib of celery (that’s a stick of celery to you and me) – chopped.
A tablespoon fresh oregano though I used dry, as I don’t habitually have fresh oregano knocking about in winter
Chorizo – about 400g or however much or little you want, cut into bite sized chunks. I use Unearthed’s cooking chorizo, but this will work well with whatever chorizo you have to hand.
Fennel seeds – Nigel says a pinch but I use a lot more because I love fennel, and I really think it adds to the dish.
3-4 strips of orange zest.
A glass of dry sherry (or white wine, which I used, though I prefer sherry for sherry is the nectar of the gods – I just didn’t have any at home).
5-6 tomatoes – chopped. I (along with Nigel in this instance) don’t bother with the whole peel ‘n’ deseed business, but if you’re feeling less barbaric go ahead and do it.
2 tins of cannellini beans – drained.

Do like so:

1 Heat some oil in a deep pan. Moderate heat. Cook the onion until it starts to soften. Add garlic, carrot and celery, then leave to cook until the onion is golden and soft. Stir in the oregano.

2. Add the chorizo along with the crushed chillies, fennel seeds and strips of orange zest. Cook until the chorizo starts to release its juices to coat the veg. This is delicious and a Very Good Thing. Throw in your glass of sherry/white wine/vermouth and reduce down a bit.

3. Once reduced add your chopped tomatoes, beans and some fresh water – about a canful. Season well with salt and pepper, bring to a boil, then turn down to a simmer and leave to slowly cook half covered by a lid, for about 45 minutes.

4. Before serving sprinkle with some chopped parsley and maybe some grated orange zest.

We had this with warm sundried tomato rolls which I made by mixing some sundried tomatoes with the ingredients for a basic white dough and then employing my trusty old bread maker. Bread makers are magic! Eat this while looking out the window at all that pretty, PRETTY snow, feeling warm and cosy and smug that you’re not actually outside in it. Because it’s cold. And wet. And the little shits from next door will chuck snowballs mixed with pebbles right at your neck the second you step outside. You know they will.

Life stoves my head in

I am writing this in my mother's kitchen, trying to make sense of the appalling practical mess I find myself in.

It started with my nanny's deciding to go back to her native St Lucia for 2 months, which in the run-up neccessitated all sorts of days off in which to tend to the personal admin that goes with leaving the country for two months. My cleaner, the beautiful and humorous M-, who is taking over from the nanny, was due to start her nannying duties when Kitty got norovirus. Then I got norovirus. Then just as the snow came down, our boiler finally gave out and I screamed and screamed until the boiler man agreed to come first thing on Monday morning to give us a new one.

So, reeling from 10 hours of vomiting, on Monday morning, I packed up the gargantuan volumes of cack required to spend two days away from home with a one year old and drove through the snow to my mother's house. I haven't got my diary. I've got no fucking idea what's going on. I can't find anything in my mother's house and my mobile phone battery is running out. I also forgot to pack spare pants and am wearing yesterday's. My hands are horrifyingly cracked, dried-out, bleedy and picked-at from the endless hand-washing and anxiety-picking that goes with two bouts of noro and being too distracted to find the hand moisturiser.

What else? Oh yes, the endless slew of crap and paperwork that goes with a minor amount of building work we are having done later on this year. The ghostly images in my head of some really scary things lurking in the back of the fridge and the larder. The horrifying thought of having to pack up and move out of the house for two months while our building work happens.

At the very least, Kitty is going through one of her fortnight-long phases of being totally delightful before she decides that being "challenging" is more interesting. Small mercies.

To cut a long story short: no cooking. But I leave you in the more than capable hands of EmFrid, who is about to tell you all about a bean and chorizo stew, any minute now.

Monday, February 6, 2012

Homemade Beef Ravioli with Roasted Tomato Sauce

This is an comforting and delicious homemade pasta with browned ground beef filling. It's simply sauced with a roasted tomato sauce. If you're a fan of homemade pasta, take some time and make your dinner special.

Homemade Beef Ravioli with Roasted Tomato Sauce

adapted from Klassische italienische Küche von Julia della Croce

Roasted Tomato Sauce	Beef Ravioli
500 g Roma tomatoes 1 Yellow onion, chopped 6 Garlic cloves, peeled 2 tbsp Olive oil 1 tbsp Sugar Salt and pepper 1 tbsp Fresh thyme 200 ml White wine 2 tbsp Balsamic vinegar	300 g Pasta flour (or bread flour) 1/8 tsp Salt 4 Large eggs 1 tbsp Olive oil 200 g Ground beef 1 Shallot, minced 1 clove Garlic, minced 2 tbsp Parsley, chopped 1/4 tsp Salt 1 Egg white, beaten Parmesan, grated (optional) Chives, chopped (optional)

Preheat an oven to 200C/400F. Slice each tomato in half lengthwise and place on a sheet pan, cut side up. Roughly chop the onion and scatter the pieces around the tomatoes. Scatter the garlic cloves on top of the onion. Drizzle with olive oil, then season with the sugar, salt, pepper, and thyme.
Roast the vegetables for 30 minutes or until the tomatoes are soft. Remove from the oven and transfer the roasted tomatoes into a large saucepan. With an immersion blender process the tomatoes to the desired consistency. Bring the tomato sauce to a simmer. Add in white wine and balsamic vinegar. Simmer for a further 20 minutes.
Combine pasta flour and salt on a clean work surface and make a well in the center. Place 3 eggs and olive oil in the well, and incorporate the flour into the liquid ingredients until combined. Knead the dough vigorously until it becomes smooth and elastic.
Allow the dough to rest, covered with plastic wrap, for at least 1 hour before rolling it out. Flatten a manageable amount of dough (about the size of an orange) on a clean work surface dusted with flour. Cover the rest of the dough. Using a rolling pin, work from the center of the dough to the edges with a back-and-forth motion, rolling and stretching the dough. Continue rolling, turning the dough occasionally and dusting it with flour to prevent sticking and tearing, until the sheet is the desired thickness. Leave the dough sheets to dry for 10-15 minutes before cutting.
Cook ground meat, minced shallot and garlic in a skillet until meat is browned. Remove and strain off the fat. Stir in one egg, parsley and salt.
Cut the dough sheet into 8-cm wide strips and place spoonfuls of filling about 4cm apart on one strip. Brush the area between fillings with egg white and top with a second strip of dough. Form ravioli by pressing around each filling to form a seal. Dust with flour and cut into squares with a pastry wheel. Crimp the edges of the ravioli with a fork to ensure that they are sealed properly. Alternatively you can cut out the wraps using a 2-inch cookie cutter.
Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook the ravioli for 5 minutes in a rapidly boiling salted water. Drain and gently toss with the sauce. Sprinkle some grated Parmesan and chopped chives on top if desired. Serve immediately.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Buckwheat Wasabi Crackers with Walnuts and Sesame Seeds

These gluten-free crackers, a tasty and healthy blend of buckwheat, walnuts, sesame seeds and spiced with wasabi (Japanse mustard), thin, crisp, and have an earthy flavour and an intense and rich sesame taste.

Buckwheat Wasabi Crackers with Walnuts and Sesame Seeds

adapted from All Day I Dream About Food

100 g Buckwheat, ground
100 g Walnuts, ground
40 g Sesame seeds, toasted
1 tsp Baking powder
1/3 tsp Salt
3 tbsp Sesame oil
2 tbsp Wasabi paste
1 Egg, lightly beaten

Preheat the oven to 160C/320F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Combine together ground buckwheat, ground walnuts, toasted sesame seeds, baking powder and salt in a mixing bowl.
In another bowl, whisk together the sesame oil, wasabi paste and egg. Pour the oil mixture to the flour mixture. Mix until a dough forms.
Place the dough between two sheets of parchment papers and roll out to a rectangle approximately 2mm thick. With a sharp knife, cut into 2-inch squares or cut out with a round cookie cutter and place each one on the prepared baking sheet. Bake 30 minutes until firm and crisp. Turn off the oven and leave crackers in the oven for 30 minutes before transfering them to the wire racks to cool.