Ethiopian Doro Wat

I’m staying with Lowell on the Isle of Wight. We met in Addis Ababa and he’s had this crazy idea to have an Ethiopian night. I’ve brought down all the ingredients I suspect he won’t have in his local co-op. This is really, really hot. I’ve warned him about this, but he says it’s what he wants. He’s very cute and he’s hard to resist. Here we go:

Berbere Spice Mix

1 tsp ground ginger

1 tsp cumin

½ tsp ground coriander

½ tsp ground black pepper

½ tsp turmeric

¼ tsp ground nutmeg

Big pinch each ground cloves, cinnamon & allspice

½ tsp ground cardamom

½ tsp fenugreek seeds

2 tbsp finely chopped onion

1 tbsp finely chopped garlic

1 tbsp salt

50g paprika

2 tbsp hot chilli powder

3-5 Tbsp oil

A splash of water to loosen it up if it needs it.

4 chicken legs & 4 chicken thighs

Juice of 3 lemons

1 tsp salt

3 tbsp butter

2 onions chopped

2 cloves garlic, chopped

15cm ginger, grated

100g tomato puree

65ml dry wine

180ml water

1x 410g can mixed vegetables

4 hard boiled eggs, shelled.

The list of spices is long, but know it’s good and from an ancient tradition. The expertise of the mix was once taken into consideration as part of the dowry. (Are you listening, Lowell?)

Ethiopiques CD goes on, fairly loud. As soon as you get into the Addis groove, mix the Berbere ingredients into a paste. Oddly it sounds like Burberry when you say it. Let me say this again, this is very hot - 2 heaped tablespoons of chilli powder: the average Schwarz jar only contains 3 or 4! You can make it milder but we are in Addis mood now. When Mahmoud Ahmed tracks appear on the CD turn the volume up!  Put the chicken in a bowl, slash with a knife and rub with the lemon juice and salt. Allow both the lemony chicken and spice paste to rest for 20 minutes. Hold Lowell close and dance with him, hips joined, to the music. There’s nothing like Ethiopian music – it’s incredibly sexy. 20 minutes will get you through a good few tracks of wax and gold.

Cook the onions in the butter until soft, and add the ginger, garlic, Berbere and tomato paste. Cook for 5 mins. This is the point of no return. Too late to ask Lowell if he’s sure, though he says he is. Pour in the wine and water and simmer another 5 mins. Wine sounds oddly un-Ethiopian, though I’ve looked up 6 different recipes for this and they all include it. Red or white seems not to matter. Pointless to suggest a wine you’ll have with dinner as this is so spicy, you won’t be able to taste it. Save it for another day. I’m sort of sure vinegar is more authentic, but as every recipe says wine, so it must be.

My first view of Addis was through thick fog. My first view of Lowell was of a cute guy, obviously English, wearing a stripy sweatshirt and holding a Penguin Classics copy of The Tales of Hoffman. Neither the sweatshirt nor the book marked him out as cool, yet there was a certain something about him…………

Thicken the sauce for 5 mins or so and add the chicken. Cook for 15 mins. Gently stir in the halved eggs and the drained can of mixed veg (should be diced carrots, peas etc.), cook for a further 15 mins. Let it rest a few minutes.

Ideally you should serve this with Injera, the fermented Ethiopian flatbread but a) you can’t easily get Tef flour to make it with and b) I don’t like it. It’s like a sour pancake though it has the most amazing wafer thin texture. I would like to learn to love it.

Instead I’m doing it with both rice and coconut chapattis as I think a little sweetness will offset the incredible heat. We’re having beer, though while it’s not remotely Ethiopian, I’m also making a sweet mango and yoghurt Lassi: Pulp from 2 mangoes, a glass of milk, twice as much yoghurt, and sugar to taste. Get it cold in the fridge and it will cool the fire.

Lowell and I (and a gorgeous guy called Tom) bought 24 hour tourist visas and hired a taxi to drive us around late-night Addis. Amazing city. We didn’t stop to eat, but having consulted six African cook books, I’m convinced this is the real thing. I had it once at the (now extinct) Africa Centre in London’s Covent Garden. It was the hottest thing I’d ever eaten. Someone ordered loads of Injera. It did seem to mop up the heat though it’s just not for me. It’s like a tablecloth- thin, soured pancake with holes in it like a crumpet and the texture of thin latex. I’m probably not doing it justice.

 So, Doro Wat. Lowell’s insistent on this being authentic but it will make him go pink and it will probably make him cry. And I’ll find it adorable. Eat slowly.

Malawi Rock Shandy

As not everyone will be drinking alcohol on New Year’s Eve, I’m sharing a soft drink recipe. I was lucky enough to be in Malawi this Summer and we were having lunch at Chez Maky, which is just outside Blantyre town centre. One of our party ordered a Rock Shandy, and it brought memories flooding back. I haven’t had one since I was a boy. They are delicious and refreshing. There are two versions but this is the Malawi recipe.

Fill a glass with ice and pour in half ginger ale and half lemonade. Shake in a good dash of Angostura Bitters.

And that’s it – it has an intriguing flavour. It’s supposed to have originated in Zimbabwe but everyone knows it a Malawi Rock Shandy – I suppose by the same measure, French Toast probably isn’t French, nor Irish Coffee, Irish and so on.

In South Africa a Rock Shandy replaces the ginger ale with soda water so I’d be tempted to add another dash of bitters.

Torshi Lefet

One of the best things about my organic Veg box scheme is that you can register which vegetables you don’t like, so that they can bring on a sub. I have registered Kohl Rabi. The box turned up this morning and I have a load of turnips instead, so I’m making this Lebanese pink pickle, called Torshi Lefet.

500ml water

3 tbsp salt

12 small turnips

2 small beetroot

4 cloves garlic

Handful celery leaves

500ml white wine vinegar.

Put the instructional Bellydance DVD on. Put the water on to boil, with the salt poured in. Once it boils let it cool. Peel the veg and cut into small wedges. The beetroot will make everything pink so don’t wear your Diesel white T-shirt when making this. Peel and halve the garlic.

Layer the turnips in sterilised jars, adding beetroot, garlic and celery leaves as you go. Mix the vinegar and cooled brine and pour over the veg. make sure it’s all covered and jiggle things about if you spot any air pockets. This is where the bellydance DVD comes in handy.

It will be ready in two weeks and keeps for months. It’s prettily pink and the colour alone is enough to banish winter blues. You could boil the life out of your turnips and then mash them but how much more lovely would this be? Serve as part of a Meze table or with something rich – or just with drinks.

The Lebanese have a saying – Her face is whiter than the inside of a turnip. In midwinter we’re all looking pretty pasty. Think of the pretty shade of pink your guy goes when he blushes (when you’re complimenting him to his Mother for example) and compare it to the pink of these beetroot infused turnips. Surely it’s time for a new saying in honour of these pickles….

Boxing Day Ham with Watercress Salsa

Boxing Day – the Feast of St Stephen, is still a feast day. But I’ve had my fill of food roasted in goose fat, of mince pies, cake, puddings and chocolate. A ham at Christmas is still traditional, but the salsa gives it a zippy freshness that really lifts it.

1 Kg Gammon ham

1 Onion

3 Carrots

1 bulb fennel

Some parsley stalks

5 or 6 peppercorns

3 Bay leaves

Watercress Salsa

A small bunch each flat leaved parsley & mint

A decent bunch Watercress

2 cloves garlic

½  a bulb fennel

2 tbsp capers

1 tbsp Dijon mustard

2 tbsp lemon juice

Olive oil

I’m spending New Year’s Eve with Lowell (the curious straight boy). He lives on the Isle of Wight and I believe our best Watercress comes from Hampshire so this is getting me in the mood.

Choose a ham. Smoked or unsmoked is up to you – I’m going for unsmoked as I don’t want the ham fighting with this amazing sauce.Cover it with water in a deep pan with the onion (halved but unpeeled), carrots, fennel, parsley stalks, peppercorns and bay leaves. Simmer it gently for half an hour or so. I like to let it rest in the water for another half an hour or so, once it’s done.

To make the salsa, finely chop the mint, parsley, watercress, garlic and fennel – a food processor would be a good cheat but you’re looking for finely chopped rather than pureed. Drizzle some oil over to bind it. Add the capers, lemon juice and mustard and mix in. Drizzle in more olive oil until it makes a sloppy sauce. Taste it – it might need more lemon juice.

This is lovely spooned over hot or cold ham. Your boy will love it in sandwiches too. These few days after Christmas are sandwich heaven for him as the fridge is full of amazing possibilities. If you love him, have some decent bread to hand and let him knock himself out.

Spaghetti Carbonara for Christmas Eve

For years I have had this for supper on Christmas Eve. I think something relatively simple before the feasting begins is fitting, though it does get a nod towards the festive season that won’t sit well with purists. I’ve been out with a few American boys, the last being a Bostonian, who usually insist that the pasta must be spaghetti. If making this on my own, I’ll usually plump for tagliatelli instead.

Shopping takes its toll. Cooking for one day doesn’t usually seem to involve quite as much as it does at Christmas. Still, you’re happy with his Christmas present and he’s looking pretty pleased with himself so it’s time to start feeding him up. This serves 2 – not dinner party food, just for you and him. 

300g Spaghetti

2 tsp Olive oil

190g smoked Lardons

Big handful sliced chestnut mushrooms

4 tbsp Noily Prat (or white wine)

4 egg yolks

50 ml double cream

6 tbsp grated Parmesan

Black pepper & fresh nutmeg

2 heaped tbsp. butter

Finely chopped Parsley

I have a CD of German Christmas music from the 1950’s, but really, any American 1950’s music would br good. Doris Day would be ideal. At a pinch, the soundtrack to The Sound of Music. A certain amount of kitsch is required to stop you trying to turn this into something gourmet. Your boy wants feeding. He’s not fussed about garnish.

A note on the eggs - free range generally means stuck in a cramped shed, rather than stuck in a cage - which is a bit better, obviously. Please look for Organic Free Range. They don't cost that much more. The eggs in this recipe are barely cooked and need to be the best. You love your guy - do the best for him.

Put the water on to boil for the spaghetti. It should be very salty. In a large saute pan, cook the Lardons until they are crisp and golden. Don't trim the fat off - it's still feast time! Usually I don’t go for smoked, finding it too salty, but here it cuts through the creamy sauce wonderfully. Drain and reserve, and then soften the mushrooms in the same pan, adding more oil if needed. They will pick up some bacon flavour. He will no doubt wander in, smelling the bacon cooking,and in hope of nibbling the odd piece. Don’t let him – you need all of it. Resist those pleading eyes and remind him of all the good things on TV he’s missing.

Add the vermouth to the mushrooms and bubble it for a few minutes, scraping the bits from the bottom of the pan. In the unlikely event he is watching you do this, explain it is called deglazing. Put the pan aside while the pasta finishes cooking.

In a bowl beat together, the egg yolks, the parmesan, cream, pepper and some grated nutmeg. When it’s combined add the bacon.

When the pasta is done, put the mushroom/vermouth pan back on the heat and add the butter. Drain the pasta and add it to the sauté pan and toss gently. Take it off the heat and add the egg mixture. Turn the pasta into it until covered with the carbonara. Don’t put it back on the heat unless you’re curious to try spaghetti with scrambled eggs. When all is coated, plate up and sprinkle parsley on top. Enjoy with a glass or three of Chilean Chardonnay.

This is comfort food and he really won’t appreciate how special this is. Never mind. You love him, and being under-appreciated from time to time is part of how you show it.

Lamb Ragu a la Saint Rada

Work Christmas lunch at Strada today and very nice it was too. I had Pappardelle with a rich lamb ragu. This is my version. It makes loads but you  know my views on ragu by now. 1) You’ll want it again tomorrow. 2) It freezes.

2 kg shoulder of lamb, unboned weight

200ml white wine

4 tbs olive oil

3 onions, sliced

2 cloves garlic, chopped

3 celery stalks, chopped

200ml meat stock

Leaves of 2 sprigs Thyme

2 Bay Leaves

Needles of 2 rosemary sprigs

2 tins chopped tomatoes

500g Pappardelle (or any other ribbon type pasta)

Grated parmesan to serve

Cut the lamb up into small cubes – I think very small is best so that the lamp is picked up by the pasta. Take your time and just enjoy doing it. If you can multi-task, an audio book of something improving might be an idea – learning Italian perhaps! If you've got the bone, roast it. If your boy makes jokes about stuffing, wait until he gets started on the bone!

Brown the lamb in a sauté pan and then add the onions, and celery. Garlic goes in last. Tip into a casserole and pour on the wine. And in fact everything else. I think red wine will be preferable to have with the meal, but you’ve opened a bottle of white for the recipe. What’s a boy to do? “Just the one, Mrs Wembley!” Push the roasted bone down into the sauce to add depth of flavour.

A word on the Italian brands I keep mentioning – Cirio Tomatoes have been canned in Italy since 1856 and De Cecco have been making pasta since 1908. They must be doing something right so it’s worth hunting them out.

Cover and cook in a preheated oven at 200/ Gas 6 for up to 2 hours, though check after an hour and a half. Fish out the bone and the bay leaves. Their work is done.

Serve with Pappardelle pasta and a good sprinkling of Parmesan. The waiter who grated the cheese over my Christmas lunch was adorable. Dark brown eyes with an eager smile. His hair was just long enough to curl behind his ears. Molto Bello! Having someone like that would really add the finishing touch to this dish. You’ll have to improvise, otherwise.

Stuff a Duck!

Sage & Onion is lovely but I think a duck or goose needs something more festive. Sage has a medicinal musty taste – which I love, but here’s something a little more uplifting.

2 tbs Olive oil

4 shallots, chopped

4 celery sticks

2 Bramley apples

175g Pecan nuts

150g breadcrumbs

A large bunch parsley, chopped

25g Thyme, chopped

½ tsp each ground cloves and cinnamon

Zest and juice of 2 oranges

3 cloves garlic, finely chopped

110g melted butter

Salt & pepper

Even the ingredients sound like Christmas. You can make this ahead and freeze it so if you have a spare hour on a Sunday afternoon, making this would be the perfect accompaniment to Radio 4’s Classic Serial.  Assume your guy is out, finally making a start on his Christmas shopping, with just days to go, as usual. Including this as part of his Christmas dinner will impress him. He knows you do the cooking but he sort of imagines dinner just comes together by itself. This is so full of flavour though, it will stop him in his tracks.

Sweat the shallots in the oil until soft and allow them to cool. Peel, core and chop the apples (they have to be Bramleys or another sour cooking apple) and chop the celery. Warm the pecans in a dry frying pan and roughly chop. You may end up having to pick the pecans out of a selection of mixed nuts!

Mix everything in a large bowl, adding the melted butter last, and season well. Despite its name I never use this to actually stuff a bird – I think it just adds to the cooking time and doesn’t materially add to the flavour (though a halved lemon and a sprig of herbs pushed up its bottom is a generally a good idea). You can roll the mixture into balls and bake them but I prefer to press the mixture into a shallow baking tin – that way it will be crisp and crunchy on the top and moist in the middle. Dot with butter and bake at 190 for 25 mins.

Your boy often makes crude jokes about “stuffing” – this seemingly isn’t something exclusive to straight boys. He doesn’t make jokes about this just in case it jeopardises his chances of getting some more.

New York Bread & Butter Pickles for his Boxing Day Sandwich

Yes, I know I’ve given you recipes for pickles already but I’m obsessed with them and this one will be ready very quickly. Imagine it’s Boxing Day and you’re making his lunch. He’s getting a massive sandwich with cold goose, crisp streaky bacon, lettuce, thinly sliced tomatoes, some left over sage & onion stuffing, mayonnaise and some fiery chutney. It’s white bread but thickly sliced. Serve with Seabrooks crisps and some bread & butter pickles on the side. Make the pickles in advance. Ideally now.

6 Lebanese cucumbers (the short ones)

2 medium red onions

2 tbsp salt

3 cups cider vinegar

1 cup sugar

1 tsp mustard seeds

1 tsp celery seeds

½ tsp turmeric

Pinch ground cloves

You’re looking for mini cucumbers but not necessarily the curly ones. Get him to slice these into thin rounds, while you do the same with the onions. Put in a bowl and sprinkle the salt over. Leave it for 3 hours. This will draw water out so when you add the vinegar it will want to suck all that liquid back in. Even though you hate it, use the 3 hours to bond with him on the PS3. He’s been sweet. He’s still wearing the Christmas jumper his Mum bought him. It makes him look about 16 and he keeps admiring the Morocco bound Shakespeare, with gold tooling, you got him.

Drain the water off and sort of wipe the salt off with paper towels but don’t obsess over this. Layer the oinion and cucumber in sterilised jars. Add everything else to a pan and bring to the boil. The second it does, ladle it into over the cucumber and onion. Seal and keep in a dark place. Give it at least a week and keep in the fridge once open.  It won’t keep forever so don’t contemplate a sandwich without these. Seabrooks Crisps as well – Salt & Vinegar. These are from West Yorkshire and every other brand will be a weak compromise after you’ve tried them.  This is a New York recipe by the way – there’s a Connecticut version that includes green pepper & celery seeds but I suspect I’m a New York kind of guy!

So give him his bloke-sized sandwich with the crisps and a heap of well drained bread & butter pickles on the side while he’s watching Christmas Specials of his favourite comedies. Make him a mug of strong Yorkshire tea. The Christmas jumper will need to come off eventually. Help him with it and admire the long diamond of straight hair between his pecs as he pulls it over his head. This is the best gift he could give you. You know it; he kind of knows it. Happy Christmas!

Yoghurt Sauce for Christmas Pudding

There’s a limit to how much stodge I can eat at Christmas time though, to be fair, I could manage quite a bit more at this standpoint.

This is so much more refreshing than brandy butter or cream and really complements a rich Christmas pudding without being low-fat-skinny virtuous (which nobody wants at this time of year).

200g Greek Yoghurt

5tbs Skimmed Milk

Juice of ½ a lemon

Pinch Cinnamon

2tbs Honey

Mix together. That’s it. 

Hot Christmas pudding that is far too hot to eat. Cold sauce. Heaven.  The first Christmas I made this I was with a Canadian boy called Owen. We had decided to rent a house on the Suffolk coast for the holiday. It was literally across the road from the beach. Owen thought a skinny dip on New Year’s Eve would bring good luck. I loved him and was stupid. We undressed in the house and ran across the road screaming with exhilaration. Then we hit the water and it was like being lacerated with glass. I will never forget the pain of entering water that had been chilled for months by Arctic winds. Our willies shrunk to Lilliputian proportions and we limped back across the road to the house. Never again. It took literally hours to stop hurting.

Just to get the image of the shrunken willies out of your mind (I certainly want it out of mine) – another Christmas combination to distract you: If you don’t like Christmas cake (the proper stuff with marzipan and icing), have it with a decent sized piece of Wensleydale cheese. The chalkiness chimes against the richness.  You’ll find yourself looking forward to it by early November.

A Nice Slice of Rice

When I was a student I once spotted a beautiful and moody looking dark haired boy coming out of a lecture. I saw him around a couple of times but didn’t know anyone who knew him. My flatmate was doing a fast track Italian course as she’d be spending a year in Italy. So was he. I got her to invite him for dinner. I’m like that. He turned out to be called Patrick. He was cool. James Dean school of cool.

I can’t remember what I cooked as the main course, but it was Italian, and I do remember cooking rice like this because I knew he would never have seen it before. In return he introduced me to Marlboro Lights. It took years to get over him and even longer to get over the Marlboro Lights.

500g fresh or 300g frozen whole leaf spinach

250g Arborio rice

1 onion chopped

1 tbsp oil

25g butter

3 eggs

4 tbsp grated parmesan

Pepper

A decent pinch grated nutmeg

Wash the spinach and remove the stems and cook until it softens (Just defrost, if using frozen). Drain and chop fairly finely.

Boil the rice for 10 mins, until nearly done. I have a nagging doubt that I used ordinary rice – I’m not convinced Arborio was to be had in Hackney Wick in 1990. Anyway, Patrick didn’t notice and I would use the proper stuff now. Stir the spinach in with the boiling rice, briefly and then drain it.

Fry the onion in the oil until golden and mix it together with the rice and spinach in a bowl. Add the butter, cheese , eggs, pepper and nutmeg. Somehow I can’t imagine the parmesan was grated off a block (see above) but I would now. Mix well and press into a buttered cake tin. I have a feeling egg dripped out of the bottom of my cake tin until it started setting so lining the tin might be a plan.

Bake at 200 or gas 6 for about 25 mins. It should look golden. Turn it out and serve in wedges like a cake.

I really can’t remember what I served this with – something like an Osso Bucco I hope , though it definitely wasn’t that.

Patrick, like the cigarettes, wasn’t good for me. We fought all the time, he once poisoned me at his own dinner party. I loved him. He did sleep with me once. He slept with my flatmate much more than once. He was one of my best mistakes.

Mrs Todgers' Gravy for Commercial Gentlemen

I like to read Dickens at Christmas – this year I’m rediscovering the comic joys of Martin Chuzzlewit. So I’m reading on the train home and came across the following passage. Mrs Todgers runs a commercial boarding house in London and complains about the difficulties of catering for the gentlemen lodgers:

“Presiding over an establishment like this makes sad havoc with the features, my dear Miss Pecksniffs.” said Mrs Todgers. “The gravy alone is enough to add twenty years to one’s age, I do assure you…..The anxiety of that one item, my dears, keeps the mind continually on the stretch. There is no such passion in human nature as the passion for gravy among commercial gentlemen. It’s nothing to say a joint won’t yield - a whole animal wouldn’t yield – the amount of gravy they expect each day at dinner. And what I have undergone in consequence”, cried Mrs Todgers raising her eyes and shaking her head, “Nobody would believe!”

So gravy then, but something special for the season. The trouble with gravy is that the decent commercial brands are pretty good, and all too easy, so I have chosen something so special that I hope you will be tempted. This is from Hawksmoor, my all-time favourite restaurant.

50g chilled butter

4 banana shallots peeled & finely chopped

200ml Malmsey or other sweet Madeira

1 litre beef stock

1 tsp HP Sauce

50g bone marrow diced

Sea salt & black pepper

Heat half the butter in a small pan and add the shallot, cooking over a slow heat until soft. Add the Madeira, bring to the boil and simmer 5 minutes or until reduced by half.

In a medium sized saucepan bring the beef stock to the boil, add in the shallots and Madeira and keep simmering. Whisk in the remaining butter and HP sauce and add the bone marrow. Simmer for 2-3 minutes to cook the marrow and give the gravy a rich unctuous consistency. Season to taste.

They suggest serving in a gravy boat and I think it deserves that much!

Hawksmoor’s stock recipe includes 500g beef bones, 500g Oxtail, 500g beef shin and a pig’s trotter as well as the usual vegetables and herbs. Wonder if I can get a table before Christmas and celebrate the answer to all Mrs Todgers’ problems!

Balhamyte's Sweetcorn Fritters with 3 dressings

You need to have already made the chilli jam, or buy a jar. I like to serve it three ways so everyone can assemble to their own taste. This recipe is for my friend Toby, who was so nearly born American but lives in Balham, South London instead. #livingtobyslife

Corn Fritters

1 cup plain flour

½ tsp salt

3 medium eggs separated

1 cup milk (skimmed is helping no-one here)

2 cups sweetcorn kernels

Oil for frying

1 tsp each ground coriander & cumin

¼ tsp each Turmeric & Cayenne

Chilli Jam

500g ripe tomatoes

4 cloves Garlic

4 plump red chillies

A 3” piece of fresh ginger, peeled & sliced

300g golden caster sugar

100ml red wine vinegar 

Cilantro Raita

200g full fat yoghurt

A small bunch of Coriander chopped

¼ tsp Cayenne

Rock salt & black pepper

Lime Butter

100g butter at room temperature

Grated zest of a lime

1 ½ tbsp juice from the same lime (Grate it first, juice it after)

¼ tsp rock salt

½ tsp white pepper

1 tbsp chopped Coriander

½ garlic clove chopped

¼ tsp chilli flakes. 

Make your dips. Assume you did the Chilli jam ages ago. If you didn’t, I might have a jar left I can sell you. But in summary, blitz the tomatoes, chillies & ginger in a food processor. Add to a saucepan with the sugar and vinegar and cook for 40 minutes or so. When dark & sticky, jar it up. It improves with time.

Cilantro Raita – just mix it all together. I’ve called Coriander, ‘Cilantro’ as that’s what Toby would be calling it has fate worked in a different way. I grew up calling it Dhania which just goes to show how troublesome ingredients can be. By the way when I say small bunch, I’m not talking “meagre supermarket cellophane packet”. I’m talking small bunch!

Lime Butter – more for topping than dipping I guess. Beat the butter in a bowl until soft and creamy. Toby, beating means stirring kind of hard with a wooden spoon, not whacking it. Stir in everything else. Tip out onto a chopping board covered with cling film and then roll the film up to create a kind of sausage. Twist the ends and chill in the fridge (or in my cold kitchen, just leave it out on the surface!)

Finally the Fritters. It’s too late for fresh sweetcorn, so canned or frozen it must be. If canned, drain well and if frozen, defrost completely. As you’re compromising on the fresh stuff, go for a decent brand please!

Flour and spices go in a bowl and make a well in the centre. Add the egg yolks, oil and milk. An egg separator costs nothing, otherwise you end up playing 'to you, to me, to you, to me' with 2 egg shell halves, whilst drooling egg white on your shoes all the while. Whisk until smooth and rest for an hour. Catch up on Radio 4. Rest means the batter, not you from your exertions whisking, but feel free to rest anyway.

Stir in the corn. In yet another bowl beat the egg whites until soft peaks hold their shape when dangled from the whisk. Gently fold in to the batter. There’s no point getting all that air incorporated if you’re just going to knock it all out again. It’s a faff but making it this way should give you a texture similar to American pancakes.

Heat the oil until quite hot. This is important if you don’t want either greasy undercooked fritters or burnt bitter ones. Test with a little spot of batter. Once happy, drop in a few big soup spoons of batter, making sure you don’t over crowd the pan. Drain on kitchen paper and keep warm as you work your way through the batter. Serve with the 3 dressings and decide which you like best and therefore which to make most of for next time. Your boy may have a different favourite to you, so be open to this.

Serve with a tomato salad if you’re making a dinner of this. Give him a can of beer and don't make him use a glass. You've enough washing up with all those bowls.

Intriguing Hoisin Aubergines

My last day off, and I’ve been wandering around the covered market in Wood Green. Perfect for picking up some firm, squeaky aubergines and Pak Choi.  I also need a jar of Hoisin sauce from the Chinese grocer’s.

2 medium Aubergines (eggplants), cut in chunky pieces

3 tbsp oil (optimistic – aubergines usually just slurp it up)

2 chillies, finely chopped

1 garlic clove, chopped

2 spring onions chopped

2 tsp grated ginger

2 tbsp Hoisin sauce

3 tbsp chicken stock

Pinch sugar

Jasmine rice & Pak Choi to serve

I think Lowell would like this. There’s something about him that suggests he’d cope as a vegetarian.  Hoisin is thick and barbeque sauce-like; you don’t need that much of it so buy a small jar if you can. Lee Kum Kee is an established brand and widely available (and actually the only one I know). If you’re in the Chinese grocer’s, pick up some soy sauce for the Pak Choi as well. Kikkoman is actually Japanese, but it comes in a sexy bottle! (Sexy wins over authentic for me, every time).

I’m listening to The Yellow River Concerto though a Christmas CD would do. Have tried making this to a soundtrack of Beijing  Opera, but it just sounds too strange. Authenticity is good but not always great.

Wok out, oil in. Fry the aubergine on a fairly high heat, in batches, and drain on kitchen paper. You’re looking for cooked, but still firm. By the way I don't salt my aubergines to draw out bitterness as I've never tasted a bitter aubergine. And anyway life's too short.

Put the rice on – if you have one, love your rice cooker. If you don’t- ask for one for Christmas – you’ve no idea how much you’ll use it. When I was a student I watched my crush, Patrick cook rice for a good hour and then strain, to watch it all go straight through the sieve! They’re not expensive and turn out perfect rice every time. They keep it warm too. Wash the rice half-heartedly. You want a clumpy mass when it’s cooked.

If you’ve any oil left (which knowing aubergines, I doubt! Otherwise add another tbsp.), add the garlic, ginger, chillies and spring onions.

Stir in the stock, Hoisin and sugar. It will thicken in a few minute. When it does, add the aubergines back in. The stock doesn’t need to be great so feel free to do a pro rata thing with a cube. The flavour is going to come from the Hoisin.

Steam the Pak Choi or stir fry it, adding the soy sauce at the last minute.

Eat with chopsticks if you feel like showing off. This isn’t haute cuisine, so munching on the sofa in front of the TV is fine. All your virtue points come from the fresh vegetables so don’t feel you need to be too virtuous in your viewing. Happy dining, happy life!

Missing Lowell Pumpkin Soup

You’re missing him. It’s drizzly, dark and freezing outside. There’s only one thing for it – soup!

 1 medium onion

50g butter

A pumpkin weighing a little under a kilo

2 cloves garlic

1 tsp coriander seeds

2 tsp cumin seeds

2 small dried chillies

1 litre stock

A handful of smoked bacon lardons – 150g or so

100ml single cream

A frozen pizza (really!) 

Get the nightmare job out of the way first – peeling the pumpkin. This is seriously hard work. I have broken vegetable peelers this way, but the adage goes that the harder it is to get into, the sweeter the flesh. That said one of the best varieties is called Ironbark for a good reason. I tend to cut it into 4 or 6 wedges, get rid of the stringy bits and seeds, and then cut the skin from each slice with a big knife. When peeled, cut the pumpkin into cubes. It’s a doodle from here.

Cheer yourself up by putting some Glenn Gould on the CD player. As it’s coming up to Christmas, Bach would be cool. If you listen closely you can hear him humming along tunelessly so feel free to do the same.

Chop the onion and cook in the butter, until translucent. Add the garlic after 5 minutes. In goes the pumpkin and cook until it starts to go brown at the edges.

Toast the spices and dried chillies until the kitchen starts to smell distinctly Moorish. You could grind in a coffee grinder but soup making is an artisan task I think. Get out the pestle and mortar and start bashing.

Add to the vegetables and pour on the stock. Chicken or veg would be good – I’m assuming you don’t have home made to hand and recommend Marigold Swiss Bouillon, which is powdered or Knorr Stock Pots which are a concentrated gel. These are a very handy thing to keep in the cupboard – just ignore the awful Marco Pierre White adverts for them on the TV.

Cook until the pumpkin is nice and tender – half an hour probably.

Fry the bacon - the pan you used to toast the spices will probably impart a little more spiciness! Get them crispy and golden.

Blend the soup – I reckon a jug blender will get it smoother than a stick version. Season well and return to the pan to warm through. Add the cream and stir.

The pizza is to go with it – using a cookie cutter cut out circles of pizza, arrange on a baking tray and cook according to the directions. I think a plain pizza will work best – Margarita or perhaps ham & mushroom. Nothing too exciting please – this is only the supporting act.

When all is ready pour the soup into bowls and sprinkle with the crispy bacon. Serve the elegant, tiny pizzas on the side.

Lowelll's Most Epic Deli Railway Sandwiches

Lowell is heading back home to the Isle of Wight. He has a long train journey ahead of him so I’m making him these sandwiches. You have to plan ahead to do this and get into the supermarket the moment it opens. Ideally you want to make these while he’s still sleeping. The gorgeous Dan Stephens is on Radio 3’s Private Passions at 10.00 this morning. Lowell waking up thinking of private passions is no bad thing! 

1 cross cut batard or a Parisienne (A foot long flattish loaf basically)

1 yellow pepper

4 slices Mortadella

4 slices salami Milano

4 slices spicy salami ( the word Picante is a good sign)

4 slices Gouda , Emmental or Jarlsberg

Lettuce leaves

2 Tbsp grated parmesan

1 Tbsp red wine vinegar

½ tsp rock salt

50ml olive oil

½ clove garlic crushed

Tomato chutney if you have some 

This is the most epic sandwich, but don’t forget you’re leaving him with an impression. Think of him smiling and saying no thank you when the buffet trolley comes round. Just thinking of him smiling makes this worth it. That and knowing you’ve hidden a pair of his boxer shorts to remember him by.

Make friends with the nice folk at the Deli Counter at the supermarket as you only need a few slices of each meat. One mild, one fatty, one spicy. Plus some cheese that won’t take over.

The faff is roasting the pepper. It goes under the grill until the skin blisters. Turn it and carry on until it looks burned all over. Put in a plastic bag to let it steam for a few minutes. This will make it easy to rub the skin off. Who knew Dan Stephens' tastes included Allegri, Byrd, Mozart and Faure. You plan to tell Lowell about this but in the excitement, you completely forget. He's unbelievably adorable when he's just woken up. Luckily he's easily distracted by coffee and toast & Marmite.

When you've skinned the pepper, make the dressing. Mix the vinegar, parmesan garlic, oil & salt.

Halve your bread horizontally and drizzle the dressing generously on both sides.

Layer on the meat and cheese and top with the peppers, and finally a little tomato chutney if you have it.  I'd slice the bread into 3 sandwiches as he has a long journey ahead of him. Wrap really well with cling film. Give him loads of paper napkins as this can be messy if it unravels. A small box of breath mints will show him how much you think of him. He’s not a city boy so a piece of fruit will be usual for him. When you get to the station a bottle of water (I always go for Evian) and a magazine will be a real treat. You want him to come back! Wish him well. Cry as the train pulls away. It’s okay.

Curious Straight Boy Pasta with Vodka

Curious straight boy Lowell and I have been on the town all day. Hopefully he’s not too tired to still be curious! So a simple supper tonight that should still prove intriguing. Might as well expand his horizons to the max!

1 medium onion, chopped finely

1 garlic clove, minced

1 tbsp olive oil

1 can chopped tomatoes
1 tsp chilli flakes

1 - 2 tbsp double cream

As much penne pasta as two of you are hungry for

100ml vodka (or so)

1 tbsp butter

Parmesan for grating

Boil the water for the pasta in a large pan.  Puccini playing in the background is essential. You don't have to be really listening to it but it has to be there. Tosca would be ideal and if so, it has to be the 1953 Callas recording. It will give your cooking a lyrical fluidity.  In another pan heat the oil and soften the onion. Add a large pinch of salt. You’re not looking to brown it so cook very slowly for about 15 minutes. Add the garlic after 10 minutes. By now Tosca should have entered with her famous "Mario! Mario! Mario!" It's all about to get good. By now even Lowell is asking you what's going on in the opera. It's not his thing normally, but it sounds so dramatic and right now, he's wide open to new things.

Admire him in the new shirts he’s bought. He actually does look cute in most of them and a big part of why he’s with you at all is the attention he’s getting. If he thinks this is fun wait until he models the boxer shorts you got him! He’s from the Isle of Wight by the way so most things for him are very exciting. He will never even have imagined this dish could exist!

15 minutes must be up by now. Add the chopped tomatoes. By now you’ll know I like Cirio, though chopped tomatoes are less risky than whole (which are often canned under-ripe so they keep their shape). If you’re cooking lots of pasta (and cooking for boys you usually will be) , add an inch or two of water to the can, swirl around and add that to get all the juice from the can. Simmer 15 – 20 mins or until it approaches pasta sauce consistency.

Add a tablespoon of double cream and decide if it needs another one. Quite likely it won’t. Take it off the heat.

When the pasta is done, drain it and tip in a large bowl. Add the butter, chilli flakes and vodka and then fold in the tomato sauce. The vodka gives it a graininess that he won’t be able to put his finger on. Add the parmesan at the table.

I’m serving with a salad – for some reason, the colder it gets, the more I want raw fresh veg. Call it denial! I’m adding broken up ricotta cheese and pine nuts to salad leaves and dressing it with a Balsamic vinaigrette so it can stand up to a December evening. Dinner’s looking lovely – so is Lowell.

London Library Bacon & Avocado Sandwiches

I’m taking Lowell to the London Library tomorrow – he’s English public school geeky (sorry, Lowell) so he should like it. The library has a room on the 6th floor where members can eat their sandwiches and help themselves to coffee, so I’m making these sandwiches as a sort of breakfast/lunch fill in. 

4 rashers dry cure bacon

1 ripe avocado

Squeeze of lemon juice

2 ciabatta rolls

2 tbsp decent mayonnaise

2 lettuce leaves

Salt & pepper

 Grill the bacon until a little shy of crisp, I think. Dry cure should mean that it won’t leach water that ends up steaming the bacon. Have said all I’m going to say about avocados in the Guacamole recipe. Mash it and add the lemon juice to prevent it going brown.

Split the rolls and spread with mayonnaise. I have never made my own mayonnaise though I really want to. Will share the results here when I do!

So, yes, spoon the avocado on one half of each roll and top with the bacon and a lettuce leaf. Season to taste. Wrap well to ensure safe carriage. The London Library will probably kick me out if I return their copy of Martin Chuzzlewit with added avocado!

This will prove a treat when we’re tucking into them in St James Square. I want Lowell to think well of me and these are part of my arsenal. I think he’s going to wear his stripy sweatshirt, which he looks adorable in, though, sweetly, he doesn’t think he’s good looking at all.

Roasted Chicken with Lemon & Basil

I’m lucky enough to have a curious straight boy staying for the weekend. I met him flying back from Addis Ababa this Summer when he decided to end his holiday by going to sleep in my arms on the plane. He claimed this was just more comfortable. At 4.00 in the morning we did have his shirt unbuttoned looking for mosquito bites to put hydrocortisone on. 

Anyway he’s here and this is what we’re having tonight.

6 free range chicken pieces, skin on, bone in

Olive oil

2 cloves garlic

1 lemon

Basil 20 or 30 leaves

A glass of white wine

 Season the chicken and place in a roasting tin. Pour over enough olive oil to moisten and make a shallow pool in the tin. Obviously a huge tin won’t be much good here.

Squash the garlic, though don’t bother peeling it and tuck it in with the chicken. Squeeze the lemon over the chicken – if you do this through your fingers you can catch most of the pips. Chuck the lemon shells in the tin as well.

Roast at 200 or Gas 6 for half an hour. Then tear up the basil and scatter over the chicken and back in the oven it goes for another 10 minutes.

Pour in the wine and then put the tray on the hob so it bubbles fiercely for a few minutes and thickens.

I think it’s nice to plate the chicken up and pour the gravy into a jug, pushing the attractively burnt lemon shells into the jug as well. A green salad would work wonders.

Much as you’re enjoying seeing Lowell in his skater style boxers (an attractive green blue and pink check on a white background), persuade him to get dressed for supper. Have too much wine. Flirt. See where it takes you…

Dhal Soup with Rice

This delicious dish has been part of my whole life – we used to get it as a takeaway from Prouds Triangle in Suva when I was a teenager and it was one of the last things I had in Nairobi, at a dinner party held by the Jessani family. This is my best impression, so please get in touch if you have a better version than this. It’s the Jessani dinner party rendition.

500g Toor Dhal (oily kind)

7-10 fenugreek leaves

6 tomatoes, skinned and chopped

2 tsp cumin seeds

6 tsp grated ginger

4 tbsp jaggery or brown sugar if you can’t find it

3 tsp chopped red chillies

1 ½ tsp turmeric

2 tsp garam masala

4 tsp salt

Water – you’ll know how much you need.

Rice

Tempering spices - cumin,  dried chilli, mustard seeds

Coriander Leaves

Mango Pickle

By the way, the Jessani family had a particularly beautiful cousin called Jigu. We talked about football and BMWs. Both subjects I know nothing about.

Bring the lentils to the boil and then drain to get the oil off. The lentils are coated in castor oil to keep insects away. The first boiling will get rid of this. Bring back up to the boil, add the fenugreek and then simmer until soft and breaking up. A pressure cooker wouldn’t be a bad idea if you have one. I don’t at the moment.

In a frying pan heat the cumin seeds in some oil. Add the tomatoes, and once they’re sizzling add everything else except the lentils and garam masala and cook through for two minutes.

This will smell like the real thing so don’t be surprised if he comes sniffing around the kitchen. Add to the lentil pan and bring up to the boil. Don’t let it get too thick – it’s a soup so add more water if you need to. Add the garam masala just before it’s ready.

Blend and let it rest slightly. I blend with a stick blender and by resting you’re looking for a slight separation so the top centimetre looks clear and it’s cloudy/grainy beneath that.

Cook the rice – a rice cooker is one of the gadgets I couldn’t live without. Wash the rice three times first. This is a ritual that takes you back 400 years or more and again is something I couldn’t not do. The rice should be plain so that everything in the soup stands out.

In the same frying pan you did the cumin in add some tempering. If you love him, make this as special as you can. You can always talk him out of that football shirt later. A little oil, some mustard seeds, cumin seeds and dried chilli, flaked up. Sprinkle over the soup and then add some fresh coriander.

Serve the soup with a bowl of rice, taking a spoonful of each as you go. Some oily mango pickle wouldn’t hurt either. Your boy will be in heaven. Act a bit casual about this. Ruffle his hair.

Chicken & Capers with Linguine

Linguine is my favourite pasta – I don’t know why but nobody should have to justify their pasta preferences.

2 large skinless chicken breasts

3 tbsp olive oil

40g fresh breadcrumbs

25g capers

250g Linguine

1 x 142g tub crème fraiche

25g pine nuts

150ml chicken stock

½ tsp chopped rosemary 

The breadcrumbs will benefit from being made from stale bread – just grate it on the largest side of your grater. The capers – they either come dry with salt crystals sticking to them or in brine. The dry ones are much better but for some reason harder to find, unless you live next to a Waitrose. I don't, so I stock up when I do see them. They last for ages.

Get cracking. He’s hungry and it’s halfway through Midsomer Murders. He doesn’t realise he’s hungry yet as he’s winningly gripped by what’s on TV, but when the credits roll, he’ll get grumpy if he’s not fed soon. You’ll likely miss the ending but love doesn’t come without its sacrifices. Make a bit of noise in the kitchen so he knows you're on the case. 

Right – each chicken breast is cut into six and flattened slightly (bash with a rolling pin – easier done before you cut it into six now I think about it!) 

Fry the breadcrumbs and pine nuts until golden and set aside – these will provide an intriguing crunch to the creamy sauce. He will love this – it will appeal to him if he likes beer and crisps. 

Get the pasta on. Loads of salted water please. 

In the pan you did the crumbs in, pour the crème fraiche, capers, stock and rosemary. As it approaches the boil, add the chicken. Lower the heat and stir occasionally until the chicken is cooked. Unusually I try to avoid taste-checking the sauce as it is a little sour but when it’s coating the linguine it really isn't. Magically it mellows out.  

Pile the pasta on your plates, and add the chicken/sauce and generously sprinkle with the breadcrumbs/pinenuts. It’s strangely rich and tart and creamy and crunchy.  He will think you're a genius, though when he tells his mates about it tomorrow he won't really be able to describe it.

I first made this for a group of friends when we were all staying in a house in Southwold. One of our party had a habit of coming down in the morning in just a pair of loose cotton boxer shorts and sitting on the sofa with his legs apart. I had a habit of sitting on the floor in order to get the best view. Happy days!