Tuesday 28 February 2012

Easy Greens with Oricchiette


I’m shattered – 12 hours training today. Maybe the boy has prepared supper? Hahahahaha no chance! He’s practically putting himself up for adoption as a result of not being fed at a reasonable time. It’s late, I’m tired so this has to be very quick and easy.

We’ve got some early sprouting broccoli in the organic box, so that is our start.

250g Early sprouting purple broccoli
250g Orecchiette pasta
30g butter
2 cloves garlic, sliced thinly
250g crème fraiche
170g Gorgonzola cheese, crumbled

I think Orecchiette means ears. It’s a small disc-like pasta. I imagine that Farfalle would be okay too. There's a cute boy at my work that Toby and I call 'Ears' because his are so cute (you can have cute ears!). He also has amazing legs and has taken to walking around the office in shorts on his way back from the gym. Bliss. Anyway.

In separate pans, get water on the boil for the pasta and the broccoli. Trim the broccoli so any tough bits don’t end up in the dish (Includethe leaves though. Nyom). This is meant to be delicate and comforting, rather than challenging. It will be impossible for the boy to keep the bad mood up after a few spoonfuls of this. It’s rich, smooth and – to invent a word – blankety!

Salt the pasta water and drop the Orecchiette in. Put the broccoli in the other pan and give it 4 minutes so it’s not too soft. Drain the pan and add the butter and garlic, and when softened add the crème fraiche and cheese. Add a spoonful or two of the pasta water to add a silkiness and thin it out a bit. Cook for a few minutes.

Check the pasta is done and drain. Chop the broccoli up to the size that will fit on a spoon and then add to the creamy sauce. Tip the pasta in. Serve in a bowl with a spoon. It’s quick and simple, yet surprisingly good. It’s very soon clear that he’s forgiven you. Ideally I’d like him to have a salad with this, but it is late so he got away with it.

Monday 27 February 2012

Qorma e Zardak


I was really hoping that the number of flavours in this would distract him from thinking this was just carrot & split pea stew. It would be fun to tell him dinner is carrots and peas and see how much protesting he does. It’s from Afghanistan

2 medium onions, chopped
2 tbsp oil
3 garlic cloves, chopped
1 Scotch bonnet chilli
1 cm fresh ginger, finely chopped
1 tsp turmeric
½ tsp ea cumin & coriander
600g whole baby carrots, trimmed (Chantenay would be great)
300g yellow split peas
1 tbsp tomato puree
3 large tomatoes, chopped
Salt to taste
2 tsp vinegar
500ml veg stock

Fry the onions and when they soften, add the ginger, garlic and chilli. After a few minutes, add the spices, carrots and split peas. After a few more minutes, add the tomato paste and chopped tomatoes. Stir in and add the vinegar and stock and add the salt. Cook for 45 mins to 1 hour. A whole hour to spend with the young man. Treat him to a beer – watch TV with him, whatever he wants. Let it be his time.

Serve with flatbreads and the following salad:
½ cucumber
3 tomatoes
4 spring onions
Handful each coriander and mint (traditionally slightly more mint than coriander)
1 small onion
2 green chillies
Salt
Juice of 2 lemons

Chop everything up and squeeze over the lemon juice.

Not just carrots & split peas by a long shot. Generally the boy seems not to be put off vegetarian food so long as it’s interesting. He also has some theory about how fresh veg will improve his football. Watch him pick the chillies out of the salad though.

Sunday 26 February 2012

Pockmarked Mother Chen's Beancurd


A new Oriental supermarket has opened up in Wood Green so we stocked up on ngredients to make this. I’ve wanted to make it for ages, partly because of its name but motly because I love fiery Sichuan food. Lowell had never heard of it, but caught up in the moment insisted we make it.

500g firm bean curd (Tofu)
4 spring onions
100ml ground nut oil
150g minced pork
2 ½ tbsp. Sichuan chilli bean paste
1 tbsp black fermented beans
2 tsp crushed chillies
250ml stock, with a little ginger grated in
1 tsp sugar
2 tsp light soy sauce
Salt to taste
3 tsp cornflour slaked in water
½ tsp Sichuan pepper, ground

The dish gets its awesome name from the smallpox scarred face of its Qing dynasty creator. You can use less oil, but it won’t be the same. You could also skip the dried crushed chillies and just get the heat from the Sichuan peppercorns. Make sure you buy a Chinese brand and crush them yourself. I use Pearl River Bridge Band for the fermented black beans (Yang Jiang preserved beans with ginger) and Lee Kum Kee for the Chilli bean paste (Toban Djan).

Cube the beancurd and leave it to steep in a bowl of just boiled water with a little salt in it. Slice the spring onion on the diagonal – the Sichuanese call this cut “horse ears”. Lowell is dry roasting the Sichuan peppercorns and crushing them in a mortar. We're listening to a CD of Chinese pop hits. The cover is all in Chinese except it has 13+1+1 on it! 

Add the oil to the wok and get it very hot. Be watchful as this is a lot of very hot oil! Add the mince pork, and get it brown and on the way to crispy. Annoying that you can’t actually buy minced pork in 150g portions and it doesn’t seem right to ask a butcher for such a small amount. We’ll think of something else to do with the rest tomorrow.

Turn the heat down and add the chilli bean paste, until the oil takes on the red colour. Add the fermented beans and ground chillies and stir fry for another minute.

Carefully pour in the stock and add the drained beancurd. Mix it very gently so it doesn’t break up. Season with the sugar, salt and soy. Simmer for 5 mins.

Gently stir in the spring onions and add the cornflour to get the sauce thick enough to cling to the beancurd and meat. You might not need all of it.

Decant into a serving bowl and scatter the ground peppercorns on top. Serve with plenty of rice as this is spicy. Lowell is hopeless with chopsticks which is in my favour. If he drops anything on his shirt it will have to come off and go straight in the wash to avoid dying it permanently red.

Saturday 25 February 2012

Sake Steak with Cardamom Rice


Lowell’s up for the weekend, so we’re having something special, that won’t keep me in the kitchen on my own all night.

2 x 150g fillet steak
200g Basmati rice
2 cardamom pods
2 tbsp chopped coriander

Marinade
1 tsp English mustard
2 tbsp Worcestershire sauce
1 tbsp soy sauce
1 tbsp garlic oil

Sauce
70ml sake
1 tbsp soy sauce
1 tsp Worcestershire sauce
1 tsp English mustard

This is elegant but easy. A word on the ingredients. Get what you can, but I think Worcestershire sauce is Lea & Perrins, mustard is Colmans and soy sauce should be the dark kind. If you can’t get hold of sake, use sherry, as long as it’s good enough that you’d want to drink it on it’s own.

Combine the steaks and marinade ingredients in a freezer bag and marinate for a few hours in the fridge. We did this in the morning and then went out for the day. Gave it all a good massage when we got back and it was good to go.

Leave the steaks out to come up to room temperature. There’s no point in putting them in a hot pan if they’re freezing cold. Lowell & I are reading The Woman in White to each other and we have time to squeeze a whole new chapter in. It’s getting chilling. Who in that house do we trust?

If you don’t have a rice cooker, get one. The rice goes in. along with the cardamom pods (Bash them first). The rice will be perfect and hot, whenever the rest of the meal is ready.

Heat a griddle pan until screaming hot and give the steaks 2 minutes on each side. Wrap them up in foil and allow them to rest.

In your smallest saucepan, heat up the sake or sherry and evaporate the alcohol off. Add the other sauce ingredients. Unwrap the steaks and pour the juice into the sauce pan.

Slice the steak thinly on the diagonal and serve on a bed of cardamom-scented rice and pour the sauce over. Sprinkle the coriander on top.

We’re having this with a pinot noir that has a nose reminiscent of coffee beans. He’s starting to feel at home in my flat and I’m doing my best to encourage that. There are no left overs, which I’m taking as a good sign. Dessert has to be plain Madagascan vanilla ice cream and coffee. Elegant. Sincere.  Lowell.

Friday 24 February 2012

Ensaladilla Rusa


Essentially this is Spanish 'Russian Salad'. Very popular in Spain apparently. All Russian salads involve dicing up vegetables really small. I’m not going to attempt to persuade the boy that this is a meal in itself and have bought some smoked sausages, some salami and some cheeses. Chicory has turned up in the organic box – I never know what to do with it so have broken up into big leaves for scooping up the salad. I won’t put any spoons out so that he gets the hint.

150g petit pois
500g salad potatoes, peeled
½ red onion, chopped
1 tbsp red wine vinegar with a pinch of sugar added
2 tbsp flat leaf parsley, chopped
2 tbsp tarragon, chopped
150g decent mayonnaise
2 tbsp capers, ideally the ones in salt

Boil the petit pois and then scoop them out and set aside. Pop the potatoes in and cook for 15-20 mins, until tender. When cool enough to handle, dice them.

Chuck in a mixing bowl and add everything else and mix well. A drizzle of decent olive oil will help.

Serve on your prettiest plate surrounded with the chicory leaf scoops – face it there’s no way you’re getting him to eat them otherwise. There’s definitely something more Spanish than Russian about this, though they do seem two very unlikely cultures to be meeting. And it sounds nice – imagine telling him his dinner is going to be potatoes and peas in mayonnaise! But this is so much more than that

Wednesday 22 February 2012

Banjon Borani


I’ve been wanting to make this ever since I first had it in Islington’s hopelessly disorganised, but wonderful, Afghan Kitchen. The boy likes aubergines and yoghurt – what could go wrong?

3 decent sized aubergines
Oil for frying – hard to say how much you’ll need
1 large onion, chopped
4 green chillies, chopped
1 tsp turmeric
4 tomatoes, chopped
1 small bunch coriander

Yoghurt Sauce
450ml very thick yoghurt
2 tbsp lemon juice
6 garlic cloves, crushed
Handful chopped mint
Salt & pepper

I don’t hold with salting aubergines, but kitchen traditions are important so do this if it’s what you do. Otherwise just slice them about 7mm thick.

Fry the onions and chillies until the onions are soft and set aside. Now fry the aubergines. This is where it gets difficult to predict how often you will need to top up the oil. You need them lightly browned. Assuming you’re cooking in batches, add them all back to the pan and sprinkle with the turmeric. Add the tomatoes and coriander (though save back a little of each for garnish). Tip the onion and chilli back in and add a little water so that the aubergines are just about covered.

Turn the heat down and simmer for 30 mins. Make sure it doesn’t dry out.

The boy is home early so he’s peeling and crushing the garlic – taking ages doing it too. When he’s finally there get him to mix all the sauce ingredients well.

This dish is layered up – Spoon about a third of the yoghurt over a serving dish and then layer half the aubergines on top. Then another third of yoghurt on top and then the rest of the aubergines. The final yoghurt third tops it all. Sprinkle with the reserved tomatoes and coriander.

This would be good with rice but we’re having it with shop bought warm naan breads. I’m slightly surprised he likes this as much as he does – I had a feeling the hot aubergine/cold yoghurt would jar with him but maybe it’s because he made the yoghurt. I love catching up with his day over a shared meal and like to keep surprising him with things he hasn’t had before. He’s surprisingly receptive to meat free meals.

Tuesday 21 February 2012

Breton Galettes Complete


It’s pancake day in the UK and there’s no getting out of it – the boy wants pancakes, and so pancakes it must be. We’re not tossing them though as we remember what happened last year. This is a Breton recipe – we’re having ours with eggs, cheese and ham – known as a complete. This makes 6 but they do freeze. I’m assuming you’ll want 2 each. The boy may well manage 3.

112g buckwheat flour
112g plain flour
1 tsp salt
250ml milk
250ml water
60g butter
6 large organic free range eggs
6slices thin deli ham, chopped up
200g grated Swiss cheese

Sift the flours together with the salt. Make a well and pour in half the milk. Whisk to a smooth paste. Add the remaining milk in two batches, mixing really well each time to get it lump free. Normally I’d let it rest but he wants pancakes and so there is no time.

You need to heat a 30cm griddle pan or crepe pan – wipe it first with the butter and some kitchen paper. Test a drop of batter on the surface – it will set straight away if it’s hot enough. Ladle a small amount of batter into the centre of the pan and use a spatula or pallet knife to spread it thinly across the surface of the pan.

Now for the fun. Carefully break an egg into the middle of the crepe. Use the spatula to thin the white across the surface without breaking the yolk. Sprinkle some ham and cheese over the whole surface. As  the crepe sets and browns on the bottom, fold each edge over the egg white into the middle so it forms a square with just the yolk showing through the whole in the top. The egg white should be set and the yolk still soft.

Slide it off the pan with the spatula and on to the plate.

You can’t really make these to eat together as they cook one at a time, but that’s part of it. Wipe down the griddle and re-butter before starting again. My tip – for a quiet life make his 2nd one before starting yours – it will buy you breathing space.

Monday 20 February 2012

Olive & Parsley Salad


This is a side dish, intended to refresh between richer courses. Would be good as a meze dish too.

2 cups pitted black olives, coarsely chopped
2 cups, packed, flat-leaf parsley leaves
1 red onion, finely sliced
Juice of 4 lemons
2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
Sea salt & black pepper

This is very refreshing when served with a fatty meat like lamb. But good on its own too. The quality of the ingredients is key. I like to make this with wrinkly, oily Kalamata olives from Greece. Briny olives will just add too much acidity. The parsley will ideally be big and fresh enough to make you want to use it as a salad leaf.

The olive oil should be green and grassy. Combine all the ingredients and adjust the seasoning.

 The boy used the leftovers in a cheese sandwich with sourdough bread. He is probably really on to something. Wish he left enough for me to try this – it has to be good.

Sunday 19 February 2012

Chipotles en Adobo


This is definitely not for the young man. It’s all for me to hoard in cupboards and use at every opportunity. It’s wonderful for perking up Salsas, pasta sauces, dips – anything that would appreciate some smoky heat.

200g dried chipotles (approx. 60-70)
1 large white onion, roughly chopped
1 whole bulb of garlic, peeled and cloves roughly chopped
1 tbsp dried oregano
1 tbsp thyme leaves
1 tsp cumin seeds, crushed
4 tbsp olive oil
350ml white wine vinegar
50ml decent balsamic vinegar
3 tbsp tomato puree
7 tbsp brown sugar
2 tbsp sea salt

This recipe is from Thomasina Miers. She can always be trusted to deliver the goods and I plan to sample more of the menu in her Wahaca restaurants this year.

This is an epic cooking session so only Verdi will do. Il Trovatore would be perfect – ideally the Pavaroritti & Sutherland version, though I only have the highlights disc. It has to be the whole thing and so the Callas version it must be for me.

Chipotles are smoked Jalapenos. They come dried and this is a different way of preserving them in a kind of sauce. So far I find the best value mail order service is Chilli Pepper Pete (chillipepperpete.com) though my best mate is in Mexico this week and I have charged him with bringing me back a load. It will take ages to peel a whole head of garlic but this is an investment –and you do have the lovely opera to listen to. I often have the cookbook and the libretto open side by side in the kitchen.

So to cook. Il Trovatore, Act 1, scene 1. Begin. Wash the chipotles in cold water and then drain. Snip the stalk end off with scissors. Put them in a medium pan and cover with cold water. Bring up to the boil and simmer for 30 mins, or until the chillies are soft.

Put the raw onion, garlic, herbs and cumin into a blender. Fish out 6 of the chillies and add them along with 200ml water. Blitz until you have a smooth paste.

Heat the olive oil in a large pan, and when hot, fry the paste for about 3 minutes. Stir constantly so it doesn’t stick and burn. Add the vinegars, tomato puree, sugar, salt and another 100 ml water. Cook for another 5 mins and ad the rest of the chillies (drained).  Cook for a further 15 mins until nicely thickened. I usually snip randomly at the chillies with a pair of kitchen scissors so that you get some small as well as large pieces.

Pour into sterilised jars. This makes about a litre. It keeps for months in a dark cupboard so you can enjoy it in no end of dishes. Taste a tiny spoonful before you jar it up and imagine it calmed down a little after a month in a jar. Think of all the things it would be great with.

A final word of warning. You have been handling a lot of chillies. Wash your hands with plenty of soap, lots of times before there is any chance of touching the genitals. Yours, or more especially his! You don’t want to give him more reasons for you not to spend your Saturday making this.

Saturday 18 February 2012

Persian Gulf Prawn Curry


This is a not too hot curry – Persian, rather than Indian, though India is just across the Arabian sea from Iran. The boy loves all the flavours of this as it isn’t too hot. He goes a really cute pink colour and tuns rather damp if there is too much chilli. This is about right, and has a distinctly middle eastern flavour.

3 tbsp oil
2 onions, chopped
2 tbsp ginger, grated
3 cloves garlic, crushed
1 tsp Baharat (all will be revealed)
1 tsp chilli powder
2 tsp turmeric
1 cinnamon stick
Grated rind of 1 lime
1x 400g can tomatoes
¼ cup tamarind water
1 cup water
700g peeled king prawns

Basmati rice & lime wedges and coriander leaves to serve

Baharat is made up of 2 tsp each of black pepper & paprika. 2 tsp each of cumin & coriander seeds, toasted and ground. 1 tsp ground cinnamon, ½ tsp each ground cardamom, cloves and nutmeg. Combine.

It’s not as cold as it has been but a light, complex curry is just the thing.  Fry the onions slowly for 10 minute. You want to soften but not brown them. Add the ginger, spices, lime peel and garlic and give it another minute. 

Stir in the tomatoes- they don't have to be especially good ones, but break them up. Add the water and the tamarind water. Bring to the boil and simmer for 10 minutes.  It should reduce to  thick gravy.

He’s enjoying a compilation of radio comedies from the 1970’s. Turn the kitchen radio on to share them with him. Put the rice on in the rice cooker. Pop a few whole cardamom pods in to perfume the rice.

Add the prawns to the sauce. These are horribly expensive from the supermarket – find a local fishmonger or market stall. Cover the pan and simmer for 10 minutes. No more or the prawns will get tough.

Serve with the rice and a simple salad of tomato and cucumber slices.

As predicted, he really likes it. It’s lightly spicy, rather than searing-hot. He also likes dinner that comes in a bowl with just a fork. There are times for maximum chilli, but this isn’t one of them. It’s time for running your fingers through his incredibly coarse hair, and cooking things just the way he likes them, because you love him.

Friday 17 February 2012

Yoghurt & Pistachio Cake with Cardamom Cheesecake Sauce


I think I’ve won his heart forever with this one. It’s that rare thing, in my kitchen, a cake – but it’s so rich and dense and flavoured with the East that exists only in storybooks. If you have a food processor it’s not that hard.

200g ground pistachios
½ tsp ground cardamom
150g unsalted butter
225g self-raising flour
185g caster sugar
3 eggs
125ml thick Turkish yoghurt

Sauce
100g white chocolate
200g cream cheese
½ tsp rose water
1 tbsp icing sugar
¼ tsp ground cardamom

I keep recommending Turkish yoghurt – I promise I’m not Turkish – but it is the best in the world. If you can’t find ground pistachios, do it yourself in the food processor, though unsalted ones please!

This is a surprise for the boy. It’s been a long week for both of us and I want to treat him. He’ll have some tonight and a big piece with his coffee in the morning. It will be the best start to the weekend possible. Pre-heat the oven to 180/Gas 6. Put some smooth jazz on the CD player. I’m going for Cannonball Adderley.

Tip the ground pistachios, cardamom powder, butter, flour and sugar in the food processor and whizz until you get what looks like breadcrumbs. Appreciate being able to hear the jazz over the processor for a minute or two.

Pour into a big bowl and add the eggs (free range organic please – they’re not that expensive) and yoghurt. If you can’t get really thick Turkish or Greek yoghurt, get the thickest you can and strain as much water out as you can. Mix mix mix.

Pour into a cake tin (20cm) lined with baking paper. Should have told you to do this at the start. Bake for 1 hour, covering the cake with foil after 30 minutes to keep it nice and moist.

Cool on a rack, while you make the sauce. You could use this as a frosting but I think a big spoonful next to the cake will allow the boy to choose his own cake to frosting ratio.

Melt the white chocolate by putting the broken pieces in a heatproof bowl, over a pan of boiling water. When melted, allow it to cool (but not re-set). In another bowl, combine the cream cheese and the rose water, and then stir in the chocolate. Add the icing sugar and cardamom. Mix well until you have a fairly stiff frosting.

Serve him a big wedge with a generous dollop of frosting. He's practically purring.

Tuesday 14 February 2012

Turkish Salad


Even in mid-Winter I get to the point where I’ve had enough carbs and need something fresh and light.

12 cherry tomatoes, halved
½ cucumber, peeled
1 small  red onion, peeled
½ red pepper, halved and deseeded
½ green pepper, also halved and deseeded
2 heaped tbsp. each of roughly chopped coriander and parsley

Dressing
½ garlic clove crushed to a paste with salt
2 tbsp lemon juice
4 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
Salt & pepper

To Serve
200g Turkish yoghurt, thinned with 1 tbsp milk
Caramelised butter (I will explain)
1 tsp Turkish chilli flakes
Flatbreads

Check out his mood when he gets home. If he’s cheery this is nice to make together as it’s mostly chopping.  You could use a gadget but this is really not hard work and it’s a great way to unwind with the boy at the end of a long day. Even he seems to appreciate the odd break for something fresh to eat.

Start with the dressing – just whisk everything together and taste. I like my dressings quite tart but check with him and come to an agreement. The olive oil should be peppery and grassy – a real flavour in its own right and not just something to let the dressing down with. Serving it in a pretty jug will help, I think.

Chop all the vegetables up fairly finely and put in a bowl. One of the Mandolin settings would do this in minutes but it’s a labour of love and a time for you to be together. Add the herbs and the dressing and toss.

To make the caramelised butter, simply heat 75g unsalted butter in a small pan until the whey separates and turns golden brown, with a nutty flavour. Remove from the heat before it burns. Voila – caramelised butter!

Spread the salad out onto a serving plate and spoon the yoghurt over the centre. Drizzle the caramelised butter on the yoghurt and sprinkle with the Turkish chilli flakes. These are dark red and fairly mild (they’re dried and then rubbed with olive oil).

Warm the flat breads. It's a simple supper but the fact that he’s helped with it will go a long way towards his acceptance of it. We can go back to warming and filling foods tomorrow.

Sunday 12 February 2012

Malawi Mandazis



We’re holding a Street Food Market as a fundraiser for UNICEF. I’m doing Mandazis, which are a semi sweet doughnut flavoured with cardamom

300g pain flour
½ tsp yeast dissolved in 175ml warm water
½ tsp salt
50g sugar
2tsp oil
½ tsp crushed cardamom seeds

I’m weighing out the flour while Lowell is crushing the cardamom seeds with a pestle & mortar. If you only have cardamom pods you’ll need to break the seeds out first. We’re making this on the kitchen table and are listening to Nicholas Nickleby on the radio.

Mix the flour, sugar, salt and cardamom well, and then rub in the oil. It doesn’t seem to make much difference with this much flour but I suppose it’s there for a reason. Lowell thinks the cardamom is too over powering but we will see if it calms down in the cooking.

Pour in the yeast & water and knead until you get a smooth, bit not sticky dough. We had to add a bit more flour to ours – well Lowell did as my hands were stuck to the dough.  Divide into 4 balls and then roll each out into a 15cm circle. Divide each into 4 and then leave in a warm place for half an hour to rise.

When risen deep fry until golden all over.

When I was in Malawi last year I had these for breakfast every day, along with other things I don’t often get for breakfast like cucumber and avocado slices. I had several cups of local coffee and have never had a better start to the day.

I’m selling my Mandazis with Masala tea which is tea flavoured with cinnamon, cloves, cardamom and ginger. In Africa they would boil the tea leaves up with the water, milk, sugar and spices altogether. I'm not keen so I'm making it the usual way and adding a pinch of masala just before serving.

Saturday 11 February 2012

Manjula's Tamarind Chutney


I promised Lowell my favourite recipe for Tamarind Chutney. This is from Manjula’s Kitchen. Manjula is a YouTube star and I love her. Especially her way of referring to tablespoons as tabley-spoons. This chutney is amazing and by far the best of all the recipes I’ve road tested. I assume she lives in the US as the measurements are American.

½ pound seedless tamarind, in a compacted block
2 cups sugar
2 cups hot water
2 tsp cumin powder
2 tsp chilli powder
1 tsp black salt
1 tsp salt
½ tsp ground ginger (powder)
½ tsp black pepper

I’ve reduced the sugar by ½ a cup and increased the chilli powder by 1 tsp to reflect my own preferences but feel free to adjust it back. If you can’t find seedless tamarind, don’t worry- it all has to be sieved anyway. As I said in the last recipe, it’s called Imli in Indian grocers.  And the magic ingredient is black salt – it’s available from Asian stores so pick it up with the tamarind.  It’s actually a greyish pink and has a distinctive sulphur odour. It’s great to have in the cupboard if you cook a lot of Indian food and it really lifts this recipe to the sublime. I love this so much -especially with a very dry vegetable curry.

Break the tamarind up into a bowl and pour on the hot water. Leave to soak for half an hour. Pour it all through a sieve, mashing with a wooden spoon, so a thick paste goes through and just the seeds and tough fibre get left behind. Washing the sieve up is always fun.

Add half the sugar and taste. You may well not need all of it. Make a judgement how much more you use. The sweetness is meant to temper the sour but not dominate. Add the spices and mix well.

Adjust the sugar, chilli and sea salt to taste. When it cools completely, taste and adjust again. Keep in the fridge. Nyom!

Friday 10 February 2012

Gosht Chettinad


Friday night is curry night. This is a hot lamb dish, sour with tamarind, based on a house special  from Kensington’s Bombay Brasserie. It was restaurant to the stars in the 1980s. Guests included Bruce Springsteen, John McEnroe, Goldie Hawn, Ian Botham, Mick Jagger, David Bowie, Helena Bonham-Carter and the Prince of Wales. It’s had its heyday but I found their cookbook in a 2nd hand bookshop years ago. The eating is still good.

1tbsp vegetable oil
1 large onion, finely sliced
1 tsp turmeric
Salt to taste
900g boneless lamb, cubed
3 tbsp tamarind paste
Chopped coriander leaves to garnish.

For the Masala
50g desiccated coconut (or better ¼ of a fresh one grated but hey, it’s February)
8 black peppercorns
8 dried chillies
6 cloves garlic
1cm piece cinnamon stick
1 tbsp coriander seeds
1 tbsp poppy seeds
1 tsp cumin seeds
¼ tsp brown mustard seeds

This is a Southern Indian dish – fairly hot but it’s fine Moghul cooking. Lowell is up for the weekend. We have some Bhangra playing slightly louder than we should have. He’s making the Masala. Dry frying all the Masala ingredients except the garlic. Once we can smell them start to roast, he’s putting them into a coffee grinder to process to a fine powder. I keep a coffee grinder just for spices – they would all taste of coffee otherwise. Sometimes a pestle and mortar are good when a bit of rough is called for but that’s not what’s needed here.

Heat the oil in a flameproof casserole and fry off the onion. Crush the garlic and add that. When the onion starts to brown, stir in the turmeric, salt and the Masala mix. Add the lamb and fry, stirring often for about 20 minutes.

Once it’s browned and the juices are drying off, pour in just enough water to cover. Pop the lid on and simmer until the lamb is tender – half an hour or so. Add the salt and the tamarind and simmer for another 30 minutes – this time looking to reduce the sauce until it’s thick. If you like sour tastes, increase the tamarind. I like it but Lowell hasn’t heard of tamarind and isn’t sure.

Meanwhile get some plain Basmati rice going in the rice cooker.  It’s been cooking for an hour and we still haven’t stopped talking – we’ve only been apart for a week. It’s been a freezing week so this should warm us both up.

When ready to serve, sprinkle with the coriander and some sharp Indian pickle on the side. I love garlic pickle but you need a specialist Asian grocer for that. Lime pickle is also good and is available everywhere.

It turns out Lowell does like tamarind. I’m going to buy him a couple of blocks this weekend and show him how to make the best recipe for Tamarind chutney that I’ve come across so far. When hunting in Asian grocers, it’s Hindi name is Imli. It's an acquired taste but once hooked, there's no real substitute. I said it was curry night but actually it's Moghul Prince night. We're eating on the floor, on big cushions. We've changed the CD to a Ghazal recital. It's just about possible to forget it's February in North London.

London Bridge Hilton Salad


Not so much a recipe but a suggestion. My friend Toby and I work near the Hilton Hotel at London Bridge. They have a salad bar which offers either 6 toppings (plus leaves) or pasta with 5 toppings (plus leaves).

I think you have to have pasta to bulk it out and it is tricky to pick just 5 toppings as they have so many – roast duck, chorizo, chick peas, jalapenos, sausage, croutons, feta cheese, sundried tomatoes, capers, aubergines, grated carrot, courgettes, boiled eggs – it goes on.

A friend of ours once spent an afternoon calculating how many combinations of salad you could have, given your 6 choices. I can’t remember, but it would take us years to try every permutation. I have hit on my ideal combination – it still lies in the hands of the servers though as the exact ratio of ingredients you get varies every day:

Pasta – it’s always Penne, no choice there
Leaves – these are free – I go for spinach
Fresh tomatoes
Green olives
Beetroot (cooked and sliced)
Cucumber
Red onion

There’s a choice of dressing but Olive Oil & Balsamic it must be.

The beetroot is a substitute for roast duck as I’m trying not to mix protein & carbs during the day. It’s sweetness works well with the spinach and pasta. The tomatoes add freshness and the cucumber brings crunch. The olives and onion bring sharpness (I do have breath mints). And the balsamic dressing compliments the sweetness of the beetroot.

I could eat this every day (and sometimes do). They have a loyalty scheme in which every 9th salad is free. I’m probably getting far too many free lunches. Toby’s version has a double portion of broccoli when he’s feeling virtuous or both sausage and chicken when he isn’t

Other pros – we pass a branch of a coffee/sandwich shop on the way that used to employ a guy called David that I took a liking to. We only knew his name because of his name badge. We knew nothing about him but spun an elaborate fiction about his life. He eventually became a Romanian whose name was pronounced Daveed. My one interaction with him was buying a can of Coke – he sounded as if he came from Southend.  He doesn’t work there anymore.

The only drawback is that it’s really close to the office so we have a very short time for those “off the premises” conversations.

Wednesday 8 February 2012

Settlers Banana Bread


I actually don’t do that much baking, and not having much of a sweet tooth, Lowell  rarely gets dessert. He’s happy to help himself to a yoghurt from the fridge though. He doesn’t eat enough veg in my opinion though he does like fruit. He has a particularly disarming way of eating bananas that looks as if he’s going down on them. He’s oblivious to this and I don’t want to tell him in case he stops doing it.

3 large over-ripe bananas, mashed
125g butter
175g soft brown sugar
2 medium eggs, beaten
250g plain flour
1 tsp bicarbonate of soda
¾ tsp salt
3 tbsp plain yoghurt

This version of the recipe is from the Imperial African Cookery Book and it’s from Rhodesia (Zimbabwe). I’ve chosen it above a dozen other versions of this recipe purely for its African heritage. I’m not clear whether it originated there or was taken there by settlers. No matter. It’s delicious and Lowell loves it. I do owe him the odd sweet treat after subjecting him to all the veggies.

The bananas need to be more than just ripe – if the skins are covered in black spots and the banana is slightly softer than you might like to eat it, then it’s perfect for this.

Pre-heat the oven to 180. Cream the butter and sugar and add the eggs. Cream means mix until the two are combined into a creamy mass, without obvious lumps. I’m pointing this out as Lowell wants to help rather than be left out. Sieve the flour with the soda and salt into a separate bowl and add to the creamed butter & eggs, then add a spoonful of banana and yoghurt. Mix well and add another spoonful of flour, then more banana and yoghurt, and so on until all combined.

Turn into a greased loaf tin and bake for 1 hour. This would give you plenty of time to listen to Radio 4’s Afternoon Play – one of my favourites of 2011 was (appropriately) Comrades, Do You Like Banana, about a teenage boy in the last throes of Ceausescu’s Romania. A comedy in which his twin brother, dropped on his head on the icy hospital steps as a baby, is forever trying to kill him.

Check it’s cooked by inserting a skewer, which should come out dry. My oven is a little slow. When cooked, cool and enjoy with a strong pot of Yorkshire tea. Expect refills and second helpings.

Monday 6 February 2012

Pork Chops with Garlic & Chilli Dressing


The boy loves pork chops and he’s dropping hints that he’d quite like his cooked plain and not messed about with. Stand firm and promise he can have his chops plain from herein after if he doesn’t like this.

4 pork chops, as thick as you like
1 red chilli
2 garlic cloves
4 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
2 tbsp sherry vinegar
1 bag of herb salad (rocket, coriander etc)

As this is a Spanish dish, a recital disc from Victoria de Los Angeles goes on the CD player. This is a BBC archive recording that I got for 50p from a clear out sale at Holborn library. Very good it is too.

Grill the pork chops about 8 minutes each side, though this will depend upon thickness. Check that the juices run clear.

While this is going on, hum along to Victoria tunelessly. Don’t be surprised if he shuts the kitchen door on you – partly because of your singing and partly for messing with his beloved pork chops! Deseed the chilli and slice it finely. Chop the garlic. About 2 minutes before the chops are done, heat the oil in a frying pan and sauté the chilli and garlic until the garlic is just golden.

Add the vinegar and leap into the air as it spits vigorously at you. Give it a good stir.

Place a portion of the salad on each plate, with a pork chop on the side. Pour the hot dressing over the chop  and serve with chunks of rustic bread. I think thickly buttered but that’s up to you.

Watch him closely for signs of him scraping off the dressing. There’s a 95% chance he won’t be. Whether he tells you he likes it or not will depend on no end of things. If he’s quiet, it’s a sign that it’s good.

Sunday 5 February 2012

Sautéed Chicken Livers with Capers


A nice light meal for Winter. This is Spanish, and from the chef behind London’s Brindisa. It would make a great Tapa as part of a selection too.

3 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1 shallot finely chopped
2 garlic cloves finely chopped
400g free range chicken livers
Sea salt & freshly ground pepper
2 tbsp sherry vinegar
2 tbsp salted capers
5 sprigs flat leaf parsley, leaves stripped off & chopped
4 slices good bread
1 small onion very thinly sliced
4 mint sprigs – just the leaves, chopped

Don’t tell the boy he’s having chicken livers – he will only protest. Just present him with the finished article and he’ll be fine. Things on toast appeal to him. It’s really cold still, so this would be perfect for picking up with your hands in front of the TV.

Sautee the onion and garlic in the oil until soft but not coloured. Add the liver, season and fry for 4 minutes, stirring frequently. Pour in the vinegar and reduce for 3 minutes, by which time the vinegar smell should have gone. Stir in the capers and parsley.

Toast the bread and cut each slice in half. Top with the livers and place a few paper thin onion rings and a pinch of chopped mint on top of each one. Serving with a glass of Fino would be a nice touch.

New York’s Trattoria Dell’Arte is famous for its version which essentially skips the capers and replaces the sherry vinegar with ¼ cup aged Balsamic. I think the sharpness of the capers better matches the rich creamy livers, however.

Saturday 4 February 2012

Steak Burritos


This has a lot of ingredients but it’s the weekend and there’s time to spend on making it. The boy loves this, partly because it’s steak and partly because he likes the self assembly aspect and being able to put together a burrito exactly to his liking.

600g steak
3-4 tbsp olive oil
2 cloves garlic, crushed
Juice of half an orange
1 chilli, finely chopped
Salt & pepper

4 flour tortillas
4 spring onions
150g salsa
1 avocado, peeled and mashed with lime juice
4-6 tbp sour cream
Chopped coriander leaves

Ideally you’d also have 150g cooked, warm black bean and 200g warm rice. I imagine these would be the sort of leftover you would have to hand in a Mexican kitchen. I don’t, so I’m leaving them out. The steak should be a fairly thin cut and the salsa can be shop bought. If it is, I usually split it in half – the boy has it is as it is and I improve my half with some Cholula hot sauce or Chipotles en adobo. The tortillas should be flour, rather than corn, We look for the widest ones we can find because we're greedy!

Marinate the steak (whole) for half an hour in the oil, orange juice, garlic, chilli and salt & pepper.

Heat up a griddle or heavy pan, add a little more oil and get it hot. Top and tail the spring onions and cut into 3 cm lengths and cook. Add the steaks and sear for a couple of minutes each side. Let the steak  rest while the onions finish softening.

Slice the beef across the grain into thin strips and warm the tortillas in a dry frying pan. Add some beef and spring onion to each tortilla and pile on your own accompaniments. The boy likes mild salsa and sour cream. I like mine with avocado, coriander and improved salsa. You could add grated cheese. If he wants it he can grate it himself. You can also toast the folded burritos lightly, in a dry frying pan but we usually don’t. Once assembled, we can’t wait that long to eat them.

Wednesday 1 February 2012

Tagliatelle with Lemon Cream & an Unusual Garlic Bread


It’s freezing. I hate February. It’s time for warming carbohydrates and spending little time in my chilly kitchen.

Tagliatelle – ideally fresh, rather than dried – enough for two of you to have plenty
300ml double cream
120g butter
Zest and juice of 4 large, juicy lemons
6 tbsp roughly chopped flat leaf parsley
150g grated parmesan

This is easy and quick and ideal for when the boy needs feeding fast. This seems to be often in the Winter months. Annoying as he is when he’s tetchy, there’s something very lovable about him when he’s sated and in the mood to be generous in return.

In a large heavy pan, warm the cream and add the butter, lemon juice and zest. If you don’t have a Zester, drop hints – they’re brilliant. Until he takes the hint, use a fine grater. Zest first then juice. Squeezing the lemon into your hand with fingers close together should mean you catch most of the pips. When the butter is melted, turn off the heat.

Cook the Tagliatelle and drain. It should be 3-4 mins max if using fresh. Stir it into the cream (rather than the other way round). Add half the parsley and toss lightly. Serve in warm bowls with the other half of the parsley and the parmesan added.

As it is freezing I’d be tempted to go carb mad and serve this with an extra special garlic bread. The crunch will go nicely with the soft, creamy pasta.

100g softened butter
3 cloves garlic, crushed
1 supermarket packet coriander, chopped
1 red chilli finely chopped
1 Crosscut Batard or a Petit Parisienne (or any baguette styleFrench bread)

Heat the oven to 220/Gas 7 (Hot, basically). Beat the butter with the chilli, garlic and coriander. Cut slices into the bread without cutting through the bottom and put an even amount of the butter mixture between each slice. Smearing a little over the top of the loaf crust won’t hurt. Wrap in foil and bake for 20 mins. Open the foil to expose the top and give it a final 5 mins. The butter should be melted and the top should be golden and crisp.

The boy loves the filling double carbs – he’s not getting much in the way of veg in this meal but you will make it up in the week. He certainly won't be mentioning it! Bread and pasta doesn’t often work, but it is cold this week and the creamy/crunchy is about all the contrast you need. I’d go as far as a small bowl of large pickled Caper-Berries to nibble on as an acidic contrast but no further. I hate February.