Curiosity and the Cupcake

Union Roasted

2011-10-09T18:11:00.005+01:00

A little knowledge is a dangerous thing – the barista has been making my Americano incorrectly. Two weeks ago I wouldn't have known but now, it's driving me nuts and I'm too Canadian to say anything so I will passive aggressively blog this instead.

I recently spent a Saturday with a bunch of food bloggers at Union Roasted in E16 learning about coffee. Union ticks many of my boxes: it's a business run by two "plan B" guys, Jeremy and Steven, who were doing something else when they fell in love with coffee and decided to pursue it. They're hands on. Small batches. Know their suppliers. Passionate about educating the people who buy and make their coffee so that the last stages of its preparation bring out the best in it. They have their finger on the bean from farm to cup. This is dedication, obsession and the reason it's so damn good.

My group spent the first part of the day in the Roastery roasting a batch of beans and asking Jeremy and Steven random questions. It takes about 15 minutes to roast a batch of beans. It's 15 focused minutes as the roaster checks the beans every few minutes to see the progression, watching the colour change and hearing the sound of the beans shift as they get closer to being done. They roast every batch of beans like this. In comparison, big corporations roast their beans super quickly over a gas flame, a process called Fluidized Bed Roasting that can take as little as 30 seconds.

Next we went into their tasting room and we went through the process that they take when evaluating coffees. I've heard of cupping before but didn't really know what it meant (and secretly snickered when I read it because it does sound a bit naughty). The process of smelling the grounds, pouring the water and brewing it then smelling again, breaking the crust and then preparing it to taste by the aerated spoonful are far more involved than the pouring and swirling you do with wine tasting.

After a quick lunch, we were on to the machines to learn the technique for pulling a proper espresso and stretching the milk. I don't have a machine at home so I won't be able to use my new found skills but I'll be able to judge the people who are making my coffee. ;) The girls who were teaching us could tell from a moment's sound what had gone wrong – dry milk or an improperly tampered down espresso.

One of the most interesting discussions of the day turned around what to do when presented with a crappy cup of coffee. Many of us said we don't drink coffee in restaurants because we expect it to be bad. When we get a crappy latté at a cafe, we sigh and drink it anyways but remember not to go back there again. We don't demand the same level of quality from our coffee as we do from our wine, or our food. If a restaurant has a sommelier why don't they have an expert barista on staff as well? Why isn't your coffee at the end of a meal as well thought out and presented as your main course?

As coffee gets more expensive I think (I hope) that people will start to demand more attention to their coffee. If I'm paying £5 for a flat white (and it's coming people, don't kid yourself), I want it to be made with the best beans and the best skills. I won't have someone ruin my Americano by scalding my espresso with boiling water. So why am I putting up with it when I am paying £2? No more. I will not have beans that have been lovingly farmed and roasted ruined by someone who simply doesn't know any better.

I left the day with bags of gorgeous coffee. I sent some to C's office (they are coffee fiends) and happily drank the rest at home. My favourite, from cupping and drinking at home, was Los Anonos from Costa Rica grown under a canopy of avocados. If you order using the code curiosity10 you'll get 10% off.

I love the Union Roast approach. I follow them on twitter and they tweet their travels to visit coffee producers. Their blog talks about the job and the trip and the joys and sorrows and the people who grow their beans. Like I sadi, this is a food product that ticks all my boxes – delicious, responsible, passionate.

Why local is the answer

2011-08-10T19:30:00.000+01:00

I have a slight crush on Patrick Holden, former Director of the Soil Association. I saw him speak a few years ago and whenever I read anything he's written or watch a video of him I find myself nodding along with him.

I like that he presents the issues around food security but doesn't have all the answers and humbly recognises that it is a work in progress.

Green Smoothies

2011-08-08T13:58:00.002+01:00

On twitter I follow mostly food people - bloggers, suppliers, restaurants - and one thing that pops up occasionally and that I wonder about, is how does everyone EAT like this all the time (and drink, seriously, some of you have me worried) and stay healthy? The booze effects aside I am certain that many of us are carrying a few extra pounds/kilos/stones that we would easily shed if we didn't dream of truffle egg toast, the latest gelato or extravagant multi course meals. But we do. This is pleasure and we are fortunate to get to indulge ourselves. So lucky.

Whenever I see a tweet about over indulgence and excess food pounds, I think to myself: "green smoothy".

Around the same time of the debate on the toxicity of sugar I was thinking about an upcoming beach holiday. I had never been on a holiday where the primary activities were beach bumming and pool side relaxing so I was anxious about putting on a swimsuit (let alone a two piece - terrifying!) and wanted something to help me tighten up. The basic gist of the toxic sugar debate (or at least what I took from it) is that natural sugars are fine as long as you balance them with their natural fibres - so the sugar in an apple is balanced by the fibre of the apple. If you up your fibre level you are less likely to crave sugar and less likely to snack or binge eat. This may be completely false. But this is what I took from it and right around this time I stumbled across a recipe idea for green smoothies to start your day and to help your body with cravings. Excellent. The two ideas complimented each other perfectly and I started drinking a green smoothy every morning.

In a blender:

a banana
a massive handful of spinach
a nice sized handful of frozen fruit (mango is my favourite)
a cup of water (or so)

Blend. Drink.

This totally changed the way I ate during the day. I had this massive influx of veggie fibre goodness first thing in the morning and I didn't crave anything (I was full) and I ate a small lunch, followed by a regular meal. I think it helps cure hangovers. It makes me feel hydrated. None of these assertions are based on anything but my own experience, but that is enough for me!

So, lovely food bloggers and others who find that their hobby has literally grown on them – green smoothies, five days a week for a month, see if you notice a difference and then report back to me. I mean, clearly the answer was never to cut back on going out and eating deliciousness, the answer must be to make room for the awesome by shifting other food.

Bread - Making vs Buying

2011-05-27T11:15:00.002+01:00

I made bread last night. Just two small round loaves of wholewheat. Finishing up some bits of flour. I'm really pleased with them. Good crust. Nice crumb. I ate three pieces fresh out of the oven with super yellow salted butter.

And I got to thinking about the value of making bread at home.

1. It isn't always better than what you can buy. It's special, because it's homemade but Eau a la Bouche has better bread. But Tesco (or any big store that is producing hundreds of loaves) isn't going to be as good. So homemade wins against mass produced, but not fancy artisanal.

2. Ingredients: Flour. Flour is cheap. But what about quality flour? What's the difference between grocery store brand flour and the Shipton Mills I have my eye on? The Shipton Mills is twice the price of the grocery store. Will it make that much better a loaf? What kind/quality of flour do commercially produced loaves use? Is that one of the factors in E5 Bakehouse vs Gregg's?

I feel a challenge coming on. Will buy my Shipton Mills basket (currently at ten kilos of flour), make bread and report back. And maybe ask the nice bakery people in the market if they know anything about the flour their products are made from... requires further investigation.

3. Ingredients: Extras. My bread is flour, yeast, salt and water. There is a brilliant double page spread in Richard Bertinet's book Dough - one side is a loaf of homemade bread and the ingredient list. The other side is the store bought bread and ingredient list. Four ingredients versus a long list. No question. Make your own damn bread.

4. Time investment: Not that much really. I mean sure you need to do it but seriously - making the dough takes maybe 20 minutes? Then it's mostly leave it alone until it's ready to be shaped and baked. Hell you can even do the no-knead thing. Total active time investment is probably less than walking to your nearest bakery. Unless you're super lucky. In which case can I come stay with you?

5. Love. Well, there is that.

My Grandma on the Mountain could bake anything but she didn't bake bread. The story is that she made a loaf once and my Grandpa and Great Uncle Malc took it out in the backyard and played football with it. She never repeated the experiment.

The recipe for buns that my mom makes for holiday meals is from her Aunt Jessie who was a fabulous cook. I crave her apple pudding recipe often.

Baking bread at home is special. Maybe not for everyday, but always preferable over big store bread. And it fills the house with warmth and love.

Farmers

2011-05-26T19:16:00.003+01:00

The asparagus season will be coming to a close soonish. I know because I asked the man who I buy it from every Sunday how much was left and how much longer I could expect it. I'm starting to get tired of it (it's only in season a few weeks! You have to eat as much of it as you can!) but I don't want to miss the last bunch of this year because I'm getting bored and decide not to get any one week. Farmer man said that there isn't much left - another week or two - but he's keeping a few bunches aside for me in case I get to the market late.

He also grows cut flowers. Two weeks ago, while C was away, he had the first Sweet Williams. I must have looked sad or something because he gave me a bunch with my asparagus and strawberries. They are still on the table, beautifully scented and holding their colour - he said they sometimes last three weeks. There should be astors soon.

He's just one of a handful of farmers that I have got to know at the markets in the past couple of years. (See I know I'm Lucky) I like that my shopping habits supports them and allows them to continue to bring me excellent products. Virtuous circle.

But you can't get everything from the farmer's market. For some items there is no season in England. So while I don't ever buy asparagus from Peru, I do buy mango, rice, garlic, etc etc from the corner store and the local Tesco. And so I think about the farmers I support by purchasing mangoes. Or frozen peas. If everyone stops buying mangoes what will the mango farmers eat? (Besides mangoes.) How does buying my ingredients from farmer A in England affect farmer B in Pakistan (where my basmati rice comes from)?

No answers, just the pieces of a conversation I am having in my head and that I would welcome people's thoughts on.

Cauliflower

2011-05-24T13:15:00.001+01:00

I think it is my second favourite vegetable. Seriously. Second only to peas (both frozen and fresh). Garlic, onions and tomatoes don't quite count. Certain vegetables are only excellent during their peak season and don't have an all year presence, like asparagus, so I'm not counting those either. So yes. Cauliflower is my second favourite vegetable.

How fabulously versatile is it? How many wonderful things can you do with a brassica that is, to be honest, a little dull. It's not something I sneak into the kitchen to nibble on (peas in pods don't last a day in our kitchen and cherry tomatoes are so very poppable) because on its own it is a bit bland. But the flavours it works with! And the processes and things you can do that turn it into magic. Here's to the mighty cauliflower!

The reason I am excited about cauliflowers is because I finally got around to making this sephardic dish of battered and fried caulflower in a lemony tomato sauce. I've had the recipe in my 'Make Me' pile for ages but it seemed like it might be a bit finnicky. It wasn't. You should make it.

You quickly blanch your cauliflower florets then drain them and mix them into a simple batter (half a cup of flour with some salt and pepper, tossed, then two eggs beaten with a bit of water, toss the floured cauliflower with that, then another half cup of flour - get in with yout hands!) then fry them up to golden and lovely. (I also dropped little blobs of batter into the oil.) You slip the crispy golden florets into a very simple tomato sauce with lemon zest and a squeeze of juice and let it barely simmer for ten minutes then eat it covered with parsley.

(Here's a link to the recipe proper on Michael's Herbivoracious blog.)

How good is that?

C declared it was his second favourite way to eat cauliflower. His favourite? Roasted and dipped in spicy ketchup. Yup, we're fancy.

New Restaurants

2011-05-22T17:17:00.000+01:00

There is a new Turkish restaurant going in on Broadway Market, where the old Efes was for about a year. It looks pretty. I popped my head in the other day to sneak a peak. The guy told me that it'll be open in a week or so, Turkish/Mediterranean menu.

Cool. Will try it out.

Why don't restaurants have little promotional cards for the curious who stop by to peak in and see what's what? Give me a card that gives me a free drink or a dessert or 10% off in the first week. Something. Whatever. But make me feel special and make me excited about your restaurant opening up.

Asparagus

2011-05-11T15:12:00.000+01:00

A thing of beauty is a joy forever.

Who said that? Some of the most beautiful things are fleeting and need to be pounced on while they are in front you for they disappear so quickly.

Asparagus is one of those joys. British asparagus appears to be a Thing. It is special and celebrated. It has a specific season of about 6-8 weeks and during this time everyone seems to be talking and eating it. I love it. I love the limited time only cache of it and the urgency. If you don't get some now you won't get any at all.

Yes I know you can get asparagus year round. But that's not the point, is it? This is English asparagus, grown as it is meant to be grown in the season in which nature intended. Did you know that most out of season asparagus comes from Peru where they are draining the water level to grow it (asparagus needs lots of water) - read this article about it. That's serious stuff. And it can't possibly taste as fresh and grassy and special as the stuff that's grown in your metaphoric backyard. And who wants to eat bland wooden stalks that make you pee funny the rest of the year? Seasonality people. Look it up.

We've been doing all sorts of things with asparagus. Because I buy an awful lot of it while I can. Roasted asparagus (olive oil, lemon, salt and pepper in the hot oven for 11 minutes) is a picnic staple for us - sometimes wrapped in ham, sometimes plain, once with romesco sauce. I eat it blanched and dripping in fancy salted butter for lunch. Grilled with grilled courgette and roasted tomatoes and basil oil a la Ottolenghi. Baked into a puff pastry tart. Munched on raw and crunchy like a carrot.

Tonight we're having it with polenta and cheese a la Guardian Ottolenghi. I figure there's a month left of experimenting and tasting. At the end of it I won't want to look at an asparagus spear. Which is fine and good because I won't be getting any until the official launch of the season in April 2012.

Wild Garlic

2011-04-29T23:41:00.000+01:00

Since moving here I have discovered all sorts of lovely seasonal specialities. Things that exist in Toronto but weren't as available or as obvious to someone who wasn't actively looking for them. Maybe part of the reason my cooking spidey senses have learnt so much in London is because so many of the cookbooks I read were, and are, British. I felt like I knew Borough Market before I ever set foot there and the Ginger Pig was like discovering an old haunt - I knew them. But I have never had that same relationship with Canadian food writers - there's very few that I can even name. Maybe it is that old thing with you are never satisfied with what is around you - grass is always greener. Or that Canadian food as such never really inspired me because there wasn't much distinctive about it. Who knows. My last trip to Toronto was delicious - so many great restaurants and dishes. I think maybe it isn't just Toronto that has expanded and grown - maybe I have too so that I am looking and seeking out those experiences. Also helps that I have a bigger budget than when I lived there. Little things. You know.

Anyways the point is that I had never had wild garlic (or ramps as I think some people call it though I am confused between ramps and the wild leeks that appear in the spring...) before moving to London and it has become one of those sure signs of spring to see the deep green leaves with white flowers in bunches in the market.

Bluebells!

Another sure sign of spring is bluebells. Fields of bluebells in the forests of England, and what grows hand in hand with bluebells? Garlic! Fields of pungent white garlic flowers next to lovely bluebells. So beautiful. So smelly. But in a nice way. And so delicious.

I was gifted with an obscene about of garlic leaves. They don't last long once plucked so I needed to do something with them fast. So I made wild garlic pesto - four gleaming emerald jars of the stuff which we ate over fresh pasta - plain the first time and then beet (a lovely pretty pink colour with just a hint of beetiness to it) the second.

Wild Garlic Pesto

100g wild garlic

50g pinenuts

50g parmesan
1 shallot
1/2 tsp salt
Pinch of sugar
About 200ml olive oil

Process until as smoothy or as chunky as you fancy in the food processor and taste for seasoning. Pack in old jam jars and push down to get any air out. Gently pour a thin layer of olive on top and pop in the fridge. Covered like this it should last 2-3 weeks. But I have never had it last longer than a week or so, because we have eaten it.

Divine. Special. But also enough that I am done for a bit and will be just fine waiting until next year's crop. Except for the wild garlic butter in the freezer - I mean clearly that is going to be eaten on steaks. But after that we're done. For real this time.

The Black Hoof

2011-04-27T15:54:00.005+01:00

You should go to Toronto and eat at The Black Hoof. Unless you're a vegetarian. If so skip to the next post.

C was off at a bachelor party, Susie was in London, so Nathan (from Back off Ladies, He's Taken) and I shared a an epic set of moments over a fabulous meal. Each dish. Each mouthful was transcendent. I'd tell you what we ate but it doesn't matter because the menu will have changed by the time you get there. Trust them. Eat everything. Let them pick your wine. Let them bring you a cocktail. Put your appetite in their capable hands and enjoy something special.

"Everything is made: from the charcuterie to the cocktail garnishes. Things are foraged when possible. It’s a meat and off-cut centric menu to be sure, but there is always a fish option. There is much attention to detail in the service. The atmosphere is boisterous and casual."

So much love.

Crumpets for Elevenses

2011-04-15T12:35:00.001+01:00

Crumpets.

I have become obsessed with crumpets. Specifically crumpets with butter and red berry jam (strawberry or raspberry) at Climpson's alongside my flat white. These are best eaten for elevenses with either a book or a small pad of paper for jotting down random thoughts while watching the people and characters of Broadway Market go by.

Seriously though - I have started waking up thinking about my mid morning snack. In Toronto I missed them and thought about them - even went to the amazing kitchen store by the Toronto Reference Library to buy crumpet rings so I could make my own. (They were out but expected a shipment later that day.) When we got back from Toronto the first thing I did on Tuesday was to go to Climpsons. They were out of crumpets. My face must have been so crestfallen and heartbroken because when I went in today the guy brightened up and told me with a smile that they had crumpets today.

Vintage Style Crumpet

I think it's the texture mix that delights me - the crunchy outside, warm from the toaster and the soft inside with holes running with butter and jam. (You need to put butter on a crumpet. Butter, then jam. I feel very strongly about this, even though I don't do the same for toast or bagels or muffins.) When I bite into a crumpet I feel satisfied and full in the way that only satisfying a deep craving can make you feel. Just a simple crumpet. Go figure.

She's So Lucky

2011-03-23T10:56:00.000Z

I know I'm lucky. I live in a big city in a wonderful area with bakeries, delis, butchers, fishmongers, a coffee roaster, boutique wine. On Saturdays one of the best markets in all of London opens its arms at the top of my street. On Sundays a small but solid farmers market appears. There is a famous flower market around the corner.

If I can't find something in my neighborhood I have only to head out into this giant city and if I look hard enough I will find it. London has everything, if you know where to look. London also keeps secrets, which makes the looking a bit more adventurous sometimes.

At the end of the day, I am SO lucky to be able to eat the food I do. To have the variety and choice, not just in terms of product, but producer and quality and ethos. There are few places on the planet that have what I have. I'm not writing this to sound haughty, I'm just writing this so that I know that I have explained to my two readers that I am aware of the privileged circumstances under which I write.

Ham Hock & Beans

2011-02-19T15:33:00.000Z

A few weeks ago I met G at Milk Bar on a sunny Sunday morning for breakfast. We both had their home baked beans with sourdough toast and goat cheese. It was awesome. So enjoyable in fact that it has been simmering at the back of my brain since then and I decided I would try to make my own version.

Which brings me to my newest favourite thing: smoked ham hocks. I was at the Ginger Pig picking up bits and pieces for a week of dinners and saw these massive smoked hunks of meat. I was pretty sure you had to boil them and that if you boiled them with the beans then all sorts of goodness would happen in the pot. I was right.

We ate the beans with pagnotta bread from Eau a la Bouche which is I think my favourite type of bread and very plain goat cheese. Simple, relatively easy (especially for future as the beans made a mountain and I put two meals worth in the freezer) and homey - one of those comfort meals that feel like an internal hug.

Beans & Ham

A smoked ham hock

Enough water to cover

An onion, split into quarters

Two carrots, cut into quarters

Bring to a simmer and let bubble happily and covered for an hour.

300 g cannellini beans, soaked over night

After an hour, add the beans to the ham hock soup. Simmer for an hour or until beans are tender.

At this point I took the ham hock out and let it cool so that I could chop it up and put all the meaty bits aside for the finished product.

Meanwhile I chopped two red onions, two cloves of garlic and a sprig of rosemary, two glugs of olive oil and let them all sizzle and sing together for about ten minutes. Just before they started to colour I added three tablespoons of brown sugar and two of cider vinegar, stirred and then added a 400g can of chopped tomatoes. Stirred, let it all start to get to know each other and then spooned the beans into the pan, making sure to save the ham/bean cooking water.

I let it simmer and bubble until it looked like it had all come together, about 10 minutes, tasted, adjusted a bit of salt and pepper, added the ham hock meat pieces and tada - homemade baked beans. That weren't baked at all.

And now I have the most luxurious ham water with which to make pea soup. Stay tuned....

Some Light Reading

2011-02-17T15:59:00.000Z

A few articles and bits that have caught my attention of late and that I think are worth passing on...

My Beef isn't with Beef On why being a vegetarian won't fix the meat problem
Cooking with Dexter: Chicken Nugget Blues I love this column but this one in particular made me laugh - especially the three year old exclaiming “Yucky food from a factory!”
Poverty Matters: How can we feed the world and still save the planet? Interesting look at role of investment and market failure. We really need a much better understanding of this. By we I mean all of us. Not just the people playing with the markets.

Tet

2011-02-16T14:36:00.001Z

After taking inspiration from my Vietnamese cooking class a few weeks earlier I decided that we would celebrate Tet - Vietnamese New Years. We did. On February 5. I shopped on Friday. I cooked all day on Saturday.

Menu
Basil Seed drink
Summer rolls with fabulous shrimp from Vicky at Broadway Market
Bo La Lot
Bánh chưng (traditional Vietnamese new year's cake)
Longdans with Lotus Nuts, Jelly & Seaweed

You will notice that it pretty much mirrored what I learnt from Uyen back in January, with the exception of the cake, which I bought and, following Uyen's instructions, shallow fried.

This was probably the most out of depth meal I have ever made. Five dishes (including the funny but not entirely well liked basil seed drink that I went everywhere trying to find!) and I wasn't confident that any of them would turn out. Summer rolls were delicious - and basically foolproof as the flavours are what you make them and we had excellent shrimp and a ton of exotic herbs. Bo La Lot to Uyen's recipe were moreish and were probably the night's highlight. The banh chung was... odd... If you read this you probably know I can be a bit, um, fussy we'll say about meat, so the ingredients list that said simply 'meat' wasn't really making me feel very comfortable and, even with frying it was still a very particular texture. The longdan dessert was unique and not very desserty. Which of course made it more interesting.

But. To the point. Everyone tried everything and the evening was an interesting success. It made me realise how specific my own celebratory ways are and that my expectations of what makes something special are very particular. I'm looking forward to expanding my perception of celebration...

Shot

2011-02-16T13:52:00.001Z

I love that getting shot in your game is a Thing. Considered acceptable. Maybe even a bit cool and desired. Because then it is the Real Thing. And that adds a certain air to the meal, doesn't it?

I mean, as long as you don't break a tooth.

Year of the Rabbit - Lapin Aux Olives

2011-02-06T22:54:00.000Z

Happy Chinese New Year! It is the year of the rabbit! I'm not sure what this means for the world but I am hoping it will mean a year of delicious eating for me.

As it was a Thursday night I wanted to keep celebrations low key so instead of doing a blow out feast (that was Saturday when we celebrated Tet - details to come!) I made Anthony Bourdain's rabbit recipe in Les Halles - Lapin Aux Olives.

A bit of a process but straightforward enough and low stress, C & I sat down to a lovely proper feeling dinner of simple boiled and buttered potatoes, Vichy carrots (which always remind me of the Nazi friendly government) and the rabbit. Not very authentic but delicious nonetheless.

What do people eat to celebrate the year of the Dragon?

Soup

2011-02-01T22:15:00.000Z

I saw a recipe this morning for leek soup with dill oil on 101 Cookbooks. I was reading through my Google Reader Feed. I removed my RSS feeds from Safari and put them in Google Reader and now I don't feel a constant state of panic as the numbers keep getting bigger and I don't have time to read everything. Yes, I like my inbox to be cleared as well.

Anyways. Heidi writes " report back if you take it in a slightly different direction you end up happy with." I didn't intend to change what she had done - it looked delicious! - so I went a head and made the dill oil. (Blender, dill, oil. Done.) Then I cleaned the leeks and dropped them into the food processor. And then I went to peel the potato. But I couldn't find them. I still can't. No idea where the potatoes are. Clearly I was going to be taking the soup in a different direction.

I added a small handful of leftover parsley that was sitting in a glass on the counter. I added two cloves of garlic. I pulsed the vegetables in the food processor (as per the instructions) and put some dill oil and butter in my big pot and threw everything in to cook.

At this point I remembered another 101 Cookbooks recipe, checked that out and decided to use the two tins of black eyed peas in the cupboard. (C bought them one day when I sent him out to get black beans. Why are canned black beans so difficult to come by here? And what made him think that the two were the same?) So, threw the beans in. Left everything to cook and stick to the pot in places. Then I added chicken stock, salt, pepper and a bit of cider vinegar. Tada. Soup. Delicious soup that is nothing like what I thought I was making, but delightful nonetheless. Here's to cupboard food and making something out of nothing.

Bean in the cake

2011-01-25T14:20:00.000Z

Did you grow up planting a bean in the cake? Or perhaps a coin, wrapped in tin foil? Was it for birthdays? Christmas? Some random Saint Day? What happened if you got the elusively baked bit in the cake? Did you get a prize? Was the coin/bean/figure the prize itself? Did you get to wear a silly hat? Were you granted luck, love, happiness? How long did it last - a day? a month? a year? As long as the piece of cake in front of you?

Seriously. This bean in the cake thing pops up all over! I started thinking about it on January 6 - epiphany. In France all the bakeries bake galette des rois in honour of the three wise men who arrived at the baby Jesus' manger with very expensive and inappropriate gifts. Actually I think by the time they arrived he was meant to be a toddler but that would make a very complicated nativity scene so they just stick with the baby Jesus part. Anyways the tradition is that inside the lovely puff pastry almond cream tart is baked a figurine and whoever gets the figure gets to wear the silly crown that is provided with the tart and gets to be king for a day.

All very cute and quaint, no?

Except this bean/figure/nut/whatever baked in a cake or tart shows up all over the place. Repeatedly. All sorts of random saints days are celebrated by making a cake (often heavy on nuts or dried fruits) and hiding a Thing inside for one lucky person. How peculiar. I thought it was very strange and sort of silly but then I realised my mom used to put coins wrapped in tin foil in my birthday cake. And I think I thought that was the neatest thing ever. (Don't worry I'm sure she washed the coins first) So maybe the whole thing isn't so peculiar. But I wonder where it started? I haven't been able to find that out so if anyone knows...

Galette des rois aren't at all difficult to make. Puff pastry and almond cream. I made a smallish one as I quite like them and I knew that if I made a big full sized one I would end up nibbling away at it sliver by sliver. Which I did anyways with the help of C and T, but at least it didn't start out as big...

There are a ton of recipes for the galette des rois flitting about on the internet. I used the one at Chocolate & Zucchini and used about a third of the filling for my slightly smaller circles of pastry. I did not eat the leftover filling from the bowl. No. I did not. Stop looking at me like that!

This is what I made. I was quite pleased with it.

Until I looked over at the counter. And I realise I had forgotten to put the god damned bean in it.

Know Your Pig

2011-01-16T20:13:00.000Z

Illustration by Kagan McLeod from the New York Magazine article

A brilliant post from New York Magazine and chef du jour April Bloomfield on pig pieces. I love this kind of thing. Makes going to the butcher much more satisfying.

HTELAA

2011-01-10T15:57:00.001Z

"I recommend the Hindu meal - I have no idea what a Hindu meal is, but a curry is better than the righteous indignation of the Atheist meal" from an email sent to Nathan from his friend Dr. Justin Bahl, Evolutionary Geneticist

LA Times Article: America's Good Food Fight

2011-01-10T14:54:00.000Z

A great article on the price, external costs and myths around sustainable, healthy food. Read it.

Vietnamese Cooking Class at Fernandez & Leluu

2011-01-10T12:30:00.001Z

When I was a kid my mom volunteered with CARE (Central Alberta Refugee Effort) helping families who had just immigrated to Red Deer to get settled in. She'd go to various stores and services with them and help them get acquainted with how things worked, where things were. I'm sure they would have figured it all out on their own, but, having moved to a Strange Country myself, I can see the appeal of having a friendly local to show you the ropes. We've lived here for three years and a trip to the cleaning products aisle still does my head in.

I don't remember if I met many of the families my mom met, but I do remember one family very well, and I think they had quite a profound impact on me. They were a small family - mom, dad, little boy who must have been a bit younger than my brother at the times - from Vietnam. This would have been in the late Eighties. They had some family in Canada but had (for whatever reason) landed in Red Deer. I cannot imagine what it must have been like to arrive in Red Deer, Alberta, Canada. I hope they arrived in summer. It's beautiful in it's own way, but Alberta is flat prairie land and the winter's are harsh and cold and bleak and the grey of the sky blends into the grey of the houses and the grey of the snow and it can break your heart. They had pictures in their flat of Vietnam, I remember a calendar, and it looked lush and warm and full of life.

The mother made food the likes of which I had only ever had in restaurants. And she made it every day, like it was nothing special at all. This fascinated me.

I'm sure she made plenty of dishes but all I really remember were the summer rolls. I remember taking them home by the plate load and my dad devouring them. She never wanted to come eat at our house. I don't think they liked Canadian food. But she did come over and make chocolate chip cookies with us. An odd cultural exchange that, chocolate chip cookies for summer rolls. Eventually they moved out to BC to be closer to family and when they left I think that was the last we ever heard of them.

But I can think of no other solid reason of my deep held need to one day go to Vietnam.

In the meantime I like Vietnamese food and while I have read a number of books, I've never delved into cooking it myself. So when Uyen of Fernandez & Leluu posted that she was going to be holding Vietnamese cooking classes, I was delighted with the opportunity!

Building summer rolls

Eating summer rolls!

Uyen held her second Vietnamese cooking class over the weekend. She and her mom led a group of eight of us through a crazy number of delicious dishes. We drank, we ate, we photographed and took notes. We took a break at the pub because we were bursting. Came back with renewed energy and appetite and were off again, preparing more dishes. The day culminated in a feast - we sat around the table, eating and chatting.

Building the Green papaya salad with carrot, prawns and chicken

Eating!

Bo la lot ready for the oven

Possibly my favourite thing to eat that day

Uyen took us to a nearby Vietnamese grocery store where we all picked up foreign items and asked her how and what and is it delicious? I am so excited about the prospect of heading back and walking out with my arms laden with treasures. I think that just that little bit of knowledge will make me feel quite a bit more adventurous and I might start buying random unknown things and bringing them home to test.

Stir Fried Tofu, Oyster Mushrooms & Asparagus In Oyster Sauce and Steamed Chicken with Poached greens - and brilliant accompanying sauce

Sweet & Sour Catfish Soup

I loved what Uyen had to say about the etiquette of eating. You take only what you will eat at that moment, and don't load your dish up with a mountain of food. This feels elegant, but also beautifully communal because it makes you interact with the other diners at your table and takes your face out of your plate.

Dinner table begins to come together

Feast!

Both Uyen and Ute, one of the other students who writes at Hungry in London, wrote posts about the day.

The full menu for the day:

Sweet Basil Drink

Beef Pho

Green Papaya, Prawn Salad

Catfish Hot & Sour Soup

Pan Fried Fish & Fish Sauce With Steamed Rice

Sweet & Sour Ribs With Vegetable Stir Fry

Summer Rolls

Beef in Lemongrass & Peanut Rolled in Betal Leaves

Rehydrated Logans, Seaweed & Jelly Dessert

Banana Pudding

The best part? I can actually see myself making some of these dishes at home. Vietnamese feast at C&L?

Rehydrated Longans, Lotus Seed, Jelly and Wakame with Pandan

Interview with Incoming Soil Association Director

2011-01-07T09:32:00.000Z

I like what she has to say about diversity. Read it.

New Years Day

2011-01-02T22:56:00.001Z

I thought there would be plenty of religious celebrations on January 1st. There doesn't seem to be. The Catholics used to celebrate the Circumcision of Christ, but now it is a holy day of obligation to celebrate Mary as Mother of God. I also read something about it being a bit of penance for the pagan festivities of the night before. But I couldn't find anything delicious to eat.

But yesterday was Shogatsu, Shinto New Years. In Japan people woke up and ate a soup called Ozoni. It is prepared differently based on where you come from and I read from a number of sources that you can pinpoint a person's village based on how they eat their soup. The most important, and defining ingredient seems to be mochi, a steamy sticky Japanese rice cake. There are recipes all over the internet if you google it.

I really like the idea of soup on the first day of the year. For us it's almost always a cold, (hopefully snowy) day to cuddle up and be warm so soup is the perfect meal. Plus there is something simple and unassuming about soup which makes room for all the other thoughts and pieces that the new year's day brings.

Twitter was awash in soup yesterday. Is a new year's day soup a thing? I know the Persians make one for Norouz in March that sounds delicious and that I plan on making, but seriously, is it? Do you, dear Reader (hi mom!) make soup on New Years Day? This is the fourth New Years Day that C and I have spent on our own terms and they seem to involve pancakes for brunch (except last year when I attempted a more elaborate brunch which while good isn't something I'll do again) and soup for supper. The January 1 in Paris we ate an onion soup, which we ate an awful lot while we were in Paris, not because it was authentically French but because we were authentically poor ("ahh, when we were poor in Paris" we say now). Last year I made harira (Ottolenghi's recipe, again. Really I should just turn this into an Ottolenghi love in). Anyways.

So I had planned to make the actual Shinto soup onizo. But I realised early that the spirit of the religious festival may sometimes be more important that the letter. We got back from Vienna on the 30th and the shops closed early so there wasn't much time to stock up on groceries for the weekend. Getting dashi and odd fish stick things proved impossible. My local shops are great but they are more Turkish than Japanese and I haven't got a pantry full of Japanese staples. So instead of making the perfect Japanese Shinto new years soup to honour the past, I made Moro's Chestnut and chorizo soup, to honour the day.

And it was delicious and you should make it too.

4 tbsp olive oil

1 large onion
1 carrot
1 celery stick
2 cooking chorizo sausages

Throw these into the food processor and chop them up.

Warm your soup pot and add the olive oil. Add the food processor contents and let fry slowly and gently, caramelising, for twenty minutes until the whole kitchen smells divine.

Add
2 garlic cloves, chopped
1 tsp ground cumin
1 1/2 tsp thyme leaves (supposed to be fresh but I used dried)
1 dried red chilli crumbled

Stir and let cook for two minutes.

Add Half a 400ml can of tomatoes, roughly chopped

Stir nicely together then add
400g cooked peeled chestnuts, chopped (this is two packages of the vacuum packed ones you can get at the store)
A big pinch of saffron threads, infused in 3-4 tbsp boiling water
750 ml water

Simmer for 10-15 minutes, then take off the heat and mash all the little chestnut bits with a potato masher until it is a smoother, but still rustic, texture. Season to taste with salt and pepper and a drop or two of sherry vinegar.

We ate it (almost all) with yogurt flatbread and finished it up with a lemon cake and clementine confit.

A Tart and A Flatbread

2011-01-01T20:50:00.002Z

We had two lovely friends over for dinner and I made two Ottolenghi recipes from Plenty: the caramelised garlic and goat's cheese tart and the yogurt flatbreads with mushroom barley salad. I saw via Twitter that Gastrogeek was making that tart the same night as I. I found that terribly amusing. (I didn't put butternut squash in mine though I like the addition.)

Anyways, these little flatbreads are awesome! They're quick. You can get away with making just two (which I have since done). I love them! A few years ago I got Dough out of the library and on one of the first pages is a double spread - store bought loaf and ingredient list on one side, homemade loaf and ingredient list on the other. While you and I both inherently know that there are additives and icky bits in store bought bread it really brought it home to me and I am lucky enough to live close to bakeries and markets where I can get Real Bread most of the time. But there are days when you're too late to get a loaf. Or to lazy to go out. Or the shops are closed. And you still want bread, good bread, but don't want to go to the trouble of making a proper loaf. So I turn to various flatbreads. And this is my new favourite.

Yogurt Flatbreads

135g wholemeal flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
140g greek yogurt
3 tbsp fresh coriander

butter and oil for frying them up

Combine all the ingredients. Mix with your hands into a dry dough, adding more flour if needed. Knead dough for a minute or so until it smooth and uniform. Wrap it in cling film and chill for at least an hour.

Divide dough into 6 pieces. Roll into balls and flatten with a rolling pin into rondo discs about 2mm thick. Heat some butter with some oil in a non-stick frypan and fry the breads one at a time on a medium heat for about 2 minutes per side until golden brown.

The Ship - Food Bloggers Christmas Lunch

2010-12-19T22:45:00.015Z

I had a phenomenal lunch today. I arrived at The Ship in Wandsworth shortly after noon. We had drinks. Then we had more drinks. Then I had an embarassing number of half drinks lined up beside me. Then food started to come. And it was delicious.

I met lovely people. People whose blogs I have been reading and people who don't write but love food and we had fun. Strangers who I have befriended on twitter and who I hope to eat with again. This was a lovely way to spend an afternoon. And an evening. Because lunch stretched into the evening and we left the pub at 7:00. A few brave souls went on to Turkish for dinner. It is nearly 11:00 pm and I am still full. I may never eat again. Well, I say that but I'm already excited about coooking with my new Staub La Cocotte (it's blue) and am fooddreaming of the braising roasting that will happen in the coming weeks.

There will probably be any number of blog posts about what we ate today. I was lucky that the people on my table were generous and I had mutliple bites of the foie gras, the duck and the venison. They were all delicious. But these are the photos that I took of my meal.

Black Treacle Smoked Salmon

Close up

Chestnut and mushroom gnocchi with sage crisps

Cheese. And then more cheese.

Sticky Toffee Pudding

The afternoon was so lovely. The people at The Ship were great, the food was great, the company was great.

How To Eat Like An Atheist

2010-12-17T12:41:00.000Z

I can’t remember which holiday it was. I think it may have been diwali. At any rate I was annoyed because whatever religious moment it was for whichever religious group, it sounded delicious. And I was jealous.

I’m not a practicing anything. I’m an atheist. So while I eat a nice dinner at Christmas and Easter, I don’t actually celebrate anything besides birthdays the rest of the year and so I miss out on all sorts of opportunities for deliciousness and celebrations. And it’s not just the food. I like that religious celebrations take a moment to pause and appreciate something important, to gather loved ones near and to celebrate a day or a moment or a memory that has a greater meaning that just yeah good food. And so I decided that it wasn’t fair that religious people got all the fun and that I would start celebrating the food and community side of various religious feasts. But not religiously, since I’m not, and so How To Eat Like An Atheist was born as a fun little sabbatical project in my head.

But this has been full of traps. Traps that lead deep into the internet. How do you pick which days to celebrate?

First I picked a handful of countries and decided I would see which religious days they celebrated and what they ate. Surely Christmas in India is different from Christmas in Mexico. But I needed a representative sample of countries worldwide and by the time I got to the end of compiling my list I had 40 countries. I may be on sabbatical but I do not have time to look up the religious holidays of 40 countries. Then I found this list on wikipedia that outlines public holidays by country and I thought awesome - someone has done the work for me. But I fell into a wikihole of epic proportions. Did you know that Albania celebrates Mother Theresa Day? Or that Bhutan has a Blessed Rainy Day? Or that Haiti was discovered on my birthday? Or how complicated lunar holidays get? Neither did I and each country’s listing got me further into the internet and farther away from choosing a celebration for January.

So I abandoned that. Besides, I want religious holidays. Not just public holidays. I shall look at it from the religion perspective. So I started to put together a list of the major religions. I looked at religions based on the number of people who practice them worldwide. But when do you stop? Christianity divides into the Catholics and the Protestants who then unhelpfully divide into a bazillion groups again. There are different types of Judaism. Sunnis and Shiites. Then does Taoism count as a religion or more a philosophy attached to Confucianism? What about newish religions that have popped up in the past hundred years? What about the different religions in India? And I haven’t even BEGUN to touch on the indigenous beliefs in South America, or even blinked at Africa.

Too much! Stop! this is supposed to be fun! And so, after all that, and weeks of falling into wonderlandesque wikiholes. I found this website that holds an interfaith religious calendar. It may not be perfect. It may miss out on some of the more obscure holidays, but this is what I am going to use as my main calendar for the project.

So, the plan is thus. Pick two religious celebrations a month. they may be based on a convenient date (points for falling on a Saturday or Sunday), general interest in the holiday itself (how does one celebrate the circumcision of Christ?), and deliciousness. Since this is an exercise in cooking and eating the food will of course be the most important factor. I am also reserving the right to combine celebrations. There are certain dates that are important to more than one religion and I think it will be fun to combine them and see what food we end up with.

The last piece of the puzzle is the community. Celebrations are a time for family and friends to get together and be with each other over something special. Connecting with loved ones is such an important part of being happy and as an atheist I don’t get as many excuses as others. So this is an open invitation - come hang out with us and eat and be merry.

The game begins January 1, 2011.

Making Food

2010-12-06T13:42:00.002Z

It's December and I'm taking part in #reverb10. It's a daily prompt for the month of December that invites you to reflect on the past year and think about the year to come. I like that kind of thing at this time of the year and it's helping me complete another side project which is 750 words a day. I've completed every one, but haven't been posting my responses anywhere - the internet does not need a complete record of my personal neuroses. I'm just not that big a sharer.

So why are you reading this now? Because the prompt for today was this: Make. What was the last thing you made? What materials did you use? Is there something you want to make, but you need to clear some time for it?

It got me thinking about cooking, specifically making fresh pasta. Fresh pasta on Saturday night was the last thing I made. I took two cooking classes last week. French Classics Cooking (so much butter! so much double cream!) and Fresh Pasta making. I've been making pasta for years but I've never been particularly good at it and I figured I had a voucher, why not use it to learn and improve a skill and actually use the equipment I own. A few tricks, a bit of chefly guidance and I'm feeling pretty confident about my pasta making abilities.

So I made some for dinner on Saturday night before we went out to the Soho Theatre to see Asher Treleaven. So funny.

While I was mixing the flour and eggs, kneading pulling punching pushing, I was thinking about craft and the art of making things by hand. Later, as I rolled it through the machine (so much easier now!) and cut the tagliatelle, hung it up on my makeshift drying racks and carefully separated the individual noodles, I felt like I was doing something. Like I was participating in a craft that had ancient roots and a tradition and history that I was part of by making my dinner. There's something really powerful in building something with your very own hands.

I think often about the process of cooking and baking. There's a great quote about how when you cook, you never cook alone because you take into the kitchen with you generations of cooks whose experience and trials and love is passed down and through every time you make something. You eat every day so you forget how special cooking actually is. Not just from the love that hopefully goes into your food but also the knowledge behind it. How long did it take to perfect the process that makes snails not only edible but a delicious delicacy? How many upset stomaches were there from eating the wrong mushroom? Or broken teeth from biting into a raw quince?

When I make something like pasta is feels like I'm doing something. I like dishes that require care and constant stirring supervision. Or complicated breads and baking that I can delve into and lose myself in. It feels creative and like a craft.

The last question of today's prompt asks if there is something you want to make, but need to clear time for. I look over at my cookbook shelf, with the post-its and bits of paper sticking out and there are at least a hundred things I want to make. Some will be quick after work dinners, others will require a full day immersed in the kitchen. I'm fortunate that the things I love to make are usually useful delicious things that bring something to others and form an important part of my daily world.

Are there particular dishes or meals that make you feel like you've accomplished something important? Something you make often? Or an occasional burst of kitchen creativity and energy?

Secret recipes

2010-12-02T10:25:00.000Z

When I was a kid my mom made the most bestest popcorn cake. It had jujubes in it, and was simply popcorn and jujubes held together with marshmallow - like a rice crispy square only more exciting. It was her signature children's party dish. She made it for all sorts of events - bake sales, potlucks, sleepovers. She never shared the recipe. I'm pretty sure even I don't have the recipe.

Off the top of my head I can think of two secret recipes that I guard vigilantly and that I consider family secrets and potential heirloom knowledge. The truth is, they are neither.

One recipe is a slight rift on one I took from the internet a couple of years ago. It is a huge hit and a bit like crack - you think you don't want anymore but your hand keeps grabbing it and stuffing it in your mouth. The thing is, I know, KNOW, that if this recipe were to get out it would be EVERYWHERE. You'd go to parties and there it would be. It would be gifted to people at funerals and christenings. It would lose it's distinctive crack like addiction because it would
reach saturation point. And so I've only ever given the recipe to a few family members, on the express understanding that they are absolutely NOT to share it outside our blood ties.

The other recipe is taken directly from a cookbook I got out of the library years ago and that I follow meticulously every time I make it because to veer from its perfection would be a folly. It's a crowd pleaser. I make it often and every time I make it people swoon. How can something so commonplace, such a traditional dish be so delicious? So tasty and exciting?

People ask for the recipe. I have to say no. It's a secret. For two reasons. First, if I gave you the recipe, you'd make it. Then the magic of the meal that I placed before you on that magical dinner party night would be tarnished and you'd probably think less of me. It's silly. Probably a little self absorbed. But it's true. You can't tell me that by making something yourself you don't demystify it and take a bit of the magic out of it. It's not true for everything of course. But for this particular dish it is true...

The second reason is shame. If I place on the table an epic meal, of herculean proportions, taste sensations of awesomeness in something so humble, you will want to believe in it. You will want to believe in the magic of it - the alchemy of the best ingredients, lovingly prepared and carefully seasoned. There is definitely that element to it. It was made with love. It was made with the best ingredients. But it also contains a Secret Shameful Ingredient. If I told you what it was you wouldn't enjoy it as much and you'd think less of me as a cook and indeed as a person.

I can't let that happen. And so please understand why I can't share certain recipes with you. I'd be delighted to have you come over for dinner but I'll have everything in the oven before you arrive, dishes cleaned. I'll be sipping a glass of something bubbly when you walk in
the door, laughing at the delightful thing our friend just said, and you will never discover my secrets.

Poires Savoyards

2010-11-28T12:10:00.000Z

I'm not a big fan of pears. I'm not crazy about their grainy texture or their thick skins. If someone else cuts them up and presents them on a plate as part of a fruit salad, or as an accompaniment to cheese I will gladly eat them , but they're not my favourite. I do actually like the taste of pears though, so I enjoy them cooked, poached in red wine or baked into a tart. Last year I discovered a recipe for poires savoyards in Diane Henry's book Roasted Figs Sugar Snow, one of my favourite winter cookbooks.

It's quite simple.

Butter a baking dish, lay slices of peeled pear in, sprinkle with 4 tablespoons or so of caster sugar and then pour a bit less than a cup of double cream (with a drop of vanilla in it) all over. Bake in the oven at 200 degrees for about 20 minutes until the top is golden and burnished.

Nothing to it but it makes a gorgeous rich but at the same time light dessert. We ate it often last winter.

So, pears in the fridge, I made it for dessert the other night when Tara came over. Delicious as always and I made quite a bit so I had leftovers - it is ridiculously good cold - the sauce thickens and it's divine.

Anyways I just got home, starving, from pilates and decided to make some breakfast. I made oatmeal and added four slices of the pear and a bit of the sauce. A pinch or two more of sugar and I ate the most luxurious delicious oatmeal I have ever had. Total win.

Poires Savoyards

2010-11-28T12:06:00.003Z

I'm not a big fan of pears. I'm not crazy about their grainy texture or their thick skins. If someone else cuts them up and presents them on a plate as part of a fruit salad, or as an accompaniment to cheese I will gladly eat them, but they're not my favourite. I do actually like the taste of pears though, so I enjoy them cooked, poached in red wine or baked into a tart. Last year I discovered a recipe for poires savoyards in Diane Henry's book Roasted Figs Sugar Snow, one of my favourite winter cookbooks.

It's quite simple.

Butter a baking dish, lay slices of peeled pear in, sprinkle with 4 tablespoons or so of caster sugar and then pour a bit less than a cup of double cream (with a drop of vanilla in it) all over. Bake in the oven at 200 degrees for about 20 minutes until the top is golden and burnished.

Nothing to it but it makes a gorgeous rich but at the same time light dessert. We ate it often last winter.

So, pears in the fridge, I made it for dessert the other night when Tara came over. Delicious as always and I made quite a bit so I had leftovers - it is ridiculously good cold - the sauce thickens and it's fabulous.

Anyways I just got home, starving, from pilates and decided to make some breakfast. I made oatmeal and added four slices of the pear and a bit of the sauce. A pinch or two more of sugar and I ate the most luxurious delicious oatmeal I have ever had. Total win.

Roasted Tomato and Sausage

2010-11-24T12:15:00.000Z

When does a recipe become your own? How many times do you have to make it without following the original step by step to call it yours? How many changes, however slight, give you ownership of a set of instructions?

I think about that often while reading food blogs.

After the April sausage making class we had an abundance of sausages. In fact the freezer was quite full and it's only now that the numbers have dwindled enough for me to think about purchasing sausages again. For awhile we ate our homemade, artisan sausages with glee and they did in fact taste delicious - pride does add flavour! But then I started getting bored and looked around for sausage inspiration. I found a recipe on Jamie Oliver's site for sausages roasted with tomatoes to form a lovely sauce. Excellent. I followed the recipe and made the dish. Great - delicious, absolutely a make-again. And dead simple.

So the next time I glanced at the recipe and then went forth and made some changes. And then I made it again and didn't consult the recipe. And now, while the inspiration may have come from Jamie Oliver, the recipe is mine and it is one of my favourite comfort foods at the moment.

For two

Four sausages (Italian, cumberland, whatever. Preferably homemade ;)
A small mountain of cherry/grape tomatoes. I usually use a punnet and a half or so.
4 cloves of garlic, still in their skins
Herbs!
Rosemary, a sprig or two, finely chopped.
Thyme, three sprigs or so, finely chopped (or about a teaspoon of dried).
Oregano, half a teaspoon or so
Olive Oil
Balsamic vinegar
Salt and Pepper

The tomatoes get thrown into a roasting tin, the herbs sprinkled over top, douse with a bit of olive oil, be generous. Then add a tablespoon of balsamic vinegar. Mix about. Toss in the garlic.

Roll the sausages in the oil and place them on the tomatoes. This whole thing goes in the oven (180 degrees) for about 45 minutes. Turn the sausages and mix up the tomatoes about half through. You want them to roast and blacken a bit. Sometimes my sauce is too watery and then I pop in on the stove to boil away and simmer, adding the sausages at the end to warm up before serving.

It's unctuous and herby and warm and served over polenta that's got a shocking amount of butter and cheese in it it is one of my favourite meals of the moment.

The thing is, we are actually almost out of sausages and while the class was fun I don't really see us going back... so we'll have to BUY sausages like regular people. Ew. How common.

What Did We Eat?

2010-11-18T09:41:00.000Z

I have a day book. I've kept one each year since 2003. I write down what happens that day, keep track of birthdays and important appointments. That kind of thing. I also record what I eat. Not every single day. But most. They are short entries normally:

Tuesday February 9
So anxious. Went home and made spectacular, elaborate aubergine wrapped ricotta gnocchis with brown butter sage sauce. Divine, esp. on a tuesday.

Saturday March 6
Up so early! Bought an octopus, jeans, made a pie!

Friday July 16
A date night that wasn't. Both home late & tired so we ordered indian and watched television.

If we have a particularly epic meal I will do my best to write a full description of what everyone ate. If I make some particularly delicious but can't remember where the inspiration came from I'll record that too, just in case.

I write food down because it helps me remember. I may not remember what the weather was like or what was going on in politics, but if I've written down the food I can usually pull up a pretty good picture, visuals, smell, of the day. It's like the moment gets captured in the food and saved there. It's likely it acts as an aide-mémoire for me because sitting down to eat requires you to slow down and breathe and relax, even for a few moments.

The reason I bring it up is because of this lovely short article in the New Yorker about a man who also wrote down what he ate.

Then a treat, now commonplace

2010-11-12T10:18:00.000Z

Homemade candied tomatoes made me think of the homemade sun dried tomatoes that my Aunt made one year.

They were hard as rocks and needed much love in order to soften them up so you could use them but she made them and they were free. They were kind of special. I received them at a point in my life where sun dried tomatoes were a novelty and an expensive treat and something that I rarely, if ever, bought for myself.

What other ingredients are there like that? Ones that were a treat, a special event, something to be treasured that now, as semi grown ups with incomes and choices, are things we eat regularly and don't treasure in the same way. Nice wine. I remember when buying a nice bottle (nice being relative, right?) was an event and something special. When mangoes where pricey and buying one and eating it, savouring it, was the height of luxury.

Cheese. God. I am so utterly spoiled now. I can get all sorts of cheese, it's not a big deal, it's not outrageously expensive like it was in Calgary, and I munch on it as a snack all the time. But there was a time, in my undergrad, when going to get cheese from the Janice Beaton cheese shop was an Event.

It was pretty much the only dedicated, artisan, cheese shop in Calgary. Or at least the only one that I knew about. It was not far from my house, but it was on 17th Avenue in the cool kids district, so I usually got dressed up a bit. Not a lot, but I didn't run out in my lululemon gear. I'd go in and the guys who worked there were wonderful. So knowledgable. So willing to talk, to explain, to try things with me and explain why and how and what. I'd buy an obscene amount of cheese for one poor Classics student, grab a baguette and some fruit on my way home and study and write and devour a king's ransom in dairy love.

The cheese I buy now is probably better. I live in England. It doesn't have as far to go (food miles and all). It's not as expensive. I still like to learn about it. But it is something I take for granted in a way that ten years ago would gave seemed crazy.

Candied Tomatoes

2010-10-18T10:13:00.000+01:00

At the height of summer tomato season, or when I get a bit overexcited about tomatoes and buy £20 worth of them from the nice guy at The Tomato Stall, I have, on occasion, wound up with too many tomatoes. Tragic. Especially if you're buying organic, kissed every night by virgins tomatoes. Those things should not go to waste. So I have had to come up with different ways to eat them that will encompass a whole glorious tomato feast. We do roasted tomato soup (last time we did it with feta cheese and dill sprinkled on top before serving which was excellent), the salad thing, fresh tomato pasta sauce, you know, the basics that you turn to when you have an abundance of tomatoes. But. What if you can't actually eat them that day. What if you're going out, and you know that the tomatoes sitting on the counter (because you and I both know we would NEVER EVER put tomatoes (or bananas) in the fridge - it makes me cringe when people do) will not make it until your next meal at home - which could be days away?

You roast them and turn them into little bundles of tomato candy. Then you can use them rather like you would sun dried tomatoes, except you made them yourself so they taste a bit sweeter and a bit more like win.

Or you could just eat them on their own. Pop them into your mouth. Like candy. Because they really are that sweet.

The idea is all over the place in various cookbooks, blogs and whatnots but the inspiration for this came from A Year in my Kitchen by Skye Gynell. The book is on my cookbook shelf and I am at my desk so here's a rough estimate of what I do.

Take tomatoes.
Cut in half.
Sprinkle with salt, pepper and sugar, olive oil.
Toss in preheated to 200 oven.
Immediately turn oven down to 150.
Do not open the oven door, let the heat stay inside.
Leave.
Go out for dinner with friends.
Enjoy.

Stumble home and peak in the oven - tada! Candied tomatoes! They should be shrivelled and not dry. Test one. If it's delicious test another, just to be sure. Toss in a jar, cover with olive oil and keep in the fridge.

I'm not sure how long they last because I eat them so quickly.

Slavery in Food Production

2010-10-04T17:28:00.000+01:00

Knowing how our running shoes are made doesn't seem to stop us wearing them, so I doubt whether this article will make us stop eating fish. I'm not sure what to write about this. It's bad. Good food isn't just about it being delicious, or healthy. Or sustainably. How can it be any of chose things when the people bringing it to your table are so horribly treated?

Food Waste

2010-10-03T13:43:00.000+01:00

I just re-stumbled on this link about food waste from last year. You should look at it. And then get angry.

High Fructose Corn Syrup - Still Evil

2010-09-16T13:04:00.000+01:00

Just as mainstream people are starting to recognise that high fructose corn syrup is in virtually everything (rice crispies!) and that it's not good for you (causes cancer in rats!) the powers that make it want to change the name. The producers feel that high fructose corn syrup is too difficult for consumer brains and want to change the name to the simpler (and less evil sounding) corn sugar.

Article here. Evil all around. It tastes funny too.

On Reading the Recipe

2010-09-14T22:30:00.001+01:00

Tonight's dinner is Two Potato Vindaloo from Ottolenghi's Plenty.

Exciting, no? trying a new recipe from one of my favourite books? And a spicy delicious vindaloo? How delightful on a cold rainy Tuesday evening in London! Before I left this morning, I read the list of ingredients, noting that we were out of cumin seeds and needed to pick up yogurt. I got trapped on Oxford Street and it took me awhile to get home but I got these last ingredients and at about 8:30 I started to make dinner.

And this is why you should ALWAYS READ THE ENTIRE RECIPE BEFORE YOU START.

Roast spices, grind. Check
Chop onions, begin to fry with spices. Check

Peel and chop potatoes. Check (with help from C)

Simmer spices and onion mixture for 20 minutes.
Simmer potatoes for 20 minutes.
Add sweet potatoes. Simmer for 40 minutes.

It's 10:30. We've got 10 more simmering minutes to go, then another 10 minutes to thicken the sauce. Assuming that the potatoes are tender. If not they'll obviously need more.

If we're lucky we will eat dinner at 11:00. If I had read the whole recipe I would have made something else.

This had better be good.

Food Riots

2010-09-09T23:34:00.003+01:00

Do you remember the food riots from 2008 when food prices soared around the world? You may. Chances are if you're reading this they didn't affect you.

There's an excellent article on the recent riots in Mozambique over cost of living increases, not just food, that should make people start to pay attention. In most developed countries we spend a shockingly small amount of our income on food (for all sorts of reasons) but if you are poor, you are more likely to spend a disproportionate amount of your income on food. And if prices go up dramatically - what do you do?

Figs with cheese

2010-09-09T21:19:00.000+01:00

and a drizzle of honey.

That's all.

My Perfect Roast Chicken

2010-08-29T23:44:00.003+01:00

What is the perfect method to roast a perfect chicken?

Every once in awhile (ok, often) I like to pull out a bunch of recipe books and see how everyone handles a simple ingredient or process. I love the maxims that contradict, the "way my mother taught me"s, the traditions, the Way Things Ares, the certainty that though there may be other ways, theirs is truly the best, most authentic, the most PERFECT way. On a cool Sunday I pulled out Nigella Lawson, Nigel Slater, Jamie Oliver, I know how to cook, Silver Spoon, Joy of Cooking and Les Halles, looking for inspiration for my roast chicken.

I mean, I know how to roast a chicken. Clearly. I love the simplicity of a roast chicken. It seems like it should be a lot of work, it's impressive on some level. But really you just massage it with some fat, season it with some tasty stuff and toss it in the oven until it's not pink. Hardly rocket science.

But the Les Halles book by Anthony Bourdain was a bit more involved and I decided to (mostly) follow his instructions. Herb butter massaged in underneath the skin, herbs and lemon tucked up inside. The way he cooks his chicken though is my new favourite way to cook my chicken.

The oven gets pre heated to 375F/190C and you place the chicken inside the oven with a half cup of white wine in the pan. Baste occasionally and move the chicken about in the oven. Then you CRANK the oven up to 450F/230F and cook for another 25 minutes.

Leave it to rest and then carve up. It was the juiciest, most fragrant roast chicken, with the crispiest best skin I have ever made. And I don't usually like the skin. So this will be my new go to method for roasting a chicken until my next bout of curiosity leads me to something new.

Cream Corn of Love

2010-08-15T22:13:00.001+01:00

Cream corn was one of my favourite foods growing up. I even remember my grandmother made her own and canned it. It is still an integral part of one of my all time favourite home comfy meals, which only really works when cooked by my mom. I love it. But I haven't eaten it in a really long time (at my house – I had it in June at my parents). Does it even exist in London? Have I grown out of it on some visceral level? When was the last time I ate it?

So tonight to accompany my new favourite roasted chicken, I made a recipe from Ottolenghi's Plenty – sweetcorn polenta with aubergine sauce. And, dear Reader, the memory, all the goodness, of cream corn, came flooding back to me. A taste. A memory. So incredibly evocative. It made a really big impact on me. I can't remember the last time I had such a strong food memory come and give me a hug and a kick at the same time.

It's not the same as canned or my Grandmother's, obviously. This one uses 6 cobs of fresh corn and 200g of feta cheese. But the sensation of being little, loved and loving cream corn? That was the same.

Sustainable Fish

2010-08-15T09:46:00.000+01:00

How sustainable was your last meal of fish? If you don't know or didn't catch it yourself, chances are it wasn't. If you had salmon, tuna or shrimp recently (and who hasn't?) then you're probably guilty of plundering the seas for your own selfish appetite. I hope it was worthwhile and delicious. Please say you didn't overcook the salmon. That'd be disgraceful.

Here's a list of at-risk fish. This list tells you what to eat instead. Check it out and think about it next time you choose fish.

You know which fish isn't on the list? Grey mullet. We had that for dinner on Saturday night. Caught in the most sustainable way possible. A friend of our fishmonger's caught it. He went free diving and speared it. She showed us the spot on the fish's cheek. Yes, my Saturday night dinner was speared.

I love it. How caveman.

Anyways! It was delicious. I'm loving trying new fish that are guilt free.

I did the fish really simply, just pan fried with a bit of flour and paprika to dust it. I stole the accompanying salad from The Compass.

Fried Fish on Chorizo, Green Bean and Olive Salad

A big handful of green beans, tailed, blanched and refreshed
Two chorizos, sliced and fried to develop a lovely crust
Handful of left over roasted potatoes, warmed up with the chorizo
Small handful of pitted black olives

Toss together in the pan so all the ingredients are warmed through with chorizo oil and serve with your friend fish.

The Best Tofu

2010-08-08T19:15:00.004+01:00

Have I mentioned my deep, deep love of all things Ottolenghi? Oh. I have. Here's more gushing...

Last night I made the most delicious, spiciest and awesomest tofu we have ever eaten at home. Possibly eaten anywhere.

I'm not a huge tofu fan. Without adequate love and care it mostly tastes of slime, gray and nothing. Not appetising. And I know plenty of people who think it's gross, end point. If that's your starting point I dare you to make Ottolenghi's Black Pepper Tofu. It's so damn delicious. The tofu, dusted with corn flour and fried so it developes a lovely crust and great texture, then the sauce it gets coated in is a silly savory dream of flavour, with killer spice, chili and, you guessed it, black pepper. So so so delicious.

Yotam's recipe is on the Guardian website. You can start there, or you can work from my changes. Mine was killer hot. If you follow Yotam's it might be assasination in the dead of night hot. Just saying...

Black Pepper Tofu

Prep and Sauce

80g butter (this is half what Yotam uses but was fine, I rarely shy away from excessive amounts of butter but come on- you always realise how MUCH butter you actually use when you weigh, plus I needed some for cookies)
12 small shallots, peeled and thinly sliced
12 garlic cloves, crushed
3 red chillies, thinly sliced (Yotam called for 8 mild ones. How do you check how hot they are? Take a bite? I opted for less, just to be safe. Turns out that was wise. Eight of these babies and it would have been inedible.)
About two inches of ginger, chopped into tiny pieces

Melt the butter in your saute pan and add the flavours. Let them melt into each other until nice and soft, about 15 minutes.

Meanwhile...

Tofu Prep

600g firm, fresh tofu - because that's the size it came in
Cornflour for dusting, and playing with water in afterwards
Vegetable oil, for frying

Cut your tofu into small blocks and dust with cornflour, shaking off any excess. Heat up the oil, not too much, and fry your tofu into cubes of golden, crusty deliciousness. You'll probably need to do this in batches. This is dangerous and involves much spitting hot oil. Set aside to drain and continue on with your sauce.

Finishing the sauce

3 tbsp sweet soy sauce (called kecap manis, it's sometimes referred to as Indonesian ketchup. It was a bit tough to find, if you can't get it you could substitute soy sauce with some molasses or palm sugar in it...)
3 tbsp light soy sauce
4 tsp light soy sauce (yes there are two entries for light soy sauce. This one was supposed to be dark soy sauce but I got confused and bought another giant bottle of light soy sauce instead of dark. Oops. Anybody need to borrow some soy sauce?)

Let the soy sauce dissolve into the garlic and butter- it should get silky and shiny looking.

Now. Add your coarsely crushed peppercorns. Yotam called for FIVE tablespoons. I used three. Again, killer hot.

Once the sauce is combined add your crusty tofu and let it warm up and get enveloped in the shiny sauce. Add a bunch of green/spring onions, thinly sliced and serve with copious amounts of rice, to balance the heat.

T is for Tart Failure

2010-08-06T20:26:00.005+01:00

For a Fail Tart, it's quite pretty.

Was it me? I'm not sure. I'm not sure what's worse – me screwing up the recipe or the recipe being crap. Either way. Failure.

There are a few recipe book authors who I trust implicitly. I have made enough of their recipes to trust that unless something goes drastically wrong (like the time I mixed up the baking powder and baking soda in the pancakes when I was seven – sorry dad, thanks for eating them anyways) the end result will likely be scrumptious and dependable.

So I am pretty disappointed with the tart I made last weekend. Not only did I actually follow the recipe to the letter, I also bought a bunch of ingredients especially for it, and it was sort of a kind of pricey endeavour. And it wasn't very good. It was slightly bitter. It didn't set properly. Yuck.

So I won't give you the recipe. Nor will I tell you where I got it from or who wrote it. It's their only spill up so far – I'll let the author get by scott free just this once.

However! The pasty bit of it was lovely- a bit of texture with the addition of polenta and some parmesan- and I had a bit left over so tonight I pulled it out of the freezer and made a fridge tart. And it was delicious and lovely and well set and much better than the fancy one I tried last week. So there.

Fridge Tart

Two leeks, chopped and softened in butter
Two cloves of roasted garlic
A half a pot of creme fraiche (about a quarter cup?)
Four sundried tomatoes, chopped
A quarter of a round of sheep's cheese, chopped
A pinch of chili

Left over pastry gets rolled out into a vaguely round shape. The fridge bits get mixed together, taste and season, then plopped in the middle, bring the sides up and bake until nicely browned.

Tada! MUCH better than the flouncy fussy one from last week. So there.

Gorgeous food and Beautiful Models

2010-07-28T22:27:00.002+01:00

I'm thrilled to say that some of my photographs were published in the latest issue of Fire & Knives. The brief for the shoot was highly unique: take a photograph of a restaurant's signature dish … with models. This gave L and I the opportunity to try St. John, famous for their Roast Bone Marrow & Parsley Salad.

As for the models? They behaved themselves nicely for the most part, though there was a bit of lying down on the job.

The Harvest

2010-07-26T16:21:00.000+01:00

Small but ours. Quite proud of our little beanstalk.

ZUCCHINI

2010-07-18T14:37:00.001+01:00

Zucchini. Courgette. Did you know it's technically an immature fruit?

I don't love zucchini. It is decidedly not one of my favorite vegetables. Is it anyone's? Maybe in late winter? When the thought of an abundance of zucchini means summer and warmth and bbqs and cherries but then it' not really about the zucchini itself, now is it? I mean, I don't hate it. It's not something I refuse to eat (like raisins) or only eat reluctantly and with enough recognition from those around me that I am in fact eating something I find terribly gross (like raisins). No, I just don't LOVE zucchini. And as anyone who has ever hate a fight with a loved one knows, hate is not the opposite of love. Indifference is.

I am indifferent to zucchini.

Also, even though I live in England and it is called courgette, and I call it courgette in conversation, I still call it zucchini in my head and when I go to write it down. Someone should look up the etymology between the two words, so everyone can understand the cultural differences between them. Maybe I will. (I did. See below the recipe.)

Even though I don't actually like it that much I seem to buy it quite often. It's in season. It's there, I'll purchase a few (especially cute little ones from the farmer's market) and surely I'll find inspiration in one of my many cookbooks for something delicious that will uplift it beyond it's humble vegetable (fruit) state. And I have. I've made some nice dishes. But none where I was so excited about the zucchini itself. None that were so amazing and delicious that I felt proud of my creation.

I've made zucchini lemon pizza. Zucchini wrapped lamb kebabs. Zucchini saute with almonds. Zucchini side dishes. Zucchini soup. Pasta with zucchini. But really? It's all meh.

Anyways, the reason for the zucchini rant, and the reason I figured out that I'm not actually all that big a fan, is because I made a zucchini dish the other day that I really liked. That made me feel proud of my creation and pleased that I had purchased zucchini. It's from the New York Times, a recipe by a New York interior designer of Egyptian descent. It's lovely. It's delicious. We had lunch leftovers. You should make it too.

Maybe then you'll learn to love zucchini a little.

Here is the recipe, pilfered directly and without change from the New York Times.

In Egypt, “every lunch and dinner includes rice,” she said, as she prepared zucchini pilaf and almonds, a subtly spiced dish that includes tiny amounts of allspice, coriander, cumin, cayenne and cilantro. To finish the dish, she serves the rice with a thick yogurt-garlic sauce on the side. The garlic is not a mere token addition — though finely minced, it is clearly present and makes yogurt a newly fascinating food.

Zucchini Pilaf With Almonds

Ingredients
        For the rice:
        1/2 cup slivered almonds
        1/2 tablespoon butter
        1/2 cup long grain rice
        1 cup vegetable broth
        1/2 teaspoon allspice (the only other recipe with zucchini that i like also has allspice. maybe the    key to an excellent zucchini dish is allspice?)
        1/2 teaspoon salt

        For the zucchini:
        2 1/2 tablespoons olive oil
        1 medium onion, finely chopped
        2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
        1 pound zucchini , ends trimmed, halved lengthwise (or quartered if large) and cut into 1/3-inch slices
        1 teaspoon ground coriander
        1 teaspoon ground cumin
        Pinch of cayenne pepper
        1/2 teaspoon salt
        2 tablespoon currants or dark raisins
        3 tablespoons chopped cilantro
        Freshly ground black pepper

For the yogurt-garlic sauce:
        1 cup Greek yogurt, or strained non-Greek yogurt
        2 garlic cloves, finely chopped or pressed through a garlic press
        1 tablespoon dried crushed mint
        Pinch of cayenne
        Salt and freshly ground pepper

1. For the rice: Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Place almonds on a baking sheet, and bake until lightly toasted, about 10 minutes. Remove, and set aside to cool.

2. In a small pan over medium heat, add butter and rice. Stir until the rice is lightly toasted, 5 to 8 minutes. Add vegetable broth, allspice, and salt. Bring to boil, then reduce heat to very low so the broth barely simmers; use a heat diffuser if necessary. Cover and cook for 15 minutes. Meanwhile, prepare the zucchini.

3. For the zucchini: Place a large sauté pan over medium heat, and add olive oil. Add onion, and cook, stirring, until translucent and lightly browned, about 10 minutes. Add garlic, and cook for 2 minutes. Add the zucchini, coriander, cumin, cayenne and salt. Cook, stirring, for 5 minutes. Add rice and currants, and mix well. If the rice looks dry, add two tablespoons water. Cover, and cook until the zucchini and rice are tender, about 15 minutes. The rice mixture may be uncovered and quickly stirred once or twice, covering it immediately after.

4. For the yogurt garlic sauce: In a small bowl, combine the yogurt, garlic, mint and a pinch of cayenne. Mix well, and season with salt and pepper to taste.

5. When the rice and zucchini are ready, top with cilantro, toasted almonds and fresh black pepper. Serve immediately, with yogurt-garlic sauce passed separately.

Zucchini vs Courgette
From Wikipedia (citations required):

Zucchini, like all summer squash, has its ancestry in the Americas[citation needed]. However, the varieties of squash typically called "zucchini" were indeed developed in Italy, many generations after their introduction from the "New World". Courge, French for squash. "Zucca" is the Italian word for squash and "zucchina" is its diminutive, becoming "zucchine" in the plural. However, "zucchino", the masculine form, becoming "zucchini" in the plural, is just as commonly used and is prevalent in Tuscany. Italian dictionaries such as "lo Zingarelli 1995, Zanichelli editor", give both forms. "Zucchini" is used in Italy , and in Australia, Canada and the United States. 'Zucchini' is plural in Italian whereas in English it is singular. The first records of zucchini in the United States date to the early 1920s. It was almost certainly brought over by Italian immigrants and probably was first cultivated in the United States in California.

June Happiness

2010-06-20T18:19:00.000+01:00

is the very last of the farmer's asparagus with homemade mayonnaise/aioli for Sunday lunch with a bottle of rosé. With a hint of sun shining in. No nice photos. Just love.

Tuna = Elephants

2010-03-20T13:25:00.001Z

I was very upset yesterday. Emotionally gutted. It was a tough day at work and the news I read in the morning meant every poke was a bit sharper.

Remember when I said I'd tell you why eating tuna was like eating elephants?

We're fishing and eating the tuna to extinction. Unless you've been living under a rock you've probably already heard that. But then we do hear that, don't we? Cod, shrimp, salmon. Seafood in general, right? We eat/fish/farm too much and it's bad and we should stop but this one piece of salmon fillet won't matter and isn't it delicious?

But the animals we are eating to extinction have never, to my knowledge, been so endangered that CITES has been mentioned and international bodies have stepped in to make fishing a species illegal. That's how bad it is.

So on Thursday 18 March when the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species in Doha, Qatar voted overwhelmingly to reject the ban on trade in tuna (and polar bears, incidentally), I was upset.

As Barry Estabrook writes, soon tuna may no longer be endangered, they may be extinct.

So go enjoy your tuna fish sandwich, while you can. Please make sure it's served with a generous helping of shame and a sprinkling of doom, because we all know that one species affects another and that this is bad news for more than just tuna.

Oh, and you may want to include a side of elephant. Because the convention will also likely lift a ban on the sale of elephant ivory and then you can tell your children that you ate the last of two extinct animals.

Full disclosure: There are two tins of tuna in my cupboard. They are the last tins I will ever buy.

Why I don't write about wine

2010-03-16T19:42:00.012Z

Early morning wine on holiday in Venice

During my undergrad in Calgary I spotted a fancy new wine shop opening up just as the Winter semester was coming to a close. I liked the idea and didn't want to work full time at the hotel while doing one class over the summer and decided to apply.

This was the beginning, maybe the heyday, of speciality wine shops in Calgary and there were tons of young hip people with tons of wine knowledge and expertise buzzing round the city. I was not one of them. I believe I started my cover letter with "I know nothing about wine but I really want to learn." For whatever reason Sandra brought me in for an interview and gave me a job.

The store was gorgeous. In the cellar of the 100 year old sandstone Alberta Hotel Building (ancient by Western Canada standards), brick, old wood, we even had a ghost in the backroom. Because the store was new and in the downtown core after the business types went home the flow of people trickled down to almost nothing and so in the evenings whoever was in charge would pull us round the tasting bar and open a bottle and we would learn. We had access to a vast library of material and great brains full of knowledge - we learnt about the places and the history and why this glass and that grape. We held tastings which were carefully researched and themed. We ate a lot of cheese.

We studied Le Nez du Vin daily, making up scent experiences like apple pie and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches when we tired of gooseberry and barnyard. (At the time I didn't even know what a gooseberry was.) I got to meet local celebrity chefs who did events with us. Bernard Callebaut fed me truffles.

September came and I went back to school and down to one part time job (the better paying one) at the hotel.

For all the training that summer (and I kept up my education, let me tell you! There's a reason I have student loans!) I have never been able to describe a wine without feeling like a pretentious dick. I have an excellent palate for ingredients - I can usually dissect a dish and figure out what is in it - but not for wine. I am more likely to describe a wine with an emotion or memory than a flavour.

So I generally won't write about wine unless it's the story or context, or the emotion and memory of the bottle. Because at the end of the day unless you a wine professional or really into that type of analytical experience, you don't drink wine to dissect it. You drink it to savour it and melt into the moment. And it's those moments and that meaning that I want to remember.

Late Afternoon wine on holiday in Venice

Lahooh!

2010-03-15T16:26:00.003Z

We went to the Imperial War Museum's exhibit called Ministry of Food yesterday. It was great! You should go - it's open til January 2011 so you have plenty of time to plan your trip and come to visit us. (We even bought a new bit for the art line!) While we were there I was thinking about what we had in our fridge and how we shouldn't be wasteful and that we had an awful lot of random food in the fridge (market day was particular heavy on the cheese AND I visited the Ginger Pig) and that I didn't have any clear plan for dinner.

And then I remembered the silly number of carrots in the fridge and this recipe for Hot Carrot Salad and settled back to enjoy the rest of the day, comforted to know that dinner was taken care of.

The recipe suggests serving the carrot salad on crumpets. We didn't have any crumpets and while I made some for brunch last weekend I thought if I was going to go to the trouble of making them I could go to the trouble of making lahooh, which is what Yotam says the salad would tradtionally be served with. Yotam has never led me astray so I looked around on the magical internet for some details about lahooh. And I found a new site with a whole new world of cooking - Somalia. I am so excited to poke around and taste some new tastes!

Anyways. Lahooh. SO easy! It's basically a spongey crepe, similar to injera and a perfect foil for the (SPICY) aromatic carrot goodness.

Didn't get it perfect the first time but I will definitely try it again!

2010-03-14T21:37:00.002Z

Kingsley Amis’s admonition about dieting: “The first, indeed the only, requirement of a diet is that it should lose you weight without reducing your alcoholic intake by the smallest degree.”

Parsnips FTW!

2010-03-14T18:13:00.005Z

Last night I discovered the World's Best Way to Eat Parsnips. Well, I didn't discover them. Simon Hopkinson did and he wrote the recipe up in the March Olive magazine, though it actually comes from his book The Vegetarian Option which is on my (long) list of books to add to my collection.

You must make these. These are so awesome. And we didn't manage to eat them all and then we heated them up in the oven this afternoon and they WERE STILL GOOD. And how come no one has ever mentioned romesco sauce? It's my new favourite.

Cheese-crusted fried parsnip strips with romesco sauce

Romesco Sauce of Awesomeness

40g skinned almonds, gently fried until golden in 2T olive oil

1 garlic clove, minced

1 small dried chilli

60g sundried tomatoes, drained

60g roasted red peppers from a jar, drained

1 tbsp sherry vinegar

1 tbsp hot water

Toss everything into the blender. Blend until numbly but not entirely smooth.

3 parsnips, peeled and cut into 6 inch strips

Blanched until just tender, drained and left to cool.

Mix

60g white breadcrumbs

50g parmesan, freshly grated (Original recipe calls for much more but this was sufficient)

1/2t cayenne pepper

pinch of salt

Then coat the parsnips strips in flour, run through a beaten egg and tossed with breadcrumb mix to coat.

Fry the parsnip strips in batches in a deep pan with about two centimeters of oil at 170C for a few minutes each, until they're crisp and golden.

Drain and eat!

No pics. Too delicious.

How To Make An Octopus

2010-03-07T22:54:00.016Z

Walking home from the Ginger Pig yesterday we poked our heads into the fishmonger's and I spotted octopus. I had never cooked an octopus before so we had a discussion with the lovely fishmonger and a 1.5lb octopus was purchased.

How To Cook an Octopus

How long is a piece of string? (C's note: This is a common British expression to express the inability to measure something abstract.)

Practical Suggestions from the internet and reference books:

1. Steam it in its own liquid
2. Braise it for hours
3. Pre-freeze it
4. Add a cork to the cooking liquid
5. Beat the octopus against a rock.

Hm. Ok.

I knew I wanted to do an octopus and potato salad, the way I'd eaten it in Italy but I also wasn't getting any super clear direction on how to do it so I took all the advice that made sense to me and made it my way. It worked. It was lovely. And so I will add my method to the internet's glut of how to cook an octopus. Without beating it.

How to Cook an Octopus like Leah did
(inspired by Mark Bittman, Jamie Oliver, Harold McGee, and the Silver Spoon – thanks guys!)

I decided to go with the slow braising method. I made a broth of lemon zest, chili, garlic and parsley stalks (and water, obviously). And lots of salt. Brought that to a boil and plunged the octopus in, then turned it down to a barely there simmer for 1.5 hours.

Just as the octopus hit the water it curled up on itself, so I pulled it out so C could see and take a photo - so cool.

I tested the octopus, to see if it was tender, after an hour and a bit - it was, so I added thick slices of potato for the last fifteen minutes or so to cook until tender.

Turned off the heat and gingerly removed the potatoes, adding them to a bowl with a bit of lemon juice. I let the octopus cool down in the water, as suggested (apparently it helps it relax after the cooking process). Finally I took it out, chopped it up, tossed it with the potatoes. Voila dinner.

Pizza in East London

2010-03-06T18:14:00.011Z

Pizza seems to be in vogue here in London. It makes sense really: pizza is affordable, delicious and a sensible night out during times of economic hardship. I know that even Toronto's undergoing a pizza renaissance – some friends took me to Pizza Libretto on Ossington last summer and the place was packed to the gills, as if Torontonians had only just tasted proper pizza for the first time (sure Terroni's does a nice pizza, but it's not their focus).

So here's a look at the pizza scene here in East London.

The Stringray Globe Cafe
Sitting at the top of Columbia Road is the Stringray Globe, which is well known amongst East Londoners for its delicious, inexpensive pizzas. It's tough to get served though! Tables are usually in short supply and we've been refused take-out a couple of times just because the kitchen is so busy. Usual selection of wine and beer. Their Bosciola and Capricciosa (hold the egg) pizzas are favourites of ours.

The Lauriston
A bit of a hike for us, the Lauriston is actually a local pub just off Victoria Park that happens to have fantastic pizzas cooked in a proper Italian pizza oven. As its a pub, their selection of beer, ciders and wine is really quite decent as well. Throughout the week you'll find all kinds of Hackney hipsters lounging about, taking part in the Wednesday pub quiz, or even belting out tunes with Hot Breath Karaoke (don't worry, it's only held once a month). On the weekends, it's very family friendly with babies, toddlers and accompanying strollers everywhere. Apparently, they do a great breakfast and brunch as well.

Pizza East
The latest to the scene, Pizza East is definitely the current hip joint (the girl who checked our coats was wearing a sweater that may have formerly been an ostrich). Located over the main floor of the Tea Building in Shoreditch, it also has a nightclub, Concrete, in the basement, hence the dressed-to-impress crowd. Excellent pizza, a unique, fluffy soft crust and a wide range of delicious toppings. Do order the spicy sausage, mozarella, sprouting broccoli and garlic pizza – fantastic! Good selection of beer and wine as well; our Peroni and Moretti beers came ice-cold with chilled glasses. My only critique was the sparkling water (bottled in-house) was quite flat.

All three are quite different but equally delicious. The Globe probably gets most of our business, only because it's right around the corner from us. In addition to these ones, two more pizzerias have recently opened up – an Italian one in Broadway Market and a Sardinian place on Kingsland Road. More to sample soon enough...

Grill Lines

2010-02-22T17:27:00.000Z

You know what's sexy? Grill lines.

And now that we have a grill pan everything is getting grill lines - courgettes, tortillas, steaks, green onions...

Sexy tastes awesome.

Grandma Lumsden's Pancakes

2010-02-14T19:06:00.003Z

Every once in a blue moon I go through the RECIPE folder on my computer and do a thorough tidy-up/rediscover. I delete duplicates, make annotations, retitle for easy reference and pick through things I had forgotten I wanted to make. And I found a plain text edit file with my Grandma Lumsden's Pancakes recipe.

We make breakfast most Sundays. We used to go out for brunch just about every Sunday (ah Fire on the East Side and Amnesia!) but now it's a more occasional thing (ah Albion and Pavilion!) and we tend to make something at home. Often I get up early, putz about in the kitchen and bring C breakfast in bed and make him go on and on about how wonderful a girlfriend I am.

Anyways we make pancakes often - quick! easy! limited number of ingredients! - and have auditioned a few different recipes - Jamie Oliver's 1 Cup recipe, Joy of Cooking, German Oven Pancakes - all resulting in different, but mostly equally good, pancakes. (Though last week's topped with greek yogurt, cherry compote and maple syrup were especially delightful!)

I think though that I have discovered, in Grandma's recipe, the ultimate thick Americana-style pancake. They were fluffy. They were thick. They held their blueberries. They were filling. They were dead easy. They were a win.

So I think Grandma Lumsden's recipe will now be my go to recipe for pancakes. And after a few times making it, I can call it my own.

Pancakes a la Grandma Lumsden

Mix
1-1/2 cup flour
2-1/2 teaspoons baking powder
2 tablespoons sugar
3/4 teaspoon salt

Beat egg well
1 egg
Add to milk and oil (I actually used the equivalent of apple butter because that was there)

1-1/4 cup milk
3 tablespoon cooking oil
Add to flour mixture- don't mix much. Cook and eat.

Cheddar

2010-02-07T15:04:00.004Z

With Broadway Market being a five minute walk from our house, L and I have buying our week's groceries there for over two years now. As such, we've become friends with a number of the vendors, in particular the staff at Norbiton Cheese, whom we visit nearly religiously.

This week, in addition to the usual delights, Bryan also had these beautiful looking cheddars to which L was immediately drawn based solely on their aesthetics (you don't often see purple cheese and L happens to like purple quite a bit).

On Meat

2010-01-17T00:05:00.001Z

I'm a flexatarian with four kilos of pig in my fridge. (See the photo of one I prepared earlier - that one was even bigger!)

(As much as I hate cutesy terms and non descriptors I can identify with flexatarian. I'm not a vegetarian. I enjoy meat and I want to continue eating it. I'm not a pescatarian, a term which annoys me. So someone who doesn't eat very much meat and who regularly chooses veggie over meaty- yeah, I can work with that. )

Focus - FOUR kilos of pig. A pig shoulder which is currently nestled in the fridge with a rub (rosemary, fennel, garlic, chili, preserved lemon) waiting for the morning when I will pop it into the oven for six or so hours.

How does a flexitarian justify four kilos of pig? Isn't a flexi just a lazy, or uncommitted, vegetarian? Isn't FOUR kilos rather excessive?

Let me climb on my soap box and tell you want I think about meat...

I like bacon. I think there are few homier meals than a roast chicken. Steak makes me salivate. Food is a celebration and for us Anglo Saxons a big chunk of meat is traditionally the centerpiece. Food equals love. So I can't imagine becoming a full vegetarian and giving up these bits of comfort and love and tradition. But learning about meat, all about it, from health issues to ethical to environmental to consumer issues, makes it very difficult for me to eat it the way I used to and the way I cook and the way I eat has shifted substantially in the last few years.

We eat much less meat than we used to. It features as the centerpiece of our meals maybe once a week and gets used as flavour and side bits two or three (two rashers of bacon in pasta, a sausage in soup). The meat that we do eat comes from either the butcher in Broadway Market or the Ginger Pig and is brought up and butchered in a way that I feel good about. I feel good knowing that the meat that I buy satisfies every tickbox I have against the long list of "Meat is Bad".

I recognise that it is expensive. I recognise that I'm really lucky that I have these options. But it is a choice and a commitment that I am happy to make. (And since this is my blog it is my soap box and I can sing the praises of happy meat to my hearts content.)

As for the FOUR kilos of pig in the fridge. It's a lesser known cut, so less expensive, will be succulent and last us for many many meals- or at least one great meal with friends.

Join me on my soap box next time for "Why the tuna in your sandwich is like eating elephant".

Tartiflette

2009-12-30T20:57:00.001Z

Is it cold where you are? Are you hungry? Do you have a small mountain of French cheese in your fridge?

You DO!?

Excellent. You should make a tartiflette for dinner then. You should probably eat it with little gerkins and balsamic caramelised onions and a crisp apple cider.

A tartiflette appears to be a dish of fried potatoes, pig bits and Reblochon cheese, but since the cheese choice is apparently the result of a trade union attempting to increase market share I think you can (and I did) use whatever delicious melty type cheese you have available. Except that mozzarella that you use for pizzas. Ew. Please don't put rubber cheese on this. Do that much for me.

Tonight's tartiflette was brought to you by Diana Henry's Roast Fig, Sugar Snow: Food to Warm the Soul. It also provided the recipe for our Christmas Goose (six kilos of bird with a brandied fig, chestnut and cranberry stuffing). It's a cold weather book that ought to be read under a blanket, preferably beside a fire.

This fed two of us with a bit leftover which we will nibble on for lunch...

1lb or baby potatoes, boiled til just tender then cooled and sliced

4oz of smoked bacon, cut in bigger than normal chunks (about four rashers- I know it was four ounces because I weighed it) (nerd)
1 small onion, roughly chopped
1 garlic clove, chopped
4 sage leaves, roughly torn

2 big dollops of Crème fraiche (you could probably omit this if you live in a sad place without it - or you could make your own!)
Half a camembert (or 4 ounces of melty cheese of your choice)

Turn the oven to about 190.

Fry the sliced potatoes until golden, season, then set aside in an oven proof pan.

In your potato pan melt a dollop of butter and fry your bacon until nicely coloured. Turn down the heat, add your onion and cook til just colouring. Add the garlic and sage and stir for a moment or two. Fold the bacon mixture gently into the golden potatoes.

Dollop the creme fraiche strategically on top, then lovingly place slices of your cheese over the potatoes. Pop in the oven til the cheese is melty and delicious- this may happen quickly so keep an eye on it!

Take it out and eat!

Hiatus

2009-11-03T07:50:00.002Z

C & I ate Kraft Dinner for dinner last night. No joke. We had two boxes, we made them and then ate them out of bowls while watching Mad Men. It was one of those nights.

But it made me think that C&C hasn't gotten any love lately. It's not that we haven't been cooking. We have. Killer marsala omelettes. Apple dishes galore. Lots. But we haven't been photographing anything and we've been eating everything before we get a chance to type up its story.

What I'm saying is, things have been busy. And will probably continue to be busy for some time. So we'll be back later. In the meantime if you need us, email.

We'll get back to you shortly.

Lemon Zucchini Pizza

2009-07-10T16:15:00.006+01:00

I've been making the same pizza dough recipe for eons. When I still lived at my parents I watched Mario Batali on his show Molto Mario and he made pizza dough and I took it to heart, made it, loved it and made it my own.

But I've recently been given Jamie Oliver's Italy and I decided to go crazy and follow Jamie's pizza dough recipe to a T. Except I halved it.

I followed Smitten Kitten's inspiration for the lemon-zucchini topping (adding some roasted garlic to the goats cheese) and voila- lunch!

The new dough was fabulous, crispy edges, nice bite. I love the addition of semolina to the regular white flour. A winner. Jamie's pizza dough FTW!

12 oz. white flour
3/4 cup semolina flour
1/2 tablespoon fine sea salt

Just over a cup of warm water
1 tablespoon sugar
1/8 oz yeast

Combine the first three ingredients in your main bowl. Combine the last three ingredients, stir and let sit and watch the magical bubbles of yeast.

Make a well in the center of your flour and add the yeasty water. Start mixing with a fork. When it gets too difficult, get your hands in and mix and pull and knead the dough to a soft spring warm ball of luscious smelly dough. Let the dough rest for 15 minutes, covered on the counter.

Split the dough in two and roll out each pizza. Let sit for another 15 minutes, add your toppings and bake it in a ferociously hot oven on a fancy pizza stone for about ten minutes.

Adam's BBQ

2009-07-08T19:21:00.002+01:00

Adam had a BBQ last weekend. I stressed about what to bring. I mean, we don't get to BBQ that often, so it had to be good. But it also had to be eatable with a bunch of strange people in a backyard, so I couldn't exactly go get steaks or do burnt aubergine.

So I made kebabs. Fancy ones. With rosemary sticks from the balcony. I've always wanted to do that. They look fancy and automatically special and the frangrance of the roasted rosemary was gorgeous.

Rump steak cubed and marinated in lemon zest, garlic, sage and olive oil.

Before

Cooking

We ate them in pita bread with salt and pepper chips and beer. A proper BBQ.

Mushrooms on Toast

2009-07-05T20:17:00.003+01:00

I'm in love with Skye Gyngell. If I ever meet her I'm sure I'll be flustered and stuttering like a tween at a Twilight movie event when Robert goes through the crowd and like, totally, almost touches my hand. (For the record I thought Twilight was crap.)

Anyways. Focusing. Skye. A Year in my Kitchen. Everything I've made has been beautiful and a perfect seasonal expression of love and the Way Things Ought To Be.

We ate this back in March. Her recipe is called Morels on Toast. Mine is called Mushrooms on Toast, because I didn't get morels. We're in a recession here people!

Mushrooms, crème fraîche, lemon, mustard and parsley on chewy garlic rubbed bread. Delicious.

I love this book. Seriously. Broad beans with mint, ricotta and crisp Parma ham. Crab salad with nam jim. Pan fried salmon with wild garlic (which spawned a short obsession as we ate wild garlic leaves with everything for awhile). Mackerel fillets with roasted tomatoes and horseradish cream (C's new favourite way to eat his favourite fish). Lobster curry with tamarind, roasted coconut, ginger and coriander (made with still expensive monkfish).Baked aubergines with tomatoes, tarragon and crème fraîche. All love.

Italian Duck with Fennel Risotto

2009-07-03T19:57:00.001+01:00

We ate this some time ago. It was rather lovely, subtle fennel permeating throughout. If I could remember exactly how I'd prepared it we might try it again.

Hm. Must remember to write things down with more detail...

Saturday Supper Strawberry Shortcake

2009-06-28T20:28:00.007+01:00

C indulges me. In alot of things.

So when I said I wanted to make strawberry shortcake with the strawberries he merely nodded and went about his business, as I expected him to do. BUT. He didn't know what to expect. The Strawberry Shortcake that he knew was the one his sister played with and who is trademarked by Hallmark.

So he was rather pleased when I put this before him for dinner on Saturday night.

Simple, light and airy cakes (thin ones- I don't like them thick) still slightly warm from the oven. Sliced strawberries with a touch of vanilla sugar and a drop or two of balsamic vinegar. And ice cream. Not whipped cream. Ice cream.

Summer on a plate.

And yes, it was dinner. We're the grown ups now. We make our own rules.

Tart Tart Pie

2009-06-10T21:56:00.000+01:00

When C & I moved to London 18 months ago, we left a lot of stuff behind. Books, sofas, daleks. But most importantly, kitchen stuff. We gave away, made friends take and sent to storage all manner of kitchen necessities that we had acquired while living in Toronto. Not that we came with nothing. Oh no. C & MM laughed, pointed and ridiculed me for the random things I insisted that we bring. One cooling rack (also serves as a trivet!), one decent knife (can't chop an onion with a Swiss Army knife), Riedel O wine glasses (I heart them- thanks Ebot/Gnomily!), et al. I'm so pleased I dragged it all here. Nothing has gone to waste.

Anyways, we've since started to repopulate our kitchen with even lovelier things, but I've been lacking certain baking implements, namely a pie plate and tart tin. I don't know why it's been so difficult to locate a pie plate. I thought England invented pie? Isn't it a traditional end to a roast beef with Yorkshire pudding and gravy dinner? Shouldn't there be a pie shop on every corner? And tart tins? The ones with removal bases? Why can't I find them everywhere?

Sigh. I finally tracked both pieces of kitchen love down in a lovely kitchen store called Gill Wing in Angel. I should, perhaps specify that I tracked down appropriate versions. There were others but they weren't quite what I wanted. If you're going to bake love you need to have love bakeware. Right?

So! First off I made C's favorite - apple pie. It tasted great. It looked … well, the pie plate looked great. But sadly we ate the whole thing too fast for a photo. And really, do you need a recipe or photo for an average apple pie? I didn't think so.

However! The next week I decided to inaugurate the Tart Tin with the Chez Panisse Almond Tart care of David Leibovitz. I've wanted to make this since David posted it on his blog. But I've never owned a Tart Tin with a removal base. But now I do. And life just got that much better.

Here it is.

Isn't it beautiful? It wasn't perfect, I'm no pastry chef (YET!) but it was delicious and satisfying to make. I will definitely be making it again.

This week I decided to go with a more traditional crust and tart. A Pear and Frangipane Tart. The crust and I were having some difficulties so I tore it up and flung part of it on the table, which then splattered across the room. After a certain amount of swearing, fridge time and patience (and more swearing) the crust came together. Not quite as beautifully as I'd hoped (you mean second time STILL doesn't make me a pastry chef?) but delicious nonetheless.

They are so satisfying to make! So very homey but elegant and accomplished at the same time. Now I need further inspiration. Which are the most delicious, loveliest tarts? Which should I make next? Suggestions? Requests?

One kilo of chorizo and monkfish

2009-06-07T20:29:00.005+01:00

On a lovely Sunday, after the flower market and a walk through Victoria Park, I went to the butcher. Not just the butcher, the Ginger Pig Butcher. A place where I feel 100% comfortable buying (and eating) meat that is love, beautifully packaged and lovingly tended. I was going to buy a chicken to roast, maybe some bacon rashers and that was about it. But, it being Sunday and they being closed Monday, they were having a sale. A sausage sale. A kilo of sausage for £6.50. Now, I love chorizo. And I love a good deal. And really, I'd be losing money by not buying the kilo of sausage.

So I bought my chicken. And a kilo of chorizo.

I am the type of shopper who normally buys just what I need. I think the most chorizo I've ever purchased was three solitary sausages. Now I lugged home a kilo- which, for your information, is about 12. A dozen chorizo sausages all for myself. I was giddy with delight.

Thank god we have a freezer.

While C has been away I've not been cooking, or eating terribly well. Lentils and rice most night, supplemented by copious bowls of oatmeal (until I ran out of oats and was too lazy to go to the store and buy more). So at the market the day before I had decided to treat myself and buy a chunk of monkfish for my dinner.

Monkfish & Chorizo for One

1 onion, sliced in half moons and lovingly caramelised
1 chorizo, chopped into chunks
1 piece of monkfish for one

Once the onion was brown and ever so soft, I threw the chorizo chunks in the pan and let them brown, oozing out spicy sausage juice. Then the monkfish, cooked to perfection in the chorizo oil, then served on a bed of salad greens with the chorizo and onion on top.

Hardly even a recipe but so good.

A lunch to take pride in

2009-06-06T16:05:00.003+01:00

I just had one of those meals where you sit down at the table and look at the plate before you and feel incredibly pleased with yourself.

It wasn't anything particularly special. Just a plate thrown together. Herb salad from the pots on the balcony, toasted nuts from the jar in the cupboard, a dollop of muhammara (my condiment du jour), some bread and grilled halloumi.

But the inspired combination and prettiness of everything on my plate brought me great pleasure.

Ottolenghi for Lunch

2009-05-18T15:52:00.003+01:00

Have I mentioned my love of Ottolenghi? I'm sure I have. I'm slowly introducing all my London friends to its wonders, either my dragging them to the Belgravia branch for lunch or to Islington for brunch or experimenting on them at home.

I love the cookbook. Heart it. It makes me feel confident and everything I have made EVERYTHING has turned out beautifully and made me feel like a competent, even fantastic chef.

This was Sunday lunch a month or so ago. Beef & lamb meatballs baked in tahini and covered with parsley and lemon zest.
Kosheri. I've made this numerous times since. It's rice, lentils & vermicelli noodles with caramelised onions, cinnamon and a spicy tomato sauce. It makes mountains and is one of my favourite things to eat for lunch.

Roasted aubergine, pomegranate seeds and basil with saffron yogurt sauce. Surprisingly simple and so lovely. I love saffron and whenever I use it the dish feels just a little bit special.

I've made about 30 items from the cookbook so far. It is love.

Salt

2009-05-10T16:04:00.000+01:00

One of the things I love about living in London is that sea salt is just sea salt and is cheap enough that it isn't a special item, to be used sparingly. It's just salt.

When my mom visited me in Toronto a few years ago we found Malden Sea Salt at the St Lawrence Market. It was stupidly expensive but mom bought us both a box and I used it (thriftily) and thought it very special. Fast forward to Tesco and it's cheap! Love it.

Incidentally the website is actually really interesting. Check it out.

Chickpea Fries

2009-05-03T22:09:00.002+01:00

So, I think my photographer is on strike.

It's not like I haven't been cooking. It's not like some of the meals weren't beautifully plated on my sage green dishes from Vintage Heaven. They weren't all beautiful, to be sure, but surely some of them were? Surely.

Sigh. Guess not.

In light of that I have a few options. Let the blog languish until the walkout ends, renegotiate the terms and conditions or slog on without photos.

No photos it is.

So. Chickpea fries. So odd. I first saw them here and thought I can make those. But the recipe isn't exactly clear. Water. Chickpea flour. 2-1. But if you read the notes it's not clear which is the 2 and which is the 1. It could work either way. It could flop either way. So which way is it? Not sure so I made both.

And it turns out C liked them both. In fact, I rather think he liked the 'wrong' ones best.

Experiment I

1 cup water
1/2 cup chickpea flour

Whisk together. Add some ground pepper, salt and olive oil. Cook, stirring constantly until the dough turns into a ball. Remove from heat and punch out on plate so that it's relatively flat. Chill. Realise that this looks nothing like the custard promised in Bittman's recipe. Refuse to be defeated, or throw something out. Continue with recipe. Cut into frie-like sticks and pan fry. Sprinkle with salt and eat as a snack whilst C prepares thai fishcakes (excellent).

Experiment II

Make dip: one finely chopped onion and 8 cloves of garlic, gently cooked in olive oil over low low lowest of low heat until golden and fragrant. Squish and mix with salt and pepper into Greek Yogurt. Set aside.

1 cup chickpea flour
2 cups water

Whisk til smooth. Add pepper, salt and a glug of olive oil. Turn heat on low and mix like crazy with a spoon (not a whisk it will get glumpy. Glumpy is the technical term. Look it up.) until the batter is the consistency of thick pancake batter. Pour it quickly into your cooling pan (I used a roasting pan with baking paper in it) and leave it to cool and firm up in the fridge. An hour or so later, take it out, cut into shapes (If I'd had cookie cutters I'd have used them here) and fry in olive oil until goldeny- burnt. Eat with prepared dip.

Verdict?
Experiement I was dry and almost cracker like. Experiment II was definitely what Bittman had in mind- custardy inside- and quite delicious. C liked both but my clear favorite was II. Will definitely make these again. Especially as I have more chickpea flour and not many more uses for it.

Apple Weakness

2009-02-12T22:33:00.000Z

If you wanted to catch a Design Monkey named C the best way to do it would be to combine apples and cinnamon. Bake these in the oven with a crumble top and he will walk right into your trap.

Fried Chickpeas & Sage

2009-02-04T20:06:00.002Z

This was a Chowhound recipe that arrived in my inbox and that sat there for a long time until some random Saturday when we needed a snack.

Yum.

Chorizo & Cannellini Bean Crostini

2009-02-02T13:50:00.004Z

You know the roasted red pepper and cannellini bean crostini I made? I had left over lemony bean paste. So I fried up some chorizo and made chorizo and cannellini bean crostini with rocket for lunch.

I was impressed.

Tickle(me)more with Drunken Lentils

2009-01-25T16:59:00.007Z

Is fennel in season right now? I know the first rhubarb is showing up. But I don't know if fennel is particularly in season and that's why it's been on my mind or if it's something else...

I cooked the Puy lentils in my usual manner but instead of a glug or so of wine my hand slipped (and there was more in the bottle than I thought) and I poured in about a half a cup- hence the drunken lentils. Atop the boozy legumes was a bulb of roasted fennel with parmesan cheese and Ticklemore cheesefrom Broadway Market. Simple and lovely dinner for a Thursday night.

Drunken Lentils

One onion, chopped
A shallot or two, chopped
Two cloves of garlic, chopped

Herbs (either a bushy spring of rosemary or a few twigs of thyme)- sometimes destemed and chopped, other times lazily thrown in in one piece)

About a half cup or so of red wine (or white if you were going with thyme)

One cup of rinsed Puy lentils

Fry the onion, shallot and garlic until they start to colour and begin to stick to the bottom of the pan. Add the herbs and then deglaze with the wine. Add the rinsed shallots and two cups of stock/water. Bring to a boil and simmer for 25 minutes until tender.

Roasted Red Pepper & Cannellini Crostini

2009-01-18T22:37:00.005Z

Oh god. The title isn't long enough to describe what we had for dinner. It should read 'roasted & marinated red pepper and garlic with lemony cannellini bean paste crostini'. Even that doesn't really begin to explain to you how good dinner was.

The recipe is, again, from Ottolenghi. I am cooking my way through this book. As should you. Everything I have made has been stellar. And distinctive. There is a definitive style to their cooking but it really works with where I've been wanting to take my own cooking. (Think Claudia Roden, Crazy Water, Pickled Lemon, Moro)

So. Go buy the book. Then marinate your roasted red peppers in balsamic vinegar, thyme, sugar and olive oil. Puree some freshly cooked cannellini beans with lemon, garlic, olive oil and plenty of salt. Top with green onions.

Eat and rejoice that food is so damn good.

Demi Gourgeres

2009-01-18T22:24:00.005Z

When I was a kid I made choux pastry with my mom and we filled them with all manner of lovely sweet things - custard, whipping cream, chocolate mousse, et al. It seems to me now that I loved making them then because they were cute, delicious and infinitely moreish.

So when David Lebovitz made a savory version called gourgeres for a post New Years Eve drinks partay at his (no doubt lovely and welcoming) flat in Paris, I was besotted and decided that I had to make them. I had forgotten how much I liked making choux pastry. (It's very satisfying for some reason.)

Anyways, I was not having a partay (maybe I should have - anyone want to do a wine and gourgeres evening in East London? call me!)and, there being only two of us, I made half his recipe. Which was relatively easy to do, measurement wise. David's makes 30. SO, mine should have made 15. Right? Right.

Except in my tired brain I thought - half the amount of ingredients. Should make them half the size. Which made topping them with extra cheese slightly more difficult! But they were delicious all the same and we ate them all.

London Food Favorites

2009-01-18T14:37:00.004Z

top ten list of four

I appreciate when food bloggers have a top ten list, or a list of favorites. I regularly check when I'm looking for dining out inspiration. So here is my list of London favorites. These are the places we go to again and again, the places I want to take friends when they come to visit Leah-London.

There's only four of the top of my head. But I expect the list will grow. But these five are solid.

1. Arancina - Italian in Bayswater. Owned by the friend of a friend they have fabulous everything. But my absolute favorite, must-have every time we go is their escargot in a tomato-fennel-pernod sauce. Amazing delicious and so unique.

2. Prince Arthur - Just north of London Fields. This is our local, that takes us a twenty minutes walk, past five other completely suitable pubs. But this one is lovely and warm with great food- green olives with mint, basil and lemon; deep fried jam sandwich with clotted cream ice cream; oysters; great chips. Love on a Sunday.

3. Ottolenghi - Is there nothing they can't do? I've got the cookbook and everything I've made has been brilliant. Their brunch/lunch menu continually surprises and delights me - and even though getting a table at the Islington branch is a bit mad, I heart them.

4. Tayyabs - Tucked behind a mosque and a synagogue just off of Whitechapel, Tayyabs is crazy busy. Ridiculously long cues that wind through the restaurant, an element of chaos. Fluffly naan, killer lamb chops, amazing lassi. Bring your own booze. Super.

Livestock's Long Shadow

2009-01-17T14:52:00.002Z

Long ago I signed up to some weekly newsletter for some random farmer's market in California. I like the sidebar that tells me what's newly in season every week.

This week there was the following article, which I want everyone to read it.

Mark Bittman's "less-meat-atarianism" 101

Editor's note: At CUESA we believe that local meat from humanely raised, pasture-based animals is a sustainable choice. By expanding our awareness of just how many resources go into a single piece of meat, we are more likely to make conscious choices and to appreciate more fully the meat we do eat.

Mark Bittman wants you to eat less meat. In his typically disarming way, The Minimalist — as he's referred to in his New York Times column, as well as online, where he writes a blog and appears in short cooking videos — will dish it to you straight.

At a recent appearance at the Ferry Building’s Book Passage, while promoting his new book Food Matters, Bittman told a room full of fans: “You can’t be an environmentalist unless you care about how much meat you eat.”

Bittman is well known for his books How to Cook Everything and How to Cook Everything Vegetarian. Food Matters expands on his idea that “if you buy your own food and cook your own food, you tend to put much better things in your mouth than if you don’t.” Thanks in part to a realization he had after reading the UN report called Livestock’s Long Shadow, and to his decision to tackle some of his own health issues head on, The Minimalist is now advocating an even larger shift. In the vein of Michael Pollan's now well-known creed, "Eat food, not too much, mostly plants," Bittman has the potential to reach a broad audience of home cooks who may have not read Pollan's books or seriously consider their food choices from a sustainability perspective.

Here’s how Bittman breaks it down: industrial livestock production accounts for 18% (1/5) of the greenhouses gases currently being emitted and ranks above transportation as a contributing factor to climate change.

The average American eats a half pound of meat a day, which accounts for 1/6 of the world’s livestock consumption. As the developing world begins to eat more meat and countries such as China take on behavior similar to ours, the projected global demand for meat will be 120 billion animals a year (or twice what we currently consume) by 2050.

“I know statistics are numbing," says Bittman, "and these numbers may seem like no big deal, until you consider that it takes 70% of all the available farmland in the world to produce the meat we’re eating now – whether it's land the actual livestock take up, or it’s being used to grow the corn and soy that feed livestock.” And, he points out, if demand does go up to 120 billion animals, you’d need an impossible 140% of the world's arable land.

“The land just isn’t there,” says the chef-turned-environmental-advocate, adding that meat production can’t get any more efficient (“and the efficiency we’re experiencing now comes at the expense of animals’ well-being"). Bittman also makes a comparison to Americans' dependence on fossil fuels. “The resources aren’t there in order to grow unless people change their behavior. So we have to — for lack of a better word — conserve.”

Bittman himself now eats a vegan, whole grain-based diet for the first two meals of the day and allows himself to eat "whatever he wants" for the third. In other words, the recipes in Food Matters are the direct product of his own at-home experiments. The book is also full of concrete suggestions as to how to accommodate a more plant-based diet. He recommends making a frittata, for instance with a much a higher ratio of vegetables to eggs than average. Or a spaghetti sauce “spiked” with a little meat for flavor, but loaded with vegetables. He also encourages his readers to get to know a few delicious ways to prepare beans and other legumes, so as to incorporate them into weekly meal planning in place of some meat-based dishes. See Bittman’s whole grain granola recipe here.

Most importantly, Bittman is asking his audience to think incrementally, and to start where they’re comfortable. “If we ate nine billion animals in the US next year instead of 10 billion, that’s still a significant change,” he says. As for his own love of meat, Bittman says: “I’ll never stop eating animals, but it is time we stopped raising them industrially and stopped eating them thoughtlessly.”

Made Bittman's granola.

Leah's Sweet Potato Gratin

2009-01-12T13:41:00.002Z

Awhile ago I made the Sweet Potato Gratin from Ottolenghi. It was great. A definite 'make again'. So I was at home myself the other night with a lone sweet potato and I thought I'd make that for dinner.

Only I improved it.

I started it off the same way, roasting in the oven with tin foil. But for the second step I fried up some bacon and sauteed some mushrooms and garlic which I added to the cream that gets poured over the sweet potatoes for the second step. So you've got creamy sweet potato goodness with garlicy mushrooms and bacon.

Awesome.

I love that the Ottolenghi recipes are so approachable and yet once I've made them the first time I have the confidence to play with them. And that is fantastically fun cooking!

Bärchewurst

2009-01-12T07:28:00.005Z

I've always been somewhat disturbed by mortadella. Despite its Italian roots (which would imply it is most likely delicious), I can't help but feel like it's unnatural, chemical-laden and that it's essentially the European equivalent of baloney. I realize that's probably a controversial statement, but then a friend delivers this into our hands:

Creepy bear-shaped mortadella? Yeah, I think my point is valid.

Not Turkey

2009-01-01T13:22:00.007Z

My mother makes a fantastic Christmas spread every year. The menu is utterly dependable (much to her chagrin) and always delicious. It's also her thing, and her tradition (albeit for us). It is sadly not appropriate for two people celebrating Christmas far from their families in eerily quiet London. I can't do Christmas like my mom does- and I don't think I should try. But she does have a reputation for fantastically fabulous New Years Eve meals. So in the spirit of that, I made Christmas dinner for C and I.

And. It. Was. AWESOME.

Not particularly difficult (I think it took me an hour to make, which was good as it was 10:00 pm before we had called everyone and were ready to start dinner), not a decadent, heaping amount of food. Lovely beautiful flavours that sang. Quite possibly one of the best meals I've ever made.

Roasted red peppers.

Balsamic braised shallots.

Crispy potatoes.

Lemon mustard aioli.

And a gorgeously tender, succulent beef tenderloin.

Oh god. And a special bottle of Cote du Rhone.

Back to Berlin - The Food Post

2008-12-13T21:55:00.001Z

I lived in Berlin for a year as an exchange student. Long ago. The wall was gone but Berlin was still finding itself and rebuilding. The whole city was under construction. Potsdamer Platz had the most cranes of any site in Europe.

Fast forward to my 2009 birthday weekend and a four day jaunt to the city where I first began to understand wine, had (almost) unlimited freedom and was exposed to more theater, museums and art than a girl from Red Deer would have ever thought possible. There is nothing like being 16 and in a foreign city to make you grow up.

So C & I went back to this (for me) mythical place. We had Italian with friends of a friend (Thanks T&K!), who then took us to Ron Telesky Canadian Pizza. Sadly the restaurant was closed and we weren't able to sample the Gourmet Canadian pizza with chili maple syrup. Just one more reason to go back, I guess!

Ate Turkish pizzas in Spandau (just like I remembered - the pizzas,not Spandau, that has changed SO much.) Had beers in the Brauhaus, just like the old days.

And then. Then we went for my birthday dinner. And oh what a dinner it was!

Pasta Divina. A tiny restaurant with maybe ten tables. The (rather good looking) chef in an open kitchen.

We knew we wanted a bottle of wine. There's no wine list. You tell the lady what you're going to order and she ponders the wall of bottles, picks one and yells at the chef who gives his opinion. We ended up drinking a Spatburgunder - a German pinot noir. It was surprising and lovely and delicious.

Reading the menu was a bit of a challenge. Though I got a compliment on my Germen (woot - still got it!) I wasn't entirely sure just what Gansekase (goose cheese?) or Rehrucker were but we ordered them anyway. (I think it was David Lebovitz who wrote that every time he ended up with something unexpected on his plate he considered it a language lesson.)

First plate: Artichokes in a gentle vinaigrette. Goose cheese, it turns out, is pate. And this goose cheese is a revelation of richness. Absolutely divine. Possibly the best pate I've ever had. Definitely the best goosecheese ever. ;)

Main: Feta and sundried tomato ravioli. Simple but simply decadent. C had roasted venison with shallots and a chestnut puree. It was the special. We weren't sure what it was going to be. I didn't know half the words.

Dessert: A warm brownie with mango chili sauce. (my mouth is watering as I write and I'm suddenly peckish.)

Dinner was an event. It was perfect for my birthday, perfect for me and perfect for a weekend in Berlin.

Street Food in Stockholm

2008-11-18T17:44:00.002Z

I can't even spell the damn thing. Let alone say it.

Tunnbrödsrulle

Stockholm is lovely. Surprising, sunset coloured buildings. Polite, nice people. (This is big, I live in London at the moment.) Gorgeously designed household goods shops. And Tunnbrödsrulle.

We were in Stockholm for about 48 hours for a friend's 30th birthday. We ate meatballs and lingonberry sauce, roasted reindeer and sikrom (creamy fish salad of deliciousness). But the absolute culinary highlight of the trip was the Tunnbrödsrulle.

A tortilla like flatbread is laid out and dollops of creamy mashed potato are laid down the center - a bed of fluff for the hotdog, condiments and some salad. We did not get the shrimp salad. (I had had some at breakfast and wasn't a fan. Aside - I also had smoked reindeer for breakfast.)

Seriously awesome. So good and so funny and wrong.

Perfect Saturday in London- the whole list!

2008-10-29T22:58:00.002Z

A few weeks ago, Krista from Londonelicious put the call out to London bloggers: What's your idea of a perfect Saturday in London? The American girl who likes food and London but not cooking wined and dined her way around town and wrote about it here in the post that kicked it all off.

Others quickly followed, posting their idea of a perfect Saturday in London. So whether you've always lived in London, or whether you're just visiting for the weekend and want to experience London as a local, here's some inspiration for you and all of your Saturdays. Now get yourself out there and explore!

ML at SPAstic, Tales from a London Spa takes you around South Kensington and Notting Hill for a culture-filled day that ends in Holland Park.

Su-Lin at Tamarind & Thyme gets some culture AND shopping in as she trolls central London, with the riches she imagines.

Two entries from Mini-et-moi, a great site for modern mums in London. Sarah takes in Marylebone and The London Transport Museum while Michelle explores the South Bank, tots in tow.

Gourmet Chick hits all the foodie haunts--Ottolenghi, high tea at The Ritz, and Borough Market.

Danielle at Bloody Brilliant starts with a full English and then heads east to explore Brick Lane and Spitalfields.

Over at Gourmet Larder, Gregory begins his day in Borough and then works his way south through Clapham and Vauxhall.

Leah from Curiosity and The Cupcake arrives at Broadway Market bright and early and then enjoys a leisurely stroll through Victoria Park and east London.

Christine over at If Music Be The Food of Love has a musical slant to her day as she explores Hampstead and hits the town with her idol.

Blogger Priyanka begins at Cafe au Lait in Brixton and ends her day at Meson De Felipe and The Beehive in Borough.

Another blogger choosing to start around Borough Market. Helen at Food Stories kicks off her Saturday with a visit to Tower Bridge, wanders over to Borough and then ends her day with a visit to Shunt and by checking out Dinner in The Sky.

Lizzie of Hollow Legs is very busy geographically and takes us through Blackheath, North Greenwich, Trafalgar Square, Belgravia, Shoreditch, Whitechapel, and then back to Shoreditch.

Charles of London guide Tipped.co.uk and his own blog, Grumblemouse, spends his perfect day in Islington, The City, Borough Market, Greenwich, and Shoreditch.

And finally, new-to-the-scene Liz (of Liz Does London, not to be confused with Lizzie above) hits Chelsea, Hyde Park, Notting Hill, and Parson's Green.

I think that's everyone. Thanks to all the great bloggers who contributed their perfect Saturday. Please feel free to republish this post on your own blog and add your own perfect Saturday...in London, or elsewhere.

Cold Fish in Venice

2008-10-28T21:27:00.001Z

I have been very fortunate in that I have spent a great deal of time in Italy and have had some amazing and life defining culinary experiences there. Carbonara in Rome. Chicken liver crostini in Tuscany. Porcini in Orvieto. Pesto fish in Riomaggiore. Heaven in Pietrapertosa. The list is long.

But Venice? Never truly earth shattering. Never bad. I mean, it's still Italy, but never fantastic fabulous.

So when C & I went at the end of October I was adamant that I would discover what it was Venice traditionally ate and we would eat it and it would be glorious.

What I discovered was cold marinated fish. Sarda in saor. Sardines and onions marinated in wine, vinegar, sugar and saffron. Served cold. It is a sour/sweet cold fish dish.

We ate it first as part of a mixed plate of ciccheti (Venetian for savory snacks in bars) and it was good. Interesting, unusual. A good 'let's give it a try once' type thing. But when I ordered it again (kind of by mistake, I wasn't really reading the menu or thinking properly) C decided that really, he didn't like it all that much. I have to agree.

So. I'm still waiting for my Venetian Food Experience that knocks my socks off.

p.s. Just to be clear, so that i don't come off as a spoiled brat- the rest of Venice was lovely and wonderful. I heart Italy.

Perfect Saturday

2008-10-15T23:37:00.004+01:00

Londonelicious doesn't cook and consequently eats out a lot. I admit I'm a little envious at times. Recently she posted her Perfect Saturday in London and invited the citizens of the blogosphere to share their best days. Here's my contribution.

This account takes for granted a few details: the weather is lovely, we walk a lot and we never get too full. It also makes me realise that I am very excited to read other people's Perfect Days for inspiration...

My Perfect Saturday in London

Time Unknown. I open one eye to see what the light in the bedroom looks like. I judge it must be at least 9:00 and I slip out of bed and stumble quietly into the living room to find a clock. It's still misty outside, London still unseen behind the blanket of fog. I check the clock. I realise I have no inner sense of time and stumble back into bed for a few more winks. (C asked me recently if you could catch a few winks or if it had to be 40 - I think you catch a few and leave it at that.)

Actually 9:00. I crawl out of bed and get ready to go. This being the Perfect Saturday both C&I are showered, dressed and awake (in that order) by 9:30 and we walk up the street to Broadway Market.

At the market we hum and haw about what to eat for breakfast but settle on sharing a galette from the cute French girls and a samosa from the lovely lady of Gujarati Rasoi.

We buy some groceries (bread, cheese from Brian and the girl from Ontario, a sausage from the man with the chorizo - I want to follow the Perfect Saturday with a Perfect Sunday) and go get coffee from Jason. It being a Perfect Day he has something new and exciting - bright and fruity, perhaps? - for us to try. It is Perfect.

Wandering home with our bags full of grocery love I stop and get a mini salted caramel cupcake from Violet. It's a two bite cupcake and I share it with C but he lets me have the bigger bite.

We drop our groceries off and wander along the canal to Victoria Park. Peckish again we have chickpea burgers and Curious Colas at the Pavilion and laugh at the puppies and the babies and the ducks. The heron who lives across the pond catches a fish right in front of us. We wander through the streets of East London, along the way I pick up some ridiculously cute vintage dress and we admire the art galleries and imagine the home we would build to house our art collection. I bring up random facts that are perfectly relevant to the topics at hand.

After wandering through Borough Market (where we buy more delights in preparation for our Perfect Sunday) we find a spot, oh, say the Oxo Tower?, which is quiet and devoid of any mobbing crowds. We sit and admire the gorgeous view of London while sipping champagne cocktails. After too many champagne cocktails, I am slightly tipsy and very goofy so we hop in a cab and trundle home so I can change into something fabulous before heading out to dinner somewhere decadent, expensive and delicious that I've been dying to try - maybe Les Trois Garcons?

Mini Sweet Potato Gratin

2008-10-12T22:47:00.002+01:00

I first read about Ottolenghi on Heidi's blog. She had the cookbook and I thought it sounded good - a cookbook I might pick up for myself. And then I realised it was also a restaurant. In LONDON. I was/am tickled to know that I found out about a London eatery through a blogger in San Francisco. Oh Internet I Heart You. Sometimes.

It turns out that Ottolenghi was the secret location that my friend A wanted to introduce me to. So I would have found it eventually. But still.

The restaurant on Upper Street is somewhat manic. I wonder if they realised what they were doing when the designed it - the food is all placed (on beautiful platters) up at the front where you queue for a seat and where take-away takers pile in to grab their to go boxes. There is no rhyme or reason between the queuers, the take-aways or the servers. Madness ensues and envelops you until you sit down at the long white table and finally decide on your meal. Which is always delicious, and usually inventive in some, well, inventive way.

I quite like it. If you live in London, you should visit it. If you're visiting London, I'll probably take you there.

At any rate, I did end up buying the cookbook (from Amazon and it arrived slightly scrunched which made me unhappy but returning it was too much of a hassle.). And so far I really like it - there are a ton of recipes I want to try. My only peeve with it (and most other recipe books) is that the serving amounts are almost always astronomical. Sweet potato gratin for SIX to EIGHT? If the only time I ever cooked was when I had enough guests to make these dishes I would never cook. Do you know how much is left over when you cook for two people the quantities designed for SIX TO EIGHT? I am not one of those people who can make a pot of chilli and then eat it all week. Please.

So I ended up making (and quartering) Danielle's (Mini) Sweet Potato Gratin. And it was simple and creamy and good and served with a simple green salad made a nice, light dinner for C & I. With no leftovers.

1 Sweet Potato (or a yam, which ever you think it is - I mean the orange one)
a sprig of two of sage
1 clove of garlic
2 glugs of olive oil
S&P

About 60ml of cream

Slice the potato into thin rounds. Chop up the garlic and the sage and toss with the olive oil, S&P and potato rounds. arrange in a roasting dish, overlapping each other. Roast for about 40 minutes. Pour the cream over and roast for another 20 minutes or so until the cream is browned and thick.

There's picture coming but C has a cold tonight. (C's Edit: Now with photo! Still have cold though.)

Lentil & Walnut Salad

2008-10-05T19:57:00.007+01:00

I picked up Nigella Express during the summer. Part of me didn't want to. It felt a little like she was responding to Delia's How to Cheat success, and maybe (just maybe) this book might ruin some of what I love about Nigella. But, I flipped through a friend's copy, and if you can ignore the calls for canned caramelised onions the book has some lovely, quick ideas.

Working, combined with an hour's commute (tube and a bus) mean that dinners have become much less involved than before. I absolutely rejoiced when, a few weekends ago, we had friends for dinner and I made a big Sunday dinner of meatloaf (don't knock it- it is fabulous), twice baked potatoes, minted mushy peas, spicy broccoli and cheesecake. I love cooking. I love food. I refuse to eat poorly just because I don't have enough time.

It's not even about eating poorly. I want to eat deliciously. All the time. I want to enjoy my rice crispies and cold milk in the morning as much as I love warm oatmeal and blueberries with maple syrup. I want to make macaroni and cheese the way my grandma did, and not reach for Kraft Dinner. It takes more time and effort but the result- oh the result!

I would rather spend an hour in the kitchen than an hour in front of the television. Food is worth it to me.

Having said that, I welcome any ideas that are quick and delicious. Because sometimes deliciousness on a weeknight turns into wine, cheese and crackers or wine and pizza from the Globe.

This afternoon's lunch was inspired by a recipe from Express. But I did not use canned lentils. That just sounds gross.

100g (I weighed them, see earlier post) green lentils, rinsed and cooked in plain boiling water til tender (about twenty minutes or so), then drained
50g walnut, toasted and broken up
one onion, diced and caramelised
Dressing
walnut oil
red wine vinegar
one luscious clove of roasted garlic
salt and pepper

Dress the lentils while still warm. Let cool to warmish, add the nuts and onions. Taste, it might need a bit more salt.

Serve with slices of bread and gentle grassy young goat's cheese. Sharing a glass of white burgundy would not be wrong. Not in the least.

Portion Control

2008-09-20T17:57:00.000+01:00

I have a digital scale that I got a year or two ago. It's pretty and one of the (many) kitchen items that I could not bear to part with when we moved to the UK.

I go through phases where I weigh things rather randomly - lemons, garlic, books, bags of flour to see if they really do contain 1 kilo...

Recently, I've started weighing portions - pasta, lentils... and I'm astounded to see that the suggested portion sizes on the packages are almost always bang on. And that I am absolutely terrible at guessing the correct amount of pasta needed for two servings.

How to eat a banana

2008-07-27T16:45:00.008+01:00

I don't like bananas. I don't like their texture, their taste or their smell. I dislike them in smoothies, or as fillers in juice. Peeling them grosses me out. I eat them occasionally because they're good for you. But I never like them. (Though I did like them in Peru. They were better there. Smaller.)

For the month of July C&I got an organic box from Growing Communities in Hackney. It has contained a variety of nice yummy things but it always, always contains at least three bananas.

The first week we ate them. Dutifully. The second week we ate them begrudgingly. The third week they sat on the counter and looked at me every morning and I just ignored them. Now it's the weekend of the fourth delivery of bananas and we have way too many of them and they are starting to get brown spots on them. And I cannot eat them with brown spots on them. I just can't. I'm not that grown up.

So this weekend I baked. On Saturday I made banana pancakes care of Nigella. (Verdict: Not bad, quite moist, but banana-y. Sang along to Jack Johnson's Banana Pancake song in my head. ) Today I made banana bread, inspired by Joy of Cooking but with extra bits of goodness (almonds and cinnamon). I still don't think I'll like it, but if I put enough nutella on it, it should be ok.

UPDATE: With enough nutella ANYTHING tastes good.

Pub Food at Home

2008-07-15T19:38:00.001+01:00

Since moving to the UK I have eaten quite a bit of pub food. Most of the time it's been delicious, 'gastro' pub food of quality and delight. Down in East Dulwich there's a little pub called The Florence that is lovely and delightful, bright and airy with great food and cherry beer. On one occasion I ate a steak and mushroom pie that wasn't really a pie at all since the pastry was sort of like a cap jauntily placed on top of the steaming goo of steak and mushrooms in a thick, savory gravy. Very good. And so, at home one rainy afternoon with a bit of left over steak from the night before, some mushrooms and a random bottle of Guinness, I made steak and mushroom pie.

Onions, sliced mushrooms, garlic and thyme sauteed lightly in butter and olive oil. When the mushroom juice started to come out I sprinkled about a tablespoon of flour over and let it cook in. Deglazed with a bit of beef stock (from a cube) and half a bottle of Guinness. Let it boil and bubble, thicken and reduce. Toss in the leftover steak from the night before (cooked but still pink) and let the flavours join together. Salt and pepper. Top with a round of simple pastry that you threw together while the mushrooms were cooking. Tada! Homemade pub food.

Pea & Broad Bean Smash

2008-07-12T22:31:00.003+01:00

I love peas. They are my favorite vegetable. One of the things I miss most about Canada is frozen Green Giant sweet summer peas.

It's summer and everyone is talking about broad beans. I've eaten them in restaurants but have never made them myself, so I asked the green grocer how to prepare them. He said he didn't really know- he hated them when he was a kid and hasn't tried them since. Hmm. Amusing but not terribly helpful.

So instead I start poking around in the recipe books piled on the couch. I have Jamie At Home out from the library. It's a rather cruel book for someone who lives in a tiny flat in the east end of London- all about the joys of growing your own vegetables (I killed my herbs earlier this year) and eating them. I ignore Jamie's somewhat self-righteous tone and look up broad beans. He has a recipe for pea and broad beans smash that I take as inspiration and (after taking some liberty with ingredients, ratios and instructions) we eat this for dinner.

Smash the following together. A mortar and pestle would be ideal. I got C to do it with the bottom of a glass. And then the rolling pin.

Half a package of fresh peas (leftover from the risotto the other night)
A big handful of broad beans (time consuming and disappointingly few after you've shelled them all!)
Half a bunch of mint
35 g of parmesan (we weighed it)

Add enough olive oil to make a paste. Add lemon juice (I used half), salt & pepper to taste. Gently toast some delicious bread, rub ever so lightly with a cut clove of garlic. Layer thinly sliced pieces of young goats cheese, then top with the pea mixture. Serve on the lovely olive board your mom bought you.

Essence of pea.

Sardine Sunday

2008-07-06T23:47:00.010+01:00

I decided I wanted bream for dinner, after its overwhelming success when my parents were here. We waited in line while the fish lady finished with the people in front of us and glanced over the various fish in front of us- didn't look like she had any bream (we were later than usual- managed to sleep in hurray!). I didn't want mackerel as we'd had that last week (simply grilled with a quinoa tabouli). So I pointed to one fish, asked "What's This?". Dover Sole, she replies, lovely like this and like that. Chris and I look at each other, shrug say, "sounds good" and then she pauses.

"It's also our most expensive fish."

Oh. How expensive?

"Twenty pounds a kilo."

(Mackerel is maybe half that.)

I think the look on our faces said that we were not going to be purchasing Dover Sole. So she suggested sardines. Three per person. Cheaper than mackerel. Oily omega threes.

Sardines are not anchovies. But they seem the same to me. I realize they're not - but still... So we buy six little sardines for £2.40. The fishlady chops their heads off for me.

Next day for lunch!

Jamie Oliver says that if you push the sides down around the back bone you can pull it out. I try it. You can! The little rib cages and bones are strangely beautiful and I keep bringing them to show C. I am extremely proud of myself. Not only am I making sardines, I am pulling their backbones out. I rock.

Jamie has a lovely recipe for sardines that requires a bunch of ingredients that I don't have and am too lazy to go down the stairs and to the corner to get. So I improvise.

I fry up the leftover onion and shallots from Friday's risotto and add some garlic and crushed fennel. Peel and seed four cherry tomatoes. One regular tomato would be faster and more efficient, but this is what I've got. A big handful of parsley, chopped. A sprinkling of cayenne. Three heaping tablespoons of pre-made breadcrumbs (I feel like a bad person admitting that I had prepared breadcrumbs in the house. I swear the eggs are free range!). Mixed together with some basil olive oil. A bit thrown on the bottom with some parsley stalks. A teaspoon inside each sardine, then rolled up. The rest thrown on top. Into a hot hot hot oven for ten minutes then taken out and eaten with warmed up pita.

Paired with a glass of lovely Italian white wine - a new one. So good. Such a good lunch. I made sardines - hurray!

A Simple Lunch

2008-05-24T18:17:00.000+01:00

The simplest of lunches – spoils from the market, served up minutes after arriving home. Fresh, crusty bread sliced thickly and served with tomatoes, fresh goat cheese and wild boar sausage.

And to finish: fresh blueberries.

Black Treacle

2008-05-21T18:22:00.003+01:00

I love these tins. I refuse to throw them out. I'm starting a collection. Soon I'll start taking them back to Canada as gifts and people will love me.