Mushrooms on Toast

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

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

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.

You are what you eat

If you opened your fridge to a stranger, what would it say about you?

Mine would say that I'm an alcoholic with penchant for cheese and random things in old Bonne Maman jars.

Photographer Mark Menjivar did an entire series on the premise. Find them here under Portfolio you are what you eat.

Tart Tart Pie

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?

Topsoil

From the Ethicurean:

Edible San Francisco contains this anonymous quotation: “Despite its artistic pretensions and its many accomplishments, humankind owes its existence to a six-inch layer of topsoil and the fact that it rains.”

One kilo of chorizo and monkfish

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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. Also try Nigella's Andy's Granola. It is the best, but a bit more work.

Leah's Sweet Potato Gratin

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

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

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

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

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!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

Freddie's Calzones

I read a lot of food blogs. I probably have 30 RSS feeds that update me of any action on the blog front. I don't actually read read them all- who has that much time, really? But I like to look at the headlines, see what's up and click through to posts that catch my fancy.

I always click through to The Great Vegetable Challenge.
Seriously, love the premise of this blog- get a kid to eat his vegetables by going through the alphabet and trying everything twice. They are trying vegetables I've always picked up and then put down in favour of something more familiar and ones I've never even heard of!

When it came to sweet potatoes they made fries (8 out of 10) and sweet potato calzones. Which sounded really good, and pretty easy and well, we had a sweet potato and so I made them for lunch one afternoon. And they were really good- a neat blend of flavours, sweet potato, salty cheese, herby pesto. Lovely.

Freddie's sister (who has great hair) has a recipe for asparagus twists that I'm going to try this weekend.

Market Vegetables

Saturdays are by far my favourite day here in London. Not only is it a day to spend traipsing about London, but it means a trip to Broadway Market (Leah's written about the market before). Once we've had a bite to eat, picked up bread, and had some brilliant coffee, we then decide what produce to buy. This is usually a random, higgledy-piggledy affair and involves us trying to figure out what we'll eat over the coming week. Needless to say, it's always interesting.

Absolutely beautiful, vibrant (and highly photogenic!), fresh rhubarb. I couldn't resist. Leah made crumble (one of my favourites) and delicate, little tarts. Sadly, rhubarb is quickly being replaced by English asparagus which has just come into season, but I'm hoping we'll find some more this Saturday.

A lovely, purple flowering broccoli which, sadly, was forgotten and rescued from the back of the fridge half-way through the week. Although not much worse for wear, it had lost some of its original crispness and as such, was eaten with a simple, lovely pasta. If anyone has suggestions on how to cook it, please leave a note in the comments.

Gorgeous, crusty cheese which was eaten with crackers, cornichons and bits of spicy salami. We typically end up browsing and grazing at the market's many food stalls, so this was the perfect snack once we'd come back from the market.

And lastly, luscious green beans. These were prepared simply and delicious, letting the flavour of the beans come through. Quickly blanched and then tossed them in a French mustard dressing. Brilliant.

A Simple Roast Eggplant

Came home on Thursday night to a fridge full of food. That doesn't happen very often because we're usually down to the dredges by mid week, anticipating the market on the weekend. Anyways, among the veggies was a lone, lovely eggplant.

I sliced it in half, did the salt rinse thing, then scored it quite deeply, covered it in olive oil and stuck slices of garlic in the cuts. Some sea salt, a hot oven til golden and tender, followed by a sprinkling of parmesan. We ate it standing around the stove and it was delicious.

Incidentally, Nigel Slater says that aubergine is the sexiest vegetable.

Naan

There is something incomparable about naan, that delicious, almost ubiquitous Indian bread. I've heard tales about people who make their own pan-fried variants at home, but I have always been skeptical. After all, proper naan is slapped onto the side of a tandoori oven and fished out with metal hooks of questionable hygenic standards.

One of the things I miss about Toronto is being able to buy President's Choice (a brand that is the equivalent of Tesco's Finest) naan from the local grocery store. I've been on the lookout for a substitute here in the UK, and I think I've found it. Sharwood's makes a fantastic mini-naan, with four to a package.

And the best part? Instead of heating it in the oven, you put it in the toaster. That's right: toaster naan.

Pad Thai

I am, all things considered, a pretty good good. (She writes modestly.) I can cook. I can follow a recipe. I can make things out of nothing. But very occasionally something goes wrong. I can count four things that were so bad I couldn't even eat them:

1. Pancakes- I mixed up baking soda and baking powder. They were disgusting. My dad still ate them. I was seven. They haunt me still.
2. Pumpkin and porcini soup- Living in Calgary with Karla and her five foot long, free roaming iguana named Monster. It was gloopy. And gross.
3. Parathas- these just didn't work out. They didn't look like they should. They were really heavy. Mike ate them anyway, bless him. We ended up going out of Springrolls.
4. Pad Thai - early in my relationship with C, pad thai was the first thing I screwed up so much it was unpalatable- note to self: fish sauce is salty, so you probably don't need to add salt.

(they all start with the letter 'p'- isn't that strange?)

Tonight I have redeemed myself. Tonight dinner was awesome and good and quick and easy and filling and cheap.

I made pad thai and it was good.

I've had this recipe bookmarked in my Make Me folder for ages and finally decided to make it tonight. It's not so much of a step by step recipe as it is a suggestion for how to achieve awesomeness in a bowl - and isn't that what we're all looking for?

Un-Peruvian Avocado

The day after we returned from our trek through the Andes to Choquequirao we ate breakfast in a decidedly un-Peruvian restaurant in Cuzco called Cicciolina's (after the Hungarian porn star). I can't remember what I ate but C had the loveliest of simple delicious breakfasts:

Half a perfect avocado on multigrain toast with a few pieces of crispy bacon, generous parmesan shavings and a simple balsamic vinaigrette.

That was in October 2007 and every time I pick up an avocado (like today, inspired by Shauna's post) I think of it...

About Curiosity & the Cupcake

Curiosity & the Cupcake is the name of the bookstore/bakery I would run if I wasn't so busy saving the world's archaeological heritage, helping to fix the UK's healthcare or getting overly excited about food policy.

It came about as C & I were wandering back from the St Lawrence Market in Toronto via the lovely  Nicholas Hoare bookshop while discussing our plans for the Italian espresso bar we'll have in our office (one day) and bemoaning the lack of a bakery in our neighborhood.

C&C would be about lovingly chosen books and a small, bespoke and ever-changing selection of baked deliciousness. We would have space for artists to hang their work, and cosy chairs where you could read and enjoy a proper (one size only) cappuccino or where you'd meet your friends (maybe we'd start a cookbook club?) for a snack.

It would never make a profit and it would be filled with love.

Instead I have this blog. Which will also never make a profit and be filled with love.

An Excellent Korma, Not Patak's

Patak's is a bit of an institution in Indian Cuisine. Ever since I can remember, my mother usually had one or two bottles of Patak's in the house – usually one was an Indian pickle (if you haven't ever had one, imagine a savoury, spicy relish made from mangoes, limes or carrots), and the other was a cooking sauce.

Since cooking Indian on my own, I've relied on Patak's for the same: a bottle of pickle, a bottle of cooking sauce. Their Vindaloo paste is phenomenal, and I swear by it, despite having made vindaloo from scratch on a number of occasions. So, I was pleased to see that Patak's offers a korma paste, as chicken korma is one of my favourite dishes.

Here's the thing though: Patak's chicken korma sauce isn't very good. In fact, it's poor. The sumptuous, rich flavours that inhabit a chicken korma are missing. I've tried using more paste than the directions call for, less paste, varied the simmering times, and so on. Nope. No good. The half used bottle in the photo above is almost certain to stay that way until we clean out the fridge.

In steps Madhur Jaffrey, the definitive Indian cook. She's another institution – I remember getting her huge, red cookbook out of the cupboard for my mother at least three times a week.

Madhur Jaffrey knows her korma. And it's beautifully quick, simple and delicious. I've cooked hers a number of times and made some changes.

Madhur Jaffrey's Chicken Korma, with Edits

2 cm piece fresh ginger, peeled and coarsely chopped
3 garlic cloves, peeled and coarsely chopped
3 tbsp vegetable oil
1 bay leaves
A small cinnamon stick
3 cardamom pods
1 clove
0.25 tsp black cumin seeds (or regular cumin seeds)
A small onion, peeled and finely chopped
1.5 tsp ground coriander
2 tsp ground cumin
200 ml (usually half a can) of tinned, diced plum tomatoes
4-5 chicken thighs skinned and cut into nice chunks
0.25 - 1 tsp chilli powder
A pinch of salt
1-2 tbsp single cream
250 ml water


Put the ginger, garlic and 3 tbsp water in a blender. Blend until you have a smooth paste. If you don't have a blender (we don't, despite L constantly pointing them out to me), just chop/press the garlic as finely as possible and grate the ginger with the smallest grater tooth possible.

Get the oil nice and hot in a wide frying pan. Once hot, put in the bay leaves, cinnamon, cardamom pods, cloves and cumin seeds (if you don't have the cumin seeds, don't worry about it. I never seem to have any, and it still turns out). Stir once or twice and put in the onions.

Stir and fry for until the onions turn brownish. Don't mess this part up. Be patient. I think my mother once told me that properly cooked onions are what make Indian food so delicious.

Once your onions smell delicious, without any trace of harshness, add the paste from the blender, and the ground coriander and ground cumin and fry for a minute. Then throw in the tomatoes and fry for another minute. Stir like mad if anything is sticking.

Toss in the chicken, chilli powder, salt and the water. Bring to a boil (this should be very easy, considering your pan was nice and hot when you added the spices at the start, right?). Cover, turn the heat to medium and cook for 15 minutes, stirring once in a while.

Finally, add the cream bit by bit and cook on high heat for another 7-8 minutes or until the sauce has thickened. Stir gently as you do this.

Serves 4 without leftovers. Serves 2 with enough for generous seconds. Enjoy.

Introducing the Design Monkey

The Design Monkey is actually C.

C is my lovely, long suffering partner who caters to my whims and taste tests all my experiments. He is also the reason that C&C looks so nice. (He's a designer and photographer.)

C is also a fabulous cook. He makes (among other things) great Indian food and my favorite chicken noodle soup. Since this blog is really about the food he and I eat together and he works on it as much as I do, it seems like he should get to put in his two cents/tuppence every now and then, so he's officially on the blogroll now.

Saturdays = Delicious

When C & I lived in Toronto, Saturdays nearly always began with our weekly trip to the St Lawrence Market. We had our friendly butchers who flirted with me, the lovely lady who sold fruit and the fish guys who filleted our fish. We knew them, they knew us, it was a great sense of belonging and it was the first thing I knew I'd miss when we got to London (besides our wonderful friends- love you!).

Fast forward to April and our new life in East London. We have rediscovered Saturday Morning Markets days with a weekly wander to Broadway Market. The pork guy is beginning to recognize us, as is the two guys who sell gorgeous bread (must be early to get what you want), the coffee people (not the first stand but the one closer to London Fields) are starting to offer suggestions on different beans, remembering what we've tried the week before (Peruvian is my favorite so far). It begins to feel like maybe we might just belong here one day too.

But my favorite market find is Gujarati Rasoi. And the man who runs it definitely recognizes us. He and his mom run this amazing vegetarian Indian food stand- they cook the samosas up right there and they are hands down the best I have EVER eaten. Everything we have tried has been delicious (who knew veggie could be this good?!) but my favorite is the Samosa Chatt- a samosa atop a curry of chickpeas and potatoes with tamarind and yogurt-coriander sauce topped with crunchy puffed rice. Heaven in a little brown box.

Ghetto Gourmet

Nigel Slater's Kitchen Diaries is one of my favorite cookbooks. I love the seasonality of it (I do a quick browse through before I go to Saturday's farmers market), I love the simplicity of the recipes and how some of them are more suggestions that a full on how to.

This week C made little Italianesque pork meatballs with lemon and parmesan and a spicy chicken and mushroom fish sauce concoction- all delicious and from Nigel's book.

So on Friday night when we came home hungry and tired from the Late Nights presentation at the V&A museum we turned to his always delicious book for suggestions and stopped by the corner store to pick up the necessary ingredients.

We ate baked beans, tarted up with a bit of brown sugar and tabasco sauce with chips/fries.

And it was awesome.

Pear Pudding

My Great Aunt Jessie, whom I never met, is something of a legend in my mind. She was a formidable woman. She yelled a lot. I think my mom and the other kids thought she was kind of mean. But the woman could cook. Oh, god could she cook! Many of my mom's standard recipes are from Auntie Jesse.

One of my favorite comfort desserts is her Hasty Apple Pudding. It's not pretty, but it's warm and luscious and homey. My mom used to make it. Then she taught me to make it. I made a version for two tonight using the lovely pears in the photo and flavouring the sauce with some star anise.

Here's the full recipe. The halved one needs some tweaking. But this one would be perfect for a cold night and a family of four. Ice cream isn't absolutely necessary, but certainly wouldn't be amiss.

Hasty Apple/Pear Pudding

4-6 apples or pears

Slice the fruit and place them in a pan with a dusting of cinnamon.

Batter

50 g butter
100 g white sugar (flavored with a vanilla bean if that's what you've got!)
1 egg
250 g plain flour
2 tsp baking powder
a pinch of salt

Cream the butter and sugar, then beat in the egg.

Alternate between the dry ingredients and the milk til blended. Spoon over the pears.

Sauce

250g brown sugar
1 tablespoon butter (that's 15 grams if you're weighing things. I like to weigh things. Spoons, lemons, pinches...)
1 tablespoon flour
1-1/2c water
a star anise for the pears or a tiny splash of vanilla for apples

Mix all the ingredients in a pot and let boil for five minutes. Pour over battered fruit.

Toss in the oven for 30 minutes or until the cake is done.

Market Finds

Our local market on Saturday is Broadway Market and I love it. It's small enough that you can wander through a couple of times before making your picks and is local enough that people are starting to recognize us. These lovely little tomatoes came on the vine and were fantastically tomatoey tasting, especially for this time of year. And I'm starting to learn the different varieties- way beyond plum, beefsteak and on the vine!

Oh cabbage. How I love you. How I cook you up with bacon and make you into soup, salad, pasta... There was a post on Gluten-Free Girl about what to do with a Savoy cabbage and I had to have one so I could try out some of the suggestions. Incidentally, one cabbage can feed two people for a very, very long time...