Let's start again

It has been an age since I blogged, there is a huge backlog of photos I've collected over the last few months, but I have been a thoroughly busy bee.

So busy that I can't remember the last time I really cooked at home. So when on Monday I found myself heading home at 9:30pm, even though it's late, I decided to attempt something not particularly complicated but still a little new. I was visiting Cerys and her lovely new baby Eira in Cardiff and was reading Jamie's Italy whilst playing with baby, and found a nice recipe which you can do in the time it takes to boil the pasta. Always my kind of recipe.

Spaghetti with kind of pesto (or spaghetti alla Trapanese according to JO) (serves 1)

125g of spaghetti or linguine

Handful of whole almonds

2 handfuls of fresh basil, leaves picked

1/2 clove garlic

Extra virgin olive oil

Coarse sea salt

Freshly ground pepper

Handful of cherry tomatoes

Handful of freshly grated parmesan

1. Put the pasta on the boil

2. Dry roast the almonds until it is just coloured. Meanwhile, in a pestle and mortar, smash up the garlic with a little salt, and slowly grind in the basil. Once the almonds are roasted, put in the basil mix and smash up until pretty fine.

3. Lug enough olive oil in the mortar to make it wet enough to coat all of the pasta. Add in the parmesan and mix well.

4. Cut the cherry tomatoes in half and squish a little with your hands.

5. Drain the pasta. Using the same pan, add in the tomatoes, pesto, and spaghetti, mix well.

6. Scoff in front of the telly.

Starting to be a bit obsessed now

Someone really needs to remove that 1-click purchase facility on Amazon, as I am already impulsive enough about buying cookbooks as it is. I am still feeling quite inspired by vegetables recently, and treated myself to two Ottolenghi cookbooks. His most recent book Plenty is particularly inspiring: it is entirely vegetarian, but his recipes are consistently interesting. I love the fact that he is introducing me to new ways with new ingredients: definitely stock up on limes, coriander and cumin before you try his recipes, and get used to going to Middle Eastern supermarkets to look for frozen okras.

I snipped this recipe from the Guardian back in March 2008, but have only just managed to make it now that it is also in the cookbook. It is really moreish, and I would add even more chilli next time.

Green Pancakes with Lime Butter (serves 3-4 as brunch)

For the lime butter:

100g unsalted butter, at room temperature

Zest of 1 lime plus 2 tbsp lime huice

1/2 tsp salt

1/2 tsp white pepper

1 tbsp coriander leaves

1/2 garlic clove, finely chopped

1/2 tsp chilli flakes

For the pancakes:

110g self-raising flour

1 tbsp baking powder

1 egg

50g unsalted butter, melted

1/2 tsp salt

1/2 tsp ground cumin

150ml milk

10 spring onions, finely sliced

2 green chillies, finely sliced

250g baby spinach

1 egg white

Olive oil, for frying

1. First, make the lime butter. Put the butter in a medium-sized bowl and beat with a wooden spoon until it turns soft and creamy. Stir in the remaining ingredients. Tip everything out onto a sheet of clingfilm and roll into a sausage shape. Twist the ends to seal, then chill until firm.

2. Put the spinach in a pan with a splash of water, cook until wiltered, drain and let it cool. Once cooled, squeeze hard to expel all the excess water. Roughly chop.

3. Make the pancake batter by putting the flour, baking powder, whole egg, butter, salt, cumin and milk in a mixing bowl, and whisk until smooth. Fold in the onion, chilli, and spinach into the batter mix.

4. Whisk the egg white to soft peaks and then carefully fold this into the batter.

5. Pour a little oil into a heavy frying pan and place on medium-high heat. For each pancake, ladle two tablespoons of batter into the pan and press down gently. You should get smallish pancakes (definitely not American style), about 7cm in diameter and 1cm thick. Cook for a minute each side, until a nice golden-green colour. Transfer to paper towels and keep warm.

6. Serve three pancakes per person and place a disc of the flavoured butter on top to melt. Serve with salad, or like me, some lovely smoked mackerel:

In love with quinoa

Yotam Ottolenghi is a genius, and I may have mentioned it before on this blog already. His 'new vegetarian' column in the Guardian has opened my eyes to the world of vegetables, and even though most of his recipes do have a long list of (sometimes unfamiliar Iranian) ingredients, it has been worthwhile to restock my store cupboard.

This is the recipe I have made twice in a week since I got back to London. The addition of cumin and chilli is a work of genius.

Avocado, quinoa and broad bean salad (serves 6, easily half-able)

200g quinoa

500g podded broad beans

2 medium lemons

2 small ripe avocados

2 garlic gloves, crushed

200g fresh breakfast radishes, sliced lengthways

50g purple radish cress or small, fresh purple basil leaves

1 tbsp ground cumin

75ml olive oil

1/4 tsp chilli flakes

1. Place the quinoa in a pan of water, bring to the boil and simmer for 9 minutes. Drain in fine sieve, rinse under cold water, and set aside to dry.

2. Throw the broad beans into a pan of boiling water, return to the boil and drain immediately. Refresh with cold water and set aside to dry. Gently press each bean with your fingers to remove the skins, then discard.

3. Top and tail the lemons. Stand each one on a chopping board and cut down the sides, following the natural curve, to remove the skin and white pith. Over a large bowl, cut in between the membranes to release the segments into the bowl. Squeeze in the juice from the membranes.

4. Peel, stone, and thinly slice the avocados. Add to the bowl and toss to cover in the lemon juice. Add the dry quinoa, broad beans, garlic, radishes, half the radish cress, cumin, oil, chilli flakes and some salt and pepper. Toss gently, without breaking the avocado, and season again if needed. Serve garnished with the remaining cress.

This was the version I made, substituting the broad beans with asparagus (why can't I find broad beans anywhere at the moment?!), lemon with lime, and I couldn't find any purple cress:

This is so so so good, try it. I am in fact having it for my lunch!

Blackspring's Nan's Pork Hock

This is the stuff of legends, and I'm not kidding. Blackspring's Nan's Pork Hock recipe is probably the most famous recipe amongst the GU foodie crowd, one of those that gets posted again and again because it is sooooooooooooooo good. Even reading the recipe you know it would be good.

I've always wanted to make it, but the difficulty is trying to locate pork hock in central London (Sorcha has mentioned it is sometimes available cheap at the Ginger Pig, but I rarely go to Borough Market). It's one of those cuts that the Chinese love; I remember my mum buying them when I was little and making like 5 different meals out of one hock, which apparently only used to be 50p each. After dim sum in the Docklands, we went for our usual grocery shop at one of the big Chinese supermarkets, and I spotted they had a glorious display of hocks. I dutifully bought a huge one for less than £3.

The recipe, as c&p'ed, is:

"1 giant pork hock (size doesn't matter) -1 lump of ginger roughly sliced -2 tbsp (or more if you fancy) dou ban jiang (chili bean sauce - I use AMOY brand) -2 tbsp brown sugar -3 tbsp dark soy sauce -3 tbsp light soy sauce (I use Kikkoman for giant umami kick) -2 star anise 2-3 spring onions or half a little red onion AND: 2 tbsp rice wine (not essential) 1 tsp 5-spice powder (not essential)

Put all ingredients into a deep pot with enough water to cover the hock completely and bring to the boil, then simmer for 4-5 hours. You will know when it is done when the house starts smelling amazing and the meat falls off the bone. don't worry if the pork hock looks fatty when you buy it, it all rises and you can skim it off at the end. what you are left with is a silky gelatinous amalgamation of very lean shredded pork (almost like Texan slow-cooked brisket) that is melt in the mouth. You won't need a knife. You can cut through it with a spoon. Serve with some simple steamed pak choi on steamed rice, or over thin white rice noodles in a deep bowl with lots of meaty liquor."

It was also a little celebration of the fact that I now have a little Chinese grocery shop at the end of my road (hurrah for Chinese immigrants in East London!). I was able to get tons of star anise (八角), five spice powder (五香粉) and the chilli bean paste (豆瓣醬) at bargainous prices:

OK, to start with, with everything in the pan, it doesn't look too promising:

But after stewing it for 5 hours, the liquid is mostly evaporated, the meat is falling off the bone. My house still smells amazing:

I managed to get so much meat out of the hock. Last night I had it with some panfried tofu and stir-fried spinach, which according to my mum is a lethal combination which will give me cancer. I think I shall die from my arteries being completely clogged up first. As you can see, the meat is just so soft, I am already thinking of experimenting with beef brisket whenever I manage to find some:

I am actually eating my second meal of it right now, and I think there are at least another 4 meals left I can get out of it. It's one of those times when I do need Eugene around to eat up my food, but the horrible person has gone to Tokyo this week. This is obviously revenge for him going to have so much Japanese yumminess :)

Making a mess

Once again I find myself with a fridge full of stuff, which I'm blaming on Caris and also Saturday night's San Sebastian party. Not that I'm complaining; it has only inspired me to make all sorts of food I've never made before this week, at one stage I seemed to have used every pan in the kitchen.

It all started with the slightly crazy idea of making two different ice creams in one go, neither of which I have tried before. I had 6 egg yolks leftover from making the pavlova, and I'm still wondering whether it is false economy to go out and spend another ton of money on more ingredients in order to use them up. I was going to stick to what I know, ice creams which were essentially egg custard with yummy stuff stirred into it, but I had a special request for something chocolatey, so made my first ever chocolate ice cream. This Nigella recipe is another one of those where you consume a day's worth of calories in one porton.

Baci Ice Cream (makes about 1 litre)

4 egg yolks
100g caster sugar
500ml double cream
100g 70%+ cocoa dark chocolate
25g good quality cocoa powder
1 x 200g pot Nutella
2 teaspoons hazelnut syrup (begged from coffee shop next to tube station)

1. Make an egg custard by whisking the egg yolks with the sugar until pale, thick and creamy; bring the cream to the boil, and add slowly to the egg yolks and sugar, whisking all the time.
2. Melt the chocolate, and whisk this also into the custard. Pour everything into a pan, and cook slowly, stirring constantly, until the custard is thick enough to coat the back of a spoon. Leave to cool, stirring occasionally to prevent a skin from forming.

3. When the mixture is cool, whisk in the Nutella and the hazelnut syrup. Freeze in ice cream maker or use the churn by hand method.

This was more like making a cold ganache than an ice cream, the mixture gets so thick it's almost impossible to churn by hand. But the end result is very very rich and very very good. There is plenty in my freeze for those who want to try! More mess was made as I also made apple ice cream, very simiar to the rhubarb ice cream recipe I make often, but this time with apple puree.

The other big mess I've made this week goes back to my food nemesis. I consider myself an ok cook, I can generally make a good attempt at most recipes, but one thing that has always alluded me is the humble poached egg. I've cried many a time over these horrid things, I have no idea how people manage to get the whites to cling so perfectly without cheating with cling film or moulds. (It did please me greatly to see eggs being poached in cling film at Rousillon on Masterchef recently though, ha!).

I tried again, mainly because I was cooking for myself, with no one around to stress me out. Maybe it's like that philosophical question of whether the tree makes a sound when it falls if no one is there to hear it; if no one is there to see me cry over the sodding eggs, maybe they will work! I used pretty fresh eggs from Waitrose, a little vinegar in the water and the 'whirlpool' method. It was still a mess, egg white all over the place, but at least the yolk was still nice and runny. I also used another trick I learnt off Masterchef by putting some tomatoes on the vine with everything to distract from the ugliness:

In slightly less messy situations this week, I also wanted to record some other new things I tried. Abel & Cole bought me another unwelcomed cucumber in my veg box this week, so I pickled it to serve with some chargrilled mackerel:

I also made a ridiculously luxurious salad with figs, mozzarella from that amazing stall in Borough Market, and parma ham:

This was meant to be a detox week, obviously it has not gone well.

Officially the end of summer

It's no use pretending anymore; the cold has descended upon London, everyone has been ill recently, and the clocks go back next weekend. The San Sebastian crew tried for one last stab at summer though last Saturday, and I tried to make as summery a menu as I could.

End of summer menu (served 2 slightly overworked consultants and 4 other friends)

• Mozzarella with olive gremolata
• Quail eggs wrapped in parma ham
• Tomato and red onion salad
• Razor clams, chorizo and broad bean 'pintxos'
• Stuffed squid with chorizo and rice
• Chocolate and raspberry pavlova

And most importantly, we were able to use the lovely cider glasses I had bought in San Sebastian. At all the little pintxos places, be it sangria or wine or cider, it would be served in a large, very fragile looking glass. We looked all over to try and buy them, and I was jumping up and down a little when I finally found some in a little artisan food shop. They were definitely the guest of honour, everything tastes just that bit more summery when served in them:

Caris also taught us to make the most dangerous drink, with the Konyagi spirit that she imported back from Tanzania (the bottle you can spy in the photo above). It tastes like there is absolutely no alcohol in it, despite the Konyagi being 35%.

Konyagi cocktail (serves 1)

1 shot konyagi
1 shot water
Juice of half a lemon
Honey to taste

1. Mix ingredients in an attractive San Sebastian cider glass
2. Try not to drink all at once

We'd also initially planned to go and have Sunday breakfast at E Pellici, the only listed cafe in the whole of the UK, only for me to forget that it's not open on Sundays. D'oh! Such a shame, as I love their breakfasts there and haven't been for ages, particularly their make-up-your-own option, where I normally combine carved ham, black pudding, bubble and a fried egg. As a result, we ended up heading to Brick Lane.

I was actually most excited about sharing the wonders of Brick Lane beigels (not bagels) from Brick Lane Beigel Bake with Caris and Fil, but I fear they may have been far too Americianised! They both protested that you can't get your beigels toasted, and that there is only one beigel - no blueberry, no cinnamon and raisin, no chocolate chip, no no no! - and I think we will have to agree to disagree on this one.

Brick Lane has become super-trendified recently. I hadn't been down there for a good few months now, and the slightly run-down market has now been replaced by upmarket food stalls; there was even one that only sold arancini. I'm still somewhat undecided on whether I like this development. It will do wonders for my house price, and I like the fact that I now have so many more eateries to try on Sunday mornings, but I like living in a grubby part of town! Sooner or later, it will no longer be frightening for my friends to come and visit, and that simply will not do.

We did try one of these super trendy places, Story Deli, an achingly cool and self-conscious place in the Old Truman Brewery. Half of the restaurant appears to be some kind of art gallery, and the chairs are actually little storage cupboards (the waitress came and got some coffee lids from one of our chairs). Nevertheless, I did come to love the place. I loved their big communal tables, and their very stripped down, deconstructed decor. Best of all, their pizzas are very very good. We tried the one with parma ham and artichoke:

Disturbingly, it was served to us by a 10 year old girl, but it was super tasty. Summer on a pizza, the base was really really thin and crispy, the whole thing was so light. Caris and I are also going to Naples in a couple of weekends' time, where we will eat even more pizza! Mwahahahaha....

Bedrocks and tumble-downs

There is a new series on BBC called Economy Gastronomy at the moment, very appropriate for the times, trying to educate the British masses on how to save money whilst still eating well. Apart from the appalling title, the programme has irked me somewhat in how patronising it is. The whole premise of the programme is to have a 'bedrock' recipe, normally a big hunk of roasted meat, from which you can have 'tumble-down' meals from to last you the week. It has annoyed me that they talk about it as if it was some fan-dangled new invention, but I guess this is geared towards people who haven't used their kitchen beyond the microwave.

I am still welcoming the extra free time I have on my hands with my new job, which has given me so much more time to cook at home. This week I have been doing lots of tumble-down meals, mainly as my parents left me with a fridge full of goodies. I had at my disposal some crab, roast pork (燒肉 rather than 叉燒), roast duck, as well as my mum's massive collection of sauces and goodies ranging from oyster sauce to dried shrimp to fermented bean curd. I have always been terrible at cooking Chinese food, but I'm trying to improve at the moment.

Here's what my mum did with the crab:

Crab with spring onion and ginger (serves 4 with leftovers)

2 crabs, still alive
Cooking oil
1 small onion or big handful of spring onions, finely chopped
Glug of Chinese cooking wine
1 egg
Tablespoon or so of ginger, chopped into matchsticks

1. Prepare the crab. Make sure it is still alive when you come to cook - my parents either leave them roaming in the garden and then put them in the fridge for a while for them to go to sleep. Brutally kill them by levering the shell to come apart from the body. Take out the lungs/ladies fingers, take off the legs and claws, and chop the remaining body into quarters. Use the back of the knife to crack open the claws so it is easier to eat later. Set aside the legs as they are a bit hairy for this.

2. Heat some oil in the wok to a high heat, then add the onions. Stir-fry until soft, then add in the crab, along with your glug of wine. Stir-fry to make sure even distribution of heat.

3. After the crab is 80% done (easiest way to check is looking at how solid the brown meat has become in the shell), add in a beaten egg, which will collect up all the good crabby juicyness. Mix well, and finish with the ginger.

It is an amazingly easy recipe really, really letting the gorgeousness of the crab shine. The best bit is scooping out all the cholesterol-ridden brown meat from the shell and mixing it with plain rice. Here it is in all its magnificence (obviously my mum made this, I'm just trying to take credit now):

In an attempt to clear my fridge-full of food, I invited Eugene, Jess and Martin round for dinner. It dawned on me that it would be the first ever family-style Chinese dinner I've cooked for friends, and I was a bit worried. There were 4 things on the menu:

1. Braised roast pork with tofu and broccoli
2. Gingery duck with peppers
3. Morning glory (通菜) with fermented tofu and chilli
4. Leftover crab

The trickiest thing I found was to time everything. The 3 dishes I had to cook where all wok-based, and the challenge was to cook quickly enough to ensure that nothing went cold. I cheated somewhat by having two woks on the go (I am inviting unnecessary jokes about my surname now, aren't I?), and I dirtied a whole load of bowls along the way in an attempt to be all Delia and tidy. But here was the resulting feast!:

The dish I was most happy with was the morning glory I think. It is so prohibitively expensive in restaurants, but a plate cost me about £1.75 to make, helped by the leftover fermented tofu my mum had in the fridge!

Morning glory with fermented tofu and chilli (serves 4 as part of a Chinese meal)

Half a bag of morning glory (I bought a bag from Dragon Gate Supermarket in Chinatown for about £3.25 and got two meals out of it)
Cooking oil
4 cloves garlic, crushed
1 small red chilli, chopped small
2 tablespoons of fermented tofu (南乳)

1. Wash the morning glory and separate the leaves from the stalks. Cut the stalks into 2 inch-long pieces.

2. Heat the wok to a high heat with some cooking oil, then add the garlic and chilli, stir frying until soft but not browned.

3. Add in the fermented tofu, with a little water to stop it catching. Add in the morning glory stalks, and stir fry for a minute or so.

4. Add in the leaves, which will reduce down like spinach very quickly. Mix well and serve.

If you have been paying attention, you will have noticed that we set aside some crab legs earlier on. My mum always steams them on top of the rice in the rice cooker, and there are a million things you can do with the meat other than just eating it just like that. I spent almost an entire episode of Economy Gastronomy getting all the meat out of the legs that were leftover:

Lucky I love extracting crab meat, because look at the paltry amount of meat you get at the end of it!:

I was debating what to do with them for ages. One option was to make them into crab cakes with my successful potato harvest (my first ever!), but given I'd just been worked hard by Susan at yoga class (that woman is a masochist in the nicest sense of the word), I needed some pasta.

Linguine with crab and chilli (serves 1)

125g linguine (quarter of a packet)
Leftover white crab meat
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 clove garlic, crushed
1 small red chilli, chopped small
Little bit of grated lemon rind
100g baby spinach, washed
Juice of half a lemon

1. Put pasta on to cook. Put spinach into a colander.

2. In a small frying pan, add the olive oil, garlic, chilli and lemon rind, and fry very slowly until it simmers and the garlic is soft.

3. Drain the pasta by throwing it over the spinach (thereby cooking it), and mix with a fork in the colander to avoid big clumps of spinach.

4. Add the pasta and spinach into the frying pan, along with the crab and lemon juice. Mix well and scoff.

And believe it or not, I still have bits and pieces left in my fridge for me to tumble-down some more! I guess I need to put on more weight though before I can rival the lovely Allegra :)

Hangover

It is August bank holiday, so you can forgive me for having a hangover today. I'm trying to branch out from my usual blue cheese linguine recipe, so created this as my hangover cure. So far, with 4 pints of Earl Grey tea, I'm almost recovered.

Smoked salmon and spinach linguine (serves 1)

100g linguine
1 clove garlic
3 tablespoons creme fraiche
1 tablespoons parmasan like cheese (I used a bit of aged gouda as that was what I had in my fridge)
Juice of half a lemon
Small handful of smoked salmon, roughly hand shredded
Handful of spinach

1. Cook the linguine, making sure to reserve a couple of tablespoons of the cooking water before you drain it.
2. In a separate frying pan, fry the garlic in a little oil very gently, before adding the creme fraiche, cheese, and pasta cooking water. Once the cheese has melted, add the lemon juice.
3. Put the spinach in a colander and pour the pasta over it, so the hot water cooks the spinach.
4. Add the pasta into the creamy mixture alongside the salmon, and mix quickly.
5. Scoff with a large glass of water.


One suggestion for next time is not to try and talk on the phone with Chirag at the same time as cooking, especially with him trying to remember why he woke up with drawings all over his face and shock pink lipstick on. I managed to burn the garlic, although it did make my house smell very nice.

Kind of Tom Kha Chicken

Many of you already know that I'm a creature of habit, to the extent that at some restaurants, I will only order one thing, deviation from that one thing always leads to disappointment. My beloved Busaba Eathai is so beloved by me because of their Tom Kha Chicken, and with a bit of time on my hands, I tried to recreate it.

Tom Kha Gai is already one of my favourite things in the world, and Busaba adds to it by making it into a full meal by adding glass noodles and spinach, with a chargrilled chicken thigh. I'm pretty sure it is completely unauthentic, and Thai people really should stop reading here before I offend anyone, but it is complete comfort food in a bowl. It is actually not a very popular dish it seems, I hardly ever see other people order it, but it is definitely in the shortlist for my death row meal.

Kind of Tom Kha Chicken (serves 2, probably)

2 cans coconut milk (I used reduced fat to try and be good)
Thumb-sized piece of galangal
2 stalks lemongrass
6 kaffir lime leaves
5 small red Thai chillis
2 chicken thighs, with skin
4 tablespoons fish sauce
2 tablespoons sugar
Juice of half a lime
Handful of rice noodles per person, previously soaked
Handful of baby spinach leaves

1. Prepare the chicken. I've found that it is impossible to buy boned out chicken thighs which still have their skins on, and you really have to have the skin for this recipe. Boning out is a bit fiddly, but quite therapeutic. And I found on this occasion that my kitchen scissors were particularly helpful. Once boned out, cover each thigh with cling film and bash it flat with the base of your hand.


2. Prepare the spices. Slice the galangal, cut the lemongrass into inch long strips and bash to release the lemony oils. Rip the lime leaves in half. Leave the chillies as they are, or halve them if you want more heat - but this soup is more about aromatics than heat for me.


3. Cook the chicken. I used my Le Creuset griddle pan to try and get some of the barbeque burnt flavour into the chicken, one of the things I love about the Busaba dish. Over a medium heat, you should be able to cook the chicken through without really burning the meat.


4. In a pan, pour in one can of the coconut milk, and then add in all the galangal, lemongrass, lime leaves and chillis. Heat until boiling.


5. Once it's at the boil, add the chicken, fish sauce, and sugar, and simmer for 5 mins to infuse the flavours, before adding the second tin of coconut milk and about half a tin of water
6. Add in the rice noodles, add in the lime juice, and cook until noodles are soft. Stir in a handful of spinach at the last minute. Et voila!

I was very proud of this - the flavours are almost there vs. the Busaba original, except this version was very very rich / thick, even though I'd already substituted with light coconut milk.

Improvements for next time:

• More lime juice
• Use palm sugar instead of golden caster sugar - I'd actually bought some last weekend but my parents managed to run off with it!!
• Maybe only one tin of coconut milk, and the rest water / light fish stock
• Add a shitake mushroom with a cross on its bottom to look even more like Busaba's
• This is probably really blasphemous, but to put the spices in a kind of bouquet garni so that you don't get little bits of lemongrass amongst your noodles. I actually reused the soup base for another handful of noodles the next day and strained out the spices. I told you Thai people should've stopped reading

Leaving Uncle B

I have worked for a very special organisation for the last 5 years, where Uncle B has treated me unbelievably well. It was also under Uncle B that I really learnt about food and have been able to afford to eat very well, so I will eternally be grateful. However, I decided this year was the right time for me to move onto to do other things, and will be starting a strategy role within the restaurant business in the next month. I won't mention who they are here, but I will also stop blogging about them just to be objective (although some very honest blogs about these restaurants already appear here!!!).

But anyway, the real reason for posting is to give out my recipe for brownies. These are unbelievably good brownies, and it generally how I make friends (just ask Matthew). It is actually a Nigella recipe, and yes, even I am shocked at how much fat/sugar goes in it every time I make them.

Brownies (makes about 48 - they are so rich you will want to cut them quite small)

375g soft unsalted butter
375g dark chocolate (at least 70% cocoa)
6 large eggs
1 tbsp vanilla extract
500g caster sugar
225g plain flour
1 tsp salt (I sometimes just use salted butter and omit this)
300g chopped walnuts

1. Preheat the oven to 180C and line your brownie pan with some greaseproof paper. The pan I use is just larger than a A4 sheet of paper and about 2 inches deep.
2. Melt the butter and chocolate together (microwave is fine!) and allow to cool.
3. In a large bowl (enough to hold all the ingredients) beat the eggs with the vanilla and sugar.
4. Beat in the chocolate/butter mixture, then the nuts and flour. Beat to combine smoothly and scrape out into your brownie pan.
5. Bake for about 25 minutes - the trick is get it so that the top is dry, but the middle still looks quite undercooked - this will ensure that the final brownie is nice and dense and gooey inside.

Obviously you can omit the nuts and add in whatever you like - dried cherries in particular sound very nice. I also successfully managed to do a non-nutty version for Chris who is allergic in a little ramekin.

Apologies to the baymates who were in Newcastle and never got a taste! If you guys keep me on the bay mailing list, maybe I'll make them again soon :p

Making ice cream

2 weeks ago, just before I returned to work, I had the slightly mad idea of inviting 25 people over for lunch. I've made an incredible number of friends over the years through my work with Habitat for Humanity, and I thought it might be a good idea to invite everyone I've met through Habitat for a bit of a catch up. We all come from very different walks of life, from people in the US Air Force to Yorkshire miners, and I do feel my life has been very enriched by being able to learn from such a diverse group of people.

I did become a bit obsessed as to what to cook everyone. I had initially thought of doing a barbeque, but obviously, the day came and it promptly started raining at 11am, so it turned into somewhat of an oven party. To be honest, most of the savoury food was good mainly because they came from excellent suppliers. The most special mention has to go to the sausages from The Sausage Shop in Trimley, Felixstowe. Rod and Diane of The Sausage Shop live next door to my family home, and their sausages are incredible! My parents have to export some to me every time they're in London.

The one thing I cooked that everyone loved was the ice cream. I really shouldn't tell anyone, but making ice cream is one of those things that seems very impressive, but is dead dead easy. And I don't even have an ice cream maker. This recipe is from the lovely Rosalind from The Cookery School:

Rhubarb ice cream (enough for lots of Habitat mouths)

For the rhubarb compote:
450g rhubarb
100g sugar

For the ice cream:
1 pint single cream
3 oz caster sugar
3 egg yolks

1. First make the compote. Clean the rhubarb, removing any tough bits and chop into inch long pieces. Wash it well, but allow some of the water in which it has been washed to cling to the pieces as this will provide moisture whilst cooking.
2. Place the rhubarb in saucepan and gently bring to the boil. Use a lid to keep the steam in the pan so keep it moist. Once it comes to the boil, turn down the heat and cook until the rhubarb collapses - remember to stir from time to time so it doesn't stick - it is very quick, only takes 5-10 minutes.

3. When the rhubarb starts to collapse, add the sugar and allow to continue cooking slowly until you get a nice rhubarby sauce.
4. Taste for tartness and add more sugar if necessary. I usually make sure it is a little tarter than you'd think as the ice cream is quite sweet, plus I do lack that sweet tooth. Remove from the heat and let it cool.

5. Make the ice cream: beat the egg yolks and half the sugar together until thick and creamy.

6. Bring the single cream and remainder of the sugar to the boil, careful to switch the heat off immediately after boiling point is reached.
7. Pour the cream slowly onto the egg mixture, beating all the time to avoid curdling. Then return the mixture to the saucepan you used to boil the cream and cook on a very low heat, whisking until the mixture thickens.
8. Be careful not to overcook the custard or it will curdle. It is 'cooked' when it coats the back of a metal spoon:

9. Cool the mixture to room temperature, then add the cooled compote into the custard. I normally don't mix it in too well to get more of a ripple effect.
10. If you're blessed with an ice cream maker, at this point, chill the mixture and then churn in your ice cream maker as per your manufacturers' instructions.
11. If you're relying on good old elbow crease, put the mixture into a freezer-proof dish and allow it to freeze until the sides are starting to set (takes about an hour). Remove from the freezer and beat well, beating down all the ice crystals. Return to the freezer.
12. Every hour or so after this, take the ice cream out and beat it thoroughly, and do this about 3-4 times. The more you beat it the smoother the ice cream will be.
13. Eat in small quantities - it is very rich!

The other variation I made was dime bar ice cream. This is inspired by the infamous G&D's ice cream parlour in Oxford, the site of all our guilty pleasures during my uni days. Instead of making the rhubarb compote, put 3 dime bars into a blender until you get this glassy looking sand mixture. It will smell incredible. Then add to the custard mixture when it has completely cooled, and freeze/beat in the same fashion.

Making the most of unemployment and Thursday Borough Market

Given that it was my last few days of unemployment, I wanted to cook something new and a little more adventurous. Then I realised it was a Thursday, and that Borough Market is now open on Thursdays, so off I went.

I do think the place is ridiculously overpriced, and it has become a bit too much of a tourist attraction. I went there on a Friday recently and it was just unpleasant to walk around - lots of people with no intention of actually buying any food, many with sillily big cameras. However, the Thursday market is a lot calmer (although only half of the market is actually open), and there is the advantage that you can get almost whatever you want. Unfortunately I live in an area where there is no decent butchers, and the supplies at the fishmongers in the market is somewhat erratic.

I'm still a little hung up on the Spanish theme after the recent trip to Barcelona, so I ended up making the following, which is a Hugh Fearlessly-Eatsitall recipe.

Braised stuffed squid with chorizo and rice (serves 2)

4 medium squid, including wings and tentacles
2 fat garlic cloves, finely sliced
1 tin of chopped tomatoes
200ml fish stock (I used veg and it was ok)
Zest of 1 lemon
2 bay leaves
100ml dry sherry (I used dry white wine and it was ok)

For the stuffing:
1 onion, finely diced
4 fat garlic cloves, finely sliced
1 celery stick, finely sliced
50g long grain rice
1 teaspoon finely chopped fresh rosemary
1 teaspoon finely chopped fresh thyme
100g chorizo, skin removed and diced small

1. Clean the squid, taking out the plasticky bit out of the tubes, taking off the weird skin, and removing the wings and tentacles (but save these). Make sure the 'eyes' of the tentacles are also taken out.
2. Make the stuffing - fry the onion, garlic, and celery and saute gently for about 10 minutes. Leave to cool a little.

3. Finely chop the wings and tentacles of the squid, and add to the cooked onion mixture with the rest of the ingredients. Season and mix well.

4. Stuff the mixture into the squid tubes, until they are about 3/4 full (the rice will expand a little bit during the cooking). Secure the squid with cocktail sticks (I didn't have any so had to improvise with rather large skewers!). Any remaining stuffing can be added to the sauce.

5. Make the sauce - in a casserole which would hold the squid snugly, fry the sliced garlic in some oil until they are just beginning to colour. Add in the tomatoes, stock, lemon zest, bay leaves, sherry/wine, and season. Add in the squid, making sure they are covered by the sauce, and bring to a simmer.
6. Transfer to a preheated oven (100 to 120C) and cook for 2 to 2.5 hours until the squid is tender.

If you're wondering what happened to one of the squids, I confess I nicked the last photo off the internet as the one I took was terrible looking, but the dish looked really good!! And it was absolutely delicious, I should have made more!

Another tip that I myself did not follow was to get frozen squid from Chinese supermarkets. They are dead dead cheap (less than £2 a box), and I usually have a box in the freezer just in case. You do need to clean them really thoroughly, but I think that's most of the fun from cooking squid!

And this is where it might go horribly wrong...

I consider myself an alright cook, but one recipe has always alluded me, and that is the mighty beef wellington. In theory, it really isn't that difficult technically, but I have always been worried about overcooking the beef and ruining an expensive piece of fillet. But given that I have so much free time on my hands right now, I thought I would take the plunge.

I used the Gordon Ramsay recipe from The F Word/Sunday Lunch cookbook. I tried making it for 2, but the beef fillet really needs to be at least 500g to work, so it's more like for 3...

Beef Wellington (serves 3ish)
500g flat mushrooms
500g beef fillet, ideally barrel shaped
2 tbsp English mustard
6 slices parma ham
300g puff pastry (I cheated and bought ready rolled)
1 egg yolk

1. Rip the mushrooms into small pieces, then blizz in a food processor until it forms a paste
2. Fry the mushrooms on a high heat, for about 10 minutes, until all the moisture is taken out of it, then set aside to cool. It will feel like absolutely ages, and I did think I was going to burn the mushrooms, but it does take that long to get all the water out. Then it looks quite unappetisingly like soil:

3. Wipe clean the frying pan, add in a little olive oil and back onto a high heat. Season the beef, and then sear all sides, careful not to actually cook it. Set aside to cool:

4. Once the beef is cool, brush mustard all over the surface.
5. Lay out a big piece of cling film, and then lay out the parma ham on top, with each slightly overlapping:

6. Spread the cooled mushroom soil over the ham, so there is a very thin layer all over. I found it easiest to use my fingers to squish it all thin and everywhere.
7. Time to wrap your parcel! We found it easiest to wrap the ham/mushrooms over one side of the beef, and then use the cling film to make sure it is stretched tight. Then tightly finish rolling, with excess cling film of each end - twist the ends, and then 'roll' the roll a few times on the work surface to make it even tighter:



8. Put in the fridge to set the mould for about 15 minutes, and in the meantime, roll out the puff pastry if you were good enough to buy non-ready-rolled (or have made your own even!)
9. Remove the cling film, then put the beef in the middle of the pastry. Brush egg yolk all around, and then carefully wrap around the barrel, finishing with some extra egg yolk to seal. I found the whole thing 'dry' enough to not even worry about leakage. Put back in the fridge for about 15 minutes.
10. Put on a baking sheet, with the seal at the bottom, and then score the pastry all over. Then brush all over with the last of the egg yolk
11. Bake in a pre-heated oven at 200C for about 15 minutes, then turn down to 180C for another 10 minutes. (Gordon recommended 25 mins then 20 mins for a 750g piece of beef, we were being overly cautious) - and look how golden brown it comes out!:

And when we finally cut it open, it was exactly right! I guess some people will find it a little rare, but we thought it was perfect for our tastes! We served it with just some simple courgettes pan-fried with garlic.

It was absolutely divine, but unfortunately my body retaliated a bit. I haven't eaten such a huge lump of meat in a long time, and I did feel as if it was sitting in my tummy undigested for most of the night, actually had trouble sleeping! So it means I actually have some leftovers for tonight. Woo!

Credit crunch cooking

I am right now officially unemployed (well, at least until May anyway), and apparently there is a global economic downturn right now, so some frugal cooking today. Actually, I had a lot of fun making a shepherd's pie out of the scraps of my fridge today, it challenged my cooking, and I tried to have everything 'homemade'. The pies are sitting at the counter cooling right now, so this is a very 'live' blog indeedy.

I cooked a roast leg of lamb the other day, and somehow we didn't eat it all, and yesterday, I cooked some pan-fried cod with aioli and mash, so deliberately made too much mash. There is a big mash potato fight right now amongst my London foodie community. My mash secret is to add creme fraiche, copious amounts of it, and to use a masher, none of those ricer things. Dave always taught me to do shepherd's pie with Bisto (yes, shocking for a foodie, but I must say it is essential), but I've run out today, so it's a little more challenging...

Leftovers shepherd's pie (serves 1 hungry Connie at lunchtime, with potential leftovers for her brother later on)
Half an onion, sliced
Half a carrot, finely chopped
Stalk of celery, finely chopped
Frozen peas
Slosh of red wine (I used rioja today)
Worcester sauce
Cornflour
Leftover roast lamb
Leftover mash

1. Fry the onions very slowly in some butter until it's all nice and soft and slightly burnt around the edges - minimum 15 minutes! Then add the carrot and celery and fry for a further 5 mins
2. Add the slosh of wine (be generous!), and mix about a teaspoon of cornflour with water and add that too. Slosh in some worcester sauce. Simmer until sauce starts to thicken
3. Add frozen peas, and simmer until the meat starts to break down a little
4. Assemble into pies in cute little ramekins

And here they are, sponsored by my lovely Le Creuset ramekins!

I'm tucking into one now - very very very nice. And all for free (kind of).

I also read today about this little dining club where this bloke in East London opens up his house to strangers and cooks for them every Wednesday, in return for a £10 donation. Check his place out on Facebook, it's called Secret Ingredient. It's such a lovely idea, I shall suggest something similar to Eugene for Uncle B's dining club I think...

First pud of 2009

I realised what a horrendously sweet tooth Drew had when I visited him in Brighton, and I’m very proud of his resolution for 2009 to cut down the 3 sugars he takes in his tea. As return for his kind hospitality therefore, I attempted to make him one of his favourites, a cheesecake. The problem was that I had not made one for a good few years (probably since school!!), so I kind of made it up as I went along, but it turned out really good!

Raspberry and passion fruit cheesecake (serves 1 hungry, greedy Drew, who refused to let me take any for Kath and James to try!)
150g digestive biscuits
125g butter
Half a large tub of raspberry yoghurt
1 small packet of cream cheese
4 tablespoons sugar
Some fresh raspberries
Some passion fruit

1. Crush the digestive biscuits – the method I used was to wrap them in some paper towels and bash them with an empty wine bottle, but might be safer to use a rolling pin and clean tea towel if available!
2. Melt the butter, and let it cool. Once cool, mix in the crushed biscuits, and press into the bottom of your cake tin
3. Mix together the yoghurt, sugar and cheese and add more/less sugar to taste. I think the version I did at school actually also had some whipping cream in it, but I guess this is a slightly less fat version, hee hee
4. Pour the cheese mixture on top of the biscuit base, and return to the fridge to set for at least 30 minutes
5. To serve, either cover the above cake decoratively with your raspberries and passion fruit. But the trick I learnt from Come Dine With Me is to actually serve it in little glasses – layering both the biscuity/cheesey mixture with raspberry and then topping with passion fruit.

So simple, and really quite yummy! And of course, we were Loving It!!!

Christmas chez Connie

For a change this year, my family spent Christmas Day at my humble little house in London, mainly to avoid me having to get on yet another mode of transportation for a little while at least. We as a family do not celebrate Christmas in the British sense, but we do do what we do best, and that is to cook way too much food.

We had a very lovely dinner of salmon and duck, a very successful collaboration between my mum and myself! First, the salmon:

Baked salmon with whatever is available in the fridge (serves 4-6)
Half a whole salmon
1 lemon, sliced
1 bunch of coriander
4 cloves garlic, crushed
1 glass white wine

1. Ask your mum to wash and scale and de-guck the salmon
2. Prepare 2 large square of foil, each comfortably big to wrap around the salmon, and lay on top of one another.
3. Put a layer of garlic, lemon, coriander on the middle of the foil, and lay fish on top. Repeat with some in the middle of the fish, and some on top.
4. Wrap foil tightly around the fish, until there is only one small edge left open. Pour in the wine, then tightly seal the end.
5. Bake at 200C for about 30 minutes, until fish is cooked.

And here it is, eaten traditionally with chopsticks, of course :)

My mum on the other hand was in charge of the duck. She seems to marinade it with a different thing each time, but this time it involved fermented bean curd on the outside (it is seriously yummy) and some hoisin sauce on the inside. The bean curd made the skin really savoury, and dad decided to carve it into slices rather than the traditional Chinese way - most excellent:

Unsurprisingly, we had tons of leftover fish and duck (much better than turkey leftovers!). My parents ran off with most of the duck, leaving the duck legs for me to munch on in front of the telly. There was tons of fish left, so I decided to experiment with a kedgeree. I adore kedgeree, and this was my first time at making it, and it was sooooooooo awesome. Here is the Nigella recipe that I plagarised:

Asian-spiced kedgeree (serves 2)
About 200g leftover salmon, flaked
3 soft boiled eggs
1 small onion, finely chopped
1/2 tsp cumin
1/2 tsp coriander seeds, crushed
1/2 tsp tumeric
100g basmati rice
250ml water
Juice of 1 lime
1 handful of chopped fresh coriander
A little fish sauce

1. Fry the onion in a little butter and oil in a heavy bottomed pan (I used my little Le Creuset casserole), along with the cumin, coriander seeds and tumeric until the onion is slightly translucent.
2. Add the rice, and mix well to coat the rice with the spicy onion mixture. Add in the water and leave to simmer on a very low heat for about 15 minutes, stirring once in a while to stop it sticking.
3. Once the rice is cooked through, add the fish, eggs and stir gently, trying not to break up the fish too much. Add in the lime juice, coriander, fish sauce, and stir again.
4. Close the lid briefly for about 5 mins to warm up the fish and eggs. Eat for brunch!

And for those of you who are wondering what was the first thing I ate when I came back from South America, here is a little treat. Actually the first thing I ate was Nando's, given it was 10pm when I got home and it was the only thing opened, but what I am counting is this: fish fingers for breakfast, served with Nando's coleslaw. Food of the gods!! And apparently it looked so pretty it 'looked like something from Tetsuya's'!

Winter warmers

Given that it was 30C in Kenya, and approaching summer when I left Sydney, it's surprising that I'm surviving the cold in London right now! It is the weather for stews and casseroles, and I also wanted to cook something new for a change, so I experimented with an oxtail casserole. I would also like to claim that it was a credit-crunch inspired choice, but it was bloody difficult tracking down oxtail in central London, and stewing steak is probably a lot cheaper.

Oxtail cooked in Guinness (serves 3-4)
1.5 kg oxtail, chopped into inch pieces
2 onions, roughly chopped
2 carrots, roughly chopped
4 cloves of garlic, peeled but kept whole
Flour
1 bottle Guinness
1 pint beef stock
6 bay leaves
Salt and pepper

1. Dust the oxtail in seasoned flour, shaking off the excess. Brown the oxtail pieces in a hot pan on all sides to seal the meat, taking care not to overcrowd the pan

2. Remove the oxtail and place into a large casserole dish. Back in the frying pan, add the onions, garlic and carrots and fry on a medium heat for 5 or so mins.

3. Deglaze the pan with the Guinness, and pour the whole lot into the casserole. Pour over the beef stock until most of the oxtail is covered. Tuck in the bay leaves.

4. Put into a very low oven (Gas Mark 1, around 140C), and let it cook for 3 to 3.5 hours.

5. Serve with mash, lots of it!

Not the prettiest thing in the world, but so lovely on a cold night. We also had a visit from the local ginger cat that night (who is very fat and spoiled by the looks of things) - we offered some of the scraps of bone after we were done, and she turned her nose up at it!!

Further adventures at the top of the South Island

After Kaikoura, we ventured north to the top of New Zealand's South Island to the Abel Tasman National Park area where the sea continued to be turquoisey blue, and the scenery remained amazing. We opted to stay in a self-contained chalet with cooking facilities, so we were able to have some cooking adventures.

One of the big landmarks of New Zealand is the Split Apple Rock just off a little town called Kaiteriteri.

As we were playing about on the beach, we noticed multiple rocks with mussels growing on them (and this is the bit where New Zealand police might want to arrest me). We were actually a bit disappointed with the huge green lipped mussels which are most popular in NZ, so we were very excited to see that this variety, which were the smaller type similar to those eaten in Europe. Obviously we couldn't let it go to waste, so plucked a kilo or two, and cooked the following recipe:

Moules on the move (serves 2)
2-3kg of small mussels
1 tbsp of oil
1 finely chopped onion
1 glass of white wine

1. Thoroughly wash the mussels, scraping off any barnacles clinging onto the shells, and remove any beards. Discard any mussels which are not closed, and will not close even if you tap them gently
2. Fry onion gently in the oil over a medium heat in a deep pan which will comfortably accommodate all the mussels, until soft but not brown
3. Tip the mussels into the pan, and add in the wine
4. Put a lid tightly onto the pan, and shake.
5. Wait for 3-5 mins until all the mussels have opened up
6. Eat, mopping up the juices with good bread.

If you are doing this at home rather than in an ill-equipped holiday chalet, definitely add some parsley. Other variations I like are to do it with bacon and cider (replacing the wine), and also one with garlic, ginger and coconut milk.

I loved seeing all the beautiful lambs as we were driving all around NZ (there are 40 million sheep to 4 million people), so obviously we had to eat some (hee hee). The lamb was so beautiful that we ate it 4 nights in a row! We were blessed with a barbeque, so we did some very simple barbequed lamb racks which had been marinated in garlic and rosemary. The spring asparagus had also just bloomed, delicious!