Wednesday, 2 January 2013

Sprouts - Mini cabbage genius

Wooooo it's 2013 and time to be good (better, anyway) and all that jazz. It seems my current favourite cookbook (yes I have jumped on the excellent Ottoloenghi band-wagon and am obsessed with 'Jerusalem') is packed with healthy, interesting, veggie based ideas that make my mouth water. This is a good thing and it's already changing the way I think about meals and putting dishes together. I can't really blog every recipe I cook from the book, that wouldn't be very interesting for anyone, but basically, if you haven't got it, buy it, and be happy forever!

You know when it's all got a bit indulgent when you are lying on the sofa/floor hungover, and all you can think about is green veg and how much you would like some. This was me yesterday, New Year's Day. Happy bloody new year. I grilled a load of asparagus (yeah I know it's not in season and was from Peru or something but we can't all be perfectly seasonal all the time) and devoured it with glee, with a bit of olive oil, salt and lemon juice. Simple. And I felt better. My body hadn't quite forgiven me for drinking the crate of Cava the night before but we were getting there. Veg is good and although I eat a fair bit, I need more. I want to think of it less of something on the side of my meat, boiled quickly and without much thought, and more of part of the main event. Fear not, I am not going to suppress my carniverous side but try to eat more veg and enjoy it in interesting and new ways.

Sad sprouts
Look at these sprouts. They look so sad an un-appetising, and have never been top of my list. I eat them becuase they are good for me and The Boyfriend loves them. I don't like them on their own, but with a nice salty partner, classic sprouts and pancetta at Christmas is great, but why just Christmas? I saw something on telly the other day where they were really finely sliced and used in a sort of fritter and I couldn't believe I had never thought to do something like that. They are really mini-cabbages, and when sliced up take on a whole different persona, and are great in anything from stir-fries to pasta. Even when they are a few weeks old and bit wrinkly, just take off the outer leaves and it's good as new.

This recipe for sprout and broccoli pasta was a ready steady cook moment, really couldn't be arsed to go to the shops but we were both starving hungry and needed a quick lunch. Everything is done in the time it takes for the pasta to boil. Feeds 2. Get enough pasta for 2 boiling away, I used linguine this time, but only because it was all I had. Take a handful of brussels sprouts (yep just found out it's brussels, not brussel!), trim, remove any skanky bits and finely slice. Take a handful of broccoli florets and also slice finely, you want it to cook quickly. If I was making this just for me I would have finely sliced most of the 'trunk' of the broccoli as I love it, but that would have been a step too far for The Boyfriend. Toast a handful of pine nuts in a dry frying pan until golden. Eat a few while still hot. Don't burn your mouth or fingers. In a medium saucepan, heat a splash of olive oil and gently fry the sprouts, broccoli, a chopped chilli/pinch of chilli flakes and a sliced clove of garlic until softened but still with a little bite. Add a splash of white wine and let it bubble away for a minute. Add a tbsp creme fraiche/single cream and a handful of grated parmesan. Season with lots of black pepper. Drain the pasta, but add a splash of the cooking water to the pan with the veg, add the pasta to the veg pan with the pine nuts and mix well. Dig in.

I am aware this is a very simple and basic pasta recipe but this time last year I wouldn't have used sprouts in that way, and I wanted to share it! It's a good 'use up the dregs in the fridge' recipe, just chop up whatever veg you have and go with it. It's so good The Boyfriend didn't even notice there was no meat in it...

Wednesday, 19 December 2012

Celariac Remoulade - For When Coleslaw won't cut it

This nobbly bobbly rather ugly root vegetable is transformed into an elegant and punchy side dish when finely shredded and mixed with some saucy ingredients. Do not judge the humble celariac by it's lumps and bumps but rather it's nutty sweet flavour and awesome crunch. This remoulade recipe is a French classic and the recipe might change slightly depending on your source but it's a wonderful crunchy tangy side dish which goes brilliantly with roast meat, especially game, as it contrasts so well with the rich flavours. Also amazing with ham and it wouldn't be too shabby with the Christmas turkey either. If i'm honest, I would only attempt this with the help of a food processer as you'll be there all day grating without one!

Feeds 6 as a side dish. Using a big sharp knife, cut off the outer rough layer of one whole celariac and cut into chunks which will fit down the chute of your food processor. Shred the pieces (rather than fine gratings you want little match sticks if possible) and immediately place in a bowl and mix with the juice of a lemon (otherwise you end up with manky brown celariac). Combine 3 tbsp mayonaise, 2tbsp creme fraiche and two tbsp Dijon mustard and add a big handful of chopped parsley. Mix well with the celariac and season. Leave it for half an hour to let the celariac mellow a little and serve.

Stick to one celariac for 6 people. I went over board and made far too much, and it doesn't keep very well, after a day or two, it turns into a nice mushy mess that you wouldn't give to your dog. Except we did give it to the dog and he wouldn't eat it.


Sunday, 2 December 2012

Pigeon Wellie

Living up to expectations is something we all attempt at times, and I had a request to cook pigeon wellington for a little dinner party I put together for my old Dad. Having never cooked it before, even with beef, I turned to my friend Google who came up with lots of annoyingly different versions, so I came up with my own (although I am aware this is hardly break-through cooking as it is a very simple dish to make). One of Dad's favourite things in the world is the delectably controversial foie gras, so it made sense to use that to add both sweetness and depth, and a bit of moisture for those little weeny pigeon breasts. I made six but you  can very easily change the recipe to make as few or as many as you need.

Take a dry frying pan, get it hot and dry fry one finely sliced chestnut mushroom per person, sprinkling over a little salt. This will draw out the moisture to help avoid soggy welly syndrome. Put the mushrooms to the side, once they have dried out again, In the same frying pan, heat a splash of oil and flash fry two pigeon breasts per person and season as you go. Literally just seal the meat, but make sure the pan is hot enough to get a nice colour very quickly. Put the pan to the side and DO NOT WASH IT UP! You need those juices for your sauce later. You will need one roll of puff pastry for two wellingtons, and it's just a matter of construction now! Cut an un-rolled piece of pastry into two pieces. Put a single layer of mushrooms towards the bottom of the piece, in the middle, put two pigeon breasts on top and then place slices of foie gras pate on top. Brush egg wash around your little pile and fold the pastry over. Gently push the edges down and cut away any excess pastry, and brush the whole package with egg wash to make sure it goes golden brown. If you really want to test your creative skills, cut out a little pigeon shape from the pastry trimmings and place on top of each welly. When they are all ready, cook in a pre-heated oven at 180c for about 20 minutes (really it's as soon as the pastry is cooked as the pigeon wants as little cooking as possible). De-glaze the pigeon pan with a splash of red wine and make a nice little gravy (or jus if you have your fancy pants on). This is magic with celeriac remoulade which I will post later.

Don't be too shocked, as I was, when the wellingtons have almost doubled in size, the clue is in the name, puff pastry.

Sunday, 4 November 2012

Slightly Greek Slow Roast Lamb

A carving-free zone, thank God. 
Carving meat has never been my strong point. I have been known to reduce a perfectly roasted chicken into undignified smithereens, a mess on the carving board that looked anything but appetising. I always feel a contradiction of emotions when the time comes to carve; pride that I have cooked dinner, but a teeny amount of disappointment in myself that although I have cooked it, I can't carve it properly, and even more shame that I don't really mind and kind of like hollering for The Boyfriend to come and do his job. It has always been that way though in my family, Mum would slave away only to call Dad to carve (and get clawed by the cat until he succumbed and gave him tit bits). The point of this little insight into my Sundays is to announce that I can't carve, and to give praise for the gift of the slow cooked joint, in this case lamb. After 5 or 6 hours, even I can take two forks or even two pairs of tongs and rip away to my heart's content, tearing the soft threads of meat and pulling the bone clean away with minimal effort. I cooked this yesterday and started out wanting to cook Klefitico ( I love a Greek theme) but I didn't want it to be all tomatoey, so, er, I left the tomatoes out and improvised.

Feeds 6. Pre-heat the oven to 180c. Take a large deep roasting tin and double line with long pieces of foil in both directions. Now line again with a long piece of baking parchment. Slice three onions thickly and take a whole bulb of garlic and cut in half horizontally. Put all this in the tin with a few bay leaves. Place a leg of lamb in the tin and rub with a mixture of seasoned olive oil and oregano (dried is fine). Pour a generous glass of white wine into the tin. Bring the baking parchment up over the lamb and then the foil, making a nice parcel that won't let the juice out. Put in the oven for about 5 hours. Then you...oh, that's it.

I cooked this for a Saturday night supper with friends, and roasted some chopped skin-on potatoes which I then put in a massive dish with the lamb and poured all the juice and onion over. I made a yoghurty garlicky sauce to go with it. Or you could do proper roasties and have this on a Sunday. Either way, give the meat a good 15 minutes rest with some foil on top before you shred the meat to pieces and grin with satisfaction as you grab the bone and it comes away in your hand.

Wednesday, 24 October 2012

Slow Cooked Fennel - a very sexy side dish

Divine and effortless
There's nothing more refreshing and satisfying than the crunch of raw fennel, either in bold chunks or delicately shaved wisps, the clean aniseed flavour never fails to lift my spirits or provide a bit of pep to a dish, but this, oh this is something else! I had one of those 'Why has it taken me so long to try this?' moments last night as the pan of shiny, caramelised slices of fennel bubbled away in front of me. Excuse the melodrama but it was really good, the once crunchy punchy fennel had massively mellowed in flavour but still held it's shape with a much softer texture. I ate this with some hake marinated in bay and garlic, but I can't wait to eat this with a roast chook. It would also be amazing with lamb chop, oh and pork chops come to think of that, so basically anything. You could throw the fennel in to roast with the chicken instead of in a frying pan, but the pan does keep the moisture in and stops it browning too much.

Allow one fennel bulb per person. Cut each bulb length ways into 5 or 6 pieces so you have quite chunky cross sections, saving any green fronds. Take a frying pan that will fit the fennel in one layer and heat some olive oil until practically smoking. Lay the fennel in the pan and give it a good blast for about 5 minutes on each side until lightly golden.  Now turn the heat down to minimum and give it another 10 minutes on each side, gently caramelising further, but don't let it burn, we want brown not black. For each 2 bulbs, add one thinly sliced clove of garlic to the pan and let it cook for 1 minute. Add enough water to come half way up the fennel slices (not too much) and let it bubble away until the water has evaporated. Season and throw over the chopped fronds before serving. Now enjoy fennel's softer side.

Friday, 19 October 2012

Coq Au Vin Risotto

Pink risotto, what more could you ask for?
Yeah, you heard me. I love a risotto made with red wine rather than white, but normally I slather it in a sinful dollop of melty blue cheese sauce and feel guilty for, oh, about 5 minutes. This does what it says on the tin. I like coq au vin, I like red wine with my roast chicken and I like risotto. A happy French-Italian partnership. Perfecto! I nearly always make chicken and tarragon risotto with Sunday roast leftovers and it was nice to have a change. I used spring onions instead of normal ones for a slightly different taste and the green flecks looked pretty. And I like pretty.

Genius rice box
Feeds two. Melt a knob of butter and gently fry the white bits of 5 spring onions that have been finely chopped into rounds. Save the green bits. After they have started to soften, add a big finely chopped clove of garlic or two. After a further minute of cooking add approx 2 big hand-fulls of Aborio risotto rice (the packet always says 75g per person but as a greedy mare I don't think this is enough). With risotto I always end up with too much, but far worse things can happen in life. Stir well and make sure all the rice is coated in butter and glistening, and pour in a glass of red wine. You know the rest, let it absorb, stirring all the time, then add hot chicken stock (don't be lazy, make your own, it takes all of 3 seconds after a roast and you end up not wasting anything) ladle by ladle, making sure it is absorbed by the rice before adding more, until the rice is plump and cooked, but not too mushy. You will need about a litre in total, possibly less. About two ladles before it is done, add the finely chopped green parts of the spring onions you were dealing with before. In a separate little frying pan, fry a hand-full of diced pancetta until super crispy and add to the rice (it's crispier this way rather than frying it with the spring onions at the beginning). One ladle before it is finished add shredded leftover roast chicken and some mushrooms if you like (for real coq au vin you need them but they are on the very long list of dislikes belonging to The Boyfriend). Before serving stir in a hand-full of freshly grated Parmesan and top with some chopped parsley and more Parmesan.

Devour, curled up on the sofa and tease The Boyfriend that his has been thrown in the bin due to his lack of presence at dinner time. I would never be that wasteful, but I did make him panic for just the right amount of time which is until he nearly had a hungry nervous breakdown and nearly resorted to a Burger King at Waterloo.

Thursday, 11 October 2012

Holiday Hangover Cure

I found this hard to believe but after over 24 hours travelling back from Australia this Monday, by the time I had managed to stay awake ALL day (with only about 5 little mini snoozes) I really wasn't in the mood for cooking. However, The Boyfriend and I had spent the last 2 weeks eating and drinking our way round Melbourne and Sydney, investigating every tray of plane food on offer (you get cool un-identifiable stuff on Malaysia Airways) we were in desperate need for something healthy, clean and soothing. Having noticably tighter jeans and vowing to get back to the gym, fish will be on our plates a lot more often and it started on Monday. This was super easy (although it felt like a complete mission when fully jet-lagged) and would make a perfect remedy to an over enthusiastic weekend of binge drinking as well as healing broken travellers.

Fish with garlicky spinach and butterbeans. Feeds 2. Pre-heat oven to 180c. Get a small baking tray and pop in 2 white fish fillets. Squeeze and sprinkle over the juice and zest of one lemon, some dried chilli flakes and a drizzle of olive oil and season. Bake for 20 minutes. Meanwhile gently soften a small sliced onion in a saucepan/deep frying pan. Once soft and slightly coloured add a couple of chopped garlic cloves. Add a tin of drained butterbeans (you could use any pulse here, lentils, chickpeas, it's all good) and warm through for 2 minutes. Finally add 200g washed spinach and let it wilt down before mixing through. Check for seasoning and plonk the spinachy bean mixture on a plate and top with the fish which will now be cooked and a bit crispy on the top. Give it a lick of extra virgin olive oil and realise you have no idea what day it is or what time it is. But it doesn't matter because you have nice supper.