Fish Stew with Absinthe

Gently does it...

It sounds hardcore but it's not really. You only use a little slurp of green crazy juice, and to be perfectly honest I only used it because I was out of Pernod (isn't everyone, apart from my Dad?!). I was planning on making this lovely fish stew from my trusty Casa Moro book, but I then discovered my epic fail of an Ocado shop had left me lacking a few bits and bobs, so I changed it quite a bit to suit what I had and it was bloody lovely. This is a light supper (N.B. the Boyfriend wailed with hunger an hour after eating it and had to resort to a mug of Bovril and bread, but it suited me fine). Take your time cooking this, and the simple flavours will all hold hands and create something magical.

Feeds 2. Steep a pinch of saffron in an eggcup of boiling water. Finely chop a small onion and cook gently in olive oil, with a pinch of salt, in a medium saucepan for a good 10 minutes, until gently caramelised. Now add a finely shopped bulb of fennell (save any fronds) and two sliced cloves of garlic and cook for a further 10 minutes. Add a slurp of Absinthe or Pernod and let it bubble for a couple of minutes to get rid of the alcohol. There, see, not so scary now. In a pestle and mortar roughly grind a handful of blanched,

The green fairy

toasted almonds and add to the pan. Add a good litre of hot water and peeled, diced potatoes (I used one big Maris Piper), the saffron water, lots of seasoning, bring to the boil, and simmer gently, lid off, until the potatoes are just under-cooked. Now for the fish. You can use whatever you like, any little clams, mussels, white fish, squid, anything. I used 150g diced cod and a big handful of raw tiger prawns. Give a gentle stir and simmer for a further two minutes with the lid on. Taste for seasoning, add more if you need it (I found it needed lots of salt), squeeze in the juice of half a lemon and serve in bowls with the chopped fennel fronds on top (use parsley if you don't have enough). Add a final flourish with a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil. Some bread is useful to mop up the juices.

This stew really does have the most beautiful delicate fragrance and I'm glad I resisted the urge to go mental on the flavours. Hold back, and you will be rewarded with the most gentle taste sensation. Which, in my case was ruined by the Boyfriend's holler of 'What??? There's no more???' and a request that I make rice pudding  immediately to fill him up.

Pre Party Rabbit

Gone are the days when eating before going out for a night on the lash was unnecessary. 'Eating is cheating' was the mantra. I secretly never liked this, as I just love eating too much, but there was always the kebab on the way home to look forward to. These days I like to line my stomach. Eating is not cheating, but a way to lessen the likely-hood of ending up face-down on the dance floor (but not a guarantee) and will certainly add a bit of longevity to the evening's festivities. 

I was on holiday with two girlfriends in Spain recently, Lanzarote to be precise, and determined that we were not too old to impersonate the teens on 'Sun, Sex & Suspicious Parents' we partied like 17 year olds on day release from dull summer jobs. I reckon it was all down to this rabbit stew but apparently the helpful barmen had something to do with it too. 

Eating is most definitely not cheating

Feeds three for dinner with enough sauce for a restorative pasta sauce a few days later. 

Take one jointed rabbit and brown well in some olive oil in a big saucepan. Remove and set aside. In the same pan gently fry one finely chopped onion for five minutes, then add a couple of cloves of finely chopped garlic and continue until softened. Add more oil if you need it. Pour in a glass of white wine and let it bubble away the alcohol for a minute or so (don't worry, there will be plenty of booze later). Return the rabbit to the pan along with a tin of passata or chopped tomatoes and a big teaspoon of hot paprika. Simmer gently with the lid on for about 40 minutes, or until the rabbit is very tender and easy to remove from the bone. Add a tin of drained chickpeas 10 minutes before the end of cooking, add a decent slurp of single cream or creme fraiche and season well. Slop into bowls with some crusty bread and top with some chopped flat leaf parsley. If you're a bit of a wuss with bones, by all means take the meat off the bone, but we had horrible cocktails beckoning us so I didn't have time. 

Go out and party, safe in the knowledge that your Mother would be happy with the sensible dinner you have just eaten, and don't worry too much about falling in a cactus round about 6am on the way home. 

White Chocolate & Cardamom Mousse - Heaven in a ramekin

Mostly air so pretty healthy right?

Everyone loves a chocolate pudding (don't they?!), but this one is special. It's white, it's light, it's fluffy and it's delicately scented with the exotic aroma of cardamom, with a sneaky bit of bay in there as well. It turns out cardamom and bay are really good friends and play very nicely together. Gotta love a pud that can be whipped up in advance and left to set in the fridge while you frantically trash the kitchen creating the rest of dinner. It's so nice to just reach into the fridge, et voila, pudding is served, look how organised I am...

Makes 8 little ramekin sized mousses. You will need three bowls for this, or two bowls and a measuring jug, as I don't have three mixing bowls. Not serious. Use the biggest one for the egg whites.

Pour 100ml milk into a small saucepan, add 8 pre-bashed green cardamom pods and three bay leaves and gently heat. Just before it boils, turn the heat off and leave to infuse for about 5 minutes. Meanwhile, melt 250g white chocolate (go with Green & Blacks, it's worth it) in a bowl over a saucepan of boiling water. Watch it, because if you keep heating it after it has melted it can go lumpy, so remove from the saucepan when melted. Whip 300ml double cream to soft mound status, and in a separate bowl, beat three egg whites to stiff peak turn the bowl upside down over your head status. Strain the milk through a sieve into the melted chocolate and stir it in really well until it becomes a bit velvety. A whisk makes this easier than a spoon. With a metal spoon, fold the milky chocolate mixture into the egg whites, and once gently combined, fold in the whipped cream, making sure it's combined really well, but don't smack all the air out. This is a mousse, not a blancmange. Pour into ramekins/teacups/one big bowl and leave to set in the fridge for at least two hours, longer if you have it.

You can sprinkle some cocoa powder on top before handing them out, but last night, after too many vinos, I forgot. Oooh some artistically grated dark chocolate would be nice... woah, let's not get carried away. Once served, these little beauties should disappear in less than 30 seconds. If they don't, you're doing it wrong.

To Sear or Not To Sear? A Beef Carpaccio Dilemma

For many meat lovers, a beautiful beef carpaccio is a sight to behold. Ruby red wafer thin slices of raw fillet beef artfully displayed, ready to almost dissolve on your tongue, with some kind of crunchy vegetable adornment slicked in a tangy vinaigrette, pure heaven. To others, it's simply raw beef, and un-thinkable. Well think again. Never one to go cheapo on his guests, my Dad loves to 'make' carpaccio and it's always divine. Last week however, he took Jamie Oliver's  advice and seared the fillet first. He was rather concerned about this, but I thought it was a great idea. The beef would still 99% raw, but you get the divine flavour from searing it which simply does not exist with the fully raw one. If you want to get technical, read this about the 'Maillard' reaction which goes to some lengths to explain why you sear meat for a casserole, why it tastes good, and why it is important.

Or you could just cook take a very decent fillet of beef (you only need a little per person so no need to go overboard, Dad), rub a little olive oil all over it, season really well, and sear on all sides in a very hot pan, no need to add any more oil as you've oiled your beef already. If the pan is hot enough it should only take a minute or two per side, you want a deep golden brown colour all over. Slice as thin as you can and serve on a pretty place, sprinkled with shaved fennel, a little grated orange zest, rocket, shaved Parmesan, a dribble of extra virgin olive oil and a little more salt and pepper. 

Searing the beef makes it much less 'scary' even though it is still essential raw. The searing troubled Dad for some reason, he couldn't slice the beef as thinly as when it's all raw and semi frozen (helps you slice it thinner as it stays firm), but I can't see the harm in freezing it once seared and then slicing it.

What Dad should have been worried about was how much his head would hurt the next day, after staying up well past his bedtime with my Godfather, un-supervised, with a bottle of brandy. The beef was delicious, his hangover was not.

Lazy Fried Aubergine

I may have burnt one little slice...

It always seems a shame to cut up the mighty aubergine, it's just so beautiful, but it definitely makes it easier to cook with. This is a great super fast nibble that you can produce in no time. I don't even bother salting the aubergine, although if I had more time I think I would, to see if it made any difference. A really nice starter, which I like to make when the aubergine-hating (what a freak) Boyfriend is away. This could be done with courgettes just as successfully.

Feeds 2/3 as a starter. Bash one big clove of garlic with a pinch of salt in a pestle and mortar until you have a garlicky mush. Stir in about 200g natural yoghurt and set aside. Slice one aubergine into thick rounds. Heat a splash of olive oil in a non-stick frying pan. Dip each slice of aubergine into a small bowl of milk, then roll it around a small dish with seasoned flour in it. You want a decent covering of flour. Once the oil is hot, fry until golden on each side and place on kitchen roll to get rid of excess oil (those pesky aubergines do like to suck it up). Sprinkle with salt flakes and roughly chopped fresh mint (really important to add some fresh zing)  and serve with the garlic yoghurt. 

You may stink of garlic for a while, but it's all good, and life is too short to worry about things like that.

The Secret to Amazing Boiled Eggs with Soldiers

Is it weird that I'm 30 and I can't have a soft boiled egg without soldiers? Do I care? No. And no I'm not
going to tell you how to boil an egg, Delia can do that. I'm going to let you in on a little secret (cue everyone saying they do this already)...

After you butter your toast, and before you slice it into soldiers, grind salt and pepper over it.* That is all.

*I only realised how necessary salt and pepper were to this delightful nursery breakfast after watching The Boyfriend struggle to season his egg, having to top up every few mouth-fulls. Giggling with smugness I simply seasoned my toast as he looked on incredulously. It was, I admit, probably the most sensible thing I have ever done.

Pink Dip! Or Beetroot Dip (if you're not a girl)

A dipper's delight

One day I will think of something more inventive to give to hungry supper guests on arrival, than various bowls of various dips, but for the time being I will stick with it. It's nice to be able to wizz up multi-coloured bowls to stab/scoop at and loose the odd tortilla chip in, and none are prettier than this one. Healthy, delicious and PINK this is very much based on Ottolenghi's recipe from Jerusalem. I have made it with both fresh beets and those clever vacuum packed cooked ones, and although the latter are far quicker and are less likely to dip-dye your fingers, I would definitely recommend cooking raw ones, as the result is let wet, and I'm sure the colour was more intense. Which is obviously the most important issue when making pink food...

Feeds 6 as part of a platter, or as a nibble before dinner kicks off properly. Pre-heat the oven to 180c. Cut the leaves off and wash 6 raw beets, dry and wrap each one in a little foil blanket and roast on a tray for about 45 mins to an hour, until they are softened. Carefully (they're HOT) unwrap the beets and leave to cool. Once cooled, peel the beetroot and slice into rough wedges. If using ready cooked beets, start the recipe here. In a food processer, wizz the beets, 2 cloves of sliced garlic, half a red chilli, seeds removed and chopped, 3 large tbsp natural yoghurt, some salt and pepper and juice of half a lemon. Once it's pretty smooth, stir in a really decent drizzle of extra virgin olive oil, a tbsp za'atar and more seasoning if you need it. Artfully plop in a shallow bowl and garnish with 3 finely sliced spring onions, a small hand-full of toasted almond slivers (or hazelnuts, or pine nuts), some crumbled goats cheese or feta and an even more artistic sprinkling of olive oil.