...and other recipes

SEITZGEIST

2010-08-22T20:21:00.001+01:00

My blog has moved to www.seitzgeist.blogspot.com where I'm still blogging about food, but other stuff too. Come and say hello.

SHE'S BACK, AND SHE'S SIX STONE HEAVIER

2009-12-21T13:48:00.009Z

It’s snowing outside, Cranford’s on TV, the fire’s roaring and I’m eating Bendicks Bittermints. I’m in heaven. Yes, I've been absent for aaaages but we'll come to that in another post. What can I say? I've got no broadband at home. Annoying? Just a BIT.

Not actually six stone, but I suspect I’ve gained about half a stone in the past week. I’ve been inhaling mince pies by the dozen and every evening is punctuated by several glasses of red wine. I pulled out my running shoes this morning but one look at the ice on the pavements had me throwing them back in the cupboard. Fire on and mug of tea in hand I sunk into the sofa in front of National Lampoons Christmas Vacation instead. I can deal with my winter layer of fat another day.

Meanwhile anything remotely crisp, fresh and brightly coloured has been abandoned from my diet and evening meals consist of what I refer to as ‘brown food’: deep, rich burgundy stews, thick hearty soups, lots of meat, lots of starches and lots of red wine. Oh and puddings – and I use the term pudding deliberately rather than dessert – think molten chocolate, oozing treacle and dark sticky toffee.

And then of course once Christmas is out of the way thoughts turn to New Year. I can take or leave New Year’s Eve – all that palaver for a tick of the clock? Hello anti-climax. Maybe I’ve just never had a really great Hogmanay. There was the year I spent it in the St John’s Ambulance tent in town while my then flatmate passed the stroke of midnight by throwing up into a papier mache dish, or the millennium, when my I was driving up from Derbyshire to spend the turn of the century with friends but I ran out of petrol, so instead spent it cold, pissed off and sober at the side of a B road, waiting for the AA to turn up. There was also the year when Carrie and I lived together and I got plastered on home-measure Manhattans, so that when she was raring to go, I was collapsed, drunk and melancholy on the floor. The weather was so awful they cancelled the street party, so we resigned ourselves to watching Jools Holland instead. Then the TV broke. So we switched on the radio. And it broke too. We spent midnight Carrie and I, me drunk and incomprehensible and her staring longingly out of the window wondering what she’d done to deserve such a crap lot. It’s the crazy frenzied level of expectation which invariably results in a let down. I’m happy to admit that one of the best new years I’ve had was the one I spent alone in bed, with a huge box of chocolates, a bottle of Champagne and the Sex And The City box set.

New year’s day on the other hand, I’m fully on board with. I’d much rather welcome the first day of the year with open arms than say a tearful drink-fuelled goodbye to the old one while trying to desperately remember what comes after ‘we’ll tak’ a cup o’ kindness yet’. And then there’s the food. Black bun? Cake! And steak pie? Oh aye. Even the booze has an air of food about it - Bloody Mary’s are, after all, kinda like alcoholic cold soup. Without the pressure of the impending midnight, January 1st is a perfect day to relax with friends in a cosy pub before trudging home to feed alcohol-soaked bodies with brown food. A poke about in Nigella's Feast and this is one of my all-time favourite comfort food/hangover cure dishes: it’s rich, it’s warming and it’s filling. Puy lentils braised in red wine and eaten with sausages which have been cooked in the oven until brown and sticky. The beauty of this dish is that, save for a little initial chopping, it doesn’t require a huge amount of attention but rather can be left on the stove to putter away while you nurse your hangover with a hair of the dog. Oh, and please please don’t prick your sausages – you’ll lose all the lovely flavour. Incidentally, this dish is traditionally eaten at New Year in Italy, the lentils signifying coins and supposedly promising good fortune in the year ahead. Bonus!

LENTILS BRAISED IN RED WINE WITH SAUSAGES

good quality sausages, 2 per person or 3 for greedy folk
1 carrot, peeled and finely chopped
2 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
1 stick of celery, finely chopped
1 onion, finely chopped
smoked pancetta cubes or streaky bacon finely chopped
olive oil
500g Puy lentils, rinsed
2 bay leaves
Dijon mustard
300ml red wine
750ml water or stock
fresh parsley

Put the sausages in the oven and let them do their thing.

Heat about three tablespoons of oil in a large heavy based pan and add the pancetta. Cook gently until it colours lightly.

Add the carrot, garlic, celery and onion, and cook until they’ve softened a little but don’t let them colour.

Tip in the lentils, stir until slicked with the oil and add a couple of teaspoons of Dijon mustard.

Pour in the wine and water or stock until the lentils are just covered in liquid, tuck in the bay leaves, bring to the boil then turn down the heat, cover and simmer for about 30 minutes or until just tender.

Check the seasoning, stir in chopped parsley and serve with sticky sausages.

'..UNTIL TOMORROW, I'LL JUST KEEP MOVING ON....'

2009-10-01T17:02:00.003+01:00

So I’ve been sleeping on my ex-boyfriend’s sofa for four months. Yes, I said four months. Count them. Onetwothreefour. That’s approximately 120 days. On a very-narrow-and-not-very-comfortable-sofa. Which belongs to and resides in the home of my ex-boyfriend. It’s been interesting. For the past, oh, say four months he’s had a haunted look in his eye and an increasingly deep furrow in his brow.

There’s a lengthy back story which I’ll give you in a nutshell: we split up aaaaaaages ago but were fortunate enough to remain friends (I mean proper friends - the type who have both since had other relationships and it’s not been weird). I was sharing a flat with a friend, I got made redundant, ergo had to move out, ex let me crash on his sofa for a ‘couple of weeks’ til I sorted my shit out…. and here we are.

Anyway, the reason I’m telling you this is because last month the ark angel Gabriel and his chorus of cherubs parted the sky and sent their countless blessings down to me (and my ex) and found me a flat. A teeny tiny toaty wee flat but a flat all the same. With an actual bed.

So this time four weeks ago I was deep in the throws of packing. Now give or take the odd book or doll from my childhood which is steeped in sentimental value, and of course my ‘things’ which make a home a home, I’m not really much of a hoarder. In fact I’m pretty good at throwing stuff out. Ruthless in fact. If someone gives me a gift and I don’t like it, I get rid of it, no worries about hurt feelings. If something’s been in a box and I haven’t even thought about it for three months, it goes. And so it was that I ended up lugging two massive Ikea bags worth of books to a wee second hand Bookshop and another load of tat, sorry stuff, to charity shops. Great. My self-imposed ‘be ruthless’ rule was working really well. And then I started on the kitchen.

I have an apparent emotional bond to every single utensil I own. The concept of attachment is taken to a whole new level when it comes to me and my kitchen stuff. And as for my cookery books…. I imagine I feel something similar to that which a new mother feels when she leaves her baby for the first time at the thought of off-loading any of those. I have more than I’d care to elaborate and amongst them are books from which I’ve never cooked, and never will. I just like the pictures. And then there are the ones with page marker ribbons. And lovely matt pages. And beautiful styling and photography. And have you seen the dishes and jars and utensils? And the writer’s houses? And I WANT THEIR LIVES.

And then there’s my pink spatulas. So lovely. My collection of salad servers. The lovely wee dessert cups with matching spoons that I’ve never used (but I will). The wee white ramekins which come out once in a blue moon but I Absolutely Had To Have. The delicate glass tea cups and saucers which would be adorable to serve mint tea, and the cake stand which seldom sees a crumb. The espresso cups and saucers which are used as ornaments and the empty jars which I know will come in really useful for something. Not to mention the mandolin which I use probably twice a year and nearly caused me to lose the tip of my thumb one Christmas. The salad spinner, the lovely wee green jug from the Bethany Shop and the bamboo chop sticks. I am already panicking about how I’m going to fit all this in my new mini kitchen but could I get rid of any of it? Don’t be silly.

And then I found myself in a charity shop, buying a set of four pretty glasses that I really really needed, and then in town buying a kettle, a stove top coffee maker, a couple of really good sharp knives, a chopping board, some tea towels, a pretty tea storage jar (it’ll go so well with one I’ve got), and a set of new crockery: four dinner plates, side plates, bowls and mugs. I stood for over half an hour deliberating over two different types of zester (neither good enough) and my search for the perfect oven glove continues to elude me.

Do I need to get out more? Perhaps. I wonder if there’s such a thing as KSA? My name is Carine and I’m a Kitchen-Stuffaholic.

THE BIG DAY

2009-07-24T16:50:00.011+01:00

A few small things to remember should you ever find yourself offering to bake somewhere in the region of 150 cupcakes for your lovely friends' wedding:

- When only in the possession of one 12-cake muffin tray, don't keep meaning to buy another two or three, never quite get round to it and then think 'sod it, it'll be fine'. Anyone with a very basic grasp of maths will be able to work out that this means baking 150 cupcakes will take somewhere in the region of 9 hours.

- Do invest in an electric gadget for juicing the lemons if your cupcakes happen to be of the lemon variety. Enlist the help of anyone willing to zest said lemons or you'll grow to despise said lemons.

- Get someone else to calculate how much icing sugar you'll need or you may find yourself with a small surplus.

- When desperately prepping the decoration at midnight the night before the wedding due to the 9-hour baking stint during the day, don't use a dangerously sharp knife and talk on the phone at the same time. This is how people cut themselves.

- Don't settle for a piping bag with a smaller nozzle than you'd like in a bid to avoid spending £15 on a set of various really good over-sized nozzles. Your icing will resemble Primula.

- Try and avoid drinking Cava while baking, as this only leads to confusion and can result in not enough flour being added to the first batch of cake mix.

- Don't use the very nicest cake cases for the first batch of cake mix.

Enjoy!

GIRLIE CAKES FOR A VERY GIRLIE DAY

2009-06-09T10:37:00.006+01:00

A few weeks ago I wrote about Alex and Rowan's impending wedding and the inordinate number of lemon cupcakes I'll be baking for the occasion. I settled on an incredibly moist and light lemon yoghurt cake recipe by the Barefoot Contessa but struggled to find an adequately concentrated rose extract to create the rose-scented icing.

However, fear not, because I was pointed in the direction of Lakeland Plastics and a rose syrup by a brand called Atkins and Potts. Even while I was handing over my hard earned cash I remained unconvinced that it would be strong enough to cope with being diluted in tonnes of butter and sugar but you'll be thrilled and relieved to hear that it did the job admirably.

And so on Sunday I baked a proper trial batch, using the actual cases, and the actual decoration I'll be using on the actual day. This was mainly so that I could calculate the quantities of ingredients I'll require for the actual event, and partly because it was Sunday, there was a bottle of pink champagne chilled in the fridge and frankly why not? We ordered the cases from here, and the crystalised rose petals are from here. They're all the way from the Grasse countryside in France, where the flowers are gathered in the morning, gently dried and then coated in sugar syrup. They taste the way roses used to smell when you were little. Heavenly.

It's fair to say I'm not normally a pink girlie girl, but for a properly girlie occasion such as the civilisation of two lovely girls, I think we can make an exception.

CHICKPEA, FETA AND MINT SALAD AND HEROIC ACTS

2009-05-21T20:15:00.012+01:00

So, I've just started my new job at The List and I'm really enjoying it. My brain feels as though it might explode with all the new information it's storing, and I have the strange feeling you get when you're learning something new and you feel like you're never going to get your head around it even though you know full well you will.

I've been coming home from work desperately hungry, and in search of food I can throw together in no time at all. I've been slowly building up a wee craving for this over the past few days and it perfectly fit the category of food that takes minutes to prepare but still tastes fresh and delicious.

In other news, I've been running lots recently and am currently reading Haruki Murakami's book: What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. He didn't really start running properly until he was in his early thirties so his writing resonates with me in a way that other pieces don't - all to often I find writing on this subject patronising and elitist, as though you can't possibly consider yourself a runner unless you've run a marathon every year since you were six and 10k every morning before breakfast.

He talks at the beginning of the book about the mantras we use to keep ourselves going when things get tough:

"'Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.' Say you're running and you start think, Man this hurts, I can't take it anymore. The hurt part is an unavoidable reality, but whether or not you can stand any more is up to the runner himself. This pretty much sums up the most important aspect of marathon running."

This really struck a chord with me; in the main in relation to running of course, but I think this is something that can be applied to other parts of our life. I've resolved to make a conscious effort to rise above the annoying stuff and let it go over my head. It's easy to get bogged down with the inevitable crappy things life throws at us, but by opting not to, the crappy things feel less crappy and we feel happier and less bogged down as a result. It's really much easier to be happy and positive. It works.

I have confirmation that it works as a mantra for hideously painful races too - my friend (and now hero, incidentally) Kev completed The North Face 100 race through the Blue Mountains in Australia last weekend in 19 and a half hours. That's 100 KILOMETRES by the way, or the equivalent of over two marathons, running, over mountains, starting at 7am and finishing... well, you do the maths. This is an amazing achievement by anyone's standards and I'm completely in awe of what he's done. And I'm sure Murakami would be thrilled to know that this little mantra helped him through some tough points in the course.

EAT: LEITH

2009-04-26T16:35:00.015+01:00

I live in an area in the East of Edinburgh called Leith which encompasses a working port, a (sometimes even sunny) shore lined with bars and restaurants (including no less than three Michelin star-winning establishments) and a very proud community. There circulates a small but nonetheless popular magazine called The Leither for which I have done various odd pieces of writing in the past, but with a new editorship has come an opportunity for me to settle into a more permanent slot as food writer of-sorts. I have been given a page on which to write freely, which is a brilliant opportunity in terms of being published on paper, but also a nice aside to this blog. I hope to give focus to produce which can be found in and around the Leith area which will be an easy enough feat as there are a plethora of food establishments and speciality shops opening left, right and centre.

My first piece will appear in the May issue, and so it was timed conveniently to coincide with the wild garlic season. You'll recall my fondness for wild garlic last year when a dinner of dolmades and pesto had me waxing lyrical about this amazing herb to anyone who'd listen. This year, inflicted with a common cold and a yearning for something non-medicinal to help shift it, I found myself hot-footing it to Valvona & Crolla once again in search of these leaves. Soup seemed like the best thing for the soul but frankly there was no way I was buying wild garlic without making another pesto, it was just too good. A dig around online gave me an idea for parsley and wild garlic soup - both ingredients abundant with nutrients and more to the point, flavour. Whilst we're approaching the end of the all-to-short wild garlic season, if you do come across some I'd urge you to give this a try. It may sound somewhat pungent, but the cooking softens the flavours and an aromatic bowl of delicate green soup is the result, and the pesto stirred into it gives it a fragrant kick. Trust me, if you like garlic, you’ll love this.

PARSLEY AND WILD GARLIC SOUP SERVED WITH WILD GARLIC PESTO inpspired by a recipe by Mark Hix
Serves 4

For the soup:
knob of butter
2 medium sized onions, chopped
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped or crushed
1 medium potato, peeled and chopped
1 litre vegetable stock (I like Marigold Swiss vegetable bouillon)
50g - 60g parsley, roughly chopped
50g - 60g wild garlic, roughly chopped

For the pesto:
50g – 60g wild garlic leaves, washed, dried, stems cut off
pine nuts
parmesan
olive oil

In a pot, melt the butter over a medium heat and gently sweat the onions and garlic with the lid on, stirring occasionally, for about ten minutes or until softened. Do not allow to colour.

Add the potato and stock, bring to the boil and simmer for around 40 minutes.

Meanwhile, using a pestle and mortar (or food processor if you’re feeling lazy), pound the wild garlic leaves for the pesto until your olfactory senses are given a right old treat. Add pine nuts, Parmesan and olive oil, tasting as you go along until you are happy with the consistency and flavour.

Add the parsley and wild garlic to the soup pot, cook for a further minute or two until wilted.

Remove from heat and blend.

Season to taste and serve with the pesto drizzled over the top.

CELEBRATION CAKES

2009-04-22T08:58:00.016+01:00

Is it wrong to celebrate your blog's one year birthday when you've been MIA for the last four (and some) months? Perhaps this small private acknowledgement is enough of a nod to it's actual birthday, and then in four months time it can have an official birthday, when the weather will be nicer and we can be giddy and self congratulatory. Look, if it's good enough for Nana Betty it's good enough for this blog.

In keeping with the celebratory theme, I have been doing a spot of baking. Two of my dearest friends are to be married in July and we are all beside ourselves with excitement. It is to be a small affair but nonetheless very special, with close friends, family and the sunshine in attendance. At least we hope so. Edinburgh can be a touch unpredictable when it comes to matters of climate but if the last week or two is anything to go by we might just be lucky.

Ever since Gemma created such a fabulous cake for Sylvie's wedding I've had a hankering to have a go myself, and so it is that I find myself in charge of the patisserie for this affair. To her credit, Gemma went down the traditional route and put together a very impressive three tier wonder of fruit sponges complete with marzipan and royal icing, while I will be going down the less challenging route of lots of oversized cupcakes. But there is some challenge in creating in the region of 150 cupcakes, all of which must look just right, then icing them on the morning of the big day, transporting them to the venue and positioning them just-so on their towering stand.

I want these wee cakes to be delicate and summery, and so when I saw Ina Garten (the Barefoot Contessa - an absolute marvel and what's more, living my fantasy life) make this lemon yoghurt cake the cupcakes suddenly became a bit of a no-brainer. Topped with rose scented icing, these are going to be perfect (she says, modestly).

So, I had to make some at the weekend - just to make sure they'd work as cupcakes you understand - and work they did. They're delicious. Using yoghurt and oil instead of butter ensures that the cakes have a light spongey texture, and the lemon rind gives them an extraordinary citrus flavour. Of course the original recipe is for a whole cake, which will be just as lovely.

As for the rose scented icing, I absentmindedly picked up rose essence instead of extract and as a result it didn't taste remotely like rose. This, along with a distinct lack of piping bag, meant that it was pretty much doomed from the outset. The search is now on for a good concentrated extract - any recommendations are most welcome, although I've been told Star Kay White are a good place to start. As soon as this is procured it will of course necessitate another trial batch of cupcakes... Well you have to sure don't you?

EEEEK

2009-04-06T18:00:00.004+01:00

The main problem with having been away from my blog for soooooo long is knowing how to come back.

A lot has happened since I was last here, so perhaps I'll fill you in on some of that. Thanks to the fragile state of the world's economy, I've been made redundant and find myself languishing the land of the unemployment. Perhaps languishing isn't quite the right word but you get the picture. On the plus side, this has afforded me (another poor choice of words, given my subsequent bank balance) the time and opportunity to do quite a lot of writing - whilst clearly not here - but for other publications, namely The List Eating and Drinking Guide 2009 and another List-affiliated publication called The Larder, a guide to Scottish produce. I've also done a fair amount of writing for i-on, and have managed to secure a quarterly column for them called Everyone's Eating... which examines the food trends that are currently taking Edinburgh by storm (kinda). There's one or two other things in the pipeline too which I'll talk more about once they're confirmed but on the whole it's been a pretty productive time in terms of being published, which is great.

As far as cooking goes, I've got to be honest and say I haven't been doing much outside of the norm and I should even confess to having probably settled for more than my fair share of pizza instead of making something myself, such has been the state of affairs over the last couple few months. However things are settling down a bit now and I've been getting back to grips with the kitchen.

More to follow...

IS THERE ANYBODY THERE?

2009-04-03T10:38:00.002+01:00

...I'm back...

BREDELE

2008-12-16T11:09:00.011Z

When I checked my inbox yesterday I had an email from my Mum. She lives in Paris but is originally from Alsace where the food of the region is very Germanic in style and is marked by the use of pork in various forms. Traditional dishes include baeckeoffe, a kind of stew of pork, beef, lamb, potatoes and onion cooked in Alsation white wine (much much much nicer than it sounds); tarte flambée or flammekueche, similar to a pizza base but covered with creme fraiche, onions and bacon (delicious!) and choucroute, sauerkraut prepared with various (surprise) pork sausages and other salted meats and charcuterie, and often potatoes.

The festivities of the year's end involve the production of a variety of biscuits and small cakes called bredele. There are many varieties of bredele, including anisbredela (aniseed), butterbredle (butter), schwowebredle (orange and cinnamon), spritzbredle (almond), small pain d'épices (gingerbread) and spice cakes which are traditionally given to children starting on St Nicholas' Day.

As she does every year, my Mum has made a batch of these bredele, pictured above. My favorite are the owls, hands down. Perhaps it's about time I picked up the mantle and started making these too. It might not hurt to have something homebaked with the M&S feast...

FEAST

2008-12-16T10:03:00.008Z

So I was staring blankly at my blog this morning, the irony not escaping me. For one, in my last post I declared that I would next write about something that is not chicken, only to roast a chicken on Sunday evening which resulted in a chicken stock and subsequent chicken soup being made yesterday. Ah.

Also, December is the month in the year when we all go into food overdrive - shopping for it, cooking it, baking it, roasting it, eating it eating it eating it eating it. But while I scour other people's blogs to find them soaking fruit and feeding cakes with brandy and making Christmas preserves and cooking and freezing, I'm, well I'm not. I'm not having any mammoth cook outs, I'm not desperately trying to locate all spice berries, I'm not nervously checking sell by dates and wondering how soon I can start shopping for sprouts.

Last year everyone came to me for Christmas and I made, from scratch:

seared scallops on pea puree with lemon oil and caviar
roasted turkey with chestnut stuffing
a glazed ham
potatoes roasted in goose fat
artichoke gratin
brussel sprouts with chestnuts and pancetta
roasted beetroot
carrots
cranberry sauce
bread sauce
gravy made with the turkey giblets

pears poached in mulled wine
calvados-soaked raisin ice cream

We also had flamed plum pudding with brandy butter, the biggest wedge of gorgonzola you've ever seen complete with pate de quince, figs and frozen grapes, and the obligitory twiglets, pretzels and after eights.

In short, the shopping, prepartion and cooking required something akin to military precision and indeed a great deal of the prepartion was done on Christmas eve (that is to say I cooked solidly for twelve hours). The turkey was soaked in a bucket of brine overnight a la Nigella and I can absolutely say that it works - it was the most delicious, juicy, succulent turkey.

However this is not a complaint - on the contrary - I absolutely loved every minute of it. It was an opportunity to cook mountains of extravagant, delicious, festive food and to spend hours on end doing it. I didn't dread it, I looked forward to it, I relished it.

The fact that everyone scuttled off home abruptly early at 11 o'clock clutching their bellies and groaning is by the by.

So by complete contrast, this year we're doing Christmas that good old fashioned, very british, very traditional way. We're getting it all from Marks.

CHICKEN SOUP FOR THE SOUL

2008-11-26T12:48:00.009Z

I have decided that my blog seems to be all chicken chicken cake cake chicken cake chicken chicken cake. I love chicken, and I do love cake, but frankly I feel I need to give some more attention to the other food. I do eat other food. So I hereby announce that I shall be cooking, eating and writing about non-chicken and non-cake foods. However, I just need to get this out of my system first...

I made a chicken soup the other day which would be simply rude to ignore. I was flicking through my new cookbooks, or more specifically Leon, when I landed on 'Good Soup for a Bad Day'. If the title caught my eye initially, the subtitle had me pulling my soup pot out of the cupboard - 'Chicken, Pearl Barley, Mushroom and Tarragon' - or yes, yes, yes and yes if you're me. The plan was to make a couple of huge batches of soup to freeze in portions, the idea being that they would keep me going for a good couple of weeks. Needless to say this soup only lasted a couple of days before we had eaten it all.

(Incidentally, I also made another huge pot of black bean soup, but this time substituted a great big couple of dollops of harrisa for the chorizo - on Rowan's suggestion I must add - along with a few crushed cloves of garlic. I also bulked up the onion a little and doubled the amount of chilli to make up for the missing chorizo. Anyway, it was delicious, a good vegetarian dish and lower in fat than the original, so thank you Rowan for the idea).

Anyway, chicken soup. Yes, this is definitely a good soup for a bad day. It's aromatic and comforting and the pearl barley makes it quite substantial so it's perfect with a wee bit of nice bread for dinner on those evenings when you don't want anything too heavy. Obviously the best free range organic chicken you can find will give the best flavour. Actually, while we're on the topic of free range organic chicken, I'm going to pause to have a wee rant at this point if you don't mind.

I cannot help but notice when I'm at the supermarket that there are still a depressingly massive number of people buying the rank foul battery farmed uber cheap chicken. WHAT IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE? The conditions these birds are kept in are deplorable. And to add insult to their pitiful lives and cruel deaths, these chickens taste like crap. Why don't people take an interest in where their food comes from? And some responsibility while they're at it. I cannot bear to listen to the ludicrous argument that free range organic chicken is too expensive to eat every week. Here's an idea: don't bloody buy it every week then. Eat something else instead, eat free range organic chicken less frequently but pay a premium for it when you do. And when you've paid your 15 quid for your free range organic chicken, get every little shred of meat off the carcass and you'll have enough for at least two meals. Then use the carcass to make stock. If you can't be bothered, chuck the carcass in a bag and freeze it until you can. Better still, freeze a few carcasses and make a more intense stock using all of them. Use the stock (and leftover chicken) to make soup or (and) risotto. This is not rocket science.

Ok, where were we? Yes, soup. I've typed up the recipe in full as it appears in the book because it's so nicely written. I used thighs and legs (and actually more than just 2 as is stated in the reciped), and I choped the onion rather than sliced it for the soup and used chestnut mushrooms instead of closed cup, but you're all big and bright enough to adapt it for your own ends.

GOOD SOUP FOR A BAD DAY (CHICKEN, PEARL BARLEY, MUSHROOM & TARRAGON) from Leon by Allegra McEvedy

This soup may not be the quickest of makes, but as long as you follow the method you're guaranteed to feel better at the end of the day.

RESTORATIVE MEASURES FOR 4*

2 free range chicken legs
2 large carrots - 1 left whole, 1 chopped into 1cm dice
2 sticks of celery
2 medium onions, sliced
6 cloves of garlic, peeled
4 bay leaves
a handful of parsley, with stalks
300g large closed-cup mushrooms, sliced
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
160g pearl barley
1 heaped teaspoon butter
1 tablespoon tarragon leaves, chopped
salt and pepper, plus a few whole peppercorns

Put the chicken legs into your favourite winter stock-making pot, with the whole carrot, celery, half the sliced onion, half the garlic, two of the bay leaves, the parsley and the peppercorns. Prise the stalks from the mushrooms and throw them in too.

Cover with 1.5 litres of water and bring to a simmer, then skim and turn the heat down until the stock is just steaming. Leave to cook like this until the chicken meat is coming away from the bone - about an hour.

Go and sit down for half an hour with a nice glass of wine and the papers, and put your feet up.

In a different saucepan when you're ready, fry the remaining onions in the oil with the rest of the garlic, chopped, and a bit of salt and pepper for a very gentle half hour or so until softened (meanwhile, do a bit more damage to your bottle while stirring your gently goldening onions, smelling the calming aromatherapy of simmering chicken stock and gazing into the middle distance).

Add the pearl barley, diced carrot and bay leaves to the onions, then pour in the stock through a strainer and bring to a simmer. Throw the veg away (or puree for another day's soup base) and put the chicken aside to cool down.

After an hour (i.e. your luxurious bath), get the butter to the edge of brown in a frying pan and fry the mushroom through golden until just coming up to crispy, chuck the tarragon in, give it a quick toss and then swirl it all into the soup. Anywhere around about now your barley should be tender.

Amuse yourself by picking the meat off the chicken bones, chopping it into little pieces and adding to the soup.

When you are comfortable with your barley, have a long, hard moment with the salt and pepper and if it seems a bit thick for a soup let it down with a bit of hot water.

Eat with crusty bread and a sense of well-being, then sleep the sleep you deserve.

*Plus leftovers for tomorrow, wihch will be a better day.

BOB IS FORTY

2008-11-18T16:27:00.014Z

Yes, that is a half eaten cheese and onion hedgehog so beloved of 1970's housewives you see in the background. One of my oldest and dearest friends is Robert. He is a marvel and pain in the arse all rolled into one. This man has absolutely no regard for his own health, he smokes, drinks alcohol, consumes coffee and eats dairy like there's no tomorrow and yet he looks fabulous and is one of the happiest buggers I know. If ever there was someone who epitomised the phrase 'Joie de Vivre' it's him. He'll be laughing on the other side of his face when he's strapped up to an iron lung with a serious case of gout but not to worry. He certainly doesn't.

Simple pleasures for Robert: the text we get every Friday evening telling us it's 'beer o'clock', his insistance on going to the same bloody pub week in week out because it's like a goldfish bowl which allows him to point and laugh at unknowing passers by, a bit of a sing song to 'Celion Delion' (sic) after a few too many drinks at the aforementioned pub. Ok, I'm not doing a great job of selling him to you but all you need to know is that this man is as good as family to me and I love him like a brother. An annoying brother.

So anyway, it was his 38th birthday a couple of weeks ago. My friends and I never tire of reminding him that he's a whole six years or so older than the rest of us and we wait with glee for the huge occassion that will be his fortieth. We therefore use any excuse to remind him of said fact and every year his birthday carries pretty much the same theme: Bob Is Forty! Haha!

As self-appointed baker of birthday cakes I crafted for him a coffee and walnut cake. (As an aside - I always think of coffee and walnut as being quite a 'manly' cake. I'm not sure why. Is it just me or does anyone else think this?). As always when planning a cake, my first port of call is Nigel Slater. I have used his coffee and walnut cake recipe before and it's faultless. Follow it to the letter and you'll get a cake which is crumbling and moist and moreish and just perfect. And it seemed fitting for Robert, what with it being FULL of butter and coffee.

COFFEE AND WALNUT CAKE from The Kitchen Diaries by Nigel Slater (one of my all-time favourite cookbooks).
Serves 8-10

175g butter (room temperature)
175g golden caster sugar
3 large eggs
175g self-raising flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
2 teaspoons instant coffee granules
65g walnut pieces

For the butter cream:
200g butter (room temperature)
400g icing sugar
2 teaspoins instant coffee granules
60g walnut pieces

You will need two 20cm loose-bottomed sponge tins. Set the oven at 180 degrees. Line the base of the sponge tins with baking parchment.

Beat the butter and caster sugar 'til light, pale and fluffy. You cuold do this by hand but it is far easier and, frankly, better with an electric mixer. Crack the eggs into a bowl, break them up with a fork, then add them a little at a time to the butter and sugar, beating well after each addition.

Mix the flour and baking powder together and gently mix into the butter and sugar, either with the mixer on a slow speed or by hand, with a large metal spoon. Dissolve the ocffee granules in a table spoon of boiling water, then stir into the mixture. Chop the walnuts and fold them in gently.

Divide the cake mixture between the two tins, smooth the top lightly and bake for twenty to twenty-five minutes. I have noticed mine are pretty much consistently done after twenty-three minutes. Remove from the oven and leave to cool.

To make the butter cream, beat the butter with an electric beater 'til soft and pale, then add the icing sugar and beat 'til smooth and creamy. Stir a tablespoon of boiling water into the coffee granules, then mix it into the butter cream. Fold in the walnut pieces.

As soon as the cake is cool, turn one half of it upside down on plate or board, spread it with a good third of the butter cream, then place the second cake half on top. Spread the remaining butter cream on top and round the sides.

THE BOOK PEOPLE

2008-11-09T19:08:00.015Z

I love cookbooks. I can't help myself. I love glossy pictures, I love matt pictures, I love pages and pages of words all dedicated to food. I love food styling. I love hard backs, I love paper backs, I love big heavy tomes. I love page-marker ribbons. I love to read them from cover to cover like a novel and I love to salivate over the photography. This is a habit I seem to have inherited from my mother who has the equivalent of a small library of literature dedicated to epicurian delights and I am managing to build up a fair collection of my own (though alas, mine is not yet as impressive as Gemma's whose shelves of cookbooks I lust after and envy in equal measure...).

The problem with cookbooks is that a) there are literally hundreds I want, b) there isn't a week goes by when there isn't a new one to add to the list I already want, and c) at an average price of around £25 each, if I were to buy them all I'd very quickly be declared bankrupt (and some). And so it is I have to be satisfied with buying them slowly and one by one, resigned to the fact that unless I suddenly come into a fortune of millions the probability is that I'll never own all the cookbooks I'd like to.

However, Sylvie recently referred me to a website called The Book People which offers 50%-75% discount - they don't carry thousands of titles but they do have a good selection (particularly children's books incidentally) and so it was that I found myself perusing their choice of cookbooks. The discounts are unbelievable - to give you an example, the RRP on the new Clarissa Dickson Wright book 'Clarissa's Comfort Food' is £19.99 but you can buy it at The Book People for £6.99. If that's not enough to convince you to have a look then you're a lost cause.

Anyway, a few days after my ponder through their titles I took delivery of a great big red box containing four fabulous new cookbooks and a box set of a further eight classics - The Best of Mrs Beeton. Updated for a modern audience but still charming, these books come presented in a wee kitchen cupboard and include titles such as Jams, Pickles and Preserves and Household Tips - so cute.

Gordon Ramsay's Cooking for Friends is beautifully styled and worth it for the black forest cake recipe on page 246 alone, My Favourite Ingredients by Skye Gyngell has gorgeous photography and more importantly THREE ribbons and Cook Yourself Thin sounds a bit wrong really but it takes some traditionally calhorrific dishes and suggests ways of making them less so, which is a useful resource.

However, I am particularly excited about Leon by Allegra McEvedy, inspired by the London-based restaurants of the same name. This book is bursting with energy, information and recipes for the most amazing and mouth watering food. The design is fabulous and the book features cute surprise bonuses like a pull out cheese map of Europe. It's great fun and has two ribbons - what more reason do you need to buy?

Like I said, I can't help myself. My only problem now is where to start...

ARDARDAN

2008-11-06T17:21:00.024Z

My friend Sara is one of those people who you meet and like instantly. She's lovely. She's so nice in fact that Carrie and I wait with baited breath for her to say something bad about someone, a moan, a groan, a sweary word - but they somehow never come. She's just an all round good egg.

She and her family run an estate in Cardross called Ardardan, which boasts a farm shop, a tea room and a garden centre as well as lovely grounds and animals such as highland cows, chickens and a bizarre breed of New Zealand pig which has fur - I know, it's weird but true. They have two which are named 'Ki' and 'Wi'. Marvellous.

Recently refurbished, the farm shop is thrise the shop it used to be. They have installed a huge cheese counter which bulges with Scottish and French cheeses, there's an olive bar where you can help yourself, organic fruit and vegetables and a vast array of biscuits, jams, pickles and teas as well as locally sourced fresh meat. The tearoom has fresh baking to die for and frankly the scone I had the last time I was there was the size of my head.

Everytime I visit I wonder why I don't go more often. Admittedly, when I lived in Glasgow it was slightly easier to get to - now it means a good hour in the car from Edinburgh but it's so worth it. Perhaps one of the nicest things about Ardardan is that it's an entirely family-run enterprise. Sara's Mum May, runs the shop, her Dad Grant and her fiance Jerry run the garden centre, Sara runs the tearoom and her sister Sue has recently joined the ranks as Marketeer. I don't think many of us could imagine working so closely with our families and yet the Montgomerys do it day in day out, and to brilliant effect. I continue to admire their efforts as their business grows and feel proud to tell people they're my friends.

A BITTER TASTE IN THE MOUTH

2008-11-06T14:51:00.007Z

As a child, visits to the dentist culminated in the nice lady at reception giving me a marvellous sticker as a reward for my immense bravery. I distinctly remember displaying a bright pink Penelope Pitstop number with pride one afternoon at school after a particularly courageous visit. Alas, as an adult I am no longer given anything nearly as exciting by the dentist but I am still stuck (tentatively) in the cycle of nervous-brave-reward, particularly as with the innocence of youth no longer on my side I have also developed an intense fear of my six monthly visits.

All that said, this week's visit ended with the dentist congratulating me on my nashers and proclaiming that there was no need for further treatment. All those nerves for nothing then. Time for a reward.

My dentist is just a hop skip and a jump away from Valvona and Crolla and so it was that I found myself there perusing the shelves for something suitable, and as they don't sell Penelope Pitstop stickers it was going to have to be something to eat. Now I suppose most people would make a beeline for the chocolate, maybe the cakes or even the cheese counter. Not me. I found myself in front of the fruit and vegetables. Ok, if I'm honest I was making a beeline for the chocolate when something else caught my eye. Raddichio Rosso di Treviso. I have a fondness for bitter salad leaves and so I promptly decided that was to be my treat. How boring is that?

Boring perhaps to a nine year old Carine looking for a treat but for my thirty one year old self, dressed with a Dijon mustard vinaigrette laced with the merest hint of garlic this was tastier than any brightly coloured sticker. Yum.

PS: For those of you who live in Edinburgh, December's i-on magazine features two pieces of my writing. If you don't live in Edinburgh you can see it online here. I am really excited about having had the opportunity to do this writing, i-on is a fantastic publication and I look forward to doing more for them in the future. Watch this space...

J'AI FROID

2008-11-02T21:44:00.015Z

Edinburgh is extraordinarily beautiful in Autumn. And bloody freezing. Wrapped in a scarf and gloves, I could happily walk for miles on a clear dry day but once at home I like to be snug and warm. Home is a big old flat complete with the obligitory high ceilings, Edinburgh press, laundry pulley and old sash windows with original glass. The windows may look the part but are unfortunately less effective at retaining heat. I have therefore taken to padding around in several layers of clothing, clutching a hot water bottle and all the while bemoaning the recent drop in temperature. Am I too young for an electric blanket?

One of the best things about the cold weather season is the food. Warming food, comfort food, hairs-on-your-chest food. This is the season for brown food. I do not mean a neurotic eating system for crazy people who will only eat food of a single colour, but a food genre, if you will. Brown food is the term I use to define certain rich, hearty dishes. Dishes which usually contain meat, more-often-than-not red wine and are generally some sort of stew affair. Beef bourguignon (the King of brown foods), coq au vin, a good intense bolognaise (not too tomato-ey), cottage pie, roasted leg of lamb served with the pan juices, a warming Chilli. These are the dishes I invariably crave when it's icy outside.

I came across a Thomasina Miers recipe in the November issue of the Sainsbury's Magazine with brown food written all over it - a thick black bean soup with chorizo and chipotle chilli. While I didn't try using it as a sealant on the windows its flavour did provide a perfect antidote to the cold outside: the smokey heat of the chipotle enhances the chorizo which along with velvety smooth black beans produces a deeply savoury and comforting soup.

OAXACAN BLACK BEAN SOUP adapted from Thomasina Miers' recipe in Sainsbury's Magazine November 2008
Serves 8

350g dried black beans
2 tablespoons olive oil
3 shallots, peeled and finely chopped
150g chorizo, chopped into small cubes
1/2 small fennel bulb, finely chopped
2 tablespoons chopped fresh taragon
2 bay leaves
1 large dried chipotle chilli, rehydrated and finely chopped
pinch smoked paprika
1 tablespoon Nam Pla
juice of 1 lime

Soak the beans in cold water for at least four hours or overnight. Drain, and rinse in cold water.

Heat the oil in a large casserole and add the shallots and chorizo. Cook over a medium-high heat for 5-10 minutes until the onion is translucent and the chorizo has released some of it's oil. This will add flavour to the soup and give a silky texture to the beans.

Add the beans, fennel, herbs, chipotle chilli and paprika and cover with at least 5cm of cold water. The beans will be much more tender if they have planty of water. Bring to the boil then lower the heat and simmer for about 2 hours until the beans are tender.

Blend until smooth and season with the fish sauce and lime juice to taste. Thin with water if necesary.

Serve topped with fried crisp chorizo and dried chilli flakes.

FALL FOR PUMPKINS

2008-11-01T12:39:00.004Z

It's that time of year when the air is crisp, foliage turns gently to autumnal shades of rich and earthy burnt sienna, before falling to be crunched beneath our feet. Suddenly we can see our breath in the cold and markets build seasonal displays of sweet golden honey, luscious red apples and cheery orange pumpkins.

Much like brussel sprouts, pumpkins seem only to appear in kitchens once a year - and more often than not for the sole purpose of creating ghoulish lanterns for Halloween mischievousness. But what to do with the discarded flesh? Soup or the proverbial pie spring to mind but this majestic fruit can be more versatile than that.

When selecting a pumpkin look for a rich, orange colour and firm flesh. A whole pumpkin will keep for a couple of months in a cool dry place, but because of its big size it is often sold in more manageable wedges. In this case store in the fridge and use within a couple of days.

Don't discard the seeds - they make a great snack when roasted and salted and also add a crunchy texture to salads, granola and baking. When cooked, pumpkin flesh has a soft creamy texture and sweet flavour which works well with warming spices like ginger and cinnamon - perfect for those cold autumn and winter evenings. It can be pureed into soups, breads and sweet pies flavoured with spices which are to American Thanksgiving what plum pudding is to British Christmas.

For something a bit different try adding chunks to meaty stews and curries. Add it to risotto or puree and use as a ravioli filling, or as an alternative to mashed potatoes crushed with butter, garlic and rosemary.

Perhaps the best way to highlight pumpkin's natural character is to roast it. Cut into large chunks, put into a baking tray, toss with olive oil and place in a 200 degree oven for about 45 minutes. Serve on it's own or with cous cous and a drizzle of harrisa. Or for a quirky dessert, serve roasted pumpkin with citris fruits and coconut or mayple syrup and toasted nuts.

ROASTED PUMPKIN SEEDS

seeds from your pumpkin
a good slug of olive oil
Maldon sea salt
pepper
spices of your choice - I used dried chilli flakes, cumin, cayenne and garlic pepper

Remove the pith and gunk from the seeds, wash and dry them. At this point you may feel you are losing the will to live but persevere - the rest is dead easy.

Put the seeds into a bowl, add the olive oil, salt, pepper and spices and mix together well so that all the seeds are evenly coated.

Spread the seeds out on a foil lined baking tray in a single layer.

Place in a preheated oven at 180 degrees and bake for around 20 minutes until plump and golden brown.

Allow to cool and serve.

THE DUST SETTLES

2008-10-25T12:43:00.021+01:00

Since my last post on Wednesday 27 August a grand total of 57 days have passed. I should point out that:

7 were spent moving house;
7 were spent launching the new season collection at work (a fashion company);
7 were spent working away in various locations around Scotland;
2 were spent in London;
3 were spent in the Scottish Highlands;
4 were spent being severely hungover;
5 were spent writing features for local magazines;
2 were spent in Glasgow;
1 was spent attending a funeral;
4 were spent being unwell and bedridden...

...respectively.

This leaves 15 days. Realistically I think three posts a week is pretty good going so technically that leaves 9 days. I therefore hereby acknowledge the fact that I have not posted in over a week (it does make sense...). Shame on me. Adapting to a new kitchen with the bulk of my culinary utensils still stuck in transit has been the main source of difficulty but I am taking steps to rectify this matter. My intention was never to be absent for so long, please consider my blogging mojo to be no longer lost.

The three days spent in the highlands was probably the highlight of my absent period. Four friends and I spent a couple of nights in a gorgeous cottage in Taynuilt near Oban. Long walks, cosy wood-burning fires and longer dinners with copius amounts of wine were the order of the day(s) and we had a brilliant time. So much so that we've already got our next mini break in the diary and booked for the end of November.

On the way back we drove through Callander where we stopped for fish and chips at Mhor Fish. This brilliant place won Best Newcomer in this year's prestigious Observer Food Monthly awards:

The accidental chippie. How a very ordinary greasy spoon in a sleepy Perthshire town became the country's finest fish-and-chip shop, the peerless Mhor Fish - complete with sparkling water in the batter and beef dripping in the deep-fat fryer. (OFM March 2008).

This is without a doubt the best 'accidental chippie' I have ever encountered and by far the most stylish. The floor is tiled in classic black and white and the walls washed with muted grey paint and adorned with antlers. A huge fish counter is piled high with seafood freshly caught off the north coast of Scotland and you can choose your preffered method of cooking - grilled, seared, baked or fried.

Fish teas complete with freshly baked buttered bread and the proverbial mug of piping hot liquid were ordered, my haddock steamed beautifully and moist inside it's batter shell and the chips deep fried in beef dripping. It is without exaggeration that I say these chips were simply perfect: golden, crispy and soft and fluffy inside.We ate greedily and in silence punctuated only by vows to return. I heart Mhor Fish.

EURGH

2008-08-27T16:06:00.005+01:00

I wrote this review of a restaurant for an Edinburgh magazine the other day but I fear it will never see the light of day. I feel that it is my duty to share it in order to spare you the potential horror of eating at this establishment.

Och now I feel mean, it wasn't really that bad.... actually yes, yes it was.

Whether you loved or loathed Tinelli's on Easter Road, the fact remains it survived for almost 30 years until Giancarlo Tinelli retired earlier this year, no mean feat for an Edinburgh restaurant. My personal experience of this so-called institution was a dinner where the food was forgettable, but the smell of the restaurant has unfortunately lodged in my memory like the proverbial bad odour, what with that being exactly what it was.

So it was not without some trepidation that I ventured to its reincarnation 'Al Dente' to see if anything has changed. The exterior has been given a lick of paint and is now a proud regal purple and gold, the window displaying a menu with some regal prices to match. Pity the makeover didn't extend to the interior where there remains the general ambience - and smell - of an elderly man's living room. Notice I didn't say gentleman. Ok I concede, they've white washed the walls and tiled the floor.

After a friendly greeting, the owner seated us, gave us our menus and explained there were no scallops available as those at the fish market that morning weren't at all fresh enough. Good to know.

We chose Antipasti Italiano and Porcini Trifolati which promised to be porcini mushrooms tossed with garlic, parsley and white wine. In reality, it was a wobbling mass of gelatinous matter with no discernable taste of mushroom let alone garlic, white wine or parsley. A rhinotillexomaniac's dream. The Antipasti Italiano fared far better and was an impressive plateful of Neapolitan salami, Parma ham, Coppa and Bresaola complete with an enormous ball of soft milky mozzarella. This generous serving would be more suited as a sharing plate for 2-4 people but my dining partner did a valiant job of polishing it off all the same.

It is worth pointing out that I am deeply suspicious of restaurants which serve 'fresh' bread in a wicker basket alongside individual packets of mushy cheap butter. That is to say that I have yet to eat somewhere which does this and still serves good food. Say no more.

The main courses didn’t do much to disprove my theory. The owner assured me that my choice of Pescatrice allo Speck - Monkfish Fillet Wrapped in Italian Smoked Ham - was the piece de resistance at his wedding. The Speck ham surrounding the monkfish managed both to help and hinder this dish - while the fish itself was perfectly cooked and moist, it was far too salty. The accompanying vegetables were as bland as they were unimaginative - overcooked courgette and undercooked baby corn - and worst of all tasted of low fat spread. I'd have filed for divorce before the first dance.

A Grigliata Mista de Pesce - mixed grilled fish platter - was an assortment of the usual charred fishy suspects and shellfish. Most alarmingly, languishing amongst this was a great big scallop... Hmmmmm.

Insolata Mista was shredded baby gem, chopped industrial onion and potato flavoured tomatoes, all masquerading as 'Mixed Salad Leaves garnished with a Homemade Vinaigrette'. This chef appears to have confused homemade vinaigrette with shed loads of table salt.

A lesser person might have thrown in the towel but I am a 'to the death' sort. We decided to share a Tiramisu, partly because we were both quite full, and partly to halve the potential burden. Who knew it would actually be quite good? Perhaps because it's a fairly basic piece of Italian repertoire, or perhaps because there is no call for salt, but this Tiramisu was made well, with good ingredients and tasted exactly as it should – the Savoiardi biscuits soaked to just the right yielding consistency and enough coffee and amaretto to give it a tasty kick without overpowering. I could even almost excuse the random garnish of sliced peach which was promptly discarded after I discovered it tasted as though it had been rubbed with garlic. Almost.

Apparently if one exclaims 'Basta! at the end of a meal in Italy it means 'Enough!'. Never was a truer word said. At a grand total of £65.31 without drinks I can't say I'll be returning. If only they did Tiramisu to go.

SHORT STACK

2008-08-19T14:11:00.012+01:00

This video was recently brought to my attention and since watching it I have been consumed with the urge to eat American pancakes.

Then last night I dreamt about eating American pancakes. That was the final straw. No prizes for guessing what I had for breakfast. For the record - I am honestly a normal young woman who likes other stuff - shoes, clothes, music, all the usual things. I dream about them sometimes too. Honest.

AMERICAN BREAKFAST BLUEBERRY PANCAKES adapted from Nigella Lawson's pancake recipe in How to Eat
Makes enough for four people (I HALVED IT. I know, half of four is two. I was hungry...)

250g plain flour
4 tsp baking powder
1 tsp sugar
pinch of Maldon sea salt
2 eggs
300ml milk
30g butter, melted
2 good handfuls of fresh blueberries

Sieve the flour, baking powder, sugar and salt into a bowl. Make a crater in the middle of the mound of flour and break the eggs into it.

Using a wooden spoon, beat well, gradually incorporating all the flour from the sides and add the milk bit by bit, stirring to make a smooth batter.

Change to a whisk to get rid of any little lumps and whisk in the melted butter. Stir in the blueberries.

Heat a little oil in a non-stick frying pan or griddle, then pour it off.

Spoon a little batter into the pan - remember these are American pancakes and not thin crepes and you only need a little batter as these should be small - say about 8cm rounds - and thick.

Keep the pan over a moderate heat to ensure they are cooked through - flip to cook on the reverse.

Serve hot in a stack with a little nob of butter and a good pouring of maple syrup. Crispy shards of smoked bacon are delicious with this too.

SALT TOOTH

2008-08-17T19:19:00.009+01:00

As yesterday was spent mostly baking and then consuming an inordinately sweet cake, it's no surprise that today I've been craving salty food. Add last night's Edinburgh Festival fun and subsequent lack of sleep to the equation and we find ourselves in a roast chicken situation.

One roast chicken, a watercress salad dressed simply with a Dijon mustard vinaigrette and one more thing: a great big dollop of freshly made aïoli. This is just a basic mayonnaise recipe with the addition of lots of fragrant garlic. If you follow the rule of only using the freshest of ingredients you are guaranteed a glossy and moreish sauce.

AIOLI
Makes enough for 2 - for more people double the quantities

1 large free range organic egg yolk - as fresh as possible
3 big fat juicy garlic cloves, crushed to a paste
150ml light olive oil, or a 100ml:50ml combination of a flavourless oil such as ground nut or sunflower oil and extra virgin olive oil
1 tsp (aprox) white wine vinegar or freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 large tsp of Dijon mustard (optional)
freshly ground pepper and Maldon sea salt to taste

Put the egg yolk and crushed garlic clove in a bowl. Whisk well until smooth - this is easiest done with an electric whisk but a hand whisk is fine if you've got strong wrists. My grandmother used to use a wooden spoon...

Gradually add the olive oil a few drops at a time, whisking all the time. After about half of the oil has been added you can start to add the rest of the oil in a slow, steady stream. Continue until the oil has benn added. You should have a smooth thick glossy mayonnaise which stands in peaks.

Add the white wine vinegar or lemon juice to taste and whisk to loosen and lighten the mayonnaise.

Add the Dijon mustard if using and season to taste.

A CARRIER FOR BUTTERCREAM

2008-08-17T15:07:00.007+01:00

Another Saturday, another birthday celebration, and this time Rowan's. With only three weeks until the next one I am thinking about sourcing a new group of friends with more conveniently spaced out dates of birth.

Of all my friends, I particularly enjoy cooking for Rowan. She's such a brilliant cook herself (this girl has a way with chicken which is unparalleled) that I feel especially flattered when she enjoys my wares - and there's nothing nicer than cooking for someone who truly loves food.

When it comes to cake, Rowan has a certain fondness for buttercream. And I mean a fondess which borders on 'hold the cake, just give me the buttercream and a spoon'. With this in mind, I set about concocting a birthday cake which would satisfy her particular er, fetish. The result was an old fashioned cake made with hazelnuts, strawberries and a lightly whipped vanilla buttercream - I think it did the trick.

HAZELNUT SPONGE WITH FRESH STRAWBERRIES AND VANILLA BUTTERCREAM ICING
Serves 8-10

175g butter, soft
175g unrefined golden caster sugar
3 large eggs
175g self raising flour
1 tsp baking powder
65g hazelnuts, roughly chopped
200g strawberries
1-2 tbsp strawberry jam

For the buttercream icing:
200g butter, soft
400g icing sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract

For decoration:
200g strawberries
60g toasted hazelnuts, half roughly chopped, half left whole

Preheat the oven to 180°C. Grease and line two 20cm loose bottomed cake tins.

In a large bowl, beat the butter and caster sugar using an electric whisk until pale and fluffy.

Break the eggs into a small bowl and break up with a fork. Add to the butter and sugar mixture a little at a time, whisking throughly after each addition.

Sieve the flour and baking powder together and carefully mix into the butter mixture using the whisk on it's lowest setting. Using a metal spoon, gently fold in the chopped hazelnuts.

Divide the cake mixture evenly between the two tins and lightly smooth out the top. Bake in the oven for 20-25 minutes until risen and lightly browned. Remove from the oven and allow to cool completely an a wire rack.

To make the buttercream, beat the butter until pale using an electric whisk, then add the icing sugar and vanilla extract and beat until light, creamy and smooth. Add a tablespoon of just boiled water and whisk further to soften and loosen up a little.

Chop 200g of the strawberries into small pieces, place in small bowl and stir in the jam.

Once the cake has cooled, turn one half of it upside down and place on a serving plate or cake stand to ice. A good tip is to place strips of greasproof paper just under the edges which can be pulled away at the end, taking with them any buttercream debris.

Spread with a third of the buttercream. Spread the strawberry mixture thickly on top. Place second cake half on top to sandwich.

Spread the remaining buttercream on top and around the sides.

To decorate, pile up whole and halved strawberries on top and scatter with the toasted hazelnuts. The strawberries look pretty if the stalks are left in.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ROWAN!

POWER TO THE PEOPLE!

2008-08-12T17:36:00.018+01:00

We bestowed the name Wolfie upon my friend Alex back when we were at Edinburgh University. This was mainly because of her cute mockney accent, her dreadlocks, a fine line in Che Guevara t-shirts and her general revolutionary stance. Those of you familiar with the cult BBC hit comedy series Citizen Smith will remember Wolfie the Tooting revolutionary and understand. Those of you not familiar with Wolfie Smith should look here. These days, and more years than I care to specify later, Alex's anarchic ways stretch more to popping down to Waitrose for a cupcake or checking out The Gap's fine merino wool in the January sales but she'll always be Wolfie to us, and we love her for it.

Saturday was this very special lady's birthday, and true to form we decided to celebrate by getting more innebriated than any of us have been since the days when Wolfie got her name. Indeed I had intended to write this post on Sunday but it is only now that I am recovered enough to do so.

At the risk of coming over all Martha Stewart, I decided as a birthday present to make Alex some decadent treats to satisfy the penchant she has for the finer things in life these days. Well that, and the fact that I felt it was high time someone got her something other than books. And so it was that I made limoncello, biscotti, florentines and chocolate truffles, and Wolfie can lay off Valvona and Crolla for a while.

LIMONCELLO
Makes around 800ml

750ml bottle good vodka (I used Stolichnaya) or a good 40-80% proof fruit alcohol
200g unrefined caster sugar
8-12 unwaxed lemons, depending on size

Zest and juice the lemons, removing all the pips.

Pour a little of the vodka into a pan, add the sugar and heat gently until dissolved (tip: don't do what I did and inhale deeply or you will become extremely light headed...).

Take the pan off the heat and allow to cool slightly before adding the lemon zest and juice. Stir, add the rest of the alcohol and allow to cool completely.

Pour into a sterile bottle. You will have slightly more limoncello than the original 750ml bottle of vodka.

Ideally , this should be left for at least a week and shaken everyday before drinking to really allow the flavours to blend. However, I didn't have at least a week so I strained it off and it still tasted delicious the following day. Store in a cool dark place and serve very chilled.

FRUIT AND NUT BISCOTTI adapted from this recipe by James Martin
Makes around 25

250g plain flour
250g unrefined caster sugar
1/2 tbsp baking powder
50g plump sultanas
50g dried cherries
50g shelled pistachio nuts
50g pitted dates, chopped
50g whole blanched almonds
50g skinned hazelnuts
finely grated zest of 1 lemon
3 eggs, lightly beaten

Preheat the oven to 180°C. Line two baking sheets with greaseproof paper.

Mix the flour, sugar and baking powder in a large bowl.

Add the fruit, nuts and lemon zest, mixing well.

Add the beaten eggs, a little at a time until the dough takes shape but is not too wet.

Divide the dough into two sausage shapes, 3-5cm thick. Lightly flatten the sausages, and place on the first baking sheet.

Bake for 15-20 minutes until golden brown. Remove from oven and allow to cool slightly until not to hot to touch.

Reduce the oven temperature to 140°C.

While the biscotti 'sausages' are still just warm, cut them into slices about an inch thick and lay on the second baking sheet. Return to oven to dry out for about 12 minutes. Turn them over and leave to dry for 10-12 minutes more.

Allow to cool completely and store in air tight containers for about a week. These are delicious served with a shot of limoncello to dip into.

FLORENTINES
Makes 9-12

55g unsalted butter
45g soft brown sugar
2 teaspoons clear honey
25g flaked almonds, roughly chopped
2 tablespoons chopped dried apricots
2 tablespoons chopped glace cherries
2 tablesspoons chopped mixed peel
40g plain flour, sifted
120g dark chocolate

Preheat the oven to 180°C.

Melt the butter, brown sugar and honey in a pan until the butter is melted, the sugar has dissolved and all the ingredients are combined.

Remove from the heat and add the almonds, apricots, glace cherries, mixed peel and the flour. Mix well. Resist the urge to eat this out of the pan because it smells so heavenly.

Grease and line a large baking tray with baking paper (do not use greaseproof as the florentines will stick to this). Place level tablespoons of the mixture well apart on the trays. Reshape and flatten the biscuits into aproximate 5cm rounds.

Bake for 10 minutes or until lightly browned. Allow to cool slightly on the tray, then transfer to a wire rack and allow to cool completely.

Break the chocolate up into small, even sized pieces and place in a heatproof bowl. Bring a pan of water to a simmer, then turn off the heat. Place the heatproof bowl over the pan, ensuring it does not touch the water. Stir the chocolate until melted.

Spread the chocolate on the underside of the florentines and when almost set, make a wavy pattern using a fork. Allow the chocolate to set completely before serving.

Store in an airtight container in a cool dark place if you can resist the urge to eat them all in one sitting.

CHOCOLATE TRUFFLES adapted from Nigel Slaters recipe in Real Food
Makes around 500g

450g of the finest plain chocolate you can lay your hands on
275ml double cream
good quality cocoa powder for dusting, such as Green & Blacks

Chop the chocolate finely and into even sized pieces. The individual pieces should be no bigger than the size of a pea.

Warm a heatproof bowl with hot water and dry throughly. Place the chocolate in the bowl.

Bring the cream to the boil in a small pan. Just as it reaches boiling point, remove from the heat and pour carefully over the chocolate, stirring gently with a wooden spoon.

The chocolate should melt into a thick, glossy, dark brown cream. If there are still lumps of chocolate in the mixture, place the bowl over a pan of hot almost simmering water until they melt. Take great caution not to over heat the chocolate mixture at this stage or it will split.

Allow the melted mixture to cool, and place in the fridge for about an hour or so thicken. You do not want it to become solid.

Using teaspoons, scoop out lumps of the chocolate mixture and drop them into the cocoa powder. Roll in the cocoa powder until well coated. Continue until all of the chocolate mixture is left and you have a mound of chocolate truffles. Place them in the fridge to set.

NB: If once you have brought the mixture off the heat it splits - don't panic. Add some clear runny honey, about a tablespoon at a time and stir the mixture until it is smooth and glossy again. It will feel as though it's not going to come back but it will - keep adding the honey and keep stirring. You can use this method if you want to add alcohol to the chocolates (as more often than not adding liquid to the mixture will cause it split) - add a the liquid, say a tablespoon of Brandy, to the mixture and when it splits, stir in the honey. It works, honest.

Store in an air tight container in the fridge and keep for up to three days.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY WOLFIE! And er, up the revolution and all that.

SOUL FOOD

2008-08-03T21:10:00.012+01:00

Yesterday I spent the day doing virtually nothing after an accidentally heavy night on Friday which culminated in my going to bed after sunrise. As a result, today I have had the kind of brain fog that descends upon me when I haven't left the house in over twenty four hours. My state of mind was such that the pinnacle of my day was a tearful phonecall to Carrie on the subject of something I really shouldn't care about but apparently I do.

Tempted just to opt for my easy-option-works-everytime comfort food: the proverbial free range organic chicken roasted with copius amounts of garlic and lemon, I pulled out Nigel Slater's Kitchen Diaries to search for some alternative inspiration. I find that reading his writing is comfort in itself, like wrapping yourself up in a big warm blanket. However, it obviously really was a bad day because nothing jumped out at me, except something must have lodged somewhere in my brain because I decided I wanted lamb instead. Today was not a day for complicated recipes so I decided just to seek out the lamb and let the store cupboard staples and fridge contents do the rest.

Unlike what they say about pastry, apparantly my state of mind didn't affect dinner because it was tasty enough to make me feel a bit better. Well, dinner and the Hendricks and tonic I had before it. Oh, and the bottle of Roija I had with it.

ROAST SHOULDER OF LAMB WITH CRUSHED CANNELLINI BEANS, BABY LEAF SPINACH AND ROASTED CHERRY TOMATOES ON THE VINE
Serves 2

For the lamb:
1.5kg-1.75kg shoulder of lamb
good handful fresh mint
a couple of sprigs of fresh rosemary
3 teaspoons cumin seeds, toasted and ground
4 cloves of garlic, crushed to a paste
3-4 anchovies, mashed to a paste
juice of 1-2 lemons
good slug olive oil
pinch ground black pepper
Maldon sea salt

For the crushed cannellini beans:
tin cannellini beans
1/2 clove garlic, crushed to a paste
1/2 teaspoon harissa paste
juice of half a lemon
good slug of olive oil
couple of tablespoons finely chopped fresh mint
ground black pepper
Maldon sea salt

For the tomatoes:
cherry tomatoes on the vine
slug of olive oil
ground balck pepper
Maldon sea salt

Take the shoulder of lamb and with a sharp knife make several deep cuts through into the flesh. Lay in a roasting tray.

Using a pestle and morter, pound the fresh mint and rosemary until green and sludgy, add the cumin powder, garlic and anchovies and mix well. Add the lemon juice and olive oil and mix until you have a nice thick paste. Season with salt and pepper but remember that the anchovies are already very salty.

Smear this paste all over the lamb shoulder, pushing it well into the holes made with your knife. Ideally, leave this to marinate for an hour or so (though I didn't have time to do this and it still permeated the meat very well). Place in a 180-200 degree oven and roast for 20 minutes per 500g plus an extra 25 minutes if you like your lamb fairly well done - less if you like it juicier and rarer - mine was 1kg and I took it out after just under an hour and it was perfect.

While the lamb is cooking prepare the cannellini beans:

Rinse and drain the beans and place in a bowl. Add the rest of the ingredients and mash until you reach the desired consistency - you can do this in a food processor but I prefer the texture to be a bit rougher. Add a few drops of water to loosen it up if necessary.

Ten minutes before the lamb is ready, place the cherry tomatoes (still on their vine) in an oven proof dish, drizzle with olive oil and season with salt and pepper, place in the oven and roast until soft.

When the lamb is cooked, allow to rest for a good ten minutes after you take it out of the oven before carving.

Serve the lamb on the spinach leaves, with the smashed cannellini beans and cherry tomatoes on the side.

WINE, DINE, DIVINE

2008-08-02T18:03:00.016+01:00

A few years ago I spent three weeks eating, drinking and merrying my way around Europe on a road trip taken with my very enthusiastic then boyfriend. The places which stood out for their sublime eateries were St Emillion; a somewhat random campsite in the middle of Turin owned by a big mad Italian Mama whose restaurant served the most delicious antipasti I have ever tasted; and Barcelona, where the tapas bars mercifully bear little resemblance to many of the lack lustre poor imitations we have over here.

Considering the plethora of such restaurants in the UK and our apparent fondness for this 'small plate' style of dining, it is surprising that the Italian concept of the enoteca has eluded us. Literally meaning 'wine library', enoteca is an Italian word describing a very specialist wine shop which often also offers a bite to eat - the idea being that there are small plates of food available to the serious wine connoisseur sampling said wines. The recently opened Italian Caffè Enoteca in Glasgow's Albion Street has taken this concept and tweaked it to place as much importance on the small plates of food as on the wine.

It was when working in Glasgow last week that I was initially seduced by the beautifully designed interior: sleek wood panelled walls compliment fern green upholstery of the booths, and a marble lamp-lit bar begging to be propped by hungry diners. It's clear to see there were no corners cut in the snagging.

It was Wednesday evening and every table was full - a good sign surely? We were seated at the bar which afforded us a clear view into the open kitchen where the three chefs - while clearly busy - worked calmly and without any visible dramas. As the enoteca name would suggest, the wine selection is vast, offering over fifty mostly Italian wines. When asked to recommend a dry white, the waitress suggested an Orvieto which was spot on. But do not let the excellent wine be a distraction from the food menu of piatti picolli. The selection of vegetarian plates is extensive enough to keep the most prolific of herbivors happy, and the finocchi gratinati was no exception: fennel baked with butter and parmesan until tender; and the artichokes marinated in olive oil, garlic, lemon and parsley were some of the best I've eaten - including those from the Turin campsite restaurant.

Langoustines baked in their shell with garlic until sweet and buttery sat alongside the impressively named 'salsiccia piccante con fagioli e sugo di pomodoro' or 'spicy Italian sausage with fagioli beans in tomato sugo' and was equally impressive in taste. The ossobuco alla milanese was meltingly tender and came complete with marrow filled slice of bone.

Though my dining partner had to admit defeat, my dessert of choice was affogato: homemade vanilla ice cream literally 'drowned' in a freshly brewed espresso. The bill coming in at under £50 was an astounding end to such an excellent and memorable meal, the effect of which was to render me full and deliriously happy.

It is worth pointing out that during our meal no less than two diners approached the kitchen to offer their compliments to the chefs. By the time I left I was considering offering them my first born. It's fair to say this enoteca will be top of my to do list next time I'm in Glasgow.

A WEE BIT OFF TOPIC, BUT...

2008-07-25T16:41:00.014+01:00

When the weather's nice (or hell, even when it's tipping down) I often get an urge to go up to Victoria Street and the Grassmarket for a gander. For those of you familiar with this wee area in Edinburgh's Old Town, you'll know that it is home to some real gems. For those of you less familiar - this wee area is home to some real gems. You can find enough to keep you amused for hours so don't be surprised if you come away from it rich with new paraphanelia but a little more cash poor. This area is home to some of my favorite places, one of which being the Red Door Gallery. This boutique art space supports and exhibits the work of emerging and independent designers and artists, and sells an amazing collection of various bits from books and accessories to jewellery and cameras. It was in there that I came across The Locals' Guide to Edinburgh.

This brilliant book is a guide to the city compiled not by some tourist body in a bid to increase visitor numbers to the castle, but rather is made up of recommendations by Edinburgh locals. These are the places that generic guides forget resulting all too often in visitors missing out on some of the best places the city has to offer. It is beautifully presented and has the feel of a hand written journal which someone has put together just for you. Having gone through a recent phase of feeling little disenchanted with my city, this little book made me fall in love with it all over again. I have rediscovered wonderful places I had all but forgotten and I can see this amazing city again for the magical place it is. If you live in Edinburgh, I guarantee this book will delight and surprise you with places you didn't know existed. It would serve as an excellent memento of the city as well as an indispensible guide to the real Edinburgh for any tourist. If you have even the vaguest interest in this city then I urge you to get yourself a copy here or here. An absolute must.

THE FRUITS OF MY (NON) LABOUR

2008-07-25T14:04:00.011+01:00

I should admit to being somewhat neglectful of the strawberry plant. My attention has shamefully been elsewhere having been seduced by the amazing growth rate of the tomato plant. However, the strawberry plant has well and truly played the trump card by being the first to produce an actual strawberry. Not that the tomato plant stands much chance of producing a strawberry but you get what I'm saying. I am utterly amazed. I feel like a new parent. I want to compare notes with all the other strawberry growers to see how quickly theirs developed, how juicy they are and how quickly they have grasped their times tables. It seems wrong somehow to now want to stuff said offspring into my mouth but c'est la vie. And to make it that little bit more exciting, I am going to do it in real time. Oh yes, I sit here with the strawberry before me, ready to eat...

...Yep, it was marvellous. Now wasn't that edge of your seat stuff? Moving on...

The tomato plant was starting to look ridiculously big in its pot so I made the executive decision to repot it. This was not done without a hefty dose of trepidation as I was convinced this would be the thing which would cause its untimely death. However I needn't have worried because frankly it seems quite happy with it's new home and marvellous new sturdy crutches (or bamboo canes if you prefer). It now really has the look of an outdoor plant slap bang in the middle of my kitchen but not to worry. Actually, it has grown further since this picture was taken and is now threatening to grow higher than the canes already, which means I'll be perusing the shelves of the garden section at B&Q again tomorrow trying to look as though I know what I'm doing there as I search for longer canes. I ask you again - how big do these things get?

WHERE IS CARINE AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH HER BODY?

2008-07-22T14:11:00.021+01:00

So there I was last night, nursing my third Mojito (double and a bit measures of rum, oops) and - contrary to what I've said about it before - seriously weighing up the benefits versus the hideousness of the Atkins diet. I wish I could claim it was the booze what done it, but alas, I must confess to having visited the protein-loving website earlier in the day.

I think I may be having some sort of early mid life food crisis in that I seem to have entirely lost my way in the world of nutrition, health and diet. As last Wednesdays menu so spectacularly demonstrates, at the crossroads marked 'healthy lean and nutritious diet turn left' and 'dirty wrong lardy diet turn right' I made a swift hand break turn a droite. I can't pinpoint exactly when this happened, but I think it was around the time of the days following the Glasgow 10k ('have a wee break from running Carine') which seemed to conveniently blur into weeks, and then Sylvie's hen event (cocktails, cake), and Denmark on business (airport food, Danish food), and Sylvie's wedding (champagne, yet more cake), and the weekend in Brighton (pizza), and.. and... and now I feel disgusting.

If I'm being perfectly honest, I think it happened less recently than all that. While I wouldn't say I was ever obsessed with what I ate, I used to pay real attention to what I put into my body. I have always been a believer that you are what you eat and your body deserves to be treated well. I wouldn't deny myself things on the grounds that they were unhealthy, but instead would indulge occassionally and in moderation. An active lifestyle and fairly regular if at times sporadic gym habit also contributed to my never really having had any major hang ups about my body - outside the normal standard firmer thighs, smaller behind type desires of most females. I've never been Kate Moss but have always been quite happy thank you very much.

A lifestyle where you're on your feet all night working in a nightclub and being 25 years old definitely helped. Not that I consider myself ancient now at the ripe old age of 31 years - I believe that age is a state of mind - however, my metabolism has its own ideas about ageing and it certainly seems hell bent on reminding me as I make my way into my thirties that I've definitely left my twenties behind. They say that as your metabolism slows down it is important to work harder and pay more attention to what you eat. But for reasons which mystify me, I seem to have done just the opposite.

And so it is that I find myself flirting with the idea of Atkins. But it goes against every thing I belive in. I belong to the 'diets don't work - eat less, exercise more' school of thought. Not least because it's all so boring. I don't want to be one of those women who obesses openly and at length about their weight, and fat content and net carbs and all that brouhaha (usually whilst filling their faces with cake I might add). It doesn't come naturally to me either. I love food. I don't want to deconstruct it until it's units of protein and fat and carb and not the luscious tasty marvellous stuff it has always been. The website uses the term 'sexy' too often for my liking too - 'See The Sexy Results You Get By Following The Program! - I hate being so blatently 'marketed' to. But I hate even more that despite being so actutely aware of this there's still a voice in my head whispering 'Oooooh yes, sexy! That sounds just marvellous'. Arrrgh.

I know people who have done it and swear by it, and who claim that they have slowly reintroduced carbohydrate into their diets without regaining weight. But the whole idea of having to cut out fresh fruit and vegetables seems insane, and so opposite to that which we hold as true about basic nutrition, doesn't it? There was Alex's stern warning about 'Atkins Breath' last night which didn't help the cause for the movement either it has to be said. Eurgh.

And so, while I ponder the state of my eating habits and will myself to get a grip, I thought it would be nicely inappropriate to post a recipe for something cheesey and lardy, given to me by Sylvie who is one of those lucky tall and skinny brigade of women who can eat this kind of thing daily for breakfast lunch and dinner whilst floating around serenly in all their waif-like loveliness without gaining so much as a pound. I, of course, am not bitter about this at all.

I am posting this recipe now so that I can share with you how wrong but oh so right it is, and so that I do not make it anytime soon, using the old blog fodder argument as an excuse.

So here ladies and gentlemen, is Gougere. Full of everything which makes you fat and about as anti-Atkins as you can possibly get.

GOUGERE
Serves 3-4

185ml water
75g butter, diced
100g plain flour
half teaspoon maldon sea salt
4 eggs
50g gruyère, diced nto small squares
2 tbsp grated gruyère

Preheat the oven to 220°C.

Put the water and butter into a saucepan over a medium heat. When it reaches the boil, immediately tip in all the flour and the salt.

Beat the flour into the liquid until well-mixed in, then carry on beating over a low heat for a further 30 seconds or so to dry the mixture a little. It is ready when the dough forms a ball. Take off the heat.

Beat in three eggs, one at a time.

Break the last egg into a separate bowl and beat lightly to mix. Carefully add about half of it to the choux pastry mixture and beat in. If the mixture is glossy and falls from the spoon, then you have added enough egg. If not, beat in the remaining egg until the desired consistency is reached. Mix in the diced gruyère.

Spoon the mixture in a ring around the outer area of a greased baking dish, leaving a hole in the middle. It's important to leave a hole in the middle otherwise it will rise too quickly and burn.

Sprinkle the grated gruyère over the dough. Bake in the oven for 25-30 minutes until puffed up high and richly browned.

MY NAME IS CARINE AND I AM A DISGUSTING LARD ASS

2008-07-16T20:39:00.003+01:00

Yesterday I spent NINE HOURS in the car driving home from London after spending the weekend in Brighton with Carrie followed by a meeting in Enfield. Is there ever a day when there are no accidents on the M1/M6? Diversion followed by diversion followed by queue followed by queue followed by service station M&S 'dinner' followed by more than one can of Red Bull resulted in my getting home, finally, at 01:30.

Anyway...

Suffice to say, I was a little bit tired today after my Red Bull fuelled journey and subsequent fitful sleep. I was also hungry. Apparantly sitting on my arse for nine hours makes me very hungry the following day because today I have managed to consume:

a 250g packet of smoked salmon
three Rivita (oh, the irony)
half a lemon
50cl Evian
a cup cake
a cup of chamomile and lavendar tea
50 cl Evian
a whole baked camembert
half a salami
15 cherry tomatoes
half a large ciabatta
another cupcake
a cup of chamomile and lavendar tea
50cl Evian

I think I needed to see this in a list to fully appreciate how revolting I am. How long do you think it will be before they start selling home liposuction kits in Boots? Off for a run in the morning.

SOYA GOOD

2008-07-03T16:59:00.003+01:00

Let me introduce you to my latest obsession: the edamame bean. In short, baby soya beans (I know, I know, Victoria Beckham eats them by the bucket load and she credits them with keeping her teeny tiny etc etc etc. Frankly I don't give a monkeys what VB deigns to eat - and if this is all she's eating that might explain why she always looks so bloody miserable - ridiculous woman. Ok, I'm glad we've got that out of the way.)

Yes, edamame are marvellous.

And they're a bit of a wonder food by all accounts too. Rich in fibre, they can help prevent mood fluctuations by keeping blood-sugar levels steady. They are also a great source of protein, which further helps stabilize blood sugar; and omega-3 fatty acids which have been shown to combat depression. And they contain a high source of vitamin A, vitamin B and calcium to boot.

Add to this that they're tasty and filling and they've ticked all the boxes. Cooked in their shell, they're most often served salted, leaving you to just pop the wee beans out of their shells into your mouth for a tasty snack. However I found them in a recent trip to the supermarket, frozen and ready shelled. Very handy for a quick tomato and edamame salad with petits pois and fresh mint.

DAY OF THE TRIFFID

2008-06-29T12:35:00.004+01:00

On returning from my recent various and short absences I have had to adjust to sharing my kitchen with the veritable triffid which is the tomato plant. How big do these things get?

ABSENCE MAKES THE HEART GROW... HUNGRY?

2008-06-28T16:59:00.020+01:00

Eighteen days without posting. Oh dear.

I've been busy.

First there was Sylvies hen day/night which required more preparation than I might have imagined a hen day/night/event/thing could have ever necessitated. Who knew it was possible to send and receive so many group emails? After what felt like weeks of irrate and desperate planning, Lindsay, Gemma and I finally managed to cobble together a day of hen-shenanigans involving cup cakes, sylvie masks, bright yellow rain ponchos and Edinburgh tour buses. Don't ask. I'll say this much - if you live in a country where the weather is unpredictable to say the least, don't plan a picnic.

PRETTY CUP CAKES WITH CREAM CHEESE FROSTING (cakes adapted from a recipes from Nigella Lawson's How to Eat)
Makes 12

125g self-raising flour
125g unsalted butter - very soft
125g caster sugar
2 eggs
1-2 teaspoons good vanilla extract
1 teaspoon baking powder
few tablespoons milk

For the cream cheese frosting:
50g butter - very soft
150g icing sugar - or to taste
200g cream cheese (I used Philadelphia - you could use light if you want but then where's the fun in that?)
a few drops good vanilla extract or 2 tablespoons of juice and the rind of a lemon

Preheat the oven to 200 degrees. Line a 12 cake tray with paper cases.

Put all the cake ingredients except the milk in a food processor (or you can use an electric whisk), adding a pinch of salt, and blitz furiously.

Pour in 2 tablespoons of milk and process again until you have a smooth flowing cake batter.

Using a spoon and rubber spatula, divide the mixture into the 12 paper cases. There doesn't look like there's going to be enough mixture but there is - remember these will rise.

Cook for 15 - 20 minutes and cool on a wire rack.

While the cakes are cooling, make the cream cheese frosting. Cream the butter and enough of the sugar required to make it pale in colour and light and creamy in texture. I used an electric hand whisk for this.

Add the cream cheese and beat well, adding sugar until you have reached the desired sweetness.

Add the vanilla extract if using. You can add a few drops of hot water loosen the mixture up a bit if it's a little thick. Alernatively, add the lemon rind and lemon juice to loosen the mixture.

When the cakes have cooled, spread the frosting thickly on top using a small spatula or pallet knife.

Decorate however you wish - we used fresh cherries with their stalks still attached - pretty pretty pretty.

I have also been to Denmark and back since I last checked in, where I consumed my body weight in fish, cheese and rye bread. These people know how to eat. Particularly breakfast. Mmmmmmmm.

Then last Wednesday was the day I went to London to be part of the audience on Market Kitchen! It has been pointed out to me that it's not necessarily altogether normal for a young girl (ok, 31 year old girl) to get quite so excited by what is effectively a cookery programme but I say bollocks to that! I love food tv. I once spent three whole days on a sofa with a boy, two bottles of whisky and some cheese, watching nothing but the UKTV Food channel. We didn't even move to go to bed. We just slept right where we were. Oh yes, that is the way to my heart indeed. But that's another story for another time...

I recieved an email from one of Market Kitchens researchers - Andy - on Monday, saying that there would be a nice lady from the W.I on the programme hosting a cake contest, and as such they were looking for someone to bake a Victoria Sponge to be marked and scored.

Now then, I was clearly getting a little bit carried away with myself, because I offered to bake the cake. Why? Who knows. Because I was having fantasies about producing a cake of such majestic beauty; of being such a natural and charismatic force on camera that they'd snap me up and give me my own TV show. I'd be the next Nigella Lawson. Cooking with Carine. I'd beat Gordon Ramsey on The f Word. Ooh - I could co-present Saturday Kitchen with Anthony Worrall Thompson and finally get the chance to tell him we're meant to be together! I'd have a series of cookery books - kitchen bibles if you will which Nigel Slater would render indispensible in his kitchen. Perhaps I could write a column for Olive. I could just see it...

However my plans of TV stardom had one tiny flaw: my last attempt at baking a Victoria Sponge was not great to say the least. Lemon drizzle cake? Yep, can do those. Flourless chocolate cake? Check. Coffee and Walnut cake? Hell yeah. But Victoria Sponge? Not so good. Regardless, I put myself forward like a lamb for slaughter. Later in the afternoon Andy got back to me to say that someone else had already offered to bake the cake. My TV career seemed to be disappearing before my eyes when he said that if I'd like to make a back-up cake - 'just in case' - that would be great. It was fate!

And so it was that at ohmygoditstooearlyoclock on Tuesday morning, I dragged myself out of bed to buy the ingredients required for a Victora Sponge. Two Victoria Sponges in fact - just in case. Several hours later, my kitchen resembling the scene of a first year Home Economics class, out of the oven came four layers of what can only be described as Bricktoria Sandwich rather than anything resembling the light fluffy sponges produced by the W.I, or anyone else who bakes. This was an unmitigated, though if honest not enitrely unexpected, disaster.

The notion of dragging either of these over-sized biscuits to London with me, to potentially have them seen - nevermind tasted - by anyone at Market Kitchen was not good. I know they were just supposed to be stand by cakes, understudies to the role of leading cake, but frankly they would be unable to appear. I made the selfless desicion to sacrifice my burgeoning career as the new Delia and do all at Market Kitchen a service by sparing them the horror of them.

I sent Andy an email apologising profusely for any inconvenience my lack of a Victoria Sponge would cause. I was sure the lady baking the main attraction would turn up with a beautiful sponge worthy of ooohs and aaahs and there would be no need for a 'just in case' cake. I'd be happy to sit in the background quietly mortified and jealous. Oh - what if her cake was so good they offered her a permanent slot?

And so on Tuesday afternoon, slightly frazzled, I got in the car and drove the four hundred odd miles to London where I met Carrie in Islington. After a very welcome bowl of pasta we did our usual and blethered until 2am when we conceded that sleep would be wise given that we needed to be up at 6am to get to the studio for 8.20am as it seems to take at least an hour to get anywhere in London.

If you've done your maths, those who know me will at this point know exactly what's coming. Four hours sleep? It might've been all Margaret Thatcher needed to run the country (that might just explain things...) but for me - try at least seven. Seven and a half is better. Eight is just dandy thanks. Oh yes, I need my sleep. Not enough sleep makes Carine a very tired girl.

Another disaster. I'd never be spotted as the next Jamie Oliver looking like I was about to drift off.

And that I was. After arriving at the studio and meeting Matthew Fort and Tom Parker-Bowles, the exhaustion quickly set in. Once the initial excitement of being on set (just like it is on the TV, but smaller), and the prospect of all the lovely food to come had dissipated, I can honestly say that my prevailing memory of the day is feeling well and truly knackered. If you watch Market Kitchen on Monday 7th July, I'm the girl in the red and blue checkered dress with match sticks keeping her eyes propped open, next to the beautiful blonde girl looking like she's not sure why she's there but is enjoying Paul Rankins Raspberry and Elderflower Trifle. Sorry Carrie. However, if you are approached for TV stardom I will never speak to you again.

Still, the food was tasty and it was interesting to see them make a TV programme. Tamasin Day Lewis made a delicious dish stewing chicken thighs with summer vegetables which I'll definitely make at home and I'll post the recipe when I do so. It's true what they say - there's a lot of standing around and waiting but they really looked after us and kept us supplied with plenty of refreshments. If you're a food programme geek like me, I'd recommend going along.

Needless to say, the lady who did bake the Victora Sponge, produced a marvellous specimen worthy of winning first prize as it did. Then one of the shows producers told me I should have brought along my disasterous cake to use as an example of 'what not to do'.......... gasp! The cheek of it. Can you imagine Nigella doing that?

ANOTHER REASON TO BE CHEERFUL...

2008-06-10T17:30:00.002+01:00

...Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall has announced that the full £86,888 required to distribute his resolution to the Tesco plc shareholders has been raised - marvellous!

REASONS TO BE CHEERFUL

2008-06-10T11:35:00.006+01:00

Quite aside from the impressive foliage my little strawberry plant is showing off these days, it is also now proudly displaying its first flower. I am quite beside myself.

The tomato plant continues to thrive...

...but perhaps the most exciting news of the day is that I have been selected to be part of the audience at a recording of Market Kitchen! How marvellous is that? I am dragging Carrie along with me - I say dragging because a) she isn't moved to hysterics by Matthew Fort as I am, and b) filming starts at 8.30am.

Watch this space...

A TASTE OF SUMMER

2008-06-09T22:30:00.015+01:00

This weekend saw more sunny weather in Edinburgh and as a result I spent most of it outdoors and not in the kitchen. However, the thing about sunny weather is that it always has me hankering for the sort of food you eat when you're on holiday: any sort of tapas, food which you eat with your hands and is more often than not accompanied by a glass or two of something ice cold, fizzy and alcoholic - be it champagne, prosecco or a good old chilled bottle of beer.

The saturday morning farmer's market on Castle Terrace was bustling as usual, and the stalls were buckling under the weight of the beautiful fresh produce. I bought enough vegetables to feed a small army and decided to chargrill them. This isn't something to make if you're in a hurry but if you've got a spare hour and you feel like slaving over a hot griddle then you're in luck. That evening, once the sun had finally started to make it's decent, I sliced up aubergines, courgettes, red onions and great big meaty portobello mushrooms and griddled them until they had a pleasing criss-cross scorch marks on both sides. Juicy red, yellow and orange peppers were scorched on the naked flame of the hob and then steamed in a bag before being peeled of their charred skins and added to the rest of the layered vegetables in a dish. I mixed some finely chopped chilli and a couple of smashed garlic cloves with a good few slugs of olive oil and poured this liberally over the vegetables before allowing them to marinate in the fridge overnight. Hummous, tomato salad, buffalo mozarella wrapped in parma ham, toasted wholemeal pitta and the marinated vegetables made Sunday lunch a tasty affair.

I came across a recipe for Muhammara the other day, which is a Middle Eastern spread I had never heard of before. One of it's main ingredients is pomegranate molasses which is a store cupboard staple in this house but one that I don't get the opportunity to use nearly often enough. And so it was that I found myself pounding away with my pestle and mortar late on Saturday night, wondering whether it might have been a better idea to leave the experimental cookery until the morning... If you have a food processor you can throw all the ingredients in there and blend until smooth.

Muhammara
Serves 2 - 4

3-4 red peppers
12 tablespoons toasted walnuts
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
4 tablespoons bread crumbs
4 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons pomegranate molasses
4 tablespoons tomato puree
1/2 red birds eye chilli
salt and pepper to taste

Roast the peppers over a naked flame until charred all over. place in a plastic bag and seal, allowing them to steam for 10 minutes. Remove from bag - the skins should come away easily. Half and discard the seeds. Chop through thoroughly until mushy before transferring to a pestle and mortar and pound until smooth. Place in a bowl.

Pound the toasted walnuts in a pestle and mortar and add to the peppers.

Add the rest of the ingredients and mix well. You might want to adjust the amount of pomegranate molasses of you don't want your muhammara to be too sweet. If it is too thick, thin down with a little water.

FOWL PLAY

2008-06-09T15:12:00.008+01:00

Not sure how many of you have seen this in the press over the weekend but Tesco are trying their utmost to block Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall's campaign to highlight the plight of factory farmed chickens.

In a bid to force supermarket executives to face public criticism at their AGM, HFW bought a stake in Tesco plc last month in order to enable him to then submit a resolution challenging their claims about poultry welfare and urging them to set new minimum welfare standards. Tesco (one of the biggest retailers in the country) have said they'll only take the resolution to their AGM if HFW meets the costs of distributing the relevant papers to their shareholders (despite being entitled to waive this fee). The costs mount to £86,888 to distribute the paperwork to all 269,000 shareholders.

HFW has already put forward £30,000 of his own money and is now trying to raise the rest. Please click here for more information on this cause and how to donate. There is an online auction to help raise the money and the top prize is to have HFW himself come to your home and cook a roast chicken (not one of Tescos I should imagine...). The deadline is Wednesday 11 June - two days away.

Hmmmmmm, I wonder if he'd stuff it full of lemons and garlic for me?

LITTLE BO PEEP

2008-06-05T21:11:00.006+01:00

That's it. Half marathon training officially starts next week. Sensible eating, no booze (Sylvie's wedding will be an exception to this rule. Oh, and my visit to Carrie in London. Ah, July might actually be an exception to this rule come to think of it) and lots of water etc will be de rigeur for the next twelve weeks.

So this evening I made a HUGE lamb burger from scratch, sandwiched it between toasted ciabatta and topped it with a lovely dollop of tzatziki and fresh salsa and devoured it with zeal.

However my conscience remains intact because it was followed by this: fresh, british and deliciously sweet

Perfect.

NO ACCOUNTING FOR TASTE

2008-06-02T15:50:00.032+01:00

We seem to be having one day on / one day off with the weather here - on Wednesday the heavens opened and remained that way all day, then Thursday saw the kind of weather more typical of the tropics. Well ok not quite, but you get the picture. After Friday's subsequent downpour, Saturday was a gloriously sunny and warm Summer day. Needless to say today is blah. Not hot, not cold, not wet, not warm, just blah.

This year, Channel 4 are hosting their annual taste festivals all over the country, and the weekend saw the second to be held in Edinburgh. Having missed out on this last year, I was determined to get in on the action this time around.

Saturday morning came and, as I have already mentioned, it was a scorcher. Perfect weather for strolling around the meadows, glass of champagne in hand sampling the wares of Edinburgh's best restaurants and finest chefs. I tried to round up some friends but to no avail. I phoned five - FIVE - different friends and not. one. of. them. answered their phones. Texts were sent but unacknowledged. Hello? It's me - you know - me! Your friend? Carine? Apparantly not. I resigned myself to another year of missing out and went off for a sulky walk when I stopped, had a long hard talk with myself and decided I would go to the ball alone. Or the Taste festival anyway. Now then, I'm not someone who shys away from doing things on my own - I'm very independant as it happens. Dinner on my own? Check. Cinema on my own? Tick. A drink on my own in a bar? Been there, got the t-shirt. Anything on my own is fine but for some reason a sunny day in the park felt like something to be shared with friends. Ah well. Off I went, solo.

Well, what a marvellous time I had to myself! Armed with my 'crowns' (official taste festival currency) I perused the various restaurants - Martin Wishart, Ducks at Le Marche Noir, The Tower, Santini, David Bann, number one at The Balmoral, the Plumed Horse, The Kitchin... all proud examples of Edinburgh's finest culinary hotspots. Amongst other things, I tasted braised shin of Ross-shire beef, pearl barley and root vegetables; shoulder of lamb with aubergine caviar, rosemary, tomatoes, black olive and beans and dark chocolate and Pedro Ximenez pot with roast hazlenuts and sugared doughnut. And the best part was that I didn't have to share any of it with anyone.

There I was, happy as larry, thinking how wonderful it was that I could spend as long as I wanted doing whatever I wanted without having to consider what anyone else wanted. Marvellous. And that's when it happened. The clouds parted, the heavens opened and everything was suddenly bathed in a soft glorious light. The world went very quiet but for the gentle singing of angels and the sound of harps. There they were in black and white, on page 7 of my wee taste guide, in the listing for the 'taste theatre' where renowned chefs were giving presentations. Those three words. Three precious, wonderful, beautiful words.

Anthony. Worrall. Thompson.

Now, before you all scoff and mock AWT's lack of super-duper-michelin-chef-uber-cool-credentials I must point out that it's not really his food I'm interested in (though I do think he is very good at what he does - good honest food and all that). No, it's not his culinary skills that do it for me. It's (and you may have to sit down here, I grant you) HIMSELF I'm interested in. Oh yes. I can't recall when it started, and I can't really put my finger on what it is, but I have a bit of a crush on Mr Worrall Thompson. It could be his ginger-esque colouring (I have had one or two run-ins with red haired gentlemen - none of them good as it happens), or it might be his unconventional (ahem) good looks (I've also had my fair share of run-ins with 'unconventional' looking gentlemen - none of them good as it happens), it may be a strange father-figure issue - call it want you want, but there it is. In fact no, I'm not being completely honest. I'll come clean. I do know what it is. He looks a bit dirty. But in a good way. A bit wrong. A bit like he knows what to do with his hands. Oh yes, My Name Is Carine And I'm An AWToholic.

And he was going to be there, in the flesh, at 14:20 until 15:00. Forty minutes of pure, unadultered Anthony. Thank god I came on my own. My friends all know about my AWT fantasies but it's fair to say that they are all a little - how should I put it? - horrified by them. Whilst they would of course have been more than happy to accompany me to see him, I do not doubt for a minute that at least one of them would have found a way to mortify me to the core. There would have been nudging and poking and giggling and snorting and possibly even some dry heaving. Again, thank god I came alone. And oh, thank god I remembered my camera.

I made my way to the taste theatre where Martin Wishart was finishing off his demonstration. Nearly 14:00 - another twenty minutes to wait. I was just considering going off to find myself a drink to calm the butterflies fluttering around in my stomach when to my horror I realised that people were already taking their pews for my beloved - what if I didn't get a good seat?! What if I was left standing at the back, craning my neck for a glimpse - and at 5'1" I don't have height on my side. There was nothing else for it - elbows out, I pushed my way to the front with all the gusto of a desperate housewife in the turkey aisle at M&S on Christmas Eve. I narrowly missed a seat at the front (oooooooh!), when I saw an elderly lady make a bee line for the bench on the second row - no you don't! I launched myself stage-dive-stylee, landed belly first and claimed it as my own. Result! Whilst I couldn't do much about the couple in front of me, I did have a prime spot. Phew.

A girl from Aberdeen and her friend came and sat next to me, they seemed nice enough, we introduced ourselves and started chatting. She had also been to the festival on Thursday evening where she saw Jean-Christophe Novelli. She clearly thought - as quite a lot of women do (not me) - that he's a bit sexy. So excited and caught up in the whole 'sexy chef' chat was I that I blurted out my wee crush on AWT. Said girl and her friend from Aberdeen looked all at once a) startled, b) nauseated and c) disturbed. Funny, their chat dried up a wee bit after that.

And then out he came. Every inch as dirty and wrong in real life as he is on the TV. Marvellous! And he did not disappoint. Whilst I couldn't really recount what he cooked (yes I can - goats cheese and beetroot starter, cod main, chocolate cake dessert) I can tell you that his chat was so outragous, so deliciously inappropriate I think I fell in love with him a little bit more. I won't bore you with the details but between the story about his great grandmother dying at the Boxing Day dinner table of his youth, the horror stories about going to the loo after eating beetroot (I know, I know) and his colourful language throughout, I was enraptured. He made many a pop at Gordon Ramsey: 'you could sail a canoe down the lines on his face' - ouch - which prompted lady from Aberdeen on my left to shout 'pot kettle black'. I just stopped short of shouting 'I'm not with them Anthony'. I swear to god I caught his eye and he smiled. At me. At ME.

And then his forty minutes came to an end, sigh. Excitement over, photos taken, off I went for more food. I bought Martin Wishart's new cookbook and then I even stood in a queue to have him sign it. Because I could. Because I was on my own. Have I mentioned I went on my own?

As I was walking back home in the sunshine, the phonecalls came. The various friends had hangovers from hell from various nights of debauchery, and had spent the beautiful sunny day in their various beds, curtains drawn. And while they were festering away in darkened rooms I was salivating over my little ginger unconventional looking Anthony Worrall Thompson. Well you know what they say, there's no accounting for taste.

TOP TEN

2008-05-27T21:21:00.025+01:00

Now then, first things first. I seem to be having all sorts of problems with the formatting of text on my blog so please accept my apologies for the haphazard and general 'scrunched' appearance of my posts. Rest assured this is causing me no end of frustration and I am trying to find a solution.

Back to the task in hand...

A couple of weeks ago, inspired by that brilliant book High Fidelity by Nick Hornby in which the central character Rob Fleming constructs 'top-five lists' of pretty much anything and everything, I asked my friend Rowan (a fellow food lover and cook) what her top-ten (five just isn't enough) all-time must-have ingredients are. What followed was a lengthy and lively debate on what we simply have to have in our cupboards / fridge at all times or we're kept awake at night in a state of near panic.

I decided I'd blog about my top-ten list, and maybe even create a meme (and if I ever work out how to do this, I will...), and off I went to do exactly that. Who knew it'd take so long to decide on my definitive list??! I tweaked, re-wrote and scored out more times than I care to recount, and I still couldn't be 100% sure of my list's hierarchy other than that which sits at the number one spot (and no prizes for guessing what that is).

Then, on opening the Sunday's Observer Food Monthly I came face to face with their cover story, a feature called Kitchen Confidential: Inside the chef's larders which details those all-essential ingredients Britain's best chefs can't live without. After immediately kicking myself for not having posted my list sooner, I decided on better late than never and finalised said list once and for all. Number One is there in every sense of the words, the rest are in no particular order. I think.

1. GARLIC
Well of course it is. What else could be at the number one spot but garlic? How dull would life be without it? This deeply savoury, fragrant and alluring little bulb is an absolute must have in my kitchen. It makes everything taste like a little bite of heaven.

2. LEMONS
Preferably unwaxed and organic, lemons are such versatile creatures. I love them in both savoury and sweet food - they way they perk up that infamous roast chicken (oh! their natural affinity with garlic...); the way their cirtus fragrance enlivens everything from a vinaigrette to a deeply savoury baba ganoush; the tart sweetness of a zingy tarte au citron; and where would a thin hot crepe be without a squeeze of this heavenly fruit and a good sprinkle of sugar?

3. MALDON SEA SALT
The Mother of all sea salts. This small family run Essex company produces salt made in the traditional way and is prized by food lovers and chefs alike. It has a lovely clean flavour and a satisfying crunch. Whilst the current obsession with sodium intake dictates that we decrease our salt consumption, I continue to use this precious condiment with glee. Can you pass the salt please?

4. FRESH HERBS
The biggest problem is choosing which one. Coriander lends a fresh and exotic note to many a dish. Add it to guacamole for a fragrant finish. Parsley with - well just about everything as far as I'm concerned. With tomatoes? Lovely. But then so is thyme come to think of it. Bite down on a bundle of flat leaf parsley with red onion and capers and I defy you to say you don't like it. Fresh mint in a summer salad or with cucumber; rosemary with lamb; oregano in a freshly simmered ragu; tarragon with chicken; chervil or dill with seafood; a fresh basil pesto. Herbal tea - I drink this by the gallon - chamomile and lavendar, dandelion, peppermint, lemon verbena, nettle... how dull our culinary lives would be without these delicate and oh so essential plants.

5. SPICES
For much the same reason as herbs. Spices are the backbone of some the world's most exciting cuisines. Without a little spice some of the most delicious dishes would taste bland and hollow. A curry without fenugreek, mustard seeds, turmeric, garam masala? Christmas pudding without cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice? Or a chilli without cumin? Good Lord No.

6. MAILLE DIJON MUSTARD
English mustard is too strong and gives you that horrible itchy hot feeling in the front of your head. American mustard is too sweet. Wholegrain mustard is annoying for annoying people. Ok, they all have their place (cooking, as a relish, and cooking respectively), but Dijon is just right. And Maille because it's what my Mum used to buy.

7. CAPERS
A veritable taste sensation. I used to know someone who described the taste of capers as being like 'biting into a bud of petrol' but this didn't stop me and an old flatmate popping some into a shot glass and eating them with our fingers whilst settling down to a movie (nor did his girlfriend's squeals of horror). Whether salted or in vinegar I adore these tasty little creatures. When I was little I used to get up at ohmygod o'clock on a Saturday morning, creep through to the kitchen, and while other children all over the country were spilling Coco Pops on their kitchen floors I was sitting crossed legged on the floor in front of the open fridge eating capers out of the jar by the handful. Oh yes.

8. HARISSA PASTE - MALOUF'S SPICE MEZZA OR BELAZU ROSE
When a hot fragrant kick is required I reach for the harissa. What a gorgeous flavour this adds to so many things. Makes chicken even sexier, let down with a touch of water and stirred into cous cous it turns this wee grain into something unbelievably moreish. Hell it even does it for me on a cheese sandwich.

9. MARMITE
Love it love it love it. Never in a squeezy bottle but always in the glass jar, so that you have to angle the tip of your knife under the rim to get at the last of it. Marvellous on toast, or used to add depth and flavour to everything from stews to soups. The Guinness limited edition was a mark of genius.

10. MARIGOLD SWISS VEGETABLE BOUILLON
Simply because it is the very best vegetable stock around. Made only from vegetables, it has a lovely pure and rich legume flavour, with no synthetic after taste. And even though Delia swears by it I still love it and use it religiously.

11. DUFRAIS RED WINE VINEGAR
A must-have for vinaigrettes, pickling, deglazing, marinating, I have this in the cupboard at all times.

Oops, that was 11. And I still have another five I could have added.

YOU'RE ONLY AS GOOD AS YOUR LAST POST

2008-05-26T19:17:00.053+01:00

Ok, ok, I hold my hands up. My last post was less than inspiring and featured a pretty lack lusture plate of food to boot. I maintain that the progress of my tomato plant is quite exciting but admittedly, not the stuff thrilling blogs are made of.

May I therefore offer the following as an attempt at an apology: five recipes. Yesterday I spent all afternoon in the kitchen working my little fingers to the bone in order to win back your affection. Well that, and to cook up some tasty offerings for a Sunday late lunch.

Regular readers of this blog will already be familiar with my fondess for and frequent use of garlic, and I seem to be gravitating towards Eastern European food at the moment for exactly that reason. Lunch consisted of: lamb koftes, tabbouleh, baba ganoush and tzatziki - in short, a bit of a cultural mish-mash.

Like much of what I've been cooking lately, yesterday's food required that my pestle and mortar be very much in attendance but as said equipment is currently my favorite toy that was just fine with me. If you don't already own one I urge you to rectify that quick smart - a good sized, heavy, solid one with rough sides to aid the grinding. They can be quite expensive but a recent snoop around the kitchen section of TK Maxx turned up some pretty decent ones for not much money at all so I'd suggest having a look there.

LAMB KOFTES
Yields 12 koftes

800g organic minced lamb
2 tablespoons whole cumin seeds
1 tablespoon whole coriander seeds
1 tablespoon ground sumac
handful finely chopped fresh parsley
handful finely choped fresh mint
handful finely chopped fresh coriander
3 big fat garlic cloves
1 rounded teaspoon harissa paste
good pinch Maldon Smoked Sea Salt (though unsmoked is fine)
freshly ground black pepper

bamboo skewers - to prevent burning, soak these in water while you prepare the meat.

Using a sharp knife, chop through the minced lamb to achieve a finer, ground texture. You can of course use a food processor to do this.

Transfer the ground meat into a mixing bowl (or you can add the following ingredients to your food processor and mix using that - I prefer the good old fashioned method of using my hands!).

Lightly toast the cumin and coriander seeds in a dry hot pan - keep an eye on them so that they don't burn, they won't take long - when they omit a wonderful aroma they are ready. Transfer the seeds to a pestle and mortar and grind to a fine powder. Your kitchen will smell glorious. Add the ground spices to the lamb.

Add the sumac, chopped herbs and harissa paste. Crush the garlic to a paste using the sea salt and the back of a knife. Add the to the lamb with an extra pinch of salt and a good grind of black pepper.

Roll up your sleeves and mix the lamb and spices together well with your hands (or processor).

Dry off the skewers. Take a handful of the lamb mixture and push and shape this around and along the skewer, making sure it is tight. Press little indents into the meat as you go along. Repeat until all the kofte meat is used.

Preheat your grill or griddle pan until hot. I used the grill simply because the skewers were too long for my griddle, but the griddle (or barbeque) would give a lovely charred flavour. Cook until golden on all sides.

I kept aside a little ground cumin and coriander and along with the pan juices from the koftes, heated this in a little olive oil. Pour this over the koftes before serving for extra tastiness.

A fresh and cooling tzatziki makes a perfect accompaniment for deeply savoury lamb koftes. I very briefly blanch the cucumber as this enhances the flavour and colour and stops the tzatziki from being watery. Some people like to add dill but I tend to stick to mint - do whatever makes you happy!

TZATZIKI
Serves 4

1 large cucumber
2-3 rounded tablespoons greek yoghurt (or to taste)
a good handful of fresh mint (or to taste)
1 garlic clove (or to taste)
Maldon sea salt
ground black pepper

Cut the cucumber in half length ways and scrape out the wet seeds using a teaspoon. Finely shop into small pieces, or grate.

Blanch the cucumber in boiling water for a few seconds, strain and rinse under cold running water. Thoroughly squeeze out any excess liquid and place the cucumber in a bowl.

Add the yoghurt, mint and garlic (crushed to a paste with a little salt using the back of a knife) before mixing well. Season to taste.

(Yet another) one of my favorite dishes in tabbouleh. This beautifully light and fragrant salad is a joy to eat at anytime. Like most things I make, this is best made according to your personal taste, but that's not very helpful for you. So here is my adaptation of the recipe from The Moro Cookbook by Sam and Sam Clark at Moro. Don't be fooled by the seemingly measley amount of bulgar wheat - it swells and with the rest of the ingredients makes a substantial salad.

TABBOULEH
Serves 4

85g bulgar wheat
300ml vegetable stock (I use Marigold Bouillon)
400g sweetest tomatoes, deseeded and cut into small cubes
4 spring onions, trimmed and finely chopped
3 small bunches fresh flat leaf parsley, roughly chopped1 small bunch fresh mint, roughly chopped
good slug olive oil
juice of a lemon (the Moro recipe also calls for cinnamon, all spice and garlic, but I prefer to dress it just with olive oil and lemon juice to really let the freshness of the herbs and the tomatoes speak for themselves).

Rinse the bulgar wheat in cold water and place in a bowl. Prepare 300ml of stock or hot water, pour over the bulgar wheat and cover. Leave to absorb the liquid while you prepare the rest of the ingredients.

Drain off the bulgar wheat if necessary (it should still have a chewy bite), making sure all the excess liquid is gone.

Mix all the ingredients together and dress lightly with the oil and lemon. Check seasoning before serving.

I can not claim to be a massive fan of aubergines. I find their texture too spongey and shiver inducing, and frankly their ability to absorb oil terrifies me. For a long time I could only really bear them in a good Melanzane alla Parmigiana and avoided them otherwise. However, when I first bought the aforementioned Moro Cookbook I came across a recipe for Baba ganoush which persuaded me to give it a try, reassurred by the fact that the aubergines are charred and then mashed. And I'm glad I did try it because what results is a deep, smokey dish which I have returned to time and time again.

BABA GANOUSH from The Moro Cookbook by Sam & Sam Clark
Serves 4-6

3 large aubergines, about 750g-1kg in total
2 garlic cloves, crushed to a paste with 1 teaspoon salt
juice of 1 lemon
3 tablespoons tahini paste
4 tablespoons olive oil
sea salt and black pepper

Pierce the skins of the aubergines to prevent them from exploding and grill whole over a hot barbeque, directly on the naked flame on a gas hob, or under the grill until the skin is charred and crispy all over and the flesh is very soft. If none of these options is available, place in a very hot oven at 220 degrees/475f/gas mark 7 for about 45-60 minutes until soft inside. Remove from the heat.

When cool enough to handle, discard the tops and peel off the skin, scraping the flesh from the back of the skin if necessary. Place the flesh and any juices in a large mixing bowl and either whisk or beat by hand until almost smooth (we like a bit of texture).

Add the garlic, lemon juice, tahini and olive oil, stir in and taste for seasoning. If the taste is a little strong, add few tablespoons of water.

Some toasted wholemeal pittas completed this meal which was greedily eaten partly with our hands, partly with forks, and entirely in silence punctuated only with oohs, aahs and much lip smacking.

Now, I know I alluded in my last post to baking a cake, but after the heady and exotic koftes etc, a cake seemed just... well, wrong. And so it was that I found myself pondering over ice cream recipes in a bid to find something fitting to round off the meal. I think the common garden variety of flavours are taken care of by the like of Rocombe Farm and Haagen Dazs, and so when I make ice cream myself I like it to be something I'm not likely to come across on a jaunt to the supermarket. I'm always looking for something interesting and unusual to flavour ice cream and have a tendancy to gravitate towards herbs and or spices for this.

Not having much luck and struggling to find a recipe that hit the mark, it was whilst off on a tangent that I found myself reading about caraway, and how well it works with creamy dishes. My mother uses caraway to flavour bread - but beyond that I have to say it's not spice I use.

However, the seed of an idea was planted and the resulting ice cream has a delicate and subtle flavour with a texture which is so dense and creamy it manages to be almost overwhelmingly rich and completely more-ish at the same time. This ice cream would be a brilliant accompaniment to say a tarte tatin, or some warm spiced mulled fruits. For those who are in any way sceptical - I urge you to try this. It is delicious.

A little goes a long way here but double the quantities for more people.

CARAWAY ICE CREAM
Serves 2-4

200ml double cream
200ml full fat milk
1/2 vanilla pod, split lengthways with the seeds scraped out
3 teaspoons caraways seeds
4 eggs yolks
88g unrefined caster sugar

Lightly toast the caraway seeds in a dry hot pan to realease their natural oils. Transfer them to a pestle and mortar and pound to break them up a little.

Place the cream, milk, caraway and vanilla pod and seeds in a pan and heat gently until just reaching boiling point.

While the milk mixture is heating, whisk the egg yolks and sugar until pale and creamy.

When the spiced milk mixture is ready, carefully strain and whisk gradually into the egg mixture until properly combined.

Return this custard mix to the heat and cook very gently, stirring with a wooden spoon. Do not let the custard overheat. When the custard has thickened and coats the back of the spoon, strain the custard and allow to cool.

Transfer to an ice cream machine and churn, or transfer to a suitable container and place in the freezer. Take the mixture out every half hour or so and beat with a fork to break up any ice crystals.

THIS MOJO IS TEMPORARILY SUSPENDED

2008-05-22T10:09:00.014+01:00

I have to be honest and say that I seem to be having a bit of a battle with my blogging mojo at the moment. I don't know if it's that I'm lacking some inspiration, or that I've got quite a lot of other pretty pressing stuff going on right now, but I am aware that I'm not being as attentive to my blog as I'd like. Rest assured that this is just a phase and I'm sure I'll be right back on it in no time. I might even try and bake a nice cake or something over the weekend as a peace offering, ok?

In the meantime, it might not make the most thrilling post, but here's yesterday's lunch: Beluga Lentil Salad with Butternut Squash and Asparagus. Black Beluga Lentils are very like Puy Lentils but are grown in the cool dry climate of America's Northern Plains. A wee bit of goat's cheese would have been perfect in this but I was having a busy day and had to go with what was in the fridge.

I should also take this opportunity to give you an update on the tomato plant - now this is exciting:

Look at those leaves! Now, I don't want to jump the gun as they say, but I am quite clearly a very skilled horticulturalist in the making. Oh yes.

And speaking of jumping the gun - whilst I didn't quite win the race on Sunday, I did set a new personal best which I'm very pleased with, particularly as it was a scorching day in Glasgow. It would appear that the mound of pasta did it's job.

ENERGY SPAGHETTI AND CURDLED MILK

2008-05-17T18:49:00.040+01:00

I said in a previous post called Recovery Food that the best thing about going for a long run on a Sunday is the stuffing of your face afterwards. Whilst I stand by this, I would like to add that another very good thing about a long run on a Sunday (or in tomorrow's case, the Women's Resolution Asset Managment 10k race in Glasgow with Sylvie and Lindsay) is the stuffing of your face the day before. But not just stuffing your face - stuffing your face full of carbs. Lovely. Whilst I could never indulge in the whole Atkins movement, I do try not to go too over the score with the old carbohydrates simply because they can leave me feeling a bit bloated and sluggish. However, the day before race day I like to tell myself I'm taking action to prevent the onset of fatigue during said event. I'm sure you'll agree that this is very responsible of me and not a convenient excuse to load up on pasta and bread... ahem.

So today's feast was Spaghetti a la Carine as it's known in this household, or Spaghetti Aglio e Olio with some other bits thrown in for good and tasty measure. The basic recipe, as I'm sure you're already aware, is garlic and chilli very gently cooked in olive oil, with chopped flat leaf parsley added at the end with al dente spaghetti. The result is easily one of the most deliciously more-ish pasta dishes you'll ever eat. I am always amazed that this simple dish isn't found on more Italian restaurant menus.

I often add some other bits and pieces - finely chopped Kalamata olives, cherry tomatoes, and some fresh crab adds an interesting dimension. Today though, instead of crab I added fleshy king prawns which did the job of soaking up the delicious garlicky flavours admirably. Tasty tasty tasty.

As I was so conscientiously preparing my body's glycaemic stores for tomorrow, I felt that it would be wise to have some bruschetta too - just to be on the safe side you understand. Whilst shopping for the basic ingredients of ciabatta, tomatoes etc, it came to mind that I've been meaning to try making paneer, the indian cheese, for ages ( - as you do. Trust me, this sounds like a bit of a tangent but it will all become clear in a minute). I had never even tasted paneer but I knew that it's a fairly gentle cheese, with a similar appearance to cottage cheese or even ricotta. I had also heard that it's very easy to make and so I got to thinking that this might a) be an interesting thing to do and b) be a novel addition to my bruschetta. There, I told you it'd make sense eventually.

So, it turns out that paneer is the easiest thing to make, ever. Well, I dare say there are easier things, but those things aren't cheese. This is me, making cheese. Oh yes, Alex James eat your heart out. In fact, this isn't just easy but it's fun too - if they're not squeamish wee bairns this would a great thing to do with your children.

All you need is full fat milk, a lemon and some muslin. And a cooker and a pot etc but you get the idea.

PANEER

Place the milk in a pan and heat gently until it just starts to boil.

When it reaches this point, turn off the heat and squeeze in the juice of a lemon teaspoon by teaspoon. Stir the milk until it starts to split. If it shows no sign of splitting carefully add more lemon juice until it does.

It will quickly curdle completely until it has separated into curds and whey:

At this point, line a sieve with a muslin cloth (or even a clean tea towel) and drain off the liquid:

The curds now need to be rinsed with water to remove any sourness from the lemon:

Let the water drain off and then wring the muslin cloth thoroughly (incidentally, I'm not sure this is quite what Liz Earle had in mind for this muslin cloth but not to worry...) and remove all the excess liquid until you are left with a little squashy bundle.

Weigh this down with something heavy (I used a cast iron Le Creuset casserole) and leave for half an hour for the cheese to firm up.

When you upwrap your now-slightly-flatter bundle, it will look something like this:

This can be used in various Indian recipes - it can be transferred to the fridge to firm up a bit more and then cut into chunks to be marinated, or it can be used in it's softer state. It has a delicate, milky flavour with a dense creamy texture which is precisely what I was looking for for my bruschetta.

I crumbled it into small chunks, and added it at the last minute to my bruschetta mix of tomatoes and parsley seasoned with salt and pepper.

It was then piled onto ciabatta slices which had been toasted and spread with fresh basil pesto (same method as Wild Garlic Pesto but using basil and a garlic clove instead of wild garlic).

I am now nicely bloated and sluggish and if I don't win that damn race tomorrow there'll be trouble.

THE DAY FROM HELL

2008-05-16T22:53:00.005+01:00

We all have them.

What started as a gloriously sunny happy day, finished as a day I'm glad to be at the end of.

Frankly, there was no other thing for it tonight than this: a rich, sweet and comforting little lavendar cupcake courtesy of Waitrose.

More over the weekend when I promise I'll be renewed and full of the joys of Spring (or Summer even) and cooking.

STRAWBERRY FIELDS

2008-05-12T16:32:00.005+01:00

Well it would seem that Alex and Rowan are determined to make a gardener out of me yet (albeit one without a garden) or at the very least a grower of red fruits, as they have now bestowed upon me this little strawberry plant.

Not content with making me the sole carer of a tomato plant, they have somehow felt confident enough to add this to the family. I hope and pray both plants bear fruit or I fear I shall be referred to the vegetable growers equivalent of social services.

ALLIUM URSINUM

2008-05-08T21:33:00.057+01:00

I was in Valvona's a couple of weeks ago when I spotted bags of wild garlic. If I'm perfectly honest, aside from them bringing back childhood memories of summers spent in France playing in the woods, I wasn't entirely sure what I'd do with them and so I left them where they were. However, they played on my mind ever since so I returned last week to buy some. Of course, on that occassion they didn't have any and so I thought I had missed my chance this year. That is until yesterday when I popped in to buy a wee panettone to munch on the way home - there they were again. So this time I grabbed two lots and wandered home in the sunshine, taking surreptitious sniffs at their glorious garlicky fragrance all the way...

Wild garlic leaves - or ramsons - are long and glossy and look similar to that of Lily of the Valley, though eating the poisonous latter isn't to be recommended as this can apparantly lead to death. Lovely. So the moral of the story is: if in doubt, rub the leaves. If your fingers smell of garlic, you're safe.

After giving the matter of what to do with them some thought and a touch of research the obvious choice was to make a pesto. If like me you adore anything garlicky and a have a wee penchant for a good homemade pesto, you will love love love this. In fact to be prefectly frank, even if you have a general fondness for garlic you'd do well to get yourself out of the house and track down some of these wild leaves because this pesto is good enough to eat on it's own with a spoon. Although I'm not sure your loved ones will thank you for it afterwards.

WILD GARLIC PESTO
Serves 2 garlic lovers or 4 lightweights

(I'm afraid these are more of my vague measurements - adjust to taste)
50g wild garlic leaves
a tiny wee sprinkle of Maldon sea salt
50g pine nuts (or however much you fancy)
inch lump of parmesan, chopped into bits (ditto)
a good slug of olive oil (ditto)

Give the leaves a good rinse and dry (a salad spinner is useful here), and cut away the thickest part of the stalks.

Chop the leaves up fairly finely and put them in a pestle and mortar. Sprinkle with a tiny bit of Maldon (don't over do it or the pesto will be horribly salty - just enough so that the tiny crystals grind into the leaves), and pound away with the pestle until the leaves start to mush a bit and your olfactory senses are given a right old treat.

Add the pine nuts and parmesan and continue to pound and grind until the mixture resembles pesto - add the olive oil as you go along and taste test all the while.

If you decide to make this - and I really hope you do - this is the point at which you swoon and wish you'd made more.

This pesto was to accompany simply baked trout fillets (or really, the trout accompanied the pesto...), but I needed to make something else to go alongside it. As the pesto utilised the garlic leaves in their raw form, I thought it would be nice to make something which involves cooking them, and that's when I thought of dolmades. I'm not the biggest fan of dolmades normally, mainly because of the texture of the vines leaves which are traditionally used to wrap them - they can sometimes be a little chewy and stringy. I thought the delicate texture of the wild garlic leaves would be a perfect substitute and the mild flavour when cooked would lend itself well to these little parcels.

Now, at this point I think it's important to say that if you're planning a quick fuss free dinner, dolmades is not the way to go. They're a bit fiddly. However, they were delicious, went superbly with the trout and pesto and I'll definitely make them again. Just not when I'm falling over with hunger.

WILD GARLIC DOLMADES
Serves 2 - 3

16 good sized wild garlic leaves, washed
100g bulgar wheat
200g good vegetable stock
2 shallots
8-10 olives
8-10 sun dried tomatoes
handful fresh mint
handful fresh parsley
squeeze lemon juice
slug olive oil
1 teaspoon harissa

Rinse the bulgar wheat and place in a bowl, pour over the stock and cover. Leave for 30 minutes.

Blanch the wild garlic leaves in boiling water and refresh immediately in a bowl of iced water. Set aside.

When the bulgar wheat is tender, strain off any remaining stock if necessary.

Finely shop the shallot and gently cook in a little olive oil until translucent. Chop the olives, sun dried tomatoes, mint and parsley and add to the bulgar wheat along with the shallots.

Add a squeeze of lemon, a slug of olive oil and season to taste. Loosen the teaspoon of harissa with a little hot water (about a tablespoon) and add to the mixture. Mix well.

Take two wild garlic leaves and lay shiny side down, slightly over lapping. Straighten off the stalk ends.

Place a spoonful of the bulgar wheat mixture in the middle of the leaves at the stalk end and fold over once, tucking the sides in as tightly as you can. Roll up into a neat sausage-shaped parcel, ensuring that there are no gaps. Repeat this process until you have eight.

Place the dolmades in a steamer (I very slightly oiled the bottom of mine so that they wouldn't stick), and steam for 15-20 minutes.

These would also be good with a little crumbled feta or halloumi added to the bulgar wheat.

A heady and aromatic dinner - needless to say, I apologise in advance to anyone who will have the misfortune to find themselves in close conversation with me tomorrow.

COCOGHURT

2008-05-07T21:13:00.008+01:00

Tonight was one of those evenings when I got in from my run and just couldn't be bothered to cook anything. So it was a wholemeal pitta stuffed full of vegetables and tuna I'm afraid - very gourmet indeed.

However, I did buy three juicy mangos today and one of them in particular was just begging to be eaten this evening so that's exactly what I did. I spruced it up with a yoghurty concoction which really doesn't merit the writing of an actual recipe but it consisted basically of this:

a dollop of Total greek 2% fat yoghurt

a wee chunk of pure creamed coconut, softened with a TINY bit of freshly boiled water - and I really do mean TINY - just enough to make it into a thick paste

a wee dribble of Belvoir organic ginger cordial (because that's what was in the fridge but if you've got a jar of stem ginger in syrup the syrup from that would be just grand)

The measurements are deliberately vague because it's a real 'to taste' number, but I just mixed it all together and plonked it on the sliced mango and I'm telling you this because it was very tasty. It would be good also if the mango was brushed with honey and caramelised under the grill... but I was far to impatient for any of that tonight.

The greek yoghurt is the essential bit because it's nice and thick - although plain fromage frais would be good too. Oooh, but the best thing in the world to do with plain fromage frais is to ladle Banania by the heap-load into it - DElicious - if you're ever in France, or know anyone who is, buy Banania. It's the greatest thing ever.

Anyway...

Trust me, I tried to make this look good, I honestly did but it just wasn't playing the game. So against my better judgement here is a picture of said gingerycoconutyyoghurtymango. It tasted better than it looks.

GROWING UP

2008-05-07T16:28:00.004+01:00

Well I do believe there seems to be some progress. Not much I grant you, but a little. We appear to have new leaves. How very exciting.

THIS ONE'S FOR CHEF MD!

2008-05-06T15:48:00.003+01:00

I have just been very pleasantly surprised to find a comment on my previous Warm and Nutty Cinamon Quinoa post - from none other than the author of Chef MD's Big Book of Culinary Medicine himself, Dr John La Puma.

I am thrilled - and very flattered - that he took the time to look at my blog, and contrary to what I thought, his Chef MD's Big Book of Culinary Medicine is indeed available to buy in the UK from Amazon.

It's definitely on my shopping list...

THIS ONE'S FOR RACHEL

2008-05-06T11:25:00.006+01:00

I came across a recipe on 101 Cookbooks last night that I just could not resist. At the risk of looking as though I search other food blogs for ideas and then simply regurgitate them as my own, I simply had to share this one with one with you.

I am a masive fan of quinoa. Whilst not technically a grain, quinoa can be used as a substitute for nearly any grain in cooking. Actually the seed of a leafy plant, quinoa’s relatives include spinach, beetroot and Swiss chard.

It's beneficial properties are seemingly endless: a good source of dietary fibre and phosphorus, high in magnesium and iron, easily digested, rich in protein (12%-18%), iron, potassium and other vitamins and minerals, and unlike wheat or rice, quinoa contains a balanced set of essential amino acids for humans, making it an unusually complete food.

And perhaps most importantly it is delicious, with a delicate and slightly nutty flavour, making it a great alternative to cous cous or white rice. I eat this frequently but when I do I always use it in savoury dishes - cooked in a little stock and mixed with roasted vegetables, as an accompaniment or in fact as a dish in itself with a tomato salad on the side, say.

So when I saw this recipe on 101 Cookbooks from Chef MD's Big Book of Culinary Medicine (which unfortuantely seems to only be available in the USA) I knew immediately what I'd be having for breakfast this morning.

WARM AND NUTTY CINNAMON QUINOA adapted from that published on 101 Cookbooks

Serves 4

1 cup quinoa, rinsed

1 cup milk

1 cup water

2 cups fresh blackberries or blueberries

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/3 cup chopped nuts, toasted (I used almonds, but pecans or walnuts would be good too)

honey to taste

Combine milk, water and rinsed quinoa in a pan and bring to the boil. Reduce heat to medium-low; cover and simmer 15 minutes or until most of the liquid is absorbed.

While the quinoa is cooking, lightly toast the nuts in a dry non-stick pan.

When most of the liquid is absorbed turn off the heat, cover and stand for 5 minutes.

Stir in the cinnamon, berries and some of the nuts, reserving some berries and nuts for serving.

Serve in a bowl with the remaining nuts and berries on top. Drizzle over honey to taste.

I usually eat porridge in the morning but I think after today, quinoa is going to be making a regular appearance at my breakfast table.

BANK HOLIDAY BLISS

2008-05-05T19:15:00.039+01:00

So here we are, at the end of a lovely sunny bank holiday weekend. Spent with friends, it's been quite eventful.

Friday night saw the start of the weekend in Glasgow with Carrie, who was visiting from London where she is a Features Writer for a Wedding glossy. She seems to be always jetting off to some glamorous destination on a press trip - having recently returned from Safari in South Africa, she spent last week in Paris and is off to the Seychelles next week. I, of course, am not jealous AT ALL.

Another perk of her job is to road-test 'wedding nights' in the country's swankiest hotels, and this is a perk which she often shares with friends. Last Easter weekend we stayed in a suite at the Mandarin Oriental in Knightsbridge, where we laughed our heads off during a very long and entertaining dinner in their Michelin Star restaurant Foliage. It was a veritable battle to get through the seemingly endless plates of food - not because they were bad, but perhaps stuffing our faces with cakes at Laduree an hour before our dinner reservation wasn't the best idea in the world. Indeed the food was extraordinary, but the service was even more so. I will never forget the running commentary which accompanied every one of the many courses and bottles of wine, and the waiter who was so attentive he walked me to the ladies room and then ran to the table after me when I tried in vain to get back without him noticing.

This year, she invited me along to stay in Glasgow's Hotel du Vin at One Devonshire Gardens. I've been fortunate enough to stay and eat there before and have always enjoyed it so was looking forward going again. Dinner was included and the food was undoubtedly very good, but we couldn't help but snigger at the 'air' (aka foam) gracing nearly every dish.

I decided to have a 'just one' drink with dinner, having been tee-total for the past few weeks in preparation for the Bupa Great Run Edinburgh 10k. A bottle of wine later and a declaration of that old 'in for a penny...' chestnut, I saw fit to consume my body weight in alchohol and ended the evening at 2.30 on Saturday morning, watching Super Nanny in the massive bed and nursing a Gin and Tonic... oops. Needless to say, after a breakfast of eggs benedict to soak up the offending alchohol, Saturday was spent cursing my stupidity and drinking copious amounts of water in a vain attempt to correct my wrongs.

Despite my spectacularly ill-timed fall off the wagon and subsequent hangover-from-hell, I ran in the aforementioned race yesterday and it was quite an experience. Edinburgh is a hilly city and the weather was warm and humid so it was a challenge, and Friday night's antics certainly didn't help. However it was great fun with a real sense of achievement at the end. Rowan, Alex and Richard cheered me on at the finish line and we celebrated afterwards over lunch in The Ship on the Shore in Leith. Needless to say, I won't be drinking between now and the next race on the 18th. No really...

I was flicking through the May issue of Olive magazine in the hotel in Glasgow when I came across a recipe for Chicken Baked with Globe Artichokes and Lemon. Now having already previously waxed lyrical about my obsession with chicken and lemons, I won't be a bore, but adding artichokes into the mix? Hello! I'm there! I love artichokes. When I was little my Mum used to simmer them in a big pan of water and serve them whole with bowls of vinaigrette containing chopped boiled egg. I still love to dip the leaves into this gloopy mixture before scraping off the sweet flesh with my teeth. And those beautiful chargrilled and marinated artichoke heart antipasti that the Italians do so brilliantly - I could happily eat by the bucket load. So it was a bit of a no-brainer really when I considered what to make for dinner tonight.

We are so lucky in Edinburgh to have Valvona and Crolla, a fantastic and renouned Italian specialist food shop and wine merchant (and purveyor of particularly good aforementioned chargrilled artichoke hearts). The smell alone is as good a reason as any to pay a visit and if you're feeling at all weary, a trip to Valvona's will almost certainly lift your spirits. There I found some beautiful little purple artichokes nestling amongst the vegetables and a lemon so huge and regal with it's glossy leaves intact I couldn't resist it.

I think people are often put off using artchokes because of the perceived amount of preparation required but it's really quite easy. For this recipe you need to cut off the stalk flush with the base, pull off the tough outer layer of leaves and trim the remaining ones with scissors. Cut off the pointed top, cut into quaters and remove the indigestible choke. Place in a bowl of cold water with the juice of half a lemon to stop it from going brown.

The recipe was so straightforward that I used it rather as a guide rather than a step by step set of instructions. In a nutshell: I took 4 small onions cut into wedges and layed them in the bottom of a large casserole with a couple of lemons cut into quarters, 4 garlic cloves which had been squashed and the prepared artichokes, then topped this with a good slug of white wine and a drizzle of olive oil. I then placed the chicken on top - cleaned, seasoned, stuffed full of lemons and with a little butter pushed carefully between the skin and flesh on the breast to keep it moist. Into the oven at around 190 degrees for about 20 minutes per 500g plus 30 minutes.

When the chicken was ready I placed it aside to rest, drained some of the lemony juices to eat with the chicken and stirred a handful of chopped parsely through the vegetables in the pan. Served simply with a basic green lettuce to mop up the sticky juices it was a delicious end to the day.

No dessert tonight but I must just tell you about my new favorite thing - The Ginger People's Original Ginger Chews from California. I came across these by chance on a recent trip to Beets (to buy more Clipper Chamomile and Lavendar tea - another fixation of mine) and frankly I think I need to go back and buy their entire stock. They. Are. So. Good. If like me you love the fiery taste of a good strong ginger beer and the warming sensation as it slides down your throat, you'll love these. Good for nausea too, they are are the bees knees.

FAST FOOD

2008-05-01T22:33:00.027+01:00

For some people the notion of coming home after a day's work and then spending the whole evening in the kitchen is nothing short of hideous. I couldn't disagree more. For me, cooking is the ultimate stress relief (unless of course I'm making Chocolate-Tart-Topped-With-Soft-Meringue) and the source of complete catharsis. What better way to switch off from the pressures of the outside world than to lock yourself in your kitchen and create?

That said however, there are definitely times when speed is called for; when the rumble in your belly is louder than your desire to potter and you need to come up with the goods quickly.

After this evening's run I needed to eat. Fast. Fortunately I had pre-empted such a situation and had some beautiful crevettes in the fridge waiting for me. A popular dish in this household, this has got to be one of the easiest and quickest way to prepare these little creatures.

Serves 2

tablespoon of olive oil

2 red birds eye chillies, de-seeded and finely chopped

2 fat cloves of garlic, finely chopped

16 large crevettes from a good supplier

a glass of good white wine - I use a Sancerre and drink the rest with dinner...

a handful of parsley, roughly chopped

In a shallow pan, very very gently heat the chillies and garlic. The idea is to flavour the oil and soften the garlic - not to fry it. Keep an eye on this as the garlic can burn easily - whisk the pan off the heat if it heats up too fast. If the garlic burns it becomes acrid and you'll need to start again!

When the garlic has started to soften and smells delicious and sweet, add the crevettes.

As they start to change from grey to vibrant orange, move them around a little. You don't want to over-cook them, just allow them to colour evenly. This should take very little time.

At this point, add the wine. Allow the wine to come up to a gentle simmer, then place a lid on the pan and allow the crevettes to cook for a minute or so - no more.

Throw in the parsley and you're good to go.

We eat this out of the pan with our hands like heathens and mop up the juices with crusty bread. The first couple will definitely test the heat sensitivity in your fingers but I promise - you won't care.

HERBAL REMEDY

2008-04-28T18:49:00.015+01:00

There are some days when you return home from work and wish you'd never bothered crawling out from under your duvet that morning in the first place. These are the days when I most crave something really reassuring - food which means home. Today was such a day.

This age of food-obsession has brought about the availability of so many different types of produce, and thank goodness for that. It is always with some disbelief then that I scan the shelves when buying fresh herbs. Parsley, basil, coriander, rosemary, mint, chives. Thyme and dill if you're lucky. And whilst I am delighted to be able to buy these in abundance, where's the tarragon, marjoram, sorrel, lovage, lemon verbena? I live for the day when I walk into a supermarket and find chervil. And so it was with pleasant surprise that I found fresh oregano and lemon thyme on my latest trip to the supermarket. Not the rarest of herbs, granted, but a nice change from the usual suspects.

So dinner this evening was free-range organic turkey roasted with lemon thyme, garlic and lemon. There is something about the taste of lemon and garlic with poultry which is so comforting. I once had the misfortune of working with someone (who will remain nameless), who delivered to me an astonishing diatribe about the over-use of lemon in cookery, and particularly with chicken. 'Lemon is for putting in gin and tonic, and nothing else' was his insightful offering. It is worth noting that this individual had the esteemed title of 'Creative Director' and professed to have a love of food. What a creative attitude indeed.

My need for solace found me reaching for the enormous bulb of fennel which was languishing in the vegetable drawer of the fridge. To me, there are fewer foods which offer the essential comfort factor I was seeking this evening. Gently baked until tender and sweet, this delicately scented bulb is my nursery food.

Simply cut into wedges before being laid in an oven proof dish and drizzled with olive oil, a splash of sherry vinegar and and sprinkle of Maldon sea salt, it also ticked the fuss-free box. After half an hour in a 180 degree oven, I spooned over the top tomatoes which had been cut into chunks and scattered with oregano before the obligitory slug of olive oil, sprinkle of salt and a stir. Back into the oven for 5 minutes or so, and it was ready.

Delicious, comforting, homely food. My spirits are restored.

A FRUITFUL GIFT

2008-04-28T12:27:00.007+01:00

Thank you to Alex and Rowan who gave me this tiny little tomato plant which they cultivated from seed. I have been entrusted with it's growth in the hope that it will bear fruit. They have planted a veritable jungle of fruit, vegetables and flowers in their garden, and in my distinct absence of an actual garden it's nice to have a tiny wee pseudo one.

I can not tell you how excited I am at the prospect of eating something I (well, Alex and Rowan really) have grown. You will be noted of any sign of development.

RECOVERY FOOD

2008-04-27T13:59:00.010+01:00

The best thing about going for a nice long run on a Sunday - and in the scorching heat at that (in EDINBURGH!) - is the stuffing of your face afterwards.

Miso, soba noodles, smoked tofu, all the vegetables I could find, red bird's eye chilli and a sprinkling of sushi nori for good measure. A hefty slug of Kikkoman soy sauce and it's all set. Marvellous.

SATURDAY SORBET, CONTENTS LAID BARE AND RECORD BREAKING EXPLOSIONS

2008-04-26T09:31:00.004+01:00

I don't know if it's common for new food bloggers to desperately cram three pretty unrelated stories into one but here we are.

Despite being assured by weather experts that it's a lovely day everywhere in the country, this morning in Edinburgh it's bleak, grey and drizzling. To be honest there's a wee part of me who secretly likes it when it's like this because I can happily potter around in the kitchen for hours without a shred of guilty conscience about missing the sunshine outside (and rest assured this happens quite frequently in Edinburgh). So to compensate for the lack of summer, I decided to create some of my own in the way of a Campari Sorbet from Puddings, Cakes and Ice Creams, a River Cafe Pocket Book by Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers.

After making a sublime Calvados-soaked Raisin ice cream (thank you Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall) by hand at Christmas, I was given an ice cream maker as a gift. It's a cheap and cheerful number which is great for those impulsive moments when only homemade ice cream will do. It doesn't quite take it to the point of frozen enough to scoop, but rather takes it to a point where it resembles softly whipped cream. I'm happy with that though because I have to admit to really quite enjoying the process of making ice creams and sorbets entirely by hand, complete with repetitive trips to the freezer for the obligitory breaking up of ice crystals. It feels more like I made it that way, and adds to the general feel of alchemy which is such an essential part of cooking. Anyway, the point is the ice cream maker comes in particularly useful when making sorbet as it takes it to a lovely slushy point before going in the freezer.

This sorbet would be perfect as a palate cleanser after a heavy meal, or as a refreshing respite on a hot summer's day. If like me, you love the bitterness of Campari and the cold iciness of sorbet, you'll love this.

CAMPARI SORBET from Puddings, Cakes and Ice Creams by Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers
Serves 10

200ml Campari
1 litre grapefruit juice
400g caster sugar
juice of 2 lemons
juice of 2 oranges

Whisk together the grapefruit juice and sugar. Add the Campari and the lemon and orange juice.

Pour into an ice-cream maker and churn until frozen, or freeze in a suitable container.

It would appear to be de rigueur amongst food bloggers to lay bare the contents of their fridges. It is comforting to know that I am not alone in my fascination of what other people eat. I have to confess to having a surreptitious nosey in friends fridges when I am visiting. Well, not always so surreptitious to be honest but to be fair they tend to just let me get on with it. I think this must be the food-lovers equivalent of looking in peoples medicine cabinets.

So here goes:

From the top:

jar tahini
jar kalamata olives (in olive oil)
jar cornichons
Cauldron organic beech smoked tofu
undyed smoked haddock
tupperware full of ground coffee
fresh parmesan (what's left of it)
organic free range eggs
Total Greek yoghurt (mmmmm)
pot of Activia youghurt with prunes
President unsalted butter
2 cans of Red Bull
goose fat
free range turkey breast steaks
Italian sausages
bottle Sauternes
bottle Tokaji Aszu (best dessert wine ever mmmmm)
purple sprouting broccoli
gnocchi
chestnut mushrooms
blueberries
lychees
asparagus
raw beetroot
tomatoes on the vine
2 cucumbers
radishes
fresh oregano
fresh lemon thyme
large fennel
little gem lettuce
3 courgettes
birds eye chillies
balloon shallots
red onions
shed loads of garlic
fresh ginger
tube of tomato puree
assorted nail varnish (keeps them nice and runny)
jar Bonne Maman blueberry preserve
jar green fig conserve
jar rhubarb and ginger conserve
Marmite with Guinness (love it)
illy ground decaf coffee
coconut block
jar beetroot and horseradish relish
jar red harissa (mmm)
jar Maille Dijon mustard
jar capers
jar jalapenos
jar lime pickle
HP sauce (of course)
Heinz tomato ketchup
bottle organic ginger cordial
bottle S.Pellegrino
organic milk (semi-skimmed)

Crikey.

Incidentally, I love a good sticky beak in other peoples trolleys too. I especially have a morbid fascination with the trolley of the exasperated woman with three screaming children and a trolley full of biscuits, frozen Findus Crispy Pancakes and the obligitory 8 litre bottles of brightly coloured fizzy pop.

And speaking of fizzy pop, I saw these pictures in yesterday's press of 1,500 students in Belgium simultaneously dropping Mentos into bottles of Coke, creating so called 'Mentos Fountains'.

Who knew?

DON'T TRY THIS AT HOME

2008-04-26T09:24:00.002+01:00

Bit of an ominous start to a so-called food blog, but not to worry. I love to cook. I cook A LOT. And I bake too. So when my friend had her Mum to stay (the lovely Sue) and had us all round for dinner I suggested I'd make dessert. I'd been eyeing up a chocolate-tart-topped-with-soft-meringue recipe in Sainsburys Magazine (bored, in a queue at the till, you pick it up to pass the time and before you know it you've bought it) and decided this would be the perfect excuse.

4 hours, 5 packets of shortbread, 900g of 80% cocoa solids chocolate and what felt like several gallons of cream later, I managed to create said chocolate-tart-topped-with-soft-meringue. No thanks to the recipe. Rather than bore you with the many reasons why this has now become my Chocolate-Tart-Topped-With-Soft-Meringue Nightmare Story, I'll say this - to the nice lady who wrote the recipe: I don't believe that you wrote this and tested your methodology...

Lesson learned from this episode: always follow your instincts. You're usually right (honest). It was pretty tasty though.