A lot of mint to use up? Here we get Thai peppermint from a Turkish supermarket in ridiculous bags, and it almost always goes bad before you can use it all. Of course this would be better with English mint straight from the garden...
Pound a big handful of mint leaves into a dark green blob in a pestle. Roast a smaller handful of hazelnuts until very dark, then rub off their skins and bash them into the mix. A pinch of salt, a few grinds of pepper, a few spoons of parmiggiano and enough sunflower oil and olive oil (I used half of each) to make it loose enough for pasta, and there you go! I also discovered it's useful not to drain the pasta very thoroughly, so there's still some cooking water in the pasta and the pesto coats the spaggheti better.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Great salad! dark green, fresh and zingy
(for 2)
Grate a courgette coarsely.
Mix up with a generous handful of rocket, and a teaspoon of poppy seeds.
Whisk a teaspoon of honey with the juice of a lime, a couple of slugs of olive oil, and, if you have it, a dribble of pumpkin seed oil (adds to the deep green-ness).
Pour the dressing over the salad, and enjoy with bread and cheese, or perhaps a fat steak.
Grate a courgette coarsely.
Mix up with a generous handful of rocket, and a teaspoon of poppy seeds.
Whisk a teaspoon of honey with the juice of a lime, a couple of slugs of olive oil, and, if you have it, a dribble of pumpkin seed oil (adds to the deep green-ness).
Pour the dressing over the salad, and enjoy with bread and cheese, or perhaps a fat steak.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Maize and pumpkin seed sourdough
There were far too many dairy products in the fridge last weekend, so the loaves I made had to have some kind of white stuff in them. As well as a dense wholemeal-bran tin loaf sweetened and darkened with crystalised ginger and molasses, I made this one: a light but slightly grainy texture, with lovely colours - the light, bright yellow of the maize flour and the dark green of the pumpkin seeds was a great combination. The turkish 9% fat yoghurt that went in gave the bread a nice, mellow flavour, I think.
Wet ingredients:
150g turkish or greek style yoghurt
110g water
110g white leaven
10g punpkin seed oil (or similar nutty-flavoured oil)
Dry ingredients:
275g white flour
25g wholemeal flour
100g yellow maize flour
1tsp salt
90g pumpkin seeds (with the green skin still on)
Mix the wet stuff and the dry stuff seperately, then tip the wet into the dry and mix thoroughly. We don't want any dry flour left. Cover the bowl and leave for 10 minutes.
Lightly oil the table-top and your hands. Knead the dough briefly (10 seconds/10 hand-strokes). Return to the bowl, cover and leave for 10 minutes.
Repeat kneading. Leave for 10 minutes.
Knead once more. Leave for half an hour.
'Fold' the dough: pat it out flat on the table, stretch it a little in one direction, then fold it over itself in thirds in the same direction. Turn it 90° and stretch and fold again. Shape into a ball and put it back in the bowl. Leave for half an hour.
Fold again. Leave for half an hour.
Shape into a batard or a round loaf, tucking the dough in on itself so the outer surface stretches and becomes slightly taut (the way to a crisp crust and a good rise in the oven). Wrap in a flour-dusted linen cloth, and leave for 4-5 hours.
Turn out onto a baking paper-covered baking sheet, and bake at 230°C for 20 minutes, then at 210°C for 20-25 minutes. The crust should be golden and the loaf hollow-sounding when tapped on the base.
Go on, get hold of some leaven. I'm sure you could nick some from a good bakery, and it is so worth it.
Wet ingredients:
150g turkish or greek style yoghurt
110g water
110g white leaven
10g punpkin seed oil (or similar nutty-flavoured oil)
Dry ingredients:
275g white flour
25g wholemeal flour
100g yellow maize flour
1tsp salt
90g pumpkin seeds (with the green skin still on)
Mix the wet stuff and the dry stuff seperately, then tip the wet into the dry and mix thoroughly. We don't want any dry flour left. Cover the bowl and leave for 10 minutes.
Lightly oil the table-top and your hands. Knead the dough briefly (10 seconds/10 hand-strokes). Return to the bowl, cover and leave for 10 minutes.
Repeat kneading. Leave for 10 minutes.
Knead once more. Leave for half an hour.
'Fold' the dough: pat it out flat on the table, stretch it a little in one direction, then fold it over itself in thirds in the same direction. Turn it 90° and stretch and fold again. Shape into a ball and put it back in the bowl. Leave for half an hour.
Fold again. Leave for half an hour.
Shape into a batard or a round loaf, tucking the dough in on itself so the outer surface stretches and becomes slightly taut (the way to a crisp crust and a good rise in the oven). Wrap in a flour-dusted linen cloth, and leave for 4-5 hours.
Turn out onto a baking paper-covered baking sheet, and bake at 230°C for 20 minutes, then at 210°C for 20-25 minutes. The crust should be golden and the loaf hollow-sounding when tapped on the base.
Go on, get hold of some leaven. I'm sure you could nick some from a good bakery, and it is so worth it.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Stealing from friends and fruity tarts
I've been doing quite lot of eating recently and really trying to eat what's in season. So: I found some Seville oranges in a local grocerand made a really tangy tart. Bake blind a sweet shortcrust pastry case (I add a tablespoon of caster sugar to the usual flour and butter, and bind with a beaten egg). Whisk 2 eggs with 2 egg yolks and add to 7 fl ozcream and 7fl oz milk, 2 tablespoons sugar. Add juice and zest of 2 Seville oranges and 1 lemon. Pour into the pastry case and cook atabout 350 for 40minutes;best if it's slightly under done and a bit wobbly when it comes out of the oven. Good eaten warm with a generous dollop of creme fraiche. Tamsin Day Lewis also has a good and slightly different recipe in 'The Art of the Tart'- check it out.
Another tart made for parents in law for a weekend lunch: lovely old fashioned custard tart. Pastry case as above. Whisk together same quantities of eggs, sugar, milk and cream. Pour into case and top with a sprinkle of nutmeg.Bake 350 40 minutes. I served this with some beautiful pink early rhubarb cooked with thejuice and zest of an orange (and cream of course).
A great salad I pinched off Sally Morris (who must be one of the best cooks in the Cotswolds...): leaves of your choice tossed lightly with an oil and lemon dressing; top with sliced pear (doesn't matter too much if a bit crunchy), blue cheese and toasted pecans. Totally delicious and so simple.
Another tart made for parents in law for a weekend lunch: lovely old fashioned custard tart. Pastry case as above. Whisk together same quantities of eggs, sugar, milk and cream. Pour into case and top with a sprinkle of nutmeg.Bake 350 40 minutes. I served this with some beautiful pink early rhubarb cooked with thejuice and zest of an orange (and cream of course).
A great salad I pinched off Sally Morris (who must be one of the best cooks in the Cotswolds...): leaves of your choice tossed lightly with an oil and lemon dressing; top with sliced pear (doesn't matter too much if a bit crunchy), blue cheese and toasted pecans. Totally delicious and so simple.
The return of the Salsify blogthread
I was sitting in the kitchen in Cold Aston having a coffee when I thought "I know what, I'll find out how to cook salsify".
I am probably breaking the rules of the international taste society by posting a recipie that I haven't actually cooked yet, but perhaps Matt could give the following a try and let us know what he thinks.
I was somewhat disappointed to find that Alan Davidson has nothing on this unusual root vegetable, but Jane Grigson came to the rescue.
Her "Vegetable Book" gives 11recipies for Salisify and its close Italian cousin, Scorzonera. The simplest is "salsify salad".
Top and tail the roots , then rub under the cold tap and scrub away any soil with a small scrubbing brush.
Cook whole in salted water for half an hour so that they are tender, but not mushy.
Run the cooked salsify under a cold tap so that you can peel the skin off without burning your fingers
(Note that some cooks peel the salsify before cooking, but Grigson claims that to cook then skin-on helps to retain the flavour).
Whilst still warm, peel the root and cut into 3cm pieces. Put them in a good oil vinaigrette with plenty of chopped parsley and chives or spring onion.
Leave to cool before serving.
I would serve the salsify salad with some cold meats, but a vegetarian might prefer to mix the root into a larger salad with some cooked potato, artichoke hearts, chopped parsley and a couple of hard-boiled eggs (Salade Montermeil").
I am probably breaking the rules of the international taste society by posting a recipie that I haven't actually cooked yet, but perhaps Matt could give the following a try and let us know what he thinks.
I was somewhat disappointed to find that Alan Davidson has nothing on this unusual root vegetable, but Jane Grigson came to the rescue.
Her "Vegetable Book" gives 11recipies for Salisify and its close Italian cousin, Scorzonera. The simplest is "salsify salad".
Top and tail the roots , then rub under the cold tap and scrub away any soil with a small scrubbing brush.
Cook whole in salted water for half an hour so that they are tender, but not mushy.
Run the cooked salsify under a cold tap so that you can peel the skin off without burning your fingers
(Note that some cooks peel the salsify before cooking, but Grigson claims that to cook then skin-on helps to retain the flavour).
Whilst still warm, peel the root and cut into 3cm pieces. Put them in a good oil vinaigrette with plenty of chopped parsley and chives or spring onion.
Leave to cool before serving.
I would serve the salsify salad with some cold meats, but a vegetarian might prefer to mix the root into a larger salad with some cooked potato, artichoke hearts, chopped parsley and a couple of hard-boiled eggs (Salade Montermeil").
Monday, February 28, 2011
Zürich, 28/2/2011: Pumpkin and sage risotto
This turned out to be pretty minimalist, but fantastic. I think because Anouk cooked the rice to perfection - still slightly gritty in the middle of the grain - it didn't fulfil its potential to turn into bland mush. Instead, the pumpkin and sage balanced each other very nicely and it was great!
So: dice pumpkin and roast until soft and starting to crisp at the corners; fry onion in lots of butter until translucent; add garlic together with the risotto rice (we have ribe in our cupboard) and fry until rice starts to change colour; add a slug or two of vin santo (because we had no white wine); once that's absorbed, do the usual risotto thang with stock; shortly before the rice is done, stir in the pumkpin, a hefty handful of finely chopped fresh sage, and a couple of spoons of parmesan.
If you are in Zurich, where you can get loads of fantastic cress at the market, you could, as we did, do a salad of watercress and fairly finely chopped iceberg, with a mustardy-balsamicy dressing and a halved boiled egg. Mmm.
M
So: dice pumpkin and roast until soft and starting to crisp at the corners; fry onion in lots of butter until translucent; add garlic together with the risotto rice (we have ribe in our cupboard) and fry until rice starts to change colour; add a slug or two of vin santo (because we had no white wine); once that's absorbed, do the usual risotto thang with stock; shortly before the rice is done, stir in the pumkpin, a hefty handful of finely chopped fresh sage, and a couple of spoons of parmesan.
If you are in Zurich, where you can get loads of fantastic cress at the market, you could, as we did, do a salad of watercress and fairly finely chopped iceberg, with a mustardy-balsamicy dressing and a halved boiled egg. Mmm.
M
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Supper for one on a cold winter's night
I woke up this morning wondering what I could make for a cold winter's night in. Something to have in a bowl, and eat with a spoon in front of some not-too-demanding telly.
I had some dried Great Northern Beans in the cupboard, some onions in the fridge, some left over white wine and a few sage leaves. Time for something Italian.
I bought some sweet italian sausages from a very good butcher down the road and some romaine hearts for a crispy side salad.
Soak the beans overnight (some beans can be soaked in hot water for a shorter period, which is what what I did - check the packet).
Go for a good cycle ride to work up the appetite.
Boil the beans until tender. Put to one side
Cook the onions until they are very soft (I like to add a small splash of wine at this point, but I'm not sure why). Add the crumbled sausage and some crushed garlic, cook for another ten minutes
Add the beans, chopped sage and a splash of white wine (a large splash this time).
Add salt and pepper and cook until the beans have started to go mushy (about 30 minutes at a low-medium heat). If the mix goes dry, add another splash of wine.
Serve the salad with a lemon and olive oil dressing.
This was my first attempt at this dish. With hindsight I should have boiled the beans for a bit longer to make them mushier.
I forgot to say that I had the above with a baked potato - it is winter after all.
I had some dried Great Northern Beans in the cupboard, some onions in the fridge, some left over white wine and a few sage leaves. Time for something Italian.
I bought some sweet italian sausages from a very good butcher down the road and some romaine hearts for a crispy side salad.
Soak the beans overnight (some beans can be soaked in hot water for a shorter period, which is what what I did - check the packet).
Go for a good cycle ride to work up the appetite.
Boil the beans until tender. Put to one side
Cook the onions until they are very soft (I like to add a small splash of wine at this point, but I'm not sure why). Add the crumbled sausage and some crushed garlic, cook for another ten minutes
Add the beans, chopped sage and a splash of white wine (a large splash this time).
Add salt and pepper and cook until the beans have started to go mushy (about 30 minutes at a low-medium heat). If the mix goes dry, add another splash of wine.
Serve the salad with a lemon and olive oil dressing.
This was my first attempt at this dish. With hindsight I should have boiled the beans for a bit longer to make them mushier.
I forgot to say that I had the above with a baked potato - it is winter after all.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Back to Delia....Cold Aston 17/02/11
Had some girl friends for supper on Thursday so of course turned to Delia for inspiration: Chicken Basque hit the spot - lovely fragrant mixture of chicken, brown rice, paprika (smoked kind is my preference), garlic, chorizo, red peppers, wine, stock and sundried tomatoes, all cooked slowly in one pot. Perfect and a real blast from the past; well, the early 90s when we all cooked this all of the time!
Friday, February 18, 2011
Zürich, 18/2/11: Aromatic (no, really) saffron rice bread
This is the bread of the moment. It is soft but resilient, with a saffron flavour that isn't too overpowering but can stand up to stronger flavours (cheese, jam, home made chocolate spread etc.). It's also beautifully easy to make (come on you reluctant home bakers), and a good excuse to cook too much rice.
It came about after a 'cuurrey noight' for which I made a load of saffron basmati rice (important to soak the saffron for a good 20 minutes before adding to the rice cooking water). The next day, we needed some bread for a last-minute soup, bread and cheese supper, and I stuck with the theme, using the great saffron I got for Christmas (thanks, Mum).
This recipe is adapted from Dan Lepard's rice bread in The Handmade Loaf:
WET:
10 strands saffron, soaked for 20 mins in 25g hot water
125g milk (from the fridge)
40g honey
1 tsp fresh yeast
150g left over saffron rice
DRY:
250g strong white flour
1 tsp fine sea salt
Whisk the wet ingredients together in a big bowl, making sure the yeast dissolves.
Add the flour and salt, and mix well. Leave it resting, covered with a cloth, for 10 mins.
Lightly oil the table and your hands, and knead briefly (about 10 thrusts). Return to the bowl and cover. Leave for 10 mins.
Knead briefly again, return to the bowl, then leave to rise in a warm place (simply on the kitchen table is the kitchen isn't cold) for 1 hour.
Grease a loaf tin. Lightly flour the tabletop, put the dough on it and knock a bit of gas out with your fist. Shape into a batard (follow link and watch video 4) and drop, seam side down, into the tin. Cover and leave for another hour to prove.
Make a perdendicular cut (about 2cm deep) down the middle of the loaf, bake for 15 mins at 220°C, then for 25 mins at 190°C, and watch it bloom.
It came about after a 'cuurrey noight' for which I made a load of saffron basmati rice (important to soak the saffron for a good 20 minutes before adding to the rice cooking water). The next day, we needed some bread for a last-minute soup, bread and cheese supper, and I stuck with the theme, using the great saffron I got for Christmas (thanks, Mum).
This recipe is adapted from Dan Lepard's rice bread in The Handmade Loaf:
WET:
10 strands saffron, soaked for 20 mins in 25g hot water
125g milk (from the fridge)
40g honey
1 tsp fresh yeast
150g left over saffron rice
DRY:
250g strong white flour
1 tsp fine sea salt
Whisk the wet ingredients together in a big bowl, making sure the yeast dissolves.
Add the flour and salt, and mix well. Leave it resting, covered with a cloth, for 10 mins.
Lightly oil the table and your hands, and knead briefly (about 10 thrusts). Return to the bowl and cover. Leave for 10 mins.
Knead briefly again, return to the bowl, then leave to rise in a warm place (simply on the kitchen table is the kitchen isn't cold) for 1 hour.
Grease a loaf tin. Lightly flour the tabletop, put the dough on it and knock a bit of gas out with your fist. Shape into a batard (follow link and watch video 4) and drop, seam side down, into the tin. Cover and leave for another hour to prove.
Make a perdendicular cut (about 2cm deep) down the middle of the loaf, bake for 15 mins at 220°C, then for 25 mins at 190°C, and watch it bloom.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Zürich, 27/1/2011: Home made nutella
This turned out to be completely different, but in some ways, better than the real thing...
On Sundays, for brunch, it's a bit of a Swiss tradition to eat zopf, which is a braid of white bread made with milk and plenty of melted butter instead of water. There's even a business in Zürich made up of people who bake a load of zopfs, in the own kitchens, which are then delivered early on Sunday mornings into people's post boxes.
I made one last Saturday (not for this business), and was on the verge of buying some nutella, when it struck me it's chocolate and hazelnut spread - Anouk's allergic to hazelnuts, so I decided it was the perfect excuse to try to concoct something. Last weekend's attempt was OK, but the mix had a burnt taste (from the nuts I toasted for too long) and went too hard to be spreadable.
Today I toasted almonds and peanuts, then processed them in the liquidiser for about 15mins. It takes this long for the oil to be released from the nuts and for it to become a sticky mass, edging towards a peanut butter-like state. Actually, I had to add a slug of sunflower oil to get it oily enough to be sure the spread wouldn't go too hard. I chucked in some allspice and a pinch of salt, too. Then I melted dark chocolate with some golden syrup and milk, mixed the nuttiness in and put it in an old jam jar in the cupboard. It is lush, and I can't wait to get it on some buttery toast.
Quantities approximately:
40g almonds
40g peanuts
1 tbsp sunflower oil
1/2 tsp allspice (optional - I can't really taste it in the spread)
pinch of salt
80g dark chocolate
2 tsp golden syrup
1 tbsp milk
On Sundays, for brunch, it's a bit of a Swiss tradition to eat zopf, which is a braid of white bread made with milk and plenty of melted butter instead of water. There's even a business in Zürich made up of people who bake a load of zopfs, in the own kitchens, which are then delivered early on Sunday mornings into people's post boxes.
I made one last Saturday (not for this business), and was on the verge of buying some nutella, when it struck me it's chocolate and hazelnut spread - Anouk's allergic to hazelnuts, so I decided it was the perfect excuse to try to concoct something. Last weekend's attempt was OK, but the mix had a burnt taste (from the nuts I toasted for too long) and went too hard to be spreadable.
Today I toasted almonds and peanuts, then processed them in the liquidiser for about 15mins. It takes this long for the oil to be released from the nuts and for it to become a sticky mass, edging towards a peanut butter-like state. Actually, I had to add a slug of sunflower oil to get it oily enough to be sure the spread wouldn't go too hard. I chucked in some allspice and a pinch of salt, too. Then I melted dark chocolate with some golden syrup and milk, mixed the nuttiness in and put it in an old jam jar in the cupboard. It is lush, and I can't wait to get it on some buttery toast.
Quantities approximately:
40g almonds
40g peanuts
1 tbsp sunflower oil
1/2 tsp allspice (optional - I can't really taste it in the spread)
pinch of salt
80g dark chocolate
2 tsp golden syrup
1 tbsp milk
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Zürich, 11/1/11: Fennel, potato and Vacherin tart
A good, filling tart, this. I was inspired at the market, as I often am, this time when I visited the Italian van which stocks lots of goodies like Parma ham, parmesan, finnochiona, poncey balsamic vinegar and the like, as well as some French and Swiss cheeses.
So I bought some deliciously creamy (I think I could even say unctious) Brie de Meaux and then clapped my eyes on the black ash rind of the cheese that ended up in this tart, because Anouk and I couldn't physically eat it unless it was cooked. Afer tasting a morsel of it, I had to buy some, but I knew I would probably end up turning it into a tart, so I bought some fennel, too. The shallots just happened to be in the cupboard at home - onions would be fine, I reckon. The cheese isn't actually Vacherin, but I can't remember its name and I think a Vacherin on the turn would be a great equivalent.
I made a basic shortcrust, just flour, butter and water, and baked it blind while sorting out the filling - boiled some chunkily sliced waxy potatoes and fried a couple of shallots with a touch of nutmeg and a pinch of aniseed before adding two bulbs of fennel, thickly sliced. They need to sauté gently for a while, in plenty of butter. Then I whisked up two eggs, one egg yolk, 250ml sour cream and some black pepper, diced about 100g of the crazy cheese and stirred it into the mix with the fennel. I arranged the spuds in the base nicely, poured the rest in, chucked a few more dice of cheese on top and baked for 40 mins at 180 C.
It was pretty good. :)
By the way, have the rest of you not actually eaten anything in the past week?
M
So I bought some deliciously creamy (I think I could even say unctious) Brie de Meaux and then clapped my eyes on the black ash rind of the cheese that ended up in this tart, because Anouk and I couldn't physically eat it unless it was cooked. Afer tasting a morsel of it, I had to buy some, but I knew I would probably end up turning it into a tart, so I bought some fennel, too. The shallots just happened to be in the cupboard at home - onions would be fine, I reckon. The cheese isn't actually Vacherin, but I can't remember its name and I think a Vacherin on the turn would be a great equivalent.
I made a basic shortcrust, just flour, butter and water, and baked it blind while sorting out the filling - boiled some chunkily sliced waxy potatoes and fried a couple of shallots with a touch of nutmeg and a pinch of aniseed before adding two bulbs of fennel, thickly sliced. They need to sauté gently for a while, in plenty of butter. Then I whisked up two eggs, one egg yolk, 250ml sour cream and some black pepper, diced about 100g of the crazy cheese and stirred it into the mix with the fennel. I arranged the spuds in the base nicely, poured the rest in, chucked a few more dice of cheese on top and baked for 40 mins at 180 C.
It was pretty good. :)
By the way, have the rest of you not actually eaten anything in the past week?
M
Saturday, January 8, 2011
salsify...
I bought some salsify at the market yesterday, enchanted by the sootiness of its black skin (it is a pure white inside, though), and I have no idea what to do with it. Has anybody cooked with salsify before?
Matt
Matt
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Birthday supper
Helen caramelised 6 onions for two and a half hours: we all know that you can't hurry onions. Gosh, it was worth it. Lovely and sweet in a tart with goatscheese and flaky pastry. Actually, we just copied the fabulous tart made by Alison (Queen of Tarts!) on Boxing Day - thanks, Alison.
I'm planning the Embassy Book Club supper I'm hosting next Tuesday - it's a toss up between the Swedish lamb pie recipe I found in The Times at Heathrow yesterday and turkey and white bean chili. Can't be red meat and needs to feed a crowd. Any ideas?
I'm planning the Embassy Book Club supper I'm hosting next Tuesday - it's a toss up between the Swedish lamb pie recipe I found in The Times at Heathrow yesterday and turkey and white bean chili. Can't be red meat and needs to feed a crowd. Any ideas?
Sunday, January 2, 2011
2/1/2011, Cold Aston: roast butternut squash and red onion with couscous
Ems roasts the squaash and onion in the aga, and makes the couscous with olive oil, stock, lemon juice and a sprinkle of chilli powder for a little kick. yum.
Meanwhile, Alison and Coco nibble Matt's sourdough and follow it with Clare's apple crumble (interestingly made without cooking the apples first).
YUM!
Meanwhile, Alison and Coco nibble Matt's sourdough and follow it with Clare's apple crumble (interestingly made without cooking the apples first).
YUM!
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