kitchen

dumplings - little pillows of happiness

2012-01-28T12:56:00.002Z

Wherever you've lived, visited, even fantasised over, there'll always be one or two resounding features in your memory bank that can take you back there in a nano second. For me it's the East and the dumpling. I've eaten not nearly enough in my life, served up just as many again, and dreamt of a disturbing figure in between the two.

I'm not going to profess to having an ultimate recipe for any dumpling either, I know way too many people who can wipe the floor with me there, and there's as many again who are serious food experts who still leave it to a small handful of professionals. But in the odd occasion where you're too far away from that fantasy place and the need is great, this'll do fine.

Dumplings

Makes 100

670g plain flour
330ml cold water
1 bai-cai (Chinese leaf, also called pak choi), very finely chopped, sprinkled with salt, left for 30 mins then squeezed dry
225g extra-lean minced pork, organic or free range
10-12 tiger prawns, peeled and finely chopped
4 spring onions, using both the white and green parts, very finely chopped
15g ginger, peeled and very finely chopped
sunflower oil
2 eggs, beaten
soy sauce
Chinese cooking rice wine
sea salt
sesame oil

Suan zhi (garlic sauce)

5 cloves garlic
Chinese dark rice vinegar
sesame seed oil

Put the flour in a large bowl and drizzle water onto it, mixing the flour. Then use your hands to form a large ball. Leave to rest for 30 mins. For the stuffing add the bai-cai to the pork, prawns, spring onion and ginger. Heat 2 1⁄2 tblsp of oil in a wok and when the oil is smoking add the eggs, moving briskly until they are golden and crispy. Add to the pork mixture with 2 tblsp of soy sauce, 7 tblsp of sunflower oil, 3⁄4 tblsp of rice wine, three pinches of salt and a drizzle of sesame oil.

To make the skins take a handful of dough, make it into a sausage 2.5 cm in diameter and cut into pieces 2.5 cm long. Form each piece into a ball, then flatten, making a disc about 3.5 cm in diameter. Then roll them (all 100) into circular dumpling skins about 7-8 cm in diameter (you can buy these if you must). Put 1 1⁄2 tsp of stuffing mix into the centre of each skin and press the edges together to form a half moon shape with the middle pushed together and the ends open.

Seal the corners by creating little concertina-like folds as you press the edges together: it is crucial they don't open during the cooking process.

To make suan zhi chop the garlic and add to the dark rice vinegar with a drizzle of sesame oil. I also add a tsp of brown sugar, 1 tblsp of soy sauce and 1⁄2 tsp of chilli oil.

To cook the dumplings boil a pan of water and carefully add 20 at a time - they will sink. Using a spoon stir the water (not the dumplings) to create a whirlpool which will encourage the dumplings to float. When they are floating put the lid on and let them cook for 2 minutes. When the water is really boiling add a little cold water and bring it back to the boil. Do this twice more then add a final drop of water. Remove the dumplings with a slotted spoon. Eat with the sauce - pick up your dumplings with chopsticks and bite off the end to let out the steam.

mushrooming about the time of year

2012-01-22T13:01:00.000Z

There isn't much you can do wrong with a mushroom. Some love them (me) some can't get past their apparent sliminess (weirdos) some just go with the flow. As their true wild season comes to a close, one last blast today is in order. Mushrooms on toast for breakfast and a slow braised beef casserole with fat handfuls of every variety I'm able to get my hands on is a fitting Sunday any which way you look at it.

Sunday breakfast has to be where the weekend makes any sense, and filling the house with the smell of sauteed mushrooms, toasted bread and fresh coffee cannot fail to get the day rolling just nicely as in Plan A. Lightly toasted focaccia just because it soaks everything up like the most delicious edible sponge. A pile of evenly sized of the harder mushrooms like pied bleu, hedgehogs and even buttons and chestnuts. Butter, a tiny splash of cream at the end. A fat pinch of really good salt and plenty chopped parsley and black pepper.

Beef will go on shortly and cook throught the day. I'm looking at a fist full of ceps to go with diced shin and a load of garlic, shallots and thyme. A decent bit of red wine in nice and early, maybe spiked with a hit of chilli, and probably farted about with a bit more still. More on all that as soon as I've snoozed off breakfast and pretended to read the Sunday papers.

Croquettes. Oxtail for now but anything will do

2011-12-30T09:30:00.002Z

Post Christmas there's always bits and bobs of leftovers lying around in various pots and bags in the fridge. Once the ubiquitous Boxing day sandwiches have been presented, the curry has been made, the soup and the risotto, there's only so much left to do with all those half portions of random. Kroketten are a traditional Dutch snack food, often served with French fries. This authentic recipe takes some time but the results are far better than anything you can buy ready-made. I'm not for once suggesting many people have a handy little pot of beautifully braised oxtail spare at home, but this as a guide works with almost anything blended through a thick béchamel and deep fried "til perfectly crisp. Happy New Year!

Oxtail Croquettes

Makes 20 pieces

For the stock

900g/2lb oxtail .

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

100g/3½oz butter

2 onions, chopped

2 carrots, chopped

1 tblsp salt

2 bay leaves

Bouquet garni

6 coriander seeds, crushed

1 beef stock cube

For the ragout

6 gelatine leaves

100g/3½oz butter

150g/5½oz plain flour

1 tsp curry powder

few drops Worcestershire sauce

1 litre/1¾ pint beef stock

Oxtail meat, from the stock

For the finishing

4 free-range eggs, beaten

100g golden breadcrumbs

50g plain flour

Vegetable oil, for frying

For the stock, season the oxtail with salt and freshly ground black pepper. Heat the butter in a pan and fry the seasoned oxtail until browned all over.

Add the onions and carrots and continue frying until the onions are softened and beginning to brown.

Add 2.5–3 litres/4½-5¼ pints of cold water, the tablespoon of salt, bay leaves, bouquet garni and, if using, the crushed coriander seeds.

Bring to a boil, then immediately turn down the heat and leave to simmer on the lowest possible setting for a few hours. The longer this cooks, the better it tastes.

Very carefully, sieve the hot stock through a clean tea towel, then transfer the oxtail bones to a plate and leave them to cool. Discard the onion and carrot.

Check the seasoning of the stock and add salt or a beef stock cube if you like. Remove the meat from the bones when they are cool and throw away the fat.

Next, make the ragout. Place the gelatine leaves in a small bowl in a little cold water to soak.

Melt the butter in a saucepan, but don’t let it brown. Add the flour, curry powder and Worcestershire sauce and stir until crumbly.

Start adding the stock a ladleful at a time, stirring vigorously after each addition. At first, the mixture will form a smooth ball, but gradually it will become a thick sauce – the mixture has to be really firm and thick to make the kroketten.

Add the meat and stir into the sauce then squeeze out the gelatine leaves and mix them thoroughly into the ragout.

Season the ragout to taste with more salt, freshly ground black pepper, Worcestershire sauce or curry powder.

Leave the mixture to cool in the fridge until it is really cold. Put the beaten eggs in a low, wide bowl and the breadcrumbs and flour in separate bowls alongside. Take a spoonful of ragout and roll it in your hands into a sausage shape.

Roll this in the flour, then the egg and lastly the breadcrumbs, making sure the kroketten are well covered all over.

Continue until all the mixture is used up, then roll the kroketten in egg and breadcrumbs once again.

Heat the oil in a deep-fat fryer or large saucepan to 180°C/350°F, or until a cube of bread turns golden-brown and crisp when dropped in.

Fry the kroketten, a few at a time, until deep golden-brown. If they start to sizzle, take them out of the pan, as this is a signal that the filling is starting to leak. (CAUTION: hot oil can be dangerous. Do not leave unattended.)

Serve immediately, but take care – they will be very hot...

Scallops and sprouts

2011-12-23T12:34:00.002Z

As its pretty much Christmas and if you haven't yet, better get the sprouts in before the annual panic buying frenzy strips the shelves. Sprouts aren't just for the turkey, I hope we can all agree on that. This is simply a perfect little canape idea for your Christmas eve...

Scallop and Brussels sprouts with Jalapeño salsa

Serves 4

4 large scallops

Sea salt

20 Brussels sprouts

1 tblsp plus 1 tsp grapeseed oil

2 tsp clarified butter

Beetroot strips for garnish

Jalapeño salsa

1 red onion

A few coriander leaves

½ jalapeño chilli

1 tblsp Jalapeño dressing

Start preparing the jalapeño salsa: finely chop the red onion, coriander, and jalapeño. Place all of these in a bowl.

Salt the scallops. Peel away the individual leaves of the sprouts.

Put a small frying pan over a medium heat and add a little grapeseed oil to it. Sauté the scallop in it until very lightly browned on both sides.

At the same time place another larger frying pan over a medium heat and add some oil to that. Salt the sprout leaves and quickly and lightly sauté them. They should remain slightly crunchy. Finally add the clarified butter to the sprout leaves and quickly heat through.

Place the scallop in the middle of the plate and pile the sprout leaves around the scallop.

Finish the jalapeño salsa by adding the jalapeño dressing to the red onion, coriander and jalapeño, and blend swiftly together. Top the scallop with the jalapeño salsa. Garnish with a little beetroot.

Aim to sauté the scallop so it is lightly browned on the outside, but still medium-rare on the side.

The jalapeño salsa ingredients should be mixed with their dressing just before serving, to best enjoy its flavour and piquancy.

Meatloaf is the new foie

2011-11-16T08:30:00.001Z

No really, it is... Have a bash at this now it's freezing cold outside, you really ought to trust me. Quite a lengthy ingredients list, but there's nothing over the top and about half should be store cupboard staples anyway. Bit of mash, braised red cabbage and a splash of gravy and all is good with the world again.

Meatloaf

Serves 4-6

50g butter
1 large onion, finely chopped
4 celery stalks, finely sliced
1 green pepper, finely chopped
4 spring onions, sliced
2 garlic cloves, peeled and chopped
1 tblsp chopped fresh parsley
1 tblsp chilli sauce
1 tblsp Worcestershire sauce
2 bay leaves
125ml evaporated milk
125ml tomato ketchup
750g minced beef
250g minced pork or sausage meat
2 free-range eggs, lightly beaten
250g breadcrumbs
Freshly ground salt and pepper

Melt the butter in a large saucepan and add the onion, celery, pepper, spring onions, garlic, parsley, chilli sauce, Worcestershire sauce and bay leaves. Cook over a gentle heat, stirring occasionally, for about 6 minutes.

Add the evaporated milk and ketchup and continue to cook for a further 2 minutes. Remove from the heat and allow to cool. Discard the bay leaves.

Preheat the oven to 180C/Gas 4.

Place the beef and pork in a large bowl; add the eggs, breadcrumbs and vegetable mixture, and season. Place the mixture in an ungreased roasting dish and bake for 25 minutes. Raise the temperature to 200C/Gas 6 and bake
for a further 35-40 minutes.

Serve from the roasting dish

Wagyu weekend treat

2011-09-18T13:40:00.000+01:00

It's the day of rest, and no better time for a deserved weekend treat this evening. Don't hold back on ordering the roast chicken, or pork even, but save any beef urges for later tonight, I certainly will be. This is utterly Cantonese in its inspiration, fun and fresh. Steam a bit of rice, and some greens, then whack this together in your wok. Perfectly comfortable and of course you don't need to go the whole wagyu hog, but it isn't really a treat if you don't.

Pan-fried diced wagyu beef in teriyaki sauce

Serves 4

600g wagyu beef (cut into dice)

12 stalks of fresh asparagus (peeled and trimmed) cut into 4cm lengths

2 tblsp teriyaki sauce

½ tsp cornstarch, dissolved in a tblsp water

300ml chicken stock

Heat a splash of vegetable oil in a wok and sauté the asparagus for a few seconds,remove with a wire mesh skimmer and drain well

Heat the wok with water, when boiling blanch the asparagus again for afew seconds (remove excess oil) drain well, clean the wok and pour the chickenstock to cook the asparagus for a further 3 minutes. Remove from wok and place on a plate.

Reheat the wok with another splodge of vegetable oil, just enough to coat the surface,place the diced beef in the wok and fry hard until golden brown all over, remove from wok and place on plate.

Pour teriyaki sauce into the wok, add chicken stock and seasoning when boiling, adjust the fire and stir in the dissolved cornstarch to thicken the sauce thenspoon over the beef and asparagus and serve.

There's nothing much better than a Mackerel sky

2011-09-06T12:15:00.000+01:00

Generally speaking, I'm a massive fan of mackerel on a barbecue in the summer, slathered with a fist of lemon juice and a heavy hand with the seasoning including a smatter of chopped green chilli. Although becoming (already become) quite the fashionable fish, it's still relatively cheap and very available while being very good for you in an oily fish kind of a way. Barbecuing aside, there's a ton of recipes out there for the mackerel, the only thing I'd say is catch it (or buy it) and cook as quick as you can, it does have a tendency not to stay at it's best for too long.

Here's a thing for you, a mackerel sky is one of those views as you look up at a seemingly endless sea of extensive clouds that look like fish scales on a bright day. Clouds that are small and white, and usually line themselves up in groups in a regular pattern are something we might not see again for a while now summer is as good as officially over...

Back in the kitchen though, autumn flavours are starting, and a most welcome change in tempo indeed. This is a terrific one oven tray dinner, but for a great finish to the mackerel, run a blowtorch over the fish to blacken and blister the skin just before serving. This gives it a certain smokiness, really brings out a new dimension to the flavour and makes a massive difference.

Mackerel with new potatoes and bay leaves

Serves 3-6

1kg new potatoes, scrubbed, the bigger ones halved
2 red onions, halved and sliced
12 bay leaves
6 garlic cloves, unpeeled but bashed to break the skins
2 lemons, halved and thickly sliced
3-4 tblsp olive oil
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
30g butter
6 mackerel fillets
Lemon wedges, to serve

Heat the oven to 180°C/350°F/gas mark 4. Scatter the potatoes in a roasting tin with the onions, bay leaves, garlic, lemon slices and olive oil. Season well; toss everything to combine, then dot the top with the butter.

Roast in the oven until the potatoes are browning and tender, rattling the tin once or twice – about 30-40 minutes.

Carefully take the tin out of the oven. Season the mackerel fillets and lay them skin-side up on top of the potatoes.

Return to the oven and roast for a further six to 10 minutes, depending on the thickness of the fillets, until the mackerel is just opaque. Serve with some lemon wedges and an interesting salad - the fish can take bold flavours so don't be afraid to throw a few capers, maybe some chilli or some pomegranate into a bit of extra dressing here.

Don't forget me. Love, Sir Loin

2011-08-31T12:11:00.002+01:00

Have we fallen out of love with the once grand sirloin of beef then? I truly do hope we haven't. It's still a decent piece of meat I get great enjoyment from, and continue to be able to use it in all manner of preparations - from dicing it for burritos to the perfect steak sandwich meat. I cooked a decent piece for lunch yesterday, in the fashion below, and was really most pleasantly happy with the outcome indeed. This would be great with a lovely creamy purée of parsnips or some braised silver beets or Swiss chard, but yesterday I slow roasted some split unpeeled shallots in the beef juices, garlic and thyme, and plopped it on a cauliflower purée.

The perfect amount left over for some cold roast beef sandwiches for lunch today. Watercress, English mustard and a scraping of mayonnaise on white bread. Leftovers are King. Sir Loin rocks.

Sirloin pot-roasted with bay, garlic and red wine vinegar

Serves 4-6

1 kg whole sirloin of beef
salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 tblsp olive oil, for browning
55g butter
10 fresh bay leaves
4 garlic cloves, peeled and halved
375 ml Cabernet Sauvignon vinegar

Trim the fat on the piece of beef to about 2cm thick. Using a sharp knife, cut a criss-cross pattern at 1cm intervals across the fat. Season lightly with salt, but add plenty of pepper.

Heat oil in a large heavy-based flameproof pot., add the beef and brown on all sides, leaving the fatty side until last. Reduce the heat and slowly brown the fat. Remove the beef from the pot and drain off the fat.

Melt the butter in the pot until foaming and then add the beef. Add the bay leaves, garlic and 5 tablespoons of vinegar. Moisten a piece of baking paper large enough to cover the pot.

Push the damp paper into the pot to rest on and cover the beef entirely. Simmer over a low heat until the vinegar reduces by half. Add a little more vinegar and when that reduces, add a little more.

Continue in this way until the beef is cooked to medium, for about 50-70 minutes. The sauce should never completely reduce because you are trying to create an emulsion. Add water, if necessary.

Turn off the heat and rest for 10 minutes. Slice the beef and serve. Spoon the sauce over the beef and garnish with bay leaves and garlic.

Random but pretty, this is what the soup looked like before the soup was added. If you're still with me, more on that soon...

The humble crumble

2011-08-10T14:28:00.003+01:00

It always amazes just how simple things need to be in order to inspire a bit of positive thinking. Last night was yet another odd one. A collection of some very intelligent people coming together and brainstorming ideas of how to raise much needed cash in today's climate to make better lives for those who need the help more than others. Meanwhile those very people in need were being simply guided to prepare and serve the nourishment required to fuel those thought processes.

The star of the show last night? Other than one of the young lads who has had a life more dreadful than we can comprehend but somehow manages to exude the willingness of a fresh and innocent kitchen recruit? Easy, it was the simple crumble. Everyone loved it, we loved cooking it, the boys and girls loved being it. Don't change this recipe one single bit, apart from if you're doing this for the kids, replace the liqueur with some orange blossom water if you'd like to.

Fig and orange crumble

Serves 6

Butter for greasing

2 oranges

About 12 ripe figs

2 tblsp soft brown sugar

2 tblsp Grand Marnier

Vanilla ice cream to serve

For the crumble

175g plain flour

Pinch of fine sea salt

100g cold unsalted butter, diced

75g demerara sugar

1 tsp ground ginger

50g porridge oats

50g nibbed almonds or crushed hazelnuts

Preheat oven to 190C/Gas 5. Lightly grease a deep baking dish and set aside. Cut the top and base off the oranges. Stand the cut side of an orange on a board and cut away all the peel and pith, then cut out the orange segments from their membranes. Do this over a bowl so you keep the juice. Drop the segments into the bowl, then repeat with the other orange.

Cut the figs into quarters. Place them in the bowl with the oranges and gently toss with the sugar and Grand Marnier. Spread the fruit evenly over the prepared baking dish and set aside.

To make the crumble, put the flour, salt and butter into a food processor and blend until the mixture forms fine crumbs. Alternatively, rub the flour, salt and butter in a bowl between your fingertips. Pour the mixture into a bowl and stir in the sugar, ginger, oats and nuts. Sprinkle the crumble evenly over the figs and oranges.

Bake for 25-30 minutes until the crumble is golden brown and the fruit soft. Remove from the oven and leave to stand for 10 minutes before serving with vanilla ice-cream or maybe a ginger lemongrass infused custard if you really want to show off your smarty pants.

Pasties in the graveyard and tomatoes in your salad

2011-07-31T17:48:00.000+01:00

Please tell me, when ever indeed did the Cornish pasty become the fashionable snack of our railway station concourses? Or have I been under a rock for so long of late it isn't even funny anymore? Maybe one leg up is that the tiddy oggy has recently been awarded Protected Geographical Indication, something that not only specifies the recipe and method by which they can be made, this now gives them location specific status that the likes of Stilton and Parma ham can lay claim to - moving in the circles of special company indeed. Anyway, enjoying a properly made one, crimped down the side and eaten from end to end after visiting a long lost friend is extra special too, whatever your thoughts on the pasty, dining with the dead, or a combination of the two.

That was lunch, loved loved it. At home, dinner was tomatoes from the Isle of Wight, and an English style feta from Belton farm in Cheshire, watercress from Hampshire and some chocolate mint from the garden. A couple of olives, a few slices of cornichons and a glug of olive oil all tumbled on top of home made granary bread. Delicious in silence.

Cornish pasties

Makes 6 pasties

12oz (350g) plain flour
3oz (90g) margarine
3oz (90g) Trex vegetable fat
12oz (350g) beef skirt
3-4 medium sized potatoes
2 onions
1 egg beaten
Salt and lots and lots of black pepper
A few knobs of butter

Fan oven 180°C/non fan ovens 200°C

First of all make your shortcrust pastry. Whizz the flour, margarine and Trex in a food processor until you have a breadcrumb consistency. Tip it into a bowl and as you cut with a knife, add enough drops of water to make a soft dough which leaves the edges of the bowl.

Wrap the dough in clingfilm and place it in the fridge for half an hour to rest. This prevents the pastry shrinking when you cook the pasties.

Cut the skirt into small pieces. Dice the onion and peel the potatoes. Divide the pastry into six. With a rolling pin, roll it our into six round pieces, less than a quarter of an inch thick. Chip the potato into very small pieces and divide between each pasty. Season.

Add an equal amount of beef to each one, and season again. Then you add a small amount of diced onion. Season.

And then add a small amount of potato on top of that and two small knobs of butter to give it a bit of juice. Final seasoning.

Pull edges of the pasty together, dust your hands with flour and crimp the edges together.

Brush with beaten egg and cook for 35 minutes. Ten minutes before the end, brush again with some more egg to make ensure the pastry is very crispy. Cool on a wire rack

What to do with an oyster and a truffle?

2011-07-21T20:11:00.001+01:00

Reflecting after a fantastic day out at Borough Market, showing around a group of boys and girls who for one sad reason after another heartbreaking one had never been in the fortunate position to have ever been around such a tantalising variety of terrific food stuffs, is just the thing to bring it all back home. This food obsession we all seem to have adopted of late - where almonds simply have to be from Marcona, and if I have to even smell another anchovy that isn't hand reared in the Cantabrian Sea I will simply die - is all well and good, but in the fear of sounding like a food wanker, it is only food after all.

What we did last Friday wasn't groundbreaking, but when we ordered up our variety of hot kebab filled baguettes, the thing that struck the hardest was that some of the crew were ordering some food items they'd never eaten before, ever. I am as guilty as the next person who counts working with food as their livelehood just an exercise of survival. When I take a piece of grilled meat in a lump of bread as a lunchtime filler for granted, this day out at the market was particularly momentous.

I always seem to throw in a recipe, and this one is no different. But this is what we're going to do when I get these guys back into the kitchen and actually handling food for themselves. Pay back, a chance to make a difference, call it what you will. But to do something striking with food for some less fortunate than some, I think there's a whole lot more we can all do.

Lamb brochettes

Serves 4-6
This dish is really versatile, it can be served as bite-size snacks, as a filling for buttered baguette with chutney and some salady crunch or as a light meal with a lightly dressed salad. They really benefit from being marinated overnight but leave it for as long as possible. If you leave it overnight, leave it in the fridge, covered with cling film and take out at least 1 hour before you start to cook it. Serve with fresh green chutney or dip into cool cucumber and mint raita and serve with naan. Alternatively, serve with the spinach rice as a main course.

450g boned lamb, cut into 2cm cubes and pierced with a fork

For the marinade

150ml Greek style thick yoghurt
½ small onion, roughly chopped

15g garlic, peeled

8g ginger, peeled
2 tsp each garam masala and cumin powder
1 tsp coriander powder

½ tsp fennel seeds, powdered

¼ tsp freshly ground black peppercorns
2 tsp vegetable oil
2 tblsp coriander leaves
½ tsp red chilli powder or to taste
2 tsp lemon juice
1 tsp salt or to taste
1-2 tblsp melted butter

6 wooden skewers, soaked

Blend all the marinade ingredients in a food processor till smooth. Stir in the lamb pieces, mix well and leave to marinate for as long as possible, overnight in the fridge would be best. Bring back to room temperature 1 hour before cooking. Discard the marinade.

Thread the cubes onto the skewers and place under a preheated grill. Cook until tender, around 5-6 minutes turning halfway through cooking. Alternatively cook in an oven preheated to 200°C for 10 minutes.

Baste with the butter and cook another minute or two for slightly pink meat.

Serve hot with lemon wedges on the side, or as we'd all prefer to be honest, crammed into a baguette with some salad on the run

A mushy pea fritter by the sea, or fancy crispy squid?

2011-07-05T13:52:00.001+01:00

There are few British delights left, that are quite quintessential as a poke of chips by the water. Whether it's on a promenade, a shingle beach, a pier or a pathway, this food sensation and the water's edge are destined to be. The fish and chip shop is as competitive a market as I've ever seen, and creativity abounds in a place where not so long ago you'd be hard pushed to see much more than cod or haddock, let alone an offering of posh prawn cocktail, followed by sea bass with a side of Caesar salad. But this is all good in the continuation of the British food movement forward, a subject close to more artery clogged hearts than you think.

Excuse the shabby phone pic, but this delight was from a pristinely clean place called Alexander's in Mudeford, Dorset. Where the 20 minute wait for the cooked to order cod, advertised at today's market price, was worth the lengthy queue. A splash of chilled pear cider and a seaside sunset and all was good with the world.

The thing that's most bothered me of late though, is the speed at which our chips go limp. No matter how quickly you get them out of the wrapping, or dig them from the bottom of the flower pot at the Bog and Chuckle I wanna be a Gastro pub, your chances of keeping them fresh are as slim as you'd be through the research process of such a dilemma. Anyways, don't think that the death of the chippy is upon us, far from it for that matter, but just in a let's spice things up with a wee bit of something super crispy from the kitchen.

Crispy paprika salt squid with aïoli

Enough for 4 to snack on

400g prepared squid tubes
vegetable oil, for deep frying
100g plain flour
1/2 tsp Spanish hot smoked paprika
1 tsp salt

For the aïoli
6 garlic cloves, peeled and finely chopped
1/2 tsp fine salt
2 large egg yolks
60ml light extra virgin olive oil
100-125ml vegetable oil, such as sunflower

First make the aïoli: put the garlic and salt in a mortar and using the pestle, grind to a paste. Put the garlic in a small food processor, add the egg yolks and mix well. With the machine running, slowly add the combined oils, a little at a time, until the mixture is very thick. Use immediately, or transfer to an airtight container or jar and refrigerate for up to two days.

Rinse the squid under running cold water and pat dry using kitchen paper. Cut the tubes along one side to open them out. Using a sharp knife, lightly score the inside surface of each tube in a criss-cross pattern, making sure you do not cut right through.

Then cut them into about 4cm pieces. Cut the tentacles into bite-sized pieces. Fill a heavy-based saucepan with vegetable oil and heat to 190C, or until a small cube of bread turns golden in about 30 seconds. While the oil is heating, combine the flour, paprika and salt in a bowl. Add the squid and mix until well coated. Shake off the squid and add to the oil in batches, cooking for 1-2 minutes each batch, or until golden and crispy.

Remove with a slotted spoon and drain on kitchen paper. Serve warm with alioli on the side.

If anyone wants to cook my father's day lunch...

2011-06-18T15:43:00.000+01:00

It's tomorrow by the way kids, so the shopping window of opportunity is pretty much NOW, and I can't hint strongly enough but shall just continue here to jot a few words down.

Since scaring myself down to a maximum of two fish moments a week at the moment, and trying my level best to hold back on red meat while increasing the vegetable intake. The gaps left seem to be utterly filled with depleting my Chinese instant noodle stockpile, so life isn't all that grim. The reserved approach to meat does ensure that on special occasions (please do refer to tomorrow as SPECIAL) then a mahoosive fat and juicy steak is completely justifiable, and so the hints keep on coming.

The mass of expertise around steaks; rearing, choosing, storing, cooking and serving is insane, and everyone and their mother is an expert on this topic of course. But there are some cool people out there who know what they're talking about while not making a meal out of it. Foodurchin's great guide to getting the beast just right is hilarious. While the wonderful people of Edinburgh are experimenting with their 22 hour beef at home show us just what is possible.

It doesn't need to be all bells and whistles you know, I'm just asking for something that I can sleep off tomorrow afternoon in front of the telly. But if I had to choose for myself i think I'd go with the larger joint approach which has tended to satisfy my weekly beefy like urges of late.

As far as what to go with it are concerned, I'm a classic steak cliche all bundled up in a chef's jacket here. Chips - large, but not fries. Watercress leaves, but not rocket, dressed lightly with a mustardy vinaigrette. Horseradish of course, but if possible freshly grated into a little creme fraiche with an extra squeeze of lemon. I'll be happy for sure.

A drink to go with that Sir did you say? Well it is a wee bit predictable but I think something rich, red and rounded might help the food slip effortlessly down, I have just the bottle of the most perfect Napa Cabernet Sauvignon brought back from the US recently that has tomorrow written all over it. The topic of American wines I have a strong opinion of which will come another day. But as I'm awaiting the arrival of the feast, I think I can indulge in a little imperfect perfection. It is my day after all.

The ethics in fish and chips

2011-06-17T10:41:00.002+01:00

From warm water shrimp and anchovies to haddock and cod, there are now almost 70 types of seafood that should remain in the sea and off the menu if we're going to tackle our sustainable lifestyles in a proper manner.

These lists, compiled by all manner of expertise, are an ever moving target. But you can be sure of one thing in that a little research and some local provenience doesn't take 5 minutes before you buy.

Just recently, a few more poor fish I've noticed being added to the not-to-eat list
include common and Dover sole from the North Sea or Irish Sea, albacore tuna from the Mediterranean and South Atlantic and certain types of Atlantic cod.

Some other fish I'd be happier if you avoid include Bay of Biscay anchovy, any type of large shrimp that has not been caught organically, Chilean seabass, conger eel, Atlantic halibut, wild Atlantic salmon, many types of shark, and nearly every type of skate. Herring too, unless from Norwegian waters are having a hard time right now too. I've just spent a few magical days in Stockholm where herring is an integral part of their daily lives, and was safely assured that everything I ate came from sustainable sources.

With a heavy heart I have to say one of my absolute favourites is in the red with all types of tuna needing to be avoided – apart from albacore tuna from
the American Albacore Fishing Association in the South Pacific and skipjack caught by pole and line methods in the Maldives or the western and central Pacific.

There is some light my friends. Hardshell cams and Pacific cod along with salmon certified by the Marine Stewardship Council, preferably from the Pacific or Alaska have moved into the category of fish that is safe and ethical to eat, along with scallops from farmed stocks. Coley and common mussels are also right up there in the good books right now too, so it's not all that bad for lovers of fish. There are always fantastic initiatives banging away to help, you just need to get out there and look. The always brilliant Lizzie has reported back on Crayfish Bob in London , tasty, fun and the absolute right thing to do to protect our water stocks.

The buzz here is buy local and in season, get to know your fish expert at the market or shop, limit yourself to fish a couple of days a week at most, and start eating more vegetables.

Lecture over, and happy (ethical) cooking!!

Clam pasta and chips for 2

What better dish to serve on a balmy summer evening than steaming plates of clam pasta. Sweet clams are steamed in a light broth of fresh tomatoes, onion, garlic and white wine and served with spaghetti or linguine pasta, topped with garlic chips for a spot of unique crunch. The ingredients here are few and simple as the clams give it most of its delicious flavour.

25 small clams
3 medium tomatoes, roughly chopped
2-3 garlic cloves, finely chopped
4-5 garlic cloves finely sliced to fry
1 small brown onion, diced
100ml dry white wine
2 tblsp of finely chopped fresh parsley
1/2 tsp sea salt
1 tsp dried chili flakes
2 tbslp of olive oil, and 200ml or so to fry the garlic
1 tblsp of butter
Spaghetti or linguine for 2

Boil some water in a large pot for the pasta. Cook the pasta according to packet instructions and have it ready around the same time as the clams or just a bit before.

Thinly slice the garlic, on a japanese mandolin if you have the nerve, and drop in the hot oil to crisp, drain onto absorbent paper and season with salt.

Soak the clams in a bowl of cold water for about 10 minutes. Drain and rinse under cold running water.

Heat the oil and butter over a medium heat in a large, heavy-based pot. Add the onion and fry for 2-3 minutes, stirring occasionally, until translucent. Add the garlic, chili flakes and salt and stir for about 20 seconds.

Add the chopped tomatoes and fry for about 7 minutes until their juice starts to evaporate.

Turn the heat up to medium-high and add the clams to the pot. Cover with a lid. After about 2-3 minutes add the wine to the pot. Cover again and shake the pot from side to side.

Cook the clams for a further 5 minutes or until they open. Add the parsley and stir with a wooden spoon. Cover and shake pot again.

Drain the pasta and then pour the clam mixture on top. Stir well, sprinkle over the garlic chips and serve immediately.

The start of the tennis grass court season and its strawberries

2011-06-10T13:16:00.007+01:00

So the tennis has moved from clay to grass just in time for the cats and dogs that live in the sky to start falling to the ground, or is it the other way round? Anyway, whatever is going on upstairs, the tennis, the rain and this time of year is when our strawberries really start to mean something. There honestly isn't anything quite like the taste of your own berries in season that haven't been in a fridge since they were picked, that is true honest flavour. Sat in the sun with their leaves still on for a few moments before devoured is yet another sensation altogether.

Scented flowers and sweet herbs always work awfully well with summer fruits. Again and as with everything seasonal, look at what is in our hedgerows and farmer's markets this time of year. A few blackberry leaves and a pinch of elderflower buds would be a spectacular infusion. Have a look at Ms Marmitelover's fantastic recent magical elder moment here. This stock syrup keeps forever and can be scented with other herbs and flowers such as geranium or mint. There's also a wonderful strawberry yoghurt parfait worth a look at from the brilliant talent that is spice spoon should any of your crop be deserving of a bit more of a regal work out.

Strawberries with hibiscus and basil syrup

Serves 4

150ml light stock syrup
1 tblsp lemon juice
2 rosehip and hibiscus tea bags
2 large fresh basil leaves
500g fresh strawberries, hulled
Extra basil leaves to garnish

Place the stock syrup in a medium-sized pan, bring almost to the boil, and then stir in the lemon juice, tea bags and basil. Remove from the heat and allow to infuse for 20 minutes. Strain and set aside until needed.

Ten minutes before serving, place the strawberries in four bowls. Pour over the juice and leave to macerate at room temperature.

Garnish with extra basil leaves, maybe even a tiny twist of fresh black pepper and serve. Cream, ice cream or custard isn't wholly necessary, but I'm not judging if you insist.

The safe cucumber sandwich for 2011

2011-06-05T22:21:00.001+01:00

So. the evil that is E.coli seems yet again to be ripping the soul from our larders, and the fear mongers amongst us are perversely turning from vegetarianism to carnivores in a role reversal of the sad foot and mouth era of not so long ago. I'd say just pickle the buggers if the unnecessary paranoia is just too much to handle, and just last week while in Stockholm I did happily overdose on buckets of them with wonderful meatballs, rich mashed potatoes and glorious lingonberries.

But, and alas, the cricket season is upon us at home, and without the cucumber sandwich to refresh our delicate sportsmen, the fear of post tea slumps on local fields across the nation are a real fear not to be taken lightly. What to come up with as a replacement? Surely a second innings is nothing if fueled on scones, jam and cream alone?

Here we go then, out on a limb with the alternative to the cucumber sandwich for the summer ahead. There's a bit more work involved, but it's one of those things best made the night before anyway, saving on the day time to get out your lucky balls and get those nasty red streak marks out of your trousers.

This Provençal inspired number is pressed and stored in the fridge for at least a few hours, allowing the bread to soak up the juices from the filling — this gives a tasty, rich sarnie. Traditionally, a flat round loaf (about 6in wide) is used, but baguettes will be fine.

Pan bagnat for the cricket field

Serves 4

75ml extra virgin olive oil
3 garlic cloves, crushed
1 large baguette or round loaf
1 tin tuna, drained (preferably albacore in olive oil)
1 tin salted anchovies, drained and washed
1 heaped tblsp capers, rinsed
1 white onion, finely sliced, blanched in boiling water for 1 minute and patted dry
5 wood roasted piquillo peppers (from a jar)
3 vine ripened tomatoes, sliced
2 hard boiled eggs, sliced
Cucumber or lettuce, sliced
Large sprig fresh basil
Freshly ground black pepper
and salt

Heat half the olive oil over a low flame and gently fry the garlic for 5 minutes, making sure it doesn’t burn. Remove and set aside for 10 minutes, then strain the oil and combine with the remaining olive oil; discard the garlic.

Slice the baguette in half lengthways and brush the inside with the oil, pressing it firmly into the bread. In a bowl, mix together the tuna, anchovies and capers. Fill the sandwich: layer the onion, peppers, tomatoes, egg, salad and basil leaves, putting the tuna mix in the centre. Season

Put the other half of the bread on top and press down. Wrap in cling film, weight down and chill in the fridge for several hours. Serve with tea or lashings or lemonade.

The Swedes and their meatballs, köttbullar to you and I

2011-06-02T23:15:00.003+01:00

I've done meatballs in many guises before, maybe my problem has been that I've never taken them terribly serious. Here in Stockholm, as I'm sure is the case in the whole of Sweden, the issue of meatballs are taken deadly seriously. Swedish meatballs seem to be absolutely necessary for gatherings, comfort and memories. In fact, I'll go so far as to say that along with herring, it's one of the principle necessities keeping this glorious country together.

In my limited meatball career, I've never been a fan of store-bought meatballs , so I've long insisted on making my own, and actually think I made some killer black pudding balls in a tomato and apple sauce for Simon's birthday party just before flying onto Sweden. Home made has never ever been a hassle for me, and I think in the main it's because of the cooking process. No frying. At all. Oven baked. The only way to go.

Generally I don't measure my seasonings and spices, just add quite a bit of the white pepper, and just a dash of everything else. You can serve these with anything - creamed potatoes and gravy with lingonberries and pickled cucumber tend to go down a storm, but in a tomato sauce, wrapped in a pita with garlic mayonnaise, ketchup and chips. The possibilities are endless.

Perfect Swedish köttbullar, oven-baked

900g ground meat
1 yellow onion, very finely chopped
1-2 small cloves of garlic, minced
1 egg
salt
white pepper
pinch of cinnamon
pinch of ground ginger
pinch of cardamom
pinch of allspice

Mix everything to an even batter, and form small, round balls. Put in a large roasting pan, and bake for about 15 minutes or so at 175°C. Shake the pan a few times to ensure an even surface on your meatballs.

Jag är Verkligen Hungrig.

Förhandsgranska - Salmon with dill and lime

2011-06-01T23:08:00.003+01:00

Stockholm these past couple of days has brought with it an alarming little display of food stuffs I have easily been forced to admit I have never tasted the like of before. From the subtle bleak caviar heaped onto crispy buttered toast, to the rightly acquired taste of surströmming. An extremely heavily fermented herring, quite a flavour I'm still working out how to describe. Next dish planned is the blodpudding, which quite clearly doesn't need an awful lot of translation, but the charm of it being traditionally eaten with lingonberry jam, potatoes and grated carrots has the better of me already.

At this time of year, and in particular back home, pâtés and terrines are particularly useful for what is going to prove to be a summer of many lunches, requiring no last-minute preparation beyond making a few rounds of that buttery toast. Strictly speaking, this dish isn't a terrine in the classic sense, but I serve it as such: the coarse, textured salmon in a china dish together with crisp Swedish inspired rye toast and paper-thin slices of pickled cucumber. It is the perfect light lunch with maybe some salad and cheese to follow. Or, in a more formal meal it would do as a refreshing first course before you move onto the beast that is fermented fish!

Salmon marinaded with dill and lime

500g wild salmon
4 tblsp mild olive oil
2 tblsp dill leaves
2 large ripe limes
1 tblsp capers

To serve - hot rye toast

Remove the skin from the salmon and, using a large, heavy knife, chop the flesh finely. You want it to be fine enough to stick together, but by no means a purée. Scoop it into a bowl. Mix in the olive oil, the chopped dill, the lime juice and the capers. Season carefully with salt and black pepper and pack the mixture into a terrine or china dish and leave overnight. Eat the next day with hot rye toast and pickled cucumber.

Pickled cucumber

Half a large cucumber
4 tblsp white wine vinegar
2 tblsp chopped coriander leaves
caster sugar

Peel the cucumber and slice it very thinly - you should be able to see through each slice. Put the slices in a colander and sprinkle with sea salt, then leave for a good half hour.

Rinse and pat dry with kitchen roll, put in a bowl with about 4 tablespoons of white wine vinegar, a couple of teaspoons of sugar and the chopped coriander leaves. Season with black pepper and toss gently. Set aside for a couple of hours, or overnight.

Sardines for breakfast?

2011-05-26T11:14:00.003+01:00

The poor man’s fish has never been more fashionable. I've seen it most recently gracing some of our very 'best' restaurants, and is as popular as it rightly should be. In mainland europe, the freshest, locally caught sardines have always been treated as a delicacy, and more often than not are at their best simply grilled or barbecued.

This said, the oily strength of the fresh sardine can cope with an abundance of amazing flavours. They can be fantastic marinated and can stand up to strong spices. They can also happily take sour and acidity which counters the oiliness of the sardines.

I was involved in a decent conversations with one of my closest ever friends a couple of days ago regarding his new menus for a restaurant opening he is in the final stages of. We were poring over his breakfast menus and racking our brains for something a little different but a bit of fun too.

We started talking about tinned pilchards in tomato sauce on toast, which evidently is a comfort snack to more than you'd imagine, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with tinned sardines on toast for a quick lunch on the hop. But I think we're going to look into putting freshly roasted sardines and slow roasted tomatoes with a hint of thyme and rosemary on top of griddled slices of ciabatta, and see where this takes us.

Something along these lines...which should be enough for 4

Breakfast sardines and tomatoes on ciabatta with parsley, thyme and rosemary

8 sardines, scaled and gutted
250g ripe tomatoes, cut into small wedges
Rock salt and freshly ground black pepper
A fist of flat parsley, ripped

3 sprigs thyme, leaves ripped off
1 sprig of rosemary, needles picked
Olive oil, for drizzling and brushing
4 thick or 8 thin slices of ciabatta
A handful of fresh greens such as peashoots

Preheat the oven to 200C/Gas 6. Lay the sardines and tomatoes in a roasting tray; season with rock salt and freshly ground pepper. Scatter the parsley, thyme and rosemary over the sardines and tomatoes. Drizzle with olive oil, toss to coat, then roast for 10 minutes or until the sardines are just cooked.

Heat a griddle pan until almost smoking. Brush the ciabatta lightly with olive oil then season with salt and pepper. Griddle on both sides until toasted and slightly charred.

Divide the ciabatta between plates; place the roasted tomatoes on top. Slice the heads off the sardines; serve whole or filleted on top of the tomatoes. Spoon over the pan juices and sprinkle a pinch of greenery and serve immediately. A good cup of tea and the morning's papers essential.

Cockles, leeks and many spices

2011-05-24T19:48:00.002+01:00

I recently had some okayish mussels, in a quite predictable setting with a rather pedestrian style but this time with an unexpected finale. Well, I guess if you're going to have them without an R in the month, a bit of time spent on the toilet is what you deserve.

This hasn't put me off. Foolishly we're now experimenting with cockles out of season, and I can assure that this number has been tried and tested in a few guises, thus far without the bathroom being a part of the recipe.. I recall first making a version of this as the soupy bit for a steamed turbot dish, but was so happy with the flavours that I thought it deserved its own moment of glory.

Cockles are one of our more underused native shellfish, and it is a shame that they are more recognisable all crinkled up in the pain of a vinegar pickling by the seaside. Do try with cockles as I'm telling you to, but don't stop there with what our craggy shores offer. Maybe just wait till September or there abouts to throw all caution to the sea wind.

Cockles leeks and many spices
Serves about 6

800g leeks (you can use baby ones if you've got some)
2 tblsp olive oil
3 large red chillis, chopped
2 small green chillis, sliced into rounds
Pinch each of cardamom, cumin, cinnamon, cayenne and caraway seeds
1 lemon grass stalk sliced
1 thumb of ginger, peeled and sliced
500g fresh cockles (in the shell)
2 glasses white wine
300ml fish stock
100ml double cream
20g parsley (rough-chop the leaves, and discard the stalks)
20g thyme, chopped
70g butter (unsalted and at room temperature)
black pepper

Boil a pan of salted water. Trim the leeks, and blanch for 6-8 minutes until al dente. Run them immediately under cold water until they reach room temperature (they should feel neither hot nor cold), then cut into thick rounds, or if using baby leeks, into halves or thirds. In a deep frying pan heat the olive oil until nearly smoking. Chuck in all of the spices and aromats apart from half of the red chilli, and toss quickly for half a minute.

Throw in the cockles, then a minute later the white wine, and put the lid on. Cook for 3 minutes. Add the fish stock, toss in the leeks, and reduce the liquid by half. Lower the heat, stir in the double cream, rough-chopped parsley leaves and chopped thyme. Whisk in the butter in knobs and season with black pepper (it should not need any salt). Serve in shallow bowls, discarding any cockles that are not open. Sprinkle the remainder of the chilli and prop the bathroom window open to enjoy properly...

Nasi return Goreng

2011-05-17T18:29:00.002+01:00

Traveling is simply the one thing I need to do to survive. If I don't have a trip on the horizon, I get the fidgets. If I haven't got an e-ticket number, or a booking reference to refer to, I'm anxious.

It's times like these, right now anyway, where I return to a place of familiarity and am reminded why I move around so much, why I do what I do and what kicks me on and off those planes. In a nutshell, this destination has a fabulous Nasi Goreng written all over it.

The ironic part of where I've hit landfall, is in that it isn't some beautiful corner of Indonesia where the humble nasi is as part of the fabric as shortbread is to my youth in Scotland, but rathe where I think 'we' perfected this dish.
It's been a year since I was here, and let the boys loose. But I haven't returned to be disappointed. Delighted more like.

Here's pretty much what we're working off - give or take a splash here and there, and a chicken skewer or two.

Serves 4

2½ tblsp vegetable oil
6 small shallots, finely sliced
250g long grain rice, freshly cooked and cooled
A handful each of stir-friable greens, such as asparagus, mangetout, sugar snaps, beansprouts
Salt and pepper
Handful of prawn crackers, deep fried in vegetable oil
4 fried eggs

Paste

2 cloves garlic, crushed

2 tsp shrimp paste, toasted

2 mild red chillies, chopped

1 tblsp kecap manis or dark soy sauce

½ tblsp sweet chilli sauce

For the dressing, in a mortar, pound together the garlic, shrimp paste and chillies, then mix in the kecap manis and chilli sauce.

Or just chop and crush everything. Heat 2 tblsp oil in a wok and large frying pan and fry the shrimp paste mixture for 2 minutes.

Add the shallots and stir-fry for about half a minute, then add the rice and stir-fry together for about 3 minutes.

Divide between serving bowls or plates. Stir-fry the beansprouts and greens in ½ tblsp oil with salt and pepper for about 1 minute and pile on to the nasi goreng.

Add rice crackers, fried egg, and serve.

Tomatoes in Paradise

2011-05-10T17:02:00.000+01:00

So, to find yourself on a desert island, the most perfect desert island that is, and have to cook dinner - well it isn't such a hardship considering the colour of the sea, the purity of the sand and the simplicity of the sky all roll into a neat ball of beautiful loveliness. The only small challenge attached to such assignments tend to be the produce available. We can make fire pretty much instantly, but when there isn't a market or store, what you find is what you've got. This is on of the raw beauties we tend to overlook and take completely for granted given the lifestyles we find comfort in, so there is little more refreshing than to be presented with a limited larder and a hungry belly, and know that this will work out better than if we were spoiled with a limitless supply of ingredients to spoil and waste.

I have a thing for tomatoes anyway, and although your classic castaway island should be teeming with exotic fruit, I went for the tom as centre stage of the dessert. A fruit it is, and as a fruit it shall be treated, in an 'odd but it makes sense' kind of way. We'll call this number 'Tomato 21" as there were 21 ingredients filling it before the slow baking process took place. Of course you needn't go to this number, but a nice balance of nuts, fruits, spices and sweeteners to blend together inside the tomato without drying out is the goal.

Apart from the tomato itself, which I cut the top off and carefully removed the insides without splitting the skin before filling and replacing his hat, here are the 21 fillers, in no particular order of importance.

Pistachio, almonds, walnuts, peanuts, pine nuts, dried plums, dried apricots, sultanas, dried figs, prunes, cinnamon, vanilla, nutmeg, star anise, mixed spice, orange juice, pineapple juice, brown sugar, honey, butter and fresh pineapple. All diced or crushed quite small where appropriate and blended together to fill the fruit.

If there is surplus liquid left over, this is perfect for the basting, if not blend together a bit more of the juices and the honey for this, then pop all into a baking tray and into an oven at 60 c for 8 hours, basting every 30 minutes or so.

Serve hot, with a spoonful of the basting juice and if you have an ice cream machine on your desert island, a scoop of vanilla on the side would be an acceptable luxury.

The only way to cook a steak

2011-04-15T20:07:00.000+01:00

It's easy enough to claim perfection in the privacy of your own home, so the boast of nailing the perfect roast beef is simple enough should you wish to master this impressive but basic technique. Grilling a steak truly is a bit of an art in that the timing can be so critical to the point where abject failure is only a minute or two away.

Choose your meat wisely, as the meat is absolutely the most important part of the process and must be able to stand alone. I'd plump for a ribeye pretty much every time, but it is on the pricey side, and if you don't know where to start the trimming process it is easy enough to end up with too much fat in there too. Sirloin is a terrific and slightly cheaper option, but for flavour I love the rump which is completely is under-rated I feel.

Where I'm headed with this is simple. I'm not cutting individual portions and attempting to get a wonderful crust all over while keeping the cooking temperature on the inside just how we like it. All this at home, smoke, pans, grills, fire, hot = fire brigade call out. At work when I cook beef in this fashion, I'm getting my grill ridiculously hot – close to 1000 degrees, and I'm not able or prepared to do that at home. My perfect steak is cooked as a whole joint, then sliced to reveal the tender insides as and when you're ready to eat. This way you won't have a charred exterior all the way round, but you certainly won't run as much a risk of over-cooking your dinner.

Serves 4 of your very closest friends

It is always better to use a bigger joint than you think you need. If the beef is too lean, ask the butcher to tie some extra fat over the joint. Roasting joints are rib of beef, sirloin or topside. Calculate the cooking time at 12 minutes per 450g for very rare, 15 minutes for rare and 20 for well done on the bone. For a joint off the bone, allow 15, 20 and 25 minutes respectively.

About a 1kg piece of ribeye joint
Crystal salt, ground black pepper and dry mustard powder

If there is any exterior fat on the meat, score it with a sharp knife and rub it well with salt, pepper and dry mustard powder.

Preheat the oven to 230C/gas 8. Place the joint into a hot roasting pan and cook for 15 minutes (20 if the joint is over 2.75kg), then turn the heat down to 160C/gas 3.

Roast at this temperature for the remainder of the cooking time, I would say a 1kg piece needs no more than another 20 minutes for a rare end result.

Remove and allow to rest for a final 10 minutes on a warm plate before carving and devouring as we did last night...

Tuna and tomato

2011-04-05T18:10:00.000+01:00

Not your classic combination when you think of what automatically works, and what does not. But there are times when it is actually a good thing to break out of the mediocre and go bold in the kitchen. Brie on a pizza springs immediately to mind, but that's for another time. Here it's tuna and tomato, odd on the surface, grand underneath.

Tuna tartare with tomato dressing

Serves 4

Tuna tartare

250g sashimi-grade tuna, diced

10g chives, chopped

10g shallots, chopped

5g lemon confit or Moroccan preserved lemon

6 drops of Tabasco sauce

6 drops of Worcestershire sauce

35ml olive oil

Salt and pepper

Toss the diced tuna with all the remaining ingredients, season with salt and pepper and keep chilled till ready to serve.

Tomato pulp

500g red Roma tomatoes

65g sugar

10 basil leaves

Salt and pepper

Cut the tomatoes in half, combine them with the sugar and basil in a large bowl. Season well with salt and black pepper, and allow to rest, covered, for a couple of hours.

Place the bowl over a pan of simmering water, and cook for 1 and a half hours. Let the mixture sit in the fridge for a further 24 hours, then pass the finished pulp through a fine sieve.

Marry up the tuna tartare, the tomato pulp, something cracker like for crunch, something green as in rocket leaves, a sprinkle of the best salt and olive oil you have.

The alternative is - raw tuna, seasoned as you like, cut up some tomatoes, open a bag of pita chips, and the world is already a better place for it.

Lamb grilled with mustard and lemon

2011-04-04T14:25:00.000+01:00

At the time of year where spring lamb is once again all the rage, you can do nothing better than take a couple of flavour agents to accompany the meat, and little else is needed. Basically a mild enough seasoning that does not overpower the flavour of the lamb is the name of the game here. Steaks cut from the leg usually come nearly 2.5cm thick - for anything thinner or thicker alter the cooking time accordingly, but really any cut here will do, I've actually used the whole loin here for this version. And a wee bit of wonderfully fresh tuna sashimi while waiting for the lamb to cook didn't do any harm either.

Serves 2

2 plump cloves of garlic, peeled
a good pinch of sea salt
1 tblsp fresh thyme leaves or 2 tsp dried thyme
2 tblsp grain mustard
2 tblsp lemon juice
4 tblsp olive oil
4 lamb steaks, ribs or chops, weighing about 100g each

Crush the garlic with the salt in a pestle and mortar or in a small bowl with the end of the rolling pin. Add the herbs, mustard and lemon juice. Whisk in the oil with a fork, or small whisk, until the mixture has slightly thickened.

Pour one-third over the lamb, turn over the meat and anoint that side too with another third.

Heat the grill to very hot. Grill the lamb for 3-4 minutes on each side, depending on how thick the meat is.

Brush with the remaining mixture as you turn the meat. The lamb should be a little singed outside, and rare within.

If I was a Honky, where would I eat?

2011-03-22T19:50:00.000Z

So, it's been a couple of years since I lived in the old colony, but there is not a day that passes where I miss the people, the smells, the colour and above all, the food. If I was to find myself perched on death row, there would be little hesitation in leaning on my memories of Cantonese food for comfort in my final hours. That unfortunate scenario wouldn't open up many options of where to eat, but would easily allow me, in theory the choice of what to eat.

During my time there (Hong Kong, not prison) I ate regally, ate often, ate uniquely, and ate inspired. While there are too many places I partook in dining, for each one of these, there are 50 more that I never got the chance to sample. There will be time still to try and knock a few of those off the list I'd hope. Fun Gwor (steamed rice flour dumplings filled with pork, shrimp and bamboo shoots) in Shau Kei Wan. Fish Ball Noodles in Aberdeen (the first meal I even had in HK. The Char Siu over rice at Joy Hing's on Hennessy Road. The Peking Roast Duck at Spring Deer in Tsim Sha Tsui (which is way less of a con job than what the Roast Goose you get for your dollar at the tourist trap that is Yung Kee. The wonton noodle at Chim Chai Kee on Wellington Street. The Har Gau at Luk Yu Tea House on D'Aguilar Street. Chiu Chow in Kowloon City.

The weird and the wonderfulness of hot pot anywhere in Causeway Bay. The most amazing Roast Pigeon at the brilliant Tai Ping Koon in Yau Ma Tei. Typhoon shelter Crab on Lockhart Road - the kind of crab that rips the roof of your mouth off with the garlic it's packing (try a Guinness as a reliever) The bizzarly delicious Beef Tendon Noodles at Niu Gen Mein in Jordan. Chou Doufu (Stinky Tofu, like really stinky by the way) in Prince Edward.

The stewed chicken feet and perfectly crispy skinned Siu Yuk they do at Lei Garden. The Congee from Ho Hung Kee in Causeway Bay. The sticky wok fried Razor Clams at Lamcombe on Lamma Island. The delicate beauty of the Beijing style Dumplings in soup they do at Wang Fu on Wellington Street. The thick wide flat noodles with Beef (Hor Fun) they have at Tak Cheong on Electric Street in Tin Hau. I need to stop now before I feel any more faint...

A first day of spring risotto

2011-03-21T15:18:00.000Z

As the weather does finally seem to have turned the corner, and today being the first official day of the new season, I think we're finally done with red meat stews for a while, and it is now time to lighten the fridge up a little. This is not a particularly authentic risotto in the true sense, as its low on rice and high on vegetables, but that is just the point of the 'spring' bit. If any of the vegetables prove elusive you can double up on your favourite or substitute young broad beans (my favourite)

1 bunch asparagus
2 red onions
2 pints (just over 1 litre) water
6oz/200g sprouting broccoli
3 tblsp olive oil for cooking
½ tsp salt
5oz/150g risotto rice
½ glass (4fl oz/125ml) white wine
1 tsp tomato purée
6oz/200g garden peas
2oz/50g cold butter
2oz/50g freshly grated Parmesan
Salt to taste
Handful chopped mint or basil

Peel and dice the onions. Reserve the skins, tops and tails. Trim the asparagus
and chop finely, reserving the woody ends of the stems and any peelings. Add the onion skins and asparagus trimmings to the water and simmer for 20 minutes.

Strain and return to the heat so that it simmers next to your risotto pan.
Trim the broccoli and chop the tender part of the stem and florets finely. Set
aside with the asparagus. Heat the oil in a wide-bottomed pan and add the
onions and salt. Stir, reduce the heat and cover. Sweat for 10-15 minutes,
checking to make sure the onions don’t catch.

Turn up the heat and add the rice. Stir it through and add the wine. Let it bubble
and reduce by half, then lower the heat to a gentle simmer. Stir in the tomato
purée, asparagus, broccoli and peas. Add just enough stock to cover everything.
Cook, stirring gently, until all the stock has been absorbed. Add just enough
stock to cover again, and repeat the process.

When this stock has been absorbed remove the pan from the heat. Stir in the
butter and cheese and cover. Let it rest for five minutes, then season, add the
herbs and serve. Contrary to popular myth it isn’t necessary to douse a risotto
like this with more cheese at the table if you've added the right amount in the kitchen.

Thai prawns

2011-03-07T14:46:00.004Z

So a whirlwind trip to Phuket and back ticked off the to do list, and while the hazy fog of jetlag is still with me, I thought there'd be nothing better than a killer prawn curry to keep the memories alive. There was only so much that could be done with barely 48 hours in the country, but splitting the time between the heart of the island in Thalang which is in the shadows of Khao Phra Thaeo National Park, and the truly magical Khao Sok a couple of hours north of Phuket proved to capture all my attention and more.

I think it must be the simplicity of approach to the food that draws me, one of the best things I ate was a little dish of rice topped with slices of roast duck and a bowl of peanut chilli dipping sauce. Perfect and moreish, loved it for what it wasn't trying to be, and that I think is Thai food in a nutshell. I adored the smells, colours and sounds, there is always a certain vibrancy in that corner of South East Asia that will for ever steal me away, and in a food sense will continue to be an endless inspiration. Even on a wet and miserable Sunday in DC, the Maine Avenue fish market was a must for the prawns, aiding this story (with audio! ) to continue for a little while longer.

This is quite a thin curry, which I've seen served with spiced salted beef. Kaffir lime leaves; fresh long chillies and Thai basil as essential garnishes, to give the dish its characteristic flavour.

Tradition demands that the prawns are added to the frying curry paste, but I feel that this can lead to such delicate items being overcooked, as they then continue simmering after the coconut milk is added. I think it's ultimately better to add the prawns once the base of the curry is made, when adding the vegetables. Almost any meat or fish can be used in place of the prawns, and the combination of the vegetable element has flexibility also.

Serves 4

5 tblsp cracked coconut cream
2½ tblsp green curry paste
1½ tblsp fish sauce, to taste
250ml coconut milk and/or chicken or prawn stock
3 apple aubergines, stalk removed and each cut into sixths (if cut in advance, keep in salted water to prevent discoloration)
100g picked pea aubergines
8-12 good quality large, raw prawns, cleaned and de-veined
3-4 kaffir lime leaves, torn
3 young green chillies, deseeded and thinly sliced at an angle
handful of Thai basil leaves
1 rounded tblsp shredded wild ginger

To make cracked coconut cream, simmer until most of the liquid has evaporated. It will then separate into thin oil and milk solids.

Heat the cracked coconut cream, add the curry paste and fry over a high heat for about 5 minutes, stirring regularly, until fragrant. Make sure the paste is quite oily.

Season with fish sauce, and then moisten with the coconut milk or stock, or a mixture of the two. Bring to the boil, and then add the apple and pea aubergines. Simmer for a few minutes to cook before adding the prawns. Continue to simmer until they too are cooked.

Finish with the remaining ingredients, and then allow to rest for a minute or so before serving. The curry should have a dappling of separated coconut cream floating on top.

For the podcast click here!

Barbecued rib eye steaks and summer vegetable skewers with a tangy lemon dipping sauce

2011-02-08T23:23:00.000Z

On a recent weekend get away to New York City it was staggering to stumble about Chinatown and see with my very own senses of sight and smell just how authentic it all is. Having lived and breathed Asia myself I was in love the moment I made ground out of the Subway and ventured up Canal Street, this is a must on anybody's go to list if in the city and in need of something reminiscent of South East Asia. Manhattan's Chinatown is one of the oldest ethnic Chinese enclaves outside of Asia. The char siu bao was phenomenal as were some near damn perfect sui mai, but today we shall leave them to the experts I think.

Here's a barbecued steak idea for home, nothing whatsoever like the char siu of a good bbq shop, but easily something to brighten a cold late Winter night at home...

Serves 4

4 x 200g rib eye beef steaks

Olive oil, to drizzle

Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

2 large garlic cloves, peeled and crushed

2 tsp ground cumin

2 tsp ground coriander

Large handful of lemon thyme sprigs

1 glass of dry white wine

1 large courgette, trimmed

1 medium aubergine, trimmed

1 large red onion, peeled
4 globe artichoke hearts, cooked

For the dipping sauce
4 tblsp mayonnaise
3 tblsp Greek yoghurt
Pinch of cayenne powder
Zest and juice of 1 large lemon

Put the steaks in a bowl or food bag with a generous drizzle of olive oil, some freshly ground black pepper, the garlic, spices, a few sprigs of lemon thyme and the white wine. Toss everything together, then leave to marinate at room temperature for one hour.

For the vegetable skewers, slice the courgette in half lengthwise, then cut into 1.5cm thick half-moons. Slice the aubergine into quarters lengthwise, then cut across each quarter into 1.5cm thick wedges. Chop the red onion into small chunks or wedges and the globe artichoke hearts into quarters.

If using wooden skewers, soak them in a bowl of cold water. Put all the vegetables into a bowl. Pick the leaves from the lemon thyme and toss through the vegetables with some freshly ground pepper and a generous glug of olive oil. Thread the vegetables alternately on to the skewers.

Season the beef and vegetables with salt just before you start barbecuing. Allow 10-15 minutes for the vegetable skewers on the barbecue, turning them regularly until the vegetables are tender and golden. Cook the steaks over a high heat, allowing 3-5 minutes on each side, then allow them to rest on a warm plate for 5 minutes.

For the dipping sauce, mix all the ingredients together in a small bowl, adding lemon juice and seasoning to taste. Serve the steaks on warmed plates with two vegetable skewers per person and the dipping sauce in small bowls on the side

Flatbreads in the Indian manner and Udon with shepherd's pie filling

2011-01-27T23:38:00.001Z

I have travelled a fair bit, and have found my way pretty well in a fair old cross mix of countries. Often leaning back on those travels when hunger rears its regular head, and in my humble opinion there's nothing quite like a whiff of nostalgia to loosen up the appetite. One country I've never been to (shame on me) is India, but that will change sooner rather than later with an impending wedding invitation not too far off. With the recent news of this, and a little bit of bread experimentation the past couple of days, a kind of a flatbread naan number was born. Nothing new in the sense of rolling out some dough and slapping it into a super hot oven I know, but such fun to play with a variety of toppings and see the creations puff in seconds before your very eyes.

There was a dinner I had a few years back a couple of hours outside Napoli. Now, I tend to remember most meals, and this one I certainly do for this singular reason. Just the crispy, salty pizza-like flatbread we were deluged with before our food proper came to the table, this was why that restaurant existed I'm sure. I'll be damned if I can remember what I actually ordered that night, but those pillows of slightly charred crust were to die for. Dribbling in terrific olive oil, and almost too much great sea salt, but not quite, and cooked in seconds in a fabulously hot wood fired oven, they were for sure the best part of that adventure by a long way.

So therein lies a flash of the reason why, but the rest of this meal of mine is best left to a matter of necessity. Shepherd's pie base left over from the other day was sure to make a great sauce for pasta. Alas no pasta in the cupboard, but a pack of jolly expensive udon filled in the gap instead. I'm going to get hung drawn and quartered by my Japanese friends for this, but they made for a pretty outstanding substitute for the missing pasta... I shall remember that dish in the same way the flatbreads will continue to make an appearance at home...

These are slightly lighter than typical curry house naan breads but an equally delicious accompaniment to any Japanese dishes you might be knocking up! Don’t be tempted to overbake them because they will be dry and hard. They are best eaten straight out of the oven while still warm. If you are making them ahead, slightly under-bake them, then just before serving, sprinkle with water and finish under the grill

Makes 10-12

500g strong white flour

1 tsp baking powder

1 tblsp caster sugar

1 tsp fine sea salt

7g sachet easy-blend dried yeast

200ml natural yoghurt

2 tblsp groundnut oil

For the toppings

Sesame, kalonji, cumin or poppyseeds, freshly chopped garlic and coriander

Melted butter, for brushing

Sift the strong white flour and baking powder into a large mixing bowl. Stir through the sugar, salt and dried yeast, then make a well in the middle. Whisk the natural yoghurt and groundnut oil together and pour into the well. Add 150ml tepid water, then mix everything together to make a soft dough. If the dough seems dry, add a little more tepid water. Knead well for about 8-10 minutes or until the dough is smooth and elastic. Cover and leave in a warm place until doubled in size.

Preheat the oven to 220C/Gas 7. Place a roasting tin half-filled with water at the bottom of the oven. This will create moisture, which will prevent the naans drying out during baking. Punch down the dough, then divide into 10-12 equal portions. Flatten and shape the portions into teardrop shapes, spreading the dough with the tips of your fingers. Transfer to lightly greased baking sheets.

Sprinkle your choice of toppings over the naan breads, pressing them gently into the dough. Brush the surface with the melted butter, then bake in the oven for 10-12 minutes, turning halfway, or until the naans are risen and cooked.

Smothered spinach and black bean burritos

2011-01-26T20:22:00.000Z

As Superbowl XLV appears over the horizon (11 days and a counting) the thoughts of game day snacks seem to be at the forefront of my event planning from here on in. There needn't be any pressure to out perform yourself on a day like this - taking the easy route is forgiven for most of what you serve, although I'm personally making sure I'm putting all I have into my chilli while allowing dishes as below slip as quietly as possible into the repertoire.

This will serve 4, but that's just a silly quantity to consider really.

250g creamed spinach with 1 cup sweetcorn kernels
Cooking-oil spray
1 can (15 oz.) black beans
1 tsp chilli powder
1/2 tsp garlic powder
1/4 tsp cumin
4 large (burrito-size) flour tortillas
1 jar (16 oz.) salsa (hotter the better)
1/4 cup shredded cheddar cheese

Fold the sweetcorn into the spinach, stir in the black beans, chilli powder, garlic powder and cumin.

Meanwhile, spray a 13-by-9-inch glass or ceramic baking dish with cooking oil spray. Set the dish aside. Rinse the black beans, and set them aside to drain.

Assemble the burritos: Place 1 flour tortilla in the prepared baking dish. Spoon half of the spinach mixture into the middle of the tortilla, and wrap, tucking both ends under burrito-style. Place the folded burrito seam-side down at one end of the baking dish. Repeat with the remaining tortillas.

Pour the salsa over the burritos, and spread the salsa to coat them evenly. Cover the dish with microwave-safe plastic wrap, and fold a corner back to make a vent. Place the dish in the microwave, and cook, on high, until heated through, about 4 to 6 minutes, stopping to rotate the dish after 2 minutes.

Sprinkle 1 tablespoon cheese evenly on top of each burrito to garnish. Serve at once. Chilled beer. TV. Football.

A romantic chicken salad, not forgetting the vinaigrette

2011-01-25T18:36:00.000Z

The next big date flagged up with a huge red star on the calendar (apart from Superbowl weekend of course, which is marked in blue and yellow highlighters by the way) clearly has to be Valentine's Day. An occasion to have yourself legally robbed, both of cash and guilt, and put each and every one of us under the pressure we rarely would give to an enemy of the state while persuading them to reveal where they've hidden the big bombs.

Why cook at home and go to all that effort and mess rather than take the bother out to your favourite restaurant (which will be mercillesly jacking their prices up for the joy of the occasion)? Where is the fun in actually cooking at home, creating something to be proud of, watch it eaten (hopefully) and reaping the benefits of that warm fuzzy feeling of acomplishment. Who actually does this sort of nonsense anymore? There can be precious few of us left who really, trully and honestly want to cook for a loved one, making them happy through nourishment... Well stop right there daddy'o, we all should...Each and every one of us can make a wee difference in our kitchens, and trust me here, even if stuffed up, the effort goes a long long way at home.

The first time a girl cooked for me on, ironically it had to be on Valentine’s day, was when I was 16. Her parents were out of town, well I think that's what she told me. She dressed up a set of foot stools in her living room and built a fire in the fireplace.

For dinner, she made us each an enormous salad—a bowl piled high with spinach leaves, grilled chicken, walnuts, either dried cranberries or raisins I think and a cheese of one form or another, hopefully it was a goat's.

I do recall she wasn’t much of a cook, and was incredibly nervous about making everything perfect. So nervous, in fact, that she forgot to put any description of a dressing on our salads. It was close to awful; each mouthful was a chore to swallow, each bite crackled like the log fire, and every time I dug in for another forkful, the poor thing had to be accompanied by a coy smile or acknowledgment towards her efforts.

If I was you, I'd be thinking along the lines of something as straight forward as this (don't forget the dressing) for your love this Valentine's, well that or book your favourite over-priced restaurant as soon as you possibly can.

Jerusalem artichokes provide carbohydrates and starch in this all-in-one salad. I think it is ideal for a light lunch and it leaves you with just enough room for a quick dessert. If you’re short of time, of course you can leave out the hassle of the deep-fried onion rings, but they do give a nice bit of crunch to the salad.

This will serve 4 as a starter, or a cosy generous 2 on its' own.

400g Jerusalem artichokes, scrubbed and washed
2 tblsp olive oil
4 free-range chicken breasts, with skin on
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
A few knobs of butter
150g baby spinach leaves, washed

For the vinaigrette
2 shallots, peeled and finely chopped
50ml sherry vinegar
150ml olive oil
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
Pinch of caster sugar

For the onion rings
1 medium onion, peeled, cut horizontally and separated into rings
125g plain flour, plus 1 tblsp extra for dusting
30g corn flour
½ tsp fine sea salt
300ml light beer (or soda water)
Groundnut oil, for deep-frying

First, cook the Jerusalem artichokes. Boil them with their skin on in a pan of salted water until tender when pierced with a sharp knife, after about 10-15 minutes.

Meanwhile, prepare the vinaigrette. Mix the chopped shallot, vinegar and oil together in a small bowl and season to taste with the salt, pepper and sugar. Set aside and allow the flavours to infuse.

When tender, drain the Jerusalem artichokes and leave to cool slightly. Heat a frying pan with the oil until hot. Season the chicken breasts with salt and pepper and fry, skin-side down, for 3-4 minutes until the skin is golden brown and crisp. Turn over the breasts to cook the other side for another 3-4 minutes. Add a few knobs of butter and as it begins to foam, spoon over the butter to baste the chicken breasts. The thickest part of the breasts should feel firm when cooked through. Remove from the pan and leave to rest.

Cut the Jerusalem artichokes into thick slices. In the same pan that you cooked the chicken, melt a few more knobs of butter and add the artichoke slices. Fry for a few minutes each side until golden brown at the sides. Remove from the pan and keep warm.

To make the onion rings, sift the flour, corn flour and salt into a large bowl and make a well in the centre. Using a balloon whisk, mix in the beer or soda until the batter is just smooth.

Heat a deep-fat fryer or a heavy-based saucepan with about 15cm of groundnut oil until hot. (A small piece of bread dropped into it should sizzle immediately and float to the surface.) Deep-fry the onion rings a few at a time. Dust them lightly with flour then lightly coat in the batter. Gently drop the rings into the hot oil and fry until golden brown on both sides. Drain on kitchen paper and repeat with the remaining onion rings.

Toss the baby spinach and Jerusalem artichokes with some vinaigrette, then divide on to individual plates. Thickly slice the chicken breasts and place on top of the leaves. Scatter over the onion rings and drizzle more vinaigrette. Serve at once.

Crab mayonnaise finger sandwiches

2011-01-20T14:18:00.000Z

At any time of year, a quick snack dipped in a tiny bit of luxury to help in the perk me up process really ought to involve a bit of shellfish, and crab - so accessible and not really all that expensive fits the bill. I'd love to be in a position where I could romanticise up daily lingering lunches like this; glass of champagne, copy of The Telegraph and Radio 3 plinking away in the background of my fantasy Thursday lunchtimes. The stark reality, well midweek anyways, is that there are precious weekends right now where this shoe fits, so midweek? Ha! Stick it in a sandwich and grab it when you can...

Thankfully all is not entirely lost, the crab mayonnaise filling is very versatile – fantastic wrapped in lettuce leaves, in mini pastry shells as canapés and on bruschetta, or as I've done with a soft boiled egg and a few salad leaves this time round. Use fresh crabmeat and if you can, and homemade mayonnaise if you will for the best result and flavour.

Serves 4-6

300g white crabmeat
1 shallot, peeled and very finely chopped
½ crisp green apple (e.g., Granny Smith), peeled and finely diced
Small handful of coriander leaves, chopped
2 tbsp wholegrain mustard
6-7 tblsp mayonnaise
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
Squeeze of lime juice
8 medium slices of brown bread

Place the crabmeat in a bowl and pick out any bits of shell. Stir in the shallot, apple and coriander, and then add the mustard and enough mayonnaise to bind the mixture together.

Season with salt, pepper and lime juice. Chill for 20 minutes to allow the mixture to firm up a little.

Spread a thick layer of the crab mixture on to four slices of bread. Sandwich with the remaining pieces of bread. Cut off the crusts and slice each sandwich into three “fingers”. Serve immediately.

Spicy seafood soup

2011-01-18T17:30:00.000Z

...and continuing the theme of spice and broth, yesterdays freezing rain just sealed the deal when deciding what to conjure up for lunch. Feeling a bit low with the world always has me turning to soup, as many will testify, it must simply be the 'Mothers warmth factor' in soup that makes most things seem better all of a sudden. Funnily enough I called my Mum after lunch and endured a tortuous but hilarious thirty minute walk through of receiving and replying to an email I'd just sent her! There will be a time, in the not too distant future when I'll be exasperating my own kids over some new fangled technology.

I don't have a blender at home, so more often than not, my soups tend to be chunky anyway, this seafood number is a good example of bunging it all in, getting your timing right, and serving straight from the pot. The recipe below is tried and tested, but really should only act as a starting point.

Serves 2

2 large shrimp (prawn)

2 boneless fillets from a sea eel

2 pen shell clams

2 ounces (60g) prepared squid

2 large mussels

2 asari clams

2 large clams

½ young corn cob

¼ chingensai (bok choy or pak choi)

15 fluid ounces (440ml) dashi

1 sea bass fillet, cut into chunks

2 tbsp light soy sauce

¼ teaspoon sea salt

2 tbsp sake

1 teaspoon chilli garlic sauce

Coriander leaves

Prepare the main soup ingredients: insert a knife into the back of the shrimp and de-vein. Pour boiling water over it to change partially the surface colour. Plunge the eel into boiling water, immediately drain and plunge into iced water. Extract the pen shell clam from its shell and cut it and the squid into thin slices, about ¹/₁₆in (3 mm) thick. Rinse well the mussel, the asari clams and the clam. Briefly blanch the young corn and the chingensai.

Pour the dashi into a cooking pot, add the main soup ingredients (including the sea bass) and bring to a boil. When the shells open, add the soy sauce, sea salt and sake to taste, and then add the chilli garlic sauce.

Transfer to a soup dish and sprinkle with coriander. I have this little jar of bonito, seaweed and sesame at home which I scattered over too - remarkable flavours.

Make sure that the fish, young corn and chingensai are all cooked and ready to eat at the same time. The shellfish are ready to eat as soon as the shells open.

Korean rice

2011-01-17T17:57:00.001Z

비빔밥

Bibimbop literally means "mixed rice" or "mixed meal" in Korean. It's a popular meal consisting of a bowl of steamed white rice topped with vegetables, beef, a whole egg, and kochujang (Korean chili pepper paste). If you know what you're really doing, then the Kochujang is normally served separately to control its spiciness of this rice dish, failure to do this will result in mouth fire as experiences of late will testify.

A variation of this dish, dolsot bibimbop ("dolsot" meaning "stone pot") is served in a heated stone bowl, in which a raw egg is cooked against the sides of the bowl. Before the rice is placed in the bowl, the bottom of the bowl is coated with sesame oil; consequently, the portion of the rice touching the bowl becomes golden brown and crispy.

Vegetables commonly used in bibimbop include cucumber, courgettes, carrot, white radish, mushrooms, bellflower root, and laver, as well as spinach, soybean sprouts, and bracken fern stems. Tofu, either plain or sauteed, may also be included in the dish. Within both types of bibimbops, all ingredients are typically stirred together thoroughly before eating.

This recipe is a mouthful in both senses, but honestly, properly cooked rice topped with anything from the Korean market will be a very close call towards a good thing indeed. If you feel inclined to make your own kimchi then there's another awesome addition, otherwise buy it in, just as good.

1/4 lb of chopped beef (ground beef is acceptable)

100g bellflower roots (doraji)

50g bean sprouts

1 lettuce leaf

3 shiitake mushrooms

1 sheet of vegetable jelly

1/3 carrot

1 cucumber

1 egg

3 cups sticky rice, steamed

4 tbsp kochujang

1 tblsp sugar

1 tblsp sesame seeds

sesame oil

Wash 3 cups of rice, soak for 30 minutes and drain. Put the rice in a heavy saucepan with a tight fitting lid and add 3 1/3 cups of water, then bring them to a boil. After 10-15 minutes boiling, reduce the heat and simmer with the lid on for 5 minutes. Do not lift the lid while cooking.

Season beef and stir-fry lightly until cooked. Cut cucumbers, carrots and shitake mushrooms into match stick size and shred bellflower roots (doraji) and lettuce leaf. Squeeze out excess water and sprinkle them with salt (not including lettuce leaf).

Add 1 tsp of sesame oil to hot frying pan and stir-fry the cucumber quickly so the colour stays vivid. Spread them on a big plate to cool. Add more sesame oil, then stir-fry bellflower roots, carrots, and mushrooms consecutively.

Place cooked rice in a deep dish and add the prepared ingredients on top of the rice (*For hot stone dolsot bibimbop, heat the stone pot until hot enough to burn the fingers and coat 2 tsp of sesame oil. Place the rice sizzling right into the hot stone pot).

Fry an egg sunny-side-up in a frying pan and place it on top of the dish (*For hot stone dolsot bibimbop, place the raw egg on the side of the hot pot so it can slightly cook).

To make seasoned kochujang paste, combine 4 tablespoons of kochujang, 1 tbsp of sugar, 1 tbsp of sesame seeds and 2 tsp of sesame oil. Mix all ingredients well.

Add seasoned kochujang to taste and mixes it thoroughly with the rice and vegetables before beginning.

For homemade kimchi, have a look here

Onion and coconut flatbreads

2011-01-11T18:55:00.002Z

Thinking of the tragic deluge currently destroying huge swathes of Queensland makes me think of a couple of truly fantastic friends over there, who thankfully are not in any immediate danger but still suffering all the same, takes me oddly to Sri Lanka with Michelle (from the beautiful Yeppoon; you see, it makes sense eventually) and one of the best foreign sorties I think I've ever had.

The food over there is so remarkable in its simplicity, and I struggle to remember where I have ever had dishes with such impact through less fuss. In Sri Lanka, there is naturally a heavy use of coconut oil in their cooking and I am pretty sure there is a tendancy to throw some of the oil into their flatbreads too. You can often find coconut oil in health food stores or in good ethnic groceries. If not, you can substitute it with coconut cream instead. One thing which has always fascinated me is that even the most primitive of kitchens there have some sort of a food processor - this is needed for this recipe to get the right blend of onions, no lumps needed!

Here's me doing mine the other night in a chilly Washington, and below is the master at work last time I was in Sri Lanka.

1 large onion, peeled and finely chopped
200ml water
400g strong flour, plus extra for dusting
2 tsp fine sea salt
50ml coconut oil (or coconut cream)
Vegetable oil, for frying

Place the onion and water in a blender and purée.

Sift the flour and salt into a bowl. Make a well in the centre and add the onion and the coconut oil. Stir the mixture with a butter knife until the dough comes together. (Add a little extra water, a tablespoon at a time, if the mixture seems too dry.)

Place the dough on to a floured board and knead for 5-10 minutes until smooth and elastic. Transfer to a lightly oiled bowl, cover with cling film and leave to rest for 20 minutes.

Divide the dough into eight 50g pieces and shape into round balls. Using a rolling pin, roll out the dough into thin circles and cover with a sheet of baking parchment.

Heat a non stick frying pan over medium heat. One at a time, fry the dough for 3-4 minutes on each side until golden brown at the edges. Drain on kitchen paper and cover immediately with a clean towel. Repeat, cooking the rest of the dough. Serve warm, preferably with a fragrant chicken curry with plenty chilli bite.

Blackened salmon with orange yoghurt sauce

2011-01-07T19:51:00.000Z

Dinner the other night was just this simple; a piece of salmon purposely blackened to within an inch of its poor mistaken life, yoghurt and lemon rice. A plate of sliced cured sausage, and a piece of brie split in half with a bit of truffle and mascarpone stuffed inside. A couple of home made pickles chucked in for good measure, and eating at home has never been quite so rewarding indeed.

Our poor salmon is much maligned, and doesn't really deserve the negativity it gets, but will reward you with a bit of work and creative effort. It was not so long ago really when poaching was the only method we turned to for this fish, but the delicate flavour of salmon really comes through when it is charred brutaly on the outside, all the while protecting the centre to cook effectively with its own steam.

This recipe serves 4 as part of a selection of tapas or 2 as a main course

300g salmon fillet, skinned and boned
2 tblsp vegetable oil
1 tsp dried thyme
1 tsp dried rosemary
1 tsp dried oregano
½ tsp Spanish sweet smoked paprika
½ tsp cayenne pepper
1 garlic clove, peeled and crushed
1 tsp cumin seeds, lightly toasted
1 tsp fine salt

For the citrus yoghurt
300ml Greek yoghurt
zest and juice of one orange
60ml extra virgin olive oil

Cut the prepared salmon fillet into 2.5cm cubes. Coat the salmon in one tablespoon of the vegetable oil and then set aside in a large dish.

Combine the thyme, rosemary, oregano, paprika, cayenne, garlic, cumin seeds and salt in a small bowl. Generously coat the salmon cubes in the spice mixture and leave to sit while you prepare the citrus yoghurt.

Put the yoghurt, orange zest and juice and the olive oil in a bowl and, using a small whisk, combine, then set aside. Heat the remaining vegetable oil in a large, non-stick frying pan and cook the salmon for 3-4 minutes, turning frequently until it's golden all over.

Serve warm with cocktail sticks and the yoghurt sauce for dipping as a canape.

Turkey sandwich

2011-01-05T18:53:00.001Z

The Boxing Day sandwich was a triumph. But now we're back on an even keel, and the New Year well under way, the sandwich we only ever associate with leftovers is making a stand in his own right.

Slices of slightly dry turkey, a crumble of stuffing, a couple of bacon wrapped chipolatas if you're lucky and possibly a sliced cold roast potato or two; all evened out by the token healthy crisp of some salad leaves and a smear of mayonnaise and you no better a sandwich you'll construct all year.

It's all about the moment though isn't it really? I mean, a killer Pimms served on a polo field in Gloucestershire at the height of Summer is not the same beast as the one served up in a smoky bar on Kazinczy Street in Budapest in January. As is the fragrance of a tongue numbing green papaya salad with an attack of lime, fish sauce and chilli utterly enveloping your mouth on the streets of Chiang Mai in blistering July, simply not the same at the Golden Sawadee in Bognor on a rainy Tuesday in November.

As it is, I'm not sure there's a terribly wrong time for an honest sandwich, and have to admit to roasting off a decent sized crown of turkey for just this. Far rather take this approach than anything on offer in the deli section at any time of the year. my favourite sandwich moment of the year, executed in January without leftover stuffing etc. shall be constructed from the below array of bits and pieces. All or some will go in this time round, saving the other options for next time. And believe you me, there will be many of those before the 26th December this year...

Turkey, sliced anywhere up to the thickness of your pinkie, still just warm from roasting.
Soft sourdough bread, cold but fresh - dipped lightly in the turkey roasting juices
Crisp grilled bacon – streaky and smoked preferred
A chutney of some sort - experiment with what takes your fancy, but picalilli gets the nod today
A pickle too - I pickled a gallon of baby onions before Christmas; they're in
Mayonnaise

Salad leaves; crisp green and bitter preferably

Avocado slices have a time and a place on occasion

As does a thin shredding of raw celeriac

A cold beer on the side, and French fries in lieu of the leftover roast spuds

Jingle bells all the way!

Sausage rolls

2010-12-20T18:53:00.001Z

So, last week we had all our pre Christmas parties on that mental last series of entertaining that just everyone tries to cram before people start disappearing off to the quiet comfort of their families. At work we probably knocked out the best part of 3,000 of these little chaps, but the recipe listed below will happily make 20-25 or so depending on how big you cut them. I have to admit being sick of the sight of them, but will no doubt turn just a few more around for the festive souls at home, just because the smell of a freshly baked sausage roll coming out of the oven is something quite effortlessly calming.

30g/1oz butter
100g/3½oz button mushrooms, finely chopped
1 tblsp Worcestershire sauce
1 tsp Tabasco
1 pinch fresh thyme or sage leaves, chopped
450g/1lb pork sausage meat
2 eggs, beaten

salt and freshly ground black pepper
450g/1lb ready-rolled puff pastry

Preheat the oven to 200C/400F/gas mark 6.

Melt the butter in a large pan and gently saute the mushrooms until soft. Transfer to a large bowl.

Add the Worcestershire sauce, Tabasco sauce, thyme or sage and sausage meat and season well with salt and freshly ground black pepper. Mix until thoroughly combined, adding all but a splash of the egg reserved for glazing the top of the finished rolls.

Cut the puff pastry into two long rectangles, assuming the sheet is a standard size of approx 18'' x 13''.

Place a layer of sausage meat mixture down the edge of each pastry rectangle, leaving a thumbs width to begind the fold over, then brush each with beaten egg on the larger edge.

Fold the smaller side of the pastry over onto the egg-washed edge and roll to seal. Press down to seal and trim any excess. Cut each pastry roll into 10 or so small sausage rolls.

Place the sausage rolls onto a baking tray and transfer to the oven to bake for 15-20 minutes, or until crisp and golden and the sausage meat is completely cooked through.

Pink grapefruit and vanilla

2010-11-22T18:15:00.002Z

So here are the two ingredients that happen to be in my top ten must haves knocking around the kitchen: vanilla and grapefruit. I've just received the most delicious package from one of my absolute favourite people ever, Michelle, who sent me them from a wonderful little vanilla grower in Sri Lanka, and they are simply the most heavenly scented vanilla pods I've come across in an extremely long time. Before they were even opened, the smell was remarkable, and reminds me so much of the island, their people and the simplicity they put towards their existence, I cannot wait to go back. Put this with pink grapefruit, which for a reason I'll go into in good time, I can't seem to get enough of right now, and keeping with simplicity, we'll knock up a little sweet refreshment.

This crystalline sorbet has a blissfully tangy, bittersweet flavour. Buying a whole bottle of Angostura bitters for it might seem extravagant, but think of it as a holiday season investment, because it will last for ages. Use it to re-create proper Champagne cocktails, or add a few drops to a glass of tonic water to make one of the few good grown-up non-alcoholic drinks to offer drivers. It's also quite interesting drizzled over roasted root vegetables, too.

Pink grapefruit and vanilla granita

Serves 6-8

500ml freshly squeezed pink grapefruit juice

100g caster sugar

1 fat vanilla pod, split and scraped

2 tsp Angostura bitters

Put a shallow metal tray, such as a scrupulously clean small roasting tin, in the freezer to chill. Whisk the juice, sugar, vanilla seeds and bitters together until the sugar has dissolved.

Throw the scraped vanilla pod into a jar with white sugar and leave to allow the scent to flavour. Use this vanilla sugar in anything from desserts to sweetening your coffee.

Pour the mixture into the cold metal tray and return it to the freezer for 20 minutes before checking. Once ice crystals have started to form around the edges (in my freezer this took 40 mins), gently lift them with a fork into the not so frozen middle part. Return to the freezer.

Repeat the process every 20 minutes until all the mixture is crystallised (allow 1-2 hours). Scrape the crystals into a lidded plastic container and store in the freezer for up to four days. Serve in glass tumblers that have been chilled in the freezer until frosty.

The squash continues

2010-11-14T12:59:00.001Z

The brilliance of using up your fridge leftovers is always a moment of joy. Like rummaging through the wardrobe looking for the first scarf of the winter and coming across the headphones I'd been wondering about for the past six months. Or going to put a new photo in the frame on my desk only to find an old treasure fall out from behind the frame back.

The pleasance of surprise constantly thrills me and no more than the creation of deliciousness from those half eaten meals and odd cling film parcels which ordinarily would eventually end up as bird food on the window ledge at very best. Soup at times like these has to be your best friend indeed.

I tend to always have the semblance of a chicken stock of some description lurking somewhere in the freezer but this is habit for me and makes barely a difference to the end result when water does just fine. I had pretty much all the ingredients below after that butternut squash risotto I made the other day, so this was basically as easy as making soup. A little bowl of this lightly spiced soup makes a warming starter for a winter celebration meal.

Butternut squash soup

Serves 4-6

2 tblsp olive oil
Few knobs of butter
2 onions, peeled and chopped
2 bay leaves
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
About 1 litre hot chicken stock
1 heaped tsp mild curry powder
1 large butternut squash, peeled and cut into small pieces
2 apples, cored and sliced with skin on
4-6 thin rashers of pancetta, halved
Small handful of coriander, leaves chopped
Heat a heavy-based pan with the olive oil and butter, then add the onions, bay leaves and a generous pinch of salt and pepper. Stir well, then cover the pan with a lid and cook over a low heat for 5-7 minutes until the onions begin to soften.

Meanwhile, bring the stock to a simmer in another saucepan. Add the curry powder to the onions and stir for another minute. Tip in the squash and add a little more oil to prevent the squash from scorching too quickly. (It will also give the finished soup a velvety texture.) Cook for about 10-12 minutes over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until the squash is tender and lightly caramelised.

Throw in the apples at this stage and pour in just enough hot stock to cover everything and gently simmer for another 5-10 minutes.

Meanwhile, lay the pancetta in a single layer in a hot non stick frying pan. Fry over medium heat until golden-brown and crisp. Turn over to cook the other side. Drain on kitchen paper and allow to cool slightly.

Fish out and discard the bay leaves. In batches, purée the soup in a food processor or liquidiser until smooth. Return the soup to the pan to reheat. Taste and adjust the seasoning. Ladle the soup into warm bowls and garnish with some chopped coriander and a slice of crispy pancetta on top.

Easy start to Sunday

2010-11-07T19:20:00.001Z

There's nothing quite like an easy start to Sunday, whether it's to recover from the previous evening's frivolities or to prepare for the family to descend for lunch. Breakfast is traditionally the most important meal of the day, but the luxury of a lazy breakfast at the weekends, means it often turns into brunch.

So, if you can't decide whether it's a late breakfast or an early lunch your taste buds are craving opt for something that will cover both.

Eggs, a staple breakfast component for centuries, have had their fair share of bad publicity, but I've yet to truly believe that they can be anything but goodness. They bring life to food, get you started for the day, and feed both the brain and the soul. As long as you have half a dozen eggs in your store cupboard and a decent frying pan you'll always have brunch, and any added extras are just a bonus.

Scrambled eggs, smoked salmon and bagels

Serves 2-3

6 large free range eggs
25g ice cold butter, cut into small dice
1 tblsp crème fraîche
freshly ground sea salt and pepper
Few chives, snipped
2-3 bagels of your choice, toasted

400g smoked salmon slices

Break the eggs into a cold, heavy-based pan, place on the lowest heat possible, and add half the butter. Using a spatula, stir the eggs frequently to combine the yolks with the whites.

As the mixture begins to set, add the remaining butter. The eggs will take about 4-5 minutes to scramble – they should still be soft and quite lumpy. Don’t let them get too hot – keep moving the pan off and back on the heat.

Meanwhile, toast the bagels.

Add the crème fraîche and season the eggs at the last minute, then add the snipped chives. Put the split bagels on warm plates, pile the softly scrambled eggs on top, fold over the smoked salmon and serve immediately.

Butternut squash, mozzarella and caramelised garlic risotto with shallots

2010-11-06T14:47:00.001Z

Serves 4

I love my family, just in the same way the squash and the pumpkin relationship work with each other. With either one of the squash family of vegetables, most recipes that call for a member will work in one shape or another. Squashes generally refer to four species of the genus Cucurbita native to Mexico and Central America: Squashes, Pumpkins, Courgettes and Marrow (or zucchini if you must) and finally Gourds. That chilly time on the cusp of both autumn and winter is true squash time, and having one hanging in my fridge almost makes the season for me. I'm using oven roasted butternut in this risotto today, and should there be any of that and the broth left over, that'll be tomorrow's soup with the addition of a few crispy strips of smoked bacon.

Risotto is a terrific carrier for any of these vegetables, anything rich, creamy and cheesy will accept the bitter roughness often leached from these dudes, soaking it up like a fluffy bath mat.

Once the basics of risotto making is mastered, the flavour combinations can easily be as varied as what you'd put through any pasta, stuff into any sandwich or pile on any pizza. Don't hold back. Make it seasonal. Make it now.

400g butternut squash
olive oil
1 small onion, peeled and diced
55g unsalted butter
200g risotto rice
700ml chicken broth, hot
55g Parmesan, grated
125g buffalo mozzarella, cut into 1cm cubes
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

pesto

1 large bunch fresh basil
3 garlic cloves, peeled
3 tblsp pine nuts, lightly toasted
about 3 tblsp olive oil
3 tblsp freshly grated Parmesan

crispy shallots

55g shallots, peeled and finely sliced
115g plain flour, seasoned vegetable oil for frying

caramelised garlic

16 garlic cloves
200ml chicken broth, hot
25g unsalted butter

Put the basil, garlic and pine nuts in a food processor with a little salt and pepper, work to a paste, and add enough olive oil to produce a loose-textured puree. Remove from the food processor, pour into a bowl and fold in Parmesan.

Dust the shallots in seasoned flour, shake off any excess and deep-fry in vegetable oil at 160°C /320°F. When they are a light golden brown, remove from the oil using a slotted spoon and drain on kitchen paper. Season with a little salt and keep on a warm plate.

Blanch the garlic in a pan of salted boiling water for about 3 minutes, then peel and transfer to a clean pan. Pour off the water and add the chicken broth and butter. Cook until the garlic is soft and the broth is reduced to syrup that coats the cloves. Preheat the oven to 180°C/350°F.

Peel and seed the butternut squash, dice into 1cm cubes and fry in a little olive oil until lightly coloured. Transfer to the oven for 10-12 minutes, until the flesh is tender. Meanwhile, gently sweat the diced onion in the butter until the onion is soft. Add the rice to the onion; raise the heat and cook, stirring, until the rice is shiny and translucent. Lower the heat and begin to add the hot broth, a ladleful at a time, wait for it to be absorbed before adding the next ladleful.

Once the rice is cooked to al dente and of the correct texture, fold in the Parmesan, mozzarella and squash, and cook for 2 minutes more, check and season to taste.

Serve immediately on hot plates, drizzle the pesto around the risotto and top with a small pile of crisp shallots and caramelised garlic cloves. But if you want to speed up the whole process, lose the shallots and garlic, and there's a 30 minute midweek supper with enough leftovers for tomorrow's soup.

Baked pheasant with figs and marsala sauce

2010-11-03T13:14:00.002Z

Serves 4

Just in the same way that the mushrooms are out in force, the feathered game season has hit us hard and fast, with early offerings of pheasant. Some are saying it's a better grouse season than first expected, which bodes well for the next couple of months. I'm as strong an advocate for this whole seasonal eating malarky as I am a wearer of colourful socks, so its a bit of a passion of mine I guess. As much as I'm loving my current city posting in the States, I do miss getting out there with nature and finding my own dinner, little beats it. Even the youngest of pheasant can have quite a powerful aroma and gamey flavour, and is best paired with a strongly flavoured sauce. Caramelised figs cut through the richness in this dish, but you could also do the same with peeled and quartered apples and pears.

75g butter
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 oven-ready pheasants
250ml dry white wine
2 garlic cloves, chopped
500ml good quality chicken stock
6 ripe firm purple figs, halved
2 shallots, chopped
1 tsp plain flour
250ml marsala
2 tblsp of flat leaf parsley, freshly chopped
Handful of toasted walnuts, roughly chopped

Preheat the oven to 180C/Gas 4. Melt two thirds of the butter in a cast-iron casserole dish or roasting pan. Season the pheasants, then sauté in the butter on all sides until lightly golden. Add the wine, garlic and chicken stock and roast in the oven, cooking the birds for 20 minutes on each side. Remove the birds and keep warm. Strain the cooking liquor, then boil until it has reduced by half.

Meanwhile, melt the remaining butter in a frying pan and cook the figs, cut-side down, for 2-3 minutes without turning, until lightly caramelised. Remove the figs, reserving the butter, and set aside.

Add the shallots to the pan and sauté for 8-10 minutes until soft and golden. Sprinkle over the flour, then gradually stir in the marsala. Bring to the boil and reduce by two thirds.

Stir in the remaining cooking liquor and any juices from the pheasants. Cook for about 5 minutes until you have a smooth sauce. Add the figs to the sauce, then simmer gently for 3 minutes. Check for seasoning and stir in the parsley. Carve the pheasant, pour the sauce over and sprinkle with the walnuts. Serve with fried polenta or mashed potato.

For skills, techniques and tips... kitchen how to...

Mushrooms on toast

2010-10-20T16:01:00.001+01:00

Serves 4

The mushrooms are out! I picked a couple of handsome puffballs tucked under the safety of a huge yew tree this morning, and I just feel there's a huge season just about to explode. This really is the time of year when nature shows off some of her more wonderous creations.

A terrific Sunday brunch number here, and with the addition of a poached egg, an awesome start to a lazy day. I love this as it is, but if you’re at the right time of the year when wild mushrooms are in season, or your farmers market has some interesting varieties, do not hold back. Otherwise, good firm all year round varieties will hold up well enough.

Remove the bread element and throw the remainder of this recipe through hot pasta and there’s another dish to add to your repertoire too. Take the same ingredients and throw over a couple of cups of hot stock, cook for another 5 minutes then liquidise and you've got soup!

12 shallots, peeled and thinly sliced

2 tblsp olive oil, plus extra to drizzle

Few thyme sprigs, leaves only

1 garlic clove (unpeeled)

lightly crushed sea salt and black pepper

1 tsp caster sugar

14 oz sliced mushrooms

Few knobs of butter

Splash of sherry vinegar

Handful of flat-leaf parsley, chopped

4 thick slices of rustic white bread

Sauté the shallots in a pan over medium heat with the olive oil, thyme, garlic and seasoning for 3-4 minutes until starting to soften. Add the sugar and increase the heat to high. Stir and cook for a few more minutes until the shallots are lightly caramelised.

Add the mushrooms and butter. Fry for a couple of minutes until lightly browned, then splash in the sherry vinegar and add a little more seasoning. Cook for a minute or two until the liquid has evaporated. Toss in the parsley.

Toast the bread and place a slice on each warm plate. Spoon the shallots and mushrooms on top and drizzle with a little more olive oil to serve, if you like shave over some Parmesan too. I'm actually now pretty freezing, so the soup version gets the nod for lunch...