square, scone, pudding, egg

Nothing much finer, well precious little anyway, than a bite of the homeland. Square sausage, tattie scone, black pudding and a fried egg piled into a well fired morning roll will struggle to be topped for me. 

All rather exotic having driven from the Kingdom of Fife, stocked up in Moffat in the borders, then cooked and devoured in Fulham. That said, at the end of the day, this is as simple and comforting as it gets.

Simple pleasures often evoke the strongest feelings. This is one of those very things I can wait for but can't work out why I've put it off for so long. The ingredients and how they come to be assembled are what helps keep something like this so precious.

Perfect tattie scones

Makes 24 triangles

500g floury potatoes, unpeeled

50g butter

125g plain flour, plus extra to dust

Put the potatoes in a pan, cover with water, salt generously and bring to the boil. Simmer until cooked through, then drain well and return to the hot pan for a minute to dry off. Peel off the skins as soon as you can handle them.

Add 40g butter and mash, and then stir in the flour and season to taste. Roll out the dough on a lightly floured surface to about 5mm thick, and then cut around a side plate to shape. Dust lightly with flour and prick all over with a fork.

Heat the remaining butter in a griddle or large heavy based frying pan over a medium-high heat and then fry until golden on both sides (about 3-5 minutes).

Cut into triangles and serve immediately, or cool in a tea towel for later.

a half decent hummous

Is it hummous, hummus, hommos, humos, hommus or hoummos even? It certainly isn't humus, we know that for sure. Weirdly my spellcheck only recognises hummus. It's now actually having a problem with my recognises, but I'm refusing to put a z in there.

Never tire of it, can eat it for ever, and it also does the business in so many other ways other than just jabbing some arabic bread into a pot of the stuff.

Hummous

Serves a few as just one element of a mezze (or is it mezzeh or meze even?) spread, but make sure it always features

225g tinned chickpeas
6 tblsp tahini paste
2 cloves of garlic, peeled
6 tblsp lemon juice
3 tblsp olive oil
cayenne pepper
freshly ground black pepper
salt
olive oil, for drizzling

Whizz up the chickpeas in a food processor or blender with a little of the liquid from the can until they are smooth.

Add the tahini, garlic, lemon juice and olive oil and work in the processor or blender until very smooth. Season with the peppers and salt. Turn into a dish, scraping out all of the hummous from the mixer bowl with a rubber spatula.

Flatten the top slightly, then drizzle over some olive oil and serve with warm pitta bread.

the home style chicken curry

You can't really go wrong cooking this curry unless you leave the pot on the stove and go on off to Sri Lanka on holiday expecting to be ticking away nicely upon return. I've found this always best with pieces of thigh meat, still on the bone; if it has to be boneless, again thigh meat will yield better results. Adding the ginger toward the end is a sweet and unique step that does nothing less than to enhance the flavour. I have cooked variations of this this recipe a thousand times - and it just keeps getting better. I brought back some incredible garam masala from my latest visit to the Indian Ocean, with 22 different spices, and most of them still whole. This mixture crushed just before use releases the most incredible headspace of aromas and flavours; something similar is well worth seeking out where possible.

 

Home style chicken curry

 

Serves 4

 

3 tsp vegetable oil
1 bay leaf
4 green cardamom, 2.5cm cinnamon stick, 10-12 black peppercorns, 1 tsp cumin seeds and 2 cloves all pounded together with a pestle and mortar
250g onions, finely sliced
½ tsp garlic, minced to a paste
½ tsp red chilli powder
1 tsp coriander powder
½ tsp turmeric powder
salt to taste
100g tomatoes, roughly chopped
1 tsp tomato paste
600g chicken, cut into 2.5cm chunks
½ tsp garam masala
2 tsp coriander leaves, chopped
1 tsp ginger, finely chopped

 

Heat the oil in a pan, add the bay leaf and pounded spices, and stir until the spices crackle and they change colour. Add the onions and sauté until golden brown, then add the garlic paste. Stir continuously and keep scraping the bottom of the pan to avoid the mix getting burnt.

 

Add the powdered spices, but not the garam masala. Mix quickly without letting the spices get burnt at the bottom.

 

Add salt, the tomatoes and the paste and cook on slow heat, stirring slowly. As the tomatoes melt to form a sauce, add the chicken and cook on a slow heat for 20-25 minutes until the chicken is almost cooked.

 

Sprinkle on the garam masala and simmer to finish cooking. Add coriander and sprinkle over ginger.

daal in the lanka

Every time I attempt to make this incredibly simple and fragrant Sri Lankan dish, I make it ever so slightly differently. Not because I'm in the pursuit of fancy, it just happens like that. Every time Nalaka makes it, it's exactly the same, which is brilliant. Sometimes I put ground chilli in, sometimes green and red chillies. Occasionally some crispy fried garlic shavings, maybe some mint and coriander too. Great with rice, great as a replacement to rice, great on its own, better the way he does it.

Daal, the way Nalaka makes it, I think

Serves 2

200g yellow split peas
1 small onion
6 garlic cloves
2 small, hot green chillies

2 tsp cinnamon bits
1 tsp ground turmeric

2 tsp curry powder
salt and black pepper

12 curry leaves

1 rampa leaf (pandan)

200ml thin coconut milk

200ml thick coconut milk

 

Rinse the split peas in cold water. Peel and finely slice the onion. Peel and cut the garlic in half, chop the chillies into little strips.

Put the peas, onion, chilli, garlic, cinnamon, turmeric, curry powder, leaves, salt and black pepper in with the peas and cover with the thin coconut milk. Bring to the boil, cover with a lid then simmer for 15-20 minutes until the pulses are softening.

 

To finish, add the thicker coconut milk and bring back to a faster simmer with the lid off, cooking until all the milk has absorbed.

 

You can always peel and finely slice more garlic, cook till golden and lightly crisp in a shallow pan with oil, then stir into the daal with a handful of chopped coriander leaves. Nalaka doesn't, so there we have it.

 

mackerel season and the oily fish right thing to do

What's not to love about doing a spot of fishing for the likes of seabass? Of course its a top fish we all want, a prize catch if ever there was. Undoubtedly though, if bass is the target, the likelihood of hitting a run of mackerel at this time of the year scores pretty high, so being prepared for it will always come in quite handy. The way things are going out there on the high seas also brings to mind the fact that little oily wonders in the shape of mackerel should really be in our baskets, on our plates and in our bellies when they're coming out the water in relative abundance. Dead healthy, really quick to prepare, even quicker to cook. What's not to love about a fresh mackerel indeed?

 

Seared mackerel fillet with red onion marmalade

 

Serves 4

4 mackerel fillets, about 100g each

Olive oil, for brushing the fish

1 lime

Small bunch of chives, to garnish

 

For the onion marmalade

50g salted butter

Splash of olive oil

4 red onions, finely sliced

Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

150ml sherry vinegar

25g dark soft brown sugar

50g pomegranate seeds

 

To make the onion marmalade, melt the butter with the olive oil in a saucepan and add the onions together with a good pinch of salt and pepper. Cook over a medium heat for about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally until well softened, being careful not to allow the onions to burn or colour too much.

 

Add the vinegar, sugar, and pomegranate, bring to the boil, reduce the heat and then simmer gently for about 30 minutes, uncovered, or until the marmalade comes together as a mass. Turn out into a dish and keep warm at the side of the hob.

 

Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 200°C/400°F/Gas 6. Heat an ovenproof frying pan to very hot, brush the mackerel fillets on both sides with a little olive oil and lay in the pan, skin-side down. After 3 minutes, sprinkle the flesh side of the fillets with a little salt and pepper and transfer the pan to the oven for 2–3 minutes, depending on the thickness of the fish, until cooked through.

 

Cut the lime in half and then cut four thin slices from the middle. Make a slit in each slice from the centre to the outside edge and give each a half twist. Finely pare the zest from the remaining lime.

 

Place one mackerel fillet onto each serving plate, squeeze the lime juice over and sprinkle with a little of the zest. Place a spoonful of the onion marmalade alongside and garnish with 2 or 3 chives and a twist of lime

gyoza last thing on a Brisbane Sunday night

There’s always a right time to leave the last dumpling on a plate. Any dumpling. No matter how good it is. Some examples of when, quite exactly, one might consider the notion that one has hung around a litle too long could include, but not confined to:

 

1) Your host has to ask you to pay your bill and leave now

2) You’re actually properly tired

3) Eat another gyoza and you'll take someone down with you on the way out

4) You’re properly drunk on great Japanese beer and well on your way to memorably embarrassing yourself and anybody associated with you

5) You’re heading up the last straggle of diners and staying longer would make you seem tragic or desperate

6) Someone slightly more tragic looking than you has just arrived and no possible good can come from you being in the same restaurant with them

7) There’s better gyoza at a new place just opened up down the street

8) Someone really smart kicks the karaoke system into life

9) There is more than one left on the plate

 

the beetrot curry in Sri Lanka, sort of but not really at all

I can't do it nearly as authentic here as I have tasted there, so I'm not going to bother actually worrying about it. Beetroot in any way shape or form is a treat, so simply dressing it up a little makes for something really quite nice indeed

Roasted pumpkin and beetroot with goat’s cheese

Serves 4

200g pumpkin
100g beetroot
20g goats cheese
1 sprig fresh thyme
20ml olive oil
10ml red wine vinegar
10g rocket
Salt and pepper

Preheat the oven to 180c, wash the beetroot and pat dry, rub with a touch of olive oil and put in the oven roast for 30 minutes or until tender. Remove from the oven allow to cool down slightly, then peel and cut into quarters and set aside

Cut the pumpkin in half; remove the seeds and slice into 5mm pieces. Season with salt and pepper and put onto a lightly oiled griddle until golden brown on both sides

Transfer the pumpkin to a baking tray and put into the oven to roast for 8 minutes or so until tender

Mix the red vinegar olive oil, and thyme in a bowl then put the beetroot in to marinate, seasoning with salt and pepper

Place the pumpkin in the centre of the plate then top with the beetroot, sprinkle with grated goats cheese and garnish with rocket; finally drizzle with the remaining vinegar dressing

the spice of sri lanka

 

The place is properly magical, the food all consuming, the people curiously incredible and hypnotic. The island where your watch, quite literally, stands still for a few brilliant moments in time

Sri Lankan fish curry

 

Serves 4

 

900g seer fish fillet, or any firm white fish although salmon will do just fine

1 tblsp sunflower oil

1 large onion, chopped

4 garlic cloves, finely chopped

8 fresh curry leaves

½ tsp ground turmeric

1 tsp chilli powder

2 tblsp sri lankan curry powder (see below)

2 medium-sized tomatoes, skinned and chopped

50ml tamarind liquid

400ml coconut milk

Salt

Mango or lime chutney to serve

 

For the Sri Lankan curry powder

2½ tblsp coriander seeds

1 tblsp cumin seed

1½ tsp fennel seeds

A healthy pinch of fenugreek seed

2.5cm piece cinnamon stick

3 cloves

2 green cardamom pods

6 black peppercorns

 

For the curry powder, toast everything over a high heat in a dry pan and then simply grind everything together in a spice grinder into a fine powder. Store in a screw top jar

 

Rinse the fish under cold water and dry on kitchen paper. Heat the oil in a large, shallow pan, add the onion, garlic, curry leaves and fry gently for 7-10 minutes until the onions are soft and only just turning lightly golden

 

Add the turmeric, chilli powder and 2 tblsp of the Sri Lankan curry powder and fry for 1-2 minutes. Add the tomatoes, tamarind liquid, coconut milk and 1 tsp of salt and simmer gently for 15 minutes

 

Add the fish to the pan and spoon some of the sauce over the top of the fish. Turn the heat right down and simmer gently for 5 minutes, then cover the pan and set aside for 30 minutes. The fish needs to take in the flavour of the sauce and after 30 minutes should be cooked through - but if not, just return to the heat for a few more minutes until it is. Serve with some steamed basmati rice and some poppadoms should you feel inclined to do so

 

cold noodle and tomato salad for the weekend

This here little bowl of lip smacking fun; an utter summer jumble of crunchy textures and fresh, bright flavours rather than a hot pot of msg enhanced amusement might be a box tick should the weather be right, and the time does much the same this weekend. That is unless someone else is bringing this together for you, and you're in exotic climes already. Cold noodles sadly don't get nearly the attention they deserve, more often than not due to weak seasoning. What's not to disagree with big punchy hits of acid, salt and sugar?

My eyes are shut, I'm in Chiang Mai, that's my fourth Tiger right there, I can hear the tac tac of pestle to mortar bringing my salad together, I'm in dreamland.

Serves 4

60g rice noodles
a large handful sprouted seeds
1 medium hot red chilli
1 red or orange pepper
 ½ cucumber
100g peas , shelled weight
125g cherry tomatoes
100g salted, roasted cashews
a small bunch coriander
4 sprigs mint

For the dressing:
3 tblsp lime juice
3 tblsp nam pla (Thai fish sauce)
1 tsp caster sugar 

Put the noodles into a heatproof bowl then pour boiling water from the kettle over them and leave for 2 minutes (or whatever it says on the packet). Drain the noodles and let them cool in a colander under cold running water. Drain thoroughly.

Rinse the sprouted seeds under cold running water, drain them, then tip into a mixing bowl. Finely chop the chilli and thinly slice the pepper then add them to the sprouted seeds. Peel, core and cut the cucumber into small dice, then add to the seeds with the raw peas. 

Halve the cherry tomatoes and add them to the bowl with the salted cashews and roughly chopped coriander and mint leaves, gently tossing the ingredients together with the drained noodles.

Make the dressing: mix together the lime juice, fish sauce and sugar. Drain the noodles and add them to the other ingredients, then toss them with the dressing. Chill for a good half-hour before serving with the coldest beer your teeth can cope with.

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

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.

Nasi return Goreng

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

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.