Abercrombie & Feast

During my sophomore year at university, a little Thursday night ritual immerged.  Tired from a week of classes and studying, a group of 19-20 year old girls would gather, wearing pastel stripped pyjama bottoms with our university sweatshirts, in a cramped dorm room strewn with socks and text books.  We’d crowd onto the single beds, cue up Legally Blonde on a tiny television and order a large pepperoni pizza from Pizza Hut. 

 By the time Elle Woods had been accepted to Harvard our pizza had arrived.  We’d eat the pizza on jewel coloured plastic plates and drink Diet Coke that we had to buy off campus (I lived on a Pepsi sponsored campus… it haunts me still) while we watched and gossiped and laughed and laughed. 

 I’ve eaten pizza from Pizza Hut a few times since, but it’s never tasted as good as it did then.  I’m sure it was more about being cozy and happy and 20 years old surrounded by friends, but I thought that pizza tasted amazing. 

 But then, doesn’t all pizza taste amazing?  Bread and cheese and tomatoes?  Toppings like olives and pepperoni and onions?  How could you possibly go wrong with pizza?

 I’ve come along way since those heady pizza-ordering Legally-Blonde watching days in the dorm.  You might even say that I’ve graduated (pun intended) on from Pizza Hut pizza. 

 These days it’s homemade pizza on the couch in our flat, drinking a beer and watching TopChef with my husband.  The only part of the picture that hasn’t changed…. I’m still wearing my university sweatshirt.  Always Orange!

Pizza dough
adapted from Deb at smittenkitchen.com

makes dough for 2 pizzas

2 cups plain flour
1 cup whole wheat flour
2 tsp salt
1 pinch dried chilli flakes (optional)
1 1/2 tsp active dry yeast
1 cup luke warm water (plus one or two tbs more if needed)
2 tbs olive oil

Stir the flours, salt, chilli flakes and dry yeast in a large bowl.  Add the water and the olive oil and stir until it begins to come together and form a loose dough ball. 

At this point you can either dump the dough out onto a floured surface to knead, or you can do what I do and just knead it right in the bowl you’ve mixed the ingredients in.  Knead it for just a minute or so, until the dough comes together in a fairly smooth ball.  Then spread a little extra olive oil around the sides and bottom of the bowl.  Place the dough in the bowl and cover with a damp towel or cling flim for an hour or two, or until the dough has doubled in size. 

Once the dough size has doubled, knead the dough gently again for a minute to knock the air out of it.  Roll the dough into ball shape and leave to rise for 30 more minutes. 

Preheat your oven to its very highest temperature.  Sprinkle your baking sheet with some cornmeal or semolina. 

Divide your dough in half and roll one half out as thin as you’d like it.  We prefer it pretty thin-crust, so I rolled mine out quite a bit.  However, I did not manage to roll mine out into a perfect circle.  Life’s too short to stress about that. 

Once you’ve got the dough rolled out, place it on the baking sheet that you sprinkled with cornmeal.  Then, you can top it with whatever your little heart desires.  We had spicy tomato sauce, fresh mozzarella, pepperoni, carmelised onions and green olives. 

Place the baking pan in the oven for about 10-15 minutes or until the toppings are a little charred and the dough is cooked through.

I am totally feeling yellow this month.  Feeling yellow is the opposite of feeling blue!  Yellow is bright and happy and hopeful and optimistic.  Yellow is Spring and daffodils and piles of lemons and creamy butter.  If you could taste yellow it would taste tangy and sweet and rich.  Just like this cake. 

If there was ever a perfect cake for Spring, this would be it.  Made with lots of lemon zest and lemon juice and pale yellow butter, this is what Spring should taste like.  I made this cake on a grey and rainy Spring day here in southern England (are there any other kinds of Spring days in England??) and the sharp, peppy smell as it baked made our flat seem almost, almost sunny. 

I like this recipe because it’s super easy and you could adapt it almost endlessly.  Add some orange zest with the lemon zest, add a few tsps of fresh thyme or mint to the batter, substitute some of the lemon juice in the glaze with a bit of Cointreau.  The possibilities for this happy cake are wide open. 

Lemon cake
from Nigella’s Recipes

120g butter
180g caster sugar
180g self-raising flour
2 eggs
1/2 cup milk
2 lemons, zest and juice
extra 2 tbs caster sugar

Preheat your oven to 180C.  Butter a loaf tin very well and set aside. 

Cream together the butter and sugar until very pale and fluffy.  Add the lemon zest, flour, eggs and milk and beat until combined and smooth.

Pour the batter into the prepared loaf tin.  Place in the oven for about an hour, or until the cake is pale golden and a toothpick comes out clean.

While the cake is baking, combine the lemon juice and remaining caster sugar. 

When the cake comes out of the oven, slowly pour the lemon juice mixture over the cake while it’s still warm, but not too hot.  Allow the cake to cool slightly, then remove from the loaf tin and allow to cool completely before serving. 

Today is the first day of Spring!  It’s official. There are daffodils on our table and lighter jackets by the door, waiting for us to take walks in the fine Spring mist.  Oh, it’s gorgeous!

But the things is, no one seems to have told the vegetables.  By this point in the year I’m OVER root vegetables.  I don’t want any more parsnips for a while.  I’ll skip the fennel for a bit, thanks.

When our bi-weekly organic vegetable delivery box showed up on the doorstep this Thursday, I was super excited!  I had visions of purple sprouting broccoli and the first soft spring lettuces.  Instead I got cabbage, fennel, cauliflower and potatoes.  The perfect winter line-up.  There were a few radishes, still wearing their frilly leafy tops that look like fancy hats for Sunday church, so I rejoiced in those.

What to do with a box of veg that screams WINTER! and a cook that demands SPRING!?  You make this slaw, of course.  How silly of me to assume that I would have to use those cold weather stand-bys in the same old ways… roasted, braised, stuck in a stew.  Instead, I shredded the cauliflower, cabbage and radishes very finely and tossed them together with some brightly flavoured extras to make a sharp, tangy and very girly coloured slaw. 

I just love these colours, the way that the purple of the cabbage has turned the pristine white cauliflower into a very pale lavendar shade, with the bring pink edges of the radishes peeking out.  How very Spring of you, my lovely Winter veg! 

Cabbage, Cauliflower and Radish Spring Slaw
This is very similar to a salad recipe I’ve posted here before.  I used some new veggies and I think I like this version just as much as the original. 

Serves 4-6 as a side dish

 1/2 a small head of purple cabbage, shredded
1 small head of cauliflower, shredded
5-6 radishes, sliced into very thin rounds
2 spring onions, finely chopped
10-12 green olives, finely chopped
1 clove of garlic, minced extremely finely
1/4 cup plain yoghurt
3 tbs dijion mustard
2 tbs white wine vinegar
1/4 cup olive oil
salt and pepper to taste

I usually shred all these vegetables by hand, using a sharp knife, but you can certainly pop them in the food processor if you’re low on time.  It will just change the texture of the slaw a little bit.

To shred the cabbage, I cut it into quarters and use two of those quarters.  Just cut out the hard core and slice the cabbage into very thin slices. 

To shred the cauliflower, cut it into quarters.  Then cut out the hard core and slice the florets into very thin slices. 

Too easy!

Combine the shredded cabbage and cauliflower with the radishes and toss, to break up any big chunks of cabbage or cauliflower.  Then add the spring onions and the olives and toss well to combine all the ingredients. 

If you’re making the slaw to be eaten later you could put it away at this stage and just add the dressing before you serve it.

To make the dressing, combine the minced garlic with the yoghurt in a medium sized bowl and stir well to combine.  Then add in the mustard and the vinegar and stir again.  Finally, drizzle in the olive oil slowly, stirring with a fork the whole time.  When you’re done you should have a thick dressing that coats the back of a spoon. 

Taste the dressing for seasoning.  If it’s too sour, add a touch more yoghurt or olive oil.  If it’s too bland, add a bit more mustard or vinegar.  Make it taste delicious to YOU!  Then pour the dressing over the veg and toss very well to combine.  Taste for salt.  I didn’t add any salt because the olives in the slaw are very salty, but you might need some. 

Serve cold.

There seems to be a direct correlation between the slowly rising temperatures of Spring and the rapidly increasing number of appointments on my calendar. Each day is a little bit warmer, and a little bit busier than the last.

Evenings spent at home in front of the telly with slow-cooked beef and heavy red wine just don’t sound as appealing now that it stays light after 5pm. Instead, I find myself dreamily buying crispy fresh radishes and planning evenings spent with friends in front of a barbeque with cold glasses of sauvignon blanc.

My friends all seem to feel the same way, hence the increasing number of calendar entries I seem to have. Suddenly, people want to plan a drink after work, with the sunlight still streaming in the pub windows. Mid-week dinner parties have gone from a rare occurrence to a regular fixture on our social schedules. Everyone seems to be up and out earlier on weekend mornings, filling up the High Street with their arms full of daffodils from the flower shop and shopping bags full of pastel coloured spring clothes. We’ve all come out of hibernation and we have the new dresses to prove it!

If, like me, your diaries have filled up in the past few weeks, I urge you to set aside a little time to make this satay chicken. This is one of the “pernickety” recipes I was telling you about a few weeks ago. It takes a little time and a little fiddling, but it’s the perfect food for this time of year. The flavours are bright and bold, but not too spicy.

I used my griddle pan for the chicken, since it’s not quite barbeque season yet here in southern England, but if you live somewhere warmer, this chicken is ideal to throw on the barbie for your first cook-out of the season. It’s also the perfect food to share with friends as the evenings get warmer and the beverages get colder. I hope you enjoy the Spring!

*Sorry about the quality of the food photos around here lately.  Our nice camera has been sick, so I’ve been shooting with the not-so-nice one. 

Chicken Satay
adapted from Rick Stein’s Far Eastern Odyssey

If you don’t feel like making the peanut sauce, this chicken is amazing just marinated and simply grilled.  But, you should try the peanut sauce.  I made it and loved it so much I was slathering it on toast and crackers!

Serves 4 as a main or 6 as a starter

For the chicken:
500 grams boneless / skinless chicken breasts
2 tbs vegetable oil
1 tbs sesame oil
50g shallots, finely chopped
20g garlic, finely chopped
1 tbs soy sauce
2 tsp coarsely ground black pepper
3-4 kaffir lime leaves, shredded

Cut the chicken into bite-sized pieces and set aside.

In a small pot, heat the oils over a medium heat.  Add the chopped shallots and fry slowly until they are golden.  Add the garlic for the last 30 seconds, then remove the pan from the heat.  Tip the oil, shallots and garlic into a bowl large enough to fit all the chicken, and allow to cool.

Once the oil is cool add the soy sauce, black pepper and lime leaves.  Add the chicken to this mixture and stir to make sure the chicken is very well coated.  Leave the chicken to marinate in this mixture for at least 10 minutes, but preferably close to an hour. 

Heat the barbeque or your griddle pan to medium high heatl.  Brush the grill / griddle with some vegetable oil before adding the chicken.  Cook the chicken for about 7-8 minutes, turning once, until it’s all cooked through.  Don’t over cook!  Serve with the peanut sauce.

For the peanut sauce:
2 dried red chillis, soaked in hot water for 30 mins and then drained and chopped
1 tbs vegetable oil
50g shallots, finely chopped
20g garlic, finely chopped
1 fresh red chilli (preferably bird’s eye), finely chopped
40g canned chopped tomato
2 tsp brown sugar
150ml coconut milk
150g peanuts, roasted
1 tbs soy sauce
2 tbs lime juice

Heat the oil in a small pan over low heat.  You can use the same pan you used to make the chicken marinade.  Add the shallots and garlic and fry until soft and pale golden.  Add the chopped dried chillis, fresh chilli and tomato and cook for 2-3 minutes. 

Stir in the sugar and the coconut milk.  Leave to simmer for 2 minutes until it has reduced and is slightly thicker. 

While the sauce is reducing, place the peanuts into a small food processor and process until finely chopped.  Stir the peanuts into the sauce, along with the soy sauce and the lime juice.  Season to taste with a little bit of salt. 

Andy likes his satay sauce to be very coconut-y and fairly smooth, so I added a bit extra coconut milk to mine and then blended the sauce in my mini food processor before serving it.  Gorgeous!

We’ve just returned from a week in Paris, where we ate and drank and walked and swooned in equal amounts. It’s easy to love Paris… it’s easy to be in love in Paris. The thing is, there’s pretty much nothing I could write here about Paris that hasn’t already been written by someone else… probably someone who is a better writer than I am.

I could tell you about how romantic Paris is, how refined the people seem, how beautifully dressed the women are or how wonderful a plate of well cooked confit de canard tastes with a carafe of house wine… but you’ve probably heard it all before. Writers love to wax lyrical about Paris.

But… maybe you haven’t heard so much about sauce moutarde? Maybe this one thing, this tiny taste of Paris, hasn’t been written about a million times? Maybe I could share something unique with you? Maybe. Maybe not. But either way, I have to tell you about this sauce.

We were in a small, very local café for a late lunch. It was sunny and there were several men in dark suits, speaking loudly to each other in French and finishing up their plates of steak frites and carafes of wine before heading back to the office for the afternoon. We dropped into our seats and ordered our own carafe of wine. Nibbled on the basket of baguette we were brought and waited for our plates of steak frites, which arrived piping hot with small dollops of sauce moutarde on the side.

The steaks were tender and perfectly cooked. The frites were hot and salty and guiltily satisfying.

But, the sauce… oh, the sauce.

It was dreamy. It was very sharp, almost spicy from the amount of Dijon mustard used, but the heat was tempered by crème fraiche and white wine. It was divine. We kept eating long after we were full, just so we didn’t leave any of the sauce. When we ran out of frites, we dipped our remaining bits of baguette in the sauce. After we had finished the baguette and decided that we weren’t quite desperate enough to lick the plates, I asked the waiter, in my terribly limited French, how to make the sauce.

He explained the process in detail, and in rapid fire French. I followed about half of what he said, nodding and smiling through the rest. I couldn’t wait to get home to make my own sauce moutarde, and slather it on everything! I made the sauce last night, to go on a piece of poached salmon. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to make it correctly, that I would come up with a weaker version and be disappointed that I couldn’t recreate the sauce of my Parisian dreams.

But, I needn’t have worried. The waiter in the café clearly knew what he was talking about, and managed to explain it so well that even an American with inadequate French skills could follow along. The sauce I made at home was just like the sauce moutarde we had in the café in Paris and it made me both happy that I had a piece of Paris right there on my plate, and sad that I wasn’t still there in that café, with a carafe of red wine to go with my dinner.

 Sauce moutarde

1 shallot, finely chopped
1 tbs butter
¼ cup dry white wine
3-4 heaping tablespoons good Dijon mustard, or more to taste
¼ cup crème fraiche
1 tbs chopped tarragon salt to taste

In a small sauce pan over low heat, melt the butter. Add the shallots to the butter and allow to soften, but not brown, very slowly. This will probably take about 5 mins, but keep your eye on them.

Once the shallots are cooked, add the wine and allow to cook for 1 minute. Then add the mustard to the pan and whisk. You want the mustard, wine and shallots to come together to a thick, creamy consistency. This might take a minute, keep whisking.

Once you’ve whisked in the mustard, whisk in the crème fraiche. Keep whisking until the crème fraiche is completely incorporated and the sauce is very smooth.

To thicken up the sauce, leave it on the lowest heat possible, whisking frequently, for about 15 minutes. Add the chopped tarragon and whisk for a minute.

Then, taste the sauce. It should be very sharp and tangy, but not taste of solely mustard. If it’s too sharp / mustardy, whisk in a little more crème fraiche. If it’s not sharp enough, or tastes overly creamy, add a bit more mustard.

This sauce can be served warm or at room temperature. It is gorgeous on fish, steaks or chicken.

I was chatting with a friend yesterday about chefs who write really pernickety recipes. Recipes that call for about 12 more steps than seem necessary… “toast the almonds before adding them to the mixture”, “soak the dried chilli in hot water for 10 minutes before chopping it”, “collect a fresh eye of newt to include in your stew”… those kinds of steps.

Some chefs are notorious for writing very prescriptive, slightly fussy recipes. I generally avoid recipes by those chefs, preferring to throw caution and flour to the wind. But in the past week I’ve made two recipes by chefs I have previously admired, but avoided due to their finicky natures, and in both cases I have been thrilled with the outcomes.

Chef #1- Delia Smith. I know, I know. Delia can do no wrong, Delia is a saint, Delia knows everything and I know nothing. All of that is true, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that her recipes often look complicated to me. I once read an article in a cooking magazine that quoted Delia as saying that when you’re making a cake, if recipe calls for a certain size / shape pan and you don’t have that pan you’re basically setting yourself up to fail from the start. I found this very disheartening. I don’t really own many pans and I can’t afford to run out and buy a new cake tin every time a recipe calls for a slightly different size. Since reading that article I have admired Delia from afar, but assumed that her recipes would require a lot of time and specialised equipment that I don’t have.

Well, I was right about one part of that. The Delia’s carrot cake recipe did take a while to finish, but it didn’t require any kitchen equipment more complicated than a box grater. It was also, if I may say so, one of the nicest cakes I have ever made, ever. I didn’t have the correct sized cake pan that Delia called for, so I made my carrot cake in a loaf tin instead. It took about twice as long to cook, but once it was done it was delicious… moist and full of soft sultanas and warming spices.

There were a few extra steps in this recipe that I didn’t think were necessary, but I followed the instructions and I’m really pleased that I did. The extra steps (such as toasting the almonds before adding them to the batter) really did enhance the final product. It was worth it!

I’ll tell you in a few days about the second pernickety recipe I tried recently. It was an even bigger success than the amazing carrot cake. I’m starting to think there’s something behind all of these really fussy recipes- great food.

Carrot Cake with Cinnamon Cream Cheese Frosting
adapted from Delia’s Vegetarian Collection

For the cake
150g (1 1/4) whole wheat flour
50g (a little less than 1/2 cup) plain flour
2 tsps cinnamon
1 tsp nutmeg
1 tsp bicarb of soda (baking soda)
175g (about 3/4 cup) light brown sugar
2 large eggs
150ml (5 fl oz) light vegetable oil such as sunflower oil
200g (a little more than a cup and a half) of peeled and grated carrot
2 handfuls of raisins
50g (1/3 cup) chopped almonds plus extra for decoration

For the frosting
250g cream cheese, room temp
100g butter, room temp
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tsp vanilla extract
250g icing sugar

Begin by placing the almonds in a dry frying pan and placing over a medium heat.  Toast the almonds until they are golden brown and fragrant, but watch them carefully as they will burn quickly.  When the almonds are toasted, remove them from the pan so they don’t continue cooking in the residual heat. 

Preheat the oven to gas mark 3, down to gas mark 3, 325°F, 170°C and grease your cake pan (or loaf pan) with butter. 

To make the cake, whisk the sugar, eggs and oil together in a bowl with an electric hand whisk for 2-3 minutes, then check that there is no sugar left undissolved.

Now sift the flour, spices and bicarb of soda into the bowl, tipping in the bits of bran left in the sieve.  Then stir all this in gently, followed by the remaining cake ingredients. 

Tip the batter into the prepared cake tin.  Bake in the centre of the preheated oven for 35-45 minutes.  Use a skewer to check whether the cake is done. 

While the cake is baking, make the cinnamon cream cheese frosting.  Beat the cream cheese, butter, cinamon and vanilla in a bowl until light and fluffy.  Sift in the icing sugar and mix until smooth.  Top the cooled cake with this frosting and a sprinkling of chopped almonds. 

You know how they say that chicken soup is Jewish penicillin?  Well this soup (yes!  another soup… I know!) could be considered Thai penicillin.  Warm and aromatic and full of things that are guaranteed to make you feel better if you’ve got a bit of the sniffles, this soup is spicy medicine in a bowl.

Thai food has to be some of my favourite food ever.  I love the chillis and garlic and piles of coriander that are used to flavour the food.  I adore the scent of fresh ginger and lemongrass.  When this soup is bubbling away my house smells like a restaurant in Bangkok, rather than a little flat in rainy, cold England. 

Some of the ingredients in this soup may be a bit hard to find for people (like me!) who live in smaller towns.  I made a trip to the nearest city over the holiday break and went to the Chinese grocery store.  I found almost everything I needed to whip up authentic Thai flavours at home.  So, to get my Thai food-fix I can either drive 20 minutes and cook for myself, or take an 11 hour flight.  I know which I’d rather do (frequent flyer points!), but this soup makes it bearable on days when all I can manage is the drive. 

Thai chicken noodle soup
The measurements I’m giving you for this soup are the ones that I use, but you might not want your soup to be exactly the same.  The key to this soup is to include more of what you like and less of what you don’t. 

Serves 3-4

For the soup:
2 smallish chicken breasts
1 inch of ginger, peeled and left whole
1 stalk of lemongrass, cut into pieces
3 kaffir lime leaves, torn to release their oils
1 handful of coriander (cilantro) roots and stalks
1 birds eye chilli
3 tbs soy sauce
3 tbs chilli oil
1 tsp sesame oil
1 chicken flavoured stock cube
2 carrots, cut into thick strips
2 handfuls of snow peas or sugar snap peas, cut into matchsticks
2 large button mushrooms, thinly sliced across
1/2 package of rice noodles

For the garnish
fresh ginger, cut into very fine matchsticks
fresh chillis, chopped
4 small radishes, sliced very finely into rounds
one large handful of coriander (cilantro) leaves, roughly chopped

Start by placing the chicken breast into a large stock pot and covering with plenty of cold water- enough to almost fill the pot.  Then add the ginger, lemongrass, lime leaves, coriander stalks, chilli, soy sauce, chilli oil and sesame oil to the water.  Bring this mixture to a gentle simmer and cook for 20-25 minutes. 

Remove the chicken breasts and bring the broth to a rapid boil.  Crumble in the stock cube and allow to dissolve.  Taste the broth.  You want it to be very flavourful.  If you think it needs more salt, add soy sauce.  More heat?  Add more chilli oil.  Once the broth tastes great to you, drain it into a large bowl to remove all of the ginger, lemongrass, etc.  Then pour the broth back into the stock pot and return to a medium heat.

Cut the chicken into thin strips.  Add the chicken, the carrot strips and the snow pea strips to the broth.  Allow to cook for 5-10 minutes, until the vegetables are just cooked through.  Then add the mushrooms for another 2 minutes.

While the chicken and veg are cooking, prepare the rice noodles according to the instructions on the package.  I have to pour boiling water over mine and allow to sit for 5-10 minutes, until soft. 

Once the noodles are cooked and the veg is ready, you can layer up your soup. 

In a large soup bowl, place a dash of chilli oil at the bottom of the bowl.  Then add some noodles.  Top the noodles with strips of chicken and some of the vegetables from the broth (I pull the veg out of the broth and add them to the bowl first, but Andy thinks I’m crazy for doing this.)  Ladle in broth to fill the bowl.  Then top each bowl with the sliced radishes, strips of ginger, a sprinkling of fresh chilli and a handful of coriander leaves. 

Last weekend we joined our friends and neighbours, the lovely and talented Paul and Ali, with a large group of their friends in a huge house in Derbyshire to celebrate Ali’s 30th.  Everyone brought food and we organised big, delicious communal meals.  Which, obviously, included a communal breakfast (brekkie) or two.  Bacon, toast and… ugh… eggs. 

The lovely (and festive!) birthday girl!  Happy birthday, Ali!

It is well documented that I do NOT like eggs.  I just don’t like them and you can’t make me.  This does make the idea of a group breakfast a bit of a bummer for me.  We often go away for weekends with groups of friends and the same thing always happens.  Everyone wakes up, a tiny bit hungover and sleepy from all the wine and laughs and SingStar the night before, and starts frying eggs.  I don’t want to be boring or a pain in the bum, but bacon and toast alone does get old after a while. 

The amazing old house we all stayed in.  Proper British, right??

This time, I was determined not to miss out on the group brekkie experience.  So I took matters into my own hands… and my own casserole dish.  I made a brekkie dish that would satisfy me, satisfy a crowd and not contain any eggs.  It was easy, too tasty and smelled TOO good while it was cooking. 

A side view of the casserole on Saturday morning… see the yummy layers of potatoes, cheese and spinach??

This dish has a lot of traditional brekkie components- bacon, milk, potatoes- all layered up and baked until golden and bubbly.  Served hot with a piece of toast, you won’t even miss the eggs.  I know I didn’t!

Brekkie dauphinois
This is a version of a recipe that I’ve posted previously.  I just added a few little bits to make it better for brekkie! 

Serves about 10-12 as part of a brekkie spread

1 kilo (about 2 lbs) potatoes
6 pieces of streaky bacon
3 cups baby spinach
3 spring onions (shallots) chopped finely
1 cup grated Gruyere cheese
1/2 cup grated sharp cheddar
salt and pepper to taste
1 cup double cream
1/2 cup milk

Preheat the oven to 170C or about 325F. 

Chop the bacon into lardons or medium sized dice.  You don’t want the bacon chopped too small, you want to be able to see it and taste it in the casserole.  Fry the bacon until it is almost crispy and remove from the pan.  Drain on a plate lined with papertowels.

Drain most of the fat off from the pan you used to cook the bacon and return it to a low heat.  Wash the spinach well, but don’t drain it completely.  Leaving a little water on the leaves will allow them to steam.  Place the spinach in the pan and put a top on it.  Allow the spinach to steam down, tossing frequently to help out.  Once the spinach has shrunken down and steamed, remove it from the pan and place in a strainer.  Squeeze as much moisture as possible out of the spinach.  You don’t want water in the casserole.  Once the spinach is almost dry, toss it to separate the leaves.  Set aside. 

You can peel the potatoes or leave the peel on, either way.  Thinly slice the potatoes.  I used my mandoline and it was much easier, but you could simply slice the potatoes by hand.  You’re aiming for really thin slices. 

Butter a 9 x 6 1/2 inch ovenproof dish.  Layer the potatoes in the dish, adding a bit of cheese, spinach, bacon and spring onions between each layer.  When you’ve layered all the potatoes, pour the cream and milk on top.  Then top the whole thing with the rest of the grated cheese.

Bake for about 45mins to 1 hour.  Test with a knife to make sure the potatoes are completely cooked and the liquid is absorbed.  If the top starts to get too brown, cover loosely with tin foil for the rest of the baking time. 

Let rest for 10 mins before serving.

Baby, it’s cold outside.  The 6 inches of snow that we got on Tuesday night is rapidly turning into frozen slush and slicks of ice on the sidewalk.  It was -7 when we woke up this morning and there was ice on the inside of our bedroom windows.  The inside, people. 

Despite the fact that I can’t feel the tips of my thumbs for most of the day, I’m kind of loving this weather.  After 4 “winters” in Australia, during which I could generally wear my flip flops whenever I wanted, this feels like a proper winter.  I just want to cuddle and be near fire places.  I want to wear fleece and drink hot tea and eat soup. 

Oh, the soup.  I love soup all the time, every day in every season, but I adore soup when it’s cold.  Having a batch of soup bubbling away in my big red cast iron pot makes me feel warm all over. 

Last night I got my hair cut.  That has nothing to do with the soup, but I thought you might want to know.  As soon as I got home, before pouring a glass of red wine but after taking 37 minutes to get all of my dripping winter gear off in the hall, I put the cast iron pot on the hob.  I chopped some bacon, chopped some onions, boiled some stock and in less than an hour had a sunny yellow cauldron of Corn and Cheddar Chow-dah (Hi, mom!) ready for dinner. 

This soup is ideal for a weekday dinner because it’s fast, it makes enough for leftovers for lunch and it will warm you all the way down to your fleece covered toes.  Enjoy it with a blanket and a fireplace on the side. 

Corn and Cheddar Chowder
adapted from The Barefoot Contessa

Serves 4-6

 5-6 slices of streaky bacon, chopped
2 tbs olive oil
2 large onions, chopped
1 chilli, seeds removed, chopped
2 tbs butter
3 tbs plain flour
1/4 tsp ground tumeric
2 tsp sea salt
1 tsp freshly ground pepper
1 1/2 litre chicken stock
2 cups white potatoes, unpeeled and diced
2 1/2 cups corn kernels
1/2 cup sharp cheddar, grated, plus extra for serving. 

Place a large, heavy stock pan on medium high heat.  Cook the bacon in the olive oil until the bacon is crisp.  Remove the bacon and place it on a plate lined with paper towel (kitchen roll.) 

Reduce the heat to medium and add the butter, onion and chilli.  Cook for about 7-8 minuted, or until the onion is translucent. 

Stir in the flour, turmeric, salt and pepper.  Cook for about 3 minutes. 

Add the chicken stock and the potatoes.  Bring to the boil and allow to simmer for about 15 minutes, or until the potatoes are soft. 

Add 2 cups of the corn to the soup.  Cook for about 10 minutes.  Then, using an immersion blender or a regular blender, working in batches, blend the soup until smooth.

Once the soup is smooth add the remaining 1/2 cup of the corn and the cheddar.  Stir these into the soup and allow to cook for about 5-7 mins, until the cheese is all melted and the soup is very hot.

Serve in large bowls with extra cheddar and some of the reserved bacon sprinkled on top. 

I think your New Years resolution should be to improve your spaghetti sauce. 

Think about it.  This makes WAY more sense than starting a diet that you are going to quit on January 23, which will make you feel bad about yourself.  It also makes more sense than vowing to improve your French or Spanish, which means you’ll spend a lot of money on those CD’s you listen to in your car, but you’ll get bored on your drive to the grocery store on Feb 11, switch the language discs for the newest Jay-Z CD and you’ll never put los discos back into rotation. 

But, improving your spaghetti sauce is the perfect New Years resolution.  It will enhance your life in a number of ways; such as:

1.  You will be more popular… everyone loves spaghetti sauce. 
2.  You will be happier… because YOU love spaghetti sauce.
3.  You will eat more tomatoes, which may help you avoid cancer.
4.  You will feel a sense of achievement for having kept a New Years resolution for the first time ever (or is that just me?)

So, if you do choose to make this your resolution, I ask that you let me be your guide. 

Spaghetti sauce (or spaghetti bolognaise- spag bog- in England) is one of my very favourite comfort foods.  I have refined my recipe over the past few years and have learned, through trial and error, several little tricks that make a huge difference. 

You can apply these tips to whatever recipe you currently use to make your spaghetti sauce even better!  Ring in the new decade with spaghetti!

1.  Add some carrots
Tomatoes can be very acidic, so some people add sugar to their sauce to balance this.  However, I think carrots work even better.  Carrots are high in natural sugars, so you get the same effect whilst adding a vegetable and losing the extra sugar.  Cut one medium carrot up into a very fine dice and add it in when you brown your onion at the beginning. 

2.  Don’t add water!
I know that a lot of people add a can of chopped tomatoes, then fill the can with water to “rinse out the bits left in the can” and pour that into the pot.  Don’t do that!  Water doesn’t add any flavour and you don’t want to add anything that doesn’t have flavour.  Instead, add beef stock or red wine.  They will increase the liquid amount AND the flavour. 

3.  Use a mix of meats.
Don’t just use ground beef, that’s boring!  Mix it up and add a few different meats.  This will make your sauce more flavourful and complex.  I usually use lean ground beef, ground pork and a few Italian sausages removed from their casings. 

4.  Dried herbs are best. 
I am usually a big fan of fresh herbs, but for spaghetti and meat sauce, dried is best.  This is because dried herbs are stronger.  You won’t need as much and you can adjust as needed.  I usually use dried basil and dried oregano.  I’m sure this isn’t traditional, but it tastes great to me!

5.  Brown your meatballs first.
If you’re making meatballs, you want to use them to add flavour to the sauce.  You also want them to taste good.  This is why it’s important to brown your meatballs in a frying pan first.  You’ll get those delicious brown bits on the meatballs, which will add flavour to the sauce.  Once the meatballs are browned on 2 sides (don’t cook them all the way through!), you can add them to the sauce, where they will finish cooking, flavour the sauce and get soft and delicious.