It's a Rap!

I really am so daft that when I'm cooking dinner, I will put on music that fits what I'm cooking. Usually this means listening to some Banghra or some Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan while making a curry or Dean Martin while tossing a pizza. What can I say, it gets me in the mood.
While making these Chinese beef and enoki mushroom lettuce wraps, because I don't have any classical Chinese music (my MP3 library THAT varied), I thought Wraps! Raps! And so I put Tupac on my iPod dock and made a genius play list.

There's nothing like the sound of an overly sensitive smoke detector mixing with the dulcet tones of Lil Kim's Hard Core album to get you slicing and dicing like there's no tomorrow. Maybe it's a Big Momma Thing?

These speedy little treats were inspired by fellow foodie blogger Cajun Chef Ryan, who always tempts and delights with bold flavours and clever techniques.

My recipe isn't really the same as Ryans, because I wanted to use up a spare steak I had and some bits I've picked up during my grocery shopping. I also know that if I don't serve carbs with dinner (especially if it's Chinese!) my stepson will be hungry again .0445837 seconds after he's cleaned his plate.

The rice is cooked with star anise and lots of black and white sesame seeds, which give a lovely perfume and texture. The stir-fry is soft and spicy, while the lettuce is cool and crisp, so the combination of the three is lovely. Just as I did after reading the Cajun Chef's post, you can totally tweak this to make use of what you have knocking about in your fridge or your personal preferences. Shrimp or minced pork would be a particularly lovely substitution for the beef.

So go put on some Snoop Dog or Pitbull and get cookin'

Rump Steak and Enoki Mushroom Lettuce Wraps with Sesame Rice
serves 4, takes 30-40 minutes


400g (14oz) rump steak, trimmed of fat sliced 5mm (3/16") THIN
1 large onion, sliced top-to-bottom into half-moons 
1 bundle enoki mushrooms, bottoms trimmed, separated carefully
200g white cabbage (or napa) sliced very thinly

2cm fresh ginger, roughly chopped
2 whole red chillies, roughly sliced*
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1 tbsp Szechuan peppercorns*
2 tbsp preserved black beans*

1 tbsp light soy sauce
1 tbsp fish sauce (yes, I know this isn't Chinese, but it tastes really good so there.)
1 tbsp Shaoxing rice wine (or dry sherry)
2 tsp rice vinegar
2 tbsp oyster sauce
100ml (4oz) water
2 tsp corn starch

2 tbsp ground nut, sunflower or canola oil

16 baby gem lettuce leaves (or the top half of romaine leaves) washed and dried


1 cup long grain rice
1tbsp white sesame seeds
1 tbsp black sesame seeds
3 star anise
1/2 tsp salt


sliced spring onions to serve

As with any Oriental meal, it's best to get all the prep done before the flame meets wok, as things move pretty quickly. I usually freeze meat that I want to slice v.v. thinly for an hour or so to make it easier to slice.


Mix together the soy sauce, fish sauce, corn starch and rice vinegar and stir the beef slices into this mixture and set aside while you do the rest of the prep.

Put the chillies, ginger, garlic, Szechuan peppercorns and black beans in a pestle and mortar and pound for a few minutes to make a coarse paste.


Wash the rice for a few minutes in cold running water, then put into a small saucepan with 1 1/2 cups of cold water, the salt, star anise and sesame seeds.
Bring the rice to the boil then immediately turn down the heat to low, cover and leave to finish cooking for 7-9 minutes, until all the water has been absorbed. Leave the cover on the rice until you're ready to serve.
While the rice cooks, start the stir-fry.


Heat a wok or a large frying pan over a high heat until smoking and add the oil. Add the beef to the hot oil and stir-fry quickly for 3-4 minutes until well browned and going a little crisp, then remove to a plate with a slotted spoon. If there's not much oil left in the wok, add another tbsp and toss in the chilli-bean paste you've made. Stir-fry for a minute until very fragrant and beginning to go golden, then add in the onions and cabbage tossing well into the paste for a minute before adding a little water, any leftover beef marinade and the oyster sauce. Cook for about one more minute, until the veggies are *just* going tender, then toss in the mushrooms and turn off the heat, as they really don't need more than a second's cooking time.

Serve the rice and stir fry with the lettuce leaves and some sliced spring onions, letting everybody build their own wraps, so that the lettuce stays crisp and cool.


*These ingredients may be replaced with a couple of tablespoonsful of a good quality chilli bean paste if you like.

Spicy Asian Lettuce Wraps

We're Monsters.

It's true.

We're a couple of murderers.

Those of you who read my blog semi-regularly might remember that we've had an uninvited guest living in and off of our compost bin for the past couple of months. It had been digging tunnels between the bin and the greenhouse, shifting phenomenal amounts of partially-decomposed veggie scraps and lawn clippings and eating its way through discarded old potatoes and apples.

We've been going back and forth about what we thought it might be for weeks. Logic says 'rat' but the copious amounts of poo he/they left behind were much bigger and rounder than my pet rats' used to be. To be honest, I didn't WANT it to be a rat, because I knew what Drew would insist on doing with it and I didn't want to hurt him. I had visuals of him laying on his back in the dark, on top of banana peels and tea bags, rubbing his swollen belly in a blissful euphoria. That thought made me smile.

It was a rat.

Drew flushed him out of the little hole he'd dug at the base of the bin by giving the compost a really good poke with a bamboo cane. He shot out the back and raced around the corner, behind the greenhouse and down another little hole he'd dug under the fence into our neighbour's garden. I wasn't there to witness this, but apparently, he was "THIS BIG!!" (about 12").
Despite my protests, Drew went off to Homebase and purchased two very angry-looking black plastic and steel traps. Ugh.

Two days later, while weeding the asparagus, I noticed that one of the traps in the gauntlet Drew had set up at the corner of the greenhouse was no longer visible.

Ohsweetbabyjesus, shall I look?

And there he was. A pretty little grey-brown fluffkin, eyes still open, looking at me as if to say "You let him do this to me! I wasn't doing you any harm, I was just after your old apples and potatoes! This is my family's summer home and now the kids wont have any vacations anymore because you killed their Dad and they'll have to go to a little rat orphanage! Murderer!"

I felt like Myra Hindley.

Drew SWEARS that the rat he flushed out was HUGE and that this rat is not him (Which makes it even WORSE!)
Drew is convinced that if we don't catch him, one of the dogs will and will catch some nasty disease that will end up on my lap on the sofa, then he'll put his head in my lap to watch TV, catch the disease and then will give it to me when he kisses me.

So if the little fella we murdered ISN'T Aubrey (the rat's name), then the one buried in the garden is basically the victim of a roadside bomb. OMG, maybe he was one of Aubrey's kids??

Drew says that the alternative is poison scattered in the compost, but I use that compost to fertilize our veggies. I think that we should use live traps and release him into the wild (or another neighbour's garden? That old lady who last Christmas told me I was "naughty" for picking a few branches of holly from the MASSIVE woods behind our house, that I (thankyouverymuch) keep clean and tidy with regular litter pickings! Old bat.)

So I have decommissioned the traps. I can't go through another burial. I can't handle the guilt. I wonder if I can put them in a tree to catch a couple of wood pigeons? They're tasty!

So really, the reason for the hyper-vigilance on our part with regard to the compost is because of the vegetable garden. It stayed cold for a long time this spring and we were too broke to buy seeds for a while, so we're a little behind.  If you like, have a look at some of the fun stuff we have coming up outside.

There are a lot of seeds coming up in the greenhouse, which will be transplanted to the bare spots in the veg patch and I'm trying to do it all organically again this year, which means I'm cutting back on my brassicas, because one person can only pick so many cabbage white caterpillars off leaves in a day.


French breakfast radishes

Sorrel

THREE different kinds of courgette!

Peas!

A few varieties of potato and some Jerusalem artichokes in bags

A crab apple tree we inherited with the house and some rhubarb I planted last year.

See that teeny tiny green spot on the ground to the right of the tree, about three feet away? That's a lavender bush I just planted. I buried Mr. Rat right next to it. sigh

There is a big ol' patch of empty in front of that tree and I'm going to try a 'three sisters' planting like the South Americans do. The idea is that you grow corn (my seedlings are TEENY!) in a grid and then you plant beans at the base of the stalks so they climb up them. You then plant squash on the ground in between because the big leaves shade the soil and keep the ground moist. Beans are a brilliant companion for a lot of veggies because they pump all kinds of nitrogen into the soil.

I'll be interested to see how it all comes along and will be sure to update you! 

I bought a book of veggie growing three years ago and it's just about the smartest thing I could have done. If you only buy one book about growing veggies at home, make it this one. It could almost be called "for dummies" and takes you all the way from sowing, through feeding and care and then harvesting and storage of your crops. Useful tips about companion planting are great for organic growers too.

Here's our modest little asparagus patch.

We've had two good harvests already, so I'm letting them grow into ferns now so that we can have a bumper crop next year. It's incredibly hard to restrain myself, but I discovered last week that the little shoots that grow off each spear are exactly like mini, super-tender asparagus spears, so I think I'll steal a couple off of each plant to have with dinner later.

As for the rest of the attempts at veggie self-sufficiency, we have garlic, carrots, turnips, salsify and parsnips already poking out in the dirt outside and in the greenhouse we have chillis, peppers, tomatoes, herbs and lettuces.

The one and only flower bed we have has land cress, rosemary, thyme, garlic, rocket and MORE lettuces, because they look so pretty.

The goal is to buy as little veg as we have to, and if the past two years are anything to go by, we should be pretty successful. Last year I went a bit nuts and planted 62 different varieties of veg and herbs, which was retarded because we live on a small plot in suburban Bracknell, not Southfork Ranch.

I was just thinking I would go out and play in the dirt for a bit, maybe have a word with the strawberries, but it's started raining. 

That's the great thing about greenhouses:-)

Farmers Market Treasures

We're pretty lucky here, because we have access to some very decent farmers markets within a thirty minute drive. The first Thursday of every month is market day in Wokingham, a small village about ten minutes away and is my favourite of all because of the range of local meat and game that's always available.

I usually try not to spend more than about £20 on these market trips, because in the end, it is all part of the grocery budget and I only have so much fridge/freezer space.
The veggie growers often sell some tasty looking seasonal treats and the pies and breads on offer always tempt but I tend to spend the majority of my money on meat and fish. Our organic and free-range producers need all the support they can get in this age of two-for-a-fiver intensively reared supermarket chicken and when it comes down to it, I can grow my own veg and bake bread (ish) at home.

So this week, for my £20, I was able to get a lovely big slab of Hereford skirt steak, an oak smoked trout, a nice piece of Old Spot pork belly, some oak-smoked back bacon, a few chipolatas, two pheasants and two rabbits. Top top it all off, I found a gently used copy of Larousse Pratique in the Cancer Research shop in the market square!

I got home feeling triumphant, with ideas swirling through my head and spread all my treasures out on the kitchen worktop, like Richie Rich counting his stacks of coins. I stopped short of rolling around on my bed in a pile of meat though, I thought that might put the guys off their food...

I put most of my haul in the freezer but kept the trout back to make this lovely quiche. I Am undecided as yet about what I am going to do with the pheasants and bunnies, but I think I might try my hand at making some bacon with the pork belly, although Drew is anxious for me to have another go at the pork I cured and cooked slowly in olive oil. Despite the slight saltiness, he really loved that dish, which says a lot, because there isn't much food he gets excited about (grr!)

This quiche is lovely for a light lunch or after-school snack and was even elicited a few moans from the same husband who doesn't like fish or egg dishes (go figure..) It would be handy for a pot luck because it's best served at room temperature and is quite simple to make. I would say that the most important thing would be to get as much moisture as possible out of the spinach and tomatoes, to avoid getting a soggy crust. Try to buy un-dyed fish (which is sustainably sourced), as it will definitely effect the colour and flavour of the final product.


Rustic Smoked Trout, Spinach and Tomato Quiche
Serves 8, takes approx 2 hours+ cooling time

For the pastry:
300g (10.5oz) plain (all purpose) flour
1/2 tsp salt
150g unsalted butter, very cold, cut into cubes
<1 egg
ice cold water

For the filling:
1 medium smoked trout, skinned and boned (take care to look for any hair-thin bones)
7 eggs
400g (14oz) washed baby spinach
2 ripe, red tomoates
150ml double (heavy whipping) cream
100ml whole milk
1/2 tsp freshly grated nutmeg
salt and pepper
2 tbsp freshly grated parmesan
1/2 tsp white pepper

To make the pastry, put the flour, salt and butter into the bowl of a food processor and pulse for a maybe 20-30 seconds, until you have the consistency of fresh breadcrumbs- the coarser, the better.
Beat the egg together with a couple of tbsp of ice cold water and pour about half of this mixture into the processor. Pulse again for a few more seconds, until the moisture is well distributed then lift the lid and see if the mixture will hold together when pressed with the tips of your fingers. If it does, remove the mixture and form a loose ball. If the mixture is still a little dry, add more of the egg mixture a few drops at a time while pulsing the dough until it JUST holds together, then wrap this in clingfilm and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes.

While the pastry is resting, prepare the veggies. Blanch the spinach for 30 seconds in salted boiling water and then plunge into ice cold water to stop the cooking. Drain well, squeezing out as much moisture as you can; a tea towel can be really helpful here, just heap the squeezed spinach into a ball in the centre, then bring the corners of the towel together and twist hard to wring out any last bits of moisture.
Slice the tomatoes about 1/4" thick and sprinkle with a little salt. Lay the slices on a double layer of kitchen towel with another double layer on top and press gently to absorb as much water as possible. Leave the tomatoes within the layers of towel until you're ready to use them.

Beat the eggs together well with the cream, milk, some salt and the white pepper, then preheat your oven to 190C (375F) and roll out your pastry.
Put your ball of pastry between two layers of cling film and roll into a circle just larger than a 25cm (10") quiche tin, including the sides. Use one of the layers of cling film to move the pastry to your quiche tin, pressing well into the corners and the scalloped edge, then, with the clingfilm still in, fill with dried beans or rice (I have a bag of rice that I keep for this purpose, as it's useless after you blind-bake with it once) and blind bake the shell for twenty minutes.
Remove the shell from the oven, turn the heat down to 160C (320F) and use the cling film to lift the rice/beans out of the shell.
Lay the tomato slices over the base in one snug layer and then scatter with the drained spinach leaves. Sprinkle with a little sea salt and black pepper and grate the nutmeg over the top in an even little shower.
Pour the egg mixture evenly over the lot and then flake the smoked trout over the top, jiggling the pan a little to settle it all into the custard. Grate the parmesan over the top and bake for 30-40 minutes, until the edges are beginning to brown and the centre is set.
Remove from the oven and gently break off the excess pastry around the edges (I did say 'rustic') then allow to cool completely before serving. Simply dressed rocket (arugula) leaves are a particularly lovely accompaniment.

The Nettles Strike Back.

A few weeks ago I posted a little about my love of cooking with stinging nettles and used them in some tasty ravioli. In my book, the only thing better than really tasty food is food which is not only delicious, but mostly free, incredibly healthy and so local that the food distance can be counted in yards rather than miles.

I went nettle picking again on Monday and had planned to get just enough to make a risotto similar to one Alex Rushmer made over at Just cook It. When my little dog Violet and I got out to the woods though, I saw that many of the nettles were just starting to form flower heads, which aren't tasty and pretty much signal the end of nettle-eating season. I decided there and then that I would pick a LOT and would make a pesto, which will last me a while so that I can still be munching long after the nettles are no longer worth picking.

I wore surgical-style latex gloves just as I did last time, but you know, I think that the little buggers have toughened up over the couple of weeks since my last harvest. I felt a few prickles through my gloves, by rather than walk the whole hundred feet back to my kitchen for thicker gloves, I toughed it out and continued picking until I had almost a grocery bag full.
When I got home, my fingers were tingling and prickling a little, as one might expect, but I must have been prickled more than I thought, because

HOLY CRAP.

All evening and into the night, my fingers on my right hand felt as though they'd been hit with hammers and were being repeatedly electrocuted. It wasn't until the following evening -so about 36 hours later- that the sensation subsided and I stopped whining about it.
So let this be a lesson to you all. Seems obvious, right? Wear thick gloves when you're picking nettles.

I made this pesto in the traditional way, but substituting nettle for almost all of the basil. We had it on some pizza that night and it was very tasty on some poached eggs the following morning.

There is still the hint of basil, but the predominant flavour is the fresh nettle, which is predictably lovely with the parmesan and walnut flavours. This recipe makes quite a lot but should survive well in the fridge. If you're not feeling generous enough to give some away, it should freeze well for months.

Stinging Nettle Pesto
Makes about 1 kilo (2 lbs)

350g (12oz) well-washed nettle tops
150g walnuts
500ml extra virgin olive oil
2 sprigs basil
75g parmesan, finely grated
6 cloves garlic, roughly chopped

Blanch the nettles and the basil in salted boiling water for 30 seconds, then plunge into ice-cold water to stop the cooking. This will kill the prickles and will help the leaves retain their bright green colour long after the pesto has been put away in the fridge
Put all of the ingredients except for half of the olive oil into a food processor and pulse for 30 seconds or so, until fairly uniformly chopped, scraping down the sides with a spatula if need be.
With the food processor running, pour the remaining olive oil in, until you have a thick, paste-like consistency. Really, you can make your pesto as thick and course or thin and smooth as you like just by adjusting the amount of olive oil.
I don't salt my pesto because I never know what I'm going to use it on, but you absolutely can if you prefer it a little seasoned.

Put into jars and pour over a little olive oil to help preserve it. your pesto should keep for several week in the fridge like this.

I also made an all-sourdough pizza crust that night. It was incredibly crisp and chewy and quite sour, which my husband really loved. I'm going to do it one more time before I post the recipe though, just to make sure I get the same result.

06/05/10 P.S. Nettles are known for their hay fever-relieving properties. Christian came home from school today with red eyes, sneezing and congestion so I jumped into action and gave him a big spoonful of this pesto with a slice of quiche (recipe to follow) and within the hour he was feeling fine. Not just better, but totally fine. As James Wong would say "This was not a clinical trial, but many people find that natural remedies are as effective as conventional medicines"

Two Dishes Are Better Than One

Making our weekly menu is one of my favourite and one of the most frustrating times of my week. I get to let my imagination run (a little) wild and use some of the ideas I've picked up from my favourite foodie blogs and magazines, while trying to incorporate seasonal delights and some family favourites.
As I've said (or ranted) before, the list of foods that my husband doesn't like is a long one, and I tend to try not to incorporate too much of that list into one week, but sometimes I just can't take it anymore and simply must have a curry, tagine or, in this case, a lovely piece of salmon.
We don't eat much fish really, which is such a shame because two of the three of us love it. When I do make a food that Drew doesn't like, I try to soften the blow a little by combining it with flavours and techniques that he does enjoy.

I had bought a lovely piece of Scottish salmon for supper, which I wanted to cook simply with just some salt and pepper and some local asparagus. Because Drew loves Thai flavours, I thought that a beurre blanc perfumed with lemongrass would be a nice twist. Some lovely organic Devon cider made a nice change from using white wine as a base for the sauce and was a particularly nice compliment to the asparagus.

This was a really tasty meal in its own right, but what I have been the most excited about is what I did with the left over salmon the next morning.

Christian was having a sleep over at his BFF's house, so I had more salmon than I really needed. I decided to cook it anyway and figured that I'd just use it in a salad for lunch the next day.
The beurre blanc was so good that I packaged the left overs with the piece of cooked salmon even though I knew it would split in the fridge (which it did).

Crispy Salmon With Lemongrass and Cider Beurre Blanc
serves 2, takes 30 minutes (ish)

2 170g (6oz) salmon fillet (look for sustainably sourced)
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 tbsp olive oil

1 shallot, medium dice
1 lemongrass stalk, bashed to bits with a mallet, then chopped into roughly 1" pieces
200ml ((6.75 oz) dry organic cider
75g unsalted butter, cut into 1cm cubes
pinch salt
juice of 1/2 a lemon (fresh, not bottled)

Heat a small saucepan over a moderate heat and drop in the shallot and lemongrass. Dry fry these for a minute or so and pour over the cider.
Simmer the cider mixture over a low heat for several minutes, until the liquid has reduced by about half.
While the cider is reducing, sprinkle the salmon on both the skin and the flesh sides with a little salt and pepper, then, over a moderate heat, heat the olive oil until shimmery.
Place the salmon skin-side down, and lower the temperature a little, leaving the fish to cook for 3-5 minutes, depending on their thickness.
When the salmon looks to be about halfway cooked, carefully flip over to finish cooking on the flesh side. The fish will continue cooking for over a minute after you remove it from the heat, so err on the side of under-cooking and remove the salmon when it's almost, but not quite done.

While your salmon is cooking and your cider has reduced, drop the temperature to almost a simmer and put a couple of pieces of butter into the pan, stirring or whisking well to incorporate. When the butter has melted into the mixture, add a few more pieces of butter, continually stirring until combined and continue in this fashion until all of the butter has been incorporated and the mixture is creamy coloured and smooth.
Strain this mixture into a small bowl which is sitting in a larger bowl filled with warm (ever so slightly warmer than body temp) water. Season with a little sea salt and stir in the lemon juice. While sitting in the warm bowl, the sauce should be fine for fifteen minutes at least, so you could make it before you start cooking the salmon if you like.

I served the salmon skin-side-up with peeled, steamed asparagus and some new potatoes tossed in butter, sea salt and fresh mint. I drizzled the sauce over the asparagus and around the salmon, so that it didn't make the crispy skin go soft.

So yesterday morning, when I was surveying the fridge and trying to figure out what I wanted for breakfast, there was last night's salmon, winking seductively from the shelf. I grabbed a handful of spinach, a pot of cream, some tomato and basil and went to work.
Ten minutes later, I had what was seriously the best breakfast I have ever had. Of course the soft egg yolk with the salmon and spinach were lovely, but what made the dish so special for me, was the subtly lemongrassy sauce mingling with all of the other flavours, bringing a slight tang, which was accentuated by the soft tomatoes. If you ask me, it would be worth making the salmon and sauce specifically for this dish if you're having a brunch party or want to treat your special someone with breakfast in bed.

Left Over Salmon and Egg Special Brunch
serves 2, takes ten minutes


1 piece of salmon fillet, cooked as described above
2 tbsp left-over lemongrass beurre blanc, doesn't matter if it's split
2 fresh, free range eggs
1 large, ripe tomatoes sliced about 1/4" thick
1 very large handful, washed spinach
1 sprig, fresh basil, leaves picked and cut into a rough chiffonade
2-3 tbsp double cream (optional)
rye crisp bread to serve
freshly ground black pepper, sea salt

Heat a heavy, oven-proof skillet over a medium heat, then tip in the butter sauce, stirring for a few seconds until melted, then flake in the salmon.
Add the spinach to the pan and fold in, without breaking the salmon up too much and cook for a few seconds until the spinach has started to wilt.
Crack the eggs over the top and tilt the pan to encourage the whites to flood over the spinach, drizzle over the cream, then lay over the tomato slices and scatter with the basil.
Sprinkle with a little sea salt and plenty of black pepper before putting under a hot grill for approximately 3-4 minutes. Check regularly until the whites are just firm but the yolks are still runny.

Serve immediately and groan lavishly as all the amazing flavours do a waltz on your tongue.
Seriously, this dish made my week.

Beurre Blanc

Sweets Cookery Class

I've mentioned before that I've been teaching my stepson Christian (14) to cook on and off for the past seven years, during which, I have discovered that my teaching skills leave a lot to be desired.

You know how when you have guests and are cooking dinner and a guest says "can I help with anything?" and if you actually give them a task, it totally throws off your timing and overall cooking mojo? (Am I the only one?) Well I'm the same with teaching cooking.

Somehow, my groove gets totally thrown off, I forget important instructions and assume that somehow my stepson understands what I mean when I say "fold" or "drizzle" or "small dice" when I haven't even shown him yet. I get exasperated (inwardly) when he forgets to let the wok smoke before adding the oil or takes 45 minutes to peel a shrimp or two.

One thing that IS fairly easy to teach though, is baking. Maybe it's because there is little in the way of mise en place to get wrong and timing is much less of a worry than when you're trying to bring the various components of a dish together at the same time.
Not ONCE while making these brownies did I feel the need to say "Let me just do this part..." and Christian was so proud of the finished product.

I had made some sea salted butter caramel ice cream the day before specifically to serve with these brownies and they do go together a treat, but each would make an indulgent little sweet all on its own.

The brownie recipe is Lulu Grimes' from the back of this month's Olive Magazine, and is one of the best I've ever had. Knowing that I was going to be serving them with the caramel ice cream, I didn't feel the need to add chocolate chips or nuts to the mix, but there's no reason you couldn't.

Do the ice cream first, so that it's set when the brownies are almost cool.

Rich Chocolate Brownies with Sea Salted Butter Caramel Ice Cream
takes approx 4 hours, including cooling, makes 9 servings of each

For the ice cream:
2 cups double cream (heavy whipping cream)
1 1/2 cups whole milk
3/4 cups golden caster sugar
1 tsp vanilla
3 eggs
3 pinches, fine sea salt
2 tbsp unsalted butter

Put the sugar in an even layer in a heavy-bottomed skillet or saucepan over a moderate heat and leave it alone until you start to see the edges melting and going golden brown. Slowly stir the sugar with a wooden spoon for a minute or so, until all of the sugar has melted and is a deep, dark golden brown and bubbling away. Add the butter, a little at a time and stir well between each addition until just combined, then pour in the cream. The caramel will seize up at this point because of the addition of the cool liquid and the pan will bubble madly, but turn down the heat a little and stir rapidly for 6-7 minutes, until the caramel has dissolved into the cream, (this is where having a 14 year old around comes in handy) then turn off the heat.

Beat the eggs well in a bowl and add the vanilla, salt and then stir in the milk. Pour the thick caramel cream into the milk, whisking well as you go, then refrigerate this mixture for a couple of hours before churning.

Use an ice cream machine to churn your ice cream base for approximately 30 minutes (follow the manufacturer's instructions) then scrape into an air tight container and pop in the freezer for an hour or so to finish firming up.

For the brownies: (Thanks again Lulu!)

100g (3.5oz) unsalted butter, chopped
200g good quality dark chocolate, chopped (We used Valrhona, but Green and Black's 85% dark would be good)
4 free-range eggs
250g golden caster sugar
100g plain flour
1 tsp baking powder
30g cocoa

Heat the oven to 180C (350F) and line a 22cm square brownie tin* with baking parchment.
Melt the butter and chocolate together in a microwave or in a bowl set over a pan of gently simmering water then cool to room temperature.
Whisk together the eggs and sugar until pale and fluffy.
Fold the chocolate mixture into the egg mixture, then sift on the flour, baking powder and cocoa. Fold this in to give a fudgy batter and pour into your prepared brownie tin, smoothing out to create an even thickness.
Bake for 25-30 minutes**, or until the top is cracked but the middle is just set.
Cool completely before lifting out to cut.

*We used a 20cm tin because I don't have a 22cm one. This meant our brownies were a little thicker, especially around the outside, where they rose and set a little more, which we rather liked.
**Better to err on the side of undercooked if you want fudgy brownies. Cooking for too long will produce a drier, more cake-like finished product.

Serve the brownies still ever so slightly warm with a scoop of the caramel ice cream on top.

I think tomorrow I'm going to make some hazelnut praline, which I'm going to powder and sprinkle on the top.

Killer Brownies

This and That

It's been a weird weekend weather-wise. The sun is beginning to peek out of the clouds now, but last night we got rain that came down so hard, I truly feared for the little radish and lettuce seedlings in the garden. I don't mind rain exactly, in fact I welcome the odd shower as an alternative to having to water the veggies every day but I definitely tend to turn inward when the weather gets cold and wet. Plans for bright salads and grilled fish get eschewed in favour of warm pastas and big hunks of meat.

Yesterday, my 14 year old step son had his best friend (complete with brand new pubescent, downy moustache) for a sleep over, and so it was definitely time for a robust dinner. I made a crispy roast chicken and some simple, buttered spring veggies along with a big pan of potato and onion gratin, of which Christian and Tom Selleck both had seconds.

Christian is still excited about learning to cook, so I asked him to help me make some brownies that afternoon, which we had for pudding with a scoop of rich salted butter caramel ice cream. (Both recipes to follow)

The chicken and veggie recipes are incredibly simple, so almost not worth posting, but the potatoes are some of the best gratin I've made in a while. They're unapologetically garlicky and incredibly tender throughout, with a thin crust of golden cheese over the top. Yes, they're packed with fat, but you don't need a lot to make it a truly satisfying accompaniment to a simple roast. The assistance of a clean up crew in the shape of two shaggy-haired teenagers can ensure you don't attack the leftovers Nigella-style before bed.

Late last night, long after Drew was asleep and while the boys were no doubt shooting bad guys on the X Box in Christian's pit of boy stink, I spent a little time foodie blog cruising, as I often do when sleep eludes me.
I landed again on Masterchef finalist Alex Rushmer's brilliant 'little corner of the web' Just Cook It

I love his use of nettles in this lovely risotto, which I intend to make within the next couple of days, as I love nettles and am excited to try his newly learned method of cooking the rice.

Alex's blog is intimately and picturesquely written and exudes the childlike enthusiasm he has for all things cookery. There are posts about successes, failures and fascinating experiments as Alex shares with us his adventures with inverse spherification, sous vide and making a tasty meal out of a pig's head. He is totally a cook after my own heart and while I was so disappointed to see him not win Masterchef, anyone who watched him cook knows that he has huge things ahead.

Ok, back to me and MY cooking.

The roast chicken was a local (ish) free range bird that I just rubbed with some bruised garlic, lots of olive oil and sea salt, then roasted it at 230C (450F) for 20 minutes, before turning down the oven to 180C (350F) for another 25 minutes.
This might not seem like long enough to roast a (medium-sized) chicken, but it really will give you a crisp, juicy meal without a trace of dryness in the breast. If you're worried at all about whether the bird is cooked, just pierce the thigh at the meatiest point and if the juices run clear, you know it's fine.

Potato and Onion Gratin
serves 6 (or 4 if you've got teenage boys) takes 1 hour, 15 minutes
approx 1 kilo (2.2 lbs) Maris Piper, King Edward or similar, floury potato
1 large onion
2 large cloves garlic, crushed
50g (1.75 oz) Gruyere cheese, grated with a fine grater
2 tbsp freshly grated Parmesan cheese
300ml (10 oz) double cream (heavy whipping cream
200ml (6.75 fl. oz) whole milk
1/2 tsp freshly grated nutmeg
pinch, cayenne pepper
sea salt
black pepper
3 tbsp bread crumbs


Pre-heat your oven to 170C (340F) and rub a little butter all over the inside of a baking dish.
Peel the potatoes and remove any bruised bits, then slice thinly (approx 2 mm/ 1/8") into a large bowl using a mandolin. You can do it with a knife if you like, but try to keep the slices as uniformly thin as possible.
Use the mandolin to slice the onions into the bowl with the potatoes and add the cream, milk, garlic, salt and pepper to taste, the nutmeg and the cayenne pepper. Mix well with your hands, to make sure every waffer thin slice of potato is coated with the creamy mixture.

Tip the potato slices et al into your prepared baking dish and press down all the potato slices into a nice, tight mixture. While I skip all the fuss of layering the potatoes fastidiously, I do keep a couple of handfuls back so that I can lay them out prettily, although you absolutely don't have to, especially if you're in a hurry.
Sprinkle both the cheeses evenly over the top and then sprinkle with the breadcrumbs. Finish with a few grinds of black pepper and then bake for about an hour, or until the top is golden and the potatoes underneath are completely soft (test with the tip of a knife).

Let the potatoes sit at room temperature for a couple of minutes before serving to make scooping a little easier, then bathe in the adoration from your fellow diners.*

*It helps when your dinner guests are 14 year old boys fed largely on a diet of processed, frozen foods at home.

In other news, (yes, I know, this a rambling and random post but I'm in one of those scatty moods I'm afraid) I have a new baby!
I have a habit of trying to get random things to grow on my kitchen window sill. Last year I buried a fresh piece of galangal root and a piece of turmeric root in some soil and waited for three months before I had any joy. The galangal (see left) has done rather well and has a fantastic root system that I might even be able to harvest from soon. The turmeric has done ok, but tends to get incredibly tall, before buckling and snapping under its own weight or turning yellow and withering. There are always new shoots coming up to take the place of the old ones though, and it's neat to grow something pretty and different out of a bit of curry ingredient.

But it's not the galangal or the turmeric I'm excited about. It's this: That tiny little seedling is one of two that are growing in with the galangal and turmeric from a couple of lemon seeds I pressed into the pots a month or so ago and promptly forgot about. I'm going to let them grow a few more sets of leaves before I re-pot them into their own pots and see what happens. I'm not under any illusion that I'm going to get any lemons (unless we seriously expand our greenhouse!) but it's still a little thrilling.

I also am attempting to sprout some lemongrass in shot glasses on the same window sill, so I'll let you know how that goes.....