Boozy Christmas Pudding Trifle

Now that it's getting dark by 4pm and the rain seems to take little respite from lashing against the windows, it would be easy to just grab the duvet and curl up on the sofa in front of a roaring fire watching re-runs of Friends for comfort. But I am resolute in my love for late autumn - a mug of hot chocolate awaiting my return from a rain-soaked walk, visits to cosy pubs with real fires, steaming cups of mulled wine - yes, I am a self-confessed lover of this time of year, not least because it can mean only one thing: it's only five weeks till Christmas.

For me, Christmas is about getting together with friends and family, cooking, eating and celebrating just being together. I love planning and cooking a big roast dinner for my family on Christmas day, or thinking about what nibbles to provide at our party for friends the week before. No Christmas cooking challenge is too daunting for me (she foolishly says) - which is why I leapt at the chance to take part in the Matthew Walker Pudding Challenge to create a delicious new dessert from their venerable 'Recipe 13' pudding. All sorts of festive goodies sprang instantly to mind - truffles, ice cream, creme brulee, spicy strudel - but in the end I plumped for a dessert that would take me straight back to my childhood: a good old-fashioned trifle. Christmas is all about home comforts, after all ...

Boozy Christmas Pudding Trifle
Serves 2

Ingredients:
1 x 100g Matthew Walker ‘The Pudding’
1 orange, peeled and segmented
Half a pint of custard (3 egg yolks, 25g sugar, 300ml milk)
100ml double (or whipping) cream
1 tbsp icing sugar
Brandy
Good quality dark chocolate, grated, for decoration

Method:
1. Soak the orange segments in brandy for a few hours, or overnight.
2. Remove the pudding from its packaging and slice into 4 pieces.
3. Make the custard sauce: whisk the egg yolks with the sugar until light and fluffy; heat the milk until almost boiled, then whisk half of it into the egg mix; return this back to the pan of milk and heat gently over a low heat, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon, until the custard thickens.
4. Place a slice or two of Christmas pudding in a martini glass (or other decorative glass or bowl). Arrange some orange segments on top, along with some of the brandy-juice to soak the pudding. Pour the warm custard over to cover the fruit and place in the fridge to chill for a while.
5. Whisk the cream, icing sugar and brandy together until just firm - not like butter. Spoon the cream over the chilled trifles and sprinkle with grated chocolate.

This is a sure-fire festive favourite. Grab a spoon and dig in!

Curried Parsnip and Apple Soup

Autumn has well and truly set in round my way, with cloudless blue skies overhead and masses of alternately crisp and soggy leaves underfoot. Edinburgh certainly knows how to do autumn well.

This time of year brings both a glut of wonderful root veg in my weekly organic box, and the desire to really spice things up in an attempt to keep warm from the inside out. To me, parsnips are the king of the root veg, and I love them in any form - roasted, mashed, even in cakes from time to time - but there is something about their savoury sweetness that makes them ideal to transform into velvety smooth soups. And they happen to go particularly well with curry spices. So the other day I came up with this delicate soup, both to warm me up on a cold Wednesday afternoon and to serve as my entry for this month's No Croutons Required competition over at Lisa's Kitchen. It's a real winter warmer, sure to brighten even the dullest, wettest day.

Curried Parsnip & Apple Soup
Serves 4

Ingredients:
3 large parsnips, peeled and chopped
1 onion, chopped
1 clove garlic, crushed
1 tsp curry powder
1 tbsp flour
800ml vegetable stock
1 large cooking apple, peeled, cored and chopped
1 tbsp olive oil and 25g butter
salt & pepper
50ml milk (optional)

Method:
1. Heat the oil and butter in large saucepan. Saute onions until soft, add garlic and parsnips and cook gently for a few minutes.
2. Add curry powder and flour, stir to coat the veg and cook for no more than two minutes to prevent the spices from burning.
3. Add the stock and apples and stir well. Simmer for about 20 minutes until the parsnips and apples are tender but not mushy.
4. Blend the soup into a velvety puree. Add a splash of milk if desired and more stock/water if the soup is too thick.
5. Serve with crispy garlic croutons, toasted pumpkin seeds or a swirl of creme fraiche.

Granny Chisholm's Clootie Dumpling

There are some things, usually food related I find, that can transport you back to childhood in an instant. It might be the smell of your mum's chicken casserole, the memory of licking the spoon after a marathon cake-baking session, or the sight of a stack of pancakes for Sunday breakfast. For me, it is Clootie Dumpling. My granny was a wonderful, traditional Scottish cook - mince and tatties, tablet, raspberry jam were all staples - but her greatest recipe, and the one she is most fondly remembered for, was good old clootie dumpling. My family (particularly my uncle) still celebrates birthdays with a clootie instead of the more modern sponge confections, and New Year dinners wouldn't be the same without one.

It seems incredible that I had never attempted to make a clootie dumpling myself, considering how important the recipe has been in my life. Since my granny passed away, the clootie mantle has been passed to my aunt, who lovingly prepares a sumptuous, bulging clootie for my uncle's birthday each year. But recently I've been thinking it's time for me to have a go, to keep the clootie dumpling alive in my generation instead of allowing it to become a relic of the past. Yes it's traditional, yes it's old-fashioned, but I think that's to be celebrated rather than ignored.

So here it is, my granny's clootie dumpling, kept alive into the Noughties.

Serves a big hungry family.

Ingredients:
1 cup shredded suet (vegetarian suet is available)
1 cup breadcrumbs
1 cup self-raising flour
1 cup caster sugar
1 cup sultanas
1 cup currants
1 cup milk
1 grated carrot OR 1 grated apple
1 large teaspoon cinnamon
1 large teaspoon mixed spice
1 teaspoon bicarbonate of soda

Method:
1. Mix all ingredients together in a large bowl until thoroughly combined.
2. Flour a large sheet of greaseproof paper and place the clootie mix upon it. Place in a large cloth and then double wrap inside another teatowel/muslin (or old pillowcase!) Secure firmly with string. The clootie should be taking shape now - it should look a bit like a curling stone.
3. Place on an upturned plate in a large heavy pan with about 5cm water and steam on a low heat for 4-5 hours, topping up the water when it gets too low.
4. Remove the clootie from the pan, carefully unwrap it and place on a baking tray in a medium overn (160 C / gas mark 3) for 15 minutes. This will allow the clootie to dry out and form its traditional 'skin'.
5. Remove from the oven, cut into generous slices and serve with either custard, cream or just a sprinkling of caster sugar. Or, for a more modern twist, try serving with a dollop of creme fraiche.

Smoked Garlic Risotto with King Scallops and Prosecco

I was inspired to create this combination of flavours after Niamh at Eat Like a Girl posted a competition on her blog recently. The aim: to find a dish that matches perfectly the fresh fruitiness of Prosecco - Bisol Jeio Prosecco, to be precise. Well, that got me thinking, as in my experience Prosecco has been served more as an aperitif than as an accompaniment to a meal. But I loved the idea of having a glass of chilled, sparkling Prosecco to sip along with a sumptuous treat of a supper dish - and once this seed of thought was planted, I could not get the idea of a rich, creamy risotto out of my mind, delicate in flavour and accompanied by a trio of the freshest king scallops, simply panfried. Why not go a step further and use the Prosecco in the cooking too? Ah yes, that seals the deal. To me, this is a match made in foodie heaven. I wonder if Niamh agrees . . .


Smoked Garlic Risotto with King Scallops and Prosecco
Serves 2

Ingredients:
1 onion, finely chopped
2 sticks celery, finely chopped
3 cloves smoked garlic, finely chopped
1 mug of Arborio risotto rice
1 glass Prosecco
1 litre of warm vegetable or fish stock
chopped chives
juice of half a lemon
butter
salt & pepper
6 king scallops (roes removed), seasoned on each side with salt & pepper

Method:
1. Heat some olive oil in a heavy-based pan and gently saute the onion and celery for a couple of minutes. Add the smoked garlic and fry for a minute or two until the flavours are aromatic, but take care not to let the garlic colour.
2. Add the rice to the pan and stir to mix the flavours thoroughly. Pour over a glass of Prosecco and enjoy the sizzle for a minute until all the wine is absorbed.
3. Add the warm stock a ladleful at a time, waiting until each has absorbed into the rice before adding the next. (The rice should end up just past al dente stage, but not so soft that it turns into a mush.)
4. When enough stock has been absorbed into the rice, add a generous knob of butter to the pan, a good squeeze of lemon juice, some chopped chives, and season to taste. Stir together to make the risotto gloriously shiny.
5. Meanwhile, cook the scallops. Heat some olive oil and a knob of butter in a frying pan, making sure the pan is good and hot before adding the seasoned scallops. Fry for 1 to 2 minutes on either side, depending on the size of the scallop, until they are golden brown. Set aside to rest while putting the finishing touches to the risotto.
6. Serve the golden scallops perched on top of a bowl of the shimmering risotto, along with a glass of chilled Prosecco, of course.

Hearty Tuscan Bean Soup

I found myself pottering around my kitchen on Saturday afternoon, feeling slightly fuzzy round the edges after one too many glasses of wine the night before, but blissfully happy in the knowledge that I had no plans, nowhere to be, and that it was just horrible enough outside to justify my staying indoors all day.

So instead of reaching for the frozen pizza - as I am wont to do on such occasions - I began flicking through a few of the blogs I like to follow, and I came upon this month's No Croutons Required competition, hosted by Jacqueline at Tinned Tomatoes. In the spirit of our recession-hit times, the theme this time is frugality, and the aim is to create a vegetarian soup (or salad) using only storecupboard ingredients, plus whatever you can find in the fridge. That got me thinking - hey, I've got a tin of tomatoes in the cupboard, and a tin of butter beans, plus there's all that veg from our weekly organic box that needs using up ...

And so, with an added dash of inspiration after watching Nigel Slater's new programme the other day, I set about creating my competition entry. A kind of autumnal, warming bean soup with hints of our holiday in Italy earlier this year, I'm calling it my Hearty Tuscan Bean Soup. It's truly one of the most delicious things I've eaten in a long time - far better than that frozen pizza I'd had my eyes on...


Hearty Tuscan Bean Soup
Serves 4

Ingredients:
1 onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 stick celery, 1 carrot and 1 red pepper, all coarsely chopped
tin butter beans, drained and rinsed
tin chopped tomatoes
500ml vegetable stock
squeeze of tomato puree
the heel of a chunk of parmesan or pecorino, if desired/available (thanks to NS for this idea!)
pinch oregano
a few sprigs fresh thyme, chopped
salt and freshly ground pepper

Method:
1. Saute the onion and garlic in some olive oil for a few minutes, until soft but not brown. Add the chopped veg and continue to saute, covered, for a further 5 minutes.
2. Add the tomatoes, stock and tomato puree, stir well and bring to a simmer. Throw in the end of a chunk of parmesan or pecorino, if you happen to have one hiding in the back of the fridge.
3. Add the herbs and seasoning, along with the butter beans, and simmer a few more minutes until the flavours have melded together and the cheese is meltingly soft but not broken up.
4. Remove the cheese from the pot, check the seasoning, and serve the soup with some rustic Italian bread and maybe a drizzle of olive oil.

Sigara Boregi

These cheese pastries are very common on Turkish mezze plates, and although not exactly friendly on the arteries, in small doses they are delcious, smile-inducing and just a little bit exotic. It can't hurt every now and again...

Cheese Pastries
Makes 30

Ingredients:
8-10 sheets yufka pastry - or filo pastry would work just as well
4 eggs
450g Turkish cheese such as beyaz peynir - or feta
large bunch of fresh mint, parsley and dill, chopped
sunflower oil for frying

Method:
1. Mash the cheese, eggs and herbs into a paste in a large bowl.
2. Lay the pastry on a flat floured surface and cut into long strips, 8cm wide by 20cm long.
3. Take a strip at a time and place a teaspoon of the cheese mix onto the end nearest you. Fold the corners over the mixture to seal it, then roll away from you to create tight, cigar-like rolls. Seal the pastry shut with a dab of water.
4. Heat the oil in a shallow pan - enough for deep-frying. Fry the boregi in batches for approx 3 mins until they are golden brown and crisp. Drain on kitchen paper and serve warm.

50 ways with an aubergine?

This was the first dish we made at the Istanbul cookery class, and I reckon it was the biggest hit. Apparently the Turkish have about 50 ways of cooking aubergine, and if you've ever eaten at a Turkish restaurant - at home or in Turkey - you can see that this is likely!

Aubergines with Onion & Tomato
Serves 2 as a side dish

Ingredients:
2 aubergines
1 green pepper, chopped
1 large onion (or 3 shallots), finely sliced
3 large tomatoes, skinned, deseeded and chopped
Squeeze of tomato puree
6 cloves garlic, finelly chopped
bunch parsley, dill and basil, finely chopped
1 tsp salt
150ml olive/sunflower oil
60ml water
Slices of green pepper and tomato

Method:
1. Remove bottom inch of each aubergine, but leave stalk intact. Peel skin in strips, leaving some on to allow aubergine to retain shape.
2. Gently fry onion, garlic and peppers until cooked and soft. Add the tomatoes and puree and stir well.
3. In deepish (one inch) hot oil fry the aubergines gently until brown all over (about 5-8 mins). Drain on kitchen paper.
4. Add water and salt to the tomato mix to make a soup-like consistency. Simmer until this has cooked down.
5. Arrange aubergines in a tray or oven dish and pack the veg and tomato mixture all around. Arrange slices of pepper and tomato over the whole tray.
6. Cook in the oven (180C) for about 15-20 minutes and serve with a squeeze of lemon juice and some warm, fresh pide bread.

Istanbul Cooking Class

On a recent trip to Istanbul, the Monkey and I happened on a leaflet advertising a cooking class at a hotel near where we were staying, tucked in behind the Blue Mosque. Well, it would be a shame to leave this wonderful, exciting, vibrant city without learning at least some of the secrets of the delicious food we'd been tasting. Lots of aubergines, pulses, vine leaves, haloumi cheese, all brought together with a vivid array of spices - not to mention the freshest of fish - make Istanbul a foodie's dream and a sheer delgiht to visit. You'd never go hungry, that's for sure!

And so we rocked up at the cooking class on the appointed day, and met our fellow classmates - a group of five friends from Iceland, and two American ladies who were family friends. We made a happy, lively bunch as we donned our aprons and washed our hands ready to get stuck in to a bit of learning.

First up was what, on paper, sounds like a very simple dish: Aubergines with Onion and Tomato. But once the aubergine has been fried and the tomatoes have been bubbling with plenty of herbs and seasoning for a while, it turns into a sumptuous, almost decadent dish that's just crying out to be mopped up with plenty pide bread.

Next was Sigara Boregi, or fried cheese pastries. Not exactly the arteries' best friend but what the heck, we're on holiday.

The final savoury dish were dolmas, vine leaves stuffed with meat instead of the usual rice. Lamb is a very popular meat in Turkey - as throughout the Middle East - and seasoned with mint, parsley, dill and lemon juice, it goes well with the vine leaves' distinctive flavour.

To finish it all we made a simple Turkish rice pudding, using only milk, sugar and rice, to be served cold with a sprinkling of cinnamon at the end of our feast.

Emerging from the hotel's sweaty, cramped kitchen into the dining room, we were greeted with the twin delights of a cold beer and the fruits of our labours, and enjoyed a happy hour sharing travel stories with our new friends.

Eating Naked

There's a new food delivery service round our way that I think deserves a plug - for its attitude to food, for its ingredient sourcing, for its customer service, and, most importantly, for the food it delivers.

The Naked menu is short and to the point, with options along the lines of ribeye steak and chips, curry goat, caesar salad and meatballs - plus they usually have some specials too, if you remember to ask. The food arrives in the cutest little boxes, tied with string and complete with handwritten labels - it sure beats your average Chinese or Indian takeaway service!

I wrote about Naked recently for The List, Edinburgh & Glasgow's fortnightly listings magazine, and you can read that here.

If you're based in Edinburgh and feel in need of some nutritious convenience food of an evening, give Naked a go. Maybe put some clothes on first though ...

Oh I do like to be beside the seaside...

Ah, Whitby. The fresh sea air, the donkeys on the beach, the clinking and whistling of the beach-front amusement aracades - all are the makings of a fantastic weekend away with friends. And let's not forget a monstrous plate of fish 'n' chips at the world-famous Magpie Cafe. It's usually necessary to queue for a good half hour before getting a table, but the smell of vinegar and fry, not to mention the sense of anticipation, only add to the experience. And yes, the food is as good as they say . . .

Another treat my friend Kay and I discovered during our Whitby weekend was the now-legendary (in our world) curd tart. Traditionally made from bisling milk (the first milk produced by a cow having given birth to a calf), the same result can be achieved by using good whole milk. I've not yet tried my hand at the recipe yet, but I certainly intend to. They're so good!


So hats off to Whitby for its good old-fashioned seaside fun, complete with sticks of rock, fish 'n' chips, arcade games ... and a whole lotta goths.

Istanbul - Foodie Paradise

Plov Plov Plov!!

Plov is Uzbekistan's national dish, and can be found in most restaurants across the country. The key ingredients of rice, meat (usually mutton), carrot and gallons of cotton oil are universal, but we found some regional varitions which added chickpeas and/or raisins to the mix. In Bukhara we were lucky enough to go to a family home to see how this evocative dish is made before feasting on a generous spread of soup, salad, bread, nuts and, of course, plov. So, here's how it's done...

Step One: simmer the meat, chopped carrot and onion in a lot of oil (cotton oil if possible) for about an hour, until very tender. This should ideally be done over a charcoal burner.

Step Two: gather the other key ingredients: washed rice (very like risotto or paella rice), cooked chickpeas and raisins, along with some salt. Mix the chickpeas and raisins with the cooked carrots and meat.

Step Three: spoon the rice on top of the rest of the mixture, but don't stir in - the rice should form a seal on top of the rest of the ingredients.


Step Four: cover with a tight lid and leave to cook for another 45-60 minutes, stirring towards the end to loosen up the rice and mix in the other ingredients.

Serve in generous portions, with bread and salad as accompaniments. Wash it all down with surprisingly decent Uzbek red wine (dry not sweet) and try not to think about what all that oil is doing to your waistline!

So, what's the food like in Uzbekistan?!?

Well, mostly it's about the meat. Lamb, mutton, chicken - probably some goat and horse thrown in there for good measure. Butchery isn't much of an art here, so there are no fillets, no lamb chops, and if you only like the breast of a chicken, you've come to the wrong place. Here the meat is chopped crudely with huge cleavers, and arrives on your plate complete with bone, skin and, most unappetisingly, unfathomable quantities of fat. Boy do they love their fat in Uzbekistan! It's all tasty enough, but not pretty to eat - and while the first five shish kebabs of a two-week holiday might taste deliciously exotic, upon realising that these compose the main part of the country's diet, the lack of variety soon becomes ... well, slightly dull to be truthful! But the smell of barbecuing lamb, smoky and savoury, is an intrinsic part of Uzbekistan life, and will forever take me back to Samarkand, Bukhara, Khiva and all the other beautiful places we visited on our trip.

Thankfully, it is also possible to find fruit and veg, especially in the lush and verdant Fergana Valley in the east of the country, where we spent the first three days of our trip. Produce markets abound in this fertile area, the beauty being that very little food is imported, so seasonality is everything. May is the time for luscious strawberries, juicy tomatoes, plump cherries and a baffling array of potato varieties. The traders put a huge amount of effort into displaying their produce carefully and beautifully - some of them producing real works of art - which makes wandering around these bustling markets a true pleasure.


The observant reader will have spotted that pescatarian Hippo may have struggled to find food in a double-landlocked country so clearly obsessed with animal flesh. Well, yes, that's true to a point. But by lowering expectations in terms of variety (and indulging in the occasional Snickers bar - OK, so they do import some food) I actually managed fine by grazing on handfuls of nuts, fruits and sweet treats picked up at various markets, and by sampling the various salad options that were presented to me along the way. The most baffling of these was referred to as "fresh salad" (as opposed to old, mouldy salad?!) which in all parts of the country consists of tomato and cucumber, sometimes with onion and always with dill. Dill is omnipresent in Uzbekistan. They have a multitude of herbs to choose from - we saw basil, coriander, parsley, thyme, you name it -but dill is certainly the herb du jour. Salad on its own might have made for a fortnight of meagre mealtimes, but happily there was always non. Non (bread) is the staple food of Uzbekistan, and the one foodstuff that actually varies from area to area. In the east it is fluffy inside and crisp on the outside; in central Samarkand it is more chewy, like a bagel; and in western Khiva the bread is flatter and altogether crisper. In all cases, however, non is cheap, tasty, comforting and, this pescatarian can confirm, makes wonderful tomato sandwiches.

Hungriest Hippo's back!

Yes, it's true. Although I've been slightly neglectful of the old blog as I a) became super-busy at work and then b) went gallivanting around Uzbekistan and Istanbul on holiday, I'm now back at home, cooking and eating like never before, and ready to write about it all. Stand by for tales of shashlick kebabs and plov, for mezze and Turkish cookery class, for chocolate cookies and anything else that takes my fancy in the coming days. It's good to be back. Cheers!

Risotto with Leeks and Spring Greens

The Monkey and I have recently joined a veg box scheme from the wonderfully groovy Phantassie Farm (what a fantastic name!) in East Lothian. With all sorts of options available to us, we plumped in the beginning for a small mixed fruit'n'veg box, excluding potatoes as we don't eat so many of them these days. In the first delivery was an abundance of seasonal produce - plump cauliflower, fat, dirty carrots, juicy leeks, green pepper and some small red onions - along with a large mystery bundle of greenery that I struggled to identify. Not a problem: a quick email to the farm and the mystery was solved. Turns out these were the first of the early spring greens, which I was told should be sliced thinly and cooked quickly - much as you would kale or cabbage, I suppose.

Inspired by this bounty I rustled up this tasty risotto for a quick midweek supper - a total experiment, but then often the best dishes are.

Leek & Spring Green Risotto
Serves 2

Ingredients:
2 leeks, trimmed and sliced
half a red chilli, de-seeded and chopped
2 cloves garlic, crushed
120g risotto rice
glug (ablut 100 mls) of white wine
1.5 litres of vegetable stock
bundle of spring greens, stalks sliced and leaves shredded
butter, olive oil

Method:
1. Heat a little oil in a heavy based pan and add a handful of the chopped leeks along with the garlic and chilli. Saute for a few minutes.

2. Add the rice and stir round to mix with the other ingredients. Splash in the wine, savour the wonderful smell, and stir well. Turn the heat down and simmer until the wine has been absorbed.

3. Throw in the chopped spring green stalks as they will take a while to cook. Add the stock bit by bit, letting each addition absorb into the rice before adding the next.

4. Meanwhile, in a wok or frying pan, saute the remaining leeks until they are soft and golden. Add the green leaves and stir-fry quickly until they are just cooked but not mushy.

5. When the risotto has absorbed enough stock it will be rich and creamy, the rice still slightly al dente. Stir in a nob of butter and season with salt and pepper.

6. Mix the leeks and greens into the risotto and serve in large bowls with a few shavings of parmesan and a glass of chilled white wine on the side.

Buon appetito!

The Larder

Allow me to introduce a new arrival, my baby, my little bundle of joy . . .

No, I haven't just given birth without telling anyone - don't panic! Rather this is the birth of a more literary being, the result of eight months of dedication, imagination and sheer hard graft from a small but extremely dedicated team at Edinburgh's List magazine.

The Larder is a celebration of Scottish food and drink - what it is, where to buy it and how to cook it - as well as a directory of the best shops, farms and chefs we have in this abundant country. In seven chapters the book guides you through the difference between bannocks and butteries, explains the science behind various cuts of beef, and gives guidance on cooking the many and varied fruits of our seas. And that's just for starters.

Nothing could be more relevant in these credit-crunching, carbon-monitoring times than a focus on local, seasonal and natural produce, and that is why The Larder deserves a place on all keen Scottish foodies' book shelves - and no, I'm not just saying that because I part-wrote, edited and project-managed the thing. Get hold of a copy and you'll see what I mean!

The Perfect Sandwich?

As I was flicking through our local free arts'n'culture paper The Skinny a couple of weeks ago a competition caught my eye. The idea was to come up with the perfect sandwich combination for Coffee Angel, a new coffee shop just opened in the Canonmills area of Edinburgh. We all know I love to think about food, constantly, and so I just had to have a go at this. The temptation was to go completely off the wall, to try something outlandish (hummus, coleslaw and green olives, anyone?), but truthfully I think the simplest combinations make for the best sarnies. Quality ingredients, proper fresh bread and a whole lot of flavour are the key.

After coming across a pack of Rannoch Smnokery smoked venison in Valvona & Crolla, my decision was made for me. My competition entry is a sandwich of smoked venison, rocket and zingy chilli jam on the freshest of granary bread, with just a smear of butter. A delicious combination, for sure, and not at all outlandish ...

In the Bag - March

Fellow food blogger Julia runs the wonderful and super-successful A Slice of Cherry Pie, on which every month she holds a competition to come up with the best recipe using seasonal ingredients in an appealing and tasty way. Since the ingredients in the bag for March are leeks, cheese and eggs, I thought I would face up to one of my culinary nemeses: the souffle.

Leeks, eggs and cheese are good friends, and I thought about going for a quiche or a pie or perhaps a Spanish omelette, but then I admitted to myself that it's time I got over the Collapsed Souffle Incident of 2005 and begin afresh with the deceptively tricksy egg dish. So here goes...


Blue Cheesy Leek Souffles
Makes 2 individual large ramekins (or 4 small ones)

Ingredients:
1 large leek, finely chopped
25g butter + a bit more for the leeks
25g plain flour
200ml milk
2 eggs
25g blue cheese, crumbled
salt & pepper

Method:
1. Preheat the oven to 180C. Grease the ramekins with butter. Separate the eggs, keeping the yolks in reserve and placing the whites into a large mixing bowl.

2. Melt a knob of butter in a frying pan. Saute the leeks for a few minutes until golden and tender.

3. Melt the rest of the butter in a saucepan. Stir in the flour and cook for one minute. Add the milk bit by bit and bring to the boil, stirring until the bechamel sauce is blended. Simmer for two minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Remove from the heat and leave to cool slightly.

4. Stir the cheese and leeks into the sauce, then beat in the egg yolks.

5. Whisk the egg whites until stiff. Stir 1 tbsp whisked egg whites into the sauce to lighten it and then slowly fold in the rest.

6. Spoon the eggy mix into the prepared ramekins, place on a baking tray and bake until well risen and golden - about 20 minutes. Serve straight away with a big green well-dressed salad.

And it worked! Not scary at all. What on earth was I so worried about?

Bon appetit!

Top 5 Breakfasts on holiday

Spring is here, which means that summer is just around the corner, right? That got me thinking about my upcoming holiday plans (to Uzbekistan, of all places, but that's another story) and I started reminiscing about the glorious morning repasts I've encountered on my travels.

I'm a fan of the weekend breakfast - we've talked about this before - but there's something about being on holiday, with fewer cares and more time to spare, that makes that first meal of the day even more of a treat. Lingering over the local paper or reading a guide book to learn more about your destination; hanging out with your travelling companion discussing plans for the day ahead; making promises to yourself that you'll start eating healthily again the moment you arrive home - these morning moments are part of what makes travelling so special to me, and why I've come up with my Top 5 Holiday Breakfasts. Dig in!

1. American pancakes with strawberries and maple syrup
Bucks in Woodside, California is a legendary breakfast hangout of Silicon Valley's rich and famous technology entrepreneurs. The Monkey and I went there (twice) in a week-long holiday visiting our good friend Pete, and ate these beautiful fluffy pancakes stacked high and served with fresh strawberries, ladles of maple syrup and a bottomless mug of strong filter coffee.

2. Roti Chanai with super-sweet tea
The Monkey can often be found raiding the fridge in the early hours of a post-takeaway morning, mopping up curry sauce with leftover peshwari naan for breakfast. It's a less than endearing habit, but when in Malaysia, do as the Malaysians do ... Curry breakfasts may be hard to get your head round but once I tasted soft, flaky roti bread dipped in hot spicy curry sauce for the first time, I knew I was in love. Especially when it's washed down with mugs of tea made with super-sweet condensed milk, and all for the eqivalent of about 50p. What a treat.

3. Huevos Rancheros
Back to the Americas for another spicy start to the day. Many of my favourite things combine on one plate here: corn tortillas, fried eggs, tomato, refried beans, fried potatoes, maybe some avocado and of course, lashings of green Tabasco sauce for a bit of extra spicing. Not an everyday (or even an every-week) brekkie, for the arteries' sake but that's what holidays are for...

4. French baguette with Marmite
In theory this is so wrong - such a quintessentially British product spread on France's daily bread - but the proof is in the tasting. Trust me. The creaminess of French unsalted butter, the saltiness of love-it-or-hate-it Marmite, the crunch of the baguette - it's a match made in heaven. Or should I say paradis?

5. An Everything Bagel with butter, marmite and sliced tomato
Not strictly a holiday breakfast, this one, but it's an homage to the wonderful Wholly Bagels, Wellington, where I worked for six months in the cold and windy winter of 2005. Starting work at 6.45 every morning would have been a whole lot tougher without one of these beauties and my daily fix of three espressos to kickstart my customer-service smile.

Now, I wonder what they eat for brekkie in Uzbekistan...

Rhubarb and Ginger Baked Cheesecake

Spring is in the air, can you feel it? The days are getting longer, the daffodils and crocuses are blooming, and pink, gorgeous rhubarb is for sale in all the greengrocers. It's a glorious time of year - a time for regeneration, for looking forward, for long walks in the countryside and leisurely lunches with family and friends.

The Monkey and I had our siblings and mothers over for Sunday lunch yesterday, the first time this year we'd all been together round the kitchen table for chats and giggles. I decided a celebratory treat was in order, so tracked down (and adapted slightly) this gorgeous recipe for a baked rhubarb cheesecake with just a hint of gingery spice. The perfect way to follow up Monkey's chicken and leek pies, and a deliciously decadent Sunday afternoon dessert.


Makes 8 very generous portions

Ingredients
500g rhubarb
1 piece Chinese stem ginger in syrup, finely chopped, plus 2 tbsp syrup from the jar
175g caster sugar
175g pack ginger snaps
50g butter, melted
500g tubs mascarpone cheese
2 tbsp cornflour
3 large eggs

Method
1. Preheat oven to 180C and grease the base of a 22cm springform cake tin
2. Chop the rhubarb into 2cm pieces and place in a saucepan with the stem ginger, syrup, 100g of the caster sugar and 4 tablespoons cold water. Poach for about 10 mins, until the rhubarb is tender. Drain the rhubarb into a bowl, reserving the juices.
3. Coarsely crush the biscuits in a large plastic food bag with a rolling pin. Tip into a bowl, stir in the melted butter and mix well. Tip into the tin and press down firmly with back of a spoon. Put in the fridge to cool while making the filling.
4. Use an electric whisk to beat together the mascarpone, cornflour, eggs and remaining sugar for 1-2 minutes until smooth. Spoon the strained rhubarb into the mascarpone mixture, using a metal spoon to swirl gently so as not to over-mix. Pour into the cake tin and bake for about 45 mins, until golden and firm. Leave to cool completely before removing from the tin.
5. Dust with icing sugar and cut into wedges. Serve drizzled with the reserved rhubarb syrup.