Saffron Strands

Blueberry Muffins

noreply@blogger.com (Evie) — Thu, 24 Aug 2023 11:23:00 +0000

Blueberry Muffins

It's more years ago than I care to remember. It's my first visit to the USA, it's Labor Day and we're driving south from Boston. Cape Cod beckons but it's getting late and we decide to stay overnight in Hyannis Port. The bustle of the City is well and truly left behind. The hotel corridor is bare breeze block. An ice machine fills the space with a persistent hum, its contents in high demand we were to discover as crashing cubes of ice hitting plastic buckets punctuated our sleep into the early hours. Dinner at 10pm? Forget it. A bottle of soda from the vending machine on the 'High Street' is all the sustenance we can find tonight. We go to bed hungry. Next day we're lurching, the way American cars do, or did, along empty roads under a perfect blue sky, breakfastless. Then we pull into Chatham - all white clapboard and grey shingle and picture postcard pretty. We smell the bakery before we see it and declare it good, though frankly we'd eat anything by this point. There are real muffins and pound cakes, made with butter rather than ? And they taste so good.

Blueberry Muffin

Now that the English blueberry harvesting season is gathering pace and the price is finally coming down, it's blueberry muffin time. I yield to no one in my love of a good blueberry muffin but it took me some time to find a great blueberry muffin. I can't claim this recipe as my own as the only hand I had in it was to convert it from US measures but I've made it many times, tweaked it every now and then, so I know it works. It may only be a muffin but, like many foods, it evokes memories.

Blueberry Muffins (makes 12)

200g caster sugar

120g butter (at room temperature)

2 medium eggs

250g plain flour

1 level teaspoon baking powder

½ teaspoon bicarbonate soda

¼ teaspoon salt

150ml soured cream

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1-2 tablespoon milk

Grated rind of half a lemon

250g blueberries

Crumble Topping

60g plain flour

35g cold butter

35g caster sugar

Pre-heat oven to 190C/170C Fan/375F/gas 5. Butter a 12 cup deep muffin tin - I like to line the cups with greaseproof paper squares too.

Make the crumble topping by rubbing the butter into the flour and mixing in the sugar then place in the fridge while you mix the muffins.

Cream butter and sugar well. Beat in eggs gradually. In a separate bowl, combine dry ingredients and fold into wet mixture alternately with the soured cream. Add vanilla extract, milk and lemon rind and blend lightly until smooth. Gently fold in blueberries. Fill tins almost to the top. Add a spoonful of crumble topping then bake the muffins for 25 minutes.

Allow to cool for 5 minutes before lifting them out of the tin.

Five Books for Food Book Lovers 2021

noreply@blogger.com (Evie) — Thu, 02 Dec 2021 20:18:00 +0000

Here we are, entering another December with countries around the world in various stages of restrictions and lockdowns with the inevitable challenges a global pandemic entails. At this time, I’m sure I’m not the only one who has found books more important to life than ever. Here are my top 5 ‘food’ books for 2021. As usual there are new ones, a book I’ve been wanting to buy for years, and one that has more than earned it’s place on my bookshelf over the, well, decades.

First the recently published books, only one of which has actual recipes - partly due to the fact that a couple of others I might have bought have not yet appeared in the bookshops I’ve been supporting. Maybe I’ll find them in 2022:

English Pastoral by James Rebanks

English Pastoral by James Rebanks

James Rebanks' follow up book to his phenomenally successful The Shepherd’s Life, English Pastoral, takes you behind the beautiful scenery of the Lake District into the raw realities of life in one of our rural farming communities. It chronicles three generations of a family and their life on a Lake District farm starting with the author’s Grandfather, working in an ancient agricultural landscape with a variety of crops, grazing land, meadows and hedgerows teeming with wildlife. Rebanks takes the reader through the last days of working the land in harmony with nature, through the post-war decades of intensification of farming and the devastating effect it has had on the natural world. By the time the author had inherited the farm, rural landscapes were being brought close to collapse and communities were being lost. On the family farm stone barns had crumbled, birds had disappeared from the sky and wildlife had become a rare sight. Rebanks looked to the past to try to restore life to the landscape - putting farming and nature back together is how he sees it - and leave a legacy for the future. By restoring love and pride in a place, Rebanks believes it may still be possible to build a new pastoral, “somewhere decent for us all”.

James Rebanks has very firm views and not everyone agrees with his approach. He has reintroduced native cattle to improve his pastures and under his stewardship there are wildflowers in the meadows, birds in the skies and wildlife in the hedgerows on a productive family farm. His Instagram posts can make farming life look wonderfully bucolic, full of beautiful robust Herdwick Sheep and Belted Galloway cattle, but his words on the real state of farming in the UK and beyond can bring you back to earth with a thump. He believes passionately that with respect for the old ways and understanding of the complexities of farming for the future, change is achievable. This is a heartfelt cry for a healthier countryside by learning from the past to go forward into the future.

English Pastoral has already won the Wainwright Prize for Nature Writing 2021 and it’s fitting that it was shortlisted for the Orwell Prize for Political Writing 2021. An important work, beautifully written and destined to be a classic, I think.

Eating to Extinction by Dan Saladino

Eating to Extinction by Dan Saladino

Eating to Extinction is subtitled ‘The World’s Rarest Foods and Why We Need to Save Them’. It is very much a book for our times, I feel and has parallels with my first book choice, English Pastoral. Inspired by Saladino’s look into The Ark of Taste, an on-line catalogue for foods that are considered to be on the ‘Red List’, that is 'endangered/at risk of extinction'. You may have - as I did - caught Saladino's BBC Radio 4 Series on this subject. This book highlights how we are losing diversity in all the crops that feed the world and explains how a global food system that relies on a shrinking choice of plants and varieties is at great risk of succumbing to disease and pestilence. We should all be listening to this. And, at a time when science is making important connections between what we eat and how it can affect our physical and mental health, it’s a timely reminder that, as Saladino says, farming, food, environment, diet and health are all interconnected.

It’s a shock to read that of the 6,000 plant species humans are known to have eaten over time, the vast majority of us now consume only 9 – rice, wheat and maize accounting for 50% of all calories we consume. Fascinating to be informed that the stomach of a 2,500 year old man found preserved in a Danish peat bog showed his last meal had been a porridge made up of 40+ different plants. And heartening to know that in the present day there is a community of hunter-gatherers in East Africa – the Hazda – who have a link with that peat bog man. They eat from a potential wild menu of 800 plant and animal species.

Through chapters looking at Wild foods, through Cereals, Vegetables, Meat etc we are introduced to – and there will be foods here you’ve never heard of – Murnong, a nutritious root from Australia; Kavilca Wheat from Anatolia; the Ugandan Kayinja Banana (how I’d love to eat a tasty banana again); and, Wild Forest Coffee from Harenna, Ethiopia.

Saladino makes it clear he is not calling for a return to “some kind of halcyon past”, rather he’s asking the reader to consider what we can learn from the past to go forward and “inhabit the world now and in the future”. There is an Epilogue titled ‘Think Like a Hazda’, which poses the question: Are we being good ancestors? One last quote from Saladino: “In an age in which not just food but the entire human experience is converging into a mass of homogeneity, the Hazda remind us that there are many ways to live and be in the world.”

An A-Z of Pasta by Rachel Roddy

An A-Z of Pasta by Rachel Roddy

First, I have to declare a little involvement in this book, in so far as I know the author, Rachel Roddy, and tested some of the recipes to get this book over the line in these strange and difficult times. But I love this book and because of that I wanted it on my 'Favourite Books' page, so, what to do? Put it on, of course. Now you know my partiality and to continue reading or not is up to you.

This is a book about pasta, that most Italian of foods, written by an Englishwoman who has lived in Rome with her Sicilian partner for 16 years, time spent learning, cooking and eating pasta. Like her previous two books, An A-Z of Pasta comes out of an inquisitive mind, a love of the food culture of Italy and a passion for pasta shared with its makers and everyone who cooks this staple food pretty much every day. There are 50 of the hundreds of pasta shapes covered here and over 120 recipes - as the author says, she knows her limitations but she has put in the work and that shows through in this book. READ MORE ......

This book was a gift from the author who is a friend.

The book I finally got round to buying:

Margaret Costa's Four Seasons Cookery Book

Margaret Costa’s Four Seasons Cookery Book

It took a spoonful of sublime Lemon Chutney to wake me up to the fact that although the name Margaret Costa was not unknown to me, there was none of her writing on my bookshelf. And so I am now the owner of Margaret Costa’s Four Seasons Cookery Book, complete with that particular recipe. First published in 1970, this was Costa’s only major book. She died in 1999 but she remains hugely influential with fans like Simon Hopkinson, Nigel Slater and Delia Smith, who wrote the forward to my 2020 Grub Street edition.

I love that the recipes in this book are presented by season – thinking of what foods are actually available in Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter is fundamental to my own cooking. Like Costa I look forward to the first rhubarb and gooseberries of the year, the progression to summer and autumn arrivals, then the winter brassicas and root vegetables of winter.

Margaret Costa became known for her articles and recipes in The Times colour magazine, later writing for other publications like the American Gourmet magazine. I knew her name mainly from references made by chefs and writers to dishes like Lemon Surprise Pudding (which you’ll find in the section on Winter, of course, when the new season citrus arrives); Sorrel Soup for Spring; Tipsy Cake (for Autumn); and, Kippers cooked in a jug of hot water to keep them juicy and leave no lingering smell (works a treat);

The recipes are straightforward, some classics, some shortcuts, all sound. The book is already a favourite.

Lastly, that book from my shelf which continue to be invaluable:

The Roux Brothers on Patisserie
by Michel & Albert Roux

The Roux Brothers on Patisserie by Michel & Albert Roux

First published in 1986, this book by brothers Michel and Albert Roux taught me how to make pastry, for which I will be forever grateful. The Roux brothers shouldn’t need any introduction, so, I won’t spend time on that.

The Roux Brothers on Patisserie starts with basic recipes for pastry and dough, sponge and dessert bases, creams, sauces, fruit coulis and jelly and proved to be a great education. The book is stuffed with recipes for all the classic French Patisserie: tarts, cold and hot sweets & desserts, ice creams & sorbets, canapés & petits fours, tea & picnic cakes, and even a section on sugar work (not really my thing).

I have never come across a better recipe for a Tarte au Citron than the one in this book. And while I cannot ever see myself making a Croquembouche, I can marvel at the photograph of the spectacular one in here and know it is not beyond possibility. Invaluable.

Looking forward to 2022 I have already pre-ordered The Last Bite: A Whole New Approach to Making Desserts Through the Year by Anna Higham (aka Anna at the Table) giving me something to look forward to in late Spring.

Whichever books you choose, happy reading.

An A-Z of Pasta: Stories, Shapes, Sauces, Recipes by Rachel Roddy

noreply@blogger.com (Evie) — Sun, 01 Aug 2021 22:10:00 +0000

An A-Z of Pasta by Rachel Roddy

Vermicelli with clams, courgettes, almonds & breadcrumbs
An A-Z of Pasta

This is a book about pasta, that most Italian of foods, written by an Englishwoman who has lived in Rome with her Sicilian partner for 16 years, time spent learning, cooking and eating pasta. Like her previous two books, an A-Z of Pasta comes out of an inquisitive mind, a love of the food culture of Italy and a passion for pasta shared with its makers and everyone who cooks this staple food pretty much every day. There are 50 of the hundreds of pasta shapes covered here and over 120 recipes - as the author says, she knows her limitations but she has put in the work and that shows through in this book.

It's hard to think of a more travelled food than pasta. How many millions of us around the world have a shelf full of packets of pasta shapes I wonder. This book starts with a quick, practical guide pointing the reader to recipes to suit those shapes most of us habitually have to hand - invaluable for when the direction of dinner needs deciding pronto. There's also a succinct explanation of fresh and dried pastas and how different flours and treatments produce particular shapes and textures suited to particular sauces. Launching into the A-Z of Shapes, each starts with a Story which, for me, serves to enhance my appetite for the Sauces and Recipes that follow.

Making Orecchiette
An A-Z of Pasta

What could be a better start than A for Alfabeto? One of the tiny pastina that needs nothing but a good brodo to satisfy, be it a child chasing the letters to find its name in a bowl - there's a Story about that - or an adult savouring the delight of a good, simple broth. I had a moment's disappointment when I saw the the lovely brothy Peas Roman Style with Anelli (little rings) hadn't made it to the final edit, only to find the recipe had shape-shifted to Q for Quadrucci (little squares). M for Malfade comes with a helping of sobering history as well as tomato sauce and ricotta. M is also for Maltagliati, the "badly cut" pasta, its lack of uniformity being one that we can all make with confidence and perfect to add to a Chickpea and chestnut soup. V for Vermicelli evokes a visit to the church of Santa Maria dell'Orto marvelling at the stained glass and mosaics celebrating the Food Guilds of Rome and is simply matched with clams. But V is also for the voluptuous Vincisgrassi, described by some as a "Baroque Lasagne" for the richness of its ingredients. The version here is inspired by the dish that Ann and Franco Taruschio used to serve at the the iconic Walnut Tree Inn in Wales. Having been lucky enough to eat it there once, this makes me very happy.

There's plenty of hand-holding on the subject of matching shapes with sauces and recommendations for the best alternative shapes to stop you chasing around looking for that elusive Mezze Maniche or Trofie when it's not essential to the dish. The parts played by the geometry of the pasta and the geography dictating ingredients are touched upon. Fresh and dried pastas all have their place here and tinned or frozen ingredients are not disparaged. A lot of the recipes are quick and easy, yet you will find encouragement here too to make a time-consuming Tortellini - I've made it, I know - and you'll very much want to when you read about the 'snack' of Tortellini with Parmesan cream on page 314.

Tortellini in Brodo
An A-Z of Pasta

The design of An A-Z of Pasta is a treat, as you'd expect if you know the author's previous work, and Jonathan Lovekin's photographs are beautiful and devoid of artifice. Saffron Stockers's design is elegant and perfect for the subject, with an egg-yolk yellow cover and delightful endpapers. The dedication is simple and heartfelt - 'To pasta makers and pasta eaters'.

Rigatoni/Paccheri with the sauce of Roman-style oxtail stew
An A-Z of Pasta

As I write, July has drawn to a close. It should feel like high summer, yet the day's greyness wants me to turn to P for Pizzoccheri and make the dish of buckwheat pasta, potatoes, cabbage and cheese that would normally only come to mind in the cold months. Or maybe the Rigatoni with with the sauce of Roman-style oxtail stew. This is indeed the strangest of years, in so many ways, and comforting Recipes that come with helpings of Stories weaving in history, culture and everyday life are very welcome. I'm pleased to have them on my bookshelf and, now, on my Favourite Books page.

This book was a gift from the author

An A-Z of Pasta: Stories, Shapes, Sauces, Recipes by Rachel Roddy

Published by: Fig Tree, Penguin Books

Five Books for Food Lovers 2020

noreply@blogger.com (Evie) — Wed, 16 Dec 2020 22:21:00 +0000

Five Books for Food Lovers 2020

I really wasn’t sure I was going to compile a book list for 2020. In this strangest of years, new publications have necessarily been rather low-key. A shame for the new authors in particular. But I took a look at what had caught my attention this year and thought; well, the stack is pretty damn fine. So here it is.

There’s a book that will make you think about what is right under your nose; one that is a celebration of ten years of collaboration and friendship through food; and a Classic in a similar vein that was published almost 25 years ago. There’s a myth-busting book to make you question what you are fed; and a guide to bread-making that will help you perfect that sourdough habit you acquired over the past 10 months when the kitchen took on more importance.

Nose Dive by Harold McGee

NOSE DIVE A Field Guide to the World’s Smells by Harold McGee

The ancient Greek word for smell or odour is Osme. From this Harold McGee derives his word Osmocosm to describe the thousands of molecules that combine to make up our world of smells. Smells from the routine - wet pavement or cut grass - through the remarkable - vanilla and truffles - to the challenging whiff of swamplands and durians. The nice and the not so nice. In this, his 4th doorstep of a book, McGee’s stated aim is to provide encouragement to become a “smell explorer” and enrich the food life of his readers.

Most things in the world are made up of a mixture of molecules. The distinctive smells of different foods come from their different combination of airborne molecules, known as volatiles from the Latin ‘to fly’. A gooseberry smell is not just one smell but many. McGee lays down these smells as grassy, mushroom, pineapple, apple, and floral, and tells you what those molecule are if you want to know – hexenal, octenol, ethyl etc.

But first, there’s a meal to be had. In the Preface McGee recounts the experience of “My First Grouse” as a way of explaining the intense feelings and memories a smell can provoke. In 600 pages he explains puzzles like why fermented anchovies smell of ham; how orange peel comes to have a waxy, paraffin odour; and why green tea evokes the seashore. How our response to androstinone - the smell of sweat or pork - depends on our particular gene family and why some people dislike the sulphurous smell of coffee or onions and some don’t (depends on the amount of copper in your nose!) You may never smell in quite the same way again. This is a book to dive into if you are curious about “the world aswirl right under our noses”.

Towpath by Lori de Mori and Laura Jackson

Towpath by Lori de Mori and Laura Jackson

A book of recipes and stories based on more than 10 years of cooking and friendships played out in and around the four tiny canal-side kiosks in north east London that make up Towpath, the cafe. Co-owners Lori de Mori and Laura Jackson and their team serve up good unpretentious seasonal food in a unique setting with generosity and warmth. The café is open only from late March to early November as its location is no place to linger after the golden autumn days are done. The opening and closing of Towpath are seasonal markers for locals, though in this craziest of stop-start years our touchstones are somewhat skewed.

This is a book a lot of people, in London and beyond, have been waiting for and it was well worth the wait, I think. But this isn’t just a book for those who miss the cafe for those three months of the year. There is writing and recipes to relish whether you know Towpath or not.

Lori de Mori provides the ‘Stories’ in the book, and undoubtedly they will resonate with regulars in particular, but there is a love and appreciation of people on these pages that everyone can relate to. And then there’s Laura Jackson’s food both comforting and full of interest. Recipes for Peposo, a three-hour traditional Italian stew; a dish of braised lentils, beetroot and ricotta that is endlessly adaptable; and ones like Mozzarella, pickled radicchio and pangrattato that can be put together in a few minutes if you take Laura’s advice and get organised. I was so happy to find Rosie Syke’s Egg & Bacon Pie in here, and the Armenian Spice Cake recipe Laura was given by chef Davo Cook (Moro, Bocca di Lupo and 40 Maltby Street) who I’ve missed so much since he returned to Australia. Then there’s the Towpath breakfast dish of Fried eggs with caramelised sage and chilli butter which I intend to cook more than once over this strangest of Christmases. Oh, and Asparagus with Ajo Blanco to dream about making come spring. There’s a lot to love in this book.

Lulu’s Provençal Table by Richard Olney

LULU’S PROVENÇAL TABLE by Richard Olney

First published in 1994, Richard Olney’s ‘Lulu’s Provençal Table’ probably needs little introduction. It’s a book most people interested in food and food books know about and speak of with fondness, some with reverence. Well, it’s a Richard Olney, after all. An American who moved to France in the 1950s, Olney studied and documented all he learned of the French cuisine and wines he loved so much in several books regarded as culinary classics. The book is Olney’s love letter to Lulu and the whole Peyraud family, owners of the Domaine Tempier Vineyard in Bandol, close to where Olney lived in Provence from 1961 until his death in 1999.

Starting with an introduction to the Peyraud family, the vineyard and the wines, Olney soon moves on to the food cooked, at their home by Lulu Peyraud, from an appetising list of seasonal Provencal menus to Lulu’s Recipes – surely an influence on Alice Waters’ Chez Panisse menus. Waters was a friend of both Richard Olney and Lulu Peyraud and she wrote the Forward to this edition. As the flyleaf states, “This is classic French country cooking, featuring everyday ingredients cooked with respect for their nature and flavour.” The method and ritual of a dish of Bouillabaisse takes up 6 pages but all the simple classic dishes are here from Endives Braissées (Braised Endives) to Lapin à la Moutarde (Rabbit Stew with mustard). At the heart of Lulu Peyraud’s kitchen were local ingredients – some grown, some found in the surrounding countryside, and those bought straight from the fishermen’s landings or butchers’ slabs.

It’s a book for romantics but could also be a book for our times, I think. It was a huge omission from my bookshelf, and one I was determined to correct this year. Lulu Peyraud died in October this year at the age of 102.

Spoon-Fed by Tim Spector

SPOON-FED by Tim Spector

The sub-title of this book, “Why Almost Everything We’ve Been Told About Food is Wrong”, makes clear this is a myth-busting work. Here, Tim Spector, Professor of Epidemiology and expert in personalised medicine and the gut microbiome, examines the lack of good science behind many medical and government food recommendations. He also looks at the enormous influence the food industry has over our food policies.

Starting with the myths around food we grew up with – fish is brain-food, meat gives you big muscles, never skip breakfast, etc – which are not backed-up by science. He goes on to explain why calorie-counting doesn’t add up, examines our obsession with vitamin supplements, the rise in sugar-free (artificially sweetened) foods, and the demonisation of coffee, meat and alcohol. There’s a chapter on the importance of food for mood as well as physical health; one on why veganism isn’t the healthiest choice; and another on why local food isn’t always the best choice (a tough one for me to face up to).

The conclusion is a chapter on How to Eat – a mere 10 pages plus a 12-point plan that takes up a whole page and ends with the encouragement to ‘educate yourself and the next generation in the importance of real food’. The book covers a lot of ground in about 240 pages and recognises not everything is black and white. However, by informing ourselves and questioning what we are told, we are better equipped to make our own choices rather than swallow those food fads and myths we are spoon-fed.

The Sourdough School by Vanessa Kimbell

THE SOURDOUGH SCHOOL

When I started making my own naturally leavened bread I relied completely on the Tartine Bread book – yes I did make the starter, which took 9 days. I put my faith completely in Chad Robertson’s uncompromising method of bread making. And the results were mostly pretty good. But, as with most subjects, one book and one point of view is not enough. I needed another to help me understand better what was going on - why a loaf didn’t always turn out the way I expected it to and what I could do to achieve consistency. This led me to Vanessa Kimbell’s The Sourdough School book – published in 2017 and the book my fellow-bakers invariably recommended. Not only does the author go into plenty of detail about Starters, Leaven, Mixing, Proving and Baking in step-by-step sections but also she tackles digestibility and nutrition issues that have a bearing on our gut microbes and health. The recipes take you from the basic Classic white sourdough boule through to much more interesting bakes like Smoked kibbled rye & wild cherry. There are also plenty of ideas for using ‘discard’ starter, which no bread baker likes to waste. Helpful and inspiring.

Happy reading, whatever books you choose this year.

NB. All books were bought

Café Deco, Bloomsbury

noreply@blogger.com (Evie) — Sun, 13 Dec 2020 18:08:00 +0000

Café Deco, Bloomsbury

Who would open a restaurant in 2020? Anna Tobias quietly opened the doors of Café Deco towards the end of November, In Bloomsbury, long a dining desert in a rather lovely part of town. That 'takeaway lunch/wine shop/traiteur' set-up that so many restaurants have morphed into to be able to survive in this craziest of years was the necessary starting point here, rather than the bar/restaurant intended. Since 4 December, lockdowns permitting, you can book for lunch and dinner. There was no flinging open the doors with a fanfare - though I doubt that was ever the intention for this beautiful, understated space that has the backing of the team behind the influential 40 Maltby Street.

Anna Tobias already has a solid following in London, having worked with Jeremy Lee at the Blueprint Café, at the River Café, as head chef at Rochelle Canteen, and then P.Franco plus many ‘stages’. Highly influenced by the likes of Simon Hopkinson, Jane Grigson and Elizabeth David, and with a deep understanding of middle European cuisines, it’s no wonder I love her food. She’s one of those chefs you know is worth following around and, here, she can cook what she wants to. Though, like all kitchens right now, there will be some figuring out of what people want and what can be achieved in these strange stop-start times. Tobias has already said there will be changes to the food and how it’s offered over the first few months but having eaten here twice, and bought several takeaways here’s an idea of what to expect.

Minestrone Soup at Café Deco, Bloomsbury

A simple egg mayonnaise was punchy with really good mayo; Sweet & sour onions & radicchio could have tasted of nothing but pickle in lesser hands but the sweet/sour/bitter juices were mopped up greedily with good ‘Stockholm’ bread from E5 Bakery; a bowl of Winter Minestrone came thick with the season’s root veg, white and borlotti beans and their cooking stock, finished with twirly Spigariello broccoli and olive oil - deeply satisfying on a bitterly cold day. Mains included a bowl of Fish Stew (hake and mussels), fennel, and potatoes topped with a dollop of aioli and a shower of parsley that was not just there for decoration but for its pronounced flavour; Roast Duck, swede cake & watercress was a beautifully light dish of meltingly tender pink duck accompanied by thinly sliced swede cooked slowly in stock, a spoonful of translucent crab apple jelly on the side.

Sweet & sour onions and radicchio at Café Deco, Bloomsbury

For pudding, were the classic Caramelised Oranges; a light, crunchy Apple Galette served with the best Jersey Cream; and a dense-with-dates Sticky Toffee pudding & vanilla ice cream – heaven for this pudding lover

Fish Stew at Café Deco, Bloomsbury

Some of the wines will be familiar if you either visit 40 Maltby Street or order from Gergovie Wines but, as with the food, Anna Tobias is forging her own path and there are plenty of others, many by the glass Notable amongst the reds is a 1.9.8.4. Bodega La Senda, 2019 (Bierzo) and, on the After Dinner list, El Peluso, Verdevique, 1988.

Sticky Toffee Pudding at Café Deco, Bloomsbury

Café Deco may be all hard surfaces but the colours are soft and the lighting warm. And raise your eyes above door height to take in the beautiful frieze running around the ground floor room, applied with the lightest of touches by artists Harry Darby and Anna Hodgson. A downstairs room by the kitchen and outdoor seating are to come later.

If you can’t get in to eat at this restrictive time, there are lovely things to take away like Mortadella in focaccia, the deepest, most flavourful frittata you are ever likely to encounter, mince pies, tarts, biscuits, wine and, of course, the kind of store cupboard things we’ve become familiar with seeing in café/restaurants this year. Yes, only the brave would be opening a restaurant in 2020 but I’ve a strong feeling this one will endure.

Café Deco

43 Store Street

London WC1E 7DB

Tel: +44 (0)208 091 2108

At time of writing:

Takeway lunch, wine shop & Traiteur Tues-Fri 12-6pm

Lunch Wed-Sat

Dinner Tues-Sat

Save our Cheese

noreply@blogger.com (Evie) — Wed, 22 Apr 2020 17:45:00 +0000

Neals Yard Dairy at Spa Terminus
(Pre-lockdown)

To a good cheesemaker and cheesemonger, every cheese is precious, not just for how much money can be made out of it but for the effort that has gone into selecting the milk, making the cheese, maturing it and getting it to the customer at its best. Right now, in the midst of Covid 19, small-scale British cheesemakers are fighting for their livelihoods. The reasons for this are well explained by Jason Hinds of Neals Yard Dairy in this extract from their latest blogpost:

Not everyone benefited from the pandemic-fuelled sweep that made March a record month for supermarket sales. In fact, as the aisles were cleared of packets and cans, it became clear that the panic buying (and the big retailers’ response to it) would come at a huge cost to some producers. “The soft cheeses, the blue cheeses, even some of the specialist hard cheeses were all cleared to create space for commodities,” Jason explains. “What cheese was sold was cheap, freezable and grateable.” Orders were cancelled, not to be repeated in the foreseeable future, and cheese rejected or sent back to producers. Add to that the restaurant closures and the shutting or markedly reduced capacity of markets and you have “a double whammy” for producers who depend on supermarkets and restaurants as well as specialist suppliers like Neal’s Yard Dairy for income.

Some cheesemakers are more resilient than others, at least in the short-term, Jason Hinds explains:

“The gravity of this situation depends on the type of cheese,” Jason explains. “Producers who make blue and soft cheeses suffer the most – particularly as those are the most likely to make their way into restaurants.” While the producers of hard, mature cheeses at least have the option of keeping their stock for a few weeks longer, those that make highly perishable cheeses had no choice but to say goodbye to thousands of pounds and gallons of milk. “In a normal week, Joe Bennett who makes Innes Log and Innes Brick at Highfields Farm Dairy could make 1,400 cheeses. Last week he made 22. He’s pouring milk down the drain,” Jason continues. For Joe and other producers like him, the next month will prove “the most pivotal in their histories, as they face the prospect of throwing more cheese and milk away if they can’t quickly find homes.”

You can read the full blog post here

https://www.nealsyarddairy.co.uk/blogs/news/safeguarding-the-future-of-british-farmhouse-cheese

While Neals Yard Dairy, which is where I buy most of my cheese and other dairy goods, are supporting these producers by taking, selling and delivering as many short-life cheeses as they possibly can, I thought a list of cheesemongers and small shops keeping farmhouse cheese around the country might be helpful for now and into the future. A lot of them are open and are delivering during the pandemic. I've put links on each so you can easily check and keep up to date during this ever-changing situation. The list is, of course, not comprehensive but it’s a start and it can be added to.

Where to buy British and Irish Farmhouse Cheeses now:

Some small-scale cheesemakers are now selling direct, including makers of:

Stichelton - Stichelton Dairy, Welbeck Estate, Worksop, Nottingham

Kirkham's Lancashire - Mrs Kirkham’s Lancashire, Goosnargh, Preston, Lancs

Baron Bigod - Fen Farm Dairy, Bungay, Suffolk

Lincolnshire Poacher - Lincolnshire Poacher Cheese, Alford, Lincolnshire

Westcombe Cheddar, Duckett's Caerphilly & Ricotta, - Westcombe Dairy, Evercreech, Somerset

Kappacasein - Kappacasein Dairy, Spa Terminus, Bermondsey, London

LONDON

Neals Yard Dairy
Kappacasein Dairy

London Cheesemonger

Mons Cheesemongers

Paxton & Whitfield

Leila’s Shop

General Store

Jones of Brockley

La Fromagerie

Giddy Grocer

Blackwoods Cheese

Gorwydd Caerphilly stall, Borough Market

Natoora - recently added Neals Yard Dairy cheeses to their deliveries

OUTSIDE LONDON

Welbeck Farm Shop, Welbeck, Worksop, Nottingham

Jericho Cheese Company, Oxford

The Courtyard Dairy, Austwick, Nr Settle, N. Yorks

The Cambridge Cheese Company, Cambridge

The Little Deli, Hitchen, Herts

The Fine Cheese Company, Bath

Landrace Bakery, Bath

The Farm, Stratford-Upon-Avon

Chorlton Cheesemongers, Chorlton, Manchester

Cartmel Cheeses, Cartmel, Cumbria

The Cheese Society, Lincoln

Cheese Please, Lewes, East Sussex
Thecheesegeek.com

And, if you can only go to supermarkets at this time, why not ask 'where's the British Farmhouse Cheese?'. I hope to see more shops join this list.

Five books for food lovers 2019

noreply@blogger.com (Evie) — Sun, 15 Dec 2019 16:46:00 +0000

There are so many ‘best of’ cookbook lists around at this time of year. If you can bring yourself to read another, here’s my top 5 pick for 2019. I’ve read and cooked from them all. Only two are new publications. For me, they really stand out in this year’s barrage of books. The other three books are vintage, much-loved ones that have done more than teach me to cook. They are still continually taken down from my bookshelf and that's why they make this list.

The New:

My top two of the new are simply books that are full of recipes I really do want to cook.

Sardine by Alex Jackson is stuffed with ‘Simple, seasonal, southern French cooking’ recipes. It’s broken down into chapters covering the four seasons with a Grande Bouffe or two per season – a Cous-cous for summer; an autumnal grand alioli feast. There are dishes as quick and simple as Cold almond, melon & pastis soup; Roast hake, samphire & tomato salad; and buttery Fried ceps & persillade. And a more time-consuming rich, saffron-spiked Bourride; Nicoise-style porchetta; and, Beef shin, chestnuts, wet polenta & gruyere. Alex’s recipe for a classic Clafoutis is the best I’ve ever come across and his Apricot & brown butter tart is a dream – I’ve substituted both pears and prunes to successfully extend the season of this one. Check out the book’s end pages for the author’s influences and to see what a good kitchen bookshelf of southern French cooking looks like. There is little in this book that I don’t want to cook.

Sardine - Simple seasonal Provençal cooking

Published by Pavilion

Pasta Grannies by Vicky Bennison is subtitled The secrets of Italy’s best home cooks’. As the author points out, “All Italians know their grandmothers are the best cooks” partly, of course, “ because they are served food with a liberal sprinkle of adoration”. It’s the pasta-making knowledge of these Italian women who learned, in tough times, how to prepare everything from scratch and to make a few good ingredients go further through the vehicle of pasta. This book comes out of the YouTube Channel, Pasta Grannies, which has been a little addiction for many thousands of people, including me, over the past five years. The book, and the Channel, are a celebration of these previously unsung home cooks and a record of traditions in a rapidly changing food culture. There are sound, intensively tried and tested recipes for fresh pastas from the Dolomites in the north to the tip of Sicily in the south. There are portraits of no-nonsense Nonnas like Ida with her Agnolotti del Plin and Rosa with a dish of Maccheroni with salt cod and dried peppers. I can tell you Franca’s Classic lasagne with Bolognese works wonderfully, as does Vanda’s Cappellacci with Pumpkin. I think it will take me some time to get up to the speed of these Grannies but there’s plenty more to want to emulate.

Pasta Grannies by Vicky Bennison

Published by Hardie Grant Books

The Vintage (all still in print):

If you have few food traditions and virtually no learning at mother’s knee to draw on, you need a comprehensive general cookbook and a ‘Guru’ or two.

My first food book covers the general. It was a pre-loved gift, and it keeps on giving to this day. It’s a 1976 edition of The Cookery Year, a Reader’s Digest publication that has been through many editions over the years. My copy includes contributions from great writers like Derek Cooper, Margaret Costa, Jane Grigson and Katie Stewart. With chapters on ‘Buying for Quality’ and ‘Twelve Months of Recipes’, its 500+ recipes are all centred around fresh, seasonal food. The influence of this book, and these writers, on my own thinking about food is clear. I am, and always will be, an advocate for using the best ingredients (which doesn’t mean the most expensive or most travelled), in season and cooked simply. Photography is real – don’t expect 1970s kitsch here – supplemented by some lovely illustrations from artists like Denys Ovenden.

The Cookery Year

Published by Reader’s Digest

Jane Grigson is my first ‘Guru’. I could have highlighted any of her books here but as I love fruit-growing particularly, I’ve chosen her Fruit Book. The depth of Jane Grigson’s food knowledge, the breadth of her interests and the lyricism of her writing combine to make her the most readable of writers. A glance at her Acknowledgements page in this book, first published in 1982, tells you how well she informed herself in preparation for writing. It is an A-Z of fruit and, therefore, ideal for dipping into when you want to know how best to make use of, say, that punnet of sour gooseberries you’ve just acquired or that glut of ripe strawberries. The cracked spine and splattered pages of my own copy testifies to how useful I find this book. But it is more than a source of quick inspiration. Open the page at ‘Fig’ and you will be treated to two fascinating pages covering cultivation, religion, art, folklore, sexuality, poetry, medicine and opinion. Beautifully simple recipes follow, from Duck in Port Wine and Figs to Spanish Fig Ice Cream, and Mme Verdier’s Black Fig Jam.

Jane Grigson’s Fruit Book

Published by Penguin Books

And then there’s Simon Hopkinson, a guiding-light to many. Again, it’s hard to choose which of his books to single out but Roast Chicken and Other Stories, written with the help of food journalist Lindsey Bareham, is so perfectly formed that I have to go for it. Organised in chapters based on Hopkinson's favourite ingredients, the recipes are so good you just long for chapters on ingredients he hasn't covered - then you buy his follow-up book "second helpings of roast chicken". Simon Hopkinson’s food, as he says himself, is designed to please rather than to impress. He is a chef/writer with very strong opinions and there is no-one better to knock any pretentiousness out of your cooking. He will teach you to appreciate a few good ingredients, make you think about what goes with what and how to keep things simple. And his recipes always, always work. You may have to settle for a paperback copy of this one.

Roast Chicken and Other Stories
Published by Ebury Press

Landrace Bakery

noreply@blogger.com (Evie) — Thu, 28 Feb 2019 20:47:00 +0000

White Sourdough
Landrace Bakery, Bath

It's hard to believe that less than 10 years ago it was difficult to buy a good loaf of bread in much of the UK. We all know why. The Chorleywood Process has a lot to answer for. Not just for propagating bad 'bread' but for turning it into such a cheap commodity that small independent bakeries couldn't compete with the fast, mechanised production process it introduced. Bakeries disappeared from the high street. It's been a long haul but now most towns boast a decent baker using traditional leaven methods of baking, though they'll most likely be found well away from the High Street. Many of us even make our own bread from time to time in homes where pots of sourdough starter rise and fall on many a kitchen work surface. But it's a time-consuming activity, and it's the time - the thing those Chorleywood scientists were so focussed on reducing - that really matters. Stripped of the hydrogenated fats, the flour treatment agent, the bleach, the emulsifiers and preservatives we are left with flour, water, salt, which requires an injection of time. With the return to basics, some bakers are now turning their attention to the quality of the ingredients, which means the grains - the growing, the milling and the using. And it's this, along with producing excellent bakes that is the focus of attention at Landrace Bakery which opened last week in Bath.

Producing naturally leavened sourdough from organic British-grown stone-milled flours they are already producing outstanding loaves with a moist crumb and really satisfying depth of flavour. It would be hard to think of a more intimate bakery. The baking is within easy ogling distance of the counter which is stacked with dough and pastry bakes. So if you're looking for lunch and can't choose between pumpkin and ricotta pastries or a Westcombe cheese toastie, you can keep an eye on the progress of the sausage rolls puffing up beautifully in the oven. There's a light-filled cafe area with a window which opens onto the street in summer.

Pastry
at Landrace Bakery, Bath

Sourcing is clearly very important to Landrace Bakery. Ricotta and cheddar from Somerset's Westcombe Dairy, eggs from Cacklebean Farm in Gloucestershire, butter from Fen Farm Dairy, flours from Gilchesters Organics, chocolate from Pump Street, coffee from Workshop Coffee and fabulously fresh salad leaves from Bath grower Undercliff Urban Farm. It's an impressive ingredients list which Landrace Bakery are certainly doing justice to. For the moment they have a small milling machine to experiment with whole grains, and interesting plans for a "flour club" for customers.

You'll find Landrace Bakery close enough to the city centre but off the tourist drag, on Walcott Street. A few doors down from the Fine Cheese Company, Landrace fits perfectly into what's known as the 'Artisan Quarter' of Bath. On my visit locals were pitching up to try out the newcomer to the neighbourhood, and they seemed as taken with their new bakery as I was.

So why the name Landrace Bakery? Broadly speaking, 'Landrace' translates as a 'domesticated animal or cultivated plant which has, over a long period of time, adapted to the local natural environment in which it lives'. The name, I believe, tells you a lot about the intentions of Landrace Bakery. This place is only going to get better with time.

Landrace Bakery
61 Walcot Street
Bath BA1 5BN

Five books for food lovers 2018

noreply@blogger.com (Evie) — Fri, 14 Dec 2018 20:37:00 +0000

Five books for food lovers 2018

Halfway through December, it's time to remember the food books that have proved deserving of their shelf space in 2018. From this year's publications, there's a book of no-nonsense do-able food that banished my preconceptions of German cuisine. Summing-up traditional home-cooked German food as “gently spiced, smoky, buttery, yet sweet and sour”, and as “warm and hearty and vinegar-laced”, the author celebrates the positive influences migration and trade has had on German food over the past seven decades. For dessert, there's a highly seasonal book on ice cream that will have you measuring your year in ice cream scoops, longing to pick your own blood oranges in Sicily and closely guarding your source of Loganberries. There's a 2017 publication that slipped my net last year and I'm so glad I finally scooped it up for its attention to seasonality and ingredients, and, not least, for its chapter on pasta. I've included a re-print of a book which was out of print for some 70 years. And there's a memoir of a true food hero to round things off.

Caraway Dumplings with spiced carrot
from Strudel, Noodles & Dumplings

Strudel, Noodles & Dumplings: The new taste of German cooking

By Anja Dunk

Damson and Grappa ice cream
from La Grotta Ices

La Grotta Ices

By Kitty Travers

Braised fennel and purple olive dressing
from Trullo: The Cookbook

Trullo: The Cookbook

By Tim Siadatan

I'm late to Tim Siadatan's book and there are so many recipes I still want to try that I feel I've barely mopped a plate, yet here I am recommending it. Normally I like to really get to know a recipe book before I list it but I have been several times to the Highbury Corner neighbourhood restaurant - Trullo - where most of the recipes were created - so I know what we have here is straightforward "serious cooking" ... "without the seriousness", as the author puts it. The book is based on the author's initial focus on classic regional Italian food married with the creative freedom which comes from having his own restaurant. Previously he worked at restaurants like Fifteen, St John and Moro. There's good practical advice on equipping your kitchen: buy quality pans and learn to keep a knife sharp rather than spend money on an expensive one; what to stock in your fridge and dry store; and how to be thoughtful about your ingredient choices. I've cooked the last of my allotment-grown pumpkins in a dish of Gnudi and pumpkin ricotta that were as fluffy and light as promised. I've served-up Braised fennel and purple olive dressing which was as fresh and zingy as I was led to believe it would be. I want very much to eat a bowl of Cannellini beans, King cabbage and pancetta. A Whole baked turbot with poached leeks and aioli is also on my mind along with a Chocolate tart which the author learned to make during his time in the kitchen at Moro (enough said). And then there's the pasta which is treated with immense respect both in the restaurant and in this book.

Coming to my Senses: The making of a counterculture cook

By Alice Waters

More than 40 years after opening her seminal restaurant and cafe, Chez Panisse, Alice Waters finally tells the inspiring story of what motivated her to create what was to become the most influential food movement in America. Living through highly-charged political times, searching for something to believe in, she transformed her nation's relationship with food. I've been lucky enough to eat there several times over the years - though this is a reminder that it's been a while now - and there are few places in the world where I've felt so completely happy. It's the first place I can remember where the growers and producers of the ingredients on your plate were celebrated and their work treated with utmost respect. And it was the first place where I was presented with a bowl of salad leaves that almost jumped off the plate with freshness, dressed and presented with due reverence. It's at Chez Panisse that I've eaten some of my most memorable meals and the experiences have influenced my own growing, cooking and writing.

In this book, Alice Waters's takes you, in a very personal way, from her 1950s "Betty Crocker cake-mix childhood", her formative travels through Europe, political engagement and disenchantment, learning the importance of terroir and ending with a chapter on 'Opening Night'. The author's gradual realisation that "food is political" and that the success of Chez Panisse opened doors to projects she had only dreamed of spurred her on to be bold. Everything she has achieved is without actually cooking at Chez Panisse herself. But then, if she had, would she have had the time to put all the pieces in place that make Chez Panisse (and all it stands for) what it is? Her projects, such as 'Edible Schoolyard' are only touched on in this book. Clearly, there has to be a second book picking up where this one leaves off.

The Anatomy of Dessert With a Few Notes on Wine

By Edward A. Bunyard

My copy of The Anatomy of Dessert, out of print for some 70 years, is a Modern Library Food re-print, edited by Ruth Reichl. Edward Ashdown Bunyard was a Kent-born nurseryman who was devoted to pomology (the study and cultivation of fruit) and shared his knowledge in books such as The Anatomy of Dessert. First published in 1929, Bunyard's reference to 'Dessert' in the title refers to the meaning of the word in England at the time, namely the fruit course. Pudding came after, so, don't expect this book to be filled with any sugars except those of the natural fruit kind. And what of the few notes on wine? Well, his love included grapes, of course. Such was Bunyard's love of his subject that his sensuous writing is full of, as Michael Pollen's introduction to this re-print puts it, ".... barely sublimated fruit lust ...". His epicurean passions found release in his book The Epicure's Companion as well as writing hundreds of articles.

From Apples through to Strawberries, each chapter lyrically describes the merits of each fruit, its varieties, and when each are at their best. Many of these varieties are, sadly, no longer grown except, hopefully, in some domestic gardens. Reading Bunyard makes you long to taste an Old Transparent Gage plum and realise how impoverished our fruit year is today.

I love Ruth Reichl's analysis of why she loves food writing, which she mentions in her Introduction to The Modern Library Food Series- " .... food is a lens through which to view the world." ".... If you choose to pay attention, cooking is an important cultural artefact, an expression of time, place and personality."

As every year, there could have been more than 5 books in my selection, but it's a good discipline to stick to, I think. I rarely accept a book for free, so, the books I choose are not based on any feeling of obligation. I hope you enjoy reading about my 2018 personal choices.

Strudel, Noodles & Dumplings

noreply@blogger.com (Evie) — Sat, 10 Nov 2018 15:41:00 +0000

Caraway Dumplings with spiced carrot
from Strudel, Noodles & Dumplings

I’ve followed Anja Dunk’s Instagram site for quite a while and, like many others, have been charmed by the posts of her cosy, sometimes chaotic kitchen and dining table. This is no temple to marble and stainless steel, but a true home kitchen. Jam pans bubble on the stove; sturdy shelves are a backdrop, packed to capacity with hand-made bowls and jars of essential nuts, dried fruits, pulses and grains; tiny hands reach across the table for another helping of Schmarren (baked pancake). Anja is warm and engaging on social media and this comes across in this, her book, Strudel, Noodles & Dumplings and it’s good to see that her own photographs illustrate the book.

She tells of a nomadic childhood, where the food that came out of family kitchens was the constant in daily life, in particular the “pared-back” and “do-able food” of her German Mother. And now, with her own children to care for, it’s this food with a warm sense of family that she brings to her kitchen to instil the association between food and home in them too. But don’t think this is a book about ‘food for children’ - whatever that means. The recipes are laced with flavours of caraway and cumin, tarragon and dill, peppercorns and juniper, allspice and anise. Ferments and pickles have their place too. This is food served up to an appreciative audience of children, family and friends. Each section comes with a short story or anecdote to set the scene to chapters including Simple Comforts, Food for the Soul, Anything Goes, and Something for the Weekend.

Merguez sausage with butter beans & roasted red peppers
from Strudel, Noodles & Dumplings

The book is subtitled The new taste of German cooking, making the point that, as with many other European cuisines, German food has been influenced over time by migration and trade. In parallel with Britain, German food has also had to shake off an unfair 20^th century reputation for poor food caused by wartime food rationing and the introduction of new, usually American, processed foods that followed. Both countries have, thankfully, regained their culinary equilibrium. Germany has also remained true to its strong sense of food seasonality, its love of baking and myriad ways of preserving from smoking to bottling. Anja sums up home-cooked German food as “gently spiced, smoky, buttery, yet sweet and sour”, as “warm and hearty and vinegar-laced”. All of this is in the book, along with a sprinkling of inspiration from three enthusiastic little eaters.

Reibele in a herby pea broth
from Strudel, Noodles & Dumplings

So what have I cooked? An unusually good (for me) carrot harvest led me to Caraway Dumplings with spiced carrot. With such a basic main ingredient I made sure I used a good passata that became lusciously thickened by the topping of floury dumplings. A small amount of Speck, or smoked bacon in my case, and a good dose of sweet paprika added deep savour. As I’m a sucker for broths, Reibele in a herby pea broth was an obvious choice. Any recipe that calls for frozen peas and lots of herbs is going to get my attention too. But what is Reibele, you may ask? A tiny grated noodle that cooks in a minute. I made the egg-less version and can’t say I found grating the noodles easy (I suspect I didn’t knead the dough enough) but they cooked up just as the writer said they would. Such a simple recipe does rely on a good vegetable stock and not stinting on the herbs. Merguez sausage with butter beans and roasted red peppers has been on the menu several times already, which says it all. The main ingredients are further spiced up with cumin (optional but not in my case), black pepper and sweet paprika and piled on toasted bread then tempered with a herb yogurt. Only one sweet dish so far, though a couple of jars of rum-laced Not Just a Strudel Filling has saved the day several times. Used as a filling for buckwheat pancakes, a topping for Pain Perdu and simply topped with vanilla ice cream. And I still haven’t made Apple Strudel with it. But then there are four other Strudel recipes to consider, including a Spiced Plum and Walnut at some point.

My Pain Perdu with 'Not just a Strudel filling'
from Strudel, Noodles & Dumplings

It’s so obvious that the dishes in this book have been made over and over again. This is no-nonsense home cooking by someone with a great understanding of flavours and how spices work together. Every recipe I’ve tried so far has worked perfectly. Other recipes I have bookmarked include Beer Dumplings with creamy juniper mushrooms, Chestnuts with mushrooms and marjoram, Baked Buckwheat with cinnamon sugar and cream, Steamed Dumplings with plum jam and poppy seeds, Strawberry and cinnamon soup, Blueberry Buttermilk and that Schmarren, of course. And I look forward to a Four O’Clock Cocktail of Black Tea with Rum after a long walk “in the depths of winter when the air is crisp and bodies are drawn to each other in a huddle”.

Strudel, Noodles & Dumplings
by Anja Dunk

Strudel, Noodles & Dumplings: The new taste of German cooking

By AnjaDunk

Published by 4^th Estate

Anja very kindly sent me a copy of this book.

Buckwheat pancakes filled with autumn

noreply@blogger.com (Evie) — Sun, 30 Sep 2018 19:41:00 +0000

Buckwheat pancakes with apple and raisin compote - add walnuts if you like

One of the joys of taking on an allotment plot is the things you find not only on other plots but in the unworked spaces around them. I’ve written before about the walnut tree, discovered thanks to the unearthing of a squirrel's larder, but it remains one of my favourite finds. Clearly a young tree, untamed by any human hand, once again this spring I watched soft buds emerge from grey branches that, through winter, looked and felt iron-hard and unyielding. Within a few weeks the lower branches began to drape into the surrounding long grass like the elegant arms of a dancer reaching for the ground. The beauty of the tree is not only in its looks. Those low-hanging branches make for easy harvest of its fruits. Around the end of June, when the outer casings were a smooth, bright green and still releasing a resinous aroma. I harvested just enough young walnuts to fill a large Kilner jar. *Quartered, they showed themselves to be at the perfect stage - the inner sweet nut soft and not quite formed. They relaxed in a bath of cheap vodka, some sugar, lemon peel and a few spices for six weeks on my balcony. Passed through muslin, the deep brown liquor now sits in the deepest recess of my larder, not to be touched before Christmas arrives. Then a rich vanilla ice cream will be calling for an anointment of luscious, sticky, bitter **Walnut Liqueur.

Green (unripe) Walnuts

The walnut tree seems so quintessentially English, yet it’s a non-native tree. Brought by the Romans, the tree Juglans regia is here at its most northerly reach. The common name of 'English Walnut' for the tree is used here to distinguish it from the American 'Black Walnut' but it originated in China and south-east Europe. Our recent warmer summers have seen the trees fruiting better than ever. This week I took another bagful of walnuts from the tree. Their casing now a softer, rougher green but not yet peeled back exposing the hard, brown under-layer we are more familiar with. These are at the 'wet' stage. Peeling back their green jackets and cracking them open now reveals a fully formed, slightly tacky nut. We will eat some over the next couple of weeks, enjoying their sweet, almost milky taste which pairs so well with salty sheep's milk cheeses. If there are any left I will dry them for storing by leaving the husk-less nuts spread in a single layer in a warm, dry place for two weeks.

Wet Walnuts

I promise, while I've been doing this squirrelling-away, I've made sure to leave plenty of walnuts for the birds, and the squirrels.

Here's one of the dishes I'll be using the dried nuts in:

Buckwheat pancakes with apples, raisins & walnuts

(pancake mixture makes around 12 x 20cm thin pancakes)

For the pancakes:

120g buckwheat flour
50g plain flour
pinch of salt
1 medium egg
175ml full cream milk + 175ml water
30g melted butter

For the filling:
About 500g of warm apple compote and a handful of raisins
(peeled and chopped apples cooked down with a knob of butter and sugar to taste depending on the type of apples, then add the raisins while the apple is still hot)
a handful of shelled walnuts, roughly chopped

Combine the flours and salt. Make a well in the centre and add the egg and a little milk then start to draw in the dry ingredients to the wet, adding more of the milk and water gradually until you have a smooth batter. Add the melted butter and mix in.

Lightly butter a 20cm heavy-based frying pan and heat to medium-hot. Keep the heat at this level throughout. Pour in enough pancake mixture to quickly swirl it around the pan and lightly coat it and cook until the underside is lightly browned. This is a sacrificial one as the first pancake is always poor so discard it. Add just a little butter before cooking each pancake. Pour about 2-3 tablespoons of batter into the pan and quickly swirl it around the pan to coat it thinly. Brown lightly and turn the pancake to lightly brown the other side. Repeat the process and when each pancake is light browned on both sides add it to a plate and keep warm in a low oven until you have used up all the mixture.

Spoon some of the warm apple and raisin compote onto each pancake and add some of the chopped walnuts folding the pancakes over. Serve with cream.

Note:
*Always wear gloves when handling walnuts that have their green outer casings intact as the tannins are highly staining.

**David Lebovitz has a recipe on his website for Liqueur de Noix. In Italy it is known as Nocino and my go-to recipe can be found in Kitty Travers's brilliant book on the subject of ice cream, La Grotta Ices.

La Grotta Ices by Kitty Travers

noreply@blogger.com (Evie) — Mon, 13 Aug 2018 11:02:00 +0000

La Grotta Ices book

Before I say a word about this book - La Grotta Ices which was published in June - I have to declare I know the author. Given the trajectory of her career, I'm sure I ate Kitty Travers's food at a couple of favourite London restaurants before we met. I love a good pudding, and ice creams in particular, so a good pastry chef is to be treasured. Then I spotted a little Piaggio Ape van whizzing across south east London. It was driven by a willowy tall, rosy-cheeked woman who seemed to have found the secret to happiness. And she had. She had followed her dream.

I'm not sure of many things but I firmly believe we all have ice cream memories. Often it's that first lick of Mr Whippy soft-scoop vanilla (with a chocolate flake if you were flush) in a dry, brittle, tasteless cone. It's a memory of taste, time and place that stays with us. For me it's the jingling sound of Greensleeves announcing the arrival of the ice cream van. A strawberry Mivvi, please. For Kitty Travers, her memory is a slice of supermarket economy vanilla brick that, after suffering several re-freezes emerged from its damp cardboard box as a "curious foamy gum". I remember it well. I suspect few of our first ice cream memories would stand up to much scrutiny on taste, but they are no less fondly held.

La Grotta Ices - Scooping

As with most things, once you've tasted the good stuff, you want more. In Kitty's case it was the flavours of abricot, cassis, groseille, and callison in a little glaciere off the Croissette in Cannes that began the seduction. A scoop of ice cream became part of her morning ritual before a 16-hour waitressing shift. A dip into Jeffrey Steingarten's book The Man Who Ate Everything, specifically the chapter "The Mother of All Ice Cream", fed a passion to discover how such flavours could be delivered in the form of ice cream. An inheritance allowed her to fly to New York to study and to 'stage' for Mario Batali and Meredith Kurtzman at Otto Enoteca and for Gabrielle Hamilton at Prune. She thrived and then the visa ran out. The boost to her confidence returned her to London where Fergus Henderson was only too pleased to employ her at St John Bread & Wine where she scooped up her first ice cream - Fresh Mint - as pastry chef. Holidays in Italy were spent working, sampling and learning about gelato in the best places for it - Rome, Naples and Sicily. Not all was 'la dolce vita' and decision time came when she was assured by a gelato maker that she could never learn to make ice cream like an Italian (being in her twenties, she was far too old!). She decided there and then that she would try to do something "relevant to the place" she came from and "make it perfect". She would make ice cream. La Grotta Ices was established in London in 2008, named in recognition of that little glaciere in Cannes which fed her early ice cream dreams.

If the La Grotta Ices book doesn't make you value the importance of seasonality, nothing will. The order reflects the author's ice cream making year which changes constantly as ingredients come into their, often short, season and then bow out. She reminds that if you buy with seasonality in mind you will find fruits that are not only ripe and tasting at their best but good value too.

Strawberry Salad Ice Cream
Recipe from La Grotta Ices

Achieving the perfect balance of water, sugar, fat, solids (proteins) and emulsifier is key. The ethos is fresh, seasonal and minimally processed. Expect recipes to include milk, cream, eggs, sugar, fruits and natural flavourings. You'll find no 'fat-free' here, unless it's a sorbet - thank goodness. There's imaginativeness in flavours and textures in these 75 recipes but no 'let's see how off-the-wall we can get'. Some combinations are creative and surprising but always thoughtful. The recipes start logically in January with the arrival of sharp citrus fruits from Italy, their peels rich with oils, put to use in Kumquat Custard; Blood orange & Bergamot Sherbert; and Mimosa (blossom), Seville & Orange Rice. We move through spring and summer's rhubarb, strawberries, cherries, peaches, apricots, blackcurrants and resiny early Pigeon Figs with ice creams like Leafy Blackcurrant Custard; Apricot Noyau; a sorbet of Tomato & White Peach; and Pigeon Figs & Pineau de Charentes. Early autumn brings sticky figs, grapes, melons, plums, pear and quince, so we have Damson Grappa; Melon & Jasmine Sorbet; Pear, Myrtle & Ginger. Late in the year there's a turn to richer flavours in the form of nuts, dried fruits, candied peels, butterscotch and malt so you'll find Pistachio; Medici Almond; and Butterscotch & Agen Prune. Herbs, geranium leaves and fruit leaves are valued too, particularly useful if you are waiting impatiently for your fruits to ripen as the leaves (some are poisonous, so check) deliver interesting flavours on their own as well as adding another dimension to fruit ice creams. There are recipes for Mint Chip; Blackberry and Rose Geranium; Blackcurrant Leaf Water; Peach Leaf Milk Ice; and several uses for the sublime fig leaf.

The writing around the recipes is pitch-perfect. Little vignettes of the author's adventures in pursuit of a true passion: Memories of breakfasting on poached quince after feeding the livestock on an Urbino pig farm. How to avoid, or enjoy, a Prickly Pear. How eating too many Kiwis in the name of love led to a visit to a cowboy-hatted doctor, the part played by Mussolini in the drama, and how Italy can be too much if you're not careful.

Leafy Blackcurrant Custard
Recipe from La Grotta Ices

There's good advice too, like: Keep your Loganberry source to yourself - they are as rare as hen's teeth and short in season; why good quality cocoa powder works better than chocolate in ice cream; keep your eyes open and nose alert to walnut trees and lemon verbena bushes on common land; after sieving berries, use the pips for making a pip juice; and eat chocolate pudding flavoured ice cream with a good friend so they can wrestle it from you before you polish it off in one go!

I am certain I will make every recipe in this book because I have the advantage of knowing just how good La Grotta Ices is. I already have summer favourites like Strawberry Salad, Tomato and Peach Sorbet and Leafy Blackcurrant Custard. I badly want to make Tamarillo ice cream because of its thrillingly tropical flavour and the sumptuous colour it takes on; Carrot Seed because I'm a grower and I'm intrigued; Lime and Botanicals because I like a nice G&T; and Pistachio because it's pistachio.

The artwork in the book is eye-catching and fun and photographs, by Grant Cornett, capture perfectly the nostalgia around our ice cream memories. I should tell you too that I attended one of Kitty Travers's early teaching classes at The School of Artisan Food. She still runs regular Introduction courses there so I have included a link just in case you want to catch, as I did, some of her infectious enthusiasm for her passion. And here's a link to the La Grotta Ices site for up-to-date info on where you can buy the ice creams in London.

I don't know about you, but I still wouldn't turn my nose up at my ice cream memory - though I'm told my Strawberry Mivvi has slipped from its stick for the last time. Probably for the best.

Published by: Square Peg/Penguin Random House

I bought this book

Vienna Summer 2018

noreply@blogger.com (Evie) — Mon, 30 Jul 2018 15:51:00 +0000

Otto Wagner's
Die Zeit Telegraph Office facade (1985 reconstruction)

It was more than 30 years since I'd walked the streets of Vienna. Back then, in the space of a couple of hours we went from a balmy autumn London in October to grau winter in the Viennese capital.
Over three freezing days we layered-up in every stitch of clothing we had. The streets were eerily quiet, making it very easy to conjure up the feeling that Harry Lime was watching from that shadowy baroque doorway (you must have read, or seen, The Third Man). Vienna was a city at the intersection of East and West Europe - the Berlin wall had not yet fallen.

Vienna

We walked the, what seemed to us, melancholy streets, ducking into churches, admiring the Baroque beauty along with the Juendstil (Art Nouveau) Modernism. We took brisk walks in the freezing landscapes of the central Stadtpark and crossed town to Vienna's south eastern reaches to find the Schönbrunn, which was closed! The roasted chestnut sellers were a godsend. The hot, blistered nuts bought to bury deep into our coat pockets to warm frost-nipped fingers until we could dive into a coffee house for Kaffe und Kuchen (Demel was our favourite). The atmosphere may have exuded an air of mournfulness but the art on the walls of Vienna’s galleries dazzled. Cash was tight. Anything that was free-to-see was seized upon. The vibrant eroticism of Gustav Klimt’s portraits and friezes and Egon Schiele’s challenging and, sometimes, disturbing, body of work made a big impression. Now we were back, this time in high summer, wondering whether that air of Traurigkeit (mournfulness) was real or all down to the weather.

Vienna Secession

The draw this summer was the art as 2018 is an important anniversary year in the artistic history of Vienna. It's 100 years since Klimt died of Pneumonia, to be followed 8 months later by Schiele who succumbed to Spanish Flu at the age of 28. Between those losses, Otto Wagner - architect, urban planner, teacher - who took Vienna's architecture into the Modernist era, died. All three were members of the revolutionary artist's association, Vienna Secession. Like other European secessionist group, members sought to separate themselves from the art of the past and it was closely linked with art nouveau or jugendstil. So, what better place to start than to create their own exhibition space - the Vienna Secession, Association of Visual Arts. Though, on this visit, the outside was the nearest I was able to get to this decorative beauty close to Karlsplatz. It was designed by one of the co-founders of Vienna Secession, Josef Olbrich. Inside, Gustav Klimt's Beethoven Frieze is the big draw but there is a constantly changing programme of modern-day artists' exhibitions.

Osterreichische Postparkasse (Austrian Savings Bank)
Vienna

Next the Wien Museum, the venue for the Otto Wagner jubilee exhibition (until 7 October 2018). Spanning the 19th and 20th centuries, Wagner's visionary designs offered a clear break from the past. For many defenders of the past, his modernist ideas which incorporated new building materials were too radical and many of his projects remained unrealised.

Osterreichische Postparkasse (Austrian Savings Bank)
Vienna

Even if you don't make it to the Wien Museum exhibition, don't skip wandering into the Austrian Postal Savings Bank - Osterreichische Postparkasse - Wagner's most modern and important work. Every detail bears Otto Wagner's hand, from door handles to counters to stools, lighting and clocks and were designed around his principle "What is impractical can never be beautiful". Simply stunning.

Kneeling female in orange dress
1010, Egon Schiele

The Leopold Museum was hosting the Egon Schiele: The Jubilee Show (until 4 November 2018). Schiele is the central artist of the Leopold's collection so, as I had hoped, this exhibition was the most comprehensive collection of the artist's work I've ever seen. So hard to choose just one photo to illustrate this visit.

Portrait of an old man
c1896, Gustav Klimt

The Leopold Museum was also the venue for Gustav Klimt: Artist of the Century (until 4 November 2018). The chance to see a Gustav Klimt exhibition is never something I would pass up, but I think my appreciation of this one suffered from having seen the fantastic Schiele exhibition first. Damn it, we didn't make it to the Belvedere on this trip, nor the Albertina. You really should!

Florentina Pakosta
at The Albertina, Vienna

Time for a drink and something to eat. A cocktail at Loos American Bar, of course. But before the drink, there's the architect. Adolf Loos, designed this small, stylish, fin de siècle bar with his uncompromising commitment to lack of ornamentation. Everything had to be economic, practical and functional in his work - views that were at odds with the Secessionists. Mahogany, marble and onyx were used to great effect. Loos's modernist works would influence Le Corbusier and Mies van de Rohe. And the cocktails? A Corpse Reviver No.2 and a Blackthorn English were fine. As you can imagine, absolutely everyone from Sigmund Freud to Egon Schiele have crossed the threshold of Loosbar. I wonder what they'd make of it now? Got to say I was not taken with the invitation to "Lady Drinks" on Sundays!

Apple Strudel
at Meieiri, Vienna

Our food memories of Vienna were of the traditional rib-sticking Austro-Hungarian variety - nothing wrong with that, especially in winter. There was Wiener Schnitzel, Tafelspitz, and a glorious Goulash. Had much changed on the food front? We arrived just in time for a late lunch at Meierei in the centre of Stadtpark and ate Goulash followed by Apfelstrudel for old time's sake. Meltingly tender beef in a sticky, lip-smacking sauce cut by sweet-sour pickled vegetables. A fresh from the oven slice of Apple Strudel with the lightest vanilla sauce. Huge windows open out onto the terrace where tables are set in fine weather. With only the footpath above the Wienfluss between you and views over the park, it's a lovely oasis of calm in the city. We didn't eat at its ** Michelin sister restaurant Steirereck alongside but I'm assured it's well worth the price. The restaurants share an impressive cheese cave where 140 varieties of cheese - though mysteriously only one British example - await the dedicated europhile.

Confit fillet of Arctic Char
at MAST, Vienna

For dinner we took the Metro north to Friendensbrucke station to eat at Mast Weinbistro - so good we ate there twice. This natural wine bar and bistro was perfect when you tire of the hearty traditional. Though a dish of Smoked Pork and sauerkraut was on offer and happily eaten, as was the Stewed pork belly, chanterelles and green beans - the lightness of touch to both was much appreciated. A Confit fillet of Arctic Char, bell pepper and zucchini was given zest by a little preserved lemon and a light cream basil emulsion. The spicy notes of the basil and salt/sour of the lemon bringing just enough flavour and interest to not overpower the delicate fish. Small plates of Mushrooms, peas, chicken skin and basil and Turnip, lentil humus and sesame were ideal with the excellent bread and raw milk butter to start. The bread is bought in from Offerl a backerei an hour north of Vienna where the baker George Offerl made the excellent decision to take the family bakery back in time. It ticks all the right boxes: organic ingredients, rare grains, handmade and most of all the breads taste fantastic. You won't find this bread in many places in Vienna. There was a particularly notable bottle of Weingutwerlitsch Ex Vero I but all the natural wines were good. Here you can also taste roasts from Jonas Reindl's coffee - not supplied to just anyone in Vienna. We didn't get to Jonas Rendl's own coffee bar but it would be a must for any future visit.

Elsewhere we were reminded of the joys of a simple bowl of beef consommé with shredded pancake and a plate of white asparagus with boiled potatoes and hollandaise but we searched in vain for a slice of Dobos Torte (cake) even in Cafe Central. And, yes, we did return to Demel for kaffe und kuchen and, inevitably, found it not to be the haven we remembered but don't let that stop you.

Croissants and hot chocolate
at Paremi, Vienna

Parémi on Backerstrasse is a French style Boulangerie, Patisserie which became our favourite breakfast spot on this visit. The young owners, Patricia and Remi have the baking and the service completely spot-on and it's a lovely, friendly place. The pastries are outstanding and I can recommend the croissants with hot chocolate. The patisserie tastes every bit as good as it looks and it was no surprise to learn that Pierre Hermé is a hero. If you want more ceremony over breakfast, Meierei can provide it.

The Jesuit Church
Vienna

There's St Stephens Cathedral to see, of course, with its fantastically tiled roof but

Vienna has a copious number of churches, many decorated in elaborate baroque style. The Jesuit Church at Dr Ignaz Seipel Platz may look plain from the outside but the interior is anything but. Extravagantly ornate decoration in jade green, pearly pink, blood red and gold awaits. And church music is still something easily found in Vienna.

Liechtensteinstrasse
Vienna

Green spaces are always a necessity, for me, in cities. In Vienna, apart from Stadtpark, which we found ourselves cutting through often, there is Schönbrunn Palace - the Palmenhaus in the park in particular. And the Gartenpalais Liechtenstein - if you remember to book ahead for a guided tour, there is the Palais Liechtenstein there too - the walking route to which was where I found the deliciously decaying stretch of street (on Liechtensteinstrasse) in the photo above.

Vienna

So, was there still a cloak of Traurigkeit hanging over Vienna? Maybe, after all, long summer days was all it took to lift the mantle. The atmosphere was positively heiter.

The book to take: Vienna, A Traveller's Literary Companion edited by Donald G. Daviau
A book that encourages a slow stroll.

Bright Restaurant

noreply@blogger.com (Evie) — Thu, 31 May 2018 22:42:00 +0000

Fried mozzarella pastry & anchovy
at Bright Restaurant

Would Bright shine as strongly as I hoped?

What they say:
"While the full menu will be served throughout, we want people to feel as comfortable dropping in for a quick glass of wine or a bowl of pasta at the bar as they would booking a table for a special occasion and really getting stuck into the menu and the cellar."

It's impossible to write about Bright Restaurant without mentioning P. Franco, the wine shop and bar on Lower Clapton Road E5 set up by Noble Fine Liquor that has been a mecca for good natural wines and food since spring 2014. 2017 saw it named by Eater London as its Restaurant of the Year, despite the bar's two-plate induction hob, miniscule kitchen set-up. Said kitchen operates from Thursday to Sunday with a rolling roster of some of the best chefs in London. William Gleave, Tim Spedding, Anna Tobias, Giuseppe Lacorazza and Peppe Belvedere have all cooked there. Out of this much-loved Hackney bar has emerged Bright Restaurant and wine bar. The promise of great wines, a proper kitchen, a strong kitchen brigade and front-of-house made for my most anticipated opening of the year.

Katsu sando
at Bright Restaurant

Located in the former home of the much admired Ellory Restaurant (now re-opened under the name Leroy in Shoreditch) Bright occupies the ground floor of Netil House, close to London Fields. So far, so involved, but the set-up at Bright couldn't be clearer. The kitchen brigade is strong and changes only in that there are two co-chefs: William Gleave, a Tasmanian with a clear love of Japanese food who earned his London reputation cooking at some of my favourite places like Brawn and 40 Maltby Street; and Giuseppe Belvedere, ex head-chef at Brawn who brings his Sardinian and Italian heritage to the kitchen. As mentioned, both having served their time at P.Franco, of course. Phil Bracey, half of Noble Fine Liquor is in charge of the drink and Lulu Tindal, formerly of Lyle's, Manages front-of-house.

Capicola calabrese
at Bright Restaurant

On the first visit, we dived right in. It was the generous helping of Fried mozarella pastries with a slick of anchovy sauce and slice of preserved lemon that sparked our appetite. Helped along by the glass of sparkling pink bulles, it set the tone for what was to follow. And what followed was a plate of finely sliced, well-marbled Capicola Calabrese, with a richness of flavour that comes with the best quality salume; a punchy dish of Mezzo maniche (short-sleeved) pasta tossed in pesto cetarese and a southern Italian touch of fried breakcrumbs; delicacy followed in the form of a juicy steamed fillet of Silver Mullet with sea herbs; there was asparagus, baked, of course; sweetness arrived, before pudding, in the form of a pork chop. Cooked on the bone before being served de-boned and sliced, it was the fattiest piece of pork I've ever seen and the most delicious. The slices of caper berries and sautéed radishes brought the right amount of heat and piquancy to cut the fat of this Swaledale beauty.

Mezze maniche, pesto cetarese
at Bright Restaurant

There was Iced milk & caramel, and Strawberries & cream, the epitome of lightness and with just enough of an element of surprise to make you glad you'd ordered them even if you were full. Portions throughout are generous. Snacks and small plates range from £6-£13, pasta and mains £11.50-18. Wines by the glass are reasonably priced - starting around £6 up to £11. They're coming from a welk-stocked cellar so expect to find plenty of good bottles.

Steamed silver mullet & herbs
at Bright Restaurant

The second time a 'quick glass of wine' at the bar was the aim. From the 'Snacks' menu came a Katsu sando - thick slice of pork dipped in batter, fried, topped with shredded raw cabbage, an aromatic sauce and sandwiched between white pappy bread - hot, hot English mustard on the side. So right. A Pizza fritta arrived, puffed up and pillow-soft, topped with goat's curd and tomato, good olive oil and oregano.

Iced milk & caramel + Strawberries & cream
at Bright Restaurant

What at first seems an odd name for a restaurant makes sense once you've experienced this new opening in Hackney. If the team are aiming for creativity of menu, vivid combinations, intensity of flavours and blazing delivery. It's all there at Bright. The sourcing is careful. The menu changes to suit the best ingredients they can get their hands on. The kitchen team is a dream, working with real flair backed up by sound techniques. They can do gutsy or delicate with equal confidence. Everything I've eaten here has been deliciously seasonal and full of flavour. The front-of-house team is friendly and know what they are about. Whether I go for that quick glass, the bowl of pasta or to get stuck in, I think I'll be leaving happy.

Pizza fritta
at Bright Restaurant

Bright
1 Westgate Street
London E8 3RL
Tel: +44 (0) 2030 959407

Seating: 30 bookable + 20 walk-ins at the bar and a high table
Currently open: Wed-Sunday Dinner & Sat-Sun Lunch

Lisbon Spring 2018

noreply@blogger.com (Evie) — Sat, 28 Apr 2018 18:01:00 +0000

Lisbon street

This is less of a post than a quick 'give this a go' list. Just back from Lisbon and with so many people telling me they are about to visit, and asking where to go, this up to date list might be useful - and I don't have to keep repeating myself. I've also included some websites containing other people's recommendations on the Portuguese capital in case my Lisbon isn't quite your Lisbon. First, here are my tips.

Cockle, spinach, coriander and fried bread
at Restaurante Prado, Lisbon

FOOD and DRINK

Prado Restaurante, Travessa das Pedras Negras 2 (just off Rua da Madalena)
I'm starting with the best. After 11 years working with Nuno Mendes, including as head chef at Taberna do Mercado in London, chef Antonio Galapito, and his fantastic staff are showing just how good modern Portuguese cooking can be. A commitment to using the best Portuguese ingredients, and a "if it's not in season, it's not on the table" mind-set, is a great start. Expect sound skills and flair from the kitchen and flavour, texture and thoughtfulness on the plate. Definitely order the bread. Don't order everything you want to eat at once. Wines are all organic, biodynamic and natural. Lighting is terrible (a table next to us resorted to phone torches to read the menu).

Cervejaria Ramiro, Avenida Almirante Reis 1. Still the place to eat seafood in Lisbon. Everyone will tell you to go here, and you should. Beautifully fresh and reasonably priced. Favourite things: a copper pot of clams or razor clams in a broth with lots of garlic and coriander. Mid-afternoon proved a good time to avoid the queues on this visit.

Restaurante Grelha Dom Feijão, Largo Machado de Assis 7D (Metro: Roma)
Neighbourhood restaurant serving really good grilled fish with boiled potatoes (a Portuguese staple). The owner buys his fish from the best stall (Horacio e Terese's) at nearby Mercado de Alvalade Norte. There is an outside terrace but get there for 12.00 to get a table outside.

Sol e Pesca, rue Nova do Carvalho 44 (Cais do Sodre area)
Very, very simple. Tinned fish, basket of bread, glass of beer or Vinho Verde and you are done. Has charm (have the Pinhais Petingas Picantes sardines or tuna from Acores).

Razor clams
at Cervejaria Ramiro, Lisbon

Manteigaria Fabrica de Pasteis de Nata, Rua do Loreto 2
A small and narrow space close to Baixa-Chiado Metro. There is a small bar at the back where you can see the pastries being made. My favourite place for a Pastel de Nata. Pity about the coffee. There is also a stall in the Time Out Market (see below).

Kiosk Cafes are regaining their popularity in Lisbon. Here is a rundown of Quiosques. Try Quiosque Lisboa, Praca Principe Real and nearby Quiosque de S. Pedro at the Miradouro on Rua Da Pedro V d'Alcantara which has a fine panoramic view taking in Castelo de S. Jorge in Alfama.

Time Out Market/Mercado do Ribeira at Cais do Sodre is useful to know about. Lots of food stalls and open until midnight.

For ice cream, I like Gelateria Nannarella at Rua Nova da Piedade 54A off the lovely, quiet Praca des Flores. Made by Italians. Natural ingredients. It's a tiny shop and you are likely to have to queue but it's worth it.

For coffee, I like Copenhagen Coffee Lab, Rua Nova da Piedade 10 (+ 2 other locations) cphcoffeelab.pt

Ginjinha hole-in-the-wall Gin Bars around Rossio Station - a shot, with or without sour cherries, for about 1 Euro.

Everybody recommends Taberna das Flores on Rua das Flores. I'm including it for that reason rather than recommending it. I loved it for lunch some years back but was disappointed with the dinner on this visit - and I queued and queued for the experience!

If you do find yourself on Rua das Flores and want to cool down, drink coffee/tea and eat chocolate cake, your are in a good place, look for Landau Chocolate cafe at No 70.

Japanese Kano Naizan Namban Screen detail
at Museu Nacional Di Arte Antiga, Lisbon

MUSEUMS/GALLERIES/SIGHTS

Museu Nacional Di Arte Antiga, Rua das Janelas Verdes.
12th-19th century paintings, sculpture, silver, gold, jewellery and decorative arts from Portugal and its former colonies. A whole room full of Zurbaran (the saints), Saint Jerome by Albrecht Durer
National treasures like The Panels of Saint Vincent by Nuno Conclaves and the Belem Monstrance. Also the Fantastic Japanese Kano Naizan Namban Screens which date from around 1600.

Museu Azulejo, Rua da Madre de Deus 4
If you aren't interested in tiles before you go to Lisbon you soon will be. Housed in a former convent, the museum covers the history and evolution of the art of the ceramic tile since the 1500's.

Fundacao Calouste Gulbenkian, Av. de Berna 45A
Huge international art collection. Modernist architecture. Beautiful garden.

Jardim Botanico, Principe Real, Lisbon

Universidade de Lisboa Jardim Botanico, Rua da Escola Politecnica 58
This is the botanical garden in central Lisbon - the Principe Real area. There is another in Belem. This one is very un-manicured and all the better for it. Atmospheric and the perfect place to cool off.

Bairro de Alfama
The best area to wander in when you don't mind getting lost in its winding streets. A great view from the Mirador Santo Estêvão. You may want to queue for entry to the Castelo Sao Jorge.

In Belem - Take Tram 15:
Monasteiros Geronimos Praça do Império, Belem. Spectacular Cloisters and Church (Vasco da Gama is buried here).
Torre de Belem Avenida de Brasilia, Belem
Monument to the Discoveries Avenida de Brasilia, Belem
Antigua Confeiteria de Belem Rua de Belem 84
Right next door to Monasteries Geronimos for Pasteis de Nata but it's way too touristy now - you might be lucky and hit a quiet moment. The tiling in the back rooms is worth a look.

In Cascais (train from Cais do Sodre station takes 40 minutes)
Museu Paula Rego Avenida da República 300, Cascais
Re-opens on 8 May with Paula Rego: Folktales and fairytales exhibition. Great architecture.

Carapau
at Mercado da Ribeira, Lisbon

MARKETS/SHOPPING

Mercado da Ribeira, Avenida 24 de Julho (06.00-14.00). These days very touristy, drawn by Time Out Market, with its dozens of prepared food stalls, occupying most of the building. I'm not convinced this is helping the market traders, though some say the Time Out stalls buy fresh produce from them .
Mercado de Alvalade Norte, Av. Rio de Janeiro, near the junction of Av. de Roma and Av. da Igreja (Metro Avalade)
A real fresh food market - good for fish and fruit/vegetables.
Prado Mercearia, Rua das Pedras Negras 35
Linked to Restaurante Prado (see above), this is a lovely little deli/grocery near the restaurante selling Portuguese produce. There is one small table and you can get a coffee and a little something.

MUSIC

Hot Clube de Portugal, Praca da Alegria 48
I love this jazz club. Only 10 Euros to get in, reasonably-priced drinks, very friendly. Strong Portuguese bias in the musicians.

Igreja, Lisbon

I wish I was coming with you!

OTHER LINKS:
Steve King's piece on Lisbon for Conde Nast Traveller describes the appeal of Lisbon really well, I think.
Nuno Mendes's Best Restaurant and Bars recommendations in Conde Nast Traveller.
You might also find the site Culinary Backstreets on Lisbon helpful.

Older postings of mine on Lisbon:
Lisbon highlights June 2017
Lisbon Autumn 2015

Fortitude Bakehouse

noreply@blogger.com (Evie) — Fri, 30 Mar 2018 13:27:00 +0000

Sticky Bun
at Fortitude Bakehouse

The aroma of melting cheese and warm Bara Brith is wafting from the open door of Fortitude Bakehouse on a soggy spring morning. It's a beguiling fusion of savoury and sweet on the nose. Spiced-up dried fruit and the right cheese have a harmonious relationship - Eccles Cake and Lancashire; Christmas fruitcake and Wensleydale; Malt Loaf and, well, take your pick but I'd go for tangy Cheshire. I've come across a Christmas Cake flavoured cheese, but best not to go there! At Fortitude today it's, maybe, fortuitous timing that sees me walking through the door to find Eccles Cakes on the counter, just-out-of-the-oven Bara Brith cooling in its loaf tin and Cheese & Leek Batons reaching peak aroma point in the oven. Symphonic scents.

Fortitude Bakehouse is the new venture of Jorge Fernandez, founder of Fernandez & Wells and Dee Retalli, founder of Patisserie Organic and until recently Operations Manager for Fernandez & Wells.
Slow ferment Sourdough craft-baking, sweet and savoury, and single-farm coffee is their usp but there are gluten-free and vegan bakes too. Wholesale and take-away is their focus but a strip of the small bakehouse is given over to those who can't wait to tuck-in and there is bench outside too. A Victoria Arduino coffee machine expresses the single-farm coffee and there is stone-rolled tea from the excellent Postcard Teas.

Fortitude Bakehouse

As far as the waistline goes, it's a dangerous place to linger. All the preparation and all the results are in full view, and smell. There's a constantly changing parade of bakes - Dee Retalli clearly has quite a repertoire to place before us - but a slice of that Bara Brith is a good starting point. Lightly spiced, good dried fruit and a great, satisfyingly chewy (in the best way) texture thanks to the sourdough ferment. The Sticky Buns are irresistible and the muffins are what you always hope they will be but seldom are. I've ordered enough bad ones to last a lifetime but my faith is restored by Dee's Carrot and Almond Muffin, not to mention the Bilberry version. And don't miss the Boiled Orange & Almond Cake - moist, sharp, sweet, bitter and fragrant. Or the Bostock, which until now has always failed to hit the spot for me.

Bostock
at Fortitude Bakehouse

Early-morning means a bowl of yogurt with granola (nut-free and delicious) with honey; you may find a Berber omelette stuffed into a Breakfast Batbout (Moroccan Pitta bread). There's an unmistakable Moorish influence in the Bakehouse. By mid-day expect to see a soup on offer, a seasonal salad like a bowl of grains, herbs and roast vegetables, and a Ryebread Tartine. Bread, right now, is not too much in the frame, - though rye, soda bread and flatbreads make an appearance. There's a customer appetite for it. Can they resist?

Carrot and almond muffin
at Fortitude Bakehouse

There are plans for baking classes and workshops and I, for one, can't wait.

You'll find Fortitude Bakehouse right behind Russell Square Tube Station. The Bloomsbury Mews setting is just right - nicely tucked away and not too prettified. The old 'Horse Hospital', now an arts venue, occupies the corner site right next door and is the signpost that you need to look for. Or follow your nose to those harmonious scents of dried fruit, spice and cheese.

Fortitude Bakehouse
35 Colonnade
Bloomsbury
London WC1N

Sabor Restaurant, London

noreply@blogger.com (Evie) — Fri, 09 Feb 2018 22:34:00 +0000

Pan Tomate, Cecina
at Sabor, London

I had to return quickly to Sabor to make sure that first visit hadn't just been a nice dream. It so easily could have been given that the restaurant has been 11 months in the making and its opening so eagerly awaited. On my visit last week, their first day open (something I almost never do), everyone involved was on their toes and ready to perform, though there was a palpable and endearing nervousness to the lunch service. Food and service were spot-on. After a second visit, slipping into that seat at the kitchen counter already felt cosily familiar.

Undoubtedly the way I feel about Sabor is due partly to the fact Nieves Barrágan Mohacho is in charge in the kitchen and that José Etura is orchestrating front of house. Until March 2017 both were mainstays of the much-loved Barrafina Group of tapas bars where Nieves earned a Michelin Star. I noticed a few other staff have migrated a little further west to Sabor. Barrafina are great at what they do but after 10 years, it's good to see Nieves able to give free-rein to her Basque roots at Sabor, and to see José spreading his talent for great service.

At time of writing the first-come-first-served ground floor restaurant, which wraps in an L-shape around the kitchen, is open. Groups of up to 4 can be accommodated and the small bar alongside, is also open. The cooking ranges from Andalucia through Galicia to Castile. The upstairs, bookable, Asador space is to follow at the beginning of March. Here the wood-fired oven (the Asador) will be roasting Suckling Pig and two enormous copper pans will be the cooking Octopus for traditional dishes the Castilian and Galician ways.

Arroz con Salmonete
at Sabor, London

Sabor translates into English as flavour and it's this that Nieves does so well. There's a daily menu which changes slightly according to seasonal variations plus a specials board. Pan Tomate Cecina was a slice of toasted bread topped with the juiciest tomato, expertly imbued with flavour despite the time of year, and topped with wafer-thin slices of jamon. You have to have it. And, of course the Tortilla. We tried two, one with Jamon and Artichokes and, on the next visit a Salt Cod version - both wonderful. Piquillo Croquetas, Zamorano were crisp as could be and mildly spicy with a buttery nuttiness from the Zamora province sheep's milk cheese. The Arroz con Salmonete (Red Mullet) dish pictured above was, sadly, someone else's order. Top of my list to try next time. We opted for the special of John Dory, which came with its fillets diced, tossed in flour and pimento then deep fried. The deep frying of the head and skeleton, on which the fillets were then re-arranged was appreciated for the opportunity to fish-out the cheeks. A tasty plate but, for me, the presentation didn't show the fish to its best advantage. Our portion of Presa Iberica 5 Jotas, Mojo Verde, was served with slivers of crisply-fried parsnip and was a juicy chunk of just pink pork on a bed of the traditional zesty coriander-based sauce. The Rabo de Toro (oxtail) was yielding and sticky from the richness of the sauce, the creamy potato side which came with it was expertly cut by a few slices of raw onion. Sublime.

Rabo de Toro
at Sabor, London

The list of puddings is short but considered. Seasonal rhubarb came in the form of Rhubarb and Mascarpone Tartaleta which made a very pretty plate - not yet tried. Goat's cheese ice cream with Liquorice Sauce is an interesting combination. Based on having tried the beautifully balanced Honey and Saffron Ice Cream, I look forward to trying it. Cuajada de Turron, Oloroso Cream seems to be destined to be a fixture on the menu as it is so good.

Honey & Saffron ice cream
at Sabor, London

As far as wine is concerned, so far the Páramos de Nicasia from Rueda and the Pasion de Bobal have been excellent choices. The list looks well worth exploring and Sabor Bar offers Spanish Vermouths, gins, sherries, txakolis, wines and beers to drink along with slices of Jamón Ibérico 5 Jotas, Ox tongue Carpaccio and little plates of Camarones fritos & fried egg.

If this is a dream, don't wake me up.

The Asador Kitchen brigade
Sabor, London

Sabor Restaurant
35-37 Heddon Street
London W1B 4BR

Bar Gresca, Barcelona

noreply@blogger.com (Evie) — Tue, 30 Jan 2018 17:48:00 +0000

Fried Gamba
at Bar Gresca, Barcelona

A few years ago I was taken to a very swanky restaurant in Barcelona. As someone who tends to follow their nose when it comes to food, I was puzzled by the lack of cooking smells. The plating was precise. Tweezers had most certainly been employed. The food was cool, very cool, and not in a good way. The service was positively frosty. It was the most sterile restaurant I have ever encountered. I had to see the kitchen. Taking a slow walk to the back of the room, ostensibly seeking the loo, the scene through the small glass panel in the kitchen door - there for the benefit of staff, not diners - was revealing. Lengths of stainless steel tables, drawers, cupboards and fridges, some open anonymous containers, a few white-aproned chefs plating-up delicate morsels of food with forensic intensity. This was more like a laboratory than a kitchen, a place where food was stripped of personality and presented as something denatured. I like a well-plated dish and these were undeniably pretty but, to me, the whole experience was unappealing.

Fresh Anchovies marinated with sesame and lemon
at Bar Gresca, Barcelona

The next day, after sniffing-out possibilites, we walked into Gresca. Owner/Chef Rafa Peña
worked at Ferran Adrià's El Bulli and Martin Berasategui's Lasarte so the modern techniques were there, but so too were great Catalan ingredients being sympathetically handled. Gresca made a much more positive impression on me. I wrote about it here. It was, and still is, a modern restaurant with a great love for Catalan ingredients. It's a great place to go for a Catalan tasting menu.

Being in Barcelona last week we intended to return to Gresca but were lured into the place right next door, because what was there was Bar Gresca. The original Gresca restaurant was slim and constrained. Taking a lease on the premises next door has allowed for a loosening of corsets. The two premises, now joined into a U shape has allowed for one large, well equipped kitchen to serve both restaurant and bar. And, joy of joys, some of the bar seating is almost in the kitchen. We went twice. The first time, seated close enough to the kitchen to see every dish come out. On the second visit we could almost shake a pan for them. My kind of eating. We'd also been told they kept good natural Catalan wines. My kind of drinking.

Bikini of Lomo Iberia & Comte Cheese
at Bar Gresca, Barcelona

So, what was coming out of said kitchen? Sea snails with mustard; Grilled beef liver with kimchi; Lacquered aubergine with herbs; Pork sandwich, creme fraiche and pickled vegetables; Cuttlefish with tomato; Lacquered mackerel; Pizza of burrata and black truffle; Veal cheeks with wine; Grilled Veal Nose; and a dish of Green peas with black truffle. Desserts were on the classic side with Pear tarte tatin and Pavlova with figs. This is small-plates dining and prices range from Euros 4 for a plate of Pan con Tomate to Euros 18 for Baby Cuttlefish with tomato. For seasonal specials, like truffle dishes, expect to pay Euros 20-27 for a plate.

Berberechos with vegetable vinaigrette
at Bar Gresca, Barcelona

I'll spare you the full list but we ate Berberechos with vegetable vinaigrette - the freshest of cockles served in their half-shell on a bed of salt were sweet, citrusy morsels bathed in their liquor; plump fresh anchovies had been marinated in sesame oil and lemon; Leeks in 'Salpicon' came as sliced roundels blanched, topped with spoonfuls of herby lactic cheese and strewn with sharp, piquant, pickled Guindilla peppers; Bikini of lomo iberico and Comte cheese - the thinnest slices of fried bread enclosing the filling to make the most addictive of sandwiches; Fried gamba were so sweet and crunchy that they begged to be eaten whole in their delicate shells; Surf-n-turf is rarely my thing but a dish of Meatballs with cuttlefish was outstandingly good - and refreshingly the least instagrammable plate of brown food I've seen for some time. For me, Desserts weren't the best thing here, but of the four on offer last week, I'd very happily order again the French toast served with a scoop of chocolate ice cream.

Meatballs with cuttlefish
at Bar Gresca, Barcelona

We drank very good, modestly-priced natural Spanish wines by the glass recommended by Sommelier Sergi, and were very happy to find a bottle of Lluerna from Pinedes' Els Vinyerons, a label we recently discovered in London via importer Aubert & Mascoli.

French toast
at Bar Gresca, Barcelona

Bar Gresca is top of my list for the next visit to Barcelona. The Gresca website is undergoing change - it's clearly not a priority for them - but here's a link to a recent review which echoes pretty well how we felt about Bar Gresca Bar Gresca visit by Food Barcelona, though I can't share Food Barcelona's longing for craft beer to join the drinks list!

My one criticism would be that the lighting was a challenge to my limited photographic skills but Gresca has lighting for cooking, not for styling. And if you don't sit within a pan-shake of the kitchen, take a walk-by. This is what a proper kitchen looks, and smells, like.

Gresca & Bar Gresca
Calle Provença, 230
08036 (Eixample) Barcelona
Metro: Diagonal (Exit: Provenca)
Tel: (+34) 93 451 6193

Five Books for Food Lovers 2017

noreply@blogger.com (Evie) — Fri, 08 Dec 2017 20:50:00 +0000

Five books for Food Lovers 2017

I bought so few food-related books in 2016 that I talked more about those trusted indispensables than the new in that round-up. This year, I faired rather better on the new books front. Here are the five I particularly want to recommend this year. As usual, there's an older book in there. And another was, strictly speaking, published in 2016. The list could have been longer but I've got to draw the line somewhere. There's a book to move my bread-making skills on from what has become my safe place; one to bring an antidote to that Sunday night gloom; there is a book that is spicing up my cooking; one to feed my mind with some serious talk about food production, culinary history and much more; and a book stuffed with recipes you really want to make again and again from a writer who moved Simon Hopkinson to say of her prose "Describing how to boil potatoes would inspire me...". Here they are, in no particular order:

Two Kitchens: Family Recipes from Sicily and Rome
by Rachel Roddy

Two Kitchens: Family Recipes from Sicily and Rome
by Rachel Roddy

Rachel Roddy's second book, Two Kitchens - Family Recipes from Sicily and Rome is a closely linked follow-up to her award winning Five Quarters - Recipes and notes from a kitchen in Rome and, again, you get so much more than just recipes. This time we join her in both Rome and Gela, the little town which guide books advise you to drive straight past. To Rachel it is "... full of disrepair and despair but quietly beautiful and intriguing if you give it time ...". It is Gela that blew away any romantic ideas about Sicily for the author - the utopian Mediterranean holiday island is a far cry from real life in the south east corner of the island. Poverty, dilapidation and bad agricultural practices are a fact of life that are not glossed over in the book. Yet the way of life in Gela has captivated her. ... Read more ...

The Sunday Night Book: 52 Short Recipes to Make the Weekend Feel Longer
by Rosie Sykes

The Sunday Night Book: 52 Short Recipes to Make the Weekend Feel Longer
by Rosie Sykes

I used to dread those last few sepulchral hours of the weekend, particularly in winter when it can feel like all traces of colour have leeched into the sodden earth. That Sunday night feeling when the prospect of a whole week of school hit like a freight train. How much more bearable those last few hours would have been if we had embraced the opportunity to cook together in the way chef Rosie Sykes's family did. Based on the kind of food they liked to cook and eat, The Sunday Night Book is the antidote to that Sunday night curtains-drawn glumness. But whatever the day of the week, it's uplifting cooking to banish the blues. There are failsafe recipes for comforting dishes on toast; one-pot dishes that you deliberately make too much of just so you have leftovers for later in the week; a bowl of pasta, of course; something eggy; light salads for when the weekend has been too good; ideas for leftovers; and, at the end of the book, "if all else fails" there's a chapter on Cocktails and a little bite to eat. ... Read more ...

Reinventing the Wheel: Milk, Microbes and the Fight for Real Cheese
by Bronwen & Francis Percival

Reinventing the Wheel: Milk, Microbes and the Fight for Real Cheese
by Bronwen & Francis Percival

I confess as a cheese appreciator I had been looking forward to this book, but Reinventing the Wheel is not just for cheese lovers. It's a book for anyone who cares about the food they eat and the welfare of those who produce it. It tackles the wisdom of mega-dairies and industrialisation and the tension between modernity and tradition. Across 12 chapters, Bronwen and Francis Percival examine the culinary history, terroir, microbiology, sociology and politics of cheesemaking. ... Read more ...

Fresh India: 130 Quick, Easy and Delicious Vegetarian Recipes for Every Day
by Meera Sodha

Fresh India: 130 Quick, Easy and Delicious Vegetarian Recipes for Every Day
by Meera Sodha
My bookshelves are light on Indian food books. I love Indian food and relish it when someone who really knows what they are doing cooks it for me. However, I've always been unconvinced that I can get the spicing right. I think I do a reasonable Lamb Rogan Josh. This, I feel sure, would qualify as one of those dishes "swimming in brown sauce" which is far removed from the "fresh, vibrant and seasonal" Gujarati ones in this book. I have a more than acceptable Chicken Biryani in my repertoire, thanks to the cook and food writer Sri Owen (yes, I know Sri Owen is Indonesian but she knows her way around a number of cuisines). It comes with a long list of spices and yogurt for saucing and made me appreciate how subtle Indian spicing can be. But it's the incredible range of vegetarian dishes which have come out of India that I most enjoy, and most want to be able to cook. My copy of Madhur Jaffrey's, admittedly weighty, World Vegetarian can only give me a glimpse of India.

Finally, I've found a book that is giving me the confidence to cook Indian vegetarian food myself. Fresh India by Meera Sodha is a follow-up to her well received first book Made in India. ..... Read more ...

Tartine Book No. 3
by Chad Robertson

Tartine Book No 3
by Chad Robertson

My food books list back in 2014 included a recommendation for Tartine Bread by Chad Robertson. He probably needs no introduction but the book is all about the use of natural leaven (levain or sourdough), which French bakers used for bread, croissants and brioche until the 1930's when commercial yeast became available. After years of believing I could never produce a decent loaf in a domestic kitchen, I put my faith in Chad, and a 'Dutch Oven', and have never looked back. Tartine Book No. 3, published in 2013, was a welcome present this year to move my bread-making skills on from what has become my comfort zone. Because there is much to be discovered beyond Country Whites, Wholewheats and Ryes. A whole world of ancient, sprouted and double-fermented grains, porridge breads, crispbreads and pastries awaits. I'm just getting started with Tartine Book No. 3 so you can take this book recommendation with a pinch of salt, but it's a recommendation built on the strength of my 'oven spring'.

If you are into bread making, or thinking about it, you might like this piece I wrote when I was getting started - The Sweet and the Sour

Fresh India by Meera Sodha

noreply@blogger.com (Evie) — Wed, 06 Dec 2017 19:18:00 +0000

Fresh India
by Meera Sodha

My bookshelves are light on Indian food books. I love Indian food and relish it when someone who really knows what they are doing cooks it for me. However, I've always been unconvinced that I can get the spicing right. I think I do a reasonable Lamb Rogan Josh. This, I feel sure, would qualify as one of those dishes "swimming in brown sauce" which is far removed from the "fresh, vibrant and seasonal" Gujarati ones in this book. I have a more than acceptable Chicken Biryani in my repertoire, thanks to the cook and food writer Sri Owen (yes, I know Sri Owen is Indonesian but she knows her way around a number of cuisines). It comes with a long list of spices and yogurt for saucing and made me appreciate how subtle Indian spicing can be. But it's the incredible range of vegetarian dishes which have come out of India that I most enjoy, and most want to be able to cook. My copy of Madhur Jaffrey's, admittedly weighty, World Vegetarian can only give me a glimpse of India.

Finally, I've found a book that is giving me the confidence to cook Indian vegetarian food myself. Fresh India by Meera Sodha is a follow-up to her well received first book Made in India. It is informed by her family's Gujarati background, which is still a strong influence even though she grew up in a farming village in Lincolnshire. Ready access to fresh, locally-grown seasonal vegetables and the Gujarati way of "creative, fresh and always vegetables first" when cooking chimes with my own way of thinking and cooking - goodness knows I have access to enough vegetables. In line with the Gujarati cuisine ethos, born out of necessity, of using what is fresh and grows nearby meant a life in rural England offered up potatoes, leeks, corn, chard, cauliflower and more greens. These ingredients are what Meera Sodha's mother turned to for her "vegetable-first" way of cooking and many take a starring role in Fresh India.

I'm not a vegetarian, but like so many others now, meat plays a small roll in my, and my family's, diet. There's an emphasis on seasonality, a desire to "honour the seasons" which I am personally committed to - irritatingly so to some, I suspect. I am lucky enough to be able to grow vegetables on my allotment and, when you grow, you can never have enough recipes for vegetables. There's even a roundup of recipes here "for allotment gluts". The recipes are also presented as "quick" and "easy". So, on flipping through the pages in the bookshop, Fresh India appealed to me on so many levels.

There are 'Starters + Snacks' based around irresistible Indian street food dishes expertly prepared by the 'one-man' stallholder - like New Potato and Chickpea Chaat, and Beetroot Pachadi. There are really simple dishes: Smashed Jerusalem Artichokes with butter, pepper and garlic, perfumed with cumin, ginger and coriander stems and Gujarati Corn on the Cob Curry with peanuts for taste and texture. I subscribe entirely to the writer's view that when you want to eat simply, "not much beats a tangle of soft buttery cabbage with sweet caramelised onions and crisp potatoes ..". Savoy Cabbage, Black Kale + Potato Subji with a suggestion to serve with a fiery pickle and hot chapattis, dal or rice in the chapter 'Gloriously Green' is right up my street. There's a chapter on Salads, despite the fact 'Kachumbar' (generally chopped cucumber, tomatoes, green chilli and lime) until recently was almost the only Indian idea of salad. Here the writer uses her imagination for what Indian salads could be with appetising ideas like Fennel + Apple Chaat with caramelised almonds or a Hot Green Bean, Cashew + Coconut Salad.

Maharajah's Rice
cooked from Fresh India by Meerha Sodha

Eggs + Cheese (mostly in the form of paneer) are major sources of protein and here we are offered Akoori - the Parsi take on scrambled eggs; a Mumbai classic, Eggs Kejriwal - which brings to my mind a kind of Welsh Rarebit topped with a fried egg; and Sticky Mango Paneer Skewers. Of course there are chapters on Pulses and Rice with recipes like Pumpkin, Black-Eyed Bean + Coconut Curry; sweet and creamy Bengali Coconut Dal; a Daybreak Kedgeree (kitchari) which I very much want to make; and a Maharajah's Rice which I have made - beautifully, subtly spiced, pretty as a picture and delicious.

There are recipes for all those moreish Indian breads - Roti, Paratha, Naan, and Dosa - and guidance for what each is best with; and a lovely sounding recipe for breakfast Banana and Cardamom Buns. In a section on Pickles, Chutneys + Raitas, Mysore Lemon Pickle sits happily with Rhubarb + Ginger Chutney. Puddings that particularly appeal are Pan-fried Pineapple with Cardamom Ice Cream and Salted Jaggery Kulfi with Bananas.

At the moment, I'm working through the book one dish at a time, excited at the prospect that one day soon I will manage to produce the bread, pickles, chutneys and raitas that I'd like to accompany them.

I love that Fresh India carries none of the usual blurb from others. For me, this is a confidently written book that stands on its own merit.

Fresh India by Meerha Sodha
Publisher: Fig Tree London

Reinventing the Wheel: Milk, Microbes and the Fight for Real Cheese

noreply@blogger.com (Evie) — Mon, 04 Dec 2017 10:47:00 +0000

Reinventing the Wheel
by Bronwen and Francis Percival

I confess as a cheese appreciator I had been looking forward to this book, but Reinventing the Wheel is not just for cheese lovers. It's a book for anyone who cares about the food they eat and the welfare of those who produce it. It tackles the wisdom of mega-dairies and industrialisation and the tension between modernity and tradition. Across 12 chapters, Bronwen and Francis Percival examine the culinary history, terroir, microbiology, sociology and politics of cheesemaking.

We journey through 2,000 years of cheesemaking starting with the "feral", "primal" Salers cheese production on a farm in France's Auvergne region and the effect of the arrival of American factory cheese on British cheese production at the end of the 19th century. There are stories from dairy farmers forced towards consolidation, volume and efficiency for survival; Cheesemakers weighed down by legislation and bureaucracy, and other who have already fought the system and won with the help of microbiologists. We take in Microbes and Risks along the way.

Reinventing the Wheel examines what has been lost as cheese production has 'progressed' in tandem with intensive farming and industrialisation. It's a tale of much loss but with reason for optimism for the future if we are prepared to learn from, rather than reject, the methods of the past. Bronwen and Francis Percival's book is a paean to artisanal cheeses. Cheeses that once all had a sense of place thanks to the healthy microbial communities specific to their geographic location, animal husbandry and production practices that contribute to their flavour and to their safety. This book reveals the truth about our current dairy industry and how science is revealing the positives of microbial activity. It's a beacon of light for those farmers and cheesemakers who want to seize on scientific facts to fight back against industrial homogeneity and rescue traditional cheesemaking.

Reinventing the Wheel is a learned, fact-filled call to arms to scientists, health officials and legislators to work alongside dairy farmers and cheesemakers to enable them to produce cheese which is not only full of character but full of healthy bacteria. To work with good microbes that have a positive effect on our immune system rather than wiping out the good along with the bad.

The book is aimed at the consumer too as, the Percivals believe, a lack of understanding of the cheesemaking process threatens the integrity of cheese. Labelling for instance is often misleading as "The label on the cheese is not there to help". In a world where "the word 'Artisan' can be, and is, used to describe just about anything short of a Dairylea cheese slice" the consumer needs to inform herself. We need a book like this which makes us think more deeply about our food, makes us demand real food.

Reinventing the Wheel: Milk, Microbes and the fight for Real Cheese
by Bronwen and Francis Percival
Bloomsbury Publishing

Syllabub & boozy cherries

noreply@blogger.com (Evie) — Wed, 29 Nov 2017 15:27:00 +0000

Syllabub with eau-de-vie cherries

Winter's chill is not something we want to think of when market stalls are piled high with the sweetest English strawberries, peas in their pods and sharp, grassy gooseberries. When the English cherry harvest joins the party, around the third week in June, the cold months seem a long way off. But if you are a preserver, you always have a thought for those little jars and bottles you can squirrel away at the back of a cupboard. The bitter orange marmalades and quince jellies, glowing like stained glass when you hold them up to the light; perfumed apricot jams and black as night damson; slabs of fruit 'cheese' and sharp fruit vinegars. The cherry harvest is short and sweet. Within 6-8 weeks the harvest has moved from white Napoleon to deep-dark Regina and the time has come to decide how best to preserve some fruits to bring out in the depths of winter.

Cherry jam is good but there is only so much jam a family can eat. Cherries in eau-de-vie is better. Not only do you have delicious, boozy cherries to eat but there's cherry liqueur in time for Christmas too. You can use kirsch or vodka instead of eau-d-vie, or even brandy, if you like. General guidance for the method comes from Jane Grigson. Fill a jar almost to the top with washed and dried cherries, pricking each fruit 2 or 3 times. Pour in enough caster sugar to come about a third of the way up the jar then fill to cover the fruit with eau-de-vie. Close the jar and give it a shake. Leave in a cool dark place for at least 3 months (I've done so for more than a year), shaking it from time to time to fully dissolve the sugar.

I don't ever remember eating cherries as a child growing up in northern England. I've learned they grow best in Southern and Central England which would account for it. My early experience of them was limited to those jars of ruby red maraschino cherries which made an appearance at Christmas time, always brought out by the Auntie who liked a cocktail. The one who was the most fun.

With a history going back to at least the 17th century, originally syllabub was a frothy drink made by milking directly from the cow into a bowl of wine, cider or ale which caused the milk to curdle. As you can imagine, it was intended to be consumed on the spot. Syllabub progressed to a firmer textured cream by whipping in sharp fruit syrups or wine. This dish was more stable than the original, so, it was possible to keep it for a day or two. Hannah Glasse in her book The Art of Cookery Made Plain and Easy, first published in 1747, describes a recipe for 'Everlasting Syllabub' which calls for "Rehnish wine, half a pint of sack and two large Seville oranges" to join the milk. She also stipulates the addition of calf's foot jelly. The sturdiness of the finished dish can only be imagined.

The recipe for syllabub below is the one I always turn to since it was recommended to me years ago. I'm sure I was told it was a Katie Stewart recipe from when she wrote food columns for newspapers. I vary the wine/liqueur depending on what I am pairing the syllabub with - sometimes I reach for white wine or sherry or, maybe, elderflower cordial instead. This time I wanted something to match the almond quality of the cherries which comes from steeping them with their stones intact, so, Amaretto seemed right. The toasted almonds, which provide a necessary crunch, could be replaced by an almond biscuit.

The dish is light enough to make a Christmas meal dessert and you can prepare it in advance. I know if you want to replicate this recipe right now you'll need to buy some cherries in eau-de-vie. But next year, when the cherry season arrives, you won't!

Syllabub with eau-de-vie cherries and almonds

Syllabub with eau-de-vie Cherries
(Serves 6)

Around sweet 40 cherries (drained from the eau-de-vie)
250ml (10 fl oz) double cream
100g (4 oz) caster sugar
Grated rind and juice of 1 lemon
2 tablespoons Amaretto liqueur
25g (1 oz) toasted almonds

Cut the cherries in half and lift out the stones. Place all but 6 pitted cherries in the serving glasses/dishes.
Whisk the cream, sugar, lemon rind and juice and the liqueur together to the consistency of mayonnaise (should happen very quickly) and divide between the 6 glasses/dishes.

Place in the fridge for at least two hours, but it will keep refrigerated for up to 24 hours. Top with the toasted almonds before serving.

The Sunday Night Book by Rosie Sykes

noreply@blogger.com (Evie) — Mon, 13 Nov 2017 21:44:00 +0000

The Sunday Night Book by Rosie Sykes

I used to dread those last few sepulchral hours of the weekend, particularly in winter when it can feel like all traces of colour have leeched into the sodden earth. That Sunday night feeling when the prospect of a whole week of school hit like a freight train. How much more bearable those last few hours would have been if we had embraced the opportunity to cook together in the way chef Rosie Sykes's family did. Based on the kind of food they liked to cook and eat, The Sunday Night Book is the antidote to that Sunday night curtains-drawn glumness. But whatever the day of the week, it's uplifting cooking to banish the blues. There are failsafe recipes for comforting dishes on toast; one-pot dishes that you deliberately make too much of just so you have leftovers for later in the week; a bowl of pasta, of course; something eggy; light salads for when the weekend has been too good; ideas for leftovers; and, at the end of the book, "if all else fails" there's a chapter on Cocktails and a little bite to eat.

Rosie Sykes has worked in the kitchens of some of the greats in British food, including Joyce Molyneux, Shaun Hill, Alistair Little and Margot Henderson. I've eaten her food in a number of restaurants over the years and I know it pays to 'follow the chef'. Her menus make your heart sing and the food she prepares is invariably delicious, soothing and heartwarming. The recipes in this book are quick to prepare. Many make use of fresh ingredients but a good number reach for store cupboard staples. The chances are high of finding a recipe that is easy and satisfying despite the fact you haven't been able to shop, and we all need a book like that.

Caerphilly with leeks and mustard
from The Sunday Night Book by Rosie Sykes

I've cooked Caerphilly with leeks and mustard, a less cheesy take on Welsh rarebit. The 'can we have this again soon please' request came on first bite. Bacon and egg pie was a real flashback to childhood. Easy to make and so easy to eat. Next time I want to wrap it in newspaper and take it on a picnic. A Spanish recipe for Eggs in a pestle and mortar came next for the promise that I will be "amazed that something so seemingly unconventional can taste so utterly delicious" It did and I was. There is nothing in the ingredients lists of these recipes that doesn't need to be there. In my experience, this is a rare thing in the current crop of cookery books.

Bacon and egg pie
from The Sunday Night Book by Rosie Sykes

Among the recipes I've place-marked are Fregola with bacon and peas, and if it tastes half as good as Patricia Niven's photograph suggests I'll be a very happy diner; Bouillabaisse of peas and beans, inspired by the French classic fish soup; Coddled eggs Ivanhoe for the delight of egg married with smoked haddock; and the Quick cheese straws to remind me of the start of a sublime meal at Joyce Molyneux's Carved Angel restaurant - yes I still remember it, and that River Dart Salmon in a butter sauce in particular.

Beginnings of Eggs in a pestle and mortar
from The Sunday Night Book by Rosie Sykes

The final chapter, on 'Pick-me-ups and pop-it-in-in-ones' makes a high-spirited ending. Original and imaginative Cocktail recipes are from the inimitable Gimlet Bar. Born out of of a performance work at the Slade School of Fine Art, this movable cocktail bar-for-hire makes in my view, the best cocktails in London so it's no small thing to have some of their recipes here. Rosie's knowledge ensures each glass is paired perfectly with an edible treat. A Light-emitting diode - a variant on a whiskey sour? Try a plate of Squash and truffle brandade; feeling like a citrusy, bitter Reichenbach Falls? You'll be wanting a few Shallot, parmesan and olive toasts.

It may seem odd to mention the size of the book but I love the fact it is hand size - A5. It feels good and it's the perfect size for popping in your bag for those weekends away when you are going to have access to a kitchen. And the beautiful block-print cover by Alexis Snell with restrained little stamps - a tin of anchovies here, a dog-in-a-basket (Rosie's beloved Florence) there - punctuating each chapter makes it look good too. I'm a bit of a fan of Patricia Niven and here her photography is crisp and bright, true and unfussy, just the way I like it.

This is unpretentious cooking at its best and it's one of those rare books I bought two copies of - I've only ever done that with Simon Hopkinson and Rachel Roddy's books before now. And I know exactly where the second one is going. Yes, those "How to ..." books are invaluable but this is the perfect book for anyone leaving home who needs a heartwarming book that makes them actually want to spend some time in the kitchen.

The Sunday Night Book: 52 short recipes to make the weekend feel longer by Rosie Sykes
Published by: Quadrille

Turin Time

noreply@blogger.com (Evie) — Thu, 19 Oct 2017 18:44:00 +0000

Time for Dinner in Turin

I live in a city of around 8 million people and, yet, when I need to breathe some distant air I'm far more likely to choose another city than that beach holiday or country house hotel break. Venice, Florence, Paris, yes please. I like the hustle and bustle of cities, but I like a sense of lives being lived too. Some places can be just too set in aspic and a bit of grit in the oyster is not a bad thing. So, to Turin - an industrial city with a baroque heart.

Alpine view, Turin

I was there in 2004 when Turin was preparing to host the 2006 Winter Olympics. The spectacularly beautiful Alpine range filling the skyline to the north was at odds with our evening taxi drive from the airport. The City was grimy, noisy and confusing thanks to the construction of stadia and a new Metro system which was part of the Olympic package. Next day we discovered the almost 10 miles of baroque colonnades and over 40 museums offered an escape from the cacophony. And then there was the food. Piedmont, of which Turin is the capital, is after all where 'Slow Food' was born and we were there primarily for the Terra Madre Salone del Gusto.

Open door in Turin

On returning to Turin this Autumn that Metro proved invaluable and there were signs that more tourists - though, thankfully, not too many on our visit - were now enjoying those collonaded walks, museums and cafe's. Turin's Olympian effort has paid off in terms of attracting visitors. But there are also signs that not everyone has benefited. Homelessness is more visible and there is a legacy of crumbling Olympic structures with migrants and refugees occupying the former athletes' village, not altogether comfortably.

Piazza Reale, Turin

For 300 years Turin was the capital of Savoy and became the first capital of a unified Italy in 1861. But a mere 3 years later the seat of power was relocated to Florence then centrally located Rome. Turin turned to industrialisation and the automotive industry became vitally important. There were many companies but it's Fiat we associate with Turin thanks to the construction of its Lingotto car factory opened in 1923. These days Fiat is less important to Turin's economy. The hugely successful Fiat 500, in its new guise, is manufactured not in Italy but in Mexico and Poland, though their luxury brand Maserati is locally made. The Lingotto 'Centre' is now in commercial use.

With 8 Royal Palaces amongst those 40+ museums, colonnaded streets, tree-lined avenues, elegant architecture and good food, Turin is no longer just an industrial city but a centre for culture and tourism too. So, what to see and do?

Walk the Colonnades and tree-lined avenues; the City is built on a grid system, so you're unlikely to get lost. A walk up the Via Roma from Metro Porta Nuova is a grand central start taking in four of the main Piazzas and the ritziest of shops.

Pasta e Ceci
at Caffe Platti, Turin

There are so many cafes and bars in Turin that frequent stops are inevitable for coffee (this is the home of Lavazza) a Bicerin, the local chocolate/coffee/cream indulgence, or an aperitivo. The grandest and most recommended of the old guard are Caffe Torino and Caffe San Carlo where the price of a coffee is low despite the splendour of the rooms and the locations. Historic Caffe al Bicerin at Piazza della Consolata 5 is considered the best place to order a Bicerin. Piedmont grows very fine hazelnuts, many of which go into the hazelnut and chocolate spread called Gianduja and into filled Giandujotto chocolates. The chocolate making industry goes back hundreds of years in Turin and bean-to-bar maker Guido Gobino is considered one of the best here. If your taste runs more to Nutella, you may be interested to know Turin is its home.

Papardelle Funghi
at Caffe Platti, Turin

We had fond memories of the belle époque Caffe Platti at Corso Vittorio Emmanuelle II, 72 and were so happy to find it again. I read that it had closed in 2015 but if this is so then the new owners have done a fine job of making it feel like it never went away. Plates of Paccheri Rigati Pasta with chickpeas (Pasta e Ceci) scented with rosemary was wonderful, and local Porcini came in the form of Papardelle Funghi. We noticed restaurant Sotto la Mole (at the foot of the Mole Antonelliana) was still going strong. The memory of a plate of truffled cheese agnolotti still lingers in my mind but we were a little early for the white truffle season and we ran out of time to visit this time round.

If it's Michelin stars you're looking for, head for Del Cambio where Matteo Baronetto is serving up one star food overlooking unified Italy's first Parliament building in Piazza Carignano. Expect glittering chandeliers, red velvet, crisp linen and baroque mirrors along with traditional Piemontese dishes. The restaurant has been feeding the great and the good since 1757 - from Cavour, Casanova, Balzac, Nietzsche and Verdi to Maria Callas, Audrey Hepburn and the Agnelli (Fiat) family, of course.

Veal braised in Ruchè wine
at Consorzio

For a much more recent addition to Turin dining, book Consorzio at Via Monte di Pieta, 23. It describes itself as "Well-rooted in the Piemonte area with an eye on faraway regions ..". The sourcing of ingredients here is exemplary, the handling deft and the service without fuss. The Steak tartare Piemontese style was served starkly as a disk of raw beef with salt, pepper and good olive oil; Agnolotti Gobbo pasta was stuffed with three different kinds of meat with enough fattiness to make them luscious, rich little morsels; Veal braised in Ruchè wine, a Piemontese red wine, was deep and succulent; and then came the best Panna Cotta ever, so light on gelatin that it barely held, yet every one emerging from the kitchen wobbled to its table intact. Wines are mostly Natural and a bottle of Barbera d'Asti Trenchiro Terra del Noche sated well our increased liking for the Barbera grape. Consorzio is one of those rare places where you feel there is a real meeting of minds and appetites in the kitchen and out front.

Banco Vini e Alimenti, Turin

We also liked Consorzio's bar, Banco Vini e Alimenti a short walk away. With a narrow frontage at via dei Merchant 13/f, it's easy to miss. It is quietly friendly, keeps a great range of natural wines and serves up simple dishes like farinata fritta and Alice fritte and larger ones like roasted hake with crispy prosciutto or spaghettoni all vongole. It's small and can get busy but there's a deli counter at the back which means you can pick up some slices of mortadella, a piece of cheese and a bottle of wine to take out.

Porcini Seller at Mercato Porta Palazzo, Turin

Shop the Markets. There are 42 open-air markets in Turin. Mercato Porta Palazzo at Piazza della Repubblica is the biggest and is open Monday-Saturday. There are scores of stalls surrounded by buildings housing fish, meat and cheese halls, but the north-eastern corner was where we found the 'farmers market' - where the best stuff was. But it was the outdoor market in Piazza Madama Christina we fell for, where there were the most signs stating "nostrano (ours/home grown) and where we watched one smallholder clean and place his haul of porcini like each was a precious gem. What we saw on the market stalls was reflected in the restaurant dishes - seasonality is alive and well in Turin.

We stopped for coffee, several times, at Orso Laboratorio at Via Berthollet 30g. And, joyfully, right next door - through a connecting door in fact - we found Mara dei Boschi Laboratorio del Gelato which is very good indeed. The memory of the Nocciola and, also, the Fichi gelato will stay with me for some time.

For taking in those Alpine views you couldn't head higher than the Mole Antonelliana on Via Montebello. This unmissable building, standing at more than 167 metres, was originally conceived as a synagogue until the architect's desire to go upwards went too far and the money ran out. It's now home to the Museo Nazionale de Cinema.

Rooftop Test Track at Lingotto Centre, Turin

It's nowhere near as tall, but the view from the Lingotto Centre on Via Nizza (Metro: Lingotto) would be my choice. The old factory was redesigned in the 1980's by Renzo Piano and now includes an hotel, conference centre, theatre, and shopping mall. I love the industrial architecture but it's the rooftop test track that is the draw, along with the 360 degree view complete with that Alpine horizon to the north. As everyone will tell you, scenes from the original 1969 The Italian Job were filmed here. If you stay in either of the hotels in the Lingotto building you can ask for a key to access the rooftop but, as part of your entrance charge, you can also gain access when visiting the Pinacoteca Giovanni e Marella Agnelli - Canaletto, Canova and Matisse are represented in the gallery's permanent collection. For real petrolheads, the Museo dell' Automobile is nearby.

Natura Morta (1957) by Giorgio Morandi
at the Galleria d'Arte Moderna (GAM)

There must be a museum to suit everyone in Turin but I would head for the Museo d'Arte Orientale (MAO), and the Museo Egizio which has one of the largest collections of Egyptian antiquities in the world. Also, the Museo d'Arte Contemporanea at Castello di Rivoli - out of town but there is a free shuttle bus. I have to admit to being a bit underwhelmed by Galleria d'Arte Moderna (GAM) but they do have some admirable Morandi works. I wish I had visited the Museo della Frutta!

Cheese 2017 in Bra

Our visit was timed to coincide with the International Cheese festival which is held bi-annually in the lovely small town of Bra, around 50km south-east of Turin. So, along with what seemed like half of Turin, we took the train to this highly regarded Slow Food event which this year, bravely, was all about raw milk. Neals Yard Dairy explain the importance of this event best.

Apart from tasting and learning more about cheese, it's a chance to get up close to the Slow Food movement whose HQ is in Bra. Here the association plans and promotes their worldwide projects. Their philosophy "envisions a world in which all people can access and enjoy food that is good for them, good for those who grow it and good for the planet".

Roast Goose Leg
at Boccon di Vino, Bra

In the HQ's courtyard sits the cooperative Osteria Boccon di Vino (Via Mendicita, 14) where we lunched very happily on plates of pasta: Tajarin with shavings of black truffle, Agnolotti del plin al burro e rosmarino; Melting roast goose leg and slow-cooked veal in red wine; and, inevitably, Panna Cotta to finish. Oh, and more delicious local Barbera wine. Despite having to queue, this was a lovely relaxing place to lunch with great staff and very good food.

For coffee we took the recommendation to visit Bottega delle Delizie at Via Polenzo, 6, Bra. Specialising in sourcing and serving up northern European style roasts, this is not coffee in Italy as I know it and it's all the better for that. The coffee we drank had been roasted locally but they also had guest coffees from Five Elephants and Paolo told us they were expecting some Nomad Coffee from Barcelona soon. Really good coffee served with genuine charm and enthusiasm. I loved this place.

So, what is Turin Time - or Piemontese Time? For me it has to be autumn, when the hazelnuts have been harvested, the grape harvest is well under way, the porcini are in the kitchen and there's the promise of truffles arriving.

Border Crossing
Italy-France

If you have the time, going to Turin by train is the scenic option!

Porcini, Ceps and Penny Buns

noreply@blogger.com (Evie) — Fri, 29 Sep 2017 18:50:00 +0000

Porcini, Ceps, or Penny Buns

I love early autumn for many reasons - turning leaves on the trees, misty mornings, steamed-up windows, long walks, ankle-deep piles of fallen leaves, pub fires, thick wooly jumpers, mugs of hot chocolate. To be honest, this year, apart from the very first hints of leaf colour, I've seen none of these yet. Summer and autumn are battling for supremacy here, the seasons see-sawing back and forth from day to day. Summer is reluctant to give way, which means at the end of September I'm still harvesting courgettes and runner beans from the allotment.

But one day of dampness and another of warm sun seems to be perfect for the growth of wild mushrooms this year. I don't forage for them because I really don't know my mushrooms from my toadstools. Only a few mushroom varieties have been successfully cultivated and none of those can match the flavour of uncultivated ones. They lack the predictability of cultured mushrooms so are expensive, but a little goes a long way. If you dehydrate them, the flavour goes even further.

In Scotland, conditions have been perfect for Chanterelle mushrooms with their delicate brown caps and spindly yellow stems and the stockier yellow Girolles (of the same family as Chanterelles and, so, sometimes also offered as 'Chanterelles') whose flesh is white when cut and smells faintly of apricots. The earthy flavour of uncultivated mushrooms, redolent of bosky, mossy woodland is the essence of autumn in the kitchen. But its the strapping Boletus edulis - Porcini, Cep, Penny Bun - which have a symbiotic relationship with oak, beech, birch and coniferous trees, that I'm focusing on here. Although they do grow in the UK, they are much more prolific in Italy and France and, having just returned from Piedmont I can tell you they are all over the market stalls there right now. They can range hugely in size and the small ones are good sliced and eaten raw. They have a cap that looks like a crusty bread roll - hence their English name, Penny Bun - and a stem that is thick and swollen. Underneath the cap, the fine pores are white but age to yellow before becoming green and spongy. The stem should be thick and firm but it becomes yielding with age and/or the attention of worms, who like them as much as we do. With proper cooking this fungi's firm texture and earthy, mildly-meaty flavour takes on a caramelic quality.

It's generally agreed that frying is the best way to cook mushrooms. The oil or butter, or mixture of both, should be heated highly enough to sear the mushrooms rather than stew them. I always season mine at the end of cooking as salt draws out their water content in the pan affecting caramelisation. The simpler the treatment in the kitchen the better. Garlic and parsley are essential, I think. You could stop right there for me and just pile the contents of the pan on a slice of toast. But I am fond of this recipe which introduces its carbohydrate in the form of potatoes. Not just any potato but a firm, waxy variety like La Ratte, Anya, Charlotte or Pink Fir Apple. It's based on Simon Hopkinson's 'Persillade of ceps & potatoes' from his book The Vegetarian Option. A book which is on and off my bookcase with remarkable frequency, as it is packed with dishes which appeal whether you are vegetarian or not.

Persillade of Ceps & Potatoes

Persillade of Ceps & Potatoes
(Serves 2)

2-3 medium-sized waxy potatoes (like La Ratte, Anya, Charlotte or Pink Fir Apple), peeled
4 medium sized Ceps, brushed clean of soil and trimmed
A good handful of fresh flat-leaved parsley
2 garlic cloves, crushed
3-4 tablespoons olive oil
Salt and pepper

Finely shred the potatoes and wash in several changes of cold water until the water is clear.
Drain and dry well.
Slice the ceps thinly.
*Chop together the crushed garlic and parsley leaves.
Heat 2 tablespoons of the olive oil in a large frying pan. Fry the ceps until lightly coloured, season with salt and pepper, then transfer to a plate and put aside.
Add the rest of the oil to the pan and sauté the shredded potatoes until beginning to colour. Season with salt and pepper.
Add the cooked ceps and the mixture of chopped garlic and parsley and cook on a medium high heat for another minute or two.

Eat immediately!

* Simon Hopkinson is insistent that garlic and parsley should be chopped together, not separately, for the particular aroma and flavour this produces - I think he's right.