Christmas shortcuts

Today is Christmas eve - preparation day. Although I'm not cooking Christmas this year I've promised to contribute a few things for the table.

I hope I never become a fretter about cooking Christmas dinner. I've only ever cooked the whole thing once in my life but had a big helping hand for many other years and I've always loved getting involved. For me, to avoid fretting, shortcuts are the answer. I'm not talking Delia and her tin of stagg mince in a cottage pie (what happened Delia?) but just adding a bit of sparkle to Christmas food staples by personalising your dishes. 

I've already got my easy peasy braised red cabbage in the oven. Although it's done from scratch it's an easy, stress free, leave-it-alone-for-two-hours feast. Next up though I'm making a Christmas stuffing and some mince pies. 

Bulked out mince pies
For my mince pies I'm going to tip a jar of mincemeat into a bowl and just add stuff. Cranberries, walnuts, diced apple, sherry...whatever I can find to jazz it up and make it my own. I'm not mashing suet or finely slicing candied peel - I'm treating the mincemeat as the raw ingredient, a base for something altogether more special and tasty.

2 in 1 stuffing
Next up, the stuffing. Growing up I didn't trust anything except Paxo. It was only when I was older - realising I actually needed to try things to decide whether I liked them - that I sampled my mum's homemade apricot and bacon stuffing. It was a thing of wonder and now my eldest sister won't sit down to eat Christmas dinner unless mum supplies it. 

So here I learned a valuable lesson in flavours other than sage and onion. But while my sister gorged solely on a good helping of mum's star stuffing, I still always had to have Paxo at the table. Years later I've discovered a compromise. I use Paxo (other non-brand sagey oniony stuffings are just as good) as purely a base for my perfect stuffing. 

In a pan, I soften finely chopped onions in butter, add sliced celery for crunch, chop in some streaky bacon, diced apple and - for christmas - a few cranberry quarters. I then bind these ingredients with the paxo and cook as usual. It's stress-free and rolls my two stuffing loves into one. 

Back to the kitchen. Happy Christmas!

N.x

Gobby

My earliest memory of eating habit disgust was at KEVICC, my secondary school in Devon. A slightly older boy, not dissimilar I thought to Bruce Bogtrotter from the film of Roald Dahl's Matilda, sat alone at a table - wet with a J cloth but with the inevitable stray baked bean descendant from his hoggy predecessor. 

But his haricot friend could offer no distraction from the apparent love of his life: a flaky pastry, slightly-too-greasy, probably not warm enough, verging on poisonous sausage roll. His mouth open, coated with soggy flakes, you could see his filthy tongue and the saliva in the back of his throat. He was a pig in shit - I was on the verge of a good vomit. 

My love of food is all powerful, all consuming. A bad day at the office can be resolved by cooking a particularly delicious batch of pad thai or baking a triumphant banana bread. But the risk of these culinary adventures is met by its matching with potential eaters. Yes, I want them to enjoy it, but within reason. Each cookery offering risks them spoiling my own enjoyment of it by shovelling wildly, mouth open, bits dripping and dropping on their chin and chest for all to see. 

But it's not just the mess that gets to me. In fact, despite my protestations, the mess isn't the half of it. I think I join a fairly decent percentage of the population who feel the same way about noisy eaters as the feeling of chewing on foil (the two of which actually meet in the winter, when soup becomes a lunchtime staple and teeth and spoon begin their courtship). Why god, why?! Clicking jaws, grinding teeth, saliva juices squelching. Listening to this is my Room 101. Alex Ferguson with your chewing gum, I mean YOU! Eating noises should be the subject of a film release for Halloween 2012. Open-mouthed crisp munchers (and come to think of it, closed-mouthed ones too) should be considered by 24 writers as an alternative form of torture by Jack Bauer on his latest terror suspect.

Even my own boyfriend can't escape the scrutiny. I regularly (yes, i know this is really bad) hold his mouth closed while he eats or just shout "GOB! SHUT!" at him with particularly venomous food tourettes. This might make me a bad girlfriend, but it's surely better than vomming in his face/throttling him/putting his face in it. It's for his own good. Right?

Can I blame my parents for this? I don't remember any particularly stringent table manners but when I look at and listen to other people's mouth habits I can't help wondering where all this has come from. I read Matilda a multitude of times when growing up - perhaps I should blame Roald Dahl. Perhaps I should blame sloppy school dinners. Perhaps I should blame the makers of Pringles.  Either way, please... just shut your mouth.

What I just ate...

A two-egg omelette with streaky bacon, leeks, cheese and tomato and LOTS of black pepper for a hearty lunch on a cold day? 
Don't mind if I do.

Gin and Tonic cake

My dear friend - fellow-Gaga-singalonger, ex-car sharer/gym buddy/sanity checker - Richard is a very (very) clever baker.

Too modest is he to apply for a place on The Great British Bake Off, at least he generously shares his talent with his friends.

On our (approximately) 427th drive together through sunny Bedminster, we had a eureka moment to turn our favourite drink into a cake. The result is tried, tested and tasty (try saying that after a few shots...err..slices.)

The recipe has finally been unveiled on his lovely blog, so go on, put some mother's ruin into your oven.

Secret Garden

My lasting memory of West Street in Bedminster, Bristol is - and always will be - when I got egged there back in August.

At least now I can say that there is one redeeming feature for this nasty end of town - and that emerald in the rough is the Thai Garden (complete with green facade and everything).

I've had a good time sampling various dishes on the menu and am always impressed with the quality of the product (king prawns are beautiful) and the delicate balance of spicing. The menu is simple but everything is freshly cooked. Their boiled rice is served in little wicker pods - steaming hot and perfectly portioned.

Having said that, the stand-out dishes so far are probably two which live either side of the main menu: the minced pork and prawn dumplings -  melt in your mouth divine (surf and turf with finesse), and banana pancakes - caramelised and comforting.

What's more, this is one of a few bring your own restaurants left in the city and with an offy next-door, you're sorted!

Cosy Cote

Wow - after my experience at Jamie's Italian last month, Cote, despite its exclusive Clifton postcode, could not have been more different.

The service was so friendly without being salesy - and the food was pretty top notch too. It might be a chain but Cote had all the warmth of a family run restaraunt, and the menu of a top quality chef (for the record I had the guinea fowl - yummers.)

Bon Appetit!

Bloatiful

Cooked these bad boy Chicken and Bean Enchiladas for the second time last night. They're easy peasy to make and really tasty but man do I feel like a bloater today. 

So, despite my recommendation, you stand warned - this recipe is definitely best for the Friday end-of-week slump rather than a start-of-working-week Monday night.

(the clue might be in the smallprint, err- serves 10!)

Waiter-go

OK, so I might write a food blog. I might eat lots of food. I might enough recipe books to cook for the Spanish Armada. But - when I go out to eat, I don't expect to be made to feel a, silly b, thick c, angry.

I had the pleasurable company of each of these feelings last night when I attempted to have a slightly special meal with my man to celebrate some amazing things he's achieved recently. (Really, he's amazing.)

Instead of 241-ing it (weekday eating out standard), I decided to go for a mid-range splash out and head to Jamie's Italian in Bristol. I've been to the Bristol and Cardiff branches once before. Both times we enjoyed a great atmosphere, friendly service and, above all, amazing food. Needless to say I had some fairly high expectations last night, but from previous experience rather than celebrity-chef endorsement.

Yesterday I went sustainable (go fish!) and chose sardines. I soon learned this was a big mistake. Perhaps stupidly of me, I assumed they might have attempted to fillet the buggers before they served them up to me. Instead I got three beautiful but whole bones-and-all sardines and spent the entire meal (here comes another list) a, fishing out bones b, choking on bones and c, spitting out half chewed mouthfuls. Nice.

Chivalrous as ever, my man insisted on a swap. I finished off his, frankly claggy, carbonara and he went ahead and smiled through his struggle with the sardines.

Disappointed and hunger unsatisfied (sardines were served with a bit of rocket - it was £9), I thought I'd mention something to the waiter. I am not a verbal complainer (I use twitter for that), but I mentioned that I didn't feel like I'd really had a meal because I'd spent the entire time a, fishing out bones b, choki... - well, you get it.

Role reversal time. Imagine I'm the waiter. Here's my response:
"Oh no, what a shame. Sounds like you haven't had the best of times with this meal. Unfortunately they are served whole but I know what a pain they are to de-bone. I'll feed back to the chef about the filleting. Did you enjoy the rest of your meal? Is there anything else I can do?"

Aah, what a nice waiter I am (inadvertently I also seem to have changed sex here - but go with it).

Instead I got:
(shrugs, grunts) "Yeah they come served whole".
(Walks off, chats to other staff who turn and stare at me)

And the moral to this story/play is - I won't be going back there for a while then. Bravo. 

Thought for the day...

"To summarise, we need to eat more vegetables and less flesh because vegetables are the foods that do us the most good and our planet the least harm."
From Hugh-Fearnley Whittingstall's piece, The joy of veg in The Guardian.

Sceptics may say he's just trying to promote another book, but whatever you think, it's an article which got me thinking (and triggered a fairly fiery debate with my boyfriend).
For me, the most frustrating thing here is that he's preaching to the converted. This article needs to be in a less liberal newspaper if it's going to have any impact. But then, why would they listen to a man with a double-barrelled surname?...

Like this? Visit the Meat-Free Monday campaign.

Roast dinner risotto

I have just stuffed my face with the best risotto I have ever cooked. 
This blog will  not be accompanied by a photo because a, it wasn't meant to be a culinary adventure and b, I ate it far too quickly to stop for a Kodak moment. This was, however, a definite advert for thrifty eating. I used surplus roast chicken from yesterday's dinner and plenty of ingredients that were just clogging up the fridge. 
It's good to share, so next time you've cooked a roast chicken - give this a try.


Natto's accidental roast chicken risotto
(Serves 2)
Ingredients
2 knobs of butter
1 tbsp olive oil
One small white onion, finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, crushed
2 cups of risotto rice (arborio is fine)
One glass of white wine
1 pint of chicken stock (I used Knorr powder)
5 button mushrooms, sliced
Zest of half a lemon
A few sprigs of thyme
2 portions of leftover roast chicken meat
4-5 spring onions, finely chopped
1/3 head of brocolli - use the smallest branches or cut into small pieces
4 runner beans, de-stringed and sliced
A cup of frozen peas
Salt and pepper
Grated cheese to serve (I used cheddar but if you have parmesan in the fridge it's probably a better choice)


Give it a go...
Heat one knob of butter and the olive oil in a large saucepan. Add the onions and cook slowly until they begin to soften, then add the garlic. Cook for about five minutes until it smells amazing. 
Add the rice and fry for about a minute, stirring into the onion and garlic mix. Add the wine and stir occasionally until it has been completely absorbed. 
Now start adding the stock, one ladle at a time, allowing the stock to be absorbed before adding the next. After you're about halfway through the stock, add the mushrooms, spring onions, lemon zest and the leaves from the thyme. 
Keep ladling the stock as before but now get the veg cooking. You can cook the brocolli, runner beans and peas in the same saucepan - they'll only need about 7-10 minutes. At this stage add the chicken and the second knob of butter to the risotto. 
By the time the veg is cooked, your stock should all be absorbed into the rice. Drain it thoroughly and gently combine with the risotto. 
Season with plenty of pepper and, if required, salt. Serve with grated cheese.


Hopefully I've not forgotten anything. I can't wait to roast another chicken so I can make this again!


Nx

My favourite cookbooks

#1 - My jotter 

Initially bought for taking to uni, ten years later it's rammed full of recipes on scrap bits of paper, splashed with fish sauce, melted butter and tomato puree.

This traditional exercise book, stolen from my sixth form college (sorry KEVICC) is a bible for favourites: my speciality lemon drizzle cake, cheat's pizza, bestest pad thai and the only spaghetti bolognese recipe I'll ever need. I should probably upgrade to a recipe binder but I'm really quite attached to 'natfish's recipes'.  

#2 - Good Housekeeping New Step-By-Step Cookbook

My sisters and I were each given a copy of this by our mum about five years ago. It's been in our family for much longer however, with an older version gracing her shelf for many years before.  It's the source of failsafes - Victoria sponge, Fish pie, lasagne... you name a classic recipe, there'll be something in there. It might not be haute cuisine, but it's pretty indispensible to my collection.



#3 - Cook Yourself Thin

I kid you not. This is a great little book. And where did this series disappear off to anyway? The closest I can get is following Gizzi on twitter. This has some great ideas for saving on calories without losing the flavour (no, i don't work for them). Plus, it taught me how to cook really nice fluffy fragrant rice.



#4 - The Cranks Recipe Book

I've told you my Cranks love story before. It's absolutely stunning food which has left a lasting impression on me. Don't be scared off by the vegetarian subtext. It's wholesome, warming food and for me, it smells like home. Get a copy for the homity pies, cheese scones, soups and fruit cakes. Delicious.

Posset-ively delicious

Lemon posset and me, me and lemon posset. It's a big joke now. 

Apparently my reaction to the dessert when it was served to me in Hotel Du Vin, Bristol a couple of years ago was to rival Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally. 

Last night I went to dinner with friends and decided to inject some joy into the evening and make them a posset. God bless Google and James Martin. I found the simplest recipe which, together with some skinny shortbreads, brought out the inner Meg Ryan in all four of us. 

Easy peasy, lemon squeezy (literally), here it is.

600ml double cream

140g caster sugar

Juice and zest of 2 unwaxed lemons

Slowly boil up all the cream and sugar in a large pan. Leave to simmer for a few minutes. Remove from the heat and whisk in the lemon juice and zest. Pour into 4 (very generous portions, you'll look less like Meg Ryan, more like Billy Crystal by the end of it) to 6 (recommended if you need to move any time soon after dinner) ramekins, cups or posh glasses. Pop in the fridge for at least two hours. Grate a little lemon zest on the top and serve with shortbread thins (I used Marks and Spencers'). 

I can't use the O word here, I just can't bring myself to. But you know what I mean. They're really, really good.

A cuisineless country

After a long break I've wondered what to return with. Something to do with absence seemed apt. So I'm writing in response to my gut feelings (get it?) following a recent trip to Croatia.

I definitely take for granted the variation and exoticism of foreign cuisines. I've become obsessed with Greek food, fallen in love with Thai flavours, and love playing with global ingredients. Holidaying for me is as much about the food as it is about the place. So when I spent a week in Croatia I experienced an odd feeling - they don't have a unique cuisine.

Croatian restaraunts are largely a mix of italian food (pizza, pasta and risotto as standard), fresh fish options and they serve chips with pretty much everything. The food I experienced was almost always oversalted - a poor substitute for that truly unique flavour I was hoping for. When I tried to experience something new and tried shark steak I found I was also eating about a bathtub of salt -it made for an uncomfortable night's digestion.

So clearly, my expectation is to experience a taste sensation in every new place I travel. Be it the fresh feta in Lefkas, or the enormous pancakes in America. But where does this expectation even stem from when we don't have a cuisine ourselves?

British cuisine is just meat and potatoes. Discuss.

Our pubs are also lined with stolen cuisine. "I really fancy some classic pub grub" generally means Lasagne, spag bol (meat and, the refreshingly different alternative to potatoes, pasta) or a version of our own great British classic (meat and potatoes) Shepherd's Pie, roast dinner, steak and kidney pie, bangers and mash, fish and chips or a big breakfast (and no Hilton Hotel, there's nothing continental about hash browns). 

But it's not all bad in Britain. What sets British food apart to me is down to a combination of things.

Our ability to borrow ideas is pretty good. Jamie Oliver being a great example of someone who has mastered world cuisine for the masses, giving enough inspiration to our untrained cuisineless minds to go out and experiment, just enough. 

I'd also say we're leading the way in changing attitudes to food, with TV chefs talking more and more about where their food is being sourced as much as the end result. Sourced in Britain, cooked using Indian spices - works for me.

But finally, I've found the thing we do really well. Baking. Cream teas, Victoria sponges (including the jam), iced buns, flapjacks, millionaire's shortbread, butterfly cakes - thank you WI!

So, perhaps we naturally choose one direction or the other. Sweet or savoury. With us lucky Brits able to access so many global foods locally, I guess we can't really complain.

But what about Croatia? Who fail on a, savoury at least, cuisine. What's their pièce de résistance?
I give you - Ice cream...

 

Happy vegetarian week!

A wannabe conscientious omnivore, one day maybe even a pescatarian, I may be - but I too struggle with the concept of one day completely eradicating the salty pig from my diet. Today's Jay Rayner article merely in it's conversational roundabout makes it clear that even scary health statistics can't make us give up the red stuff. My solution? What i've advocated for a while now - just cutting down.

So, my contribution to National Vegetarian Week is to say, jump on the Meat Free Monday bandwagon - and, of course on the other days, check the label for happy pigs.

Place your bets

Just checking in quickly as the big day for Masterchef 2011 is now here.

Well, my heart hopes that Professor Tim takes this year's title. As an inferior series in many ways, when compared with the high emotions of Dhruv, Tim and Alex in 2010, Tim has brought a well needed dose of excitement (and liquid nitrogen) to this series and fully deserves the trophy.

Right, and with that, i'm off to make a cheese, ham and pumpkin croque monsieur. (Will write more soon, promise).

N.x

Progress

Some very wise words from Huge Furry on the exciting changes being proposed regarding discards.

Play with your food

I can't pretend to know anything about parenting, but from my own experience of growing up cooking alongside my own, I can't help but think that the earlier we take an interest, the more chance we have of enjoying a tastier, varied and more natural diet. Eating processed meals take away so much of our ability to make food choices, e.g. if you saw two tablespoons of salt going into your food, would you eat it? 

My 18 month old niece abbie has made good headway already with baby-led weaning, and now, helping out my sister with the baking! 

And yes, rice krispie cakes can be part of that aforementioned balanced, varied diet...!

Nx

Soup: in sickness and in health

I'm poorly. Have been for a few days now. Being poorly is rubbish unless you're young and accompanied by a paying adult, because there's no one to look after you. 

When I was young and off school, I got endless amounts of sympathy from my mum. She bought me the best tissues, the best baker's loaves and, invariably, a Terry's Chocolate Orange. One winter when I had been struck down with something particularly crappy, she even bought me the Muppet Christmas Carol. But for me, being ill is saved by one culinary wonder - and that's soup.

Sometimes mum would cheat and go for the Heinz Chicken Soup (it really is their best offering - though sadly doesn't align with my ethical efforts in the present day), but most of the time I was treated to her experimentation with Cranks recipes - her favourite school of cooking thought of the time, and what a school it is.

Being ill nowadays, I'm either at home alone in a shared house or at home with housemates in a shared house. Neither of these really lend themselves to relying on others to look after me. Adapted from the Cranks recipe, Tomato and Lentil soup is the cheapest, easiest, most adaptable recipe to make with half a brain using store cupboard essentials - so you won't even need to leave the house.

Cheat's Tomato and Lentil soup

Roughly chop an onion and gently fry it in olive oil in a large saucepan; add a large handful of red lentils and stir through for a minute or so; stir in a tin of tomatoes - if you've got any fresh ones chop them up too; make up a pint of vegetable stock and throw it in the pan with a generous teaspoon of marmite; season with herbs, salt and pepper, cover and simmer for about 20-25 minutes, stirring occasionally. Throw it all in a blender, blitz it up and serve with grated cheese and a nice chunk of bread. 

It's hearty, warming, healthy and perfect for a cold but the best bit, you barely even have to be awake to do it. 

Keep warm. Nx

Conscientious omnivorism - the journey

It’s been a big couple of weeks for animal welfare. Hugh’s been doing fantastic things with the fish fight campaign. It’s struck an amazing chord with the public with over half a million people having now signed the petition to the discard problem. What’s more, the shows have provided a balance in crazy, cruel fishing methods while offering an education in a sustainable alternative. I have a can of tuna in my cupboard and having seen the show, I revisited the label. Dolphin friendly? Apparently so. Line caught? No. There lies the dilemma, oxymoron even. Without the guarantee of an individually caught tuna, Greenpeace exposed horrifying footage of dolphins, sharks, mantaray and turtles being caught up in Ghanaian nets sourcing Tesco, among other suppliers. So, dolphin friendly? No, not even a little bit. In contrast, it was a good night for Sainsbury’s.

On Tuesday I was lucky enough to get a ticket for a sold out Festival of Ideas event in Bristol. Funnily enough, the previous event I attended by the same organisers was with Hugh FW.

Jonathan Safran Foer, most well known for his debut novel Everything is Illuminated, spoke on the approach to the release of his new non-fiction book, Eating Animals. He admitted this veer into non-fiction was accidental, but inevitable following the details he had discovered about factory farms and farmed animals’ welfare. Articulate, passionate, funny and devoted are just some of the ways I’d describe JSF, but, refreshingly, at no point did I feel he was preaching. Instead, he laid out his argument like a hand he’d been dealt, the knowledge he now had could not be un-known.

During his talk, he spoke of his friends who strived to be conscientious omnivores. I too, fall into this group – including the ‘striving’ part. The easy part is being in control of what you put on your own plate. Buy free range, outdoor reared, non-imported meat and to keep monetary (and environmental) costs down, appreciate foods other than meat a few times a week. The problem falls when you go out to eat, when your friends or family cook for you, or when you buy a sandwich on the go. To truly call yourself a conscientious omnivore, is to avoid meat altogether in these situations – to go meat-free and therefore bad meat-free. He relayed his friends’ struggle with this situation which mirror my own. It’s now harder to be a conscientious omnivore in a restaurant than it is to be a vegetarian. So is it a labelling problem? Is it a government problem? Is it a personal problem? Either way, Jonathan’s tour of America and now the UK, with his book backs up his notion that talking about the problem makes it real, and makes us confront the industry we are buying into, in its billions, every single day.

Finally, just today I found a great blog on the Guardian by Jenna Woginrich, who went back to eating meat from the ‘apathy’ of being a vegetarianism. “Your fork is your ballot, and when you vote to eat a steak or leg of lamb purchased from a small farmer you are showing the industrial system you are actively opting out.” I hope soon to call myself an entirely conscientious omnivore – without hurting anyone’s feelings in the process.

Fondant films

Check out Total Film's feature on Disturbing Movie Cakes!

Tagine dream

I love a good tagine. It was my friend Nicky who taught me that you don't necessarily need an upside-down funnel concoction to create the perfect tagine when she put together a chicken and olive feast (i believe it was adapted from this Hairy Bikers recipe) for me a couple of years ago. By her own admission, this is the one dish which proves to her that sweet and savoury can work well together (coming from the girl who insists that cranberry sauce with turkey is like having jam with your beef). 

But my ultimate tagine experience (so far) was during a lamb-themed evening (yes, you heard right) with my best bud Amy. She'd thrown all her efforts into an incredible tomato-based lamb recipe by Anthony Worrall Thompson, which simmered for hours in a huge stockpot. Now when I say lamb-themed evening, I'm clutching at straws. Having had a highly anticipated gig cancelled last minute, our plans changed and Amy was dead set on a night in drowning our sorrows watching Silence of the Lambs with copious amounts of red wine (unfortunately not Chianti on this occasion). 

The tagine to end all tagines tied together this so called lamb theme... Packed with gorgeous lean lamb steaks, apricots, dates, raisins, flaked almonds and perfectly combined spices, topped off with flat leaf parsley and coriander, and served with minted yoghurt and lemon cous cous, this feast might even interest Hannibal the Cannibal's mouth (it was in a red sauce after all). 

Since I've been embarrassing Amy with tales of her cheffing prowess, she handed over the gauntlet to me this Christmas in the form of a huge shiny stockpot. So, last night, I took on the challenge and made my own... in the words of the late turkey monster Bernard Matthews, it was booootiful. Thanks Amy, you big chef you.