It's November 30th and I've posted every day for an entire month. There have been new recipes, old favourites, and the odd (to be perfectly honest) nonsense post just designed to stop me failing.
I have enjoyed focusing on NaBloPoMo and will absolutely do it next year but I'm not yet insane enough to post every day of every month of every year as, frankly, there have been times when there just isn't enough time in the day.
I had been planning a final celebration for crossing the finish line. Something to do with nice food and bubbles, a fitting end for a month when I have increased my total post count to over 100 (hooray). But life rarely works out the way we plan it.
Last night we had the delicious Turkish food which made me both very full and very very sleepy, then this morning I woke up to rain and a cold and a sore throat. Still in entertainment mode, however, we shivered our way to the bus stop to go and drop my sister's bag at Waterloo before taking her to Wagamama's for some noodles. All went swimmingly until I gulped some green tea and had to spit it back into the cup as it was scaldingly hot. Now I had a badly burned tongue, a cold, a sore throat, and, to top it all off, had lost my appetite.
All that to say I am now back at home, on the sofa, about to watch some suitably inane TV and will eventually make some soup.
I'll leave you now and will be back very soon, maybe not tomorrow, but very soon with plans for bread, Christmas pudding, Christmas cake...
Sunday, 30 November 2008
Saturday, 29 November 2008
THE DOVER CASTLE
Gosh it's cold.
Today I made the grave error of leaving the house in not very thick tights and ballet pumps. My hat shod head was toasty, my sheepskin mittened hands were lovely and warm, but my legs and feet were abso-bloody-lutely freezing.
We eventually found ourselves sitting in a quiet pub beside a fire basking in peace and quiet away from the Christmas shopping hordes. So, if you're ever on Oxford Street and need an escape (so that would be every time you're on Oxford Street) take yourself off to a few streets back and find yourself a seat here for a well priced pint and a touch of sanity.
And now that I've wrapped myself up in more sensible Winter layers we're off for some chargrilled lamb in one of Stoke Newington's many good Turkish restaurants, this one to be exact.
Today I made the grave error of leaving the house in not very thick tights and ballet pumps. My hat shod head was toasty, my sheepskin mittened hands were lovely and warm, but my legs and feet were abso-bloody-lutely freezing.
We eventually found ourselves sitting in a quiet pub beside a fire basking in peace and quiet away from the Christmas shopping hordes. So, if you're ever on Oxford Street and need an escape (so that would be every time you're on Oxford Street) take yourself off to a few streets back and find yourself a seat here for a well priced pint and a touch of sanity.
And now that I've wrapped myself up in more sensible Winter layers we're off for some chargrilled lamb in one of Stoke Newington's many good Turkish restaurants, this one to be exact.
Friday, 28 November 2008
CAN'T FAIL NOW...
It's the 28th of November, so close to finishing NaBloPoMo but it's quite hard to type...
My sister is staying for the weekend, we had lunch at the National Gallery, went Christmas shopping in Hamley's (hell), got the bus home, and then, well, we drank four glasses of red. Now it's a bit too fuzzy to type so I'm going to eat pittas and dips and maybe, oops, drink another glass of wine (or two).
See you all soon when the computer screen is a little less blurry.
My sister is staying for the weekend, we had lunch at the National Gallery, went Christmas shopping in Hamley's (hell), got the bus home, and then, well, we drank four glasses of red. Now it's a bit too fuzzy to type so I'm going to eat pittas and dips and maybe, oops, drink another glass of wine (or two).
See you all soon when the computer screen is a little less blurry.
Thursday, 27 November 2008
YUCK, SPROUTS...
I would love to tell you that I was traumatised by mushy Brussels sprouts as a child.
I would love to jump on the ‘I grew up being forcefed watery stinky sprouts’ bandwagon.
I would love to wax lyrical about my conversion to the religion of the sprout.
But I can’t as it simply isn’t true.
Well the final conversion to the church of sprout lovers is true but the whole truth is this…
My Mum doesn’t mind sprouts but neither does she like them enough to try to force feed them to us. The same goes for cabbage. Over the past few years boiled sprouts have appeared on the table at Christmas to appease other people who insisted that sprouts were as much of a Christmas necessity as leaving a mince pie out for Father Christmas but most of us (me and my sister) would just act as if they weren’t there.
I had dismissed them as soggy, smelly, and stupid to prepare with their silly little crosses in the bottom. Chris tried to tell me that in his house sprouts were different but I may as well have been holding my hands over my ears and singing ‘I can’t hear you’ at the top of my voice for all the notice I took.
Then, last year, I made this pasta and, oh, it was good.
Then, at Christmas, I bought one of those pretty sprout trees (branches?) and gave the sprouts the briefest of boilings so they were a vibrant green and still slightly crunchy alongside the roast and, yes, still good.
So, I am now an enthusiastic sprout eater to the point where, last night, I cooked some sausages and to go with them melted a little butter in a frying pan, added some pine nuts to brown, then piled in lots of halved sprouts along with some salt and pepper and a little olive oil. I cooked them until they were just softening but still with a definite crunch. We ate up every one.
I would love to jump on the ‘I grew up being forcefed watery stinky sprouts’ bandwagon.
I would love to wax lyrical about my conversion to the religion of the sprout.
But I can’t as it simply isn’t true.
Well the final conversion to the church of sprout lovers is true but the whole truth is this…
My Mum doesn’t mind sprouts but neither does she like them enough to try to force feed them to us. The same goes for cabbage. Over the past few years boiled sprouts have appeared on the table at Christmas to appease other people who insisted that sprouts were as much of a Christmas necessity as leaving a mince pie out for Father Christmas but most of us (me and my sister) would just act as if they weren’t there.
I had dismissed them as soggy, smelly, and stupid to prepare with their silly little crosses in the bottom. Chris tried to tell me that in his house sprouts were different but I may as well have been holding my hands over my ears and singing ‘I can’t hear you’ at the top of my voice for all the notice I took.
Then, last year, I made this pasta and, oh, it was good.
Then, at Christmas, I bought one of those pretty sprout trees (branches?) and gave the sprouts the briefest of boilings so they were a vibrant green and still slightly crunchy alongside the roast and, yes, still good.
So, I am now an enthusiastic sprout eater to the point where, last night, I cooked some sausages and to go with them melted a little butter in a frying pan, added some pine nuts to brown, then piled in lots of halved sprouts along with some salt and pepper and a little olive oil. I cooked them until they were just softening but still with a definite crunch. We ate up every one.
Wednesday, 26 November 2008
BLACK AND WHITE BANANA BREAD
Last night, to continue the using up frozen bananas theme (yes, I have decided that there are enough bananas lurking to warrant a theme), I decided to finally get around to baking something from Baking: From My Home to Yours. There are so many things that I have wanted to bake from this that it is almost overwhelming. I have mentally bookmarked the rugelach, various bundt cakes, layer cakes, cookies, and well really it would be easier to list the things I don’t want to make.
So, an easy starting point when there is so much choice and I have bananas to use is banana bread. You can't ever go too far wrong if you start with banana bread, I'm sure it would work for lots of different situations, if only to cheer you up.
The banana bread of choice was a black and white banana loaf with some rum added to the bananas, melted dark chocolate, vanilla, and the fun of making my first ever marbled cake. So many questions. How much to dollop in alternate blobs to ensure a good swirly mix. How much to drag a knife through to marble rather than mix. How the slightly heavier chocolate batter doesn’t all sink to the bottom. But ultimately how pretty it looks when you cut that first slice.
The great banana quest continues, and so far, I have used up the grand total of four bananas. Oh dear dear dear, does anyone have a recipe that requires the use of more than 10 overripe bananas?
So, an easy starting point when there is so much choice and I have bananas to use is banana bread. You can't ever go too far wrong if you start with banana bread, I'm sure it would work for lots of different situations, if only to cheer you up.
The banana bread of choice was a black and white banana loaf with some rum added to the bananas, melted dark chocolate, vanilla, and the fun of making my first ever marbled cake. So many questions. How much to dollop in alternate blobs to ensure a good swirly mix. How much to drag a knife through to marble rather than mix. How the slightly heavier chocolate batter doesn’t all sink to the bottom. But ultimately how pretty it looks when you cut that first slice.
The great banana quest continues, and so far, I have used up the grand total of four bananas. Oh dear dear dear, does anyone have a recipe that requires the use of more than 10 overripe bananas?
Tuesday, 25 November 2008
JERK CHICKEN, RICE AND PEAS (SORT OF)
Having eaten jerk chicken once I am hardly an expert in what it should taste like. I figured I should get this disclaimer out of the way and add a (sort of) to the post title so there is no mistaking this post for any kind of jerk chicken authoritative knowledge.
Oh, and while I'm adding disclaimers, I know that rice and peas does not mean rice and English garden peas from the freezer but it's what I wanted and I like peas a lot more than beans and I think we have already agreed that this post is not starting from any sort of well researched knowledgeable base so I think we can let the peas go by unnoticed?
And, oh again, I've just remembered another one (the last I promise) the rice is basmati. I like it the best and it's what I keep in the house.
Right, now all that is out of the way here is a bit of background. Today all I knew was that I wanted to eat rice. That's not true, I knew other stuff today (thankfully) but the only thing I knew in relation to tonight's dinner was that rice was the way to go. Unfortunately my inspiration ended there and as I was trying to decide what to buy on my way home I trawled through a few recipe sections on my favourite blogs to see if anything jumped out. I kept pausing on promising looking recipes and then passing by for one reason or another, mostly just that they would take too long to cook, but then I paused, I read, and I found this on Gluten-Free Girl.
I read and I wrote down the ingredients and I substituted a few for things I already had and I came up with something that I am thinking of as jerk(ish) chicken.
JERK(ISH) CHICKEN
Serves two
2 chicken breasts, boneless with skin on
2 garlic cloves, minced
1/4 teaspoon of cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon of paprika
1/2 teaspoon of ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon of ground allspice
1/2 teaspoon of ground ginger
1 1/2 teaspoons of sea salt
A generous grinding of black pepper
2 teaspoons of dried thyme
2 teaspoons of light brown sugar
1 teaspoon of honey
1 tablespoon of oil (or enough to make a thick paste)
Put the chicken breasts on a board and flatten them using a rolling pan so they are an even(ish) thickness. Mix everything (except the chicken) in a bowl and coat the chicken with the mixture. Heat a large frying pan over a medium high heat and place the chicken in the pan skin down, turn the chicken over after a few minutes. Cook for 10-15 minutes, depending on the thickness of your chicken, until it is cooked through. Serve with rice and peas.
Oh, and while I'm adding disclaimers, I know that rice and peas does not mean rice and English garden peas from the freezer but it's what I wanted and I like peas a lot more than beans and I think we have already agreed that this post is not starting from any sort of well researched knowledgeable base so I think we can let the peas go by unnoticed?
And, oh again, I've just remembered another one (the last I promise) the rice is basmati. I like it the best and it's what I keep in the house.
Right, now all that is out of the way here is a bit of background. Today all I knew was that I wanted to eat rice. That's not true, I knew other stuff today (thankfully) but the only thing I knew in relation to tonight's dinner was that rice was the way to go. Unfortunately my inspiration ended there and as I was trying to decide what to buy on my way home I trawled through a few recipe sections on my favourite blogs to see if anything jumped out. I kept pausing on promising looking recipes and then passing by for one reason or another, mostly just that they would take too long to cook, but then I paused, I read, and I found this on Gluten-Free Girl.
I read and I wrote down the ingredients and I substituted a few for things I already had and I came up with something that I am thinking of as jerk(ish) chicken.
JERK(ISH) CHICKEN
Serves two
2 chicken breasts, boneless with skin on
2 garlic cloves, minced
1/4 teaspoon of cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon of paprika
1/2 teaspoon of ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon of ground allspice
1/2 teaspoon of ground ginger
1 1/2 teaspoons of sea salt
A generous grinding of black pepper
2 teaspoons of dried thyme
2 teaspoons of light brown sugar
1 teaspoon of honey
1 tablespoon of oil (or enough to make a thick paste)
Put the chicken breasts on a board and flatten them using a rolling pan so they are an even(ish) thickness. Mix everything (except the chicken) in a bowl and coat the chicken with the mixture. Heat a large frying pan over a medium high heat and place the chicken in the pan skin down, turn the chicken over after a few minutes. Cook for 10-15 minutes, depending on the thickness of your chicken, until it is cooked through. Serve with rice and peas.
Monday, 24 November 2008
LEEK, BACON AND GRUYERE TART
Following last week’s pasta I have been tasting those leeks again every time I think about them. Trust me this is a good thing. So, somehow, while reading a cookery book over breakfast this morning (Sophie Conran) I decided that this Monday night would be leek tart night.
Deciding what I want to make and working out how to make it happen is still relatively new territory for me. I have spent too long not trusting my food instincts and thinking that straying off the beaten (recipe written in a book or magazine) path will leave me with food welded to dishes, looks of disappointment all round, and a dash for the takeaway menus. Thankfully I have decided to abandon these wimpy ways.
On a side note I have been quite well known for wimpishness over the years. I was accused of it at school for not wanting to wiggle my bum in the middle of the playground (would anybody out there honestly go back to their school years?), by my Mum for screaming in terror at her reckless steering of a sledge in the Swiss Alps, and for generally just shying away from anything where the outcome could involve pain (apart from wearing high heels, although that’s better since discovering the tip of putting ibuprofen gel on the balls of your feet).
So back to the abandonment of recipe wimpishness and leek tart, it was good by the way...
LEEK, BACON AND GRUYERE TART
Serves 2-4 depending on appetite (in case you were wondering tonight it served 2)
3 large leeks
50g of unsalted butter
Small pile of thyme leaves
2 tablespoons of cold water
6 rashers of smoked streaky bacon (optional, I just had some to use up)
About 50g of grated gruyere (I didn't weigh it and just grated enough to scatter over the top of the leeks and bacon, 50g is an educated guess)
250g of puff pastry
Salt and black pepper
Slice the white and light green part of the leeks in half along their lengths and then chop into rough 1/2 cm pieces. Melt the butter in a large heavy based pan over a medium heat, add the leeks and thyme and stir to coat in the butter, then add the water. Lower the heat and cover the pan. Leave this to cook over a low heat for about 20 minutes before removing the lid and leaving some of the excess water to evaporate.
While the leeks are cooking preheat the oven to 200˚C and place a baking tray on a middle shelf to heat up.
Chop the bacon and fry until cooked and slightly crisped. Roll the pastry out on baking parchment into a rough rectangle and score a border about 1 cm from the edge.
When the leeks have finished cooking spread them into the centre of the pastry and add the bacon and gruyere along with a sprinkling of salt and pepper. Brush the pastry border with some of the buttery juices left in the pan that the leeks were cooked in.
Put the tart (including baking parchment) onto the preheated baking tray and bake for around 15 - 20 minutes or until the pastry is puffed and golden.
Serve with a green salad.
Deciding what I want to make and working out how to make it happen is still relatively new territory for me. I have spent too long not trusting my food instincts and thinking that straying off the beaten (recipe written in a book or magazine) path will leave me with food welded to dishes, looks of disappointment all round, and a dash for the takeaway menus. Thankfully I have decided to abandon these wimpy ways.
On a side note I have been quite well known for wimpishness over the years. I was accused of it at school for not wanting to wiggle my bum in the middle of the playground (would anybody out there honestly go back to their school years?), by my Mum for screaming in terror at her reckless steering of a sledge in the Swiss Alps, and for generally just shying away from anything where the outcome could involve pain (apart from wearing high heels, although that’s better since discovering the tip of putting ibuprofen gel on the balls of your feet).
So back to the abandonment of recipe wimpishness and leek tart, it was good by the way...
LEEK, BACON AND GRUYERE TART
Serves 2-4 depending on appetite (in case you were wondering tonight it served 2)
3 large leeks
50g of unsalted butter
Small pile of thyme leaves
2 tablespoons of cold water
6 rashers of smoked streaky bacon (optional, I just had some to use up)
About 50g of grated gruyere (I didn't weigh it and just grated enough to scatter over the top of the leeks and bacon, 50g is an educated guess)
250g of puff pastry
Salt and black pepper
Slice the white and light green part of the leeks in half along their lengths and then chop into rough 1/2 cm pieces. Melt the butter in a large heavy based pan over a medium heat, add the leeks and thyme and stir to coat in the butter, then add the water. Lower the heat and cover the pan. Leave this to cook over a low heat for about 20 minutes before removing the lid and leaving some of the excess water to evaporate.
While the leeks are cooking preheat the oven to 200˚C and place a baking tray on a middle shelf to heat up.
Chop the bacon and fry until cooked and slightly crisped. Roll the pastry out on baking parchment into a rough rectangle and score a border about 1 cm from the edge.
When the leeks have finished cooking spread them into the centre of the pastry and add the bacon and gruyere along with a sprinkling of salt and pepper. Brush the pastry border with some of the buttery juices left in the pan that the leeks were cooked in.
Put the tart (including baking parchment) onto the preheated baking tray and bake for around 15 - 20 minutes or until the pastry is puffed and golden.
Serve with a green salad.
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