Bank holiday yumminess

Well here we are at the end of May already, the days are still lengthening and the bank holiday turned out to be lovely and warm on the whole.  Having been limply laid low with cold and cough during the week I was glad to get my tastebuds back in time for some groovy outdoor moments.  We had a very tasty supper involving some fresh morels, about which I shall wax lyrical briefly.  They are a wondrous thing and if you are a person who thinks of the mushroom season as only being one of damp and musty autumnalness then remember that morels are around only at this time of year and should therefore be celebrated if possible!  They're not cheap at around £35 p/kg but you only need a very few to make a meal special and they are in season for such a short time you can't really overspend on them - much ... anyway I was fortunate enough to be bumbling about my favourite Borough Market taking pictures and snaffled a few as they were being packed away.

Divine little frilly, earthy sponges, they soak up flavours and juices like anything.  They were sauteed in butter with chopped shallots and garlic then simmered with brandy, stock and cream.  Some fresh tarragon and parsley was stirred in towards the end and they were delicious settled unctuously atop some crisp griddled toast, with roasted asparagus, some Italian ham and an egg on the side - this would also be a delicious brunch dish.  So go make magic with morels while you can!  Clean and dry them as best you can first but don't worry about a bit of stray earth - their honeycombed surface makes this a little tricky - and remember that they do need to be cooked through, as unlike some other edible mushrooms they are poisonous when raw.  

On Sunday we fancied a Stateside brunch in the garden so we made proper American blueberry pancakes and served them with crispy strips of salty, smoky, grilled bacon and more blueberries and strawberries plus generous ribbons of maple syrup.  I like using buttermilk instead of ordinary milk and self-raising flour, they seem to be lighter and tastier somehow. Add a pinch of cinnamon and some grated orange or lemon zest and they go into yet another league. There's something so perfect about the salt/sweet combination here, with the juicy fruit and syrup, the bacon and the warm soft pancakes with crispy edges that makes each mouthful so darned moreish. Our eggs have extra huge orange yolks at the moment hence the colour of the pancakes are sunshine yellow here in the photo. Later on we lazed about in the shady bits of the garden with a refreshing glass of Pimms - the first of the season to go with with the rest of our first punnet of British strawbs, which were really juicy ones from Downingbury Farm in Pembury.  

On Monday the weather turned stormy on and off so our barbecue was a bit hit and miss - we struggled on though!  Ingredients-wise we decided to go all Greek for a change.  Shop-bought taramsalata, home-made hummus and kalamata olives to nibble on while we cooked.   Organic lamb mince with chopped red onion, oregano, garlic, ground cumin and coriander, fresh rosemary, mint, some lemon zest and lots of seasoning made little kofta patties to serve with home-made tztatziki, pitta bread and a fresh Greek salad.  Beautiful freshly-podded broad beans just shelled and mixed with wild garlic pesto, olives and feta cheese made a good side dish and roasted peppers in the lamb and pitta sandwich were a lovely sweet and smoky accompaniment.  Couldn't find any Retsina in the local offy which was a shame as I love it with Greek food, but a chilled, dry rose slipped down very well.  Good job there's no Ouzo in the house is all I can say or a few plates might have been smashed - mind you I seem to do a good job of smashing plates by accident at the mo!

Happy cooking!

AMT

    

Homage to the Egg

Last night we whisked the last 5 eggs we had left and tipped them happily into a frying pan sizzling with onion, bacon, roasted peppers and sliced potato where they settled into the gaps and fluffed up into a yummy tortilla. We sprinkled herbs from the garden, paprika and mature cheddar on the top, flashed it under a hot grill for a few minutes then cut it into wedges and enjoyed it with some freshly-picked salad leaves. It was one of those meals that makes you feel terribly smug cos you haven't had to go out and buy anything for it and boy was it tasty.  This kind of dish is perfect cold or at room temperature too and it's a very popular dish in Spanish tapas bars.  The Italian version is called frittata - either way it's delicious.  But little did we know that this feast of rural egginess might have been the last one we had of its kind .....

Fast-forward to 10.30pm. After guffawing and cringeing in equal measure to an episode of Fawlty Towers ("the Psychiatrist" in case you wanted to know) we snuggled down and soon husband was snoring lustily and I was stuffing in the orange foam earplugs to drown out the manly rumbles ...when out on the lawn there arose such a clatter I sprung from my bed to see what was the matter (thank you Clement Clark Moore).... actually, it was husband who leapt out of bed like a coiled spring whilst I fell out of bed unceremoniously and disorientatedly whilst trying to extract the plugs - they had gone in a bit too far - and wondered what the heck was going on at 2.30am. The window was flung open and soon it became clear that the thing we most dreaded happening was taking place on the patio. This was no Saint Nick and Eight Tiny Reindeer prancing sweetly in our garden, but our chicks being attacked in their beds by an unidentified and evil Creature ... We rushed downstairs in our T-shirts and pants, our beloved Colin and Dave squawking and flapping in terror amidst the sounds of wood being scratched and pummelled by the Predator. It disappeared over the fence as soon as we opened the back door - luckily from the catty squealing noises heard amongst the chaos it seemed not to be a fox unless it had problems with its vocal cords. Garden lights went on and we could see that a break-in of major proportions had happened. The circular airhole (about 2-3 inches across) in the end hatch of the ark had been used shamelessly as an access point for a paw which had gone in, levered a horizontal plank of wood right off the door and thereby created plenty of room to get the whole arm in, the claws out and so attack the innocently dozing chicks inside.  They were cowering at the back clucking frantically when we arrived and there were feathers everywhere - the damage had been done. It was awful seeing those feathers and hearing the distressing cries for help from our little Adorables. We plucked them out of their nests in some trepidation, checked them over  - no blood thank goodness and surprisingly no visible bald bits considering the volume of debris outside on the patio. Other clumps of feathers were found on the grass showing the exit route of the Creature to the fence.

After a quick cuddle the chicks zigzagged woefully towards the house in the dim light and perched wearily under the laurel tree together looking up at me for reassurance while husband raided the shed for tools, spare bits of wood and wire. I chatted to the victims while he fixed the broken door and put strengthening batons over the door and a bit of old fireguard mesh over the breathing hole so nothing like this could happen again. It wasn't long before Dave dozed off in the corner, chirruping in her sleep - interestingly the smaller of the two, Colin, stayed watching guard with me on the deck, quite alert despite the dim light and she burbled all the while to Dave who answered her dreamily. Eventually it was time to gather them up and bundle them back to bed - Dave fell asleep again halfway through the door and we had to prise her foot off the doorframe to get her in but they were all safe and sound in the new Fort Chix.

Phew! Could have done without that. By the time we crawled back into bed it was 3.30am and it took a while for the adrenalin to subside. This morning the chicks appeared to have forgotten all about their traumatic ordeal - one good side-effect of having such a tiny brain seems to be that one can't remember to harbour grudges - and have been as happy as anything running around the garden with no discernible limps or lasting damage. But they're getting extra sweetcorn and kale from me today as a treat for being such brave little soldiers... and they both laid huge eggs this morning, the shells strong and smooth with no crinkly bits at all - we had heard that often after a shock the eggs can emerge very misshapen.

So this post is dedicated to the humble egg and its amazing origins. They are so nutritious and versatile and if you get eggs from happy hens (or ducks, quails, geese or ostriches!), super-tasty and colourful. Apart from omelettes and the breakfast/brunch side of things they are a vital part of so many dishes from around the world. Without them there would be no mayonnaise, hollandaise or meringues, nor a decent cake. Macaroons wouldn't exist, nor biscotti and that would make sitting in an Italian cafe so much less fun.  There would be no custard or decent ice-cream, no mousses or zabaglione, no cheesecake, creme brulee or bread and butter pudding. Not to mention an absence of pancakes or Yorkshire pudding, aagh! The world would be a sorrier place without eggs therein, let's face it.  

Egg-fried rice makes a great meal in itself with a few tasty additions - fry a chopped onion and some garlic in a hot wok with a little Chinese Five Spice powder, throw in a handful of frozen peas and maybe a few prawns. Add 150g cooked basmati rice and a couple of lightly whisked eggs and you have a wonderful bowl of Oriental yumminess. Or split it between two of you as an accompaniment to stirfried chicken and vegetables - just marinate a couple of chopped chicken breasts in soy sauce, honey, ginger, garlic, orange zest and chilli for an hour or so in the fridge, fry quickly over a high heat with some onion in a teaspoon of sesame oil, add a small bag of stirfry veg and toss it all about for a few minutes. Serve with the salty, sticky, spicy sauce soaking into the rice. Sprinkle with toasted sesame seeds for extra crunch if you like.  Tasty, easy, quick and nutritious - and pretty economical too.  

You'll never starve if you have a few eggs in the house ...

Happy cooking!

AMT

Retro recollections

Those of us born in 1965, like me, will remember the '70s and all that this era had to offer in terms of gastronomy, making home entertaining seem so glamorous.   Pretty gruesome, some of it, if you think of the astonishingly gaudy spectacles that the scary TV chef Fanny Craddock used to produce, with vast mounds of piped, frilly whipped cream and hideous adornings of radioactive angelica and cherries.  Yes, you could tell even on a black and white telly. It was hilarious when contestants on the Generation Game tried - badly of course - to emulate her creations, but given the chance I'd have had a go! Then there was lovely Graham Kerr, the Galloping Gourmet. His recipes were undeniably rich, lots of cream and butter I remember, but somehow he seemed so much classier in his presentation techniques than Ms Craddock and his sunny temperament made him eminently watchable.  In our house we were glued to both shows and didn't answer the phone when they were on! 

TV shows aside, this was around the time that my mother was running a small catering business with her friend Barbara. They never really made any money cos they didn't charge enough but the quality was tip-top and they got loads of work. They used to cater for weddings, christenings, bar mitzvahs and garden parties and I used to help enthusiastically both in preparing the food and waitressing at the dos. I was only about 9, 10, 11 at the most and loved every minute of it, all the excitement of getting a booking, recipe-researching, budgeting and shopping at the cash and carry and getting to lick the beaters a lot. Not to mention the extra pocket money and it made a nice change from ironing Dad's shirts and washing the car! Our kitchen was far from state-of-the-art when we first moved in 1975 and there were sometimes 100 or more guests to cater for, but it all got done somehow. We were glad of the extra fridge and freezer in the outhouse, however!

Salmon koulibiaca I remember thinking was beyond the realms of anything I'd ever seen before - it seemed so exotic. Lovely buttery puff pastry (home-made back then and I got to decorate the top) encasing a moist filling of juicy flakes of salmon, cooked rice, herbs and lemon that was delicious hot or cold.  Cool cucumber salad made with the thinnest slices of peeled and seeded cucumber, marinated in sugar, white wine vinegar and freshly chopped dill. Coronation chicken in huge bowls with toasted almonds on top. Garlic bread (I was in charge of making the garlic and parsley butter). Strange things called Leberknoedel (German-style liver dumplings) cropped up occasionally and I have to say they weren't my favourite things! And there was a delicious dip called Liptauer with cream cheese, sour cream, paprika, shallots, capers and I think caraway seeds to have with pretzels or bread which I could quite happily have eaten straight out of the bowl with a spoon ... and frequently did.  Happy days!

At home, our young and trendy parents had lovely dinner parties on Saturday nights.  We weren't posh by any means, but home entertaining was a big thing in those days. I can remember being very young and being so excited about these events, helping with the preparations during the day (tasting copiously as I went of course), polishing the teak, the silver and wine glasses, making the table look beautiful, putting the baby sister to bed, then waiting for the magical hour when the guests would arrive. With the help of the Cordon Bleu Cookery Course, its slim collectable volumes housed in dark blue plastic box files, Robert Carrier, Elizabeth David and Larousse amongst others we delved deep into the art of haute cuisine and managed to knock up plenty of delicious concoctions.

Baths would be run and the aroma of Badedas would fill the house. Mum would slide into on an evening dress or a cheesecloth top and bellbottoms, her funky orange Charles Jourdain slingbacks and backcomb her hair when the Carmen rollers were removed; Dad would polish his short-back-and-sides, slap on the Givenchy Gentleman and slip on crisp slacks and a polo neck. Bach's B Minor Mass or a Brahms symphony might be put on the record player - but if we were lucky the Best of the Carpenters or Simon & Garfunkel (or Demis Roussos perhaps!) My other sister (as opposed to the aforementioned baby one) and I would brush our hair till it shone, put on our best dresses - velvet or broderie anglaise probably, though we had a matching pair of long flowery frocks with a fetching lace trim for special occasions, which we thought were all the rage - and were allowed to stay up late and greet the guests and chat about school and music lessons. We would take the coats, throw them on mum and dad's bed and then come down to pass round the drinks and nibbles (there were always drinks and nibbles, I loved that bit of the evening and still do). Stuffed olives, pistachio nuts, cheese straws and - very classy this - smoked oysters or mussels. John West still do them and I always have some in the larder. I became dab hand at making the perfect G&Ts, Whisky and Gingers and things with Maraschino cherries in (lots of these would be eaten in the process, lovely). Sometimes there'd be a sing-song (German lieder, barber shop quartets or madrigals rather than rock and roll!) Everyone smoked in those days, so the grown-up and intoxicating aromas of alcohol and Dunhill International were mixed with whatever delicious cooking smells wafted through from the kitchen. At this point if we weren't eating with the adults, sister and I would disappear upstairs to play Ratrace or Jackstraws, but would often creep down later to the half-landing to eavesdrop on conversations, nick food from the kitchen and try and catch a glimpse of them eating and laughing in the dining room.  

Typical dishes for one of these fabulous "soirees" might have been a starter of prawn cocktail (I loved making the Marie Rose sauce - mayonnaise, double cream, lemon juice, tomato ketchup, tabasco and a dash of dry sherry or brandy), or the lightest of salmon mousses which had been chilled in - and then divested of - its fish-shaped copper mould, decorated with cucumber slices and served on a scalloped stainless steel platter. Then maybe a delicious Steak Diane, or something Veronique or Boeuf Bourgignon (all garnished with curly parsley) or a fantastic meat fondue with lots of yummy dips to go with it (I was the dip meister). Puddings were absolutely divine - Gateau Diane with its gorgeous curls of dark chocolate "caraque" (that was Dad's speciality); chewy, crisp hazelnut meringue with cream and raspberries, lemon syllabub, chocolate mousse, Danish apple pudding (chilled layers of pureed apple with butter-fried crisp breadcrumbs and toasted almonds with whipped cream on top).  Then there was Creme Caramel and something called Spanish Chocolate Pudding that involved soaking boudoir biscuits in lashings of Grand Marnier to line the serving dish and filling it up with a mixture of butter, Bourneville, more Grand Marnier, sugar, egg yolks and goodness knows what else. Soooooo yummy and rich. But the piece de resistance would be Crepes Suzette, flambeed at the table to much oohing and ahing. Then if anyone had any room there would be cheese and biscuits - perhaps a slice of runny Brie, some Danish Blue, Boursin and one of those logs of creamy cheese flavoured with orange and rolled in slivers of almond. Afterwards, to strains of "I'm so full I can't move" there was a mass exodus to the lounge to play bridge. The coffee percolator would go on, the Remy Martin and port would come out, cigarettes would be lit and sister and I would sneak down to the dining room once they were safely ensconced to hoover up any leftovers then peer through the gap in the door to watch them at the green baize table, the smoke hanging in a visible layer below the ceiling.

The reciprocal dinner parties at other people's houses were also great fun because we used to tag along in our pyjamas, do the drinks/nibbles/sing-song ritual and then be sent upstairs, but we were of course too excited to sleep being in a strange bed so would play drawing on each other's backs and read Little House on the Prairie till we eventually dozed off. I have hazy recollections of being carried down to the car in the early hours, wrapped in blankets, half asleep.  

Those were the days! I vowed from then on to carry on the traditions of entertaining at home and have had quite a few successful evenings over the years but nothing will ever seem as sophisticated as those spectacular and atmospheric 1970s dinner parties that Mum and Dad used to have.  To this day the smell of Meths and Goddard's silver polish takes me right back to those times and I am proud to say that I still have a lovely orange Le Creuset fondue set which gets a good airing now and then ...

Happy cooking!

AMT

The merry, merry month of May

Saturday 2 May 2009

Wonderful - the bank holiday weekend stretches ahead luxuriously with, unusually, the promise of glorious sunny weather.  The ceanothus is looking gorgeous and the farm shops are brimming with good things - baskets of local asparagus bundles and bright green just-picked herbs.  The fish van came round yesterday from Rye and we just managed to snaffle some gurnard and red mullet before it all went.   We'll grill the fillets tonight and serve them with sizzling chorizo, garlic, thyme and lemon, steamed buttered asparagus and some new potatoes with chives.    Huge herby sausages from the Rare Breed Pig company and chubby chicken drumsticks will go on the grill tomorrow.    A good tip is to simmer sausages in water for 10 minutes or so before offering them to the barbecue to avoid the "burnt on the outside, raw in the middle" problem that so often occurs.  Similarly with chicken on the bone, either simmer it or bake it in the oven first and then just finish it off on the grill for the last few minutes to get a nice smokey taste on the skin and to ensure the meat is cooked right through to the middle.

Talking of chicken .... our two little hens are in their absolute element these days (aside from a slight setback during the rain on Monday where quite a lot of forlorn bedraggledness occurred) - they are dashing around the garden chortling and hoovering up bugs and slugs, staying up late every night - and getting up very early in the morning ... They're both laying again (one had a few months off in the winter)  and twice this week we've had one big egg and one the size of a grape - they look so sweet next to each other.  The little, extra-speckeldy ones have such tiny yolks but are just as tasty as the regular ones so they still get eaten!

Baking included lemon muffins with homemade "jam" in the middle.  Basically some leftover raspberries an blueberries, about 120g each, were warmed up with a little icing sugar till bubbling and then thickened slightly with cornflour.  Whisked for a couple of minutes over the heat and a gorgeous, jewelly, glossy jammy sauce appeared.  Half the muffin mixture was then put into the paper cases, followed by a spoon of the jam, then the rest of the mixture was added with a sprinkling of sugar on top.    Baked for about 20 minutes in a hot oven and they were done and really yummy.  Any jam will do of course but the impromptu fruit compote made a lovely juicy middle to the buns.    

For the next week or so we're going to be frugal and try not to do any major food shopping, just be inventive with whatever we have in the fridge, larder and freezer.  The rule is only to shop for staples - milk, butter, teabags, onions, garlic, olive oil, cheese etc.  Rummaging about we find a tin of organic chickpeas - fabulous.  Chickpeas automatically = nubbly homemade hummus to have with hot toast or crackers.  Just drain the chickpeas, whizz with garlic, lemon juice and slowly-added olive oil, some chilli powder or tabasco.  If you have some tahini then a dollop of this makes it authentic, but I sometimes toast sesame seeds and add them instead for some crunch.  Tasty, nutritious, filling and CHEAP.   If you have other canned legumes - a can of butter beans or pinto beans for example -these also make a lovely dip or spread for lunch.   A bag of pasta, a tin each of tomato and tuna and you have the ingredients for a pasta bake.  Find frozen peas and you can make soup, or a puree to accompany lamb, chicken or fish.   Sardines in tomato sauce - yummy on toast.  A bag of noodles and a can of coconut milk with jars of thai or indian spices will make a soothing, spicy, soupy supper.    Plenty of choice - thought I think we will draw the line at the can of horrid hotdogs (where did they come from??) 3 years past their sell-by date!

By the way a good tip (pun intended) for keeping asparagus fresh  - if you're not eating it on the day you buy it, put the stems in a jug of water like you would cut flowers and they'll last a few days without going bendy!

Happy cooking!

AMT