Earlier Entries
Christmas Crackers
Christmas Cracker

Another traditional family Christmas with all the trimmings for just the two of us - my brother and I.
And no, there's really nothing remotely sad about a couple of aging geezers spending Christmas alone together Rachel. Nothing at all.
Kurt's extended non-family came over to visit on Boxing day as usual when they got to eat our many leftovers, which is all for the best - Christmas Day is just wasted on the young.
Especially the starters.

I'd had a practice run at making Smoked Salmon and Avocado Terrines for a cosy yachty get-together at Anna's (of Corryvreckan fame) at which they were well received, and then another go (mostly using the leftovers) for Flora's crack at Christmas when she practiced roasting her seasonal guinea fowl.

I also tried out a new stuffing recipe there, which somewhat unexpectedly, turned out to be the perfect Christmas Goose stuffing. Who'd have thought after all those years of trying various increasingly exotic stuffing recipes, the perfect stuffing would be one of the simplest? Starting with a traditional Irish potato recipe pacé Darina Allen of the Ballymaloe Cookery School I eschewed bread completely, substituted leeks for the more common onion, tried then abandoned including the orange peel for adding a bit too much flavour, larded it with a slice of bacon, liquored her up with a splash of Grand Marnier et voilà, the perfect Sourville Family Christmas Stuffing.
For best results, scoop the perfect stuffing out of the perfectly cooked goose and bake it in a dish to crisp up while the bird rests.

What with all that practicing, I had the stuffing, er stuffed, and those starters whipped up and in the fridge so early Christmas Eve we actually had time on our hands. Unheard of! So we slipped out for Krampus: a traditional Christmas horror movie to put us in the mood.

This year I made extra, extra bacon - curing three kilo hunks and this time it probably was enough. On the other hand I really made an effort to cut down on the cheeses, intending only to buy those in which Kurt might take an interest, and some blue cheese for me. How I ended up with quite so much goat (English for chevre), is hard to say. Nor does it explain why we ate not one single bite of Christmas cheese. Not even the Gorgonzola. We didn't manage any Christmas cake either. Are these facts related and could either be a result of having too much bacon?

My Christmas cheeseboard for 2015, and a surprisingly large amount of 2016:
  • Pyrenees Chevre
    • A firm goat's cheese
  • Selles Sur Cher
    • A half soft goats cheese with mouldy rind
  • Golden Cross
    • Another soft Chevre
  • Gorgonzola
    • The beautiful Italian creamy blue cheese
  • Brie de Meaux
  • Rachel
    • A hard-hearted goat from Edinburgh Shepton Mallet
  • Vacherin Fribourgeois
    • A soft Swiss cow's milk cheese
Thank goodness then for tartiflette - that magnificent user-upper of leftover Christmas cheese. In the spirit of the season here's a recipe from the back of a postcard Flora sent me from her latest and much later - apologies timeline purists ;) skiing holiday in Serre Chevalier:
La Tartiflette
Pour 6 personnes: 1 kg de pommes de terre cuites coupées en tranches épaisses, 1 Reblochon, 20 cl de crème fraîche, sel, poivre, thym, laurier, 1 oignon, 1 gousse d'ail, 150g de lardons en dés.
potatoes, Reblochon, crème fraîche, salt, pepper, thyme, bay leaves, onion, garlic, bacon Gratter la croûte du reblochon et la couper en lamelles. Faire revenir dans une sauteuse l'oignon et l'ail émincés ainsi que les lardons, le sel, poivre, thym, laurier. Disposer le tout dans un plat allant au four en alternant avec les pommes de terre et le reblochon. Cuire au four chaud 25 mn. Ajouter la crème fraîche 10 mn avant la fin de cuisson. Servir avec une salade vert, de la charcuterie de montagne et un bon vin blanc.


So Kurt and I shared our regular 10lb goose, which if I'm honest I slightly undercooked this year. Oh it passed the safe-temperature test, but the flesh was too pink and a tiny bit chewy. I should have done the proper thing and pierced the bird between the body and thigh to examine the clarity of its juices. Bah Humbug to these new-fangled kitchen aids. Still, as ever, no-one got poisoned.

As usual we split the baking - I filled this year's mince pies with a homemeade but not-quite-traditional suet mincemeat, and had a go at Lemon Slices - another of Be·Ro's Christmas baking recipes that turned out not to be one of those Mum used to make :(
I even went to the trouble of making real lemon curd (it ain't that hard) to dress them with.
At least that turned out right.

I made the mistake of leaving Kurt in charge of preparing the potatoes for roasting, who conclusively demonstrated that you really can't overboil them. Despite simmering the absolute shit out of those spuds, until they were on the point of disintegrating, they went on to make the best roast potatoes we've ever had! On the other hand, it turns out that you can't use squeezed together bits of collapsed potatoes to construct your roasties - they just dissolve into a greasy mush.

The things we learned this year:
  • Boiling the shit out of your potatoes won't do your roasties any harm - it might even improve them!
  • An out-of-date gingerbread house kit is fun to build, but not to eat.
  • A meat thermometer is all very well but you really can't beat piercing your bird and watching her juices run the old-fashioned way.
  • Even a very restricted cheeseboard can be too much cheese.
  • It may be possible to have enough bacon.
  • The perfect Christmas goose stuffing.
A very merry Krampus to one and all!

A Pleasant Pheasant, Flora's Foody Fancies and a Crack at Christmas
A Pleasant Pheasant

Cooking is a bit like sex. Everyone thinks they can do it, but most people are just crap at it.

On an unrelated note Flora has come up with some ideas for food she fancies having. And possibly having me cook. It seems to involve a lot of fruit:

Flora's Fun Foody Fancies
  • Starter:
  • Main:
    • Fruit Curry - choose from mango/pineapple/lychee/coconut
    • papayas
    • wild rice
  • Dessert:
    • Cucumber & Mint Sorbet
    • Whisky (Talisker?) Ice Cream
    • Avocado & Chocolate Ice Cream HEY - that's my idea
    • Toast (Brioche?) and Marmalade Ice Cream
    • Popcorn Ice Cream
    • Hazel Nut Ice Cream
    • Aidan's Nutty Ice Creams whatever they are :)
Meantime we've managed to actually cook some more mundane dishes together for our midweek dinners, while her partner Pete is away.
Regularly :O

Flora dressed her own farfalle salad while I gave her pheasant a pleasant seeing to.
A damn fine job we made of the pheasant too. We're teetotal at the moment, but figured a saucy cider wouldn't be breaking the pledge. Somewhere amongst the meals we shoved in some French baker's potatoes too, though I can't now remember what we ate them with. After a while all these meals start to run together...

Our latest dinner was perfectly memorable, though: an exploratory Xmas for both of us - I tried this year's seasonal starter and a novelty stuffing and Flora had a run through of her whole Guinea-Fowl-based Christmas dinner. I laid the wee bird on a bed of chopped onion, carrots and celery, stuffed her cavity with my spuds, and roast her at 160°C for about 1½ hours, maybe longer (which might explain the over-roasties), until the stuffing came up to safe eating temperature (70°C).
I also tried making a baked fruit compote, covered with foil in the bottom of the oven - using grapefruit, lemon and apple slices leftover from my Christmas baking, plus a dash of port, red wine, Cointreau and some sugar syrup left over from my candied peel. You know, for making my mincemeat. For my mince pies.
Flora tried it next day after I'd remembered about it and reported that it tasted burnt :(
The things we both learned:
  • Stock takes a good 10 minutes to defrost in the microwave.
  • Even with two ovens it's possible to overcook the roasties. I blame the oven. And the old, small, waxy potatoes. And the uncertain cooking time for the bird. Allegedly if you need to pull the roasties out early to keep warm you can get them crispy again by putting them back in a hot oven. But don't cover them with foil or they'll turn soggy. Suffice to say I didn't try it.
  • Oven-cooked Bread Sauce takes longer than the time necessary to cook a Guinea fowl, and is better made with a quality bread product.
  • Left-over red wine makes for a lovely gravy.
  • It's possible to add too much orange flavouring to the stuffing.
  • There may not be room for pudding!
The starters were very good - I'll be going with those. The stuffing was excellent - I had a dish of it to roast also for comparison, and both came out quite well, though I like the crispy bits from the dressing version. The internal stuffing was, as always, a little claggy. But if anything less so than bread-based versions. I think the best-of-both-worlds approach will be to scoop the stuffing out of the bird while it rests and finish it off in a roasting dish in the oven.
On the BIG DAY™.
Coming soon!


Braised Pheasant with Cider and Apples and Celeriac
main fowl
A very pleasant pheasant indeed.
I improved Blanche Vaughan's dish slightly by adding some root vegetables, and reducing the liquid a bit harder so the pheasant braises above the liquid rather than boils in it.
This dish goes so well with celeriac mash that I included it in the recipe. Obviously you don't have to.

Serves 2

Ingredients
  • 1 pheasant
  • olive oil
  • butter
  • 8 small onions or shallots, peeled, whole
  • 500ml dry cider
  • 1 small celeriac, peeled
  • 1 parsnip, peeled, sliced
  • bunch thyme, leaves only, roughly chopped
  • 100g smoked bacon lardons, or sliced thick rashers
  • chicken stock
  • 6 juniper berries, crushed
  • 2 potatoes
  • 2 apples, peeled, cored, sliced
  • juice of 1 lemon
Method
Preheat the oven to 175°C/350°F/Gas Mark 4.
Prick the potatoes and put on the top shelf of the oven to bake for mashing.
If you have two ovens you should bake the potatoes at 200°C/400°F/Gas Mark 6 so they're ready in time!
Joint the pheasant into two legs and two breasts with wings attached. Leave them all on the bone. Have a good feel for lead shot, any bits of feather or bone and season well with salt & pepper. Heat a mixture of olive oil and butter in a heavy casserole until foaming and brown the pheasant all over. Set aside.
Peel the small onions quarter or halve any large ones, but leave them connected at the root and add to the casserole with slices of thick smoked bacon, or lardons. Stir to coat until they start to colour.
Peel the parsnip and slice into ½" rounds. Peel the celeriac, cut into quarters, cut a half-dozen ½" slices and set the rest aside. Add the parsnip and celeriac slices to the casserole with a half-dozen crushed juniper berries and stir until nicely buttered and taking on a little colour.
Remove the parsnip, then add the cider and stock and bubble off over high heat until enough is left to just cover the vegetables (about ½-1"). Throw in chopped thyme leaves, return the parsnips to the casserole then lay the pheasant pieces on top. The liquid should just reach them.
Cover tightly use a piece of tin foil under the lid for a good seal and cook in a Gas 4 oven for up to an hour until the pheasant is tender.
You can remove the breasts earlier and set aside if they cook quicker than the legs.

Peel the apples, core, and cut into fat slices or peel, slice then core, dress with lemon juice to prevent browning and set aside until needed.

Cut the rest of the celeriac into large chunks and set to simmer or steam until (very) tender; about 20 minutes. Mash or purée enthusiastically (it can be a bit lumpy) then scoop out the baked potato and add that in together with a generous amount of butter and spoonful or two of the crème fraîche.
Season and keep warm.

Warm a serving dish for the pheasant.
Heat some butter in a frying pan until foaming and put in the apple pieces in a single layer turning once until nicely browned all over. Resist moving them too much to avoid them breaking up.
Take the casserole out of the oven and remove the pheasant pieces to rest a few minutes. Scoop the vegetables and bacon out and layer in the serving dish along with the cooked apple. Place the pheasant pieces on top.
Reduce the sauce left in the casserole dish, if required, then whisk in a tablespoon or two of crème fraîche or to taste over a low heat. The sauce should thicken a little and be light brown coloured - don't allow it to boil hard lest it curdle.
Pour the sauce over the pheasant dish and serve with celeriac mash.
Most excellent.

Where Have All The Pumpkins Gone?
Carved Pumpkins

Into my spare room - mostly. In preparation for my annual Pumpkin Spectacular, because yup, it's that time of year again!
It's also close enough to my birthday to pretend that it could be my birthday party and demand presents. I got a balloon and everything.
Handily Kurt and Karen were up for a family visit at the same time - the whole gang's together again!
Perhaps that's why my schedule is a little sketchier than usual, three pairs of hands meant less meticulous planning was required.

I decided to break with tradition this year and forgo my usual roast chicken in a pumpkin, trying out a chicken casserole in a pumpkin instead. I used Tom Kerridge's recipe as my guide

the menu
Hors D'œuvres
Angels and Devils on Horseback. ON A PUMPKIN!
A little something to get things moving.

Starters
A Simple Greek Salad. IN A PUMPKIN.
Pumpkin Bread. FROM A PUMPKIN!
Cream of Cauliflower Soup with White Truffle Oil. IN A PUMPKIN!
Decorated with shavings from that jar of brined black truffles I've been keeping in the back of my fridge for years.

Mains
Chicken Casserole. IN A PUMPKIN!
Butter Braised Green Cabbage
Fondant Potatoes
All served with mashed butternut squash, though sadly not in a pumpkin :(

Dessert
Pumpkin Pie
With squirty maple cream.



Have some pumpkins!

Hogwart's pumpkins All the pumpkins


Chicken Casserole in a Pumpkin
main fowl meat
There's a slight problem cooking this casserole in a pumpkin - it takes forever. Plus you'll need a huge pumpkin - I've no idea what size casserole the guy uses. It must be one of those you see in westerns hanging from a tripod and full of enough beans to feed a herd of hungry cowboys.

I weighed the filled pumpkin, and then calculated the cooking time at 20 minutes per pound, plus an extra 20 minutes, but it wasn't quite long enough and though the chicken was excellent, the vegetables were a little al dente for my taste. Perhaps it would have helped if there'd been a little more room in the pumpkin, but I was quite determined to get everything I'd gone to the trouble of cutting up and preparing in there, and ended up having to ram in the last few pieces pretty hard.

It probably makes quite a difference not being able to bring the contents to the boil before it goes in the oven. If I try this again I might have to consider boiling in a casserole first, then decanting into the pumpkin. Bit of a faff though!

Serves 4-6

Ingredients
  • chicken 1 medium, about 1.5kg, giblets removed
  • 1 enormous pumpkin optional!
  • carrots 2, each cut into 4 pieces
  • celery sticks 2, tough strings removed with a vegetable peeler, each cut into 4 pieces
  • white cabbage 1 small, about 350g, quartered
  • leek 1, trimmed and well washed, cut into 6 pieces
  • celeriac , peeled and cut into 4 pieces
  • pickling onions or small shallots 8, peeled and halved
  • garlic cloves 8, peeled but left whole
  • salt and freshly ground black pepper
  • cured garlic sausage 1, about 200g, cut into 1cm dice
  • smoked lardons 100g
  • thyme bunch
  • rosemary 1 bunch
  • fennel seeds 1 tsp
  • black peppercorns 1 tsp
  • star anise 1
  • chicken stock 700ml
Method
Preheat the oven to 170C/gas mark 3. Season the chicken cavity lightly with salt. Put all of the vegetables and the garlic into a large bowl and season with salt and pepper. Toss to mix.

Scatter a layer of vegetables in the bottom of a large, heavy-based flameproof casserole Or a pumpkin! In which case cut out the lid leaving a guiding notch and a large enough hole to get the chicken through (!) and scrape out the innards. and place the chicken on top. Pack the remaining vegetables, garlic sausage and lardons around the chicken and tuck the thyme, rosemary, fennel seeds, peppercorns and star anise into the pot too.

Pour in the chicken stock. Put the casserole over a medium-high heat and bring to the boil. Cover with a tight-fitting lid. Place in the oven and cook for 1 hours. Remove from the oven and leave, covered, to rest for 20-30 minutes.
It's going to take quite a bit longer to cook if you've stuffed it in a pumpkin.

Carefully lift the chicken from the casserole and place it on to a baking tray. Use a cook's blowtorch, if you have one, to colour the skin until it's golden. (This isn't essential but it will add colour to the dish.)

Shred the chicken into large pieces and divide it and the vegetables between warmed deep plates. Ladle over some of the broth and pour the rest into a warmed jug to pass around the table.
So, a bit disappointing on first attempt - but my experience of in-pumpkin cuisine is that it takes a couple of goes to get right.

Spanakopital
Spanakopita

Inspired by recent Greek adventures, or perhaps just my natural genetic inclination, I quite fancied knocking up a tasty-looking but distinctly ersatz spanakopita. We ate quite a lot of lunch-time Greek spinach pies while we were sailing there, but made none of them; they came pre-packed in a sealed plastic containers from the fridges of every corner shop and grocers, but surprisingly good they were. Just stick them in the oven and you're good to go.
Don't think I've noticed them in this country, but I don't suppose we'd have the discernment required to force a supermarket to stock one worth eating in any case. Those foreigners have all the best food.

Super-Carrots make a fine accompaniment, and a Greek salad, obviously. Preferably dressed with the olive oil you brought back from your latest visit.
Perhaps one day I'll actually have a go at making my own filo pastry?

Creamy Garlic Chicken Spanakopita
main fowl
According to the font of all wisdom, Spanakopita is a Greek portmanteau term for spinach pie, so calling this a chicken spanakopita seems fair game. Scrunching up the filo (phyllo?) pastry topping gives a nice crunchy texture as well as making it look pretty.

The original recipe calls for baking the pie in the skillet used for cooking, but I used a separate casserole dish, and took the opportunity to line the bottom of it with extra filo pastry to soak up more of those lovely, lovely juices. Yum.

Serves 6

Ingredients
  • 1 pound fresh baby spinach leaves, washed
  • 6 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
  • 1½ lb boneless, skinless chicken breasts or thighs, chopped into 1-inch chunks
  • salt and freshly ground black pepper
  • 6 medium cloves garlic, minced
  • 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
  • 1 leek, sliced, washed
  • glass wine
  • ½ cup chicken stock or as required
  • ¼ cup cream
  • 6oz feta cheese, crumbled
  • 3 scallions, white and light green parts only, chopped
  • 1 small bunch dill, chopped, plus more for garnish
  • 6 to 8 sheets phyllo dough, thawed and covered with a towel
Method
Heat a large cast iron skillet over medium heat. Add spinach, a handful at a time, until the pan is full; you may have to cook the spinach in batches to ensure that it cooks evenly. Turn the spinach often until just wilted, then transfer to a colander and press out as much water as you can. Continue until all of the spinach is wilted and pressed.
If you like you can keep the liquid to use as stock.
Pour off any excess water in the skillet and place back over medium heat. Melt 2 tablespoons butter in the pan and add the chicken and a grind of pepper. Cook, turning once, until the edges are lightly golden, about 4 minutes. Remove from heat and set aside.

Fry the leek slices until they take on a little colour. Set aside.

Preheat oven to 425°F/220°C/Gas Mark 7. Melt 2 tablespoons butter in same skillet and add garlic. Cook until fragrant, about 1 minute, then mix in flour. Stir together until the mixture forms a golden paste. Whisk in a glass of wine, if you have one. Whisk in ½ cup chicken stock with some of the spinach juice, if you like. Cook, stirring often, until mixture is thickened and coats the back of a spoon. Whisk in the cream.

Add feta cheese, scallions, and dill and stir, allowing the feta to melt. Return the chicken and spinach to the skillet, mixing well, bring back to almost simmering and remove from heat. If the sauce has thickened too much, add more chicken stock to reach the desired consistency, keeping in mind that the mixture will thicken even more when baking in the oven.
Season with salt and pepper.

Melt the remaining 2 tablespoons butter in a small saucepan or in the microwave. Lay a sheet of phyllo on a work surface. Brush with melted butter, then scrunch up the sheet and set it on top of the spinach mixture in the skillet. Repeat with remaining phyllo until the skillet is completely covered.
If you're decanting to a casserole dish you can line the bottom too, even if it's just one layer.
Bake until phyllo is golden and crisp on top, about 20 minutes. Remove from oven, garnish with additional dill, and serve warm.
Very good, though it's not quite a spanakopita.

Super Carrots
Carrots cooked in carrot juice
side veg vegan
I've read that carrots make excellent candidates for sous vide cookery, which method intensifies their flavour to great effect.
A super carrot if you will.
So I decided to attempt a poor man's super carrot by cooking them gently in their own carroty juices.
The result is pretty good actually, with the carrots retaining much more of their natural carroty goodness than steaming or water-boiling would achieve, but it is quite a lot more effort.
And takes a lot more carrot!

Serves Surprisingly Few

Ingredients
  • carrots
Method
Select a few straight carrots of dimensions that will give you a uniform collection of cuboids.
Trim your selected carrots down to a rectangular core by slicing away four long sides, then cut the core into cubes.
Juice enough carrots to produce liquor to cover the carrot cubes (a lot!). Season lightly with salt and sugar.

Put the carrots and juice in a small pot, bring up to the boil then leave at the gentlest of simmers until the carrots are tender (perhaps half an hour). You may need to raise the pot over a gas ring, if that's what you're using, to avoid boiling.
Apparently your vegetables need to reach 84°C to break down their pectin.
Serve immediately, or leave the carrots to cool in the juice.
Because the carrot juice separates when cooked producing a suspension of orange flecks, you should quickly rinse the carrots with hot water to clean them before serving.
OK, it's an awful lot of faff (and carrots!) for a few carrot cubes. But damn they taste good. I think they'd taste even better dressed with butter, but it seems a shame to dilute their pure carrotyness, given the lengths gone to.
It's surely easier just to glaze them if buttery carrots is what you want.
Allahu Ak Bar
&
Grill
Monemvasia

Is what Stuart reckoned would be a brilliant name for a restaurant. Picture that on a T-shirt. Perhaps with the & Grill bit on the back? Imagine the admiring looks :)
Oh oh - too late!

So I'm back from a terrific holiday sailing along the Peloponnese peninsula with Stuart, and others, on a very new Beneteau Oceanis 48 called Skiron (not Σκιρων, oddly) the Greek god of the northwest wind. Out from (a rather broken-down-looking) Athens to Poros (for an excellent Red Snapper dinner), then the sail to Spetses, where we lost the dinghy, and down to the fortress town of Monemvasia - the furthest point on our voyage. And where we broke the canopy with a pomegranate - long pirate story.
We returned via the surprisingly shallow Maggie's Inlet where we broke the outboard. It isn't really called that - it's just that it was our friend Maggie who told us about it. It seems to actually be called Limani Garakas.
Finally back to Athens via the truly fabulous port of Hydra, on the island of, er, Hydra. It's also tiny - and only due to the late time of year that we managed to get any kind of berth there. The island being as barren as it is, virtually everything has to be shipped in, which unfortunately doesn't explain the terrible food they served us - it being a lobster risotto. At least the music was entertaining.

Due to the abundant cafés, bistros, taverns and restaurants ashore everywhere we went, there was little need to cook anything onboard other than a bit of breakfast, and a light lunch. So I return with nothing more than my recipe for Monemvasia Daffodil Soup.
And some olive oil.
And some olives.
Walking With Vegesaurs
Kelpies

Had a visit from my ex-New York buddy Becky Knowall - who is still a vegetarian, despite my best efforts.
A fine opportunity to revisit those famous tourist sites of Edinburgh which I only ever see with, er, tourists, kicking off with the fabulous Forth and Clyde canal Kelpies, and the Falkirk wheel. Then toasting Greyfriars bobby, a particular Becky favourite, before that long haul up Arthur's seat which almost killed her.
Though she hid it well.
Stoic, Becky is.

We also hit all the top vegetarian foodspots - the usually-reliable Kalpna, which had unreliably run out of aubergines (for their excellent Baingan Bharta) and naan breads (for everything else).

And David Bann, unfortunately David too seems to be a victim of his success, The service was cursory, the food solid but uninspired, and I had to fight tooth and nail to get my chilli margarita properly chilled and served in a salted glass.
Unimpressed.
Becky scoffed down Thai fritters of broccoli and smoked tofu with banana chutney and plum dressing followed by Aubergine, chick pea and cashew koftas with roasted sweet potato in a spicy aromatic cocounut and courgette tomato sauce - you've got to admire her determinedly curried diet. The waitress was adamant that the fat slices of roasted sweet potatoes were in fact the pieces of sweet papaya from the salad promised in the menu.
We remain unconvinced.
I had a pleasant Ravioli parcel of artichoke, chickpea and basil succeeded by stodgy Mushroom strudel baked in Heather Ale wrapped in filo pastry served with creamed potato and roasted Mediterranean vegetables . Chick Pea Overload!

Fortunately the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art was as dependable as ever, providing Becky with a fascinating view of Eduard Paolozzi's studio, plus Roman Standard aka bird on a pole - the only piece of work by Tracey Emin that's actually recognisable as art.
The walk up from Leith, along its waters, is a fine stroll made more entertaining by decorative stacks of stones piled ingeniously in the running water, more art, presumably. In the wild, so to speak.
Despite their appearance, these precarious piles were not held by glue or cement either - I know because I almost destroyed one of them by the merest touch of my finger.
If only more of Emin's art" were as fragile.

Back home I asked Becky what she might fancy as a homemade dinner, since we'd run out of vegetarian restaurants, and this suitably morel moral vegetarian mushroom risotto was the result. Well, vegetarian except for the distinctly beefy Monchega cheese.
Damn those cow's stomachs - they get in everything!


Mushroom, Carrot and Courgette Risotto
main veg
A delicious vegetarian* risotto made with a bunch of fortuitous leftovers I had lying around after a visit from my vegetarian friend Becky Knowall. Apologies for the use of the stock cube - feel free to make your own!

* May contain non-vegetarian cheese

Serves 3-4

Ingredients
  • 30-50g dried porcini mushrooms (cèpes)
  • 1 generous cup/250g/8oz Arboria risotto rice
  • about 75g soft goat cheese, or whatever you have left
  • about ½ cup grated Manchego cheese or vegetarian equivalent
  • plenty of butter
  • 4 banana shallots
  • 3 garlic cloves, minced
  • 2 glasses white wine
  • vegetable stock cube or pot
  • 2-3 carrots
  • 1 courgette
  • pinch of dark sugar
  • pinch coriander powder
  • salt & pepper

  • Topping:
  • leeks, finely shredded
  • oil for frying
Method
Soak the dried mushrooms in boiling water for 10 minutes or so, then drain and rinse thoroughly keeping the soaking liquid and the rinse runoff. Strain the soaking liquid carefully to remove any grit oh yes, there will be grit, set to simmering over a low heat and add a vegetarian stock cube or pot. Cut up any particularly massive soaked mushrooms and set aside.

Peel or scrape the carrots, cut into 1cm cubes and put in a pan with a tight-fitting lid together with a generous knob of butter, a pinch of dark sugar, salt, coriander powder and a splash of water. Sweat gently over a low heat, adding more water if the pot dries, until very tender - perhaps 30 minutes. Remove from the heat until required.

Peel away any thick skin from the courgette in strips, so it looks stripey, then cut into 1cm cubes. You should have about 2 cups each of carrots, courgette and onion.

Finely chop about 4 banana shallots (or more small, round ones) and fry in a generous amount of foaming butter until glassy.
Add a generous cup of Arboria rice and stir to coat thoroughly with the butter.
Add 3 minced garlic cloves and the soaked mushrooms, stir briefly, then add a glass of white wine and bubble to evaporate, then the second, evaporating again. Add the courgette you might add some or all the courgette a little later to preserve more of their texture, then add the rest of the stock one ladle at a time, bubbling off in between each round until the rice is cooked but still firm: 20-30 minutes.

Stir through another knob of butter and the grated Manchego until it melts. Season to taste. Add the carrots. Remove from the heat. Gently stir in the soft goats cheese, leaving some streaks and swirls in the mixture to look pretty :)

Thinly slice a 3" section of white leek stalk, rinse and dry well. Heat some oil not too hot in a deep pot and fry the shredded leek until golden, drain on kitchen paper.

Serve the risotto decorated with more grated Manchego and the crispy fried leeks.
Yum!
Flora In The Hole
Toad in the Hole in a Tray

Flora wants to expand her repertoire to include Toads in the Holes, so I consulted Nigel Slater for ideas for enhancing my Mum's traditional version such as by wrapping the sausages in fancy hams or adding splashes of mustard. We actually made a bit of an experiment of it and put a variety of sausages in the same hole - some plain, some skinned and wrapped in ham, and some in bacon.
We must have hit the Perla del Mar pretty hard though, 'cos I have little memory of the outcome - I think we agreed the bacon ones were the least good. I'm not sure if we thought the pancetta was a worthwhile faff. Perhaps Flora remembers?

I thought a creamy version of my apple-mustard sauce would make a good accompaniment hence no need to add mustard to the batter, together with roast potatoes and green beans.

Toad In The Hole
Sausage in Yorkshire pudding
meat main
Apparently you get a tastier batter if you mix half milk and half beer, and a tablespoon of wholegrain mustard helps too.
It's almost universally agreed that you need to let the batter sit for (at least) 15 minutes before you use it. It should have the consistency of double cream - so adjust the liquid accordingly.

For a bit of variation you can skin the sausages and either turn them into little patties with the addition of herb or spices, or you can wrap the skinned sausages in ham or bacon before laying them in the batter. You might want to fry or roast the bacon-wrapped ones first, though.

Serves 4

Ingredients
  • 2 eggs
  • 125g flour
  • 300ml milk or half-milk, half-ale
  • 6 sausages
  • 3 tablespoons dripping or lard
  • thinly sliced prosciutto, Serrano ham, pancetta or thin streaky bacon optional
  • 1 tbsp grainy mustard optional
  • salt & pepper
Method
Put the flour in a bowl and make a well in the centre. Whisk in the eggs and mustard if you like and continue to whisk until just smooth. Gradually add the milk and a pinch of salt and whisk to a smooth batter. The consistency should be that of double cream, but no thinner. You might need to pour the batter through a strainer if it's still lumpy.
Leave to rest for at least 15 minutes.

Heat half the fat in a frying pan over a medium heat and brown the sausages on all sides.
Or if you prefer, skin the sausages and wrap in the ham.
Preheat the oven to 220C/425F/Gas 7.
Put the remaining fat in a roasting tin and leave it in the oven until it is smoking.
With the roasting tin sitting over a low heat pour in the hot fat from the sausage pan, followed by the batter - it will sizzle softly in the hot fat - then arrange the sausages in the batter.

Transfer the tin back into the oven and bake for 25-30 minutes until puffed and golden.

Traditionally served with peas and a rich onion and Madeira gravy.
Or you could try a chunky tomato sauce or even a creamy apple and mustard purée?

Creamy Apple and Mustard Purée
sauce veg
The perfect accompaniment to toad in the hole.
You're on your own with the quantities though :)

Ingredients
  • butter
  • onion, peeled, diced
  • apple, cored, chopped
  • a little brown sugar optional
  • water or wine
  • double cream
  • Dijon mustard
Method
Heat the butter in a saucepan and sweat some chopped onion, apple and sugar if using until soft.
Add a little water or wine and bubble until the apple collapses, then blend to a smooth paste or not if you prefer it chunky.
Return to the pan and stir in some cream, mustard and season to taste.
Rather nice.
Avoid boiling once you've added the cream. You could always add some herbs (parsley, tarragon, chives) at the end if you like.
Rockin' The Vreckan
Corryvreckan Panorama. With famous 'ghost' island!

Yachtmistress Anna Whitewater offered a weekend on her boat the Zanzara in exchange for a flattering submission to Port Edgar Yacht Club's yearly cruising log competition.
And a cooked dinner.

I chose a delicious belly pork, chorizo and chickpea stew as the foody bribe. A good use of some lovely leftover hog roast stock too.
Ken Mud selflessly volunteered to author an entirely fictional log of our weekend - carefully censoring any mention of drink, drugs or nautical stupidity.

Anna was so impressed she agreed to take us through the notoriously deadly Corryvreckan.
Ancient mariners speak softly of the Corryvreckan and the sea monsters which lurk there - the whirlpools with their deadly currents eager to suck a boat to its water grave, the terrible storms which whip up in an instant and dash vessels to pieces on the cruel rocks, and the sunken wrecks waiting to snare unwary vessels seeking safe anchorage.
Fortunately none of those things are true.
Well, except for the last one, as we found out to our cost when we tried to raise our anchor after a very comfortable night in the beautifully sheltered bay just south of Oban with the unpronounceable name of Puilladobhrain (Pool of the Otter). Handy also for the famous Bridge over the Atlantic and nearby 18th century Tigh an Truish pub.
It seemed we'd hooked a heavy chain from an old fishing boat mooring and despite wrecking the anchor windlass succeeded in raising the anchor no more than a foot off the bottom.
After much straining and grunting (on my part), and swinging of the boat and chain (on Anna's part) Ken finally remembered that he had brought aboard a waterproof, submersible camera for just such occasions and he managed to lower it down to get pictures of the cause of our predicament.
Once understood it was just a matter of persuading Anna to dive into the freezing jellyfish-infested waters to hook a line through the mooring chain so we could tie it off and hold the massive links up while we dropped our anchor free of it. Then it would be just a matter of hauling up the anchor and its ludicrously heavy chain past the busted windlass and sailing off. Simples.
All power to the skipper - she took to the task like a seal, and we finally set off for the vreckan only 4 hours later than any possible calculations of the tides allowed for us to make it there in time.

The problem is, the tide flowing through the corryvreckan is so strong (8½ knots at springs, perhaps 4 knots at neaps) that there is no way to pass through against it, and our anchorage was Pig's Bay (Bagh nam Muc) just out the other side. Undaunted we pressed on - even hoisting the dusty spinnaker (to Anna's horror) to capture every last ounce of wind, and surprised ourselves by arriving at the very slackest of the tide.
So much for our calculations!
As we motored through the gulf the tide beneath us swung madly between 2 knots with us to 2 knots against us, it was a little nerve-racking but we made it through.


So safe and sound for another night at anchor, a row ashore, and a knotty clamber to a fine view of the whirlpools, which are real. After a Karl Special breakfast, a gentle sail saw us back to Oban the next day and apologies to Anna's dad for wrecking the windlass and snapping the dinghy oar.
Well, at least Ken didn't set the outboard on fire this time!


Belly Pork, Chorizo and Chickpea Casserole
main meat nautical
An extremely rich stew, that freezes well too.
Perfect for provisioning a boat trip!

Serves 4

Ingredients
  • 1 tbsp olive oil
  • 700g skinless, boneless pork belly, cut into large bite-sized chunks
  • 100g cooking chorizo, sliced into thin rounds or more
  • 1 large onion, chopped
  • 1 large carrot, finely chopped
  • 1 tsp fennel seed
  • small pinch dried chilli flakes optional
  • 4 garlic cloves
  • 4 bay leaves, fresh are best
  • sprig of thyme
  • large pinch golden caster sugar
  • 2-3 teaspoons paprika
  • 1 tbsp tomato purée
  • 50ml sherry vinegar or good quality red wine vinegar
  • 50ml sherry
  • 400g tin chopped tomatoes
  • 400ml pork stock
  • 400g tin chickpeas or other beans e.g. butter, drained and rinsed
  • fresh chopped parsley
Method
Heat the oven to 160C/140C fan/gas 3.
Heat the oil in a casserole dish with a lid and fry the fennel seeds until sizzling.
Add the belly pork and spend a good 10 mins browning the pork on all sides in batches, scooping it out to set aside as it's done.
Next fry the chorizo and sizzle for a minute. Scoop out and add to the pork.

Add the vegetables, fennel seeds, chilli flakes, and herbs and cook for about 5 mins until the vegetables are soft and just starting to colour.
Sprinkle over the sugar, add the garlic and paprika and cook a little.
Stir in the tomato purée then splash in the sherry and the vinegar and bubble for a moment.
Tip in the tomatoes and a can of pork stock (say, from a hog roast carcass) or water. Stir the pork and juices into the sauce, season with salt and pepper and bring to a simmer.

Cover the dish with a lid and place in the oven for 2 hours, checking occasionally and if the sauce becomes too thick add a splash more stock. Remove the pan from the oven and stir in the chickpeas and return to the oven for 15 mins. Remove again and leave to cool slightly so it's not scorching hot then stir through the parsley. Taste for seasoning and serve with crusty bread or boiled or mashed potatoes.
Delicious.
Our Allotted Vegetables
Alloted Vegetables

My neighbour Nancy and her allotment keep me well supplied with vegetables. And the occasional fruit. Thanks Nancy!
Since her glut of beetroot and rhubarb, I've been inventing things to do with beetroot and rhubarb. And carrots.
Getting some courgette flowers to stuff made a nice change.

Rhubarb and Beetroot Fool
dessert veg
Yes that's right - a rhubarb and beetroot fool!
Partly because I had a lot of beetroot and rhubarb to eat up, partly because it seemed like they might just work together, partly just 'cos they were there...

Serves 4

Ingredients
  • fresh ginger optional
  • 4 sticks rhubarb
  • 1 beetroot
  • berry coulis say blackberries and blackcurrants
  • double cream
Method
Heat the oven to 180-200°C, put the whole unpeeled beetroot on an oven tray and bake until it is soft and easily pierced with a knife (up to 2 hours).

Roughly chop the rhubarb, scatter with a little sugar (perhaps a dessertspoon), moisten with a little apple juice, liquor or water and cook gently in a covered pot until the rhubarb begins to collapse. Check the sugar level and set aside to cool.

Whip the cream until it begins to thicken, but is still pourable. Peel and finely grate the beetroot and mix with the rhubarb. Lightly stir together the cream and rhubarb mixture (so they form distinct swirls) and serve with a drizzle of fruit coulis.
You know what, it ain't bad! It's a more earthy, nutty concoction than pure rhubarb, but less aggressively acidic.
I planned on adding some grated ginger to the rhubarb, but I forgot. I still think it might be nice though.
Also since beetroot goes well with chocolate - consider a chocolate sauce instead of the coulis?

Beetroot and Rhubarb Salad
salad veg
My neighbour Nancy had a glut of beetroot and rhubarb in her allotment this year. So I thought I'd try ways of combining them. This is Yotam Ottolenghi's idea, and I think it works better than my fool. But you could always have a meal with both!

The dressing proved so good I gave it a recipe all of its own.

Serves 4

Ingredients
  • 800g various beetroots (or, if you can't get them, one type is fine)
  • 300g rhubarb, cut on an angle into 2.5cm pieces
  • 30g caster sugar
  • 1 small red onion, thinly sliced
  • 20g picked parsley leaves
  • 100g creamy Gorgonzola or similar blue cheese, torn into small chunks
  • salt and black pepper

  • Dressing:
  • 2 tsp sherry vinegar
  • ¾ tbsp pomegranate molasses
  • 2 tbsp maple syrup
  • 2 tbsp olive oil
  • ½ tsp ground allspice (pimento)
  • a handful of pomegranate seeds optional
Method
Set the oven to 200C/400F/gas mark 6. Wrap the beets individually in foil and bake for 40-70 minutes, depending on size. To check, push a sharp knife through to the centre of each one - it should be soft all the way through. Set aside to cool, then peel and cut into a rough 2cm dice.

Toss the rhubarb with the sugar, spread it over a foil-lined oven tray and roast for 10-12 minutes, until soft but not mushy. Set aside to cool.

In a large bowl, whisk the vinegar, molasses, maple syrup, oil, allspice and some salt and pepper. Add the onion, set aside for a few minutes to soften, then add the parsley and beets. Stir to combine, season to taste and, just before serving, gently fold in the rhubarb, its juices and the cheese.
Really quite tasty. The cheese ties the whole thing together very nicely.
It will look better if you hold the (curly) parsley and the cheese back to the end so they look clean and perky.
I thought it could also do with more rhubarb, perhaps double, so you end up with roughly equal quantities of beetroot and rhubarb. I also wondered if a hint of sumac might go quite well?

Beetroot and Carrot Poriyal
curry veg vegan side
So this dish went a bit wrong - I shaved the coconut using a vegetable peeler along the coconut edge, due to the following confusing suggestions of my cute landlady Aline:

Aline: You don't have a coconut shaver do you? My friend from Kerala made a really nice cabbage thoran with shaved fresh coconut
Karl: No I don't think so - is it like a cheese grater?
Aline: No, it shaves the coconut from the inside - it's nothing like a cheese grater. I don't think you could use a cheese grater
Karl: Oh, that sounds good - I'll try it with some of Nancy's carrots and beetroots
...
Karl: What do you think of my carrot and beetroot poriyal [a dish from Tamil Nadu, next door to Kerala] with shaved coconut?
Aline: The coconut is thick and hard - why didn't you grate it with the cheese grater? You should have used the cheese grater
Karl: ??!!??

Serves 2-3

Ingredients
  • 2 medium beetroots
  • 1 medium carrot
  • 1 green chili, chopped
  • 1 tsp urad dal
  • 1 tsp mustard
  • 1 tsp fenugreek seeds
  • 1 green chili
  • 10-12 curry leaves/kadi patta
  • a pinch of asafoetida/hing
  • a pinch of turmeric/haldi
  • 1 tbsp oil
  • 3-4 tbsp shaved coconut shaved is Indian for grated apparently
  • salt as required
Method
Rinse, peel and chop the beetroots and carrot very finely, the more fine, they faster they will cook. You can also grate the veggies if you prefer.
Actually I cut mine a bit chunky 'cos I was expecting the coconut to be quite thick too, but with grated coconut I can see the point now...
Heat the oil in a pan. Add the mustard seeds and urad dal.
Fry till the mustard seed make a popping sound and the urad dal get maroonish golden. make sure you don't burn them.
Add the green chilies, curry leaves, turmeric powder and asafoetida. Fry for 10-12 seconds.
Now add the chopped veggies. sprinkle salt and stir. Cover and let the veggies cook till they are done. Sprinkle some water if the moisture dries in the pan. Keep on checking during intervals and sprinkle water whenever required.
When the veggies are cooked well, lastly add coconut and give a stir. Before adding the coconut, if there is moisture in the pan, then dry it by simmering on an open flame for a few minutes. Sprinkle the coconut and then switch off the flame and cover.
Bit dull - I'm sure it could be improved. Perhaps by grating the coconut?

Cabbage Thoran
curry veg side
So here's the very nice Cabbage Thoran that Aline's friend Laly from Kerala made.
If you have a coconut shaving tool, now's the time to dust it off. Otherwise use a fine cheese grater.

Serves 4

Ingredients
  • 1 cabbage, finely grated
  • ½ coconut, finely grated
  • 2 tsp mustard seeds
  • ½ onion, roughly chopped
  • ginger, grated
  • 1 tsp turmeric optional
  • fresh green chillies, chopped
Method
Crack open the coconut, remove the brown skin with a vegetable peeler (though you can eat it), and finely grate the white flesh.
You can do this by punching holes in the coconut eyes, draining the water, putting the coconut briefly in a very hot oven and tapping with a hammer. Or waiting until the shell cracks with the heat.
Or cutting it in half with a machete.
Beware that the heating might evaporate a little of the moisture and natural oils from the coconut flesh.
Heat the oil and fry the mustard seeds until they pop.
Add the roughly chopped onion and fry over high heat until they are quite browned around the edges.
Add the turmeric, if using.
Add the grated cabbage, grated coconut, grated ginger, chopped chilli and a little salt, cover, lower heat and leave to steam stirring occasionally until cooked through (20-30 minutes).
Subtle, gentle but tasty.
It's quite dry - Aline reckons it was bad coconut, or bad grating - so needs serving with a moist dish. I'd probably prefer less coconut than Laly does.

Stuffed Courgette Flowers
starter snack veg
The male flowers may have a short stalk on them, but the females can have small courgettes attached. It's difficult, though, to cook flower and the attached courgette the right amount, so attractive as they may be, probably better just to cook the flower.

If you're serving lactose intolerants you can probably work up something of the right stuffing consistency with yoghurt and some kind of tofu.

Ingredients
  • courgette flowers
  • soft cheese (cream/ricotta/goat's)
  • a little hard cheese, grated optional
  • herbs, chopped
  • lemon zest
  • flour and egg, milk or water batter mixture
Method
Carefully open up the flowers, check for bugs, and pinch out the stem at the base of the flower. Give them a clean if necessary.
Mix your chosen soft cheeses with some chopped herbs (basil, parsley, mint, etc), a grating of stronger cheese like Parmesan or hard goat's cheese and grate in some lemon zest. Spoon the mixture into the flowers, then fold them back up giving a little twist at the tips to hold them closed.

Make a light batter - I like a tempura-style version with 50/50 regular flour (or rice flour) and cornflour with a sprinkling of bicarbonate of soda and a pinch of salt, mixed to the consistency of thick cream with really cold sparkling water. Heat half an inch or so of oil in a pan. Roll the flowers in the batter to coat them lightly, then fry quickly in the hot oil, turning to make them golden all over. If the filling starts to ooze out it's a sign they're done.
Very nice indeed, and pretty too.
Good served with a tomato sauce or tomato vinaigrette
Hog!
Tug Mating Display

I make this entry under protest so that my fellow code-monkey The Cave Bague can get my recipe for hog roast vindaloo. Some day soon I'll fill in all the other missing holes in my diary, but until then here's one hole filled at least...

So it started with East Coast Sailing Festival at Port Edgar, and four days of stiff sailing competition in which we managed both a couple of first places and at least one last. On Saturday night though, the entertainment committee arranged for a hog roast (together with the usual beer tent and ethnic dance music), and having paid a ludicrous five pounds for a tinder-dry hog-roast-roll and missing out on the cut-price £2.50 clearance at the end of the night, I asked the nice hog roast man what he intended doing with the leftover carcass.
Since it seemed a pity to let him give it away to a kennel I asked if I could have it for stock and he kindly filled a binliner with the bones and more than a little leftover wads of meat still attached. Much to the boat skipper's horror when he came to poke around in the fridge onboard next morning!

After stripping down the bones and roasting them to make a deliciously rich pork stock I had enough meat (plus fat and the odd bit of gristle) to knock up a hog roast stroganoff for four to see us through the annual fireworks concert marking the finale of the Fringe Festival, as seen from the fantastic vantage point of the top floor bedrooms of Flora's family home (thanks Flora!). And an excellent vindaloo to go with the two other curries I already had standing by.

Hopefully this'll stop yer moaning John :)
Peace.

Hog Roast Vindaloo
Pork
meat curry main
When the Portuguese arrived in Goa they brought with them barrels of pork preserved in red wine vinegar and garlic for the making of Carne de Vinah d'Alhos, which they adapted to the local ingredients by pickling in fermented palm wine vinegar, sweetening with jaggery, adding Indian spices: tamarind, sumac (surprisingly), cassia, cardamom, and of course absorbing a large amount of red chilli. And renaming it Vindaloo.
Obviously the recipe became further bastardised by the British restaurant trade which gradually eroded it's distinctive vinegar and garlic flavours, made it hotter than the sun, and began adulterating it with tomatoes and potatoes.
This recipe is a throwback to the earlier version - though you can of course make it as hot as you can bear. Or hotter.

It just so happened that my yacht club had a hog roast one of the days it hosted East Coast Sailing Festival, so I begged the carcass afterwards, which they would otherwise have given to a dogs' home. I made an excellent stock from the bones, and stripped off enough good hog flesh to make this vindaloo.
And a stroganoff.
And a few pork sandwiches.
And a nice cardigan.

Serves 4

Ingredients
  • 2lb (1kg) pork

  • For The Marinade:
  • ⅓ - ½ cup (90ml - 140ml) palm or red wine vinegar
  • 1 tbsp tamarind paste
  • 1 tbsp jaggery, palm sugar or brown sugar
  • 6 cloves garlic
  • 2" piece ginger
  • with
  • 10 dried red chillies or 20!
  • 1 tsp cumin seeds
  • 4 black cardamoms, seeds only
  • 1 tsp fenugreek seeds
  • 1 tsp popppy seeds
  • 5 cloves
  • 1 inch cassia bark
  • 10 black peppercorns
  • ½ tsp turmeric
  • 1 tsp chilli powder or to taste
  • 1 tsp salt

  • The Rest:
  • 1 tsp brown mustard seeds
  • 10 fresh curry leaves or 20 dried will do
  • 3 onions, finely chopped
  • 4 green chillies or to taste
  • ½ head garlic, peeled, cut into slivers
Method
Dry-fry the whole marinade spices without burning until they release their aroma. Grind to a powder with the salt and powders. Set aside.
Process together the vinegar, garlic, ginger, tamarind and sugar to a paste and add the ground spices.
Cut the pork into bite-sized pieces, coat thoroughly with the marinade, and set aside for several hours or a couple of days.

Finely chop the onion don't be concerned that there appears to be too much - it will reduce to nothing!. Pour a generous amount of ghee or oil in a large frying pan or casserole and set over a high heat. When shimmering, throw in the mustard seeds and shake until they start to pop, add the curry leaves until they fizz, then throw in the chopped onions. Continue cooking over high heat, stirring frequently, until they turn glassy but not brown, then turn down the heat and cook gently, stirring occasionally, until they reach a uniform caramel colour. Don't let them burn.
Shake any excess marinade from the pork and add to the onions, frying until the spices are cooked and the oil separates.
Remove the onions and set aside.
Re-oil and re-heat the pan, then over a high heat fry the pork (in batches if necessary) to brown. Add back the onion mixture, add a little water if necessary, cover and cook gently over a low heat until the pork is tender - about 1 hour. if you're using cooked pork, as I did, you only need to cook the spices through - perhaps 15 minutes.
Meanwhile, heat ghee/oil in a clean pan and gently fry the garlic slivers for about 20 minutes until soft and translucent but not burnt. Add to the meat before serving.
Excellent curried hog!
Though mine wasn't terribly hot (not that it has to be - I used 10 small red chillies and 1 tsp chilli powder), it has a very pleasing, rich, and distinct flavour. You can always adjust the heat at the end with fresh green chillies, though I prefer a vindaloo with the heat cooked in.

If you want to be a philistine about it you can throw a few tomatoes or tomato purée in with the frying meat to make it more resemble north Indian cooking, add cream or coconut milk to smooth the sauce, or even add potatoes to bulk it out.
But you'd be wrong.

Turmeric Mustard Courgette
curry veg side
I decided to have a go at duplicating an old cucumber curry recipe only with courgettes. From my neighbour Nancy's allotment.
Works pretty well!

Serves 4

Ingredients
  • ghee
  • 2 courgettes, chopped
  • 1 tsp mustard
  • 2 tsps turmeric
  • 1 tsp salt
  • ½ tsp chilli powder
  • 2 cloves garlic, crushed optional
Method
Mix the powder spices with enough water to make a thick paste. Cut the courgettes lengthwise into quarters, then chop into 1" pieces. Heat a generous amount of ghee in a heavy pot then add the spice paste and fry until the oil separates and any raw smell has cooked off. Add the crushed garlic, if using. Add the courgettes, and over a fairly high heat, stir to coat the pieces evenly and fry until the courgettes begin to collapse. Turn down the heat and cook uncovered, stirring occasionally, until the sauce has thickened.
Quite nice - the turmeric and mustard give a nice sharp but earthy flavour.
Not quite sure about the garlic - you might prefer not to use it. Like the original recipe, fresh ginger might be a better option.

Green Pepper Keema
curry main meat
A handy way of using up leftover mince. I had leftover pork mince (as I discovered after I'd defrosted it), which is a bit odd for a keema if not downright sacrilegious, but it tasted really good.
I didn't really record the exact quantities - so just go wild and throw in what you feel :)

Serves 4

Ingredients
  • ghee
  • star anise
  • black cardamoms, pierced
  • cassia
  • whole cloves
  • onion seeds
  • red chillies
  • cumin powder
  • turmeric
  • salt
  • mince I used pork, as it turned out, but beef or lamb would be fine
  • 1 onion, roughly chopped
  • green pepper, roughly chopped
  • fresh red chillies, chopped into fat rings
  • 4 cloves garlic, crushed
  • small bunch coriander leaves
Method
Heat a generous amount of ghee in a large frying pan and fry the large whole spices until they release their aroma.
Throw in the onion seeds until they spit, then add the mince and fry over high heat until colouring.
Add the chopped onion and fry until transparent, then add the powdered spices and salt, stir through, then add the green pepper, fresh chilli and crushed garlic.
Stir, turn down the heat, cover, and cook until the pepper softens.
Pick out the whole spices and serve dressed with chopped coriander.
Very good. A hot dry curry that needs to be served with a moist one, such as Turmeric Courgettes.

Hog Roast Stroganoff
main meat
Like beef stroganoff. Only with leftover hog roast.
Traditionally served with matchstick french fries, a ribbon pasta (linguine/fettuccine) or rice are also acceptable.

Serves 4

Ingredients
  • 1lb leftover hog roast, or thinly sliced beef fillet, sirloin or tenderloin
  • 1 onion or 6 shallots, quartered and thinly sliced
  • dozen button mushrooms, quartered or sliced
  • 1 tsp smoked paprika this deep, rich Spanish paprika is excellent, though for authenticity it ought to be Hungarian
  • 300ml/10fl oz soured cream
  • 2 tsp lemon juice
  • small handful of parsley leaves, finely chopped
  • salt
  • freshly ground black pepper
  • oil
  • butter

  • Optional Flavours:
  • garlic, thinly sliced
  • tomato purée
  • Dijon mustard
Method
If you're using raw meat fry it quickly in very hot oil in batches, stirring for about a minute. Season and set aside.

Heat the butter until it stops foaming and fry the onions until soft and sweet but not browned, stir through a teaspoon of paprika. Add the mushrooms and fry until softening.
Add the cooked meat, and any flavourings (though probably not all of them!), then add the sour cream and warm through without boiling lest the cream curdle.
Stir in lemon juice and parsley, and serve dressed with parsley sprigs and a sprinkling of paprika.
Delicious hog!
I may have added garlic, but this time no mustard (or tomato), and I skipped the lemon juice too.
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