We've been a bit heavy on the meat recently, so this was an attempt to redress the balance. Alas, the Polish sausage Kuba brought back this week, which I foolishly placed by the loaf on the bread board, proved too tempting towards the end of the meal. It wasn't needed: it was just there.
Serves two as a main meal, perhaps with some bread.
Green or puy lentils, three or four handfuls (I have small hands)
250g halloumi cheese
Half a red onion
A clove of garlic
A lemon
Salad leaves, a couple of handfuls (I used romaine and spinach)
Baby plum or cherry tomatoes
A red chilli
Vegetable stock
White wine
Walnut oil
Extra-virgin olive oil
Balsamic vinegar
Paprika
Fresh herbs - I didn't use any, but think that mint would work particularly nicely next time.
Slice the red onion, mince the garlic, de-seed and slice the chilli and juice the lemon, then mix all that up in a bowl and leave it.
Wash the lentils then bring them to the boil in about half a litre of the stock topped up with white wine. Cook at a rolling boil for ten minutes then cover and simmer gently till tender (around half an hour), topping up with hot water if needed.
Cut the halloumi into thick slices, sprinkle with paprika and place under a hot grill till golden-brown.
Drain the lentils. Drain the onion mix, reserving the lemon juice - to which add a dash of balsamic vinegar before whisking in a tablespoon of walnut oil and then three or four more of olive oil, till you have a tasty dressing.
Roughly shred the salad leaves and herbs, halve the tomatoes, put everything in a large salad bowl and mix through the dressing. Serve with the halloumi on top and some crusty bread. You can leave the salami in the fridge.
Friday, 22 April 2011
Wednesday, 13 April 2011
Paellotto
A cross between paella and risotto, this was a leftover supper for two which worked rather nicely.
A cup of risotto rice
A length of chorizo, sliced
A few raw king prawns
A small onion, finely chopped
A small shallot, finely chopped
Some cloves of garlic, sliced
Green beans
Cognac or white wine
Chicken stock
A pinch of saffron
Tomato purée
A teaspoon or two of dried herbes de Provence
Crème fraîche
Lemon juice
Fresh thyme
Olive oil
Set the stock to warm with a pinch of saffron in it. Heat enough olive oil to cover a large pan, then add the finely chopped onion and shallot and cook gently for a few minutes, until soft. Add the chorizo, along with the garlic and dried herbs, and cook till it starts to release its oil. Add a teaspoon of tomato purée and cook for a minute. Turn up the heat and add a good glug of cognac or white wine, letting it reduce. Stir in the rice to coat the grains, then add some stock and proceed to cook as a risotto. If you're not grilling the king prawns separately, add them around ten minutes before the rice will be cooked - if grilling, just give them a minute in with the rice at the end. Add the green beans with five minutes to go.
Finish off by stirring in a dollop of crème fraîche, a squeeze of lemon juice and a good sprinkling of fresh thyme leaves.
A cup of risotto rice
A length of chorizo, sliced
A few raw king prawns
A small onion, finely chopped
A small shallot, finely chopped
Some cloves of garlic, sliced
Green beans
Cognac or white wine
Chicken stock
A pinch of saffron
Tomato purée
A teaspoon or two of dried herbes de Provence
Crème fraîche
Lemon juice
Fresh thyme
Olive oil
Set the stock to warm with a pinch of saffron in it. Heat enough olive oil to cover a large pan, then add the finely chopped onion and shallot and cook gently for a few minutes, until soft. Add the chorizo, along with the garlic and dried herbs, and cook till it starts to release its oil. Add a teaspoon of tomato purée and cook for a minute. Turn up the heat and add a good glug of cognac or white wine, letting it reduce. Stir in the rice to coat the grains, then add some stock and proceed to cook as a risotto. If you're not grilling the king prawns separately, add them around ten minutes before the rice will be cooked - if grilling, just give them a minute in with the rice at the end. Add the green beans with five minutes to go.
Finish off by stirring in a dollop of crème fraîche, a squeeze of lemon juice and a good sprinkling of fresh thyme leaves.
Sunday, 27 March 2011
A cheese sandwich
This is another Nigel Slater job, with a bit of adjustment. It is also gorgeous.
Serves two.
A large naan bread.
200g block of feta
Three or four medium red chillies, thinly sliced
Six or seven spring onions (scallions), sliced
Olive oil
Thyme leaves
Lettuce
Warm the naan bread wrapped in foil in the oven.
Fry the chillies, spring onions and thyme gently in the olive oil, aiming to soften rather than brown. After a very few minutes, add the feta block - you just want to warm it through, not cook it.
Halve the naan, place a small lettuce leaf on each half, followed by half the cheese. Spoon over the chilli and onion mix, then fold the naan over to make a sandwich/wrap. Serve with grown-up chips.
And 'Grown-up chips' would be:
McCain curly oven fries
Half a red onion
Herbes de provence
Olive oil
Set the fries going in the oven while you slice the red onion and toss it in the dried herbs and olive oil. After five minutes, add the onion to the fries and continue to cook until the onion is getting crispy.
Serves two.
A large naan bread.
200g block of feta
Three or four medium red chillies, thinly sliced
Six or seven spring onions (scallions), sliced
Olive oil
Thyme leaves
Lettuce
Warm the naan bread wrapped in foil in the oven.
Fry the chillies, spring onions and thyme gently in the olive oil, aiming to soften rather than brown. After a very few minutes, add the feta block - you just want to warm it through, not cook it.
Halve the naan, place a small lettuce leaf on each half, followed by half the cheese. Spoon over the chilli and onion mix, then fold the naan over to make a sandwich/wrap. Serve with grown-up chips.
And 'Grown-up chips' would be:
McCain curly oven fries
Half a red onion
Herbes de provence
Olive oil
Set the fries going in the oven while you slice the red onion and toss it in the dried herbs and olive oil. After five minutes, add the onion to the fries and continue to cook until the onion is getting crispy.
Wednesday, 16 February 2011
Spare ribs
Shopping at the weekend, I came across some knobbly, muddy, raw beetroot (rather rarer than one might think, in the Highlands) which I later carried into the living room with all the ceremony of a bevy of Cardinals parading a holy relic. This treasure was showed to Yulya with reverence and a hopeful smile - hopeful that she'd consent to make her superlative red borsch sometime this week.
Last night my hopes were fulfilled, with much fresh bread and smacking of lips. I had, however, on the supermarket run to get dill and sour cream, nudged her ladyship away from pork chops and towards the ribs, on the grounds that they'd make better stock. In a trice we had a shared vision of sticky-sweet pork ribs as another meal, and into the basket they went.
So while Yulya was working miracles with the soup pan, I set about marinating the leftover ribs. A Kikkoman teriyaki marinade got acquainted with the ribs, helped by some light soy, lemon juice, cayenne pepper, five spice, chopped garlic and mirin, before they were all sent to cool their heels in the fridge till needed.
Tonight the whole lot was transferred to a maximum-security casserole for inspection. Finding it all a little lacking, I set about scouring the bottom shelf of the fridge - the one occupied entirely by pickles and salsas and sauces - for supplies. The last few spoonfuls of spicy apple chutney from the Storehouse? In they go! The scrapings from a jar of hoisin sauce? The survivor of duck wraps (another leftover treat), hiding behind the Arran tomato relish, their luck has finally run out. Half a tin of tomatoes, not required for the borsch, soon follows, along with a dollop of brown sauce, a teaspoon of honey and another sprinkling of five spice.
An hour and a half later, 180 degree heat had reduced this to a sticky, slightly carbonised mess, reminiscent of my ox tail braise - this, even with half a cup of water added halfway through. A simple stir fry and some steamed rice (after a slight rizastrophe left me swearing over the first batch) joined the ribs on the plate for a very brief meeting.
Next time, I will start cooking earlier - and make more ;-)
===============================================================
We discovered, after soaking, that this made an unholy mess of the cast iron casserole dish. I'd be tempted to line it with foil next time.
Last night my hopes were fulfilled, with much fresh bread and smacking of lips. I had, however, on the supermarket run to get dill and sour cream, nudged her ladyship away from pork chops and towards the ribs, on the grounds that they'd make better stock. In a trice we had a shared vision of sticky-sweet pork ribs as another meal, and into the basket they went.
So while Yulya was working miracles with the soup pan, I set about marinating the leftover ribs. A Kikkoman teriyaki marinade got acquainted with the ribs, helped by some light soy, lemon juice, cayenne pepper, five spice, chopped garlic and mirin, before they were all sent to cool their heels in the fridge till needed.
Tonight the whole lot was transferred to a maximum-security casserole for inspection. Finding it all a little lacking, I set about scouring the bottom shelf of the fridge - the one occupied entirely by pickles and salsas and sauces - for supplies. The last few spoonfuls of spicy apple chutney from the Storehouse? In they go! The scrapings from a jar of hoisin sauce? The survivor of duck wraps (another leftover treat), hiding behind the Arran tomato relish, their luck has finally run out. Half a tin of tomatoes, not required for the borsch, soon follows, along with a dollop of brown sauce, a teaspoon of honey and another sprinkling of five spice.
An hour and a half later, 180 degree heat had reduced this to a sticky, slightly carbonised mess, reminiscent of my ox tail braise - this, even with half a cup of water added halfway through. A simple stir fry and some steamed rice (after a slight rizastrophe left me swearing over the first batch) joined the ribs on the plate for a very brief meeting.
Next time, I will start cooking earlier - and make more ;-)
===============================================================
We discovered, after soaking, that this made an unholy mess of the cast iron casserole dish. I'd be tempted to line it with foil next time.
Tuesday, 8 February 2011
My Khoresht-e-Gheimeh
I was reading an article yesterday about how Iranian state telly had been told by the Ministry of Culture to stop showing cookery programmes on foreign food; while the whole thing was a bit of a non-story, I did have a scout around to try and find out about some of the Persian recipes mentioned in the piece. One in particular took my fancy: khoresht-e-gheimeh (or khoresh ghaimeh, or any one of a dozen spellings - my Farsi is non-existent and I've lost touch with Sara) is the name, and here - about as traditional as coq au smirnoff - is my take on it.
Serves two, with some left over for tomorrow.
3/4 lb (350g) stewing lamb, cut into large cubes
A large onion, sliced
A 400g tin of tomatoes
A red pepper, thickly sliced *
A handful of dried, split yellow peas
A medium sized potato, cut into big cubes *
A handful of white cabbage, shredded *
Half a lemon (unwaxed) *
Two lime leaves *
Two or three cloves of garlic, chopped *
One teaspoon of turmeric
Half a teaspoon of cinnamon
Quarter to half a teaspoon of cayenne pepper *
Two tablespoons of tomato puree
Half a pint of vegetable stock (probably less) * or water
Salt and pepper
Olive oil
Heat the oil in a large, heavy-bottomed pan (for which you have a lid) and fry the lamb and onions together for about five minutes or until most of the liquid is gone. Add the garlic and cook for another couple of minutes, then tip in the spices and fry for another minute.
Stir in the tomatoes, tomato puree, peppers and split peas, throw in the lemon half and the lime leaves, then add the stock/water to cover. Bring it to the boil then turn the heat right down - you want to do this really slowly - cover it with a foil lid and put the pan lid on top of that. Leave it for an hour, then give it a stir, check the seasoning and add the potato and cabbage, with some more water/stock if it's getting too dry (you're aiming for a rich, thick sauce). Seal it back up with the foil and the lid and stew for another half an hour or so. Leave the lid off for a few minutes at the end to reduce if you've overdone the liquid.
Serve with steamed rice, or cous cous or bread or whatever - these days I make slow-fried potatoes. I thought about adding some dates or prunes at the start, and Yulya reckons that would have worked well. She also fancied that rice as taught to her years ago by an Iranian chap would have been good - fry a little onion in butter/ghee then stir in basmati to coat; add some broken spaghetti and raisins, pour in water (about the same amount as the rice used) and seal the pan as best you can to steam the contents, checking the water from time to time.
* The more traditional recipes I looked at didn't call for any cayenne pepper or garlic, and none of them wanted any cabbage or red pepper which I added, respectively, because Yulya likes the green stuff and we'd only half a tin of tomatoes left. Stock is also unheard of - water or nothing, seems to be the cry. The potatoes are supposed to be French-fried and used as garnish, and there should be two or three dried limes instead of the half-a-lemon-and-two-lime-leaves I used, but it was quite zesty enough for us.
Serves two, with some left over for tomorrow.
3/4 lb (350g) stewing lamb, cut into large cubes
A large onion, sliced
A 400g tin of tomatoes
A red pepper, thickly sliced *
A handful of dried, split yellow peas
A medium sized potato, cut into big cubes *
A handful of white cabbage, shredded *
Half a lemon (unwaxed) *
Two lime leaves *
Two or three cloves of garlic, chopped *
One teaspoon of turmeric
Half a teaspoon of cinnamon
Quarter to half a teaspoon of cayenne pepper *
Two tablespoons of tomato puree
Half a pint of vegetable stock (probably less) * or water
Salt and pepper
Olive oil
Stir in the tomatoes, tomato puree, peppers and split peas, throw in the lemon half and the lime leaves, then add the stock/water to cover. Bring it to the boil then turn the heat right down - you want to do this really slowly - cover it with a foil lid and put the pan lid on top of that. Leave it for an hour, then give it a stir, check the seasoning and add the potato and cabbage, with some more water/stock if it's getting too dry (you're aiming for a rich, thick sauce). Seal it back up with the foil and the lid and stew for another half an hour or so. Leave the lid off for a few minutes at the end to reduce if you've overdone the liquid.
Serve with steamed rice, or cous cous or bread or whatever - these days I make slow-fried potatoes. I thought about adding some dates or prunes at the start, and Yulya reckons that would have worked well. She also fancied that rice as taught to her years ago by an Iranian chap would have been good - fry a little onion in butter/ghee then stir in basmati to coat; add some broken spaghetti and raisins, pour in water (about the same amount as the rice used) and seal the pan as best you can to steam the contents, checking the water from time to time.
* The more traditional recipes I looked at didn't call for any cayenne pepper or garlic, and none of them wanted any cabbage or red pepper which I added, respectively, because Yulya likes the green stuff and we'd only half a tin of tomatoes left. Stock is also unheard of - water or nothing, seems to be the cry. The potatoes are supposed to be French-fried and used as garnish, and there should be two or three dried limes instead of the half-a-lemon-and-two-lime-leaves I used, but it was quite zesty enough for us.
Saturday, 20 November 2010
Paella
A half-remembered recipe which worked out fine last night, this serves three or four.
Chorizo - four banger-sized sausages or a ring, sliced to about a £2 coin width
Two free-range chicken breasts, skin on
250g paella rice
A small onion and a shallot or two, finely chopped
Garlic, three or four cloves, finely chopped
Three or four ripe tomatoes, roughly chopped
Raw king prawns, as many as you want
A sprig of fresh thyme
A teaspoon of paprika
A big pinch of cayenne pepper, and another of saffron
A small glass of dry white wine
A large glass of dry white wine
Just under a litre of chicken stock
A handful of frozen peas
Olive oil
Sliced pancetta, if you want - but watch out for the salt
Heat the oven to about 180.
Set the saffron to infuse in the chicken stock over a low heat.
Heat the olive oil in a big - proper big - pan, enough to cover the base. Season and brown the chicken, skin side down first, then transfer to the oven for 25 mins to half an hour.
Add a bit more oil to the pan if necessary and then fry the chorizo (and pancetta, if using) till they start to crisp.
Tip in the onions and shallots and soften.
Make a hole in the middle and slide in the tomatoes, cooking till they begin to make a paste.
Add the garlic, paprika and cayenne pepper, stir and cook for a couple of minutes.
Pour in the small glass of white wine, turn up the heat and bubble. Start to drink the big glass.
When the wine has reduced, stir in the rice and cook for four to five minutes. Then add the stock. Throw in the thyme, bring to the boil then simmer for around twenty minutes till the rice has absorbed most of the liquid.
Add the prawns and peas, cover the pot and leave for up to five minutes, till the prawns are nicely pink and the peas cooked.
Chorizo - four banger-sized sausages or a ring, sliced to about a £2 coin width
Two free-range chicken breasts, skin on
250g paella rice
A small onion and a shallot or two, finely chopped
Garlic, three or four cloves, finely chopped
Three or four ripe tomatoes, roughly chopped
Raw king prawns, as many as you want
A sprig of fresh thyme
A teaspoon of paprika
A big pinch of cayenne pepper, and another of saffron
A small glass of dry white wine
A large glass of dry white wine
Just under a litre of chicken stock
A handful of frozen peas
Olive oil
Sliced pancetta, if you want - but watch out for the salt
Heat the oven to about 180.
Set the saffron to infuse in the chicken stock over a low heat.
Heat the olive oil in a big - proper big - pan, enough to cover the base. Season and brown the chicken, skin side down first, then transfer to the oven for 25 mins to half an hour.
Add a bit more oil to the pan if necessary and then fry the chorizo (and pancetta, if using) till they start to crisp.
Tip in the onions and shallots and soften.
Make a hole in the middle and slide in the tomatoes, cooking till they begin to make a paste.
Add the garlic, paprika and cayenne pepper, stir and cook for a couple of minutes.
Pour in the small glass of white wine, turn up the heat and bubble. Start to drink the big glass.
When the wine has reduced, stir in the rice and cook for four to five minutes. Then add the stock. Throw in the thyme, bring to the boil then simmer for around twenty minutes till the rice has absorbed most of the liquid.
Add the prawns and peas, cover the pot and leave for up to five minutes, till the prawns are nicely pink and the peas cooked.
Wednesday, 29 September 2010
A smashing pumpkin
I thought that being roasted with red onions as an accompaniment to steak was the highest form of pumpkin pleasure until I bunged it in a curry. Pumpkin curries in restaurants have almost exclusively disappointed but, having seen what looked like a good 'un on the last 'F Word', when what were described as culinary pumpkins popped up in Tesco, one found its way into the basket straight away. I overdid the pumpkin here, just by five minutes but enough to make it a wee bit too soft for our taste. Practice makes perfect, and I plan to practise plenty.
Serves 3-4
Two-thirds of a small pumpkin - the rest can be roasted with red onion as an accompaniment to steak ;-)
Two small onions
Two cloves of garlic
Two red chillis
Two stalks of lemon grass
A big chunk of root ginger - about the size of three fingers
Sugar snap peas
Fresh coriander and mint
A lime
One large teaspoon of ground cumin
One large teaspoon of ground coriander
One teaspoon of red curry paste
Two teaspoons of turmeric
Four fresh tomatoes, peeled and seeded, plus a tin of them
Three quarters of a pint of vegetable stock
A tin of coconut milk
Groundnut oil or ghee for frying
A word of warning right at the start: DO NOT SHAKE the coconut milk.
Peel and clean the pumpkin and chop it into big chunks - the more delicate the flesh, the bigger they'll need to be to stand up to cooking without falling apart. Thumb-sized or larger is what you're after. Heat the oil or ghee - enough to just cover the bottom - in a large saucepan. Roughly chop the onions and add to the pan on a low heat to soften. Finely chop the chillis, peeled ginger and garlic, then remove the outer leaves from the lemon grass and finely slice. For the heat, I left about two-thirds of the seeds from one of the (medium) chillis in there, which made it pleasantly hot without bringing tears to the eyes.
Add the chillis, ginger, garlic and lemon grass to the onions and cook for five minutes or so. Stir in the ground coriander, cumin, turmeric and paste, and cook for another five to seven minutes, while you get on with peeling, deseeding and roughly chopping the fresh tomatoes. Done? Into the pan with them, then, and let them cook down for a couple of minutes before adding the tinned tomatoes and letting the whole lot bubble away for up to ten minutes - you want the tomatoes to start to make a thick gravy.
Now pour in the hot vegetable stock, stir and bring to the boil, then slide in the pumpkin and simmer gently for twenty minutes (possibly twenty five, but thirty is too long). Test the heat after about five minutes and bung in some more chilli seeds if needed. Five minutes before the end, add the sugar snap peas. Finally, stir in just the cream off the coconut milk - I reckon that if you add all of it, the dish will be too watery, hence the warning against shaking the tin - the chopped fresh herbs and the lime juice.
Serve with Yulya's special rice.
I'd take a photograph, only I just ate the last bit for lunch. Even better, the next day.
UPDATE: Yulya has now made this her own, and makes it far better than I did. I'm not complaining.
Serves 3-4
Two-thirds of a small pumpkin - the rest can be roasted with red onion as an accompaniment to steak ;-)
Two small onions
Two cloves of garlic
Two red chillis
Two stalks of lemon grass
A big chunk of root ginger - about the size of three fingers
Sugar snap peas
Fresh coriander and mint
A lime
One large teaspoon of ground cumin
One large teaspoon of ground coriander
One teaspoon of red curry paste
Two teaspoons of turmeric
Four fresh tomatoes, peeled and seeded, plus a tin of them
Three quarters of a pint of vegetable stock
A tin of coconut milk
Groundnut oil or ghee for frying
A word of warning right at the start: DO NOT SHAKE the coconut milk.
Peel and clean the pumpkin and chop it into big chunks - the more delicate the flesh, the bigger they'll need to be to stand up to cooking without falling apart. Thumb-sized or larger is what you're after. Heat the oil or ghee - enough to just cover the bottom - in a large saucepan. Roughly chop the onions and add to the pan on a low heat to soften. Finely chop the chillis, peeled ginger and garlic, then remove the outer leaves from the lemon grass and finely slice. For the heat, I left about two-thirds of the seeds from one of the (medium) chillis in there, which made it pleasantly hot without bringing tears to the eyes.
Add the chillis, ginger, garlic and lemon grass to the onions and cook for five minutes or so. Stir in the ground coriander, cumin, turmeric and paste, and cook for another five to seven minutes, while you get on with peeling, deseeding and roughly chopping the fresh tomatoes. Done? Into the pan with them, then, and let them cook down for a couple of minutes before adding the tinned tomatoes and letting the whole lot bubble away for up to ten minutes - you want the tomatoes to start to make a thick gravy.
Now pour in the hot vegetable stock, stir and bring to the boil, then slide in the pumpkin and simmer gently for twenty minutes (possibly twenty five, but thirty is too long). Test the heat after about five minutes and bung in some more chilli seeds if needed. Five minutes before the end, add the sugar snap peas. Finally, stir in just the cream off the coconut milk - I reckon that if you add all of it, the dish will be too watery, hence the warning against shaking the tin - the chopped fresh herbs and the lime juice.
Serve with Yulya's special rice.
I'd take a photograph, only I just ate the last bit for lunch. Even better, the next day.
UPDATE: Yulya has now made this her own, and makes it far better than I did. I'm not complaining.
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