sandwich time

mmm. Sandwich time. The last 20 minutes of This Morning with Philip and Holly and they are making Beouf Bourgignon and hilarious double entendres. I accidentally made an amazing and completely vegetarian sandwich. I had to make another one afterwards in case it was a dream.
Toasted sourdough bread and butter, 2 slices of very soft mozzarella, a handful of spinach leaves, a layer of mashed avocado and a few sprinkles of pizza express orignal dressing. squash it down - all sandwiches taste better squashed - and devour. (I hurt the roof of my mouth) accompanied by a last swig of red orange juice from the carton, 2 cornichons, a small morsel of smoked salmon and a plum. Easily in the top 5 lunches.

fireworks night stew

In a considerable improvement on last year's display, entitled "near-death experience", at least 1/3 of this year's fireworks got into the air and exploded there as planned. To accompany this spectacular event, we needed a cauldron full of hot, spicy, smoky stew.
We also had; hundreds of sausages, onion marmalade, salads, cakes (cherry and almond loaf from Nigella's domestic goddess) and a delicious concoction from Nigel Slater in The Observer magazine, baked potatoes with rillettes (although his assertion that potatoes would need only 1 hour baking was taken well by mum.)
As it turned out, We may as well have been feeding 500 people from a thimble but they were all very polite about it.
feeds about 8-10 people sensible portions.
- 3 thickly sliced chorizo sausages, fried in oil for about 6 minutes, then remove from the pot
- 2 chopped red onions, fried until soft in the oil and chorizo fat.
- add 4/5 small salad potatoes cut into equal sized chunks
- a handful of mini carrots
- 10 cloves of garlic slightly squashed
- 5 tomatoes chopped roughly
- add the chorizo back into the pot
- pour on about a glass of sherry
- an over-enthusiastic heaped teaspoon of smoked paprika, a large pinch of saffron strands, a teaspoon of fennel seeds, and a hesitant sprinkle of chilli powder ground together in a pestle and mortar and stirred in.
- 3 bay leaves, a strand of thyme leaves, and a handful of chopped parsley leaves and stalks.
- 2 tins of chopped tomato and 2 tins of beans (flageolet/haricot)
- 1 litre stock (we had goose but anything would do)
let it simmer away for hours - it was more convenient for us to leave it on very low for most of the day, but you can just simmer away until you like the consistancy and the level of spice.
Served in cups to an army of disappointed pyromaniacs. Thank god there was beer.

ninja soup

It came from nowhere, no would ever have suspected it...
The kind of evening where everyone's hungry and no one can be bothered to do anything about it. There is very little in the fridge inspiring you, apart from half a bottle of wine. You just have to throw things at a saucepan, and ask everyone not to be picky. In the end this turned out to be quite good, an amalgamation of vaguely Asian ideas put together with odds and ends and hot enough to be comforting and a cure for colds.
- 1 fat clove of garlic, one thumb-sized lump of ginger, 1 small red fiery chilli, a handful of chopped parsley stalks and leaves and about a tbsp frozen chopped lime leaves, blended together with olive oil to make a paste.
- Fry the paste in a deep pan with a bit more oil and a teaspoon of assam paste. (this had been lying around in the fridge, and was included purely because I didn't fully trust the rest of my ingredients to be flavoursome enough. You could instead add a stick of lemongrass and replace the parsley with coriander for a much more authentic and homemade approach.
- After this has fried for a while, add a pint of chicken stock and a can of coconut milk (depending on how much you love coconut you could add more, I LOVE it and always want to break open a second can but I know this to be bad and wrong) and bring to the boil.
- As it's boiling I chuck in some baby new potatoes cut in half and a tablespoon of fish sauce (nam pla) and a squeeze of lime juice.
- After about 5 minutes I also add some quartered tomatoes and some green beans. After a few minutes more I add 2 portions of dried noodles, a packet of bamboo shoots from the "miscellaneous" shelf in the cupboard and 2 handfuls of frozen prawns.
- The timing of this dish is absolute guesswork. but the last few ingredients shouldn't have more than about 4 minutes.
- Serve with an extra squeeze of lime juice.
- The hardest thing about the whole experience is an even distribution of ingredients throughout 4 bowls, and apparently it is not cool to ask someone else to do that for you.

"sorry i couldn't coq it up tonight"

Inspired (sure, we've all been there) by This Morning chef, Phil Vickery, I wanted to make a coq au vin for dinner. He made it look so easy and delicious (whilst being VERY defensive about his method - embarrassed about simplifying things to such an extent that us jobless plebs could understand him...) and having 4 hours to spare of an afternoon, I gave it a go. I used a book called "the french kitchen" for professional guide whilst scrolling through Phil's "quick recap" in my head for comedy value - eg, in most french kitchens they will be able to bring an old coq in....
We only had a whole young chicken so I had to pull my socks up and do some serious butchery like a masterchef: the professionals contestant and joint it into 6 pieces. Worryingly, I found this to be pretty much the most fun you can possibly have in a kitchen, and my brother and the dog lurked around behind me like a 2-headed Monica Galetti pointing out that I had raw chicken in my hair and trying to eat it (respectively).
To accompany the coq au vin i made some parsnip mash with two ludicrously huge parsnips that had been sent to us in the post. Despite being by far the simplest part of the menu it was actually delicious, due to the last minute judgement on seasoning by my sister.

Parsnip mash
-Put 2 parsnips peeled and chopped into evenish chunks, on to boil for about 20 minutes or just until they are tender.
- when they are done and drained, mash them up gradually, adding double cream bit by bit and a pinch of salt and bit of grated nutmeg. When the mash has reached a consistency you like, stir through a knob of butter letting its melt slowly in and serve.

When we'd finished eating I recieved the above title in a text from a friend that I'd invited to dinner. awesome.

food fight

I am paid a visit by my friend who is struggling to honour her commitment to vegetarianism - to which I am aggressively opposed.
She sighs, " if only everyone on the planet would stop eating cows there would be no drought and no famine.
I say, "if only you would stop eating all the best bits of leftover beef in my fridge."
In an attempt to avoid a fight, (nothing pretty about a hypocritical activist and a carnivorous barbarian scrapping on the floor) we settle on eating a nourishing soup made with a gnarly bit of celeriac - which is just exotic enough in this house to be considered a treat for me on a par with, say, a slice of salami.

celeriac and apple soup:
1 potato
1 apple
1/2 celeriac
2 bay leaves
3 juniper berries
handful of chopped sage
Salt and pepper
splash of sherry
chicken stock cube


- Fry finely chopped onion in a walnut sized knob of butter and a small splash of oil.
- when the onion has softened slightly, add in the (peeled and cubed) vegetables and fry them for about 6 minutes making sure they don't get stuck to the pan and burn.
- add the sherry, then throw in the bay, sage, juniper, salt and pepper.
- while this is sizzling away mix up a stock cube in abut a pint of boiling water and pour that in slowly.
- bring to the boil and let it simmer on its own for about 20 minutes or until you're satisfied that everything is cooked through. (or your vegetarian friend is so ravenous she is threatening cannibalism)
- blitz the soup to a consistency you like and serve.

Brand new chicken

Maudie:

We usually roast a chicken about once a week, and while it everyone's favourite meal (Bread Sauce! Bread Sauce!) it becomes very uninspiring to cook it the same way again and again. I found an interesting recipe in the Moro cookbook and decided to try it out despite the fact that only two of us would be eating as everyone else refused to come home.

SamandSam use a Turkish cheese called Labneh but assure us that you can get the same effect by mixing equal measures of natural yoghurt and cream cheese.

So, into the fake labneh (only just scraped together from the darkest depths of the fridge) I stirred; a fat clove of garlic smashed into a paste with a couple of pinches of salt, a handful of chopped up sage leaves and some smokey paprika, as well as a maverick addition of a few ground smoked peppercorns. this mix then gets stuffed under the skin of the chicken, and over the thighs as much as you can fit it in without shuddering - it is one of the most disturbing sensations in the world massaging yoghurt into a naked chicken. You may need to sew the ends together with toothpicks to keep the stuffing in.

This then roasts in the oven for 2 hours on gas mark 7. It is wonderful. We had ours with fried sliced potatoes and a salad, but samandsam recommend spinach and bulghar wheat. Too sensible for us on a weeknight. Or any night.

Reincarnation Dinner

Maudie:

The "lads" are over again and trudging around the house smoking fags and mixing drum tracks for their "album". Occasionally they come into the kitchen with a glazed expression and open and close the cupboards helplessly. I know they are hungry but won't admit it and can't work out the logistical nightmare of cooking for themselves in someone else's kitchen. So I decide to make them a vat of pasta.

When the labour of love is finished and I stand at the bottom of the stairs calling like a dinner lady from a fifties sitcom, it becomes clear that they have gone to McDonalds drive-thru instead. I eat a 1/6 of the pasta.

When Mum gets back that evening she finds my sister struck down by a bout of flu, and reforms my tragic forgotten lunch into a warm and comforting pasta bake, with some fried sausage meat and extra cheese on top.

Next day, my sister's mysterious illness is so life-threateningly serious that she can't go to school and instead spreads herself over all the sofas and watches x-factor, groaning.

As a cure, the pasta bake is evolved into a nourishing life-giving soup, by the addition of some chicken stock.
Next morning, the magic has rubbed off and my sister has been resurrected, once more a healthy, school-worthy person. Miracle.