I am not a fan of fusion cooking. Neither the imaginary version involving a nuclear-powered stove, nor the one where a chef tries to meld cuisines from radically different cultures and geographic locations. A bit of borrowing works, but pak choi with a red wine sauce and turmeric meringues doesn't. Nor am I one to experiment too radically with new (to me) combinations. But last night one (rather timid) attempt at introducing otherwise normally unconnected ingredients worked beautifully.
Pressed for time having returned from the cinema (The Equalizer 2 - not as good as the first one, but still a pleasing romp for a wet Sunday evening) we were to have the legs left over from the previous night's roast chicken - cooked by the Dear Leader no less (may her enemies shrivel like raisins) as I had been doing macho decorating stuff all day, and absolutely delicious - with a tomato salad, and needed something vegetal as a starter.
With kohlrabi aplenty at the moment I wanted to use some of that, so peeled and sliced two (raw) with a potato peeler into see-through circles (the secret is holding it with a fork so no blood is added involuntarily); cut thin slices of goat's cheese on top; crumbled some walnuts; and added a good handful of tiny basil leaves picked fresh from the plant. Dressed with walnut oil and cider vinegar, along with sea salt, it looked fabulous - which is a good start - and the four forthright flavours worked as well together as a string quartet.
That point about how it looked is important, more so for restaurants than the home, but still helpful in getting the gastric juices flowing. It actually looked good enough to cost £7.50 on a posh eaterie's menu. The dressing was not artfully drizzled in zig-zag patterns, there was no bloody silly lavender biscuit or similar to accompany it, but nonetheless looked fit for the commercial table. It also cost maybe £1 for two servings. When we arrived at the cinema around 6pm we passed a lengthy queue at the nearby McD's, where others were getting their treat of fat, sugar and carbs for rather more than that. Each to his or her own.
Showing posts with label basil. Show all posts
Showing posts with label basil. Show all posts
Monday, 20 August 2018
Monday, 24 September 2012
Beating Squirrels
Beating squirrels is not some brutally inhumane conduct towards furry creatures (though grey squirrels as the saying goes are just rats with good PR), but getting to our cobnut crop this year before the little sods raided our plot. Last year we harvested precisely zero, as Nutkin and his posse made off with the lot.
Not a huge crop this year, however, as along with our apple trees and pear the three nut bushes (they call it nut bush, oh! nut bush etc, thanks Tina) were devastated by the high winds and downpours all summer.
What we did gather on Saturday was processed that afternoon, a pleasant task while listening to the radio. We got about 100g of shelled cobs. Never mind. The milky nuts were blitzed in a spice grinder, as was about 150g of home-grown parsley and basil (the basil was perhaps a quarter of the mix, but dominated the flavour), three garlic cloves and some sea-salt, the lot mixed with a load of grated Parmesan and some olive oil to make a nice soft consistency. DIY pesto, enough for a pasta dish for three of us that evening - so simple, so good - and to 3/4 fill a jar, the pesto covered with a layer of additional oil, to keep in the fridge.
Part of Ruth's packed lunch today is a very wet bean and tomato salad with a huge blob of pesto to enliven it, and the rest will not go to waste. It is not something I'd want to eat every day, or even every week, but as a seasonal boon it's great, and I am happy to have used up the lot. Two years ago we picked far more, but only ate a few as nibbles once they had dried out and hardened, the rest left for another day that never came. That's one of the lessons we are gradually learning, that you can only eat something once, so you might as well enjoy it at its best.
In monetary terms taking the Parmesan as bought (it was actually a gift from a recent press trip), it and the olive oil would have cost well under £1, while a jar of purchased pesto that size (roughly 400g) would have cost I'd guess £4 or more. And as ours is super-fresh and far more garlicky than shop-bought I reckon it has the edge on taste too.
Not a huge crop this year, however, as along with our apple trees and pear the three nut bushes (they call it nut bush, oh! nut bush etc, thanks Tina) were devastated by the high winds and downpours all summer.
What we did gather on Saturday was processed that afternoon, a pleasant task while listening to the radio. We got about 100g of shelled cobs. Never mind. The milky nuts were blitzed in a spice grinder, as was about 150g of home-grown parsley and basil (the basil was perhaps a quarter of the mix, but dominated the flavour), three garlic cloves and some sea-salt, the lot mixed with a load of grated Parmesan and some olive oil to make a nice soft consistency. DIY pesto, enough for a pasta dish for three of us that evening - so simple, so good - and to 3/4 fill a jar, the pesto covered with a layer of additional oil, to keep in the fridge.
Part of Ruth's packed lunch today is a very wet bean and tomato salad with a huge blob of pesto to enliven it, and the rest will not go to waste. It is not something I'd want to eat every day, or even every week, but as a seasonal boon it's great, and I am happy to have used up the lot. Two years ago we picked far more, but only ate a few as nibbles once they had dried out and hardened, the rest left for another day that never came. That's one of the lessons we are gradually learning, that you can only eat something once, so you might as well enjoy it at its best.
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