Two New Flexible Favourites

In my last post I mentioned Ursula Ferrigno as my latest hero. Heroine? What is PC? Her books are both interesting for the Italian cultural and heritage side, and full of very cookable recipes, unlike the vegan tome the Dear Leader (eternal damnation to her enemies) kindly bought me recently, where each recipe has about 20 ingredients, some of them rarely seen in this part of Lancashire. And yes, the author looked exactly as you'd expect him to look, though as Al Gore and Bill Clinton are both vegans now, they don't all look the same. But most do. I like some vegan food, but not because it is vegan, if that makes sense. I like good food, and if it happens to be vegan, alright.


Two of Signora Ferrigno's dishes have now entered my regular repertoire. A vegetable tian, and a potato cake. Both are the sort of dishes I like - easily adapted to use alternative ingredients while sticking to the principle of the thing.


The essential tian is made with courgettes trimmed, boiled for about 12 minutes, then mashed to bits in a bowl when slightly cooled. Some short-grain rice is boiled, again cooled slightly, and added to the bowl. In too go plenty of Parmesan, a beaten egg or two, and some shredded spinach. She fries an onion and some garlic, I just bash some garlic. The Dear Leader's darkest dungeons are full of those who used three pans in cooking one thing. Mixed together, the mushy mass is seasoned and added to a flattish Le Creuset dish, topped (my touch) with more Parmesan, then baked at 180C for 35 - 45 minutes depending on how watery it began life. Fab and healthy, and with a glut of courgettes currently it is one to feature weekly for a while.


The potato cake is equally good, equally cheesy. And not vegetarian. Leftover boiled spuds are made into a sloppy mash with milk and melted butter, a Mozzarella chopped and added, plenty of grated Parmesan, and some chopped salami, along with just-cooked cubes of Pancetta. A veggie version with fried cubes of courgette (so many bloody courgettes) worked well too. In a greased pan or fireproof dish the bottom is lined with breadcrumbs, the mash etc added and flattened gently, and more breadcrumbs patted into the top. Baked for 40 minutes or so at 200C it comes out nicely browned. Put a plate over the pan, tip it up, and the cake comes out more or less intact. And it is delicious, a filler-upper that if ever it were allowed to go cold (and this would probably merit more egg in the recipe) would, cut into squares, make a fine nibble with drinks. The thought does strike one, however, that almost anything with tons of cheese, bacon and salami is likely to be a winner.


A general point from this. Dishes that are flexible are the lifeblood of the home cook. Not molecular cuisine, not painstaking measuring of precise quantities of ingredients, but an idea that will work with a snip and a tuck here and there. HF-W, another of my heroes, does tend to include variations on a theme in his books, and not be over-worried about fractions of a gramme; not really so the blessed Delia, which may be why I only turn to her at Christmas.

Free Pizza!

Ok, so not actually free. But bloody cheap, and a whole lot better than the nasty cheapo versions (and some of the dearer ones too) that the supermarkets have to offer.

I think I've posted about this before. Or written as we used to have it. The pizza base is made in my bread-maker, the recipe an adaptation of the one that its book gives - and a simple adaptation too, two tablespoons of olive oil replacing the one of melted butter in the original. This makes the dough nicely elastic, and the finished product is crisper I think.

And this is an austerity thing, with last night's three pizzas toppings included costing by my guestimate much less than £4. All were topped with tomato, a tin thereof plus a teaspoon of sugar and some salt reduced to what my accurately wife called a jam. One fishy: anchovies and little prawns, plus very thinly-sliced onion and strips of red pepper; one meaty: half a spicy chorizo sausage (I know it's Spanish but frankly don't care - and please do not pronounce it cho-ritzo or we cannot be friends), plus a liberal dusting of Parmesan and more of the same veg; and one with chicken (leftover from the weekend) and sweetcorn, plus Parmesan again. Oh, and lots of see-through-thin slices of garlic on the first two.

I don't give a tinker's that they are not 'authentic'. They were made with what we had to hand, and seemed suitable. Which probably makes them definitively peasant-fare.

The secret, which is far from secret, is to have the oven at its highest temperature, and not open it for at least 10 minutes while the pizzas (on flat metal pans) cook to crispness. When the edge is brown, they're done. And another well-known secret is that you don't need rubbery mozzarella. Good stuff is fine if you can get it, grated over the tomato or topping if you prefer, but tomato paste and a tasty topping makes for almost rustic simplicity.

I love the relaxed intimacy of eating pizza, or at least good pizza. Use a knife and fork and you look ridiculous, though we needed to with the salad afterwards. Pizza is finger-food, with finger-licking to follow.