A year or so back The Dear Leader (cursed be her detractors) bought me a vegan cookbook. It was written by the chef who catered for a week-long event she attended. Interested though I may be in the topic, I have not cooked a single thing from it, as just about every recipe requires 20+ ingredients, several of which I've never heard of. I prefer to keep things simple.
Take a dish we ate yesterday: pasta with unpasteurised butter and a load of grated Parmesan. Ready in about 10 minutes, and delicious. We love pasta putanesca too - crushed garlic and chopped chili warmed in oil, with plenty of salt. Another 10-minute wonder. Given we have a healthy crop of chilies this year, we'll be revisiting that plenty of times.
Simple does not have to be quick, of course. I am writing this while waiting for some bread dough to finish rising for the second time. That was made with flour, water, yeast and salt, basic ingredients, but it takes time and patience and a bit of experience to avoid disaster.
As I've written before, it's sad that a life-skill as important as cooking isn't included in the education of many (all) our kids in the UK. It would take just a few lessons a year to teach them some building-block recipes. How to make a soup from scratch; pancakes, great for a quick pud, but the basis of some fine savoury dishes too; a simple tomato sauce for pasta, and the proper way to cook the pasta itself; maybe how to cook (without buying the sauce) a potato and veg curry; how to make an ordinary vinaigrette dressing for salad...
Simplicity itself, and satisfying to the soul and the stomach. Not to mention the benefit to the national purse of reducing what appears to be our growing reliance on unhealthy takeaways and ready meals, so saving the NHS billions from their long-term effects.
Monday, 21 October 2019
Wednesday, 16 October 2019
Not Vegetarian Exactly
Since The Dear Leader (may those who oppose her crumble into dust) became 98.75% vegetarian I have thoroughly enjoyed the challenge of cooking what I hope is interesting food that fits the bill. Given the alternative was banishment to the ice planet Hoth, that's good.
Our regular 600 kcals Monday is a reminder of the bang you get for your vegetable (and fruit) buck. One dish in the evening was a real winner, roast butternut squash with orange segments and thinly sliced onions, served as a warm salad with the orange juice and two teaspoons of olive oil as a dressing. It will appear again on a non-fast day.
I often now envy what TDL gets served as a vegetarian when we are out and about: last weekend at Higham Hall the food I had was well cooked but frankly rather dull - basically meat and gravy, two veg, spuds; on the Saturday she had a nut roast that smelled wonderful, receiving the thumbs up from the supreme ruler. This evening she is at an event in Manchester complete with full fig dinner, and I'm fascinated to find out what they will give her, partly because it's often so much more imaginative than the corporate rubber chicken or overdone beef; partly because I am happy to nick good ideas for the future.
That said, Sternest Critic and I will be having a very blokey blowout tonight - well-matured Aberdeen Angus ribeye; mushrooms; corn on the cob; peas; tomatoes; and an avocado as a starter. I don't want to give up the pleasure, and the health benefits (B12 fix, zinc, etc), of occasional carnivorous indulgence. But it will be noted that where once we'd also have been enjoying sausage, kidneys and a chop with our steak as a mixed grill male meal the bulk of what we're getting outside tonight is vegetable - and if you're picky about toms and avos, fruit. And grain for the corn. And fungi for the 'shrooms. It isn't meat anyway.
Our regular 600 kcals Monday is a reminder of the bang you get for your vegetable (and fruit) buck. One dish in the evening was a real winner, roast butternut squash with orange segments and thinly sliced onions, served as a warm salad with the orange juice and two teaspoons of olive oil as a dressing. It will appear again on a non-fast day.
I often now envy what TDL gets served as a vegetarian when we are out and about: last weekend at Higham Hall the food I had was well cooked but frankly rather dull - basically meat and gravy, two veg, spuds; on the Saturday she had a nut roast that smelled wonderful, receiving the thumbs up from the supreme ruler. This evening she is at an event in Manchester complete with full fig dinner, and I'm fascinated to find out what they will give her, partly because it's often so much more imaginative than the corporate rubber chicken or overdone beef; partly because I am happy to nick good ideas for the future.
That said, Sternest Critic and I will be having a very blokey blowout tonight - well-matured Aberdeen Angus ribeye; mushrooms; corn on the cob; peas; tomatoes; and an avocado as a starter. I don't want to give up the pleasure, and the health benefits (B12 fix, zinc, etc), of occasional carnivorous indulgence. But it will be noted that where once we'd also have been enjoying sausage, kidneys and a chop with our steak as a mixed grill male meal the bulk of what we're getting outside tonight is vegetable - and if you're picky about toms and avos, fruit. And grain for the corn. And fungi for the 'shrooms. It isn't meat anyway.
Tuesday, 15 October 2019
Exotic Preston
OK, so Preston is not exotic. But in our Preston garden (and greenhouses) we are growing things that some in the UK would consider exotic. We do this for the sheer fun of it, the challenge without danger, and the pleasure of eating, fresh, things that normally come from hundreds or thousands of miles away.
This morning we ate the first of our Physalis/Cape Gooseberry) 'crop.' We had one each in our morning bowl of fresh fruit. One. Like the dolts who win the lottery and change nothing, we are not going to let it affect our lifestyle. Doing this (not just the Physalis, but the other exotics we grow) clearly is not in any way economically viable (that plant cost quite a bit), though by (minutely) reducing our carbon footprint it may be environmentally so. But even with just one apiece it was worth it in taste terms - they were sharper, 'fruitier,' simply better than what we buy from the supermarket.
The same thing most definitely applies to the lemons we grow. Though this year it was lemon, singular. Used in G&Ts it was zingier, several steps up the citric ladder. A friend and neighbour has been doing this for longer, and her harvest is a good bagful of fruits every year, so we hope our tree will become more productive in the not too distant.
It has to be acknowledged that some of the fun of growing such things is the showing off. So I'm going to do a bit (more) of that now by listing a few: we will shortly be harvesting a few tomatillos; the next flush of Physalis will be ready in a week or thereabouts; though this year we have had no fruits, we have had limes and apricots in the past, and the trees are looking healthy; we had one delicious fig a month back. If chilies count as exotic (and they probably don't) then we can add them to the list - this year, starting from seed, we have grown a dozen plants or so and harvested scores already (some dried for later, some eaten fresh) with hundreds to come. They're the exception to the economic viability rule, a £1 pack of seeds yielding several pounds-worth of fruits. But they also demonstrate the culinary advantages of this activity - we have purple, red, yellow and green ones; some are fruity and mild; some hot as Hades; and some have rather thicker flesh than anything in the supermarket packets, tempting you to damn the burn and just eat them like fruits.
Ever the optimists we have other projects on the go: Morels and truffles (though they may never appear) in two spots of the garden; two Szechuan pepper plants looking very healthy indeed; and our Kiwis. Ah, our Kiwis. One vine is about 12 feet high, has been established for maybe eight or nine years, looks great, and has never yet produced a fruit. It was sold as self-fertile, but clearly isn't, so we've now bought two others (belt and braces) of different types in the hope that one day... Ever the optimists indeed.
This morning we ate the first of our Physalis/Cape Gooseberry) 'crop.' We had one each in our morning bowl of fresh fruit. One. Like the dolts who win the lottery and change nothing, we are not going to let it affect our lifestyle. Doing this (not just the Physalis, but the other exotics we grow) clearly is not in any way economically viable (that plant cost quite a bit), though by (minutely) reducing our carbon footprint it may be environmentally so. But even with just one apiece it was worth it in taste terms - they were sharper, 'fruitier,' simply better than what we buy from the supermarket.
The same thing most definitely applies to the lemons we grow. Though this year it was lemon, singular. Used in G&Ts it was zingier, several steps up the citric ladder. A friend and neighbour has been doing this for longer, and her harvest is a good bagful of fruits every year, so we hope our tree will become more productive in the not too distant.
It has to be acknowledged that some of the fun of growing such things is the showing off. So I'm going to do a bit (more) of that now by listing a few: we will shortly be harvesting a few tomatillos; the next flush of Physalis will be ready in a week or thereabouts; though this year we have had no fruits, we have had limes and apricots in the past, and the trees are looking healthy; we had one delicious fig a month back. If chilies count as exotic (and they probably don't) then we can add them to the list - this year, starting from seed, we have grown a dozen plants or so and harvested scores already (some dried for later, some eaten fresh) with hundreds to come. They're the exception to the economic viability rule, a £1 pack of seeds yielding several pounds-worth of fruits. But they also demonstrate the culinary advantages of this activity - we have purple, red, yellow and green ones; some are fruity and mild; some hot as Hades; and some have rather thicker flesh than anything in the supermarket packets, tempting you to damn the burn and just eat them like fruits.
Ever the optimists we have other projects on the go: Morels and truffles (though they may never appear) in two spots of the garden; two Szechuan pepper plants looking very healthy indeed; and our Kiwis. Ah, our Kiwis. One vine is about 12 feet high, has been established for maybe eight or nine years, looks great, and has never yet produced a fruit. It was sold as self-fertile, but clearly isn't, so we've now bought two others (belt and braces) of different types in the hope that one day... Ever the optimists indeed.
Monday, 14 October 2019
Wild, Go Wild, Go Wild Mushrooming in the Country - and at Higham Hall
The Dear Leader (may her enemies dissolve into the earth) and I just spent a very pleasant weekend at (and around) Higham Hall in the Lakes. For years we've been saying we'd like to know more about the fungi we see on our walks, and finally got around to doing something about it with an introductory course on the topic.
Knowledge of both what and where is clearly vital with this, and course leader Paul had both. He took us to three sites in all, where - with care being taken to be environmentally friendly about the gathering - we picked a surprisingly wide range of fungi, edible and otherwise (though I do like the proverb that all mushrooms are edible, but some only once...). We learned how to identify the genus, and from that to refer to textbooks and identify precisely which fungi we'd found. It was a treasure hunt and a field trip. Given we picked and later identified examples of several fungi that could potentially kill anyone eating them, it was a stark reminder of how dangerous a field (and forest!) this can be.
On the Saturday evening we tasted four of the best edible fungi found that day, suitably prepared by the Hall's cook, and very enjoyable they were too: best for me the chanterelles; then the shaggy inkcap (before it had chance to turn unpleasant), the hedgehog fungus, and a poor last some chunks of puffball.
In future I'll be confident of identifying the chanterelle in particular, if we come across them (and we will be looking), having had the chance to compare it with the species with which it could most easily be confused (the false chanterelle - and that at worst would cause a bit of tummy upset, and learning what nasty others could be taken for it), and to cook and eat them. Probably the hedgehog and the shaggy inkcap too - I wouldn't bother with the puffball again on culinary grounds. If you have not both been on such a course and got the right books to hand, you should not even think of trying to do the same. THIS IS ABSOLUTELY NOT SOMETHING TO JUST 'GIVE A GO'!!!
Knowledge of both what and where is clearly vital with this, and course leader Paul had both. He took us to three sites in all, where - with care being taken to be environmentally friendly about the gathering - we picked a surprisingly wide range of fungi, edible and otherwise (though I do like the proverb that all mushrooms are edible, but some only once...). We learned how to identify the genus, and from that to refer to textbooks and identify precisely which fungi we'd found. It was a treasure hunt and a field trip. Given we picked and later identified examples of several fungi that could potentially kill anyone eating them, it was a stark reminder of how dangerous a field (and forest!) this can be.
On the Saturday evening we tasted four of the best edible fungi found that day, suitably prepared by the Hall's cook, and very enjoyable they were too: best for me the chanterelles; then the shaggy inkcap (before it had chance to turn unpleasant), the hedgehog fungus, and a poor last some chunks of puffball.
In future I'll be confident of identifying the chanterelle in particular, if we come across them (and we will be looking), having had the chance to compare it with the species with which it could most easily be confused (the false chanterelle - and that at worst would cause a bit of tummy upset, and learning what nasty others could be taken for it), and to cook and eat them. Probably the hedgehog and the shaggy inkcap too - I wouldn't bother with the puffball again on culinary grounds. If you have not both been on such a course and got the right books to hand, you should not even think of trying to do the same. THIS IS ABSOLUTELY NOT SOMETHING TO JUST 'GIVE A GO'!!!
Friday, 4 October 2019
Jamie Oliver Has Good Idea Shock
There are some TV chefs (cooks is a more accurate word for most) I actually like - HF-W, for one. There are others - Nigella 'another bucket of cream please' Lawson, and Jamie 'fry it pukka fella' Oliver - I cannot abide. Strange then that reading a recent JO recipe gave me a headstart on what proved to be an excellent dish.
Probably on the BBC website, or maybe The Guardian (he's a Londoner so The Guardian - to which I subscribe btw - acknowledges his existence, unlike restaurants outside the M25) I read what was clearly a plug (surely not) for his recent discovery of vegetables. Doesn't he know HF-W planted his flag on such produce some time ago, even introducing common people to them? The recipe used lentils with other ingredients to make a non-meat basis for shepherd's/cottage pie (the end result more like cottage to my mind, for what it's worth).
Sternest Critic having been welcomed back to the fold with a huge T-bone steak on Wednesday (he's been off teaching diving in foreign climes), Thursday was his introduction to our present mainly vegetarian regime. Without the recipe to hand I worked from general principles and vague recollection: the 'meat' base was made with lentils (cooked from dried), to which diced carrots, fried onions red and white, garlic, chopped mushrooms, tomato puree, tomato sauce, smoked paprika, and - JO's good idea - some Marmite were added. I overdid the Marmite, as The Dear Leader (may her enemies writhe in eternal pain) pointed out, perfectly correctly (as if it needs saying). The lid was made with potatoes, parsnip and turnip, mashed with some grated cheddar and mezzo-luna-ed parsley, and a layer of grated cheddar put on top to finish it - and when that had browned up in the oven the pie was ready.
Normally I'm one for not substituting stuff for meat in vegetarian cooking - let the veggies speak for themselves - but this mixture made for a meaty texture, and was very savoury. Marmite has B12, so addresses one of my concerns about cutting out/back on meat and fish. It also imparts a terrific umami taste. But I added a bit too much, and it slightly overshadowed the lentils. Nil desperandum, it will be corrected next time, and there will be a next time, as it was enjoyed by all. Trouble was, we struggled to find a name for it: Crofter's Pie? Smallholder's Pie? Cheaty Meatless Pie?
Probably on the BBC website, or maybe The Guardian (he's a Londoner so The Guardian - to which I subscribe btw - acknowledges his existence, unlike restaurants outside the M25) I read what was clearly a plug (surely not) for his recent discovery of vegetables. Doesn't he know HF-W planted his flag on such produce some time ago, even introducing common people to them? The recipe used lentils with other ingredients to make a non-meat basis for shepherd's/cottage pie (the end result more like cottage to my mind, for what it's worth).
Sternest Critic having been welcomed back to the fold with a huge T-bone steak on Wednesday (he's been off teaching diving in foreign climes), Thursday was his introduction to our present mainly vegetarian regime. Without the recipe to hand I worked from general principles and vague recollection: the 'meat' base was made with lentils (cooked from dried), to which diced carrots, fried onions red and white, garlic, chopped mushrooms, tomato puree, tomato sauce, smoked paprika, and - JO's good idea - some Marmite were added. I overdid the Marmite, as The Dear Leader (may her enemies writhe in eternal pain) pointed out, perfectly correctly (as if it needs saying). The lid was made with potatoes, parsnip and turnip, mashed with some grated cheddar and mezzo-luna-ed parsley, and a layer of grated cheddar put on top to finish it - and when that had browned up in the oven the pie was ready.
Normally I'm one for not substituting stuff for meat in vegetarian cooking - let the veggies speak for themselves - but this mixture made for a meaty texture, and was very savoury. Marmite has B12, so addresses one of my concerns about cutting out/back on meat and fish. It also imparts a terrific umami taste. But I added a bit too much, and it slightly overshadowed the lentils. Nil desperandum, it will be corrected next time, and there will be a next time, as it was enjoyed by all. Trouble was, we struggled to find a name for it: Crofter's Pie? Smallholder's Pie? Cheaty Meatless Pie?
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