An early Christmas present from Celia at Purple Podded Peas. The most cheering sort of present ... continue reading, at my new blog, An English Kitchen
Luxurious way with lentils. We ate this with chunks of squash roasted with herbs and orange zest. Horatio said it would have been nicer with chicken, but he's a well-known lentil hater.
200g Puy lentils
1 finely chopped onion
1 clove finely chopped garlic
juice of an orange
1 tbsp balsamic vinegar
2-3 tbsp creme fraiche
Cook the lentils (about 20-30 minutes, depending on their age). Drain, but keep the water, which will be thick and black.
At the same time, fry the onion until it is soft, then add the garlic and keep cooking for five more minutes. Add the orange juice, vinegar, creme fraiche and a little blackwater (start with 1-2 tbsp). Warm through, then add the lentils. Taste and season.
Because my blog is my kitchen notebook, and because I keep having to look up these recipes ... and because, if you think you can't make pastry, these just may transform your baking (they have mine).
1. Shortcrust pastry
200g STRONG flour
100g unsalted butter
1 egg
1 tbsp water
Blitz all in the processor until it forms a ball.
This is enough to line a 23cm tart tin, but it goes a great deal further if you roll it at room temperature and then chill it. It doesn't seem to make any difference to the finished pastry. Chill for half an hour, and bake blind before filling.
2. Sweet shortcrust
250g flour (I use strong flour for this, too; it's a kind of superstition, and I do not know if the gluten is responsible for my success with these pastries)
125g unsalted butter
85g caster sugar
1 egg
Proceed as for shortcrust.
3. Frangipane
This is enough to spread on a 23cm tart tin (or 6 individual tarts). You can either spread jam underneath, or arrange fruit on top.
50g softened unsalted butter
50g caster sugar
1 egg
50g plain flour
Blitz to a soft cream.
Bake at 160C for 20-25 minutes.
Last week, the Observer Food Magazine published its top 50 cookbooks. This week, Joanna's Food presents its own top 25. Very difficult indeed to choose - in the final cut, I lost Elisabeth Luard, Michael Smith, Sarah Raven, Claire Macdonald of Macdonald, Ballymaloe and Pomiane. AND I've had to cheat by including more than one book by some people. Also, the order at the bottom end is a little haphazard. And, yes, I know there's no Chinese food (Fuschia Dunlop? Kenneth Hom?) or Indian (Madhur Jaffrey, obviously), but we don't eat them often enough to justify a whole place in the top 25.
I'm surprised that there are (I think) four telly chefs, although only one (HFW) was discovered by me through the medium of television, and I haven't seen all of them on TV. More than half these books have no or very few photographs.
25. Mary Berry's Ultimate Cake Book. This actually belongs to Eleanor, but she has abandoned both it and cake-making.
24. Tamasin Day-Lewis, Tamasin's Kitchen Bible. She can be annoyingly prescriptive about stuff that is none of her business (I neither want nor can afford wild salmon at all times), but this book lives up to its name. The quiche lorraine is to die for.
23. Anna del Conte, The Classic Food of Northern Italy. I was brought up with this food in England in the 1950s and 60s because my grandparents, who had met in Italy during WW1, had a succession of lovely Italian cooks.
22. Pam Corbin's River Cottage Preserves. If you're making jam, this book is so much better than the rest (about 10 in this house) that I'm going to chuck out most of them.
21. Robert Carrier, Great Dishes of the World. In my early 20s I lived in Pimlico, close to an Italian deli that was our late-night corner shop. Carrier's book - the height of 70s sophistication - was very useful for unfamiliar ingredients. I wowed many with the taramasalata - utterly unknown then, before the advent of that pink stuff supermarkets sell. And I had to make the pitta, too.
20. Diana Henry, Cook Simple. The inspirational Crazy Water Pickled Lemons is the more obvious choice, but Cook Simple is the one I actually refer to, particularly when I'm in a hurry.
19. Frances Bissell, The Scented Kitchen. Flowers in your food. Way beyond a few pansy and nasturtium petals in the salad. Utterly lovely.
18. Elizabeth David, Summer Cooking. VERY hard to choose. I have all her books, and consult them frequently, mostly for reading pleasure and history. This is the one with the food stains.
17. Jane Grigson, Fruit. But let's be clear, I also want The Vegetable Book. And probably the one about charcuterie too. The only reason it's not English Cookery is because of my 7th choice.
16. Rick Stein, English Fish Cookery. I think my copy says it's by Richard Stein. Anyway, it predates his telly work, and, these days, you have to use it in consultation with Marine Conservation Society lists of endangered fish.
15. Yottam Ottolenghi, Plenty. So delicious, so glamorous.
14. Michael Pollan, In Defence of Food. I know it's not a cookery book, but cooks can no longer ignore the bigger picture. Although the specifics are American, Pollan writes about real food with more immediacy than anyone else. And besides, at the end, he gives a very useful recipe for good eating: "Eat Food. Not too Much. Mostly plants.
13. Claudia Roden, The Book of Jewish Food. And Arabesque. Both full of things you want to eat. The now ubiquitous orange/almond cake originated here; it's one of my winter staples. It's also one of the best history books in the house (and there are significantly more history books here than cookery books).
12. Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall, Meat. I live amongst carnivores. My copy falls open at the gravy-splattered section on roasting.
11. Caroline Blackwood & Anna Haycraft, Darling you shouldn't have gone to so much trouble. This was a life-saver when my children were tiny; if it's out of print, it shouldn't be, as it hasn't dated. The Earl of Gowrie's fowl is typically delicious: you put Boursin in the cavity of a pheasant and roast it. The sauce makes itself.
10. Paula Wolfert, Mediterranean Clay Pot Cooking. Better than all her others (Morocco/Gascony), and that is saying something. History, technique, original research, delicious food.
9. Jennifer Paterson, Feast Days. One fat lady, her pre-telly columns from The Spectator, full of prejudices and non sequiturs, larded with saints, as good to re-read as they were in the first place. Lots to cook, even if her infallible method for poached eggs (say the Hail Mary) turns out to be useless.
8.Felicity and Roald Dahl, Roald Dahl's Cookbook. One of the few "lifestyle" books in the list. Mrs D's stunning woodcuts, photos of the garden (which I have visited and which really does look like that) ... and lovely, lovely food.
7. Caroline Conran, British Cooking. Ignore the fact that this is a Marks and Spencer book. Comprehensive, clear, CC really knows her stuff. The photographs have that 1970s brown quality - but the food doesn't.
6. Fergus Henderson, Nose to Tail, I & II. It's only polite.
5. Ann & Franco Taruschio, Leaves from the Walnut Tree. The only thing I dislike about this book is the lingering regret that I never ate at the Walnut Tree while it was run by the Taruschios.
4. Patience Gray, Honey from a Weed. Rather more likeable than Elizabeth David, perhaps because she reveals more of her slightly rackety life in the Mediterranean. But only slightly - this is no kiss and tell memoir.
3. Nigella Lawson, How to Eat. My copy is dropping to bits. And when it does, I will go out and buy another.
2. Andrew Whitley, Bread Matters. I should throw out all the other baking books, really. Superlative.
1. Geraldene Holt, French Country Cooking. I've cooked more from this book than any other. I've learnt more from Geraldene Holt about cooking, baking, gardening, living well (not just in a material sense) than from all the others on this list. Memorable dishes: creme bachique, the shaken pastry, a good daube, faux-filet with Roquefort, delicious braised leeks ... and now I've found a courgette and sorrel recipe which will be good with the chicken roasting in the oven for today's lunch.
The quickest and best way to make redcurrant jelly, so that the flavour of the fruit shines through. Can't believe I've never posted this before, but I couldn't find it when a friend asked for the recipe. It comes via Jane Grigson, from her Fruit Book, so I'm quoting her direct:
Run a thin layer of water over the base of the preserving pan, then put an equal weight of red currants - no need to remove the stalks - and sugar. Stir and heat slowly until the sugar has dissolved, then raise the heat and boil hard for 8 minutes. Tip out onto a sieve set over a bowl, or into a jelly bag, and pour the resulting liquid into small pots.
I always use a fine plastic sieve.
Lovely party in the beautiful ballroom at the Irish Embassy in London, a house which used to belong to the Guinness family ...
A group of bloggers was given a masterclass in food styling and photography by Alastair Hendy - author, chef, photographer, stylist (he doesn't seem to have a website so sadly I can't give you a link to his wonderful photographs).
Here's Alastair's "holy trinity" of things to think about: the look (ie the styling), the light (which will make or break any photo), and the lens (seduction by depth of field and point of focus). Suddenly I'm looking at Alastair's images in a different way.
After Alastair's talk, we were given a chance to take pictures. Alastair provided the props, and the food was provided by BordBia, the Irish food board. Lovely produce, in four groups - seafood, cheeses, puds, booze.
Alistair takes all his pictures in natural light, avoiding bright sunlight, and never using flash. So you'll see bloggers working by the window, and using reflectors - not expensive camera shop reflectors, but ones made of cardboard and cooking foil.
This picture was taken at some distance from the window, with a foil reflector to one side (similar to what's going on in the one above). Even before we get on to the question of artistic merit, it's no good - I didn't spot the creases in the tablecloth. It's an illustration of what, for me, was the main photographic lesson of the evening: the camera sees things differently to the way we see them, so images need to be planned, not casually snapped.
The photograph below of black pudding appetizers with samphire sums up, for me, everything that is good about Irish food: wonderful livestock, great seafood, abundant oats. Mixed farming, in other words - something we have largely forgotten about on this side of the Irish Sea.
Shocking to hear from the Ambassador how far adrift UK food production has got from reality: Eire is 666% self-sufficient in beef production, whereas the United Kingdom is a net importer of beef. It's not just Ireland that has the longest grass-growing season in the northern hemisphere - but here, in the United Kingdom, we've sidelined grass production, and that hasn't done us any good, either as individuals, or as an increasingly broke nation.
Amongst the other bloggers there were:
CookSister, Eat Like a Girl, Feast with Bron, Extra Relish, The London Foodie, Kavey Eats, 5amFoodie
PS most surprising photography tip of the evening: travelling food photographers should always take a damp cloth in a bag ... and within moments of starting work on our own pictures, what did we all need? yup, that's right
I've started a new blog, An English Kitchen. I'm not abandoning this one, I'll be using it exclusively for recipes. An English Kitchen will cover all the stuff that goes on here in the heart of our home. Today, there's baking, and I've been eating primroses. Yes, really.
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