Ricepe corner: A lightly spiced, buttery onion pilau

Let's talk rice. If I had to put my carbs in order of preference (and this is the kind of game that D and I play regularly) rice would tend to come near the bottom of the list but I love rice, I just tend to think I love bread and pasta and potatoes more. And then I eat some really nice rice and feel terrible for maligning it so. 

We had this rice with a very delicious lamb bhuna on Saturday night. I would share a picture, but I am terrible at food photography when the food is attractive, and we all know that there is nothing attractive about a plate of curry (taste aside, of course). Here is a picture of my cat instead:

She is playing in a large cardboard box here because, as any fule kno, cardboard boxes exert some sort of weird, magnetic pull on our feline friends and they tend to want to climb into them. Or, in this case, turn them into their own private fort (it was a very large box).

Anyway.

A very basic recipe (or ricepe - ha, ha) to be sure, but I like having a record of the basics. Especially side dishes - because it is attention to detail that can really make a meal. And while there is certainly nothing wrong with plain steamed rice, it's hard to get excited about.

Often, when we serve rice with a curry or a chilli, we just fork through some of D's famous green stuff (chilli and coriander chutney) which is a really quick way of taking things up a notch. But it's also nice to have a simple pilau recipe to hand to mix things up a bit - the spices are mellow and subtle and, of course, plenty of butter makes it rich and luscious.

I'm going to be honest - I think I've said this before - I just don't bother to soaking and rinsing my rice. I had a phase of doing it but I didn't really get much of a difference and it involves a) additional faff (not great for such a lazy individual) and b) being ORGANISED (which I am very much not). Hey, I know my (many and varied) limitations. Maybe I'm not doing soaking and rinsing right? 

I think this recipe originates from a blog and I can't remember which one so...apologies. I really need to remember to quote sources when I note stuff down. And, of course, Googling pilau rice doesn't really help. 

Ingredients

Tbsp vegetable oil

30g butter

Small onion, finely chopped

Tsp cumin seeds

Tsp turmeric

4 cardamom pods - lightly crushed so that the seeds are released

1/2 cinnamon stick

2 bay leaves

150g rice

225ml vegetable stock (you may need slightly more, so maybe make up 300-350 mls).

Heat the oil and half of the butter in a large pan which had a well fitting lid. Keep the heat nice and low so that when you add the onion it starts to soften and go translucent rather than colouring. Cook for around 5 minutes until soft. 

Add the dry spices and cook for a further couple of minutes until they have lost that slightly "raw" smell, then stir through the dry rice so that it is thoroughly coated in everything.

Pour in the stock. You want it to come about half a centimetre over the surface of the rice. Bring everything to a simmer and then put on the lid, turn the heat down to its lowest setting and set a 7 minute timer.

When the timer goes, turn off the heat and leave for a further 5 minutes without removing the lid.

Fluff the rice with a fork and melt through the other half of the butter. Discard the pods, stick and leaves before serving.

Foodie abroad: Gilpin Spice and Hrishi

Why yes, this does appear to have turned into an eating out blog. I am going to continue to maintain that it is just over excitement after months of captivity lockdown. And, also, we want to pump money into the catering industry. And, also, greed.

But for once there was an actual occasion at home - my beloved D's birthday (no, the beloved is not ironic. Stop laughing). And we booked a two night stay at The Gilpin, a gorgeous country house hotel situated just outside Bowness, way back at the beginning of the year. A different time, when booking a hotel and a restaurant still seemed like an odd (or certainly optimistic) thing to do. We actually stayed there before, many, many, years ago, back when it was called Gilpin Lodge and the restaurant produced the kind of lovely, elegant, slightly unassuming food served in many a country house hotel up and down the country. And very nice it was too. But it's had a bit of a revamp since then and now boasts two restaurants: Hrishi, the Michelin starred flagship, and Gilpin Spice.

The current head chef, Hrishikesh Desai, was apparently recruited via a BBC 2 programme. Although that is not to say that he is a wannabe Masterchef contestant - this chap's CV is STELLAR. An adjective which could certainly be applied to the food that he is producing through both of his outlets. 

Gilpin Spice first - we first read about this in a Jay Rayner review and have been wanting to visit ever since. It is fusion food as it should be - which is to say that while it draws from diverse culinary influences (most notably Indian and Chinese) everything tastes as if it belongs, perfectly, indubitably, inevitably, together. D was obsessed by the pani puri, tiny crispy cups filled with chickpeas and spice and tamarind:

Whereas for me, I couldn't decide whether the torched salmon in a delicate sauce of coconut and mustard seeds and turmeric was the star of the show:

Or the fabulous Singapore Paneer fry which saw the bouncy paneer thriving in a slightly sweet, slightly chilli-hot sauce alongside lots of crunchy vegetable friends. I want to re-create this at home.

Minor gripes: it's quite difficult to order the right amount of food, which is often a problem with restaurants that do sharing plates. We had two snacks, two small sharing plates and then two large sharing plates with another small plate (aloo tikki: delicious crisp-fried balls of spiced potato) in lieu of a side. This was about in line with what they recommended and it felt like too much. A pork belly large plate was just too big a portion which is not something that I say very often when it comes to pork belly. It's a shame, as it meant skipping dessert. Another thing that I do not say very often.

Also, I can't comment much on the restaurant interior because we were seated in a side room away from the main dining area and open kitchen. We felt a bit out of the way, which I am sure was not the intention; many people would have preferred the intimate space. But if I were to go again, I'd want a seat closer to the action. 

The following day we (wo)manfully managed a light breakfast but then made a tactical decision to eschew food for the rest of the day which I would recommend if you are foolish brave enough to try and tackle both restaurants in a single trip. Especially if, like us, you decide to spend most of Saturday reading and drinking coffee in the hotel lounge rather than yomping up hills. Look, it was raining, and in my wing backed arm chair, novel in one hand and delicate china in the other, I felt like a character in an Agatha Christie novel. 

Hrishi is, basically, a cross between Gilpin Spice and the aforementioned unassuming country house hotel fare. It was beautifully presented, very refined but with hints of spice and fusion creeping in, sometimes in unexpected places. Pani puri made a re-appearance, this time reimagined with cured cod, soya, honey and lime. (I suspect that D would have eaten far more of these if given the chance):

A scallop dish which served up the mollusc, both seared and ceviche, bathed in an orange, ginger and chilli dressing full of zing and allusions of spice. This was a firm favourite - I particularly loved the addition of the toasted hazelnuts and will steal this idea the next time that I cook scallops.

But the undoubted star of the show was the chicken with Chetinnad sauce and a gorgeous crispy package stuffed with leg meat, fruit and nuts. It's quite unusual to see chicken as a main course, but it rose magnificently to the occasion here, the perfect vehicle for the stunningly spiced, rich sauce, the welcome sour of the tamarind gel providing a perfect additional dimension.

I must also note here that the wine tasting menu, although costly, was one of the most interesting that we have had for a while - lots of unusual choices including a Romanian Feteasca Regala which we adored. It's never cheap to go for matching wine, and sometimes it just isn't quite worth it, but I'd definitely recommend pushing the boat out here. With the complex spicing going on in some of the dishes, it's well worth having an expert guide you on good accompaniments.

Again, the most minor of gripes: our waiter seemed genuinely put out when we asked for a cheese course. It didn't appear to be the done thing here at all. And the cheese itself was fine but not the most exciting offering in the world - I think that the restaurant has other priorities and that is fair enough. 

A fabulous two days worth of food and drink then - and all in the nicest, most civilised of settings. It's always exciting to eat the food of a chef who is creating a style that is entirely his own, and I look forward to stalking the Gilpin Spice menu and Instagram to steal ideas for dishes to recreate at home. The competition for The WW Foodie Dish of the Year (a prestigious award indeed) remains hot stuff.

Gilpin Hotel & Lake House

Crook Road

Windermere

LA23 3NE

Foodie abroad: return to Raby Hunt

You will have noticed that there have been quite a few posts recently about eating out. You might be forgiven for thinking that D and I have been eating out a lot recently; you would be right. After eighteen months of home cooking and takeaways, getting back out into the world of restaurants and multiple courses and wearing something other than pyjamas to eat has been extremely gratifying.

A couple of weeks ago, we were lucky enough to be treated to a meal at one of our old favourites, Raby Hunt just outside Darlington. We've been there a couple of times before - most recently in 2018 - and the menu has definitely evolved a bit since then to make it EVEN MORE FANTASTIC. Yes, I am shouting. That's how good it was.

As always, practically impossible to pick a highlight in the menu which heaved with influences from across the globe all delivered with the utmost of refinement. I think the majority of the party favoured the snack type dishes at the beginning - the tempura prawn has to be seen (and crunched) for the batter to be believed and the pastrami and foie gras sandwich was out of this world (and has potentially ruined all future pastrami sandwiches for me).

Tempura prawn!

Pastrami sandwich!

A frankly sinful brioche was served with the most glorious French smoked salt butter (you can buy it here - I'll be getting some in for Christmas). It was one of the nicest bread courses I think that I have ever had and I would walk back there to eat it again.

Brioche! Butter!

The chef's signature razor clam, celeriac and almond dish was still on the menu and, if anything, even more buttery and luxurious than before. I just adore this combination of textures and flavours.

Razor clam!

And another shellfish course - the lobster ravioli with sauce Americaine - was a particular favourite of mine (and I may have been caught in a sneaky finger-swipe-and-lick to ensure that not one drop of the fabulous sauce was left for the dishwasher).

Lobster ravioli!

Desserts require special mention as well. My goodness, but we have had some brilliant desserts this year. Here, we were served an amazing millefeuille with chocolate and hazelnut cremes - my Dad described this as tasting like a Ferrero Rocher and he's not altogether wrong.

Mille feuille!

And finally a Baba au Kirsch. I'm not always a big fan of boozy puddings (I like my booze in a glass, thank you) but this had just the hint of a kick tempered by the rich chantilly cream and the texture of the sponge was pure velvet.

Baba au Kirsch!

What made this experience even more special (and thank you to my lovely Mum and Dad for being kind enough to treat us) was that we were at the Chef's Table, which meant eating while watching the kitchen at work. For food obsessives like us, this is the equivalent of a backstage pass and we (well, I) was quite giddy. And we had a brief word with executive chef James Close at the end, who  recommended to us a Mexican restaurant in Durham which we will go and check out in due course.

Yet another fantastic experience then - 2021 is shaping up, in its latter half, to be a veritable embarrassment of riches in terms of dining out.. As D pointed out to me as we drove away the next morning, replete and a little bit sleepy, it's going to make picking my dishes of the year an incredibly hard task. What a lovely, lovely problem to have.

Foodie abroad: return to Inver

It's been less than a year since I last wrote about Restaurant Inver and I don't wish to repeat myself, but I can't allow the meal that we had there a fortnight ago to not go unmarked on this blog which, aside from anything else, is a much loved personal record for D and me of great food and great memories. As far as food and memories go, this last trip to Inver, the little restaurant on the shores of Loch Fyne, was up there with some of the best.

Full disclaimer: we were there to celebrate our tenth (tenth!) wedding anniversary. We were predisposed to be happy. We had a bottle of champagne in the room before dinner. And, as I've pondered fairly recently - has lockdown deprived me of any critical faculty I ever had with regards to eating out? I feel like I've been very effusive of late! But I stand by my assertion that Inver is one of my very favourite places to eat, and I think it is getting better every time we go. 

We started with cocktails and snacks in the cosy bar area, the best of which was some tiny cockles, suspended within their shells in a zingy lemon and fennel jelly. Although a special mention should also go to the miso hazelnut dip that accompanied the raw vegetables; anything that has D tucking into raw veg is worthy of note. Sometimes the “snack” section of a tasting menu can be substantial such that you arrive at the meal proper wondering if you have the capacity for anymore. Inver have got the knack of preparing perfectly judged morsels that deliver on flavour, texture and interest without taking up too much precious room.

 

Cockles!

And for said meal proper, we moved to the dining room, to a table looking out over the darkening loch and an offering of sourdough that was crunchy of crust and springy of bread. Perfect for dunking in the first course (one of my favourites): a tomato broth with cumin seed butter. Now I am never one for a soup course, but this was an absolute flavour bomb – buttery, rich, a hint of elusive spice and sweet-sour notes from the tomato.

And there were more treats to follow – D’s favourite course of torched mackerel with nasturtium and a loose textured, deeply savoury venison sausage which popped up on the main were particular highlights. But then we came to pudding.

Mackerel!

Now, I am not a fussy eater. There are very few things in the world that I truly dislike and would struggle to eat. But among those things is rice pudding. I just cannot get on board with rice pudding. It makes me shudder just to think about it. With a tasting menu, you accept that you just have to eat what you are given (allergies aside) but my heart sank a little when I saw that we would be having a fig leaf and ricotta rice pudding with fig and walnut and burnt honey sorbet (honey! Another ingredient that isn’t at the top of my favourites list.) D was so convinced that he would have to manfully plough his way through two desserts that he eschewed the cheese course.

In retrospect, this was a real shame. It turns out that when rice pudding is as light and creamy as this, and sits on top of a rich compote of figs and walnuts that is redolent of all of the spices of Christmas, and there is a crunch of toasted coconut on the top, and a sorbet tastes like the very best honeycomb, then it turns out that I like it. As D pointed out, the texture of the rice pudding itself was atypical – we think the rice had almost completely broken down as the texture was quite silky. As part of the whole, it worked beautifully. I’m not going to call myself a rice pudding convert because I think very few rice puddings will ever present and eat like that. But it was an absolute dream of a dessert in terms of marrying wonderful textures and flavours and I have seldom been so happy to be proved wrong.

Rice pudding!

Other notes: we think that Inver used to do a matching wine flight but that appears to have been knocked on the head, which is not really the end of the world since the wine list is thoughtful both in range and price points. We are both bitterly regretful that we missed out on not only the cheese course but the marvellous picnic breakfast the next morning (we had to leave early to catch a ferry and the kitchen very kindly did us a sandwich lunch to take with us which was really above and beyond). If you find yourself here, do NOT make our mistakes.

And I hope that someone that comes across this blog entry does make the trip because it is well worth it. Look out over the loch, eat tremendous food and enjoy this most wonderful of havens secure in the knowledge that even if your least favourite dish in the world pops up on the menu, there is a pretty good chance you will be licking the plate and exclaiming in joy and re-examining all your preconceptions. I promise.

Recipe corner: Creamed spinach

As mentioned on Monday, I have recently added this to my rotating repertoire of side dishes for a roast (roast potatoes are the only fixed point, everything else is up for grabs. Controversial?) This is SUCH a simple dish but a fabulous accompaniment. Because the flavours are mellow (the Parmesan is really a seasoning, so it’s not particularly cheesy - just fabulously savoury) it would go with most things. And it is so soft and comforting, I can quite imagine just eating a bowl of mashed potato with this spooned on top with an extra cheeky shower of Parmesan. 

Ingredients

15g butter

15g plain flour

150ml milk

Scant teaspoon of English mustard

10g Parmesan cheese, finely grated

Shallot, finely chopped

Bag of baby leaf spinach (c. 120g)

Knob of butter, splash of rapeseed oil

Nutmeg

Serves 2, as a side

Melt a knob of butter and a splash (just a teaspoon or so) of oil over a very low heat. When the butter is just melted, throw in the shallot. Add a pinch of salt to help it sweat and then cook it, slowly, until soft and translucent. This dish is about softness, so be sure to cook until all hint of crunch is removed.

Add the spinach leaves, still keeping the heat low, and then cover. Cook, covered, for five minutes or so, stirring occasionally and wonder as the spinach wilts to practically nothing. Remove the lid and continue to cook until any visible liquid has disappeared. At this point season - you won’t need too much salt, but add a good grind of black pepper and a generous grating of nutmeg. I went for about a quarter of a small nut as I wanted a real whack of nutmeg flavour, but go slowly if you’re not sure - it’s heady stuff. Remove the spinach mixture from the pan and set aside.

Turn the heat up slightly (so now medium low) and then we’re making a standard roux. You know the drill: melt the butter then stir in the flour to create a pale, golden paste. Pour the milk in, a third or so at a time, stirring briskly on each addition to ensure a smooth sauce. Once all the milk has been added, lightly season (remember you already have well seasoned spinach), stir through the mustard and bubble the sauce, gently, for a couple of minutes. Taste, to ensure all the flour taste has been cooked out. Remove from the heat and melt through the Parmesan. Finally, add the spinach back to the sauce and combine well.

Bake in a hot (180 fan) oven for 25-30 minutes, until golden and bubbling. I would suggest covering it for the first half and then removing the lid / foil for the remainder, but I have a beast of an oven. If you’re having it as part of a roast dinner (for example) it a good one to prepare in advance and just whack in to bake alongside potatoes et al.

Back to skool

Well, we've just returned from a lovely couple of weeks in Scotland and the gloominess of the weather here this morning couldn't have matched my mood more if it had tried. I love a bit of pathetic fallacy. It's been an extremely chilled out fortnight - not doing loads, but pottering, eating (of course) and, er, book buying. When you come back from holiday with nine more books than you left with, you may well have a problem. But, in my defence, Bookcase in Carlisle was an absolute bibliophile's dream. And I was supporting the local economy in Tobermory by picking up a few there as well...(we won't mention the fact that D and I also made a little pre-holiday trip to Waterstone's the day before we left because that would just make me look like some sort of addict).

The highlight of the trip from a food perspective had to be another meal at the very wonderful Inver which I may well cover in a separate post. But after nearly a fortnight of no real cooking, it was glorious to be back in the kitchen yesterday and we had that homeliest of homecoming meals: roast chicken with various trimmings including a simple creamed spinach that I will share with you (and my future self for posterity).

September (I know it's nearly over, but let me claim it still) is always a good time for fresh starts and while we were away, D and I talked a bit about lifestyle changes that I feel I need to make. Long term readers of this blog will know that I have never, never been a fan of exercise but the sedentary lifestyle occasioned by near permanent working from home, not to mention the fact that I turned 40 at the end of last year, means that any meagre fitness I ever had seems to be slipping away and there is absolutely no excuse for it. The only time I've ever really enjoyed exercise was years ago when I was a member of a gym - I like classes and I love swimming - so I've screwed my courage to the sticking place and arranged for an introductory session at a local club this week. The chap on the phone asked me to describe my current fitness levels. I could only pause before laughing and saying "Pants". I hope they like a challenge. It won't be cheap but I can afford it and I should be investing money in this sort of thing - i.e. myself, my health, my future, rather than continuing to create the UK Book Mountain in my living room.

And as a further incentive, I have booked a personal styling consultation at the beginning of December as a little Christmas present to myself. I randomly saw an Instagram reel of this gorgeous, plus size woman extolling the virtue of tucking your top in (yes, really) and when I looked at her profile I saw that she worked as a stylist and personal shopper in the Leeds branch of John Lewis! So again, courage screwed, I booked a slot. I'm in desperate need of a little push to get me out of tracksuit bottoms and loungewear. And I should have a couple of months of gym-going under my belt by then - enough to make a bit of a difference in confidence if not in shape.

Thus - and let us come back to the pathetic fallacy - as the sun has appeared in the last hour, so am I feeling a wee bit better about the fact that the holidays are gone and winter is coming. Life plods on but there is still much to look forward to.

Local heroes

We went to the last day of the Harrogate Food Festival last week, feeling that as self-proclaimed foodies it was the kind of thing we should be doing on a bank holiday weekend. We failed to take into account that we neither of us like crowds, or uncomfortable plastic chairs, or paying over the odds for things - this could have proved unfortunate. As it was, one overpriced chicken gyro aside, we had quite a pleasant time, aided by a couple of excellent gins. 

The festival was taking place in the grounds of Ripley Castle so we decided to treat ourselves to a night in Ripley at the Boar's Head Hotel, which I remember visiting a few times when we first moved to North Yorkshire and always enjoyed. Gentle reader, while I would not hesitate to recommend the hotel to you (reasonably priced, a beautiful room and some of the most comfortable pillows ever) the hotel restaurant was a bitter disappointment. Can't fault the staff but the food was...not good. I really hope that this is a temporary blip due to the current problems in the hospitality industry, and that the bone dry chickpea fritters with a side of pallid boiled potatoes and crunchy mange tout is not typical.

A relief, then, to find that another old favourite in that part of the world, The General Tarleton in Ferrensby, appears to be going from strength to strength. We went on Saturday night for the tasting menu and thoroughly enjoyed it; not least, at £55 per head (and £55 for the matching wine flight which was poured with an extremely generous hand by the charming waiter) it was remarkably good value for money.

Not necessarily pushing at culinary boundaries, nevertheless, the kitchen was turning out well executed plates of delicious, crowd pleasing food. From the dinky little lobster bonbons, pleasingly crisp and sweet, via a plate-lickingly good beef tartare, and a divine chocolate and raspberry torte, this was all excellent stuff and I would whole heartedly recommend it should you ever find yourself sort of Harrogate way and want to be soothed by good, honest cooking and friendly service.

Bonbon!

Beef!

Chocolate!

Next week, fingers, toes and eyes crossed, we are off to Scotland for a couple of weeks and I will do my best to keep you updated with any particular food highlights, although given that the first night away will be spent in Carlisle (don't ask...) I can't necessarily promise too much!

Le Cochon Aveugle, York

For many years, D and I lived very happily in the beautiful city of York and even though it hasn't been home now for nearly a decade, I still feel my heart squeeze a little in my chest when I go back for a visit. There is something about this ancient city that is utterly timeless; so although when we went last weekend it was the first time we had set foot there for two years, it felt as familiar and comforting as popping down the road. Not that it has been without its changes and casualties - looking more closely at the shopfronts that sit beneath the stone facades we saw that several dear old friends have gone, including the little shop where I bought my wedding ring.

We try not to take it too personally that, since we left, the food scene appears to have improved several fold. It's almost as if they were waiting for us to go. In the recently released Top 100 UK Restaurant Chart, York had no fewer than three entries which is a massive change from back when we were banging the drum for the under appreciated J. Baker's and complaining about the dearth of other options. We still haven't made it to Roots (by Tommy Banks of Black Swan at Oldstead fame) but can confirm that the other two, Skosh and Le Cochon Aveugle are both excellent. And, selflessly doing our bit to support the hospitality industry (how long do you think we can use that excuse??), we made our way over to the latter for lunch.

This comes across as quite a serious restaurant on the website - a blind tasting menu, no substitutions, no children, turn up on time, sit quietly and do as you're told. But don't be concerned; the experience is far more relaxed than this might lead you to believe - with smiley, friendly staff and an elegant-but-not-stuffy dining room.

Yes, you have to eat what you're given with no prior warning, which I know is not for everyone, but you are in good hands here. The influence is broadly French classical but many of the courses are lighter, fresher and draw more from the natural landscape than this might imply. A tomato water, infused with basil and cucumber and drizzled with the most exquisite olive oil was the perfect way to wake up our taste buds at the start of the meal...

...while a scallop ceviche with lemon and seaweed ice and elderflower vinaigrette showed again a real knack for balancing bright, zingy flavours.

At the other end of the spectrum, we fell in love with the boudin noir macarons. The boudin was soft, iron rich and full of spice and contrasted amazingly well with the crisp, sweet macaron. Seriously, these things were good - and we were delighted to learn that they are sold as a bar snack at the restaurant's sister wine bar just down the road. 

And the absolute highlight of the savoury courses were these amazing, buttery potato pancakes topped with braised lamb shoulder, black garlic and sheep's' yoghurt. Strictly speaking, this was an adjunct for the lamb and navarin sauce, but packed such a punch that it ended up outshining the main event.

Seasonality is clearly a big driver here, and it was wonderful to see British strawberries pop up on the menu - this vanilla ice cream with fermented strawberry juice and tarragon oil was a turbo-charged take on the classic strawberries and cream...

...While the custardy, caramel sweetness of the accompanying brioche Pain Perdu made for one of the most indulgently pleasing bites of the whole meal.

It's so exciting to be dining out again that it is entirely possible I have lost any critical faculty that once I possessed, or, at least, it is currently severely impaired by the sheer blissful novelty of eating in a restaurant. But I do genuinely think that Le Cochon Aveugle is an absolute little gem of a place. Skosh is, possibly, more on trend, and Roots benefits from a high profile association but LCA is still a little gem that is well worth attention. Hopefully the York food scene will come back from the last eighteen months stronger than ever - which will give us plenty more excuses to pop back.

Le Cochon Aveugle

37 Walmgate

York

YO1 9TX

Recent eats: a Diana Henry week

July’s themed week was an homage to the wonderful food writer, Diana Henry.

I vaguely recall that she appeared on some daily programme on the food channel years ago - Market Kitchen? Good Food Bites? - and she has the kind of cosy screen presence, and, indeed, writing voice which makes you inherently trust everything she says. I hope that she wouldn’t be insulted to be described as more of a home cook but, like Nigella, a home cook with an encyclopaedic knowledge of food and cooking techniques, who draws on multiple traditions and cultures like a foodie magpie to create interesting dishes that you really want to eat.

We own a number of her books and such is my admiration for her that I even have my mother saving Stellas (the Sunday Telegraph magazine) for me so that I can tear out her weekly recipe columns. There is currently a teetering pile of these on our dining room table, alongside the teetering pile of food magazines and shelves crammed with books - more dishes than could ever be cooked in a lifetime.

For our meal plan, we drew mainly on two books - “A Change of Appetite” and “Simple”. The former appealed because, divided as it is into seasons, it was easy to pick dishes that were appropriate for the current weather and available produce. The latter - well, the clue is in the title. What with the recent heat and the ennui that it occasioned, simple cooking is definitely the way forward.

As usual, we had two fast days in the mix, so five meals by the divine Ms Henry.

Monday - Linguine all’Amalfitana. Monday is nearly ALWAYS simple pasta supper night here and this was a great one to add to the repertoire. Garlic and anchovy are cooked slowly in olive oil to create a savoury backbone but the twist comes in the form of chopped walnuts which add not only texture but a welcome bitter note. Lovely.

Wednesday - Teryaki salmon with quick pickled vegetables. Served with sushi rice this was the perfect summer supper. I love this style of food and teryaki is so quick and simple to do. The addition of the pickled veg brought a perfect balance of sour and sweet and a pleasing crunch to the dish.

Friday - Seared tuna with preserved lemon, olives and avocado. What a flavour bomb this was! It sounds a bit unusual on paper, almost discordant, but here is where the trust comes in and I am so glad we did. Everything harmonised (to continue with my music metaphor) absolutely beautifully. Not to mention it couldn’t be quicker or easier to do but tastes far more special than the lack of effort would suggest. Perfect Friday night fare.

Saturday - Poulet au Comté. Some people might think that chicken baked in a rich cheese sauce, traditionally served after Alpine sports, is not really the thing for a blisteringly hot July evening. To them I say - you’re probably right. But this was one of those recipes torn from a magazine that I’d positively drooled over, so I pressed ahead. You’re either the type of person who is going to adore chicken baked in a rich cheese sauce or you aren’t - I most definitely am and can’t wait to cook it again when the nights draw in. I served it with a lemony orzo here, which helped cut the richness a bit, but come the winter all bets are off and this is going to be accompanied by a Matterhorn of mash.

Sunday: Yoghurt marinated spatchcock chicken with herbs and pomegranates. No one knows their way around a roast chicken like Diana Henry, and I think I have probably raved about her book “A Bird in Hand” on here before. This was a great summer roast with lots of zing and vim and an extremely tender, delicately spiced bird.

Elsewhere in the week, we enjoyed a delicious chocolate olive oil cake - this recipe is available online and would be a great dessert to make if you need to cater for gluten and dairy intolerances. Rich, decadent and fruity, we garnished with creme fraiche, berries, and a flurry of sea salt flakes.

So another successful theme week, and a few dishes already added to “regular” (if there is such a thing in this house) rotation. Some of Diana Henry’s recipes are freely available on t’internet (while the ones on the Telegraph site are mainly behind a paywall) so if you do come across any then do give them a whirl. She’s an absolute treasure whose food writing is up there with some of the best this country has to offer at the moment.

Foodie abroad: a return to Lake Road Kitchen

I have a quote on the tip of my tongue about never going back but I’ve Googled it and apparently Never Go Back is the name of a Jack Reacher film. I don’t think I’ve seen it and it certainly doesn’t sound like the kind of thing I’d usually quote. Anyway. I’ve been musing a bit about nostalgia versus novelty recently. I often wonder if I’m too much governed by the former (familiarity, safety) versus the latter (the new, the unknown) and whether that is a good or bad thing. It’s especially pertinent at the moment; like many of us, I find myself still living in a state of heightened anxiety after the events of the past year and my instinct is to grope for comfort blankets when perhaps what I need is a hefty kick up the arse.

A long winded (and navel gazing) way of saying we found ourselves in the Lakes for a few days as my parents invited us to share their holiday apartment and , to say thank you, we wanted to take them out for dinner. Should we revisit an old favourite or go somewhere new? We opted to return to Lake Road Kitchen, a restaurant we visited and loved back in (shockingly) 2017. We felt fairly certain that we would have a good meal - the lamb that we had five years ago remains, probably, the best I have ever eaten - but there was a slight sense of trepidation that it wouldn’t quite live up to our memories.

Reader, if we loved it in 2017 we were blown away by it in 2021 and we are already plotting when we can return (it will not be another five years). What an absolute gem of a place. We had a twelve course tasting menu and not a dud note - although the rest of the party felt a beef and onion broth was not quite up to the standard of the rest (I rather enjoyed it). While the focus remains on local Cumbrian produce, I definitely felt that the chef’s sphere of influences had widened which made for some seriously impressive, and sometimes surprising, taste combinations. Alongside an absolutely flawless handling of ingredients, there was so much to love that I don’t know what to highlight.

I could wax lyrical about pretty much every course and, interestingly, I think that all four of us had a different favourite. For me, ever a sweet tooth, I adored the dessert end of the menu and am tempted to say that a Brillat-Savarin baked cheesecake with raspberry and liquorice jam and raspberry sorbet was the pinnacle. The cheesecake was so light in texture, not claggy as baked cheesecakes have a tendency to be, and it was almost savoury to taste which worked incredibly well with the sour sweet fruit. Even though I was reaching capacity by the time it was served, the moment it was finished I wanted to eat it again. 

But if the menu ended with a bang, then it has to be said it started on one too with a number of “snack” courses including the crunchiest fried chicken in the history of the world and D’s personal favourite - a deep fried prawn toast with king prawn, prawn mousse and garlic butter. This occupied the space somewhere between a prawn toast and a Kiev, which might sound odd but totally worked. D spent most of the remainder of the evening trying (unsuccessfully) to persuade the waitress to bring him another one.

Also, it would be remiss of me not to mention the main course pork - slow cooked then finished on the barbecue and served with the most amazing wild garlic and caper sauce. Plates may have been licked and bones were certainly gnawed by the gentleman in the party. This is a kitchen that knows how to handle meat.

When you pick an old favourite over something new, there is always a risk of missing out but, to be honest, I can’t envisage any scenario where we missed out here. I cannot praise Lake Road Kitchen enough, and my sentiments were echoed by the whole party. We will be back there soon and if ever you, gentle Reader, should find yourself in the vicinity of Ambleside then I urge you to try and nab a table. 

Lake Road Kitchen

Lake Road

Ambleside 

Cumbria 

LA22 0AD

Coming out

Two momentous happenings last week: I got a haircut (much, much needed) and we went out for lunch. Yes, the world is opening up again and I am taking baby steps out into it. It doesn’t feel comfortable yet; I’ve said all along that, as a natural hibernator, lockdown was not particularly difficult for me, but coming out of it is slightly painful. Still, a lot of my feelings of unease dissipated, or perhaps were squished down, by a vast quantity of delicious food.

I’ve written about The Reliance before, and really am posting again for no other reason than to try and get back in the habit of blogging. I have nothing more intelligent to say other than yum. And, oof. Overcome by the novelty of eating out (someone else cooking! And bringing food! And doing all the washing up!) we vastly over ordered and did not so much walk as waddle out at the end.

Behold:

Snacks and ciccheti to start: deep fried aubergine with honey and ricotta, breakfast radishes with aioli and garlic crumb, jagerwurst, hummus and bread.

Courgette three ways (purée, roast, spiralised) all zingy with lemon and dill and garnished with feta and seeds.

Spiced lambs liver with labneh. Offal and yoghurt might not sound like an obvious match but this was surprisingly lovely.

Sea bass, asparagus and a golden pool of buttery tarragon sauce.

Pork T-bone and potato terrine drenched in a richly sweet and sticky cider jus.

Chocolate and malt parfait - a cool, velvety dream of a Malteser.

Streusel topped apple pie with creme fraiche to cut through the sweetness.

What a lunch! Unsurprisingly, the scales crept up this week for the first time in a while but every single ounce was worth it. Not just for the lovely food but for the fact that things felt almost (almost) back to normal for a couple of hours.

A further note - of dumplings

 I mentioned our Fuchsia Dunlop themed week in my last post and referred briefly to Chinese supermarkets.

We are lucky enough to have several wonderful Chinese supermarkets relatively nearby. You could easily lose half a day in there, wandering up and down the aisles. Well, I could. In a world when I'm not trying to avoid steamed-up glasses and, well, people (also known as potential virus carriers). 

To the point of this post. The restaurant critic, Marina O'Loughlin, recently thanked Ms Dunlop in an Instagram post for getting her on to Freshasia dumplings. So, naturally, in a week when we were paying homage to her food writing and we were planning a trip to the local Chinese superstore, it seemed foolhardy not to see if we could acquire some to try. 

Reader, I can confirm that the dumplings that we tried were DEE-LICIOUS. We don't have any decent dim sum restaurants nearby (that I know of - note to self, must research further) so it was a real delight to find out that these can be sourced locally, and there is a massive range of fillings - through which we plan to work our giddy way. They can be steamed or fried, but we opted to boil - seven minutes from frozen and they were perfect.

Too lazy to make a dipping sauce, so we drizzled over some crispy chilli in oil instead (and this should be a store cupboard staple as it is a really quick and easy way to add texture and heat to any sort of dish from stir fry to scrambled egg).

Can see this being a freezer stalwart around Christmas time as it would make a great addition to any party food line up. Highly recommended. 

Recent eats: a Fuchsia Dunlop week

The recipes that we possess on paper alone, across myriad books and magazine back copies, would constitute more dishes than one could ever cook in a lifetime. And yet still we continue to acquire them until the array of possible answers to the question “What shall we have for dinner?” is so huge that one is rendered mute in the face of it. And thus it is that quite frequently, when meal planning, I will stare at a blank screen for ages before tentatively typing in “Beans on toast?”

One solution - streamlining. Have a cull. Stop acquiring new stuff. But then, you see, you might miss out. You might miss out on a recipe or a food writer who opens your eyes to something new that almost instantaneously absorbs into your repertoire as if it had always been there.  Something new that surprises or delights or challenges or all three at once (yes, food can do this). Discovering the work of Fuchsia Dunlop did this for us, bringing the food and flavours of China (particularly Sichuan) into our home after years of vaguely disappointing takeaway and restaurant experiences.

So then second solution - struggling to meal plan? Theme weeks! Concentrates the mind wonderfully, plus allows you to mix old favourites with new discoveries. And thus our household decided to embark upon a Fuchsia Dunlop Theme Week.

Incidentally, I would direct you to her website but it doesn’t look like it’s been updated for a while. Instead, I’d suggest a quick Google if you’re interested - not just to learn about her background (she was the first ever Westerner to do chef training at the Sichuan Higher Institute of Cuisine) but, also, a good few of her recipes are published online on sites such as The Guardian. Her Instagram feed is gorgeous too - and the fact that she once responded to a fan-girl comment of mine in the nicest and most gracious way only makes me slightly biased.

So, to the food (five dishes since we fast twice a week which means dust for dinner).

Monday - Dan Dan noodles. I was DETERMINED to have at least one noodle dish on there and this seems to be a classic. D is less enamoured of noodles than I, but he really enjoyed it. It’s sort of reminiscent of a Spag Bol that has wandered off on holiday. Incidentally, I sometimes find noodles to be slightly claggy - if you’re bothered by this, try cooking them in advance, plunging them straight from the pan into cold water and then lying them out flat in a single layer to cook and dry mitigates this a lot. You will need to reheat before serving - either in the pan of whatever else you’re cooking or a quick blast in the microwave,  (bowl, splash of water, cover with cling film, pierce, blast).

Wednesday - Mapo Tofu, smacked cucumber with garlicky sauce. One of the most intensely flavoured dishes of the week without a doubt. I just can’t get on with tofu when it is designed to be slippery in texture, which it is here. Firm, crisp - fine. Wobbly, verging on the gelatinous - not so fine. It speaks volumes for the delicious sauce that I still scoffed the lot but I think I need to tweak this slightly to make it more appealing to me (which would mean that it was no longer Mapo Tofu but that’s ok).

Smacked cucumber by the way - fabulous. And satisfying if you’ve had a particularly bad day at work (you do, literally, smack the thing). I sprinkled a few salted cashews over the top to add additional texture to the dish (see notes re wobbliness of tofu above).

Friday - oil exploded prawns, noodles with dried shrimp and spring onion oil. SO much flavour from so few ingredients - the noodles are the most ridiculously easy thing ever involving just oil, dried shrimp, spring onions and a splash of soy. The prawns were sweet and sticky and messy and deeply satisfying. This was like the best seafood pasta you’ve never had.

Saturday - fish fragrant chicken with egg fried rice. Back in slightly more familiar territory on Saturday night. All I will say about this is - if once you were to cook it, you would never order a Chinese takeaway EVER again.

Sunday - Nanjing saltwater duck, dry fried green beans. We pushed ourselves out of our comfort zone a little here. The picture of the duck, which is braised in a fragrant broth, was a little...pallid. Beige, even. A far cry from the crispy, gleaming specimens one associates with Chinese cookery. We were not sure how this would work texturally without any rendering of the fat. But no cause for alarm - this was tender without being in any way chewy or or wobbly, and the flavour infused into the meat was sublime. Actually, I think the wonderful taste of the duck itself was allowed to shine through a little more without the usual salty distraction of the fatty, delicious skin. The beans - well, D usually can’t stand green beans but these were excellent - the pork and preserved veg adding a deep savouriness to the appealingly crunchsome veg. As D observed, "Who knew that deep frying them and adding meat would make them nice?" NB: This is probably an edict that can be applied to many a thing.

In conclusion - a roaring success and plenty of dishes to make the regular rotation - along with at least one to play with. If you have never liked Chinese food - or even if you THINK you like the Chinese food that you’ve had so far, I would urge you wholeheartedly to give Fuchsia’s books a try. The majority of the ingredients are easily available now - online if you don’t have a handy Chinese supermarket nearby. Everything we have cooked so far has been quick and easy to do. There is nothing not to like!

As for me, back to non themed meal planning this week. Beans on toast, anyone?

Recent eats: a vegetarian week

We've always been keen meal planners but lockdown has made us...well, bordering on the obsessive. We both pore over the spreadsheet which meticulously lists out what we will be eating for weeks in advance. We have a colour coding system. We have multiple tabs - for the current meal plan, the future meal plan, the archive meal plan, the freezer inventory and the shopping list - it's becoming ridiculous. But perhaps all of us have sought order and structure in strange places through this strangest of years. And budget wise, it really is astounding what a difference it makes.

Anyway, this is not a post in praise of meal planning per se, but it is a record of the week just gone which we decreed "Veggie week". Because sometimes, to shake things up a bit, a themed week is just the ticket.

We've done veggie weeks before, and always end up eating incredibly well although I do find that I have to try and avoid my natural compulsion to cover everything in cheese! 

Saturday - shallot Tarte Tatin. I came across this while browsing through an old blog that I used to follow, but the recipe is originally Gordon Ramsay's. I tweaked it ever so slightly by adding the tomatoes and goats' cheese to the top (or bottom) of the shallot layer before covering with pastry. I didn't quite understand the point of just dumping them on top at the end. 

It was something of a labour of love this, but I made things more difficult for myself by making my own rough puff pastry - using shop bought would have been more straightforward. Regardless, it was a delicious and beautiful thing and well worth the effort. Equally good warm from the oven and cold for lunch the next day. 

Sunday - shepherdess pie. I was so proud of this one! The lentil mix which formed the base was actually entirely vegan but still had a fantastic richness to it. To make: blitz or very finely chop one onion, two sticks of celery and four chestnut mushrooms. Put into the slow cooker alongside a small handful of soaked porcini mushrooms (along with the soaking liquid), four roughly chopped sundried tomatoes in oil, an undrained can of kidney beans, 80g of Puy lentils, a bay leaf and a decent sprig of rosemary. Then, whisk together 1.5 tablespoons of brown miso, a tablespoon of tomato ketchup and 240ml of boiling water, and pour over the pulse mix. Season, and cook on low for six and a half hours. 

At this point, if you choose to smother it with buttery, cheesy mashed potato and bake in the oven...obviously it was cease to be vegan. But it will be very tasty nonetheless (and am sure a non dairy mash would be almost as good).

Monday - refried bean and avocado quesadillas. I bloody love refried beans! I am also slightly obsessed with the TikTok quadrant wrap technique being someone who loves wraps but is incapable of eating one without tipping half the contents down her front. I do not have TikTok (I am not really sure what it is) but an explanation of the wrap "hack" can be found here, and it is very clever. And I can tell you that if your quadrants contain beans, cheese and avocado you will produce a delicious and very filling meal. 

Wednesday - ooh, now this was nice although written down it will sound a bit random and, indeed, the main point of it was to use up some bits and pieces that had been hanging around for a while. So, we had Gochujang noodles (using the dressing found in this recipe), kale stir fried with tahini, chilli and soy and boiled eggs. I ate the leftovers cold for lunch and found them to be even more delicious for a couple of days ruminating in the fridge. 

Friday - to finish the week, mushroom and halloumi "burgers". I have to put burgers in quotation marks because I object to the use of the word in this context and yet can't think of an alternative. Anyway, Portobella mushrooms were topped with a garlicky mushroom farce (just blitzed chestnut mushrooms and trimmings cooked down with garlic and a little thyme before being finished with a tablespoon of cream cheese to create a pate like texture) and baked before being served in buns with slices of fried halloumi and a caper mayonnaise garnish. Indulgent fare for Friday night, especially with a heap of homemade slaw on the side.

So, veggie week - done, with some very pleasing new recipes added to the repertoire. Even a committed carnivore like D had no cause for complaint - although he did proceed to cook pork chops for tea on Saturday...

Waiting for Jab-ot

And the prize for most ridiculous, pretentious, doesn't-really-work-anyway blog post title goes to...

The UK is beginning to open up again which is fantastic news and I'm sure all of us are hoping and praying that all those businesses who have been so badly affected by the past year will be able to get back on track. 

Mind, I'm slightly hypocritical to say that given that I have not yet ventured out to sit in a pub garden (or, more importantly, to get my ridiculous hair sorted out) and have no intention of doing so until I have had my first jab. I am perfectly well aware that transmission rates outside are low, and am also aware of the fact that the chance of me having complications if I did catch COVID are also low. That's why I am still waiting for my first vaccination. But, but, but. I just sort of feel that, having got through this year physically unscathed I don't want to rush into anything now and blow it. Probably being overcautious. But one of the very few advantages of turning 40 is that I should be in the next tranche at which point, I'm good to go.

So what will be (or, indeed, what was) your first post-lockdown meal out or drink out or experience? What's the thing you've been missing above all else? We have a few treats booked in for the rest of the year and am getting slightly giddy at the prospect of some fayne dayning. D and I are decent enough cooks, and I flatter myself that we've eaten pretty well throughout lockdown, but we are domestic cooks rather than restaurant chefs and I can't WAIT to eat something beautiful and delicious and unsubstantial and frivolous. 

Notes on intermittent fasting, general ramblings

Poor little blog, it’s all been very quiet recently. And I do want to write here more regularly - it’s pretty much the only writing I do nowadays that isn’t responding to an email about something dull.

Like many people, I want to get away from screens at the end of the working day, especially when there is no clear delineation between work and home - I never appreciated the fact that my commute, tedious as it was, gave valuable space and time for decompression. But it doesn’t take much time or effort to share a quick account of a nice recipe and having some sort of creative outlet is important. Even if many people might feel that wittering about dinner is playing slightly fast and loose with the notion of creativity.

I said in my last post that I didn’t want to talk much about our current eating regime and I stick by that for the most part, but think it worth noting for posterity that last week I hit a stone loss since we started doing two types of intermittent fasting concurrently, which was late October last year. Now that’s pretty slow - although I note from my records that it’s been a general downwards drift throughout apart from a blip over Christmas. But slow is fine with me - I don’t mind slow as long as it arrives with its close friend sustainable and, all things considered, I think this is very much a sustainable way of doing things for us.

We only eat between the hours of noon and eight in the evening. It’s not a completely clean fast, as we allow ourselves two cups of tea with skimmed milk over the course of a morning, but as long as you keep calorie intake to less than 50, that’s still ok. This is easy to stick to when you’re not going out and doing anything. Eating out might be the spanner in the works as I don’t particularly want to only ever go to Early Bird specials - but assuming we don’t go mad when we can go out and about again, this shouldn’t be a massive issue.

Two days a week, generally Tuesday and Thursday although this is flexible, we only eat 500-600 calories in our eight hour window. This usually means a light lunch at noon (crackers, fruit) and soup for an early supper at six, with a couple of squares of chocolate afterwards (nice to have something to look forward to throughout the day). Some fast days are harder than others. I don’t relish the thought of having to be out and about and relatively active when only subsisting on 500 calories but when you’re working from your dining table it’s definitely doable. 

The real win here is that on non fast days, we are eating really well - albeit not in the mornings - and, for the first time in possibly my entire adult life, I feel like I’m getting the hang of eating intuitively. That sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it? But I think so many people, especially women, have been programmed from a very early age to think of some foods as good and some as bad, to always go for low fat or low sugar or low carb options, to ignore (or, at least, try to ignore) our natural hunger signals. We eat when we are happy or sad or bored or tired and then we feel guilty for doing so. We get ourselves into odd patterns of thought - “I’ve already blown it today so I might as well eat an entire packet of biscuits and “start again” tomorrow.” We avoid certain food groups only to end up having mini binges. 

While it could be argued that there is nothing “normal” or intuitive about deliberately restricting the hours during which you can eat, and deliberately setting out to eat a pitiful number of calories a couple of times a week, for me, it feels like a worthwhile bargain to make with my body. 

I’ve got an exercise bike set up in the spare bedroom so the missing piece of the puzzle - which for me is always the physical movement side of things, I genuinely am part woman part sloth - is being addressed - albeit slowly and sporadically. Once the world is more open I’d love to explore some different options here - maybe swimming occasionally, or a yoga class. And that might boost my rate of loss slightly - or it might not, but that’s ok. 

More importantly (as far as I’m concerned) is the fact that I genuinely think this way of eating is good for my health. My recent you’ve-turned-40-time-for-an-MOT blood tests came back showing my blood sugar and cholesterol levels are both entirely normal. Considering my history, and the fact that there is type 2 diabetes in the family, that’s pretty astounding and I do wonder if IF has played a part in that.

I don’t intend to bore on about the subject, but thought it worth getting some thoughts down for my own future reference. Normal service, including awful pictures of dinner, will resume with my next post.

Recent eats: the interminable winter edition

I find myself so intensely boring at the moment that I haven't wanted to inflict any blogging on the world. Lockdown has not been good for me. I have basically turned even more sloth like in my habits and my hair is, frankly, ridiculous. Funky, asymmetric styles are all very well until they start growing out and then they just look like someone can't cut straight.

So we've been cooking and eating, which is fine. What can I tell you about? We brined a roast chicken the other week - or, to be strictly accurate, we brined a chicken for 48 hours prior to roasting it which was delicious. It would have been better, however, if I hadn't managed to roast it upside-down. Which meant that the underside was golden and crispy and buttery and the breast was...a wee bit pale and flabby looking. D removed the breast skin and crisped it up under the grill, while I languished on the sofa wondering how on Earth I have reached the age of 40 without knowing which way up a chicken should go. 

I made pizza last week, and remain very impressed with Dan Lepard's dough recipe, so that was good. We cooked a smoked haddock and kale hash from one of the new Christmas cookbooks which was DELICIOUS. It is actually online, here, if you're interested. It is one of those dishes that somehow manages to be significantly more than the sum of its parts. Highly recommended.

Oh, and D splashed out and treated us both to a Dishoom bacon naan takeaway kit thingy. Good, but we think we can tweak it to make it even better (it will probably include a liberal drizzle of our beloved coriander and chilli chutney, aka "green stuff").

In the background, we've both been trying to shift a bit of weight which I am loathe to talk about really because - see first paragraph it is SO BORING. And I'm conscious that this blog is like bloody Groundhog Day for Diets - except that it's not, not Bill Murray actually learns and grows during Groundhog Day and me...not so much. But I will say that a few months ago - mid-October time - we introduced low calorie days back into our week, so we now follow a programme of intermittent fasting which involves only eating for 8 hours a day and, on two of those days, only eating 500 calories. A mash-up of 16/8 and 5/2. And it does work, albeit slowly, and it is a hell of a lot easier to manage low calorie days when we're at home not really doing everything. Whether it will be sustainable when the world goes back to normal...not so sure. But since that shows no sign of happening for a while, we'll keep going for now!