L'Enclume

The final stop on our whistle stop eating tour of the Lake District was the one about which we were most excited, and with good reason.  There are only two restaurants in the country which have scored 10 out of 10 in the Good Food Guide and one of those is The Fat Duck which, you may remember, was voted the best restaurant in the entire world a few years ago by People Who Know.  The second is called L’Enclume, and it is situated in the tiny village of Cartmel, a few miles from the respective shores of Lake Windermere and the Irish Sea.  Before chef Simon Rogan decided to make Cartmel the headquarters from where he would take over the world (of fine dining), it was chiefly remarkable for possessing the most randomly located racecourse in the British Isles and a village shop that did a fine line in sticky toffee puddings.

 

I predict that it will not be long before the good folk of Cartmel are forced to erect some kind of multi storey car park to accommodate all the people that flock there to eat good food and buy quaintly packaged toffee sauce.  Even on an unremarkable Saturday in February the tiny village was packed to the rafters; we arrived at two and ended up in the racecourse car park.  Goodness knows what it is like when you factor race goers into the mix.  We wondered what local residents think about the regular influx of gastro tourists, eyes glazed and cheeks flushed with over consumption, although the maitre d’ at the restaurant said they were pretty sanguine given that the value of their properties has more than doubled in the past few years.

 

We had already dined at L’Enclume a few years ago, before it was awarded its second Michelin star and before Simon Rogan started to become a little more prominent in the popular media – you may remember him from the Great British Menu competition last year where he Kicked Ass.  Back then we declared it as one of the finest meals it had ever been our privilege to eat.  Back then too, you still got to choose between a few different menus whereas now, if you go to the website you will find that menus are passé and at L’Enclume you will eat whatever the kitchen decides: “Because we are not restrained by a set menu, we are free to express and to use whatever is available to us at that very moment in time.”  In the hands of a lesser kitchen, a lesser chef, this kind of rhetoric would have made my heart sink, but here, I was willing to just go with it. 

 

It would be tedious in the extreme for you to listen as I rhapsodised my way through the many and varied courses we scoffed during the course of the evening.  Our personal highlights included “Oyster pebbles”: an apple meringue filled with a pop of salty oyster liquor – sounds weird, tasted amazing.

 

 

 

Smoked eel with ham fat – this, I think, was the only hot amuse and was a salty, crispy surf and turf delight – the nuggets were served on a swipe of “Ham fat cream” which are words that struck deep joy in our greedy little hearts.

 

 

 

The valley venison with charcoal oil, mustard and fennel was, I think, my absolute favourite dish.  The venison was velvety tender, the flavours delicately balanced and the fennel “candies” – little sweet, aniseedy balls that popped in your mouth, made us both grin.

 

 

 

The mussels in their own juice were the musseliest mussels that we two mussel fiends had ever eaten.  And with good reason – mussels are cooked, the precious liquor retained and then used to steam a fresh batch.  So, mussels squared.  Delicious.

 

 

 

The best of the pudding courses was undoubtedly the rhubarb with brown butter, wild sorrel and apple which struck just the right balance between sweet and mouth puckering sour notes.

 

 

 

But I can’t not mention the darling little ice cream cones that came sticking out of a piece of rock (very Noma!) flavoured with pear, sweet cheese and parsnip.

 

 

 

Not to mention a superlative cheese trolley – yes we somehow…just…managed to squeeze in some cheese…

 

It seems churlish to complain, but given that the nature of L’Enclume means that dishes are constantly being created and evolving, it is only natural that some are less successful than others; we both felt that the turbot with grilled carrots, Manx queenie scallops and celandine was a little on the sweet side (it could have used some ham fat cream perhaps?) and D also though that the honeycomb and quince dessert verged on the overly saccharine.  I would never criticise any man for having a sweet tooth but the more successful courses (which was most of them) managed to get the disparate elements to harmonise and balance in a way that was perhaps lacking in these. 

 

And of course, L’Enclume is eye wateringly expensive – especially if, like us, you throw caution to the wind and go for the wine flight to match the food (although this was very well chosen and included an amazing plum sake to go with the cheese course.)  To stay at L’Enclume house is, conversely, very good value – for our standard double the B&B rate was less than we paid at The Best Western hotel the night before and the rooms and breakfast were an absolute delight.  Still, it is not an experience that we will get to repeat often unless the civil service pay freeze is replaced with massive increments from 2014 onwards (although George Osborne should rest assured that should he do that there are at least two civil servants in the North East who will undertake to stimulate the economy with some serious spending). 

 

Still, the fact that there is someone like Simon Rogan around, in tune with his environment, interested in brave and challenging flavour combinations, someone who utilises humour and whimsy and skill to make the kind of food that makes you break out in a broad grin full weeks after you have eaten it, that fact alone is enough to make this foodie content that the future of fine dining in Britain is in excellent hands.

 

People of Cartmel – I wouldn’t be planning to sell up any time soon.

 

L'Enclume

Cavendish St

Cartmel

01539 536362

The Drunken Duck Inn, Ambleside

“We need to get there early,” D warned, “They get queues out of the door at lunchtime.”  I was sceptical, but nobly got up when dawn was barely cracked in order to breakfast before nine (no way was I going to miss out considering the extortionate price we paid to stay in an unremarkable Ambleside hotel) and even more nobly restrained myself in the face of Cumberland sausages and a buffet table groaning with pastries.  D was rather less controlled and found himself still rather sausage laden come noon, but, nevertheless, we arrived at The Drunken Duck on the dot of twelve and were the first people through the door.  This was good as it ensured Himself got his pick of the seats (close to the fire, no draught, good position for people watching), but nearly went horribly wrong when I suggested waiting a little to order food, seeing as how it was empty and all.  His expression became increasingly pained as the clock hands crept round to quarter past and people began to drift in – whether this was a digestive issue or not was unclear – but I capitulated and ordered and then lo and behold, the floodgates opened and by half past the little pub was heaving. 

It is not hard to see why.  The Drunken Duck is situated just ten minutes or so outside of Ambleside town centre but it could as easily have been in the Middle of Nowhere just behind the Back of Beyond.  They have an outside terrace with amazing, undulating views – a wonderful place, I would imagine, to sit and sup a pint during the height of summer. 

Inside is hardly less pleasant – a crackling fire, tasteful clutter, and, above the well stocked bar, a beautiful canopy of green grey dried hops.

We were off for some serious dining that evening and so had to be restrained while ordering from the lunchtime menu.  I went for a Reuben sandwich, D for the ploughman’s.  The latter arrived at the table bound up in a checked cloth which is the kind of little detail that always makes me smile.  My sandwich was delicious – top quality sourdough bread and a good balance of filling and the constituent parts of the ploughman’s were all excellent, if a little fridge cold at first. 

Across the way, the thick cut chips (which we bravely avoided) looked and smelled wonderful.  Basically, this was everything you could want from a good pub lunch served in a comfy and cosy environment.  Can you tell that I loved it?  Another place that I am eager to revisit one evening so I can sample their more formal menu.  And another place that you, gentle reader, must seek out if you ever find yourself in that part of the world.

 The Drunken Duck Inn

Barngates
Ambleside
Cumbria
LA22 0NG
Tel: 015394 36347

The Cottage in the Wood, Keswick

So, the food baby is beginning to subside and I can’t wait to tell you about some of the sheer fabulousness that went into its inception although I should warn you, if you are dieting or hungry you may wish to skip the next few posts.  Don’t worry, you know I’ll be back soon enough moaning about Weight Watching and how depressing it is to eat alone and generally weeping into my cabbage soup, but for now, let us set off on a journey westwards, into one of the most beautiful regions of the UK, and then let us NOT go walking in the fells but head straight off for lunch.  In the car.

I never visited the Lakes as a child.  My parents liked North Yorkshire, occasionally venturing a little further up the coast to Northumberland, but they stuck firmly to the Eastern side of the country.  I’ve never been to Devon or Cornwall either, something I hope to remedy someday (I hear the siren song of the clotted cream, you see).  Anyway, D and I first started visiting regularly a few years ago (unsurprisingly, our primary mission even then was to eat) and I was overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of the place.  The scenery is absolutely breathtaking.  But man cannot live on beauty alone and it is also a region blessed with some excellent eateries – although to be fair, such is the quality of much British cooking and produce I think you can eat well in most parts of the country now.

The first little gem that I want to share with you is situated on a winding, narrow road that weaves its way up a hill just outside of Keswick called The Cottage in the Wood.  It is picture perfect.

D discovered it from a Jay Rayner review – now there is a man after our own greedy little hearts: a critic who genuinely adores food, has a healthy appreciation of the pig and also eschews any sort of snobbery, as is right and proper.  He is someone you could quite easily imagine going for a Michelin star meal and then picking up a kebab on the way home and when he says somewhere is good, it is generally worth a trip.

We arrived and were greeted by the owner, all smiles and firm handshakes.  She ushered us to a seat by the fire and apologised that we would have to wait a minute for the menu – she was just on her way to print them.  This made me very happy – so many restaurants claim to change their menus regularly but this place literally rewrites it on a daily basis to accommodate the available produce and, presumably, the whims of the chef.  For lunch, the Cottage only offers a choice of two dishes for all three courses which again, I find an endearing feature, speaking of quality over mediocre quantity.  We had decided in advance on a sharing policy so that we could both try everything.  I must admit, my heart sunk a little when I saw that one of the desserts on offer was pannacotta – one of the few puddings that I actively dislike – but…well, more of that in a minute.

To start we had smoked salmon with apple, chicory and salted almonds which was as fresh as the proverbial daisy with a pleasingly delicate smoke, and a celeriac and saffron veloute with a crispy pig’s trotter.  We both felt the texture of the soup could have been a bit lighter but the taste was earthy and delicious and I for one adored the little trotter croquette.  



 

The stand out dish of the day for both of us was the fish main course: John Dory with samphire and potted shrimps.  It was so good that as we reached the halfway point, whereupon we would swap plates, I began to panic a little and wonder if I could renege on my promise to share.  The other choice, chicken with a spelt and mushroom risotto, did its best – the nutty spelt was a fabulous choice of accompaniment, being a perfect fit with the woody earthiness of the mushrooms – and, if it was in second place, it was second place with honour.

 

John Dory

So, on to puddings, and D, sensing my wobbly pudding induced apprehension nobly offered to renounce his claim on half of the crème brulee with rhubarb puree and sorbet.  But, we had promised to share, and I agreed to sample a tentative spoonful.  What a revelation!  It turns out I do like pannacotta when it is as sweet and soft and yielding as this.  I would quite happily have licked the plate.

 

Pannacotta

The really remarkable thing about this lunch was the value for money.  For three exemplary courses we paid a mere £19.95, and the wine list ranneth over with reasonably priced treats.  I would have paid more for the view from the dining room windows alone.

View

If you do find yourself up in the area at any point I really recommend that you check this place out – they have rooms and an evening tasting menu which I intend to go back and try.  A chef whose skill can help shake my loathing of wobbly puddings is definitely one I would trust to cook me an absolutely splendid dinner.  And you never know – I might even be persuaded to lace up my walking boots and head of for a pre supper constitutional.  I said might…

 

The Cottage in the Wood

Magic Hill

Whinlatter Forest

Braithwaite

Near Keswick

Cumbria

CA12 5TW

01768778409

Please excuse me while I nurse this food baby...

What a weekend!  So much amazing food porn to share with you, but at the moment I am reclining on the sofa rubbing my stomach and moaning softly.  So, I will leave you with a promise of tales of culinary adventures to come and some reminders of the non greed related reasons why I love the Lakes...

 

 

Meal Planning Monday - 11th February 2012

I really, really want to join in with MPM but I feel like I'm cheating a bit this week as I really only have a couple of meals to plan.  Still, that's not to say I can't talk about them I suppose.

You see, two very exciting (if you're me and your life is quite small and also you have a bit of a tendency towards hyperbole) days are taking place this week - Shrove Tuesday (aka Pancake Day) and Valentine's Day (aka ridiculously overhyped and commercialised Day where Everyone is In Love).

My view on Valentine's Day has always been that I like to celebrate it in some small way - not, I hasten to add, to spend vast amounts of money, but just to mark it.  I do this for Teenage Seren who wondered if her prince would ever come.  Even this year, when my supposed prince has buggered off down the road, I won't let her down.  So D and I are heading off to the Lakes to Be Romantic.  We're staying in a hotel with a hot tub and everything - although D has already said that he doesn't see anything Romantic about sitting in a pool of warm water in the freezing cold when he could be supping a nice pint in a cosy pub.  I kind of see his point.  Anyway, we're away for the weekend, and on Thursday night I am going to his house for a pre Lakes Romantic Curry.  I'm providing a side dish of delicious zero point mushroom curry.

The rest of the week, then...

•  Monday: duck pancakes.  I bought these to mark Chinese New Year which I believe was yesterday and then didn't end up eating them because, er, I had North African food instead.  I know that these theoretically constitute a starter but they're my favourite part of the Chinese and I shall be ekeing out the duck with cucumber and spring onions to make them a bit less pointy.
• Tuesday: Pancake Day!  D is coming round and we're making Yotam Ottolenghi's green pancakes with lime butter.  That, my friends, is pancake day foodie style.
• Wednesday: I'm having fish pie and, goddamit, there will be peas.  Lots and lots of peas.

Check out Mrs M's for more menu planning madness.

Learning to love Leeds: Oranaise

I hate to say it, but I'm definitely warming to my new home town.  And I have to concede when it comes to little gems of places to eat and drink, Leeds and it's outlying suburbs may well have the edge on York.  My own view is that, J Baker's aside, York is not a top foodie destination and that while traditional pubs abound, it has fewer interesting bar type establishments than one might expect from a city with such a large population of both students and tourists. 

Today D and I ventured out in the rain to walk to Hyde Park Corner, an area of Leeds that is deep in the depth of Studentville with the pavements bearing the takeaway detritus to prove it.  Sorry, that's a terrible generalisation, isn't it?  I hardly ever ate takeaways when I was a student...  Anyway, the primary mission was for me to view a coat stand in a vintage furniture shop (verdict: very cool but not quite £65 worth of musthaveness) but we decided to make a bit of a trip of it and do lunch as well.  D, who is becoming something of a truffle pig for good eateries, suggested a Moroccan café / restaurant called Oranaise. 

Who knows what tipped him off - it's not a cuisine I know an awful lot about, nor one I would ever be likely to choose and still, I loved it.  We both opted for wraps - shawarma chicken with houmous and merguez sausage respectively, which were priced just either side of £4, and arrived hot and groaning with fillings.  The merguez sausages were absolutely divine, oozing deliciously spiced oil all over the place (including down my front - I really must take a bib when I go out to eat).  D decided to partake of one of the teas on offer - mint, lemon and honey, which was slightly too sweet to be truly refreshing but tasty nonetheless. 

There was more substantial fare available (although I have to say the wraps themselves were more than sufficient for a nice lunch); a man a few tables down from us ordered what I presume to be the couscous royale which looked absolutely epic, and the chaps next door were enjoying a very robust full English - possibly less than authentically North African but tasty looking nonetheless.

Purely in the interests of research, we forced ourselves to try a selection of Moroccan pastries, although I, ever the good Weight Watcher (ignores shouts of laughter from collected audience) only had a nibble of each.  They were absolutely amazing - particularly a filo tube which seemed to be filled with some sort of hazelnut concoction.  Very, very sweet though - they were absolutely drenched in honey. 

It had a lovely atmosphere as well - brightly coloured, the window cluttered with tagines the walls covered in intricately framed little mirrors, and a friendly couple of waiting staff.  All in all, it was very almost worth the half hour walk in the rain to get there and that, my friends, is a pretty high compliment from this sofa loving sloth. 

Oranaise
1 The Crescent
Hyde Park
Leeds
LS6 2NW

 

 

That was the month that was

After the wonderful, thoughtful and supportive comments on last week’s post, it seems churlish to just post a sausage recipe and then disappear. Time appears to be slipping away from me at the moment and this last week has passed in the twinkling of an eye. So, as always, from the heart of my bottom thank you for all your kind words. Might I suggest a virtual group hug?

There is wisdom indeed out there in the blogosphere, and believe me, I am thinking carefully about what my next steps should be – both with regards to my own health and my relationship with D. For the former, I have an appointment to see lovely doctor again next week and, having done some gut spilling to both her and you, do feel better and more positive and want now to come up with some solid strategies. And as to the latter, D and I have both agreed that a period of more separated separation might well be in order (thank you for your honesty, Bren). We are spending a weekend together in the Lakes in a couple of weeks, but after that…

So, January 2013 Not a sterling start to the year in any way, shape or form but it’s over now and with its departure, so we edge ever closer to Spring.

Recipe corner - venison sausages braised in red wine

Well, I promised you a delicious sausage recipe...

Hang on.  I have to pause here to snicker about the phrase "delicious sausage".  God, I have a puerile sense of humour.

Now.  Bangers, mash and onion gravy is my favourite thing.  Specifically though: good sausages, buttery mash and D's patented red onion gravy.  I love, love, love it.  And when I have sausages to hand I don't tend to do much with them apart from that, or possibly - possibly a sandwich.  But I've seen some delicious sounding other recipes recently which has made me think I need to stretch my sausage wings...

....pause for another snicker....

....a bit further.  And, with a packet of venison sausages lurking in the freezer that I bought at the fabulous Kirkstall deli market last year, I did just that.

This is a Delia Smith recipe originally that I have tweaked a little to make it a tad more WW friendly.

Ingredients

5 pork and venison sausages, quartered
250ml red wine
250ml beef stock
1 dessertspoon olive oil
65g pancetta cubes
1 large clove garlic, peeled and crushed
Red onion, peeled and chopped
1 level dessertspoon juniper berries
1 level teaspoon chopped fresh thyme
2 bay leaves
175 g medium-sized, open-cap mushrooms
1 heaped teaspoon plain flour
1 rounded teaspoon mustard powder
25 g half fat butter, softened
1 rounded tablespoon redcurrant jelly
salt and freshly milled black pepper

Serves 3, 13 pro points per portion

Heat the oil in the casserole dish then, with the heat at medium, brown the sausage chunks
evenly all over.

 

Transfer these to a plate and, in the delicious sausagey oil, brown the diced bacon, adding the onion after a couple of minutes and then, when the bacon is brown and the onion translucent, add the garlic for the final minute or so of cooking.

 

Now lightly crush the juniper berries and tip them into the dish along with the browned sausages, the wine, half the stock and the herbs. Season lightly (remember the bacon and sausages will be salted so proceed with caution), bring it up to a gentle simmer and then cover, lower the heat and allow to bubble away quietly for half an hour.

 

After that, add the mushrooms and leave everything to cook gently without a cover for a further 20 minutes or so.  At this stage, I found that I had very little liquid left - if this is the case for you then add some more stock.  Keep the heat very low to prevent it from boiling to nothing. The mushrooms will reduce some water so don't add too much initially but keep an eye on it and top up as necessary.

 

To finish off, remove the sausages and vegetables to a warm serving dish, mix the flour and the mustard powder with the softened butter until you have a smooth paste and whisk this, a little
at a time, into the sauce until it thickens and becomes glossy  Now whisk through the redcurrant jelly and let everything bubble for a few more minutes, then take the casserole off the heat, whisk in the and return the sausages and the veg so it is ready to serve with a pile of creamy mash and some leafy green vegetables.

I feel that I should make a confession

Snow angel

My attendance at WW meetings have been sporadic recently. I have tried several local ones and not found a leader I like or a time that fits in with my schedule which tends to fluctuate week on week depending on what is going on with work and training.

And another confession.

My weight loss has been…well. Not. And this is probably down to several facts. The sporadicness (not a real word, fact fans!) of my attendance at meetings and corresponding lack of doggedness in sticking to the eating plan day in day out. And also the undeniable truth that, since September, I have been using my old friends food and wine as a source of comfort far more than I should.

I know all of the things that I should be doing. I’ve written over and over again about the need to look after myself, to put myself first, to treat myself kindly, to see a healthy eating plan as a gift rather than an inconvenience.  I do believe it.  Likewise, I’ve written about the fact that I try hard not to locate my self esteem in my feelings about my appearance, that extra weight doesn’t make me a bad or a less worthwhile person.

But confession number three – I am not looking after myself properly. Well, not consistently, anyway. And confession number four – the physical evidence that this is so makes me feel incredibly miserable. I don’t have a full length mirror in my house. I don’t want one.

Weeping Woman

I had to go to see the doctor today. When I left York I transferred practices and the new one needed to do a medication review. The poor thing – she probably expected a relatively straightforward five minutes, what she got was the Incredible Weeping Woman. It all came pouring out; the fact that throughout all my problems with anxiety and depression I had relied too much on food which had resulted in a substantial weight gain, that although I hadn’t had a reoccurrence of the debilitating panic attacks during my recent separation, I was recoursing to the same behaviours, that my self esteem was low, that I was terrified of all the health issues attached to being overweight, that I was furious at myself for putting my health in jeopardy, that I was frightened that I couldn’t sort myself out on my own.

And she was lovely. And she gave me some tissues and asked sensible questions. She has offered me blood tests to check things like blood sugar (there is type 2 diabetes in my family) and cholesterol levels to set my mind at rest, and also to check my thyroid function – underactive thyroids can not only increase one’s propensity for weight gain but also contribute to feelings of depression. And we also have discussed the possibility of me going for counselling again. She agreed that the fact I have not had any panic attacks recently was a massively positive thing but suggested that maybe some sessions to discuss rethinking other negative behaviours might be really helpful and build on the work I had already done.

As I left she smiled and said, “Don’t worry, we’ll get you sorted out.” Which nearly made me cry again.

It is never easy to ask for help. God, it’s not easy to admit that you need it in the first place. I want to be able to fix my own problems – I feel that I have all the tools and therefore should be able to do it myself – but the fact is, I need a little bit of outside support. And I want to do it now, while I am still relatively young (“You’re only 32!” said lovely doctor – the "only" was much appreciated) and yet to encounter any serious health issues.

So anyway. They say confession is good for the soul and there you have it. Rest assured that I am going to keep on keeping on, and apologies if this has been of a sad mental dump – lovely sausage recipe to follow later this week to lift the mood, I promise!

Meal planning Monday - 21st January 2013

I am absolutely determined to stay on track this week despite feeling like I'm going through the mill a bit at the moment.  And the best way to stay on track is to plan, plan, plan and ensure that there are plenty of yummy things that I can look forward to.  I'm away next weekend down in London, so it is just the working week to think about.

Another thing I'm trying out this week is building two "fast" days into my plan.  The 5:2 plan has already been written about ad infinitum by far wiser peeps than me, but basically, there are potentially health and weight loss benefits to having two very low calorie (or, in my case, point) days a week.  I've decided to half my points on two days and spread those points out across the rest of the week - somewhat flying in the face of current WW guidance which has a use it or lose it policy for daily points - but we'll see how it goes.

So, the meal plan:

• Monday is fast day number one and to make it easy for myself I've opted for a low calorie ready meal of orzo with prawns from the new City Kitchen range at Tesco, with a decent portion of side salad for bulk.



• Tuesday - venison sausages braised in red wine probably with broccoli, spinach and a jacket potato



• Wednesday is second fast day and I'm thinking poached egg on toast - light and nourishing.



• Thursday, D is coming round and bringing dinner with him; I've been promised slow cooked coq au vin and I'll be providing a couple of side dishes.



• Friday I'm going to indulge in some fish finger wraps - a dish that I'm sure Lauren has pioneered. 

As always, more meal plans over at Mrs M's.

In the midst of life

My grandmother died yesterday.  She suffered an aneurism shortly after Christmas and, although initially she seemed to be responding to treatment, her health took a rapid downturn late Wednesday night. 

I'm sorry, I don't mean to blight your weekend with sadness.  She was an old lady and had been very unhappy since we lost my grandfather back in 2008 - it is a comfort to think that they are now together.  Her life had not been a full one of late; she was obsessed with her own (sometimes real, sometimes perceived) ill health to a ridiculous degree - by the end it was her only interest.  For all that, and for all that I am glad that her final illness was relatively quick and painless and that the family, particularly my father and his brother, have been spared the pain of watching her slowly decline, it is still a shock. 

The only things I can think of to say at the moment are trite - but I'll say them anyway.  Life is precious - good health is precious and those of us lucky enough to have both should value them and never take them for granted.  If that means pulling our fingers out and committing to eating better, drinking less, exercising more (I hasten to add I think primarily of myself here) then we should be doing it not thinking about it or planning to do it one day in the future.  And love, that's precious too.  Give your loved ones an extra tight hug tonight and give thanks for their beautiful selves. 

Meal planning Monday - 14th January 2013

It's been a while since I threw myself into meal planning but if I'm serious about shifting some poundage this year then it really needs to get back on the agenda.


No particular order, but this week I'll mostly be eating:

• Pizza and salad

• Fish, chips and mushy peas (I have had SUCH a fish and chip craving recently - this is a Tesco Finest ready to bake version which will hopefully scratch that itch without racking up too many points).

• Slow cooked beef and chorizo chilli burritos (or enchiladas - I don't really know the difference. Chilli rolled up in tortilla wraps and then topped with salsa and cheese and baked is what we're aiming for here).

• Chicken, leek and mushroom poe. A poe is a "pie" topped with potato - like shepherds or cottage. D'you think the expression will catch on?

As always, more meal planning fun over at Mrs M's.

Recipe corner - Snowy rocky road: a chocolate treat for chilly days

Is it snowing where you are?  I feel a tad short changed here in Leeds - there was talk of snow and yet here we are, clear skies and not a flake to be seen.  Mind you, snow is one of those things that I think I like until I have to go out in it and then remember that I tend to be unsteady on my feet at the best of times and the addition of a layer of frozen water between my good self and solid ground is not a happy one.  And, also, it never stays picturesque for very long, does it?

Although talking of picturesque, I was recently going through some old photos as I transfer the contents of my phone onto my laptop, and I came across one I took a couple of years ago which is my favourite snow scene EVER.  Check it out (and then rap my knuckles for saying check it out - I can't carry off that kind of patois):

If that doesn't utterly thrill you...then you are far less geeky than I am and probably have a life which involves going out on a Saturday night as opposed to following the adventures of a nine hundred year old Time Lord.

Anyway, snowy Rocky Road...now, I know most people are probably currently wearing their January hair shirts and therefore won't be interesting in a recipe that falls under the category of "Indulgent Treat" but I am not drinking (polishes halo) which gives me more points to play with (especially at the weekend), so I am all for a bit of chocolatey goodness.  My Mum made me some of these to go in my New Year hamper and they are utterly lovely - and incredibly sweet, so a small piece goes a long way.  I believe the recipe originally came from Good Housekeeping magazine.

Ingredients

400g white chocolate
25g mini marshmallows
50g dried cranberries
40g pistachios
50g ginger nuts, crushed
55g desiccated coconut

Makes 20, 4 pro points per piece

In preparation for the goodness to come, line a rectangular tin of roughly 15cm by 20.5cm with cling film. 

Melt the white chocolate: break into small chunks and put into a microwave safe bowl, microwave on full power for a minute and give a vigorous stir.  If not fully melted, put back in the microwave for 10 second bursts, stirring after each, until you have a smooth, glossy mass.

Now all you have to do is incorporate the other ingredients, reserving some of the coconut to sprinkle on top.  Depending on taste, you could chop the nuts and dried fruit before stirring through. 

Pour into the prepared tin and smooth the service before sprinkling with the remaining coconut (and if you've got any edible glitter left over from Christmas, throw some of that on too!)  Freeze for about 15 minutes until solid and then cut into squares.  Eat, preferably while contemplating some gorgeous snowy vista.

I'm linking this and my recent soup recipe up to Mrs M's January recipe link party.

Recipe corner - D's frankly amazing mussel and saffron soup

So let us attempt to leave all the doom and gloom behind us and talk Nice Things to Eat.  And this, my friends, is one of my all time favourites.  It would probably be the course with which I would start my final meal on Earth – and I don’t generally hold with soup as a starter.  Even people who think they don’t like seafood love this soup.  In fact, just thinking about this soup (while writing the post) is making me slightly sad that I don’t have a bowlful for my tea.

As with most favourite dishes it comes with a little back story.  Although in this case, the story is pretty much – went on holiday, had this soup, came home and took to the kitchen to recreate.  But imagine, if you will, Paris in early November: crisp, clear days and star flecked nights, a young(ish) couple still in the heady days of early romance, a tiny bistro tucked away somewhere near Montmartre.  That’s what I think about when I eat this soup.  And I also think, gosh, I like mussels.

 

Incidentally, the powder you can see on top of the soup in the picture is dehydrated mussel powder.  Which is made by, er, dehydrating mussels in a low oven. D has dehydrated prawn powder in his kitchen cupboard as well.  He goes in for pretention.

Ingredients

1 kg mussels

2 pinches saffron
500ml white wine
50g butter
5 shallots, chopped finely
2 large garlic cloves
30g plain flour
200ml skimmed milk
200g half fat crème fraiche (ensure that this is at room temperature before adding)

Serves 6, 7 pro points per portion

 

First prepare your mussels – de-beard, discard damaged ones, give a quick rinse - you know the drill.

In a large pan, bring all but a 50ml shot glass of  the white wine to the boil and then tip in your mussels and cook briskly for around 5 minutes until all of them are open (any that aren’t open at the end of cooking should also be discarded).  To the extracted shot of wine, add the saffron and leave to infuse.

When the mussels are cooked (the point at which the majority of the shells have opened to reveal their plump treasures), drain over a large bowl.  D recommends muslin to ensure any grit is caught.  Put aside the delicious liquor and set about removing all the mussels from their shells.  Yes, a slightly tedious job but cook's prerogative – you get to nab a few at this stage.

Now rinse and wipe out your pan and put the butter on to melt while you blitz the shallots and garlic into a smooth puree.  Add this to the melted butter and cook for around five minutes, after which time add the flour and stir vigorously into a smooth paste. 

Ladleful by ladleful return the reserved mussel liquor to the pan, simmering for a minute or so when it has all been incorporated.  You can now add your golden shot of saffron infused wine, the milk and the crème fraiche.  Simmer gently, while whisking, until you have a fragrant, creamy soup base.  The mussels can now be returned to the pan to warm through while you, the cook, season to taste.

Banishing the shoulder chip

Why hello 2013, how nice of you to come.

One week in and already I am unconvinced that 2013 is set to be a vintage year. After spending most of the Christmas period in the bosom of my family I found myself almost looking forward to returning home for a period of quiet reflection and gentle pottering. Oh, and playing with my shiny new laptop (it is purple! Which makes me very happy). But it didn’t take long for that sneaky January malaise to creep in, and instead of being a lovely little haven of peace and quiet and twinkly fairy lights, my house became instead a Fortress of Self Pitying Solitude and Zero Personal Hygiene. Yup, even after four months, I am still not good at Being Separated (although apparently I am excellent at capitalising words). My digestive system did its usual end of December / beginning of January rebellion (every year, every year, I end up spending at least one day in bed with grumbling insides) probably exacerbated this time round by the lack of proper nutrients and, indeed, a regular eating schedule. And then, just as I was considering dragging my self into the shower so that the people at work wouldn’t mistake me for Stig of the Dump, I received some bad news about a close family member who has been hospitalised.

Humph.

I hate self pity, I really do, and I seriously over indulged myself this last week or so. My end of December birthday didn’t help; I think I now qualify for the “mid” rather than “early” thirties bracket and that makes me want to sulk mightily – despite the fact that I got asked for ID buying a bottle of wine just a few weeks ago.

So, my first step towards dragging myself up by my bootstraps is going to be some Reasons to be Cheerful.

1) Four pound weight gain over the entire Christmas period – which started a good couple of weeks before Christmas Day itself and extended itself into the first few days of January. Not bad at all.

2) I have decided to become a dryathlete for the duration of January which means eschewing booze and raising money for Cancer Research in the process. And, to remind myself to stick to it, I treated myself to this gorgeous little teapot necklace from Etsy (I’ll be drinking tea instead of wine – you see? It’s symbolic AND cute). Etsy is a reason to be cheerful all by itself – love, love, love it.

3) I have pink butterfly push pins (Christmas present courtesy of D) and a Lol Cats calendar (courtesy of la mere) on my desk at work, both of which make me smile.

4) My deliciously cute little nephew, who was up just after Christmas, learned to say “Auntie” which was just adorable, as was the fact that he greeted all of his presents with the phrase “Oh wow”. And the best thing about nephews is that you get to enjoy all the cute bits and hand them back to their parents when they get noisy or smelly or both.

See, I feel better already! Now for some resolutions and Action Plans to ensure that the remainder of the month is an improvement on these first few days…

It's been a funny old year...

Ah, the post Christmas pre New Year slump. That time of year when we can barely raise ourselves from the sofa except to stagger to the tin of Roses in the corner.

It's also a time of year that invites introspection. We look at the days the months that have passed us by, strutted their stuff on the stage of 2012, we wonder what, if anything, we would have changed about them.

So much has happened this year for me, so much has changed. And yet there are things that have stayed the same. My weight, for example. How it is possible write what is ostensibly a weight loss blog for two years and basically see little or no change is some sort of half assed achievement, no? When it comes to the Watching of the Weight, I'm like the little kid at the back of the class who can only win a prize if they make one up for him ("Tommy: the award for sharpest pencils goes to you!") But I will never stop trying and maybe that is one of the reasons to write a blog - it helps me to keep on keeping on.

2012 has taught me many things. It has taught me that I am stronger than I had ever supposed that I was. That change should not always be feared. That my family and friends are pretty amazing and will support me no matter what. And really, I suppose, that while I shall always dream of being a bit thinner, I am capable of this strength and worthy of this love, regardless of my size.

What do I want from 2013? I want it to be a year of personal growth (the non literal type, you understand). I want to commit myself to being mentally and physically healthy, I want to work hard and I want to laugh out loud a LOT. Anything that follows on from that can only be good.

Wishing all of you love and joy and the happiest of happy New Years.

2012: the food what I ate

2012 may not have been a vintage year for weight loss (ha! What else is new - Ed) (brief pause to stab Editor with a sharpened bread stick) but, as always, I ate some jolly good food.

It was a year where two of the most memorable dishes I consumed were sandwiches; the lobster roll at Burger and Lobster:

And the monster Reuben at Mishkins:

Which confirms to me a truth always half suspected - sandwiches are probably the best foodstuff in the world.

We didn't do an awful lot of "fayne dayning" this year but I was still fortunate to sample some amazing food in some amazing restaurants. Both of my favourite posh-nosh dishes contain one of my all time favourite ingredients, sea bass. Perhaps in 2013 some sort of sea bass sandwich is in order?? There was this little beauty of a plate at Le Gavroche: sea bass with red rice, braised fennel and North African spices:

And then, at my beloved Star Inn, a pan fried fillet with crispy spiced whitebait and a foaming bisque:

If we're talking seafood, then the unfailing amazingness of the produce in Ardnamurchan deserves a special mention:

And finally, I have to show you what may well be the prettiest pudding of the year - nay, ever:

Again from the Star Inn - a chocolate plate par excellence.

Let us hope that 2013 brings more sandwiches! More seafood! More chocolate! And more amazing memories.

Merry Christmas!

To those of you who read and comment and make me smile on a regular basis...

To those of you who have popped by on a whim or by the happenstance of a Google...

To those family members and friends who keep half an eye in this direction...

To all of you I wish peace and joy and the merriest of merry Christmases.

And so we begin again

Since September, my attempts at losing weight have, if I am honest (and where else should I be but here on my blog) been half arsed. As excuses go, having to come to terms with a new job, moving to a new city and finding myself sans husband and companion of eight years in a single foul swoop, is a pretty good one but excuses are only ever that – never reasons.

I have found it hard to look after myself properly. My eating habits have become erratic. My cooking mojo has wandered off. Whereas when we were two,homecooked meals were served every night as a matter of course, now they are a rarity. I wonder what instinct it is that makes it so easy to care and nurture others but not oneself?

But. Enough already. The coming of the new year is a good opportunity for me to pick myself up, shake the dust of this last twelve months from my shoes and start again. And ok, it might be starting again for the eleventy billionth time. It doesn’t matter how many times you have to restart – eventually, one of them will culminate in a big band finish.

This January I am going to try and be very kind to myself. Lots of quiet evenings, early nights, simple food, gentle swims. I may even book myself in for a couple of much needed beauty treatments. I am going to remind myself that even in the singular, I deserve to be treated well.

Walking in a winter wonderland

This weekend saw me make my inaugural trip to Hyde Park's Winter Wonderland. I don't know how on Earth this has passed me by before; basically a Christmassy themed fairground where it is de rigeuer to wander round with a plastic glass of mulled wine clutched in one hand and a Bavarian bratwurst in the other - a very me sort of place.

Girlie talk and Italian food

Sometimes, what a girl really needs is to go out with other girls, have a couple of cheeky g&ts, some lovely food and a good gossip.

Now, readers of this blog may well be aware that D and I are/were (I'm still not sure what tense is appropriate so I'll hedge my bets) huge fans of J Baker's Bistro Moderne in York, to the extent that we seldom ate out anywhere else when we ate out in that fair city. But Le Langhe, an Italian deli and cafe which serves restaurant food at the weekend, had been on our radar for a while, and on the basis of tonight's meal could well merit future visits. Le Langhe is something of a York institution, twice up scaling it's premises in the last decade, and we often visited the deli to buy the amazing Italian meats and cheese on offer (they do this Barolo cured ham which is to die for) but had never made it for dinner. Shame on us.

A, a friend of mine from university days, booked it having heard good reports about the food although word on the street (she's the mother of a small child which seems to give her access to all kinds of privileged information - sort of like jungle drums for parents) was that service was a bit hit and miss. And we did have to wait a good five minutes for menus because the printer had jammed, but other than that the waiting staff were perfectly friendly and sweet, if a little gauche. Also, despite the limited number of covers, there was no table turning going on that we could see - we were booked in for seven and left a leisurely two hours later.

The menu wasn't huge which I personally consider something of a plus point. A and R both opted for main course pasta dishes which looked and smelled delicious - especially the pumpkin and goats' cheese pappardelle. But, when I saw calves liver with pancetta and sage on the menu, I couldn't resist. I adore offal.


This was scrumptious - well cooked, the liver tender with the faintest blush of pink, the pancetta crispy and salty, the medicinal note of the sage well balanced and underneath it all, a neat little portion of creamy potato gratin to squish into the iron rich gravy. Also worth noting was the really interesting wine list which served a decent number by the glass - I tried a red called Dolcetto which I don't think I've come across before, which ripe fruitiness went beautifully with the food.

We had eschewed starters in favour of desserts and they didn't disappoint. First up was a lemon and prosecco sorbet to cleanse the palate:


And then a delicious hazelnut tart with figs and chocolate mousse for A and I while R opted for pannacotta. The tart looks rather dull and brown in the picture but as with the main course, I was impressed with the way the flavours had been balanced - the delicate taste of the nuts holding their own against the honeyed sweetness of the dates.


So, happy faces and replete tummies all round. It's not the most sophisticated restaurant in the world, but the cooking was of a very high standard as far as I could see and I definitely want to take another look at that wine list. They offer a seven course tasting menu which, on the basis of tonight's dinner I am very excited to try out next year. I never need much of an excuse to visit my beloved York...

Le Langhe,
The Old Coach House, Peasholme Green,
York YO1 7PW
01904 622584

Learning to love Leeds - Kirkstall deli market

A good market warms the cockles of a foodie's heart. And fortunately there is a very lovely one a mere twenty five minute walk away from my new(ish) front door.


I don't know very much about Kirkstall Abbey despite its relative proximity, although Wikipedia reliably informs me that it was established in 1152. It is a beautiful site to wander round, certainly. What makes it even more appealing is that on the last Saturday of every month it becomes host to a fabulous deli market.


This was my first time there and I was very impressed by the range and quality of produce on offer - if, on following that hyperlink, the list of stalls doesn't set your juices flowing then you are made of stone.

It was beyond the limits of our power to sample everything on offer but D did sterling work on behalf of my blog readers - managing to put away a venison burger and a pulled pork sandwich with barbecue sauce. I had a mouthful of both - excellent, particularly the pork. We also indulged in a festive mulled cider - by way of a restorative, you understand. And I must give a special shout out to the sublime Brown and Blonde brownies. I tried a Malteaser one and, had I been a Victorian maiden, there would have been swooning. D reports that the Black Forest one was similarly good.

It is always a pleasure to find such sites and the fact that this one is so close makes it especially so. I for one am going to make Kirkstall market day a regular feature in my diary.

Recipe corner - Crispy lemon sole with potted shrimps and cucumber

I was round at D's last night and he cooked the most fabulous supper that I have to share with you. It's another from Heston Blumenthal's "At Home" book but with nary so much as a tweak or a twitch. Oh - tell a lie, he did double up the amount of cucumber for two people to get it all used up. I like cucumber, it wasn't a trial.

Actually, I tell two lies - potted shrimps can be slightly problematic to get hold of; D used two little 57g pots of Morecambe Bay shrimp available from Waitrose and I have adjusted the recipe quantities shown below to reflect this - hence the slightly odd amount.

This is a delicious meal - light but rich and tasty. Thoroughly recommended.


Ingredients

1 thick slice of white bread
Salt and pepper
Finely grated zest and juice of half a lemon
2 Lemon or Dover sole fillets, skinned
1 tbsp groundnut oil
114g potted shrimp
5g dill
1/2 cucumber peeled, de-seeded and sliced
Pea shoots or other leaves for garnish

Serves 2, 10 pro points per portion

Pre-heat oven to 110C and line a roasting tray with parchment paper.

Cut the crusts off the bread and roll the slice out to about 2mm thick before seasoning with salt, pepper and some of the lemon zest.

Place the fish fillets on the bread and trim them so that they are the same size.

Heat the oil in a frying pan on high heat, and, when hot, place the fish in the pan bread-side down. Sauté for 3 minutes until the bread turns golden brown.

Remove from the pan and place the fillets in the roasting tray, fish-side down, for 5 minutes

Now put the potted shrimp in a small saucepan and warm gently over a low heat. When the butter is melted add the finely chopped dill, lemon juice, the rest of the zest, salt and pepper.

To serve: place the fillets, bread-side up on top of spoonfuls of the shrimp butter, drizzle some of the butter around the plate and with pea shoots.

Three go wild in...Surrey

Foraging is quite the in thing nowadays. Actually, strike that, I think we've passed foraging and progressed to street food. Or have we? I do try to keep abreast of food trends (my prediction for 2013 - fish finger sandwiches are going to be BIG) but I usually fail, mainly because my attitude is if it is tasty, eat it, and if making it is fun and groovy and good for the planet then that's cool too.

Anyway, while dahn sarf recently, my brother suggested a day out foraging in the wilderness which didn't exactly sound like my cup of tea until it emerged that said wilderness was located in Surrey where mobile phone signals abound, that there would be professionals to guide us and that lunch would be provided. Hurrah sez I, sounds like fun, and my Dad agreed. I suspect the prospect of lunch sold him too. And so the three of us, intrepid explorers all, set off along the treacherous pathway that is the M25.

The fruits of one's foraging obviously depend on the season and so ours was predominantly to be fungi based - which is excellent as I am very partial to a good mushroom. This was foraging for the genteel however, and the first half of the day took place in a centrally heated environment (albeit a very attractive converted barn) where we drank coffee, ate chocolate biscuits and looked at pretty pictures of things one could and could not eat. It was not until after an excellent lunch that we strapped on walking boots and set off into the forest.

I have to say, the main thing I learned about foraging for mushrooms was: don't do it unless you have a mycologist with you. Seriously. Our hauls were scrutinised before we were allowed to take them home and an alarming number of very innocuous looking mushrooms ended up in the bin marked "Deadly". I'm not even kidding.

This one is slightly more obviously sinister looking (in a pretty, fairy-tale type way):

The other thing about mushrooms is that however many you think you've got they cook down to much less. Still, our labour was not in vain as my brother put them to excellent use the following morning as part of a post-hunt breakfast.

I don't think that Bear Grylls has a thing to worry about but it was a fabulous day nevertheless. The provenance of what we eat is pretty high profile these days but even so, it is rare to have the experience of getting out there and retrieving it with your bare hands and when D2 served up breakfast to the family the next day I felt distinctly proud. I'd be interested to do it again at other times of the year when the focus of the hunt (if one can use the word hunt when talking about mushrooms and other assorted woodland plants) would be different.

There are plenty of these courses available if you sniff around online, but I would thoroughly recommend the chaps who ran ours, not least because they were both self proclaimed foodies who were not only interested in the foraging side of things but the cooking as well and the lunch provided was excellent. Let me tell you, a tummy full of guinea fowl stew and apple tart really helps when you're plunging your hand into dank undergrowth. Check out the Wild Harvest website here.

Recipe corner - date and orange muffins

Yesterday, after a day in the classroom, I was seized with the desire to come home and bake. This muffin recipe has been in my file for a long time and, while a low fat cake is a) something of a contradiction in terms and b) never quite the same as a full throttle one, these are tasty moist little things, perfect for those days when you need cake for breakfast. Which, let's face it, is most of them.

I would apologise for the fact that I have half fat butter in my fridge, but it is still quite early in the morning and I'm sleepy. So I'll just say that yes, I know true foodies will snort in derision, hang my head in shame and get over it. I find that Anchor and Lurpak lighter options are both fine for baking and sandwiches and help shave off a few points here and there. Which means that you can have more of the good stuff slathered on your toasted crumpets or freshly baked bread.

Ingredients

200g plain flour
60g muscovado sugar
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp bicarbonate of soda
100g dried dates, chopped
100ml skimmed milk
120g low fat toffee or vanilla yoghurt
1 medium egg
Zest of 1 orange
50g half fat butter, melted, at room temperature

Makes 9 muffins, 5 pro points per muffin

Preheat your oven to 180 and line a muffin tray.

Set aside 10g of the sugar.

Then, combine your dry ingredients: flour, remaining sugar, baking powder and bicarbonate and stir through your chopped dates.

Now whisk together the wet ingredients: milk, yoghurt, egg, zest and melted butter.

Can you guess what happens now? Yep, briskly combine the two. Conventional wisdom is that you should never over stir muffin mixes. I just let my Kitchen Aid at them for 30 seconds or so which was fine.

Spoon in the muffin cases and sprinkle over the reserved sugar. Bake in the oven for around twenty minutes.