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It was in the Guardian magazine and looked tasty and wholesome which is just the thing when you wake up on Saturday morning feeling less than complete and utterly narked by the complete idiocy of the London electorate in voting for an upper class Tory idiot cos he made them laugh on the telly and it hasn’t occurred to their barely functioning brains that this man is now going to be an advert for one of the most important capital cities in the world. The Evening Standard and its unbelievably bigoted stance on everything have brought him to power and have thereby underlined how vital it is that London has a real newspaper rather than a Daily Mail repackaged for unthinking drones.

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What to do with a squash, that eternal question. Should I bake it, fry it, foam it, render it into a mere suggestion as accompaniment to something less orange, or should I take the soup route. Like the silk road but gloopier, the soup route will inevitably involve stock, garlic and onions, the very essence of the kitchen cupboard basics. And so on one of the hottest days of the year and staggering under the weight of a paranoia-enhancing post-bank holiday gueule de bois I put together this charming soup. It’s got cheese in.

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I got this recipe from Simply Recipes - an excellent foodblog by Elise Bauer. Other essential reading on the web this week was this article on Guardian Unlimited, which in turn leads to the very informative and equally disturbing ‘Wolf at the Door‘ website by Paul Thompson. Enjoy avocados while you can and don’t say you weren’t warned. I’m not mad you know.

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The front page of Ken Livingstone’s campaign website is frozen in pre-election time with the simple message ‘Don’t vote for a joke. Vote for London’. Shamefully, it seems Londoners (or at least the 45% who could be bothered to get off their arses to vote) fancied a bit of a laugh. Anyway, this depressing result left us in need of comfort food and what better than a lasagne?

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Now it seems it’s no longer middle class enough to simply bake your own bread. To be a fully paid-up member of the bourgeoisie takes more time. We have to allow our dough to slowly ferment overnight to encourage friendly bacteria which will protect our delicate constitutions from bloated, irritable bowels and leaky gut-type conditions. On a less intestinal note, it is also meant to result in a more nutritious and tasty loaf and so had to be worth a punt.

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Regrettably the dodgy photograph below does not do this recipe any justice. Even the desperate and clumsy application of random photoshop filters has failed to give an impression of the deliciousness of this dish.

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For those of you not in the know and unwilling to look it up on Wikipedia, paneer is a cottage cheese used in South Asian cooking. It can either be crumbly or in block form, doesn’t contain rennet and so is completely vegetarian, and refuses to melt when heated. It has a good texture but its flavour is the mild side of bland. It is essentially just a conduit for other flavours and needs to be spiced up or marinated. Don’t we all.

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With my itinerant sister in Libya I thought I’d seek out something vaguely Libyan for the blog. I’d heard tell of unfathomably sweet tea, stodgy pudding things and meaty dinners, none of which appealed, so a short trip round the internet later I found this salad. It may be wholly unrepresentative of the diet of the Benghazian archaeologist but it is just the first foray into the cuisine of the land of the Great Man-Made River.

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This is an interesting recipe from ‘The Crank’s Bible’ which would make a great vegetarian option for Sunday roast or even Christmas dinner. Be warned though, it’s fairly involved and time-consuming and probably scores 8.75 on the International Scale of Faff … but it is worth the effort.

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There were mixed feelings about this recipe at yumblog cottage. One of us had never had Jerusalem artichokes before and so was keen to give them a try, while the other was force-fed them as a child and is still suffering from flashbacks. However, as with most things in life, novelty won out over experience and this soup was the result.

This is a Nigel Slater recipe.

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According to Babel Fish couronne is French for crown, and according to the title this loaf is meant to be couronne-shaped. But it was snowing, I got over excited, couldn’t concentrate, and failed to read the recipe properly. As a result I missed out one small, but essential, step and by way of punishment the gods ’sealed up my hole’.

WARNING – middle-class joke: Less of a Couronne, more of a Cul de Chat.

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This morning my co-blogger expressed a desire for asparagus with a supplementary fancy of chilli. Combine this with a lunchtime purchase of parsley, a basil plant wilting on the windowsill, and the recent gift of a superb slab of Parmesan from Parma, and you get the recipe below:

And here be a short film about asparagus.

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It seems every house I visit these days has a copy of ‘Jamie at Home‘ lurking in or around the kitchen. Personally I am not a great fan of the ‘celebrity chef’ cookbook, although truth be told this is a very well produced and photographed book and one of the best currently doing the rounds. I just can’t make my mind up about the man himself. For me he sits like an excited, dribbling, idiot-child somewhere between the admired (Floyd, Stein, Kerr) and the despised (Lawson, Ramsey, Woodford).

If you look carefully you might be able to make out the face of our
Blessed Virgin Mary crying a garlic tear.

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The weekend started with a nostalgic ‘The Only Ones‘ gig at Koko, and ended with a boozy tapas extravaganza of which this was the main attraction. Between the two the sun shone on Bethnal Green, a traveler returned and Thunderbirds Were Go.

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I’ll tell you what bugs me, people who travel to work in the morning drinking their tea/coffee from those aluminium thermos mugs. They’re designed for camping in the woods, not commuting from Forest Hill. Are we supposed to look on enviously and wonder at the cool, impulsive, incandescent lives led by these urbane creatures? Probably. I know I certainly do. Another thing that bugs me is spell checkers which try to force you to spell aluminium, aluminum.

Serving Suggestion: Cheese not included

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Working until 7 on a Friday is never what I would class as fun. And when there’s a gig to go to then even less so – a gig with a 10pm curfew too. So I got to the pub at 7.30, inhaled two pints of Pilsner Urquell and then to the gig. The Only Ones at Koko - the erstwhile Camden Palace. A great crowd had gathered including perhaps as many as 5% women. The chaps varied in style from the beer-bellied fleece wearer to the Keith Richards-alike via several haircuts. Cans of 1664 for £3.50, a rare treat.

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So after all the parsimoniousness of Lent we bought some Greek yoghurt and went crazy. The first part of that sentence is based on fiction alone. Indeed a fiction built on a fiction, but hey that’s a whole ‘nother thing. Having on previous Saturdays spent rather long periods of time at Borough Market and its fine pubs, we eschewed such pleasures and used what we had. Apart from the aforementioned Greek yoghurt.

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Well, we’d done a spot of shopping down the road and as we passed the local baker - Percy Ingle - I thought of Scotch Pancakes, it was, after all, tea time on a Saturday in the rain. Then I thought of that being a greedy thing and simply walked on by. Then I got home and thought again what a lovely thing it would be to have a Scotch Pancake and a cup of tea. So I made some and they were rather nice.

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The British asparagus season starts on 30th April and ends just eight short weeks later on 25th June, midnight - roughly. Fortunately it must be in season somewhere else in the world at the moment as the shops are awash with the stuff at £1.50 a bunch. Generally I prefer it as nature intended, au natural with a sprinkling of rock salt and a generous knob of slowly melting butter, however it is currently so plentiful other means of eating it needed to be found …

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In the U.S. the sweet potato is incorrectly referred to as a yam. But there again it’s the land where they call aubergines - eggplants, courgettes - zucchini, biscuits - cookies, jam - jelly, jelly - jello, and torture - water boarding. That said, it’s not technically a potato either. It’s sweet though.

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If you came here in search of an American-style muffin to accompany your tall caramel macchiato, then you’ll be disappointed. They’re not muffins, they’re cakes. If however you are in search of an English muffin which is light and yeasty and perfect for toasting and smothering in butter, then you’re in luck. A word of warning though, this recipe is a fairly involved three-stage, two-day process.

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WARNING: In order to prepare this dish you’ll have to master the subtle art of crumbling feta cheese. But don’t worry, if you find this daunting and would like guidance, there is a website to help you. If you need help with grating the courgette or holding a spoon then I’m afraid you’re on your own.

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Cauliflowers are very much in at the moment. Plus, like snow flakes, crystals, mountain ranges, lightning, river networks, pulmonary vessels and broccoli, they are a fine example of fractal geometry in nature. So when you’re cooking this remember to keep in mind D = Log N(L) divided by the log of 1 over L. Enjoy.

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My fellow blogger recently bought me ‘Roast Chicken and Other Stories’ by Simon Hopkinson. Voted the ‘most useful cookbook of all time’ by somebody or other, it’s a superb book which is not only packed with inspirational recipes, but also makes excellent bedtime reading. It doesn’t have any photographs (usually a prerequisite for any cookbook), but it doesn’t seem to matter as Simon Hopkinson’s writing is so descriptive. I am going to pretend I bought it when it was first published in 1994 and snort with derision at anyone who doesn’t own a first edition. This parsley soup is the first recipe I’ve tried.

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This recipe (as well as the three side dishes posted below) were in the current issue of the Observer Food Monthly. Looks good in the photograph doesn’t it? A succulent pan-fried fillet of bass sitting on a vibrant dish of coconut curry and scattered with various decorative bits of shrubbery not mentioned in the list of ingredients. If you cook this (and it IS delicious and highly recommended), bear in mind it will look nothing like the photograph in the magazine - which seems to be a different dish entirely.

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Be Proud. ‘Onions are an essential, healthy food for the modern consumer. And because of our ideal climate and the expertise of British Onion growers, packers and processors, British Onions are the world’s finest!’. So says the British Onions website. Be triply proud. This recipe uses THREE different types of onions.

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And talking of the end of the world, ‘Enjoy life while you can’ is an interesting and alarming article about James ‘Gaia’ Lovelock and his thoughts on climate change. Subsequent meandering research on Mr Lovelock somehow lead to this great ranting podcast by Bill Oddie. ‘Spring Watch’ will never be the same.

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Inspired by The Observer Food Monthly we cooked up an Indian spectacular at the weekend. This is the third and final side-dish of a meal still waiting to be written up.

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I have to be in the mood for mussels and that mood strikes about twice a year. Even when I’m in the mood I still find them slightly revolting and try to avoid looking too close at what I’m eating. I think that’s part of the pleasure.

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I’ve made two exciting discoveries recently. One is the existance of a Waitrose only ten minutes walk from where I work, and the other is the cheapness of calamari. The two are connected as the former sells the latter. In fact this Waitrose is off Whitecross Street which has an excellent food market … a third exciting discovery.

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I love these little beasties. Fried and salted and accompanied by a cold tube of Cruzcampo. Tradition and statistics dictate that 29 out of 30 are mild and sweet with the remaining rogue being hot and fiery. I’ve never seen them sold in this country before but have recently discovered them tucked away on a stall in Borough Market.

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Among other things in the fridge there was half a cabbage and six eggs. Not ordinary eggs you understand, but eggs generously laid by Dolores, Fifi, Jolene and Daphne. Perfect fresh eggs with deep yellow yolks and firm whites - the likes of which you’ll not find in any supermarket. The cabbage in contrast was ordinary.

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We had guests so there would have to be pudding. The day before the Guardian magazine had featured a rhubarb and custard tart and it sounded so lovely and looked so pretty that I just had to give it a go. And so to Borough Market where the pricing on rhubarb varied wildly from £4.50 a kilo to an extortionate £7.20. The stems were narrow so the shape wasn’t kept but the taste was great. And just look at that custard. It’s scented with vanilla from a herbs and spices stall at Borough Market. The owner of which gives you the life history of the £3-a-pop-Madagascan-plucked-by-maidens vanilla pods and you can’t conceive of buying a dried vanilla husk ever again.

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I intended to use sole for this recipe but when I saw the £26 a kilo price tag I nearly bolted in panic. Fortunately my fellow blogger calmed me down, took control of the situation and purchased two splendid (and considerably cheaper) fillets of plaice instead.

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On 14th February I became the privileged owner of this ‘Imperia Raviolamp 12′ ravioli mould. It’s made from lightweight anodised aluminium with an enameled steel base and stands on four non-slip rubber feet. It comes complete with a miniaturised rolling pin turned from the finest Italian beechwood. This weekend I took her out for a test drive.

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If your experience of a Cornish pasty is eating a near frozen Ginsters in the car park at Heston services, then refresh your palate by giving this recipe a go. Actually Ginsters pasties contain plum jam and are very good … but give this a go anyway.

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As well as being very tasty, Soda Bread is also great when you need a loaf in a hurry or can’t be arsed with all that kneading and proving. Unfortunately on such occasions you’re unlikely to have soured cream (a major ingredient) and a desperate trip to your local urban Costcutter is guaranteed to prove fruitless. Luckily for you this recipe uses a mixture of Cream of Tartar and milk as a substitute. What do you mean you haven’t got Cream of Tartar in your cupboard?

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For this recipe you’ll have to invest in a bottle of Mirin which after extensive research, I discover to be a sweet alcoholic seasoning made from rice and yeast. You’ll also be needing some salmon - a member of the Salmonidae family of fishes, distinguished by its pale pink flesh and popular among humans. Salmon are of course anadromous.

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Searching through my book of breads I came upon black bread. It brought back fond memories of the rush to join the throng following the bread van as it arrived with fresh warm supplies, back in the pre-Lukashenko Minsk of 1993. And then I had to get rye flour which meant another trip to Holland and Barrett as no other shop appears to stock it which strikes me as crazy in these days of burgeoning wheat intolerance.

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A lunchtime trip to Holland and Barrett for sundry dried fruits and seeds meant there were now things to put in things for extra flavour/texture/goodness - I believe the term is ‘value added’. And so to my value added loaf. Not merely a humble malthouse loaf but one now boasting bonus tasties such as pumpkin seeds and pine nuts.

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