Excuses, excuses

I've been an exceptionally bad blogger over the past month. I can only apologise. Life seems to have got in the way. I could offer a whole ream of excuses... Too much work, too little time, a holiday, the flower-sender, illness, a broken fridge... All I will say is that I endeavour to be better in April. Spring is in the air and I'm feeling inspired and ready for action in the kitchen once more.

In case you are concerned that I've not been eating this month, I have a few culinary highlights to share. I've been lucky enough to have been cooked for several times this month. Particularly enjoyable was a visit home to the Isle of Wight and a dish of boiled mutton with caper and onion sauce.

This old-fashioned dish made its way onto the table due to my father. This is a surprise as he rarely takes much interest in the cooking - he can just about fry a rasher of bacon but that is about his limit. Fortunately, my mother more than makes up for it by being a wonderful cook. Anyway, he had heard through a friend in the pub (!) that there was good mutton available at the local farmers' market. He was reminded of a dish he used to enjoy at a golf club in Liverpool in his younger days (he is now in his eighties) and had his heart set on my mother recreating this flavour of his youth!

My poor mother. The recipe that she found was one of the most time-consuming, labour-intensive recipes imaginable. When we greedily devoured the finished dish and declared it delicious, she didn't know whether to be pleased or not. She certainly didn't want to have to make it again in a hurry.

It was the first time I'd eaten mutton and I really enjoyed it - the flavour wasn't as strong as I'd imagined and the meat was perfectly moist. The onion and caper sauce went beautifully too - well done Mum!

A couple of weeks ago, I was also treated to a deliciously good lamb curry cooked by the flower-sender. What was unusual about this curry is that it was cooked in the oven in the same way as one might cook a casserole. I've not cooked a curry this way before but it was extremely good.

Other highlights of the month included a lovely day spent at Borough Market - we bought a good-looking joint of venison which I marinated in red wine and crushed juniper berries before sealing in a hot pan and roasting briefly in the oven. Served with dauphinoise potatoes, it was very flavoursome but a little on the tough side.


Finally, I must mention the picnic I enjoyed with my niece and nephew a couple of weekends ago. It was a glorious sunny day and so I planned to pick up some goodies in M&S before taking them to Battersea Park for a feast of cheese, cold meats, dips, olives, fruit and chocolate biscuits. No cooking involved - I didn't have time. Upon their arrival, I asked my niece to name her favourite picnic food so that I could be sure to include it in our feast.

Her reply: 'chocolate-covered strawberries'!

Not quite what I had in mind. As I opened my mouth to tell her that we couldn't have her favourite item, I realised that we could make our own before heading off to the park. The children loved dipping the enormous strawberries in the melted chocolate and waiting for them to set on the greaseproof paper. The out-of-season strawberries tasted all the better for their coating of chocolate.

Here's to being a better blogger in April - lots of deliciousness heading this way soon!

Fishy behaviour: salmon with tarragon butter and samphire

Yes. I am aware that this is not a picture of a salmon.

It occurred to me the other day that I've featured only nine fish recipes since I started blogging over a year ago. I have to hold my hand up and say that I am not a bit eater or cooker of fish.

But I do love a fresh bit of fish and think that it is time to start redressing the balance. It is true that I don't cook fish all that often and don't even order it all that often when eating out. I'm a bit of a carnivore, I suppose. My greedy eyes skimming over the fish dishes on a menu and finding their way to the meaty dishes. I'm not sure why this is. I mean, I grew up by the sea. You'd think I'd be an enthusiast of all things scaly and slippery.

I think that part of the problem is that I no longer have a really good fishmonger nearby. I'm surrounded by superb butchers but have not yet discovered a reliable source of fresh-as-a-daisy delicious fish. I'm therefore rather reliant on the local supermarket. The choice there is uninspiring and one wonders how fresh it really is.

I also panic slightly when it comes to cooking fish. I come over all nervous when face-to-face with whole fishes. I can see them looking at me, challenging me. Laughing at my incompetence even. So, I tend to stick to 'bits' of fish instead. I eat a lot of salmon. Some trout. Fillets of smoked haddock, cod, pollock, coley - that sort of thing. I also tend to be quite conservative about what I do with those bits of fish. I have a few trusted recipes that I stick to and tend not to experiment as much as I do with every other avenue of food.

Last weekend, I spent two heavenly hours in Whole Foods on Kensington High Street. This flagship store really is heaven for food enthusiasts. If you haven't yet been, then do. It is spread over three floors and is bursting with every foodstuff imaginable. When I first heard the store was coming to London, I couldn't understand what all the fuss was about. I've been into a few Whole Food Markets in the States and whilst they are clearly a notch above the average supermarket, I didn't notice anything particularly out of the ordinary. This enormous version in Kensington? Definitely out of the ordinary.

Anyway, I picked up lots of interesting ingredients and produce and headed bravely to the fish counter chanting silently to myself 'I WILL cook a whole fish tonight. I WILL cook a whole fish tonight. I WILL cook a whole fish tonight'. When I got there are gazed into all those beady eyes though, I came unstuck. They didn't have the fish I'd decided upon and I couldn't decide what else to choose. I bottled out and found myself blushing while I asked for a 'nice BIT of salmon'. Pathetic.

I returned home with my tail between my legs.

The upshot of this sad, sad story is that I did actually cook a very nice salmon dish. It rather took me by surprise as I don't really like tarragon. I'm not quite sure why I even bought the tarragon. Perhaps I bought it to punish myself for the pathetic performance at the fish counter. In any case, it was good despite the tarragon! I also tried my hand at cooking samphire for the first time. I love this salty, vibrantly green stuff. It can be hard to find but fishmongers often sell in in July and August, when it is at its best. It doesn't keep too well, so cook it as soon as you can. I steamed mine and slathered it with butter. It is very salty, so I didn't add any and went easy on seasoning the accompanying salmon too.

Here is the simple salmon recipe. Next time I promise to do better and brave it with a more adventurous fish!

Salmon with tarragon butter and samphire
Serves 1


Ingredients

Salmon fillet
Generous knob of butter
Tablespoon of chopped fresh tarragon
White wine
Samphire

1. Preheat oven to 180C. Lay two sheets of foil or baking parchment out on the counter and place the salmon fillet in the centre.

2. Make the butter. Chop up a the tarragon and mix into the butter. I softened mine in the microwave for ease. Place butter on top of the salmon fillet.



3. Pull the sides of the foil/parchment up around the salmon to make a loose parcel. Before sealing at the top (by folding the foil over), pour in a little white wine. Place the parcel on a baking sheet in the oven and cook for around 20 minutes.

4. Meanwhile, prepare the samphire. Wash and then steam for about three to four minutes. The samphire should still have a nice crunchy bite to it. To serve, add a little butter to it. Samphire likes butter. So do I.


5. Remove the salmon parcel from the oven and serve immediately.

Madeira Island - no place for vampires

My holiday seems like an age away already! Since returning on Saturday, I've been to Leeds, Sheffield and Nottingham, driven a high sided van down the A1 in the storms and had my car broken into. But just looking through the photos a moment ago reminded me of what a lovely week it was. Madeira is a stunningly beautiful place of rugged mountains, glittering sea, dazzling flowers and smiling faces.


The natural beauty of the place really is staggering though unfortunately, many visitors don't get to appreciate all that the island has to offer. Too many remain in the capital, Funchal, and delighted by its pretty cobbled streets, gorgeous gardens and stunning situation fail to venture into the rugged interior. Those who do will be rewarded by towering mountains, breathtaking views and a taste of rural life that has hardly changed over the past century. What a refreshing change from the usual hurly-burly of life in London!


Of course, that is not to say that Funchal isn't a great city. Sitting in a natural amphitheatre, it is the ideal base for a Madeiran holiday. Our hotel was situated in the hills a little way from the centre and had spectacular views over Funchal bay, the harbour and the Atlantic ocean. By day and by night...

But what of the food? Well. I'm not sure I'd recommend Madeira as a gourmet's paradise although it certainly has the raw ingredients - the mild climate mean that exotic fruits and vegetables are in abundance. A visit to the colourful mercado dos lavadores is a must to see all that the island produces. There were numerous fruits I didn't even recognise! What is truly remarkable is the terrain on which Madeiran farmers cultivate their crops - steep terraces cut into the mountainside make working the land back-breaking and laborious. And there is no rest for the wicked - the climate means that most fruit and vegetables ripen several times a year. It is not unusual for farmers to get four lots of potatoes in a year! Taking a walk through the farm terraces was a real eye-opener - I even saw my first ever avocado tree.


Unsurprisingly, fresh fish and shellfish is also delicious when prepared simply with olive oil, a little garlic and herbs. The speciality is 'espada', or black scabbard fish. To look at one, freshly caught, you might not be so keen to eat it. It is hardly the most appetising-looking specimen. This is because these fish live in the very depths of the ocean, surfacing only at night when they seek shallower waters in which to feed. Fishermen head out at around 2am to seek their catch to sell at market the following day...

I really enjoyed this fish - a fairly firm white fleshed fish with a pleasant flavour. It appears on every single menu, usually cooked in five or six different ways so it was fortunate that I liked it! I didn't try it cooked with banana - a speciality that I just didn't fancy!

Quality of meat was also excellent, in particularly the beef which was beautifully tender. I was slightly concerned that this was because the cows spent their lives living in tiny cowsheds on tiny terraces and therefore didn't move much, but I tried not to dwell on this too much. Some meat is also imported from the Azores. My favourite Madeiran speciality was the 'espetada' - a food usually served on high days and holidays. These are rather smart kebabs, I suppose. Large chunks of melt-in-the-mouth beef skewered with laurel twigs and grilled over an open flame. These are often served on extra long skewers which are hung ceremoniously above the table. This terrible photo should give something of an idea!

We enjoyed our 'espetadas' with sweet potatoes and salad, but fried bananas (!) and corn on the cob are also traditional.

Every meal should also begin with the really delicious 'bolo do caco' which is a type of flattened bread served with garlic butter and parsley -



Espetadas are also made with the ubiquitous black scabbard fish, mixed sea food and lamb. The best meals that we ate were the ones that were simple - seabass fillets grilled and served with a simple selection of vegetables, steak cooked to perfection on a hot stone and huge tiger prawns cooked with garlic. In fact, garlic featured in most dishes. Vampires visiting Madeira should beware. In my mind, attempts to 'smarten up' the food were less successful. Chefs seemed to be somehow stuck in the 70s or 80s - fiddly methods, prawn cocktails and an unhealthy obsession with flambéeing. Actually, the latter was quite welcome. I am particularly fond of crepes suzettes and the theatre associated with the whole flaming ritual was entertaining to watch...

During the week, I saw flambéed bananas, steaks, oranges, pineapples, prawns and pancakes.

Puddings haven't quite made it to Madeira - fresh fruit is the usual choice and is absolutely delicious, of course. I did enjoy a particularly good 'Pudim maracuja', or passionfruit pudding which was a creamy thing served in a glass, sweet and sharp at the same time - excellent. The Madeirans make up for their lack of puddings with an excellent array of cakes. Madeira cake as we know it in the UK is not, in fact, something you would find in Madeira. Bolo de Mel is the traditional cake of the island and it is delicious - a rich, dense honey cake made from sugar cane molasses and the odd nut plus a generous helping of spice. A bit like a dense ginger cake. I must find a recipe and try to reproduce it.

Of course, the thing I should really comment on is the wine. I absolutely adore Madeira wine. The wines are fortified and then matured in barrels in the sweltering hot attics of Madeira lodges, or heated in estufagem. This treatment would ruin most ordinary wines, but it is what makes Madeira so wonderful. The grape varieties in question take on a burnt caramel character with oxidation and the wines can be gloriously complex and interesting. Sercial and Verdelho wines are off-dry and make fantastic aperitifs served with a handful of nuts or a plate of cheese. Bual is somewhat sweeter and Malmsey the sweetest of them all. Malmsey is wonderful with chocolatey or nutty desserts or with a cup of coffee at the end of a meal.


Sadly, too many of us are familiar only with cheap cooking Madeira which can make wonderful sauces and gravies, but I urge you to discover the better wines. The best thing about them is that unlike Sherry and Port, they really do keep forever once open, especially the darker Bual and Malmsey wines. So, open a bottle, enjoy a glass or two and happily store in the cupboard until you fancy another glass (...if you can wait that long)!

Baked apples and John Denver

Tomorrow, in the immortal words of John Denver, I shall be 'lea-ving on a jet plane' to head off for a week's holiday on the beautiful island of Madeira. I cannot wait for a relaxing week in the sunshine (fingers crossed) and taking in all that this great island has to offer. The sub-tropical climate means that almost any fruit or vegetable is easy to grow and the abundant flowers are just breath-taking, to say nothing of the marvellous ocean views that meet you round every corner. I can't wait to head straight to the mercado dos lavradores which is one of the most colourful fruit, vegetable and flower markets I have ever visited. Just beautiful displays of exotic produce waiting to tempt!

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So, I apologise in advance for the quiet week ahead but I hope I'll be back next week with tales of delicious meals at seaside restaurants and of course some stories about the marvellous and truly underrated wines that are the islands speciality - I'm looking forward to a glass of Sercial before dinner on the balcony, watching the sun set over the ocean... Bliss...

But I wouldn't want to leave you hungry, would I? Another sweet post tonight - usually I try to alternate - but I realised that I cooked these some time ago and never got around to blogging them. No time like the present, I thought.

I think I've been going through a bit of a nostalgic time of late, what with toad in the hole, rhubarb fool and now... baked apples. These were another childhood staple - the perfect pudding to make when you have forgotten about pudding but need to produce one. You see, there is no recipe as such. You just stuff the apples with whatever you have in the storecupboard (... well, almost 'whatever' - I haven't experimented with the tuna as yet). And of course it is a little tricky to produce them if you have no apples. And actually, not that great if you have no form of dried fruit. So actually, you should ignore the earlier comment.

Let's just say that I always have the ingredients to hand and it is an easy winter pud that everyone seems to enjoy.... Well... everyone apart from those who don't like dried fruit... Or apples... I must stop making these sweeping generalisations.

Then again, I don't think I've ever met anyone who didn't like apples.

Baked apples

Serves as many people as you want

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Ingredients:

1 apple per person

Any combination of the following:

sultanas, raisins, currants, dried figs, dates, dried apricots, mincemeat, ground or flaked almonds, stem ginger in syrup

Golden syrup

Brown sugar (muscovado, demarara or whatever you have knocking around)

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1. Pre-heat the oven to 180C. Take a sharp knife and cut a slit around the circumference of the apple to prevent it exploding in the oven. Cut out the core of the apple to leave a good sized hole for stuffing with your yummy ingredients.

2. Layer the ingredients up - a bit of fruit, a bit of sugar, a few nuts, more fruit, some syrup, more fruit etc. Push the filling down with your thumb to pack in as much as possible. Finish with some brown sugar and drizzle with a little golden syrup.

asdf 3. Place in an oven-proof dish and pour a little water into the dish (half a centimetre is about right). Pop in the oven for around 45 minutes until the apple is completely soft.

4. Serve with custard. Not cream. Have you got that? These beauties should be served with custard. Definitely. Whether you like it or not! I'll be upset if I see cream anywhere near them..! Really.... Ok. If you really must. Just don't let me see you!

Notes - at Christmas, I love these with mincemeat and ground almonds. Otherwise, I usually stick with traditional raisins and sultanas - perhaps with a little stem ginger just for fun!

How do I love thee Borough Market? Let me count the ways...

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee for thy fruit and veg and meat
The quality of which cannot be beat,
For the best end of lamb and ideal fish.
I love thee for the clatter and clamour
Of market traders, by sun and candle-light.
I love thy seasonality, as I strive to get it Right;
I love thee purely, thy beef I shall Braise.
I love thee with a passion put to use
In my old kitchen, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I doubt I'll ever lose
With my lost rolling pin, --- I love thee with the hunger,
Smiles, meals, of all my life! --- and, if God choose,
Next time I'll buy more cheese from your cheesemongers.

So, I think that Elizabeth Barrett Browning had the edge (mind you, she probably spent more than five minutes thinking it up), but I'm hoping that my first (and undoubtedly last) foray into poetry will give you an idea of just how much I love the fabulous Borough market. I can be there in 25 minutes, yet I don't go nearly often enough. I love the hustle and bustle of the crowds that descend on Saturdays, I love the contrasting smells that fill the air and I love the passion held by each market trader. I love to watch people greedily biting into Ostrich burgers, fresh-as-a-button scallops and freshly shucked oysters...




I love the free samples. I love the weird and wonderful ingredients. I love the enthusiasm. I lovet that there is a stall entirely devoted to the products of the Orkney Islands...



I love that you can buy a chorizo burger or a gourmet sausage in a bun. That you can buy a huge vat of olive oil or the teensiest drizzle of truffle oil. I love that I always buy twice as much as I intended to. I love the setting, in the shadow of Southwark Cathedral...

Most of all, I love the sheer diversity and variety of this colourful and noisy market. Everything you could want to eat from the smelliest cheese...

....to the freshest of fish....

... to the featheriest of fowl...

I was lucky to leave with a bunch of the first of this year's forced rhubarb. I made a wonderful rhubarb and ginger crumble - what a treat. The recipe will follow of course. But I thought I'd just leave you today with a word on the wood pigeons that I bought last week at the Clapham Farmer's Market. I decided that I would keep it simple and roast one of the birds for my supper and serve it with roasted potatoes, Chanteray carrots and parsnips (and the requisite peas, of course).

The key with any small game birds is keeping the meat nice and moist - they dry out really quickly. The woodpigeon was small enough to wrap the entire birdie in streaky bacon. I pulled out the giblets (retaining them for the gravy) and stuffed a little onion and thyme inside the cavity, along with a knob of butter.

I then roasted at 200C for around 40 minutes. I removed the bacon for the final 5 minutes to brown the skin a little. There was a little juice which I used, with the giblets, to make a deliciously rich gravy. The meat was delicious but there was quite a lot of work involved for a relatively small amount of meat. I think that next time I might remove the breasts rior to cooking and cook them quickly to serve as part of a salad. It was a good meal overall though - I should have made some bread sauce to complete it however.

I still have one wood pigeon to go, so would love to hear of any ideas you may have to ring the changes with the next one. I'm leaving you today with the glorious sight of the Houses of Parliament at sunset which I enjoyed when I decided to walk home along the river from Borough Market.

Chicken and Chives

I've always thought that January was a rotten time to make resolutions. In particular those involving eating healthier. January is such a miserable month - cold, damp, grey and uneventful when compared with the joyous month of December. I always crave comfort food at this time of year, not salads. Save the salads for spring and summer when the sunshine puts one naturally in the mood for these kind of lighter meals. The British seasons understand this perfectly - I don't see any lettuces or tomatoes flourishing in the garden at present. Comforting root vegetables and tasty game are flavour of the month instead. I'll save my salad days for when the salad actually tastes good!

Yesterday, I took a trip to my local farmers' market, just of the Abbeville Road in Clapham South. It runs very Sunday from 10am to 2pm (very civilised, I've always thought). Though quite small, there are always a good selection of tempting stores. Just look at this bread for starters...


I picked up a whole goody bag of game - some pheasants, a couple of wood pigeons, a pack of pheasant breasts and some diced venison. All are safely stowed away in the freezer for the time being, but you can expect some nice game recipes in the weeks to come. I've not cooked wood pigeon before - if anyone has any bright ideas, then do let me know. I generally cook for one so thought they would be the perfect size.

Anyway, I had a chicken breast to use up before I started on the game. I decided to use a recipe of my mother's that I've not eaten for a long time. The sauce may be on sweet side for some - it depends on the brand of grape juice you use - but I think it is rather delicious. As usual for the mid-week, it is very speedy and easy to whip up. I'm not quite sure where it came from originally - it is one of those written in a splattered kitchen folder that I have.

Chicken and Chives - serves 4

4 chicken breasts
1oz butter
1 teaspoon oil
8 fl oz white grape juice
6 1/2 fl oz double cream
handful of chives, chopped
1 tsp cornflour

1. Fry chicken in butter and oil to seal in a non-stick pan.

2. Pour on grape juice and simmer 15-20 minutes.

3. Blend cornflour with cream.

4. Pour cream into pan and heat until almost boiling. Snip chives over the top and mix well.

5. Serve chicken breasts with the sauce poured over the top. Good with mash and green beans.