19/01/2013

Necessity is The Mother of Invention…Carrot Houmous and Cinnamon Honey Chicken

I was browsing the food pages of the internet this week, as always, and came across what I thought sounded like a fabulous recipe. I’ve always got too many carrots, so I wanted to use them instead of watching them turn into sad representatives of food waste, virtually overnight. I am rapidly coming to the conclusion that carrots are the pear of the vegetable world.

I found this blog post: http://www.garnishwithlemon.com/2012/10/22/carrot-hummus/

As I had no tahini, I made the best of what I did have.

3 cups cooked carrots

2 cups (1 can) chickpeas, drained

Juice 1 small lemon

2 large cloves smoked garlic or 1 fat clove of unsmoked (stronger taste)

1/2 tsp salt

1/2 tsp cinnamon

1 tsp cumin

Heaped tablespoon smooth peanut butter

Extra virgin olive oil

2 level tablespoons ground almonds, to add a bit of bulk

salt to taste

Put all of the above in a food processor and blitz. Drizzle in the olive oil so that it thins the mixture to a spreadable consistency, or to however you like your houmous. I prefer mine thick and quite grainy.

Leave it to sit for a while to develop. If you can.

Houmous with sumac

To go with this I made a chicken dish up out of what I had in the cupboard.

4 chicken thighs, skin on

1 tin chopped tomatoes, good ones. I used Cirio as they have a nice, rich juice

2 cloves garlic, sliced

1 tsp cinnamon

Squeezy honey

2 tsp sweet smoked paprika

2 handfuls of dried chopped prunes

Cook the chicken skin side down in a dry pan (one that can go in the oven)

When the skin starts to turn golden, turn the chicken over.

Scatter the prunes around the chicken.

Pour in the tomatoes, trying not to get too much over the chicken skin.

Add the cinnamon and paprika and mix in.

Tuck the garlic slices into the tomatoes.

Drizzle honey over the exposed chicken skin.

Simmer to meld the spices then pop into the oven.

Bake for 40 minutes on about 170ºC Fan, Gas 5.

IMG_6088

Houmous with chicken

18/01/2013

13/01/2013

Sunday Staple: Featherblade and red wine stew

I make stew rather a lot. It’s a nice easy dinner, and if you make enough, you have some for the next day and some for the freezer. I also love the smell of it cooking merrily away while I potter about for the rest of the day.

The vegetable amounts are approximate. I used enough to feed 5, as I always cook for leftovers. I put the potatoes in later so that they won’t fall apart, as featherblade does take a while to cook down.

3lb featherblade steak (any stewing cut can be used, but this is our definite favourite) cut into chunks

2 slices smoked bacon, diced

8 carrots, sliced (I don’t peel)

6 potatoes, peeled and cubed

1 bottle red wine

2 tsp ground cinnamon

1/2 tsp onion salt (husband hates onions, so I use this)

1/2 tsp garlic salt (it adds another bit of zing)

Good pinch dried oregano

2 cloves smoked/unsmoked garlic, sliced

1 tbs HP sauce

1 tbs dark French mustard

2 Bovril stock cubes (much nicer than Oxo, cheaper than Knorr stock pots)

1 wineglass of water

Brown the meat off in batches, add to a large ovenproof casserole dish. (I will be honest here, sometimes I don’t bother, I just bung everything in the one pot, mix well and cook -  though if using bacon, I cook that off first. It still works.)

Cook off the bacon in the same pan you cooked the meat off in, then add to the meat.

Pour a good glass or two of wine into the cooking pan to deglaze, and dissolve all the dry spices in it, plus the crumbled stock cubes. It will thicken up! Do not panic.

Tip this mixture over the meat in the pan.

Add in the carrots, the rest of the bottle of wine, water, the fresh garlic, the mustard and the brown sauce. Mix well.

Cook, covered, on 170ºC Fan for three hours.

Add in the cubed potatoes, mix, cover and cook for another 45 minutes, covered, then take the lid off for the last 15 to thicken up the sauce.

I ladled out some of the liquid and reduced it in a pan to make it thicker and more rich. Definitely works!

Featherblade stew

12/01/2013

Ikimiz–Kyrenia, Cyprus

I know this isn’t really fair of me to review a place that hardly anyone will get a chance to go to, but I was so impressed with this restaurant that I had to write about it. I also had to share some of my rather bad photos with you, in the vain hope that they might manage convey some of the magic that this place holds.

Going to Cyprus for Christmas was wonderful. Getting to see my Mum for the first time in years doubly so. We spent time visiting various places, cooking and eating and generally talking and catching up. A lot of time was also spent fussing the cat, and on a cold night in Cyprus, sitting in front of the fire surrounded by Christmas lights and watching silly TV, stroking a wildly purring, warm kitty is a perfect thing to do.

Kizi

The Friday before I was due to return to Blighty, Mum took me to a local restaurant, tucked away in the old quarter of Girne, right next door to a Greek church, though now deconsecrated.

Entrance

It looks pretty unassuming, and quite small at first glance. This was a traditionally built Cypriot home, and has been turned into a restaurant, run by mother and daughter. It’s called Ikimiz, which means “The Two of Us.”

The welcome is warm, in manner and in temperature, and we were very glad of both. It really does feel like you are in someone’s living room, that you are just out at a friend’s house for dinner.

I simply had to explore.

The view from my seat at table:

Gramophone

The gorgeous painted door next to us:

Door painting

The entire place is full of artwork and decoration, all done by Fatma, the Mama and chef proprietor.

I decided to have a wander about outside.

What I found when I came out of the restaurant part was quite unexpected.

This was what I could see from our table, and I wanted to know what lay beyond that.

Courtyard view

To the right, as you walk outside, there is a covered bar area ‘walled’ by plastic, where people were sitting with a calor gas fire, drinking and chatting. It looked very cosy indeed, with cushions and warm fabrics.

Just past that there are steps up to another courtyard.

Courtyard steps

Everywhere you look, there is a personal touch. An old bike fixed to the wall, as though the rider has just raced in from school and left their bike leaning. Pretty cups, or coffee pots placed here and there, but none of it contrived at all. The feeling that someone absolutely adores this little place is obvious throughout.

Up the steps and there it all is.

My photos do not do justice to the breathtaking effect of standing under a cold indigo sky, and seeing an orange tree in full fruit in front of you. To me it felt as if I had found the tree of golden apples, completely by accident.

IMG_6033

Every part of this homely, comfortable place has something that has been chosen with care and love.

Orange pile

Oranges

I could have stayed out there all night, hearing the gods speak and watching the years roll by. But dinner called.

IMG_6023

First a beautiful lemon drink, which was a cross between lemon and orange. I have a suspicion it was made with the same lemons as the ones I hauled back to England in my suitcase. A cross between a tangerine and a lemon. The drink was sweet, but not sugary, and tart enough that it was refreshing.

Lemonade

Next up, a small appetiser of toasted bread and crushed coriander olives.

Toast and olives

The hostess, Latife,  brought out a menu on a blackboard so that we could choose the rest of our dinner. It’s not a big menu, but that is good, as if there were any more dishes, choosing would be nigh on impossible.

All the cooking was taking place in the walled in kitchen next to us, and every so often Fatma (Mama and chef) came out to say hello and ask how we were, talking to my Mum as if they were old friends.

Mum chose macaroni layered with meat and topped with a béchamel sauce, I chose assorted dolma. Vegetables stuffed with finely ground lamb.

Everything tasted of my childhood, which is what I wanted, and what my Mum knew that I would love. Cypriot food, for me,  is set slightly apart from Greek food. There are more spices, a more Arabic influence perhaps. Whatever the reason, it is the food I grew up with, and often crave. So far our meal and hit every button. (The photos will not be brilliant, as it is very dimly lit.)

Dolma

Latife then brought us out a crunchy, fresh salad, with spikes of herb flavours and a light dressing.

Salad

Mum had chosen steak and I went for spiced minced meat wrapped in homemade filo pastry with almonds.

Mains

I think it is safe to say that they do not stint on portion sizes.

Meatloaf

I’m not sure how I managed it, but I did. Mainly because it was so very tasty.

The pastry wasn’t heavy at all, even though it had soaked up the sauce, and the spiced lamb was soft and well-flavoured with a fine texture. The sauce, or gravy, call it what you will, was deeply savoury and very meaty. For me, the addition of rice and potatoes was a bit too much, but then I don’t really eat an awful lot of carbohydrates usually. This time though, I was not going to miss out!

There was no way we were going to have room for dessert, or even a coffee.

We just sat, relaxed, listening and watching the restaurant bustle around us.

Even the Ladies’ Toilets have been made to look pretty. I loved the door

Mirrored Door

and the painted mirror too.

Mirror

Not a surface, or a wall, or a corner has been neglected. You are eating your dinner in a house that is loved, looked after by people who exude charm and kindliness.

I may have wanted to kidnap this chair.

Chair

While we sat and chatted, Mama came out of the kitchen, took off her chef’s hat and shook out her hair, obviously done for the night. She came and spoke to my Mum, and although I can’t understand Turkish, I got the gist of “Is this your daughter? She looks like one of us!”

I should point out that Mum and I do not have the same colouring, so it takes people by surprise at first.

Me and Mum

The next thing I knew I was being hugged by Fatma, and given a kiss on both cheeks. Believe me, when in Cyprus, you get used to this pretty darned quickly. No British reserve here.

Finally we said our goodbyes, and went out into the night. There was a full moon, and the sky was almost luminous with it.

Church tower

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The streets were very dark, and the houses looked all the more cosy for it. I didn’t want to leave but we were both starting to fall asleep, and Cyprus driving is fairly interesting at the best of times, but with no street lights…I shall leave it to you to imagine.

IMG_6067

We bid everyone a fond farewell, and returned home to sleep the sleep of the very well fed.

Fatma Erim “All I ever wanted was to make our place feel like your own home, like you’re sitting in your own garden enjoying traditional home-made Cypriot food.”

http://ikimiz-kyrenia.com/

10/01/2013

Smokey Split Pea and Bacon Soup

Two posts in one day! Gosh.

The weather has turned, and with it my food cravings. All I wanted today was soup, so when I saw a big packet of split peas for 65 pennies, my mind was pretty much made up on the spot. I only had to buy an onion and I was all set.

My soup turned out to be so very nice, that I am sharing it with you, not ten minutes after I have finished eating it.

(I used American measuring cups because that’s what I have and I didn’t want to generate more washing up.)

2 and 1/3 cups hot water

1/3 cup yellow split peas

1 red onion, chopped into small chunks

2 rashers smoked bacon, chopped into small bits

2 cloves garlic, sliced (I used smoked)

1 Knorr chicken stock cube

Olive oil

1 knob butter

Sauté the chopped bacon in the olive oil.

When the bacon loses its translucence, add in the onion and sauté on a gentle heat until it starts to soften.

Add in the garlic slices, along with the butter. Mix well to coat.

Pour in all the water, and the peas.

Bring to the boil, turn the heat right down to low, add in the stock cube and leave it on a low heat, stirring every so often, for about 45 minutes to an hour.

Eat. Feel better.

   Split peas

Ingredients

Finished Soup

Trinity Stores, Balham

I’ve been following the @TrinityStore Twitter account for a while now. I can’t remember how I found them, but their feed usually makes me laugh, and also makes me very hungry.

I was waffling on about how I’d brought some beautiful lemons back from Cyprus, thin skinned and almost a cross between lemons and oranges, and I happened to mention I’d me making lemon curd. The Trinity Stores social media lady expressed much interest, so I decided to take her a jar when I was next in the vicinity.

That day was today.

I headed off from East Croydon and got to Balham pretty quickly. The stores are very easy to spot, being located right opposite the rail station’s exit. I hurried across the road, desperate to get out of the biting wind. I failed to get a photo of the outside, because I was so cold, but I should have done. It looks so welcoming! My apologies for not providing that bit of viewing.

They do look like they should be nestled in a village somewhere, possibly with Miss Marple sitting inside having a pot of tea, although that would elevate the possibility of foul play, so maybe not Miss Marple…if anybody used to watch Mapp & Lucia, then you will know that kind of quintessential English village setting I mean.

I had been told to ask for Rick when I got there, and I dutifully passed over the jar of pale, creamy looking preserve. It’s quite sharp, and very lemony. I believe Faye (that’s the social media lady) is going to make a cake with it. There was a discussion about what it was, and where it was from, and then it was carefully placed in the fridge for safekeeping.

Serving

Rick very kindly offered me a coffee and some cake. I let him choose which cake, as there was no way I could decide.

Gorgeous Coffee

The coffee was divine. Strong and full of flavour but not bitter, and the cake…Oh my, the cake. They had chosen to give me me some lemon, olive oil and rosemary cake, which not only smelled and looked amazing but tasted fabulous too.

CoffeAndCake

Soft and juicy, sweet but not overpoweringly so. It had an almost treacle tart taste, but was so much more. I took my time over it, because I didn’t want it to end.

Lemon olive oil rosemary cake

The very patient people who work there then let me potter about taking photos of the place. It's been so beautifully put together, there's not a corner that hasn't been thought about.

Birdie

This wee birdie made me smile so much.

The staff have all had input into the decor, Rick has left them to it and they have made it into a haven of peace and loving quirkiness. 

Shelves and table setting               The Chocolate Shelf

Chocolate corner!

In the evenings they put candles out to make it a relaxing place to be, and it certainly is that. It maintains an air of gentility, even during lunch hour, when people are in and out all the time. The background music is at the perfect volume, in no way invasive, and lets you sit and think.

TeaandMusic

If you are ever in Balham, try to go. It's right opposite the rail station entrance.

Menu

They also gave me some grapefruit and poppy seed cake to take home for Tex. :) I bought some scotch eggs - they do six kinds including a vegetarian one - and a pork pie so Tex and I will try those out tomorrow. 

cakes

Mmmmsausages

   Wine

Gingerbreadhouse

I wish that I lived nearer, because this warm and welcoming place would be my regular retreat from the outside world. It has a sense of timelessness to it, from the faint tinkling of old-time music to the assorted crockery.

It’s not forced hipster, it’s not practiced shabby chic, it’s just a place formed out of a genuine love for what they do. I can’t wait to have occasion to go back.

It’s amazing what you can discover, just from a Twitter chat about lemon curd. 

5 & 6 Balham Station Road
Balham
London
SW12 9SG
Tel: 0208 673 3773

http://www.trinitystores.co.uk/

21/12/2012

Mini Christmas part II

On Friday, a neighbour called round in the evening with a big box for us. I hadn’t ordered anything so was a bit puzzled until I saw Kelly Bronze Turkeys on the side. Ooh.

As a thank you for visiting the farm, Paul Kelly had gifted all of us bloggers with one of their fabulous turkeys. Here was mine, and it took me rather by surprise! Yes, those are the giblets in a bag. Believe me, they make FABULOUS stock. I simmered them with 2 shallots to make stock for a sauce and the smell pervaded the house.

Surprise turkey

We had planned to have a Christmas with my in-laws weekend of the 15/16th, as I’m going to be away over the actual Christmas holiday, so we would have taken the turkey up to Suffolk, but pa-in-law came down with Norovirus so our visit got cancelled. Now we had the turkey, so what to do?

I had no room in the fridge or freezer, but luckily the weather cooperated and I popped the whole thing outside. It was so well packaged that I didn’t have to worry. The icepacks were still frozen the next morning, and stayed so until well into the afternoon. It was have been a very determined cat or fox to get into that lot of packaging.

Saturday night was going to be Roast Turkey Dinner night!

I read all the instructions, weighed the turkey on scales which then went EEEEEEEEE at me, so after a certain amount of jiggery pokery I guessed that it was around the 5 kilo mark and cooked it accordingly, making use of the meat thermometer that Kelly’s kindly send out with each turkey.

I have never seen such an amount of meat juices in  a turkey roasting tray before. I did not add any butter or oil. I just put some shallots and a lemon in the cavity, and salted the skin. It needed nothing else at all.

Cooked upside down initially, and then turned and finished off breast side up,  it retained all the moistness in the breast, which made it a pleasure to carve. I took the breast off in one whole piece, which made it much easier to carve up and portion out. It’s what I do when carving a roast chicken, but this took a bit more effort, the bird being that much bigger.

I can also happily attest to the fact that if the turkey has reached the temperature of 65ºC at the thickest part of the breast, it is done. It does not need to be cooked anymore, just taken out and left to relax, uncovered. No more danger of chalky, crumbly breast meat and don’t worry, it stays perfectly hot.

Served with olive oil roasted potatoes, green beans for Tex and steamed, buttered sprouts for me.

But what to do with all the leftover meat? Turkey and ham pie.

I had enough meat to make two pies, each one enough to feed four people, and I still have some dark meat left in the fridge to snack upon.

The pie was a great success, so here’s the recipe.

Food Processor Shortcrust Pastry (makes just over 1lb pastry)

300 g (11 oz) plain flour

150 g (5½ oz) butter, straight from the fridge (I use half lard and half butter here)

2.5 ml (½ tsp) salt

about 60 ml (4 tbsp) cold water.

Fit the stainless steel blade.

Put the flour and salt in the bowl and process for a few seconds to mix.

Cut the fat into pieces and add to the bowl.

Process on speed 2 for 5-10 seconds until the mixture resembles fine breadcrumbs.

Use the food pusher to measure the water.

With the machine running add the water through the tube and process until the dough just forms a ball.

Remove and knead lightly until smooth.

Wrap the pastry in cling film or foil, and chill for at least 30 minutes before using.

Divide the pastry in half and roll out. You need enough to line and top an 8” x 1” pie plate.

Line the pie plate, leaving a bit of overhang to allow for pastry shrinkage. I do not own any baking beans, so I just pricked the base all over with a fork so it didn’t puff up too much.

Bake at 180C for about 15 minutes then take it out of the oven to cool.

 

Turkey and Ham Filling (this is approximate, as I’m afraid I just threw it together.)

Lingonberry or cranberry sauce

1/2 a whole turkey breast, cut into cubes

4 thick slices of cooked gammon, also cubed

3 carrots, cut into small dice and cooked (I microwaved them for 8 minutes)

1/2 cup of frozen peas

1 leek, very finely chopped

500 ml turkey or ham stock (You can use any stock you have)

2 tbs plain flour

About 1 tbs butter

1 tsp mild mustard (use whatever mustard you like, but don’t use too strong a flavoured one or it will overpower the turkey.)

Pinch salt

1/4 cup milk

Fry the leek in butter until softened. Add the carrots, peas and meats, and mix well to combine.

Heat the stock, and melt the butter in it.

Add the mustard and milk and whisk to combine then whisk in the flour until no lumps remain. The sauce will thicken if you keep it on a low heat.

Pout the sauce over the meat and vegetables and mix well.

Put a couple of tablespoons of cranberry sauce into the bottom of the pastry case and spread the sauce around.

Pile as much of the meat mixture as you can into the pie base, brush the edges with milk or beaten egg and then cover with the second half of the pastry.

Press the lid onto the base and crimp to close. (I am very haphazard, but it sealed anyway. Just didn’t look very pretty!)

Brush the top with more beaten egg, cut a slit in it so that the steam can vent and bake at 180C until golden.

Turkey Pie

 

Turkey Pie close up

A friend is having goose this Christmas, and I think this pie recipe would work well with leftover goose too. I’d probably make the sauce a bit more zingy, as goose is so rich, perhaps adding in orange zest and a bit of redcurrant jelly.

13/12/2012

A mini Christmas, all of my own.

It’s been a bit of a whirlwind of job applications and agency interviews recently, so much so that my brain has been distinctly frazzled when it comes to cooking, churning out the same old thing because it’s easy. My usuals are okay, but every so often I need a change.

I was on my way back from another agency when I stopped at the big Tesco by Liverpool Street station. This store used to be fabulous, stocking pretty much everything you could wish for, but then they redesigned the shop floor and, of course, that meant losing lines. Despite this, it’s still not a bad supermarket, even if they have crammed everything in so you feel rushed and claustrophobic, but I suppose at least that makes people get out fast.

I found fresh chestnuts, and decided on a whim to buy those, and some parsnips plus a Gressingham poussin. A nice solo dinner, with a Christmas edge. I bought Purple Sprouting Broccoli too, but that’s awaiting my attention in the fridge.

I got home and unpacked my haul, realising that I had enough parsnips in my £1 bag to make not only my dinner, but also a cake as well.

I set about grating the parsnips and putting this fabulous cake recipe from Sabrina to the test. (obviously cake before dinner right?)

It was easy to do, and I came out of it with only minor battle scars. Apparently my box grater is about due to be replaced, and the knuckle of my thumb bears testament to this. Ow. 

My tweaks were to leave out the nuts, because I had none, cut down the amount of baking power to 1 level teaspoon and the bicarbonate of soda to 3/4 of a teaspoon, as I am quite sensitive to the taste of those, and to add 1 tsp mixed spice plus an additional tsp of Rose extract. Oh, and to use olive oil and Demerara sugar as that was all I had in. Sorry Sabrina! I fiddled again!

The smell of that cake as it bakes is lovely. The Demerara gives it a caramel note, and I added the mixed spice to make it more Christmassy, as I want to take it to my in-laws on Sunday for our early Christmas dinner, planned because I’m flying out to see my Mum in Cyprus for the holidays.

I can also say that having your electronic scales die on you as you carefully pour in the oil to a cake mix can leave one temporarily flustered because of course you cannot remember the digital reading before they died.

Parsnip and Honey Cake

225g plain flour

3/4 teaspoon of bicarbonate of soda

1 level teaspoons baking powder

2 heaped teaspoons ground cinnamon

1 level teaspoon mixed spice

4 medium free range eggs

100ml clear honey (I used a Greek herb honey)

200g Demerara sugar

2 teaspoons vanilla extract

1 teaspoon Rose extract

180ml of rapeseed oil or olive oil

400g of parsnips, peeled and finely grated (this ended up at 300g grated weight)


Preheat the oven to 180ºC (or 170, if fan assisted)

Mix flour, raising agents and cinnamon in one bowl.

Whisk eggs, honey, oil, extracts and sugar in another bowl until properly amalgamated. (I had to guess the oil, as my scales died as I was pouring the oil in!)

Pour into the flour, add the grated parsnip and mix very well.

Pour into a springform cake tin that’s been lined with baking paper. (I oiled the paper.)

Bake for 45-50 minutes. (Mine took longer, I suspect my tin was a bit small, so it took an hour.)

I can’t wait to try this. I can’t take a photo of the slice, as I won’t actually cut it open until Sunday, but here is Sabrina’s cake. Smile

Parsnip-Cake-610x300

Next up was Actual Dinner.

I had roasted the chestnuts as per instructions found on the internet, but they turned out to be very dry, and almost impossible to remove from the shell. Luckily I found a tin of unsweetened chestnut puree in the cupboard, so my dreams of a parsnip and chestnut mash were fulfilled.

Take one cast iron/oven proof pan. Heat it slightly on the cooker, then pop in the poussin.

Douse with olive oil, pop a pat of butter on the top and a sprinkle of salt. Cook at 170C for about 45 minutes.

While that’s cooking, boil the peeled and chunked parsnips until very soft.

Add an equal amount of chestnut puree.

Add at least a tablespoon of butter, and a touch of olive oil, then blend. I used a stick blender and the motor overheated, which is why I added olive oil. I think I need a new stick blender, as mine is very old!

Grate in 1/4 tsp fresh nutmeg.

Serve piping hot alongside the juicy, buttery poussin.

I served it right in the cast iron pan it was cooked in, because that way the mash got all the juices from the poussin as well. It’s a gorgeous mix! Steamed Brussels would go fabulously here as well, to cut the richness.

Poussin and Chestnut Mash ii

The mash would work very well let down with chicken or vegetable stock to make a smooth, silky soup, perhaps with some crispy smoked pancetta shards sprinkled on top.