January whizzed past at a rate of knots this year and barely anything I cooked registered as worth a blog post. Except these, which are possibly my favourite fast-food discovery for a while. Late-night food in my flat barely lifts above toast but, once again, Fuchsia Dunlop’s great book has given me reason to make a little more effort. Continue reading
If ever there was a weekend for this recipe, it’s this one. The rush and post-prandial fug of Christmas may be lifting, but there’s still an indolence in the air, a desire not to start anything new, or too energetic just yet. I, for one, cherish this inbetween week, when the world slows and nothing much seems very important. I can barely be bothered to dress let alone cook. Which is why, and when, this ‘forgotten’ lamb is perfect. Continue reading
We had the first frosts this week. Well, the first ones in London. And, though it was wonderful to wake up to such bright, sharp cold, it made me realise how lucky we have been with the weather this autumn. Nothing but crisp, sunny days, barely a trace of rain, and plenty of leaves to crunch. Now, though, it might be time to buy some new gloves and to succumb to real comfort food. Soup and toast are no longer going to cut it.
For me, there is nothing more comforting than some kind of hot potato dish, whether mashed, roasted or baked. My personal favourite is dauphinoise potatoes because they always feel like a treat, yet they are one of the most straightforward shove-in-the-oven dishes about. You can eat them on their own, with some salad or with a roast, make them into a meal by adding some smoked mackerel or, for a vegetarian and very-low-on-shopping version, this one, using dried porcini, is a delight. Continue reading
Fern Verrow, for those who don’t know (and I didn’t) is a biodynamic farm in the Black Mountains, in Herefordshire, run by Jane Scotter and Harry Astley. They farm and grow produce all year round, helped by two people for part of the year, and sell some of it in London, on Saturdays, here. Their book came to my attention via a somewhat circuitous route. First, I saw an Observer round-up of autumn recipes, which included one of its recipes then, a few days later, re-acquainting myself with the main Islington library, I noticed that they had a really well-stocked cookery section. And there was a brand-new copy of this book which, as far as I can tell, no one else had ever borrowed.
I hope, by writing this blog, that I can encourage you either to borrow this from your own local library or buy a copy because it is one of the most useful and beautiful books I have had the pleasure to use and, though not explicitly vegetarian, is exceptionally inspiring if you are. Continue reading
I usually have a list of blog posts that I want to write, stacking up like airlines waiting to land. And, sometimes, I get to them as planned and sometimes I don’t. If life gets in the way, either the post I was thinking about will be pushed down the list by another, or nothing gets written at all.
This week, for example, I spent three days in bed and, though I had planned to try a few vegetarian recipes for a dinner with friends, both the cooking and the dinner were cancelled thanks to not being very vertical. I have had no appetite, and no interest in recipes. I knew I was feeling better when I started craving something other than glasses of water, when I started to think about what would make me feel well again. Continue reading
I struggle with the start of autumn, with the shift from sitting out on long, light evenings to darkness and drear. Then, little by little, the joy of cooking with blackberries, plums and squash, of making stews and cakes, of practically snuggling up to every meal for warmth and comfort takes over and I am happily ensconced in my steamed-up kitchen, cooking, listening to music, feeling cosy.
But there are certain things I carry over from the summer, like the thought of particular dishes and drinks that I make repeatedly. This year, throughout July and August, I made a particular cocktail, the Rebujito, over and over again. And, already this autumn, I have discovered the colder weather equivalent, the Cadiz Bramble. Continue reading
Writing a book, I think, is quite a feat. Writing one and getting it published is even more impressive. And, considering both of those things, writing one and publishing it yourself seems practically superhuman. Self-publishing used to have a bad reputation but, these days, it is often both accepted for what it is (see tales of Amazon success here and here) and also seen as a very laudable route to finding a mainstream publisher.
So, in amongst the more ‘classic publishing’ cookbooks I have worked on this year, I was really proud to help someone self-publish their first. I was approached by a friend of a friend, Hilary Cacchio, to help her put together her book about sourdough and it is, if I say so myself, really lovely. Beautifully illustrated by animator Kate Charter, it is both a precise teach-yourself how to make bread book, but also a recipe book that will inspire you throughout the year. Continue reading