This week (10-14 October 2011) is both British Curry Week anc Chocolate Week 2011. Yesterday was also Mental Health Day. Busy!
Chocolate. Curry. Chocolate AND curry? Much to my US Twitter friend @Malooka65 I found that a restaurant in Glasgow, Scotland (her husband's hometown) serves King Prawn and Chocolate Curry. He'll be making that himself, then.
I also found this: http://www.monicabhide.com/2011/05/chocolate-chicken-curry.html
While I have to say that the combination doesn't particularly appeal, I am going to make it. I would have already but I lacked cocoa powder. I've got some cherry hot chocolate, but I think I need to make the recipe 'properly' before I experiment. I went to a wedding a few years ago where we had chocolate tasting at the reception. The happy couple had bought lots of posh choc from places like Hotel du Chocolat, smashed them up, put them on plates, labelled them and handed them round. Fennel chocolate, chilli chocolate, cardomom chocolate etc. It was a great icebreaker (as well as being dessert). I should say at this point that I had managed to get myself sitting next to a gorgeous eligible bachelor at this point, asked him for a date at the end of the evening and went out with him for 18 months! And I don't have a sweet tooth...
Another dish/sauce/seasoning I have never tried is Mexican mole (pronounced moley) which often, but not always, as far as I can tell, involves chocolate. If it works in one spicy cuisine, why not in another?
Anyway, I have long been a fan of 'strange' combinations. I can't remember whether it began in Israel or Turkey, but some American hippy who'd lived in Hawaii introduced me to watermelon and salt. The best way to eat it is with seasalty hands sitting in the sea. It gives just enough saltiness to bring out the flavour.
Strawberries and pepper is a well-known classic that I hadn't tried until recently. The next combination came to me in Fortnum & Mason. Mum and I had some Royal Academy/Fortnum exhibition/meal deal through the Sunday Times. Ridiculously cheap. About £15. Daft. For 'pudding' I had the cheese plate. The Stilton was presented with stem ginger. It was a revelation and I doff my Baker Boy to whomsoever discovered that taste sensation! It may work with other cheeses too. I know that apricot is often paired with both white Stilton and goats cheese. The latter makes perfect sense in Greek and Turkish cuisine.
My favourite food comes from the Middle East and North Africa. Fruit is often included in savoury/main dishes. I like this. Prunes, plums, apricots, figs and raisins are wonderful additions, I find. Many people feel that fruit (except tomatoes) has no place other than in dessert. I disagree because I'm not great at eating sweet food, so to include it in a savoury dish means that I get towards my five a day.
I like this site: http://www.lovefoodhatewaste.com/recipes The menu on the right of the homepage 'What Food Needs Using Up?' is great for ideas on how to not waste that cauli you bought with every good intention but languishes in the fridge days later. And the rest. A single householder, like me, may well waste far too much money on food that goes off, unless he or she buys microwave meals each day. Supermarkets are still not geared towards the single householder and it's all too easy to overbuy unless you have a) a will of iron, b) a menu plan or c) shop in butchers, fishmongers and greengrocers. Which we should do more.
That was off topic, but something I may come back to. My final combination came about because I had some lamb and peaches that needed eating. 'Lamb peaches recipe' I Googled. I can't remember how I cooked the lamb, but I did make a salad with skinned peaches, cherry tomatoes, fresh mint, chilli pepper, spring onion diced small and a little olive oil and lemon juice. Brush the peach with lemon juice so it doesn't go brown.
If you have any combinations to share, please do. I'd be fascinated to read them. Even if they involve my food nemesiis (sp?) prawns and gammon.
See you on the other side.
Rosie the Mini, 2008
Tuesday, 11 October 2011
Wednesday, 5 October 2011
Learning to Link with Lincs
This is where I'm was born and brought up: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lincolnshire
My parents still live in a small village in the Vale of Belvoir. The posh squash is made nearby: http://www.belvoirfruitfarms.co.uk/about-us/our-history as is Stilton cheese, over the county border in Leicestershire. Most will pronounce Belvoir with a French accent 'bel-voir'. Locally it's pronounced 'beaver'. I have no idea if this was originally intentionally smutty.
Another local delicacy is Grantham gingerbread, which is made to rise and hollow using baking powder and bicarbonate of soda. I usually make a ancient, handwritten recipe of my Mum's which I don't have to hand at the moment and I haven't tried this one out, but I'm sure it's as good as any: http://greatbritishkitchen.co.uk/recipebook/index.php?option=com_rapidrecipe&page=viewrecipe&recipe_id=521&Itemid=28
When I find the family recipe, I'll post it. Grantham Gingerbread, which hasn't been made commercially for a number of years, is to be baked and sold again locally. Properly made, it melts in your mouth.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grantham Less of a delicacy to many, Margaret Thatcher was born in Grantham. We both went to the same grammar school some 50 years apart. I'm old enough to remember free school milk and was one of the few children in my class who liked it.
http://sedgebrook-village.co.uk/
http://myweb.tiscali.co.uk/hampson/
Although always appreciative of the beauty of the area, growing up, there was very little to do. Sedgebrook, the village in which I lived from age 11 had 4-5 buses into town and back per day, The latest being around 6pm and it was too far to walk and to expensive, as a teenager, to get a taxi. The village has neither a shop nor a pub nor a school; the next village, which did, was a cycle ride away. We were taken to school by school bus, but any after school activities involved one of my parents driving to town to pick us up.
There are currently 280 adults in Sedgebrook; as you can imagine in a village that size there weren't many children. There were probably 10-15 of the same age or within 3 years of my age. Still it was safe, pretty, crime-free (my Dad has been known to leave car windows open at night accidentally) and everyone knows everyone (and their business). Aged 14, I got the plum local job, that of collectiving weekly milk money door-to-door for the local milkman. I did that job every Monday night for four years, racing round to collect the money (which could take ages as I know everyone), racing home, putting my leotard on and being driven in for my acrobatic class). After class, I'd tot up the money, take it over the road to the milkman and have a cuppa with the family. Homework rarely got done on a Monday!
On the back of this, I also had a bit of a babysitting racket going on. I was the go-to girl in the village for that, which I was very happy about. Alarmingly for me, several of the children I babysat now have children of their own.
My first boyfriend, with whom I am still in touch, while not literally the boy next door, did live around the corner. If we wanted to 'go out' in the evening one of our parents had to take us to town and bring us back. Neither of us had much money so we didn't even do that very often. In the village, apart from the village hall, which had a bar, there was nowhere to go except each others house. We ended up agreeing to going back to being mates after a few months. A 'relationship' was pointless. I made sure my next boyfriend had a car!
In September 1992 I flew to Tel Aviv to begin my gap year. I didn't live there again until 2000 when I was working in Nottingham and applying for jobs in London. I go back three or four times a year to see my parents, but after a few days peace and quiet, this Londoner needs her metropolis!
See you on the other side
My parents still live in a small village in the Vale of Belvoir. The posh squash is made nearby: http://www.belvoirfruitfarms.co.uk/about-us/our-history as is Stilton cheese, over the county border in Leicestershire. Most will pronounce Belvoir with a French accent 'bel-voir'. Locally it's pronounced 'beaver'. I have no idea if this was originally intentionally smutty.
Another local delicacy is Grantham gingerbread, which is made to rise and hollow using baking powder and bicarbonate of soda. I usually make a ancient, handwritten recipe of my Mum's which I don't have to hand at the moment and I haven't tried this one out, but I'm sure it's as good as any: http://greatbritishkitchen.co.uk/recipebook/index.php?option=com_rapidrecipe&page=viewrecipe&recipe_id=521&Itemid=28
When I find the family recipe, I'll post it. Grantham Gingerbread, which hasn't been made commercially for a number of years, is to be baked and sold again locally. Properly made, it melts in your mouth.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grantham Less of a delicacy to many, Margaret Thatcher was born in Grantham. We both went to the same grammar school some 50 years apart. I'm old enough to remember free school milk and was one of the few children in my class who liked it.
http://sedgebrook-village.co.uk/
http://myweb.tiscali.co.uk/hampson/
Although always appreciative of the beauty of the area, growing up, there was very little to do. Sedgebrook, the village in which I lived from age 11 had 4-5 buses into town and back per day, The latest being around 6pm and it was too far to walk and to expensive, as a teenager, to get a taxi. The village has neither a shop nor a pub nor a school; the next village, which did, was a cycle ride away. We were taken to school by school bus, but any after school activities involved one of my parents driving to town to pick us up.
There are currently 280 adults in Sedgebrook; as you can imagine in a village that size there weren't many children. There were probably 10-15 of the same age or within 3 years of my age. Still it was safe, pretty, crime-free (my Dad has been known to leave car windows open at night accidentally) and everyone knows everyone (and their business). Aged 14, I got the plum local job, that of collectiving weekly milk money door-to-door for the local milkman. I did that job every Monday night for four years, racing round to collect the money (which could take ages as I know everyone), racing home, putting my leotard on and being driven in for my acrobatic class). After class, I'd tot up the money, take it over the road to the milkman and have a cuppa with the family. Homework rarely got done on a Monday!
On the back of this, I also had a bit of a babysitting racket going on. I was the go-to girl in the village for that, which I was very happy about. Alarmingly for me, several of the children I babysat now have children of their own.
My first boyfriend, with whom I am still in touch, while not literally the boy next door, did live around the corner. If we wanted to 'go out' in the evening one of our parents had to take us to town and bring us back. Neither of us had much money so we didn't even do that very often. In the village, apart from the village hall, which had a bar, there was nowhere to go except each others house. We ended up agreeing to going back to being mates after a few months. A 'relationship' was pointless. I made sure my next boyfriend had a car!
In September 1992 I flew to Tel Aviv to begin my gap year. I didn't live there again until 2000 when I was working in Nottingham and applying for jobs in London. I go back three or four times a year to see my parents, but after a few days peace and quiet, this Londoner needs her metropolis!
See you on the other side
Tuesday, 4 October 2011
Greek Lemon Chicken
I'd always thought that this dish, which I found in an Australian Woman's Weekly cookery book, would be the one I'd post on my blog first. It's light, full of flavour and soupy enough to be comfort food. I can't find the book, but luckily I have committed the recipe to memory having made it many times. The drawback to committing this to the page is that I can't remember the quantities, generally cook by eye (or the slack 'andful as Mum would say), rather than weight and measure and almost always only for myself. The 'usual' Greek lemon chicken dishes that come up on searches are nothing like this one, and I've never seen anything similar in a restaurant, so I can't vouch for its authenticity. I can vouch for its being heavenly.
The recipe:
1 skinless, chicken breast cut into small pieces per person
2-3 carrots, cut into julienne strips
3-4 sticks of celery, cut into strips
1/2 onion, chopped fine
a few celery leaves
1 lemon
hot stock
cayenne pepper
whole garlic cloves (optional)
olive oil
1. Cook the chicken in olive oil in a heavy-based pan or casserole dish.
2. When it has coloured remove it with a slotted spoon and wrap in kitchn paper to absorb some of the oil.
3. Add the onion to the pan. Once softened, add the carrot and when that too is softening, add the celery. If the ingredients start to stick, add some of the stock.
4. Carefully pare the peel from the lemon into thin strips, then add to the stock to infuse.
5. Juice the lemon and add to the stock You might not need all the juice, depending on your taste. Add a few pinches of cayenne pepper.
6. Slowly add stock to the pan, then add the chicken.
7. Although it's not in the original recipe, I like to soften whole, peeled cloves of garlic in the stock.
8. Cover for a few minutes until all the ingredients are softening but not soggy. You may need to add more water.
9. Serve on top of rice or couscous. Sprinkle a few celery leaves on top of each plate or bowl to garnish.
I'm the slowest cook in the world so I won't even hazard a guess at how long this takes to make. After doing the prep, putting it together doesn't take long at all. And how long you leave it to simmer is down to taste. This dish is even better the next day when all the flavours have melded together.
I have made this without the chicken. I may try it with mushrooms (which go well with lemon) or lamb (which might be too heavy) for a change.
Kali oreksi!
The recipe:
1 skinless, chicken breast cut into small pieces per person
2-3 carrots, cut into julienne strips
3-4 sticks of celery, cut into strips
1/2 onion, chopped fine
a few celery leaves
1 lemon
hot stock
cayenne pepper
whole garlic cloves (optional)
olive oil
1. Cook the chicken in olive oil in a heavy-based pan or casserole dish.
2. When it has coloured remove it with a slotted spoon and wrap in kitchn paper to absorb some of the oil.
3. Add the onion to the pan. Once softened, add the carrot and when that too is softening, add the celery. If the ingredients start to stick, add some of the stock.
4. Carefully pare the peel from the lemon into thin strips, then add to the stock to infuse.
5. Juice the lemon and add to the stock You might not need all the juice, depending on your taste. Add a few pinches of cayenne pepper.
6. Slowly add stock to the pan, then add the chicken.
7. Although it's not in the original recipe, I like to soften whole, peeled cloves of garlic in the stock.
8. Cover for a few minutes until all the ingredients are softening but not soggy. You may need to add more water.
9. Serve on top of rice or couscous. Sprinkle a few celery leaves on top of each plate or bowl to garnish.
I'm the slowest cook in the world so I won't even hazard a guess at how long this takes to make. After doing the prep, putting it together doesn't take long at all. And how long you leave it to simmer is down to taste. This dish is even better the next day when all the flavours have melded together.
I have made this without the chicken. I may try it with mushrooms (which go well with lemon) or lamb (which might be too heavy) for a change.
Kali oreksi!
The Other Side
The Other Side
My first blog. Not, not keen on that font. Is that better? Back to Arial. Right, ok. You'll note I've resisted the opportunity to write in purple.
As I said, this is my first time blogging, so please be gentle. Of course I knew what blogging is, but have never really searched out or read any. They always seemed to me to be self-indulgent and egotistical things to write...and pointless. The last six months have been all about self-indulgence for me, so why not mark that with setting out some of my thoughts, particularly now it's time to get back to reality and find a job and a new place to live?
I plan to write about whatever comes to mind at the time. There will be a fair bit of what I've cooked on a particular evening, mainly because I'm getting back into cooking, and eating, after a fair while of not doing much of either, and certainly not healthily (more of which later). After a Bloody Mary or two I might get a bit garrulous and I am sure to come out with a lot of nonsense, just like I do on Twitter (where I'm @purplehelen, if you fancy a Follow). Much of what I write will be Londonocentric, as I live, and hope to stay living, here. I can't imagine living anywhere else in the world, and I have tried. There'll also be plenty of reminiscence of happier, more exciting times. I think that's natural when you reach crossroads in life. I'll try not to be too mawkish.
Comment is always welcome.
Before I sign off and decide whether to tell anyone I've written this, here are a few more things to share.
My name really is Helen and I'm very happy with that. I'm female, single and was born in '74 in Lincoln, I grew up mainly in Grantham and a small village just outside. I'm currently legally squatting in a house owned by my brother somewhere in Wimbledon. I've been unemployed since May this year (2011) and have just begun to look for work again following a much-needed period of calm and reflection. I suffer from depression and anxiety, sleep badly and have rubbish eyesight. Much of this information will be oft-repeated, I'm sure!
The writer of a written and audioblog I listen too has a great signing off line. When I think of my own, I'll add it.
See you on the other side.
.
My first blog. Not, not keen on that font. Is that better? Back to Arial. Right, ok. You'll note I've resisted the opportunity to write in purple.
As I said, this is my first time blogging, so please be gentle. Of course I knew what blogging is, but have never really searched out or read any. They always seemed to me to be self-indulgent and egotistical things to write...and pointless. The last six months have been all about self-indulgence for me, so why not mark that with setting out some of my thoughts, particularly now it's time to get back to reality and find a job and a new place to live?
I plan to write about whatever comes to mind at the time. There will be a fair bit of what I've cooked on a particular evening, mainly because I'm getting back into cooking, and eating, after a fair while of not doing much of either, and certainly not healthily (more of which later). After a Bloody Mary or two I might get a bit garrulous and I am sure to come out with a lot of nonsense, just like I do on Twitter (where I'm @purplehelen, if you fancy a Follow). Much of what I write will be Londonocentric, as I live, and hope to stay living, here. I can't imagine living anywhere else in the world, and I have tried. There'll also be plenty of reminiscence of happier, more exciting times. I think that's natural when you reach crossroads in life. I'll try not to be too mawkish.
Comment is always welcome.
Before I sign off and decide whether to tell anyone I've written this, here are a few more things to share.
My name really is Helen and I'm very happy with that. I'm female, single and was born in '74 in Lincoln, I grew up mainly in Grantham and a small village just outside. I'm currently legally squatting in a house owned by my brother somewhere in Wimbledon. I've been unemployed since May this year (2011) and have just begun to look for work again following a much-needed period of calm and reflection. I suffer from depression and anxiety, sleep badly and have rubbish eyesight. Much of this information will be oft-repeated, I'm sure!
The writer of a written and audioblog I listen too has a great signing off line. When I think of my own, I'll add it.
See you on the other side.
.
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