Aubergine & Tamarind Curry

Have I ever mentioned how much I love aubergines? It's borderline obsessive really. They're big meaty things with fantastic texture and they absorb flavours like a sponge, what's not to love? This curry is fairly similar to the aubergine, coconut and lime dhal in that they both contain aubergines, coconut - this time though, with a Thai twist and a sour tang that comes from tamarind.

A vivid orange curry was packed full of iron-rich cavolo nero and a head of pak choi that I had spare in the fridge; you can really use any green vegetable you like. Lots of dried red chillis were minced together with galangal, lemon grass and garlic to make a curry paste but it's the lime leaves thrown in while cooking that really gives it that fragrance the Thais do so well.

Aubergine & Tamarind Curry

Serves 2

For the spice paste:

A large handful of dried red chillis, rehydrated in boiling water
2 inches of galangal
6 cloves of garlic
1 stalk of lemongrass, inner soft part only
Half an onion
1 tbsp ground coriander
1 tsp shrimp paste
2 tbsp vegetable oil

Deseed the chillis and blitz all of the above with a little of the water from soaking the chillis.

1 medium aubergine
3 stalks of cavolo nero, or other dark leafy greens
4 lime leaves, torn roughly
1 can of coconut milk
A few seeds of tamarind - put these in a little boiling water and work the tamarind paste away from the seeds. Drain, reserving the tamarind paste. Alternatively, use 1.5 tbsp ready made tamarind paste
1 tbsp sugar, to taste
2 tbsp fish sauce (or to taste)
1 tbsp each of chopped basil and coriander

Slic the aubergines into fingers and fry in a little oil until coloured on both sides. Set aside. Heat some oil in a wok and add 2 tbsp of the curry paste. Stir fry until fragrant, then add the aubergines back in. Add the leafy greens and stir to coat. Add the coconut milk with the lime leaves and cook gently for 15 - 20 minutes.

Add the tamarind, the fish sauce tbsp by tbsp and the sugar; taste as you go. Add more of whatever you think it needs but keep tasting; it should be perfectly balanced.

Scatter with the chopped basil and coriander and serve with rice.

Aubergine, Coconut & Lime Dhal

One year when 7 of my friends and I took a jaunt down to Cornwall, I cooked up a vat of dhal (very Cornish, yes?) flavoured with gentle spices, coconut and lime to feed the masses and accompany a spicy dry lamb curry. Watching your friends devour something you've made is pretty damn satisfying and since then the recipe has been requested. I couldn't quite think of why it wasn't on the blog until I made it recently; it's quite ugly. Nevertheless, it's delicious and it feels like an enormous hug in a bowl, so here it is anyway. It's fairly adaptable; I've in the past thickened it with slimy okra, or loosened it with stock to make soup but my favourite form is as a dhal, to be scooped up with roti.

The coconut milk cooked with velvety aubergines can be quite rich, so a cooling red onion and cucumber salad freshens it all up a bit and adds a bit of punch.


Aubergine, Coconut & Lime Dhal

Serves 4 as a side or 2 as a main

200gr red lentils
1 can of coconut milk + 2 canfuls of water or stock
1 tsp salt
1 large onion
6 garlic cloves
2" of ginger
A large pinch of asafoetida - not essential, but it keeps the uhm, wind away
1 tsp turmeric
1.5 tbsp ground coriander
1 tsp (or to taste) chilli powder
1 heaped tsp cumin seeds
2 green cardamom pods
1 tsp garam masala
1 large aubergine
3 tbsp oil
Chopped coriander, to serve
1 lime

Chop the onion, garlic and ginger finely, or whack it in a food processor. Heat 1 tbsp of oil in a pan and add the cumin seeds. Cook until they become aromatic, then add in the onion, garlic and ginger mixture. Cook this on a low heat until a deep brown but not burnt; this takes about 20 mins.

Add the chilli powder, asafoetida salt, ground coriander, the cardamom pods (split) and turmeric - stir well to combine. Wash the lentils and add to the pan, coating with the spices and finally add the coconut milk and water / stock. Bring to the boil and simmer merrily for 40 mins, stirring occasionally.

Meanwhile, slice the aubergine into fingers. Heat the rest of the oil in a nonstick pan and fry until browned on both sides. Add the aubergine into the simmering dhal - they need a good 20 mins in there so don't dilly dally.

5 minutes before the dhal is ready, add the garam masala. To serve, squeeze the juice of the lime over the dhal and sprinkle with coriander, chopped.

For your salad:


Red Onion & Cucumber Salad

1 red onion
1 red chilli
1/2 a cucumber
1 clove of garlic
1 stalk of spring onion
1/2 tsp black onion seeds
1 lemon
1.5 tbsp vegetable oil

Slice the red onion finely into half moons and using the juice of half a lemon, soak for 1/2 an hour. Drain, rinse and return to a bowl. Peel and deseed the cucumber, then add to the onion. Add the chilli, chopped finely. Mince the garlic and the spring onion and toss though the onion and cucumber. Finally, add the onion seeds.

Heat up the oil until almost smoking, then carefully pour over the onions and cucumber mix - it should sizzle. The idea is this brings out the aromatics. Leave to cool, and serve with the dhal.

Golden Day, Soho

It was always going to be tricky visiting a Hunanese restaurant with someone who didn't eat spicy food; the flavours typical of the cuisine are said to be chillis, smoke and garlic. Said to be a dry heat, Hunanese food is less numbing than its Sichuan neighbour, and involves a lot more smoked and cured meats. We thumbed through the enormous menu at Golden Day, and my eyes grew wide as all the pictures of the dishes depicted chillis. Lots and lots of chillis. I secretly cursed our intolerant companion. Kelp salad started us off, slivers of slimy seaweed doused with oil and chilli though served a bit too cold.

Chairman Mao braised pork was probably the only dish I could find that didn't look like a fire-bomb. Wibbly wobbly chunks of pork belly braised in a soy sauce were tender and flavoursome, chunks of spring onion freshening the dish. We could have done with the rice we ordered at this point to soak up all the sauces, but unfortunately the five of us were given one dish at a time, painfully slowly.

Dry pot tender chicken was a dish I remembered from Jay Rayner's review; chunks of chicken doused in chillis slowly bubbling under a little flame, sauce intensifying more and more as time goes on. This was rejected by half our group as the chicken was bone-in and quite fiddly - the fools! It was delicious.

Hunan-style aubergines were silky but slightly lacking in flavour. It, like most vegetable dishes, would have benefitted with the addition of some pork.

Strangest dish of the night goes to the sweetcorn cakes. I thought they would be much like the ones I make, but they appeared to be made with glutinous rice flour; they were sticky and intensely gooey. They lacked a certain something, but were quite addictive when dipped into the braised pork belly juices.

Smoked pork with home-pickled radishes was excellent. The slices of pork tasted like bacon, and the pickled radish was at once crunchy and sour. It was a salty dish which needed rice, but one unlike I've had before in Chinese cuisine.

A tofu dish with pork and cloud ear mushrooms was equally good, the spongy tofu making a great texture contrast with the slimy mushroom. There were far more dishes I wanted to try, such as steamed fish head with home-made chilli sauce and plain noodles, and steamed potato balls with chilli sauce which needs revisiting with more adventurous diners. We were disappointed with the service though; it took us ages to get anyone's attention, and when we asked for tap water we were told firmly 'still or sparkling only', which when charged at £2.40 a glass seems cruel and greedy, especially with the level of chillis applied. Still, until I can find another decent Hunanese restaurant, I'll go back.

Golden Day

118 - 120 Shaftesbury Avenue
London W1D 5EP

Tel: 020 7494 2381

Roka, Fitzrovia

Roka has been top of my I'd-like-to-go-there-but-will-never-afford-it list. I mean, god - the menu on the website doesn't even list prices. You know what they say about those kind of places; if you have to ask how much, it means you can't afford it. Which is why I leapt at the kind offer of lunch there.

Packed to the rafters one lunchtime, there were a lot of business meetings going on. We were sat at the bar in near the robata grills, chefs busy working away. The menu is long; split into sashimi, sushi, soups, rice dishes, seafood and meat grills, I stared dumbfoundedly for a few moments.

Edamame glistened with salt flakes and were lovely served warm. A red miso soup had a real punch to it, a depth that its white sister lacks.

Yellowtail, salmon and tuna sashimi was served on an enormous bowl of chipped ice. Cut thickly, the fish was beautifully fresh, though I winced at its price tag in the late teens.

Tuna, pickled mooli and shiso leaf sushi was gorgeous. Ever so lightly battered and deep fried so that the seaweed was crispy, I wondered how on earth they got this done without cooking its innards. The mooli had a slight tang to it, lifted by the minced shiso. I was glad our waitress recommended this.

Two scallops (at a whopping £13 or so) were served with wasabi mayonnaise. Big fat specimens, the char of the grill deepened the flavour of the flesh and kept them transluscent and juicy inside.

I'm not one to pass up on aubergine, you know that. These were soft, silken and sweet. A perfect example. I hogged it.

I found it difficult to taste the smokiness in the smoked duck breast, but the kumquat and persimmon sauce worked well in its tart sweetness with the richness of the duck fat. Sliced ever so thinly, the meat was tender, the skin crisp.

Sesame and honey chicken wings were the biggest bargain at £4.90. Dipped into the salt mixed with lime juice, these had me licking my fingers in the most unseemly manner.

Rock shrimp tempura'd was served with a chilli mayonnaise. While addictive (they reminded me of KFC's popcorn chicken in that sense) they were fairly one dimensional in flavour, though expertly and greaselessly fried.

Given it was a mid-week lunch, I had to rudely run off before we had even asked for the bill, leaving my companion sat on his own. Honestly, why can't we have two hour lunch breaks?

When I receive my unexpected windfall of dosh, I'll be back for the rest of the menu.

Roka

37 Charlotte Street
London W1T 1RR

Tel: 020 7580 0220

Aubergine & Tomato Galette

I always thought a galette was a pancake made out of buckwheat flour, but like many terms in food, it also means something else. Wikipedia says it's a general French term for any kind of flat, round or freeform cakes. This one is very freeform indeed.

I first saw the galette on this blog and knew I had to try it immediately, and of course with my favourite vegetable with the aubergine. The crust, made with sour cream was flaky, crumbly and light; the cream is definitely an inspired addition. Soft melting vegetables, fresh aniseedy flavours of basil and with a nice cheesy hit, a slice of this with a dressed green bean salad made a filling but summery dinner.

Aubergine and Tomato Galette

Feeds 4

1 large or two medium aubergines
6 large ripe tomatoes
A handful of basil leaves
1 tub of ricotta
1 ball of mozzerella
50gr Parmesan
2 cloves of garlic

200gr plain flour
115gr butter, very cold cut into a dice
4 tbsp water
4 tbsp sour cream
A large pinch of salt
A squeeze of lemon juice
1 egg yolk

Slice the aubergine to about a finger's thickness and fry in hot oil on both sides until browned. Set to one side. Slice the tomatoes to a similar thickness, drizzle with oil. Mince the two cloves of garlic and scatter on top, seasoning with salt and pepper. Place under a medium grill for about 15 minutes.

Drain the mozerella ball and place in a sieve with a plate on top, and a tin of beans on the plate to squeeze some water out. Add the flour and salt to a big bowl. Add the butter and rub into the flour, working quickly. In a separate bowl, mix the water, sour cream and lemon juice until it's all incorporated and add it to the flour. Mix with your hands until it forms a dough and then stop immediately. Wrap in clingfilm and put in the fridge for an hour.

Preheat the oven to 200 degrees C. Grease a large sheet of greaseproof paper and place on a baking tray. Roll the pastry out into a rectangle to a half inch thickness. Leaving about a 3 inch gap, spread the ricotta over the pastry. Place a row of tomato slices (these should be thick, messy and gloopy), then a row of aubergine slices, slightly overlapping until you get to the other side. Scatter the basil leaves on top, reserving about 3 or 4. Slice the mozerella ball roughly and place the slices evenly on top, then repeat with the tomato and aubergine. Grate the Parmesan on top.

Glaze the pastry with the egg yolk and place in the oven for 30 to 40 minutes, until it's all bubbly and lovely and the pastry is browned. Leave to stand for 10 minutes, then slice the remaining basil leaves into slivers and scatter on top before serving.

Miso Aubergine with Soba Noodles

If I'm not careful, this blog may start looking like the Aubergine Fan Club, though to be honest, that would be no bad thing. This is a recipe I've been making and tweaking for a while; often, when I order it at restaurants I find they can be a little too sweet but a recent dish at The Ledbury was stunning. Sweet, salty, juicy and its soft flesh yielding, I wanted it almost instantaneously after the meal finished.

A couple of days later I snatched some aubergines up and made it at home. Served with cold soba noodles drizzled with dashi stock and peppered with Shichimi powder, this was a clean, light and refreshing meal. The steaming hot aubergine collapsed nicely, its caramelised topping flavouring it throughout. Nutty, springy soba noodles were an excellent texture contrast - I usually eat this dish with some rice, but this was a far lighter and more summery option.


Miso Aubergines with Soba Noodles

Serves 2

1 large aubergine
2 tbsp white miso
1 tbsp light soy sauce
1" ginger, grated
2 spring onions
150gr soba noodles
6 chestnut or fresh shiitake mushrooms
4 leaves of spring greens
Shichimi powder (you can buy this in most Asian supermarkets)
2" x 3" piece of konbu seaweed
A small handful of bonito flakes (these two can be replaced with a sachet of dashi powdered stock)

In a saucepan, add 200ml water and the piece of seaweed. Bring up to a simmer slowly and simmer on the most gentle bubble. Alternatively, just make up 200ml of dashi stock from powder.

Meanwhile, slice the aubergine in half lengthways and then take a small sliver from the outside curved end of the aubergine so that it sits flat. Score the flesh into a criss cross. In a large non stick frying pan, heat some oil and fry the aubergines skin side down for 7 minutes, then turn over and fry the flesh side for another 5 minutes.

In a small bowl, mix together the ginger, miso and the soy sauce. Slather the scored side of the aubergine with the sauce and place under a medium grill.

Slice the greens and bring a large pan of water to the boil. Add the soba noodles first, then the spring greens. Simmer until tender, about 4 minutes, and plunge into cold water. Keep the noodles and greens under cold running water until all the starch has been washed out and they do not stick together.

Turn the seaweed water off and throw in the bonito flakes. Put the lid on and leave for 5 minutes, before straining. Add the mushrooms, sliced thinly, into the stock.

By now (about 15 minutes) the aubergine should be cooked through, the topping caramelised and slightly bubbling. If not, leave to cook a little longer. To serve, place half the noodles on one plate, half on the other. Slice the aubergine into 4 big pieces and place on the plate. Slice the spring onions thinly and scatter over the noodles with some Shichimi powder, and either drizzle the dashi stock over the noodles or serve in a small bowl to dip the noodles in. This also works well piled into a deep bowl, dashi poured over it; the leftover stock is deeply flavoured and very moreish.

Fish Fragrant Aubergines

Fish fragrant aubergines is the first Sichuan dish I cooked, and I was instantly addicted. I used Sunflower's recipe and the balance of spiciness, sweet and sour was spot on. It doesn't actually contain fish - the 'fish fragrant' refers to the aforementioned tastes with the mix of garlic, ginger and spring onions.

The more I made it, the more I changed aspects of the dish, adding Sichuan peppercorns to get that almost-metallic numbness. I also upped the vinegar aspect and discovered these amazing pickled Sichuan chillis through Josh, which perks the dish up and adds a fiery punch in the gob. I bought them at See Woo on Lisle Street.

This time, shock horror, I vegetarianised the dish, substituting minced pork with deep fried tofu puffs and shiitake mushrooms. Don't feel like you should follow my madness though; it is, undeniably, better with pork.

Traditionally and in restaurants, the aubergines are deep fried. If you've ever deep fried aubergine, you'll know that it soaks up the oil like a very thirsty sponge. I usually shallow fry the slices before they go in the sauce instead, as it eases my conscience and produces an overall less greasy dish. You will be rewarded with soft, silky aubergines in a fire pit of spongy tofu puffs. A most excellent, sweat-inducing dish.


Fish Fragrant Aubergines

Serves 4

1 large aubergine
8 dried mushrooms shiitake
15 deep fried tofu puffs (or use 80gr minced pork)
4 cloves of garlic, minced
2 tsp minced ginger
2 tbsp chilli bean paste (I use this one, available at Chinese supermarkets)
1 tsp light soy sauce (or 1 tsp of the pickled chillis above - not both as it's too salty)
1 tsp dark soy sauce
2 tbsp Chinese cooking wine
3 tbsp Chinese black vinegar
2 tsp sugar
1 tsp cornflour with water to mix
1 tsp sesame oil
2 spring onions, sliced diagonally
1 tsp Sichuan peppercorns

Boil 200ml of water and leave the mushrooms to soak. Slice the aubergine up into thick fingers. Heat some oil in a non stick pan and fry on both sides until browned. Set aside. In a dry pan, toast the Sichuan peppercorns and grind to a fine powder.

In a jug, add the cooking wine, soy sauces, vinegar and sugar and give it a good stir. Remove the mushrooms and slice in half, discarding the stalk. Sieve and reserve the mushroom water. Slice the tofu puffs in half.

Heat 2 tbsp oil in a wok and add the ginger and garlic. Stir fry until fragrant. Add the chilli bean paste and stir to amalgamate. Add the aubergine slices and tofu puffs stirring so that it all gets a good coating, and then throw the mushrooms in. Add the mixture in the jug and half the mushroom water. Simmer on a medium heat for 10 minutes until the aubergines are soft and silky. Finally, mix the cornflour with a little water and add that to the wok, stirring until thickened. Take off the heat, drizzle with the sesame oil and garnish with the spring onions. Add a little pile of those preserved Sichuan chillis to each dish and serve with rice.

It's best to get everything chopped, minced and laid out, as with this kind of cooking everything happens fairly quickly.

Chinese Red Braised Aubergines

After a recent meal at Silk Road, Camberwell, I resolved to try cooking the aubergine dish I loved so much at home. Unfortunately, googling 'homestyle aubergines' threw up nothing. Frustratingly, it seems like a name the restaurant gave to the dish themselves. I improvised, adopting some of the methods they used, such as peeling the aubergine, instead.

Handily enough, I had enough leftover red soy sauce from these noodles, so this was to be the basis of the dish. Peeled and then fried and braised, the aubergines took on a pleasantly silky texture just as they had done at the restaurant. I replaced the peppers in the original dish with some broccoli and celery I had hanging around, which I think I prefered. The broccoli florets soaked up the sauce nicely and had a good texture constrast with their grassy crunch.

Chinese Red Braised Aubergine

Serves 2 as a side

2 small aubergines
3 cloves of garlic
1" of ginger
4 tbsp red soy sauce (recipe is on Josh's blog)
2 stalks of spring onion
1/2 a head of broccoli
2 stalks of celery
1/2 tbsp cornflour, slaked
200ml water or stock

Peel the aubergine and slice it into rounds. Finely mince the garlic and ginger, destring the celery stalks and slice diagonally. Separate the broccoli into florets. Slice the spring onion diagonally and set to one side.

Heat 2 tbsp oil in a wok. Add the aubergine rounds and fry until browned on each side. Remove from the pan, add a dribble more oil and heat until almost smoking. Add the celery and stir-fry for 2 or 3 minutes and add the ginger and garlic. Fry until fragrant, get the aubergine back in there. Stir fry for a few minutes and add the red soy sauce. Stir until it's all coated, slosh in the water and simmer for 10 - 15 minutes, adding more water if it's looking dry. Add the broccoli and simmer for a further 10 minutes or until tender.

Finally, add the cornflour and simmer until thickened and glossy. Take off the heat, garnish with the spring onion and serve with rice.

Hot & Sour Tofu with Aubergine

After I saw Helen's post on crispy tofu, I immediately got a craving for it. I've always loved tofu in all it's forms, but nothing quite beats fresh firm tofu, dipped in cornflour and fried in hot fat creates a crunchy, grease-free coating. It may seem strange to then go and braise it, potentially ruining that crisp exterior, but it actually soaks up the juices, flavouring the tofu throughout while its subtle flavour shines through. You still get the crispy bits as they don't languish long in the sauce.

I'm biased as I love them so, but I think the perfect texture to complement the tofu was soft, melting aubergines. Fried first and then braised, these silky beauties also absorb all the flavour in the dish. I was only gutted that I'd only made one portion. It's important to balance the sweet, hot, sour and salty so taste, taste and taste until you get what you think is right.


Hot & Sour Tofu with Aubergines

Serves 2

Half a block of fresh tofu
1 medium aubergine
3 cloves of garlic, minced
2" ginger, chopped finely
2 red birds eye chillis, deseeded and chopped finely
1 large handful of Thai holy basil leaves chopped finely
A few sprigs of coriander, roughly chopped
Cornflour
Fish sauce to taste (or soy if you're vegan or vegetarian)
Palm sugar to taste
1 lime
1 spring onion, sliced diagonally
50 mls of water
Vegetable oil

Slice the tofu into thick rectangles and leave to drain on kitchen paper. On a plate, shake out some cornflour to coat the tofu with. Heat about 1cm of oil in a non-stick frying pan. Coat the tofu in the cornflour and place immediately in the hot oil and fry carefully until golden brown. Leave to drain on a fresh piece of kitchen towel. Meanwhile, slice the aubergine to the thickness of a pound coin and fry in a little oil until, again, browned on both sides.

In a wok, heat some oil and add the ginger, garlic and chillis to the oil. Open every single window in a 10 mile radius unless you want napalm in your lungs. Add the aubergines and half of the holy basil, as well as the water. Bring to the simmer and add the tofu. Season with fish sauce and palm sugar (I started off with 1 tbsp of each) and the rest of the holy basil and cook until the sauce has been absorbed and has thickened slightly. Take off the heat, taste and add more fish sauce or sugar as appropriate, as well as a hefty squeeze of lime. Garnish with the chopped spring onion and coriander and serve with rice.

If your palm sugar comes in a big block as mine does, I've found the best way to use it is to grate it on the coarse bit.

A Festive Salad

Yes that's right - more aubergine! I can't help it, as soon as I see a recipe for them it has to be made. This one, again from Ottolenghi was so pretty in the book and it actually translated to plate, which doesn't happen with all cookbooks.

The dish was a great example of contrasting textures. Soft, silky aubergines were contrasted with the sweet tang of the bursting pomegranate seeds. The saffron yoghurt, lighter in colour than in the book, had a garlicky kick and moistened the components. Fresh basil leaves with their grassy, aniseed flavour were well judged. I loved the yoghurt so much it was difficult not to eat it out of the bowl with a spoon. I imagine it would go really well with our annual Boxing Day bubble and squeak breakfast.

Roasted Aubergine with Saffron Yoghurt

Adapted from Ottolenghi - serves 4

3 medium aubergines, sliced into wedges
2 tbsp pine nuts, toasted
1 pomegranate, seeds removed
15 basil leaves
A small pinch of saffron strands
3 tbsp hot water
180gr Greek yoghurt
1 garlic clove
2 tbsp lemon juice
2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil

Add the 3 tbsp hot water to the saffron strands in a bowl and leave for 10 minutes. Mix together the lemon juice, olive oil, the garlic clove crushed and the yoghurt. Taste and add salt to taste.

Preheat the oven to 220 degrees C. Brush the aubergines liberally with oil, salt and pepper them and roast for 20 - 30 minutes, until browned and cooked through. Let them cool to room temperature.

Assemble the salad by arranging the slices on a serving plate. Drizzle over the yoghurt and scatter over the pine nuts, pomegranate seeds, and basil leaves.

Aubergine-Wrapped Ricotta Gnocchi

I'm sure I've mentioned before that I have a really big thing for aubergines. It's borderline obsessive; I can't walk past market stalls without buying some, and I've even been growing them (without much success...) myself. Trouble is, I don't have all that many recipes for them. I love them liberally coated in oil simply griddled, or in a couple of Chinese dishes. I also love moussaka or in a pasta sauce, but anything past this and I'm stumped.

I finally picked up my Ottolenghi cookbook. Many people have raved about it but when I first flicked through it, despite the pretty pictures, there was an overwhelming number of recipes for squashes and sweet potato - the arch nemeses of my food world. Still, this weekend I resolved I would try and get over this squash-a-phobia, but I was waylaid by an aubergine. The roots of evil would have to wait.

I was a bit dubious about the recipe in question. How would gnocchi, made with ricotta and Parmesan, not just melt into the water when it was simmering? But I trusted the cookbook and ploughed ahead with it. As I rolled the gnocchi out into fat sausage-like shapes, I then wondered how on earth they were going to fill two of us up. Little did I know, they were pretty rich and were just about sufficient.

Soaking aubergines in oil and grilling them makes them silky and soft. The gnocchi are dressed in sage butter making it a rich, decadent dish. The housemate could only finish two, but I scoffed four happily. One complaint I had about the cookbook was that many of the recipes don't say what to serve with that particular dish; I find it hard to believe that this dish is meant to be served as is, when it's a main course. Broccoli roasted with garlic, chilli and lemon suited it fine, but I imagine there are better alternatives.


Aubergine-Wrapped Ricotta Gnocchi

Adapted from Ottolenghi - Serves 2 as a main

1 small aubergine
Olive oil
30gr pine nuts, lightly toasted
250gr ricotta cheese
2 egg yolks
35gr plain flour
50gr Parmesan, grated
1 tbsp chopped flatleaf parsley
1 tbsp chopped basil
1/4 tsp grated nutmeg
1/2 tsp salt
Black pepper
70gr butter
20 sage leaves
1/2 tbsp lemon juice

In a large bowl, mix together 40gr Parmesan, the flour, egg yolks, salt and ricotta. Add the parsley and basil, mix thoroughly and refrigerate for at least 4 hours, overnight if possible.

Trim off the top and the bottom of the aubergine and slice to the thickness of a pound coin lengthways. Brush liberally with olive oil and griddle until soft. Scoop a large tablespoon of the gnocchi mixture and using wet hands, shape into a barrel shape and set aside. I managed to make 6 out of this mixture. Bring a large pot of salted water to the boil and simmer them, 3 at a time. They are done when they float to the surface. Fish them out - it's quite a delicate business - and leave todry on kitchen towel. Once the dumplings are cool, wrap the aubergine around them carefully. Preheat the oven to 180 degrees celcius. Place the aubergine-wrapped gnocchi in an oiled dish and bake for 15 minutes. Meanwhile, melt the butter in a pan and simmer until light brown in colour. Turn off the heat, add the sage leaves and the lemon juice.

To serve, place the gnocchi on the plate and drizzle the butter over it.

Meze Mangal, New Cross / St John's / Brockley - Eating Locally

Aside from a five month stint in Collier's Wood down the arse-end of the Northern line, for all of my life in London I've lived in the south east. Starting off in Brockley, I then moved to Charlton, then Lee which was actually just a road, and now New Cross. I prefer to stay south east, I find it has more character than places I've been to in North London. I feel safer here than in East London, and I (nor my bank account) won't entertain the idea of living in West London.

South East London has its good points; lots of green, open spaces such as Greenwich Park and Blackheath means that frolicking in the park is easily done on the rare weekends that we have some sun. Travel is also cheaper on the overground, and I don't have to get the dreaded tube every day. However, there was a lack of decent restaurants in both Lee and Charlton. So when I had a little dig around about restaurants in and around New Cross, I was surprised when I had three mentioned to me with a few more in the surrounding area.

Meze Mangal is situated on a run-down and crappy part of Lewisham Way, near New Cross station. The frontage doesn't reveal what lies within; peeling paint and random car tyres strewn around give it a slightly menacing air. A friend and I visited on a Monday night and the waiter looked doubtful about whether we could have a table; I was surprised to hear that they're fully booked most nights but eventually we were seat by the long charcoal grill pit. The restaurant's card with contact details was pressed into my hand: "next time you won't be so lucky - you must book!"

We decided on sharing three starters. I'm a sucker for aubergines, and this aubergine with spicy tomato sauce was suitably delicious. Smoky, oily and with a decent kick, we mopped this up greedily. Calamari was well cooked and grease-free with a decent hazelnut sauce on the side to liven things up. Houmous was rough in texture, garlicky and moreish. A recent meal at Yalla Yalla, a Lebanese place in Soho yielded a silky smooth houmous; both were equally as good.

All this was scooped up with excellent warm bread. I find it difficult to hold back during starters, and I was almost full by the time we'd finished.

For the mains, I chose a pide with cheese and Turkish sausage. This is a boat-shaped pizza and whilst it was good, it was exactly as you see and I was a bit breaded out. My friend chose a lamb shish kebab (top picture) which is what I'll be having next time. The meat took on the flavour of the charcoal grill and was tender and pink inside. Salad dressed with sumac and some red cabbage provided the vital vegetable element to lighten the dish up.

Service was friendly and you could tell there were many regulars, as it seemed the waiters knew a lot of the diners. it was bargainous too; for £20 we got ourselves a good spread and a beer. At last - a decent local restaurant!

Avoid going to the Rosemary Branch, on Lewisham Way for a digestif; it may be £2 a pint on Monday - Wednesdays, but you have to endure Sean Paul blasting out of the stereo, the stange smell of not-so-legal cigarette fillers lingering, and 10 year old kids being drunkenly sick in bins outside. I love South East London.

Meze Mangal

245 Lewisham Way

London SE4 1XF

Tel: 020 8694 8099

*I've edited the title to include St John's and Brockley. There seems to be some discussion over which area the restaurant is in, and rather than get into a turf war, hopefully this will resolve it. To be honest, as long as I can walk there in half an hour and the food is good, that's all that matters.

Vietnamese Spicy Pork & Aubergine

Aubergines are my favourite vegetable, although Wikipedia tells me they're actually classed as a berry. I claimed I didn't like them when I was a child, as in Hong Kong (where I grew up) they were often called eggplants and I wasn't overly fond of eggs. It made sense to me at the time, but clearly I missed out and have been making up for it ever since.

Texturally they are really pleasing; I find twice cooking them is the best way to get them meltingly tender rather than spongy and squeaky. It's also unnecessary to salt them to get rid of their bitterness, as modern technology means it's been bred out of them. I have found that salting them means that they soak up less oil, if you're trying to be health conscious.

Pork and aubergine is a great combination. Already, Fish Fragrant Aubergines is one of my favourite dishes and so I'm always keen to try this combination with different flavourings. Originally this recipe instructed to prick the aubergine and roast it for 45 minutes until collapsed, then to peel it and scrape the flesh out to spread the mince over. Either way is as good, but this is a little quicker.

Vietnamese Spicy Pork & Aubergine

Serves 2

1 large aubergine, chopped into large chunks
250gr minced pork
3 cloves of garlic, minced
3 red birds eye chillis, deseeded and chopped
2 stalks of spring onion, sliced finely
3 tbsp fish sauce
1 tbsp sugar
1 lime
Small bunch of coriander and mint, finely chopped.

In a non stick pan, fry the aubergine chunks in oil until it's browned on both sides. Remove and set to one side. Heat some oil up in a wok or a non-stick pan and fry the garlic and chilli until fragrant. Add the pork mince and fry until browned, then add the aubergine chunks back in. Stir fry on a high heat and add the spring onions. Add the fish sauce and the sugar. When the aubergines are completely cooked, take off the heat and add the herbs and the lime juice. Serve with rice.

This a great recipe; the fish sauce imparts a really great savoury depth to it, whilst the mint and the lime juice really makes it taste very fresh. The chilli isn't too overpowering; I often add more when just cooking for myself as I like it rather fiery.

Moro Cooking - Aubergine & Red Pepper Salad

I have a terrible habit of buying cookery books, pouring over them hungrily, and then leaving on the shelf, never to be cooked from. I decided that this should change, so I tackled a recipe from the Moro cookbook.

I've never been to the restaurant, nor have I tried Moorish food but this recipe was very straight-forward. It also used one of my favourite vegetables: the aubergine. Given the current rising food costs and my seemingly-perpetual poorness, I've been shopping at Lewisham market recently. It really is a god-send; I picked up half a kilo of baby plum tomatoes for 58p, 3 aubergines for £1.20 and three peppers for £1. This was almost half the price of nearby Sainsburys.

So anyway, the recipe.

Aubergine & Red Pepper Salad

Serves 4 as a side

3 aubergines
3 red peppers (I used 2 red and one yellow)
1 garlic clove, crushed
A squeeze of lemon
2 tbsp olive oil
200gr low fat yoghurt
Caramelised butter, about 30gr
A few sprigs of fresh coriander
Salt and pepper

Prick the aubergines and peppers and roast in the oven until the aubergines have collapsed. The aubergines take about 45 mins and the peppers about 25 mins, on gas mark 7. Remove from the oven and allow to cool slightly. Peel the skin from the peppers and the aubergines. Chop the aubergine flesh roughly and spread out on a plate. Add the olive oil, lemon juice, garlic, salt and pepper and toss. Deskin the peppers and chop into slices. Drape this over the aubergine. Spoon the yoghurt on one side of the dish.

To make caramelised butter, heat some unsalted butter in a pan. Continue to heat it, swirling it around the pan occasionally, until the sediment in the pan becomes brown, but doesn't burn. Pour this over the dish. Serve with flatbreads.

This was a really delicious introduction to Moorish food. I think that amount of yoghurt was a touch too much, so I might reduce it by half next time. I think a bit of minced lamb with parsley, added to this dish, would make a great meal.