Kimchi Summer Rolls

With summer comes an almost weekly procession of barbecues. I was never a bringer of sausages and burgers to a party; last week these fat, squat summer rolls, a hybrid of the Vietnamese and Korean cuisines, made an appearance instead.

Given my propensity for rolling cigarettes, you'd think I'd make a neater bundle. The first always turns out a shocker; the rest, vaguely passable.

For the filling, bouncy prawns and ponytail kimchi were used. This particular type of kimchi is made from the ponytail radish - so called, I suspect, because of its burst of green leaf. Called 'chonggak kimchi', it's peppery. Sliced into batons, it added a good amount of spicy, tangy crunch. Both ponytail radish kimchi and summer roll wrappers should be available at your local Asian supermarket.

Kimchi Summer Rolls

Enough for 6 people

1 packet of summer roll wrapper (I use these)
1 small head of Little Gem lettuce, shredded
A handful of glass noodles, cooked
1 carrot, julienned
10 prawns, cooked and sliced lengthways in half
2 kimchi ponytail radishes, julienned
A small handful of coriander, chopped finely
Greens of 3 stalks of spring onion, shredded
A few stalks of mint, leaves picked
Half a lime

Mix the carrots, glass noodles, radishes, spring onions and lettuce in a bowl. Sprinkle with the juice of half a lime. Meanwhile, add some hand-hot water to a shallow dish. Lay out a clean tea towel. Place the roll wrapper in the water for 10 - 20 seconds, until it becomes soft, then lay on the tea towel. To make things pretty, add a mint leaf to the centre of the circle, then a prawn, sliced in half, below. Add a small bundle of veg etc. under that - roll like this. Or however you see fit.

Sauce:

4 tbsp fish sauce
1 tbsp water
1 tsp sugar
Juice of 1 lime
1 red chilli (hot)
1 clove of garlic

Mince the garlic and chop the chilli. Combine vigorously with the above to serve as a dipping sauce with the summer rolls.

Smacked Cucumber Salad

The first I'd heard of the hilariously named 'smacked cucumbers' was at Wuli Wuli; the cucumbers bathed in a pungently garlic sauce, that also had a fair amount of sweetness; at first, I found it too much, and then I was going back for more.

The name comes from the technique of smacking the cucumber with the flat of your cleaver (though I used a rolling pin) until the skin of the cucumber splits, leaving you with more surface area for the cucumber to absorb the dressing. Served with a fiery minced pork and noodle dish, this soothed the tongue and made us honk of garlic all night.

Smacked Cucumber Salad

Serves 2 as a side

1 large cucumber
3 cloves of garlic, minced
2 tsp palm sugar
2.5 tbsp rice vinegar
1.5 tsp chilli oil
2 tsp toasted sesame oil
1 tsp light soy sauce
2 tsp salt

Lay the cucumber on a chopping board and smack lightly with a cleaver or a rolling pin. Slice and add to a colander, sprinkling with salt. Leave for 30 mins, then rinse and pat dry with a kitchen towel. Mix together the vinegar, the garlic, sugar, chilli and sesame oils and add the cucumber to the mix, leaving for 10 mins before serving.

Pickled Herrings

Once I get an idea in my head, that's it; I can't think of much else. I recently had a conversation with someone about Ikea and the foodstuffs you can purchase there and one thought of those little chunks of herring pickled in those jars, be it in sweet mustard or just dill, got the craving going. I wasn't about to attempt a trip to the Croydon warehouse of hellishness, so I set about making them myself.

I started off with Hugh Fernley-Whittingstall's recipe and went from there. Two different fish counters were scoured before I found the herrings that I needed, and for some unknown reason I even had a little cry when I gutted a pregnant herring, full of roe. Emotional stuff. The herrings were messily filleted - my knife 'skills' need work - and they sat in brine for a couple of hours while the pickling solution was cooling.

Pickled Herring

6 herrings
60gr salt

Gut and fillet the herrings - don't worry too much about bones as they are very fine and will soften when pickled. Dissolve the salt in 500ml water and place the fillets in it to brine for a couple of hours.

Pickle solution:

6 juniper berries
1 tsp mustard seeds
4 bay leaves
12 black peppercorns
600ml cider vinegar
6 tbsp light brown sugar
1 small onion, sliced very thinly
A handful of dill

Place all of it except the dill in a small sauce pan and bring to the boil. Simmer for 5 minutes and then leave to cool. Roll the fillets up and pack into a sterilised 1 litre jar or container. Rip the dill roughly and add it in. Pour the solution over your fillets and seal, storing in the fridge.


Hugh's recipe recommends you leave them for at least 5 days, but you can leave them up to a month. I left mine for 6 days before I tucked in. You may notice in the photo that there are strips of orange rind in the pickle solution too; I didn't find this very successful, it was too... orangey. So I'd leave them out. Otherwise, they were delicious. Slightly sweet, properly pickled and firm of flesh. They went beautifully with this summer salad.

Pickled Herring & Potato Salad

Serves 2

5 or 6 large new potatoes
A large handful of broad beans
150gr asparagus spears
7 or 8 cherry tomatoes, halved
Half a red onion
2 pickled herring fillets

Dressing:

4 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1 tbsp red wine vinegar
1 clove of garlic, minced
1 tsp Dijon mustard
1 tsp sugar
2 tbsp dill, finely chopped
Salt & pepper to taste

Whisk the dressing ingredients together well. Meanwhile, set the potatoes on to cook in boiling salted water. I used frozen broad beans so I blanched them and then peeled them of their tough skins. Cook the asparagus until al dente. Toss the broad beans into the dressing and when the potatoes are cooked, halve them and add to the dressing while hot so that they soak it up.

To serve, scatter the asparagus on a plate and top with the broad bean and potato mixture. Halve the tomatoes and add on top with thinly sliced red onion. Finally, slice each herring fillet into 3 large chunks and place carefully on top.

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.

Street Food in Bangkok

We found it fairly difficult to find street food that weren't noodle soups in Bangkok. This was no bad thing; we often started our day with a bowl of thick, hor-fun noodles and a choice of duck or goose. Chillis steeped in fish sauce and a little deep fried garlic ensured we'd be carried through till lunchtime. But where were all these som tams, the laab salads, and curries galore? Perhaps we didn't look hard enough; after our binge in Penang our palates were a touch jaded.

But what a way to liven up the tastebuds with a searingly hot seafood salad (above). Raw prawns, squid and little clams were selected from a big tray of ice and dumped briefly in boiling water, before being fished out and then added to a plate. Tomatoes, strips of raw onion, lime, fish sauce and garlic are pounded in a pestle and mortar, then added to the seafood. It was a slow-building heat, leading to proper fire in the mouth.

Our first night saw us meeting up with @NicolaChilton for some street-side eats. It's always great to be taken around a new place by a local, even though you've never met before and Nicola took us for some cracking pork noodles. We then headed off to Soi 38 off Sukumvit, to sample Pad Thai cooked ferociously in a wok, packed full of vegetables and allegedly made with condensed milk. The vegetables had a great crunch and a lovely, smoky flavour to it, without the sticky sweetness you get in London Thai restaurants.

We finished off with sticky rice and mango. The mango was soft and deliciously sweet, while the intensely coconut flavoured rice was light, not like the dense, rich examples I was used to. Outstanding eats.

Another food highlight of our trip was stumbling upon a street food vendor near the Khao San Road. Not a word of English was spoken, and in the end we resorted to pointing at another table's food with a thumbs up. A pork laab, heavy on the shallots and topped with toasted crunchy rice was accompanied with a little plastic bag of sticky rice. Tom yum soup, also with pork, came as a big vat. Sour, spicy and savoury all at once, it was as good as I've ever had it.

Staggering around Chatuchak Market with a raging hangover was pretty painful. The biggest open air market in Asia, it was heaving and hot. I took refuge at a bright cafe, and all they served were Isaan-style salads and Thai sausages. Deep fried chicken tossed with shredded papaya, chilli and limes took the edge off the Sangsom head I was sporting.

It wasn't all good. Intrigued by the 'broccoli and mozzerella pie' and the dessert 'corn pie' in McDonald's, we ordered both to try out. Both were fucking disgusting. We weren't hugely surprised.

Gravadlax

One of the great successes over the Christmas period was the gravadlax my dad made. Cured in salt, sugar and dill for 5 days, it had a beautiful flavour and the four of us ate an entire side with our fingers, as Dad sliced wafer-thin strips for us. We never bother with the sweet mustard sauce, as we like it perfectly as it is. I managed to snaffle some to take home with me; some was eaten as is and the rest went into a warm salad.

A bunch of multicoloured beetroot was roasted so that its flavour intensified, its earthy nutty sweetness shining through. Toasted walnuts were given an extra oomph with the use of walnut oil in the dressing and curls of gravadlax draped on top. This all nestled in the peppery rocket; it makes a great starter, or a wintry main course salad. I know, I know, winter and salad shouldn't be uttered in the same sentence, but after a few days of meaty indulgences it hit the spot.


Gravadlax, Beetroot & Walnut Salad


Serves 2 as a starter, 1 as a main

200gr gravadlax
1 bunch (about 250gr) of beetroot - I used multicoloured, but you don't have to
2 tbsp olive oil
2 handfuls of rocket
1 handful of walnuts
3 tbsp walnut oil
1 tbsp white wine vinegar
Salt & pepper

Preheat the oven to 200 degrees C. Without breaking the skin, toss the beets in the olive oil and roast for 30 - 40 minutes. You should be able to insert a skewer into them easily. Leave to cool.

When cool, peel the beets and slice into quarters. Toast the walnuts lightly in a non-stick frying pan without any oil. To assemble, combine the walnut oil, vinegar and salt and pepper to taste. Toss the beets and the rocket in the dressing and add to a bowl. Scatter the walnuts on top, and lastly top with thinly sliced strips of gravadlax.

Smoked Mackerel, Beetroot & Horseradish Salad

Smoked mackerel, beetroot and horseradish are handsome trio. The spiciness of the horseradish plays along nicely with the earthy sweetness of the beetroot, livening and freshening the very rich fish. Key here is to use horseradish sauce with a high percentage of horseradish to get that kick.

I was accused by a commenter of my last smoked mackerel salad of being too unhealthy - in all honesty, I don't care. Balance, and all that. But if you want a lighter and healthier version, this is for you. The bacon and cream combination is still more satisfying though.

Smoked Mackerel, Beetroot & Horseradish Salad

Serves 1

1 beetroot
1 fillet of smoked mackerel
half a red onion
A handful of green beans
A handful of broad beans, podded, cooked and deskinned
1 red chilli
1 tbsp horseradish sauce / creamed horseradish
2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1 tbsp lemon juice
Salt & pepper

Cook the green beans lightly. Peel the beetroot and slice paper thin on a mandolin. Chop the red chilli roughly, and the onion into semi circles. Whisk together the horseradish, lemon and oil. To assemble, lay out the beetroot discs on a plate. In a bowl, toss together the flaked smoked mackerel, red onion, green beans and broad beans with the dressing. Season to taste - the fish is quite salty so watch how you go.

Thai-Style Steak & Pomegranate Salad

I've a bit of a thing for pomegranates, me. A few of the seeds in a glass of prosecco creates a pretty little drink. It's a necessity in one of my favourite side dishes, and I've now learnt it goes very well in a Thai-style beef salad. The sweet juicy jewels are perfect opposites of the salty crunch of the peanuts, all lifted by a minty, coriander-heavy sauce to dress the beef. Rump steak, usually the cheapest of the cuts is tenderised with the juice and flavoured with garlic and hints of chilli.

Thai Style Steak & Pomegranate Salad

Serves 2

2 rump steaks, with a good bit of fat on them
2 birds eye chillis
1 clove of garlic
2 tsp sugar
Half a pomegranate

Chop the garlic and the chillis roughly and add to the dish along with the sugar. Squeeze the pomegranate juice into the dish and place the steaks in it to marinate, turning over a couple of times. Leave overnight or at least for a few hours.

6 leaves of Little Gem
Half a red onion
1 small red pepper
A handful of coriander
Half a handful of mint
1/2 a lime
2 tbsp fish sauce
Pomegranate seeds
1 tbsp roasted peanuts, roughly chopped

Bring to the steaks up to room temperature. Brush off the garlic and chilli bits (they'll burn otherwise) and pat dry with kitchen towel. Oil the steaks and put them on a smoking hot griddle pan or barbeque. Cook until required doneness (rare, of course) and then place to one side to rest.

Chop the coriander and the mint finely and mix with the fish sauce and the juice of the lime. To assemble the salad, thinly slice the red onion and red pepper. Place the leaves on the plate, then the pepper and onion on top, and the steak on top of that. Scatter the peanuts and pomegranate seeds over it and finally, drizzle the herby dressing on top. Serve with rice, or on its own; you can also bulk it out with rice noodles.

Som Tam

Som tam is one spicy mother of a salad. Memorably, I once visited the Thai Food Festival in Greenwich Park after a heavy girls' night on the ciders (and Campari - bleurgh). I needed fresh clean reviving flavours. Staggering around in the blinding sun, I made my way over to a stall selling som tam; a lady with an enormous mortar and pestle was pounding away, creating this salad. She'd hold up various ingredients - 1 birds eye chilli? Two? Salted crab? - and with a nod or a shake she'd throw them in, and within minutes I had myself a tray of the stuff. Settling down, I took my first bite. My face was engulfed with fiery chilli flames, and I legged it over to the nearest stall, hopping on each foot until I got my hands on a watermelon juice to soothe the pain. Despite all this, it was addictive; salty, spicy, sour and sweet with a hint of fish.

Som tam is Thai, and it is translated literally to 'sour pounded'. Typical ingredients include shredded unripe green papaya, chilli, palm sugar, salted crabs or dried shrimp and fish sauce. I used a green mango for this instead, as I like the fragance it gives and it's easier to find than papaya. You should keep tasting and tasting as you add ingredients to get that perfect balance of sweet, salty and heat.

Som Tam

Serves 2

1 large green unripe mango
2 birds eye chillis (or to taste)
A small handul of dried shrimps
1/2 a lime
1/2 a clove of garlic
1 tsp palm sugar
5 cherry tomatoes
2 tbsp fish sauce

Peel your mango and grate it on the large grater, place it in a bowl. In a mortar & pestle, throw in the clove of garlic and pound to a paste. Add the dried shrimp and give them a pounding. Add the sugar, juice of the lime and the birds eye chillis (whole) and give it a quick bash. Add half the shredded mango and 1 tbsp of the fish sauce. Give it a good bashing, then mix it together with the rest of the shredded mango. At this point, taste it to see if it needs any more fish sauce or sugar. It should be face-crunchingly spicy. Smash the cherry tomatoes (shield yourself for squirtage) in the mortar, and then add to the mango. Leave to sit for half an hour, and then serve with some sticky rice.

Smoked Mackerel & Broad Bean Salad

Broad beans. Lovely green little beauties, but my god what a pain in the arse they are. I tend to buy them frozen now, as it's one less step in the process. It's nice and summery to sit in the sun, podding the beans and then shelling them of their tough skins, but sometimes there just aren't enough hours in the day.

Is a salad still a salad if it's loaded with bacon and dressed with cream? Of course it is.

This recipe is Nigel Slater's and it first caught my eye in The Observer's magazine; the picture drove me to drool and I knew I had to make it. I couldn't help but have a mess around, though; there are some salty elements in the salad in the smoked mackerel and lardons, so I added a squeeze of lemon and a splodge of horseradish to pep it up a bit. The inclusion of chicory for a bitter edge offset by creaminess was ideal, and a few tangled leaves and some cooked new potatoes that needed using up made this salad into a hearty yet summery dish.

I imagine that once the broad bean season is over and we edge into autumn, replacing the beans with beetroot would work nicely to create a vivid and earthy salad. Watch this space.

Smoked Mackerel & Broad Bean Salad

Serves 2, adapted from Nigel Slater

200gr smoked mackerel
200gr bacon lardons or pancetta
400gr frozen broad beans
6 spring onions
2 sprigs of tarragon
175ml double cream
Half a lemon
1 tsp horseradish
A few leftover potatoes (optional)
1 head of chicory
A handful of peppery leaves, such as rocket or watercress

Bring a pan of water to the boil and simmer the broad beans until tender, about 2 minutes. Drain and run under cold water. Peel the tough outer skins off them - you might want to get an extra pair of hands to help you out.

Fry the bacon lardons in a pan until browned and crispy. Drain off the oil and return to the heat. Chop the spring onions roughly and throw them in, frying for a minute or two. Add the cream and simmer for a minute until thickened slightly. Add the lemon juice, horseradish and throw in the broad beans. Remove from the heat, add the tarragon, chopped, and set to one side.

To assemble, take apart the chicory leaves and distribute evenly on two plates. Scatter slices of the potato over it and then the leaves. Add the bacon, then spoon the creamy broad beans over it, topping it with large chunks of the smoked mackerel. Eat immediately; it's far better warm than cold.

Grilled Pineapple Salsa

I've been big into my salads at barbeques recently. This red onion and pomegranate salad is now a regular feature, and after having made this salsa, I imagine it will be too. Gone are the days of sweaty supermarket coleslaw, mayonnaise-laden claggy potato salads and a bowl of wilted lettuce to slap in your burger bun as a token gesture. No no, it's all about fresh, colourful and vibrant sides to garnish your plate.

Fresh pineapple has always been a favourite of mine. Dressed with mint, it makes a refreshing summer snack and dipped in salt and chilli, a moreish treat. Nicaraguan pineapples, their flesh snowy white, were intensely sweet and blended with water to make a thick juice, were a perfect way to start the day. Barbequing the pineapple makes them sweeter, the heat caramelising the sugars inside the meat. Chopped roughly into Asian flavourings, it made a great accompaniment to grilled mackerel, the sweet and tart flavours contrasting with the rich, oily fish. This one I made was rather fiery which suited us fine, but do test your chillis before you lob them in. Of course, you don't have to lug the barbeque out; a griddle pan will also do the trick.

Grilled Pineapple Salsa

Makes a huge bowl that satisfied 10

2 pineapples
4 red chillis (or more, or less, to taste)
A large bunch of coriander
4 spring onions
1 lime
Fish sauce, to taste

Cut the sides off the pineapple and slice into large pieces through the width. Place the slices on the hot barbeque and grill for 6 - 7 minutes each side so that they are well scorched. When cooled, slice around the hard core and chop into chunks. Add to a large bowl with the chillies, chopped finely. Slice the spring onions on the diagonal and throw them in, along with the bunch of coriander, chopped roughly. Dress with the juice of the lime, and add glugs of fish sauce, tasting after each one, so that you get a nice sweet, salty and sour balance.

Pigging Out At The Drapers Arms

I firmly believe that pork is the king of all meats. It was with much excitement that I groggily made my way to The Drapers Arms, a lovely gastropub in the backstreets of leafy Islington. I had just completed a gruelling 30 hour journey from Nicaragua and I was in desperate need of some replenishing food.


The menu boasted five courses of porky goodness. First out was the smoked ham hock and pig's head terrine with toast and picallili. A coarse, jellied terrine was stuffed with flecks of herb, meaty jelly and chunks of pork. I long ago knew that I wanted to marry whoever's genius hand was behind the pickle-making here, and the picallili, crunchy and tart, was a delight.

Next up, a dandelion, black pudding and shallot salad was topped off with soft boiled eggs. The black pudding here was the softest I've had and it luxuriated upon the leaves nicely. Why aren't dandelion leaves more widely available? Robust, intense and bitter, I first tried it pulled out of the ground at Riverford Organic Farm. I love bitter foods and the silky egg yolk tempered the greenery nicely.

A course of simply sliced gammon was slightly on the dry side, though enlivened with yet more wonderful pickles; gherkins, beetroot and turnip.

The next course was one of my favourites - salt pork belly stew with white beans and watercress. Comforting, moreish and homely, the studs of pork were tender and slightly fatty, coating the mouth nicely.

Roast loin of pork came out next, accompanied by this crunchy and vivid beetroot, celeriac and apple salad; just the right hint of sweetness and earthiness that married together with the pork nicely, without having to resort to the usual apple sauce.

Crispy crunchy crackling and juice slices of meat were simplicity itself, but it showed that you don't have to do much to a good piece of meat.

The advertised rhubarb sorbet was garnished with angry blood red oranges that tartened up the dessert and yet managed to stay creamy. After those courses of rich pig meat this was a welcome and palate cleansing end to the meal.

I waddled off home, pleased as punch to have been fed so well after having spent two weeks existing on rice and beans. This was a one-off event, (follow them on Twitter to hear about upcoming ones) but it showed off some obvious skill in the kitchen and I'd gladly eat there again.

The Drapers Arms

44 Barnsbury St
Islington
London N1 1ER

Tel: 0207 619 0348



I dined here as a guest of Nick's, one of the co-owners. As you've seen, I like to make bets. He lost, and I won a complimentary seat.

Red Onion & Pomegranate Salad

This salad is absurdly simple, but very rewarding. Colourful with jewel-like pomegranate seeds, it is adapted from a Nigella recipe and makes an ideal accompaniment to curries. There's no danger of the dreaded onion breath as the lime juice strips away the harshness, leaving just sweet and sour. It works well stuffed into meat-filled pittas, scooped up with a dab of houmous on a flatbread or just roasted meats; I took it to a barbeque recently and it went down a storm.

Red Onion & Pomegranate Salad

Makes as pictured

2 red onions
2 limes
1 pomegranate
1/2 tsp cumin seeds
A handful of coriander
Salt & pepper

Halve the pomegranate and squeeze the juice into a bowl. Add the juice of the lime. Slice the red onions thinly in half crescents and add to the juice, leaving it for half an hour. Meanwhile, pic the seeds out of the pomegranate. Drain the onion, throw in the pomegranate seeds and the coriander, chopped up. In a non-stick pan, lightly toast the cumin seeds and bash about a bit in a mortar and pestle. Stir this through the onion, salt and pepper to taste and it's ready.

Charred Broccoli, Squid & Chorizo Salad

Not so long ago, I was introduced to the idea of roasting broccoli and cauliflower. I immediately fell in love with it; it intensified the flavour of the vegetables. No more sogginess, no more blandness. Don't get me wrong, I do love plainly steamed broccoli with just a bit of salt, but roasting opened doors of flavour intensity. There's no question of going back to steaming.

In these dreary days, I need something with a bit of colour and spice. Spring and all its bounty are just around the corner and this dish gave a teasing hint of it. There's all sorts of textures in this dish and the porky chorizo complements the squid well - that classic pork and seafood combination. It made a handsome dinner, and I imagine it would make a great salad to share at those outdoor barbeques - if summer ever decides to come back.

Charred Broccoli, Squid & Chorizo Salad

Serves 2

1 small head of broccoli

2" chorizo - a chorizo cooking sausage would be better

1 head of chicory

A handful of radishes

2 small squid tubes, with tentacles

200gr salad potatoes

2 spring onions

A handful of parsley

A handful of coriander

2 sprigs of mint

1 clove of garlic

1 red chilli

1/2 a lemon

1 tsp capers

1 tbsp flaked almonds

Salt & pepper

Extra virgin olive oil

Set a pan of water on to boil and add the potatoes. In a non stick pan lightly toast the almonds and set to one side.

Chop the chorizo into chunks. In a dry non-stick pan, add the chorizo and fry slowly, rendering the fat out, then add to a bowl, including the oil. Chop the herbs, garlic and chilli finely and chuck this in. Squeeze the juice of the lemon in, add the capers. Stir well, adding salt and pepper to taste. Loosen with a little olive oil, as this will make your dressing.

Separate the broccoli into its florets. Boil or steam for 2 minutes (I used my steamer insert on the pan of potatoes). Toss in a bowl with some oil and salt and pepper. Heat up a ridged grill pan and add the oiled florets, cooking until nice and charred. Similarly, halve the chicory down the length and griddle it, slicing it into 1" pieces when its done. Next, slice the squid, pat dry, toss with oil and chargrill for a mere minute.

Add the broccoli, chicory and squid to a bowl with the cooked potatoes, halved. Slice the radishes and throw them in. Add all of the dressing and toss well, making sure everything is well coated. When plated, scatter over the toasted almond flakes.

EDIT: Thanks to 'Salad' for pointing it out - yes, I did steam the broccoli and then chargrilled it, rather than roasting. I was using the grill pan anyway so I thought it would be pointless to crank the oven on for it - both methods have the same effect.

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.

Scallops with Bacon, Nectarines & Dill

Sounds like a weird combination, doesn't it?

I feel like I've lost a bit of cooking inspiration recently. It's been all stir-fried noodles, simple pastas - the kind of thing you can cook in 15 minutes. This has been because of it being cheap to make, quick to make, and requiring little to no imagination. Work has been busy, but life has also been busy. The sun has been out and I've been trying to make the most of it, even if it means I rarely see the inside of my flat and I'm sometimes exhausted.

I'm trying to change this though, and have resolved to cook at least one recipe from my cookbooks a week. I once spent 5 hours on a Sunday cooking pork belly and the result was so satisfying, but this I haven't done in a long time. Perhaps practically living alone has been the cause of this, but I'll just drag my mates round to eat more.

Anyway, enough about me. I spotted these lovely scallops in the supermarket on the shell for 99p each and couldn't resist them. I absolutely refuse to buy scallops without the coral on them, they're so packed full of flavour that I feel like I'm being cheated if they don't have them on. Scallops work well with both sweet and salty flavours (think black pudding and apple), so I took these elements and created a very experimental dish. Thankfully it worked really quite well; the juicy sweetness of the nectarines was balanced well with the salty bacon, and well - we know dill works with seafood pretty well. It was a perfect light lunch.


Scallops with Bacon, Nectarines & Dill

Serves 2

4 scallops, roe on in their shells
1 small ripe nectarine
2 shallots
30gr butter
2 slices of smoked streaky bacon
Juice of half a lime
3 sprigs of dill

In a non stick pan, add half the butter until foaming. Add the bacon and fry until coloured. Add the shallots and fry slowly until softened and golden. Then cut the nectarine into slices and fry for 4 to 5 minutes on a medium heat until all is slightly sticky. Take the fronds of dill off the stems and chop finely. Add to the pan with the lime juice, stir well and take it off the heat. Spoon into the shells evenly.

Wipe the frying pan clean, and add the rest of the butter with a drop of cooking oil. Heat until almost smoking but not burning, and add the scallops. Tilt the pan, spooning the butter mixture over them. Cook for about 2 mins depending on the thickness of the scallops, then turn over. They should be nicely browned. Cook for a further minute, then carefully season with pepper and lift onto the shell mixture. Serve with leaves dressed in olive oil and a squeeze of lemon.

Thai-Style Fish Cakes

I've just returned from 4 days in Ibiza. There was a lot of partying, a lot of sun-bathing, and rather too much eating of junk food - think Burger King, KFC and a fry-up slung in there too. I am a bad foodie.

So upon returning home, a little sad and more than a little skint, I spotted some basa fillets going cheap. It's not particularly environmentally friendly, given that they're from Vietnam, but they are sustainable. They're a white fish, and have a tendency to be a little tasteless so I packed them full of Thai aromatics in an attempt to liven them up a little.

The usual Thai fish cakes such as the ones you get at restaurants are made by processing white fish with red Thai curry paste and green beans, then deep fried. Since I don't have a food processor, I decided to do this the traditional way by using a pestle and mortar. The springiness of the cooked fishcakes comes from pounding the fish into a paste, so I did some limbering up and set about to work. The fish was chopped into small chunks and pounded around the mortar with a little cornflour. When I thought I got the right consistency, I set about to adding the flavourings, pounding and grinding as I went along.

The fishcakes could have perhaps benefitted from a few more minutes in the pestle and mortar as while they didn't have the same rubbery texture as onces made in a food processor, they were well flavoured and delicious. They were light and had a good kick to them. Coconut rice was a good accompaniment to them to make them into a whole and satisfying meal.

Thai-Style Fish Cakes with Cucumber & Peanut Dip

Serves 2

1 large basa fillet

1 stick of lemongrass, tender inner part only

1" piece of galangal

1 clove garlic

2 kaffir lime leaves

2 red chillis

3 sprigs of coriander, roots as well if possible

Juice of half a lime

1 tbsp fish sauce

1 tsp cornflour

For the sauce:

5 tbsp rice wine vinegar

3 tbsp water

80gr caster sugar

1/2 cucumber

25gr roasted peanuts, chopped roughly

1 red chilli

1 tsp fish sauce

Chop up the fish finely and pound in a pestle and mortar with the cornflour. Add the rest of the ingredients chopped finely and pound into a thick paste.

Meanwhile, deseed and dice the cucumber. In a saucepan, add the suagr and the vinegar and heat until the sugar has dissolved. Add the water and simmer for 5 minutes. Take off the heat, leave to cool, and add the cucumber, chilli and fish sauce.

Heat about an inch of oil in a non-stick frying pan. Shape the fish paste into patties with wet hands and carefully lay them in the oil. Fry for 3 - 4 minutes each side, depending on the thickness. Serve with coconut rice on a bed of Little Gem lettuce leaves, broad beans and sliced radishes with the dipping sauce on the side.