(Gone Painting)

I have not posted any foodie-musings in almost a month.
Fear not, I'm still eating (barely), I just have not had time to
savour any flavours lately!

I have thrown myself into preparations for my first Open Studio Event
at my Art Space in Redlees Gallery & Studios.
The Event is next week! My first contribution to an exhibition! I am
very very nervous. I haven't been this nervous since the day I had to
take my driving test for the 5th time.
(Did I just announce that to the world?!) I passed by the way.

Back to the art: for those of you in London, please use this link to
find the event on the trusty FB:
http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=111130565843#wall_posts

Or else, check out www.redlees.org
At the moment the site does not reflect how COOL the place actually
is, but we're working on it!

PLEASE come along and support us!
Any questions? Just ask!

x

Purity, Pleasure & The Divine

There are times when I get great satisfaction from my dietary virtuousness.

Those days when I sip on cleansing japanese miso soups with delicate pieces of tofu floating on the top. The Zen path.

Days when I breakfast on a feast of fresh fruits, and lunch on fat free/homemade/organic Vegan soups. 

I have conquered my desire to eat meat (actually, less of the 'conquering', more of the 'went off it cos it made me feel ill', so easy really)

which means that overall, I can polish off that smug halo hanging above my head and walk around with a cocky 'check me out' swagger. 

Then there are other times, like tonight, when I want nothing more than to roll around in chocolate, and get caught in some over-the-top  food related metaphor, like 'that window scene with the priest' in the film 'Chocolat.' (There are also some scenes in my head with Johnny Depp that I would like to add a couple of bars of 'Chocolat' to, preferably melted...). 'To be fair, I don't deny myself enough to EVER indulge in such extremes of excess. When I get the desire for temptation, I give in almost instantly. If I need a chocolate fudge brownie, I hunt one down. Instant gratification. I don't get in the car unless I have a 'comfort stash' of chocolate to hand. Traffic lights can be stressful.  I also like to balance out my virtuousness with a respectful amount of indulgence. For example, my yoga class on monday night was just brilliant. I had to celebrate achieving the variation on The Plough, by scoffing 5 Jaffa Cakes into my mouth as fast as I could, when I got home. Nirvana, right there. 

My friend once described me as a see-saw personality, that swung from being all 'Carrie-like', confident, experimental, clever-ish and up-for-a-laugh one minute (and big haired), to the 'Charlotte-esque' puritan-easily-shocked-and-horrified goody-two-shoes the next. I'm a bit of both, for sure. Scarily, more Charlotte than Carrie the older I get. (who'd have thought?!?) Forgive the SATC comparisons, but we all understand the analogy, so it works, which is why I say that when it comes to food, I swing from being Charlotte one minute, all wheat & dairy free, to Samantha the next...all calories and full fat cheese, plus the the full bodied red wine  (and the rest).

When it comes to food, as with so many other things, there is little room for half measures.

And what a way to live!

One school of thought says we are here one earth to experience All That Is, so that we may know Who We Really Are, and that is 'That Which Is Closest To The Divine.' The Divinity in Us. Well, if experiencing the divine means indulging in the pleasures of the gift of food, then may I reach 'heaven'/Salvation/Nirvana/Samadhi/union with divine consciousness /  with a big plate of chocolate brownies and a bottle of Shiraz. My yogic education tells me this can never be so, but ooooooh, if only! That would be a path to follow.

April, My Month.

So, it was my birthday on the weekend just past.

Birthdays are funny things. I get so excited about making a fuss of other people's when their turn comes around, but I get quite stressed and anxious about my own. I'm actually quite uncomfortable being the centre of attention (don't laugh! It's true!). After poking and prompting my friends to mark their birthdays, I would not be able to escape some sort of 'event'. I banded a  few ideas around in my head, and chose to go with Mandi's suggestion. Have a bash at hers!

Perfect. It's practically my second home anyway! So I cooked up a little buffet, some pumpkin pie, a roasted veggie pie, some baked salmon, made a huge salad, got some snacks in and drinks, baked myself my birthday cake (cheesecake) and we had ourselves a party. 

The sun shone for me, all day.

Wonderful people surrounded me, we ate, drank, laughed and danced.

I got some amazing presents, and felt very loved.

So thankyou sooooo much to everyone who came. And to those who couldn't come but sent me their love anyway. I was really touched. This made me realise more than anything the lengths people will go, to send you their best wishes on your birthday when they really care. It shows you , and reminds you who, and what really matters in your life. It was wow.

I don't really feel the need to go into detail about the day and evening, I just wanted to make this post a 'thankyou' post for the awesome people in my life. Family and Friends both made me cry! Yes, I'm a soppy cow at heart.

Must be getting old.

xxx

The Samosa Party, Dubai

So, when I confirmed to Dina that I would be flying out to see her and enjoy her hospitality in her home, she casually asked me if I could make Samosas. Apparently, her punjabi flatmate, Aneesh had been craving fresh, homemade samosas and wondered if I, as a fellow punjabi, was able to indulge him. Now, it would have been incorrect for me to say that I couldn't make them, as essentially, the actual recipe is very simple. However, the humble, much loved samosa is not really an 'instant' snack, easy to throw together, in the way a pakora is, for example. No. The samosa is usually made in bulk, in stages, and made as part of a group activity, usually for a special event and usually well in advance of whatever event that may be. Well, at least that's how it is in my family! So, although I have made them many times in the company of my mum, sisters and aunts, I have never actually made them all on my own.

But I wasnt going to admit to that! So, can I make Samosas?! 'Of course I can', I said. 'Can we have a Samosa Party when you get here then Raj?' Err....ok then..... (nervous cough)...

SO, shortly after confirming that I would have to batch cook samosa's for the party, I was in the kitchen with my mum, cooking up a 'dry run'. She whipped out the samosa rotis she had prepared earlier from the freezer (as you do), defrosted them, instructed me on how to properly prepare the filling, and we had knocked up a batch of fresh, delicious samosas before you could say 'get me to the world's biggest mall'.

I must admit, I was more than a little nervous on the morning of the party. The enormity of the task dawned on me. What if i got the seasoning all wrong? (I never use enough salt, apparently...) What if they were too greasy? What if they tasted awful? What if they tasted great, but I didn't make enough? That wouldn't be much of a samosa party. What if I couldn't work out how to make triangles from the strip pastry we had found in the supermarket?! I had only ever used the semi-circle home-made rotis, not the shop bought ones...Yup, I was worried. It seemed like there were too many variables that could screw up!

Of course, we got asked the obvious question many times: 'Why don't you just buy them?'

That's the thing with Dubai, you don't really need to do anything for yourself, cos you can 'just buy' anything and have it delivered to your door.  Sure, there's nothing wrong with that, but no one knows how to make anything anymore, and I think without the labour of love that comes with making it yourself, you miss something really special. Anyway, it's precisely because you CAN get anything you want pretty much instantly in Dubai made me want to NOT buy. The act of 'making' here is being lost to the act of 'purchasing' in a way that feels more exaggerated than in other places. The making of these babies from scratch started to feel a bit like a political statement in my mind! Not quite the Great Salt March, but I'm feeling the Ghandian principles!

Drama aside, to be fair, I wasn't really alone in this task. I had my trusty helpers, Dina and Aneesh to hand! Together, we made it happen.

First, the labour intensive task of cutting all those potatoes…

Followed by cooking up the filling. I went for a classic potato and peas combo, flavoured with mustard seeds, salt, chilli powder and coriander powder. Once the mixture is cooled, I add a squeeze of fresh lemon juice over the top.

I worked out the best way to shape the pastry strips into the right type of cone shape, and before long Aneesh had that technique locked down pretty quick:

Dina perfected the Punjabi Filling and Sticking Maneuver:

At one point, we feared we wouldnt have enough samosas to make a party. This minor panic let to Aneesh's genius idea of topping up the remaining filling with cheese:

Once fried, these would be the stars of the batch!

Not long after the frying had commenced, the guests started to arrive. Unsurprisingly, the Germans got there first. Or should I say, on time! 

Here are the boys on the balcony:

The samosas seemed to get the loving I had hoped they would:

Overall, the whole thing seemed to turn out pretty damn well!

It was great to come back to Dubai, see some great faces from the past, and stay with dear friends from the present. Not to mention, there is something very satisfying about all that deep fat frying! Especially when you get to serve it up to friends. Thanks for having me people. Can't wait to see you again. xx

Winter – Summer – Spring

I'm a seasonal baby. I love the changes of the seasons.

Especially when the change is marking the end of Winter.

Today, in London, I picked my first daffodil and drank in the beauty of the first blossoms on the trees and I literally felt like singing and skipping all the way down the road, it made me so damned happy.

Spring takes my breath away!

The thing about being capable of feeling such intense joy at such simple pleasures, is that it leaves you capable of feeling pretty damn miserable too. I had taken about as much of Winter as I could, I had delved deep for the last dredges of optimism inside me, and found that there was actually none left. Gone, empty, exhausted. So, I booked me a ticket to the sun, and I hid myself away for 2 weeks. Winter turned to Summer in a matter of 6 hours. And now I'm back home to glorious Spring. An inverted way of experiencing the seasons, but beautiful.

And it feels great!

I went to stay with some very dear friends, in a city that always inspires a contradiction of emotions in me. My heart opens when I am there because of the people I know there. Also because the place has been good to me. But it also appalls, horrifies, amuses and leaves me 'flabergasted'. I don't get to use that word much, but it feels right here. Dubai is NUTS, totally bonkers.

The weirdest city on the planet, where testosterone seems to be oozing out of each corner like ectoplasm in Ghostbusters. Testosterone fuelled buildings and cars, all bigger, shinier, glossier, and more Freudian than the last.  New developments appear almost the instant after the idea is conceived. You feel as though you are walking through an actual CGI modelled town. My first reaction upon walking through the recently built 'JBR' development, was that it felt as though I was in 'Far Far Away' out of Shrek 2. I swear the place is modelled by Disney-Pixar. 

The women are all tottering handbags and perfectly polished nails (I am always amazed at how much can be done to a nail to 'perfect' it...I mean, really?) Yes, I indulged in a pedicure. My feet looked amazing. Again I felt a bit appalled at the ridiculousness of the whole process, all those 'tools', and 'you want round or square nails, French or regular, Maam-Sir?'. Not to mention the very western awkwardness one feels knowing that these women are probably getting next to nothing to be squatting at your feet scrubbing your dead skin off your heels and graciously beautifying your feet. It all felt a bit icky. The village girl in me was deeply embarrased, the 'princess' in me said 'because I'm worth it'. And yet you can't help but be impressed with the skill of the task, feel some glee that you can indulge in such frivolousness and you can't help admiring the results! The results were gooood. That feeling of liking something, but not liking that you like it...if you know what I mean, for me, sums up Dubai. The whole city is like one big exploitative but glossy pedicure. Maam-Sir.

There is no reason to mention the tallest building, largest mall, silly palm/world shaped islands.....boring boring boring....none of that ever really interested me. It's just all too damn silly. Again, too much testosterone. And then there are things that just deeply upset me. Like hearing about the captured Dolphins in the 'biggest aquarium in the world'. Broke my heart into a million pieces, Dolphins are sacred. I chose not to look at those things. 

What I love about Dubai is that something about the place makes me relax my shoulders, breathe deeply the warm air, inhale the sea, indulge in a few guilty excesses. In 2005 I lived and worked in Dubai for 4 months, and I met some wonderful people and had an incredible time. 

I also got to eat some wonderful food. Oh, the food in Dubai!!! The city is fantastic for the quality of its eateries. Amazing indian restaurants, fantastic japanese (they have Zuma...we didnt manage to make it there, but I hear its incredible), top class italian (although don't bother ordering tiramisu in a muslim country. You will get a lovely cake, but nothing resembling the alcohol soaked desert that shares the same name). Most of all I love the fresh juices and my favourite drink in DXB, the AWESOME Mint Lemonade. Intensely sour lemon juice, fresh mint and sugar syrup combined is a brilliant thirst quencher. Basically a virgin mojito…HEAVEN. I couldn't get enough of it. (I feel the same way about Nimboo Pani in the Punjab. I think that drink actually saved my life out there once. Well, that may be a slight dramatisation, but I do remember being revived from almost-fainting after taking a few medicinal gulps!) Food in Dubai is incredible, I even love the supermarkets there. The range of fresh produce is fantastic and the spice racks of fresh spices is delight to shop from. I love it.

Finally, I musn't forget the other incredible foodie experience of Dubai: the Friday Brunch. This, my friends, is the epitome of gluttony. (Again, I liked it, bit didnt like that I liked it! I may need therapy...)

Friday brunch is a jaw dropping feast of food, which starts around midday and continues for hours and hours...you begin with sipping pink bubbly booze, and you proceed to the myriad of stalls to begin the feasts: choose from Mexican, Chinese, Japanese, Lebanese, Indian, British (the chip stall), you name it, its there. As much as you like, for as long as you like, for one fixed price. There are starters from each cuisine, all pretty damn excellent, then mains. I had BBQ prawns, oysters, sushi, fresh salads, some fajitas, there were roast dinners, lebanese mezze...I could go on and on. The desserts had me silent for a long time, lost in a heady chocolate sugar high, all the while the ever attentive waiters silently and discreetly topped up your glass with the bubbly good stuff. It dosen't take long to drift into a daze of gluttonous blurry eyed dreaminess. I felt like a fat cat colonial middle aged man bursting out of a my metaphorical dinner jacket, cigar and whiskey in hand, being waited on by the 'natives'. Didnt like it. But I liked it. See what this place is doing to me?!?! I think I do need therapy!

Dubai is like that. You enter with fresh eyes and you shift uncomfortably in your seat, hesitant to allow yourself to accept its oddness and seductive excess. But at some point you give in. Because deep down, it caters to our shadow side, the side we all want to indulge in but not acknowledge. On the other hand, the city is one of the most optimistic places I have ever been. Anything and everything is possible. Everything can and will get done. Dubai lives in the moment, has fun, feasts, feels the heat of the sun, throws caution to the wind and accepts itself for what it is. And it is one big experiment. It has no fear. I can't help but like it for that.

I loved it there. I loved that the city challenged me, and always will. 

I continue to meet wonderful people there, and eat wonderful food, and feel an affection for the place, despite myself. I described it as a big warm blanket that wrapped itself around me and gave me a 'welcome back' hug. I was in need of such a hug.

Besides, as long as the angels that took care of me are in that city, I wont be staying away for long. Thankyou, you beautiful ladies, for taking care of me. Love you dearly. 

Save me a spot next to you on the beach.

xxxx

The Motorbike & Sidecar = Proven vehicle of choice for the greatest friendships!

Following on from the last post, here's what I forgot to add!!!

Just for good measure, and for the sake of completing the set, here's what I repeated before:

And of course, the Two Fat Foodies: (R.I.P Clarissa btw…)

This is fun. Any more great duo's I haven't thought of? (With cool transportation…)

This entry may not be strictly about food, but here's something tasty:

Oooh yes please! I'm salivating…

x

The Legend that is Manders...is 31!!!!

Another Birthday, another celebration, and yes…you guessed it…more CAKES!!!!

My dear friend Mandi, my Soul Sister, my travel companion in the epic adventure that was the South America trip of '08, my 'brother from another mother', and most probably, my 'wife from another life', as I like to call her...celebrated her 31st 'Bird-day' last week!

Cue another excuse for me to get baking. However, THIS time, birthday girl CHOSE what cake she wanted. 'Oooh, Marge, I fancy a cheescake! Can you make me a cheescake?!?!'

Now, when your Wife From Another Life asks you for Cheesecake on her birthday, you don't say "Nah, never done one of them before...the answer's No!" A Cheesecake is no easy cake to make! There are stages to consider, the base needs time to chill before baking, the baking isn't a straight forward 'shove in the oven' jobby, you need to bake it in a 'Bain Marie' (water bath) and fiddle around with cling film and foil to make the 'Spring Form Tin' watertight.... there are ALL SORTS of processes involved! That's why I hadn't bothered to make one before!

BUT, never one to be defeated easily, and never one to let down a dear friend on a birthday, I scurried off to search through my recipe books for a suitable cake to make. Weirdly, none of the recipe books on my shelf had a decent recipe for a BAKED cheesecake. There were ones for the type that you just chill in the fridge, but I don't regard them as proper cheescakes. I want the stodgy American style cakes that stick to the roof of your mouth. Dense, creamy and BAKED. The natural and obvious place to find that sort of unashamedly high–calorie glory would be, of course, in a Nigella cookbook.

Now, I actually don't own one, believe it or not, so I spent an evening in Waterstones Piccadilly (the BESTEST bookshop EVER) and scoured through a couple of her books and found the recipe for Key Lime and Double Chocolate Cheescake. (Didnt take long to find....there were about 5 different cheesecake recipes in this book. Unsurprising!) So instead of buying it, I pulled out my notebook and scribbled down the recipe. (Well, credit crunch and all that...! Bookstores are virtually libraries now anyway...) 

As feared, it was a bit scarier making this than ordinary cakes are. I rushed out to buy a spring form cake tin. Was quite excited about that! I patiently made the tin watertight...layered the cling film and foil a few times over the base, preparing it for baking in a water bath. How scary! Putting your carefully prepared cake into a tin, which then has to sit in a tray half filled with water! This is to allow the steam created to cook the cake gently and evenly, which is great, but I had all sorts of visions of a soggy base, and sludgy middle, and of being laughed out of the party! This was stressful! As a 'back up plan', I made a regular choc chip and banana cake too, just in case the first cake was a total failure!

In the end, all went well. The cake tasted goooo-ood. Tangy, citrus, creamy cheese filling and rich crumbly chocolate base. YUM. I will post the recipe of it up soon.

And here it is, (drumroll....) Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome, the KEY LIME CHEESECAKE!!! (well, they were regular limes, but what the hell...)

And not forgetting the all important 'back-up' cake: 

Just as well there were two cakes, all the candles wouldn't fit on one! haha...

Of course, how can I not show the star of the show...the birthday girl herself!

 

This time last year we were celebrating your birthday in La Paz, Bolivia, soon after the amazing trip around Uyuni and the Great Salt Lakes. 

Now here we are, back in London Town, taking a few more bites out of life! 

You and me babe, are like Amitabh & Dharmendra in Sholay, journeying through life on a bike and sidecar combo: 

:

Or, maybe a truer variation on the theme would be this:

The Two Fat ladies in bike and side car combo!

If I keep feeding you the way I am, we wont be far off! haha...

Maybe we should get a bike and sidecar?!?

Love you loads, wonderful lady!

"This time next year, Rodney..."

xxx

A very grown-up dinner party and the revelation that is Ottolenghi

I was a bit cheeky recently. Eram's birthday was close but I had not heard anything from her about celebrating the day! Well, I wasn't having that. We may not be in our twenties anymore, but that's no reason to sit back... we may not be 'larging it' like we used to, but we are still on fire... let's mark the day with some 'in yer face' attitude, and have fun!  (This, coming from the girl who is staying in this friday night to write this blog cos its 'too cold out' to party...oops! No cheeky comments Mandi, I know they are coming!) So anyway, I harassed her with text messages, and poked her on StalkBook, wrote on her 'wall', demanding we gather some friends and have a good time, goddammit. In return I promised to bake cakes. Rock n Roll.

And so it was. We skipped and hopped through the London rain with our sad little faces all fed up with winter, and wandered into Erams flat to find it filled with culinary sunshine!

It was a feast of gorgeous veggie fare:

Here are just a few shots of some of the dishes. They tasted Gorgeous. Now I needed to know where the inspiration and recipes for these dishes came from. So it wasn't long after we finished discussing the latest developments in World Current Affairs, and our favourite literature releases, and after we had our heated debate of, errr....'Buffy' versus 'Smallville'... (of course, I had nothing to contribute at this point, I desperately wanted to shout about 'Heroes' instead...) that we finally got round to discovering the lovely story behind the food that we all enjoyed. 

It all began when Eram passed a wonderful deli on Upper Street in Islington, called Ottolenghi. Now, this is where the gushing and 'ooh-ing' and 'aaah-ing' began, I have never visited this deli, but at this point I think there were 3 different people clamouring to extoll its virtues at the same time...it was a the sort of excitable babbling women usually reserve for the praise of chocolate. Needless to say, I am gonna get myself to that deli. 

Ottolenghi is run by Yotam Ottolenghi and Sam Tamimi. Both born in Jerusalem in the same year, one was raised on the Jewish west side, the other on the Arab east side. They did not meet till they moved to London, and it was here that their love of food built bridges where governments could not. A very apt story, especially with recent events in mind.

 All the dishes Eram prepared were from their new cookbook. 

They describe their food as 'familiar and straightforward, yet highly innovative'.

The food is simple, but beautifully considered. The dishes, like the website, and their own blog, are unpretentious and welcoming. (Although this does not apply to the signage on the deli fascia...bit cold for my liking...) However, the food sings, and the passion behind it is clearly visible (at least I think it is on the website). I don't know much about the food of the 'Mediterranean basin' as they describe it, but I was thrilled to see that most of the dishes are vegetarian. The recipes are realistic enough to be able to recreate at home, and look and taste impressive. 

Despite having only been exposed to them through the food of the evening, and from the passionate descriptions from the 'fans', I couldn't help but feel that the excitement and genuine warmth that their food inspired was more than anything that the likes of  Nigella could ever hope for. After a little more online research, I discovered there were more than a few people who adored them. I also realised that I'm one of the last people to hear about them! 

I was also pleased to discover that Ottolenghi writes a regular column for TheGuardian, called The New Vegetarian. Take a look. Dishes featured here are globally inspired, an interesting mix. 

So thankyou Eram! Thankyou for laying out such a great feast, and thankyou for introducing me to great new cookbook and deli store! You were on fire! 

And most of all thankyou for a 'right ol proper grown up night, pet. T'was great'.

The evening was a roaring success. Who said we don't know how to have fun, hey?

xxx

Flighty Food

Click on the title of this post, and you will find something to truly make you chuckle.

It is a letter of complaint that was written to Richard Branson regarding the terrible quality of the food that was served on a flight from Mumbai to London.

It's been doing the rounds on the emails at work, and had the whole studio giggling throughout the morning, and reciting lines buy the afternoon.

A very well written moan it is too...

I hope he got an upgrade for his next flight.

x

Aforementioned Slater recipe tested

1. Onions, once cut into quarter chunks lengthways, are roasted with butter, salt, pepper. 

The result is charred, sticky and sweet.

.

Once cooled enough to handle, slice into thinner slithers. 

Cook with the white wine, allowing the wine to bubble intensely away till alcohol has burned away and you are left with a thick, syrupy concentrate. Takes a little while.

Once reduced, add stock and any other flavours. I added a pinch of chilli powder, black pepper, paprika, allspice (cinnamon/clove/nutmeg), a drizzle of honey, bay leaf or two and some sliced garlic. (Had no plans to kiss anyone). Also teeny amounts of dried green herbs, such a Rosemary & Thyme, for the woody warmth. Allow to simmer and bubble away till all the flavours have gotten to know each other and become friends. 

I also had some teeny baby onions kicking about (as you do) so I peeled them and sliced them in half and allowed them to soften in the bubbling broth. Adds another layer of texture and onion-ness. Worked beautifully. Result:

Thanks Mr Slater. I won't be intimidated by making this soup again. The white wine reduction was the revelation for me, took the flavour of the soup to another level. Nigel would probably be horrified at the amount of additional spices I added, but in the small quantities that I used, it all worked together really well, giving it a bit of depth and background warmth. Besides, I'm indian, I can't resist reaching for the spices and having some fun with them. It worked.

I decided against adding the melted cheese bread on top that day. I wanted the gentle soothing broth alone, it wasn't a cheesy sort of day. Its such a simple soup that you can get very creative with.

Enjoy it, its a winter treat.

No tears Soup

This is one of my favourite cookbooks that I own. Nigel Slater's Kitchen Diaries.

It's an honest, intimate peephole into his life, through his kitchen year.

It's a simple concept: he writes down the recipe for what he eats every day, one recipe per day.

He writes in such a loving, evocative way, and the photography is shot very beautifully & unpretentiously. All shot in natural light, no harsh shadows, printed on matt paper, the colours are slightly muted and the food looks gorgeous. As you read, you can almost feel and smell the way the weather is changing throughout the year, and how the light is changing and the recipes reflect that. In the UK, whilst we are busy moaning about the terrible weather especially at this time of year, its easy to forget that we are such seasonal creatures. Secretly we love it.  (I think...) I am leafing through this book to remind me of what is to come in the spring, to lift my spirits a bit, and get some comfort in the cosy moments that winter can bring. Right now I'm looking for a culinary hug.

I needed soothing.

The recipe for today, January 11th, spoke to me. In fact, it didn't just speak to me, it practically stroked my hair, it was so soothing. 'Onion Soup Without Tears'. 

French Onion soup is one of the top soups in my list, but I rarely make it because of the amount of labour involved, the whole hassle of slicing a mountain of onions for so little soup isn't my idea of fun cooking. Not least because I'm usually bawling my eyes out all the way through it...my eyes are too sensitive to onions. Ol Nige has a great solution: bake the onions with butter till they caramelise instead! Genius...and better still, his recipe dosen't demand that you use beef stock, which is a refreshing change. Its rare to see that in a recipe for this soup. Not that you should ever be a slave to any recipe, and I never use meat stock anymore anyway, but I was pleasantly surprised that he went for a veggie stock, because that means that the soup should not lack any depth of flavour despite not being meaty.

Nigels' recipe is surprisingly simple:

4 medium onions, butter (40g he says...but when you are raised in an indian household, you dont measure anything...unless baking...so I wont), a glass of white wine and vegetable stock.

French bread and gruyere/emmental cheese for toasting on top at the end.

I would be tempted to add a kick of black pepper, maybe a little nutmeg and a tiny bit of allspice for some background warmth. (and tabasco at the end...of course...)

To put it all together:

Peel onions, slice in half along the middle, roast in a hot oven with butter/salt/pepper till brown and toasted dark. When cooked, cut into smaller segments, bubble in the wine till the wine is reduced to almost nothing (alcohol is all cooked off leaving concentrated flavour only) then pour in the stock. Let it all simmer for about 20 mins (I would add any extra personal spices at this point). Serve with toasted bread and cheese on top.

Enjoyed reading about it so much, tomorrow I might actually cook it.

x

Looking back...

...over the last blog post, I realise it is pretty dull. Not the food...the food was great! I meant the way I wrote it...reading it back, it wasn't the voice of excitement.

So apologies for it not being that engaging...inspiration is a little low in my words right now.

But, the meal didn't lack any feeling, care or attention. In fact, despite myself, the whole experience of preparing that meal was gentle, very engaging and inspired in its own way.

I was totally immersed in what I was doing, I barely even thought about it.

I love that about cooking. Undisturbed, in that space, my mind can relax, ideas and thoughts flow so freely and there is no anxiety. I realised there are so few times I feel that complete ease in what I am doing.

Even when I draw and paint, there is an element of worry, nervous tension, that holds me back. My demons in my mind whisper to me, 'it wont work, its not good enough...'. Not when I cook... there is no worry, no fear. I just know it will be fine, because I feel calm and and completely involved in every moment. A Zen experience. I think the key is, that even if its not fine, even if it falls apart and is tasteless, it actually dosen't matter. And I am not worried. Because the people that love me (and have to eat it!) will forgive me my errors and just see the attention and care that has gone into it. They would know that my intentions were in the right place.

That's the lesson. Try not to worry...god knows that's not easy. Don't worry about the mistakes. You will inevitably make them, I seem to all the time. The ones who care will get over it, laugh with you, encourage you on and you will only get better. In anything in life, I guess. 

Now I just have to try to apply that philosophy of fearlessness and calm to everything else in my life. Good luck to me!

'Do something with those mushrooms' she said...

So I did.

It's been a long day. Not a great day, so the prospect of spending some calming time in the kitchen was a welcome relief. A slow, leisurely meander through the fridge revealed some ready-to-roll puff pastry, eggs, a small carton of soya cream and a stray leek. All clues pointed to a Quiche.

To blind bake or not to blind bake? Always blind bake shortcrust pastry before making a quiche. All that means is that you need to half bake the pastry before putting the filling in. Otherwise you risk undercooked pastry, not nice. On the telly they tell you to fill it with 'baking beans' or rice, this weighs down the pastry so it dosen't puff up. But the nature of Puff pastry is to puff, so I just let it...it still works. Here's what to do:

Roll out the pastry and line the base of your dish:

Bake it for about 10 mins on a moderate oven, and it will come out looking like this:

Prick the puffy bit to flatten the middle, to make space for the filling, and it will look like this:

Then prepare the filling.

My filling was simple. Heat butter and olive oil, saute the mushrooms and any other veg, I added broccoli. Flavour with herbs, I used dried thyme, mint, and rosemary, also some garlic. Add any herbs, fresh or dried, whatever feels good. When it cooks down, the mushrooms release a lot of water. You don't want this in the quiche or else the lovely crispy puff pastry will go soggy. So remove the veg with a slotted spoon to lift away from the liquid and fill the pastry.

Whisk together a mixture of eggs (i used 3), single cream (i used a soya based cream), and any seasonings you like. Salt, Pepper, more dried herbs, chilli powder and a touch of Sweet Smoked Paprika complements the mushrooms beautifully. Add a little of the mushroom liquid too. You don't have to use cream, milk is fine, but using cream gives a nicer result. Pour this all over the veg mixture. Here it is pre-bake:

Bake for about 30-40 mins, depending on your oven.  

While its cooking, return to the pan with the excess liquid that cooked out of the mushrooms. Bring back to a simmer, add some butter and flour and whisk it all together. It will turn into a lovely thick mushroom sauce. Add water to adjust the thickness, and adjust seasoning to taste. Keep this intense sauce to drizzle over the top.

Here's tonights cooked quiche:

The pastry is now completely cooked to perfection, the filling is set, holding the veg together.

It's lovely to leave it just as it is, and serve the mushroom sauce on top.

However, I had a bit of rocket knocking about, so I dressed the quiche with the leaves and drizzled the sauce over the top. The fresh rocket leaves add a nice texture, and some will be wilted by the warm sauce on top. Makes the whole dish more layered and interesting. The peppery rocket with the intense mushroom flavour is lovely.

I served it up with a side of minty mash, and more sauce over the top.

Went down a treat. My mum loved it, Dad went back for seconds, and bro was silenced through it. So I know it tasted good.

I, however, have totally lost my appetite and couldn't eat a bite.

But cooking it was great therapy anyway.

x

Banana Cake Recipe

Here it is for Lulu!

•2-4 Overipe bananas (or baked in foil, as per previous post) You can be flexible with how many bananas you use. Sometimes I put in a whole bunch, for extra punch. Still works! Just get a more moist cake. Never a bad thing.

• 175g (6oz) brown / demerara sugar

• 3 large eggs, room temperature

• 250g (9oz) Self Raising flour (I use wheat-free alternatives which work well too)

• 175g (6oz) Unsalted butter, room temperature

• 1/2 teaspoon of baking powder

Optional extras, which I always add

• chocolate chips - lots

• best quality vanilla extract. Just a few drops, as they tend to be strong. Or if you can get a real vanilla pod, scoop out the seeds and use fresh (and preserve the 'shell' in a jar of sugar, for some home flavoured vanilla sugar. That's a Jamie O tip!) 

If its a grown up cake, a slosh of booze works well too. Brandy or Rum, or just get creative, within reason! 

Method: 

- Preheat the oven to 'moderate' which is apparently around 180C/350F/Gas Mark 4

- Line baking tin base with greaseproof paper. Dust with a little four on the insides, all round.

- In a bowl, cream together the butter and sugar. If the butter isn't at room temp, will be much harder. Aim for a lump free, smooth butter sugar paste. Try and enjoy this bit, its as hard as it gets. Play some Jazz, or Old Soul, something 'smoochy' to help it along. It works.

- Whisk in all the liquid-y stuff: Eggs, bananas, vanilla extract, booze (if adding) and combine well.

- Now add dry ingriedients. Sift the flour and baking powder over the bowl. Add the choc chips, and fold all together gently to retain as much of the air as possible.

- Step back, admire the beautiful gloopy batter, jewelled with chocolate, then gently pour it all into the prepared baking tin. Leave enough in the bowl to lick out for yourself.

- Bake in the centre of the oven for around 40 mins to start with, then check it. Will probably need longer, so test it in the middle with a skewer. It will be done when it comes out clean. Final times depend on your oven, so just keep an eye on it.

- When its cooked, the whole kitchen and beyond will smell amazing. Allow it to cool al little, then decorate it however you like. I cover it with grated chocolate, I love the light powdery texture of it against the rich moist cake. 

Admire your creation and Enjoy!

Let them eat Cake!

I love baking cakes. Everything about it. Cakes are all about celebration, feeling happy, treating yourself and others, or just showing love. When you bake a cake you cant help but smile the whole way through it. 

Making a banana cake is a personal favourite, because you are guaranteed to get something that is moist and crumbly -  never dry. The trick is to get bananas that are so over ripe they are almost black, they will give you the most fragrant cake. If you want a cake but cant be bothered to wait till the bananas over-ripen, I thought of a little trick! Wrap them in foil and bake them in a hot oven till they look like this:

The skins will go black and the flesh inside is aromatic and gooey and gorgeous. I got the idea from a summer recipe, where you slit open the top of a banana, add chunks of chocolate just under the skin, wrap in foil then cook on the BBQ. But for here, just the flesh is all you need and when its baked in this way its perfect for this cake. 

My original recipe for this was taken from the Green&Blacks' recipe book, but I always change some of the details to suit my own taste. I add choc chips, lots of them, that way I find the kids get more excited when they see the actual chocolate (by the way, don't tell them its a banana cake, they won't eat it! Most kids think bananas are not fit for human consumption, but give them this cake and they will come back for seconds...and they did.)  To make a lighter cake you can substitute some of the flour for custard powder, this also adds a slightly warmer colour to the cake, but I didn't do that this time round. I use a wheat & gluten free alternative to regular self-raising flour, and I find that is already lighter and works brilliantly. The thing about making cakes is enjoying every stage. Put some 'smooth' sounds on, a bit of Al Green always seems right when I'm creaming the sugar and butter together! Take your time with that bit, be patient and enjoy it. When your arm aches you know its gonna be a good cake. Then the fun begins, combine all the rest of the good stuff together and you get a beautiful batter, thick, moist and gloopy. Pour into a lined baking tin, place gently in the oven, and find a quiet spot where you can lick out the bowl without being disturbed. You regress back to childhood when you take a moment to enjoy the full pleasure of licking out the bowl and spoon, slowly, almost in a zen like manner. Talk about being in the moment! (Ok, I don't get out enough...)

As its baking, the smell coming from the oven is the most comforting, warming fragrance for a freezing cold winter day. I literally let out a little squeal of joy when I took it out. It was so beautiful - I felt like doing a little dance. (In fact, I did.) Then, let it cool a little, cover the top with grated chocolate, and you have a little something like this:

Moist, crumbly, fragrant, soft and totally indulgent. 

Perfect for deepest darkest winter days.

Perfect covered with custard, for keeping kids quiet (at least till the sugar high kicks in...then you hand them back to their own parents),

Perfect for sharing with your girl friends whilst getting hysterical/teary/laughing like hyenas/whilst watching re-runs of SATC,

Perfect for eating alone, served with a large mug of frothy hot chocolate, curled up on the sofa, and watching the world go by.

Just Perfect.

The Annual Family Xmas/New Year Gathering

It's late, I'm completely exhausted, there are still dishes to wash in the kitchen and unfinished glasses of red wine scattered around the living room, but it's all evidence of another end to one of our regular family gatherings. My sisters, their husbands and kids descend on us en masse all at once, very rarely, because of the sheer organisation involved. Once gathered, there are 13 adults and 8 kids (plus one on the way), and this is 'immediate' family. We are such a cliche of an Indian family, but I love it. When we do get together it ends up being a major food fest, the preparation for it usually starts two days in advance. Me and my mum have our work cut out, but tonight was a success and seemed to be quite a smooth operation. The kids were brilliant entertainment, and made me laugh no end, was lovely to be able to kick back and catch up with the siblings, and I got spoilt with lots of lovely gifts for xmas, which I totally didn't expect. The kids have great taste!

The greatest success and my pride of the evening were my desserts, the promised Apple Crumble and also my Banana and Chocolate Chip Cake, both served with custard as optional. There's nothing like the smell of baking to warm up a house, and the looks of excitement on the kids faces when they knew they had that to look forward to was too cute. They suddenly become angels, and are on their best behaviour! Priceless. It was great to have my homegirl, Manders, joining us as special guest too, so she can back me up on this one!

So watch this space and I'll post the details very shortly.

For now, this hostess is crashing out. 

Thank goodness Christmas and New Years is out the way! x

Welcome

Why the humble Apple? Symbol of purity and health. Also the fruit of sin and temptation.

I love the duality of what it represents.

I grew up with an Appletree in my back garden. In the Spring I would look forward to waking up to seeing the blossom bloom, the beautiful pink flowers on the tree would remind me that my birthday was not far away. In the Summer I would play on the swing my Grandfather built for us, hanging from the tree. Leaning back on the swing, kicking my legs in the air, gazing at the sun filtering through the leaves, that tree would be where I would go to when I wanted to lose myself in my imagination. In the Autumn I admired the leaves changing colour and looked forward to the jars that would be filled with my Granny's homemade Apple Pickle and Apple Jam. My Grandfather would beam with pride at the ripest, reddest fruit falling off the tree. In the Winter, my least favourite season, the branches stripped bare looked cold and lonely, but I would comfort myself in the knowledge that it was just sleeping. I wished I could sleep through the Winter. My Appletree gazed over our family dreamily as I grew up. I loved that tree.

But that tree came to a predictable fate. After all, it grew in a Punjabi garden in west london. It was eventually replaced by concrete and an extension. The perils of having a builder for a dad. No more apple jam, apple pickle or apple blossom. No more dappled sunlight filtering through my bedroom window, no more chirping birds to wake me in the summer. Now I just hear the pigeons that crawl through the cracks in the roof and get lodged in the loft. The romance of my childhood has made way for the realities of adulthood.

However, I'm a shameless romantic and the love is still there. My love for that fruit has its legacy. My love for everything about food started with the apple. The apple is to me what the egg is to Delia. Where it all begins. I have even cemented a solid reputation as favourite aunty to my nieces and nephews by feeding them with my apple crumble at every opportunity. Buying their love through homebaked goods. Works every time.

From the humble apple, my passion for food grew. So after much procrastination I have given in to the temptation to take time out to create this food blog. (Yawn...who needs another blog?!...I hear you cry!) Well no one needs another blog, just like no one needs to eat calorific, stodgy desserts. Its not about need, its about pleasure and indulgence. This little venture into cyber writing is my little indulgence. 

As Dusty once sang, we are all But an Apple Whirling Silently in Space. With the haunting melody of the Windmills of Your Mind playing in the background, I invite you on this journey with me. A journey into my world through the food in my life.