Sunday, August 3, 2014

The inevitable kids pizza moment

I always have a stash of hidden-vegetable-sauce. Onions, celery, peppers, carrots, tomatoes, garlic, even spinach enter the mix and get blitzed. This is the back-up meal always ready in the fridge and freezer for the boy, Billy. It's not rocket science and I'm sure most parents do the same.

Back late last weekend though, fed up of cooking him pasta to go with the magic sauce, we decided to make pizza. With a dough recipe almost entirely lifted from Hugh Fearnly-Whittingstall's family cook book he kneaded and squidged and had a right royal time, unaware he was plotting his own supper. Baked at 220C with added spinach and ricotta this may well become his new favourite dinner. Well worth the effort.

The beauty of the moment was that we ate the same meal, at the same time, together and both enjoyed it. He went to bed full, and I nursed a small hangover with a few episodes of The Wire. Win win.

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Quick and Foraged

My Dad brought round some blackberries a few days ago. The time is right and they are on every bush in London. He usually comes bearing gifts: a couple of slices of homemade bread wrapped in foil; a little bracelet; a book he can't cope with throwing away; even old curtains once with the suggestion they would make a nice dress! But these blackberries were lovely. Billy, our boy, had a few fistfulls but I knew he wouldn't get through all of them. So I whipped up a quick pudding with them. And it was the perfect use for some urban foraging. Nothing more than heated with about a tablespoon of water and the same of sugar. Once cool I stirred in set natural yogurt, and piled into some glasses. Tart and delicious and beautifully marbled.

Sunday, July 13, 2014

Accidental wheat-free noodle salad for a perfect summer lunch box.

I've always had a bit of a fixation with noodle salads and moreover glass noodle salads. There is something so etherial about their whole business. They seem angelic, and suit clean flavours and crunchiness and sweetness and basically all things vietnamese in style. But I had always thought it was a bit of pot luck whether you ended up with clear strands or the milky siblings that are common. It turns out, after a lot of delving and questions at Wing Tai Supermarket (their staff are eternally long-suffering to my over-keen questions) that the difference lies is the ingredients and it's not pot-luck after all. The noodles that I love with all my heart, it turns out, are made with mung beans, and the milky noodles which are everywhere are made with rice. Viola! Sometimes understanding the simple nuances makes such a big difference in cooking and indeed results.

So it turns out that my favourite noodles of all time are actually wheat-free. This has come in very handy at Rosie's as our salad boxes are fast becoming our best selling lunch. Having this gorgeous light summery salad on offer is the perfect solution for all those poor people who can't indulge in the hunks of bread and bowls of pasta I am want to devour. It's the beauty of accidental health food.

Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Fish food = Fast food.

I seem to be cooking a lot of fish at the moment. It really is the epitome of fast-food. It is a food that hasn't been tampered with, it is unprocessed and really good for you. You really can not get more simple or pure than a piece of steamed fish. Just five or ten minutes and you have yourself a really decent home cooked meal, especially if you throw in some herbs, pickled goods and mayonnaise and obviously always a lemon.

Most recently, we acquired an extra mouth to feed at dinner, our old friend 'Scouse-Mouse', down from Liverpool. The inevitable would be a the usual mad rush to beat the desperate queues at Kaosarn, and have ourselves a top-notch fiery thai take-away. But we have been doing way too much of that recently. Not only is it expensive, but it's lazy and I'm on a mission to do less of this. So I said "No" to Raf, "I'm handling this" and put in the extra effort, at late notice to make a good dinner, which shouldn't be that hard! But what can you cook in half an hour that tastes at all good? What is the perfect fast food? Fish. I ran to the fishmongers in Brixton Market and nabbed us 3 Seabass, filleted and ready to go. With it, we had a new potato salad with shaved fennel, chopped tarragon, cucumber and cos. It was wet and aniseedy and married perfectly with plainly fried fish fillets. One of the best bits about making this was quite how much Scouse-Mouse loved it - it makes the whole thing worth while.

The second fast food with fish was heaven. Raf isn't much into pasta these days so it has become my marvellous private treat on the nights that he is out DJing. Pasta all to my self. Just the way I like it. Like I said, heaven. This time, with little in the house, I rustled up dinner for one (well, probably for two, but it did me just fine). I found some crab meat in the freezer. I had some shallots and really decent bottle of white wine from Dave at Market Row Wines. This recipe is really so simple. I forgot to measure most of the elements so you'll just have to do it by eye I'm afraid. Once Billy (our boy) had gone to bed, I was able to whip this up in 15 minutes or so, basically, as long as it takes to cook your spaghetti.

olive oil
a bunch of parsley
a birds eye chilli
a large glass of white wine
crab meat
freshly ground pepper
sea salt
1/2 a lemon, juiced
spaghetti (100g per person?)
extra virgin olive oil

Put a pan of water on for your pasta. Add salt and cook until tender. Meanwhile, peel and slice your shallots and garlic. Heat some olive oil in a frying pan on a low heat. Add the shallots and garlic and sweat until transparent but definitely not brown. Finely and meticulously chop the parsley and chilli. Set aside. Pour in a good glass of white wine to the pan, add the crab meat and some seasoning. Simmer gently for a few minutes. Drain the spaghetti, keeping a little of the starchy water aside. Return the pasta to the pan, add the crab, the parsley and chilli, lemon juice, a little pasta water so it isn't dry and then taste. Finally finish with some extra virgin olive oil for maximum flavour and impact. Dinner alone never tasted so good.

Friday, March 28, 2014

Gorgeous Granola. Easier than ever

I have found the perfect granola recipe. It has taken me some years but finally I have a harmoniously orchestrated nutty jar of sweet sweets, but not too sweet. I have played with quite a few recipes and tinkered with more. And every time I do, something seems wrong: it ends up too sticky; majorly clumpy or just not quite what I have in my mind's eye. It has been very frustrating. Finally, however, I have really got somewhere. And it turns out it is pretty simple with this clear and easy formula in mind. Testament to following a good recipe properly, this has worked every time I have baked it. Just stick to the rules. And an added bonus, this literally takes 35 minutes to make so you don't even need to forward plan your perfect health fiesta brunch. Go wild, make a last minute decision. 

Given that this is a blueprint recipe, you can play around with the different elements, depending on what is good value in the shops or what you have to hand at home. Just so long as you stick to the correct amounts of wet and dry goods. At Rosie's, we have done a few different batches: those with shredded coconut for a hot and tropical scent or another with loads of decadent flaked almonds for a luxe version. 

This recipe is such a hit I have instantly added it to our menu at the cafe, served with fruit from the market and freshest sharp natural yogurt. It really is delicious. As the original recipe came from an American website, I've done it in cups for continuity. 

1/2 cup vegetable oil
1/2 cup sweetener, either honey or maple syrup
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
4 cups oats, a mix of course and rolled works well for a varied texture
2 cups any mix of nuts and seeds. I have used coconut, sunflower, sesame and almonds
a pinch of salt 

Preheat your oven to 180c and line 3 baking trays with grease proof paper. Warm together the oil, sweetener and cinnamon until is it gently boiling and combined. This can either be done in a microwave or a small pan depending on what is easier for you. Meanwhile in a large bowl mix together the oats, nuts and salt. Using a good spatula, quickly work in the wet ingredients to the dry ones. Be sure that it is well mixed and consistently blended. Turn the mix out onto the baking trays and spread evenly. Place in the oven for 30 minutes, tossing and mixing every ten minutes until your granola is golden and toasted. Be careful not to stray too far from the oven as it can burn easily and quicker than you think. Remove from the oven and leave to cool entirely. Jar up when cold or tuck in immediately depending on your urgency.

Sunday, November 24, 2013

Felicity Cloake's Perfect Goan Fish Curry is Perfect

I have been using a lot of Felicity Cloake recently. She really is the go-to for classics, as her column and books are about the best version of a recipe, hence the title, 'Perfect'.  So when you have a hunch about what to have for dinner, she usually has a recipe to match your wont. Last night we wandered down to the fishmonger's and bought two hunky looking Kingfish steaks, which naturally led us to sniffing out a south indian curry recipe. Felicity's recipe was mighty fine and refreshingly simple. I tweaked a few things as for instance we didn't have any curry leaves in, but other than that we pretty much stuck to the plan. Notable were the 5 cloves of garlic which really completed the aromatic picture and I wouldn't have had the guts to add this many had she not stimpulated so. One mentionable change was that I grated the onions. This worked really beautifully in making a velvety texture around the meaty fish. Served with simple buttery cardamon infused basmati, this was indeed 'perfect'.

For the masala:
3 cloves
1 tbsp coriander seeds
1 tsp cumin seeds
1 tsp chilli flakes
2 star anise
½ tsp turmeric
1 tbsp palm sugar
1 tsp salt
5 garlic cloves, peeled and crushed
3cm root ginger, peeled and grated
1½ tbsp white vinegar
3 tbsp vegetable oil
1 onion, grated
1 large tomato, sliced into segments
165ml tin of coconut milk
2 fresh green chillies, slit lengthwise
2 kingfish streak
½ tsp mustard seeds
To make the masala, in a dry frying-pan toast the cloves, coriander, cumin, chilli flakes and star anise. When they are emitting a strong fragrance pour into a heavy duty pestle and mortar and give them a good grind. The star anise particularly need some elbow grease. Now add the turmeric, sugar, salt, garlic and ginger. This will gradually become a sticky deep orange. When you are exhausted with an aching elbow, add the vinegar. 

To make the sauce, heat the oil in a heavy bottomed pan. Add the onion and sweat for about 5 minutes. Now add the masala paste, stirring for a few minutes. Add the tomatoes and coconut milk and about 300ml of water and chillies. Simmer for 20 minutes or so. When the sauce is silky and thickened, add the steaks and simmer for a further ten minutes. Whilst the fish cooks, make a tadka by frying the mustard seeds until they begin to pop in a pan of oil. Pour this straight into the curry and serve. 

Monday, November 18, 2013

Dinner? Yes Please!

We were recently taken to Heston Blumenthal's restaurant at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel in Knightsbridge, Dinner. Fancy! It was a hugely absorbitant treat which had long been brewing. The babysitter was booked, the outfits pressed, and off we went with my in-laws, on a Friday jolly. We had all perused the menu online, pondered our orderings, done a little research and generally psyched ourselves up. Restaurants in hotels can be a bit odd in my opinion, a bit airless and lacking in character (but always done up to the nines by an interior designer). However, on arrival we were pleasantly surprised. Reflecting the concept, dimming the wall-lights were massive milky shades based on old jelly moulds - very Mrs Beeton. Simple and effective.

The pure pleasure of being really well treated it noteable here. The waiters are perfectly attentive and explain everything, including the rotisserie roasting pineapples groaning and turning on heavy-duty iron machinery. It looks more like something you might loose a limb to in the industrial revolution. The very visible kitchen is like as beehive, full of activity and calm and order. Very very ordered.

To start, I had a simply served roast marrow with snails and anchovies. The accompanying pickles were so lightly preserved they still had a fantastic fresh crunch and life, and the cauliflower was cured with a little turmeric, a perfect twist to the tale. Served on an alabaster piece of bone it was simple and effective. The other main event in the starters was of course the meat fruit for which Dinner is famous: a pate encased in a mandarin gelatin case. It was so believable you could easily have slung the single fruit into the christmas centre-piece! And once bust open, the most delicate and slightly boozy parfait emerges. This dish is full of theatre but backed up with flavour.

Main courses were just the right size. I was fearful of a big lunch, as it often renders one entirely useless for the afternoon ahead (and sometimes even the next day). But these plates were just right. We had the Cod in cider with mussels and chard. The latter was firm and al-dente, if a leaf can be that. Seasoning was really perfect. A dollop of over-buttered silky mash was the perfect side order here. There was also Hereford ribeye, just the way you want it (which came with a deep spiced mushroom ketchup); chicken cooked with lettuce which was a plain and well constructed affair (a breast served in a tube, perhaps cooked in a sous-vide?) garnished with leaves; and hallibut which came with a few different seaweeds, always a favourite with me. Each dish was effective. The purpose of Dinner is to recreate old recipes. As we none of us know much about medieval foods it is hard to say whether Heston succeeds. However, he certainly makes beautiful, gentle and thoughtful food.

The puddings were all exciting. Biased, I definitely thought mine was the best: Taffety tart which was a perfect little sandwich of bursting flavours. The fennel and liquid aniseed nestled naturally amoung the frosted rose petals, brittle pastries and soft ice cream. The actual apple element with a set layer more like a membrillo which was spiced and rich. Coffees were strong (just what you need after this sensory marathon) and came with near-liquid ganache pots, such was the ratio of cream and chocolate.

Once I have recovered my waistline (and the in-laws bank balance) I would love a return to Dinner. It was everything we wanted it to be: the perfect balance of theatre, excellence and luxury.

Wednesday, November 6, 2013


One of my new favourite things is a bean sprout salad. It sounds a bit worthy, but trust me, it brings new light to these odd jellylike strands which have always rather confused me. Bought in big bags in the Wing Tai Supermarket, we usually use half a bag in a hot chicken broth and then the remaining sproglets lurk in the fridge until they take on a really rather revolting odour. Whilst this speaks volumes of my bad organisation in the refrigeration department, it also highlights how I suspect few of us really know what to do with a bean sprout. Great with some chicken skewers and simple rice, this really is like penicillin. Given that sprouts are very high in water you need to add flavours which are punchy and bring life, so don't hold back on the salt or toasted sesame oil - it really completes the picture. 

Inspired by one of the best spots in Brixton Market, I've added kelp. This adds a really meaty angle to the simple salad. At Mama Lan's you can eat in peace (sometimes a hard task in Brixton!) I always order the vegetarian dumplings with a seaweed salad. It is always an absolute treat and entirely restorative sanctuary.

So, you need: 
a bag of beansprouts
some dried kelp
toasted sesame oil
light soy sauce
caster sugar
sea salt
a little chilli oil
the green tops of spring onions, sliced finely
black sesame seeds

All these ingredients can be bought from a Chinese supermarket like the Wing Tai. First of all bring a salted pot of water to the boil. When this is at a rumbling boil heap in the bean sprouts. Blanch for about 3 minutes and then plunge into cold water. They should be translucent. Meanwhile, pour boiling water of a handful of kelp to bring it back to life. Make the dressing by combining the sesame oil, soy, sugar, sea salt and chilli oil. The dressing should have a good salty kick so don't be shy. Thoroughly drain the sprouts and kelp, even placing in a clean drying-up cloth to absorb any excess water. Dress generously and garnish with lots of black sesame seeds and spring onions. This salad will keep for a few days in the fridge which is always helpful.

Monday, November 4, 2013


Right now, the darker the chocolate, the more hallowed it seems to be. And often, this is true. Milky chocolates can be over sweet and sickly. However, recently I've been fed up with the trend so wanted to explore some dairy chocolate cakes that are less intimidating than their deep dark chocolate counterparts (which often dry the mouth). The results have become a standard within weeks at Rosie's. Paired with banana, milk chocolate makes a fantastic loaf, a little chocolately, a little sweet and a lot comforting. The recipe from whence this comes has been slightly tweaked around. Yogurt instead of sour cream for example. Come and do a taste test. I'll throw in the tea for free. xxx

Saturday, October 12, 2013

a few pictures for a sunny saturday

These were taken by Stefan at Pixeled Studios who kindly rushed down one afternoon a few weeks ago. We love them! Especially the vivid colours.

Friday, October 4, 2013

Swede not Suede.

I recently made a really delicious stock. The trick was that I chucked in half a swede. So happy with my revelatory creation that I frantically tweeted the information, before realising that swede is not spelt suede. Bummer. It rather shows the perils of premature social media outbursts! Whether it be  leathery or rooty, swede really does make for a sweet and delicious stock, paired with a good chicken carcass and some allspice berries, and simmered for a very long time.

The risotto itself was pretty simple and followed the usual pattern. Shallots, butter, saffron, rice, vermouth. I added roughly chopped string beans which have been in abundance of late and piled in the parmesan. Shared with my one of dearest of girlfriends, and washed down with cheap-corner-shop-wine and some seriously good gossip, it made for a perfect midweek dinner.

Saturday, September 21, 2013

Doubled-Up Bolognese. Familiar classics.

These day I find myself cooking a lot of meals: those for us, and also our 1 year old boy. Chillies are out and cheese is in. I've been cooking much more traditional food. The stuff that is nostalgic and comforting and very very sturdy. Fits-all-food. All these meals can make life rather complicated though. The fear is that one will end up cooking 6 rather than 3 meals a day and be a constant slave. However, I am dodging this with some clever one-pot juggling. This evening I've a couple of friends coming round so I've cooked up a pot of vegetable heavy bolognese. The soffritto is packed with blended celery, chunks of carrot and loads of tomatoes. It's definitely more than 1 of your 5 a day! I stewed the whole pot right down without adding any sugar or salt and have kept a good few tubs aside for Billy (the boy). Meanwhile I have turboed up the remaining grown-up pan with seasoning (lots) and a generous dose of vermouth for kick. Roll on dinner time. It may be nursery food, but it's going to be very good nursery food. Here's the recipe, which feeds 3 adults and 1 child:

Classic Bolognese

2 tbsp olive oil
2 small onions, blended or finely chopped
2 cloves of garlic, crushed
2 carrots, blended or finely chopped
4 sticks of celery, blended or finely chopped
2 cans of chopped tomatoes
1 tbsp olive oil
500g minced beef
100ml vermouth
1 dsp lea and perrins sauce
Sea salt, sugar and pepper

Heat the oil in a heavy bottomed medium pan on a medium flame. Blend the onions and garlic together so that you have a smooth mix. Pour into the pan and sweat for a few minutes, mixing frequently. Now add the carrots and celery and again sweat, this time for about 5 minutes. Add the tomatoes and continue to simmer for half an hour on a low heat. Meanwhile heat some more oil in a frying pan. Add the beef and then quickly and meticulously stir and break it up as much as possible. There should be NO lumps. When the meat is beginning to brown, add to the vegetables and continue to simmer for another 10 minutes.

At this point, remove however much you need for your child to a container and refrigerate when cool. Continue cooking the grown-up sauce, adding vermouth and seasoning and worcester sauce and simmer for another 5 minutes.  Cook your spaghetti and add parmesan or mild cheddar to serve.

Wednesday, September 18, 2013


The nice people at Carlton Publishing sent me a rather beautiful book recently. A whole book dedicated to kitchen stuff, Essential Equipment for the Kitchen, this book isn't the normal sort of thing that I talk about on here. But that's the deal: you get sent a book. You talk about it. I could dress it up with some sort of preamble but that usually looks a bit heavy handed. So I won't.
That said, this book is genuinely right up my street. And I'm not being paid to say so or anything! Each page is dedicated to a different design classic or kitchen object of desire. I do love a design classic.
The reassuring fact here, is how many of these design classics I actually own. It makes me feel like I'm really getting somewhere, building my tiny little empire of Kilner jars, pyrex jugs, Nambu Tekki saucepans (a wedding present). The beauty of this sort of a catalogue is that it makes you look at those ordinary every day objects with renewed respect. It's easy to forget how brilliant the ordinary is.
And then the other quality of a book like this is that it gets the juices flowing for the list of 'wants': my top three are the Robert Welch candlestick; the Jasper Morrison Kettle (so sleek!) and more Global knives. Anyone, feel free to gift!
This book makes for an excellent bit of bedtime reading and well worth giving to someone that a. likes design. b. likes cooking. Simple.

Saturday, July 27, 2013


My husband has gone away for the weekend. And he's taken the baby! I haven't been alone for ten months. Not really. Not without Billy. So this morning, having bid them farewell, I slunk back to bed to watch the last episode of Luther on the iplayer, lolled around in my pyjamas, oiled all the worktops and finally headed out with my shopping trolley. With the world (well, Peckham) as my oyster, I headed for Franks Cafe and had a shandy and some mackerel escabeche. It was delicious, uninterrupted and very sunny. I cruised into Charlie's at Flock and Herd for a piece of gammon and headed home with the ambition of some focussed recipe testing. The pavlova base is cooling in the oven and here's the lemon curd recipe to accompany these little snaps.


Makes 400ml

4 lemons, zest and juice
200g caster sugar
100g unsalted butter, diced
4 egg yolks
1 egg

Place the zest, juice, sugar and butter in a small mixing bowl over a baine marie. Heat slowly until all these ingredients are combined. Now briskly whisk in the eggs. Keep on the heat, whisking from time to time until thick like custard. Cool a little and then pour into sterilized jars. 

Pretty easy, right?

Sunday, June 16, 2013

Can YOU bone a chicken?

This is such a great recipe I just wanted to share it with you all. It is of course, rather tricky to bone a chicken but once mastered it is quite therapeutic. And of course, presenting this dramatic, marbled and flecked stuffed bird will definitely wow your audience and have them marvelling at how you achieved such an effect. I couldn't possibly explain how to do it. That would take days. If you can't do it yourself, get your butcher to do it for you, carefully stipulating that it needs to be meticulously done with no holes (as they would then leak out the stuffing). For the stuffing, mix together sausage meat, wilted kale, diced chorizo and roasted red peppers. Sew your chicken up, roast at 180 degrees and cool. Once cold, slice like a ham. Isn't it gorgeous. The recipe for this can be found in Supper with Rosie, on page 126. X

Friday, May 17, 2013

The Brick Lane Lox

I woke up at 4am on Thursday such was my excitement over The Brick Lane Lox. Sean and I have been working away on this and tweaking and finally today, tasting. With both cured salmon and pickled cucumbers it requires some forethought and patience but I recon it's really worth the wait... We will be serving it tomorrow at Rosie's. The bagels come from the bagel shop on Brick Lane (where else?) We cured the salmon with beetroot, dill and sugar and salt, and the cucumbers are a house classic, soaked in a brine with fennel seeds. And of course the whole thing is glued together with a creamy cream cheese flecked with fresh dill. And it's just beautiful to look at! What more do you need from a Saturday hangover cure? Let us know what you think here.

Wednesday, May 15, 2013


It's been sitting right under my nose for ages so I feel a bit stupid for evangelising now, but have you been to The TFC? It stands, I presume, for The Turkish Food centre and it's wicked. A bit like a slither of Harringay, they sell all sorts of delicacies from Turkey: the freshest baklava I may have ever tasted outside of Istanbul; a full butchers array; every sort of pulse worth shaking a stick at; mini pans for heating milk; and enough Halloumi, or Helim, to feed a smallish army. In short it is extensive and excellent and really gets the creative juices flowing. I went there a few weeks ago and bought a mere 20 lamb cutlets which were reasonably priced and just fantastic. We marinated them in a light yogurt dressing with turmeric and fennel seeds. Quickly fried on a slab of cast iron they were rare and green tasting. Along side these, we had warm bulgar wheat with chickpeas (very good chickpeas. They come in glass jars. Look out for them) lots of soft sweet onions and again turmeric. It was bloody delicious. Check it out.

Sunday, May 5, 2013

Spring Cleaning and Salt Beef

We've  been closed for a week, with Sean at the helm of a refurbishment for Rosie's. It has given me nightmares but when I arrived at the deli yesterday morning I was totally overcome by what an amazing job he had done and how lovely our little cafe is. The music was pumping and the vibes were very very strong! And all the girls were busily putting everything back in place and creating the warmth and vitality that we are known for. I caught up with an old friend over coffee and then ordered what is fast becoming a signature sandwich, The Reuben. It was absolutely sensational - sharp pickled cabbage, salty wet beef, fat gerkins, swiss cheese and a delicious sweet dressing. It is honestly one of the tastiest things I have ever had. So come on over, check out the new improved deli (even with a roof window drenching the place in natural sunlight) and try a classic Reuben on rye. Wash it down with a flatwhite and bob's your uncle. To be honest, I am so hungover this morning after Sink the Pink that I might actually have to get an express delivery.

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Spice up your life

.... In the words of The Spice Girls.

My husband has been away for 2 weeks, living it up on work in LA. I have been looking after Billy, our baby, a wonderful and relentless task. You frequently forget to eat and I have been totally devoid of inspiration in the kitchen. This is because food for one, at the end of a very long day, is just boring. There are no two ways about it. I made a pasta sauce and that lasted a few days. And then there was some set polenta, which when shallow fried makes a delicious treat. Hardly interesting though.

Raf got home and within an instant, the chillies were out and we were plotting our dinner. Maybe that's the point. You get to plot and ruminate together and converse until you reach the decision of what is for supper. Then you go shopping and grab a few things, and then things start hotting up. Last night we had a simple crunchy noodle salad, loaded with chillies and turmeric baked chicken thighs. And tonight I've quite literally knocked up a peri peri chicken marinade (perhaps fitting as our first date was actually to Nandos!) We decided on buttery rice like they serve in the Portuguese cafes in and around Brixton, and a crunchy lemon dressed bowl of iceberg lettuce. It just seems so much more exciting than what I've been cooking in his absence. Thank god he is home.

To make Peri Peri Sauce, it really is very easy. Whizz up the following... A roasted red pepper (I used a jarred one), 4 garlic cloves, 7 small red chilies, 1 lemon, juiced, 2 tsp salt, lots of freshly milled pepper, 1 tsp smoked hot paprika, 1 tbsp ketchup, 1 tbsp dried oregano, 2 tbsp olive oil and 3 tbsp white wine vinegar. Pour over your chicken. I took the wings off mine and then chopped the whole carcass in half which required a little elbow grease. Leave for a few hours to melge. Shortly Raf will sling it on the BBQ, that's if I can wake him from his jetlag induced sofa coma.


Sunday, March 31, 2013

An untraditional Easter lunch

We have been plotting today's lunch all week. It's very simple actually, dependent on a good homemade chicken stock and some decent sea bass. It was, I must concede, perfect. Light but filling. Delicate and straight forward. There is a waft of aniseed from the crushed fennel seeds which nicely off sets the fish. And equally the creaminess of risotto rice juxtaposes the clean fish meat.

Simply, make a risotto starting with celery and shallots. Use lots of butter. Add puréed butternut squash, saffron and good stock. Finish with more butter and Parmesan.

For the fish, it will take about 6 minutes. Make a rub by grinding fennel seeds, red pepper corns and rock salt. Rub this on the skin side of fillets of sea bass. Fry in a non stick pan on a high heat so that the skins become crisp and brittle.

Serve with crisply fried pancetta for a salty injection.

We got our sea bass from Soper's in Nunhead. Just so you know.


Monday, March 25, 2013

Every Grain of Rice by Fuchsia Dunlop

I gave my husband, Raf, Every Grain of Rice for Christmas. This was clearly a selfish present. However as it turns out, he gave me Charles Phan's Vietnamese Home Cooking, so we are basically even. Or both obsessed with food. Both books are beautifully published and insight extreme cooking lock-ins!

As Raf was in Miami this weekend, my best friend Doctor Helen and I had planned to engulf ourselves in Every Grain of Rice by Fuchsia Dunlop. A Chinese banquet of new proportions. We chose an array of dishes, some new to us and some more familiar friends, and a few of our own too. It was an absolute blast and I can't think of a much better way to spend a Saturday. While Billy, the baby, bounced in the doorway, we poached beef, smashed cucumbers and pressure cooked the most unctuous ribs I have EVER tasted.

What's great about Fuchsia's book and something really noteworthy, is that each of the dishes we produced looked exactly like the food photographed in the book. This isn't always the case. For extreme proof of this, checkout Pip's acerbic blog on just this subject. Here is a beef dish and a cucumber salad which are almost identical to Fuchsia's. The beef dish called for shin, not a cut I have previously bought. You slow poach it for hours with ginger and spices (which makes the house smell fantastic). Cold and finely sliced, heaped with crunchy celery and nuts and a dressing, it's not your average Chinese take-away standard. It's hot and deep and thoroughly pleasing (I was worried it was going to be dry but it's not. It's flaky and delicious). The cucumbers were also a triumph. Literally smashed, with a rolling pin, and marinated in Chinese chilli oil and Szechuan pepper corns, this salad is disceptively fiery and fantastic as a result: hot from the dressing and cold from the watery cucumbers.

We also made Chicken with blackbeans, which sounds more recognisable. You might be imagining diced breasts and a gloopy blackbean sauce. THINK AGAIN. Like every cook worth their salt, she stipulates thighs, a much more tasty portion of bird, being close to the bone and blessed with more brown meat. The thighs were marinated in a light mix of soy sauces, shaoxing cooking wine (which smells just like sherry actually) and potato flour. At the last they were fried in Doctor Helen's well seasoned wok with peppers and salted black beans. These, like many ingredients listed in this great book, can be bought at a good Asian super market. Our nearest and dearest is called Wing Tai Supermarket and without stressing the point too much, is my favourite shop in the world. Whilst these new fangled ingredients may be off putting initially, don't be faint hearted. By exploring new ingredients you will learn so much. The black beans came in a small packet and were shrivelled with a slight bloom. Rinsed, they were absolutely delicious. I would happily eat these just as they are with a cold beer as a snack. They are small and potent and salty and when added to lightly seasoned chicken they are the perfect juxtaposition. Once you have cooked (and quickly devoured, hence the lack of photo) this dish properly you will understand why it has become such a stalwart in the Anglo-Chinese restaurant culture.

In short, buy this book. It's bleeding good and the food is delicious. Accept the challenge, do some foraging in your local shops and you too can have a perfect Chinese banquet.



Thursday, March 21, 2013

Just a note on dumplings x

After our recent trip to Australia, I decided to go the whole hog, the extra mile, and start making dumplings. We tried some really good ones. Din Tai Fung near paddys markets does wicked hot stock filled bombs. Here I have made classic pork dumplings and also beetroot root and ginger ones, slightly less traditional. They made a perfect early supper, dippedin a sharp vinegar sauce. I can not wait for our little boy to start eating food. We are going to have so much fun with this s**t! X

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

New Discoveries in Old London

Chuse has been coming to Rosie's for about a year. And he always orders the same thing. A small milky coffee, a good european one. I love these sorts of customers. Unassuming and consistent. And it turns out that thick accented spaniard has a passion for ham. Seriously good ham. A few weeks ago he opened a bar, as an extension of his existing jamon stall at Malty Street Market. I went with my oldest friend Helen, who is so good at spanish she gets asked which village she is from, and her husband Simon. So the three (well, four including the baby) of us went off on a wild goose chase, with no idea what we were looking for. After farting around with some parking, and wrapping up the baby, we headed over and went straight into a well light arch with a lovely looking menu. Only after drinking a couple of glasses we realised we were at the wrong place. It was nice, but it just wasn't quite right. So on we went down the dimly light Rope Walk, past the spoils of LASSCO and various roasting houses and stores until just at the end, with a mostly drawn curtain, we found Bar Tozino. Man, was it worth the work.

Bar Tozino is dark and wood lined, and like all good spanish joints, super child friendly which was nice, because Billy is only 3 months old. Its brilliant. Chuse welcomed us with open arms to his warm woody cave filled with deeply aged hams from Spain. We ordered glasses of Cava which were refreshing and crisp and reminded us of one of our favourite nights in Barcelona a few years ago. The menu is appropriately small and really appealing: we had ham (obviously) both from Chuse's brothers farm and also a 4 year aged one which was so rich and sweet it  slightly knocks your socks off. And the milder one from Chuse's family is mild and creamy and youthful. After that came a bowl of soft chickpeas cooked up with chorizo. Not the cheap acidic stuff but smoky lumps of soft meat. And not a dark red sauce but a pink real tomatoey type thing. It was perfect. And then we got this waft, of rosemary and fat and demanded to know what was cooking. Ribs, cured and like bacon with a thick slab of fat encasing them. We chewed away on the ribs and listened to Chuse's stories until Billy finally worked out we were having too much fun and started to cry. Bar Tozino is well worth the visit. Go and meet Chuse and his team and get told great stories about meat and Spain. Next time I go, it'll be without Billy, much as I love him. And I'm going to drink loads and eat more. It's like dipping a toe in a good holiday.

Friday, November 2, 2012

It's a Red Christmas...

I did a Christmas feature for Red Magazine. It was really fun, if pretty knackering, being 9 months pregnant as I was. Having grabbed a copy of the mag to have along with my Banh Mi lunch the other day, it turns out it was all worth it. The feature looks bloody brilliant, which is almost entirely down to the crew of people that created it - a very hard working bunch. The shoot was at our flat, a strange modern building on the top of a very windy hill. Check out these pictures and go buy yourself a copy! It's full of alternative recipes for Christmas, not turkey or brandy butter, but a slightly moorish twist with  quails  and heavy spices. Enjoy x