A lack of thinspiration

 

(This should have been posted yesterday, but I got distracted and didn't get round to it. Still, better late than never...)

I’ve had a day off all to myself. The last for a long time (everybody wants to get married in August). I have achieved much, including running errands for Diesel in town, doing ALL of the washing, cleaning the whole flat (minus the bathroom, Diesel it is definitely your turn), and completing a six kilometre personal best at the gym, all before three pm. Excellent work I thought to myself smugly, settling down in front of our new PC (we have two monitors and everything. Before you ask, I don’t know why we have two monitors) fingers poised over the keyboard, ready to write another blog post, and actually have time to enjoy it, rather than do it under the steely gaze of Diesel who is desperate for me to put the laptop down so we can watch the latest episode of ‘The Killing’. However, I upsettingly found that I didn’t know what to write. I was all out of ideas. My inspiration was gone. Desperately I went and made myself a cup of green tea, then straightened all the books in my bookshelf, and then arranged all of the cups in the cupboard in size order (I never realised before how many cups we own. We must be up to about 16, there are only two of us living here and if we do have people round and we offer them a drink, cups are never the appropriate receptacle). I then went and sat back down at the computer. Still nothing. What had I eaten recently of any note? Salad. Soup. More salad. Had I drunk any nice wine recently? Nope, you’re on a stop-getting-chunky-start-getting-healthy kick remember you total loser, after you had a big one last week and decided that you couldn’t take the pace anymore (I’m actually writing to myself here. Dear God). It isn’t that right now I don’t feel amazing, or that I haven’t made some pretty awesome salads this week, it’s just that I feel a bit like I’ve lost my food mojo. 

The sun is shining in Guernsey today, I have some great friends over here, but without the promise of a bit of a wine and naughty food blow out (I’d previously decided to try to lay off the booze this weekend and have a ‘sensible’ Friday night dinner), I guess I feel a bit deflated. So, not to be defeated, I hit upon the idea of having a read of some other food blogs that I particularly enjoy. Most notably, http://carolcookskeller.blogspot.com/ this (very brave) woman took it upon herself to cook everything in The French Laundry Cookbook (I own this, and have never attempted to cook anything from it) and write about it. She has finished it now and moved onto the Alinea cookbook (I do not own it, but even if I did would probably never attempt to cook anything from it). It really is a great blog, her writing is funny and engaging, and in most cases the food that she cooks looks delicious. I was immediately sucked in by the pastry recipes she did, notably the iles flotaine recipe, which is when it hit me. I only really, really get excited when I’m making (or thinking about making) things that are a bit naughty. When I make something delicious, I want to talk about it. What were all the salads doing to me? Come to think of it, what had I eaten that was truly delicious today? I need ice cream. Goddamn it I OWE myself ice cream. It’s the least I could do. Or a crepe with Nutella and banana. Another salad for dinner? Fuck that, it’s Friday. Tonight we will dine on fillet steak with garlic butter and homemade chips and iles flotaine for pudding, and complement it with a bottle of fine wine. No, not followed by a raft of Jaegerbombs (perhaps I just need to learn about ‘moderation’), but enough to remind me that it is Friday, I work bloody hard, and nobody likes a loser that eats salad on a Friday.

With all this in mind, I banged my hands on the table and stood up full of resolve, scanned my shelves for Ramon Blanc (Very simple iles flotaine recipe, thank you very much Ramon), grabbed my wallet and headed back into town. A trip to the local co-op allowed me to purchase the goods required, and I swung by the amazing French patisserie on my way home to pick up a vanilla and pecan ice cream because well, I just ruddy bloody wanted to. It was delicious. I then came home, sat back down in front of the laptop and started writing. It’s been a pleasure.

(By the way, I can't take the credit for the above photo. I took from http://www.eataduckimust.com/ Please take a look at it, their photos are beautiful!)

Iles flotaines

(meringues)

6 free-range egg whites

squeeze lemon juice

120g caster sugar

1 litre full-fat milk, preferably organic

2 tsp vanilla extract

(vanilla cream)

10 free-range egg yolks

80g caster sugar

ice cubes

For the meringues, whisk the egg whites and lemon juice in a clean bowl until it reaches soft peak stage. Add the sugar a third at a time, whisking after each third, until stiff peaks form.

Bring the milk and the vanilla extract to the boil in a large, shallow, lidded pan. Reduce the heat until the mixture is just simmering. Dip 2 tablespoons in hot water, and then make 8 quenelles (three sided shapes) of the meringue mixture, using the spoons to shape the meringue. Carefully lower each quenelle of meringue into the simmering milk. Cover the pan with the lid and poach for 7-10 minutes, turning the meringues over halfway. Remove the poached meringues from the pan using a slotted spoon and set aside to drain on a small tray until needed. Reserve the milk and keep hot.

For the vanilla cream, lightly whisk the egg yolks and caster sugar in a mixing bowl until smooth. Slowly add the hot milk to the egg yolks, whisking continuously, then return this to the pan and heat over a medium heat, stirring continuously with a wooden spoon until the custard is thick enough to coat the back of the spoon. Pour the custard into a large serving bowl over a bowl of ice to stop the custard cooking immediately and stir occasionally until it is fully cool. Once cooled, transfer to a serving bowl and float the poached meringues on top of the cooled custard and serve. Eat, safe in the knowledge that Escoffier would be proud of you.

Mexican soup and Toegate

Unsurprisingly, the 9 – 5 vegan thing just isn’t working out. I have zero resolve when there is something good for lunch at work and the alternative is salad leaves with tofu (no thanks). Also, I don’t know why but whenever there is a new person in the kitchen the standard of staff food goes up massively. Even more bizarrely in this case when the new staff member brings her own lunch in. I can only think that it is because deep down we’re all show offs. Still, any excuse for home made fish and chips, shepherd’s pie and pad thai works for me. I’m sorry to say that the weekends haven’t seen me eating much better either. Not least because we’ve had a few people to stay which has meant that on occasion far too much wine was consumed and I’ve put in some truly shocking displays at work. I’m embarrassed to say that on Friday night I drank so much wine, that on Monday morning I had no real recollection of what I had prepared on Saturday for Monday’s buffets. Thankfully, I had done a fairly reasonable job, even if my work list did look like it had been written out by a dyslexic ten year old in a dark room. This has meant that I’ve been indulging in some terrible habits such as pizza for breakfast, Lucozade (original, obviously) to get me through the day, and chips with everything. So, at the start of this week my body felt like not so much a temple, more an abandoned warehouse after a rave. Uncared for, empty inside and stinking of fags and lager. In an effort to aid my recovery, and to in some way make it up to my poor broken little body I have been hitting the salads HARD. And the vegetable soups. And the fruit. And the mint tea. And the large bottles of water. And the museli. And at last, I’m actually feeling pretty good again.

One of the soups I made which started as a ‘use up what I’ve got in the fridge’ soup, and turned into a ‘Mexican style use up what I’ve got in the fridge' soup was so delicious and restorative that I want to share it with you. But before I do, I would just like to let you all in on the perils of dozing off in the Jacuzzi. Obviously as part of my current regime, I’ve been hauling myself, sweating and frowning round the gym, and as a treat I have followed it all off with a twenty minute session in the Jacuzzi. Normally I’m with Diesel, and more often than not we’re on our own as luckily it’s not that busy. However today I was alone, and found myself after a few minutes nodding off a bit. This wouldn’t have been a problem had someone else not got in whilst I was dozing. However, I slowly woke up with the realisation that my toe was edging its way up someone’s shorts. ‘But Diesel is at work?’ I thought hazily. I opened my eyes wide at this point to see a middle aged guy looking at me quizzically.

‘Ohmygodi’msosorryimusthavedozedoffHAHAHAhowembarrasingohisthatthetimeimustdash’

I hope you can learn from my mistakes, almost as much as I hope never to bump into him again.

Enjoy the soup.

Mexican (style) chicken soup

Cooked chicken (about one breast between two is enough, or whatever you have left after a roast chicken)

Half a jar of passata/a tin of chopped tomatoes + an equal amount of water

1 cup of sweetcorn

1 vegetable stock cube (the Knor stock pots are the best thing after homemade)

1 white onion, finely chopped

1 chilli, finely chopped

Chipotle sauce

Fry the onion and chilli until soft and translucent (use a low heat so you get no colour). Add the passata/tin of tomatoes and the water, the stock cube and reduce to a simmer. Leave for about 15 minutes, then tear the chicken into the soup and add the sweetcorn. Cook for a further 15 minutes, and add chiopotle and salt and pepper to taste. You could add some small pasta shapes or some tinned haricot beans to beef it out, not that it really needs it. Great with a mashed advocado and a toasted pitta on the side.

Beetroot and Vegans

So, my new vegan friend at work has upped the stakes. Just as I was getting into the vegetable swing of things, on Monday she informed me that she’s going on a raw diet. So, no meat, no fish, no dairy, no eggs, and nothing cooked above 35 degrees. This obviously rules out any bread, any pulses, no hummus, no potatoes...no joke. If I was to try this diet, I think I’d be feeling a bit miserable by lunchtime, extremely snappy by mid afternoon, and simply unable to be around other people by 6pm. There wouldn’t be a day two. Although apparently she’s feeling much better for it and intends to carry it on (I’m not sure I’m totally convinced after I saw the way she was looking at my lemon tarts). So, there has been a lot of munching on raw carrots, raw celery, raw spinach, dehumidified fruit, ‘cashew nut cheese’(!), raw cauliflower (I’m not sure that cauliflower deserves an invite to the party unless it brings it’s sexy mate cheese sauce along, and I don’t mean cheese of the cashew nut variety – that’s not real cheese for goodness sake), and raw beetroot.

Speaking of which, beetroot and I are having a bit of a thing at the moment. As in, I just can’t get enough of it (just like I can’t get enough of ‘Church’ by The Two Bears – please, please, please You Tube it). I know that in salad’s beetroot is a total pain in the arse as it stains everything and makes everything else in the salad taste like beetroot, and I also know that your fingers, hands, chopping board, sideboards, tea towels, EVERYTHING can end up a ridiculous pink colour which is unfortunately a particularly persistent stain. However, give beetroot the opportunity to be the star of the show and it shines. For this reason, I’d like to give you three of the easiest and best things to do with beetroot. It’s a Thursday, go on, bring a bit of mid week pink into your life. Just don't forget the disposable gloves.

Sexy beetroot side salad

Cooked beetroot

Few drops of truffle oil

Good olive oil

Sherry vinegar

Chipotle Tabasco sauce

Maldon sea salt

Freshly ground black pepper

Slice beetroot, add a bit of everything else to taste, mix round a bit and eat. Couldn’t be easier! Eat with some Moroccan hummus and some hot pitta bread.

Roasted root vegetables

A carrot

A couple of beetroots

A parsnip

Peel and cut the above into chunks. Blanch (boil for a couple of minutes) all of the above, then drain, put into a roasting tin with some oil and salt and pepper and whole garlic cloves. Roast for 20 minutes or so. Sounds not very exciting, actually is very exciting to eat. Delicious with any roasted meats, esp. chicken, or even on its own.

Beetroot hummus

½ Tin of chick peas

Tablespoon tahini

Juice of one lemon

Garlic clove

Good olive oil

Sea salt

Fresh black pepper

Cooked beetroot (about three)

Blend everything except the oil, and then add the oil slowly until you get the perfect dipping consistency. Great with crudités and pitas.

The Never Ending Story (of the quest for the perfect ragu)

Yesterday, whilst making caponata in the kitchen at work, one of the chef’s turned to me and said,

‘you know what, whenever I cook Italian food, I feel happy. I just can’t help it,'

I’m not sure that I agree 100%. Throwing a pizza in the oven at 4pm after an epic hangover never feels particularly joyful to me, but I guess that isn’t really the sort of cooking he was talking about. I love eating Italian food, and I love cooking Italian food. Big flavours, lots of tomatoes, cheese, fresh vegetables, garlic, fresh seafood, cheese, carbohydrate induced comas (everybody know that post pizza/pasta binge feeling), cheese. It’s one of the most accessible cuisines I can think of, and I don’t know what I would do if I could never eat lasagne again. Speaking of which, this evening I made possibly the best lasagne in the world (yep, I actually just said that). 

Now, I am usually of the opinion that most things can be done better by professionals, I have never actually tried all of the lasagnes ever made, and most importantly, I have never been to Italy (it’s on the list), but you will just have to take my word for it. It. Was. Awesome. The pasta I used was good quality dried lasagne sheets (nothing wrong with dried pasta, fresh probably would have been better but give me a break, it’s a Sunday, and no matter what Jamie Oliver says about pasta being quick and easy to make, speaking from experience I can tell you that it is not). The béchamel was reasonably basic (although I did infuse my milk which is a step further than I normally go). But the ragu was most certainly the Michael to the béchamel and pasta other four Jackson five members (it’s a bit of a tenuous comparison, but I think you can work out what I’m trying to say).

This ragu was the pinnacle of about eight years of dedicated research (it’s a bloody good job that Diesel likes spaghetti bolognaise as much as I do) and many (mostly very good) attempts. There is so much more to a good ragu (bolognaise sauce if you're British) than Dolmeo and beef mince. I am strongly of the opinion that if you think it’s a good idea to make bolognaise with a jar of sauce and some cheap mince, you might as well give up before you open the door of the cupboard. What’s the point? For the money and the time, do yourself a favour and buy a hot baguette, some vignotte and an apple. My quest for the perfect ragu has turned into something of an obsession, and like I say, I think I’m just about there.

I’m not sure how many people will actually give this one a go, but if you do have a spare few hours, you could do a lot worse. Although before you reach for the pans, I should make you aware that you will never be able to enjoy anyone else’s bolognaise again. On the plus side, if you make a large batch, you can freeze it in portions, and you’ll have a few meals ready and waiting for you the next time you get back late from work/have people turn up for dinner when you’ve forgotten that you’ve invited them over. If you want a lasagne, you just have to make a béchamel sauce. If you want a sexy risotto, make a basic risotto and add the bolognaise. If you want a chilli, add a tin of kidney beans, a tin of baked beans and a good few glugs of Tabasco. If you want to be a total weirdo, eat it sandwiched between two slices of white bread like my brother.

Don't forget the parmesan!

Ragu

2 tins of good quality tomatoes

1 large white onion

2 sticks of celery

2 carrots

About 4 cloves of garlic

A few bay leaves

2 tablespoons of tomato puree

About half a bottle of drinkable red wine

Bacon lardons 500g

Best quality braising beef, cubed 500g. Ish.

Chicken livers 500g

3 or 4 pig cheeks (I make no apology for this. Go to the butchers)

Beef stock, about 500ml (one of those knor jellied stock things and some water is ok)

About 250g butter

Seasoning

Fresh flat leaf parsley

2 big tablespoons of tomato puree

1 teaspoon of sugar

Worcester sauce

Mushroom ketchup

Finely chop the carrot, onion and celery and grate the garlic into a heavy bottomed pan with about half the butter and a bit of olive oil, and soften really gently over avery low heat for about 45 minutes. Once ready, put to one side.

In a separate pan (preferably a casserole with a lid) fry off the lardons until crispy then take them out. In the same pan, fry off the beef and pig cheeks in the rendered out pork fat until nicely browned. This is where most people go wrong. It’s really important to actually brown the meat, so make sure the heat is right up. It’s the caramelisation that tastes good, which is why you always sear meats before cooking them (It’s nothing to do with sealing in the juices – nonsense). Put the lardons back in the pan with the beef and the cheeks, add the tomato puree and fry off for about a minute (lovely roasted tomato smells is what you’re looking for), then add your wine and the stock. Now, cover and stick in the oven at a low heat (about 120/gas 2) for about 5 hours. When you take it out, the meat should literally fall apart, so when it is cooled enough for you to do so, go through with your fingers and pull the meat apart so there are no lumps of meat left.

Trim the chicken livers, and fry in a hot pan with the rest of the butter until nicely browned (don’t overcook, you want them still pink in the middle). Tip the whole lot into a blender, blend, and then pass through a sieve. It should be a nice light pink colour. 

Add the softened vegetables, the tins of tomatoes, seasoning, the liver puree, the bay leaves, a teaspoon of sugar, a splash of Worcester sauce and some mushroom ketchup if you have it, to the meat. Cover, and return to the oven for another couple of hours. If it starts to look dry, add some water. Drink a few glasses of red and eat with other people so you can show off. Good times.

A time for change

A good friend of mine once said to me, ‘Amy, you are the only person I know who looks better with no clothes on’. I am certain that there was nothing sapphic behind this comment, although, on reflection it might have been a kind way of saying that she thought I dressed badly. Either way, it was one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me. Now however, I most certainly do not (look better without any clothes on). Having had an amazing week on holiday, working every hour of the day (and as a result eating anything and anything I can at strange times of the day) and getting into the full swing of BBQ season, it is fair to say that I could seriously do with getting back on the salads.

As it happens, a girl has just started working in the kitchen who will be with us for the summer, has just graduated from Durham (Hatfield college, shame – Durham based joke, apologies everyone else), and is a vegan. Yep, a vegan. No meat, no fish, no dairy, no eggs.....no fun (as far as my opinion currently stands), and she wants to be a chef (!) It does however make it very easy to be generous in the kitchen (it's easy to sneak someone a bit of cucumber without arousing any jealousy). This morning I offered her some pieces of carrot that I had left over from a tagine I was preparing, and her eyes lit up, the way I imagine mine would have done if someone had offered me a piece of fillet steak. I passed some hilarious comment about it being like working next to a  rabbit (nice work Wiseman) and she said that is one of the nicer things people usually say to her. One of the not so nice is that everyone assumes that she is a lesbian. I take this to mean that she is not, although she does have a nose piercing...Anyway, in an effort to make her life a bit easier, and in the vain hope of one again recieving the comment about looking better naked, I’m considering eating with her at lunch (a ‘nine to five vegan’ if you will). I’m not sure how everyone else will take this (if you mention either of the V words to most chefs, you’re lucky if you don’t get a filthy look and a punch in the mouth), but it will certainly be an eye opener because I’ve always wondered what on earth vegans actually eat on a daily basis - after salad and baked potatoes with baked beans, I’m at a bit of a loss.

 

In other exciting news, I think we’re going to spend a week in the south of France in September. I’m so excited about it, I think tonight I’ll be dreaming of foie gras and boules. Bon nuit!