Two simple summer salads

Summer is just around the corner. With warmer days and longer light evenings, bringing out the BBQ and indulging in some outdoor action is feeling more like reality than the distant dream of a few weeks ago. We’ve got to that time of year when simple, fresh flavours replace the slow-cooked comfort food of winter, colour reappears on our plates and cooking is as much of an assembly job as hours of pouring over a hot stove. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll still be baking my favourite breads and treats, but my main meals will become a lighter, more summery affair. Something we could probably all do with after a chocolate-laced Easter and two boozy British bank holiday weekends.

In the spirit of some simple summer joy (with a potential to BBQ), I bought a couple of beautiful sirloin steaks for our supper. Unsure what to serve them with, I went for a nosey round the Union Market on my way home from Fulham Broadway. If you live locally and haven’t been, this place is well worth a look. Located in the old tube station, it houses a wide selection of food counters (bread from The Flour Station, cheese from Neal’s Yard, fresh fish, British meat, seasonal veg etc) as well as a small restaurant, coffee shop and a wine store. The idea is to provide local residents with all the theatre and authenticity of a farmers market with the reliability and convenience of a supermarket (it’s open til 9pm on weeknights). In comparison to the plastic-packed shelves of the local supermarkets, it’s a breath of fresh air to be able to try before you buy, to have your meat weighed and sliced in front of you and to pick your own veg into brown paper bags.

I came away with a muddy bulb of fennel, a box of fresh rocket, a bunch of radishes and a beautiful purple aubergine; colourful, fragrant, robust ingredients perfect for some textured summery salads. I made two; thick strips of the firm, glossy aubergine grilled and tossed with simple, punchy flavours for a more meaty option and chopped fennel, radishes, avocado and rocket as a lighter second. Two delicious summery salads which work well on their own as well as being a great accompaniment for rare barbequed sirloin steak, chicken or meaty fish.

I may have mopped it all up with freshly baked crusty bread. With a brownie for pudding. Old habits die hard, even in the face of a beautiful summer.

Chargrilled aubergine with garlic, chilli and capers
Serves 2

2-3 red birdseye chillis, chopped (I included seeds but if you’re less of a chilli fiend I’d leave them out)
1 clove of garlic, sliced
A handful salted capers, rinsed well
A generous lug of olive oil
1 large/2 medium aubergines

*Quick note: I’ve found the trick to perfect aubergines is grilling them without any oil, then marinading in infused oil afterwards. This results in smoky, firm flesh rather than the flabby, slug-like consistency of over-oiled aubergines which tend to leach up any surrounding liquid as they cook. If you’re not using the BBQ then get a really hot ridged grill pan – it’s important you get those beautiful black lines for both flavour and appearance*

Put the chilli, garlic and capers in a small bowl and cover with the oil. Leave to infuse.

In the meantime, slice the aubergine thickly. Get your BBQ or grill pan nice and hot – it should be smoking – then lay the aubergine slices flat across the ridges. You may need to cook in batches. Cook until you have thick black grill marks on both sides.

Remove the aubergine slices to a serving dish. Pour over the garlic, chilli and caper oil and mix thoroughly. Best served at room temperature after 30 mins or so of infusing. This would also be delicious with torn mint leaves and feta, finely chopped parsley and coriander, or with a creamy tahini and yoghurt dressing.

Radish, fennel and avocado salad
Serves 2

This is so simple it’s hardly a recipe at all. The perfect summer crunch.

A handful of radishes, around 10
1 bulb fennel
1 small avocado
1 small baby gem lettuce
A handful of rocket
2 tbsp olive oil
1 tbsp balsamic vinegar
1/2 tsp mustard powder
Salt and pepper to season

Thinly slice the radishes and fennel into a large bowl, removing any tough outer bits. Peel and roughly dice the avocado into chunks and add. Tear the baby gem into the salad along with a good handful of rocket.

Mix the olive oil, balsamic, mustard powder, salt and pepper in a small jam jar. Shake throughly then pour over the salad, stir and serve immediately.

4May2011

Honey-soaked carrot cake

moist_carrot_cake Watching an episode of River Cottage on TV the other day, I was momentarily transported by Hugh and his crew into the romantic rural idyll that is their world. A place where bread is always freshly baked, beautiful ripe fruit drips from the trees, butter is churned before the cow can even bat an eyelid, and spring lambs and rosie-cheeked children skip side-by-side across verdant pastures . . . A little far-fetched perhaps, but I think you get my drift. It’s a pretty far cry from the scraggy bush of rosemary cowering between two giant weeds that constitutes my little London garden anyway.

That’s not to say a girl can’t dream. Or indeed cook her way through a whole array of culinary highlights by way of some gorgeous recipe books (and let’s be honest, it’s mostly the food I’m after; stick me in a pair of muddy wellies in deepest Devon and I’d probably be howling for the bright lights and my local Waitrose after a shamefully short period of time). I’ve already sung the praises of The River Cottage Bread Handbook in a previous post, and River Cottage Every Day, a more recent purchase, is even better, packed with beautiful photos and gorgeous, simple recipes that really work first time.

This carrot cake is one of those recipes. We went to a leaving party this weekend for a friend who’s jetting off to a new job abroad and I wanted to bake a surprise cake to mark the occasion. After a bit of devious digging I discovered that carrot cake was the thing that would really hit the spot.

There’s a lot of hype around vegetables in cakes at the moment from the likes of low-fat champion Harry Eastwood (I’m yet to try one of her Petit Pois cupcakes but they look intriguing); the replacement of butter with nutritious vegetables adds moisture and reduces fat meaning you really can have your cake and eat it. However while our constant need to innovate means that courgette, beetroot and pumpkin have briefly replaced the humble carrot at the top of the pile, this recipe reminds you that the original sometimes is still simply the best.

The recipe below will serve at least twelve comfortably, more if you do as I did and stuff and smother it with a rich cream cheese frosting (totally unnecessary as Hugh points out but utterly indulgent and delicious). It’s light on spice so you could throw in a little cinammon if you like. I think it would also be wonderful with a handful of walnuts thrown in, or some syrupy sultanas if you’re feeling fruity.

Honey-soaked carrot cake with cream cheese frosting (from River Cottage Every Day)

Ingredients:

4 medium free range
150g caster sugar (use golden for a slightly caramel flavour)
150ml each rapeseed and sunflower oil (I used a mixture of ground nut and sunflower which worked perfectly)
350g carrots, peeled and finely grated
300g wholemeal self-raising flour
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp bicarbonate of soda
100g runny honey

Cream cheese frosting:

125g unsalted butter, softened
200g icing sugar, sieved
250g cream cheese
Finely grated zest of 2 limes

Method:

Preheat the oven to 180 degrees C. Grease and line a 23cm cake pan.

Put the eggs and sugar in a large mixing bowl and beat together with a hand held electric mixture for about 10 minutes, until pale, foamy and slightly thickened. Yes, your hand will feel like it’s going to fall off with all the vibrations, but the mixture does need this time to get nice and aerated. Add the oil and beat for a couple of minutes more.

Sift together the flour, salt and bicarbonate of soda into the mixture. Tip any bran left in the sieve into the mixture too. Fold in gently. Finally, fold in the grated carrot. Pour into the prepared tin and bake for 45-50 minutes or until a skewer inserted into the centre comes out clean.

Put the honey in a saucepan over a low heat and heat gently until the honey is liquid. Pierce the hot cake all over with a skewer then slowly pour on the hot honey so it soaks into the cake. Leave in the tin to cool completely before turning out.

As Hugh says in the book, this cake is completely lovely as it is – soft, syrupy and incredibly moist. However for all carrot cake traditionalists out there, smothering it in a tart cream cheese frosting is the ultimate indulgence. Simply sling the soft butter and icing sugar into a magimix and whizz til smooth and fluffy. Add the cream cheese and lime zest and whizz again until smooth. Once cold, slice the cake in half, stuff it with icing then sandwich the two halves together and smother with the remaining frosting. De-lish.

27Apr2011

Banana, chocolate & walnut loaf

Sticky, moist banana loaf

Over the last few days I’ve seen quite a few blog posts cropping up with recipes recommending what to do with leftover Easter chocolate. Rocky road, tiffin, brownies, rice crispy cakes, chocolate cake, chocolate sauce and more; these are all suitably worthy resting places for those sad little eggs and shells that didn’t quite make it into the Easter morning binge. But to be honest, I’ve never really had this issue of ‘egg-cess’ (sorry), having subscribed to more of an ‘all or nothing’ approach to anything sweet from a young age. Consuming my own body weight in chocolate before Easter breakfast has now become pretty much standard practice.

Having said that, yesterday a little bit of Easter egg chocolate did manage to sneak its way into the mixing bowl as I was making my favourite banana loaf recipe. I’d returned home after Easter to a pile of soft, slightly blackened bananas and needed a recipe to salvage them pretty quickly, This sticky, moist banana loaf was the perfect answer- in fact, it simply doesn’t taste the same if the bananas you use aren’t blackened, squidgy and sickly sweet. And the addition of a few nuggets of deliciously dark chocolate prevents the richness of the banana from becoming overpowering.

Banana, chocolate & walnut – the perfect combination

I mentioned a few weeks ago my discovery of a delicious banana, chocolate and walnut loaf recipe on Gourmet Traveller ‘s blog. I’ve made it a few times since, tweaking the ingredients here and there, and the result is always spot on – dense, moist and nutty inside, crusty and golden on the top, with a richly intense banana flavour and little hits of chocolate. This loaf is delicious as a dessert with natural Greek yoghurt or vanilla ice cream, the perfect tea-time snack served straight up, or an incredible indulgence toasted and smothered in butter. It’s really more of a cake than a loaf though, so arteries take heed if you do decide to go for this final option.

Banana, Chocolate and Walnut Loaf
(adapted from a Gourmet Traveller recipe)

4 large ripe bananas
100g unsalted butter, slightly soft
140g soft brown sugar
2 large free range eggs
50g walnuts, chopped
50g dark chocolate (70% cocoa minimum), chopped
150ml semi-skimmed milk
140g plain flour
140g wholemeal flour
1 tsp bicarbonate of soda
1 level tbsp demerara sugar

Preheat the oven to 160°C. Grease a 900g (2lb) loaf tin with butter and line the base with baking parchment.

Peel and roughly mash the bananas with a fork. In a separate large mixing bowl, whisk the butter and sugar together until pale and creamy. Crack in the eggs and whisk further to combine, then stir in the mashed banana, walnuts, chocolate and milk. Stir thoroughly to incorporate all the ingredients – the banana means there may be a few lumps.

Sift the flours and bicarbonate of soda into the bowl and gently fold into the wet mixture until just combined. The key here is to work carefully to preserve the lightness of the cake batter. Pour the batter into your prepared loaf tin and sprinkle with the demerara sugar.

Bake in the oven for 1 hour – you’ll know it’s done when a metal skewer inserted in the middle comes out mostly clean. If it’s still wet with batter, pop your loaf back in the oven for another 15 minutes, covering with foil if the top is browning too much. When cooked, remove from oven and leave to sit for 5 minutes before transferring the loaf out onto a wire ack to cool completely.

26Apr2011

Crab & chilli linguine

Crab & chilli linguine

Another Easter Bank holiday has flown by in a haze of sunshine, family and food. I’ve eaten homemade hot cross buns (toasted on my Granny’s AGA with wedges of salty butter), yellow-yolked Burford Browns, new season British asparagus drizzled with fruity olive oil, my Mum’s incredible homemade quiche, a beautiful free range roast cockerel from Seldom Seen Farm with knobbly pink fir apple potatoes, rich truffle torte . . . and of course the obligatory half ton of chocolate in its various egg-shaped disguises.

Combined with the sudden heatwave, this Easter feasting has left me craving something light and bright to eat. I need fresh flavours that deliver a punch of chilli, a kick of garlic and a palate cleansing wake-up call that will rouse my tastebuds from their chocolate-induced stupor.

Crab is one of my all-time favourite ingredients. I like the intensely fishy hit of brown meat in small doses, but it’s the white meat that brings a real smile to my face. Sweet, delicately flavoured and packed with protein, these melt-in-the-mouth flaky nuggets are best left to speak for themselves, paired with a select few delicate additions. This crab linguine is just that – light, bright and bursting with flavour; the perfect combination of sweetness and spice to take you into Spring.

And, if you find yourself reaching for the stash of chocolate eggs afterwards, you’re only human.

Garlic, chilli & olive oil – hard to beat

Crab linguine
Serves 2

175g linguine (I tend to use dried, although this dish is also delicious with fresh egg-rich pasta)
A good fruity olive oil
2 small red chillis, chopped (I use the seeds, but if you’re sensitive to spice you can scrape these out)
2 small garlic cloves, crushed
100g white crab meat (if I can’t get a fresh crab, I like the Seafood & Eat It range, see note below)
Salt & pepper
A handful of parsely, coarsely chopped
Half a lemon

Method:

Bring a large pan of water to the boil. Add the pasta with a pinch of salt and cook according to packet instructions. In the meantime, pour a generous lug of olive oil into a frying pan and add your crushed garlic and chilli. Fry for a minute or so to release the flavours, then add the white crab meat and remove from the heat. Drain the pasta and add to the crab mixture. Return to the heat and toss quickly to distribute the sauce. Season to taste with salt and pepper then add the chopped parsely at the last minute and divide between two plates. Squeeze lemon over the pasta and serve.

Seafood & Eat It is a family company based in Cornwall, set up by brothers Richard and Neville. Their mission is to bring the fresh taste of Great British crab to food lovers across the UK. Endorsed by the likes of Angela Hartnett, it’s a great local company to support, and if beautiful fresh crabs aren’t available to you locally, this is a seriously good alternative.

22Apr2011

Homemade Hot Cross Buns

When I started blogging as thelittleloaf a couple of months ago, one of the first people I asked for their honest opinion (Mum, Dad and Carniverous Boyfriend don’t count) was a friend who lives in Sydney. Launching yourself out there into the blogosphere is a pretty daunting prospect; I worried what people would think of my blog. Could I actually write? Would my recipes work? And, perhaps most importantly, would anyone care? I know that the immediacy of the internet means your audience could just as easily be in the next room as on the next continent, but perhaps subconsciously it felt safer to try my ideas out on someone who lives over 10,000 miles away.

As you might expect from a dedicated carb lover and little loaf, my first ever post was a malty wholemeal loaf. After lots of fun baking, uploading my photos and thinking of what to include in my post, I duly sent the link Down Under to see what my friend had to say. She wrote back to describe in laugh-out-loud detail (Jess, have you considered your own blog?), her own bread baking attempts and the often inedible results, asking if I wouldn’t mind sharing any tips I had. Hurrah! Her heartfelt and immediate response made me realise there might actually be a market, albeit a small one so far (Mum, Dad and CB, again I don’t think you count), for my amateur exploration into the world of bread, baking and other good things you can put in your mouth.

One particular baking challenge my friend mentioned in her email was hot cross buns. Apparently her most recent batch were renamed ‘hot cross biscuits’ by her husband on account of their texture. I’d never attempted to bake hot cross buns before, but I love eating them every Easter so I decided to do some research and find her the perfect recipe for these sweet, fruity buns.

My first port of call was the River Cottage Bread Handbook by Daniel Stevens. This is the book that tutored me towards my very first light, crusty crumb – a loaf I could actually be proud of. But although I absolutely trust Daniel’s step-by-step guidance, I wanted to see what other bakers were doing with this Easter classic, and had already got my eye on a couple of recipes on the Guardian website.

I’m yet to make a recipe by baker-extraordinaire Dan Lepard that hasn’t come out delicious, and I loved the look of his spiced stout buns, especially the idea of soaking the dried fruit in tea for an extra moist richness. I’d also bookmarked Felicity Cloake’s recipe as I’m an avid follower of her ‘How to cook perfect . . .’ series. She’d already done a lot of the legwork for me, incorporating tips from Dan Lepard, Nigella Lawson and another baking blog I love, Wild Yeast. Her ‘perfect’ hot cross bun photo also gave me a glimmer of hope for my own ‘first ever bun’ attempts – totally gorgeous but in a very homemade, rustic way. Last but not least, I had a quick peak at Signe Johansen’s recipe, a Scandinavian food blogger I’ve been following since I found her incredible chocolate chip cookie recipe. She had an awesome idea for an Easter loaf using the same mixture of ingredients, but I decided to forgo this til another occasion in favour of the traditional real deal bun.

So Jess (and all you other baking enthusiasts out there), for what it’s worth, here’s my recipe for the perfect hot cross bun. The photos above were taken from my first attempt, and next time I’ll be making my buns smaller and further apart (the photos above suggest a bun on steroids – all subsequent modifications have been accommodated in my recipe below). I hope you enjoy making these as much as I did.

Hot cross buns
(make 12 regular or 16 small-ish buns)

100ml hot black tea
120g raisins, currants, sultanas & mixed peel of your choice
125ml water
125g milk
2 cloves
1 stick cinammon
Pinch saffron
Pinch grated nutmeg
250g plain white flour
250g strong white flour
5g instant powdered yeast
10g salt
50g golden caster sugar
1 large free range egg, beaten
50g butter, chilled
Finely grated zest of half an orange

For the crosses:

50g plain white flour
1tsp sunflower oil
80ml water

To finish & glaze:

1tbsp apricot (or other) jam
1 tbsp boiling water

Method:

The night before you want to make your buns, soak the dried fruit in the hot black tea. This will give the fruit a dark, unctuous quality.

The next day, strain the dried fruit and set aside. Heat the water, milk, cloves, cinammon, saffron and nutmeg in a small pan til just boiling, then remove from the heat and leave to cool slightly and infuse. In a large bowl mix together the flours, yeast, salt and sugar. Grate the chilled butter into the bowl and rub it into the flour mixture with your fingertips until well mixed. Add the warm milk mixture, dried fruit, sugar, egg and orange zest, and mix to form a soft, sticky dough, then knead for around 10 minutes until soft, silky and elastic.

*n.b. Most of the recipes I looked at suggested doing this step in a food mixer if possible, as the dough is very wet and sticky. I don’t have one, so decided to get stuck in and knead by hand. At first I thought I must have made a massive error as I grappled with a sticky, slimy-looking, unresponsive gloop. But I promise, persevere with your kneading for a few minutes, don’t be tempted to drown it in extra flour, and it will turn into a lovely soft dough*

Lightly grease a clean bowl and put the dough into it. Cover with a tea towel and leave in a warm place to rise . This will take 1-2 hours depending on where you leave it. Once the dough has doubled in size, tip it out of the bowl and knead for a minute or so, then divide into 12 even sized pieces and roll into bun shapes.

Put the buns on a floured baking sheet, run a sharp knife over the top to form crosses, then cover with the same tea towel and leave to prove until doubled in size – around 30 mins to an hour.

Preheat the oven to 200 degrees C. To make the crosses, whisk together the flour, water and oil til smooth, then spoon into a greaseproof piping bag and snip a tiny hole in the end. Pipe thin crosses across the buns. My piping bag split and I ended up having to do this by hand with a teaspoon, hence the slightly rustic crosses in the pictures above, but although they don’t look perfect, I quite like the rough-around-the-edges homemade look. Pop the buns in the oven and bake for 15-20 mins until golden and delicious.

A couple of minutes before the buns are ready, mix the boiling water and apricot jam in a small bowl. Remove your hot cross buns from the oven and brush with the syrupy glaze. Transfer to a wire rack and leave to cool. Enjoy toasted with wedges of slightly salty butter or, for my ultimate hot cross bun indulgence, eat cold with thick cream and strawberry jam.

21Apr2011

Rocket & Basil Pesto

Artichoke ravioli with homemade pesto

You might wonder why I’m posting a recipe for pesto. Pesto is something that appears on menus and food packaging around the world. Over-used and under-appreciated, there’s most likely a sweaty jar of mass produced pesto lurking in most people’s deepest cupboard space (am I right?). As a student it certainly formed an essential part of our storecupboard staple of pasta, pesto and frozen peas (the 3 P’s), possibly washed down with a pint (make that 4 . . . P’s, not pints that is). The ‘middle class ketchup’ phenomenon . . .

So why a recipe? Because this much maligned sauce doesn’t deserve these bogus impersonators; mean little jars of processed cashews, sunflower oil, preservatives and stabilisers. Pesto should be eaten fresh. It should sing with the rich green notes of freshly torn basil, toasted nuts and salty cheese. Yes, the ingredients can be expensive, but, as with good quality meat and other little luxuries in life, I’d suggest quality over quantity. Instead of plonking pesto onto every baguette, salad, sandwich and snack in sight, savour it, allowing the flavours to shine through.

This recipe is so simple, it’s hardly a recipe at all. Almost as quick and easy as opening a jar of pesto, but infinitely nicer, once you’ve tried it, I’m pretty positive you won’t look back. My recipe mixes rocket and basil for a really light, fresh flavour, and I’ve included few ingredient variations below for the budget conscious or more adventurous amongst you. If you have any other favourite or interesting pesto recipes, I’d love you to share them below.

Rocket & Basil Pesto (makes 1 jar)

2 tbsp pine nuts
Pinch of salt
1/2 clove garlic, crushed
150g rocket
100g freshly picked basil leaves
50g Parmesan, grated
300ml extra virgin olive oil

Dry fry the pine nuts in pan until lightly toasted and golden. Pound in a pestle and mortar with salt and crushed garlic. Add the rocket and basil leaves, continuing to mash until it becomes a thick green paste (you could do this in a food processor, althoug purists would argue against this, preferring the subtler flavours of the bruised ingredients). Add the grated cheese and most of the olive oil until fully blended, reserving a little oil for the top. Transfer to a jar, cover with remaining oil and keep in the fridge for up to one week.

Serve simply with al dente linguine, Ligurian style with trofie pasta, potatoes and green beans, as I’ve done above with ravioli or spoon over chicken or white fish. Delicious.

Some tasty pesto variations:

Basil & pine nut – the classic
Coriander & cashew – omit the cheese and try a little chilli for more of an Eastern feel
Watercress & walnut – earthy and rich, perfect in winter

19Apr2011

Chocolate & Dulce de Leche Brownies

If you’ve read many of my previous posts on this blog, you’ll know that I love chocolate and I love baking. It’s been a while since I last made brownies, and a pre-Easter dinner party at a friend’s flat this week seemed like the perfect excuse to try a new recipe. I’ve been reading David Lebowitz‘s gorgeous blog for a while now, and amongst a number of delicious looking recipes, I’d bookmarked these amazing looking Dulce de Leche brownies.

If you’ve not tried Dulce de Leche before, now is your moment. Literally ‘milk sweetness’ or ‘milk candy’, it’s an unctuously thick caramel-like sauce made from sweetened condensed milk, and one of the most delicious things you’re ever likely to put in your mouth. Continue reading →

13Apr2011

The perfect chocolate chunk cookie

The perfect chocolate chunk cookie?

If I had a pound for every blog post out there talking about the quest for the perfect chocolate chip cookie, I would be a very rich girl. Whether it’s UK bloggers lamenting the lack of good recipes using metric measurements, or US bloggers vying for the ultimate ‘just like Mom used to make’ recipe, chocolate chip cookie chat is definitely a hot topic on the baking agenda of the blogosphere.

And not without good reason. There’s nothing better than sinking your teeth into thick, chewy American style cookie, soft in the middle, crispy and buttery round the edges and studded with bittersweet chocolate chunks. We’re not talking ‘dip in your tea and nibble appreciatively’ British style biscuit here, this is a full on super-sweet indulgence best enjoyed with a complete lack of guilt and a giant glass of cold milk.

Balls of delicious cookie dough

I recently made a batch of crispy chewy oatmeal and raisin cookies. Oaty, nutty and possibly slightly too worthy, they got me thinking about other cookie recipes to try, and I began my search for the ultimate chocolate chunk cookie recipe (note chunk, not chip – I think coarse chunks of chopped dark chocolate deliver a far superior cookie to their oversweet, manufactured cousin the chip).

After trawling my favourite foodie sites, I was delighted to find that a fellow blogger had already done most of the legwork for me. I arrived at Signe Johansen’s blog Scandilicious through Google search and will definitely be returning to read her simple, beautiful compilation of recipes and foodie thoughts. Signe’s ‘quest for the perfect chocolate chip cookie’ took her on a journey through baking books and tweets, allowing her to incorporate tips from various seasoned bakers while weeding out any strange or over-the-top suggestions. The result is the recipe below, which I knew I had to try as soon as I saw her pictures.

Chewy, crispy and not too sweet, with delicious chunks of dark chocolate, this one’s going straight to the top of my ultimate chocolate chunk cookie leader board. I think it’s going to be hard to top, but if you think you’ve got a better recipe I’d love to try it out so please get in touch!

Incredible giant chocolate chunk cookies (adapted from Signe Johansen’s blog)

Ingredients

300g plain white flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp sea salt
180g salted butter, melted
200g light brown muscovado sugar
100g golden caster sugar
1 large free range egg plus one large yolk
2 tsp vanilla extract
150g dark chocolate, 70% cocoa minimum, coarsely chopped

Method:

Preheat the oven to 160 C/ 325 F. Line two baking sheets with baking parchment and set aside.
Sieve together the flour, baking powder and sea salt.
Whisk together the melted butter together with both sugars, then add the large egg, extra yolk and vanilla to the mixture. Whisk again and then stir in the flour, beating the mixture for a few minutes to stretch the gluten strands.
Fold in the chocolate chips. The cookie dough should feel almost dry now, like a solid lump (Signe says she wishes she’d taken photo at this stage to illustrate, so I made sure I did!) – don’t let the chocolate chips cluster in just one part of the dough.

Opinion varies on whether to chill the dough before baking or just cook straight away. I was hungry and impatient, but it was a pretty large batch of dough so I divided the mixture in two, chilling half and spooning the other half onto the tray with an ice cream scoop (To note, ice cream scoop sized dough balls result in HUGE cookies!)

Bake for 15-18 minutes until the cookies are golden, the sides feel firm-ish to the touch but the centre is still quite soft. This is really important as you don’t want to overcook and lose that slight squidgy texture.

Cooling the cookies on the baking sheets helps keep their chewy consistency so I’d definitely recommend this.
Once cooled, remove from the tray and serve or store in an air tight container. Yum.

(I made the second batch of chilled dough into smaller cookies, about 2/3 of the size of the palm of my hand. The resulting cookie was chewier and crispier but I’m not sure if this was down to size difference or the fact that I’d chilled it. Not a very fair experiment but I’m not that fussed, both batches tasted incredible)

11Apr2011

Côte Restaurant, Parsons Green

Last night Carniverous Boyfriend and I were feeling really lazy. After a hardcore day’s shopping in Central London, we wanted the pick me up of a guaranteed good feed and bustling atmosphere without having to venture too far from home. After a few minutes debate we picked up the phone and booked a table at Côte.

When I was little, a margarita followed by a chocolate bombe at Pizza Express was the ultimate childhood treat. Then when Strada appeared on the scene, my tastes migrated over to their bigger, more authentic Italian pizzas and wider choice of main courses. However nowadays I find chains like these pretty hit and miss; some locations serve up fairly tasty food in nice surroundings while others really feel like they’re just going through the motions, serving out tired classics to disinterested punters.

Côte is the perfect antidote to these kind of chains (for the moment anyway. I guess with expansion and time it could go the way of others, but I really hope not). With its buzzy, informal dining rooms, simple take on French food and fairly modest prices, it offers the perfect neighbourhood brasserie experience. The food is never going to win any awards, but it’s good, dependable and enjoyable, and sometimes that’s exactly what you need.

After a pitstop at the Fulham Wine Rooms (separate review to follow. If you haven’t been, its a great place to try over 50 different wines by the glass, with the added novelty of dispensing your own tasters, although this way costs do add up), we headed down to Côte opposite Parsons Green tube. At 8pm the dining room was pretty full already, testament to its popularity amongst a local crowd.

We didn’t go for steak on this occasion, having had it t home the night before, but from previous experience you can’t go wrong with the various different cuts on offer; from the simple steak frites at £9.95 to the fillet at almost double that, the meat is tender, cooked as you ask and full of good flavour. Instead we went down a more fishy route opting for light, crispy cod goujons with chips and salmon fishcakes with spinach for our mains. The goujons were beautifully light – a miniature French take on fish and chips – and, although the fishcakes were a little on the dry side, the flaky salmon worked well with a creamy dill and wholegrain mustard sauce.

My starter of seared scallops with pea & mint puree, pea shoots and crispy lardons was the highlight for me. This combination of salty crunch and creamy flesh is something you see on a lot of menus, but only because it works so well, and Côte definitely got it right. Carniverous boyfriend’s rillettes of duck and pork with toasted sourdough and cornichons were another simple take on a classic French dish, delivering big, satisfying flavours.

We finished with a huge tarte fine aux pommes and a rich chocolate fondant. If I really wanted to complain, the fondant could have been cooked a minute or so less to allow for an even more melting middle, but by the time I noticed I’d practically wolfed the whole thing anyway so sending it back was hardly an option.

Service throughout the meal was efficient and friendly. Wines by the glass arrived in time for the dishes we’d matched them to, something even higher end restaurants often get wrong by bringing too early, or forgetting to bring them until you’re half way through your dish. The dining room was cosy, buzzy and full of contented diners enjoying the simple, sound modern bistro cooking that Côte does so well. Next time you’re looking for an affordable local feed, I’d definitely recommend trying this neighbourhood gem.

31Mar2011

Ottolenghi’s Swiss Bircher Muesli

Inspired by the beautiful light mornings that have arrived with the clocks going forwards, I’ve been getting up early to go to Beautcamp Pilates before work. After such a virtuous start to the day I want to put something good into my body, but at the same time, the early morning workout means I’m pretty hungry by the time I get around to eating breakfast.

Bircher Muesli is the perfect solution. Invented by Swiss doctor Maximilien Bircher-Benner for his patients in the late nineteenth century, this is the perfect morning sustenance, and totally versatile depending on the fruits, nuts and seeds you have to hand that day. Dr. Bircher revolutionized the eating habits of his era by advocating fresh fruit, vegetables and nuts over meat, white bread and other refined produce, and I guarantee that when you try this recipe you’ll be overcome with a certain feeling of smug virtuosity.

The recipe here is adapted from a Yottam Ottolenghi recipe I found in The Guardian. I love Ottolenghi’s experimental yet unpretentious use of ingredients, and this recipe is no exception. A slight departure from my beloved breads and toasts, but incredibly delicious nonetheless.

Swiss Bircher Muesli (adapted from Ottolenghi’s recipe)
Serves 2

100g rolled oats or oat mixture (I used Rude Health’s 5 grain mix, Morning Glory)
120ml cold milk
40ml cloudy apple juice
80g natural yoghurt
1/2 an apple (Braeburn or Granny Smith)
20g honey or maple syrup
Juice of 1/2 a lime
Dash vanilla essence
30g chopped walnuts or pistachios
30g raisins
Dried cranberries & pistachios to decorate

Pour the oats into a bowl and cover with milk and apple juice. Leave to rest in the fridge for at least 10 minutes (I do it just before I go to bed so that by morning the oats have absorbed all the liquid to become soft and delicious).

When ready to serve grate in the apple, and stir in the yoghurt, honey or maple syrup, lime juice, vanilla essence, fruit and nuts. Stir, transfer to serving bowls and scatter with additional toppings.

This is such an adaptable recipe. It would be delicious with banana, pomegranate, fresh berries, stewed peaches, plums or rhubarb, different nuts and seeds or even chocolate and a splash of alcohol for the ultimate indulgence. After all, you can’t be virtuous all the time.