Silvana Franco's Patatas Bravas

I think I should have been born Spanish.  Tapas definitely appeals to my inability to make a decision.  I hate going to a restaurant where I want to try just about everything on the menu and have to commit to one dish per course.  If I luck out on what I choose, then fantastic.  But if I pick something and it's below the par of my expectation then I spend the rest of the evening (or if you ask my husband, the rest of the week) mithering on about how I wish I'd chosen something else.  Give me a restaurant where you have three choices per course and only one of those is chicken or vegetarian and I'm happy.

I did manage to save a bit for a picture

On the other hand, I love tapas. Because you can order lots of little portions of different things without feeling terribly greedy and if I don't like one thing, there's always something else I'll like.  Plus I can order something I'm not quite so sure about and if I like it, then happy days; if I don't then I can just compensate myself with an extra spoonful of something else.

When we first moved to the sticks, there were only Chinese or Indian restaurants in town.  Italian was limited to Pizza Express - and at a push you could just about say that Pizza Hut was the alternative.  Or fish and chips (which Buckles do very well thank you).  Anything else and you had to travel.  We now have a lovely tapas restaurant, which I'm dying to try.  But I just know it's not the husband's type of place and being a full time working mother, there's just been no time to cultivate relationships with other women* in order for me to suggest it as a venue.

So today, given that it was meant to be sunny and I had the house to myself for a whole hour and a half (the child was having her nap, the husband was out) I decided to make myself patatas bravas to go with the six grain loaf** I'd knocked up earlier.

The recipe was simple enough - a bit of chopping; pop the stuff in the pan; wait impatiently for it to cook; get disturbed by husband coming home early; don't eat as planned due to domestic issues; stand in the kitchen later on eating cold patatas bravas straight from the pan and consequently feel sick from overeating.

Really really liked it and it's a great way to use up leftover new potatoes.  We rarely use them and I normally end up letting half the bag go rotten.  So now, I will be really good and use them up making patatas bravas instead.  The only thing missing was the sunshine and a glass of chilled white or Rijoa.  There's always a next time.

You can find the recipe here.

*I do know other mothers but most of them either make me feel totally inadequate for working full time or just make me want to stab myself in the eyeball with a fork with their competitive mothering antics.  And if any of them read this blog, I'm sure they'll dislike me even more!
**Flour purchased from Wessex Mill.  First time I've made a brown loaf that the husband has liked.  Result!

Dan Lepard's Zopako

Early yesterday morning, I had a yearn for freshly made bread and was delighted to see Dan Lepard tweet his recipe for Zopako - a Basque Soup Bread - and Castilian Garlic and Bread Soup.  Perfect.  Despite the fact that my fridge was rammed solid with things purchased for other recipes, this seemed like just the ticket for today.

It has to be about the simplest loaf recipe ever.  Chuck everything in a bowl, give it a quick knead (10 seconds), leave overnight, shape, rise and bake.  Job done.  Lovely and crusty rustic loaf with minimal effort.

I duly made the dough last night.  It only requires a 1/4 tsp of fast action yeast for the rise as you leave it out overnight.  This morning it had doubled in size nicely.  I shaped it as instructed.  Did the rising part.  Popped it in the oven.  It all seemed to be going too well.  Within two minutes, I could smell freshly baking bread.  I thought that was a bit odd given that it had literally only been two minutes.  But never thought to go and investigate.  As a rather seasoned - if not good - baker, I know that you don't check things until they're at least halfway through their baking time otherwise you can expect disaster.

Toasted loaf!

The instructions were to bake for 20 mins at 220c and then reduce the temperature for the last 15 minutes.  But still that baking smell pervaded the air.  At around fifteen minutes, it started to have a 'burnt toast' kind of smell.  But I resisted for another four minutes.  Which was when I realised that having made toast for Miss A, I'd upped the temperature for the bread bake but had forgotten to switch from grill to oven mode.  So I'd literally grilled my loaf.  And the burnt smell was the flour dusted on the top singeing.  Oops.

Slightly panicked, I removed it from the oven, setting off the smoke detectors whilst I did it (and rousing a less than amused husband from his slumber at 9am).  Because we live in a modern townhouse, the smoke detectors are linked so if one goes, all three (one on each floor) go in unison.  Of course, that set Miss A crying and the dogs howling.  I'm now about another fifty places down the husband's scale of things he likes (my last ranking was #483).

The loaf was left to cool while Miss A and I escaped for our regular swim, and babyccino with Sainsbury's Cheese Scone (see Sconegate).  I assumed that when I returned, I'd end up chucking it away.  But actually, it's turned out to be a really nice loaf with a beautiful crumb and the slightly charred crust only lends to the rustic flavour.  I think I was saved by the tray of boiling water used to help create a steamy atmosphere in the oven.

Will definitely be making again as it's so very easy (if you remember to set your oven correctly) and I want to have a go at making the garlic soup one day - when I won't be in polite company.  I the bread it for lunch with the 'soup' I made from last night's leftover sauce and the hubby and Miss A had ploughmans.  I'm now planning to have it for tea too, alongside some more of the lovely Three Tomato Salad that I made on Friday.  All I need now is some early evening sunshine and a bottle of Chablis and I could pretend I was somewhere a little more exotic than North Wiltshire.

Recipe can be found here.

Chorizo Pasta

The husband has just asked me why I want to bother to stay up this evening baking pirate cupcakes to take to one of my oldest friends.  He suggested that I just hit the sack early and 'buy some in Sainsburys like everyone else'.

*Sigh*

He really doesn't appreciate food.  He's definitely eating to live rather than living to eat.  I'm the other way round.  Which is why, after being awake since 3am, running at 5am, getting to work at 7am, having a pretty stressful day, coming home to make tea for Abigail (scampi, peas and pasta), playing with her and sorting out bedtime, I then found myself cooking two more different dinners - which, lets face it is a frequent occurrence in our house.

See tonight I'd planned to have a go at Carbonara.  Yet something else I've never made.  I thought the husband would go for that as he likes spaghetti, cheese and bacon and I offered him garlic bread with it which would ordinarily seal the deal.  But he just looked at me sceptically and said 'Have I had that before?" Yes, in a restaurant, many a time.  "Can I have something else instead?'  Do I have one toddler, or two?

Red pasta in red bowl = bad presentation

So despite me being absolutely shattered, he got sausages, egg and bacon and because I didn't have to please him, I made Rachel Allen's fab chorizo pasta.  Thank you to Ocado for delivering me Unearthed Mini Cooking Chorizos and all the other bits and bobs my fridge was devoid of shortly before the critical dinner decisions were made.  I shall be noshing on the rest of those divine little sausies, simply baked with some home made bread on Sunday.

Made a couple of changes to the recipe.  Used chilli oil instead of dried chillies, didn't add rosemary as I didn't have any and used Garden Gourmet parsley as I'm tired of those 'Growing Herbs' dying on me before the week's out.  I also served it with spaghetti instead of the recommended rigatoni - but pasta is pasta is pasta some days in my book.  In truth, it's probably easier to serve with spaghetti for one portion - I'd probably use pasta shapes if I was serving to more people.

In fact, this was so lovely and 'inoffensive' that I shall be making it for tea on Saturday for the hubby with a mix of chicken and chorizo.  Top marks.  Here's the recipe.

Chorizo and Butter Bean Stew

I'm supposed to be clearing out our fridge freezer in anticipation of our new one arriving on Friday, along with a new cooker as well. I'm just a little bit excited about the whole thing and am looking forward to having a grill, numbers on the oven dial that I can read, an oven light, a fridge with a light, door holders that haven't cracked, freezer drawers that haven't cracked... The list is endless.

The lovely Laura's stylish lookingstew

I've done a pretty good job of feeding the husband and child from the freezer and chucking out loads of stuff I've batch-cooked and they've turned their noses up at and the remains have been languishing in the freezer for too many months. But the fridge is still rather well-stocked.

So tonight, having cooked pasta for the fussy ones, I decided to treat myself to Chorizo and Butter Bean stew to use up some left over chorizo and yet another one of those fifteen million onions that just seem to be breeding in my fruit bowl.

I've pinched the recipe from my lovely cousin Laura aka the Bridestock Bride (check out her blog, she's having the wedding of the year in 2012 and I'm lucky enough to have an invite!!) and I must say it's rather good. Her intended made it for her the first time he cooked for her. Lucky girl!

I was a little worried that being red and spicy that the weather wasn't cold enough for such a filling, warming dish, but it was lovely and light and so very tasty, I had to stop myself from scoffing the second portion - which has been earmarked for my lunch tomorrow. In fact it was a-mazing. Just frying the Chorizo slowly conjured up warm, sunny Spanish streets instead of a dreary October in Chippenham. I accompanied mine with some couscous as I'm carb-loading for a run in the morning. Honest, I am.

It may not look pretty, but it tasted divine!

And in the spirit of pinching, I've also 'borrowed' Laura's fab Instagram of her finished dish as it' looks so much more appealing than mine - that'll teach me to go Android. Hers is the lovely, rustic looking picture at the top. Mine is the rather lame attempt at the bottom - however it's not just about how it looks, taste counts too!

Bring on the end of my contract (only another fifteen months to go) and a nice, shiny iPhone 5 for moi.