Best of the Blog - Chorizo and Butter Bean Stew

There was me thinking it would be easy giving up this blog.  But here I am, posting again.  If you've read some of the posts on here, you'll know that day #366 was on September 25th this year.  I promised a last ever post to answer some of the many questions I've been asked about the blog and wrote a penultimate post celebrating a year since starting the blog.

Perfect winter fodder

The Last Post is actually sat in my drafts folder.  Its publication was hampered by an issue with my phone meaning I couldn't get the pictures I wanted for the post off.  It was then further delayed by an unexpected email and even more delayed as I sit and gaze at my navel and ponder exactly when to start my new blog.

Tonight, one thing lead to another and I had to come up with an impromptu meal for me.  Whilst it's been great to have the liberation of being able to just eat cereal or cheese and crackers for tea, I'd planned on something warming tonight (my mum's cauliflower soup) and when that got cancelled, I had to scour the fridge for something else equally 'hug-in-a-bowlish'.

Step forward Mr Bridestock's Chorizo and Butter Bean stew.  It was one of my early makes on this blog and I came about the recipe because my lovely cousin who was partly the inspiration for this blog posted about it on her own blog.  The recipe has particular nostalgia for Laura as it's the first meal that David ever cooked for her.

A little bit of Bridestock

They also got hitched during the course of this blog at an amazing wedding festival where they had a tea tent rammed full of baked goodies - including a Neopolitan Bundt Cake which was another new recipe for me, but I never blogged about it.

I'd forgotten just how amazingly tasty this dish is and it's so simple.  It's definitely going to become a staple store cupboard tea for me throughout this winter.  You can find the recipe here on Laura's blog and my original post on it, complete with rubbish picture here.  The picture above is from when I made it again tonight.  Not much better, but Instagram definitely helped a bit!

Having cooked the recipe again, I decided that I could celebrate 'The Best of the 366 Recipe Challenge' by revisiting some recipes that I really enjoyed and cooking them all over again now the pressure to do different things is off.

So keep your eyes peeled.  The posts will be sporadic but just like with everything else in life - I'm a bit rubbish at letting go of something good!

The aforementioned Neopolitan bundt

A small selection of the cakes in the tea tent

One Year On - Chicken and Chorizo Pasta

Well it all began a year ago today and because I a) can't let go just yet and b) still feel guilty that I didn't manage a picture of the very first recipe I tried, I decided to make it again to bring my year full circle.  In fact, I've just realised that if I was to re-cook every recipe that I did over the last year on the same date for the next 12 months, I could avoid the cleaning until 2013.  Now there's a plan....

Actually, it's been quite refreshing today to not have to worry about finding the time to cook something new and photograph and write about it.  When the food plan for today got de-railed by the weather, it didn't matter that what I'd planned for tea was in jeopardy.  Nobody would've cared if I'd not made and blogged about the recipe other than me.

I kept pondering if anyone would care if I skipped a day throughout the last year.  I managed not to with some careful planning and creative thinking at times.  And I've been touched by the number of tweets and emails I've had from people asking if it's really all over.  Although 48,000 page views in just 366 days shows that people are reading the blog, the messages really mean something because it makes me know there are some people out there who actually take the time to read what I write and don't just click a link from Google and then wander off elsewhere when faced by the waffle.

I also spend a lot of time if people are more interested in what I've cooked or what I'm waffling/whining on about on any given day.  Today, the husband gave me perfect blog fodder - which I'll save for the next instalment of my blogging voyage.  I often get asked about if he minds me writing about him.  In truth he does, but he also knows that it's my way of working out my issues with him and laughing at stuff that would otherwise have me down at the doctors looking for narcotics.

366 days on, still need to work on presentation!

What surprised me most was yesterday when I said I'd completed the last of the 366 recipes and posts and there was no more blog and he looked me incredulously and said 'what never ever?  Aren't you going to at least do one a week or something?'  After his comment when I watched Julie and Julia the other day, I was floored that he was happy for me to continue in some way.

Whatever, thank you to everyone who has been with me on this journey.  From the tweets of support, to the bloggers who have let me try and blog about their recipes (in no particular order Sadia, Mike, the two Jules', Dan, Rachel, Fi, Cathryn, Paul and Jaim); Dan Lepard for being the nicest cookbook writer ever and for making my day and following me on Twitter; my Twitter 'Family' (Paul, Kate, Dicky and Maria), Sarah-Jane for letting me coerce her into starting Cake Club; Ewan for letting me join the Olympic Food Challenge; my gorgeous cousin Laura who inspired the blog in the first place; Miss A for keeping me in cracked eggs when it's been a baking day; my second-chief cake tester* who was the best mentor ever; and all other those poor souls who've taken one for the blog and had cake foisted on them (it's a tough job, but someone had to do it).  There's no way I could've made it without you all.

And the biggest thanks of all to my long-suffering husband.  Thank you for betting me that I wouldn't make it - I don't think there's anyone else on this planet that would have made me stick to this challenge so stubbornly as you did.  Thank you for attempting to eat some of the 366 recipes.  I don't thank you for your non-constructive feedback - saying 'I don't like it because I don't like it' is not particularly helpful!  Thank you for putting up with all the washing up - especially when the dishwasher broke right on top of Christmas.  Thank you for moving my cookbooks to the most prominent bookshelf in the house at the weekend and for not burning them as promised.  And thank you for giving me the opportunity to carry on experimenting and writing - even if it is less frequently than before.

So on to the recipe.  Well I enjoyed it just as much as I think I did a year ago when I first tried it.  This time I put creme fraiche in it which made it quite rich.  I also seemed to have masses of pasta - which wasn't bad because I'd not had a proper lunch today (Vanilla Coconut PowerBars do not a good lunch make) but if I make it again, I'd probably drop the pasta to 60g per head - especially as the husband insists on garlic bread with his.  And it definitely needs some green stuff on the side.  I couldn't be faffed to buy rocket which I won't use the rest of this week so salvaged the last tiny bit of my dying basil plant to perch on the top for the picture.

Here's the link to the original recipe which I also neglected to post a year ago.

*Miss A was obviously the first!

Mary Berry's Crab and Sweetcorn Soup

Next on the list of things-I-have-to-use-up-before-next-Tuesday-because-I'll-never cook-with-it-again was a tin of crab meat.  I bought it months ago with the intention of making Leith's Chilli Crab Noodles one night when I needed a store cupboard meal.  That was about eight months ago.  Obviously being tinned, it wasn't too much of a trauma and it didn't take up much space.  But it was sitting there looking too much like a spare can of tuna and it had to go before I decided I wanted a tuna jacket, only to find that all I had was crab meat.

I'd eaten crab a sum total of once before in my life.  That was 25 years ago and then it was only the tiniest morsel as I found it too 'sweet'.  We were on a family trip to Cancale in France - it's a haven of seafood that I'd love to visit now I'm older and would appreciate a plate of fresh-off-the-boat Fruits de Mer but back then all I wanted to do was crack open everyone's langoustines and was then resolutely horrified at the French lady who sat on the side of an oyster bed, picking them out, shucking them and knocking them back like she was doing tequila shots.  It seemed both gross (I was 10) and barbaric at the same time.

The crab dish wasn't at all planned for today.  I had every intention of making Cathryn's savoury strudel from this week's bake off but stuff happened at work and I ended up being dragged along to a free lunchtime Mexican fiesta.  They say there's no such thing as a free lunch.  When you have to walk a mile down hill and then back up it in four inch heels, you certainly pay the price.  But it was worth it to spend time out in the fresh air and laugh at the management team who - replete with fake 'taches - looked like the band from the Doritos ad.

So the soup was the antithesis to the excess of mass cooked, watery fajitas and slightly chewy mystery meat tacos from lunch time.  Storecupboard fodder and simple enough to make when you're also juggling cooking a steak and mushroom ciabatta and fish fingers with Peppa Pig spaghetti.  As I was making it for one I used a whole tin of crab meat so it was much thicker and bulkier than it would have been for two.  The flavours were good although I added some chilli to give it a little heat and that worked really well.

The recipe I used came from my trusty Mary Berry's Complete Cook Book (the original version) but you can find it through this Google Books link.

Hugh's Veal Stew

With only eight more days to go, I'm trying to work through all the things that I've bought during this year that have ended up languishing in the back of the cupboard or in the freezer that I know I'll never use again.  It's kind of a bit like Ready, Steady, Cook.  What can you make with veal, polenta, filo pastry, chickpea flour, black eyed beans, pinto beans, anchovies, tinned crab and a jar of pineapple and coconut curd?  I'm no Heston Blumenthal!

It's not Hugh's Stew, it's my stew!

So first up was the veal which I bought for the Olympic Food Challenge.  No idea what country it was for.  Bulgaria? Portugal?  Wherever it was, I was convinced I'd bought veal steaks and so had every intention of making Mary Berry's veal marsala.  That was until I got it out to defrost last night and realised that I actually had cubed veal which needed stewing.

Google kindly led me to Hugh's stew (with added anchovies - bonus) and I took the advantage of working from home today to make my own bread to go with it.  Normally, I don't get in before five, but I did a slow-rise loaf with just half the yeast - started off before my run at stupid o'clock this morning and popped it in to bake during my late lunch hour (3pm! - see working at home isn't fun at all).

Cracked on with the stew at 5pm and made two other different dinners as well.  I have achieved very little this year but at least next week I can go back to cooking two different dinners and eating toast myself.

Anyway, the stew was a pleasure to make.  I'm eschewed the faffy tomato stage - because I don't have a massive garden with a glut of fresh tomatoes - so I used passata instead.  I must admit I probably over-reduced the sauce so it was a little too thick for stew but the intense flavours were great, especially when mopped up with home made six-grain bread.

I doubt I'd make this again with veal due to the expense - but the sauce would go equally well with chicken pieces, so it may be landing in front of the husband and the child at dinner time very soon.

You can find Hugh's stew here.

BBC Good Food Paprika Pork

I bought some pork belly a few weeks back with the intention of cooking something from Bulgaria (or somewhere) for the Olympic Food Challenge.  It's been clogging up my freezer ever since as pork is something that is definitely not on the menu in our house*.  In fact, since I've known my husband, I've only cooked pork once - which was a rather yummy satay pork and apple dish for this challenge a couple of months ago.

With just a few days left of this self-imposed year of cooking something new, I knew I had to do something with that pork before it got left to languish in the freezer for a couple of years and then ended up in the bin as it was long past its freezer-life date.  Having thumbed relentlessly through my recipe books, there was nothing that was quick and easy for a work night so I took to good food where I found the paprika pork recipe.

This particularly appealed because my Grandma used to make a turkey-based dish just like this when I lived at home, served with tricolore pasta twists**.  It was during a particularly difficult period in my life when my mother had just 'abandoned' me in favour of her first husband.  My mother had never liked the dish and I swear that my gran used to make it whenever my mum was coming to visit just to spite her on my behalf.  My Grandma was an amazing woman and always saw both sides of every story, but in this case, she didn't approve of the husband and approved even less that my mum effectively picked her own happiness over her daughter and so I'm sure this was her secret way of making a point.

As the dish was cooking last night, all I could hear in my head was my mother going 'Oh no.  Not smoky turkey again, you know how I hated that'.  To make the dish authentic, I added red and green peppers which give it a little colour through the thick sauce and they're also great for bulking out the dish a bit if you're stretching it to feed a few extra mouths (or if you're just greedy like me).

Not one for my family - I didn't even bother to try convincing them to try it after the 'stinky winky sauce' of last night - but something I'll make again in the future, probably with chicken when it's just me and Miss A for tea and her palate's developed a little.

You can find the original recipe here.  I added the equivalent of two bell peppers to the dish if you were making it for four and fried them with the onions.


*Unless you count bacon and sausages
**So Nineties

BBC Good Food Hidden Vegetable Sauce

"I don't like that.  It's stinky winky!" came the plaintive voice from the dinner table.  I was in the kitchen photographing my own plateful and I knew at that moment that I'd failed.

I'm sure you've guessed from the title that I was trying to fool Miss A into eating vegetables.  It's one of those great bugbears of parenting.  The child who won't eat vegetables.  Thankfully, because I don't have the opportunity to hang round with many other mothers for more than a few minutes - apart from a minute or two's snatched conversation in the Ladies' with equally harrassed looking female colleagues who are also trying to juggle parenting and working - I've not had the misfortune of coming across one of those awfully smug mothers whose child eats every vegetable placed in front of it.

It smells quite nice, actually

Awful person that I am, I almost wept tears of joy when one day I spotted one of my neighbours returning with their child from McDonalds*.  Although deep down I know that Happy Meals are nothing like they were when I was young (I have only read about this in the papers), I was just a little bit smug that Abigail has never been inside the place.  And if I have anything to do with it, won't go in there until she's in her teens.

In fairness, my neighbour is a keen cook and on the rare occasions when we've spent time together, I've nodded sympathetically whilst she bemoaned her own child's adventurous palate.  It's so heartening to hear honesty from another mother.  Women of a certain age and background willing to admit that their child is far from perfect are as rare as hen's teeth.

The closest Miss A comes to eating vegetable is having a bit of lettuce in her mini fajitas.  It's been a trial over this past year to get her to eat meat.  I am proud to say that she no longer has fish fingers or pasta for tea every night and will eat chicken or steak or meatballs with aplomb.  But despite her eating fajitas, she'll religiously pick out every trace of onion and pepper.  It's also difficult to hide them as I make her mini wraps using a pastry cutter from a big tortilla.  They're barely big enough to hold a piece of chicken so the veg is really obvious.

Pretty colours

So tonight's experiment was to make this tomato-based sauce which is rammed solid with carrots, leeks,  peppers, onions and celery.  I thought it would be a good thing to do regularly as I usually end up with various leftovers of all of those rotting slowly in the bottom of my fridge.  In winter I'd throw them in soup but in summer they wilt until I end up feeding them to the dogs.

The sauce is really nice.  Its smell is reminiscent of my grandmother's minestrone and despite processing, it keeps a good texture.  The addition of balsamic gives it a little kick.  Sadly, Miss A didn't like it and although I didn't dare serve it to the husband, he took one sniff and agreed that it was 'stinky winky' and then asked what was in it in his own inimitable style.  The answer did nothing to persuade him it was worth trying.

But it freezes well so I have now stocked up on a great, healthy pasta sauce for me to eat all to myself.  And the grumpy pair can just have plain pasta with cheese.

You can find the original recipe here.

*I wonder what Mrs Sconegate would have to say about that?

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!

Olympic Food Challenge: Hoppin' John - Bermuda

Ask anyone what they know about Bermuda and they will tell you about one of two things.  The Triangle or shorts.  In honour of this post, I'm writing it whilst listening to Barry Manilow singing Bermuda Triangle.  Yes, it's in my iTunes collection.  Hell, if you've read any other posts on this blog, I've probably told you worse things about me than that I have Bazza's Greatest Hits.  It's all because I love Copacabana.

In fact, I could tell you something worse about my husband.  Some of you may know that we disagree about most things.  It drives me potty when we go out in the same car that he'll change whatever I'm listening to.  I started listening to Radio 5 Live because of him but this summer I've not been allowed to listen to it because he only likes listening to the football commentary and not the news.  He grew up in the eighties, and being a massive eighties fan, I like most of his CD collection - but he won't let me listen to them in the car.  When we went to Scotland in the summer, I swear he chose eight hours of music he knew I'd hate on purpose.  Anyhow, recently, I got into the car with him and pre-emptively switched from the CD and he actually changed it back.  Because the CD had Copacabana on it and apparently he loves it.

Maybe we'll be like the Ballad of Tom Jones, but rather than being saved by Tom, we'll eventually stop fighting like cat and dog and be saved by Bazza's Greatest Hits.

I digress. Bermuda.  I'm supposed to be talking about food and the Olympics.  Right.  Okay.  Well the first thing that surprised me was to find that one of the most popular dishes in Bermuda is fish and chips.  But not a fancy foreign version.  Good old English fish and chips.  I never realised that Bermuda is British territory.  Or that it was quite so far away from the Caribbean - I'd been expecting the cuisine to be more akin to West Indian food.  Every day is a school day.

So after discounting the majority of the dishes listed on Wikipedia, I settled on Hop n' John which is apparently the national dish.  Wikipedia states that it's a dish of rice and peas which I know is common in the West Indies - if you were to ask my half sister what's for tea, she'll tell you she's having 'rice and peas and ding' every day.  But like most simple 'ethnic' dishes, there were a zillion and one recipes for Hoppin' John out there.  Mostly with a creole bent.

In the end, I just made up my own recipe.  About the only thing all the recipes agree on is that you need white rice and black eyed beans.  Or peas.  But I believe the beans and peas to be the same thing.  Then you can add any of the following - red and/or green bell peppers, dried or fresh chilli, herbs (commonly coriander, parsley or thyme), onions - regular and/or spring, tomatoes, bacon, ham, sausage - frequently chorizo, chicken and so on.  I didn't come across a dish that specifically used seafood in it but you never know.  This is definitely my kind of dish and it's now my new favourite storecupboard tea.

Before I give you my version of the recipe, a little about the Olympics.  Despite sending eight competitors to London 2012 to contest in five different disciplines, Bermuda left empty-handed.  They have just one athlete competing in the Paralympics in the 100m, 200m and 400m.  I wish her the best of luck.

Recipe - Serves 4

• 1 medium onion, finely sliced
• 1 tbsp olive oil
• 4 rashers smoked back bacon, snipped into small pieces
• 75g chorizo, cubed
• 1 small red or green bell pepper, diced
• 2 stalks celery, diced
• 400g tin black eyed beans, drained
• 200ml fresh chicken stock
• Handful of fresh parsley or coriander, chopped
• 2 tomatoes, deseeded and diced
• 2 spring onions, finely sliced
• salt, freshly ground black pepper and garlic granules to season
• 300g basmati rice (dry weight), cooked according to package instructions

1. Heat the olive oil over a medium flame in a large frying pan.  Gently fry for 5-10 minutes until caramelised.  Remove from the pan and place to one side.
2. Fry the bacon and chorizo in the pan for 3 minutes until starting to colour.  Add the celery and pepper and cook for another two minutes.
3. Pour in the chicken stock and beans and cook for a further five minutes until the beans are tender. and the stock has mostly evaporated.  Return the onion to the pan and heat through.
4. Season to taste with the salt, pepper and garlic granules then stir through the parsley or coriander.
5. Divide the rice between four plates, top with the Hoppin' John and garnish with  the spring onion and tomatoes.

Olympic Food Challenge: Pap and Chakalaka - Lesotho

Landlocked entirely by South Africa, Lesotho (pop 2.06m) has sent five Olympians to London 2012.  Lesotho is one of those countries I've heard of and I knew it was in Africa, but thanks to both GCSE and A-Level Geography being all about Central Business Districts, population distributions, vegetation, and some geology, I couldn't have even guessed whereabouts it was on the continent.

I'm ashamed to say that when I was sitting GCSE Geography, the then seven-year-old @BridestockBride was able to pinpoint more countries on a map than I was.  And this all in spite of my second favourite book being my Readers Digest Atlas of the World (I was only interested in the bit at the front about the planets and volcanoes - also covered at GCSE/A-level).

Not long after I met the husband, one night in a drunken stupor, he decided to buy a map of the world for the hallway.  Unfortunately, having not sat any secondary school exams (he was a rebel and dropped out), he thought he was buying a 60cm wide map which he could frame.  It was actually sixty inches and has dominated the walls in our previous residences - and solved many World Cup related 'discussions' - until it got relegated to the loft so our immense caricature of London could have pride of place on the lounge walls.

But thanks to the joy that is Google, I was able to find out everything I ever wanted to know about Lesotho.  Originally I'd planned on making a banana souffle because I've still managed to avoid souffles this year but then I figured that it didn't seem very African, even though it's a very popular dish in Lesotho.  A little more research led me to Chakalaka and Pap which I just had to make because I fell in love with the names.

Chakalaka is a tomato-based stew and delightfully simple to make.  Just chop up carrots, tomatoes, a chilli, an onion and a red pepper.  Fry.  Job done.  Pap is just as simple.  It's actually plain polenta seasoned with salt and pepper.  And had a double benefit of further reducing the bag of polenta that's been lurking in my cupboard since I bought it to make cornbread for this blog some months back.

Interestingly, I got tweeted by Dan aka Mr @SoupTuesday (and co-author of the SoupTuesday blog) last night with a comment that he thought that these dishes were South African.  I was a little worried that I was about to be found out as @KasariW (aka Mrs Soup) is from SA but thankfully she concurred that the dish is common to both countries.  I've found this with many Eastern European dishes - and similar in the Caribbean.  There are dishes that are similar save for a slight tweak here and there.

Lesotho Flag

What I fell in love with in Turkey as borek are served in many other countries - Greece and Cyprus to name a couple.  But it can also go by the name of Spanokoptika in Greece when it's formed into one single pie and in Serbia, they have the same dish which, according to my Serbian friend Vukan is called Cheese Pie.  I'm sure it's really got an exotic Serbian name, but I'm happy to go with Cheese Pie.  It does what it says on the tin and his is the best I've ever tasted.  I'm a bit gutted I didn't get Serbia because I've been meaning to try his recipe for years.

Anyhow, this is a really simple, tasty combination that will get me out of a hole in the future when I'm left with a few random veggies in the fridge and the need to cook something for dinner.  I don't think I ever expected something with such a fab name to become a store cupboard staple.

You can find the recipe here.

Wahaca: Mollettes

Never let it be said that I don't like themes and patterns.  This week has mostly been about Stuff-on-Toast.  And today is no exception.  I guess it's a reflection of my current mood because I'm a) looking for something a bit comforting - toast being the cure to everything in my world in preference to a nice cup of tea - and b) because I'm feeling a little fragile healthwise and so I'm not up for big food.

Slightly over-zealous salsa application

Stuff-on-Toast started on Wednesday when I picked up some English muffins from Waitrose on my way home from seeing the Quack.  I'd intended to have them as a snack with Miss A but then quickly got swayed by Rachel Khoo's Stuff-on-Toast recipe - or to give it it's proper name "Tartines Sucrées et Salées".  Yesterday's tea was scrambled eggs and Tommy-K on muffins, washed down with a mouthful of my disasterous Pimms jelly.  Breakfast this morning after an hour of BodyCombat was peanut butter and banana on a toasted muffin and lunch has been the most recent encounter with Stuff-on-Toast in the guise of Mollettes.

I was torn about trying this recipe as it seemed to be quite similar in theme to Miers' Queso Fundido which is basically refried beans smothered in cheese and grilled.  It's probably the one bug bear I have with some recipe books where they're by the same chef.  You often get the same - or minor variations on - other recipes from their previous books.  Miers' Tortilla Soup appears in both Wahaca: Mexican Food at Home and Mexican Cooking Made Easy as do variations on Queso Fundido, Caesar Salad and Mexican Hot Chocolate (just a few off the top of my head).  I own two books by Gordon Ramsay where around 50% of the recipes appear in both books.  The original Hummingbird Bakery and Cake Days have a couple of crossover recipes too.  I appreciate that maybe it's my fault for buying more than one book by the same person.  


Anyhow, I was pleasantly surprised with this recipe.  It is a doddle and I was really tempted to make it with all storecupboard ingredients but did half and half, using Discovery refried beans in place of Miers' own recipe (which I really must get around to trying) but making the fresh tomato salsa myself - rather than using some shop-bought that I had in the fridge for using in sandwiches.


If one thing has changed in my cooking this past year it's that I'm more likely to have fresh herbs and tomatoes to hand.  This time last year, I probably hadn't bought a fresh tomato for about five years.  But today, I was able to root some from the back of the crisper, safe in the knowledge that the Ocado man will bring some more this evening.  As for the herbs, my staple is now to have a growing pot of coriander in the garden.  I really wanted to plant my own but I've never successfully grown herbs since we've had a male dog.  When he was a puppy, he took a fancy to chewing them.  I'll leave you to draw your own conclusions to what he does to them now.  I've tried growing them in a wall trough but they just died so now just pop a store-bought pot on my patio table instead.


Making the fresh salsa was a revelation.  Miers uses a combination of tomatoes, chilli, red onion, lime juice, sugar and salt.  I initially thought that the sugar would make it too sweet but it works brilliantly with the slightly salty cheese and beans and the taste combination of all the Stuff-on-Toast(ed muffin) together was amazing.  And despite the cheese and beans, the zingy salsa makes this perfect for a little summer snackage.


It actually comes from the breakfast section of the book.  Much as I love my post-workout peanut butter and banana munch when I've got the time to make it, I am so thinking of swapping it for this once in a while.  New favourite recipe.  Wahaca: Mexican Food at Home - highly recommended

Rachel Khoo's Tartines Sucrées et Salées

Or 'Sweet and Savoury Open-Faced Sandwiches' to give it it's very unsexy English name.  If we're being really pedantic here, it's actually 'Different Stuff on Toast'.  But it sounds so much nicer en Français.

Today's recipe choice comes from Rachel Khoo's Little Paris Kitchen which I accidentally bought earlier this week when the Book People were peddling their wares at work.  I picked it because for once I actually managed to get home in time to collect Miss A from nursery.  A very rare event these days.  And it was only because I had an unavoidable medical appointment just before the end of the nursery day.

I'm still trying to get my head around being the breadwinner of the family and reconciling that with being a mum too.  In my pre-baby head, the two things never went hand-in-hand.  I'd either have a career or a family.  Not both.  But life is rarely as planned.  I'm getting used to it as my skin has finally started to thicken against the barrage of outright criticism and snide comments from people who have no right to comment on my life and the thoughtless mouth-engaged-before-brain comments from some of my nearest and dearest.

Yes, that's butter, not cheese under the radishes!

The most cutting comments often come from the mouths of babes.  And Miss A has put me firmly in my place this week.  When she's angry with me she tells me 'I don't like Mummy any more' and that 'Mummy should go back to work in Bristol'.  When she's talking about her favourite people, she tells me that Emma is her 'Daytime Mummy' or her 'Other Mummy'.  As lovely as Emma is, she's only Miss A's nursery teacher from when she was in the baby room.  Miss A only spends two days a week at nursery - the rest of the time she's with the husband.  I'm now known as 'Real Mummy'.  It's nice she makes the distinction but it still makes me a tad jealous.

So of course, when I do spend time with her, I have this massive need to make up to her for the fact that I'm out trying to keep a roof over her head and keep her in stickers.  Normally, her after school snack is malt loaf or a gingerbread butterfly (all home made just in case Mrs Sconegate is still lurking - yes, I still can't let that go!) but today, I wanted to make something we could share together.

The tartines seemed ideal.  Basically, Khoo gives you a set of ideas of things to pop on toast.  Ordinarily we'd have jam or peanut butter and chocolate Philly but I love all of these different  ideas.  Toast is probably my favourite food ever.  I've mentioned previously that if I was stranded on a desert island, my luxury item would be a toaster (I forgot to say solar-powered last time).  So I was really excited to try some of the recipes out.  And the remains of Dan Lepard's Zopako from the weekend made the perfect base.

Miss A had chocolate Philly and sliced strawberries on hers (not in the book).  I plumped for Radish and Salted Butter; Feta and Nectarine (inspired by Khoo's Peaches and Brie of which I had neither in the fridge) and Strawberry and Creme Fraiche.  I knew the fruity ones would go down well but I was intrigued by the radish one as I've only recently started to eat radishes.  Except someone had other ideas and swiped it.

I was amused because I am still battling with Miss A over whether or not she'll eat veggies and had assumed if she picked anything, she'd go for the strawberry one.  Never mind.  She prodded her fingers into the thick layer of butter, spread some chocolate onto one end, ate a mouthful with a radish, added a strawberry, offered me a bite and then immediately snatched it away.  So I can only imagine how it tasted, but if she enjoyed it then I'm sure I would.

I'll definitely try out some of the other ideas - especially looking forward to Avocado and Grapefruit; and Chocolate and Olive Oil.  I guess it's all about getting out of a creativity rut and not just defaulting to jam or cheese when it's toast time.  I can see my diet going out of the window some time very soon with this book.

James Martin's Caramel Apple Brioche

This is something I've been wanting to make for a long time, but have shied away from because of the whopping calorie content.  But in a fit of pre-diet carb-loading, I decided it was now or never.  It was either this or Churros y Chocolat from Thomasina Miers Mexican Food Made Easy.  This only won because I'm still a bit of a wuss when it comes to deep-fat-frying without a deep-fat-fryer.

As with all James' recipes, this involves an awful lot of butter, and lots of sugar too.  But it has fruit in it, so I figured it counts as one of my five a day.  And I eschewed the dollop of softly whipped double cream in favour of a dollop of Greek yogurt, thus saving a few calories and also helping to cut through the tooth-rotting sweetness that is basically toffee apples on sweet French Toast.

Miss A had one triangle of toast with a smear of the toffee and a freshly sliced apple but managed to swipe a second bit of the bread and ram it in her mouth before I knew where it had gone.  I've tried her with French toast before but she's always turned her nose up at it.  I think the brioche version - sans toffee sauce - might make a good compromise in future.

The brioche I used was a pre-bought, ready sliced one which is pretty lazy of me, but it's a great way to use up the end of a left over loaf whether you make your own or not.  It's something I've done before on this blog (read the post here) and it was a bit of an epically long recipe so not something I do regularly - but worth it for the treat.  I do also want to try Dan Lepard's brioche recipe on day - and that takes two days of baking!


One cheat was to use Bonne Maman Dulche de Leche rather than making my own caramel sauce.  Purely because I had a half open jar in the fridge and didn't have any double cream to hand.


My finally change to the recipe was to not peel my apples and to use Pink Ladies, leaving the skin on to give a pretty contrast to all the brown of the toast and the toffee.  The picture doesn't really do it justice, but they did look quite decorative.  I really need to work on my food photography!


Serves 2

• 4 slices plain brioche, halved
• 1 egg, lightly beaten
• 2 Pink Lady Apples, cored and quartered
• 1/2 tsp vanilla bean extract
• 4 tsp soft brown sugar
• 50 ml milk
• 2 tbsp dulche de leche
• 40g butter

1. Mix the egg, milk, 2 tsp of sugar and vanilla together in a shallow bowl.
2. Heat half the butter in a frying pan.  Once foaming, dip the brioche pieces in the egg mixture and fry until lightly browned on both sides.  Put on a plate in the oven to keep warm.
3. Coat the apple in the rest of the sugar.  Put the remaining butter in the frying pan and turn the heat up.  Toss the apples in the butter until the sugar starts to caramelise.  Add in the toffee sauce and warm slightly then serve over the brioche, topped with some Greek yogurt, creme fraiche or whipped cream.

BBC Good Food Chicken Chow Mein

Chicken-based recipes are a recurring theme in our household.  It's about the only meat the husband will reliably eat.  And pretty much, if a new recipe contains chicken, he's open to trying it.  Hence my decision to do chicken two days in a row.

For some strange reason, he always used to order Chicken Chow Mein and Special Fried Rice from the Chinese.  Every time he did it, he'd complain that he had too much food (we never have 'sharing' Chinese) and eventually he braved a Chinese Chicken Curry and has never looked back.

One of my early thoughts for things to do on this blog was to have a go at 'Fake-away' (homemade versions of takeaway meals).  I had one hit with Singapore Noodles and on less successful attempt at Salt and Pepper Chicken.  Since then I've not tried anything else.  So this seemed an ideal crowd pleaser.

Low fat, low carb and simple

I found it under the Kids Cooking section of the BBC Good Food website and even though Miss A is too small to help prep and cook it, I'm hoping she might try it as it comes with noodles which she does like.

Due to holidays, this is another pre-authored blog so do check back for an update with a picture and a verdict.

Recipe can be found here

Updated: 5 July 2012 @ 20:26

It got eaten.  The hubby's complaint was that it was a lot of the same - which is true.  Because it's all mixed together and there's not much complexity to the flavour.  Which is odd.  Because that's how all the meals he enjoys normally are.  I think he had an issue with it being healthy and not having a huge pile of bread on the side - which is how he normally eats his food.

This was the first signal that the eight-week healthy eating plan is going to be more stressful than I'd first anticipated.  I'm not sure that he is really taking the health kick seriously....watch this space.

Real Spaghetti Bolognaise

Spag Bol is my absolute favourite meal in the world.  I honestly would eat it every day and, provided it was a good recipe, would never tire of it.

I've written before about having to twist my grandad's arm to get him to let my mum make it.  Eventually, we got to a point where he actually made it for the family.  He used to laugh at the recipe I wrote out for him because it included 'two squirts of garlic' in the ingredient list.  We used to use Gia Garlic Puree in a tube (in fact, I still use it sometimes) but because he wasn't a 'throw it all in the pot and see how it turns out' cook, he could never quite figure out how much two squirts was.  I think it's because he was an accountant and everything had to be perfectly counted in his world.

The husband is very much like him.  He used to make spag bol when I first met him.  Whereas I'm very much of the tweak-as-you-go school, he mechanicially made his recipe time after time with no variation.

Spag bol.  On a plate.  Sorted!

Of course, this caused me trouble because no two spag bols I produced ever tasted the same.  Even if I use all the same ingredients and am consistent with my quantities of mince, onions and tomatoes; the twiddly bits (Bovril cubes, Lea and Perrins, bacon, carrots, celery, mushrooms, wine, herbs) may or may not make an appearance - and in varying quantities each time.  For me, it always tasted somewhere between okay and amazing because I adore spag bol.  But the hubby couldn't deal with the variance.

When I started this blog, I wanted to find the ultimate spag bol recipe that I would promise to myself I'd never tweak.  But I've not been brave enough to make it for him again until now.  Miss A and I eat it sometimes but since I found a recipe for meatballs he loves (Waitrose meatballs with Rachel Allen's pasta sauce - homemade of course!), he refuses to eat spag bol.

Given that we're on holiday and I have decided that I will only be cooking one meal each night for the duration, he is going to have to eat up and shut up for once.  I may ask his opinion but sometimes his honesty is a little brutal (I've learned never to ask if my bum looks big in anything - you can read some of his critical feedback here).

I found this recipe by Googling for 'The Ultimate Spaghetti Bolognese'.  This comes straight from a real, genuine Italian chef who is unimpressed by various English variations on a classic dish.  I find that amusing because my understanding was that Italians don't really eat Spag Bol.  Instead, eating a similar meat ragu which comes with something other than spaghetti (can't remember exactly what).  But whatever, I have to give it a whirl if you'll pardon the pun.

Sorry for yet another pre-written blog post - don't worry, I will update them all soon!

In the meantime, if you want to try it yourself, you can find the recipe here.

Updated: 20th July 2012 @ 15:21

Well the verdict was 'It's just spag bol'.  It wasn't a bad spag bol.  For someone who loves spag bol as much as I do, it was very edible.  It just didn't set my world on fire, thus leaving me still bereft of the ultimate go-to spag bol recipe.

There will definitely be further research in this area in the future when I start my new blog and I'm not having to post every single day.  I know that a combination of beef and pork or veal mince is supposed to work very well so I have some options to try.

But I did achieve my ultimate goal of ensuring that all three family members ate the same thing at the same time with this recipe.  Job done.

Updated: Jo Pratt's Chunky Sausage and Tomato Pasta

The seven year itch begins today.  In an attempt to ward it off and remind us that we are a family, I'm enforcing a mutual dinner on everyone this evening.  If you've read other posts on this blog, you'll know I often cook three different dinners each night.  About the only time hubs and I eat the same thing is on a Sunday when we have Chicken Tikka and Naan (a winning combination of recipes discovered whilst writing this blog) or when he persuades me to let him have takeaway.

I said before we came on holiday that we'd eat as a family every night.  So far we've had two dinners, both of which have just been me and hubs due to Miss A having her daily pattern disrupted and being too fractious at dinnertime to sit and eat with the grown ups.  So tonight, we will all be trying this recipe.  I'd pre-written this post as a placeholder in case we had no internet.  We have a sketchy signal so I've taken the opportunity to update the pre-written blog and will hopefully post the verdict on Monday evening.  Unless of course hubs has secretly arranged to whisk me off somewhere fancy for dinner.  Like the North Berwick Fish Bar if I'm really lucky...

The recipe I'm planning on making can be found here

Updated 20th June 2012 @ 07:55

Quick update.  Everyone ate it and everyone loved it.  It actually didn't taste that much different to my normal recipe but it had a lot less sauce and I preferred it that way.  Normally my sauce is made from a mix of pre made tomato and basil pasta sauce, some pesto and tin of chopped tomatoes and some caramelised onions.

The only downside was that there wasn't much sausage.  I used half the pasta as I was only cooking for three and the four stated sausages which was about right for two adults.  If the lack of sausages in the stated meal for four is due to cost then I'd question the use of wine and fresh basil in the recipe at the expense of a filling meal.  But then I'm probably just greedy!  Definitely a make again for the family once the post holiday diet is over.

BBC Good Food (Beef) Stroganoff with Herby Pasta

There was a small flaw in my plan for tonight's recipe.  I forgot to defrost the beef and so it became Mushroom Stroganoff with herby pasta.  Not much to say about this one other than the sauce was really tasty; it worked really well with just mushrooms and I think it's even better with pasta than with rice (which is what my mum always used to serve stroganoff with).  If I'm honest, I welcomed the lack of meat too.

A good store cupboard meal.  You can find the recipe here.

And you can breathe a sigh of relief that for once, I'm not going to waffle.  Goodnight.

It tastes far better than I presented it!

BBC Spaghetti Pomodoro with Chilli Prawns

Do you believe in horoscopes?  I do and I don't.  The rational part of me wonders how the same set of rules can apply to one-twelfth of the population?  And can how different astrologers see different things in the same set of stars? The romantic part of me wants to believe in fate and destiny and that sometimes a higher power is in operation.

There's one particular astrologer whose monthly forecasts I read.  She gives these really long, comprehensive insights with each horoscope and sometimes they're so delightfully vague in over the length that she does indeed cater for pretty much anything happening to anyone in some veiled comment or another.  I tend to read them when I'm having a bit of a navel-gazing time in my life.  Introspective and uncertainty always drives me to look for someone else to give me the answer.

My other foible is that I tend to read them towards the end of the month so I can say 'Oh so that's why xyz happened' rather than at the start of the month when she'll say something that I interpret to mean I'm going to win the lottery when in fact at the end of the month, I actually just found a forgotten tenner stuffed in the pocket of my winter coat or something similar (this month I did win £3.10 on the Euromillions though).

Not quite Pimms jelly

Of course, this month she said that I was due the best weekend of the current decade, ever, over the weekend of 12-13th May.  Well excuse me, but if that was my best weekend of the decade then I'm in for a bloody bumpy ride up until 2020!  But equally, she was right about a career decision that I'd been pressured to make.  She suggested waiting for the right thing to come along.  I chose not to do as I was told and wait.  All without reading the horoscope first so I like to think she's right.  About me and the other half billion Capricorns in the world.

One other thing she mentioned was the current Venus retrograde which would put a kibosh on some of my creative plans. And yes, life has now tampered with my blog plans for today and tomorrow.  So instead of a nice Pimms jelly, planned in advance of the jubilee celebrations and with the hot weather we had been having in mind, I've now had to bring you a pretty pleasant summer pasta dish from the BBC Good Food website at the last minute.  Fresh, storecupboard stuff.  Quick and easy for a last minute dish after a long day at work.  And healthy too.

I also blame the Venus retrograde for compromising my plans to make my jubilee bundt tomorrow.  An action-packed day of work followed by a Jubilee party at Miss A's nursery (I'd intended to make cake for that too but the week has just vanished) and a trip to the doggie doctors in the evening has left me severely short on time and inspiration.  Now wondering what the June horrorscope will hold but of course, I can't look for another thirty days.

Recipe for the prawn dish is here

Lil Ms Squirrel's Panzanella

I was on a course today and during the breaks (because my mind NEVER wanders when I'm at work), I got to thinking about identity and more specifically how I identify myself.  Like most courses, you had to do the 'Name, Job Title, How Long You've Been With the Company, Tell Us Something Unusual' icebreaker-y thing at the start.  Knowing pretty much everyone in the room, I may have tuned out just a little and focussed my attention on the course notes.

When on another course recently, we were asked to do the same exercise and I decided to shake things up a bit by introducing myself with my Twitter profile.  It sums me up quite well in 140 characters and tells people more about me than they would probably ever care to know.  Saying so much in such as small amount of letters is pretty amazing for someone like me who has a tendency for verbosity.

If you've never seen my Twitter profile (why not??!), I sum my self up like this:


"Slummy mummy, blogger, jogger, maker, baker, doer, high heeled shoer, daydream believer, Mrs @lccphotography, and international woman of mystery"

Just to clear up 'The International Woman of Mystery' bit, I work for one of those institutions that if you knew who it was, I'd probably have to kill you.  In fact, I'm now worried every time I vaguely mention my work on my blog that I'm violating our recently published social media policy.  Mostly because with a bit of smart Googling, you can find out what I do and where.  I'm not at all important.  But I like to keep people guessing.



Salady goodness



I have various personas depending on the situation but at work, if people don't know me personally, they know me as 'the lady with the shoes'.  The men always joke about who will steal my shoes (especially the red patent heels) if I have to leave them in one of the 'safe' areas before donning my oh-so-sexy safety shoes.

All of the older ladies on site are very taken with my collection of towering heels and enviously tell me that they wish they were young enough to still get away with wearing shoes like that.  And take great delight in telling me that I'll be in for a bout of varicose veins in a few years time and will find comfort in a frumpy pair of Dr Scholls like my mother used to wear when she was my age.  I'll stick to running shoes, thanks all the same.

Today, I was sporting a new pair of turquoise suede platform shoes - with a five inch heel.  Hardly practical for any job but worse when you are on a site tour with someone from H&S who has issues with high heeled shoes.  To be fair, said person was quite right and having been on my feet most of the day (normally I sit at my desk bare foot) by the time I got home, I was tired and had sore feet and really couldn't be bothered with dinner tonight.

The temptation was to just toast the remains of yesterday's sourdough and slather it with butter and jam (not all on the same area - I don't like the two things spread on top of each other - but of course, I had to try something new for the blog.

With a lack of vegetable matter in the fridge, I hit on the idea of a panzanella.  I've seen this made on the tellybox several times before and have always shied away from it because it involves stale, soggy bread.  I don't do soggy bread - I like mine crispy.  But the one thing I was pretty sure about was that this is one of those salads with a myriad of interpretations.  And I wasn't wrong.

In fact, Wikipedia (which of course is totally true) states that the modern version of panzanella is a salad of stale bread, soaked in water and dried and tomatoes, olive oil, vinegar, salt and pepper.  It then carries on to list a whole raft of other things that you may include in a panzanella.  Stopping just short of throwing the kitchen sink in.  In fact, if you didn't know better and if you pick and choose correctly, you could actually end up with a Salad Nicoise instead. 

So, I set about making up my own panzanella.  I kept made sure I had tomatoes - which I'm actually beginning to like after all these years since I've forced myself to eat them whilst writing this blog.  And I did the bread thing, but instead of soaking it to bring it back to freshness, I actually baked mine to make croutons.  I'm sure a real Florentine traditionalist would have a dose of the vapours over that choice.  I then added some sald vegetables, fresh herbs and a chopped up pan-fried chicken breast.  With a lemon dressing (I left out the recommended garlic - mostly because I have a lot of meetings tomorrow), I had myself a really nice storecupboard salad (okay I keep my salad in the crisper in the fridge, but you know what I mean!).

And because the salad was vaguely virtuous and I've not eaten since breakfast, I think I fully deserve the last of my fully loaded brownies.

So this is how I made my salad for one.  Easily multiplied but not in this house as it contains vegetables.  And I'm the only one who eats them.

Recipe

• 1 ripe tomato, cut into eight chunks
• 3 inch piece of cucumber, cut into chunks
• 1 slice day old bread - sourdough or other rustic bread is best
• 2 tsp chilli olive oil
• 2 tsp plain olive oil
• 1/2 small red onion, finely sliced
• 1 chicken breast
• 2 tsp Schwarz chargrilled chicken seasoning
• small handful of fresh mixed herbs, chopped - I used basil and coriander
• half a little gem lettuce (optional)

For the dressing

• 2 tsp olive oil
• 2 tsp white wine vinegar
• juice of half a lemon
• salt and freshly ground black pepper

Cut the bread into 1/2 inch cubes and toss with the chilli olive oil.

Bake in an oven preheated to 220c/200c fan for 10-15 minutes until brown and crispy

Butterfly the chicken breast and sprinkle both sides with the seasoning.

Heat the 2tsp plain olive oil in a small frying pan and pan fry the chicken for about 10 minutes, turning once, or until fully cooked.  Remove from the pan and leave to rest for five minutes, then chop into chunks.

Meanwhile mix the cucumber, tomatoes and onion and herbs in a bowl.

Mix the dressing ingredients and season to taste.

Combine the chicken, croutons, vegetables and dressing.  Mix well then serve on the lettuce (if using).

Leith's Spaghetti with Courgettes and Chilli

I had a couple of moments of madness recently.  The first was agreeing to the husband's request to extend our summer holiday to two weeks.  The second was signing up for the Olympic Food Challenge.  Tonight, I'll talk about the holiday problem.  I'll talk more about the OFC later this week (in the meantime, check out my OFC page and the official OFC website)

We'd booked a week in North Berwick.  Hubs is a keen wildlife photographer and we regularly visit north-east England and south-east Scotland this time of year to see the see the sea-bird breeding spectacles.  This year's cottage overlooks Bass Rock which is one of the Seven Great Nature Wonders of the World  He's very excited about that.  Pre-child we also used to spend a separate week in the Highlands to see the ospreys that nest around the Cairngorms.  Never ever two consecutive weeks.  I worry that we'll end up getting divorced after so much time in close proximity.  Even our honeymoon was only ten days long.

Not only do we have to spend so much time in each other's company, but we also have to contend with the demands of the 366 Recipe Challenge.  It's challenging enough doing this in my own kitchen, let alone someone else's.  And the second week, the nearest supermarket is at least 20 miles away.  And my foraging credentials suck (see this post) so I need to be prepared.

I figured that I'd make a list of twenty simple recipes that could be easily prepared with the minimum of ingredients and fuss.  That would be all well and good, if I had a family that wasn't 'discerning' in what they eat.  Miss A has now fixated on fish fingers, meatballs, and malt loaf - in addition to her favoured diet of bread, Babybel cheese and fruit.  The husband still only eats chicken.  Or ham egg and chips.  This isn't going to be easy.

The non-veggie version...

So far, my list runs to James Martin's Chicken Club with Bacon Mayonnaise.  Yes, that's right.  I'm going to attempt homemade mayonnaise without a food processor.  I will also be packing my loaf tin so that I can maybe make a loaf or two (recipes still to be sourced) and maybe my sandwich tins so I can make a cake - it is holiday, after all.  So that leaves me with about fifteen more recipes to find.  Or they'll be eating fish finger sandwiches every day so I can try something new by myself.

During an idle attempt to come up with some easy recipes, I scoured my copy of Leith's Simple Food.  It's got some recipes that I could use.  If only the husband didn't mind spicy things or meals with 'grassy bits' in.  As I said.  He's 'discerning'.

In doing so, I happened across this little recipe which is a great store cupboard tea.  Although I keep my courgettes and creme fraiche in the fridge.  But you get my drift.

Being even more lazy than the book gives the reader credit for, I forewent the expense of buying a whole pack of chillies when I only needed one and used chilli oil instead.  As this meant that there wasn't red in the dish to contrast with the insipid whiteness of the pasta and the bright green of the courgettes, I then topped it with some crispy prosciutto (thanks for making the decision for me, Twitter!).  The recipe suggests Parmesan shavings as it's a veggie recipe, but the colour and flavour of the crispy ham worked just as well.

One other minor change is that they say to drain the pasta really well.  I found it hard to then stir the courgette mixture through the pasta as it was dry itself.  So I used a top tip I picked up from Jamie O.  Adding a little of the cooking water to the mix to ease the combination of veg and pasta.

All in all, another really easy tea that I love.  I pretty much love anything that comes with spaghetti and this summery dish will help me get my fix rather than a huge bloaty bowl of spag bol or meatballs.  On the cook again list.

Recipe - Serves 2 (adapted from Leith's Simple Cookery)

• 200g dried spaghetti
• 1 large courgette, grated
• 1 tbsp chilli olive oil 
• 1 clove garlic, crushed
• 2 tbsp low fat creme fraiche
• 1 slice of prosciutto fried or baked until crispy OR parmesan shavings

1. Cook the spaghetti according to the packet instructions.
2. Meanwhile, heat the olive oil in a frying pan over a low heat and fry the garlic for thirty seconds, taking care not to burn it (which I invariably do and then have to start again!)
3. Add the courgette and cook for a few minutes.  Take care to keep it moving round the pan or it will stick and burn (and you'll have to start again - see step 2!)
4. Add the creme fraiche and mix thoroughly.
5. Reserve 2 tbsp of the pasta water then drain the spaghetti.  Return it to the saucepan and add the courgette mixture.  Add a little of the pasta water at a time to ease combining the two.
6. Divide between two serving dishes and top with either the prosciutto or the Parmesan

Olive Magazine Spaghetti Puttanesca

The last two days have been yet another two very busy days in the crazy life that is mine.  I met two new and very different groups of people - both sets of whom got bored to tears with the story of how my blog came about (and my tendency to waffle endlessly when writing - also demonstrated verbally whilst describing the blog!)

Freestanding fork

First set of people were work colleagues who were on a Presentation Skills course.  I've been on several variations of this course over the years with my previous history as a trainer so for me it was a refresher more than anything.  I did, however, learn two new things which are kind of food related and will hopefully stick.  The first is that apparently there is an onion-related theme running throughout the Shrek films.  I've only seen Shrek 1 twice and Shrek 2 once.  I didn't notice this so I know what Miss A and I will be doing this weekend.

Second thing was SUMO.  Food related, because I am becoming rather sumo-shaped from all this over-indulgence and a lack of running thanks to the hacking cough that's still plaguing me.  More appropriate than the fat-bloke reference however (and no, I don't wear black nappies!), was the meaning of the acronym.  Shut Up and Move On.  I'm sure you're thinking that right now!

On to the second group of people.  The Bath Clandestine Cake Club.  What a lovely bunch of people!  Held in a secret location near Bath, with people whose names I can't reveal because I'd have to kill myself, the first meeting of cake club was a great event.  Of course, what's not to like about people that like cake?  Everyone was really friendly.  I felt a bit bad with my over-showy raspberry and lime cake with Swiss meringue buttercream (I got carried away - see yesterday's blog for the proof) and that was why I bored them all to tears about my blog in an attempt to justify getting carried away.

Aside from meeting lovely people, I also ate some fantastic cake.  Most memorable for me were a blueberry cake with cream cheese frosting and a malt vinegar cake (yep, that's right!).  I was also in awe of a beautiful cherry and almond cake where the cherries had been dusted in gold glitter - that one's still in my cake tin, awaiting consumption.

Note the cut off head to preserve Clandestine-ness

The meeting was held in a public place (hopefully I won't get shot at dawn for revealing this) and some people who happened to be nearby came to see what we were up to.  We gave one lovely gent some cake to take home to his wife of 48 years and he very generously made a donation to charity after he wouldn't take the cake away as a gift from the bakers.

A huge thanks to SJ for organising this and I'm really looking forward to the next one!

On the downside, I spent most of yesterday mainlining coffee (I don't know why I do this when I'm on a course) and then after no tea last night, I consumed an exponential amount of sugar.  Consequently, with a 20-woodbines-a-day smokers cough, I was still awake at 3am worrying about the Victoria sponge I'd planned to bake at 5.30am to cover the blog and the subject of my final presentation.

By 4am I'd managed to replan my final presentation to be about how I justify things economically (see the following post where I've talked about this before), thus ensuring that Short and Sweet made an appearance as a visual aid.  I then hit BBC Good Food to find a store cupboard recipe and came back with this one.

I bought a tin of anchovies three years ago to make some salsa verde to go with steak and homemade chips.  I can't remember why I didn't make the sauce, but that tin of hairy little fish has been staring me in the face every time I open my cupboard ever since.  Tonight it was opened, and I finally braved eating the little blighters.

While the sauce was cooking, I honestly didn't think I'd like it.  The flavour just seemed completely wrong and I couldn't work out what was missing.  There was saltiness from the very finely chopped anchovies, a little more from the olives.  A weird tang from the capers. Heat from the chilli flakes.  But I couldn't put my finger on what was missing.  So I soldiered on, fearing I'd end up with a rubbish tea after a long sleepless night and an even longer day.  The final step was to mix in parsley with the spaghetti and sauce.  And bang.  There was the missing ingredient.

I still continue to be amazed by how much just one element can make or break a dish.  Sometimes you can leave something out and it doesn't make much difference.  But for me, the parsley was an absolute must.

Bringing me nicely back to another point I picked up about planning.  Must, Could, Should.  I think it has a life application and definitely relates to cookery.  I was going with that theme for my presentation on the Vicky Sponge.  You must use equal weights of eggs, butter, self raising flour and sugar.  You must use jam to sandwich it together.  You should use vanilla to lift the flavour of the sponge.  You could use fresh cream or butter cream.  But it's not essential (and frowned on by the WI).

So my Must, Could, Should for the next week is as follows.  I must eat more healthily.  I should keep my promise to bake my mentor a banana cake - seeing as how he asked so nicely about three weeks ago.  I could try to make two or less Dan Lepard recipes.  But I'm not making any promises.

In the meantime, I'm loving the puttanesca and will be using this as a quick tea for me on many an occasion in the future.  You can find the recipe here.