Just a quick note.
I am adding a new feature on a Wednesday.
A glimpse at what I drink at home and other unsavoury places.
I am not a wine snob, nor can I be considered a connoisseur, but I have a fair idea of what’s ‘plonk’ and what’s not. In other words, I know what I like to drink.
My general criteria for buying wine is the price; I don’t have stacks of money being an impoverished English teacher.
A bottle may take my fancy, it may be the colour of the bottle or the label, I’m a label buff. Being an artist, both in oils and graphic, I have a sense of design.
These need to be sent back from whence they came
Wines will inevitably be dry, or demi-sec, but not restricted to, they may be either white or red; but one thing is certain, they won’t have a screw-on-top. A screw-on-top is a ticket straight back to the shelf without further consideration.
I live in Brazil, a country that, sadly can produce neither an acceptable beer nor a great wine. But Brazil is fortunate in that it has good neighbours like Argentina and Chile. Then there are also European and South African wines readily available.
So, come and check out Wednesday Whine with me… on Wednesday.
I am not one for vege/vegan foods, I was born a carnivore and shall remain one. But occasionally I see something interesting in my perambulations around the blogosphere that look interesting and fall in the realm of vege/vegan.
Cauliflower steaks are just that.
You can read about them on the image link. Simple instructions.
And if you google cauliflower steaks, there’s a heap of information out there.
Reblog from Patrons of the Pit
A Hint of Warm: Jalapeno Poppers
“The Sun, with all those planets revolving around it and dependent upon it, can still ripen a bunch of grapes as if it had nothing else in the Universe to do.” – Galileo Galilei
Atomic Buffalo Turds. Yup, that’s a fact. That is what the under ground grilling community calls them anyways. Now I can’t quite figure out why they call it that, for I have on occasion made the acquaintanceship of a buffalo, and I can assure you that their back end tokens look nothing like what we’re about to cook! But who cares I guess. The name is catchy if not down right deplorable. And it is kind of fun to serve up a plate of declared buffalo turds and see how your guests thus roll their collective eyes. You might, I suppose, be better off calling them by their politically correct name, jalapeno poppers. In the end, it doesn’t matter I guess, because good is good, and these things are fabulous if you haven’t had the opportunity. Cream cheese stuffed jalapeno peppers wrapped in bacon and smoked on the pit. Glory! Lets get after it!
Read the rest of this great post on the link above.
Would you try the world’s hottest pepper?
A man in South Carolina has won the title of growing the world’s hottest pepper, according to Guinness World Records. His ‘Carolina Reaper’ peppers have a stem resembling the tail of a scorpion and a heat factor that’s about the same as pepper spray. Would you try one?
The Carolina Reaper pepper, made by Ed Currie of PuckerButt Pepper Co in Fort Mill, South Carolina, is the world’s hottest, according to the Guinness World Records. Photograph: Jeffrey Collins/AP
Many people need a real tree to complete the Christmas spirit. So, what are you going to do with it now?
Throw it away? Recycle it? Cook it?
Yes, I said cook it!
No, I haven’t slipped a cog, I haven’t lost it.
How to cook chump of lamb roasted with Christmas tree – recipe
Don’t just throw out your Christmas tree – eat it. The chef at Le Champignon Sauvage, Cheltenham shows us how to keep the festive cheer alive by roasting lamb with a few aromatic branches
David Everitt-Matthias’s Christmas tree lamb. Photograph: David Everitt-Matthias
This is one of the dishes we put on after Christmas in the restaurant. It uses the Christmas tree both as aromatic and as a bed to cook the lamb on, giving a wonderful scent to the meat and keeping Christmas cheer alive in our minds. We serve this with potato mousseline and either red cabbage braised with cranberries, or buttered sprout tops with toasted brown breadcrumbs, grated chestnuts and lots of black pepper.
Chump of lamb roasted with Christmas tree
Four 250g lamb chumps, trimmed
Salt and pepper
50ml olive oil
60g unsalted butter, cubed
Four 4in/10cm branches of Christmas tree, plus a few extra Christmas tree needles, for flavour
200ml lamb jus (or good quality stock)
For the potato mousseline:
1kg Desiree potatoes, peeled [waxy pink-red skin]
125g double cream
100g unsalted butter
Salt and white pepper
For the lamb
Heat the oven to 200C/390F/gas mark 6. Season the lamb chumps. In an oven-proof pan, heat the oil and half the butter and, when hot, sear the lamb on all sides. Remove from the pan, add the Christmas tree branches to release their scent, turn over and lay the lamb on top, fat side up. Roast for 15-20 minutes, remove from the oven and leave to rest for about 15 minutes.
Pour the lamb stock and a few Christmas tree needles into a saucepan, bring to a boil, to reduce, then whisk in the remaining butter little by little. Season to taste, pass through a fine sieve and set aside.
For the mousseline
Cut the potatoes into even-sized pieces of about 6cm square. Rinse them, then place in a large saucepan, cover with cold water and add a good pinch of salt.
Bring to a boil, turn down to a simmer and cook for 20 minutes, until tender.
Drain, and place on a baking tray and pop them into the hot oven for two to three minutes, to dry out. Meanwhile, put the cream and butter in a saucepan, bring to the boil then simmer until reduced by half. Push the potatoes through a sieve (this is how restaurants get that super-smooth mash) into a bowl, then beat in the cream-and-butter mix, and season.
To serve, place a generous spoonful of mousseline on each plate, carve each lamb chump into five pieces and lay on top of the potato. Dress with your chosen vegetable (red cabbage or sprout tops) and spoon over the lamb jus.
So, you can have your Christmas tree… and cook it too!
Everybody has a hangover remedy.
At no other time of the year is this more important than New Year.
So, I bring you The Dr Henderson and other dangerous substances.
Make your own Fernet Branca hangover cure
Feeling green around the gills from overindulging? This medicinal shot from Italy – and its variations – will sort you out
The Dr Henderson – a twist on the Fernet Branca. Photography: Jill Mead for the Guardian
In common with many people who work in the food world, I was introduced to Fernet Branca by Fergus Henderson, proprietor of the St John’s restaurant in London.
We were on a trip to Piedmont for the truffle season, organised by the chef and restaurateur Mitch Tonks. Accepting any invitation from Mitch requires a certain amount of stamina: I’ve received many pathetic hungover texts reading simply, “I’ve been Tonksed”. This trip was no exception. One participant described it as a “marine-style endurance test” of eating and drinking.
On day three, I emerged for breakfast distinctly green around the gills. Fergus pulled a bottle of brown, bitter liqueur from his pocket and poured me a shot. Fergus tends to use words sparingly because of his Parkinson’s disease, but he is one of the clearest communicators I have ever met. “Try it!” he urged, and with one hand traced the imminent internal journey of the drink – warming the throat, soothing the belly, bouncing back up and splashing over the liver. And then a shake of the whole body and a large satisfied smile. I downed the shot, and that is exactly what happened.
I have previously suggested in this column that there is no cure for a hangover. That may have been too pessimistic. If you’re feeling “Tonksed” after the Christmas blow-out, try any one of these Fernet-based cocktails. They will sort you right out.
The juice of 1 lime
25ml ginger syrup (from a jar of stem ginger)
25ml Fernet Branca
Combine all the ingredients together in a cocktail shaker and pour into a glass over ice.
Dr Henderson (pictured)
25ml creme de menthe
25ml Fernet Branca
Fernet con coca
Simply combine and pour over ice. As drunk in Argentina.
50ml Fernet Branca
200ml Coca Cola
Recipes by Henry Dimbleby and Jane Baxter.
I trust this leaves my followers and visitors fortified and ready for anything this New Year.
…from bone marrow to Thai curry
Boundary-pushing pizzerias are serving toppings that would make a Neapolitan swoon – and not in a good way. But some of them are delicious. Would you order a doner kebab pizza?
Lamb doner kebab pizza from Artisan.
In Naples, there are militants who insist that there are only three truly authentic varieties of pizza: marinara, margherita and margherita extra, with buffalo mozzarella. Across wider Italy, the list of acceptable pizza toppings is tightly circumscribed. It’s a decent bet, therefore, that Italians will hate the coming trend in Britain’s pizzerias.
From Homeslice’s oxtail and bone marrow pizzas to the Welsh lamb and mint pesto slice at Baravin in Aberystwyth, a new wave of restaurants is slipping the shackles of Italian orthodoxy and getting creative with toppings. In Manchester, at Artisan, you can even order a lamb doner kebab pizza. Yes, really.
More remarkably, unlike their Hawaiian and peking duck predecessors, some of these experimental creations actually work. Dressed with a soy glaze, Homeslice’s mushroom, ricotta and pumpkin seed slice cleverly balances savoury depth, freshness and a nutty textural variety. “I’m not Italian, and I’ve never felt confined by the traditional toppings,” says the New Zealand chef and co-owner, Ryan Jessup. “I didn’t want any kind of gimmick, I just wanted to put flavours together that worked, using traditional processes and quality ingredients.”
America’s irreverent approach to “pie” was a key inspiration for Pizza East and Voodoo Ray’s gently innovative gourmet pizzas, both in London. The latter sells a savoy cabbage and bacon slice, which anglicises the cult brussels sprouts and pancetta pizza sold at Motorino in New York. Using local ingredients is a hallmark of these new, upstart British pizzerias.
For others, getting creative just seems to be a natural progression. As a nation, we’ve finally got to grips with the basics of real pizza (proper 00-flour doughs; wood-fired ovens); the next stage is to put our stamp on it. At Pizzaface in Brighton, which tops its pizzas with lamb proscuitto, smoked tuna and chipotle chillies, or the Crate Brewery in London, which serves a laksa chicken pizza, the approach is pretty radical. Lardo, also in London, represents a quieter shift to more sophisticated Italian ingredients (porchetta, lardo itself), which are unheard of as pizza toppings in Italy.
“We’re obsessed by food and we love playing around,” says Lisa Richards, co-owner of Great British Pizza Co in Margate, whose recent specials have included a Parma ham and nectarine pizza, and a take on Turkish lahmacun, topped with minced lamb, parsley and lemon juice. “And,” she adds, “our specials always sell out.”
As a co-owner of Pleb, a Lewes street food operation that serves authentic Roman pizza, Joe Lutrario doesn’t particularly like this trend. He and his business partner still argue over whether to use onions or not, never mind braised lamb: “It’s semantics, but at that point it probably stops being Italian pizza. Capers, olives and anchovies go really well with mozzarella and tomatoes and, in my opinion, there are probably only another 10 ingredients that do. We’re pretty conservative.”
However, in his other life as a senior reporter at Restaurant magazine, Lutrario predicts that “British” pizza could well take off: “Possibly at the expense of established places, such as Pizza Express. Local ingredients, local beers, pizza – it just works as a business model. Pizza is high-margin, relatively easy to knock out, and it doesn’t encourage people to stay for long.”
At Artisan, on a wood-fired pizza menu that also includes a (pretty awful) Thai curry number and a (pretty awesome) shaved potato and chorizo pizza topped with game crisps, the doner kebab is its biggest seller. It is a novelty dish, but a surprisingly effective one. After all, what is pizza but a flatbread? This is just an open doner kebab.
Artisan’s executive chef, John Branagan, actually wanted to call these pizzas flatbreads, but watched Jamie Oliver fail to communicate his topped British flatbreads concept at Union Jacks. “We were too chicken,” he says. “It’s been done before and people have reverted to using the word pizza.” Think of these new-wave pizzas as flatbreads, however (at Artisan, generally the ingredients aren’t cooked on the pizza, but added after), and it all begins to make more sense.
Branagan likes to retain a pizza look by including some sort of tomato sauce, but he plays around with it to make it suitable. For example, the pulled pork pizza uses a BBQ sauce. On certain Homeslice pizzas, Jessup has dispensed with tomato sauce altogether, using beurre blanc on his mackerel pizza and a kind of creamed corn soup on his corn and chorizo. Get over the necessity to start every pizza/flatbread with a tomato sauce, and suddenly the potential variations are endless. “The base is just a carrier,” says Branagan.
Not that Italians will be persuaded. “My father-in-law is Italian, a retired chef,” says Branagan, “and he would pass out [at this].”
Catching up on the blogs that I follow, I was browsing through the latest from The Fervent Shaker, when I spotted something new; Hpnotiq Liqueur. You’ll see why I have coloured it blue…
There is also a purple Hpnotiq Harmonie.
So, I was off to the great god google and found the homepage and some interesting cocktails apart from the one on the link above…
- Glam Bomb
- Berry Creamsicle
- Hypnotiq Upside Down Cake
- Hypnotiq cupcake Shot
- Harmonie cupcake Shot
- Put a Ring on it
- Stiletto Sangria
- Bling it on
- Bubbles & Blue
You can find the recipes on Hynotiq homepage
The newest addition to our Girls Night Out crew, Harmonie is a refreshing blend of Premium French Vodka, Infused Natural Fruits and a Touch of Cognac.
A Refreshing Blend of Premium French Vodka, Exotic Fruit Juices, and a Touch of Cognac.
The above quoted from the homepage, read more there
Make Your Dinner While Cleaning The Plates
Food writer Dan Pashman says poached pears are great in the dishwasher. We’re not sure about the asparagus, but we’ll let you know after the cycle finishes.
My mom is a creative cook. And a darn good one at that.
But when she told me and my sister — way back in 1995 — that she had started cooking salmon in the dishwasher, we just rolled our eyes and shook our heads. Here comes a kitchen catastrophe.
An hour later, mom proved her teenage daughters wrong once again. The salmon was tender, moist and super flavorful. In some ways, it was better than her fish cooked in the oven.
Flash-forward 18 years, and dishwasher cuisine seems to be making a comeback.
A handful of YouTube videos and food blogs are showing off the method. And even Oprah a recipe for an entire lunch — noodles, asparagus and salmon — prepared in the dishwasher.
So how does it work?
Find out on NPR the Salt
Dry bars: will they be the next big thing?
Alcohol-free cocktail bars are springing up across the country, but can they lure punters away from pubs and clubs?
Dry bars serve colourful non-alcoholic cocktails. Photograph: Alamy
The drinks look good: vibrant reds and greens; fresh mint and crushed ice bursting from the glass; petals; a rim of salt. The drinks taste good, too. But there is something missing. The soporific burn of alcohol. As anyone coming to the Redemption bar in east London is warned on arrival, these drinks are dry. Although if you didn’t get the warning, you could work it out from the names of the cocktails (“mocktails”). Here’s a “mock-jito” – muddled fresh mint and lime – or a “coco-rita”, based on coconut water.
Redemption is the brainchild of Catherine Salway, the former group brand director of Virgin Media, who left two years ago “to pursue my own idea – something that was disruptive and socially conscious”. She hit upon a dry bar when she was meeting a friend with “a bit of a drink problem” and couldn’t think where to go. “There are coffee shops and juice bars but there wasn’t anywhere that felt like you could have a proper night out.”
Salway is not the first to start an alcohol-free bar. In Liverpool, the Brink opened in 2011, as a social enterprise to help those recovering from alcohol addiction. The past year has seen turnover rise by 50%, says its manager, Jacquie Johnston-Lynch, who describes her customer base as “50% recovery community, 50% a combination of Joe and Josephine Bloggs who come in because they love the food – students, grannies out for lunch, business people, musos.”
Johnston-Lynch says she is now “helping a number of organisations around the country to set up their own places” through an offshoot called Brinky Business. She mentions a four-storey venue in Newcastle, soon to open, and plans for a place in Cardiff. Salway herself believes “there is a market for five to 10 Redemption bars across the UK over the next five to 10 years.” Her research tells her that 75% of Londoners under 30 would visit an alcohol-free bar, and she is trying out the concept in the hipster heartland.
English wine: Is sparkling wine better in England than France?
A vineyard in Hampshire
The Duchess of Cornwall has called for a new name for English sparkling wine to match the grandeur of champagne. And for the first time, domestic wine is the most popular in the government’s cellar. Have Britons developed a taste for a home-grown tipple?
Someone arrives with a bottle of English wine. Cue excitable voices saying, “Gosh, English wine is really quite good, you know – it gives champagne a run for its money.”
The surprise used to be palpable.
But English wine has grown up. Today it regularly wins awards – there were four gold medals at the International Wine Challenge (IWC) this year.
It’s a far cry from English actor Peter Ustinov’s put down: “I imagine hell like this – Italian punctuality, German humour and English wine.”
But is there something holding English wine back? It accounts for just 0.25% of total wine sales in the UK, according to industry body English Wine Producers.
This week the Duchess of Cornwall called on producers to come up with a name.
“People should put their heads together and think of a new name for English sparkling wine,” she said while visiting Hambledon Vineyard in Hampshire. “It should be something with much more depth. I plan to find a new word for it.”
So is new terminology the final piece in the jigsaw?
English wine has been through a revolution. Old grape varieties are out, new owners are in. The area of vines planted in England and Wales has doubled from 761 hectares in 2004 to about 1,500 hectares today. The country now has 434 vineyards.
Figures just released by the Foreign Office on the government’s wine cellar, show that for the first time more English wine was drunk at government hospitality events than wine from any other nation.
Andrew Neather, Evening Standard wine critic, says the new winemakers tend to be go-ahead types from the City or wealthy lawyers, who want to carve out another career.
They are focusing on sparkling wine, planting more of the traditional champagne grapes – chardonnay, pinot noir and pinot meunier. In 2010, for the first time more than half of the vintage went into sparkling wine.
Three of this year’s four IWC gold medal winners were sparkling wines. In June, Majestic announced that sales of English sparkling wine trebled in 2012, encouraged by the Jubilee and Olympics.
There is logic to England focusing on fizz. Kent and West Sussex, where the best English sparkling wine originates, are only about 90 miles north of Champagne. The chalky soils around the North and South Downs are very similar to the earth where famous names such as Bollinger and Dom Perignon plant their grapes.
Denbies Wine Estate in Dorking, Surrey, is the UK’s largest single vineyard
The best English sparking wine is as good as “decent” champagne, Neather says. England’s top seller – Nyetimber – has more to offer than a mass market champagne like Moet Imperial, he argues.
“It’s more interesting, has more complexity and better acidity.” The Moet costs more at £32.99 – although it is sometimes discounted – while Nyetimber is £29.99.
The Financial Times wine critic, Jancis Robinson agrees, albeit with a couple of caveats.
“Most English fizz is now very well made and attractively dry and zesty. But very little has any real complexity since producers generally cannot afford to age it very long.” And cost is a problem. “It’s never a bargain,” Robinson says.
“It is generally made by people who have invested a great deal in new vineyards or winemaking and need to see a return.”
The competition can be significantly cheaper whether prosecco, cava or own-brand champagne. Aldi, for example, sells champagne for just £12.99.
Despite the cost premium, patriotism and the fashion for local provenance suggests that current levels of production are outstripped by demand.
“The industry sells everything it produces,” says Julia Trustram Eve, spokeswoman for English Wine Producers. “Demand is exceeding supply.”
If the English are planning to supplant the Champagne name, they’re going to have to come up with something more dramatic than Nyetimber or Dorking.
Just imagine that rolling off your tongue, “Here, have a Dorking!” or “I’ve brought the Dorks, darling!” when you compare it with the much more regal sounding, “Here have a Champagne!” or “I’ve brought the Champers, darling!”
I put it to you, is there an English county name that equals the magic of Champagne? I think not. Pity, because without that magic ring, Champagne will always be king.
Every home should have one
Sorry, couldn’t find a bigger one.
The Liebster Award was invented to discover new blogs. You can read the history of this award on Sopphy Says
Honoured, I am.
I thought, I had had all the awards doing the circuits on various blogs, it seems I
I have really stopped participating in these awards since I moved from BlogSpot to WordPress, not because I am being churlish, rather that I was extremely disappointed by the response I had to one I participated in; none of my nominees even so much as acknowledged receiving the award.
However, I find myself drawn, however humbly to this one, because it’s different… well a little different.
culprit blogger that lumbered me bestowed this damned thing lovely award upon me was none other than Lord of the Rings drings Drinks. I will do his bidding.
Apparently when you get nominated for the Liebster Award you need to do three things: answer the 11 questions of the one who nominated you, come up with 11 new questions for 11 other bloggers and share 11 random facts about yourself.
I have got to answer the following 11 LOTD questions:
1. What country are you from?
New Zealand, but I forgot where it is… I am a practicing Brazilian now.
2. What’s your age?
I’m a chenior shitizen! That’s close enough.
3. How old were you when you first got drunk?
Hmmm, don’t remember that too well, about 16.
4. What’s your favorite drink?
Oooooh, tricky. Should be gin, my first spirit in the form of a Tom Collins when I was 14.
5. How many units of alcohol (check the graphic) do you approximately drink per week?
Between 3 – 10, normally closer to the lower end of the scale.
6. What kind of drunk are you (angry, sleepy, extra-social, horny, dramatic, dancing, etc.)?
I’m a happy drunk, except like last week when the local bludger biffed my cat in the bar, I biffed him. I can’t stand animals being mistreated, especially my Lixo.
7. Is their any interesting local drinking custom, ritual or game that you can share with us?
Game… hmmm, well not local, but we used to play Colonel Huff as a teenager.
8. Describe your most epic drunk night.
I don’t and never did consider being drunk as ‘epic’, more of an unfortunate consequence.
9. Which drink (or mix) is certain to screw you up?
Tequila! Did last week, got drunk for the first time in 10 years.
10. Got any tips on how to have a good (drunk) night for little money?
We always figured that cider gave you best value % alcohol/cent money. But that was teenagers.
11. Is their a relatively unknown drink you can recommend us?
Benedictine, is grossly underrated. But here in Brazil, it’s like looking for rockinghorse poo!
One that is spreading slowly around the world is a caipirinha from Brazil with cachaça (sugar cane brandy). For pity’s sake don’t be an American and make it with limes, use lemons; lemons in Brazil are green and as soon as Americans see green, they go ‘Limes!’ Wrong, use lemons, even yellow ones are better than limes, although you don’t get the traditional green drink.
You can make a batida (not a caipirinha) with various fruit, in fact, any fruit.
Also, you can make a caipirinha using vodka, but it is not a caipirinha, rather a caipiroska/caipivodka.
Now it’s my time to help you get to know 11 other interesting bloggers.
1. Boy Drinks World
2. Foam Around the World
3. Good Beer, Better Hats
4. Nectar of the Gods
5. The Reverse Wine Snob
OMG! I’ve run out. Well, I haven’t, but the others were already nominated by LOTD. So you get Five great blogs.
I have got the following 11 questions for them:
1. Are you a beer/wine/spirits person?
2. Have you reached the age where room spins are a thing of the past?
3. How old were you when you first drank/tasted an alcoholic drink?
4. What and where was it?
5. Have you ever made a homebrew?
6. What’s the weirdest drink you have ever had?
7. When you travel, do you try to sample as many of the local drinks as possible?
8. Are you a follower of ‘Red wine, red meat, white wine, white meat?
9. What do you drink with a meal?
10. Have you ever done something you regretted while drinking?
11. Do you consider drinks to be a ‘social lubricant’?
Well even if you’re not mentioned in the blogs above, I still would love to hear your answers to my 11 questions. Interesting drinking customs or stories are always highly appreciated.
If you leave a comment with your answers, consider yourself worthy of a posthumous nomination and take the award for your blog.
With an old box, crate or pallet and a bit of imagination, some sandpaper and varnish or stain you can make miracles.
Got some bamboo?
The 10 best cauliflower recipes
We prise the humble cauliflower away from its cheese-sauce comfort zone and explore its uses as a pizza base, in savoury cakes and even as a Persian tortilla
Whole roast cauliflower with cumin, sumac and lemon. Photograph: Yuki Sugiura for the Guardian
Whole roast cauliflower with cumin, sumac and lemon
It’s just a regular, humble, garden cauliflower, but there’s something really exciting about seeing it come out of the oven whole. Think of this as an edible centrepiece to hack away at, cutting chunks off the main stem, throughout your meal.
Click for recipes
Pizza with cauliflower crust
Pizza with cauliflower crust. Photograph: Yuki Sugiura for the Guardian
The aim with a root vegetable crust is to make something crispy that can be eaten by hand, without it falling apart. Many recipes use lots of eggs, but this one opts for cauliflower and goat’s cream cheese. It works well with a slightly different, less cheesy topping.
Cauliflower and pear bake
This dish from Israel makes a fine accompaniment to all roasts and kebabs.
Caramelised cauliflower soup
This is a delightfully textured soup. If you want more richness, replace some of the broth with cream and dress it up with cheese or browned butter. If you halve the broth, you get a nice puree to use as an alternative to mashed potatoes.
Spanish crisp cauliflower. Photograph: Yuki Sugiura for the Guardian
Spanish crisp cauliflower
This is a delightfully textured soup. If you want more richness, replace some of the broth with cream and dress it up with cheese or browned butter. If you halve the broth, you get a nice puree to use as an alternative to mashed potatoes.
This is a Persian kookoo recipe. The word is usually translated as omelette, but it more closely resembles a savoury vegetable cake, very much like a Spanish tortilla, and is delicious eaten hot or cold.
Gratin de chou-fleur
Comté adds a subtle French flavour to this easy-going, comforting dish. If you like, you can spruce it up by flavouring the bechamel with turmeric and adding a handful of chopped hazelnuts to the cauliflower, or by adding truffle juice to the bechamel and sprinkling a few slivers of black truffle amid the florets.
Quinoa, cauliflower and ramsons cakes
In season, ramsons (wild garlic) are the best flavour for these cakes. If you cannot find ramsons, use fresh spinach and add two cloves of crushed garlic.
Black pepper tempeh
This recipe isn’t for the faint of heart; it’s a substantial meal-in-a-pan exploding with spicy, peppery, garlicky, gingery flavours. Finely chop the cauliflower into quick-cooking pieces. If you don’t have coconut oil to hand, use clarified butter or extra virgin olive oil instead.
Roasted cauliflower tart with oat-walnut crust and lemon herb filling
This tart turns roasted cauliflower into a complete meal. The addition of lemon gives it a welcome lift and complements the buttery flavour of toasted walnuts too. Serve it slightly warm or at room temperature with a salad for a perfect spring meal.
Raki on the table
At the moment here in Brazil there is a novela (soap opera) that I enjoy, Salve Jorge, quite a bit takes place in Turkey in both Istanbul and Cappadocia; where the sophisticated Brazilians and Turks are often found sipping raki.
So what is raki?
Raki is considered the national drink of Turkey.
One of the many brands
“An unsweetened, anise-flavored hard alcoholic drink that is popular in Turkey and in the Balkan countries as an apéritif. It is often served with seafood or Turkish meze. It is similar to several other alcoholic beverages available around the Mediterranean, Albanian regions, the Middle East e.g., pastis, ouzo, sambuca, arak, and aguardiente.” – Wikipedia
Traditionally consumed either straight with chilled water on the side or partly mixed with chilled water. Ice cubes are sometimes added.
Dilution with water causes raki to turn a milky-white color like ouzo.
Mezze, with or without drinks, is a selection of small snacks, hot or cold, spicy or savory; they maybe as simple as cubes of white cheese or more sophisticated like walnuts and hot pepper sauce, or meatballs.
Mezzedhes (pl of mezze)
Some restaurants have banned diners taking photographs of their dishes, while others are offering food photography workshops. Do you snap your supper, or is it the height of bad manners?
‘A blurry picture of scrambled eggs on toast … I can almost hear Rudolf Clausius turning in his grave.’ Photograph: Trevor Baker
At the start of 2013 the debate on whether it’s OK to take photographs of your food in restaurants seemed to swing towards a definite “no”. In New York some smaller establishments, such as Momofuku Ko, have banned photography. An article on Esquire’s blog provided a stern list of reasons why pausing for a photo shoot before eating is not OK, the most surreal being that it’s an affront to the laws of thermodynamics (because it makes your food get cold), the most sensible being that your photos will probably be rubbish anyway.
However, in Alicante in Spain, the restaurant group Grupo Gourmet, which owns the much-praised Taberna del Gourmet and Monastrell restaurants, has started running a “Fotografia para foodies” course on the basis that, if people are going to take pictures, they might as well do it properly. Chef-patron María José San Román says that the worst thing about bloggers taking pictures in her restaurants is that, if they don’t do a good job, or if they do it after eating half the food, the result looks terrible.
Well, according to Wikipedia, it’s a small snack usually served in a bar. They are particularly popular in Spain and the Basque Country. You can follow the link to find out more, quite fascinating.
I had never heard of ‘pintxo bars’ before I read this…
The best experimental pintxo bars in San Sebastián
San Sebastián’s famous pintxo bars serve fantastic food for a few euros – and now there’s a new generation of more experimental places to try, says the author of Real Tapas
Experimental pintxo at A Fuego Negro in San Sebastián
Last week, acclaimed Basque chefs Juan Mari Arzak and his daughter Elena, owners the famous Arzak restaurant in San Sebastián, opened Ametsa, their long awaited London outpost. Several notches down the price scale, in Donostia-San Sebastián itself, you can sample bite-size versions, cocina en miniatura or pintxos, the refined Basque version of tapas. Here is a selection of the top avant garde and experimental pintxo bars, plus a couple of classics thrown in.
Iñaki Gulín has kept a loyal following ever since he blazed a trail at La Cuchara de San Telmo. This opened 12 years ago at the back of the old coastal quarter as an innovative, nueva cocina place with a young spirit. Then, five years ago, he and fellow chef Marc Clua left La Cuchara to open Borda Berri a few streets away in this foodie labyrinth, keeping the rock’n’roll style yet turning out impeccable pintxos with a twist. The homely bar, its yellow walls hung with old photos, is professional yet laid-back, not an easy balance. The pintxos are chalked up on a board and cooked to order: an unctuous risotto of mushrooms and idiazabal (a Basque cheese), garlic soup with pig’s ear, braised veal cheeks in wine or a bacalao (salt cod) taco. This is top, earthy Basque fare and not to be missed.
Award-winning Zeruko is one of the old town’s most inventive pintxo haunts. The style is young, hip and playful, with mint-green walls, trestle tables and a bar laden with temptations. Aspic makes a comeback, enclosing diced vegetables and a soft-boiled egg, quickly heated beforehand, or wild mushrooms with foie gras mousse. Meticulously presented, though contrasts of textures and flavours sometimes go too far down the showy molecular route. Try the marmitako, a traditional Basque tuna and potato soup.
Read more bar reviews with photos
Should we learn to love eating insects?
Fried grasshoppers – a Mexican delicacy – are currently on offer in one London restaurant. Is it time to get over our squeamishness and learn to savour the taste of bugs?
Mexican grasshoppers fried in chilis … could you? Photograph: Alamy
On the menu the Mexican delicacy is described as “chapulines fundido“. Having eaten it – indeed polished it off – I would say it is the equivalent of an “insect moussaka”. The bottom layer is made of pureed fried grasshoppers (chapulines), which have been flavoured with softened shallots, garlic, smoky chipotle chillies and lime juice, topped with a gooey, fondue-style blanket of mozzarella and cheddar cheese (queso fundido). You can scoop it up, street-style, with corn tortillas or get stuck in with a knife and fork. And so that you are under no illusion whatsoever about the main ingredient, the dish is garnished with three crispy grasshopper bodies – minus legs and wings. Yum – or not.
Grasshoppers, of course, don’t routinely feature anywhere on British restaurant menus, but that could all be about to change. Wahaca, the sustainable Mexican street-food restaurant chain co-founded by MasterChef winner Thomasina Miers, is trialling the dish for one month only at its South Bank restaurant in London. It claims the unusual move – some might say shameless PR stunt – reflects its ethos of providing interesting, flavoursome fare while encouraging people to take the next step in sustainable eating by swapping meat for a protein-rich, environmentally friendly alternative. Meanwhile in a documentary next Monday on BBC4, Stefan Gates asks if eating bugs – from tarantulas to grasshoppers – can “save the world”.
More than 1,000 insect species are eaten in 80% of countries – mostly in the tropics. The UN’s Food and Agriculture Organisation says insects are vital to meeting the nutritional needs of the world’s growing population but they hardly feature in the diets of many rich nations. As an ingredient, chapulines are a healthy alternative to meat; cooked grasshopper contains up to 60% protein, with 6% fat. Miers herself believes eating insects is no different from eating shrimp or prawns; after all, like insects, they are arthropods.
“It’s just not in our psyche at the moment,” she says. “The chapulines fundido is a great introduction to the beautiful earthy flavour of these insects as it tastes amazing and a salsa is much more palatable for the more squeamish diners out there.”
You can’t argue with the need to get us to eat more sustainably, but given Britons’ aversion to dealing with, let alone eating insects, what do the punters think? On a chilly Monday evening – the first full day of the experiment – a handful of early evening diners at the South Bank restaurant have ordered the dish.
Friends Kate Franklin and Bella Lawrence have eaten more than half the portion they are sharing. “It was very tasty, very lemony in flavour,” says Kate, a 22-year old photographer. But Bella, also 22, isn’t sure about “the three smiley faces” on top, which lie uneaten. The pair agree that the initiative was a commendable one. The chain is doing a steady trade in the dish, if not a roaring one. General manager Dean Hughes said he expects the restaurant – which has 90 covers – to serve up 30 portions by the close of play. After the horsemeat scandal people are definitely looking for alternatives to meat,” he says.
In fact there seems to be more criticism of the heavy cheese layer – which tends to congeal as it gets cold – than the insect content. Personally, I enjoy the rich, smoky flavour and texture of the dish. But even I am unable to wolf down an entire bowl of crunchy grasshopper bodies, which are typically served in Mexico as bar snacks washed down with cold beer. And there is also the issue of the insects’ carbon footprint. Those used by Wahaca – vaccuum-packed in large bags – are imported to the UK from Oaxaca in Mexico.
Have you eaten insects, anywhere in the world? And could you imagine making them a part of your regular diet? Should we westerners just learn to get over our squeamishness?
Sorry, but no thanks, I am definitely a part of the squeamish brigade.
Secret ingredient: Capers
CAPER CRUSADERS: Capers add a special piquancy to Mediterranean dishes, among others.
Do you feel like a caper? No, not the sort that involves jolly japes and other shenanigans, but the little green buds that come in glass jars.
WHAT ARE CAPERS?
Most of us know what capers look like – little pea-size dark green objects usually sold in glass jars. But what are they and where do they come from? Well, they start life growing on a shrub-like bush (Capparis spinosa) that grows particularly well in the Mediterranean region, but also in parts of Asia, the Middle East and California. More recently a small but sophisticated caper industry has taken shape in Australia too.
After being picked (by hand, which accounts for their price), the unopened buds are wilted in the sun or large industrial kilns and later brined or packed in salt.
Capers have been used – originally for medicinal purposes and later in cooking – for thousands of years. They come in a variety of sizes; from that of a baby green pea through to the size of a small olive; the smallest ones – and also the most expensive – hail from southern France and are known as nonpareils. Larger capers are stronger in flavor and less aromatic but should not be confused with caper berries, which are capers that have been allowed to mature until they are about the size of an olive. Like capers, they are brined and can be eaten straight from the jar (they make great finger food on an antipasto platter).
WHAT DO THEY TASTE LIKE?
Their sharp, somewhat salty taste is not to everyone’s taste, but they add a special piquancy to Mediterranean dishes, among others.
WHERE CAN I FIND THEM?
Brined capers are freely available in supermarkets, but if you are after the salted variety you may have to track them down in a specialty food shop. Once opened, keep your capers refrigerated and, most importantly, submerged beneath the brine.
WHAT CAN I USE INSTEAD?
It’d be a shame to try to substitute the flavour of capers but if you must, then try chopped green olives.
GOT ANY GOOD RECIPES USING THEM?
Recipes with veal, fish, and a number of pasta sauces (see below) are among the most popular ways to use capers. Then there are wine sauces, salad dressings, pizza, turkey, meats, relishes, tapenades, Mediterranean dishes, artichoke, vegetables, and olives. They can also be fried and then tossed into a dish for a crunchier, crispier flavour and texture.
Check link for a caper recipe
Can you grow capers?
How to grow capers
Capparis spinosa Spineless Caper flower – image: ebay
Mature caper bushes can grow three feet high and spread four or five feet. They require dry heat and intense sunlight to flourish. They will be killed by temperatures below 20 degrees F. In the north, bring the plants inside during the winter or just grow them in pots in a greenhouse. Seeds are dormant and notoriously difficult to germinate. You can just try starting the seeds, but the following technique will give the best success (40-50%).
Soak the seeds in warm water for 24 hours. Put seeds in a wet towel, seal in a plastic bag and leave in the refrigerator for 6-8 weeks. Remove, soak again in warm water for 24 hours. Plant seeds 3/8 inch deep (lcm) in a mixture of potting soil/perlite/sand (50/25/25%). Use 4-6″ pots and put 4-5 seeds per pot. Seeds should germinate in 3-4 weeks. Grow until 3-5″ tall. Save the best plant; cut the rest with a scissors(don ‘t just pull them out). When transplanting, disturb the root as little as possible. For northem gardeners, when transplanting, protect plant from elements until it has taken (cover with plastic bag for the first 3-4 days, then cut top of the bag to admit some of the elements and leave a week, then remove entire bag) or use row covers. While not the easiest plant to grow, it is worth the effort to harvest and make your own capers.
Source: Seeds from Italy
Where can I buy caper seeds?
Google: Where to buy caper seeds, there’s heaps of places