Top Bun: Yorkshire “Fat Rascals” – A Delicious Tea Time Treat

Like the offspring of a rock cake and a scone, these fruity, rich cakes are easy to make and delicious to eat

Loaded with dry fruit and fragrant with sweet spices, “Fat Rascals” are the ultimate tea time bun. Falling somewhere on the baked goods spectrum between a rock cake and a scone, they manage to be both cakey (they rise in the oven) and biscuity (they have a pleasing exterior that provides a bit of crunch)

Christened by fancy Yorkshire tea room “Bettys”, Fat Rascals are thought to be based on a 15th century recipe for traditional Yorkshire turf buns, . Turf buns were made from a scone-like dough, enriched with lard and fruit, then cooked on a griddle over a turf fire. Bettys tea room jazzed up the recipe (which they keep secret), baked the buns, rather than griddling them, then gave them a catchy new name.

It looks like the name “Fat Rascals” has been trademarked, so I am going to call my version Fat Imposters. I haven’t managed to get my hands on the secret recipe, but I think this is pretty close. Easy, quick and delicious -these are a good pick-me-up for lockdown January.

Fat Imposters

225g self raising flour

125g cold butter, cubed

1 tsp ground cinnamon

1/2 tsp ground mixed spice

75g caster sugar

Zest of one lemon

Zest of one orange/tangerine

2 tsp lemon juice

125g of mixed fruit – I use half sultanas and half raisins

1 egg, beaten

150ml single cream. You can substitute with milk

Blanched almonds and glace cherries to decorate

Preheat the oven to 190C

Sift the flour and spices into a large mixing bowl. Rub in the butter using your fingertips until it resembles coarse breadcrumbs. Stir in the sugar and dried fruit. Mix in the beaten egg. Add the citrus zest and juice to the cream and stir well. Pour the cream onto the mixture and stir with a fork until it comes away from the edges of the bowl and forms a large, sticky ball.

Grease a baking tray. Using a tablespoon, dollop heaps of the mixture onto the tray.

I made 9 largish Imposters with this quantity – each one around 3 inches in diameter. Feel free to make them larger or smaller, just adjust the cooking time a little (longer for bigger, shorter for smaller). Using the spoon, neaten them up as much as possible into round, domed shapes.

Fat Rascals are decorated with 2 glace cherry halves (the posh, undyed ones, not the garish scarlet ones) and then three whole, blanched almonds underneath. They look a bit like eyes above a set of fangs. To avoid any accusations of copying, I only use 2 almond fangs. Again, feel free to improvise.

Carefully place the cherries and almonds on top of the mounds of cake dough and press them in lightly. Bake in the oven until golden brown. Mine cooked very quickly – in around 13 minutes -but it will depend on your oven. Keep a close eye – when they smell delicious and look golden brown, remove them to a cooling tray.

Cheese, Onion and Potato Pasty

This week is a momentous one in British history. Nope, not because Royal Ascot is taking place behind closed doors. It is a magnificent week, because Thursday will mark the glorious reopening of Greggs pie and pasty shop

One of Britain’s most popular stuffed pastry chains, Greggs is rumoured to have a huge branch located inside top-secret-spy-listening station, GCHQ. But if you can’t wait until Thursday to enjoy a Secret-Service-approved snack –  here is a recipe for an easy and delicious potato, cheese and onion pasty.

Pastry bores will say “Actually, it’s not a pasty, it’s a ‘slice’ “. Whatever. You can call it “Mary” or “Horace” for all I care.

But do make this recipe.  The combination of  delicious, flavoursome filling trapped in a casing of light puff pastry, makes this the perfect snack for a socially distanced picnic.

Socially Distanced Slice

1 packet ready rolled puff pastry (the type with built in baking parchment is the best)

1 large potato

1 medium onion

150g tasty/mature cheddar cheese (the stronger, the better)

1 tbsp finely chopped parsley

1 tsp Dijon mustard

1/2 tsp smoked paprika

Sea salt and ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 175C

Peel the potato and chop into small cubes. Grate the onion on the coarse setting of the grater.

Put a little oil into a frying pan and fry the potato cubes over a medium heat until they are lightly browned, but not completely cooked through (you want them to retain some bite in the pasty). Drain and place in a large bowl.

Add a little more oil to the pan and lightly fry the onion until just starting to cook (1 or 2 minutes).  No, you can’t cook it at the same time as the potato – don’t even think about it.

Place in the bowl with the potato and leave to cool.

Grate the cheddar and add to the bowl along with the spices and mustard and parsley. Stir through until nicely combined.  You can cover and refrigerate ready to cook later, if you like. The filling needs to be cool/cold when you put it in the pastry. If the filling is warm, the pastry will start to melt and become greasy.

Unroll the puff pastry and cut into 4 strips.

Place a heaped tablespoon of filling on the lower half of each pastry strip. Leave a gap of about 1/2 cm at the edges. Get a pastry brush and paint the edges of the puff pastry with water. Fold the pastry over to make an oblong. Use the tines of  a fork to seal the edges. Now take a sharp knife and make three slashes in the front of the pasty – this is to let the steam escape when cooking.

If you have used home made, or chilled puff pastry,  you can freeze the pasties at this point and then cook from frozen as you need them. If you have used frozen puff pastry (but want to freeze them for later) cook first, cool then freeze.

Put the pasties onto a baking tray lined with baking parchment. If your puff pastry came with parchment, then use that – don’t cut a new piece.

Cook at 175C for ten minutes – just to get the filling going. Turn the temperature up to 200C and cook until the pastry has risen and is a lovely golden brown. Try not to eat the pasties the second they come out of the oven, as the filling will be like lava. Great warm, or cold.

 

 

The Best Ratatouille

I love a short cut in the kitchen, as long as it gives great results – but some recipes need to be followed to the letter. Ratatouille, a delicious stew of aubergine, courgette, pepper and tomato, is a dish that looks relatively simple – but takes a bit of work. It is worth it though.

Over the years I have dabbled with different ratatouille recipes to save time. I have added the veg, in stages, to a large casserole pan and stewed them into a pulpy mush. Taking inspiration from that most suburban of side dishes: “Roasted Mediterranean Vegetables” (a lazy tray-bake of nightshades and squashes) I have roasted courgettes, aubergines and peppers in the oven, before combining them with tomato and onion sauce. The roasted veg were spiky and wizened; their tough skins and pulpy centres conflicting in texture. The sauce slid off their leathery hides into a disdainful puddle. It was a disaster.

Ratatouille should be silky and delightful in the mouth. Each component should retain its own characteristics, whilst collaborating with the other ingredients to make a meaningful union.  I have found that the best way to achieve this, is to cook ratatouille the more fiddly, French way.

I inherited my mother’s 1976 copy of “Mastering the Art of French Cooking”  – a two volume paperback set, written by Simone Beck, Louisette Berthold and Julia Child. It is probably the best cooking guide that I own.

My mother used their recipe to make ratatouille from our home-grown summer vegetables. I remember it taking a while to make something that seemed like a side-show at a barbecue. But it was delicious.

The main rules are: cook the star ingredients separately; once assembled – don’t stir – just let the dish simmer through.

If you have amazing artistic skills – you could arrange the courgette and aubergine slices far more prettily than I have. This is an adaptation of the recipe – but it follows the main rules.

Now that we will be allowed to gather in gardens for barbecues and picnics, this dish would make a great accompaniment for grilled meats – and would also be delicious with a hunk of someone’s lockdown sourdough for a vegan lunch. Ratatouille can be cooked in advance and keeps well in the fridge for a couple of days.

If you are used to wolfing huge bowls of watery stewed veg – be aware: this recipe is pretty rich and satisfying.

Old School Ratatouille

Plenty of good olive oil

Table salt

Sea salt

2 courgettes, cut into rounds 2/3 cm thick

1 large aubergine, halved lengthways and cut into half moons -about 1/2 cm thickness. If the aubergine seems a bit tough -then peel first. I usually leave the peel on, or peel in stripes for a variation of texture

1 large white onion – the milder the better – cut into slim, quarter moon slices

1 red pepper, de-seeded, halved, roasted in the oven and skin removed, then cut into thumb-sized slices

2 cloves crushed garlic

1 tin chopped tomatoes

Freshly ground black pepper

3 tbsp chopped flat-leafed parsley, or a mix of parsley and coriander (my favourite)

Equipment – a large frying pan with a lid. A casserole dish that goes on the stove ( 3 inches deep, ideally, but you can use a bigger one). If you don’t have a casserole – you can reuse the frying pan with a lid.

Start by placing the sliced courgettes and aubergines into a large bowl. Sprinkle with table salt, leave for 30 minutes. Drain, rinse and pat each slice dry with kitchen paper. This is laborious,  but does make a difference.

Take a frying pan, heat some olive oil and fry the aubergine slices in batches until lightly browned on each side. Place in a dish lined with kitchen paper and cover with another layer of paper to absorb excess oil.

Add some more oil to the pan and do the same with the courgettes. Remove to another dish lined and topped with kitchen paper.

Add a little more oil to the pan, if necessary, then stew the onions and peppers over a low heat for about 10 minutes.  Add the garlic and season with some sea salt and pepper.

Carefully pour the contents of the tomato tin over the onions. Cover the pan and cook for 5 minutes on a low heat. Remove the lid, spoon any juice from the sides over the top of the tomatoes, increase the heat and cook until the juice has evaporated.

Take the casserole and spread 1/3 of the tomato and onion mixture over the base. If you are reusing your frying pan – tip out all the tomatoes first and then reassemble.

Sprinkle the tomato mix with 1/3 of the chopped parsley.  Top with half of the courgettes and aubergines arranged prettily (or just haphazardly like my photo). Put another 1/3 of the tomatoes and parsley on top, then the rest of the courgettes and aubergines, then finish with the last of the tomatoes and parsley.

Put the lid on and cook on a low heat for 10 minutes. DO NOT STIR Take the lid off and using a tablespoon, carefully collect the juices from the pan and pour over the top. Tilt the pan to help get hold of them.

Take the lid off and cook for another 15 minutes. DO NOT STIR. Collect the juices from time to time and pour over the top. Be vigilant and make sure that the bottom doesn’t catch. When there is just a little, tomato-coloured oil in the pan, the dish is ready. Season with sea salt and pepper.

This tastes best served at room temperature. If you want to reheat it – then do it really slowly over a low flame.

Cooling Carrot Salad

It’s going to be hot today -and I suspect the supermarkets will sell out of salad leaves and tomatoes fairly quickly. So here is a recipe for a delicious salad made from non-greenhouse vegetables.

I had four rather flabby carrots in the bottom of the vegetable box -with skin that looked chapped and dry, like hands that have been washed too frequently. After a quick peel and a chop, a freshen up with some orange juice, a spritz of perfume from some fresh coriander and a nice bit of crunch from crushed peanuts -these carrots looked beautiful and could grace the most glamorous picnic or barbecue table.

I use a mandolin to cut the carrot into matchsticks. I wouldn’t grate it -it gets too watery. If you don’t have a mandolin then cut the carrots by hand. It’s a bit dull, but worth it for the lovely crunchy texture.

Scorchio! Cooling Carrot Salad

4 large carrots, peeled and julienned

1 handful roasted and salted peanuts

juice of one orange /small glass of long-life orange juice

1 tbsp chopped fresh coriander/substitute for parsley for the ‘haters’

a little salt

Place the carrots in a bowl, sprinkle with  little salt and pour over the orange juice, stirring to make sure they are nicely covered.

Put the peanuts into a Ziploc or small plastic bag and wallop with a rolling pin/back of a cleaver until crushed

Add the peanuts to the carrots and stir. Sprinkle with chopped coriander.

 

 

Two Ways With Leftover Veg: Bubble And Squeak Reimagined

There are two basic principles to observe when avoiding food waste: Use all the fresh ingredients that you buy and find ways to use up leftover, cooked food.

I had about half a head of cooked broccoli florets and six baby new potatoes left over from Easter lunch. The traditional British method of despatching cooked vegetables after a “Sunday Roast” is to chop them up, mix them together and shallow fry as a patty. Common leftovers would be boiled cabbage (as no one really likes it) and roast potatoes. The dish became known as “Bubble and squeak” because of the strange cries that cabbage lets out as it is subdued into a crispy disc in the pan. This dish was usually served on a Monday, with slices of leftover, cold, roast meat.

Bubble and squeak has been popular in the UK since the 19th century -but I don’t like it. It feels cheap and mean and listless.

I never serve boiled cabbage, but always cook broccoli to accompany roast meat- as it is one of the few vegetables everyone in the family will eat. And yet, I’m not hugely keen on broccoli as a leftover – there is something rather damp and whiffy about it. I feel like I need to hide it away and drown out its weird pong with some strident flavours.

Taking bubble and squeak as a starting point, I roughly chopped the cooked broccoli and potato and mixed them together. I decided it would be fun to make pastry parcels, and some kind of fritter.

Initially, I had thought of seasoning the vegetable mixture with Indian or North African flavours – but decided against it. So many of my recipes are heavily spiced, I felt it would be a pleasant change to go for something  to suit a more delicate palate; something more British.

The image of a potato, cheese and onion pasty became fixed in my mind, so I chose classic British flavours – English mustard and strong Cheddar cheese, to pair with the broccoli and potato. Instead of wrapping the mixture in thick pastry and baking it in the oven, I chose thin filo pastry, which I then deep fried to give a splintering exterior – a nice textural counterpoint to the soft, rich and comforting filling. Making the triangles is a little bit fiddly, but well worth the trouble. They are delicious served with the labneh from the previous post, a dollop of sweet chilli sauce or a tomato chutney

For those who might not enjoy pastry, or who want a quick and simple fix for leftover vegetables, I have included a recipe inspired by pakora. The basic vegetable mixture is combined with gram flour, formed into balls and deep fried. To make these vegan, simply replace the cheese with a non-dairy equivalent, or just leave out completely.

Reimagined Bubble And Squeak

1 packet Filo pastry sheets

8 florets cooked broccoli

6 cooked baby new potatoes

1 large onion, chopped

100g grated Cheddar (as strong as you can find)

1 tsp dried mustard powder

sea salt and pepper

2 tbsp chick pea flour (gram flour)

a little water.

Dice the broccoli and potatoes and mix together. Fry the onion in a little oil until translucent. Add to the broccoli and potato mix. Sprinkle over the grated cheese and dried mustard – stir well. Season liberally with salt and pepper.

 

Pastry Triangles

Take a sheet of filo pastry and fold it in half to make a long, thin oblong. Place a teaspoonful of filling off centre, approx. 1.5 cm from end of pastry nearest your dominant hand (I am right-handed so I work from right to left. It will be the opposite for left-handed people). Fold over the corner of pastry to cover filling. Fold the wrapped fillingover to give a triangular shape and continue folding the triangle, until all the length of the pastry is used up. Tuck in the edges to make a neat parcel and to ensure none of the filling escapes during cooking..

Deep fry at 170-180C until the pastry is golden brown. Drain on plenty of kitchen paper.

Crispy Balls

Stir the gram flour into the vegetable mixture. Add a splash of water and stir through. You want the mixture to be very sticky, but not runny. Using two dessert spoons, form the mixture into  balls and place into the deep fryer. Cook at 170C until crispy and brown.  Drain on kitchen paper.

Zero Waste Dish – How To Make Soft Cheese From Yoghurt

There has been quite a bit of competitive bread baking since lockdown began, with beautiful photographs of tanned, sourdough loaves appearing across social media feeds. But there hasn’t been as much cheesemaking  – so I thought I would start a trend.

Here is a simple recipe for a sharp, low-fat, soft cheese. It uses only two ingredients and is ready after 24 hours. If you have some natural yoghurt that is approaching its sell by date – this is a great way to ensure it doesn’t go to waste.

Known as labneh, this yoghurt cheese has about half the fat and calories of cream cheese, with an appealing, sour-sharp taste that pairs equally well with savoury and fruit toppings.

You can add flavour by sprinkling the labneh with spices, fresh herbs, chopped olives, toasted nuts – but I like to keep it fairly simple. I just add some fresh thyme leaves, lemon zest and a glug of olive oil.

Labneh works well spread on sourdough toast (if you have been joining in the competitive baking trend) then topped with a simple tomato and red onion salad.

Labneh: Home Made Yoghurt Cheese

For the labneh

1 large pot (500g) natural, low fat yoghurt

1 tsp salt

Zest of one lemon

1 tbsp fresh thyme leaves

Good olive oil to finish

Alternative flavourings: oregano, chopped mint, za’atar (dried wild thyme), chopped, toasted pistachos/almonds/hazelnuts, minced olives, chopped chives/wild garlic, pesto, pomegranate seeds, toasted sunflower seeds etc.

For the tomato salad

3 large vine tomatoes (the most flavourful ones you can get your hands on)

1/2 red onion, finely chopped

Sea salt

1 tsp sumac (replace with chopped basil, or a pinch of za’atar, fresh oregano – whatever you have that is fragrant and goes with tomatoes)

Take a large mixing bowl and place a sieve over the top. Line the sieve with a cheesecloth (or a brand new J cloth). Tip in the yoghurt and sprinkle over the salt.

Gather up the corners of the cloth and twist. Clip closed. Place a plate with a can on it on top of the cheesecloth ball. This will help to press out the excess liquid.

After 24 hours, carefully unwrap the cheese and place in a bowl. Stir through the lemon zest and thyme leaves. At this point you can roll it into small balls, put in a container and cover with olive oil – or just simply put in a bowl and pour some olive oil over the top.

To make the salad, chop the tomatoes, discarding seeds. Mix with the red onion. Sprinkle with sea salt and sumac and leave to sit, so the flavours can develop.

Serve the labneh spread on sourdough toast and topped with the tomato.

Sunshine Salad: Céleri rémoulade

Today’s lockdown recipe is one that I have been meaning to post for ages. This dish features one of my favourite vegetables: a big, gnarled sphere which grows underground but tastes of sunshine –  the celeriac.

Céleri rémoulade  is a popular French salad made with grated celeriac and tangy mustard and lemon mayonnaise. It is simple to make and delicious and aromatic to eat.

I have made a version with added chopped capers and cornichons. It was perfectly delicious -but I prefer this simpler recipe. Celeriac has such a fragrant, nutty flavour – it seems a shame to over power it with harsh pickled things

While making this salad, I realised I didn’t have any grainy mustard, so compromised with Dijon and a teaspoon of toasted black mustard seeds (which you can see in the pic). It worked perfectly well and saved me a naughty, non-essential trip to the shops.

Feel free to add some chopped parsley or chives (or spring onion tops) if you can’t cope with the pallor. Céleri rémoulade pairs really well with oily fish, charcuterie and grilled meats – but is also wonderful on a slice of sourdough bread. A tablespoon of cream or fromage frais gives this salad more depth -and makes it more indulgent..

Sunny Celeriac Salad

1/2 celeriac, peeled and coarsely grated (or use a mandolin for a more matchstick effect)

Juice of 1 lemon

2-3 tbsp good mayonnaise (you can make your own, if you are flush with eggs and oil)

1 dessert spoonful of grainy mustard

Sea salt

Pepper

1tbsp chopped parsley or chives, to garnish

Place the celeriac in a large bowl and sprinkle with half the lemon juice. This helps to stop it discolouring – it has rather sensitive flesh, that darkens quickly when cut.

Mix the remaining juice with the mayonnaise and mustard – taste and season with salt and pepper. Pour over the celeriac and stir well until coated. Leave it to infuse for about half an hour so the flavours develop nicely. Sprinkle with chopped herbs and serve.

 

 

 

Fishy Fakery: Jackfruit “Crab” Tacos

The number of vegetarians and vegans in the UK has risen over the last 5 years and UK supermarkets have responded. My local stores now have dedicated vegan areas, full of plant-based burgers (which bleed beetroot ‘blood’) and ‘meats’ fashioned out of wheat and soya.

One very recent addition to the pretend meat display is jackfruit, formed into strings and slathered with sweet smoky sauce, to be used as a substitute for that ubiquitous street food: “barbecued pulled pork”. The jackfruit version has been a hit with the UK’s burgeoning vegan and vegetarian population.

A jackfruit is a large, ball-shaped, armadillo-skinned, yellowish-green fruit – much like a durian in appearance, but without that “signature” scent. If you split a jackfruit, the flesh is held in pockets around a fibrous white core.

Popular across Asia, ripe jackfruit is sweet and fragrant – like banana or mango. I find it slightly too rich in flavour. However, unripe flesh is the jackfruit’s secret weapon: with a chewy texture and the lightest flavour, young jackfruit makes a versatile meat-substitute for vegetarian and vegan dishes.

I bought a pack of “barbecued pulled jackfruit pork” from the supermarket, but found it completely repellent. It had an overpowering odour of garlic salt, was far too sweet and tasted of artificial liquid smoke flavouring – the culinary equivalent of vaping. This jackfruit pulled pork was the definition of ersatz. Not pork. Not barbecued. Just dreadful.

I had eaten a jackfruit curry some years ago in India, which was completely delicious, so had nothing against the fruit itself -it was just its incarnation as a barbecued faux meat that didn’t work for me. However -the weird stringy texture of this pretend pulled pork  got me thinking –  jackfruit could work quite well as a shellfish substitute….

A while back I blogged about the difficulty of finding decent vegetarian seafood substitutes. I read about people making tuna out of chickpeas (haven’t tried yet, but it sounds deeply suspect) and watched umpteen YouTube videos about battered “fish” made out of banana blossom.

I decided to have a go at creating a crab salad out of jackfruit, as I felt its light flavour and delicate texture could work perfectly. I used canned unripe jackfruit pieces in brine, not just because getting my hands on an enormous fresh jackfruit might be tricky in North Cambridgeshire, but also for convenience. The results were excellent – and the jackfruit crab salad made delicious “fish” tacos.

Jackfruit “Crab” Tacos

1 can unripe jackfruit in brine, rinsed and patted dry with kitchen paper

2-4 tablespoons of mayonnaise or vegan mayonnaise substitute

1/2 finely chopped onion

lime juice

Pinch dry mustard powder

Pinch smoked paprika

Sea salt

Ground black pepper

½ tsp white sugar

Salt and pepper to taste

Freshly chopped parsley 1 tbsp

1 very finely diced celery stick (optional)

Cut the jackfruit pieces into small slices, discarding any strange seeds that you might find. Use the back of a fork to separate the flesh into more feathery stringy sections.

I have included some very finely diced celery because I think it adds another dimension of crab-salad-flavour to the mixture -but do leave out if you prefer.

Place two tablespoons of mayonnaise into a large bowl and add all the ingredients except for salt pepper and lime and jackfruit. Mix well. Carefully fold in the shredded jackfruit until it is well covered. If it looks a bit dry (or you just fancy it a more creamy and rich salad) add more mayonnaise. Taste, then add salt pepper and lime juice until you have the seasoning and acidity which pleases you best.

Serve in a warmed taco shell with shredded white cabbage (marinated in rice wine vinegar, sugar and salt) and a salsa made from tomatoes, cucumber and lemon juice.

 

 

Reinterpreting Roast Lamb

Welsh lamb salad with rosemary and chive flowers

Rosemary flowers

Chive flower

The weather in Britain has been erratic. It’s always erratic -an oxymoron which sums up much of our country’s charm. The unpredictable weather explains both why we have such ridiculous hues of green in our verdant countryside, and why Brits peel off all of their clothes and sit in the park at the first glimpse of sun, then wear their sunburn like a hero’s suit of armour.

It has been pretty hot this May –  sales of barbecue meats and strawberries have been soaring. Trays of ready-marinated pork chops, burgers scented with fruit, and minced, spiced red meat wrapped around sticks are filling supermarket trolleys, leaving those more traditional “roast” cuts of meat sitting forlornly on the shelves.

I found a miniature boned shoulder of organic Welsh spring lamb looking lonely, as I walked past a throng of scarlet-shouldered, tattooed-chested men scrabbling over packs of minted lamb burgers and chipotle chicken wings. I decided to take this lamb joint, roast it and serve with familiar roast lamb companions -just in a slightly more summery setting.

The whole idea was triggered by my rather histrionic rosemary plant, which for the last two years has looked as if it was on the brink of death. Its needles are anaemic and dusty, its branches spindly and close to withering. Two weeks ago it blossomed producing hundreds of delicate, lavender-like blooms. I tasted one and was delighted to find it  had the light but distinct flavour of rosemary with a more delicate texture than the sharp, leathery leaves. About the same time, a forgotten pot of chives threw out a large bulbous protrusion filled with tiny pink allium-scented flowers and I decided to use both. After all – it is Chelsea Flower Show this week

I wanted to capture the flavours of a traditional Sunday lunch of roast lamb -rosemary, garlic, potatoes, peas -but to create a warm salad that would be light enough for our scorching May days, yet substantial enough to offset the random days (like today) with chilly, heavy rains.

The dressing is made simply by mixing the juices from the roasting pan (and the lamb after it has been left to stand) with lemon juice, salt and pepper. That sounds rather prim and pared down, until I explain that I “Mary Berry” the new potatoes: that is,  dress them while still warm in an indulgent mixture of olive oil, white wine vinegar, mustard, sugar salt and pepper -so that there are small islands of  rich, carby naughtiness amongst the pretty leaves and micro flowers and tender slices of spring lamb. “What about the lettuce?” asked my husband, “How does that translate from a roast to a salad?”. “It doesn’t” I replied. “But it is called ‘Lamb’s Lettuce’ -so that’s enough of a link for me”.

 

Spring Lamb Salad With May Flowers

450g mini shoulder joint of Welsh lamb

1 small packet pea shoots, washed and dried

1 small packet lamb’s lettuce, washed and dried

1 chive flower head separated into individual blooms

15 rosemary flowers

1 small packet Jersey Royal new potatoes (500g), halved

1 teaspoon mustard

1 heaped tsp caster sugar

3 tbsp. olive oil

2 tbsp. white wine vinegar

sea salt

black pepper

juice of one lemon

 

Make sure the lamb is at room temperature (take it out of the fridge for about 1 hour before cooking and unwrap it). Rub it all over with some sea salt and freshly ground black pepper.

Place a tablespoon of vegetable oil into a frying pan and when hot, sear the lamb on all sides until the surface goes a light brown colour. Move to a roasting pan, cover the pan with foil and then cook in a preheated oven at 150C for about 1 hour (I like it to be nice and red in the middle -add another 15 minutes if you like it well done). Remove the foil for the last ten minutes of cooking time,  put the joint on a plate to rest – then cover with the foil again. Pour the juices from the roasting pan into a bowl and mix with the lemon juice.

While the lamb is cooking boil the potatoes until tender.  In a large bowl whisk the oil, white wine vinegar, mustard sugar and add some sea salt and pepper. Drain the potatoes and add immediately to this mixture, turning them with a tablespoon to make sure that they are well dressed.

Choose a generous sized serving plate and cover with a mixture of lamb’s lettuce and pea shoots. Dot the potatoes evenly (or haphazardly -if you want to be erratically British about it) and drizzle any leftover Mary Berry-ness over the leaves.

Carve the lamb into thin slices and distribute over the leaves. Add any extra lamb juices from the resting plate to the roasting pan/lemon mixture -stir well and pour over the salad, following with a sprinkle of sea salt and pepper.  Finally scatter the rosemary and chive blossoms over the top of the salad for a fragrant, beautiful tribute to May weather.

Chive flower

Welsh lamb salad with rosemary and chive flowers

Rosemary flowers

 

Pious Pizza

I find the “clean-eating” movement incredibly tiresome, but it can’t be ignored. Rising numbers of self-absorbed, anxious people are choosing to dodge dairy, shy away from gluten and squeal at the sight of a grain of sugar. Rather than sneering from afar –  I have decided to knuckle down and make some of the disgusting-sounding, but healthy recipes which seem to flood my inbox.

A couple of days ago I received a recipe which called for “cauliflower bread”. Channelling Peter Kay , I muttered to myself in disgust, whilst blitzing a whole head of cauliflower into tiny maggoty grains. I love cauliflower very much – but have a strong aversion to vegetables in baked goods -so was not confident about this recipe. However, I made the bread, sandwiched two pieces of it together with some mashed avocado, fried it in some coconut oil and, although nothing remotely like the “grilled cheese style panini” it was pretending to be, the cauliflower-based sandwich was actually quite pleasant in a weird and worthy way.

Although a lot of clean-eaters are self-flagellating types who enjoy denying themselves pleasure, not all of them can be entirely ghastly – there must be a few who have dirty dreams about pizzas and nachos. I decided to see if the cauliflower bread could double as a pizza crust.

 

To keep the pizza dairy-free, I monkeyed around with soaked cashew nuts and basil to create a “cheesy” topping  which I poured over a rich, wine-laced tomato sauce, some  juicy courgettes and mushrooms. The results were very pleasing -the crust held together well and did not taste strongly of cauliflower.  The pizza tasted indulgent and healthy at the same time – perfect!

If you want to make this pizza vegan, use an egg replacer in the crust; if you want to make it even more virtuous, leave the wine out of the sauce -but if you do ditch the wine, then remember this saying: “Kill all my demons, and some of my angels will die too”….

Clean Lean and Serene Pizza

1 large cauliflower

50g ground almonds

50g whole almonds with their skins, blitzed to a powder in the food processor

1 egg

Large pinch dried mustard powder

1 tin chopped tomatoes

1/2 red onion, finely chopped

1 tsp dried oregano

1 glass red wine

1 large courgette, sliced lengthways into 3 inch pieces

1 large Portobello mushroom coarsely chopped

1/2 red onion sliced

1 cup raw cashews soaked for at least 1 hour in 1 cup of water

1 handful fresh basil leaves

Juice of one lemon

Preheat the oven to 140c

Roughly chop the cauliflower, removing the stalk and leaves. Blitz in batches in the food processor until it is the size of short grain rice. Place the blitzed cauliflower into a clean tea towel and squeeze out as much liquid as you can over the sink. Now put the cauliflower into a large mixing bowl, add the two different almond powders, the egg and mustard powder and mix well. Season with salt and pepper. Line a pizza tray with baking parchment and press the cauliflower mixture into a circle using your fingers.

Bake in the oven for 40-50 minutes until golden.

Meanwhile make the tomato sauce by frying the chopped onion in a tablespoon of good olive oil. Add the tomatoes, wine and oregano and reduce. You want the sauce to be thick, as the cauliflower base will not stand up to large amounts of liquid.

Add the soaked cashews, lemon juice, basil and a small cup of water to a blender and blitz. Taste, and add salt. The texture should be that of a thick liquid

Spread the tomato sauce evenly over the pizza base. Top with the raw courgettes, mushrooms and sliced onions. You could precook these, but I find by adding them to the pizza raw, they provide a juicy, almost meaty texture. Pour the cheese sauce over the pizza and scatter a few basil leaves on top along with a swirl or two of olive oil.

Turn the oven up to 160C and return the pizza for around 15 minutes. When the courgettes and mushrooms are nicely cooked, then the pizza is ready. Allow to sit for a few minutes before eating. It is also really good cold, for breakfast.