Cheese on toast....or is it????

Sometimes melancholia renders cooking obselete. Now I know I am now advocating kitchen comfort or stimulation as the Great Solution to divorce and its corresponding ills. But the sad fact is that those down-right foetal moments still require fuel, well fuel that doesn't come from a bottle anyway. So- cheese on toast it is, well actually, it's not. It is cheese- I used Cheddar or as our Australian cousins would say "Tasty" cheese. Because what I actually did was preheat my oven to about 200 degrees and get out a baking tray which I then lined with baking paper. I already feel like crap and quite frankly I do not need undone washing up to remind me that housekeeping is something I am not going to be remembered by. I the took a rustic ciabatta style roll which I split into two pieces. I drizzled the cut pieces with olive oil ( I KNOW but the heart and the stomach, quite frankly want what they want- just go with it for now, plenty of time to get macrobiotic later). The aforesaid cheese is then drizzled on top of the cut side and sprinkled furiously ( and I do mean that) with freshly ground black pepper. Then, and this is crucial- I applied a few splashes of Worcestor sauce to each piece. You may think you dont like this stuff, believe me, it makes this comfort meal feel special It's the difference between drinking a chilled Swedish made cider brewed with fresh strawberries, or getting a warm bottle ( plastic for sure) of Strongbow in terms of your self esteem the morning after. Now consider getting into P.Js, or if you have been wearing them all day, put on new ones, a shower wouldn't go amiss either. Now the cleaning up of yourself, the fresh clothes, these will all aid recovery. But the crisp, yet yielding ( the roll, it has more substance than mere bread, it can handle the truth,( she says a la J Nicholson) albeit of a hot oven) melted, slightly scorched snack will be ready. Put on a TV show that makes you happy, or some music. Eat, allow yourself to enjoy, and then perhaps go to bed. Tomorrow as my old mucca Scarlett used to say - fist raised to the sky as God is her witness- is another day. And she didn't get to eat scrummy melted piquant cheese spiked with black pepper on a crisp, chewy, yielding roll. Maybe that's why she looked so good in a corset. Thank god for Christian Hendricks, I fear I may enter a 'curves' stage before we emerge from this tunnel. Sweet Dreams.

Fish and Farewells.

My Mum left yesterday, and what with Christmas and New year we hadn't really got round to making ourselves any really enjoyable meals. My Mum doesn't like much food, as in quantity, but she does love eating simple well flavoured meals. So I bought 750g of green ( raw) banana prawns and delved around the cupboard for something that would be more interesting than the usual boiled versions, which always, however well flavoured, seem to need perking up with something. I heated a large pan until hot, then poured in a generous glug of oil to which I added 2 cloves of grated garlic, about a thumbs worth of grated ginger and one red chilli, deseeded and finely chopped. After hearing a rather satisfying sizzle I tipped in the green prawns, still in their shells, and stirred furiously. You want the garlic and ginger to caremelise a little, but you dont want them to burn. Once the prawns had changed coulour and were looking like some of the marinading ingredients were sticking rather satifyingly to their nooks and crannies I added the juice of 2 limes. This in turn makes sure the prawns are cooked, and encourages then to release their own juices- all the better for mopping up with some crusty bread! I then heaped the prawns with some bread into soup bowls and provided napkins and a large plate for the shells. I served with some of the aforementioned crusty bread and a scattering of coriander added at the last minute so it wilted in the prawn's heat. Delicious. A perfect meal to say goodbye with, as you are so busy sorting out peeling your own prawns and disposing of shells and enjoying their wondrousness, that you forget to get teary. That comes later.

Divorce and the Kitchen Salvation Project

Well, obviously cooking has not been at the forefront of my mind lately. Not cooking for pleasure anyway. Put simply; divorce sucks. If ever I see any celebrities chirping happily about how they remain amicable whilst divorcing I shall laugh in a hollow, sardonic fashion to myself because I now know the sad truth that such a thing is impossible. It does lead to endless dull dinners because in a perverse parody of the multi-million make-up giant's exhortation you believe "you're worth it". Well I have decided that this blogging project, if read only by me shall serve as a distraction from real life, and a call to arms towards made me passionate in the first place: food.
So, today I have enlisted two sous chefs. My children. They shall help inspire me towards more interesting meals, which will be far more fun to read about, with the added bonus that they-too- shall be able to cook. To be honest I kind of have Jamie Oliver to thank. His 'Thirty Minute Meals' so tickled my son that he was inspired to give one a go. Just the pride and enthusiasm he had for the result made me realise just how much pleasure I had been, wilfully, denying myself by seeing the kitchen as a no-go zone. So I am back.
Food is so much more than fuel, it defines who we are, and how we feel about ourselves, and the reality is that when we feel bad about ourselves we neglect to treat ourselves with kindness or provide ourselves with pleasure. So I am going to begin a vigourous programme of making myself cook, and cook lovely things as well, and then enjoying them - hoping that this process will restore some much needed self esteem.
So I shall begin with the last lovely thing I cooked, because it was at a dinner with two girlfriends and I really had fun. Both the gals in question are vegetarians, and I remembered somewhere seeing a recipe for baked stuffed squash. The major problem with this is finding squash that are small enough to provide a meal for one person, but large enough to survive the hollowing, filling and baking process whilst still looking fairly robust. I won't lie, there will probably be too much food. But save it for another day, or puree it with some stock into a soup for lunch the morning after.
For each person ( 4) you will need one small squash or pumpkin. A bit larger than your fist, but no smaller.
To prepare them, wash thoroughly, then cut a lid from the top. Hollow out the innards and rinse out the pumpkin or squash. then place on a lightly oiled baking tray whilst you make the filling.
Then finely chop 1 onion and 2 cloves of garlic. Sweat in some oil or butter ( depending on your health or vegetarian desires) over a medium to low heat until soft and fragrant. Then add about 500g of finely chopped mushrooms. You can use plain old buttons, but obviously if you choose to use more exciting mushrooms it will only add to the end result.  Let this mixture cook down until the mushrooms have released their moisture, then add a good glug of either brandy or white wine. Cook on a high heat so that it reduces to a mixture which coats the vegetables instead of drowning them, then add some cream. You don't need much really, I would say about 100- 150 mls. Season at this point and add 2 tablespoons of fresh thyme and the zest of one lemon. Reduce again. Check for seasoning-it will have to flavour the pumpkin or squash so be generous- before filling your hollowed pumpkins and placing their lids on. Put into an oven you have heated to about 175 degrees, and cook for at least 45 minutes, but even up to an hour and a quarter. Test the pumpkin or squash with the tip of a knife- they should feel soft. Serve with something to cut through the richness, a green or chicory salad with an acidic dressing perhaps. Best enjoyed with friends, and laughter, as indeed are all things.

Sweet Endings.

I realise after checking my entries that I almost never make desserts. Come to think of it I need some sort of triumphant fanfare when I eat them. However, this dessert is excellent, it tastes like the work of hours, and is so ridiculously easy that when I made it for a friend recently she told me a few weeks later that she was still marvelling at it for both taste and convenience. It comes from Constance Spry, and is as wonderful as any of her recipes. If you ever come upon a Constance Spry cookbook I do advise you to pick it up. They are the most wonderful social documents as well as having some fantastic recipes. I have dabbled- of course- I have an absolute horror of doing anything a la minute, and would much prefer to have dishes ready to pop in a low oven to reheat whilst I eat one course, than prepare them at the end of the meal with all eyes upon me. It is very parsimonious as well, and really, I had bread to use up and was in need of the comfort of something rich and sweet. For once I WAS the cliche I am afraid. I had about 2/3 of a loaf of white packety bread, from which I removed the crusts and cut it into fingers. These were placed in an ovenproof dish. Then I made the sauce which is childs play quite frankly. In a small saucepan put 4ox/100g of butter, 40z/100g of brown sugar, and 8oz/200g of golden syrup.. Heat gently together until they come to the boil and are golden brown. At the same time bring up 1/2 pint/250ml of full cream milk. When the milk comes to the boil, remove it from the heat, and pour onto the toffee mixture. Pour everything on top of the bread fingers and do make sure they all have a lovely coating then sprinkle some extra sugar on top and set aside until you wish to eat. When you do, place the pudding into a warm oven, about 175 degrees, and cook for about 15-20 minutes until everything is hot and the top has crisped up. Serve with double cream, to sighs of pleasure and the relief that contained within each bite is the knowledge that really, life isn't all that bad after all.

Ok, I never said I was reliable...did I?

Alright, it's been ages. And I should have a decent excuse, I mean I have eaten, pretty much continuously since I last wrote. But a new job, and a strangely compelling thesis deadline have made me fear writing ANYTHING so very much. But I am back, or at least I think I am, and that will serve for now. How have you, been good? Today is Sunday, and we all know what that means, it means I was trying to impress my brother...again. Well actually after a weekend when a decent meal seemed comprised of, and before I say this I am NOT proud of it , O.K.?, a weight watchers ( shut up) lasagne, or crackers and some cheese of dubious vintage from the fridge, I had let everything go, you do see? But enough is enough, so off to the store to tempt my jaded appetite, I had read Jamie Oliver's "Jamie's America" to inspire myself, so when I spotted the ribs, I was sold.
As usual, I did not have all the ingredients, I hadn't made a list. But everything I have read about ribs lately seems to suggest that it is cooking methods as opposed to rubs and spices that make a difference. Oliver's method is time consuming, but not difficult, and you really only need time ( or if you are working, a timer to alert you when  you are engrossed in work) I just rubbed the ribs with a mixture of smoked paprika ( a tablespoon), fennel seeds( tablespoon smashed to oblivion in the pestle and mortar), dried thyme ( a teaspoon), and 2 cloves of garlic finely grated.  I was meant to add the zest of one orange ( I didn't have one) and pepper( I forgot) but anyway I rubbed this mixture onto the ribs and put them in a low oven ( 150 degrees) for 1 and1/2 hours , ater that Oliver suggest encasing them in foil and pouring apple juice into the packets before leaving them for another hour and a half to steam and cook, I used this great drink of apple juice,vodka and ginger with a couple of shards of fresh ginger and some freshly ground black pepper( I remembered!!!) Then dutifully wrapped up the parcels, and left them for the hour and a half. I also threw in a couple of large potatoes into the oven, and prepared corn by stripping it, smearing it in butter, rolling in finely chopped coriander and wrapping it in foil.
 Anyway after the hour and a half, in went the corn, the ribs were basted in barbeque sauce, I used about 3 large tablespoons of Hoi Sin Sauce, 2 finely grated cloves of garlic, I tablespoon of finely grated fresh ginger, 1 tablespoon of soy, 2 of sesame seed oil, and 2 of sweet chilli, and honey.  They were then put back into a slightly hotter oven, about 175 degrees, for half an hour.
 Everything came out of the oven together, I broke my drought , and I am BACK baby. Incidentally it was sublime.

Impressing the unimpressable....

Well I tried, I really did, and I did recieve a more enthusiastic response, albeit with the same words. As usual.
So I had a free range organic chicken thankyouverymuch. After that I looked about and saw I had white wine ( anyone who is even slightly surprised has not been reading I am afraid), onions, carrots, celery and celeriac, garlic and green peppercorns.
So I decided to poach the chicken whole, a la Nigella Lawson's 'praised' chicken from 'Kitchen' with the aforementioned vegetables and serve with a celeriac and potato puree.
 It's not much work really, for all my talk of impressing...you crush the chicken flattish by leaning on it breast side up until it caves, and then brown it either side in some oil- about 2 tablespoons- in a casserole dish that can sit on the hob and fit the chicken and vegetables comfortably. Once the chicken is browned on either side, add the wine, about a glassful, and reduce to what is becoming my usual description of syrupy.Then add all the vegetables, chopped or sliced into forkable pieces, stir ( as well as you can with a bloody great chicken in the middle of the pan) and then add chicken stock so the bird is almost covered. I then seasoned with my usual liberal gusto, and added about 2 tablespoons of bottled green peppercorns and some thyme for good measure. I waited until the liquid had come up to a boil, reduced the heat to low, and let the chicken simmer, covered for about 2 hours.
Whilst I did this - well let it do itself frankly- I boiled equal amounts of celeriac and potato together until tender, drained, then mashed them with butter and cream. I set this aside in a serving bowl to be microwaved for when Big Brother arrived.
Once the chicken had cooked I removed it and let it rest on a covered dish, whilst I turned up the heat in the resulting stock and vegetable mixture, to reduce the sauce.
Once Brother dearest had arrived I stripped the chicken from the carcass, then put a serving of the heated celeriac/potato puree mixture on heated plates, topped it with the stripped chicken, then poured over the reduced sauce mixture complete with vegetables.
'What is this?' I was asked, 'Umm, Chicken stew with a sortof mash' I replied.After silent eating I enquired as to how it was...."it's aright" he replied, but I think I detected a bit more enthusiaism. We are getting there, we ARE, I am convinced of it!!!

Wrestling and Pasta

Obviously not together. My son decided that a family night at the wrestling was just what our relatively newly divided family needed to enjoy ourselves. I have to say as a fan of comedy, watching my son and daughter screaming G-rated obscenities at the 'heel' wrestlers was worth the price of admission alone. But I was hungry. So modern famial harmony restored I came home to address this.

 So once home I wanted to eat, and - oh dear I was going to say pounded away at- but that is a filthy lie. Earlier in the day I put the stripped leaves of a bunch of basil into the food processor, a rough handful of pine-nuts, 2 cloves of garlic, some salt, pepper, and the rind of half a lemon ( I like the zing and freshness), I then added finely grated parmesan, about 100g if I am being honest and whilst the whole mixture whizzed cheerfully about in the processor's merciless blades I poured in about 100-150ml of olive oil. It was extra virgin, it has to be really, so make sure it is please. When the whole mixture smelt divine, and looked ( with apologies to Gwyneth Paltrow) gloopy I put it in a bowl in the fridge. You see I knew that when I got back I would just eat bread with copious amounts of olive oils and Indian dukkah if I hadn't . So you do see I CAN be organised, it;s just that i choose the 'fly by my seat of pants option' on a regular basis. For fun, you do see....

So once home, I put a large pan of water on to boil, salted with my usual disregard for health. Whilst it came up to the boil, I sliced some red pepper ( capsicum Australian readers, don't panic!) into fine slices, and cooked them and a half sliced red onion in about a tablespoon of olive oil. I added the pasta to the boiling water, then let the vegetables cook for another 4-5 minutes ( vegetables- who am I kidding, onion and peppers!!), I then added a small amount of white wine ( well for me- about 100ml), let it get syrupy, and then added 250mls of cream, this was also reduced for about 2-3 minutes.
O.K. pasta was now ready ( I used  penne, but I had the radiator shaped one as well, I was tempted, but I think a walnut pesto style, or maybe a red pepper reduction would sink in better...we will see) So I drained  it, added my pesto to the sauce mixture, tipped the pasta in, stirred well ( I should say tossed, or some other delicate motion, but I am nothing but honest!) and then divided it into a bowl for me, and 3 portions for me later, singledom, like Bridget Jones-but with competent cooking. I could say I left it there, but lying is wrong- I may have to take up running, a destiny more dreaded than any other, but well desperate times etc etc, so I added more parmesan at the table, and bloody delicious it was too.
Tomorrow is my brother's weekly dinner, let's see if I can finally impress him beyond the grand praise of "That was alright', wish me luck, I am going in!!!!