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.