Pecan-ish & Key Lime Pie

I'm entirely aware that at the moment there's an imbalance and the blog looks a bit sweet-centric. I can live with this. This is because I've not been cooking much recently. A combination of really warm weather, and a hectic working week have made me a bit braindead by the evenings, and more thirsty than hungry.

Anyways. I can't take credit for these - they were the invention of The Boy. Well, the Key Lime wasn't; it's a Delia, and I've yet to find or envisage a better recipe for Key Lime pie than this. The pecan-ish pie? Read on.

Preheat the oven to a moderate 180c. The pastry, first of all. The rules: cold hands, big bowl. 130g plain flour sieved into a bowl. Add to this 2tbsp icing sugar and mix. Into this, dice 75g unsalted butter and mix until it resembles granular rubble. This is also very easy work in a food processor or KitchenAid. At this point, drizzle in a little cold milk and stir until it's combined. Press into a disc, wrap in clingfilm and place in the freezer for about 20 minutes. Now get on with the filling.

Chop 100g pecan nuts and 25g peanuts roughly, or just attack with a rolling pin. Scatter on a baking sheet and roast in the warming oven for about 5 minutes. In a bowl, whisk 4 large eggs and add 100g dark musocavado sugar. Then add a further 100g maple syrup and 100g golden syrup. Mix to combine, and then stir in 50g melted unsalted butter. At this point, if you have a good splash of bourbon to hand, it's a winning addition. If not, panic not.

Now, roll the pastry on to a floured surface. When rolled, drape across a lightly greased 23cm flan dish/pie dish/cake tin. Trim the edges with a knife, and pause to feel momentarily smug about your pastry achievement. Scatter the roasted nuts over the base, and pour over the mixture.

Place in the centre of the oven for about 45 minutes. It should be mostly firm, not liquid-y looking, and have risen, though will cool when set. Leave to cool. It's bliss however you approach it. In winter - and one year it was my Christmas day alterantive to the traditional pudding - I couldn't imagine it not being warmed with good vanilla ice-cream. In the height of summer, I want it cool, with a drizzle of single cream.

This was intended for an ironic 4th July Independence Day BBQ (the irony being that no-one there is American) which got rained off, allowing us to enjoy the Wimbledon ladies' final and our car breaking down. Marvellous.

Greek Pasta and Courgette Pancakes

See, these two were mentally planned before the weekend arrived. Paul & Lissy had tentatively invited us to a BBQ. Or, more precisely, they'd invited us to a tentative BBQ. Being England and June, this was purely tempting fate. As it turned out they made us a lovely meal, so I took two 'additions.' Incidentally, a one year old adored both of these.

I call these Greek-inspired ideas, but in actuality, they're more closely inspired by the flavours and combinations I've encountered numerous times in Turkey. Both of them are delightful, could expand do feed a crowd, and simplicity itself.

The pasta. I made enough to be picked at by 4 and there was pleny left. Into a pan of salty water on a rolling boil, tip 300g dried pasta. Any short pasta will do; I used penne this time. Now get on with the rest. In the bowl you'll serve it in, mix equal quantities of greek yoghurt and creme fraiche. The amount you use is dictated by how 'gloopy' you like a pasta salad. For the record, I like a light coating, rather than a coagulated mess. Into (for example, 4tbsp of each) add 2tbsp good olive oil, and season well. Then, mince a garlic clove, and add the zest and juice of 2 lemons. Finally, take a cucumber, and de-seed it, and dice it finely, and add it. Then, decide on the herb you'd like to use - mint, parsley, coriander, basil, or a heady combination of a few. By this point, the pasta will probably be ready. Drain it, and then thoroughly rinse through with cold water. Fold the cold pasta into the yoghurty mixture, and place in a bowl. If transporting on a car journey, wedge thoroughly in the boot between an old sofa throw and a road map.

The pancakes. Take 2 courgettes and grate coarsley into a bowl. Add 3 spring onions, very very finely chopped to this, and mix. Then scatter with a light dusting of dried chilli flakes and season. Beat 2 large eggs in a mug, and then add this, and combine. Finally, stir in 5-8 tbsp plain flour (depending on how much you need to make the mixture a thick-ish pancakey dough.) Finally, a pinch of bicarbonate of soda stirred in will make this light and summery, rather than doughy and leaden. Heat a little olive oil in a frying pan, and once hot (the best way I've found to test is to flick a few drops of cold water at the pan; if it sizzles excitedly, it's hot) add two separate spoonfuls of the mixture to the oil. Crucially, you don't want these two thick, and might need to do some judicious 'flattening' of the mix in a pan so that they thin out a little. Once they start to look solid and are browned underneath (typically, a minute or so) flip them over and give 'em the same again. Repeat until you've used all the mix. Stack them up on some kitchen paper. These would be heavenly warm with some herby yoghurt mix (maybe make extra from the pasta above) or cold with some sweet chilli sauce. Whichever way you turn them, they're moreish beyond belief.

This speedy cookfest (we have a knack of leaving things to the last minute) was soundtracked by the radio, though had I made them today, it would have been Jagged Little Pill in its entirety. Having a very '90s moment this afternoon, as I made a Butternut and Spinach curry (+ vanilla chessecake) for Jess & Kathryn. Lovely weekend.

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Raspberry Chocolate Brownie Surprise

In all fairness, this is only a surprise as I created it for The Boy. It's Friday, and I had a cooking mood on, so decided to combine weekendliness with a desire to please. Not eaten it yet, so can't tell you how nice it is (or isn't, of course) but it smelled very appealing when baking, as I caught up with the V+ box. I've labelled it thus, as I suppose it's brownie-like in texture, or certainly, its components in these quantities make it lean in that direction.

Into a bowl, thoroughly mix 190g plain flour with 1tsp baking powder, 1/2tsp bicarbonate of soda and 35g cocoa powder. Don't go anywhere near drinking chocolate. In a separate bowl, measure 300g fresh raspberries, and steep them in 2tbsp of dark rum. In a large pan, add 250g unsalted butter, 200g dark brown sugar, 300g dark chocolate (I decided to go a bit Joan Collins and use the 85% cocoa stuff) with 350ml of hot chocolate (made with water added to cocoa; don't use milk) and 1tbsp dark rum. I suppose you could slug some Tia Maria in, if you have it. Stick the pan over a low heat and stir until it's all melted. Then, furiously beat 2 large eggs into this, off the heat. Fold this into the dry ingredients, and then stir in the raspberry/rum juice mixture. At this point, I was a little hasty and didn't mix everything properly and had to then use a bit of whisking to combine all the flour. Do learn from my mistakes and show a little patience, and save yourself some washing up, too.

Pour this glorious mixture (very runny, worry not) into a greased/lined/buttered 24cm cake tin. Mine's silicone, and is amongst the best eight pounds I've ever spent; no need to line, butter etc. Then, scatter the raspberries over the mix, and push them into the batter. Place this is the middle of an oven at 180c for 45 minutes. As soon as the top looks set, whisk it out and leave it to cool completely. And I mean, completely.

And there you have it. I'll probably have this with some creme fraiche. And I've dusted it with icing sugar and covered it in extra raspberries. I was going to stir in some pecan nuts to the mix - and you very easily could - but forgot to buy them. A sneaking murmur within me leads me to think that this might well be nice with ice-cream. I'll let you know.

This recipe was soundtracked by an open back door, the birds twittering, and a lot of Emmylou Harris.

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Chicken Stew & Chocolate Peanut Muffins

You'd think, wouldn't you, that with a new blog, I'd be wanting to make a dazzling impact with my first proper recipe post? This, sadly, is the real world. And all I can promise you, is that the Chicken Stew tastes much much better than it looks.

It's Wednesday, I'm tired. And this actually hit the spot and didn't take too long to construct.

I started with some garlic oil in a saucepan, heated, and then threw some diced chicken thighs into it. Once these had been gently browned, I threw in some chunks of carrot, along with some diced celery. Still chunked quite large for texture. I'm a cheat, so at this point threw in a can of chickpeas ready cooked. Following this, some chicken stock (from bouillon) and left on a rolling simmer for half an hour. As it started its simmer, I snipped in some dried apricots, carraway seeds and chilli flakes. Lovely. This then simmered away, and, after some seasoning, was ready. (Inevitably, like anything curry/stew/chilli-ish, it'll be even better tomorrow once its flavours have amalgamated even more.) We ate this with some buttered crusty bread. Tomorrow I may venture towards cous-cous.

Mid-week baking's always a treat. I knocked up some very chocolatey and unsweet muffins from an old recipe. Lovely, though they did catch a bit. Bugger.

Anyway, it's the topping you have to try; a rich, sweet peanut butter confection. I pounded 5tbsp unsalted butter until it was soft, and then added half this quantity of icing sugar and beat it like hell until smooth. Then, add a teaspoon of vanilla extract (never never essence, just don't bother, leave it out altogether) and blend. Then, add 3tbsp double cream and beat further. Then, fold in 2tbsp of smooth peanut butter. At this point, I used my mezzaluna to dice some roasted peanuts, and mixed these in with a good grating of salt. You could lose the peanut chunks, but don't whatever you do, lose the salt. This will make enough for six muffins, though could be slathered across chocolate loaf, plain sponge, whatever you like.

I am never one for leaving a plate (and, yes, those are "I HEART Cake" plates) of muffins alone, but just one of these babies floored me. Perfect, though, with a catch-up on last night's TV.

This mid-week hodge-podge was soundtracked by some late period Spice Girls (I'd be lying if I said I didn't try and recreate their late 90s dance moves) and then an assortment of guilty power ballads, where I spoiled the harmonies on Wilson Phillips. Will I ever learn?

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...And So It Begins

So, where to start?

Over the last ten years, my passion for food has just grown and grown. Not just eating about it, but reading about it, writing about it, discovering more. I love it.

And I've been thinking for an age about how to communicate this. I'm not interested in what I call 'Performance Food' though there have been a few occasions when this has needed to be called into service. But what inspires me is recipes scribbled on to the back of a beer mat, or frantically annotated on to the back of a stray till receipt as soon as I've left the restaurant. Real food.

I love it when people cook for me, and I love cooking for people. And it all happens from my kitchen in Manchester, England. And now, I want to send it global! Hurrah!

As much as the food I cook, it's why I cook it, who I've cooked it for, how it went down, what I was listening to when I cooked it.

And, the journey begins here.

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