Pissaladière

Sorry for the short interruption in posting. Mr. Stripey Cat has been here and very sadly the poor old Black Cat has died. We've been a bit quiet and miserable.

This pissaladière is a variation on tradition, the well known version from Southern France includes anchovies, olives and sometimes capers on the onion topping. This one has mushrooms and some strips of roasted red pepper for garnish. It also forms another entry in my informal series of 101 things to do with a sheet of ready rolled puff pastry.

Chop plenty of onions, any sort will do and cook very gently in plenty of olive oil and a good grinding of black pepper until they are very soft and beginning to turn golden. Stir in some fresh thyme leaves stripped from their woody stalks. Remove the mixture from the pan and set aside to cool. In the same pan quickly fry off some fresh white mushrooms so that they take on a golden glow and lose a little of their moisture.

On a greased baking sheet, unroll your puff pastry. Spread the onions over it to within 25mm of the edge. Top with mushrooms. I used some lemon thyme for herby seasoning and it was o.k. but I think I'd stick to the more usual form in future.

Decorate with thin strips of roasted red pepper. If you have none you can lightly fry off strips of a fresh one before starting assembly.

Cook at about 200C for 25 minutes until puffed and golden. Serve with a green salad and a good chilled rosé.

Salad Plate

Although anyone who knows me well will find this difficult to come to terms with I'm off my food this week. A combination of warm weather and anxiety in the trough of a depression has stolen my appetite and with it any inspiration I may have had for inventive cookery.

Still, I like to be thrifty and I have freshly dug potatoes and a pot of soya yoghurt that needed eating up. I made a potato salad with a dressing of mustard enhanced yoghurt and some capers.

I also have many courgettes. Some toasted hazelnuts, which would tempt the dead to eat, and a drizzle of balsamic vinegar on some lightly stir fried cubes of courgette made another simple salad.

Finally, a tricolour of avocado, melon and marinated roast red pepper makes the plate look pretty.

And since even the photograph looked dejected and flat I've bumped the contrast dramatically which is what gives it that rather interesting 50s colour plate look.

Bon Appétit

Bread with Beer in it

The perfect solution to the vegan need for soda bread without the buttermilk, soda bread with beer in it instead.

This is a profoundly easy and extremely nice quick loaf that slices, toasts and would probably make excellent 'eggy bread' (I think some people call this French toast) although I've not tried that yet. The texture is firm on the outside, tender within and it keeps for a day or two wrapped in a clean cotton teatowel. Rather nicer than all the Irish soda breads I've tried over the years if the truth be told.

When I first read a recipe for it on Farmgirl Fare it seemed to call for extra flavourings and fat in the form of added cheese and egg washes so when I came to veganise it I added nutritional yeast, garlic powder, herbs all of which things did nothing to improve the quality and in the case of the nutritional yeast flakes (I blame that Gayelord) contributed an unpleasant bitter flavour. So the next time I tried it I gave all those extras the push and kept it simple, and that worked.

400g fine wholemeal flour
400ml beer, I used a german lager, these are usually vegan, it would be nice to try this with a wheat beer sometime.
25g brown sugar
1/2 tsp salt
1 sachet (11g) baking powder.

Heat the oven to 200C. Mix all the dry ingredients together then add the beer and mix quickly into a thick batter. Make sure you stop mixing as soon as all the flour is incorporated.

Pour and scrape the mixture into a greased large loaf tin and cook for 55 mins to an hour. Test with a skewer to make sure it's cooked through, remove from oven and allow to cool on a rack for a few minutes before slicing.

Polenta e minestra

A bit of Italian for Sunday. This is one of the dishes that interested me when I read the cookbook; The Vegeterranean recently. What was particularly intriguing was the method they used to create the polenta croutons but when it came down to it, I didn't actually try that out today not least because the recipe says it will serve 8 and I'm on my own now until next weekend.

A quick whirl around the web (I wish I had my copy of the Silver Spoon here) is enough to assure me that this is a very well established dish originating in the poorer parts of Italy but none the worse for that. It's filling, delicious and cheap, which are all good things.

In my garden I have an unusual vegetable, Good King Henry, a sort of chenopod that has been first gathered and then cultivated for millennia as a sustenance food crop. As a substitute you can use any greens in season, from spring cabbage to spinach, chard, callaloo, kale or foraged greens like nettle tops and wild sorrel, all you need to do is adjust the blanching time according to the quality of your vegetables. I also used the first garlic bulb of the new season. Lucky me.

Polenta Croutons:

75g quick cook polenta (or traditional polenta and cook it longer!)
600ml cold water.

Mix the polenta with the water, bring slowly to a simmer, stirring continuously and cook for 3 or 4 minutes, then turn out into a wetted shallow dish or tin so that it is between 1 and 2 cm thick. Smooth the top, allow to cool and firm up for an hour or two before the next step.

Turn the polenta sheet out onto a cutting board and make neat cubes of it. Drizzle a little olive oil over the top and gently turn the cubes about in it until they are coated in oil. Lay them out on a tray and bake in a hot oven for 30 minutes to an hour (depending on the oven temperature, they easy to cook at the same time as something else). They will turn golden and crisp up a bit on the edges.

Minestra:

Take a handful of greens and cut into large shreds. Blanch the greens in a large pan of salted boiling water until they are softened. This will be quite quickly for tender cabbage, much longer for tougher veg. like the Good King Henry. I gave mine five full minutes. Spinach should be wilted in its own washing water, no extra needed.

Chop some garlic, to your taste, and a chilli (I didn't have one and used some shreds of red pepper and some chilli flakes). In a frying pan cook the garlic and chilli in a splash of olive oil until just beginning to colour, add your drained greens and stir all around. Finally (for 1 or 2 people) add 300ml of tomato stock (see below) or another vegetable stock, even made of your favourite stock powder, and let everything simmer for a moment to combine the flavours. Taste for salt and add some if needed.

Put polenta cubes into a deep soup bowl and top with the soup and abundant greens.



Tomato Stock or Broth:

4 large tomatoes, overripe is o.k.
600ml water
1 small onion
1/2 teaspoon salt

Chop the tomatoes up, skin, seeds and all and put them in the stock pan with the water, chopped onion and salt. A few celery leaves or a sprig of lovage may be added but don't overdo the flavourings.

Bring to a simmer and let cook gently with the lid on the pan for twenty minutes or so. Blend with stick blender and strain through a fine sieve. Yield: about 1 litre.

Seven Vegetables

Last night I made Seven Vegetables Couscous for my visitors. It's a rather easy meal that allows for chatter and distractions during the cooking which was just as well, I'd not seen Chris and Martyn for months and received a couple of phone calls while I was cooking as well.

The seven vegetables bit is almost poetic, you can vary them at will and make your own mind up whether garlic counts as a herb or vegetable as required. We had the basic essentials of onions, tomatoes and chickpeas, with potatoes (Stroma from the garden), courgettes, carrots and garlic. Other nice additions are green beans, aubergine, celeriac, pumpkin, what have you really. The tomatoes can be fresh or tinned. The chickpeas should be cooked beforehand (or use a tin).

Chop everything into bite sizes, fry off the onion and garlic in some good olive oil, add the rest of the vegetables, a little water and let everything stew. The seasonings are a piece of cinnamon stick, cumin, ground black pepper, hot pepper flakes to taste, parsley, sage, rosemary, thyme (or any combination thereof) and a final addition of some chopped green coriander just before serving. Harissa is traditional but optional.

I don't have a steamer here so used instant couscous made with boiling water, allowed to swell and then fluffed up with a fork and some melted margarine.

creamy courgette herb soup

There is no explanation for what possessed me to buy a net bag of courgettes last time I went shopping. I have six plants in the patch and they are just about to come onstream. I must be mad.

Anyway, this is a delightfully rich tasting soup which is very low in fat and a good way of making use of garden excesses.

Finely chop an equal number of medium sized onions and courgettes. I used two of each and have enough soup for four...

Sweat the onions down in just a touch of oil, your choice and then add the courgette slices. Put the lid on the pan and leave over a low heat until the courgettes are very soft.

Early season courgettes are very different to the 'almost marrows' of later in the season. They're much denser and contain less liquid. At this time of year you'll need to add somewhere between 300 and 450ml of water to this quantity of soup to get a good consistency, but this will become less as the summer goes on until at the start of autumn you may need no water at all.

Start with 300ml and see how it goes. Let the soup cook for a few minutes more with the liquid added and then use an immersion blender to render it into a wonderful smooth puree. You may need to add a little more water as you go but it should be fairly thick, a thin soup will taste of nothing. Test for seasoning, it will need a pinch of salt.

Put the pan back on the heat to warm up again and as it reaches a simmer toss in a good handful of finely chopped fresh and dry green herbs. I used coriander and mint but parsley, basil, chervil, even a few sprigs of tarragon would all be good. Experiment.

I put some soya yoghurt on mine to make the pretty pattern but it was a little bit thick. If you want to do this I'd recommend you thin the yoghurt first very slightly with a drop of soya milk or water. Alpro isn't available anywhere in France I know about, this was part of a care package brought over by Mr. Stripey Cat.

Serve your soup with something crunchy to accentuate the unctuousness of the herby cream.

Almost not cooking at all

I exhausted myself with all that poncey stuff yesterday. Tonight's supper is rather more pragmatic; a stir fry sort of thing with vegetables to hand, courgette, onion, left over aubergine sides, odd beet shoots mixed with tinned sweetcorn and chickpeas and seasoned with a mighty gloop of soy sauce and some black pepper. It was served on a deep bed of chopped lettuce, something that the garden is threatening to overwhelm me with.

Seasoned on the plate too, this time with tabasco pepper sauce. Every artist needs time to recharge.

Mediterranean Maki

Aubergine rolls of seasoned rice with a centre of sundried tomatoes, served with a Black Olive tapenade and Egyptian Beet salad.

First make your tapenade:

Stone 10 fat black greek cured olives. Add to them a teaspoonful of capers and a crushed clove of garlic. Mince finely together with a very sharp knife. You could use a blender or processor but this is such a tiny quantity it would be wasteful. When nicely amalgamated, add a pinch of dried oregano, a few thin shreds of preserved lemon in fine dice and two teaspoons full of olive oil. Mix together well. Cover and store in cool place until needed.

For the rolls:

Rehydrate five or six dried tomatoes (or use oil packed) and slice into very thin shreds.

Cook 200g of a shorter grained rice. I used a brown rice but rice from the Camargue or Valencia would be a nice touch. When it's cooked turn into a wide shallow bowl and add the seasoning mix of; 1 tsp. sugar and 1 (or half) tsp. salt dissolved in a very little hot water. Add 2 tbsp. mild vinegar. Stir this into the rice, fanning as you go to cool it. Cover and set aside until needed.

The aubergine wrapper is made from very thin slices of aubergine, cut lengthways. You will need nine neat slices, each one not more than 3 mm thick and you should be able to get these from one large fruit. Save the lumpy sides for another meal and concentrate on getting those slice from the fleshy central part.

Lightly salt the slices and leave for half an hour to degorge, then pat dry.

In a hot pan with just a very few drops of oil (if you have a spray use it) cook each slice until softened and slightly browned. Don't let them get crisp. Remove each slice to a piece of kitchen paper to drain while you cook the others. This isn't a difficult step but it pays to be careful and neat while you work. Don't let the slices crumple up too much.

On your sushi rolling mat (or a piece of clingfilm) arrange the cooked slices neatly so that they overlap a little and make a continuous sheet of sliced aubergine. This is your equivalent to the seaweed in a Japanese roll. Spread a layer of rice over half the sheet along the longer side, you won't need all of it, and then a line of shredded tomato along the middle of the rice. Roll up as tightly as you can, wrap tightly and set in the fridge to chill until serving.

To serve:

Dress your beet shoots (I use garden thinnings but small packs of sprouts can sometimes be bought) with a little olive oil and salt if required.

Unwrap your roll and with an extremely sharp knife make neat sections. The ends won't be very good but you will get 7 or 8 pieces. Arrange on serving plate(s) with a small mound of tapenade and a little pile of leaves.

Sweet Bricks

Sweet Samosas made with Brick.

Three left over sheets of Brick made six little sweet samosas, two filled with strawberries, two with chocolate and two with date and preserved lemon. I liked the date and lemon version best.

Rocket powered

My rocket is abundant and starting to flower. I thought I'd tame it by turning it into pesto.

Then I remembered my old food processor is no more, the mini-hachette would need to be loaded a million times and I have no pestle and mortar. Yes, that's right, no pestle, no mortar. It's a blow.

Anyway, that meant instead of delightfully raw green sauce for my spaghetti I had to settle for this lightly wilted one instead.

Get your pasta water on, plenty and well salted. As soon as it's boiling, stick the spaghetti in and cook until it's how you like it.

Meanwhile, chop a potato into small dice and put into a generous but not excessive gloop of hot olive oil. I used a raw one but if you had a cooked one leftover it would be fine to use. Let it fry gently for a while until cooked through and beginning to colour.

Add a green onion, bulb and leaves, chopped reasonably finely. Stir it into the hot potatoes and turn off the heat. Season well with ground black pepper.

Chop a really big bunch of dry rocket with a very sharp knife into fine shreds and then cross cut to make it even smaller.

When your pasta is cooked, drain it, retaining just a little water.

Turn the heat under the potatoes back on again, throw in the rocket and stir fry until it's softened and reduced in volume, then add the pasta, toss well, adjust seasoning and serve.



I thought this treatment gave the rocket a slight taste of seaweed, an observation in molecular gastronomy that might repay investigation at another time.

Ouarka

In France it is almost impossible to find filo pastry, instead one is recommended to try another product from the supermarket shelves, Brick. Brick sounds vaguely Germanic to me but the product itself is North African and probably arrived in France via its stormy connection with Algeria. The name it appears is an adoption of the name for stuffed parcels more often transcribed as Brik.

I hadn't made the connection between Brick and Ouarka until today, when I opened the packet I'd bought as a trial, until then imagining that Brick was just the French name for something very similar to Filo that would serve for the spring rolls I had planned for dinner. It is, and it isn't. In Algeria this pastry is 'dioul', in Tunisia it's 'malsouqa' and in Morocco it's 'ouarka' (ouarqa). I know it as ouarka.

Ouarka (or Warka in some spellings) is a very difficult paste to master. Although its ingredients are the simplest, a fine semolina flour and water with a drop of oil added the method is remarkable, a ball of dough is touched to a hot plate in an overlapping circular fashion until a disk of vanishingly thin firm pastry is formed. This is quickly removed and placed between sheets of paper to preserve its flexibility and the process is repeated until all the dough is used. It is so difficult to make that even in North Africa is rarely or never made at home, the skill needed is too great.

It is incredibly thin, so fine that it can be difficult to see which side of the paper it's stuck to, but don't panic, if you can loosen an edge it is sturdy enough to peel easily from the paper. My next problem was that it comes in 30cm circles, much too large for the mini spring rolls I had in mind but not easy to cut into usable shapes. I decided to make larger pancake rolls.

I'd already made a filling of shredded carrots, haricots verts, wood ear mushrooms, bean sprouts and shredded ginger. I forgot the garlic and pepper in my panic which was a pity but you don't need to make my mistakes. Although the pastry didn't stick well to itself during rolling it stayed together nicely in the pan so I had no need to make a paste to glue the rolls closed.

I was so taken aback by the pastry that I decided against deep frying and instead shallow fried my rolls in a generous layer of oil in a frying pan. This actually worked pretty well as the picture shows.

It did make a good fried roll but it's not a real spring roll wrapper nor is it Filo which I've become accustomed to as a substitute. The texture of the ouarka is appealing and I can feel myself working on ways to use it in the deepest recesses of my mind which will no doubt surface in a day or ten.

And in case anyone is wondering, seven pancake rolls is a lot for one person at a sitting, so I have some in the fridge. They won't be as nice but it's been a long time since I had a take away breakfast.

Assembly Work

This is the sort of cooking that Delia has recently been advocating and which has provoked such a response in the foodie press.

I was never a Delia fan, she had nothing to teach me and I found her personally, at least as far as she appears in public, ever so slightly repulsive. I caught a few episodes of the recent promotion of her book on the BBC and that impression was confirmed, I'd be reluctant to let her into the house. No doubt she won't mind that since our circles are never likely to cross.

Anyway, irrational antipathies aside, I'd be lying if I said I never took a short cut in the kitchen. I'm usually a bit shy of them, but there are times when the most important thing isn't the food. May I be forgiven for that!

This is a really easy and tasty tart or pie (yes, nomenclature again) which comprises;

1 baking tray.
1 sheet of ready rolled puff pastry.
2 tablespoons of bottled pasta sauce, tomato and basil flavour, spread to within 30mm of the pastry edge.
Enough tofu sliced very thin to cover the sauce.
A very little Cheezley crumbled over that (or use a shake of nutritional yeast).
1 jar of brine preserved artichoke hearts, halved and arranged neatly on the pie.
1 small onion, sliced into rings, tossed in a little oil and piled up in the centre of the construction.
A sprinkle of dried herbs over the top.
A shake of chili flakes to finish.

Fold the edges of the pastry up to enclose the filling, pleating neatly as necessary and bake for 20 minutes or so in a hot oven until the pastry is golden and crisp.

Serve with a salad and wine.

Summer Fruits

Strawberries, cherries, yoghurt in the sun.

Wholefood

Tepid Salad of wheat, green lentils and mushrooms in a balsamic reduction dressing.

Tepid is an unloved word but really this salad is best served at room temperature so that the wheat berries and lentils retain their flavour and balance the chunky pieces of mushroom with their sharp salty dressing.

Quantities are always a problem for the single diner, it would be uneconomic of me to suggest you cook 50g each of lentils and wheat for a personal sized portion and I have actually cooked 200g of each of these. The leftovers will be welcome for other meals.

The green lentils are simple, pick through in case of small stones (for the sake of your teeth), rinse well and cook gently in plenty of boiling water for 20-25 minutes. The wheat takes much longer and if I hadn't been in a hurry today I would have soaked it for 6 hours before putting it in the pot. Even without soaking recently harvested seeds should cook to a chewy softness in 40-45 minutes.

Slice your mushrooms thickly and fry in a couple of tablespoons of olive oil so that they become golden and succulent, then sprinkle in a shake of soy sauce and and a good grinding of black pepper. Deglaze the pan immediately with a tablespoon of cider vinegar, another of balsamic vinegar and a teaspoonful of sugar dissolved in it. When the liquid has reduced by half and become syrupy and thick remove the mushrooms and juice to a mixing bowl. Add sufficient drained lentils and wheat in equal quantities for your needs, mix everything together and allow to cool to room temperature.

Taste and adjust seasoning as necessary, I like this sharp and will usually add a little more vinegar. I would have added garlic but I'm going out tonight and don't want to deafen my peers.

Serve with green leaves, rocket is lovely, and a snip or two of chives or garlic greens over the top.

Book Review - The Vegeterranean

I like to get treats and this weekend Mr. Stripey Cat brought me a copy of The Vegeterranean, Italian vegetarian cooking from the Country House Montali by Malu Simoes and Alberto Musacchio.

It's a bold step to open a purely vegetarian restaurant in Italy, a wonderful country which was in our researches as a possible place to relocate to but where a couple of years ago I lived for a week on plates of white beans and spelt broths. Delicious but rather repetitive if you'll excuse the pun. Where 15 years earlier visiting even as a vegetarian I finally gave up my principles for the second week because I was fainting from lack of nutrition. Malu and Alberto are to be applauded and admired.

I spent a couple of happy hours perusing my new acquisition and ransacking it for every possible new idea and innovation that might help to improve my cooking.

This is definitely not a book designed for vegans - nearly every recipe makes use of cheese, cream or eggs and the few vegan offerings seem to be afterthoughts, ersatz versions of the dairy rich menu and not original cooking in their own right. And why should vegans have to settle for cocoa powder instead of real chocolate in the glaze for their "Sacher" torte?

Even so I found one traditional dish that was entirely new to me, one recipe that I will certainly try at some point and two presentations of combinations I'm already familiar with that are intriguing, can be veganised and would be useful when entertaining. This is pretty good for me, since I already have a million cookery books and will sometimes fork out good money for another on the strength of a single novel method.

What I was not so keen on though, and it's a pity since normally biographical details are interesting in their own right, were the interspersed articles about Malu, Alberto and their son and lives before and at the Country House. When Alberto spoke for himself, the words were mostly pithy but the longer ghost written episodes were dreary and in some places appeared smug and self justifying. The penultimate paragraph of the book was also mystifying and I can only imagine something was lost in translation since despite puzzling over it for several hours I still can't extract the philosophical meat from the bacon.

Still what's important are the recipes and these are clearly and confidently written making even complicated assemblies seem practical. One has to admire chefs who happily expect that their readers will be eager to knock up their own strudel dough but such is the drive demonstrated that it's almost tempting to give it a go.

My verdict: Accept this gift gratefully but think twice about spending your money on it if you are a committed vegan.

***Update: Having just spent a bit of time on their website it seems they will likely make a 20% surcharge for vegans or other "tailor made" dietary requirements including rennet free cheese. I don't think I'll be staying there any time soon ***

Rich and Sweet

After dinner treats for my love. Visiting rights are being observed and Mr. Stripey Cat is over for the weekend.

These chocolate truffles are really easy but like anything else they taste best if you use the absolutely best quality ingredients you can afford. The recipe makes rather too many sweets and you can halve the ingredients and still get 12 or 15 sweet treats for your guests. They are so rich one or two will be perfectly satisfying.

Rum Raisin Truffles.

200g 70% cocoa solids cooking chocolate (or any other high cocoa content chocolate of your choice)
200ml soya cream. I used a Gerblé version for these but I think almost any would do.
100g Speculoos biscuits. These are 'accidentally' vegan and so are our usual bought biscuits but if you can't get them then digestives with a pinch of cinnamon would substitute.
50g or so raisins.
Enough quality spirit, brandy or armagnac for preference.
Cocoa powder or granulated sugar.

At least a day before you need to make them, put the raisins in a small jar and barely cover with the brandy or other spirit. If you want to make a larger jar of these for stock, I can recommend it. They keep in the fridge indefinitely. Allow the dried fruit to absorb the alcohol.

When that's done, crush your biscuits roughly and mix with the drained raisins. You can sip at the juice or keep it in the jar for another day, I'm not looking.

Melt the chocolate in a dry bowl over simmering water and when it's completely melted whisk in the soya cream gradually, ideally over the heat. It will get lighter in colour and thicker. Fold in the biscuit/raisin mixture and put to cool in a small greased pan. A counsel of perfection would suggest that you grease a piece of parchment paper and use it to cover the top of the mixture while it cools to ensure an even set. Otherwise it tends to be a little stiffer near the top, but that's not too damaging.

Allow to cool a bit and then put in the fridge for a few hours until it's firm. Take teaspoonfuls of the lovely stuff, roll into small balls (and less is more with these, as in so many situations) and then roll in cocoa powder or granulated sugar to coat. The sugar tends to be absorbed, so don't do this too soon before you need to serve them. The cocoa powder ones keep better. You could also dip the balls in melted chocolate, drain and allow to set on some waxed paper but that was more work than I could contemplate.

If you have them pop the finished truffles into some pretty little bonbon cases and serve immediately, they will also keep for a few hours in the fridge if you've got a lot on and need to schedule your workload. I really wanted vine leaves to display my efforts but had to make do with mint and a saved Booja Booja case which added a certain piquancy!

Brunch for the Worker

Curried Tofu Scramble with rice cakes.

Sunny today

and unusually for me I was up at the crack of dawn, well nearly, and two hours earlier than is my custom. And then instead of sitting hunched over a coffee until I'd caught up with myself I made soup.



Why soup when all this week it's been raining and today the sun came out? And soup before breakfast? Search me, it's not even like it's stunning to photograph. But it is delicious.

Tomato Soup:
1 leek
4 (about 300g) very ripe tomatoes
1 400g tin of chopped tomatoes
Olive oil.

The ingredients for this are not fixed. I had a leek, I don't know why, they're barely in season but it needed eating up. Leeks are great in soups providing body with their gentle flavour but they're not often available when the main glut of tomatoes makes its show. Later in the year use all fresh tomatoes, a couple of shallots and a fluffy potato for thickening instead.

Slice the leek finely and melt down in some olive oil, you don't need much. Then add the roughly chopped fresh tomatoes and the canned ones. Add a pinch of salt. Bring to a simmer until every thing is fully cooked and softened, then use an immersion blender to smooth it all out. If you prefer you can run it through your mouli-legumes. Add a wine glass or two of water to get the thickness you prefer and reheat gently.

There really isn't anything more to it than that. You might add some basil or black pepper, I prefer to keep the colour as cleanly red as possible. Serve with toast. Be comforted.

I had soup for breakfast and again for lunch. This evening was another salad from the garden with new potatoes and an avocado, again because it had to be eaten or binned! I can't wait for some different vegetables to start cropping.

Pie or Tart?

Sweet Pepper and Chestnut Flan

If this was made with eggs and cream it would be called a quiche. If it were flatter, it would be a tart and if it had a lid it would be a pie. I don't know what to call it.

Makes two 10cm thingymajigs, each serving one.

Pastry:
125g plain flour
10-12g nutritional yeast
30g well chilled vegan margarine
½ tsp paprika
1 tsp mixed peppercorns, crushed.
50ml cold water

My mix of peppercorns is white, black, pink and green with coriander seed. Put all the ingredients except the water into a food processor and pulse a few times to combine (or rub fat in by hand). Then add just enough chilled water to bring the dough together, so don't put it all in at once but add a dribble at a time until you're happy with it. Gather up the pastry into a ball and set aside to rest in the fridge until you need it.

Filling:

200g cooked sweet chestnuts
2 flame grilled red peppers with skins removed
1 clove garlic, well crushed
1 tsp salt
lemon juice to taste

My chestnuts were the remainder of a tin that I had opened for an unsuccessful attempt at sausages and I'm a Lidl shopper so I have a jar of their wonderful pickled roast red peppers. This saved a lot of time with the preparation, but you can always cook some fresh or dried chestnuts and roast your peppers yourself, it is worth it.

Put all the ingredients except the lemon juice into the processor and process until it reaches a nice consistency. No need to eradicate every last nugget of chestnut, just make it not too gribbly. Taste and adjust seasoning with the lemon juice. You may not need any if you've taken the short cut of ready skinned peppers.

At this point the blade in my, admittedly 25 years old, food processor detached from its spindle so I had to do several batches in my mini-hachoir more usually occupied in making a few breadcrumbs or a sprinkle of chopped nuts. Still, that may not happen to you.

Roll the pastry out between two sheets of parchment paper (or cling film if desperate) and line two 10cm flan rings on a lightly greased and floured baking tray. There are no flan rings of that size in the house so I improvised a ring from aluminium foil origami and baked the second portion as flat crackers.

Prick the pastry all over with a fork so that it won't bubble up and bake blind for 20 minutes in a hottish oven, around 200C. Then fill the cases with the mixture and return to the oven for another 15 minutes. Serve warm or cool.

The spare filling was great eaten as spread/dip with the 'crackers' and the thingymajig is a "real" meal.

Life interrupts Food

Not feeling much like cooking today. The non-stripey Cat, our friend and companion for many years, is not well and this may be his final illness. As cats do, he has withdrawn into himself and although he allows himself to be pulled around for inspection and his medication without complaint he will not eat and he will not move from his seat.

So I've only had the emotional energy to boil a few potatoes from the garden to make this:


Very simple New Potato and Radish Salad.

The potatoes were cooked until just tender in well salted boiling water with some mint leaves added.

The radishes were cleaned and sliced into rounds.

The dressing is made from a couple of tablespoonfuls of vinaigrette and a small tub of soya yoghurt. To flavour I added some capers, some chopped mint and a onion flower stalk - like a spring onion only not quite.

To eat, I sprinkled a few broken up pretzel sticks over the top to add some crunch.

Coco Nutty

In the last few days most of my cooking exploits have ended unsatisfactorily. Stuff just isn't nice enough to post in the blog. Today, when I came in from a couple of hours hard labour and as hungry as a horse from missing breakfast I decided to cut the crap and use someone else's successful recipe, just for a change.



Destiny's Kitchen had just produced some of Isa Chandra Moskowitz's Coconut Pancakes and very nice they looked too. So I made them my mark despite the fact the Americans persist in calling pancakes what we would call drop scones. Pancakes, as any fule kno', are more like a crêpe only British.

Then, being me, I threw the recipe away and made my own version, mainly because I have no cup measures here, no maple syrup and so on. You get the picture but because the bits of this recipe that really appeal to me, the nutmeg and the coconut, I'd never thought of before I can't really claim this as my own work. If you'd like to make them I suggest you pop over to Destiny's and start there.

Supremely easy, tolerably quick and delightfully fried sugary carbohydrate, I treated myself to some brewed coffee to go with them and ate the lot. I may have to lie down now.