the meditative power of chopping mushrooms

is a force to be reckoned with.

though I was also glad it was over at some point.

this mushroom ragoût (halfway done in the picture above) has been a favorite over the years. the recipe is from nadine abensur's cranks bible, an impulse buy almost ten years ago now at the vegetarian cookbooks section in my local bookshop. it was one of my better impulses, if I may say so myself. nadine's writing sometimes borders on the smug (you know, vegetarian people are Better than meat eaters and that), but her recipes are fantastic. I love the sense of abundance in her style of cooking, the celebration, her love for vegetables, her true respect for food.

I used to be a vegetarian, and although I still largely eat vegetarian (maybe meat or fish once every two weeks), I am not anymore. the underlying reasons for becoming a vegetarian are still there, I just no longer believe not eating meat is the best way for me to express those reasons. the subject is still very important to me. maybe I'll write about it some more here in the future.

a rich mushroom ragoût with vermouth

adapted from nadine abensur's recipe in the cranks bible
it's great with pasta, but as nadine notes, there's very little this ragoût doesn't work with - eat it over brown rice, use it as a filling in a pale, rich omelette, eat it on toast, with roasted potatoes and steamed brussel sprouts (as we did one christmas eve)... we had some simple slices of cucumber alongside it yesterday, because it was what I had in the house. I can also imagine a shaved fennel salad being an extraordinarily nice accompaniment to this.

start by slicing all the mushrooms. I used three punnets of white button mushrooms for this - about 750 grams all in all. that seems like a lot, and it is, but mushrooms do cook down an awful lot. it was not an extravagant amount of ragout for the two of us. nadine uses all kinds of mushrooms in her recipe, from dried, soaked cèpes to otherworldly looking enoki. that would be wonderful, I think, but I never used anything but plain button mushrooms or brown button mushrooms, because, well, mushrooms are expensive.
melt a pat of butter in a large, heavy pan, on the lowest heat possible. finely chop two cloves of garlic, and let them soften gently in the butter, stirring all the while. when the garlic is softened, but not brown, start adding the sliced mushrooms. the pan I use can't hold all the raw mushrooms at once, so I add them in batches. they will cook down quick enough. turn up the heat to a medium, and when the mushrooms start softening, add a dash of tamari, a dash of tabaso (or a pinch of cayenne pepper), and a little bit of regular pepper. nadine uses salt here, too, but for me the tamari is salty enough.

when the mushrooms start softening even more, and have released some of their juices, add a good slosh of vermouth, 2 teaspoons of dried thyme (or the chopped leaves of a sprig of fresh thyme) and a handful of chopped fresh parsley. a note on parsley, by the way - the last couple years there has been some talk about 'regular' parsley not being very tasty. true foodies are supposed to buy flat leaf parsley. I say flat leaf parsley is fine, but so is the regular stuff, if you buy - or indeed grow - organic. anyway, where was I? oh yes, let the mushrooms cook down some more. when about half of the juices they've released are cooked down (this can take some time, and give it time, the flavour will only improve), add 4 tablespoons of cream. turn the heat down low again, and let the ragout simmer until it's reached the desired consistency. check for seasoning, add some more fresh chopped parsley, and apply to face.

- anne

One cake plus one cake is a whole lot of cake

And good food there was. Brunch for dinner, fresh fish, Moroccan feasts, Vietnamese stir-fries and sushi bowls paired with long conversations about all kinds of things, roast chicken shared with family, and plenty of cakes. A wedding cake even. And two birthday cakes, to my delight (and not just mine, thankfully).

My mum requested a cheesecake for her birthday. No problem, I love cheesecakes. A while back I had made the German-style cheesecake from Breakfast, Lunch, Tea – lovely, but more a modest afternoon snack to offer an unexpected passer-by than the kind of cake that turns a birthday into a real celebration. I settled on the New York cheesecake I came across at Smitten Kitchen. Go look at her photos. You’ll know why.

For my dad (who gave me pretty much free reign by saying he’d like chocolate, “or fruit, or something else”) I baked a chocolate ganache cake known as Kate’s Winning-Hearts-and-Minds cake, which actually took the wedding cake tally to two, in a way. (Do go and read about that here, or even better, in her book; it’s a wonderful story.) An indulgent cake if there ever was one, and perfect in small slices paired with a scoop of cinnamon ice cream or some boozy whipped cream. A cake with attitude, too, rising and falling and stamping its feet, but after doing double duty in the oven it came out perfect, gooey in the middle and with a gorgeous crispy top. As I was melting the chocolate and butter (very carefully over a direct heat, not recommended, but certainly less hassle) I couldn’t resist adding a couple teaspoons of cinnamon, and even though it’s surely blasphemy, I loved the result. Rich and warm and spicy. I think it did win its share of Dutch hearts and minds.

* UPDATE *
I made the chocolate cake a second time this week, and with a few small changes it came out completely differently – still delicious, but different. First, I didn’t have an 8-inch (20cm) springform pan, so I used a 24cm (about 9.5 inch) one, ingredients unchanged. Second, I was using a fan-assisted oven again, but unlike two weeks ago, this time I sensibly adjusted the oven temperature from 190°C (375°F) (which I even cracked up to 200°C for 10 minutes after the cake had been in for 30 and was still wobbly) to 170°C (340°F). The result of the former was, obviously, less height and a larger circumference. The result of the second was a cake that was all of a sudden very well-behaved: done in the advertised 20 minutes, no cracks, a smooth, uniform texture, and almost no falling at all. Together, they made for a very different kind of cake; less rustic, more sophisticated. A bit like a tarte au citron in chocolate form. I really can’t say I liked the one more than the other, but even though the flavour was almost identical, these cakes had (if you can tolerate the metaphor) very different personalities. So contemplate the hearts and mind you wish to win, and take your pick!

- Naomi

She’s not there

Anne is off to live the good life. She’ll be back next week.

The wheel’s kick and the wind’s song

Ladies and gentlemen, I bring you last week’s vegetable adventures from the middle of the North Sea, on my way home for an eagerly anticipated break. I’m carrying more food than anyone could eat on a twelve-hour journey, plus a tub of fresh pesto made last night when I should have been asleep and some packets of particularly delicious feta for my parents. I’m sure they will get the holiday cooking off to a good start. There will be lots of visits with family and friends and two birthdays, so even though I have to miss my by now very beloved veg box for two whole weeks, I trust there will be plenty of cooking and baking. More soon!

Last week’s box: Cambridgeshire short cucumber, beetroot bunch, carrots, celery, cos lettuce, runner beans, tomatoes, courgettes.

This week no box… but lots of good cooking ahead!

- Naomi

Buffalo mozzarella with very ripe tomatoes

Two tomato celebrations in eight days is a self-justifying set of events, I’d say. As long as it’s August, anyway. I learnt from the back of the carton keeping my mozzarella safe (and well-designed) that a great mozzarella is firm initially, and gets softer with age, and that the best experience is to be had if you manage to eat it while still firm. I’d always assumed it would be the other way around. But while I do love soft mozzarella, I have no problem trusting the Laverstoke farm mozzarella makers on this one. Judging by their cheese, they sure know what they’re talking about.

Salade Niçoise

The art of poaching eggs really deserves its own post some time. But what better role for a good poached egg (post-asparagus season, anyway) than as the proverbial cherry topping a salade Niçoise?

Nigel’s bolognese

The initial batch of Nigel’s bolognese was – dare I say it? – a wee bit disappointing. (And I had such high hopes.) I think the vegetables-to-sauce ratio was a bit off, and the cooking was slightly rushed. I cooked up the “leftovers” (still enough to feed a small family) a few days later with more passata, and that was rather good. It’s probably a sauce that ages well, anyway. Here’s what Anne had to say about it, plus a recipe.

Beetroot and courgette pancakes

These were an experiment, but I quite liked how they turned out. This kind of basis is very versatile – I imagine these would be good as beetroot–carrot pancakes too, or with some ricotta stirred into the batter, or two eggs for a lighter texture… We had them with grilled sea bream, but in the absence of fish they would go well with sour cream.

some beets (I had four smallish ones, which was enough for 12 small pancakes)

a small courgette

buckwheat flour (or spelt, or any other kind)

an egg

garlic, minced

a fresh chilli, chopped

some fresh coriander, chopped (stalks included)

butter for frying

Peel and grate the raw beetroots and the courgette (the latter unpeeled). Combine in a bowl, then add enough flour to coat everything and soak up any juices, but not so much that there’s spare flour on the bottom of the bowl – about one small cup. Season with a small pinch of salt (beetroot is high in sodium, so it won’t need much) and stir in the garlic, chilli and coriander. Add enough water to form a thick batter (half a cup or so, but start slowly). Add the egg and check for consistency. My batter just held together enough to be transferred to the pan heaped on a tablespoon, but slightly runnier would work as well. The only thing to be careful about is that it’s fluid enough to make pancakes of even thickness, or they will be hard to cook evenly. Add scoops to the pan, flatten with a fork, and fry in browned butter, about ten minutes on each side.

Braised beet greens

My bunched beetroots had beautiful shiny stems and firm leaves, so I cooked those up to go with the pancakes. Chop the stems, 2cm or so per piece, and tear up the leaves. Wash the stems and greens very well, then braise with some lemon juice and chilli flakes for about ten minutes in browned butter – the stems need a few minutes longer than the leaves.

Tabbouleh

Proper tabbouleh is more a salad than a starchy dish. I did not use any onion, but added some tender celery stalks – decidedly inauthentic, but it made for a nice crunch. The recipe by Yotam Ottolenghi I found in the Guardian did not mention soaking the grains, which was new to me. I actually wasn’t sure whether the omission was deliberate or an oversight, but I made my salad the night before, and the bulgur was just right without soaking. No guarantees that it will work for immediate serving as well, though. Serves 1, or 2 as a side.

a very big bunch of fresh parsley

a bunch of fresh mint

a small handful of bulgur

a large juicy tomato

either half an onion or some tender celery stalks, finely chopped

a squeeze of lemon juice

pinch of sumac (or allspice)

half a finely diced fresh chilli (optional)

Run the bulgur under a cold tap, till the water runs clear. Chop the parsley, including the stalks, very finely, and add to the bulgur. Repeat for the mint, leaves only. Add the tomato, cut in small pieces, and the onion or celery and chilli. Stir until well-combined, and season with olive oil, lemon juice, sumac, sea salt and pepper.

Pesto (with spaghetti, runner beans, and courgettes)

Going home was the perfect excuse to turn my Greek basil plant into a big batch of fresh pesto. Delicious with spaghetti and the rest of the runner beans and courgettes, although the courgette had gone soft and very bitter. Any remedies for that (except eating it earlier)?

a big basil plant

some lightly toasted pine nuts

a handful of freshly grated parmesan or pecorino

a small clove of garlic

olive oil, not too strong

Pick the leaves off the basil, and blend all the ingredients either by hand in a pestle and mortar, or with a food processor or handheld blender. Season with a small pinch of sea salt and freshly ground black pepper. Taste and adjust until the flavour and consistency are as you like them.

on originality (or: couscous with pumpkin, carrot and mango)

in other words: I had a salad in the café of the Tate Modern, and liked it so much that I wanted to eat it again. so when I got home, I made it.

I've never understood the big to-do about the idea that nothing is original and that everything has been done before. it seems there is this misplaced air of cool surrounding it, the cool of being (post)modern enough to face the harsh truth in the eye. I just think it's a little bit silly (and to be completely honest, a way out of actually looking things in the eye).

I made the salad, and celebrated it. not my so-called thievery, but the salad itself. since then, it has become a regular.

every time I make this, I am reminded of that afternoon in the Tate gallery. and of making it myself for the first time, how easy it felt, like it was a dish that I had been making all my life. it's where you take things from. and where you take them to.

couscous with roast pumpkin, carrots and mango

thanks, Tate!

peel and cut one pumpkin and a few carrots into little chunks (about 2 square centimeter - but don't get your ruler out or anything). use about 4 or 5 carrots... it really depends on how hungry you are, and what size the carrots are. I think you can go on your instincts here. put them in a baking tray, sprinkle over some olive oil, salt and pepper, and put them in an oven of 200 degrees celsius for about an hour, until they are roasted golden. check every now and again how it's going - how fast the pumpkin and carrots will roast can vary quite dramatically, depending on their texture. it also, of course, depends on your taste when done is Done. when you think they'll need about 15 minutes more, start preparing the rest of the ingredients. you can also just turn the oven off when you find the vegetables to be nicely roasted and haven't started the other ingredients yet.

prepare the couscous - put 75 gr. per person in a bowl, and cover with 150 ml. boiling water per 75 gr. couscous. then cover the bowl, and let it steam for about 10 minutes. I can highly recommend using organic whole wheat couscous, by the way. it sounds stodgy, but it adds a wonderful flavor.

meanwhile, peel a mango and cut it up in chunks, about the same size as your carrots and pumpkin. do this over the serving bowl, so as not to lose any of the lovely juices.

fluff up the couscous with a fork. add it to the mango, and also add the roasted vegetables, 75 gr. roasted cashews, and a handful of roughly chopped up coriander. check for seasoning, but in my experience, the salt from the cashews (I tend to use salted ones) is enough.

sprinkle over some olive oil to finish. if you have a lemon lounging about, squeeze in some lemon juice.

(as you see in the picture above - we didn't have any coriander in the house when I made this last week. I served some basil alongside, and the combination was actually quite good!)

we ate it with some organic chipolatas, and it's also lovely with meatballs. for a vegetarian meal, you could maybe serve some goat's cheese alongside. maybe even one of those baked goat's cheese thingies? some quite savory flavors go well with this couscousdish. oh - and it might also be good with a different nut, like pistachios.

- anne

jim jarmusch quote from nogoodforme.com (which might be my favorite blog in the whole entire world). by the way, don't mean to be a jim jarmusch hater! I do like his movies!

Foraging

When I wrote a few weeks ago that summer is hardly making itself apparent, I was of course talking nonsense. Even on the grey days, August is everywhere. It is there in the first mulberries off the tree at the back of campus. It’s there in the elderberries and rosehips growing dark purple and bright red on the riverside path to the university (where I even ran into a young red fox the other day). It is there in the sloes on the hedgerows along the estuary, in the insatiable mosquitoes, in the fields full of sunflowers on the hill overlooking the water.

It is so satisfying to pick a perfectly sweet plum from a tree lining the train tracks, or to spot some early blackberries, even stopping for a second on a long run to eat two or three. However overcast the sky might be, that’s unmistakably gloriously summer. Around here the banks of the estuary must have plenty to offer as well. In fact, it’s a very popular pastime amongst the local youth go crabbing – baiting lines and small mesh bags with bacon or chicken and excitedly declaring any specimen over a few centimetres “ginormous”. But there surely are plenty of wild edible greens around too – nettles of course, and tender leaves and flowers, but also samphire and sorrel, sea aster, borage and wild garlic, and probably dozens more that I would walk right by. (And fungi, obviously, lots of them, but I wouldn’t trust myself with those.) I’ve never really gone much beyond the fruit, but some day, I’d love to be learn enough to go out on a beautiful summer evening walk and pick my dinner while I’m at it. For the rest of the summer, though, it’s probably going to be mostly berries. I’ll have to find some time this weekend to go pick a punnet. Blackberry crumble, anyone?

Last week’s box: baby leaf spinach, broccoli, bunched carrots, kohlrabi, plum tomatoes, Portobello mushrooms, red oak leaf lettuce, courgettes, new potatoes.

This week’s box: Cambridgeshire short cucumber, beetroot bunch, carrots, celery, cos lettuce, runner beans, tomatoes, courgettes.

- Naomi

Buffalo mozzarella with very ripe tomatoes

Soft buffalo mozzarella, tomatoes bursting with flavour, some big leaves of fresh basil… what more is there to say?

King prawns in a Spanish spinach tomato sauce

King prawns again! Spanish this time, after a recipe in Moro (did I mention I love that book?). The Moro recipe uses finely chopped green pepper and caraway seed, but I used spinach, since that’s what my veg box gave me, and fennel seeds plus a tiny bit of cumin, as there was no caraway seed around the house. Tasted great though, especially with a slice of lightly toasted sourdough rye bread.

raw king prawns, peeled or unpeeled

a couple handfuls of fresh spinach

tin of good-quality chopped tomatoes, or homemade tomato sauce (for two persons, use two tins)

plenty of garlic, thinly sliced

fresh parsley

fennel or caraway seeds

dried chillies or chilli flakes

Heat a splash of olive oil and fry the garlic and some dried chillies. When the garlic starts to colour, add the caraway or fennel seeds. Stir in the tomatoes or tomato sauce, season with sea salt and black pepper and, if the sauce needs it, a pinch of sugar, and simmer for a while. (The Moro recipe says discard the juices of the tinned tomatoes before adding them, but I actually like this dish with a bit of thicker and a bit of more watery sauce.) Add the spinach and the prawns and cook for a few more minutes, until the prawns are pink. Serve with a generous amount of fresh parsley.

Kohlrabi slaw (with grilled mackerel with chermoula)

Looking around for ways to use my giant kohlrabi, I found one recipe that got lyric reviews at both Orangette and The Wednesday Chef. So what choice but to try that? It was quite good indeed, and it worked well with the grilled fish and chermoula we had with it. I’ll have to write about that chermoula some time as well. But I’m afraid that would make me a bit lyrical myself. So for now: kohlrabi slaw. Adapted from Molly Wizenberg and Luisa Weiss, who adapted it from The Farm to Table Cookbook by Ivy Manning, and Fearn Smith of The Farm Café. (PS. Other veg box participants in the meal: potatoes (fried) and a salad of red oak lettuce and spinach.)

one kohlrabi the size of a tennis ball, or a couple smaller ones (any colour – mine was purple!)

1 tsp fennel seeds

1 garlic clove, very finely minced

2 tbsp rice wine vinegar

2 tbsp olive oil

1 tsp toasted sesame oil

The original recipe(s) julienne the kohlrabi, but I prefer grating, both for the process (julienne without a mandoline… no thanks) and for the result – the slaw mixes with the dressing much better when it is grated. So: grate the kohlrabi. Toast the fennel seeds, pound in a pestle and mortar or grind in a spice grinder, combine with the other ingredients, and mix through the grated kohlrabi.

Broccoli with garlic and chilli, rice and tofu

Nothing much to say about this, except that it was a whole lot better than last week’s broccoli. Make sure not to overcook the broccoli initially – it should be bright green and still firm when it comes out of the water.

one head of broccoli

fresh chilli pepper, seeds removed and cut into small rings

plenty of garlic, thinly sliced

tofu, sliced

brown rice

tamari or soy sauce

a bit of toasted sesame oil

Separate the broccoli into florets and slice up the stem. Cook for two minutes in salted water. Boil the rice. Soften the chilli and garlic in some vegetable oil plus a splash of sesame oil, add the sliced tofu, sprinkle with tamari or soy sauce and fry till somewhat crispy, 10 minutes or so, turning halfway. Remove to a plate minus the chilli and garlic, and fry the broccoli, adding some more oil if necessary (just enough to prevent them from sticking to the pan). Plate up the rice, dress with soy sauce and/or sesame oil as desired, and top with the broccoli, garlic, chilli and tofu.

Courgette omelette with mozzarella

This omelette came out as a bit of everything, but in a way that worked. The mozzarella could be substituted by grated parmesan or manchego. Depending on the size of your pan, you may need to prepare this in two batches. Serves 2.

one medium or two small courgettes

three eggs

some milk

a ball of good-quality mozzarella

garlic, minced

fresh chilli pepper, seeds removed and cut into small rings

sweet smoked Spanish paprika (optional)

some torn basil or parsley

Thinly slice the courgettes on the diagonal. Thinly slice the mozzarella. Fry the garlic and chilli, then add the courgettes in one layer and allow to soften. If you’re using basil, you can add it now or at the very end. Beat the eggs with some milk and salt, and pour over the softened courgettes (the egg mixture should slip between the courgettes, but not cover them completely). Immediately distribute the mozzarella over the omelette and dust with the sweet smoked paprika. Cover the pan and let the omelette set. If using parsley, add after the pan has come off the heat. Serve with crusty sourdough bread and a green salad.

Pasta with Portobello mushrooms, tomatoes, spinach and chick peas

Just a simple vegetable medley. I stirred some smoked aubergine pesto through the pasta, which rounded things off quite nicely. Celery and carrots in the new box, so the last two Portobello’s will be going into Nigel’s bolognese. Can’t wait!

happening :: being :: beginning

:: three days ::

:: no cooking last wednesday, but indian take-out shared with my aunt and uncle. they came around for a cup of tea, and ended up staying for dinner. the best time. they are the sort of people who make you feel good and relaxed, even if the conversation is about something difficult.

:: my sweet boyfriend made a fruit salad (strawberries, blueberries, kiwis) on thursday for us to munch on while watching another epic episode of Our Friends in the North.

:: found these little baking tins at the thriftstore. there are twelve of them, and not one is exactly like the other. love that. I think I'm going to spend this friday afternoon browsing Breakfast, Lunch, Tea to find a recipe for something to bake in them. (if you're not familiar with that book, definitely check out the 'look inside' feature on the phaidon-site. it's perhaps the prettiest cookbook I own.) lemon tartlets? apricot and almond?

also, when I washed them, I guess I didn't take the teatowel to them fast enough (or, let's be honest, at all. just let them dry on the rack), and they developed these little spots of rust. anyone know a quick way to get rid of those?

- anne