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Thursday Cookie Blogging: Dark Chocolate Shortbread

Indulge yourself.

I'm feeling a bit indulgent these days. Daughter Number Two leaves for college in a few weeks, and I want her to have fond memories of home. Chocolate, I've discovered, is ideal for creating fond memories.  (Probably, it has more to do with baking together, and less to do with taste, but either way, it works.)

So I made some chocolate shortbread, which normally calls for yucky butter. As faithful readers know, I have an aversion to all dairy products, and can taste a smidgen of butter in a cookie the way a sniffer dog identifies plastic explosive. So of course I used non-hydrogenated margarine instead of butter, and wonderful dark chocolate from Green & Black's.

It was incredibly easy, and in a very short time I had an indulgent treat. One slice was just enough for an afternoon tea. Although I think these Dark Chocolate Shortbreads, with their flakes of 72% dark chocolate, go better with a nice red wine.

Daughter had hers with some chocolate syrup. Fond memories, indeed.

Wednesday Food Blogging: Roasted Beetroot Rice Pilaf with Za'atar

Who spilled Cabernet on the rice?

My veggie delivery box again included beetroot, which is what the British call beets. I'm not a particularly big fan of beets, or of beetroot. As my daughter says, they taste like the ground. Beetroot is very popular in Britain, however, probably because no one's noticed they taste like compost. That bright red colour must act as camouflage. I kept thinking of Chinese sweet-and-sour while eating this pilaf.

If your tastebuds aren't deceived by the groovy hot pink shade, try substituting plain old inoffensive carrots in this recipe. You can just chop them and add them with the other ingredients.

American tastebuds may also find za'atar unfamiliar, but don't let the extra punctuation in the name put you off. This Middle Eastern spice mix is easy to like. If you can't find it at your Middle Eastern grocery, try making your own. There are several recipes on the web. It does call for sumac, though, and since that also would require a trip to the Middle Eastern market, I recommend trying to find the mix itself. Easy for me to say; Middle Eastern markets are sixpence a dozen in London.

And beetroot, too, is all too easy to find, particularly this summer, when floods have ruined other, more edible, crops, like broccoli.

Here's a nice slogan for you enviros: Global Warming: Tastes like beetroot.

Wednesday Food Blogging: Grilled Pizza

Pizza blazes away on the barbie.

I'm not much for grilling. I don't like playing with fire, not since my neighbor's house burned down when I was in kindergarten. But fortunately I'm married to Mr. Heat Transfer, so we occasionally fire up the barbie and, while I stay well away, Mr. Heat Transfer grills whatever I tell him to. (For a guy named after a physical process, he's very compliant that way.)

So one Friday afternoon, while the sun regained its prominence in our pale English sky, I decided to test his grilling skills with Grilled Pizza. I'd been pondering such a feat for a while, wondering if the pizza should be cooked before facing the fire, or if the coals alone would be enough to bring a heretical pizza dough to its proper end. While Mr. Heat Transfer was at work, I prepared a suitable dough and cut up an array of delectable vegetables, including eggplant (aubergine), portabellos, and red onions. Mr. Heat Transfer concluded the grill must not be too hot, else the tender vegetables might meet their end unduly rapidly, so he scooted the coals off to the side to dilute their firepower. It must have worked; there were pretty grill stripes on the vegetables, which is what you want, not a pulpy blackened mess.

Then he carefully placed the uncooked pizza dough onto the grill, which required much courage in the face of flames. But Mr. Heat Transfer is not afraid of flesh burns, secure as he is in the knowledge of entropy and other heretical thoughts.

The pizzas bubbled up delightfully and met their end with grace, done to a godly perfection even Rome would approve of.

Meanwhile, Daughter Number Two joined in the fun. She decorated her pizza the way she wanted, including artichokes, mushrooms, and the heretical chevre. (I have prayed to the Goat God to forgive her transgression.)

The dough recipe, which made enough for two good-sized pizzas, took about 2 hours from start to finish. During that time I prepared the vegetables, and Mr. Heat Transfer grilled them (instructions included below) while Daughter Number Two rolled out the dough with a chilled wine bottle. (This adds a certain cachet to the pizza, depending on your wine choice.)

The final result? Excellent, a crispy crust with perfectly anointed toppings. Mr. Heat Transfer could show the impious louts at Pizza Hut a thing or two when it comes to cooking pizza. And kudos to DNT, whose ways with a wine bottle demonstrate a potential for future ungodly intemperance.

Wednesday Food Blogging: Blueberry Scones

Note: I forgot to post this yesterday, but I think there's still 2 minutes left in Wednesday on the Pacific coast.

Plump blueberries peek out of their scones.

Yesterday I bought blueberries at the Marylebone M&S, an impulse purchase, I admit. But they looked good in their chic plastic punnet, and were half price. Which, at Marylebone, is still expensive. (I once saw bouquets of roses there for £120. Aimed at the guilty commuter market, I'm sure.)

Anyway, it's cold enough that something warm from the oven seemed like a good idea, and I actually welcomed the extra heat from the oven. (Those of you "baking" in America can just pretend I'm in Australia. Or Antarctica.)

I adapted a recipe I've fiddled with before and made Blueberry Scones. It's easy to throw together in a few minutes, and they bake in a jiffy.

Plus, scones are naturally vegan. I've never seen a scone recipe that calls for eggs, and soy milk and margarine work as well as their dairy counterparts. I substituted orange juice for the vanilla, and added some almond meal, which just seems to go well with blueberries.

The result, while slightly undercooked (I was hungry) was soft and moist, unlike those scones you buy in bakeries.

If you're inclined, you can replace all the white flour with wholemeal (whole wheat) for a healthier, guilt-free scone. It's cheaper than buying roses.

Wednesday Dessert Blogging: Chocolate Truffle and Raspberry Tart

My daughter, the best daughter in the world, and I'm not talking about her evil older sister, made me a delicious surprise as I labored over my recipes page, cursing the heavens as I toiled in front of the computer screen. At first I thought the chocolate and raspberry juice staining her hands and face were the blood and dirt from the tireless effort--yet she came away unscathed, with a delectable treat waiting in the refrigerator.

Ha! I've seized the keyboard from Daughter Number Two, who wrote the above.

She really should start posting recipes on her MySpace page, and leave my blog to me. But she can claim my kitchen any time she wants.

This recipe for Chocolate and Raspberry tart was featured on the cover of one of my cooking magazines, and she's been reminding me to make it the last few weeks. Of course, it wasn't vegan, and it called for making 4 mini-tarts instead of one big one, and it also used British measurements and terms. So while I struggled with messy HTML, I offered advice, somewhat distractedly, during my chocolate breaks. (Someone had to eat the extra Oreos.)

The result was incredible. She used French soya cream, which soars above American and British vegan cream offerings, and it whips up pretty well too. In fact, I'd say it's better than the dairy version. Those French! Soy clever! (Uh oh. DNT is threatening to take over the keyboard again.)

The end result was plate-scraping scrumptious. If that engineering thing doesn't work out for DNT, maybe she can open a restaurant.

To read how she made this, plus her comments, continue reading.

Wednesday Food Blogging: Asparagus and Broad Bean Risotto

Yes, I made risotto again.

On Monday my organic box included a big bag of broad beans. I'd never cooked them before, but having seen them in the markets, I was eager to get my hands on those huge pods.

Broad beans come about five to a pod, lined with a soft fuzz that nestles each bean safely inside. Once you've podded the beans, you then need to parboil the beans to release the seed coating that surrounds each bean, a hard white case that must be removed in all but the youngest immature beans. The bright green beans slip right out after 2-3 minutes in boiling water, followed by a cold water bath.

This means that, from a kilo of beans you'll end up with a tiny portion of actual edible beans. It's a lot of work for such a small amount of payoff.

Is it worth it? Well, the beans were delicious, but not much better than baby lima beans. They were very tender, after only a parboil, but I could have gobbled up the half cup or so of beans in a few minutes.

Since I wanted to share the love, I decided to use them in a risotto, which only needs a smattering of beans, and another vegetable or two, to be complete. In my vegetable bin I found some thin asparagus, about the width of a knitting needle, and with a red onion, this made the perfect spring risotto.

So, if you'll forgive me, here's another risotto recipe, very similar to other risotto recipes I've posted here and here and here. This time I added even more stock, and covered the risotto for longer periods of time between stirs. I think that made it creamier. I added the asparagus at nearly the end, and the broad beans essentially at the end, only warming them up slightly as the beans were plenty tender.

I won't say I'll never cook broad beans again, but I do wonder what persevering soul it was who first discovered the sweet little beans buried underneath all that work.

Wednesday Food Blogging: Quinoa with Chipotle and Black Beans

Chipotle: the perfect cure for jet lag

Last week my daughter's boyfriend arrived from Albuquerque, bringing chiles and salsa. So it didn't take much imagination to figure out what to do with the quinoa in my pantry.

It's been a busy week, and meals that appear on the table in a hurry are much appreciated, as are care packages from New Mexico. The boyfriend left for Stuttgart on Sunday, my husband followed him to Hanover on Monday, and today Daughter Number Two One (sorry, must not post when exhausted!) arrived from New Jersey, where she is now domiciled.

I have jet lag, and I haven't even been on a plane.

For cooking instructions, click below. I served this with sautéed zucchini (courgettes in the U.K., calabacitas in New Mexico), warm tortillas and of course, Sadie's Salsa.

Wednesday Food Blogging: Asparagus and Mushroom Crepes

I can't believe it's vegan.

The other night my daughter was in Germany for a softball tournament, leaving my husband and me alone. So of course my thoughts turned to food.

I wanted to fix something elegant, something fussy. But not too fussy. I am, after all, something of a toss-together cook, and that's not going to change with one recipe.

I had some fresh English asparagus, and mushrooms I'd picked up at the farmers market. All that was needed was a simple crepe batter of flour and soy milk and a deft hand with the spatula. My hand is not so deft: I ended up ruining a few crepes, but in the end I had 6, just enough for the bunch of asparagus.

With a lovely tossed salad alongside, it was a very nice light meal. Tres elegant, and surprisingly easy as well.

Sorry, Daughter Number Two, you missed a good one. But you did catch some flies, so I guess that's okay.

Wednesday Food Blogging: Kale with White Beans and Brown Rice

On Saturday my daughter's softball team had a triple header, up near Peterborough. After driving home through a rain storm, and another M25 diversion, we were hungry and too tired to cook, but the thought of three people eating out in this country makes my wallet shudder.

Fortunately I had a bag of chopped kale in the fridge (for some reason, kale comes pre-chopped here) and with the help of quick-cooking brown rice, I soon had dinner on the table. See how easy it is to cook up a vegetarian meal in a hurry? And cheap, too. Do your budget a favor; cook greens and beans instead of steak some night.

Cruciferous greens are kind to you waistline, too, and of course contain cancer-fighting antioxidants, plus calcium for us milk-haters. And with crushed red pepper and Tabasco for a kick in the taste buds, no one can complain there's no there there.

If you haven't tried kale, or you haven't been able to convince your kids to eat it, give this a try. (Maybe you could lay off the Tabasco, for tender young tongues.) Remember, kale, unlike most greens, needs to be cooked well or it is too chewy. Don't worry, though, there are plenty of vitamins to spare.

Wednesday Food Blogging: Curry in a Hurry

Serve over rice.

When I got home from my hike today, I didn't really want to cook, but I did want to eat. Six miles, over gorgeous sunny hills, will definitely put a spark in the old appetite. Plus, I'd been unable to resist the garden centre in West Wycombe, which sells fresh organic produce.

But how to turn that lovely cauliflower and those tiny button mushrooms into something edible without spending another hour or two in the kitchen, on aching feet?

Fortunately, a mixed vegetable curry is deceptively easy to prepare. While the denser vegetables are sautéing in the pan, you can chop the remaining veggies, and toss them in, along with the appropriate spices, when the time comes. The sauce is formed by basic vegetable stock, coconut milk, and tomatoes. (I used already prepared vegetable stock; no need to make it from scratch for this forgiving dish.) Meanwhile, brown basmati rice simmers on the stove, and by the time it's cooked, in 45 minutes, the curry is ready for its final garnish of coriander.

I also fried some onion bhajis, made a sort of raita with soy cream cheese, soy milk, lemon juice and coriander, and by the time Big Ben tolled six times, and my equally hungry daughter walked in, dinner was ready.

Curry in a hurry. Yes indeed.

Wednesday Food Blogging: Vanilla Tofu with Saffron Rice

Tofu: the other white bivalve.

Look closely at this dish. No, I don't mean the food, I mean the dish. It's a piece of Franciscan dinnerware, the Desert Rose pattern. My friend and frequent commenter Nancy noticed I had the pattern from one of my photos—I had a few dessert bowls, a gift from my mother-in-law. So she offered me the complete set from her mother-in-law's estate. I gladly accepted (See? Blogging does pay!) and the four boxes arrived last week. I had fun unpacking them—it included the cutest tiny salt and pepper, shaped like rosebuds! I love china and pretty dishes, and lately have been picking up interesting pieces for food photos. Thanks again, Nancy!

As for the food, I saw a recipe for scallops in a vanilla coconut sauce, and since whatever you can do with shellfish I can do with tofu, it seemed an ideal recipe for veganizing. Vanilla seems to be a trendy ingredient these days. There's a posh restaurant near here which features a menu of vanilla-infused dishes. So I bought a couple of beans, and experimented. The saffron rice was perfect underneath, and those green beans, sautéed with ginger and other Indian spices, were also just the right accompaniment. (I'll post the recipe for those soon, as they were a real taste bud treat.)

A trendy new recipe, and classic old dishes. Perfect together!

Wednesday Food Blogging: Quick Pizza

Pizza. From scratch. In less than 30 minutes. I swear.

What do you do when you come home from an overseas trip, there’s little to eat in the house, you’re tired, your daughter is hungry, and the last meal you had was prepared in a Boeing 777 microwave?

a.    Make pizza from scratch
b.    Call Dominos
c.    Open a package of Ramen noodles; follow directions on package

If you chose a, you’re right. With this quick crust recipe, a few cans, and an almost non-perishable onion, you’ll be well-fed in the time it takes to unpack your bag. Or to call Dominos.

The crust is more like a biscuit crust than a chewy pizza crust, but who says pizzas always have to be chewy? (If you’d prefer the longer, more traditional version, go here.)

I mixed up the dough, and then left the rest to my daughter, who’d already made brownies to welcome me home. She chose to add canned Portobello mushrooms, jalapenos, and some soy cheese, while I grilled an onion. Other toppings would work equally well, including grilled aubergine (eggplant), courgettes (zucchini), red peppers, sautéed spinach, black olives, red onion, slightly blanched broccoli, or artichokes.

Within half an hour, we had piping hot pizza on our plates, without even invoking the name of Dominos.

Easy instructions follow:

Wednesday Food Blogging: Triple Smoked Quinoa Pilaf

A menage-a-trois of smoke flavours.

If you’ve never had quinoa, you really ought to give it a try.

Quinoa is a grain from the Andes, and it’s very high in protein. It’s also very tasty, not quite as starchy as rice, not as grainy as couscous, not as lumpy as barley. It’s unique, with a taste that easily adapts to any type of cuisine.

I had bought some at a health food shop in Cornwall—I’ve never seen it anywhere locally. Some exotic grains just haven’t caught on here yet. I started making a pilaf, tossing in whatever looked good, and as we were eating, the smoky taste reminded me I’d used three smoked ingredients: tofu, paprika, and dried tomatoes. None of them were overpowering, however.

I served this with some roasted leeks and a green salad.

Remember to pronounce it “KEEN wa” if you want to sound knowledgeable.

Wednesday Food Blogging: Gigante Beans and Polenta

And on the Seventh day, She made beans.

There’s nothing like Sunday afternoons for puttering around the house and simmering beans. Sundays are made for beans. The shops that bother to open close early, to allow people plenty of time to go home and cook beans. Churches, too, close their doors to penitents after noon, as everyone knows there’s nothing more forgiving than a big pot of beans.

I spent my Sunday hovering near a fragrant pot of limas, or giant butterbeans. Gigantes, they’re called in some Mediterranean regions. I forgot to soak them overnight, but beans, remember, are forgiving, especially if you live near sea level. They stayed soupy, and when served with a slab of polenta, were the perfect meal.

I think even Daughter Number Two liked them, though she insisted she could taste the wine. (Maybe that’s because I kept adding more.) Think of it as Communion wine, I told her, forgetting completely that we don't even attend church.

For instructions, click below—there's no need to wait till Sunday!

Wednesday Food Blogging: Red Onion and Kale Risotto with Roasted Root Vegetables

Those wedges in the back? Delicious turnips.

More and more, it seems my meals are centered on what's in my vegetable box. That's not a bad thing, but you must be flexible. I needed to use up some red onions and kale, and as I mentioned the other day, my cupboards are overflowing with risotto rice.

Thus was Red Onion and Kale Risotto born.

That's one of the things I love about risotto. You can take a basic recipe—olive oil, risotto rice, stock, and wine—and toss whatever you've got in your veg bin into the mix. You feel like a goddess when you present your family with a bowl of steaming, aromatic risotto.

And when you cleverly disguise turnips with a sweet ginger glaze to serve alongside, you are surely a magician.

I happen to like turnips, even when they taste like turnips, but these roasted niblets rose above the turnip genre. Try them this way if you've turned up your nose at turnips in the past.

Next, on to the the kolhrabi and fennel.

Wednesday Food Blogging: Irish Potato Cakes

Irish Potato Cakes, with caraway seed scattered on top

I bet you're wondering what to make for St Patrick's Day, which is right around the corner. Or maybe you have some leftover mashed potatoes in the fridge and were wondering what to do with them.

Fortunately you don't have to wait for a special occasion to make Irish food, since there aren't that many Irish special occasions. Or rather, every day is a special occasion if you're Irish. Just having enough food on the plate to stave off famine for another day...well, nowadays the Irish and their descendants are a pretty well-fed bunch, but they haven't forgotten the old days, and would never, ever throw away perfectly good, albeit cold, mashed potatoes.

Irish Potato Cakes are a great way to use up leftovers, but they're also a quick way to get bread on the table when your bread bin is bare. Children can be employed in the rolling and cutting (I use a juice glass). The caraway seeds are optional, a rather decadent flair.

In the time it takes me to type this, you can have them in the oven. Here's how:

Wednesday Food Blogging: Winter Vegetable Stew with Mustard and Chive Dumplings

What to do with your veg delivery box.

On Monday I came home to a big box at my doorstep. I got my first delivery from Abel & Cole, the vegetable box delivery scheme I ordered from.

I began unpacking, and unpacking, layer after layer: lettuce, a huge red pepper, leeks, kiwi fruit, fair trade bananas, baby red onions, Jerusalem artichokes, the biggest parsnip I've ever seen, filthy carrots, and dirt clods I later discovered were potatoes.

It was dinner time, but what was I to do with a box of filthy produce?

I started washing and peeling, tossing veg into a roasting dish as I chopped it, then poured a liberal glug of olive oil over all, added some sprigs of rosemary, and popped the whole thing in the oven. Some leftovers rounded out the meal, but the next day, I still had lots of veg left in the box.

While I was at the dentist I had a great idea: dumplings, simmering over a winter vegetable stew. I'd seen a recipe for mustard dumplings in a magazine a few months ago, but it was long since consigned to the heap of foodie mags I keep meaning to recycle. Google and a bit of Waitrose wholegrain mustard provided the inspiration, however, and those lovely pebbly pillows were soon bubbling away in their stew.

I added the leftover roasted veggies to the stew, which is why some of the parsnips are chunkier than others, but it only added to the complex flavor.

Next time, I'll order a smaller box, minus the exotic fruit. Note to self: Buy a vegetable scrubber.

Wednesday Food Blogging: Jerusalem Artichoke Soup

This time of year, there are lots of small, knobby vegetables at the local farmers' markets. Some of them are Jerusalem artichokes, also known as sunchokes, despite the fact they appear in winter when sun isn't around much.

Maybe they're called sunchokes because they're a cheerful little vegetable, happy to take on whatever flavour you pair them with. I turned mine into soup, then minced some chives over the top. In my next bowl I added a shake of nutmeg and some truffle oil (an olive oil blend) and that was nice too.

This made enough for a cozy little supper for two, with some bread to go with. (That's how they talk in Wisconsin, dangling prepositions left and right.)

If you're not afraid to spend some quality time with a vegetable peeler, here's how to bring some winter cheer into your life:

Wednesday Food Blogging: Baked White Bean and Rosemary Spread with Focaccia

On Sunday we were invited to a friend's house for drinks. I offered to bring a snack, but of course all the stores were closed, so I had to rely on pantry staples.

The situation called for bean dip. And if you're serving Baked White Bean and Rosemary Spread, of course you need focaccia bread to go with it. Fortunately I had some flour and rock salt, and the day I run out of olive oil is the day you can rest assured I'm resting in peace. 

All I needed were a couple of hours for the dough to rise, and another hour to punch it down, let it rise again, and bake that baby. I used my time wisely. I cleaned the living room, washed a couple of loads of clothes, and prepared the bean spread.

My friend served a sparkling Spanish wine (non-Champagne) with a splash of cassis (blackcurrent liqueur), and we devoured the bread, slathered with bean dip, some olives, and stuffed cherry peppers. We had a divine time.

Spur of the moment invitations are so nice, don't you think?

Instructions below, for both the focaccia as well as the bean spread. Bon appetit.

(This recipe has been edited for clarity.)

Wednesday Food Blogging: Vegetarian Gumbo with Smoked Tofu

Mardi Gras, next Tuesday. You will want to parade and eat gumbo.

Forget Valentines, it's Mardi Gras that's the real February foodie holiday around my house. And Mardi Gras means gumbo, or maybe jambalaya, or some other New Orleans treat.

Gumbo is a real family affair around here, or "dumbo" as my youngest daughter used to call it. My husband likes to make the roux, without which no gumbo is gumbo. It's a heat transfer experiment: too much heat and the whole thing could burn. Too little and it never turns to a mahogany color, the way gumbo roux should. (There are other kinds of roux, as well, used in less intense dishes. A white bechamel sauce is made from a basic white roux, for instance.) All a roux is is equal parts oil and flour. And some fat-conscious people have even browned flour without the oil. I can't vouch for that, but go ahead if you must.

Traditionalists will argue over the addition of tomatoes or tomato sauce to gumbo. I like to add some tomato products, especially with vegetarian gumbo, where veggies are the stars. This version uses smoked tofu instead of the chicken or duck carcass typically thrown into the pot, but you could also use vegetarian sausage or some other veggie product.

The other vital ingredient is okra (the name “gumbo” is thought to have derived from the word for “okra” in various Bantu dialects from southern and central Africa) though some say that file powder substitutes for the mucilaginous thickening effects of okra. No, it doesn't, so use okra, and filé, if you have it. (Filé powder is sold in most U.S. supermarkets in the spice section, and is made  from ground sassafras leaves.)

I bet you didn't know there was so much to know about gumbo. And I haven't even got good and started—we could talk about the many cultural distinctions of Cajun and Creole foods, but suffice it to say, do not underestimate the Cajuns. Otherwise the Cajun juju will get you for sure.

Here are some instructions for making gumbo. (See updated notes at the end for easy substitutions for smoked tofu, which isn't often available in the US.)