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SERVES 4
5 tablespoons white wine vinegar
½ teaspoon black peppercorns
2 tablespoons golden caster sugar
a generous pinch of flaky sea salt
4 just-ripe pears
400g celeriac or parsnip, peeled and cut into small 2cm pieces
1 tablespoon runny honey
1 tablespoon white miso paste
2 tablespoons wholegrain mustard
200g pearled spelt
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
2 heads of bitter salad leaves (see note above)
50g blue cheese
Put 4 tablespoons of the vinegar, the black peppercorns, caster sugar and salt into a saucepan with 100ml of water and bring to the boil. Meanwhile, peel the pears, halve them and scoop out the cores with a teaspoon. Lower the pears into the pickling liquid, lower the heat and leave to cook until tender (about 10 minutes). Remove from the heat, cover with a lid and leave to rest.
Preheat the oven to 200ºC/180ºC fan/gas 6. Roast the celeriac in the oven on a baking tray, with a little oil, for 20 minutes. Mix the honey with the miso and mustard. After 20 minutes take the tray out of the oven and add 1 tablespoon of the miso mixture, toss through the celeriac, then return to the oven for a further 5–10 minutes, until crispy and golden.
Meanwhile, cook the spelt. Bring a pan of salted water to the boil, then add the spelt and cook for 20–25 minutes or until cooked through and tender. Mix the remaining miso mixture with the remaining tablespoon of vinegar and the olive oil, drain the spelt and toss in the dressing.
Once everything else is ready, tear all the leaves from your bitter lettuces and lay on plates. Top with the spelt, celeriac and the pickled pears and crumble over the cheese.
Quick carrot dhal
This dhal has its roots in South India. It comes together quickly but has rich layers of flavour which might lead you to think it had spent hours on the hob – pops of mustard seeds, warming cinnamon, everything I love in a dhal.
The turmeric and carrots make this a vibrant sunny-hued bowl, and on top lies a colour pop of sweet-shop pink radish pickle. I serve it with poppadoms scrunched into shards over the top for a welcome bit of crunch. We have dhal in some form or another at least once a week, and this is one I keep coming back to. If you really wanted to speed things up you could do all your grating in the food processor.
SERVES 4
2 cloves of garlic
1 green chilli
a thumb-sized piece of fresh ginger, peeled
1 red onion, peeled
coconut or vegetable oil
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
1 teaspoon coriander seeds
1 teaspoon black mustard seeds
1 teaspoon ground turmeric
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
200g red lentils
1 × 400ml tin of coconut milk
600ml vegetable stock
6 carrots, peeled
2 large handfuls of spinach
juice of 1 lemon
FOR THE PICKLE
a thumb-sized piece of fresh ginger, peeled
1 green chilli
1 unwaxed lemon
2 handfuls of radishes
1 tablespoon nigella seeds
1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
honey or agave nectar
a bunch of coriander, chopped
TO SERVE
plain yoghurt
cooked brown basmati rice
a few poppadoms
Finely grate the garlic, chilli and ginger (I use a sharp Microplane grater; if your grater isn’t quite up to the job, finely chop them), then coarsely grate the red onion. Put a large saucepan on a medium heat, add a little oil and everything you have grated and cook for 10 minutes until soft and sweet.
Pound the cumin and coriander seeds a bit in a pestle and mortar, then add to the pan with the other spices and cook for a couple of minutes to toast and release their oils. Add the lentils, coconut milk and stock to the pan and bring to a simmer, then turn the heat down and bubble for 25–30 minutes. Meanwhile, grate all the carrots and add those too.
While that is cooking make a little pickle to go on top. Finely grate the ginger, chilli and the zest of the lemon into a bowl, then use a coarser grater to grate the radishes into the bowl. Add the nigella seeds, vinegar, a squeeze of honey, half the coriander, a good pinch of salt and mix well.
To finish your dhal, take it off the heat, then stir in the spinach and allow it to wilt a little, stirring in the other half of the coriander and the juice of the lemon too. Pile into bowls and top with the radish pickle, spoonfuls of yoghurt and brown basmati rice. At the table, crumble over your poppadoms.
Beetroot, rhubarb and potato gratin
This might just get the all-time gratin crown. There’s gentle comfort from the potatoes and cream, with an unexpected pop of sweet acidity from the rhubarb, a foil for the unrepentant earthiness of the beetroot. The lively warmth of the pink peppercorns tops things off. It’s a pretty beautiful-looking dishful too; there are some amazing colours at play: whites, neon pinks, magenta and the dots of fluoro pink peppercorns – you’d struggle to find one pinker.
I tend not to cook with a lot of dairy but here I make an exception, using the best I can get my hands on. Vegans might try this with almond or oat milk, or even some vegetable stock in place of the creams. I make the stock for this with about half the powder or stock cubes that the packet suggests, so the flavour of the stock doesn’t overwhelm; if you have homemade stock (see here), all the better.
SERVES 4–6
butter, for greasing
1kg potatoes, preferably waxy ones, such as Desiree or Charlotte
500g cooked beetroot (the ones in vacuum packs or home-cooked), peeled
300ml weak vegetable stock (see note above)
300ml double cream
150ml sour cream
2 bay leaves
2 teaspoons pink peppercorns or ½ teaspoon black peppercorns
200g forced rhubarb, thinly sliced
Preheat the oven to 200ºC/180ºC fan/gas 6. Butter a large gratin dish.
Peel the potatoes and slice them very finely – a mandoline or the fine slicer attachment on a food processor is the best way to do this; just watch your fingers if you’re using a mandoline. Cut the beetroot into fine slices as well – they don’t have to quite be as thin, so you could cut them with a knife.
Put the stock and both the creams into a large saucepan, along with the bay leaves and 1 teaspoon of the peppercorns. Bring the liquid to just under the boil, then take off the heat and leave to sit for 30 minutes or so. Remove the bay leaves, leaving the peppercorns in, then bring the liquid to just below a simmer. Add the sliced potatoes and cook gently for 5 minutes.
Remove from the heat, season really well with salt and pepper, and spoon half the potatoes into the gratin dish. Put half the beetroot and rhubarb on top, seasoning as you go, then top with the rest of the potatoes and their cream, followed by the rest of the beetroot.
Roughly bash the remaining pink peppercorns in a pestle and mortar and sprinkle on the gratin. Bake for 1 hour, or until the vegetables are completely tender. Cover the top with foil after about 45 minutes if it looks like it is becoming too dark.
Butter bean stew with kale and sticky blood oranges
This is a seriously comforting bowl. Sweet spiced beans, burnished blood oranges and the bright green goodness of kale, all topped off with a hazelnut and sesame seed crunch; full of flavour and texture. It’s quick but nourishing, with the satisfying depth of a pot that’s been very slowly ticking away on the stove for hours.
SERVES 4
olive oil
3 cloves of garlic, finely sliced
1 x 400g tin of chopped tomatoes
2 bay leaves
a small bunch of thyme (4 or 5 stalks)
1 red onion, finely chopped
2 x 400g jars or tins of butter beans, drained (or 250g home-cooked beans, see here)
2 blood oranges, or normal oranges, peeled and sliced
1 tablespoon sherry vinegar
1 teaspoon honey
300g curly kale, leaves pulled away from the stalks and roughly torn
100g hazelnuts
2 tablespoons sesame seeds
the zest of 1 unwaxed lemon
1 tablespoon sumac
feta or goat’s cheese, to serve (optional)
Fill and boil the kettle. First put a little olive oil into a pan, add 2 cloves of the garlic and fry for a minute or two, then add the tomatoes, herbs and a good pinch of sea salt and simmer for 10 minutes.
Meanwhile, heat a frying pan on a medium heat, add a little oil, then add the onion and the other garlic clove and cook for 10 minutes until soft and sweet. Add the butter beans to the tomatoes, then half fill the tomato can with hot water from the kettle, add this too and simmer for 10 minutes.
Once the onions are cooked, add the blood oranges, sherry vinegar and honey to the frying pan and cook for 3–4 minutes until the orange slices are starting to caramelise and catch around the edges. Add the kale, put a lid on the pan, turn the heat down and cook until wilted, about 8 minutes. Meanwhile, roughly chop the hazelnuts and mix with the sesame seeds, the lemon zest and 2 tablespoons of olive oil. Fry in a pan on a medium heat for 2–3 minutes until crisp and starting to toast brown.
By now the bean mixture should be nicely reduced. Remove the thyme and the bay leaves, season and add a good drizzle of olive oil.
Serve the beans topped with the kale and oranges and a good sprinkling of the hazelnuts, sumac and sesame seeds. Crumble a bit of feta or goat’s cheese over the top if you like too.
One-pan squash, caper and kale pasta
This may not be for traditionalists, but I think this way of cooking pasta is clever – the starch from the pasta water comes together to make a velvety, creamy sauce that you wouldn’t get if they were cooked separately. I’m not suggesting all pasta is cooked this way, but when a quick dinner is needed this is where I look.
You can swap in any pasta that cooks in about 8 minutes. I’ve gone for a wholewheat rigatoni here, but I’ve had success with normal, quinoa and corn pasta too. I use Delicata squash, but you could use butternut squash instead – the skin is tougher, so it’s best to peel it.
SERVES 4
1 small Delicata squash (about 400g)
250g curly kale
2 tablespoons good olive oil
3 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
350g pasta (I use wholewheat rigatoni or penne)
the zest of 2 unwaxed lemons
½ x 400g tin of green lentils, drained
a pinch of dried chilli flakes
½ a vegetable stock cube or 1 teaspoon vegetable stock powder
2 tablespoons baby capers, drained
50g Parmesan (I use a vegetarian one)
Halve the squash and scoop out the seeds, then thinly slice the squash halves into half moons about 5mm thick. Strip the kale leaves from their stalks and roughly tear any big pieces. Finely slice the stalks, discarding any particularly sinewy ones.
Heat a tablespoon of the olive oil in a large shallow pan over a medium heat and add the squash with a generous pinch of flaky sea salt. Cook the squash in the pan for about 10 minutes, stirring every couple of minutes, so that the pieces of squash start to catch and brown at the edges. Fill the kettle and put it on to boil.
Once the squash has had its 10 minutes, add the garlic and kale stalks and stir for a minute or so before adding the pasta, lemon zest, lentils, chilli, stock cube and a litre of water from the kettle. Cover with a lid and cook on a medium heat for 6 minutes.
Next, remove the lid and add the kale leaves and capers. Cover with the lid for a couple more minutes, until the kale is starting to wilt and turn bright green. If your pasta is a little dry you can add a tiny bit more water, about 100ml. Remove the lid and simmer for another 2–3 minutes, until the water has been absorbed, then take the pan off the heat and stir through the remaining tablespoon of olive oil and half the Parmesan. Taste and add a little more salt if needed, then leave to sit for a minute or so before piling into bowls and topping with a good grating of the remaining Parmesan.
Turmeric and coconut baked aloo gobi
There is something grand and celebratory about roasting a vegetable whole. It becomes a centrepiece, which is something I think people look for in vegetable-centred cooking. The food I make most nights celebrates vegetables in some way, but cooking them whole like this takes a cauliflower one step further: golden and crackled, its colour intensified, in all its glory as nature intended.
Whole roasted cauliflower is something that has been finding its way on to restaurant menus the last couple of years, partly due to the cauliflower renaissance spearheaded by vegetable magician Yotam Ottolenghi. Burnished and browned, a whole cauliflower is such a pleasing thing to put in the middle of the table, with a sharp knife for everyone to cut brave wedges for themselves and uncover the buttery clean white inside, a sharp contrast to the crisp and highly flavoured outside.
This is my favourite way to eat cauliflower: the sweet note of coconut milk, the punch of ginger and green chilli, the earthiness of mustard seeds and the clean spiced note of turmeric are perfect sidekicks to the neutral-flavoured, buttery roasted cauliflower. I add some halved potatoes to the pan to absorb the coconut and lemon goodness. There are few things which are as friendly in the way they soak up flavour as a cauliflower.
SERVES 4
1 large cauliflower or 2 small ones
600g potatoes
4 tablespoons coconut oil
a thumb-sized piece of ginger, peeled
4 green chillies
4 cloves of garlic, crushed
1 tablespoon black mustard seeds
2 teaspoons ground turmeric
1 x 400ml tin of coconut milk
1 unwaxed lemon, cut in half
TO SERVE
thick Greek or coconut yoghurt
almonds
a small bunch of coriander, leaves picked
Preheat the oven to 220ºC/200ºC fan/gas 7. Fill and boil the kettle.
Using a pair of scissors cut the large leaves and stalks away from the cauliflower. You can leave the little leaves close to the florets – they will go nice and crispy when roasted. Turn the cauliflower upside down and, using a small paring knife, carefully cut a hollow in the middle of the stalk, so that it cooks evenly. Take a pan big enough to hold the cauliflower, half fill it with water from the kettle and bring it to the boil. Season the water with salt, then immerse the cauliflower and simmer for 6 minutes. Drain the water away, put the lid back on and leave the cauliflower to steam in the residual heat for a further 10 minutes. Meanwhile, cut the potatoes into 2cm pieces, leaving the skin on.
Take an ovenproof dish or pan (that can go on the hob as well) large enough to take the cauliflower. Spoon in the coconut oil, and grate the ginger into the oil. Finely chop the chillies, discarding the seeds if you wish, then add them to the pan. Add the garlic, then place over a medium heat and let the spices and aromatics cook for a few minutes, until fragrant. Stir in the mustard seeds and continue cooking until the garlic has softened, then add the turmeric and a big pinch of salt.
Pour the coconut milk into the spice mixture, stir well and season with a little black pepper. When the milk starts to bubble gently, turn off the heat, place the drained cauliflower in the dish, then baste it with the coconut-spice mixture. Throw the lemon halves into the side of the dish too, then scatter the potatoes around; they will sit in the coconut milk.
Bake the cauliflower, basting it occasionally with the spiced sauce in the dish, for 40–45 minutes. You want it to catch a little on top. To test if the cauliflower is cooked, insert a small sharp knife into the middle – it should be really tender and the potatoes and cauliflower should have soaked up most of the sauce. Once it’s perfect, take it out of the oven and transfer to a serving dish, then squeeze over the roasted lemons. Serve in the middle of the table, with little bowls of yoghurt, almonds and coriander for sprinkling on top.
Wholegrain spelt, date and molasses scones
These are not scones to keep in a tin but scones to eat warm, with salted butter and tea. These are everything I want from something baked on a cold day: rounded deep sweetness from molasses, caramel notes from the dates and maltiness from the spelt.
I have intentionally made them in quite a small batch; they are very quick to whip up and taste much more decadent than their ingredients might suggest. You can use whatever black tea you like here – I love the bergamot kick of Earl Grey, brewed strong, but I can imagine a smoky lapsang souchong might be amazing.
MAKES 6
125g pitted dates
150ml freshly brewed strong black or Earl Grey tea
125g wholegrain spelt flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
¼ teaspoon ground allspice
¼ teaspoon flaky sea salt
30g cold unsalted butter, cubed
1 tablespoon molasses
75g buttermilk or thin natural yoghurt
FOR THE GLAZE
1 organic or free-range egg
1 tablespoon milk
a handful of rolled oats
Preheat the oven to 200ºC/180ºC fan/gas 6. Line a baking tray with baking paper.
Soak the dates in the hot tea for 15 minutes, until the tea has cooled a little. Mix together the flour, baking powder, allspice and salt with your fingertips, then add the butter until the mix looks like breadcrumbs. You could also do this by pulsing it in a food processor.
Drain, then roughly chop the dates and add them to the mix, along with the molasses and buttermilk. Mix slowly and lightly until the mixture forms a soft but not too sticky dough. Shape into a rough round ball, place on your prepared tray and use a knife to score across the top to mark out 6 portions, stopping before the knife reaches the tray; it should look a bit like a loaf of soda bread.
Mix the egg and milk for the glaze with a pinch of salt and brush it over the top, then sprinkle with the oats, pressing them into the dough lightly to stick them down.
Bake for 15 minutes, then turn the tray and reduce the heat to 180ºC/160ºC fan/gas 4 and continue to bake for about 10 more minutes, until the top is a dark golden brown and when you turn the scone over and tap it, it sounds hollow. Serve warm from the oven and break up as required. The scones are very good with the curd here.
Brewing your own kombucha
We have been drinking kombucha for years, mostly when I have travelled to visit my sister in LA where it seems to be as available as water. When I started drinking it every day I noticed really positive changes in how I was feeling. Back home I have found it harder to get my hands on and it’s very expensive so I started brewing it myself. I am sure it has helped us ward off a few winter colds.
Kombucha is a drink that’s been around for thousands of years. It’s a sweet fermented green or black tea with a bubbly character that I think is totally delicious. Kombucha has been widely praised as being good for you as it contains digestion-supporting probiotic enzymes that lots of us are lacking in our diets. It supports the healthy bacteria in our guts and can help improve our digestion and how we absorb the nutrients from our food. By making kombucha yourself it will be completely raw (some commercial ones are pasteurised) so it has maximum health benefits; you can also control the fizziness and how long it’s brewed to your taste.
The first thing I will say is that I’m not an expert; brewing kombucha is a huge topic and there are books and blogs entirely devoted to the subject. The brewing process is pretty simple: all you need is a bit of time, food (sugar) and good bacteria to create the brew (the scoby). Outlined below is how I brew mine and so far it’s been very successful. Before I started I was quite daunted by the process but after you’ve done it once you’ll get into the rhythm and it becomes really easy. Before you brew I recommend you read this explanation a couple of times; it may look like a lot of information but if you have a level of understanding it makes the process easier and quicker.
The scoby
The scoby, which stands for Symbiotic Culture of Bacteria and Yeast, is what you will need to ferment your tea. A scoby is a very strange-looking thing that I am weirdly fascinated by; it is like a big rubbery pancake. You can buy scobys online but as they are live they multiply so there are lots out in the world waiting for owners. A kombucha-brewing friend will have one or a quick search on the internet will probably unearth one for free.
The water
Filtered or at the very least boiled water is essential for kombucha brewing as some of the chemicals in tap water can affect the fermentation process.
The tea
You can use black or green tea but I prefer the flavour of my kombucha when it’s made with green and it will be lower in caffeine. Flavoured and herbal teas don’t work, as I discovered when I tried to make a batch with Earl Grey; it’s best to add any flavours after brewing. The caffeine in kombucha contains only about a third of that in brewed tea.
The sugar
The scoby and the fermentation are fed with sugar. It may seem like you are adding a lot of sugar but during the brewing process it will turn from a very sweet tea into something far less so.
The alcohol
Whilst your kombucha is brewing, it will contain a very small amount of alcohol, about 0.5 per cent. It’s all part of the fermentation process, but it’s something to bear in mind if people are sensitive to alcohol and I certainly wouldn’t give kombucha to children.
The equipment
— 1 large or a couple of smaller teapots or jugs to brew your tea
— 1 × 5- or 6-litre jar or kombucha crock (mine has a tap at the bottom)
— a clean piece of tea towel or muslin to cover
— a piece of string or a rubber band
— a funnel
— 4 × 1-litre bottles to store your finished kombucha
The ingredients
— 1 scoby
— 500ml pre-made kombucha tea (shop-bought or from your last batch)
— 250g sugar (I use golden caster sugar)
— 4 litres filtered or boiled water
— 2 heaped tablespoons green or black tea
The method
First brew your tea. Bring your 4 litres of pre-boiled or filtered water to the boil and pour it over the tea leaves of your choice; I do this in a couple of teapots and measuring jugs. Let it steep for 20–30 minutes, so it’s good and strong.
Add the sugar, stir to dissolve then allow the tea to cool. This step is important as the scoby will die if it’s too hot.
Remove any metal jewellery and from this point on don’t use any metal sieves or spoons as they react with the scoby. Get the jar or crock you are using for the brewing and pour in the pre-made kombucha. Add the cooled tea, then carefully place the scoby on top of the mixture. Cover the jar with a piece of fabric and secure it with string or a rubber band. Some kitchen paper would also work; you just want air to be able to pass into the jar. Place the kombucha container in a place where it will not be disturbed, out of direct sunlight. I leave mine on my work surface where I can keep an eye on it.
The fermentation can take anything from 7–14 days, depending on the heat of the room, the scoby and how you like your kombucha. The longer you leave it the more acidic it will become. During the brewing process it’s normal to see things happening in the brew: the scoby moving, bubbles of air. After a few days the surface of the tea will start to look opaque, this is your new scoby forming and a very good sign.