Cinnamon balls and macaroons

The French macaron has become hugely popular, presented in many colours and sandwiched together with fragrant fillings of passion fruit or chocolate. These are from a selection in New York with the most unnatural looking colours (specially the blueberry).

The photos at the top are perhaps the ancestors of this concoction: the almond macaroon. They are soft biscuits made from very few ingredients: freshly ground almonds, egg whites, sugar and, for decoration, whole almonds or pistachios.  The secret of making them light is to bake them in a fairly hot oven for a very short time, so the outside is set and just crisp, and the inside is chewy.

A variation on this speciality, which we always eat at Passover when normal cakes and biscuits are off the menu, is the cinnamon ball. Same ingredients, with the addition of ground cinnamon, which makes the mixture brown and gives a sweet, spicy taste.

The festival lasts for eight days and during that time instead of normal bread, we eat only unleavened bread or matzah (see the previous post).

It’s actually more complicated than that, because to keep strictly to the laws of Passover we don’t eat anything containing flour, yeast or baking powder so we need to be inventive with biscuits and cakes. Ground almonds or hazelnuts take the place of flour and we make dumplings for soup from ground matzah meal.

Passover Matzah

Today is the second day of Passover, one of the three most important Festivals in the Jewish calendar.  Many of these occasions centre on family and food, but none more than Passover, which involves not just eating a celebratory meal, but the telling of a whole story at the dinner table.

The story is the Exodus from Egypt, as recounted in the Bible. After centuries of slavery, the Israelites (as they were then called) watched as the Egyptians and their ruler were struck by ten devastating plagues, culminating in the death of every first born child.  It was this last horror that eventually allowed the Jews to leave Egypt. And then came the miracle. They passed through the Red Sea on dry land, while their captors and pursuers were all drowned. This sobering story is retold every single year, in every country of the world where Jews are living, so that their children will remember how they were brought from slavery to freedom. The message is one that resonates to this day, with so many people suffering at the hands of persecutors or dictators.

What is the significance of the dry flat bread called Matzah that we eat for eight days at Passover? It is a symbol of hardship and a reminder that when our ancestors finally escaped from Egypt, there was no time for their bread dough to rise, so it was baked as flat cakes, Matzah.

For a whole week observant Jews eat no bread, croissants, buns, cakes, pizza or anything else that is called chametz, and make sure there is not the slightest trace of any of these everyday foodstuffs in their homes. A challenge and a reminder.  A celebration and a tradition.

1^st night of Passover - waiting for dinner

This photo has great significance for me.  It was taken on the last occasion when we invited the London part of our large family to the Passover Seder meal (you can read more on Sunday about the meaning of it all).  There’s no-one in the picture and this is for two reasons: one, I don’t actually put up photos of any of us, and even if I did, after the Seder meal begins we don’t take photographs as we are involved in the serious business of telling the Passover story.

The picture reminds me of the beautiful tablecloth (which was handed down from my mother and grandmother); also the glassware and silver cutlery, all of which were lovingly cleaned for the occasion. Finally there are spring like daffodils and little peppers as table decorations.  I always loved entertaining, and still do. This year we won’t be in London and are celebrating the Festival with the members of our family who live in America.  For the past few days we have been in New York and now we are in Boston.

I am grateful to Son No. 1 and his wife and family for the huge amount of work they put in to entertaining a large crowd for a week, with delicious food and stimulating conversation and discussion.  

Cut it out

The Government’s dietary advisor has come up with the radical suggestion that people should halve the amount of dairy foods they eat.  In a move to cut the level of obesity, currently very high in the UK, Public Health England (PHE) says men should consume only 200 calories of dairy products per day while women should have 160.  This seemingly low amount means that one large latte could put a woman over the recommended daily limit. Even a small portion of cheese from the amounts shown in the photos below would be unthinkable.

The move has been heavily criticised by nutritionists, MPs and not surprisingly, the dairy industry, who accuse PHE of putting public health at risk with its ‘baffling’ advice. They also seem to be ignoring the value of calcium in the diet of children and teenagers.  But calcium is found in spinach too, so perhaps there is an opening for people to exploit that green vegetable.  After all, if we can be persuaded to drink juice from wheatgrass, why not a spinach cappuccino?

What is professional?

A new series on BBC TV called Crème de la crème continues the Bake Off theme, but this time the competitors are professionals at pâtisserie.  There is none of the banter of the Bake Off presenters, nor the glowering looks from Paul Hollywood’s piercing blue eyes.  Mary Berry is absent too as it’s not a calming presence that is needed for these participants.

Instead we have chef Tom Kerridge and three judges - all top pastry chefs from kitchens like the Savoy in London. Now here’s the interesting part: the contestants are all professionals in the dessert department too. It’s not as if they have never made a mille feuille or a religieuse; they know their ganache from their crème anglaise.

The photo at the top is certainly not professional. It’s one of mine, and although I’m a long time food writer I have never worked in a professional kitchen. The summer fruit tart is good enough; crisp pastry, perfect fresh apricots and berries under a glaze made from melted apricot conserve. How the judges would have slated my offering.  They would literally have picked it to pieces, pointing out that the fruit was uneven in size and the glaze was patchy.

This new series is based on a French TV show of similar format. Called Le Plus Grand Patissier, that one is twice the length, but has a similar benign and non-combative approach. Here in the English version, Tom Kerridge has a permanent grin on his face and his role seems only to tell the contestants how long they still have to go to complete the tasks.  The teams start off full of enthusiasm, buoyed up by their already successful careers, and keen to face the challenges of making 3 dozen elaborate layered cakes before embarking on a set piece which would have been a trial for a chef as famous as Escoffier.

Sugarwork, sauces, cake making, piping, caramel, mousses, moulds, - all these have to be mastered. Thirty tiny cakes have to be produced with the judges taking a ruler to each one, to check the measurements. A standard recipe Lemon Meringue Pie has to be converted into something magical and different, in order to win the set piece part of the programme. One contestant creates  lemon scented dry ice wafting into the air in a white cloud. But for the judges, It’s not enough that the in the ‘new’ lemon meringue pie, the meringue is inside instead of on top. Everything has to be “precise, precise, precise”, with the judges glowering “I’d like more innovation. This plate of dessert: I will not remember it.”  A strawberry jelly is marked down because the idea of including balsamic vinegar overpowers the flavour. A lemon tart is  “lovely, zingy”, while another has “too much acidity”. One judge complains of a meringue: “the sugar level is too high” (how could it be otherwise given the required balance of sugar to egg white to make the thing work at all?)

The contestants don’t cry. They keep smiling. They mumble about the judges“she’s hard, the little one” and in the end the competing chefs pat each other on the back and go back to their restaurant kitchens.  I think what we’ve learned from all this is possibly what we already know: that pâtisserie making is an exact science and success can probably never be achieved in a pressured environment with the clock ticking.

So I don’t aim to be a professional.  I am inspired by the experts and will continue to strive for perfection. But at the end of the day it’s not like surgery where lives depend on it.

Sharing childhood recipes

Many of us have a wish to perpetuate the food of our childhoods.  Few of us actually get to writing cookbooks, and there is a reason for this. It’s one thing to put together a collection of favourite recipes: quite another to come up with a professional looking book that will compete on the shelves of bookshops with the offerings of TV chefs and long-standing food writers.

I have much admiration for those who publish their own work. My own recent novel SEXTET won a competition and was voted “One of ten outstanding books” when it was launched. But even that didn’t help with a little known fact: self-published books will never get a review in a newspaper.

So I approach Errol Anderson’s work with a mixture of sympathy and intrigue.  I like the sound of the food he describes, developed from a mixture of English cuisine and traditional Indian spices. Many of the dishes sound familiar to me: Mulligatawny soup (lamb and dhal), Butter Chicken (a staple of Indian restaurants) and Tandoori Masala Fry (chicken and yogurt with the red colour from chilli powder and tomatoes). The ‘intrigue’ actually makes me want to try Lamb korma with potatoes, Coconut rice with cashews and raisins, and a milk sweet that you cut into diamonds.

Yet there is something not quite professional about this book. There is no index. The pages in different colours do not make up for photos that have been taken without a tripod and in poor light. The text hasn’t had the benefit of an editor, so the not-quite perfect English of the author makes the introduction hard to read. 

I wish Mr. Anderson well with his collection.  I am sure his relatives and friends will be happy to see in print dishes they must have enjoyed at his table. If you would like to buy a copy, please click here.

A big cupcake

No it isn’t. It’s just that I have no baking equipment to make small ones, so I put the mixture into a foil pan and cooked it like a cake. Trouble was, there wasn’t really enough of it, so it’s not what it should be, high and fluffy.  

Never mind: the buttery taste of the cake mixture is very appealing and the thin layer of coffee icing on the top, drizzled with plain dark chocolate, makes it look good.  Who needs croissants for breakfast when you can have something like this!

The recipe (with my topping, not theirs) comes from The Hummingbird Bakery which has been providing Londoners with American cakes and desserts for over 12 years. With six bakeries across the capital, The Hummingbird bakery ‘serves traditional American cupcakes, layer cakes, brownies, pies, tray bakes, cheesecakes, whoopie pies and more in their range of irresistible desserts’.

Now here is a confession: I have never bought any of their offerings, but if I wanted to impress, I think I’d go for the incredible looking Rainbow cake.

Much as I love baking, I can’t imagine the work that goes into the preparation of this multi-layered concoction.

Hot and salty

Pitted olives are often stuffed with something red and it’s usually a small slice of cooked red pepper. But the ones in the picture seem to be filled with the much more agressive chilli. Chilli is not for the faint-hearted; a few slivers will render a dish hot and spicy and munching on whole Piquin chillies from Mexico provides an interesting heat that takes a few seconds to kick in.

I had a friend who was born in Libya. He had a passion for extremely hot food and taught his Finnish-born wife how to make the dishes of his childhood. One of his favourites was Chraime, a firm fish, bathed in a sauce of intense heat and flavour. The ingredients include garlic, tomato paste, cumin seeds, sweet paprika, hot red chilli and dried sweet peppers. This is actually a Sephardic Moroccan dish, but I was reminded of it when I saw these tiny peppers peeking out of the olives. To find the recipe for Chraime, please click here.

The olives themselves remind me of an embarrassment in my childhood.  I went to an English girls’ school and the meals were dire. One of the items they served at lunch (they had no idea about nutrition then) was a large, half cooked jacket potato, topped with baked beans pouring down over the edge.  At break time - around 11 am - we were allowed to eat chocolate biscuits, which we could buy, or sandwiches which we brought from home.  So this is what I did. My mother prepared a sandwich every day and the idea was that I would fill myself up by mid morning so I wasn’t hungry when the dreaded lunches appeared.

My sandwiches were elegant, with the crusts cut off.  They were often cheese, or egg with tomato or cucumber.  But my mother, an inventive cook, had devised one that she loved (and to be truthful I quite liked). This was cream cheese and sliced olives.  But since the girls often shared the sandwiches between them, the embarrassment came, as none of them wanted to try my cream cheese and olive ones. How vulnerable we were then.  Not standing out from the crowd was the main consideration.  

Mont Blanc

In the centre of this display of cakes from Selfridges Food Hall in London is a cake with a French  name, Mont Blanc.  As soon as I saw it I remembered it from long, long ago when my mother used to make things like this.  She was a professional chocolate maker and had also trained at the Cordon Bleu so she knew about French pâtisserie.This particular pastry is made with a base of sponge cake and topped with whirls of chestnut cream that have been passed through a machine that makes the soft, spaghetti like strands.

What sets it apart from quickly produced cup cakes is that the chestnut mixture is made from freshly peeled and roasted chestnuts, which are then mashed into a purée, sweetened with vanilla sugar and extruded on to individual cakes. The topping is sweetened whipped cream. The whole thing has a delicate and profound taste and each mouthful has to be savoured.

If you have to cheat you could get away with buying a tin of French sweetened chestnut purée and mixing it with whipped cream. Each spoonful should make you feel as if you’re in a little café in Montmartre. Incidentally, it’s called a Mont Blanc - ‘white mountain’ - because it looks like a snow capped mountain.  The Swiss version is sometimes called vermicelles. Whatever the name the dessert dates back to an Italian cookbook of 1475.

Garlic

The Guild of Food Writers has both new members and those who have been writing on the subject for many years. One of my friends from the Guild, Jenny Linford, comes into the experienced category. So it’s no surprise that she was commissioned to write a comprehensive guide to the use of garlic. She has included dishes that well deserve their fame: Chicken with 40 cloves of garlic, Hummus made from dried chick peas and Garlicky Goose fat Roast potatoes. Then there’s Babaghanoush from the Middle East and Tsatziki from Greece and Pan fried spinach leaves from Italy. None of these are new, but no book on this ubiquitous bulb would be complete without them.

Jenny’s skill comes in also choosing dishes that are bang up to date: Chicken with Saffron or with Chinese chives,  Bulgogi (Korean Beef strips), or Thai-style fish with fried garlic. There is something here to appeal to everyone - provided of course you don’t have a dislike for the main ingredient.

Years ago the British were fearful of garlic.  They confused the smell with a fear of foreigners and as often happened, shied away from any kind of cooking that ‘smelt different’.  After the end of the war in 1945, imported foods eventually began trickling back into the UK, under the influence of writers like Elizabeth David. In the 1950s garlic made its appearance on the pages of cookbooks and eventually on to British tables.  No wonder that cooks were recommended just to 'rub the salad bowl with a cut clove of garlic’ (something Jenny calls 'an elegant way of adding garlic notes’) rather than to leap into gutsy recipes like the mellow, cheesy Tartiflette. No potato dish could be further from the standard English mash of the period.

The book is full of passion and lore, with great photography by Clare Winfield. We discover that there is a Garlic Festival in Gilroy, California, attended by tens of thousands of visitors; we learn how to use wild garlic (ramps) in buttery doughballs, pasta primavera or salmon cooked in parchment.  Best of all, while reading the book, we can almost smell the aromas of olive oil and garlic wafting through the kitchen.

My own favourite is Ajo Blanco, a white gazpacho from Spain which is a perfect soup for a summer’s day, with pounded almonds, sherry vinegar and halved green grapes. Coming a close second is Gremolata, crushed garlic cloves with chopped parsley and lemon zest - perfect as an accompaniment to grilled tuna or meats.  Third on my list is Garlicky chicken livers with pomegranate molasses. That just has to be a good idea.

Jenny Linford’s book deserves much success. It makes a perfect gift and in fact my copy is going straight to Son No. 4 and his wife in New York when we visit next week.  As lovers of heat, flavour and originality, they will especially appreciate new recipes to add to their repertoire.

To find out more, or to buy a copy, please click here:

Paris offers round-the-clock steaks

Parisiens seized with a sudden hunger for red meat can now buy steaks or sausages at any time of day or night from the capital’s first raw meat vending machine.

It was recently installed in the fashionable 11^th arrondissement by the owner of Basque butchers to give a service when his shop is closed. The machine, which accepts credit cards, supplies sirloin steaks, pork chops and beef carpaccio, as well as Bayonne ham, chicken and eggs. The idea is to get round the strict Sunday opening laws and the reluctance of many shops to open seven days a week. This can’t be a bad idea because staff won’t be forced to give up their weekends and customers will be happy to get their supplies from a refrigerated machine outside a reputable butcher’s shop.

The idea came from Germany where there are hundreds of such machines. Last year a cheesemonger in Pontarlier installed an automatic cheese distributor while Paris got its first 24-hour baguette machine in 2011.  

Good to know that there’s an alternative to buying ice cream when you’re hungry and the shops are closed.

(The steak in the picture is on top of a bowl of ramen noodles and will probably only appeal to those who love rare meat.)

wordpainting:

slightlyignorant:

Very good charts here.

Reading …Everything Else

How does a blog keep coming?The answer is that it is written four times a week (in my case).... Read the rest of this post

Fennel and grapefruit salad

Salads in winter don’t always seem appealing.  But instead of a main course munch of much lettuce and toppings, here is a fresh idea to serve as a side dish.  It’s also perfect for vegetarians and vegans as part of a meal.

The main ingredients are the aniseed-flavoured vegetable fennel, with pink grapefruit or ‘blood’ oranges.  We don’t seem to be squeamish about seeing rivers of blood in films and on TV, but food writers tend to veer away from the vivid association and prefer to call these fruits 'blush oranges’. They arrive from the citrus groves of the Mediterranean between January and April. Waitrose magazine enthuses about them: “the flesh blushes from the faintest flush of red to a deep brooding crimson - an interior secret that isn’t always apparent from the colour of the skin.”

The photo at the top was taken in a restaurant and if I remember, the starter also contained pomegranate and rocket leaves. When using oranges or grapefruit in salads the important thing is to get rid of all the white pith. You can find out how to do it here, from a website called Epicurious. It also gives their detailed recipe which has a fresh sounding mint and lemon dressing. My only variation would be to leave the segments whole, rather than cutting them into dice.

Apricot curls

This may not be the real name of these curly delicacies.  They may also be called ‘apricot leather’ but what is certain is that they are found in the Middle East and much enjoyed by those who were brought up in Iraq or Egypt.  Like leather they are tough to bite but deliver the juicy taste of dried fruit. They make a wonderfully chewy snack but might also be good snipped into salads to add a bit of crunch and sweetness.

If you’d like to make your own, you can click here for a Martha Stewart recipe, or here for a version made with fresh apricots.

Verona fights fast food sellers

The Northern Italian city of Verona - famous for its amphitheatre and the Romeo and Juliet balcony - has decided that kebab and other fast food outlets are lowering the tone. In a recent ruling there will be no restaurants offering mostly ‘ethnic’ or deep fried meals. The Mayor, Flavio Tosi, wants to protect the history and architecture of the city, and this for him includes the typical culture of Verona. 

The cuisine of the city includes creamy polenta and slow cooked duck ragu. The Mayor doesn’t like Middle Eastern kebabs or Greek gyros. In nearby Venice they are considering restrictions to limit mini-markets and trinket shops selling cheap souvenirs.  The Mayor of Venice says 'these are things that have nothing to do with our history and frankly create discomfort.’  Could it be that these outlets are often run by immigrants and that both mayors have a different agenda?

Lonely soup

For some reason a bowl of cream of tomato soup with one chair is a lonely prospect.  (If it were me, I’d be sitting on a sofa, trying to make sure I didn’t spill any of it, while juggling with the TV remote.) This soup was bought at M & S. Marks and Spencer have a reputation for high quality food. Since I love cooking, till recently I hadn’t thought to buy ready made suppers.  But today I though ‘why not?’ and came home with a pot of the creamy tomato soup. It tastes quite different from Heinz or Campbell’s which come in tins, but it still has that sweet, velvety flavour that warms you up and makes you feel happy.  

The two soups below are also single portions, but I like the picture which I took some time last summer. The one on the left is cream of broccoli with a sprig of rosemary and the one on the right is courgette and almond, with a neat courgette curl in the centre for decoration. (For observant readers; yes I know I’ve featured the broccoli soup before, but it does look good, doesn’t it?)

Soup of course needs something to go with it.  The best is some good crusty bread (as in the ciabatta roll in the top picture).  Failing that, you can alternate mouthfuls of hot soup with potato crisps or nuts. This is definitely an activity for one!

Funny fruit

The ones on the right are probably familiar but you may have forgotten the name. They are kumquats, a strange little fruit with sweet skin and tart flesh inside.  They are brilliant, eaten raw or briefly cooked with a little sugar till they collapse, and served with cold meats.

On the left are Buddha’s hand, an unusually shaped citron with finger-like sections, like a human hand. This fruit is very fragrant and in China and Japan it’s used for perfuming rooms and clothing. It is also used as a religious offering in Buddhist temples.  According to tradition, Buddha prefers the ‘fingers’ of the fruit to be in a position where they resemble a closed rather than open hand, symbolizing the act of prayer.

Want to know what to do with a Buddha’s hand?  Click here for five ideas.

Five a day

In the UK we are encouraged to eat ‘five-a-day’ fruits and vegetables for our health.  But what if we were hungry, not having enough food to feed our children, actually needing produce that we couldn’t afford?

We all know there is a huge amount of wastage when food items have gone past their sell-by date. In this country there are very strict health and safety rules, prohibiting the moving and distribution of anything that is considered risky.

In Israel, somehow they have overcome the bureaucracy and they allow thousands of tons of still usable produce to be picked, packed and delivered to those who need it, even though it is no longer officially saleable.

This is done by a non-profit organisation called Leket, run by Joseph Gitler. Leket works to provide food for the growing numbers of Israel’s poor. In 2014, with the help of 55,000 volunteers, they rescued and distributed over 25 million lbs of produce and perishable goods, making 1.5 million prepared meals and a similar number of sandwiches. Food that would otherwise have gone to waste is redistributed to benefit the under privileged.

Yesterday in my post I mentioned the Meaningful Chocolate Company in England. It is companies like this one, and Leket in Israel, that make us proud to be human beings instead of just part of the commercial rat race.

Easter and eggs

This weekend is a holiday. It’s called Easter and is all about chocolate: eggs, bunnies, etc. This is the commercial view of it. But according to the Religious Affairs editor of the Daily Telegraph, the true meaning of Easter is disappearing: ‘a vanishing act worthy of the Easter bunny himself and just as mysterious.’

The Christian festival, celebrated by over two billion people around the world, is quietly being changed. The packaging on all those chocolate eggs has been altered so there is no mention of the word 'Easter’.  Of course, this makes commercial sense, so they can be sold all year round, beginning just after the Christmas decorations have been put away. But the symbolism of the egg and the Christian message that goes with it, is only alive in a few organisations like The Meaningful Chocolate Company, based in Manchester,  who donate the profits of their ‘Real Easter Egg’ to charity.

I am Jewish so we never celebrated Easter. Instead we use eggs at Passover (which often - but not this year - coincides with the Christian Festival) . The picture above shows one of our family’s traditional treats: a spread called Yemma, made from dozens of egg yolks, sugar and fresh vanilla.

Fruity chocolate thins

If baking is a challenge because you don’t have the right equipment, or because you have little time, here’s an idea for the perfect addition to the end of a meal. You could go out and buy a box of chocolates, but I promise that making this will take less time that walking to the nearest supermarket, standing at the checkout and walking home.

First melt some good chocolate.  I’ve used Waitrose best milk chocolate, though many of you might prefer a darker one.  Melt a few blocks in the microwave for a couple of minutes.  It doesn’t have to look completely smooth; the residual heat melts the pieces that still look a bit firm, when you stir it with a spoon.

Then cover a flat dish or board with a sheet of foil. On top of this put a sheet of baking paper. Spread out the melted chocolate. Spoon some mixed dried fruits in little heaps all over it.  I’ve used a Soft Raisin Medley (from M & S). Put the whole board in the fridge for the chocolate to firm up again. This takes an hour or more.

After it is thoroughly chilled cut it into squares and cut off the rough edges. It’s now ready to serve.  A word of warning: because the chocolate is so thin, it does melt quickly, so keep the chocolate squares in the fridge till you’re ready to serve them and hand them round quickly with a tissue or napkin to wipe the inevitable sticky fingers.

Some of you may remember that I have shown these home-made chocolates before.  The reason I am repeating them now is that they are forming part of a new project called ‘Dad’s in Charge’. The theme is food that a stay-at-home Dad can make with (or without) his children. You can’t live on pasta and chicken nuggets all the time!

Boston Baked beans

The authentic recipe for these has a history. The dried beans used to be soaked overnight, then boiled for ten minutes. Spices, molasses and tomato were added and they were then simmered slowly for several hours till they were sweet and sticky. The original dish also contained pork and was popular in communities who refrained from cooking on Sunday - the Sabbath day.

Many Jews also don’t do cooking on Sabbath (Shabbat). So this is is a good dish to prepare on a Friday, so it can be served hot the next day. Even if you have no religious reason for getting ahead, it’s great to have a weekend dish that is rich and filling and needs no last minute attention.

The version I describe here is not slow cooked; it’s something you can put together in minutes. For two people you need one tin (can) of red kidney beans and the same sauce (or marinade) as for the Sticky Ribs in the previous post (just scroll down to find it.)

Drain the beans and rinse with fresh cold water. Put them in a pan with the tomato sauce, adding 10 more dessertspoons of passata to make it more liquid.  Cook over low heat for about 20-30 minutes, stirring occasionally to stop the beans sticking to the base of the pan.

Serve with sausages, salami, cold meats or the Sticky Ribs.

Sticky lamb ribs

Ribs (or spare ribs) can be either beef, lamb or pork.  My preference is for lamb as it comes with layers of fat which simply melt during the cooking, making the meat succulent and tender. When they’re done, the fat separates from the sticky sauce, making it easy to pour it away.

For two people you need 6-8 ribs of lamb or beef on the bone. Put them in a saucepan and cover with boiling water. Add a crushed beef stock cube and when it is melted, lower the heat and simmer for about 30-40 minutes.

While they are cooking make a marinade: the recipe is easy to remember, I use dessertspoons: mix together in a bowl 1 dsp paprika, 2 dsp soy sauce, 2 dsp tomato puree, 3 dsp dark brown sugar and 10 dsp Italian passata (pureed plum tomatoes). Mix it all together.

Preheat the oven to 180C/350F. Remove the ribs from the stock with a slotted spoon and set aside to cool slightly. Then coat the ribs with the marinade spooning it over them to make sure they are covered.

Arrange them in a small baking dish lined with baking paper (this is to stop them sticking as anything containing sugar turns to caramel and can burn on to a tin.) Cook for about 30 minutes, turn them over and continue cooking for another 10 minutes or so, till they are dark red, oily and sticky.  

You can serve them straight away, but it’s better to leave them to cool so the fat will separate as I described above.  Pour it off and reheat the ribs till they are bubbling hot.

(By the way you can keep the stock and turn it into soup: just add some peeled cut carrots and celery, and another beef stock cube, and cook until the vegetables are tender.)

Serve with Boston beans (coming up in the next post), rice or mashed potatoes.

Feed ‘em peanuts

If you feed babies peanuts at least three times a week, it could protect them from developing nut allergies in later life.  This piece of research comes from the New England Journal of Medicine.

The scientists discovered that introducing nuts regularly in the first year of life was enough to build up a tolerance by the age of six, even if the child stopped eating them for 12 months.  All the children in the test had a family history of peanut allergies, placing them at high risk. Recommendation for such children has previousy been to avoid nuts for the first three years.

So the bottom line is that getting children used to nuts early prevents an allergic reaction.  (Presumably they don’t mean the whole nuts and the babies would be fed peanuts in the form of powdered or whole peanut butter.)

University College London has come up with some similar research revealing that starting children on simple vegetables during the first 15 days of weaning makes them more willing to try, accept and like new vegetables.  Researchers asked parents to introduce babies to five vegetables every day as first foods, repeated for a period of 15 days. A month later, babies were introduced to an unfamiliar vegetable - artichoke puree (chosen because this vegetable is rarely eaten by children).  It turns out that babies following the ‘15 day’ test plan ate about twice as much of the artichoke as other babies who somewhat 'disliked’ it.

It seems that the purpose of the test is to introduce babies to a great variety of vegetables - not great quantities.  So parents were encouraged to introduce vegetables with varied flavours and colours.

When my children were small we fed them first, for some months, on baby rice and fruits - which were considered bland or sweet. The new plan seems such a good idea and would certainly do no harm.

Unlike the peanut experiment, the researchers haven’t followed through for long enough to find out whether a baby who likes artichokes or say chicory, will continue to have sophisticated tastes by the time he/she is five or six. But it would be good for their lasting health if they developed a liking for vegetables early.

Yesterday I was in a restaurant sitting opposite a mother and a teenage boy.  She ordered chicken and salad for herself and chicken and chips for him.  When the plates arrived, he pushed away the cole slaw and some other salad on the side, fussed that his charred chicken leg was burnt and sent it back for another portion to be cooked, while he devoured the chips and waited for some ketchup to arrive.

Of course I kept silent.  I was dying to tell the mother that by cooking with children I have watched as they make, and enjoy grating carrots and cabbage for cole slaw, and playing with beetroot juice and yogurt to make patterns on the plate.  I’m sure it’s never too late to change a child’s eating habits and that the whole dreaded issue of vegetables can be solved once the cooking and eating is made into a game, rather than a struggle.

Find out about my book Lookit Cookit - kitchen games for curious children here.

Caponata

This is a Sicilian dish featuring aubergines (egg plant).  This vegetable can be cooked in many ways and most restaurants often get it wrong. One of the worst mistakes is to serve up ‘grilled’ aubergine slices that have attractive lines but are hardly cooked inside. Cauliflower, carrots, corn, spinach - these can all be served raw, but there’s nothing worse than an uncooked aubergine - it really does taste awful.

So the one thing to get right is to fry the aubergine well and then add flavours to “embellish and enrich it until the end result is an opulent and almost baroque achievement”. These are the words of Italian food expert Anna del Conte.

So how is it done?  I was inspired to try it after eating the dish in Carluccio’s restaurant in London. Then, what a delight, I found his exact recipe on the web, here.

But that’s not the end of the story.  Food writer Felicity Cloake has experimented with many different versions and her definitive comments and recipe can be found here.  

My own concoction contains no capers or olives (traditional in Sicilian cooking) and has a surprise element.  Preparing aubergines often involves salting them first, but since this method was chosen to counteract possible bitterness and modern aubergines don’t have that disadvantage, there seems little point in this half hour step. There is, however, one thing that most cooks agree on: aubergines are like sponges in that they absorb a huge amount of oil.  I have discovered that if you microwave cubes of aubergine for a minute or so, this stops that happening and you can then fry them in far less oil.

So my suggestion would be to follow the master Carluccio himself with my one variation.

Have fun. Caponata is a brilliant dish, served either cold as a starter, or hot as a side dish.