Sally Oliver's blog

Juniper

Took parents to Juniper in Cotham last week for the father's birthday. He was paying as usual so perhaps not the best birthday present...The parents had heard about the place from a Bristolian acquaintance they had made on a cruise so we were expecting great things...

Juniper is quite a small and very purple place, I imagine Prince (or is it 'Squiggle'?) would feel at home. Purple tablecloths, purple walls, purple carpet and canvasses that had been painted purple to match. A pet hate of mine, these 'makeshift paintings'. Probably the most dull wall dwellers in the history of decor. What happened to interesting photos and proper paintings? Most restaurants I've been to lately appear to have featured in 'Changing rooms', or perhaps, unbeknown to me Linda Barker has relocated to the South West?

The menu wasn't purple and was quite exciting. It was topped by a suggestion of a speciality G & T or a champagne cocktail with peach liqueur and elderflower. We declined these however and perused the food whilst munching on 3 different versions of tasty slices with really good butter. Then we waited,and we perused some more. The waitress came and poured a beer over my mother. I went to the loo, which was a hike up a vertical cliff face of purple stairs. The loos were noteworthy for being the only 'ladies' I have come across to offer large baskets of assorted, foreign, sanitary items in each cubicle as well as deodorant by the sinks. Wasn't sure what to make of this. The mother is always one to comment on loos, in fact seems to visit establishments purely to 'spend a penny' and then report back-  the source of much humiliation in my teenage years. She should write a blog. Unfortunately, as she walks with a stick she was unable to scale the purple Everest so I was deprived of her verdict.

Back to the table and to the menu. Finally the waitress arrived, we cowered, no drink was thrown. I chose the 'Wild mushrooms , pan fried with rosemary, madeira, cream, served on a toasted brioche with crispy three cheese croquette and beetroot syrup.' What a mouthful. And it was. Probably the largest starter I have ever tackled; delicious aromatic, peppery sauce but it could have been a veggie main  and I had to abandon tradition and leave some on the plate!  G had the oak smoked salmon with crayfish, crab and prawns, 'ooh look it's one of those 2 spoons things they do on Masterchef'. 'A quenelle?' I proferred haughtily. The father was presented with 'herb crusted sea bass, pea custard and caper hollandaise'. This was a Jackson Pollock of a plate with smudges and splashes of colourful goo. I took one look and was convinced the Father wouldn't approve. Shows what I know as he ruminated thoughtfully and then proclaimed it to be 'very nice'. ( in other words a mighty 4 stars in 'The father guide'.  The mother had 'baked goats cheese with tomato and red onion chutney, char grilled artichoke, herb salad and balsamic caramel. I think she liked it but I was too busy dealing with my mushroom- induced food coma to pay attention.

Mains next. I had the chicken stuffed with cream cheese and chorizo with succotash, potatoes dauphinoise and a light tarragon jus . I ploughed sadly in, like a trooper on a food mission, still stuffed from the mushrooms and miserably waving goodbye to any ideas I'd had about the trio of chocolate with sour cherry compote for pudding. 'Succotash' in case you're wondering, as I was, appears to be undercooked chunks of sweet potato with sweetcorn, in a tin of chopped toms with a kilo of smoked paprika thrown in for good measure. It conjured up memories of the University 'stew' I used to make and was wholly horrible.The chicken was huge, tasty but huge.

 The mother was rewarded with a respectful, raised eyebrow for her demolition of her Rib eye Somerset beef with smokey tomato, red pepper and roquefort stuffing, baby onions, chips and cabernet jus. The father had the same, although his was a whacking great slab of beef. Are we in America? For such a small place the food was super-sized. G had the welsh lamb with thyme flower honey and lamb reduction. He liked it so much he offered to let me sample it (rare, very rare- not the meat, G sharing food) I had to decline (damn those mushrooms.)

None of us could manage puddings, which was disappointing as there was a 'warm spiced orange sponge with white, chocolate and orange custard and vanilla bean ice-cream' and a plate of welsh cheeses with fresh pineapple and wild mushroom preserve on offer, (though I'd quite happily not meet with a mushroom for a while after the epic starter.)

We plumped for coffee back at the parent's hotel, due to the lack of accessible loos. Expected the bill to be reasonable with starters at around the £7 mark, mains between £13.95 and £18.95, little to drink and no pudds, but we were charged a hefty £3.50 a bottle of water, £3.50 for a small bottle of San Miguel (the father nearly fell off his chair) and a 10% service charge.

My verdict: Good food for purple favouring, able-bodied people with a large appetite and wallet. Or just dine out on the mushroom starter.

http://www.juniperrestaurant.co.uk/

Juniper 21 Cotham Road South, Cotham, Bristol

Am on batch number 2 of banana bread now. Have made some changes which have resulted in much lighter, tastier loaf: Reduce sugar quantity to about 130g (demerara unrefined) add approx 100 ml milk, reduce no of bananas to 3 and soak the raisins beforehand in rum. Sprinkle cinnamon on top. I did this in 10 mins while watching the tennis yesterday. V speedy, v tasty!

Free tasty Graze box for friends of A Taste of Europe!

If you've ever wondered why I'm so perky of an afternoon... perhaps not, but I'll plough on... my secret is Graze boxes. I have been receiving a lovely Graze fruit box for the past 6 months, filled with tasty energy boosters such as chocolate dipped nuts, flapjacks, roasted seeds, marinated olives and dried and fresh fruit.

You can let the clever people at Graze choose your box for you, or tailor make your own by rating each food on the Graze website and choosing which to 'bin', 'like', 'love' and 'send soon'!

My personal favourite are Kalamata olives with chilli and garlic, 'bakewell tart' which is a mixture of almonds, cranberries and raisins infused with cherry juice, and golden honey nut hazelnuts; just the thing to get you through the 3 o'clock work slump.

Graze boxes are nutritionally balanced and delivered first class through your letterbox on the day of your choice. There are 2 types of box; the Fruit box, (with 3 punnets inside, one of delicious fresh fruit and 2 nibble punnets) and the Nibble box which has  4 punnets of treats. Both arrive in style, in recyclable card with little bamboo forks and a nutrition card inside.

If you'd like to try a box for free and also get your second box half price,  go to the Graze website www.graze.com and use the following code TASTEOFEUROPE

Let me know what you think!

Flying fish, Banana bread and Rum Punch... guess where I've been?

Yes, I have been sunning myself in Barbados on my very own honeymoon and you have every right to be jealous as it was pretty fantastic. We did lots of waterskiing, went to see the cricket final and also attended a friend's fantastic wedding at the Sandy Lane country club, (memories of poor G in 34 degree heat in tuxedo..)

The food was fantastic, a combination of the freshest fish, spicy fried food and British colonial influences. The national dishes are pudding and souse (pork chops usually, though pigs heads and trotters traditionally, and sweet potato pudding). Brilliantly named dishes such as 'Cohobbolopot', 'Hoppin' John' and 'Buljol'. The island's most popular fish is flying fish. G does not have fond memories of these as he was repeatedly slapped in the face by them when he rowed the Atlantic, but greatly preferred the peppered, fried version we ate every day for lunch!

Other favourites were fried fish balls, mahi mahi and wahoo (the best named fish in the sea!), a great deal of plantain and the juiciest papaya and watermelon imaginable. We ate lobster and prawn skewers with the island's national dish of macaroni pie (G asked for chips and received a filthy look!) at Oistins friday night 'fish fry'. Cocktails at the Cliff is a must for any visitor to Barbados, the most stunning beachfront location, but at £16 a cocktail you may not want to stay for dinner, (£150 per person for 2 courses... though I am assured the food and service are world class.) http://www.thecliffbarbados.com/index.html

I also enjoyed the best cocktail in memory at Daphnes http://www.daphnesbarbados.com/index.cfm an Apple Strudel made with vanilla vodka, green apple puree and a dash of apple schnapps and then dusted with
Cinnamon- delicious!  

Back to Bristol with a bang and I am greatly missing the Bajan cuisine. No fear though! As most people collect souvenirs from their travels, I collect cookbooks! and I have proudly accommodated 'Caribbean cooking' alongside 'Creative Basque cuisine' and 'Pure Finnish flavours'!

No matter that the flavour combinations and local recipes never seem to taste quite the same back home in the rainy surrounds, (note to self: Parmesan and honey is fabulous in a mountain tavern in Trentino but will be grounds for divorce if presented to G on a Friday night) they transport me back to sunnier or more exotic climes in a nano-second.

So to spice up your lives a little here are a couple of recipes. The ultimate rum punch and Bajan banana bread (I ate this every single day for 2 weeks :)

Bajan Banana Bread

220g whole-wheat flour

1 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp salt

100ml olive oil

185g brown sugar

2 eggs

6 medium bananas (very ripe is best)

2 tbsps molasses (optional)

raisins and chopped nuts (optional)

1 tsp cinnamon

1 tsp nutmeg

1 tsp clove

1 tsp vanilla essence

1. Preheat oven to 180C. Grease 2 medium loaf tins and line with baking parchment.

2. Place all the ingredients in a bowl and mix until combined (don't over mix)

3. Place in the loaf tins and sprinkle with extra cinnamon and sugar.

4. Bake for 50 mins, or until an inserted skewer comes out clean. Lift out of the tin and cool on a cooling rack.

Proper Bajan Rum Punch

1 measure of lime juice, freshly squeezed

2 measures of sugar syrup

3 measures of dark Caribbean rum, the older the better

4 measures of water

Dash of angostura bitters and freshly grated nutmeg.

1. Place 2 measures of sugar in a pan with a little water and cook until dissolved and add to the juice.

2. Add the rum and the water.

3. Serve with plenty of ice,  a dash of ice, bitters and a grating of nutmeg.

 

Cupcakes forever!

I never used to be an enormous cake fan, preferring chocolate every time to a piece of cake. Then I acquired a friend called Emily who ate a lot of cake and kept buying it for me. She insisted cake had magical properties, and if you ate it regularly you would never get ill. As far as I am aware she does indeed, never get ill, (she is also rather lovely and svelte) so I increased my cake intake (because of their health giving properties obviously) and found that I rather liked it... Now, I am not completely stupid and am aware that if you eat enough cake, not only do you get ill, but you are also likely to be airlifted through your bedroom window- or end up on some hideous television programme either being made to eat the diet of an anorexic person or being instructed to parade naked down a catwalk by Gok Wan- (a warning for our times), I also am not sure of cake's illness-preventing qualities, though I DO feel much better every time I eat it.  BUT I have decided that cake, in moderation IS GOOD.

The definition of cake moderation, according to my fictional cake dictionary (my 'fictionary' if you will), is a cupcake. A perfectly, bitesized portion of calorie-controlled, scrumptiousness. It is apparent that I am not the only one to have cottoned on to the pleasures of the cupcake; the nation, make that the WORLD, is in the grip of a cupcake frenzy. So, are cupcakes just a fad, or are they here to stay?

Well cupcakes have always been around in one form or another. Back in the day, when I was a nipper, we called cupcakes 'buns', (I may have mentioned that I hail from oop North), though I also understood that 'fairy cakes' was a term bandied around too, in more southerly climes. I wasn't an enormous fan of 'buns' as they were usually small, sunken things with an anaemic dollop of transparent white icing which pooled at the edges of the paper case and scarcely covered the top of said bun. There was more often than not a glace cherry perched haphazardly on top, or possibly some hundreds and thousands if the bun maker was pushing the boat out. This was the best version of a 'bun' the small Sally came across. So it was unsurprising I wasn't a huge cake convert until moving to the cosmopolitan climes of ... a city! and coming across the new, improved, American influenced, version,

these!!

Suddenly cupcakes were everywhere and what started off as  traditional school fair fayre became the very height of fashion. The 'Sex and the city' girls munched on the Magnolia bakery's finest whilst aptly discussing crushes, Vogue proclaimed 'owning a cupcake bakery the career fantasy of our times' and the credit crunch saw us reining in the big spending but splashing out on little luxuries. Lipglosses, nail varnishes and cupcake sales soared.

I have read article after article about the rainbow frosted cakes with headlines ranging from 'Cupcakes- the thin woman's indulgence' (a reference to the fashion connotations: see and be seen eating cupcakes, and also the calorie controlled portions: celebratory but restrained) to 'Cupcakes are the new candle!' (gifting trends suited to current financial climate.) We have Sophie Dahl cooking childhood favourites on tv and Jules Oliver producing books about being a 'yummy mummy' Cath Kidston rules supreme and fifties style, homely nostalgia is everywhere.

I decided to track down the best cupcakes in the land (Bristol) and have a new firm favourite.  All hail Swinky Sweets 'Purveyor of Cupcake couture'. I spent a memorable evening at Swinky's launch to test (yes, I'm a martyr to my work) Mr Gareth Couch (aka Mr Swinky)'s offerings. Swinky's makes innovative flavoured cakes: Earl Grey is a favourite, as is 'Bouncing blue bubblegum', Bread and butter pudding with custard topping and Horseradish and white chocolate. There's also a turkish delight flavoured one, Morrocan Mint and _{Lemon Meringue.} At the launch party Mr Swinky was also showcasing his version of 'Red Velvet', made famous in the UK by the Hummingbird bakery, which was utterly delicious. The carrot cupcake was honestly the best carrot cake I've eaten and the vanilla version was far from boring and was lip smackingly good with the perfect ratio of swirled frosting to cake. (The icing MUST be expertly swirled or else you might as well be eating a 'bun'!)

Swinky's don't just proffer cupcakes to the Bristol mob but also make their own fudge, marshmallows and milkshakes as well as an array of kitsch Americana; remember Marshmallow fluff, Wonka's nerds and Lucky Charms? The shop is retro heaven with a candy coloured seating area and if you're reluctant to go public with your cupcake habit for fear of damaging your street cred, you can rest assured: being spotted in Swinky on Bristol's trendy Park street is akin to being spotted in the likes of The Groucho Club. At £1.75 a cupcake (and I've seen cupcakes regularly priced over £3.00) Swinky offers a fabulous, pocket friendly indulgence and solves all my birthday present buying dilemmas.

 

 

 

 

Above: Mr Swinky aka Gareth Couch, cupcake maker extraordinaire, and thoroughly nice bloke.

Left: Bought these for a friend's birthday: triple choc, vanilla (with the pink frosting) and lemon meringue- mmmmmm!

I am something of a cupcake tart however and must give a shout out to my other 2 cupcake favourites ( I don't want to be pelted with cupcakes as I stroll around the village now.... well actually yes I do!)

The Mall in Clifton Village (14 The Mall) has a daily display of the most fabulous sparkly creations, bright blue and pink icing topped off with sparkly coloured balls and glitter, a veritable disco ball of yumminess. There are also chocoholic versions topped off with flakes and curly wurlies. I had a display of these cakes at A Taste if Europe's launch party a couple of years ago. http://www.atasteofeurope.co.uk/index.php?act=viewDoc&docId=9 scroll down on the news page to see pics!

I also have to mention the Arch House Deli at the end of my road, just under the Arches leading into Clifton village. The irrepressible 'Sylvie' runs the place and always advises me of what to cook when I am wandering round the place in a foodie daze. There is a daily selection of scrummy cakes and I highly recommend the Polenta cake with coffee and cardamom icing and the poppy seed and rose cupcake which I had to buy to munch on as I wrote this blog!

http://www.archhousedeli.com/

 

Easter Bake-a-thon!

Oof. Did rather a lot of baking yesterday. Tried out the Delicious magazine macaroon recipe, as promised a month or so ago: a success! Was really rather pleased with myself, although have noted a couple of alterations to the recipe for next time. Also made a lemon cake and strawberry and vanilla shortcakes. Will post the recipes but here are a few pics to whet your appetite!

Making macaroons.. my first ever attempt

Not too shabby!

 

 

 

 

Pink icing..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ta da! Laduree eat your heart out!

 

Lemon cake on the way..

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lemon buttercream filling...

and raspberries..

 

 

 

 

 

 

equal yumminess!

 

 

 

 

Making strawberry and vanilla shortcakes..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

and voila! My little Easter spread!

Wondering what to drink over Easter?

Wondering what to drink over the Easter weekend? My good friend Rob Clatworthy, Manager of award winning restaurant 'The Clifton Sausage' and 'A Taste of Europe's' resident wine expert has some suggestions...

 

Wine for me has to be something that is judged by its value for money and I find nothing more satisfying than discovering a bottle of wine that costs in the region of £5 and tasted like it should cost £50. Don’t get me wrong I don’t mind paying £50 but it’s got to be worth it.Wine does not have to be something that makes people break out in a cold sweat when they try to pronounce the name of some indigenous grape variety at the bar or restaurant table, dare I say it should be easy and fun.

 

I am a real Sparkling wine fan and like nothing more than opening a bottle of Great Champagne but alas the pocket sometimes leads me to try Prosecco or Cava of which some can be great but some not so, my latest find is a Blanc de Blanc from the Saumur region in France.

 

Louis De Grenelle, Cremant De Loire, Chardonnay, Brut.

 The wine maker describes this wine as having a “clean fresh attack, with the palate having a delicate fruit basket'. For me it’s a very well balanced sparkling wine, as near as I have tasted to a wine from Champagne. I drank a bottle with a rare fillet of British beef with chunky chips and it was delicious. Blanc de Blanc translates to 'white of whites' and is normally found describing Champagne made from 100 percent Chardonnay, however it can also be used to describe sparkling wines from other regions. Blanc du Blanc can be found in most supermarkets and in good wine merchants. If you’re a fan of the fizzy stuff and fancy trying something new or even want to give the dreaded Chardonnay another go, I don’t think you will be disappointed.

 

I can’t in all good conscious write about sparkling wine and neglect to mention my favourite sparkling of all; Joseph Perrier, Cuvee Royal, Chalons, Champagne, France.  I was lucky enough to be invited to Joseph Perrier earlier in the year. We arrived on a cold grey day and the town of Chalons was well- very quiet, to say the least! We were treated to a tour of the vineyard and the press, and were given a tasting of the whole range of wine produced.  My favourite is the Cuvee Royal Brut which is produced by blending 35% Chardonnay, 35% Pinot Noir and 30% Pinot Meunier and it is

aged for 3 years. The house’s 21 hectares satisfies 30% of their production. The rest comes from 30 cru’s, on The Mountain of Reims. The wine was awarded the royal crest by Queen Victoria and King Edward to celebrate the wedding of their son Prince Edward.

 

The Cuvee has great depth of fruit flavors and a  long lasting rich finish, it works well with smoked fish and is also excellent just on its own. Thankfully it can be enjoyed at anytime of the day or night. Joseph Perrier wines can be bought from any good boutique wine merchant or good restaurants.

 

 

RC

 

 

 

Last supper and the Delicious Miss Dahl.

Well, what miserable weather. I made the mistake of checking the forecast today, only to be chirpily informed it is going to rain for the forseeable future. Hm. I have not had the best week either so there was really only one thing to be done, other than to start building the Ark.. I went to get my hair done.

Ah! Two and a half hours (yes this is how long it takes) of  endless cups of tea and ‘Vogue’.. (yes Vogue! what did you expect??) Anyway, in Vogue I came across an interesting and very well written article by Sophie Dahl, of the 'Delicious Miss Dahl variety'. Now my personal jury of one is still out on Miss Dahl. A Londony friend of mine met her once and said that she was fretting obsessively about having eaten a tiny sliver of cake. Being very easily influenced, I have always had her down as one of these types who pretends they eat and cook and live in their kitchens, but actually exist on lettuce leaves and air... (Gwyneth Paltrow springs to mind...)

This article was about American, death row criminal's last meals. Yes! a cheery subject! Apparently one of such criminals contacted Dahl to ask if she'd like to set up a business venture. She declined, oddly. When she googled his prison she found that all the death row prisoner’s crimes and last supper requests were listed. An odd thought that lives can be summarised within two categories: 'Misdemeanours, Food’. I think quite telling epitaphs could be produced from such a summary, I wonder what mine would be: 'Sally Oliver,  speeding fines, excessive spending on hair products, crimes to punctuation,  spag bol'. Actually that wouldn't be the case as my last meal is something I have bored G with for years, deliberating over the perfect meal.  Dahl deliberates over hers too, she veers between a poached egg on toast with tarragon mushrooms on the side and a rich french onion soup with gruyere and bread. Both would be followed by a molton chocolate pudding, possibly with some brandy soaked cherries at the bottom, and on this I have to agree with her, kirsch soaked cherries for me. The prison inmates, with barely an exception choose the regional comfort food they ate as a child, lots of southern fried chicken, fries, onion rings, brisket, pecan pie and cheesecake. It makes sense that you would want to depart the world with something reminiscent of a comforting childhood.

It's quite enlightening, this question, as to what childhood foods a person is comforted by. Chefs Heston Blumenthal and Gordon Ramsey would both plump for roast beef and potatoes, (very English, hearty boy food I suppose). My namesake and fellow pasta lover Jamie Oliver would choose Spaghetti followed by rice pudding. (Italian leanings but British roots) Nigella opts for lemon roast chicken, creamed spinach, peas 'a la francais' , fennel salad, potatoes AND mash, (on my wavelength, this is not a time to count calories, though I don’t remember digging into peas any other way than ‘Anglais’ as a child,- from a freezer or the garden.) Raymond Blanc would tuck into shoulder of wild boar with red wine jus. (Good work Maman Blanc’) Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall would insist on cooking his own breakfast consisting of scrambled eggs on granary toast with crisp bacon (rind on) and mushrooms cooked in the bacon fat. (Specific to G standards.)

I had another 2 hours of hair tampering to go, so I texted friends and family, to find out their last supper preferences.:

Big sister chose spaghetti bolognese followed by my dear, departed Grannie's chocolate cake, which was utterly unsurpassed and probably my first food passion. Big sister has the secret recipe apparently and has annoyingly not yet entrusted me to it. I expected 'Charlotte the trader' to site ‘Momo's black cod’ or some such, but stuck to the 'childhood food formula' and opted for cream of chestnut soup followed by roast lamb with rosemary and garlic, mashed swede, cauliflower cheese and leeks 'as long as it was made by my mum - otherwise a curry!', bread and butter pudding to finish. Gosh, Perhaps the more driven you are, the more comforting you need the food! The Mother chose a menu that seems to have been picked from whatever hotel she is currently staying at, her text read, 'Smoked salmon then vegetarian selection or fish platter then creme caramel' I suppose she is leaving the fish platter and veg selection to the prison chef's preference. The father was unfailingly specific, 'Melon, jamon serrano, fish platter (there's that platter again) with lots of langoustines then lemon tart with home-grown strawberries, then blue stilton and biscuits, coffee and trufas and finally Carlos tercero brandy' Phew! ( I have actually witnessed his consumption of the above at many ‘last to arrive, last to leave’ lunches.)

In case you were wondering, (and you have either fallen asleep by now, or are madly compiling your own 'last supper menu'), mine would be as follows:

Sally's last supper menu (hopefully not to be eaten for a good few years.)

To start: Large bowl of moule mariniere

OR Grilled sardines with ample garlic

Main: Spaghetti with more garlic,(let's see if we can knock the executioner unconscious) king prawns, lemon, chilli, white wine and mussels, (if I had the sardine option to start) parsley and a pile of parmesan. (I am flouting the italian laws of fish and cheese on my last day.)

OR: Rack of lamb, dauphenoise potatoes (with lots of cream and perhaps some white truffle) and baby veg.

Grand finale: Molten chocolate pudding with caramel ice-cream and wild strawberries

And there we have it. Now you know exactly what to cook me next time you invite me for dinner! :)

Now I must dash as I want to catch The Delicious Miss Dahl (Tuesdays,8.30pm BBC 2) as I want to see if she actually eats. Leave comments with your last supper menus and I shall apply my amateur psychology to your choices! Stay tuned for next blog: Cupcakes! A far jollier prospect than today's topic and one that I equally obsess over...

 

Mothers day, biscuits and tasty March reader offer!

I am the 'furthest away' daughter, number 3 who disappeared 'down south' ,a visiting prodigal daughter if you will (in my own eyes at least), and therefore have to conjure up postable Mother's day pressie, if I'm not actually venturing home. One of the siblings MUST buy flowers but the big one has bagsied that, middle one is not giving anything away as usual (very secretive) so I am left with the pressie dilemma. Do I go for the old favourites: lavender handcream or magnolia bubble bath? Can't do anything not tried and tested by the Mother for the past 40 years as it will be condemned to live out it's 'best before' years in a cupboard. (The parents DO NOT LIKE CHANGE.) However. They do like food! I am quite reluctant to share my best kept pressie secret with you... but since I currently have.. (quick check), oh yes all of 15 avid readers, I think my secret is still quite safe. Luckily the Mother's technological knowledge does not stretch to being able to read this blog, so she should remain unaware of the fabulous pressie soon to be winging its way through the post to her...(good thing as the 'Dinner party musings' entry may have compromised my 'prodigal daughter' title.

Heard of The Biscuiteers? http://www.biscuiteers.com/ This is my go to website for the most gorgeous iced biscuits delivered through your letterbox!  

You can choose from prettily designed tins filled with suitably themed biccies of your choice for any occasion; new baby ones, cupcakes, birthdays, weddings, valentines and, of course, mothers day.

If a whole tin of biscuits is a bit much, there are mini versions too and if you just want to say hello! or thanks for a favour or 'Please could you look after the dog?' you can send a biscuit card! All you have to do is choose your biscuit card, enter your message and leave the rest to the Biscuiteers. Within a day or so, your friend will find a beautiful postcard-sized box landing on the doormat with your lovely message, just in time for a cup of tea and a treat.

 Biscuiteers do party bags for children and have a new Safari collection (right) with £5 from the sale of each tin going to the Great Ormond Street hospital.

 I chose the 'Kiss it better' collection, (right), which also supports Great Ormond street. Quite appropriate for a ex nurse, mother and biscuit-eater I thought.

And now for the good bit. The lovely people at Biscuiteers would like to offer my readers and A Taste of Europe clients an exclusive offer of 10% off orders for the month of March with the following discount code: TASTY. Just enter this code when placing your order. (offer expires on 8th April and excludes the Safari and Kiss it better ranges.)

So place your orders and claim your prodigal sons and daughters titles... and don't tell the Mother. :)

 

Wilfred's mini muffins.

This is a recipe I made up, based on my own 'healthy banana and blueberry muffins', that I make when I am trying to be good but have a cake craving, (this happens often.) Wilfred is a very sweet little person I know who would happily eat them all day long and has been known to wake from naps demanding 'CAKE!' (his name for them). They are pretty sturdy and little hand-sized so unlikely to crumble all over the carpet. Best of all is that they contain only good stuff and yet children seem to think they are naughty treats.

Wilfred's mini muffin recipe

65g wholemeal flour

65g plain flour

1 egg (lightly beaten)

2 tbsp maple syrup

a few chopped raisins or apricots

1 mashed banana, apple or pear

few blueberries if desired

1 tsp baking powder

3 tbsp milk

3 tbsp olive oil

half teaspoon cinnamon

oats to sprinkle on top

 

• Preheat oven to 160C
• Mix the dry ingredients in a bowl with the chopped dried fruit. Mash the fruit with the oil, syrup and egg and add to the dry ingredients.
• Add the wet ingredients to the dry and ask small person to mix (don't overmix)
• Pour teaspoons of the mixture into mini muffin moulds (I don't bother to grease them as I find they tend to come out of the moulds easily but you can grease if you prefer.)
• Ask small person to sprinkle oats on top. (They will probably be quite over exuberant about this- see Wilf's artwork above, but the more oats the better!)
• Bake for 20 mins until golden brown.
• Eat! (Try to leave some for the small person.)

 

 

 

 

Springtime in Paris and Macaroons!

Just back from Paris, I was there for a travel trade buyers market for the area of Montferrato in Italy, (yes an Italian event in Paris- I was a bit confused too.) Travel buyer workshops give travel companies the opportunity to meet representatives from certain regions; hotel owners, ground agents, restaurants etc and this one was held at the beautiful Palais du la Mairie du V Arrondisement, opposite the Pantheon.

The workshop gave me the opportunity to kill 2 birds with one  stone, find some interesting new ideas for holidays in Italy, and explore options for Paris weekend breaks. I'll be adding the Paris break to my website www.atasteofeurope.co.ukthis week for everyone who fancies a spring trip to the beautiful city. 

It was a bit of a challenge swapping between French and Italian after 4 hours sleep, (very early flight) and I needed a sugar fix to keep me going. Where else but Laduree for a dollop of sugar sweet Parisian perfection?

http://www.laduree.fr/public_en/produits/macarons_accueil.htm.

I picked up a box of the prettiest mini macaroons for a friend's birthday and couldn't resist a couple for G and I too.

 

coffee and pistachio- yum!

I returned home to find my monthly issue of Delicious magazine waiting for me with macaroons on the cover! Took this as a sign that I should attempt their 'easy macaroon' (are you sure?) recipe for Easter, so stay tuned for the results!

    

Makeshift Moroccan

Had a rather long day today, during which I was rained on repeatedly. Needed warming comfort food to transport me to sunnier climes, and had a sudden pang of desire for something Moroccan inspired...

Here is my Wednesday night 'Moroccan' winter warmer (rather delicious it was too).

I cooked some (lean) lamb mince in a dash of olive oil over a high heat, and then added chopped onions, a chopped clove of garlic, a small piece of chopped fresh ginger, a teaspoon of cumin, ground ginger and cinnamon and cooked on a lower heat until the onions had softened.

Added a squirt of tomato puree, and then a can of chopped tomatoes, as well as half a cup of hot water. Left to simmer whilst I prepared the cous cous, (I was hungry so this was only about 15 mins- would ideally leave for 30 mins or more to allow flavours to combine.)

V important note: make sure you have glass of wine at this point (to drink, not to throw in pan- this helps the warming process.)

Bit blurry this one I'm afraid (possibly post wine) but this is cous cous (cooked according to packet instructions: pour boiling water over and leave for couple mins, then fork through.) To the cous cous I added the following:

handful chopped, fresh parsley and basil

grated zest of 1 organic lemon

pomegranate seeds

crumbled feta

chopped celery

2 chopped spring onions

I topped with rocket and a drizzle of olive oil et voila! (or the equivalent in Arabic). A Makeshift Moroccan inspired (if not authentic) meal in minutes.

The Return of Masterchef!

Top class cooking is, to me, like looking into space; too much to understand and fathomless depths to explore. Better leave it to the experts and gaze on, mystified. Well joy of joys! My favourite programme, (bar Nigella in the days pre self-parody, midnight fridge bingeing) is back on tv and we can once again spend our evenings salivating over Masterchef...

Ah.. the shiny-eyed passionate (often deluded) contestants wielding knife skills and ill-advised food combinations. Wine nosed John Torode with his golloping (I know this is not a word, but should be) mouthfuls. Gregg Wallace the 'jumped up green-grocer' (the father's words, not mine) who repeats the actually knowledgeable Torode's comments every time, except when presented with a dessert, in which case he just utters 'scrummy!' and (I think we all know) scoffs the lots off camera. The voice over lady with her sterotypical contestant descriptions... 'mother of two Helen', 'phd student Rob'.... 'ex-con Barry', 'professional pole dancer Sheila'  (alright I made the last two up). The pointless 'professional kitchen' round- which strikes fear into all contestants, separates the wheat from the chaff, etc, and yet never has any impact on the results.

I am yet to decide which version I prefer: Masterchef amateur, or the professional version, the latter presented by the utterly brilliant Michel Roux junior, he was judge extraordinaire, offering fatherly advice at ever turn, his sheer brilliance even rubbed off (very slightly) on Gregg the green grocer, who I noted, made some decent comments for the first time ever. Celebrity Masterchef, isn't in the running as I am highly dubious about Jayne Middlemiss's culinary prowess.

Masterchef 8.30pm BBC 1

'Man Salad' (Vegetarians look away now.)

I was away over the weekend and was greeted on my return to Bristol by a proud G, brandishing photo of his 'Man Salad' (not a euphemism), composed with big brother Ben over the weekend. Ben is undisputed king to G's prince of all things meat related and is basically a bigger, louder, more meat obsessed version of G, (with a beard). When they get together for brother time G returns home sporting a meaty glow and telling stories of guzzling slabs of top notch, imported beef, which they apparently slice up and eat raw. (I joke not.) Ben even has a sideline in providing award winning,organic hog roasts for events, his alter ego is Mr Hog of 'Crackle and Hog' http://www.crackleandhog.moonfruit.com/ 

Anyway, G would like me to introduce my many avid followers to the delights of the 'Man Salad'. G and Mr Hog's version of health food I suppose and no beef in sight. (Please note I waive all responsibility for the below.)

Here is the un-edited recipe:

Man salad according to G and Mr Hog.

Whole breast organic chicken wrapped in parma ham and oven  roasted. Drizzle with olive oil, chop and toss with salad. Salad  leaves consist of chicory, iceberg and 'that other type that also 
looks like chicory'. Buffalo mozzarella, new potatoes, watercress,  balsamic and hard boiled egg.

Does this look appetizing to you? Hm.. I'm not so sure. Comments on a postcard please.

Sweets for my sweet

Valentines day dilemma: What to get the G who has everything?   Luckily I had discovered a gorgeous new shop in Boyces Arcade in the village called 'Sweetie pie' and trotted along to buy a jar stuffed full of retro penny sweets of my choosing. I opted for red jelly hearts, foam backed mushrooms and sherbet pips (basically all my favourites, but surely Valentines day is all about sharing??) I couldn't resist and popped back in a couple of days later and bought another couple of jars. Giant strawberries for the middle sister (her favourites this time) and a variety of red jellies (red for luck) for my chinese friend, for chinese new year, topped off with colourful bows. 

Sweetie pie's owner Vanessa Clark told me a bit about her shop:

A Taste of Europe: Why did you decide to set up Sweetie pie?

Vanessa Clarke: I'd been off work since having my second child and in that time I have tried to come up with an idea that would enable me to work for myself. I had been thinking of a shop for some time but needed to think of something the village did not have and needed.I read a article earlier last year about the resurgence of traditional sweet shops and immediately realised that this could work. The village has loads of families, students, visitors and there is nothing like this. I had been to a number of traditional sweet shops in London and Bath with my children and knew how well they go down.

AToE: Why Clifton village?

VC: I always planned to open a business in the village. This is where I live and where my children go to school so I wanted a business that would be close at hand and which could be flexible. When I saw units to let in The Clifton Arcade I felt they would be an ideal size and location for what I had in mind.

AToE: What is your favourite sweet and the most popular in general?

VC:  My most popular sweets are rhubarb and custard and strawberry Bon bons. All the Liquorice Sweets are very popular as are the sherbet pips, sweet peanuts and pear drops! Black jacks and fruit salads are also a definite hit.

AToE: Why do you think there has been a resurgence of interest in sweets/ cupcakes/ all things sweet and retro recently?

There has definately been a resurgence in sweet shops and a general nostalgia for all things retro. People get very excited when they come in the sweet shop, they love to reminisce about the sweets of their youth and there is a real feel good factor about sweet shops. When I was researching the shop I did find out that there are a lot of new sweet shops opening around the UK. I believe that in a recession sweet shops do ok because they are quite a cheap treat that people don't mind spending money on.

Sweetiepie is a colourful emporium of nostalgia, and at £4.50 a jar, a credit crunching way of gifting: I'd far rather receive a jar of pink bon bons, milk bottles and sherbet pips than a bottle of non descript vino any day. Yum.

Sweetie pie, Clifton Arcade, Boyces Ave.

Lasagne and chocolate mousse.

Every time I go to London I get a bit overexcited.. which usually leads to overindulgence. It's probably the Yorkshire upbringing but I always feel like a child in a sweet shop: too much to see, do and consume! By the second day I have a London stomach ache and am ready to return to the comparative rural greenery of Bristol and detox.

This weekend was no different and I've just recovered enough to write about it. Friday saw a dinner party/ housewarming at my lovely friend Rachel's new pad in Wimbledon. It was an evening of pink Moet, mismatched plates, amaretto in egg cups and inifinite lasagne. G was in his element, after a hard days work, a Friday feast of prolific pasta was certainly up his alley. Rachel had even made 2 different versions: the original meat one (for fussy G types) and another with butternut squash. I have tracked down the recipe: http://www.jamieoliver.com/recipes/beef-recipes/simple-baked-lasagneWe dug into both and peppered our plates with a rocket, pine nut and avocado salad.

After the pasta feast we were presented with jugs and bowls filled with luscious, creamy chocolate mousse. (The kind of thing I find much easier to eat when I haven't seen the ingredients before hand) Embarassingly I was the only one to polish my hefty portion off. Thankfully I did retain a modicum of decency and refrained from eating everyone elses- (though I did harbour dark thoughts about sneaking into the kitchen to scoff leftovers). Then we were on to amaretto, choc truffles and a game of Articulate, which I unbelievably lost! (no comments necessary please- I   blame the amaretto) Charlotte the trader won, (obviously more accustomed to being on the ball with a system full of booze than me! See smug winner on right)

Dinner and games over and we wobbled home. A lesson in laid back, Friday night fun with unpretentious, scrummy, homely food. Not a vol-au-vent in sight.

 

My musings on dinner parties

I am the type of person who LOVES to throw dinner parties. I blame my mother who had me trained the minute I could walk, to wander, (cutely I like to imagine) around our living room, proffering plates of popular 80s 'canapes', ie mini cheddars with a smudge of philadelphia and smoked salmon on top, those anaemic looking, canned, pepper stuffed olives and some form of cheesy wotsit (Sorry Mum.) I have very happy memories of the building anticipation and planning before each of these events, (which seemed to occur at least once a week?!) The guests would arrive: ACTION STATIONS!! The father would appear,greet and take drink orders and then instruct the middle sister to fix these drinks and hand to appropriate person. I would be busily handing out the aforementioned salmon delicacies, maybe even a vol-au-vent depending on the importance of the guest ( I can't think of vol-au-vents without remembering the one I hid on a shelf with a similarly naughty friend in our school library in the sixth form, to see how long it would stay there- it was still there in some form when we left school months on.) Anyway I digress! Back to the main event- My other important duty was coat taking and the middle sister would command me to hold my arms out parallel in front of me and then cover me in coats, which would be transported to middle sister's room (aka makeshift cloakroom.) I don't remember the big sister (not to be confused with the middle one: I was little, then there was the drink making middle one remember?) featuring much in any of this... she was most likely moodily smoking out of her bedroom window or having a goth moment whilst listening to The Cure. Then the mother would make her entrance, resplendant in shoulder pads and a cloud of Giorgio. The walnut veneered, hostess trolley would be wheeled out, the glass living room doors closed and the adults would commence their grown up eating and drinking.

Dinner parties always instill in me a sense of occasion and excitement, I love the menu planning and canape preparing (proper arm aching, prosciutto wrapping, asparagus blanching creations for me thank you very much.) I even have an entertaining book (ahem.)

Before all this very grownup-ness set in (and I became my mother) and I was still in the throes of University excess, one of my very good friends did a unexpected thing and held her own dinner party. This was the first of my adult life, where I would be within the dining room's glass doors (ok at the student digs makeshift table) and would not be laden with coats . I remember she made chicken satay skewers for a starter, and I found the whole thing very dignified... before we all drank too much wine.

This same friend invited a few of us round for a housewarming dinner last Friday at her lovely new Wimbledon flat and gave me a lesson in understated dinner party throwing....

More 'Roquette' than 'Rucola'- The Abingdon, South Kensington

Saturday and we had an impromptu lunch with my old school friends at The Abingdon in South Kensington http://www.theabingdonrestaurant.com/ as recommended by my friend Tom. G and I made myself comfortable and mused on the disadvantages of punctuality (The school friends are not known for theirs). We decided that it is best to be punctual only when visiting or dining with parents or older generation, as if punctual with our generation, you will usually be sitting on your own for a good half hour. The exception is to dinner parties, where you should arrive 5- 10 minutes late, nothing after but definitely not before. Early arriving guests is my worst fear. (Well maybe not THE worst.) Anyway finally they all rocked up and we set to ordering.

The Abingdon is a bit of a strange phenomena, a cross between an upper class 50's American diner (think somewhere Hepburn might have tipsily lunched at in Breakfast at Tiffany's) and a macaroon short of a Parisian tea house, oddly encased within the walls of a traditional English pub. Unfortunately the effect was spoiled somewhat by the odd woman on the sofas next to us who seemed a bit 'confused' and kept ranting about her mother being kidnapped. (I'm not convinced she had been, as she also thought she knew everyone in the restaurant too).

G went for the rump steak with 'pomme frites' and Bearnaise sauce. I went for the 2 course menu which had a choice of Carrot and coconut soup or Antipasti to start and then Pan fried haddock with spiced lentil, sweet potato, wild 'roquette' and creme fraiche or Confit duck leg with creamed mash and rosemary jus. I chose the antipasti and then haddock and thankfully the antipasti came promptly, the little piles of smoked salmon and ham subsequently devoured in the same manner.

The mains came and George was pleased with his steak. My haddock dish was mild and creamy, pleasant but not remarkable. Tom's perfectly cooked Yellow fin tuna with wok tossed wild roquette (there's that roquette again!) and shimeji mushrooms was the best and he insisted we all try a bit. The other school friend Kate, had the Venison and Morgan just scrambled eggs with smoked salmon. The mains varied from £15 to £22 with starters from £6 to £13. The 2 course Saturday lunch menu was £15.95.

Afterwards Tom insisted we order desserts to share. Kate ordered the Sticky toffee pudding with toffee sauce, which she proclaimed to be 'amazing', but after a spoonful I deemed to be a lesser (if not exactly poor) relative of the Clifton Sausage. Tom and I shared a Blackcurrant sorbet which was fruity, fresh and a bit predictable. Morgan was disappointed that the Chocolate biscuit terrine with chocolate sauce was off the menu, so had nothing in protest and talked to the crazy lady instead.

Verdict on The Abingdon: Most of the people eating here (other than crazy) were well-to-do Kensington couples with small, well behaved babies who didn't cry and ate their broccoli. The chef could probably halve the extensive menu which features rather a lot of pea shoots, parfaits and 5 inclusions of 'roquette', but if you find yourself in South Ken you can do worse than to wander in here. Grab yourself a pew, order the tuna and settle back in the company of the London yummies.

Btw: As we were leaving Morgan told me the crazy lady had told him she'd really liked me.

The Clifton Sausage, Clifton, Bristol

Sunday Lunch and I’d booked the Clifton Sausage, a failsafe, stylish, people pleaser of a pub serving tasty British fare. I eat here much less than I’d like to as I tend to have a brainwave of going there on a Sunday morning, when it will invariably already be booked up. Anyway, I’d actually made a booking this time so we trundled along and were seated downstairs. The father immediately looked at home. (I told you it’s a people pleaser- no ‘taboulleh’ in sight.) He commented on the spaciousness, all the tables were occupied but the place felt light and airy and wasn’t too noisy.

The Sunday lunch menu offers 2 courses for £14.50 and 3 for £16.50. G went for the chorizo and salami starter, while the rest of us saved ourselves for the mains and I had my eye on the cheeseboard for dessert. G’s thin slices of salami, apparently from ‘Napoli and Milano’ were a satisfying appetiser. Then the mains arrived. I’d opted for the pork with apple cider sauce and immediately regretted it when I saw my mother’s sausages arriving. What was I thinking? Pork good but you go to the Clifton Sausage for sausage. She had sensibly ordered ‘The Clifton’ which is a pork, cider and wholegrain sausage, other sausage options are ‘Lamb, mint and apricot’, ‘Beef and real ale’, ‘Gloucester Old spot’ and a veggie option: ‘Glamorgan leek, cheese and mustard’. All come with a rich onion gravy, mash or champ. Thumbs up from the mother.

The father was sinking his second beer and polished off his Roast sirloin of Beef, though the Yorkshire pudding was ‘not a patch on Suzie’s’ (my sisters.) To be fair I have never come across a Yorkshire pudd that resembled the ones I grew up with since venturing out of Yorkshire, so I won’t hold this against the chef too much. People don’t seem to realise that Yorkshire puddings should be cupcake sized with a dip in the middle suitably shaped for floating peas (aka ducks) in.(I was playing with food from a young age.) They should be crispy on the outside and gooey bottomed. Anyway these were more titanic than duck pond. G had the beef too and happily wolfed it down.... our roasts came with plentiful carrots, cubes of swede and sugar snaps as well as properly good roasties, fluffed up and squidgy-crisp.

Pudding time, hoorah! The last time I came to the Sausage I had a case of serious food envy, as G ordered the sticky toffee pudding with butterscotch sauce and vanilla ice-cream which, after I was proffered a forkful, turned out to be probably the best I’ve eaten. This time he said he was too full. I had a fancy for the Westcountry cheeses so I ordered the sticky toffee pudding for him and cheese for me, knowing I’d get to eat most of both. The father went for the chocolate mousse with shortbread biscuits and Chew Valley double cream. I wasn’t offered a forkful of that so assume it was good. My 5 cheesy wodges arrived with some delicious rhubarb chutney and biscuits that I recognised from the Chandos deli. George couldn’t manage all the sticky toffee pudd as predicted so I polished that off, helpfully- yes, as good as last time.

The only downer on an otherwise perfect Sunday luncheon was the stroppy waitress who asked us to drink our coffees upstairs so she could get our table ready for the not yet arrived next party. We willingly obliged only to find there were no seats, so had to sup our coffees standing up. Bit of a problem as the mother has difficulty walking and an evident walking stick. I’d understand if there were sittings, and my family does tend to be the last to leave a restaurant, but we had only been there 2 hours and it was a bit of an abrupt end to an otherwise lovely afternoon.

Rucola, Apsley Road, Clifton.

Parents visiting this weekend and as usual decided to trial a couple of restaurants on them, my thought process has always been ‘if they can please them, they can please anyone’... They were staying at the Avon Gorge but we decided against eating in it's 'Bridge cafe' due to the fact that their much applauded head chef, Debbie Leatt has not actually changed the menu in the 2 years my parents have been staying there. The first time we ate in The Bridge, the fishcakes were so good we ordered them on our 3 subsequent visits, only to note that they diminished in size each time... the last time we ate there there were 2 rather than 3 and they were so small they should have come with a magnifying glass as a side order. We called time on the Avon Gorge and ventured further afield.

Past successes on the ‘Clifton parent test’ have been Bells Diner (I think my slightly mystified father’s opinion was ‘weird but wonderful’, the now defunct Le Monde ‘biggest Dover Sole I’ve ever had’, also defunct Michael Caines at the Royal Marriot, 'memorable pistachio icecream', and food which compensated for  the ridiculous Roman decor and faux balconies, and Casamia in Westbury on Trym which has an experimental tasting menu and interesting plates!

I had wanted to go to the Rockfish (formerly Fishworks), my father likes his fish untampered with and that sounded like a no brainer of a parent pleaser. Sadly not to be as all booked up.  G suggested Rucola on Apsley road, G likes his breakfasts and used to be an afficionado of the Primrose cafe in the village, but now rates it’s brekkies as overpriced and ‘smaller than they used to be’ and has recently converted to Rucola which does great eggy combos and is very good value.

The place bills itself as Clifton's most individual and relaxed restaurant, an oasis amidst the bustle of Whiteladies Road.’ It was certainly an oasis of calm as only 2 tables in the place were occupied. This was good news as we proceeded about our ritual musical chairs, merrily changing tables and complaining about the temperature.

 The father’s first impression was not promising; ‘Looks foreign. What’s taboulleh?’ he queried suspiciously and then prompted, oddly, for the most ‘foreign’ option on the menu ‘lamb kofka’, it wasn’t available, which was probably a blessing in disguise, so he plumped for the pollack and a bottle of ‘Gracia de chilli’ which warranted a brief presentation on the merits of drinking 13.5% alcohol versus 14%. ’13.5 and you can finish the bottle, 14% and you’re under the table’ or something along those lines...I was happily quaffing it. I ordered the fish cakes, G the chicken burger and my mother, unexpectedly went for the hefty steak sandwich, which gained her a glance of admiration from G (aka Meat man).

We polished off a plate of herby flat breads and Middle Eastern dips between us, (a bargain at £5) before the mountainous mains arrived. If you ever ate at the (now defunct- see a theme emerging with Clifton restaurants?) Walrus and Carpenter, you’d have a decent idea of the mains at Rucola, large, heaped and with a variety of salady sides, not all of which are very well advised but are definitely superior to those at the overpriced Walrus. My father had a huge slab of Pollack, which was just as well as his coconutty, curried pile of under cooked sweet potato was understandably pushed to one side. G said his chicken burger on a bagel was rubbery and overpowered by lime’ but it disappeared quickly enough and he liked the spicy tomato jam that accompanied it. My mother liked her steak too though thought the bread was slightly charred. The silver lining was the brilliant chips which we fought over, ‘excellent chips’ said the father. My three fishcakes were a B+ to the Avon Gorge’s diminishing D and the accompanying citrus fennel and pecan slaw peppered with pomegranate was tasty and refreshing.

On to pudd and my father opted for the ‘sticky date pudding’ which he claimed ‘was so good it soaked up the foreign elements of the meal’. (I should probably interject here to mention that my father terms foreign as being anywhere other than Yorkshire.) I had some greyish chocolate icecream. Then it was 9pm and the chefs were hanging up their aprons, so we paid the bargainous £75 bill and made a swift exit. 

In my opinion Rucola wears the new Sunday brunch crown and is well worth the extra walk from the village. For dinner though, it really needs a late license but could teach the Avon Gorge a thing or two about fish cakes.

First blog and some baked fish

Right, now that I have got to grips with logging in to this blog (after an embarrassing amount of time), I thought I should actually post something (this is dedication since I'm missing 'Glee'....)

So, I decided to trial a recipe from yesterday's Sunday Times which looked tasty and was under the heading 'Healthy appetite'. Any health giving recipe which allows me to save my calorie consumption for cupcakes, whilst also tasting half decent is alright by me:

Ingredients:

500g pollack, 2 spring onions, 1 tbsp chopped parsley, 2 egg whites, 100ml sparkling water, 50g oats.

Well I did trot smugly along to the fishmonger to buy my sustainable pollack, before being advised (even more smugly) that there are no fish markets on a Monday, (ahem, I knew that) so I shuffled dejectedly to Tesco and picked up some anaemic looking cod instead. I was a bit dubious about the sparkling water but grabbed that too.

Method:

Heat the oven to 200C/400F/Gas Mark 6. Cut the fish into small pieces, place in food processor and mince (but not to a mush), add the onions and herbs, blend for a minute, add the egg whites and blend for 2 more minutes.

Place the mixture in a large mixing bowl. Add the sparkling water, oats and some salt and pepper. Butter 4 or 6 cocottes (I didn't bother with this) and divide the fish mixtures between them, then bake in the oven for 15 minutes.

I did take a photo of the result but am having more technological issues, so that will have to wait. The end result was quite an oddly, unfishy tasting souffle. Surprisingly filling and eggy. I'm not quite sure what the effect of the fizzy water is? more air for the souffle texture I presume, but I will definitely make this again, albeit probably with salmon, for a fishier taste, and more herbs, possibly even sprinkle some parmesan on top (Yes, yes I know, fish and cheese, Italy shakes it's head in disgust). The Sunday Times suggests serving this with coleslaw and rye bread, but I opted for sauteed leeks and mushrooms and roasted beetroot with thyme, (a heavy weekend and I like the idea of beetroot's liver cleansing properties!), though probably not the most obvious accompaniment.

My verdict: a healthy, super quick supper with few ingredients.

And there we are! my first foodie entry! Hoorah! Now off to catch the end of Glee.