A frittata is an omelette with Sicilian origins, just as a tortilla is an omelette with Spanish origins. The main difference that I can see between a frittata and all the other kinds of omelette is that it is mixed, flavoured and then almost baked in the pan rather than being worked with a fork during the cooking.
This version is my own concoction. I love the way the flavours and textures complement one another. Once you have mastered the basic principle, you can have fun inventing your own version. In fact that is precisely what makes it such a good midweek supper. If you have eggs in the house and a few random bits in the fridge, you are never far from a frittata!
My Flame-grilled Tomato Salsa (see p.171) would be the perfect accompaniment.
Preheat the oven to 170ºC/150ºC fan/gas mark 3–4.
Choose a suitable pan for your frittata: for the above ingredients that means one at least 25cm in diameter. Unless you bought this pan last week, you may need to line the base with a snug-fitting circle of greaseproof paper to prevent the frittata from sticking. Have the paper ready, but first we are going to use the pan to fry all the bits.
Cut the chorizo into large bite-size chunks and fry in a little olive oil. When they are lightly coloured, remove and keep handy, and don’t throw the chorizo-coloured oil away either.
Heat a tablespoon of your reserved chorizo oil and fry the new potatoes, again until they colour. Put these on one side with the chorizo. Now clean the pan and place your paper over the base.
Next crack the eggs into a bowl and whisk them up. Add 1 teaspoon paprika and 1 tablespoon soured cream, whisking them in too.
Tip the chorizo and potatoes into the empty pan, making sure they are spread evenly. Sprinkle over the spring onions, then pour on the egg mixture and place the pan in the oven. Bake until slightly firm to the touch and golden brown in colour. This will take about 10–15 minutes.
Serve with a dollop of the remaining soured cream, the rest of the paprika sprinkled on top and the Flame-grilled Tomato Salsa, plus a salad on the side.
My work kitchen has six chefs and right now three of them happen to be Kiwis. This means two things: first, they spend a lot of time talking about rugby, and second, at the first sight of the sun, they down tools, go home and light a barbecue. Seeing a potential problem here, I quickly installed a barbecue in our pub garden, which means they can remain at work on sunny days and stoke coals at the same time.
One of the accompaniments we often serve with grilled meats or seafood is this salsa. Don’t be scared off by all the ingredients – it really is simple to put together. The best way of cooking the tomatoes and peppers is over the open flame of a barbecue, but it is possible to use a very hot ribbed grill pan. I make this at home and keep it in the fridge for emergency snacking of the healthy variety. It’s really good with poppadoms!
If you’re not using this as an accompaniment to the frittata on p.169, the ingredients listed here make enough to use as a dressing on four servings of grilled meat or fish, with some left over for snacking purposes.
Place the whole tomatoes and peppers on to the hot barbecue. Allow them to blister and colour before turning them over. They will blacken in places on the outside but this is OK – in fact, it is beneficial as it imparts a smoky quality to the finished salsa. If you’re using a ribbed griddle pan, the peppers will take about 30 minutes and the tomatoes 20 minutes.
Remove the peppers and tomatoes as soon as they are blackened and blistered, before they become too soft. Allow them to cool and, using a small knife, scrape off the skins. Next cut open the peppers, discard the seeds and the stalk, then chop the flesh into rough 1cm dice. Chop the whole tomatoes into a rough dice of a similar size. Chuck all of this into a big bowl and add all the other ingredients apart from the olive oil. Stir everything together and then slowly stir in the olive oil until the mixture is loose and wet. Season the salsa and you are ready to go.
Rice and peas or rice and beans – this magical combo of white rice and black beans is known throughout Latin America as Moros y Cristianos (Moors and Christians), a cultural reference I really enjoy. Nutritionally, more of the protein in the pulses is made useful to our bodies through the presence of the rice, and in some of the poorer countries associated with these two ingredients, maximizing your protein where you can is a good idea.
Cuban food is tasty but not fancy, and as an alternative to eating in the slightly dull Communist state-run restaurants you can dine in paladares, literally a few tables in someone’s front room (allowed as an income-booster as long as they only have a handful of customers). The paladares we ate in had much better food than the more formal restaurants, with a simple, home-made feel that this dish sums up.
It would be much better to buy a couple of whole chickens, take the breasts off and freeze them for later (for something like the Chicken Surprise on p.285) and make a stock out of the two carcasses. It’s best if you can marinate the chicken thighs and drumsticks before cooking – the longer the better – even overnight.
In a bowl, mix the cumin, salt and dried oregano. Add a drop of olive oil to moisten then rub it all over the chicken pieces. Mix together using your hands to make sure all the surfaces of the chicken are coated and leave for as long as you can.
Put a large, thick-bottomed metal casserole pan on a high heat. Pour a tablespoon of oil into your pan and once it is good and hot, put your chicken in skin-side down: sizzle, sizzle, sizzle. If your pan is not big enough, do this in two batches. Give these a proper 6 minutes on each side. More than just sealing them, you’re getting the cooking started. You want to achieve a deep golden colour, so turn the heat down a bit if they’re getting a bit dark.
Once your chicken is done lift the pieces out and put to one side. Turn the heat back up, toss the lardons, onion and garlic into the hot pan and give it a good stir. When they are nicely browned (about 5 minutes) add the pepper and vinegar. Stir well for a minute before tipping in the rice.
Give it a good bit of seasoning and mix in the black beans. Nestle all the chicken pieces into the rice, cover with Chicken stock and put a lid on. Bring to a simmer then turn the heat down immediately to the lowest setting.
After 25 minutes it should all be ready (but always test the rice to make sure). Turn the heat off and let sit with the lid on for 5 minutes. Serve in a bowl with a simple salad.
When cooking pasta my natural inclination is to reach for the butter and cream when coming up with a sauce. There are two things wrong with this approach: it’s far from the healthiest of options and it’s not exactly cheap. Luckily, my waistline and my wallet have been spared further humiliation thanks to Chris Marriott, my number two at work, who is a bit of a master of flavour when presented with a bunch of herbs, a blender and a bowl of naked pasta. Chris doesn’t usually keep a record of what he puts into a dish, which means that many of his kitchen triumphs, and there have been a fair few, cannot be replicated! However, this recipe is one that I forced him to sit down and write up immediately for the book. It’s tasty, quick, cheap, healthy and any leftover dressing can be stored in the fridge for up to 10 days – in other words, ideal midweek-supper material!
Garganelli, by the way, is the more glamorous sister of penne. Rather than maintaining penne’s tube shape, it softens and lies flat, making it better to eat. Of course, whatever your shop has in the way of pasta will be fine. I would say the best alternatives are penne or farfalle.
First of all make the dressing. It will keep in your fridge for at least a week, so I recommend making more – simply double the amounts given. Try using it as a sauce with grilled fish as well as pasta.
By far the easiest way of making the dressing is in a food processor. However, a blender or even using a knife and chopping board will do the job just as well. Put the herb leaves, capers, garlic, grain mustard and the lemon juice and zest into the food processor. Turn it on and immediately drizzle in 100ml of olive oil. After a minute or two, the jug will contain a thick, bitty, very green liquid dressing. If it is not liquid enough then add the rest of the olive oil in the same way. Pour the mixture into a bowl and add the chopped shallots, a little flaked sea salt and a twist of black pepper. Your dressing is ready.
Boil some water and cook the pasta until al dente. Drain the pasta (keeping the water) and moisten with a tiny bit of olive oil to prevent it sticking, then tip it into a bowl.
Reboil the water and drop in your broccoli. When it is just cooked but still has a bit of crunch, chuck in the peas for a quick 30-second simmer. Drain the vegetables, getting rid of all the water, then toss them into the bowl with the warm pasta. Pour over a generous splosh of your herby dressing and mix everything up. Give it a quick taste and add more dressing if needed. Before serving, use a vegetable peeler to shave the Parmesan over the top.
There’s a grand misunderstanding about the difference between how long you have to cook for and how long it takes to cook. This dish takes a while from start to finish, but with little time input from the cook; it’s the meat that does the work, not you. Bang-it-in-the-oven-and-walk-away cooking is the way forward for those who like flavour on a budget. It’s one of my favourite ways of cooking and eating, especially as it’s leaning towards finger food – it’s good to get involved with your supper.
When buying the ribs, you want the little pieces for this, so either buy short ribs or ask your butcher to cut the long ones into thirds, or do it yourself at home, which is easy but requires a proper big chef’s knife or cleaver.
In a large bowl, mix the ingredients for the marinade together with a healthy sprinkling of salt and a couple of tablespoons of the extra-virgin. Coat the short rib bits in it well. Cut the pork belly into similar-sized pieces to the ribs, chuck them in and give them a good roll around, then leave to marinate for as long as possible.
Turn your oven on to 240°C/220°C fan/gas mark 9. Pack the porky bits into a roasting tray with the onion and carrots. Roast for 40 minutes, turning once, until they are nicely browned all over. Turn the oven down to 180°C/160°C fan/gas mark 4.
Drain the beans and tip them into the tray with the meat. Add all the remaining ingredients including 2 tablespoons of extra-virgin olive oil. Season with a couple of hefty grabs of salt and lots of cracked pepper.
Give it all a good stir, making sure the rib nuggets are mostly under the level of the stock, then bake in the oven for about an hour with a bit of foil tight on top. By now the meat should be pretty tender, so take the foil off and give it a last 15 minutes, just to brown the top a little. Finish with a last splosh of really good extra-virgin, serve in bowls and eat with crusty bread.
This is a bit of a family favourite. My kids like it because they like anything in breadcrumbs, I like it because it’s cheap and quick to prepare, and my wife likes it because it’s light and balanced (or some such nonsense). Anyway, the point is, this is a ‘please-all dish’.
First of all you need to transform the chicken breasts into escalopes (originally a French term to describe meat that has been flattened before cooking). This is easily done. Just lay a piece of cling film down on your worktop, place a chicken breast on top and cover it with a second piece of cling film. Then, using a rolling pin, bat out each one until the surface area is doubled and the thickness halved – in other words, you have a bigger, thinner piece of chicken. Remove the top piece of cling film and sprinkle the escalopes with the chopped sage and the cracked pepper, pressing them lightly on to the meat so they stick.
Now the chicken needs to be coated in the breadcrumbs. The French are a truly gastronomic lot, so they also have a special word for this – pané. First, tip the flour into a shallow bowl. Then crack the eggs into a second bowl and whisk them together with the milk. Finally pour the breadcrumbs into a third bowl.
Take a flattened chicken breast and lay it in the flour. Turn it over a couple of times until evenly coated, then shake off the excess before dunking the chicken in the egg and milk mix. Allow the excess to drip off, then lay the chicken in the breadcrumbs. Turn it over so it is completely coated. Voilà, you have just prepared an escalope du volaille pané!
Pan-fry your escalopes in a little foaming butter for 4–6 minutes on each side until the breadcrumbs are golden and crispy and the chicken is cooked through. If, like me, you have only one decent-sized pan in the house, then pop each cooked escalope in a low oven to stay warm while you pan-fry the rest.
Before serving, melt a little extra butter in the pan and, as it turns a nut-brown colour, squeeze in the lemon juice. Pour a little of this butter over each escalope and serve with a simple salad of rocket leaves tossed in olive oil and balsamic and topped with shavings of fresh Parmesan.
Every now and then we find ourselves in the right place to make a down payment on a future supper, and this recipe is designed to come to mind as you’re standing in the fishmonger’s or, even better, when you’ve been fishing.
Bring the booty home, spend 10 minutes putting a bit of love into them, then wrap in foil and stick in the freezer. Cook from frozen and in the time they take to cook, knock up the very French-sounding but British-tasting accompaniment, which remains the best way I’ve come across to use up floppy, slightly past-it lettuce.
Make a flavoured butter by smashing the garlic cloves with a bit of salt using the flat of your knife, then chop finely and mix this in a bowl with the soft butter, the zest of one lemon and the parsley. Season with salt and pepper. This makes about 12 tablespoons.
Tear off six pieces of foil, each big enough to wrap up a fish, and lay as many out as you can. Put a tablespoon of your flavoured butter in the middle of each and spread it out east to west about the length and breadth of your fish. Divide the fennel between the pieces of foil, laying it over butter.
Slice the other lemon and put a couple of halved slices inside each seasoned fish, then sit the fish on the fennel and dot another tablespoon of butter on top of each fish. Finish with a squeeze of the zested lemon. Bring the foil over the top of your fish and fold in the sides, so the fish are wrapped in loose, airtight packages. At this point you can start cooking or you can freeze for later. They will last for up to 3 months.
When you are ready to make your fish supper, preheat your oven to 200ºC/180ºC fan/gas mark 6. Put the spuds into a pan of cold salted water, bring to a simmer and cook for about 25 minutes. Once the oven is up to temperature, put the trout parcels on to two baking trays and swap their oven position round halfway through the cooking time. Fish from the fridge needs 25 minutes and fish from frozen needs 40 minutes.
Put a wide-bottomed pan on a medium heat and melt the butter in it. Chuck in the shallots and garlic, coat in the butter and stick a lid on for 5 minutes, giving it the odd stir. You don’t want the shallots to get any colour, so turn down the heat if necessary. Pour in the white wine, turn the heat up and leave the lid off for about 5 minutes so the wine reduces before adding the stock. Simmer for 15 minutes.
When there’s only about a centimetre or so of liquid left in the bottom, stir in the lettuce (and ham if you’re using it). Season well and, a few minutes later, add the petits pois and asparagus. Put the lid on again for 5 minutes just to bring it up to temperature quickly, then stir in the mint and cream and turn the heat off. Let it sit for 5 minutes then taste for seasoning. Serve the fish out of the foil with the petits pois and potatoes.
This simple collection of pungent flavours is a great way to use up a little leftover pork. However, it’s also good enough to warrant a bespoke piece of pork belly – a cut which is not only delicious and very easy to cook but also cheap. Feel free to add to or remove from the selection of vegetables as your taste dictates.
In my opinion, many home stir-fried dishes go wrong because too much is loaded into the wok at once, meaning that the wok can never retain enough heat to quickly sear and cook its contents. Although it may seem a little fiddly, I would urge you to cook your stir-fries in smaller batches. Have a large tray ready so that you can remove the vegetables to it when cooked. Another tip is to move the vegetables around the pan with a spoon or chopstick rather than lifting the pan and tossing the ingredients. While tossing looks great, it actually means that the pan is off the heat, which kind of defeats the object.
In professional, Chinese-style kitchens stoves known as ‘wok burners’ are used. These have a much bigger flame than our domestic jobbies, making it possible to lift the pan and toss its contents without fear of losing heat.
To cook the pork belly I would suggest a gentle simmering rather than roasting. You will still end up with crispy pork when you stir-fry it, but it will be easier to cut. So, put the raw piece of belly into a large pot, cover with water, then add the star anise and onion. Simmer gently for 1½ hours, until the meat is thoroughly cooked, and leave to cool in the water. Now you can either put the pork in the fridge for later or move straight into the world of woks and chopsticks.
Cut the pork into 1cm dice and put to one side. Discard the bones. Next prep all the vegetables as described above, bearing in mind that each type of vegetable should be cut into equal-sized pieces to ensure even cooking while stir-frying. Now you can begin the fun bit.
Heat a wok on the stove until it is just beginning to smoke and pour in about a tablespoon of oil. Swill it around till the inside of the wok is covered, then pour out the excess. The pan should now be nice and hot. Chuck in the pork and sear for 5 minutes until crispy and heated through. Now stir in the garlic, chilli and ginger and stir-fry for about 1 minute. Remove all the pork and keep warm to one side.
Reheat and oil the pan, throw in the broccoli and allow it a few seconds to absorb some heat before you stir it around. It is done when it’s hot and has softened very slightly. The best way of checking is to remove a piece and eat it. I definitely like some crunch left in mine. Tip out the broccoli, reheat the wok and repeat the same process with the oil before tossing in the mushrooms. When coloured and cooked do the same with the spring onions and mangetout. Each batch will cook very quickly, so be sure not to overcook them.
With all the vegetables done, add them, together with the pork and the noodles, to the wok and return the wok to the heat. Carefully toss everything together. Drizzle in soy sauce to taste and some chilli sauce for a touch of sweetness, then finally toss through the coriander. Serve in bowls immediately.
At our wedding we didn’t have a cake, we had a cheese cake made of ten whole British cheeses, stacked up on each other in order of size, starting with a whole 20kg Montgomery’s Cheddar truckle on the bottom and finishing with the tiny, pyramidal Tymsboro (a soft goat) about six feet above it. A year later we were down to the last scraps of Montgomery’s, and on our first anniversary I made Susi this, her favourite supper, with the last of our wedding cheese. And who said romance was dead?
I’m assuming for this that most people have an old, hard cheese container like us – just the odd bits that are too gnarly to eat as they are, but fine to cook with. Use them up in this dish, though, of course, new cheese works too.
Preheat your oven to 200°C/180ºC fan/gas mark 6. Get a pan of water on and bring it up to the boil for the macaroni.
In a separate saucepan, melt 20g of the butter. Add the artichokes and lardons, if using, and fry until golden brown, stirring regularly for 10–12 minutes. Then scoop them out and sit them on some kitchen roll.
Once your water has come up to boil, add a splash of olive oil, chuck in your macaroni and give it all a quick, vigorous stir. Give your artichoke pan a quick wash, then put it back on the heat to dry off.
Over a low to medium heat, add the remaining lot of butter to the pan. Once it has melted, chuck in the smashed garlic clove, then a minute later stir in the flour. Keep stirring it and let it fizzle for a few minutes to cook out the taste of the flour, then add a little milk and mix together with your spoon. Once it’s incorporated, pour in a bit more and then swap to a whisk so you whisk all the lumps out. Keep gradually adding milk and crank the heat up a bit. Bring the smooth sauce up to a bubble, then turn it down again and stir in the mustard and nutmeg.
Fish out the garlic clove, add the strong, hard cheese (not the Parmesan) and mix until it is all melted. Season with a few cracks of pepper and some salt.
Once your macaroni is al dente (it’s important not to overcook the pasta on the first cook or else your final dish will be much heavier), drain well and add it to the cheese sauce, along with the artichokes (and lardons). Turn off the heat and transfer to an ovenproof dish. It needs to be quite wet as the macaroni will continue absorbing the sauce as it cooks. Arrange the sliced tomato on top and sprinkle over the Parmesan and herbs. Season and drizzle with extra-virgin. Put the mac ‘n’ cheese on a foil-lined baking tray to catch any overspills and into the middle of the oven it goes for 30–40 minutes, depending on how deep your dish is.
This is a real family favourite. Cheap, quick and easy, but it also tastes really good. The marinade is really one concocted from store-cupboard ingredients, so the ethnic origins are somewhat debatable! The biryani is, of course, a bit of a super-quick bodge version of the Indian classic, but it’s a great way of livening up plain rice and could actually be a meal in itself.
First of all marinate the chicken thighs. This is best done some time before you intend to eat, but frankly, even if the chicken is only sloshed about in the marinade for 2 minutes it will taste better than nothing. For the sake of this recipe, let’s imagine you choose to do this before going to work – that way the chicken will get a good flavour hit.
Slash across the chicken thighs 3 or 4 times with a sharp knife. The cuts should be about 5mm deep and their purpose is to trap extra marinade and therefore add extra flavour. Mix all the ingredients for the marinade in a large bowl, then place in the chicken thighs and give them a good rub and squeeze to thoroughly work in the marinade. Cover and leave in the fridge until ready to cook. The chicken will need about 35 minutes in a hot oven, which pleasingly gives you time to prep and cook the biryani.
Preheat the oven to 200ºC/180ºC fan/gas mark 6. Pick the chicken out of the marinade and place on a baking tray, leaving a little space between each thigh. Put a teaspoon of marinade on top of each thigh for luck, then bung them in the oven. The idea is that the sugars in the ginger syrup and sweet chilli sauce will caramelize in the high heat and go a very dark brown. At the same time the spices will flavour the chicken and the skin will become crispy. Check the thighs after about 15 minutes – if the colour and crispiness are right, lower the temperature to 180ºC/160ºC fan/gas mark 4. When done, you can rest the chicken if your rice is not quite ready.
To cook the rice, heat a large pot which has a tight-fitting lid. Add the oil, then throw in the onion and garlic and allow them to soften and colour very slightly. Now add the mushrooms and cook these for 2 minutes before adding the chilli flakes and turmeric. Carefully mix the rice into the pan. Making sure the rice is flat and level, place your index finger on the surface of the rice and add cold water until the level reaches the first joint of your finger (about 2.5cm). Bring the pan to the boil and immediately cover tightly with foil and the lid. Boil for 5 minutes and then switch off the heat and leave to stand. The steam trapped within will cook your rice perfectly.
The rice needs to stand covered for 20 minutes in total, but after 15 minutes carefully lift a small section of foil and pour in the peas and tomatoes. Cover again and leave for 5 minutes, then uncover the pan and fork the rice and vegetables together.
Serve with the chicken and a salad.
Veggies aside, there are few folk out there who don’t enjoy a pork chop. Pigs, like chickens, are the only other animal that is reared intensively (not relevant to cows and sheep), so it’s fair to hand out the same advice as with chooks: buy the best you can – it just tastes and feels better.
If this sounds like a summery supper, it is, and (apart from the pig), the star is the sunny sweetcorn relish, not gloopy and gelatinous like the bought ones, but a bright, zingy homemade version.
Cut your potatoes into small chunks (or if they’re the little ones, just cut them in half), put them in a pan with salted cold water and bring up to the boil. Once soft, drain and leave them to cool.
For the relish, put a small pan over a medium heat. Pour in the vinegar and dissolve the sugar in it as it comes up to a simmer. Add the diced red pepper.
Shuck both ears of corn by standing them on one end and cutting down the side so that the kernels fall off (keep the cobs for making stock). Stir the kernels into the pan and continue simmering. When you have almost no liquid left stir in the French beans with a pinch of salt and turn the heat off.
Heat a griddle/grill/pan for the chops until smoking hot. Season your chops well on both sides and lay them on/under/in (you’ll need a splash of oil if you’re doing it in a pan). Turn after 6 minutes if 2cm thick – less if on the thinner side – and cook for the same amount of time.
Put the potatoes in a bowl with the mayo, spring onions, gherkins, a squeeze of lemon and quite a lot of salt and pepper. Taste and correct the seasoning.
Once your chops have finished cooking, leave them on a plate to rest for a couple of minutes before serving with your potato salad and relish, and as if by magic you have a starter pack over for tomorrow’s lunch.
AS REGARDS COOKING, THE WORLD IS SPLIT INTO THREE TYPES OF PEOPLE: THOSE FOR WHOM IT’S A JOY, THOSE WHO THINK OF IT AS WORK, AND A FEW, LIKE PAUL AND ME, TO WHOM IT IS BOTH. WHEN I WAS A COMMIS MY HEAD CHEF USED TO SAY TO US ‘WORK SMART, NOT HARD’. MANY YEARS DOWN THE LINE I THINK IT’S ONE OF A FEW BITS OF CHEFFY KITCHEN LINGO THAT IT’S WORTH THE DOMESTIC COOK TAKING ON BOARD TOO.
THE IRONY IS THAT YOU HAVE TO HAVE A CERTAIN AMOUNT OF KNOWLEDGE AND EXPERIENCE UNDER YOUR BELT TO KNOW HOW TO MAKE THAT TIME/LABOUR/MONEY-SAVING CALL, BUT MY AIM HERE IS TO OPEN A DOOR THAT GETS YOU THINKING IN A MORE EFFICIENT KIND OF WAY.
WORKING SMART, NOT HARD, CAN TAKE ON DIFFERENT FORMS:
1. While you’re there …
It’s about using what’s already going on, either in minutes or joules.
2. Play the long game
3. Put the love where it’s going to be felt
4. Use the food wisely, Luke
Once you’re aware of it, there are many instances where these simple words of wisdom apply, because as much as cooking can be a joy, an easy life isn’t such a bad thing either.