Recipe List
Spring Lentils in Radicchio Cups
Potstickers with Black Vinegar and Chilli
Rye Toasts with Pine Nut Butter and Avocado
Tiny Baked Potatoes with Spiced Chickpeas
Corn Tortillas with Avocado and Charred Spring Onions
Fondue Tomatoes with Mozzarella
The First Peas with Fresh Ricotta
Winter Squash, Bulgar and Spinach Kibbeh
Popiah with Shredded Vegetables
Baked Polenta and Sweet Potato with Halloumi Salsa
Butter-glazed Radishes with Capers and Walnuts
THESE RECIPES ARE RELAXED enough to win anyone’s affection. They cover the whole gamut from simple antipasti to side dishes to snack food to drinks party numbers, indeed many straddle those groups with ease. (Too many hours spent assembling thousands of identical canapés have possibly tainted my views on spiffy party food; you won’t find that here.) The secret to successful ‘small’ food, I think, is that the flavours should be bright and intense enough to be satisfying in modest portions.
And there lies the winning formula to any miniature dish: ramp every mouthful up a notch, adding a touch more spice or seasoning than you otherwise might, while keeping an eye on the balance of textures and temperatures. It could be as uncomplicated as something on toast, but taking your time to burnish pine nuts thoroughly, before crushing them into an unusual ‘butter’ and topping with sweet-sour onions, ripe avocado and extra pine nuts for crunch (here) makes an everyday idea great.
Step forward street food, the epitome of laid-back grazing food with heaps of character. I won’t lie: some of the street-ish recipes here are projects. Making yeasted dough for Taiwanese-inspired steamed buns, forming Malaysian popiah wrappers, or even filling potsticker dumplings, takes time, but all are fun to do and to eat. I have tried my best not to overcomplicate or add expense with rare storecupboard items, destined for the back of the cupboard after one use, instead sticking to widely available ingredients in the majority of cases. Where more esoteric foodstuffs are called for, it’s because it is sometimes worth seeking out things you wouldn’t normally buy to inject energy into your cooking. Soft corn tortillas and bought dumpling wrappers, for instance, both used in this chapter, aren’t hard to find these days and are wise buys. Stock your freezer if you see them and defrost when needed. It is far easier now than it has ever been to track down such authentic and interesting items, with well-stocked supermarkets, specialist food shops and online suppliers.
Away from street food, the Mediterranean always delivers on relaxed starters and antipasti. As ever, they will shine if you are mindful of good ingredients. When tomatoes are plentiful, who could resist pairing them with mozzarella or burrata just as they are? But at the tail end of the season, when autumn is in full swing, large, ‘meaty’ varieties are transformed by a couple of slow hours in the oven, bathed in oil and herbs (here). For very little effort, you can produce a starter of exceptional flavour and you only need good bread or a seasonal leaf to make it more substantial. Pile the fondue tomatoes, along with torn mozzarella, on to toasted bread to make a good-tempered platter for a party. Or show off with the easiest of home-made cheeses, requiring no special equipment, and be put off buying supermarket tubs of ricotta forever. The flavour of a freshly made ricotta is exceptional, and pairs so well with the first new-season peas, or other sweet vegetables (here).
One has to make certain assumptions when developing recipes, choosing a path between basic and expert that will, hopefully, be relevant to the majority of readers. With that in mind, I have supposed that the simplest of vegetable sides – such as steamed and dressed greens and roast potatoes – do not need to be covered on these pages. Instead, I have written accompaniments with enough character to stand alone as humble kitchen suppers. Don’t be afraid to vary them to suit.
The Coconut-chilli Greens (here), for example, can be based on any variety of strapping leaves and shoots beyond chard; try kale, cooking (not baby) spinach, spring greens, even broccoli. Make the recipe as written as an accompaniment to vegetable fritters or baked sweet potatoes or, to focus on it as a light main, scent basmati rice with a couple of cracked green cardamom pods as it steams and then finish the stir-fried greens with a generous dash of coconut cream, turning them into a curry of sorts to eat with the fragrant rice.
Creating a side dish with personality can be as straightforward as cooking or presenting a vegetable in a less conventional way. When brassicas are roasted at high temperatures they turn sweet and tender within and toasted – caramelised – on the outside, as the more delicate leaves or buds catch and scorch. Hispi or pointed cabbages, for example, don’t need much more than fierce heat and a tumble of oil to bring them to life, but you can vary the accent flavours, adding the buzz of Szechuan pepper and dried chilli flakes, or smoky chipotle and lime juice, instead of the mustard and lemon I have suggested (here).
Likewise, cooking radishes on the hob until burnished and sweet is an unexpected way to treat them, but as well-suited to side dish status when paired with a frittata or a rich, baked cheese as it is to lunch with decent bread and a handful of watercress.
These joyful grazing recipes are intended to be gutsy and a break from the norm. Have fun making them and serve them in whatever guise you wish; you’ll find they are bold enough to hold their own.
Thought to have originated as a Mumbai street snack, this is such a riot of flavours and texture. With so many versions in circulation, I don’t feel I need to apologise for this recipe being heavier on the fresh additions than most. Change it up at will, but bear in mind that it hinges on the contrast of sweet, sour, crunch and heat. Whatever the incarnation, a chilled beer on the side would be most welcome.
SERVES 4
– 8 medium-sized salad potatoes
– sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
– 2 tbsp mango chutney, plus more to serve
– 100g natural yogurt
– handful of coriander leaves, roughly chopped
– 2 tbsp tamarind paste
– 2 tsp palm sugar
– ½ tsp cumin seeds, toasted and crushed (here)
– 1–2 green chillies, finely chopped
– 1 small pomegranate, arils (seeds) only
– ½ cucumber, peeled and roughly chopped
– large handful of cherry tomatoes, roughly chopped
– 5 Medjool dates, pitted and chopped
– 2 shallots, very finely chopped
– 25g puffed brown rice
– 6 cooked poppadums, 2 roughly crushed, the rest to serve
– 2 limes, halved
Put the potatoes in a small saucepan and cover with cool water. Add a large pinch of salt and bring to the boil. Reduce the heat and simmer gently for 18–20 minutes, until tender to the point of a knife. Drain and set aside to cool slightly, then peel and finely chop.
Combine the mango chutney and yogurt in a small bowl. Finely chop 1 tbsp of the coriander, add that, then season with a little salt.
Separately, in another small bowl, mix the tamarind paste with the sugar to take the edge off and splash in a little water to loosen.
Put the potatoes and all the remaining ingredients – except the yogurt and tamarind mixtures, puffed rice, poppadums and limes – in a large bowl, seasoning with salt and pepper and mixing together gently. Now fold in the puffed rice and crushed poppadums and divide the bhel puri between 4 serving bowls, cups or plates.
Add spoonfuls of both the yogurt mixture and the tamarind mixture to each portion, stirring through gently if wished.
Eat while the puffed rice and poppadums are still crunchy, using the rest of the poppadums for scooping up the bhel puri. Offer lime halves and more mango chutney alongside, so everyone can sharpen or sweeten their plate as they like.
Banh mi: a sandwich to beat all sandwiches. The airy, crisp-shelled baguettes that are used in Vietnam are often made with rice flour, but a very fresh wheat-flour loaf will do nicely here. (Use a baguette that’s about 30cm long, to get the sandwiches the right size.) It’s worth hollowing out some of the soft middle crumb, to make more room for the fillings. Use vegan mayonnaise if you want to make this a vegan recipe.
SERVES 4
– 400g smoked tofu, sliced
– 2 red chillies, finely chopped
– 3 garlic cloves, finely chopped
– thumb of root ginger, peeled and finely chopped
– 2 lemongrass stalks, trimmed and finely sliced
– 2 tbsp vegetarian ‘fish’ sauce or light soy sauce, plus more for the baguettes
– 1 tbsp palm sugar
– sea salt
– ¼ tsp freshly ground white pepper
– 1 tbsp groundnut or other flavourless oil
– 2 small ficelles or small, thin baguettes
– 3 tbsp mayonnaise
– ½ small cucumber, sliced on the diagonal
– handful of sprigs of coriander
– 1 quantity Quick Vietnamese Pickles (here)
Dry the sliced tofu well with kitchen paper. Mix it in a bowl with the chillies, garlic, ginger, lemongrass, vegetarian ‘fish’ sauce or soy sauce and sugar. Set aside for 30 minutes, if you have the time, seasoning lightly with salt and the white pepper.
Place a large wok or frying plan over a medium-high heat. Add the oil, followed by the tofu mixture. Sear the slices for 2–3 minutes on each side, until glazed and caramelised. Remove from the heat.
Preheat a grill to low and warm the baguettes through, turning often, until crisp-edged and just-warm inside.
Open out the warmed baguettes, then cut each in half to make 4 split pieces. Pick out some of the crumb, if you like, to make a bigger space for the filling. Brush the insides with a little more vegetarian ‘fish’ or light soy sauce and spread with mayonnaise and slices of cucumber. Now stuff in some tofu, a few sprigs of coriander and a generous helping of drained pickles. Drizzle with any juices from the tofu pan and serve hot.
Sturdy greens, including their stalks in the case of the chard family, can stand up to some serious spice. Should you have access to them, a handful of fresh curry leaves, thrown in with the mustard seeds, will add fragrance here. Add steamed rice of your choice, a fried egg or tofu, roasted roots such as carrots or parsnips and a handful of toasted nuts or seeds, to turn this into a comforting rice bowl.
SERVES 4
– large bunch of rainbow chard
– sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
– 3 tbsp coconut butter
– 1 tsp cumin seeds
– 1½ tsp black mustard seeds
– fat pinch of ground turmeric
– 2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
– 1 red chilli, finely chopped
– thumb of root ginger, peeled and finely grated
– 90g fresh coconut, coarsely grated
– juice of ½ lime, or to taste
Rinse the chard and drain it well. Cut the stems from the leaves. Bring a saucepan of water to a rapid boil, add a little salt and blanch the stalks for a minute or so, depending on their thickness. Drain the stalks, refresh under cool water, then cut into 2cm lengths. Roughly shred the chard leaves, too, but keep them separate.
In a wok or deep frying pan – one that has a lid and is large enough to hold the chard – melt the coconut butter over a medium-high heat. Add the cumin and mustard seeds and heat through until they begin to sizzle. Add the turmeric, garlic, chilli and ginger to the pan and cook, stirring, for a minute or so. Increase the heat and throw in the coconut, chard stalks and lime juice, with a decent pinch of salt.
Cover with a lid, reduce the heat and leave to simmer for 3 minutes, or until the stalks are completely tender. Stir in the leaves and continue to cook until they, too, are tender. Check the seasoning and add more lime juice, salt or pepper, if you like.
This salad doesn’t have to be served in radicchio leaves, but do shred the heads finely and stir them through the lentils if you aren’t using them as serving vessels: that contrast of crisp, bitter leaf with sweet shallot dressing, fiery radish and nutty lentil is what makes this simple recipe a winning one. A little horseradish gives extra poke, but be more generous with the mustard if you don’t have any to hand.
MAKES 20 / SERVES 4
– 200g small green French lentils
– 100ml olive oil
– 3 shallots, very finely chopped
– sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
– ½ garlic clove, crushed
– 1 tsp Dijon mustard
– 1 tsp grated horseradish
– 1 tsp mild honey
– 3 tbsp red wine vinegar, or to taste
– 2 tbsp finely chopped tarragon leaves
– 2 tbsp finely chopped chives
– 100g radishes, chopped
– handful of young (slim) sprigs of watercress, any coarse stalks removed
– 75g walnut pieces, toasted
– 2 heads of red radicchio, leaves separated
Cover the lentils with plenty of water in a saucepan, bring to the boil and simmer for 20–25 minutes, until tender but still holding their shape.
Meanwhile, put 2 tbsp of the oil in a saucepan. Place over a low heat and add the shallots with a fat pinch of salt. Cook very gently for 10 minutes, stirring often, until they begin to soften, but not to colour. Remove from the heat and stir in the garlic, mustard, horseradish, honey and vinegar. Gradually whisk in the remaining oil to make a thick dressing. Stir in the tarragon and chives and check the seasoning, adding more salt, pepper or vinegar, as needed.
Drain the cooked lentils well, tip into a large bowl and combine with the radishes, watercress, walnuts and enough dressing to coat. Season to taste. (Any extra dressing will keep well in the fridge for a week or so; let it down with a little boiling water when needed.)
Fill each radicchio leaf with a spoon of warm lentil salad and serve soon.
The pumpkin you choose here is the key to success. Best bet: the grey-blue Crown Prince for its dense, sweet and firm flesh. Butternut squash will do, but the batter may need a touch more flour. Hold your nerve though, too much will make a glue-y fritter; better instead to leave the fritters well alone when frying and to use enough oil. A mild sesame and yogurt sauce balances the pumpkin’s sweetness.
MAKES 16
For the fritters
– 900g piece of dense pumpkin, plus 2 tbsp pumpkin seeds, if needed
– 2 tbsp olive oil, plus more to cook
– 125ml vegetable stock
– 100g wholegrain couscous
– 1 tbsp wholemeal plain flour or spelt flour
– 1 egg, lightly beaten
– small handful of basil leaves, shredded
– finely grated zest of 1 unwaxed lemon, plus lemon wedges to serve (optional)
– 3 tbsp sesame seeds, toasted
– peppery salad leaves, to serve
For the sesame-yogurt sauce
– juice of 1 lemon
– 1 garlic clove, crushed
– 2 tbsp light tahini
– 4 tbsp natural yogurt
– sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
Preheat the oven to 200°C/gas mark 6. If the pumpkin seeds are plump and shiny, scoop them out and set aside (if they are flat and wizened, use bought pumpkin seeds instead). Slice the flesh into slim wedges, skin and all, and toss with the 2 tbsp oil in a roasting tin. Roast for 35 minutes, until soft and browned. Reduce the oven temperature to a warming setting.
Meanwhile, bring the stock to the boil in a small pan. Put the couscous in a bowl and pour the hot stock over to cover. Cover with a plate, set aside for 5 minutes, then fluff up with a fork and leave to cool. To make the sesame sauce, combine all the ingredients in a small bowl with 90ml of hot water, seasoning to taste.
If they were worth having, rinse the reserved pumpkin seeds, removing any orange fibres clinging to them. Boil a kettle and pour enough water over the seeds to cover. Let steep for 15 minutes, then drain. Pare the now-soft skin from the pumpkin with a small knife and put the flesh in a mixing bowl. Mash it lightly. Add the cooked couscous, flour, egg, basil, lemon zest and half the toasted sesame seeds. Mix together well.
Set a large frying pan over a medium heat. Add enough olive oil to form a thin film across the surface. Add the drained (or bought) pumpkin seeds and cook for a few minutes, stirring, until golden. Remove to a plate. Make sure there is still a covering of oil in the pan and heap in spoonfuls of batter to make patties, being sure not to crowd the pan. Cook for 2–3 minutes on each side until golden and crisp-edged, reducing the heat a little if they colour too fast. Remove to a plate and keep warm in the oven. Repeat to cook all the fritters; you should have 16, depending on size.
Serve the hot fritters with the fried seeds, the remaining sesame seeds and a handful of peppery salad leaves, offering the sauce alongside and lemon wedges, if you like.
Dumpling-making, as with any fiddly kitchen task, takes patience and probably shouldn’t be attempted at fraught moments. If you are reasonably dexterous, however, an army of plump beauties will be just reward for time spent pleating wrappers together.
You can also use a soy-based salad dressing (here), minus the groundnut oil, as a dipping sauce here, if you prefer.
MAKES ABOUT 30
For the dipping sauce
– 4 tbsp light soy sauce
– 3 tbsp black vinegar
– 1 tsp unrefined sugar
– 1 tbsp toasted sesame oil
– 1 green chilli, finely chopped
For the potstickers
– 3 tbsp sunflower oil
– 2 garlic cloves, crushed
– 4cm piece of root ginger, peeled and finely chopped
– 150g shiitake mushrooms, finely chopped
– 3 spring onions, trimmed and finely sliced
– 2 carrots, finely grated
– 200g firm smoked tofu, drained and crumbled
– small bunch of coriander, finely chopped
– 225g spinach, blanched, dried and chopped (here)
– ½ tsp freshly ground white pepper
– 1 tbsp light soy sauce
– 1 tsp toasted sesame oil
– sea salt
– 30 round dumpling wrappers
Start with the dipping sauce. Combine all the ingredients and set aside.
Put 1 tbsp of the sunflower oil, the garlic and ginger in a wok and set over a medium heat. Cook, stirring, for a minute, until the mixture sizzles, then add the mushrooms, spring onions and carrots. Stir-fry for 5 minutes or so, until the mixture softens and any liquid evaporates. Remove from the heat and stir in the tofu, coriander and spinach, followed by the white pepper, soy sauce, sesame oil and a generous pinch of salt. Allow to cool.
Place 1 firmly-heaped tsp of this filling in the middle of a wrapper and lightly brush the border with water. (I use a wetted finger rather than faffing about with a pastry brush.) Fold into a half-moon shape, making about 5 pleats to seal. This is all a matter of practice. If you find pleating too fiddly, simply press the edges together to make a simple half moon. If you’re feeling brave, to make each pleat, fold the wrapper slightly between your thumb and forefinger, pushing your other thumb in to flatten and secure the pleat. I find the best way is to start in the middle with a single pleat, then work down each side in turn with 2–3 pleats. Press the joins firmly to seal, but take care not to crush the pastry or you’ll ruin the pleating effect. You should have a curving dumpling.
Line a tray with non-stick baking parchment. Add the dumplings, upright, so the seam is on top. Cover with a tea towel while you make the rest.
Pour 1 tbsp of the remaining oil into a large, non-stick frying pan and set over a medium heat. Add half the dumplings, base-down. Fry undisturbed for about 2 minutes, until golden underneath. Pour 200ml water into the pan, bring to the boil, then reduce the heat slightly. Cover with a lid or a large tray and simmer for 7–8 minutes, or until no liquid remains. Listen for a change in sound: when the liquid has gone, the pan will hiss. Serve now with half the dipping sauce. Repeat to cook the remaining dumplings.
An indulgent snack for missed-breakfast days, or an energy-rich pick-me-up. Pine nuts are expensive enough to make any cook wince, so I don’t advocate making jarfuls of ‘butter’. In small amounts, though, it makes a fabulous spread or pasta sauce. Watch them like a hawk when toasting (writes the queen of burning nuts), but take your time: you want an even, deep golden colour for the best flavour.
SERVES 2—3
– 2½ tbsp mild-flavoured oil, such as rapeseed or olive
– 1 red onion, sliced
– sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
– 1 tsp finely chopped rosemary leaves
– 2½ tbsp sherry vinegar, or to taste
– 75g pine nuts
– ½ garlic clove, crushed
– 1 ripe avocado, halved
– 3–4 slices of rye bread
Put 2 tbsp of the oil and the onion in a saucepan with a pinch of salt and set over a medium-low heat. Fry gently for 15 minutes, stirring often, until soft and beginning to brown. Increase the heat and add the rosemary and a scant 2 tbsp of the sherry vinegar, cooking and stirring until the vinegar has evaporated and the onions are slightly sticky. Set aside.
Meanwhile, put the pine nuts in a frying pan with a meagre splash of oil (about the remaining ½ tbsp) and cook over a medium-low heat, shaking the pan often, until the nuts are truly golden all over. Take this too far and you’ll introduce bitter notes, but don’t let that break your nerve: under-toasting will make for an insipid butter and, with so few ingredients, there is nowhere to hide. Go for broke. Remove 1 tbsp of the nuts, draining as you do so, and set aside.
In a mortar and pestle, crush the remaining toasted nuts, with their oil and the garlic, until they release their oils and turn from mealy to buttery. Add the remaining ½ tbsp sherry vinegar, or to taste – just to cut the richness – and season with salt and pepper. If you are making this in advance, it can now be covered and chilled for a few days.
Pit the avocado and scoop out the flesh. ‘Chop’ it roughly with a spoon.
Toast the bread slices on both sides under a hot grill or in a smoking-hot griddle pan. Spread pine nut butter over each slice, topping with the avocado and fried onions. Season well, cut each in half and scatter with the reserved, golden pine nuts to finish.
If you’re ever in need of a vegetarian canapé – or at least a plate of something for a party if ‘canapé’ sounds passé – hot baked potatoes, topped with a spring onion sour cream and wonderfully crisp, spiced chickpeas should fit the bill. Season these more than you would normally think wise, bearing in mind that they are only small mouthfuls and need to carry a bit of a kick.
SERVES 6—8 AT A PARTY AS NIBBLES
– 1.5kg new or small salad potatoes
– 4 tbsp olive oil
– sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
– 400g can of chickpeas, rinsed and thoroughly drained
– 1 tsp cumin seeds
– 1½ tsp nigella seeds
– ½ tsp hot smoked paprika
– finely grated zest and a squeeze of juice from 1 unwaxed lemon
– 1 tsp honey
– bunch of spring onions, trimmed
– 150g sour cream
– 2–3 tbsp mango chutney
Preheat the oven to 200°C/gas mark 6.
Prick each potato with the tip of a knife, toss with half the oil and spread out on a large baking tray. Season well with salt and bake for 45 minutes, shaking the tin to redistribute halfway through the cooking time.
Meanwhile, tip the chickpeas into a bowl lined with kitchen paper and pat dry to get as much moisture off them as possible. Whip out the kitchen paper and toss with the remaining oil, cumin seeds, 1 tsp of the nigella seeds and the paprika. Season well and spread out in a roasting tin.
Roast for 10–15 minutes, depending on the size of the chickpeas, until just beginning to brown. Stir through the lemon zest and honey and return to the oven for a further 5–10 minutes, until well-browned and crisp.
Finely chop half the spring onions and stir into the sour cream with a little lemon juice and seasoning to taste. Finely slice the remaining onions on the diagonal and set aside.
Let the potatoes cool for 10 minutes before handling, so that they aren’t piping hot. Make a small cut in the top of each and squeeze the sides gently to open.
Add 1 heaped tsp of the spring onion sour cream to each potato, with a little mango chutney. Spoon over the chickpeas. Scatter with the sliced spring onions and remaining nigella seeds, plus a little more black pepper.
This version of the light steamed buns, commonly – and erroneously – known as just ‘bao’ and often made with rice flour in the mix, can never be truly authentic due to the lack of meat, so I’ve thrown caution to the wind with an umami-rich stuffing of roast pumpkin, pickled cucumber and salty cashew nuts. As in the Popiah with Shredded Vegetables (here), it’s refined flour all the way here.
MAKES 8
For the bao
– 450g strong white bread flour, plus more if needed
– scant 1½ tsp (7g) fast-action dried yeast
– 50g unrefined caster sugar
For the filling
– 700g pumpkin, peeled, deseeded and cut into batons
– 2 tbsp dark soy sauce
– 1 tbsp honey
– 1 tbsp finely grated root ginger
– 1 tsp 5-spice powder
– ½ tsp chilli flakes
– 3 tbsp toasted sesame oil
– ½ large cucumber
– 2 tbsp mirin
– 1 tsp unrefined caster sugar
– 1 tbsp rice wine vinegar
– pinch of freshly ground white pepper
– 3 spring onions, finely shredded
– handful of sprigs of coriander
– 100g salted roasted cashew nuts, crushed
Mix the flour, yeast, sugar and 225ml of water in a food mixer fitted with a dough hook, or with a good old wooden spoon. Knead for 8–10 minutes, until smooth and elastic. The dough will be quite stiff, but flours can differ and the weather might be particularly wet or dry, so add up to 1 tbsp more flour or water, as needed. Cover with a damp tea towel and leave to prove for about 1½ hours, or until doubled in size. Or chill the dough, letting it rise overnight, and return to room temperature before shaping.
Preheat the oven to 220°C/gas mark 7. Toss the pumpkin in a roasting tin with the soy, honey, ginger, 5-spice, half the chilli flakes and 2 tbsp of the sesame oil. Roast for 30 minutes, turning halfway, until glazed and soft.
Shred or slice the cucumber into a bowl. Put the remaining chilli flakes in a small saucepan with the mirin, sugar and rice vinegar. Bring to the boil and simmer briskly until the liquid is reduced to about 1 tbsp. Pour over the cucumber, adding the white pepper and remaining sesame oil. Toss to coat and set aside for 10 minutes before eating, or chill for up to 5 days.
Cut out 16 × 10cm squares of non-stick greaseproof paper. Knock the risen dough back and divide into 8 even rounds. Roll each out on a large piece of non-stick paper to form ovals, about 12cm long and 9cm wide. Stick a cut-out square of paper on top and fold the ovals in half over them. Sit each on a second square of cut-out paper. Cover loosely with cling film and leave in a warm place for 30 minutes, until risen.
Set a large steamer, preferably with 2 tiers, over a medium heat and get the water boiling. Arrange the buns in the steamer baskets, spaced at least 3cm apart, and steam – not too fiercely – for 10–12 minutes until puffed, shiny and cooked through. Split the buns open, removing the papers, and fill with roast pumpkin, drained cucumber, shredded spring onions, sprigs of coriander and lots of crushed cashews for texture.
Fresh fenugreek has a slightly bitter, aromatic flavour, with soft green leaves resembling clover. If you can’t find it (try Indian and Middle Eastern grocers and the ethnic sections of larger supermarkets), add a scant teaspoon of fenugreek seeds with the other spices instead and stir in finely chopped spinach near the end of cooking; the flavour won’t be the same, but the colour and chlorophyll hit will be comparable.
SERVES 4
– 1¼ tsp cumin seeds
– 1¼ tsp coriander seeds
– 900g large, waxy potatoes
– sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
– 1 large (beefsteak) tomato, halved
– 3 tbsp ghee or mild-flavoured oil
– 1 tsp ground turmeric
– 1¼ tsp garam masala
– large pinch of hot chilli powder
– 1 large onion, chopped
– thumb of root ginger, finely grated
– 2 plump garlic cloves, crushed
– leaves from 2 bunches of fenugreek, chopped
– squeeze of lemon juice, if needed
Start by toasting the spices: put the cumin and coriander seeds in a dry frying pan and place over a medium-low heat, stirring occasionally until their fragrance is heightened and they turn a shade darker. This should take 1–2 minutes. Tip into a mortar and crush with the pestle.
Peel the potatoes and cut into 3cm pieces. Put into a saucepan, cover with water, add a generous pinch of salt, then place over a medium heat. Bring to the boil. Reduce the heat a little and simmer for 10–12 minutes, until just tender but holding their shape. Drain and set aside. (This can be done a couple of hours or the day before; chill the potatoes until needed.)
Coarsely grate the halved tomato, cut-side first, leaving only the empty skin behind (discard this). Sweep the grated flesh into a bowl.
Put half the ghee or oil in a deep frying pan or wok and set over a medium-high heat. Add the potatoes and cook, stirring occasionally, until browned on all sides. Add the ground cumin and coriander along with the turmeric, garam masala and chilli powder. Cook for a minute, then stir in the tomato and bring to the boil. Scoop out of the pan and into a bowl.
Return the empty pan to the heat, reducing the heat a notch. Add the onion with the remaining ghee or oil and fry gently for 10 minutes, stirring often, until very soft and turning brown. Stir in the ginger and garlic and cook through for a minute. Stir in the fenugreek leaves and cook, stirring, for a couple of minutes, until wilted.
Return the spiced potato mixture to the pan and heat through. Taste and adjust the seasoning, adding a dash of lemon juice to brighten the dish, if you feel that’s a good idea.
I’ve stayed away from true Mexican queso fresco, as I haven’t been able to find any made without animal rennet. Cue vegetarian-friendly Wensleydale or feta. If you can’t get fresh tomatillos, or they aren’t in season, use a can, drained and blitzed with a sautéed garlic clove and a deseeded green chilli. Or make the salsa with vine tomatoes instead. Not the same, but also delicious in its way.
MAKES 8
For the tomatillo salsa
– 6 small tomatillos, de-husked and halved
– 1 green chilli, halved and deseeded
– 1 plump garlic clove, peeled
– 2–4 tbsp lime juice, plus lime halves, to serve
– large handful of sprigs of coriander
– ½ sweet white onion, finely chopped
– sea salt
For the tortillas
– 2 ripe avocados
– a little lime juice
– bunch of spring onions, trimmed
– olive oil, as needed
– 8 small, soft, corn tortillas
– 100g Wensleydale or feta, crumbled
– hot chilli sauce, to serve
For the salsa, preheat the grill to medium. Arrange the tomatillos, cut-sides down, halved chilli and garlic clove in a small roasting tin and grill for 4–5 minutes. Remove the garlic and set aside. Turn the tomatillos and chilli over and return to the grill for a further 5 minutes, until softened and charred in places. Blend in a mini food processor with 2 tbsp of the lime juice and half the coriander to make a rubbly purée. Add a splash of water, if needed (this is a sharp and ‘watery’ salsa). Rinse the onion in a sieve held under cool, running water, drain well and stir into the salsa. Season with salt to taste and add the rest of the lime juice, if you like.
Halve, pit and slice the avocados, tossing them with 1 tbsp of lime juice to stop them browning.
Set a griddle pan over a high heat until smoking hot. Alternatively, light barbecue coals 1 hour ahead, so they are white-hot and ashen with no trace of flame by the time you cook the spring onions. Toss the whole spring onions with 1 tbsp of olive oil. Cook in the griddle pan or directly on the bars of a barbecue, running the onions crossways so they don’t fall through. Cook for 2–3 minutes, then turn with tongs and cook for a further 2–3 minutes, until charred with lines all over and slightly softened. Remove and cut each spring onion in half through its middle.
Keep the pan on the high heat and add a tortilla, cooking it for about 20 seconds on each side, until charred, but still soft. Repeat to cook all the tortillas; as you cook them, pile up and wrap loosely in a sheet of foil covered with a tea towel.
When all the tortillas are warm, top each with a pile of spring onions, tomatillo salsa, sliced avocado, the remaining sprigs of coriander and the crumbled cheese. Shake hot sauce over the top and eat.
Unsurprisingly, given they are in the same family, cabbage roasts as well as cauliflower or broccoli, taking on the same sweet notes, tempered with charred edges. As an easy accompaniment, it is hard to beat. Play with the flavours as you wish; I have had success swapping the mustard and lemon out for lime, chilli and sesame, serving that version with soy sauce and egg-fried rice as a frugal supper.
SERVES 4 AS A SIDE DISH, OR 2 AS A MAIN COURSE
– 2 Hispi or pointed cabbages
– juice of 1 lemon
– 1 tsp wholegrain mustard
– 3 tbsp olive oil
– sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
Preheat the oven to 220°C/gas mark 7.
Trim the cabbage bases, keeping them as intact as possible, and cut each head into delicate quarters from tip to base. Combine the lemon juice, mustard and olive oil in a small bowl and spoon or brush generously over the cabbage wedges on a large baking sheet. Turn the wedges to coat, then season with salt and pepper, making sure they are spaced out well. If they are too close together, they will steam; you want them to colour.
Roast for 15 minutes, then turn the slices over with tongs and roast for a further 15 minutes, until charred in places, tender and well-browned. Serve as a side dish or as a light main event with a steamed grain.
A beautifully simple, aromatic way with tomatoes. For the best flavour, choose the ripest you can find; ideally something with a low water content, such as Bull’s Heart or a large plum-type. In the UK – currently at least – it is nigh on impossible to find vegetarian buffalo mozzarella, so stick to cow’s milk, or a richer burrata made with vegetarian rennet. Serve on a base of good bread, toasted or not.
SERVES 4
– 12 large, ripe tomatoes, halved
– 6 tbsp olive oil
– 2 garlic cloves, unpeeled
– a few sprigs of thyme
– a few sprigs of oregano
– 4 slices of sturdy bread, ideally a sourdough
– 2 mozzarella balls, drained
– decent balsamic vinegar, to taste
Preheat the oven to 150°C/gas mark 2.
Halve the tomatoes through their middles. Pour the olive oil into a large baking dish or roasting tin; it should be large enough to fit the tomatoes in a single layer with room to spare (if they fit too snugly they will steam). Bruise the garlic cloves by giving them a firm bash with the base of a glass and add to the oil with the herb sprigs.
Arrange the tomatoes in the oil, cut-sides down, and roast for 2 hours. By this time, the tomatoes should be soft, sweet and concentrated in flavour. You can remove the skins if you wish, they will slide off easily, or leave them as is. Remove the skins from the garlic and mash the cloves into the oil, removing any hard herb stalks as you go.
Lightly toast the bread slices under a hot grill.
Divide the warm tomatoes between the toasts with the mozzarella, torn into pieces, the herb-flavoured oil from the dish and a little balsamic vinegar. It shouldn’t need much.
Alternatively, keep the tomatoes chilled and use within a week, returning them to room temperature or even warming through when needed. They can be mashed with a fork to make a rich pasta sauce, in which case it’s a good idea to double the recipe to make a generous amount.
A recipe to celebrate early summer’s dairy and peas. Fresh cheese really is simple to make, but you can of course use a very fresh, bought ricotta instead. Unfortunately, the stuff in supermarket tubs won’t cut it here. If your peas are home-grown or very fresh, don’t bother to cook them. For more mature peas, adding a few pea pods to the cooking water is a good trick to intensify their sweetness.
SERVES 4—6
– 2.1 litres whole, fresh cow’s milk
– 150ml double cream
– ¼–½ tsp sea salt, plus more to serve
– 3–4 tbsp lemon juice, plus more to serve
– 2kg fresh peas in the pod
– freshly ground black pepper
– extra virgin olive oil
Pour the milk, cream and salt into a large saucepan and set over medium heat. Bring the milk to steaming point: just below the boil at around 93°C, if you have a thermometer. Stir occasionally, scraping the bottom of the saucepan to make sure the milk doesn’t scorch as it heats through. When ready, the surface of the milk will look steamy and slightly foamy.
Reduce the heat a notch, add 3 tbsp of the lemon juice and stir gently. The milk should begin to curdle. Remove from the heat, cover the pan and let stand for 10 minutes. The curds should have completely separated and the whey should look yellow and watery. If the magic hasn’t happened, try adding another 1 tbsp of lemon juice.
Set a strainer or colander over a mixing bowl and line it with muslin, a nut milk bag, or other straining cloth. Carefully scoop or pour the curds into the strainer, letting the whey collect in the bowl beneath. Leave in a cool place for 1 hour.
The ricotta – you should have about 400g – is now ready to eat, or can be covered and chilled for 2 days.
Pod the peas, preferably with an extra pair of hands to help. Taste and decide if they are sweet and young enough to eat raw. If they are good as is, transfer to a bowl; if they need blanching, reserve a small handful of the pods and bring a large saucepan of water up to a rolling boil. Add the reserved pods and a fat pinch of salt and tip in the peas. Boil for about 4 minutes, then drain and transfer to a bowl, removing the pods.
Either way, dress the raw or cooked peas with salt, pepper, extra virgin olive oil and lemon juice to taste. Eat with spoonfuls of fresh ricotta.
Serve these crisp-shelled baked kibbeh with Warm Tahini Dressing and Pickled Sour Cherries (here and here), warmed flatbreads and a large salad. I suggest making the kibbeh slightly heftier than is traditional; forming delicate, thin-shelled torpedoes is a job for experts and requires a fine – and hard to source – type of bulgar in the shell. Use a firm, dry squash; this won’t work with wet butternut squash.
SERVES 4, WITH ACCOMPANIMENTS
– 1.5kg kabocha squash (about 15cm in diameter)
– 4 fresh bay leaves
– 3 tbsp olive oil
– sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
– 1 tsp cumin seeds
– 1 tsp coriander seeds
– 300g large-leafed cooking spinach
– 200g bulgar wheat
– 2 tbsp wholemeal plain flour or spelt flour
– 1 scant tsp ground allspice
– 100g pine nuts
– 1 quantity Warm Tahini Dressing (here)
– Pickled Sour Cherries (here), warm flatbreads and salad leaves, to serve
Preheat the oven to 190°C/gas mark 5.
To make the kibbeh shell, start by slicing the squash into wedges around the stalk. Use a sturdy knife and a well-balanced chopping board to avoid accidents. Scoop out the seeds and fibres with a soup spoon. Weigh out about 700g of squash and peel those wedges with a vegetable peeler. Cut the orange flesh into 3cm cubes. You will need 600g prepared, raw weight, so cut off an extra bit to peel and cube if needed. Cut the remaining squash into 8 small wedges (there is no need to peel these, though you are welcome to do so if you wish). Put the cubed squash in a small roasting tin and the wedges and bay leaves in another. Divide the olive oil between the tins, season with salt and pepper and toss to coat. Roast both tins for about 35 minutes, until soft and caramelised. (If you are making the kibbeh mixture in advance, to bake and finish in a day or so, do not bake the tin of squash wedges now. Instead, cover with cling film and chill until you are ready to bake the finished kibbeh.)
Meanwhile, toast the cumin and coriander seeds in a dry frying pan set over a medium heat. Shake and stir until they are fragrant and slightly darker. Crush to a rough powder in a mortar and pestle and set aside.
Remove the coarse stalks from the spinach leaves, then rinse the leaves to remove any grit and dirt. Bring a saucepan of water to the boil, add the leaves and blanch for 30 seconds or so, until just wilted. Drain in a colander. Wring out in a tea towel and chop half the leaves finely and half roughly. Set the roughly chopped half aside.
Soak the bulgar in enough cool water to cover generously, setting it aside for 10 minutes. Drain well and, using your hands, squeeze out as much water as you can. Transfer to another tea towel and twist to extract even more moisture. Tip into a large bowl and add the roast squash cubes. Crush the bulgar and squash mixture with a potato masher, making sure no large lumps remain. Add the finely chopped portion of spinach, the flour, crushed cumin and coriander, half the ground allspice and a seasoning of salt and pepper. Knead until the mixture is thoroughly blended. Place the bowl in the refrigerator for 30 minutes, if you have time, to make the paste easier to work with.
To make the filling, toast the pine nuts in a dry frying pan, shaking often, until golden. Add to the reserved, roughly chopped spinach with the remaining allspice and season well.
To form the kibbeh, divide the squash mixture into about 20 large walnut-sized pieces and roll each into a ball. Take a ball, stick a finger into the centre to form a hollow, stuff 1 scant tsp of the spinach mixture in and mould the squash back around it to enclose, forming the kibbeh into a ‘torpedo’ shape. Repeat to use all the squash balls and filling. At this stage, the shaped kibbeh may be spaced out on 2 baking trays lined with non-stick baking parchment, covered and chilled for up to 48 hours. Leave out at room temperature for 30 minutes before proceeding.
Preheat the oven to 190°C/gas mark 5. If you did not roast them earlier, put the prepared tray of squash wedges into the oven and cook for 10 minutes, then slide the kibbeh trays in and set a timer for 20 minutes. When cooked, they should be golden brown and crisp, so turn each one over and give them an extra 5 minutes, if need be. The squash wedges should be soft and browned. (If your squash is already roasted, just return it to the oven for a few minutes to warm through.)
Serve the hot kibbeh with spoonfuls of warm tahini sauce and the hot roast squash wedges (include the bay leaves for decoration, if you like). Pickled cherries, warm flatbreads and a green salad make perfect accompaniments and turn this into a feast.
I fell for a more involved and authentic incarnation of these fresh spring rolls in Malaysia and have made them at home ever since. Gluten is the master of the ingenious wrappers; developing the gluten in wheat flour forms a stretchy dough which can be dabbed across a frying pan in a paper-thin layer. If gluten is not your friend, try making them with Vietnamese rice paper wrappers instead.
SERVES 4
For the dough
– 1 tsp fine salt
– 500g plain flour
For the filling
– 1 tbsp groundnut oil
– 2 garlic cloves, crushed
– 2 large carrots, shredded or coarsely grated
– 200g runner beans, shredded finely on the diagonal
– 160g pack of bought marinated tofu cubes (ideally those in tamari)
– 2 tbsp light soy sauce
– 7 tbsp hoisin sauce
– 3–4 tbsp sriracha sauce, or Sambal Oelek (here)
– 20 soft lettuce leaves
– 100g cashew nuts, toasted (here) and crushed
– 100g beansprouts
Start the dough the day before. Dissolve the salt in 450ml of cool water. Put the flour in a bowl and add the salted water as you mix with a wooden spoon into a very wet dough (use your hand if it feels easier). Now for the strange bit: pour cold water into the bowl to cover the dough. Transfer to the fridge and chill overnight, or for at least 6 hours. Tip the bowl to drain the water off. It is best to knead this using a food mixer fitted with a dough hook, as it takes about 15 minutes for the dough to collect around the hook and be smooth and very elastic. You can achieve this by hand, by stretching the dough up and slapping it back down, but it is hard work.
For the filling, put the oil and garlic in a cold frying pan or wok and set over a medium heat. Sizzle gently for 1 minute. Before the garlic colours, add the carrots and beans. Stir-fry for 3 minutes, until softer. Stir in the tofu and soy and cook over a high heat for a further 2 minutes. Set aside.
Place a frying pan over a medium heat. Pick some or all of the dough up and, being careful not to let your hand touch the pan, wipe the dough briefly over the pan to coat. Let the dough fall back into the bowl and cook your thin crepe until the edges start to lift. Use a spatula to lift an edge up enough to peel the still-soft crepe out of the pan. Cover loosely with cling film and repeat to cook the remaining crepes, layering them between squares of baking parchment. This makes more than needed, but use the extra to practise with (or freeze excess crepes for another time).
Spread 1 scant tsp of hoisin sauce over the centre of the ‘uncooked’ side of a wrapper. Top with a little sriracha or sambal oelek to taste, and a lettuce leaf. Spoon 1 heaped tbsp of the filling over the leaf in the part of the crepe nearest to you, leaving any excess liquid in the pan. Top with crushed cashews and a few beansprouts. Fold in the left and right sides to cover the ends of the filling, then roll away from you to make a roll. Repeat to fill all the wrappers and eat as soon as possible.
Simmering polenta is a minefield for bare-armed cooks; roasting it in the oven yields tender, creamy results with little hands-on time and no third-degree burns. Make only the polenta component if you are after a comforting, soft and simple accompaniment.
Here, a polenta-sweet potato mash bakes until brown on top and fluffy within. Just before serving, a feisty salsa is spooned over to wake everything up.
SERVES 4 AS A MAIN COURSE, OR 6 AS A SIDE DISH
For the polenta
– 30–60g unsalted butter, plus more for the dish (optional)
– 2–4 tbsp olive oil, plus more for the dish (optional)
– 300g coarse polenta
– 800ml milk
– sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
– 3 medium sweet potatoes, peeled and finely chopped
– 250g halloumi, coarsely grated
For the salsa
– 1 large lemon
– 200g cherry tomatoes, chopped
– handful of green olives, halved and pitted
– handful of flat-leaf parsley leaves
– extra virgin olive oil, to serve
Preheat the oven to 180°C/gas mark 4. Grease a large, ovenproof dish with butter or olive oil. Mix the polenta, milk, ½ tsp of salt and 30g of the butter in the dish with 900ml of water. Bake, uncovered, for 40 minutes (don’t worry if it looks terrible as it cooks; it will come together).
Meanwhile, toss the sweet potatoes with 2 tbsp of the olive oil in a roasting tin, season, spread out and slide into the oven below the polenta. Cook for 40–45 minutes, until tender and colouring at the edges.
Stir the cooked polenta and bake for a further 10 minutes. Remove from the oven, stir in 150g of the halloumi and let the polenta rest for a minute. Add the roast sweet potatoes. Mash as much as you would like the sweet potatoes to be broken down (keep it rustic by barely crushing them, or mash thoroughly). Taste and adjust the seasoning if needed.
Keep in the dish, or divide between 4 small ovenproof dishes to make individual servings. Dot with the remaining butter or olive oil, depending on which you would prefer, and return to the oven for 15 minutes, until piping hot and beginning to brown.
Meanwhile, make the salsa. Pare the skin and pith from the lemon, cutting the flesh out in segments and leaving the membranes behind. Chop roughly and toss with the tomatoes, remaining 100g of grated halloumi, the olives, parsley and extra virgin olive oil to taste. Spoon over the baked polenta and serve as an accompaniment to roast vegetables, or as a main course with peppery salad leaves.
If you tire of crisp, raw radishes by the end of the summer, try roasting them or, as in the recipe below, caramelising them in a frying pan. Lightly cooked as a vegetable, glazed with buttery vinegar, tempered with the saline hit of fried capers and bolstered by a handful of toasted walnuts for autumn, whole radishes take on a sweet, mild flavour.
SERVES 4 AS A LIGHT LUNCH, STARTER OR SIDE DISH
– 25g salted butter
– 1 tbsp olive oil
– 1 tbsp capers, rinsed and dried
– 20–25 radishes, halved or quartered if large
– 2 shallots, very finely chopped
– 1 garlic clove, finely chopped
– 50g walnut halves, toasted and roughly crushed
– leaves from 2 sprigs of oregano
– 2 tbsp sherry vinegar
– sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
– walnut bread, to serve (optional)
Melt the butter and olive oil in a large, heavy-based frying pan set over a medium heat. Add the capers and fry until they start to sizzle. Add the radishes and shallots and cook, stirring occasionally, for 8 minutes, until they are translucent and browned at the edges. Stir in the garlic, walnuts and oregano and cook for 2–3 minutes more.
Now increase the heat and pour in the vinegar. Bubble this down, tossing the mixture together, until the radishes are shiny and glazed. Season generously and serve with the walnut bread as a light lunch or starter, or on its own as a side dish. It works very well next to cheese on toast, a whole baked cheese, or even a herby omelette or frittata.
