Recipe List
Courgette, Ricotta and Dill Tart with Spelt-rye Pastry
Roast Broccoli Tart with a Cauliflower Crust
Beetroot Soup with Horseradish
Yogurt Soup with Lentils, Barley and Mint
Roast Carrot Soup with Flatbread Ribbons
Split Pea Soup with Caraway Brussels Sprouts
Stuffed Baby Pumpkins with Mudjhadara
Soba Noodle Soup with Duck Egg and Greens
Chickpea Crepes with Wild Garlic
Spiced Paneer for Spring in Semolina Dosas
Dill, Carrot and Chickpea Curry with Beetroot Raita
Roast Carrot, Chickpea and Pomegranate Salad
Chipotle Scotch Eggs with Smoky Tomato Dip
Cheddar Quesadillas with Kale and Black Beans
IT CAN BE A RELATIVE CHALLENGE to make vegetarian cookery particularly expensive – unless you have a penchant for the finest saffron and fresh produce from far-flung lands – but when you combine seasonal and local vegetables with cheap staples such as pulses and wholegrains, you can eat extremely well for very little indeed.
This is as much about where and when (in the year, that is) you shop as about what you buy. It’s a message often repeated these days, but I can’t stress it enough: buy produce at the peak of its season. Make, say, my loose incarnation of the sunny Tunisian salad, mechouia, at the end of the summer when there is a veritable glut of the ripest tomatoes, peppers, aubergines and courgettes and you will pay far less, and be rewarded with brilliant flavour. If repeated six months later, with imported vegetables, it will have none of the intensity, but will have an inflated price tag. Buy a privileged pear or cosseted mushroom, shrouded in layers of packaging, and, again, you will pay an inevitable premium. If you can seek out loose produce at times of abundance, you are bound to make significant savings.
Much of the time, the same packaging point can be made about dried spices. I try my best to avoid buying expensive jars when whole spices, bought in packets from Asian shops, are cheaper and usually fresher. Resist the temptation to buy large quantities unless you know you will race through them; the fresher the better when it comes to spice, so I recommend buying small amounts of whole spices to toast and grind at home. Musty, dusty ground spices make a poor substitute and won’t make your food sing.
A disclaimer when it comes to investing in spices, oils, vinegars and the like: I have assumed that the keen cook will have a decent storecupboard and spice drawer. The humble and filling ingredients on which this chapter focuses – think protein-packed pulses, roots, brassicas and the like – can take some serious spice, so be prepared to exercise a liberal hand.
We modern cooks waste food. In fact, the statistics on food waste in Western countries are downright frightening, so if you can weave shopping little and often into your week, planning your cooking according to what’s cheap and plentiful, you will inevitably throw less away. Weekly meal planning is admirable, but in practice, few people I know have the organisational skills to plan seven-days’ worth of food in one outing. A few small shops might be slightly more time-consuming, but they will keep you in touch with seasonal produce, allowing you to snap up bargains and cultivate the habit of buying only the fresh ingredients you need.
For years, I struggled with a miniscule, iced-up glove box masquerading as a freezer, so if you are in that same boat, I realise it can be frustrating to be advised to batch-cook and freeze the extras. But, as the old adage goes, ‘two can live as cheaply as one’, and making double quantities of, say, soups and stews to freeze costs little more and will furnish you with future suppers. Having a larger freezer to store gluts of cheap fruit and (well-labelled) leftovers has been a revelation.
Rather than letting unused, soft herbs, kales and peppery salads go to waste, blitz any leaves on the point of wilting with a little good oil and some nuts or seeds, if you have them. This rudimentary pesto can be frozen as is, ready to defrost and adapt when needed. Coriander-based purées can be transformed into fresh curry pastes; basil, mint and parsley mixtures will either turn to pesto with some vegetarian pasta cheese stirred in, or a form of salsa verde with chopped capers and olives. If you can get into the habit of preserving these odds and ends as you cook other recipes – a form of good stock rotation, really – you won’t just cut down on food waste and spend, you will become a better, more imaginative and resourceful cook, too.
Nowhere is a thoughtful flourish of pesto or herb oil more welcome than when spooned over a modest soup. Surely, a bowl of soup with bread is the ultimate frugal food, and you will find many variations here. I hope you find them worthy of cooking for friends when you don’t have much cash, as well as filling, nutritious and almost always suitable for freezing.
Lentils, beans and grains are perfect thrifty foundations. The cooked pulses and grains sold in fancy packets are, comparatively, very expensive and far less versatile. Better to buy the dried and, where relevant, wholegrain, version and reap the nutritional benefits. If you remember to soak pulses you can shave a few pennies off, but I’ve generally plumped for canned beans as they are still good value and take less forethought.
Herbs, an ingredient I use in quantity across the board, are expensive when bought in tiny supermarket packets, but worth the outlay for their transformative effect on humble recipes. I recommend buying herbs in the far cheaper, loose bunches from markets and greengrocers. Growing your own in pots, window boxes or flowerbeds is obviously cheaper still. Or buy one of those stingy pots of growing herbs and replant a single plant in a larger pot or, thriftier still, split it into two or three and repot each. This will create a ‘cut and come again’ herb garden on your windowsill in return for a few days’ watering, making that single plant a worthwhile investment.
A deep tart, packed with a light, summery mix of vegetables and a touch of buttermilk. Do squeeze as much moisture as possible from the courgettes or the filling will be watery. The pastry is a cinch, nutty and sweet from rye, but use any shortcrust pastry, bought or not. If you don’t have a deep enough tin (5–6cm is ideal), use a 25cm tart tin. A shallower tart will cook in 20–25 minutes.
SERVES 8
For the pastry
– 325g wholemeal spelt flour
– 100g wholemeal rye flour
– 200g salted butter, chopped
For the filling
– 3 courgettes, shredded or coarsely grated
– sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
– 2 tbsp capers, rinsed and drained
– 150g peas, defrosted if frozen
– small bunch of dill, finely chopped
– finely grated zest and juice of 1 unwaxed lemon
– 200ml buttermilk
– 250g ricotta cheese, drained
– 4 large eggs, lightly beaten
– 500g tomatoes, sliced or halved
– small handful of oregano leaves
– extra virgin olive oil
Start with the pastry (at least an hour ahead). Put both flours in a food processor, or, if making this by hand, a large bowl. Add the butter and pulse in the food processor, or rub in by hand, until it resembles fine breadcrumbs. Add enough iced water to bring the mixture together in a ball, starting with 1½ tbsp and working up to no more than 3 tbsp, as needed. Again, either use a food processor here, being careful not to overwork the dough, or ‘cut’ the water in with a table knife. Form the pastry into a flattened disc and roll out between sheets of greaseproof paper until it is about the thickness of a pound coin. Unpeel the top sheet of paper and flip the pastry on to a 5–6cm-deep, 23cm-diameter pie dish or tart tin. Unpeel the second sheet of paper (now on top) and press the pastry into the tin, trimming the edges flush with the dish. Keep the paper. Cover with cling film and chill for 30 minutes, or up to 48 hours.
Preheat the oven to 200°C/gas mark 6. Line the pastry case with a saved paper sheet and fill with baking beans or raw rice. Bake for 15 minutes until the pastry is set and no longer looks ‘wet’. Remove the paper and beans and return to the oven for 5–6 minutes, until colouring lightly.
Reduce the oven temperature to 180°C/gas mark 4. Put the courgettes in a sieve and sprinkle with a generous pinch of salt, tossing to distribute evenly. Set aside for 10 minutes, then press down on them to drain. Put into a clean tea towel and wring out any remaining liquid very forcefully.
Combine the courgettes, capers, peas, dill and lemon zest in a bowl. In a separate bowl, whisk the buttermilk, half the ricotta and the eggs with a little salt and a lot of pepper. Fold the 2 mixtures together. Pour into the tart case and dot with the remaining ricotta. Bake for 25–30 minutes, until just set. Set aside for 15 minutes so the filling can settle. Toss the tomatoes with the oregano, lemon juice and extra virgin olive oil to taste. Season and serve as a salad with slices of the warm or cold tart.
Despite my initial scepticism, I admit that vegetable ‘pastry’ is a fantastic invention for those keeping an eye on carbs, gluten or both. Salted ricotta is a cheeky addition for a thrifty chapter, although a little goes a long way. Substitute Wensleydale or Cheshire cheese for a cheaper alternative. Stretch this out to feed six smaller appetites (or four large) with roast roots or a big salad; it is surprisingly filling.
SERVES 4—6
– 250g broccoli, stalk trimmed and florets separated
– 200g small tomatoes
– 2 tbsp olive oil, plus more for the dish
– leaves from 3 sprigs of rosemary, finely chopped
– 450g cauliflower florets
– 50g ground almonds
– 4 eggs
– 30g vegetarian pasta cheese, finely grated
– sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
– 150g salted ricotta cheese, finely sliced
– 200ml single cream
– 30g flaked almonds
Preheat the oven to 190°C/gas mark 5.
Toss the broccoli and tomatoes with the oil and half the rosemary, spread out in a large roasting tin and roast for 30–35 minutes, until just browning.
Chop the cauliflower florets roughly. Blitz half at a time in a food processor, until finely chopped, or grate the whole lot with a box grater; either way it should look like pale couscous. Transfer to a large baking sheet lined with non-stick baking parchment and spread out in an even layer. Slide into the oven for 15 minutes to dry out. Let cool for 10 minutes, then tip into a clean tea towel, bring up the edges and twist. Squeeze as hard as you can to force as much water out as possible. Transfer the now-dry cauliflower to a mixing bowl.
Stir in the ground almonds, 1 egg, the remaining rosemary, pasta cheese and plenty of seasoning. Line a 5–6cm-deep, 23cm-diameter pie dish or tart tin with a circle of baking parchment to come right up the sides, and brush it lightly with olive oil (you can dispense with the paper, but it does make the tart easier to unmould). Mound the cauliflower mix into the dish, then press firmly and evenly over and up the sides, to make a tart case.
Bake for 8–10 minutes directly on the oven floor, until just beginning to brown at the edges.
Arrange the roast broccoli and tomatoes and the salted ricotta in the cauliflower case. Beat the remaining 3 eggs with the cream, pour into the case and top with the flaked almonds. Return to the oven floor, reducing the temperature to 180°C/gas mark 4. Bake for 25 minutes, or until just set with barely a wobble in the centre when jiggled. Rest for at least 15 minutes before slicing, so the filling can set. Serve warm or cold.
A little red wine balances the depth and sweetness of all the roast vegetables here, rounding out the raucousness of beetroot in particular. I have given instructions to serve this soup hot as a bracing winter number, but it can also be a delicious and unexpected cold dish for warmer days, in which case whisk or swirl half the cold yogurt into the chilled soup just before serving.
SERVES 4—6
– 1.2kg beetroots (7–8 medium)
– 4 shallots, skins on
– 1 fennel bulb, quartered
– a few sprigs of thyme
– 2 tbsp olive oil
– sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
– ½ tsp fennel seeds
– 1.1 litres vegetable stock
– 100ml red wine
– 4 tsp grated horseradish, fresh or jarred
– 4 heaped tbsp Greek yogurt
– handful of bought beetroot crisps, optional
Preheat the oven to 190°C/gas mark 5.
Rinse the beetroots, trimming any stalks and leaves. (Save any nice, baby leaves to serve the soup.) Put the beetroots, still wet from rinsing, in a roasting tin with the shallots, fennel, thyme, olive oil and a seasoning of salt and pepper. Cover the tin tightly with foil and roast for 50 minutes. By this time, the beets should be tender and sweet and the shallots soft.
Meawhile, cook the fennel seeds in a dry frying pan set over a medium heat. They should take about 45 seconds to become fragrant and lightly toasted. Tip into a mortar and crush with the pestle.
Set the roast vegetables aside to cool for 10 minutes with the foil on, or, if you can’t wait, don rubber gloves and remove the foil straight away. Peel the skin from the beetroots and chop the insides roughly. Put the fennel seeds and beetroots into a large saucepan with the roast fennel, discarding the thyme. Squeeze the shallot flesh into the pan too, discarding the skins. Add the stock and red wine and bring to the boil slowly. Once boiling, reduce the heat to a gentle simmer for 15 minutes.
Stir the horseradish into the yogurt and season to taste.
Blend the soup, preferably in the pan with a hand-held blender for ease, until very smooth. Check the seasoning and reheat gently. Remove from the heat and immediately whisk in half the horseradish yogurt.
Divide the hot soup between warmed bowls, topping with spoonfuls of the remaining horseradish yogurt, a couple of reserved, well-washed beet leaves, if you have them, and a few beetroot crisps for crunch, if you like.
I have tweaked this old, Turkish-style favourite over the years, but the original belongs to the food writer and owner of the Ginger and White cafes, Tonia George. It makes a soothing, unusual and exceptionally delicious soup. Finish it with a poached egg if you are very hungry. Pot barley has a nicer chew than the more common pearl barley, so do try to get hold of it; you will find it in health food shops.
SERVES 4 GENEROUSLY
– 50g salted butter
– 1 onion, finely chopped
– 3 leeks, trimmed and thinly sliced
– 2 tsp cumin seeds
– 2 green chillies, halved, deseeded if you prefer, finely chopped
– 1 tbsp plain flour
– 100g pot barley
– 1.3 litres vegetable stock
– ½ cinnamon stick
– 75g brown lentils
– 400g can of chickpeas, drained and rinsed
– 100g baby spinach
– 200g Greek yogurt (not low fat)
– juice of 1 lemon
– sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
– 4 very fresh eggs (optional)
– ½ garlic clove, crushed
– ½ tsp sweet smoked paprika
– pinch of chilli flakes
– 1 tsp dried mint
In a large saucepan or casserole set over a low heat, melt half the butter and add the onion, leeks, cumin seeds and chillies. Cook for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are very soft.
Add the flour and pot barley, stirring for 1 minute to cook out the flour. Stir in the stock and cinnamon stick and simmer for 25 minutes. Add the lentils and chickpeas and simmer for 20 minutes more, until the lentils are cooked and the barley is just tender, but still has a bite. Stir in the spinach, remove from the heat and fish out the cinnamon stick.
If you will be including the poached eggs, half-fill a deep frying pan with water and bring to the boil over a high heat. Reduce the heat and leave to simmer gently.
In a separate bowl, whisk the yogurt and half the lemon juice with a ladleful of hot liquid from the soup pan. Stir this mixture back into the soup off the heat, then return it to a low flame. Stir gently for a couple of minutes; do not let it boil at any point or the soup will curdle. Taste and adjust the salt or pepper as you wish, remembering the butter added at the end will be quite salty.
Crack the eggs into the simmering water, spacing them out well. Poach very gently for 2½–3 minutes; the water should have barely a blip reaching its surface. Remove to a kitchen paper-lined plate with a slotted spoon.
Melt the remaining butter in a small pan until foaming. Add the remaining lemon juice, the garlic, paprika, chilli flakes and mint and cook until the butter turns a pale amber and smells nutty. Remove from the heat. Spoon most of the hot butter over the soup, then divide between warmed bowls, topping each with a poached egg, if using, and the rest of the butter.
A sonorous soup, first roasted then slowly simmered, elevated with a flourish of toasted nigella seeds and fine strips of griddled flatbread. Fresh turmeric, long renowned for aiding digestion and calming inflammation, intensifies the deep golden hue of the soup. If you can’t find the fresh root – though larger supermarkets should have it – use ½ tsp ground turmeric instead, or replace it with root ginger.
SERVES 4
– 1.6kg carrots, scrubbed and sliced
– 1 sweet white onion, sliced
– 2 tbsp sunflower oil
– 2 unpeeled garlic cloves
– 1 red chilli, halved and deseeded
– 1.3 litres vegetable stock
– small thumb of fresh turmeric, peeled and finely chopped
– 1 tsp nigella seeds
– 1 thin, round flatbread
– 4 tbsp crème fraîche or Greek yogurt
– scant handful of chive sprouts, or chives, chopped
Preheat the oven to 190°C/gas mark 5.
Put the carrots and onion in a large baking tin and toss with the oil. Roast for about 20 minutes, then add the whole garlic cloves and halved chilli, stirring everything thoroughly. Return to the oven for 20 minutes more, until the vegetables are soft and browned. Remove the papery skins from the soft garlic cloves.
Put the roast vegetables in a large saucepan with the stock and turmeric. Bring to the boil, simmer gently for 15 minutes, then liquidise, in batches if necessary, until completely smooth.
Toast the nigella seeds in a small frying pan set over a medium heat until fragrant. Crush slightly in a mortar and pestle.
Put a griddle or frying pan over the heat and wait until it’s smoking hot. Add the flatbread. Cook for a few seconds on each side, until warmed through. Remove to a chopping board and slice into fine ribbons.
Gently reheat the soup over a low heat and serve with a spoonful of crème fraîche or yogurt, the toasted nigella seeds, chive sprouts and flatbread ribbons.
This substantial soup is made with chana dal (split, dried chickpeas) or the more common yellow dried split peas which will make a slightly smoother soup. Chana dal, in common with all pulses, are famously good at balancing blood sugar and are also high in valuable protein, making this a nutritious as well as a filling supper for very little outlay. Add less stock to make a thicker dal, if you prefer.
SERVES 4 GENEROUSLY
– 250g chana dal, or dried yellow split peas, rinsed
– 3 garlic cloves, peeled
– 2 green chillies
– 3 tbsp rice bran or groundnut oil, or other flavourless oil
– 2 tbsp cumin seeds
– pinch of asafoetida (optional)
– 3 shallots, sliced
– thumb of root ginger, peeled and finely chopped or grated
– ¾ tsp ground turmeric
– 1 tsp garam masala
– 1½ tsp ground coriander
– 400g can of plum tomatoes
– 300ml vegetable stock, or as needed
– sea salt and frehsly ground black pepper
– 1 tsp brown mustard seeds
Put the chana dal or split peas in a large saucepan with 1 litre of water. Bring to the boil, skim to remove any foam from the surface and simmer for 30–45 minutes, or until tender. Beat well with a wooden spoon to break the pulses down. Set aside.
Meanwhile, crush 2 of the garlic cloves and slice the third finely. Pierce 1 chilli with a knife, leaving it whole. Deseed and finely slice the second chilli and add to the sliced garlic.
Heat 2 tbsp of the oil in a second large saucepan or casserole. Add half the cumin seeds and cook for 30 seconds. Stir in the asafoetida, if using, with 2 of the sliced shallots and the whole chilli. Cook, stirring, for 5 minutes. Add the ginger, crushed garlic, turmeric, garam masala and coriander. Cook for a minute or so.
Snip the tomatoes in their opened can with scissors and tip into the pan with 200ml of the stock. Bring to the boil, then reduce the heat and simmer for 10 minutes. Stir in the cooked chana dal and add the remaining 100ml stock, as needed, to make a thick soup. At this stage, you can blend the soup with a hand-held blender if you would prefer it to be smooth. Season to taste and leave to simmer while you make the tarka.
In a small frying pan, heat the remaining 1 tbsp of oil. Add the mustard seeds and cook over a medium heat for 30 seconds or so, until they fizz and crackle. Stir in the remaining sliced shallot, sliced chilli and garlic, remaining cumin seeds and a pinch of salt. Cook through for 5 minutes, reducing the heat if it begins to catch. Divide the soupy dal between warmed bowls and spoon the tarka over to finish.
In terms of soothing soups, yellow split peas are hard to beat, softening to velvet here as they cook with sweet vegetables. If you want more crunch at the end, be a little more generous with the butter used to cook the final flourish of Brussels, throwing in a handful of small rye bread cubes halfway through. Keep them moving in the pan and they will turn crisp and golden by the time the sprout leaves are done.
SERVES 4—6
– 1 large onion, finely chopped
– 30g unsalted butter
– sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
– 1 large parsnip, scrubbed
– 2 large carrots, scrubbed
– ½ tsp caraway seeds
– sprig of rosemary
– 200g yellow split peas
– 1.5 litres vegetable stock
– 75g Brussels sprouts
– squeeze of lemon juice
– 1 tsp olive oil
Put the onion in a large saucepan or casserole with 20g of the butter and a pinch of salt. Set over a low-ish heat to cook, stirring now and then.
Chop the parsnip and carrots into small cubes – this is largely an unblended soup – and add to the onion pan with half the caraway seeds and the rosemary, stirring to coat in the butter. The onion should be translucent by now, so increase the heat slightly and cook for a further 5 minutes, until the roots begin to soften. Stir in the split peas, followed by the stock and another good pinch of salt. Bring to the boil and skim any scum off the top.
Reduce the heat and leave the peas to simmer for 35–40 minutes, until very soft. This cooking time will largely depend on the age of the split peas so start to check after 30 minutes, being prepared to let them cook for anything up to an hour, if needed. Splash in water to prevent the mixture sticking towards the end of the cooking time if they take longer than planned.
Meanwhile, prepare the sprouts by slicing off their bases and separating the leaves, slicing any tightly-packed middles that won’t unfurl.
Remove the rosemary sprig from the soup and blend about one-third of it (easiest using a hand-held blender directly in the pan). Return to the heat, adjusting the consistency and seasoning to taste. A squeeze of lemon juice should give the flavours a lift. Keep warm.
Put a large frying pan (you want the sprouts to have plenty of room) over a high heat and add the remaining 10g of butter with the oil. Once foaming, throw in the remaining caraway seeds and the Brussels sprouts, stir-frying for a few minutes until browned in places and just tender. Season. Divide the soup between warmed bowls and top with the charred sprout leaves.
Assuming you have spices on hand already, this is, dare I say it, a dinner party-worthy supper for very little outlay. It may seem fussy to cook the lentil component of the stuffing separately to the rice, but lentils are a strange beast, cooking very quickly or obstinately refusing to soften depending on age and storage conditions. Cooking them solo means they cook perfectly without impacting on the rice.
SERVES 4
– 4 baby pumpkins, about 12cm diameter or 700g each
– 4 tbsp sunflower oil, plus more for the pumpkins
– sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
– 4 fresh bay leaves
– 2 large onions, finely sliced
– 2 tbsp coriander seeds
– 2 tsp cumin seeds
– pinch of chilli flakes
– 200g brown basmati rice
– ½ tsp ground turmeric
– 520ml vegetable stock
– 150g green or brown lentils
– 200g baby spinach leaves
– 4 tbsp natural yogurt
Preheat the oven to 190°C/gas mark 5.
Cut the pumpkin tops off about one-quarter of the way down. Using a sturdy soup spoon, hollow out the centres, including all the seeds. (Please don’t attempt this with a knife; it is the fastest way to an injury.) Rub the pumpkins with oil and season the insides generously. Nestle into a roasting tin, large enough to hold all 4 pumpkins, tucking the ‘lids’ in wherever they will fit. Put a bay leaf into each hollow and roast for 1 hour.
Meanwhile, use your largest frying pan to cook the onions in 2 tbsp of the oil with a large pinch of salt. Keep over a medium heat and stir often for 10 minutes, until softened and turning brown. Reduce the heat slightly and continue to cook for 10 minutes or so, stirring whenever the onions begin to catch. They should be soft, sweet and frazzled in places.
Put the coriander and cumin seeds in a medium saucepan with the remaining 2 tbsp of oil. Cook over a low heat for a couple of minutes until the seeds are fizzing gently. Stir in the chilli flakes, rice and turmeric, followed by the stock. Bring to the boil, cover and simmer for 25 minutes until the rice is tender. Set aside for a few minutes to finish cooking.
In a separate pan, cover the lentils with plenty of water, bring to the boil and simmer briskly for about 20 minutes, or until just tender (start checking after 15 minutes, though they might take up to 30). Drain well.
Add the spinach to the hot rice pan and stir through to wilt. Add half the fried onions and all the lentils, stirring well and seasoning to taste. Divide this mixture between the roast pumpkins, removing the bay leaves first. Top with the reserved onions and a spoonful of yogurt to stir in as you eat, accompanying with the roast pumpkin lids.
This started life as a ramen-style soup, but it didn’t take many tries to conclude that getting depth and richness into a vegetarian ramen would take many hours. Cue a change of tack and a light, fresh, but no less pleasing noodle soup, with plenty of interest from pickles and vegetable goodies. Seek out a white or pale yellow miso for this, anything darker will be too spiky; you need mellow and sweet.
SERVES 4
– 4 radishes, trimmed and sliced or quartered
– 2 tbsp rice wine vinegar
– pinch of sea salt
– pinch of sugar
– sheet of dried kombu seaweed
– handful of fresh shiitake mushrooms, stalks separated, caps sliced
– 1 leek, washed and sliced
– 200g soba noodles
– 2 duck eggs
– 75g beansprouts
– large handful of seasonal greens, such as radish tops, kale, chard, or spinach
– 1–2 tbsp white or pale yellow mirin, or to taste
– 1–2 tbsp soy sauce, or to taste
– 2–3 tbsp white or yellow miso, or to taste
– 2 spring onions, finely sliced
Pickle the radishes by tossing them in the vinegar, salt and sugar. Set aside in a cool place for at least 2 hours, or chill for up to 2 weeks.
If you have time, soak the seaweed and the mushroom stalks in 1.4 litres of water for 30 minutes. Soaked or not, place the saucepan over a low heat and heat through (don’t boil) for 30 minutes to infuse the broth.
Strain the broth to remove the now-soft kombu piece and mushroom stalks, pressing down to extract all the flavour, including any gelatinous liquid clinging to the seaweed. Return the broth to the pan, adding the mushroom caps and the leek. Bring to the boil slowly, cover and simmer for anything from 20 minutes to 4 hours, depending on how savoury and concentrated you want the broth to be and how much time you have.
While the broth simmers, cook the extras:
In a separate pan, boil the soba noodles according to the packet instructions. Drain and set aside. Use the same pan to simmer the duck eggs in plenty of boiling water for 9–10 minutes. Refresh under cool water and peel when cool enough to handle. Again, refill the pan with water and return to the boil. Blanch the beansprouts for 30 seconds. Refresh under cool water and drain.
Add the greens to the simmering broth and let wilt for a minute. Season with the mirin, soy sauce and enough miso to cloud the broth. Taste and adjust as required. Add the noodles and warm through. Divide the soup between warmed bowls. Top each with spring onions, a halved duck egg, blanched beansprouts and a few slices of pickled radish for a bit of poke.
Iron-rich cabbage leaves stuffed with a spiced leek, parsnip and red lentil mixture, rolled up and cloaked in a rich tomato sauce… Not your average gratin, perhaps, but it really works. Less conventional still is the topping of crumbled feta, pistachios and dates. You could leave this out to keep costs down, but it adds so much to the flavour and texture that I highly recommend stretching to it, if you can.
SERVES 4
– 30g unsalted butter or ghee
– 1 large red onion, finely chopped
– sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
– large thumb of root ginger, peeled and finely grated
– fat pinch of chilli flakes
– 1 tsp ground turmeric
– 500g passata, sieved
– 1 tsp cumin seeds
– 2 leeks, finely sliced
– 2 medium parsnips (320g in total), grated
– 1 tsp garam masala
– 200g red lentils
– 650ml strong vegetable stock
– 12 large spring (or winter) green leaves, coarse stalks trimmed
– small handful of coriander, roughly chopped
– squeeze of lemon juice, or to taste
– flavourless oil, for the dish
– 100g feta cheese, crumbled
– 3 tbsp chopped pistachios
– 3 soft dates, pitted and chopped
Have 2 medium saucepans ready. Put the butter or ghee, red onion and a pinch of salt in a pan and cook over a medium heat, stirring often, for 8–10 minutes, until softened. Add the ginger, chilli flakes and turmeric and cook for a further minute. Now transfer half of this mixture to the second pan and add the passata. Simmer very gently for 15–20 minutes.
Go back to the first pan. Keeping it over a medium heat, add the cumin seeds and leeks to the remaining onion mixture, stirring for 5 minutes until softened. Stir in the parsnips, garam masala and red lentils, followed by the stock. Bring to the boil, cover and simmer gently for 25 minutes, stirring now and then, until the lentils are just cooked and the mixture is thick. (Boil down, uncovered, for a minute if any visible liquid remains on the base of the pan.) Remove from the heat and season generously.
Blanch the green leaves in plenty of boiling water for about 1 minute, drain in a colander and refresh under a cool tap, then pat dry.
Preheat the grill to medium. Stir most of the coriander and the lemon juice into the lentils. Taste. Season, or add lemon to brighten, if needed.
Oil a medium gratin dish (about 30 × 20cm is ideal). Lay a greens leaf out on a chopping board. Place 1 heaped tbsp of lentil mixture on the base and roll up to form a sealed cylinder, folding over both sides to close. Sit in the dish, seam-side down, and repeat with the remaining leaves and filling. Pour the tomato sauce over and slide under the grill for 10 minutes.
Combine the feta, pistachios, dates and remaining coriander, seasoning well with black pepper. Scatter this mixture over the gratin as soon as it emerges from the grill and let it sit for 5 minutes before serving, so the cheese can melt and the mixture can settle. Even better the next day, baked in a moderate oven until piping-hot.
The very idea of vegetarian pho might ruffle the aficionado’s feathers… Obviously, this incarnation of the famous noodle soup is made without bones, but it has resonance. Why northern-style? Because I find that they are both less sweet and noticeably spiced. Of course, you can offer the whole gamut of herbs, beansprouts and even hoisin sauce alongside, as you find in summery, Saigon-style interpretations.
SERVES 4
– 2 parsnips
– 2 large carrots
– 2 celery sticks
– 2 sweet white onions
– 300g shiitake or field mushrooms
– 2 tbsp groundnut oil
– 1 tsp palm or brown sugar
– 4 unpeeled garlic cloves
– 1 whole red chilli
– large thumb of root ginger
– 2 tbsp light soy sauce
– 1 star anise
– 1 small cinnamon stick
– 1 clove
– 6 white peppercorns
– handful of coriander with stalks
– 5 spring onions, shredded
– 200g dried flat rice noodles
– sea salt
– 100g beansprouts
– chilli or sriracha sauce, to serve
– lime wedges
Preheat the oven to 200°C/gas mark 6. Thickly slice the parsnips, carrots, celery, 1 of the sweet onions and half the mushrooms. In a large roasting tin, toss them with the oil, sugar, garlic and chilli, spreading out in 1 layer (use 2 tins if there isn’t enough room; they must roast, not steam). Roast for 50 minutes, stirring twice, until sticky and soft, but not burnt.
Meanwhile, halve the remaining onion. Slice half paper-thin with a mandolin or very sharp knife. Cover with water in a bowl and set aside. Preheat the grill to high, or turn a gas burner to high. Either grill the ginger thumb and onion half, turning every minute until smoking and blackened in places, or spear both with large forks and hold directly over a gas flame until lightly charred all over. This will add a smoky depth.
Get a large saucepan or stockpot ready. Fill it with 1.8 litres of water. Add all the roast vegetables, the charred ginger and onion, soy sauce and whole spices. Cut the stalks from the coriander and add these, with the roots if present. Bring to the boil, part-cover and simmer for 45 minutes, until the broth is reduced by one-quarter. Carefully strain it through a sieve into a large bowl, pressing down on the vegetables to get every last drop out of them. Empty the pan and return the strained broth to it with the remaining sliced mushrooms and the spring onions. Return to the boil and simmer, uncovered, for 10 minutes. Taste and reduce a little more if it tastes too weak (remembering it isn’t seasoned yet).
When the broth is done, soak the noodles in plenty of just-boiled water for 8 minutes, then drain. They should be barely cooked. Taste the broth again and add salt to bring the flavours alive. Divide the noodles, drained onion slices and beansprouts between 4 wide, warmed serving bowls, stir the coriander leaves into the broth and ladle over the noodles. Serve with chilli or sriracha sauce and lime wedges for seasoning at the table.
Chickpea crepes are common in Italian cookery and I wonder that we don’t eat more of them. This is a cheap recipe for late spring, when there is a glut of asparagus and wild garlic. (Please don’t pay good money for an abundant, free herb. Substitute basil, watercress or rocket, or a combination, instead.) Make it cheaper by subbing hen’s eggs in for duck’s, or leave the eggs and cheese out for a vegan meal.
SERVES 4
– 100g gram (chickpea) flour
– 2 wild garlic leaves, shredded, plus 2 handfuls (about 60g) wild garlic leaves and stems, washed and roughly chopped
– 1 tsp fine salt
– 2 tbsp hulled hemp seeds, or chopped almonds
– 25g vegetarian pasta cheese, finely grated (optional)
– 6 tbsp extra virgin olive oil, plus more to cover if needed
– sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
– 1–2 tbsp lemon juice
– olive oil
– 4 duck eggs
– bunch of young or wild asparagus, woody ends snapped off
Put the chickpea flour in a large mixing bowl and gradually whisk in 150–160ml of water to form a smooth batter with the consistency of single cream. Stir in the shredded garlic leaves and fine salt. Set aside at room temperature for 1–4 hours (or 30 minutes, in a pinch).
Meanwhile, make the wild garlic pesto. Using a mortar and pestle, or the small bowl of a food processor, pound or blitz the hemp seeds or chopped almonds with the remaining wild garlic and the cheese, if using. Gradually pound or blitz in the extra virgin olive oil to form a rustic pesto, season to taste and brighten with lemon juice. If you’re not using the pesto in this recipe, or are making it for something else in advance, cover with a film of extra virgin olive oil and chill for up to 4 days.
When ready to cook, wipe the surface of a large cast-iron or non-stick frying pan with kitchen paper dipped in regular olive oil and place over very high heat until smoking. Reduce the heat to medium-high. Spoon a ladleful of the batter into the pan, swirling gently to encourage it to spread into an even circle. Cook it for 10 seconds, then flip it over with a spatula and cook on the other side. Remove to a plate, keep warm, and repeat to make 4 crepes. You may have a little batter left if you didn’t need to practise on a first, throwaway crepe to get the technique right.
In a separate pan, gently fry the duck eggs, 2 at a time, in 1 tbsp or so of regular olive oil, until the whites are set and the lacy edges are golden. Give them room so they stay separate, and spoon a little hot oil over them as they cook. Drain on kitchen paper and keep warm. Steam the asparagus for 3–4 minutes, depending on thickness, until just tender.
To serve, lay one-quarter of the asparagus and a fried egg on each crepe. Season, then top with a good spoonful of wild garlic pesto, fold the edges over and eat hot.
Bought paneer, a mild and low-fat Indian cheese, is good value, but can be bland. These subtly spiced dosas, with their spring-like filling of curried peas and pea shoots, will perk it up no end. You can use a 200g can of chopped tomatoes instead of the fresh and miss out the fragrant, fresh curry leaves if you can’t find them. Be careful while the paneer fries, as the moisture in the cheese can spit.
SERVES 4
For the dosas
– 50g fine semolina or cornmeal
– 50g rice flour
– 25g spelt flour
– 2 green chillies, deseeded and chopped
– ½ small onion, finely chopped
– 3cm root ginger, peeled and finely chopped
– 8 fresh curry leaves, chopped
– generous pinch of sea salt
For the paneer curry
– 3 tbsp groundnut oil, plus more for the dosas
– 300g paneer cheese, chopped into cubes
– 1 tsp cumin seeds
– large thumb of root ginger, peeled and finely grated
– 200g tomatoes, chopped
– ½ tsp ground turmeric
– sea salt
– handful of coriander, roughly chopped
– 250g peas, defrosted if frozen
– pea shoots, to serve
Mix the flours in a bowl with half the chilli, the onion, ginger, curry leaves and salt. Gradually whisk in 220ml of water; the consistency should be a bit thicker than milk. Pour into a jug and set aside for 30 minutes.
Make the curry. Put the 3 tbsp of groundnut oil in a wok or large frying pan set over a high heat. Gently add the paneer and fry for 2 minutes, turning often, until they turn a pale, golden brown. Remove with a slotted spoon and drain on kitchen paper.
Pour most of the oil away, leaving 1 tbsp in the pan. Reduce the heat to medium and add the cumin seeds. When they become fragrant, stir in the ginger, remaining chopped chilli, tomatoes, turmeric and a generous pinch of salt. Stir well and allow to cook for a minute, then return the paneer cubes to the pan with 100ml water. Bring to the boil, partially cover with a lid and simmer for 5 minutes. Stir in the coriander and peas, adding a splash of water if the mixture looks dry, and cook for a couple more minutes. Remove from the heat and set aside while you cook the dosas.
For the dosas, place a large non-stick frying pan over a high heat and wipe it with a piece of kitchen paper generously dipped in groundnut oil. Pour 1 medium ladleful of the batter into the hot pan, from the edges towards the centre, swirling quickly to make a very thin lacy crepe. Sprinkle a few drops of oil over. Cook for 30 seconds–1 minute, until the base is golden or crisp. Flip over and cook for a further 30 seconds or so. When both sides are lightly coloured, remove the dosa to a plate. Prepare all the dosas this way, stacking them up on the plate separated by sheets of baking parchment. Cover the plate with foil and keep warm in a low oven.
Re-warm the paneer curry and serve, wrapped in the dosas with handfuls of pea shoots.
An unusual, fragrant, dry-style curry, making full use of dill’s affinity with chickpeas and sweet carrots. Use any mild oil in place of coconut butter if you don’t have the latter or don’t like its mild, coconut taste (in which case, you might want to swap the coconut cream in the bright purple raita for more yogurt and leave out the desiccated coconut). Rather not buy a single beetroot? Substitute a small carrot instead.
SERVES 4
For the raita
– 1 small beetroot, scrubbed
– 4 tbsp natural yogurt
– 3 tbsp coconut cream
– 3 tbsp desiccated coconut
– 2 tbsp lime juice
– sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
For the curry
– 1 tsp coriander seeds
– 1 tsp cumin seeds
– 2 tbsp coconut oil
– 1 red onion, chopped
– 300g carrots, sliced into chubby matchsticks
– 1 tsp hot chilli powder
– 1 tsp ground turmeric
– 2 garlic cloves, crushed
– thumb of root ginger, peeled and finely grated
– 2 vine tomatoes, chopped
– 2 bunches of dill, finely chopped
– 400g can of chickpeas, drained and rinsed
– steamed rice or flatbreads, to serve
Start by making the raita. Coarsely grate the beetroot into a bowl, skin and all. Mix in the yogurt, coconut cream and desiccated coconut. Stir in 1 tbsp of the lime juice and season well. Cover and chill until needed.
Toast the coriander and cumin seeds in a small frying pan set over a medium heat, stirring them often for about a minute, until fragrant and toasted. Crush in a mortar and pestle.
Melt the coconut oil in a medium-sized saucepan. Cook the onion over a medium-low heat, stirring often, for about 7 minutes. Stir in the carrots and cook for 5 minutes more, until the onion is soft and translucent. Add the chilli powder with the toasted spices, turmeric, garlic and ginger, stirring and cooking for 2 minutes or so. Stir in the tomatoes, increase the heat by a notch and sauté for 5 minutes, until the tomatoes begin to break down.
Add the dill, chickpeas, 4 tbsp of water and a generous pinch of salt. Simmer, stirring now and then, for 6–8 minutes, until the dill is completely soft and the carrots are tender. Stir in the remaining 1 tbsp of lime juice off the heat. Taste and add salt and pepper as needed. Serve with rice or flatbreads, spooning on the raita as you eat.
If you can, cook the veg for this Tunisian-style ‘salad’ – a spiced ratatouille of sorts – on a barbecue. Once charred and soft, roughly chop them. It is a frugal dish if made at the end of summer. You can eat it with quartered hard-boiled eggs and steamed couscous if you want to be more traditional. Or continue the rebellion by serving it with griddled halloumi slices or baked feta.
SERVES 4
– 3 large, sweet peppers (red, yellow or orange)
– 2 red chillies, 1 halved and deseeded, 1 finely sliced
– olive oil
– 1 small aubergine
– 2 green courgettes, plus 1 yellow courgette (ideally)
– 1 red onion, thickly sliced
– 200g baby plum tomatoes
– sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
– 2 tsp coriander seeds
– 1½ tsp caraway seeds
– 1 tsp cumin seeds
– 5 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
– 1 fat garlic clove, finely chopped
– finely grated zest and juice of 1 unwaxed lemon
– 1 tsp sweet paprika
– large handful of flat-leaf parsley, chopped
Preheat the oven to 220°C/gas mark 7.
Halve the peppers, removing their stalks and seeds. Arrange in a single layer, skin-side up, in a large roasting tin with the halved chilli tucked under a pepper half. Drizzle with a little regular olive oil, slide into the top of the oven and roast for about 30 minutes, until highly coloured and soft.
Destalk, trim and roughly chop the aubergine and courgettes and tip into a second, large roasting tin with the red onion and tomatoes. Toss with enough oil to coat lightly and season well. The vegetables should have room to breathe rather than sitting on top of each other. Slide into the centre of the oven to roast under the peppers. After 25–30 minutes they will be soft, burnished and sweet. Cover loosely with foil and set aside.
Retrieve the chilli halves from the pepper tray and finely chop. Tip the roast peppers into a bowl and sit the now-empty roasting tin on top. Set aside for 10 minutes to steam before skinning the peppers and shredding with a knife (wear rubber gloves if you can’t wait for them to cool first!).
Meanwhile, put the coriander, caraway and cumin seeds in a frying pan and toast over a medium heat for about a minute, until fragrant and lightly toasted. Tip into a mortar and pestle and crush lightly. Return the pan to a low heat with the extra virgin olive oil and the garlic. Cook extremely gently for 5 minutes, infusing the oil rather than browning the garlic. Add the chopped red chilli, crushed spices, lemon zest and paprika. Remove from the heat and stir in the lemon juice, parsley and seasoning to taste.
Put all the roast veg in a warmed serving dish and douse with the dressing.
You can find, or make, sweet-sharp pomegranate molasses without spending much. Firstly, buy it in Middle Eastern and Asian shops for far less than the supermarket or deli price; a bottle lasts for an age in a cool cupboard. Secondly, substitute date syrup with a squeeze of lemon juice. In a pinch, juice the remaining pomegranate half, simmering it down with brown sugar until thick and syrupy.
SERVES 4—6
– 250g wheat grains (wheat berries)
– sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
– 2 bunches of baby carrots, reserving the leafy tops
– 1 tbsp coriander seeds
– olive oil
– 400g can of chickpeas, drained and rinsed
– 1 tbsp cumin seeds
– 2 garlic cloves, skins on
– 100g walnut halves
– 2 tbsp pomegranate molasses, or to taste
– squeeze of lemon juice
– 5 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
– ½ pomegranate, arils (seeds) only
– large handful of rocket leaves
Preheat the oven to 200°C/gas mark 6.
Put the wheat in a large saucepan with a generous pinch of salt, cover with cool water and bring to the boil. Once boiling, reduce the heat to a gentle simmer, partially cover and leave to cook for 25–30 minutes, until the grains are just tender (they should still be chewy). Drain and set aside.
On a large baking tray, toss the carrots with the coriander seeds and a generous drizzle of regular olive oil. Season, spread out well and roast for about 40 minutes, until browned and soft. On a second baking tray, toss the chickpeas, cumin seeds and garlic cloves with another generous drizzle of regular oil, season, spread out and roast, alongside the carrots, for 25–30 minutes, until the chickpeas turn golden and the garlic softens.
Toast the walnuts in the oven for 5–7 minutes, until they turn a couple of shades darker.
To make the dressing, crush the roast garlic cloves from the chickpea tray with the back of a knife, discarding the skins. Put in a bowl and stir in the pomegranate molasses, lemon juice, extra virgin olive oil and seasoning to taste. Chop or crush half the walnuts quite finely and stir these in, too.
Chop about 2 tbsp of the reserved green carrot tops, if you have them, (substitute with parsley or chervil if you don’t) and toss with the wheat, roast carrots, roast chickpeas, pomegranate seeds, rocket and half the dressing. Transfer to a platter, spoon the remaining dressing over and scatter with the remaining toasted walnuts.
A baked, seed-coated and bean-based picnic egg. Or leave out any suggestion of egg to make the bean mixture into vegan burger patties. Take your time to crush the butter beans and chickpeas properly; they don’t need to be smooth, but should be smashed roughly for the mix to hold together. Chipotle chilli, a favourite stalwart, adds depth, spice and sweet smoke to both bean coating and tomato dip.
MAKES 4
– 6 medium eggs
– 1 tsp hot smoked paprika
– sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
– 100g mixed seeds
– 1 large red onion, finely chopped
– 1 tbsp sunflower oil, plus more for the tin
– 400g can of chopped tomatoes
– 4 tsp chipotle paste (or 1 large chipotle chilli in adobo, finely chopped)
– pinch of brown sugar
– 400g can of chickpeas, drained and rinsed
– 2 × 400g cans of butter beans, drained and rinsed
– finely grated zest of 1 unwaxed lemon
– small handful of coriander, chopped, plus more to serve
Put 4 of the eggs in a small saucepan, cover with cool water and bring to the boil. From the moment the water boils, set the timer and simmer gently for 4½ minutes. Drain, gently crack the shells once and refresh under running water until cool enough to peel completely. Dry the peeled eggs with kitchen paper and dust with the paprika.
Crack the remaining 2 eggs into a shallow bowl, season and beat lightly to combine. Empty the mixed seeds into a second shallow bowl. Set aside.
Gently fry the chopped red onion in the oil for 8–10 minutes, stirring often, until very soft and turning brown. Tip half into a bowl, keeping the rest in the pan. Stir the chopped tomatoes, 2 tsp of the chipotle paste and the sugar into the remaining chopped onion in the pan. Simmer over a medium-high heat for 15 minutes, stirring often, until reduced and thick.
Meanwhile, add the chickpeas and butter beans to the cooked onion in the bowl and crush with a potato masher, taking care to crush every pulse to make a textured mash. Stir in the lemon zest, remaining chipotle paste, coriander and seasoning to taste, then stir in 1 tbsp of the beaten egg to help the mixture bind. Mix thoroughly, mashing the mixture together. Pat the surface down and make a cross in the top to divide it into 4 even portions. Taking one-quarter at a time, flatten the mixture in your hand, bringing the sides up to form a ‘cup’. Put a paprika-dusted egg in the centre and seal the mixture to evenly and snugly enclose it with no air gaps. Repeat with the remaining bean mixture and boiled eggs.
Line a roasting tin with non-stick baking paper and oil the paper lightly. Roll each sphere in beaten egg to coat lightly, then into the mixed seeds. Space them out in the tin and bake for 45 minutes, until golden. Rest for 10 minutes, then carefully remove from the tin with a spatula. Serve warm or cool, with the smoky tomato dip and more coriander scattered over.
Salads are normally pricey things to make, especially once you start adding nuts or herbs. This salad relies on a good storecupboard, a generous amount of tofu in a miso-orange glaze and plenty of crunchy vegetables. You might want to steam some rice to serve, or toss noodles through the mixture. If you have any in the fridge, a handful of coriander or mint is lovely stirred through this.
SERVES 2
– large thumb of root ginger
– 250g Japanese cabbage or Chinese leaf, or white cabbage
– 1 carrot, shredded or grated
– 1 parsnip, shredded or grated
– 2 large oranges
– 2 tbsp honey
– 1 tbsp miso paste, (a pale and mellow one)
– 2 tbsp light soy sauce
– pinch of chilli flakes
– 2 tbsp sesame seeds
– 2 tbsp groundnut oil
– 200g firm tofu, drained and chopped into cubes
– 2 tsp toasted sesame oil
– 1 tbsp rice wine or white wine vinegar
– 4 spring onions, shredded
Peel the ginger and slice it into fine matchsticks, or coarsely grate.
Shred the cabbage very finely with a mandolin or a sharp knife. Put in a large bowl, add the carrot and parsnip and cover with ice-cold water. Add a handful of ice if you have any, then set aside for 20 minutes to crisp up.
Pare the zest and pith from 1 of the oranges with a sharp knife and cut the flesh into discs. Sweep any juice on the chopping board into a jug. Halve the other orange, juice it and add to the jug. Whisk in the honey, miso paste, soy sauce, chilli flakes and shredded ginger.
Put the sesame seeds in a large wok or frying pan and toast over a medium heat until golden. Tip out on to a plate, then return the pan to a high heat and add the oil. Pat the tofu cubes with kitchen paper to dry them and fry in the pan until brown on all sides. Remove to the sesame seed plate and return the pan to the heat. Pour in all but 2 tbsp of the orange juice mixture, giving it a good stir first. Bring up to a rolling boil, reduce the heat a notch and slowly reduce the liquid for 15 minutes, until it forms a sticky glaze. Return the tofu and sesame seeds to the pan, turning carefully to coat all over and warm through.
Drain the cabbage and root vegetables very thoroughly, tossing with the orange slices, toasted sesame oil, rice vinegar and reserved orange juice mixture. Divide between 4 bowls and top with the sticky tofu and sesame seeds. Finish with the shredded spring onions.
Cooking on a budget can include lots of fresh vegetables if you keep them unassuming and shop in season… hence this colourful and unabashedly inauthentic supper will be cheap to make in autumn, when sweetcorn is plentiful and kale and cabbage are coming into their own. Hopefully, coriander, chilli and a fresh lime or two are permissible extras, though the first two could be left out in a pinch.
SERVES 2 (EASILY DOUBLED)
– 1 tbsp sunflower oil
– 1 small red onion, chopped
– 2 garlic cloves, crushed
– 400g can of black beans, with its liquid
– 1 tsp chipotle paste (optional)
– 2 limes, juice of 1½, remaining half cut into wedges
– sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
– 150g sweetcorn kernels (1 large cob)
– 1 red chilli, deseeded and finely chopped
– ¼ red cabbage, shredded
– handful of coriander, roughly chopped
– 8 small (10cm) corn tortillas
– 75g vintage Cheddar cheese, grated
– small handful of young kale leaves, finely shredded
– hot sauce and sour cream, to serve
Heat the oil in a medium saucepan and add the onion. Cook over a medium heat for about 8 minutes, stirring often, until softened and golden. Stir in the garlic and fry for 2 minutes more. Add the beans and their liquid with the chipotle paste, if using. Cook gently for 4–5 minutes, until the beans have softened further. Remove from the heat and crush the beans with a potato masher to make a rough purée, seasoning to taste with lime juice, salt and pepper.
Put your largest frying pan over a very high heat. Once smoking-hot, add the sweetcorn kernels, spreading them out in a single layer. Cook for a few minutes, stirring only occasionally, until well-charred in places. Watch out for popping corn! Tip into a bowl and toss with the chilli, shredded cabbage and coriander. Add lime juice and seasoning to taste. Set aside.
Place the rinsed-out frying pan over a medium-low heat. Once dry, add 2–4 tortillas, depending on the size of your pan, and toast until lightly golden on one side. Flip and cover the new upperside of each with a scant layer of grated Cheddar, a spoonful of beans, a layer of shredded kale and a final layer of Cheddar. Cook for 2 minutes, or until the base layer of cheese begins to melt. Lay a second tortilla on top of each stack, pressing down gently. Carefully flip each quesadilla over with a spatula and continue to cook for 2 minutes or so, until the new base tortilla is crisp and the cheese melted. If your pan would only hold 2 tortillas at once, repeat the process to make 4 quesadillas in all, keeping the cooked portions warm.
Slice each little quesadilla in half and serve with the remaining black beans (there will be a good two spoonfuls leftover), the sweetcorn salsa, lime wedges, hot sauce and sour cream.
Whole, roast cauliflowers sit in a sharp sauce, singing with Cheddar and rich in crème fraîche. Nubbly barley grains (or spelt, if that’s what you have) are stirred through before the final bake, adding bolster and texture. Diet food this most certainly isn’t, but then this is a cookery book, not a diet book, and sometimes a cold day demands something proper.
SERVES 4 AS A MAIN COURSE, OR 6—8 AS A SIDE DISH
– 100g pearl barley or spelt
– sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
– 4 small cauliflowers of any colour, trimmed
– olive oil
– 1 banana shallot, finely chopped
– 3 tbsp dry white wine
– 250g vintage or extra-mature Cheddar cheese, grated
– 1 tsp Dijon mustard
– 150g crème fraîche
– handful of stale breadcrumbs
– small handful of flat-leaf parsley, chopped (optional)
Cook the barley or spelt on the hob with enough water to cover generously and a pinch of salt, allowing the grains to simmer for 20 minutes, or until tender. Drain well and set aside.
Preheat the oven to 200°C/gas mark 6. Cut a deep cross in the base of each cauliflower and make sure they sit flat. Toss them in a generous amount of oil to coat and place in an ovenproof dish (they should fit quite snugly as the sauce needs to collect around them later on). Cover loosely with foil and roast for 30–35 minutes, until tender to the point of a knife.
To make the sauce, heat a splash of olive oil in a heavy-based saucepan, add the shallot and cook for 5 minutes or so, until translucent and softened. Add the wine and bubble down until only 1 tbsp remains. Reduce the heat to its lowest setting and add the cheese, mustard and crème fraîche. Stir constantly until the cheese melts to a smooth sauce. Stir in the drained barley or spelt and season to taste; it is a very strong and sparky sauce so it shouldn’t need much salt, if any.
Spoon the sauce over and around the cauliflowers, concentrating the grains in the base of the dish where they won’t catch. Scrunch the breadcrumbs with a drizzle more olive oil to moisten and scatter over the top. Return to the oven for 10–15 minutes, or until browned and bubbling. Throw the chopped parsley on before serving, if you like. A crisp salad of bitter leaves or steamed winter greens both work well alongside, if this is to be a main course dish.
