Champignons a la grecque

Making mixed starters (or assorted horses dovers^(sic) as they are known at ours)  for a family gathering I returned to an old favourite, champignons a la grecque,  a quickly made cooked mushroom salad. Although I think of this dish as something for the summer, it works very well in the winter, the dressing is lightly acid and softly spicy, and the mushrooms have a fleshy firmness, and stay surprisingly pale. Best of all this recipe is wonderfully simple. It's taken from Elizabeth David's French Provincial Cooking, almost verbatim. Having made a swift stab at trying to find a similar recipe in Greek recipes (in translation, of course), and came up with nothing. So, I'll keep looking, out of curiosity. In the meantime it's a lovely little recipe for a tasty little dish.

It's very nice on its own with a piece of toast, or with some hummous, or as part of a mixed hors d'oeuvres. At this time of year it's a nice and light little something to go with roast meat, hot or cold. 

Cooking notes

Resist the temptation to add more liquid, it really isn’t necessary, even though it looks like there isn't much there.
You can substitute two tinned tomatoes or two large spoonfuls of chopped tomatoes for the fresh ones. It may make extra liquid, but it will reduce down.

On the same basis, it’s worth using a nice olive oil, but not necessarily the best, as it'll lose its body once it's boiled to reduce it.

RECIPE

Large bowl of small mushrooms, around 180g (or large ones cut in quarters)

juice of half a lemon

tsp of coriander seeds

1 tsp of peppercorns, cracked

Large pinch of salt

3 tbsp olive oil

3 tbsp water

2 peeled and chopped tomatoes

·        Shake off/rub clean the mushrooms

·        Put the mushrooms into a bowl and sprinkle with the lemon juice and shake gently, and set aside

·        Put all the other ingredients into a pan and bring to the boil, simmer for a couple of minutes

·        Add the mushrooms and any juice in the bottom of the bowl

·        Bring to the boil, cover and simmer for five minutes

·        Take out the mushrooms and set aside back in bowl

·        Boil the liquid, uncovered until it’s  reduced by half, then pour it over the cooked mushrooms, stirring gently to mix

If you like you can sprinkle a teaspoonful of finely chopped parsley over the mushrooms, or a mixture of parsley and fresh coriander. It adds a little something, and looks pretty.

That’s it.

My mixed starters included mushrooms a la grecque, celery remoulade, sliced cooked beetroot and sliced cucumbers, roast veg, green salad. For meat lovers I included some mixed salami.

Celery soup

I heard recently that some people have a particular sense of smell that makes celery repellent to them. I’m not sure it’s true, even though I am one of those people to whom the joy of a raw stick of celery remains a mystery. I don’t like it, neither the taste, nor the vigorously stringy nature of it. Maybe my chewing skills are inadequate.  In my mouth it resembles a mouthful of dental floss, without the minty freshness. Now, cooked celery, that’s another matter. I like it braised, and I love it in soup. If you don’t cook it too long it lends a lovely green to this soup. I puree the soup, putting the fibre to good use, but I also like it with the liquid clear and the celery and other veg sitting in it. In that state I like to grate cheese over it. But I digress, this is a recipe for the smooth pureed version, which I like to enrich with a blob of cream and lots of black pepper or pungent ailloli. You choose.

Cream of celery soup

• 1 Large head of celery
• 2 Onions
• 2 cloves garlic
• Small handful of parsley
• 1 large potato
• Olive oil or butter

·        -  Peel wash and chop all the veg, as appropriate – aim for everything to be chopped to about the same size, to make sure it all cooks at the same pace

·         - In  a heavy based pan melt a knob of butter (or use olive oil) over medium heat

·         - Gently fry the onion, celery and garlic, until the onion is translucent

·        -  Add about two pints, a scant litre of stock, along with the chopped potato

·        -  Simmer gently for around twenty minutes, until everything is cooked, then add the parsley

·        -  Puree, taste and season

- Serve with a spoonful of cream or aioli

This is enough for six hungry people, or eight not so greedy.

Peace sauce

I've been checking out the blog statistics, and am so thrilled that people are looking at recipes for food I love. In particular I notice that lots of people are looking the the gunpowder sauce recipe. It's a wonderful ingredient that can make stir fries taste fab, giving a real tang. I just hope that the people checking the page are actually looking for a sauce recipe. If not, perhaps it might give a little pause for peace. Here's hoping.

Tarator

I've been experimenting with tarator, an alternative to maionnaise, made with nuts, oil and garlic. Recipes and pix to follow.

It's very nice with the veggie turnovers.

Little tasty turnovers

Inspired by a visit to an Afghan restaurant, these little turnovers are deliciously fresh. If I say so myself. I'm not a great fan of fiddly cooking, still, I reserve the right to say this isn't fiddly. It just involves lots of chopping. And a bit of boiling. And rolling out pastry (shop bought in my case). OK, it's fiddly, and the pay-off makes it worth it. Little parcels of loveliness. I served these up with a tarator, a bit lumpy, because it was my first time making it. Tarator is a nut sauce, a bit like maionnaise (apart from my first attempt). The combination is perfect for vegetarians, vegans and anyone with tastebuds. If you are wheat intolerant the whole thing would work with rice pastry. 

Oh, what's in it? Leeks, carrots, potato, coriander, teeny bit of dill, pepper and salt. The shop bought pastry is made just with oil. 

RECIPE

Two large leeks (or a bunch of spring onions)

Two potatoes (cooked in their skins, peeled when cool enough)

Generous handful of finely chopped coriander (cilantro to some) including stems

Pinch of dill

One large carrot, cooked

Ground black pepper

Salt

Tablespoonful of oil

½ block of ready-made puff pastry

Set the oven to Gas Mark 7/425F/220C

• Cut the leeks (or spring onions) into fine slices
• Cook gently over low heat in the oil – careful not to burn, you don’t want that caramel taste
• Peel the cooked potatoes and cut into very small cubes, chop up the carrots in the same way
• Take the softened leeks off the heat, season with pepper and salt and stir through all the other ingredients

You can make this mixture the day before if you want to

Roll the pastry out very thin, keeping the rectangular shape

Cut into nine square of approximately equal size

Put two heaped teaspoons of the mixture in each, moisten the edges of the pastry, fold over, and crimp together with a fork

Snick a little hole into the top of the turnover (pasty)

Brush with egg if you like, to give golden colour

Cook in oven for 20 minutes or until golden.

paring knives - where can you get them?

Those little knives that are so useful in the kitchen, paring knives. Why can't you get them any more. I don't mean  razor sharp plastic handled knives. I mean little knives with wooden handles, often a little bit blunt, that your mum used to use to scrape potatoes, imagining she did such a thing. Sitting on a stool in the summer, with a bown soaking the spuds and loosening the skin. With a saucepan full of water for the peeled, pared or scraped veg on one side. There were always too many potatoes for the gathered masses.

We need more paring knives. Couteau d'office in French. It's official.

although treasured, this knife has been in the compost for some time... 

... but a perfect example of a paring knife, balance of blade and handle just right

a modern equivalent, blade's too long, handle is plastic

small sabatier, carbon steel, king of knives, but not a paring knife

Everyone has their of perfection. Like Goldilocks, I like to try things out before pronouncing, and yes, sometimes things do get broken along the way. No forced entry here, these knives are all mine, and paid for. The small slightly rotted paring knife at the top is the elusive ideal. That one probably dates from the 90s. If anyone knows where I can get another, I'd be grateful for the information. It's a good scraper, ideal corer and, aesthetically, just lovely.

tooth hurty leftover soup

Even with tooth ache I still think about food. It seems pain is no barrier to hunger, or perhaps it's greed. Following in the family footsteps, Liv asked for smooth food when she got back from the dentist. While cooking I got blow by blow descriptions of injections, the callousness of dental professionals and the overwhelming, intolerable experience of pain. I tried to maintain interest, and summon up some sympathy. Fortunately experience has reduced my daughters' expectations, apart from when it comes to food.

Soup is a clear winner as a post dentist meal. I do like a clear soup, with cabbage and carrot in visible strips, especially with home made stock, but that isn't suitable now, as bits can get caught in holes: we'll move along. Out with the stick blender, some leftover dhal and green stir fry, heat both up with a mugful of water, blend to make a smooth soup and bob is your uncle. I like a bit of toast to go with, and if you're worried about the bits, tear it up and let it soak a little in the soup.

Simple, and delicious. And no, Liv, we won't be getting a microwave.

red fruit coulis - no sugar added

Coulis, is a jewel coloured fruit tang that adds a lot to desserts. Fancy chefs scribble on the plate with it, and sit chocolate mousses, cakes and more on top. It's a lovely supplement to a fruit salad, it's the ripple in the raspberry ripple, and it's a way to keep the flavour of red soft fruit without having the depressing sight of it turning into mush: it's mush with attitude.

On Sunday it worked brilliantly alongside Kitty's creme brulee (NB the creme brulee that was pronounced by a grateful cousin as the best he'd ever tasted). The coulis was made of thawed frozen fruit (500g bag of raspberries, redcurrants, blackberries and ... more). Instead of sugar I used 12 dates, soaked for a few hours in water (straight from the kettle, boiling water). The fruit was blended with the dates, along with the water and and the mixture was passed through a sieve to get rid of all those little pips that get stuck in your teeth, and in between your teeth. The result was a rich red, full bodied, flavoursome coulis, that will go very well with the meringues being made at the moment, from all the leftover egg whites. Sugar is used in the meringue, not dates. If your coulis is too thick, go mad, and add some more water.

Left over coulis can be frozen in ice cube trays and decanted into plastic bags. Unthickened coulis would top a cheesecake, a merveille.

Lemony Almond Shortbread

Makes 30+

This is a mixture of recipes for shortbread, with a mixture of flours, almond, plain flour and a little wholemeal flour. The almonds add a little flavour, and make the biscuits a tiny bit chewy. The lemon flavour comes out. If you are substituting non wheat flour it will make the biscuits crisper, and you don’t need to let the dough rest. If you don’t want to use butter (or don’t have any) it’s best to chill the dough before using it, and the biscuits will cook a little quicker.

Be careful around these biscuits, I’ve just eaten more than I meant to, with a cup of tea. I’m regretting it only because I’m quite uncomfortable. Eating them seemed so right at the time.

200g plain flour (or 175/25 plain/wholemeal mix)
225g salted butter, softened
125g caster sugar, plus extra for sprinkling
1tsp lemon zest (grate really fine)
150g ground almonds

• Beat the butter and sugar together, along with the lemon zest, until creamy. Use a machine to avoid arm ache.
• Beat in the dry ingredients a little at a time. It may not seem likely to come together into a dough, but it will. Don’t add any liquid.
• Press the dough together and allow to rest for half an hour. Up to this point you can prepare the dough ahead and leave it, using it a bit at a time.

When you’re ready to make biscuits set the oven to Gas Mark 3/325F/150C (a moderate oven).

Prepare a baking tray – line it with baking parchment.

Roll out the dough and cut with a cutter if you like – and prick with a fork, or roll balls about the size of a walnut – and flatten with a fork.

Cook for 20 minutes, or until very lightly golden.

Allow to sit for 5 minutes before putting the biscuits on a rack to cool.

pudding contribution... burnt cream, pineapple with raspberry coulis

Kit's cooking creme brulee for our contribution to lunch tomorrow, starting with an accompaniment of Good Vibrations. We've lost the dinky kitchen blowtorch so Steve will be used a flamethrower to caramelise the sugar. A normal blowtorch actually, that was a lie. Kit's last attempt at melting the sugar in the oven resulted in an overcooked scramble meets old custard, which was unpleasant. I hope she remembers the vanilla this time too. It's so easy to forget an ingredient when you're doing a recipe that seems familiar.

We got loads of fantastic fruit on Portobello Market today. Plums (purple skinned quetsch type, not the Victorias they were labelled as, since they are yellow flesh and reddish yellow skin. A bit of a shocker the innacuracy of experienced grocers.) raspberries, strawberries, and apples. The pineapple is massive and delicious. Blue (dog) added it to her fruit-I-like list. It will go with us as an additional pud to have with the creme, and I'll make a raspberry coulis ... pictures to follow.

She's got onto Ed Sheeran now, he doesn't need them and he didn't go to Brit School. They must be about to go into the oven.