As my time at home rapidly approaches an end, I appreciate more than ever quite how scrumptious home cooking can be and, when one is elbow deep in daily tasks and getting things done, how incredible the interruption of a proper, home-cooked lunch can be. The world of working away from home will be a strange thing when I go back to it, I tell you. Sandwiches? Eh, wot? Pret a Manger?!? Nah, guv, not fer me thanks. I've got my hot, straight-from-the-cooker Lamb Pilaff. And that, girls and boys, is what I am going to talk to you about today.
It's going to be a bit of a 'cobbled together' recipe, as is my way - as it was all a bit handful of this, dash of that, etc etc. But 'twas too scrumptious not to share.
Ingredients
1 clove garlic, chopped
1 small onion, diced
1-2 small sticks celery, finely diced
2 cupfuls long-grain rice
1 lamb stock cube
spices: cinnamon, 2-3 cloves
handful each of almonds or cashew nuts, sultanas/raisins, chopped apricots
1/2 small onion, sliced thinly
2-3 handfuls of roughly chopped leftover lamb (from a Sunday lunch)
Method
1. Sweat garlic, onions and celery in a pan with some butter and olive oil, when golden add the rice and stir, covering the rice grains.
2. Crumble in the lamb stock, and add enough water to just cover the rice grains. Stir, and continue to stir until most liquid is absorbed. The rice should be a dark yellow colour (as a result of the lamb stock).
3. Add in the spices, dried fruit and nuts and chopped cooked lamb, stirring in, and allowing most of the remaining liquid to cook off.
4. Serve with chopped parsley scattered.
Really good warming lunch, mmm, making my tum rumble as I write in fact.
Showing posts with label economic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label economic. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Drumroll.....
I am sure those reading are just desperate, DESPERATE to know exactly how much I ended up spending over the five days of My So-Frugal Life.
Who am I to deny you the details?
I was quite interested myself, but I should add the caveat which is that, in the interest of really truly using up the fridge's fairly plentiful contents, I have had a helping hand in the old ingredients department. It does put a slight skew on the results.
But, in terms of actual, bought items from the shopping list:
Butternut Squash £1.67
Parsley £0.99
Leeks £1.59
Whole Chicken £2.46 (I apparently lied previously)
6 Sausages £2.59
Little Gem lettuce £0.88
6 eggs £1.52
carrots £0.49
1 kidney £0.45
_____
Total: £12.64
Actually, even I'm surprised by how piddly that amount is, which is why it's necessary to state that I already had a lot of the basics: garlic, onions, rice, salt, pepper, potatoes, a lot of vegetables, any storecupboard items.
I'd be interested in carrying out the experiment from a real starting point which, hopefully, if I'm ever able to restart my existence away from the parental abode, I'll get a chance to explore. I will give some details of 'stocking up your storecupboard with staples' and where to find cheapy cheapies. There's no denying it, I've turned into a frugal food fiend!
Who am I to deny you the details?
I was quite interested myself, but I should add the caveat which is that, in the interest of really truly using up the fridge's fairly plentiful contents, I have had a helping hand in the old ingredients department. It does put a slight skew on the results.
But, in terms of actual, bought items from the shopping list:
Butternut Squash £1.67
Parsley £0.99
Leeks £1.59
Whole Chicken £2.46 (I apparently lied previously)
6 Sausages £2.59
Little Gem lettuce £0.88
6 eggs £1.52
carrots £0.49
1 kidney £0.45
_____
Total: £12.64
Actually, even I'm surprised by how piddly that amount is, which is why it's necessary to state that I already had a lot of the basics: garlic, onions, rice, salt, pepper, potatoes, a lot of vegetables, any storecupboard items.
I'd be interested in carrying out the experiment from a real starting point which, hopefully, if I'm ever able to restart my existence away from the parental abode, I'll get a chance to explore. I will give some details of 'stocking up your storecupboard with staples' and where to find cheapy cheapies. There's no denying it, I've turned into a frugal food fiend!
Frugal Fare Challenge Day 5: Wednesday
Nearly at the end of the frugal five days...and for interest's sake (more my own than anyone else's) I'm going to have a little tot up session to see exactly how much I spent. That will follow, but for now, I've still got one last day that I've not penned up. Am very behind the times!
Since my kidney fetish started, I've been flipping through Delia and several other cookbooks to see what other ways there are of cooking them, and I found one rather intriguing recipe that looked very cheap and easy, and oh-so-World War Two. It had to be done.
By now, my butcher guffaws slightly every time I open the door, and makes references to my offal obsession. What can I say, I have a reputation to upkeep! Although most girls I talk to are a little wimpy about the stuff, I've been getting into animated discussions with the builders who are in, who apparently 'love a bit of steak and kidney pie/liver cooked with onions'. Maybe I should worry about my manly taste in meat, but I personally think it connotes an open mind, and an economic one too!
And so, to cook...
Lunch: Kidneys baked in Potatoes
1 Serving
Ingredients:
1 large potato, scrubbed; salt and pepper; knob of butter; 1 kidney; 1 tspn dijon mustard/mustard powder; 1 rasher bacon
Method:
Scrub and dry the potato, and rub salt into its skin. Bake in teh oven at 220C for about an hour or until it feels soft when pinched. Cut a cap off the potatoe and scoop out some of the inside. Skin the kidney and rub in salt, pepper and a little mustard. Roll it in a rasher of bacon and put in the potato case. Wrap the potato in foil with a scrap of butter and bake for an hour longer. The kidney gravy is soaked up by the potato - which, if you like kidneys, is scrumptious!
Serve with a lovely crisp salad and sharp dressing.
Dinner: Pasta Puttanesca
That was it, I was pretty much at the end of my weekly shopping supply and so the time had come for a truly store-cupboard only meal. I'm a bit obsessed with the 'store-cupboard' meal. I'm not sure why - I think it's something to do with the creativity and innovation behind it. Or maybe it's just the stingy so-n-so which hides deep within me. Whatever the reason, pasta puttanesca is without a shadow of a doubt a beautiful example of the ultimate SCM. Most seasoned chefs are well aware of the dish, but for those who aren't, a little history. Pasta puttanesca is a powerful, punchy pasta dish made with most ingredients which fussy eaters abhor - ie. all the seriously flavoured ones - capers, olives and anchovies. Yikes! As a result, this isn't a dish for the wimps. Its name literally translates as 'whore's spaghetti', a nod to the gutsy, raucous and unapologetic flavours frolicking around the dish. I blimmin' love it.
Ingredients:
Serves 2
Storecupboard - a glug of olive oil; 1 clove garlic, chopped; 1 tin chopped tomatoes; 2 tablespoons capers; a handful of tinned black olives, roughly chopped; 3-4 anchovy fillets, drained of oil; salt/pepper; whatever pasta you fancy (I like linguine)
Method:
Start to cook the pasta as you cook the sauce, in a large saucepan of boiling water.
On a low heat, fry the garlic in the olive oil until golden, then add in the tin of tomatoes. Stir and cook for a few moments, and then add in the rest of your storecupboard ingredients. Simmer on a low heat for about 15 minutes, by which stage the anchovies will have melted into the sauce barely to be seen again, leaving only a salty, savoury hint of their existence.
Drain the pasta and pour over the sauce.
Since my kidney fetish started, I've been flipping through Delia and several other cookbooks to see what other ways there are of cooking them, and I found one rather intriguing recipe that looked very cheap and easy, and oh-so-World War Two. It had to be done.
By now, my butcher guffaws slightly every time I open the door, and makes references to my offal obsession. What can I say, I have a reputation to upkeep! Although most girls I talk to are a little wimpy about the stuff, I've been getting into animated discussions with the builders who are in, who apparently 'love a bit of steak and kidney pie/liver cooked with onions'. Maybe I should worry about my manly taste in meat, but I personally think it connotes an open mind, and an economic one too!
And so, to cook...
Lunch: Kidneys baked in Potatoes
1 Serving
Ingredients:
1 large potato, scrubbed; salt and pepper; knob of butter; 1 kidney; 1 tspn dijon mustard/mustard powder; 1 rasher bacon
Method:
Scrub and dry the potato, and rub salt into its skin. Bake in teh oven at 220C for about an hour or until it feels soft when pinched. Cut a cap off the potatoe and scoop out some of the inside. Skin the kidney and rub in salt, pepper and a little mustard. Roll it in a rasher of bacon and put in the potato case. Wrap the potato in foil with a scrap of butter and bake for an hour longer. The kidney gravy is soaked up by the potato - which, if you like kidneys, is scrumptious!
Serve with a lovely crisp salad and sharp dressing.
Dinner: Pasta Puttanesca
That was it, I was pretty much at the end of my weekly shopping supply and so the time had come for a truly store-cupboard only meal. I'm a bit obsessed with the 'store-cupboard' meal. I'm not sure why - I think it's something to do with the creativity and innovation behind it. Or maybe it's just the stingy so-n-so which hides deep within me. Whatever the reason, pasta puttanesca is without a shadow of a doubt a beautiful example of the ultimate SCM. Most seasoned chefs are well aware of the dish, but for those who aren't, a little history. Pasta puttanesca is a powerful, punchy pasta dish made with most ingredients which fussy eaters abhor - ie. all the seriously flavoured ones - capers, olives and anchovies. Yikes! As a result, this isn't a dish for the wimps. Its name literally translates as 'whore's spaghetti', a nod to the gutsy, raucous and unapologetic flavours frolicking around the dish. I blimmin' love it.
Ingredients:
Serves 2
Storecupboard - a glug of olive oil; 1 clove garlic, chopped; 1 tin chopped tomatoes; 2 tablespoons capers; a handful of tinned black olives, roughly chopped; 3-4 anchovy fillets, drained of oil; salt/pepper; whatever pasta you fancy (I like linguine)
Method:
Start to cook the pasta as you cook the sauce, in a large saucepan of boiling water.
On a low heat, fry the garlic in the olive oil until golden, then add in the tin of tomatoes. Stir and cook for a few moments, and then add in the rest of your storecupboard ingredients. Simmer on a low heat for about 15 minutes, by which stage the anchovies will have melted into the sauce barely to be seen again, leaving only a salty, savoury hint of their existence.
Drain the pasta and pour over the sauce.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Frugal Fare Challenge Day 4: Tuesday
By the fourth day of my challenge, I had started to wear out the occupants of my fridge. They weren't looking quite as plentiful, and it was time for me to start pulling in the storecupboard staples to throw into the mix, and bulk out what few meat and veg items I had left. I was still on a mean mission to make the most of anything I could though, which forced me to be slightly more creative than I think I really have licence to be in the food department!
Lunch: Roasted Butternut Squash & Carrot Risotto
This is what I mean by 'creative' really...I think essentially there is something slightly wrong about carrots in risotto...I'm not even really sure why but it just doesn't sit well with me - probably the texture or the fact that I know that in Italy I've never ever seen carrots in risotto. Ne'ertheless, I had a bundle of these cute baby chantenay carrots who were just a-beggin' to be cooked up, and who was I to argue with the little tykes? After all, I was only serving myself...it was time to experiment. See how they panned out below.
Ingredients:
Shopping cart: Half a butternut squash, chopped; 3-4 thin slices bacon
Store Cupboard: 1 cup Risotto rice; 1 litre stock; handful whole chantenay carrots, washed & top/tailed; 2 sticks celery, diced; 1 onion, diced; 1 garlic, chopped; 1 glass white wine
Method
Spread the roughly diced butternut squash and the carrots over a baking tray covered in foil (option to lay some thin slices of bacon over the top of the veg, which will crisp up and give the veg a delicious salted flavour) drizzle some olive oil over the top and season with salt and pepper, then roast in the oven for 30-40 minutes until soft. Meanwhile, in a wide flat saucepan melt a small lump of butter over a gentle heat and add a glug of olive oil, allow to heat through and then add the garlic until it sizzles, then add the onion and celery, stir and allow to soften slightly. Add the cupful of risotto rice, stir to coat the rice with the oil, so the rice grains go translucent; pour in a cup of wine which will puff up in a glorious waft of alcohol, stir and add a pinch of salt and season with pepper, and then start to add the stock liquid one ladleful at a time, stirring each until absorbed fully into the rice. To use the entirety of the stock liquid should take about 20 minutes, all the while stirring the liquid in, until the rice becomes a creamy mass and can absorb no more stock. Take the pan off the heat.
By this time the squash and carrots should be roasted to a tender, slightly sticky stage. Remove the by now crisped bacon, and chop roughly. The veg can be further chopped or added into the risotto mixture as is. Gently stir the squash and carrots into the risotto, serve onto warmed plates, and sprinkle the chopped bacon over each separate serving.
This would be ideal with some deep fried, crumbly sage leaves - sadly my cupboard didn't stock them!
Dinner: Baked Eggs
By dinner time I seemed to be consumed with this retro 70s desire for Baked Eggs.
I know - who eats those now?! Well, apparently I do. In fact, I've been dying to make them ever since I returned home and saw a plethora of little ramekins sitting unloved in one of our kitchen cupboards. And, as we've already established (and you haven't even seen Wednesday's meals yet), I have no qualms in going a little 'old-fashioned' in my eating. I would even go as far as to say, in these purse-tightened times, we all have a lot to learn from old-time cooks. In these days of plastic-covered apples, and styrofoam boxes, and 'ah-just-throw-it-away-and-buy-a-new-one' attitudes, the word frugal hasn't really been touted around a lot lately. But hark back to the 70s (I finally received my copy of The Pauper's Cookbook by Jocasta Innes - see below) or even as far as the war, and there were women stretching every single ingredient they were lucky enough to get their hands on. I've always been a little old-fashioned, me. You're just lucky I'm not posting pictures of me in my oh-so-flattering 80s cashmere cardie that I've been passed on by my mum. Though I'll confess that this isn't really for the fashion statement so much as the fact that this house is blimmin' freezin', with great gales screeching around each corner and biting at my poor wee ankles. Fashion just ain't a great consideration in the country!
'The Pauper's Cookbook' by Jocasta Innes, revamp of 1970s classic. Likely to feature a great deal in posts henceforth.
Anyway, enough waffle and excuses about my Baked Eggs. Let me just tell you now that this is a beautiful, versatile, simple little dinner, which doesn't lay heavy on your tum, but delivers a solid whack of protein and nutrients. Try it and see!
Ingredients:
2 Eggs; a few snippets of any of the following - bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms, herbs, cheese, ham, in fact anything you'd add to an omelette; salt/pepper
Butter a small ramekin dish, and pop in your finely chopped ingredients (if using bacon you should fry it up first). This time round I was using mushrooms and tomatoes. Season well. Pop the ramekin in the middle of a high-edged baking tray, and then pour hot water in until it fills the tray/reaches about an inch up the side of the ramekin dish. Then pop all of this in the oven...I'm still figuring out temperatures as I'm using an Aga, so this would be about 220C. Allow to cook for 10 minutes or so - the mushrooms/tomatoes will steam slightly.
After the 10 minutes, bring the tray out - being very careful of the hot water - and crack the two eggs carefully into the ramekin. Season well again, put a piece of foil loosely over the top to protect from burning, and return to the oven to cook for a further 10 minutes or so, until the egg is set. I served mine with some buttered brown bread, just to be reeeally retro.
*Warning: as soon as you've finished, put the ramekin in to soak, otherwise you will be scraping egg bits off for days to come*
Lunch: Roasted Butternut Squash & Carrot Risotto
This is what I mean by 'creative' really...I think essentially there is something slightly wrong about carrots in risotto...I'm not even really sure why but it just doesn't sit well with me - probably the texture or the fact that I know that in Italy I've never ever seen carrots in risotto. Ne'ertheless, I had a bundle of these cute baby chantenay carrots who were just a-beggin' to be cooked up, and who was I to argue with the little tykes? After all, I was only serving myself...it was time to experiment. See how they panned out below.
Ingredients:
Shopping cart: Half a butternut squash, chopped; 3-4 thin slices bacon
Store Cupboard: 1 cup Risotto rice; 1 litre stock; handful whole chantenay carrots, washed & top/tailed; 2 sticks celery, diced; 1 onion, diced; 1 garlic, chopped; 1 glass white wine
Method
Spread the roughly diced butternut squash and the carrots over a baking tray covered in foil (option to lay some thin slices of bacon over the top of the veg, which will crisp up and give the veg a delicious salted flavour) drizzle some olive oil over the top and season with salt and pepper, then roast in the oven for 30-40 minutes until soft. Meanwhile, in a wide flat saucepan melt a small lump of butter over a gentle heat and add a glug of olive oil, allow to heat through and then add the garlic until it sizzles, then add the onion and celery, stir and allow to soften slightly. Add the cupful of risotto rice, stir to coat the rice with the oil, so the rice grains go translucent; pour in a cup of wine which will puff up in a glorious waft of alcohol, stir and add a pinch of salt and season with pepper, and then start to add the stock liquid one ladleful at a time, stirring each until absorbed fully into the rice. To use the entirety of the stock liquid should take about 20 minutes, all the while stirring the liquid in, until the rice becomes a creamy mass and can absorb no more stock. Take the pan off the heat.
By this time the squash and carrots should be roasted to a tender, slightly sticky stage. Remove the by now crisped bacon, and chop roughly. The veg can be further chopped or added into the risotto mixture as is. Gently stir the squash and carrots into the risotto, serve onto warmed plates, and sprinkle the chopped bacon over each separate serving.
This would be ideal with some deep fried, crumbly sage leaves - sadly my cupboard didn't stock them!
Dinner: Baked Eggs
By dinner time I seemed to be consumed with this retro 70s desire for Baked Eggs.
I know - who eats those now?! Well, apparently I do. In fact, I've been dying to make them ever since I returned home and saw a plethora of little ramekins sitting unloved in one of our kitchen cupboards. And, as we've already established (and you haven't even seen Wednesday's meals yet), I have no qualms in going a little 'old-fashioned' in my eating. I would even go as far as to say, in these purse-tightened times, we all have a lot to learn from old-time cooks. In these days of plastic-covered apples, and styrofoam boxes, and 'ah-just-throw-it-away-and-buy-a-new-one' attitudes, the word frugal hasn't really been touted around a lot lately. But hark back to the 70s (I finally received my copy of The Pauper's Cookbook by Jocasta Innes - see below) or even as far as the war, and there were women stretching every single ingredient they were lucky enough to get their hands on. I've always been a little old-fashioned, me. You're just lucky I'm not posting pictures of me in my oh-so-flattering 80s cashmere cardie that I've been passed on by my mum. Though I'll confess that this isn't really for the fashion statement so much as the fact that this house is blimmin' freezin', with great gales screeching around each corner and biting at my poor wee ankles. Fashion just ain't a great consideration in the country!
'The Pauper's Cookbook' by Jocasta Innes, revamp of 1970s classic. Likely to feature a great deal in posts henceforth.
Anyway, enough waffle and excuses about my Baked Eggs. Let me just tell you now that this is a beautiful, versatile, simple little dinner, which doesn't lay heavy on your tum, but delivers a solid whack of protein and nutrients. Try it and see!
Ingredients:
2 Eggs; a few snippets of any of the following - bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms, herbs, cheese, ham, in fact anything you'd add to an omelette; salt/pepper
Butter a small ramekin dish, and pop in your finely chopped ingredients (if using bacon you should fry it up first). This time round I was using mushrooms and tomatoes. Season well. Pop the ramekin in the middle of a high-edged baking tray, and then pour hot water in until it fills the tray/reaches about an inch up the side of the ramekin dish. Then pop all of this in the oven...I'm still figuring out temperatures as I'm using an Aga, so this would be about 220C. Allow to cook for 10 minutes or so - the mushrooms/tomatoes will steam slightly.
After the 10 minutes, bring the tray out - being very careful of the hot water - and crack the two eggs carefully into the ramekin. Season well again, put a piece of foil loosely over the top to protect from burning, and return to the oven to cook for a further 10 minutes or so, until the egg is set. I served mine with some buttered brown bread, just to be reeeally retro.
*Warning: as soon as you've finished, put the ramekin in to soak, otherwise you will be scraping egg bits off for days to come*
Monday, November 17, 2008
Frugal Fare Challenge Day 3: Monday
Today has been very tough.
I've found out that one of the jobs which I was still holding out slight hope on had gone to another person as a result of a bit of a miscommunication between the HR lady, the Directors and the recruitment consultant. I made half a dozen furth
er new/continued feelers into the world of jobs and just received even more 'there's just not many roles at the moment'. I'm home alone, and for a whole hour I was in a bit of a slump.
So what's the best thing to do?! Cook some comfort food is what! I cheered myself up and took my mind off things by chopping leeks, sweating onions, and skimming chicken stock. It's an old friend coming to the rescue, the one dish which has supported me through thick and thin, and which never fails to comfort me with just one spoonful - I've ranted about it before, but the time has finally come for me to forsake it to cyberspace: Ma Pea's famous Chicken Soup.
Here is my hug in a bowl:
Leftovers: a couple of generous handfuls of cooked cold chicken, roughly chopped/pulled apart; 1.5litres of homemade chicken stock (see here for previous recipe)
From the fridge/veg bowl: 1 clove garlic, chopped; 1 onion, diced; 2 sticks celery, diced; 2 carrots, diced; half a leek, diced; salt, pepper; generous handful parsley, chopped coarsely
Method:
In a flat soup saucepan heat some olive oil and add the garlic. When garlic wafts are a-tantalising, add the onion and stir until coated in the oil and frying gently. Add the celery, carrot and leek and stir, covering the pan with a lid to allow to sweat for about five minutes until softened slightly. Ladle in the chicken stock, season and simmer gently for about 20 minutes, until the vegetables are tender. Keep an eye on them so that they don't overcook and lose their vibrant colour. Taste - the soup should be sumptuous and packed full of flavour, but season if it needs a little more pizzazz. Stir in the chopped chicken and the parsley, and heat through for 3-5 minutes until the soup (and the chicken) are piping hot. Serve with more iron-packed parsley.
Yet another slightly blurry photo from moi - I can't seem to figure out this fancy schmancy digital camera works....
I've found out that one of the jobs which I was still holding out slight hope on had gone to another person as a result of a bit of a miscommunication between the HR lady, the Directors and the recruitment consultant. I made half a dozen furth
er new/continued feelers into the world of jobs and just received even more 'there's just not many roles at the moment'. I'm home alone, and for a whole hour I was in a bit of a slump.
So what's the best thing to do?! Cook some comfort food is what! I cheered myself up and took my mind off things by chopping leeks, sweating onions, and skimming chicken stock. It's an old friend coming to the rescue, the one dish which has supported me through thick and thin, and which never fails to comfort me with just one spoonful - I've ranted about it before, but the time has finally come for me to forsake it to cyberspace: Ma Pea's famous Chicken Soup.
Here is my hug in a bowl:
Leftovers: a couple of generous handfuls of cooked cold chicken, roughly chopped/pulled apart; 1.5litres of homemade chicken stock (see here for previous recipe)
From the fridge/veg bowl: 1 clove garlic, chopped; 1 onion, diced; 2 sticks celery, diced; 2 carrots, diced; half a leek, diced; salt, pepper; generous handful parsley, chopped coarsely
Method:
In a flat soup saucepan heat some olive oil and add the garlic. When garlic wafts are a-tantalising, add the onion and stir until coated in the oil and frying gently. Add the celery, carrot and leek and stir, covering the pan with a lid to allow to sweat for about five minutes until softened slightly. Ladle in the chicken stock, season and simmer gently for about 20 minutes, until the vegetables are tender. Keep an eye on them so that they don't overcook and lose their vibrant colour. Taste - the soup should be sumptuous and packed full of flavour, but season if it needs a little more pizzazz. Stir in the chopped chicken and the parsley, and heat through for 3-5 minutes until the soup (and the chicken) are piping hot. Serve with more iron-packed parsley.
Yet another slightly blurry photo from moi - I can't seem to figure out this fancy schmancy digital camera works....The lunch was a success: distracting me from jobsearch woes, living up to my mantra of maintaing morale through nutrition, and resigning myself to the fact that without Ma Pea around to deliver a motherly sympathy hug, chicken soup was the next best thing. Not that I'm saying she's like a big bowl of hot stock, but...
Dinner: Sausages with second Bubble & Squeak
I confess that I'm finding it slightly tricky to balance the 'variety' and keeping things interesting, with the frankly overwhelming need I feel to make the most of leftovers - waste not want not, as my granddad said to me when I was little. So rather than beat myself up about this, I really am focussing on the frugal/economic meals. Hence an almost exact repeat of yesterday's lunch. With peas instead of beetroot. Hey - it was the perfect comfort food.
Dinner: Sausages with second Bubble & Squeak
I confess that I'm finding it slightly tricky to balance the 'variety' and keeping things interesting, with the frankly overwhelming need I feel to make the most of leftovers - waste not want not, as my granddad said to me when I was little. So rather than beat myself up about this, I really am focussing on the frugal/economic meals. Hence an almost exact repeat of yesterday's lunch. With peas instead of beetroot. Hey - it was the perfect comfort food.
Frugal Fare Challenge Day 2: Sunday
Sunday was an unashamed 'let's use leftovers' day. My challenge continued.
Breakfast (storecupboard): a little muesli; scrambled eggs on toast with roast tomatoes.
Item from weekly shop: 2 eggs
Lunch: Sausages with Bubble & Squeak and Beetroot
I cooked up some sausages I'd bought - not too kooky - and then I remembered that I had some leftover mash potato in the fridge. Out it came, to be made into a curiously successful take on Bubble & Squeak, but rather than using cabbage I used...cauliflower. Today I may well have entered into the realms of using-up-food-and-creating-dishes-that-only-I-would-eat, but only others can judge that...! I served it with the last remaining beetroot to polish it off.
Item from weekly shop: sausages; Fridge/Storecupboard: all other
To make Bubble & Squeak - both my own rather eccentric version and the usual with cabbage:
A small bowlful of cold, leftover mashed potato
A dollop of butter
Salt & Pepper
a handful of either chopped, sliced cabbage or several florets of cauliflower
Seasoned flour
Oil to fry
Plunge the cabbage/cauliflower into boiling water and boil for 6-8 minutes until tender. Drain and leave to cool slightly.
In a bowl, beat up the potato with the butter, and season generously. Tip the cab/caul into the potato mixture, and stir in. Take a generous handful of potato mixture out of the bowl and with your hands form it into a patty shape, dipping the patty into your seasoned flour mixture.
Heat some oil in a small frying pan and when hot drop your potato patty into the mixture. Cook on both sides (about 3-4 minutes) until golden. Very World War II.
I'd love to say I took a glorious photo of the above, but sadly twas not meant to be and my camera just wouldn't do it justice. I think it might take better photography skills than mine to render sausages appetising looking...so you'll just have to imagine a colourful, vibrant dish!
Dinner: A different version of yesterday's Chicken Pilaff
I softened half a leek gently for about ten minutes before adding in the remains of my pilaff from yesterday, and chopping another generous handful of parsley to pack it full of iron. Delicious, economic and lots of my daily dose of vegetables. A success in my book!
Breakfast (storecupboard): a little muesli; scrambled eggs on toast with roast tomatoes.
Item from weekly shop: 2 eggs
Lunch: Sausages with Bubble & Squeak and Beetroot
I cooked up some sausages I'd bought - not too kooky - and then I remembered that I had some leftover mash potato in the fridge. Out it came, to be made into a curiously successful take on Bubble & Squeak, but rather than using cabbage I used...cauliflower. Today I may well have entered into the realms of using-up-food-and-creating-dishes-that-only-I-would-eat, but only others can judge that...! I served it with the last remaining beetroot to polish it off.
Item from weekly shop: sausages; Fridge/Storecupboard: all other
To make Bubble & Squeak - both my own rather eccentric version and the usual with cabbage:
A small bowlful of cold, leftover mashed potato
A dollop of butter
Salt & Pepper
a handful of either chopped, sliced cabbage or several florets of cauliflower
Seasoned flour
Oil to fry
Plunge the cabbage/cauliflower into boiling water and boil for 6-8 minutes until tender. Drain and leave to cool slightly.
In a bowl, beat up the potato with the butter, and season generously. Tip the cab/caul into the potato mixture, and stir in. Take a generous handful of potato mixture out of the bowl and with your hands form it into a patty shape, dipping the patty into your seasoned flour mixture.
Heat some oil in a small frying pan and when hot drop your potato patty into the mixture. Cook on both sides (about 3-4 minutes) until golden. Very World War II.
I'd love to say I took a glorious photo of the above, but sadly twas not meant to be and my camera just wouldn't do it justice. I think it might take better photography skills than mine to render sausages appetising looking...so you'll just have to imagine a colourful, vibrant dish!
Dinner: A different version of yesterday's Chicken Pilaff
I softened half a leek gently for about ten minutes before adding in the remains of my pilaff from yesterday, and chopping another generous handful of parsley to pack it full of iron. Delicious, economic and lots of my daily dose of vegetables. A success in my book!
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Frugal Fare Challenge Day 1: Saturday
Ready, set, and go...the challenge begins.
Breakfast: storecupboard muesli and some blackberries from fridge leftovers.
Lunch: Roast Chicken with baby courgettes, baby carrots and beetroot.
I'm happy to say that the veg were all participants from the fridge, eager to get involved and, most importantly, to get used. The meal proved a very colourful plateful, alongside my highly useful, very simple Roast Chicken. I'm not what you'd call a fancy, schmancy cook - I'm still just learning. And a chicken is, to me, one of the ultimate fares which can stretch 62 different ways. Forget credit cards, chickens are my flexible friends!
Requirements:
1 chicken - mine wasn't fancy, and I'm ashamed to say it wasn't organic either, so £2.75 it was.
Glug of olive oil, 2 cloves garlic chopped, a dollop of butter, salt and pepper
Lay the chicken breast up in a high-sided roasting tray, cut away the excess skin at its neck and bottom, pop a lemon up its backsie, smear some butter all over its chest, and down into the joints of the legs/wings. Scatter the chopped garlic over, glug the olive oil across, and whack in the oven (I'm afraid to say I use an Aga, so this just means 'top oven') for 20 minutes at high heat, till the fat is bubbling and getting talkative, and the skin is lightly golden. Baste the breast and legs with the hot fat, so that the chicken glistens tastily.
Then pop some foil across the top for protection, and put back in the oven for an hour at a slightly lower heat. Baste from time to time to keep the lovely juices soaking into the chicken. The chicken is done when you pull the leg away from the body and it is no longer pink, or if you stick a knife into the leg joint and the juices run clear.
Mademoiselle la Poule, in all her glistening glory. She was a beaut. Shame about the photographer. Hopefully I will start to improve...
(My) Gravy: remove the chicken from the roasting pan and onto a carving tray, and pop the tray back onto a heat ring. Scrape all the bits into the tray, and start to heat the fat until it bubbles. Add a teaspoon of flour so that the gravy thickens, and stir vigorously to mix in. Add a teaspoon of gravy granules for colouring, and season with some salt and pepper. Then slowly add in some of the vegetable juices to bulk up the gravy. I never end up with smooth gravy, but I loathe it gloopy, so you will have to sieve out the bits, but will have a lovely juicy sauce to top your meat and veg with.
I then quickly got to work on pulling the meat off the chicken, and sending it off to the fridge packed up in foil, ready and waiting for me to conjure up some further delight with it. It would not have to wait long...
The bones were made into a lovely, scrumptious chicken stock - all the bones and the carcass went into a large saucepan, along with a whole carrot, a couple of celery sticks, the top half of a leek, a peeled, halved onion, a peeled garlic clove, 8 peppercorns, a bay leaf and some parsley stalks, with a couple of litres of water to fill and several generous pinches of salt. About an hour of bubbling later, and I had my stock! It was dutifully drained of its by now rather sorry looking occupants (oh such use and abuse!), resulting in a tasty, glisteningly perfect, and highly useful stock. The champion of frugality methinks.
Dinner: Chicken Pilaff
There is something rather retro and 70s sounding about a pilaff. Am I the only one who thinks this? But it is such a simple storecupboard dish, that can be rustled up with a variety of different ingredients, and is perfect for me to hit the 'waste not, want not' objective. So it seems a great shame for me (or anyone) to sneer, just because it sounds old fashioned.
Leftovers: a generous handful of cold chicken roughly chopped - several ladles of chicken stock
The Fruit&Veg bowl/The Fridge: a clove garlic (chopped), an onion (diced), 2 sticks celery (diced), 1 small green pepper (diced), a large handful of baby tomatoes (halved), generous handful of chopped parsley
The Storecupboard: some fastcook long grain rice of a brand I shan't mention
Method:
In a shallow saucepan, gently sweat the garlic, onion, celery and pepper in a small amount of butter and oil. Once golden, add the tomatoes (add them too early and they will just disappear and go terribly mushy), and then add a cupful of the rice. Stir to mix and to coat the rice grains in some of the fat, and then add a two or three ladlefuls of the boiling stock. Rather like a risotto, only the pilaff will not become a creamy mass, but will retain its ricey origins. Now leave to simmer for as long as your rice packet tells you (mine was 10 minutes). Do not stir and fuss around, as this breaks up the rice grains and results in a big old mess. Should you notice that the liquid is becoming rather sparse, simply add another ladleful. The rice should, after the recommended period of time, have absorbed up the liquid, and be cooked whilst still retaining bite. Stir in your chicken and your parsley and heat the chicken for a few minutes, until hot through. Scatter with parsley and serve as is.
My picture does not nearly do the tastiness justice, but you will fast become used to this. I repeat: I am not a photographer, I am not a photographer. Maybe I'd do better if I just drew the food!
Day 1 - £2.75 actually spent, plus a smidgen of 'cheat items'. At the end of the week I will tot up what I actually spent where, to give you an accurate idea.
Breakfast: storecupboard muesli and some blackberries from fridge leftovers.
Lunch: Roast Chicken with baby courgettes, baby carrots and beetroot.
I'm happy to say that the veg were all participants from the fridge, eager to get involved and, most importantly, to get used. The meal proved a very colourful plateful, alongside my highly useful, very simple Roast Chicken. I'm not what you'd call a fancy, schmancy cook - I'm still just learning. And a chicken is, to me, one of the ultimate fares which can stretch 62 different ways. Forget credit cards, chickens are my flexible friends!
Requirements:
1 chicken - mine wasn't fancy, and I'm ashamed to say it wasn't organic either, so £2.75 it was.
Glug of olive oil, 2 cloves garlic chopped, a dollop of butter, salt and pepper
Lay the chicken breast up in a high-sided roasting tray, cut away the excess skin at its neck and bottom, pop a lemon up its backsie, smear some butter all over its chest, and down into the joints of the legs/wings. Scatter the chopped garlic over, glug the olive oil across, and whack in the oven (I'm afraid to say I use an Aga, so this just means 'top oven') for 20 minutes at high heat, till the fat is bubbling and getting talkative, and the skin is lightly golden. Baste the breast and legs with the hot fat, so that the chicken glistens tastily.
Then pop some foil across the top for protection, and put back in the oven for an hour at a slightly lower heat. Baste from time to time to keep the lovely juices soaking into the chicken. The chicken is done when you pull the leg away from the body and it is no longer pink, or if you stick a knife into the leg joint and the juices run clear.
Mademoiselle la Poule, in all her glistening glory. She was a beaut. Shame about the photographer. Hopefully I will start to improve...
(My) Gravy: remove the chicken from the roasting pan and onto a carving tray, and pop the tray back onto a heat ring. Scrape all the bits into the tray, and start to heat the fat until it bubbles. Add a teaspoon of flour so that the gravy thickens, and stir vigorously to mix in. Add a teaspoon of gravy granules for colouring, and season with some salt and pepper. Then slowly add in some of the vegetable juices to bulk up the gravy. I never end up with smooth gravy, but I loathe it gloopy, so you will have to sieve out the bits, but will have a lovely juicy sauce to top your meat and veg with.
I then quickly got to work on pulling the meat off the chicken, and sending it off to the fridge packed up in foil, ready and waiting for me to conjure up some further delight with it. It would not have to wait long...
The bones were made into a lovely, scrumptious chicken stock - all the bones and the carcass went into a large saucepan, along with a whole carrot, a couple of celery sticks, the top half of a leek, a peeled, halved onion, a peeled garlic clove, 8 peppercorns, a bay leaf and some parsley stalks, with a couple of litres of water to fill and several generous pinches of salt. About an hour of bubbling later, and I had my stock! It was dutifully drained of its by now rather sorry looking occupants (oh such use and abuse!), resulting in a tasty, glisteningly perfect, and highly useful stock. The champion of frugality methinks.
Dinner: Chicken Pilaff
There is something rather retro and 70s sounding about a pilaff. Am I the only one who thinks this? But it is such a simple storecupboard dish, that can be rustled up with a variety of different ingredients, and is perfect for me to hit the 'waste not, want not' objective. So it seems a great shame for me (or anyone) to sneer, just because it sounds old fashioned.
Leftovers: a generous handful of cold chicken roughly chopped - several ladles of chicken stock
The Fruit&Veg bowl/The Fridge: a clove garlic (chopped), an onion (diced), 2 sticks celery (diced), 1 small green pepper (diced), a large handful of baby tomatoes (halved), generous handful of chopped parsley
The Storecupboard: some fastcook long grain rice of a brand I shan't mention
Method:
In a shallow saucepan, gently sweat the garlic, onion, celery and pepper in a small amount of butter and oil. Once golden, add the tomatoes (add them too early and they will just disappear and go terribly mushy), and then add a cupful of the rice. Stir to mix and to coat the rice grains in some of the fat, and then add a two or three ladlefuls of the boiling stock. Rather like a risotto, only the pilaff will not become a creamy mass, but will retain its ricey origins. Now leave to simmer for as long as your rice packet tells you (mine was 10 minutes). Do not stir and fuss around, as this breaks up the rice grains and results in a big old mess. Should you notice that the liquid is becoming rather sparse, simply add another ladleful. The rice should, after the recommended period of time, have absorbed up the liquid, and be cooked whilst still retaining bite. Stir in your chicken and your parsley and heat the chicken for a few minutes, until hot through. Scatter with parsley and serve as is.
My picture does not nearly do the tastiness justice, but you will fast become used to this. I repeat: I am not a photographer, I am not a photographer. Maybe I'd do better if I just drew the food!
The Pilaff in all its retro glory - complete with apparently equally retro plate. What a perfect couple.
Day 1 - £2.75 actually spent, plus a smidgen of 'cheat items'. At the end of the week I will tot up what I actually spent where, to give you an accurate idea.
The Official New Theme/Challenge: Frugal Food
My previous post should give some enlightenment as to my personal circumstances, and why exactly I have this overwhelming obsession with frugal food. It seems like a lot (if not all) of my posts (bar the restaurant reviews, where I have been lucky enough to be taken out by a host of wonderful friends/family) have been detailing ways of getting more bangers for your buck, of stretching your ingredients just as far as they'll go, and occasionally reverting to using odd (yet delicious!) insides to get a cheap meal. Whilst I'll admit that a lot of this is due to the fact that I'm hardly what you'd call rolling in dosh at the moment, coupled with the fact that I think the theme is highly relevant in a time where people are starting to feel the financial strain of the recession, this is not the only reason I'm interested in frugal food. I'm interested because, well, I'm not by nature a wasteful person. I like the concept of simple living, of more frugality and less extravagent waste. Less materialism, more productivity. Cooking can very quickly and easily become a highly expensive past-time, unless you use your noggin. And it's this sort of brainy cooking that I like - creatively and cleverly using your ingredients to the max. BUT - the results must be tasty, not all weird and wonderful, like say kidney beans with...erm...(she racks brain trying to think of something really truly odd to mix with kidney beans)...cauliflower.
So over the next couple of weeks, as I'm left home alone in a big house, with just a big kitchen and a computer to keep me company, I am starting an official experiment. I'm going to try to feed myself healthily, nutritiously, deliciously and colourfully for under £30.00 in a week. I should warn you right at the beginning, I am going to cheat a little, as I have to go up to London at the end of the week, to remind myself what a social life is like, and to see some real, live people. I've heard rumours they're still out there.
To be slightly more exact then, this week I will be detailing my food frolics between yesterday (Saturday) and Thursday. 6 days - well counted.
There are some more conditions, and you can decide for yourselves whether you think this is just stretching things:
So over the next couple of weeks, as I'm left home alone in a big house, with just a big kitchen and a computer to keep me company, I am starting an official experiment. I'm going to try to feed myself healthily, nutritiously, deliciously and colourfully for under £30.00 in a week. I should warn you right at the beginning, I am going to cheat a little, as I have to go up to London at the end of the week, to remind myself what a social life is like, and to see some real, live people. I've heard rumours they're still out there.
To be slightly more exact then, this week I will be detailing my food frolics between yesterday (Saturday) and Thursday. 6 days - well counted.
There are some more conditions, and you can decide for yourselves whether you think this is just stretching things:
- There is a storecupboard/pantry in the kitchen, which is full of lots of lovely basics - flour, tinned tomatoes, tinned - olives, capers, pulses, pasta, rice, etc. - I intend to exploit this for all it is worth. Expect details of some 'storecupboard meals'
The Storecupboard: my first photo but I thought I would give it a shot. Not least because I am so proud at how tidy this is post a tidy-up session yesterday. Helping Ma Pea to generally get the house in order - this was a task I set my organisational skills to. I know, it's official. I AM A GEEK. (Lydia at The Perfect Pantry would be proud!) - The fridge has a friendly smattering of bits and bobs - cheese, bacon, ham, some vegetables and some cheese - left over from when Ma Pea vacated premises for her fancy holiday, and I fully intend to use these up/come up with innovative ways of getting them involved in any way shape or form. Think of it as social food, and giving them an excuse to join in the fun.
- It is necessary to bear in mind that I am based from home, and not currently juggling a job at the same time (bar all my mini creative projects, which I may start to upload details of soon, if I can figure it out), therefore breakfast, lunch AND dinner can and will be cooked and eaten at home - something which would never, ever happen when I was back in the big smoke.
- We have apple trees, and intend to use 'em. I already have my eye on a recipe by Hopie, flagged and tagged by Psychgrad at Equal Opportunity Kitchen - keep your eyes/apples peeled ('scuse the pun) for that one.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
O-mega Intake
Ok, one last wibbly wobbly entry and then I'll get back to the normal stuff, I promise.
On the hunt for more ways to get bang from my (increasingly limited) buck, I experienced a bit of a time machine moment when, standing in front of the fishmonger's counter, my beady little eyes alighted upon: Cod's Roe. Why the flashback, I hear you cry? Well, when I was a wee youngster, Ma Pea used to rustle us up Cod's Roe on toast and, yep you guessed it, I would snaffle it up. Quick and easy supper - tick, barely a penny spent - tick, packed with brain-enhancing nutrients - TICK. A match made in heaven then!
Fried Cod's Roe on Toast
Serves 2
1. Ask the poissonier (or fishman) for a generous handful of the roe
2. Drop these roe into a seasoned flour mixture, as per my previous kidney and liver recipes, and roll around until covered
3. Pop a piece of bread in the toaster and drop the floured roe into about a tablespoon of hot groundnut oil.
4. Fry gently until light golden
5. Serve on toast
A smooth, silky texture, and strong fish-taste means that this dish ain't for the faint-hearted. But for that quick and easy supper, it is perfect!
On the hunt for more ways to get bang from my (increasingly limited) buck, I experienced a bit of a time machine moment when, standing in front of the fishmonger's counter, my beady little eyes alighted upon: Cod's Roe. Why the flashback, I hear you cry? Well, when I was a wee youngster, Ma Pea used to rustle us up Cod's Roe on toast and, yep you guessed it, I would snaffle it up. Quick and easy supper - tick, barely a penny spent - tick, packed with brain-enhancing nutrients - TICK. A match made in heaven then!
Fried Cod's Roe on Toast
Serves 2
1. Ask the poissonier (or fishman) for a generous handful of the roe
2. Drop these roe into a seasoned flour mixture, as per my previous kidney and liver recipes, and roll around until covered
3. Pop a piece of bread in the toaster and drop the floured roe into about a tablespoon of hot groundnut oil.
4. Fry gently until light golden
5. Serve on toast
A smooth, silky texture, and strong fish-taste means that this dish ain't for the faint-hearted. But for that quick and easy supper, it is perfect!
Saturday, November 8, 2008
I ate (his) liver with some....ciabatta and onions???
My kidney adventures seemed to develop this alarming taste for the wobbly stuff, and within days I was searching out my next inside-y treat. Offal-shopping seemed to rouse this peculiar sense of humour in me, as I clanged open the door to my local butcher's like Billy the Kid entering a saloon, heavy boots clunking and spurs jangling (though in reality this may have been more - skipping in in my ballet pumps, short dress swishing, eyelashes batting). 'I'll have some of your liver', I growled. Happily, butchers are in (full-time) possession of my (part-time) gruesome sense of humour and this request prompted one of the butchers guffawing heartily, yelling 'of course you can luv', and then miming a slicing action to his colleagues lower back.
I reassessed: 'ok then, maybe not your liver, but what other liver do you have?'. Calves' and Lambs' is the usual choice, and if you're lucky, the butcher's. Lambs', however, comes in at a mere £3.99 a kilo, but also with the warning that it is 'a bit stronger tasting, more in your face'. Away with subtlety, give me economy good sir! So 150g of their finest Lambs' liver it was for me! 60p lunch.
I huddled over a bunch of recipe books for this one, and ended up coming up with a mixture of Nigel's and Nigella's.
Liver and onion ciabatta
Serves 1
Ingredients
150g Liver - bat your eyelashes at the butcher and ask him to slice it very thinly
2 tablespoons flour seasoned well with salt and pepper
Groundnut oil or butter to fry
1/2 an onion, thinly sliced
1 teaspoon of pomegranate molasses stirred into a cup of water (or 1 pomegranate squeezed - distinctly more messy)
A ciabatta roll, sliced lengthways
Method
Soften the onions slowly in a frying pan for about ten minutes. When nicely golden, add half of the pomegranate molasses water, and cook for a further 5-10 minutes, until the onions have fully absorbed the water and are a sumptuous, slithery mass. Remove from the frying pan onto a heated plate and cover to retain the heat. Start to toast the ciabatta.
Re-oil the pan and coat the liver with the seasoned flour, then fry briskly for about three minutes on both sides, before the liver cooks through so that it retains pinkness.
Load the toasted ciabatta up with the liver and the onions, and meanwhile deglaze the pan with the rest of the pomegranate sauce, and pour over to soak into the crusty ciabatta roll.
It was a real treat: the perfect, comforting, lunch for one on a cold and crispy late Autumn day. The soft sweetness of the liver is stopped from being overbearing by the mass of caramelised onions, and that particular tart sticky sweetness of the pomegranate sauce. I mopped up the sauce with the ciabatta and a crisp, simple chicory salad and had to rouse myself from a trance at the end of the meal.
I reassessed: 'ok then, maybe not your liver, but what other liver do you have?'. Calves' and Lambs' is the usual choice, and if you're lucky, the butcher's. Lambs', however, comes in at a mere £3.99 a kilo, but also with the warning that it is 'a bit stronger tasting, more in your face'. Away with subtlety, give me economy good sir! So 150g of their finest Lambs' liver it was for me! 60p lunch.
I huddled over a bunch of recipe books for this one, and ended up coming up with a mixture of Nigel's and Nigella's.
Liver and onion ciabatta
Serves 1
Ingredients
150g Liver - bat your eyelashes at the butcher and ask him to slice it very thinly
2 tablespoons flour seasoned well with salt and pepper
Groundnut oil or butter to fry
1/2 an onion, thinly sliced
1 teaspoon of pomegranate molasses stirred into a cup of water (or 1 pomegranate squeezed - distinctly more messy)
A ciabatta roll, sliced lengthways
Method
Soften the onions slowly in a frying pan for about ten minutes. When nicely golden, add half of the pomegranate molasses water, and cook for a further 5-10 minutes, until the onions have fully absorbed the water and are a sumptuous, slithery mass. Remove from the frying pan onto a heated plate and cover to retain the heat. Start to toast the ciabatta.
Re-oil the pan and coat the liver with the seasoned flour, then fry briskly for about three minutes on both sides, before the liver cooks through so that it retains pinkness.
Load the toasted ciabatta up with the liver and the onions, and meanwhile deglaze the pan with the rest of the pomegranate sauce, and pour over to soak into the crusty ciabatta roll.
It was a real treat: the perfect, comforting, lunch for one on a cold and crispy late Autumn day. The soft sweetness of the liver is stopped from being overbearing by the mass of caramelised onions, and that particular tart sticky sweetness of the pomegranate sauce. I mopped up the sauce with the ciabatta and a crisp, simple chicory salad and had to rouse myself from a trance at the end of the meal.
Friday, November 7, 2008
A load of old (w)offal
Cor, blimey guv'nor but I've been eating an offal lot of awful recently. I mean, erm, offal, OFFAL.
Those of a weak constitution I suggest you look away now, as I'm about to get grizzly on you.
Now, I should probably start off by telling you that I have a remarkable tendency to faint dead away at the sight or mention of blood, or indeed insides of any description. I must be one of the few people ever to attempt to donate blood and to FAIL. I failed to give an entire pint of blood in the allotted time - I was so tense that my blood omitted to flow fast enough for the requisite 15 minute maximum. Nurses across the world have had to rouse me from dazed stupors of such a description.
So it might come as a surprise that I am also, somewhat paradoxically, the sort of girl who wants, and indeed proactively seeks, to eat such (to some) grizzly innards as kidneys and liver. I'm also researching what other body parts I've yet to try. Ma Pea is eternally perplexed at how she has managed to produce an offspring who, rather than requesting sweets, manicures or undies, instead requests animals' insides.
In these penny-pinched times (yes, you've guessed it, this is another of my frugal goodies), eating the whole of the animal is not only not wasteful, but also terribly kind on your wallet. Calves' or lambs' liver and kidneys provide a very cheap and nourishing meal, jam-packed full of iron and nutrients. Some of you may find this abhorrent, but don't knock it until you've tried it! With a very particular, slightly creamy texture, it might take a little getting used to, but I think it is well worth persevering with educating your palate. It is also worth saying that, should you be funny (like I am - I know, wimp) about handling the slithery organs, ask the butcher to remove whatever needs removing, and then you needn't touch them at all. See why not below!
Inspired by an excellent article in Waitrose Food Illustrated interviewing Fergus Henderson, he of St John fame, and a vociferous advocate of 'nose to tail eating', I decided to try Ma Pea's own version of Devilled Kidneys. As Fergus says, rather considerately I think, "Once an animal has been knocked on the head, surely it's only polite to eat it all?". Well, quite.
Starting with the kidneys.
Devilled Kidneys
Serves 2
4 Lambs kidneys, skins removed and chopped into mouthfuls
2 tablespoons flour, seasoned with plenty of salt and pepper and a teaspoon of English mustard powder
Groundnut oil to fry
tsp Gravy Granules
Splash of Sherry
The Perfect Piece of Toast
Put all of your seasoned flour mixture onto an A4 sized piece of tin foil, and plop the kidneys into the middle of the mixture. Coat the kidneys by pulling the foil from either side so that they are rolled around in the mixture in the middle.
Heat the oil in a frying pan on a high heat, and lift the coated kidneys out into the frying pan, moving round in the pan until the kidneys achieve a brown crust. At this stage add your gravy granules and a small dash of water (you can at this stage add some cream and some dijon mustard if you are feeling really swish) and season generously. Once the kidneys are curled but not overcooked, serve them on your buttered toast. Deglaze the pan with a dash of sherry, and pour the decadent mixture over the kidneys and toast.
I feel rather like a squire or a count when I eat this dish - there is something naughty and decadent about it. Offally good show ol' chap. I say. Wot wot.
Those of a weak constitution I suggest you look away now, as I'm about to get grizzly on you.
Now, I should probably start off by telling you that I have a remarkable tendency to faint dead away at the sight or mention of blood, or indeed insides of any description. I must be one of the few people ever to attempt to donate blood and to FAIL. I failed to give an entire pint of blood in the allotted time - I was so tense that my blood omitted to flow fast enough for the requisite 15 minute maximum. Nurses across the world have had to rouse me from dazed stupors of such a description.
So it might come as a surprise that I am also, somewhat paradoxically, the sort of girl who wants, and indeed proactively seeks, to eat such (to some) grizzly innards as kidneys and liver. I'm also researching what other body parts I've yet to try. Ma Pea is eternally perplexed at how she has managed to produce an offspring who, rather than requesting sweets, manicures or undies, instead requests animals' insides.
In these penny-pinched times (yes, you've guessed it, this is another of my frugal goodies), eating the whole of the animal is not only not wasteful, but also terribly kind on your wallet. Calves' or lambs' liver and kidneys provide a very cheap and nourishing meal, jam-packed full of iron and nutrients. Some of you may find this abhorrent, but don't knock it until you've tried it! With a very particular, slightly creamy texture, it might take a little getting used to, but I think it is well worth persevering with educating your palate. It is also worth saying that, should you be funny (like I am - I know, wimp) about handling the slithery organs, ask the butcher to remove whatever needs removing, and then you needn't touch them at all. See why not below!
Inspired by an excellent article in Waitrose Food Illustrated interviewing Fergus Henderson, he of St John fame, and a vociferous advocate of 'nose to tail eating', I decided to try Ma Pea's own version of Devilled Kidneys. As Fergus says, rather considerately I think, "Once an animal has been knocked on the head, surely it's only polite to eat it all?". Well, quite.
Starting with the kidneys.
Devilled Kidneys
Serves 2
4 Lambs kidneys, skins removed and chopped into mouthfuls
2 tablespoons flour, seasoned with plenty of salt and pepper and a teaspoon of English mustard powder
Groundnut oil to fry
tsp Gravy Granules
Splash of Sherry
The Perfect Piece of Toast
Put all of your seasoned flour mixture onto an A4 sized piece of tin foil, and plop the kidneys into the middle of the mixture. Coat the kidneys by pulling the foil from either side so that they are rolled around in the mixture in the middle.
Heat the oil in a frying pan on a high heat, and lift the coated kidneys out into the frying pan, moving round in the pan until the kidneys achieve a brown crust. At this stage add your gravy granules and a small dash of water (you can at this stage add some cream and some dijon mustard if you are feeling really swish) and season generously. Once the kidneys are curled but not overcooked, serve them on your buttered toast. Deglaze the pan with a dash of sherry, and pour the decadent mixture over the kidneys and toast.
I feel rather like a squire or a count when I eat this dish - there is something naughty and decadent about it. Offally good show ol' chap. I say. Wot wot.
A Yeast Feast
Apologies for my title, I know it is hackneyed and old fashioned (I listened to the best show on BBC iPlayer's rerun of Radio 4 'Beanz Meanz Rhymez' comparing and contrasting copywriting and poetry writing - fascinating. Was most upset to discover that my two favourite things, silly rhymes and terrible alliteration, are officially passe. Well, of course I knew it already, but it was still devastating to hear it confirmed.)
Apologies also for my lengthy absence. Things have been busy on the job/interview front, that was until the economic situation really started to strike in earnest. So I'm having to take a more creative approach to life. But it's alright, for my writing at least - it is looking like for a while I may be returning to the Good Life, as well as possibly, possibly setting up my own business. The this time back in the country, and minimised incomings, is providing the perfect setting for me to explore a food theme that I find quite fascinating, and which, after all, may be relevant for a LOT of people out there, who are having to start to tighten the purse strings, but still need to feed themselves (and others) with less dosh. More nosh for less dosh so to speak. Oh gosh, sorry, I think the habit may be somewhat difficult to break!
So to start off what is going to be an ongoing theme, something cheap, cheerful and STRESS-RELIEVING.
Eh? Stress-relieving? Wot??
Ahhhhh, yes. Stress relieving. Take a lovely, long deep breath and say together with me:
'frreeeeeessssh breeeeadd' 'freeeeesshhhhh hoooomeemaaaade breeeeeaddddd'.
Yip. That's right. Make yourself up a generous dollop of yeasty bread dough (sadly not dough of the £££ variety, soz), and not only will you have plenty of bread for the following few days' sarnies, and toast for all those buttered soldiers you eat with your boiled egg, but you will also have a free punchbag. Any money stresses instantly relieved, 100% guarantee or your money back.*
So here it is, a simple, foolproof wholemeal bread recipe.
Ingredients:
1lb Wholemeal Flour
1/2 lb Strong White Flour
1 pkt dried yeast (you can of course use fresh yeast but I'm going to be doing this at a later date)
salt
olive oil and warm water to about 3/4-1 pint
Method:
Mix flour, yeast and salt and add about 1 pint of liquid, depending on the flour. Best to make a sloppy dough and then add more water in order to knead it. Knead roughly until smooth - about 2 minutes.
Pop in a large mixing bowl and cover with cling film, leaving to rise for about an hour (somewhere warm and without a draft).
Pound down until you've removed the air, and knead for about 10 minutes, until there are small bubbles under the surface of the dough. If you've not kneaded before, push the dough away from you with the heel of one hand, stretching the dough out and pulling back with a knuckle to reform, then repeat).
Using one large and one small bread tin, line both with greased greaseproof paper. Split the dough between the two accordingly, roughly forming the dough into loaf shapes. Leave to rise again for another half hour to an hour.
Bake for 1/2-3/4 hour at 350F. until golden. Test with a skewer, and when the loaf is removed from the oven and tin, it should sound hollow when you knock the bottom.
Delicious thickly sliced plain or toasted for the ideal golden, crumbly, slightly chewy, buttered vehicle for Marmite, or your favourite marmelade!
*please do not hold me to this, I advise you also take up some yoga, or maybe start babysitting for a bit of extra cash
Apologies also for my lengthy absence. Things have been busy on the job/interview front, that was until the economic situation really started to strike in earnest. So I'm having to take a more creative approach to life. But it's alright, for my writing at least - it is looking like for a while I may be returning to the Good Life, as well as possibly, possibly setting up my own business. The this time back in the country, and minimised incomings, is providing the perfect setting for me to explore a food theme that I find quite fascinating, and which, after all, may be relevant for a LOT of people out there, who are having to start to tighten the purse strings, but still need to feed themselves (and others) with less dosh. More nosh for less dosh so to speak. Oh gosh, sorry, I think the habit may be somewhat difficult to break!
So to start off what is going to be an ongoing theme, something cheap, cheerful and STRESS-RELIEVING.
Eh? Stress-relieving? Wot??
Ahhhhh, yes. Stress relieving. Take a lovely, long deep breath and say together with me:
'frreeeeeessssh breeeeadd' 'freeeeesshhhhh hoooomeemaaaade breeeeeaddddd'.
Yip. That's right. Make yourself up a generous dollop of yeasty bread dough (sadly not dough of the £££ variety, soz), and not only will you have plenty of bread for the following few days' sarnies, and toast for all those buttered soldiers you eat with your boiled egg, but you will also have a free punchbag. Any money stresses instantly relieved, 100% guarantee or your money back.*
So here it is, a simple, foolproof wholemeal bread recipe.
Ingredients:
1lb Wholemeal Flour
1/2 lb Strong White Flour
1 pkt dried yeast (you can of course use fresh yeast but I'm going to be doing this at a later date)
salt
olive oil and warm water to about 3/4-1 pint
Method:
Mix flour, yeast and salt and add about 1 pint of liquid, depending on the flour. Best to make a sloppy dough and then add more water in order to knead it. Knead roughly until smooth - about 2 minutes.
Pop in a large mixing bowl and cover with cling film, leaving to rise for about an hour (somewhere warm and without a draft).
Pound down until you've removed the air, and knead for about 10 minutes, until there are small bubbles under the surface of the dough. If you've not kneaded before, push the dough away from you with the heel of one hand, stretching the dough out and pulling back with a knuckle to reform, then repeat).
Using one large and one small bread tin, line both with greased greaseproof paper. Split the dough between the two accordingly, roughly forming the dough into loaf shapes. Leave to rise again for another half hour to an hour.
Bake for 1/2-3/4 hour at 350F. until golden. Test with a skewer, and when the loaf is removed from the oven and tin, it should sound hollow when you knock the bottom.
Delicious thickly sliced plain or toasted for the ideal golden, crumbly, slightly chewy, buttered vehicle for Marmite, or your favourite marmelade!
*please do not hold me to this, I advise you also take up some yoga, or maybe start babysitting for a bit of extra cash
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