There are loads of ginger-flecked and specked biscuits on the Internet and in cookbooks, but I hope you like these. Triple the ginger, triple the fun! But please don’t take this blog post as an endorsement of biscuits and sweet treats: whatever the sugar, whatever the flour, whatever the fat, moderation is key. If you want to eat more, move more!

PS While trawling around reading about the nutrient profile of spelt flour I found a link to Heidi Swanson’s Triple Ginger Cookies. They look very similar to these, but with a different method and some different measurements. Although I was not influenced by her cookies (I was making these before I even knew what a blog was!), I feel that I must give her a link, and give you the option. Hers look very gingery!

Soon I will be posting a ‘raw’ ‘power bar’ type sweet – smoodged-up nuts, dried fruit and spices. Look out for this no-added sugar/fat, grain-free, vegan treat soon. But today is baking day at food to glow. Enjoy!

I have been neglecting to do some invaluable linking up but today I hope that Mark of Javelin Warrior’s Cookin’ W/ Luv will accept this for his Made With Love Mondays roundup. I don’t know if I have ever sent him anything sweet!

Cashew and Three-Ginger Biscuits

This week in 2011: Fragrant Tofu Thai Green Curry (dodgy photos but really tasty!)

This Week in 2012: Steam-fried Egg with Samphire and Smoked Tofu 

Miss R’s Track of the Week: Frank Ocean’s ‘Sweet Life’ (it has one mild swear word)

Super-easy, ultra-snappy ginger biscuits – or cookies if you prefer – with wholesome and protein-rich cashews to make these treats last longer in your belly. Two will do. These are a perfect bake to give someone going through chemotherapy, or who just needs a little TLC.

Raw, large-grain sugar OR the sugar that drops off the crystallised ginger, to decorate – optional

Preheat your oven to 170C/330F and line two baking trays with baking parchment (non-stick) or Silpat.

Either by hand or with electric beaters, beat the butter and sugar together until light and fluffy; beat in the egg with 1 tbsp of flour (this keeps the mixture from curdling).

Sift or dry-whisk the flour, baking powder, salt and ground ginger together and fold into the wet mixture; stir in the remaining ingredients until you get a soft, but rather stiff, dough.

Pinch away pieces of dough that weigh about 30 grams – or look the size of a shell-on walnut. I am a weirdo so I weigh each piece! Roll each piece into a ball as you go, and place about 5 cm (2″) apart on the lined trays; flatten slightly with the back of a wet fork. You should get up to 40 biscuits in a batch. Bake for 12-15 minutes, or until just done and uniformly light brown. Leave on the tray for a couple of minutes before transferring the biscuits onto a baking rack to cool and crisp up.

These keep very well in an airtight container, although after a week they may soften slightly. * I haven’t tried these with g-f flour. Let me know if you do.

It gets better. Well, maybe not better-better, but better for you. Not only is it pretty (-ish) and has homemade cheese, this curry is also cheap, nutritious and quite low in fat. Woo hoo!

Although most of us can get raw beetroot nearly year-round, it is much more abundant in the northern hemisphere from June to October. These are the months we see the more attractive and unusual varieties in the market, some with beautiful deep pink and white candy-striped interiors (chiogga), or ones that look like little golden suns (the appropriately named ‘golden’).

A cultivar of the centuries’ old English and Indian wild seabeet, today’s Beta vulgaris – a relative of  spinach and chard – is rather a take it or leave it vegetable. Many would rather leave it, probably due to over-vinegared mushy slices that ‘adorned’ many a salad in the last century. Those were just nasty. Home-pickled beets are delicious (Indian/Scandi-style recipe soon!), but fresh is just fabulous: sweet, slightly earthy, minerally. Young beets, no bigger than golfballs, tend to be the sweetest, but even behemoth ones will deliver if treated with a little culinary tlc. Or just plunge it in a juicer.

It is incredibly versatile too. Some of us whack it into chocolate cake, where it lends its own subtle sweetness, but minus the earthiness of the straight raw stuff. And it is just wonderful roasted with olive oil then drizzled with raspberry vinegar; shredded into salads – both green and grain; simmered in soup; pinkifying an otherwise classic risotto (this one from Diana Henry looks a must-make). It also makes a damn fine juice, with ginger, lime, carrots and apple.

And the greens themselves are no slouches. Unless you get them from a farmer’s market or  farm shop, UK beets are likely to be topless, which is a real shame as the very pretty leaves – a rich green with deep red, almost palpable, veins – are incredibly delicious. The leaves taste much like their pricier kissing cousin, chard, but are almost always chucked out. One of my favourite things to do with them, on the rare occasions that I have a a good sheaf of them (from my neighbour Warwick’s allotment), is to wilt  them  in good olive oil with some smooshed anchovies or black, cured olives, sliced garlic and fresh chilli. Then I toss this rather alarmingly dark melange into cooked pasta and squeeze over loads of fresh lemon, adding chopped parsley and shavings of fresh pecorino. It sounds so simple, dull even. It is anything but. This is just one of many fabulous bonus meals from homegrown (or allotment/CSA) beets, and all the better for its knowing frugality. Last summer this was my go-to mid-week meal on at least half a dozen occasions.

Impeccable nutrition credentials round off this rather overlooked and unloved vegetable. Beets may even improve your stamina. Perhaps in more ways than one…

But what you probably want is the cheese recipe. And I am boring you about beets. Apologies. Here you go. Oh, and don’t be freaked by the wordiness of the recipe: it’s just me giving options and explanations. The whole thing is very easy. I promise.

Beetroot and Tomato Rogan Josh with Homemade Paneer

The Paneer

1 tsp salt – optional

Specialist equipment: muslin cloth, or a new thin tea towel

First of all, make the paneer. Sure you can buy it, but what you find is usually expensive, can be rubbery and will not be organic. And your own fresh batch will taste a lot better. So, pour the milk into a large, heavy-bottomed saucepan and, over a low-medium heat, begin to bring to the boil. Stir during this time to prevent the milk from sticking to the bottom of the pan. Just as it starts to form persistent bubbles around the sides of the pan, add in the buttermilk. Give the milks a stir until the yellowy whey separates from the whiter curds. The whey will go a weird yellowish-green when the separation is complete – just a minute or two.

Pour the whole lot into a large sieve that you have lined with the muslin cloth, or similar, and rinse with cold water (this stops it from being rubbery). If you want to add salt, pull up the ends of the cloth and tie to the kitchen faucet. When it stops dripping you can pop the curds into a bowl and stir in the salt. Otherwise, a quick way to get cheese is to pull up the sides of the cloth and give it a gentle twist – like you do when you are hand-washing a delicate sweater, even though the tag tells you not to. The whey should come through very readily.

If you want it to have a square shape, pop the now-firm cheese – it is officially cheese! – into a small plastic container lined with another cloth. Press it to fit the corners. I just keep it as: a ball. I flatten it and press out more whey by putting it on a board or baker’s cooling rack and balancing a heavy pan on top. I leave it this way for 15-20 minutes. I then slice and use it, or store it in the fridge for later. It will keep well for three days. Makes 200 grams of cheese.

While the cheese is resting, make the curry.

Curry Instructions

Heat a large wide pan, such as a wok or karai, add 1 tbsp of the oil and the onions. Cook on a medium heat, stirring occasionally, until soft. Now add in the beetroot, rogan josh paste mix and kalonji seeds (if using), mixing well then cooking for a further 5 minutes. Add the water and tomatoes and bring to the boil; cover and turn down to simmer for 30 minutes. If you use cooked beetroot you can get away with 15 minutes.

While the curry is simmering, you may want to fry until golden some of the paneer in the remaining oil with the garam masala.

Pop the (uncooked) paneer into the curry and simmer for five minutes; stir in the lemon juice, yogurt if using, and the leaf coriander. Divide between four bowls and top with the fried paneer. Serve with the optional raita (see below) and naan bread, chapati, roti, rice or quinoa.

Serves: 4

Raita

a squeeze of lemon juice

Mix and use soon after making. You can substitute coriander/cilantro or parsley for the mint if you can’t get fresh mint.

So, unless you think California, Shanghai, Tokyo or Paris are on the Gulf of Mexico, you will have guessed Florida. I am home visiting family, getting a needed hit of sun, not going to theme parks, reading loads, and eating. And eating some more.

At some point I will be whizzing up this spice paste to pop into my Dad’s freezer for him to use after I leave. And if we have time I will knock up the recipe that I will post next week, featuring as it does homemade paneer – ridiculously easy and fun to make. But mostly I am being taken to the many new eateries that are springing up, like enthusiastic Labradors – welcoming and eager to please.

The past few days have been spent on Anna Maria Island, a dot of a place in a string of bridge-connected barrier  islands that parallel the southwest mainland cities of Sarasota and Bradenton. It is idyllic with its nearly empty bleached-white beaches, low-rise homes and condos, and lack of traffic. A resort town hiding in plain sight. This is where I was married, but even without this sentimental connection, it would be one of my favourite places on Earth. But it has come to mean  family, and holds many happy memories.

Although we ate simply and by our own hand, we did discover upon leaving the island two stylish and delicious new places to eat – Poppo’s Taqueria and Anna Maria Island Donuts. Both are very small enterprises, the latter being just a young bubbly couple making all donuts up to order. I am not normally a sweet person but after our very early lunch next door of – in my case - spiced tempeh with seasoned pinto beans, brown rice, pickled red onions, guacamole, freshly made green chilli sauce, and herbs over honey-lime red cabbage – we each indulged in a bespoke freshly made donut. These were as far away from Krispy Kreme and Dunkin Donuts as is possible to get. The donuts are freshly made with not a trace of the fat in which it is cooked; slightly crisp with a soft but not airy or doughy interior. Not sweet either, although there is of course a little sugar in the dough. It is a donut after all! My sister, who has a knowledgeable and discerning sweet tooth, said hers was the best donut she had ever had. She said they are the kind of treat worth the trip alone. I don’t want to say she has a lot of experience in donut tasting, but I trust her opinion, especially because it mirrored mine. Of the seven icing/coating options I chose caramel, and topped it with chopped peanuts and sea salt. Simple and simply delicious. We all had something different, and we did a thing my fellow non-sharers and germphobes usually abhor: we passed them around for tasting and appraisal. All anyone walking past would have heard was a symphony of satisfied mmm’s and a bit of finger licking.

Both shops are in a tiny and sympathetically designed development on Pine Avenue, light years removed from the soul-less, bland ‘strip malls’ that blight many of Florida’s highways and roads. You could just as easily cycle or walk here as drive up in a car (open-topped or full-spec SUV please), which is unusual in Florida. Impressions are that these businesses are more than thriving, which hopefully means that this area at least is heralding a new wave of confidence in the economy, and life in general. Of course I didn’t think that while I was sitting there, munching down on my spicy tempeh. I was just about  happy enough watching the coolest people I have ever seen in real life stroll up and place their orders to the Chris Hemsworth lookalike. But I did just wonder: when can I have a donut?

Rogan Josh Spice Paste

This Week 2011: Lemon Geranium Cake

This Week 2012: Five Seed No-Knead Bread

Miss R’s Track of the Week: Entertainment by Phoenix – brilliant!

Resist the tempting ready-made spice pastes, with their preserving slicks of oil and their artery-hardening sodium levels, and make this easy, freezeable mix instead. Although rogan josh is usually a rather hot and pungent beast, please tame as required by nixing or reducing the fiery dried chillies. The resulting paste should have a good, concentrated whack of flavour and heat: it will be sweetened and tamed when other fresh ingredients are later added.

This paste is enough to serve four to six in a vegetable or vegetable and protein-based curry. To use once made, add a little oil in a medium-hot pan, karai or wok, and stir-fry a chopped onion and 400-500 grams of  meat, chicken, prawns, tempeh or tofu for five minutes, followed by the paste. Add in approximately 750 grams of evenly sliced vegetables, stirring to coat. Stir-fry for a few minutes before adding 500 ml of water or coconut milk, or a combination of the two. Bring to the boil, reduce the heat to a simmer and bubble away until the vegetables are cooked to your taste. I like to add lemon or lime juice at the end of the cooking time, as well as chopped fresh coriander leaves. You may wish to add some salt too. Serve with steamed rice or chapati.

My next post will tell you how I use this paste to make a delicious and beautiful beetroot, tomato and homemade paneer curry.

Ingredients and Directions: Puree together 3 fat peeled garlic cloves with a thumb-sized (30g) piece of peeled gingerroot, juice of half a lemon, 1 red chilli (deseeded or not, as you wish) and 1 tsp of salt.

Roast in a hot dry pan (I use a cast iron skillet): a 5 cm piece of cinnamon stick, 4 green cardamom pods, 5 whole cloves, 1 tsp peppercorns, 2 tsp coriander seeds, 2 tsp cumin seeds, 3 birds’ eye chillies (optional – very hot). Whiz these up to a powder in a spice or coffee grinder, then mix with the pureed garlic, ginger and chilli, 2 tsp ground turmeric*, 2 tsp garam masala, 1 tsp hot paprika or chilli powder (optional),  ¾ tsp fenugreek powder (or roast 1 tsp of the seeds, above) and 3 heaped tbsp of concentrated tomato paste.

Use immediately or pop into a clean jar, label and store in your freezer. To use from frozen, let the paste defrost enough to loosen from the jar; use as for freshly made.

Makes 100 grams of paste – enough for 4-6 servings. *I accidentally left out the turmeric when first posted. Please use!

next post: beetroot and tomato rogan josh with homemade paneer

But chard is an early-ish, cooler-weather crop, with more than a hint of hardy wintriness about it – even when young and small of leaf. It is a robust, no nonsense kind of vegetable that stands up to rough winds, cold temps and punchy flavours like no other. I would love to persevere with more adamantly Spring dishes such as last week’s crab one, but we still need the warmth of this sort of dish, combined with the promise of what is to come. For after chard comes asparagus and watercress, then broad beans, beetroot and courgettes. And then the flashier summer crops of tomatoes, artichokes, corn and aubergines, and as many tender herbs as you can ever wish. I am already making haphazard lists and scribblings of the many spring and summer-crop recipes I want to make because, like Little Orphan Annie says, “the sun’ll come out tomorrow.” Crossed fingers.As you will not be surprised to know, while the piquant and light Roquefort sauce, and perhaps the crusty triangles of polenta, will get most diner’s attention, for me chard is the star of this recipe. Not only for its taste and nutrition, but also because it is one of the first crops to battle through the usually frigid British so-called Spring. A relative of beetroot, quinoa, spinach and amaranth, chard is really a delicious fancy weed: Beta vulgaris, subspecies cicla – from the family Chenopodiacae – to be exact. Although, according to this great US website, chard is a year-round crop in the US, the season hasn’t  started here in the UK. Heck, I’m not sure if it is even in the ground yet. When it does come I will have to restrain myself from inundating you with chard-centric recipes, for I am nearly as fond of it as the now-ubiquitous kale. But ‘look forward’ to at least a few simple and rustic ones – it doesn’t ‘do’ fancy – featuring this most humble of vegetable. Hopefully they will be a bit prettier than this honest but really delicious dish. I fully acknowledge that masters of light and style such as Heidi or Katie would do a better job, but please look past the dodgy styling and lack of photo editing to see the potential in these wonderful ingredients.

If you have never had chard, think of it as a more robustly structured spinach, with a mild but distinctive mineral tang. It is actually my 16-year old Miss R’s favourite vegetable, having declared last year that she could happily eat it every day. (She has obviously inherited her Mum’s bizarrely strong liking for minerality. Let’s just hope it doesn’t veer straight into French Sancerres. Like her Mum…)

You can always substitute chard for spinach, but where spinach will just disappear to a tenth of its size – or less – when cooked, chard is fantastic for healthily bulking out a dish. Pair it with equally earthy ingredients like lentils, beans, mushrooms, potatoes, quinoa,  brown rice, vinegar, pungent herbs or aged cheese. Deborah Madison, in her seminal vegetable primer, Vegetable Literacy, has a number of gorgeous recipes to entice. Her Chard, Ricotta and Saffron Cakes look especially drool-worthy. Here’s a link to it via the California Food Literacy Centre, but do check out/buy the book if you can.

Chard can and does grow wild in places such as Mexico, the Mediterranean and California, but most of what we get is cultivated, either by Joe Public as a sturdy and almost unkillable garden vegetable, or from the markets in leafy piles of green, red or rainbow. I  have one winter-hangover specimen of rhubarb chard, old and unlovely with its ruby-red stem, holding firm in the garden. It seems to be thumbing its metaphorical nose at the awful weather by not keeling over, although it really is too bedraggled to eat. For now it has escaped my culling secateurs because it pleases me to see such defiance. But come May  I will plant out a fledgling tray of candy-striped rainbow chard, relying on instructions from here (last year I ‘cheated’). Or, failing that, depend on the generosity of my verdant-thumbed neighbour Warwick, who keeps an immaculate allotment and visits regularly with armfuls of beautiful organic vegetables. I mostly use his offerings for dishes I make for the cancer nutrition classes I teach, but extras give a tasty local flavour to things I prepare for the family. Just yesterday he came over with a heavy  raffia string of hand-tied onions, fat and sweet. The last of his over-wintered stash so all the more prized.

If you are tempted to make this, please substitute with spinach or kale (to which it is not related) if chard isn’t available. But if you have even some straggly, tough looking specimens, pick out any woody stems and use the remainder here. Chard gives fabulous taste and bite even when not at its best-looking. And of course, if you are vegan, leave out the dairy bits, perhaps squeezing over plenty of lemon, or even tossing through a smidge of dark miso paste. The latter will capture the umami-ish hit of the stipulated Roquefort quite nicely. I’ve included a ‘recipe’ for a vegan sauce.

Even if I am still wearing thick tights and polo necks, and even if the sun is not out tomorrow, a plateful of new season’s vegetables on grilled polenta is just the thing to make me smile. I hope it makes you smile too.

What is making you smile today? (Keep it clean!)

Piquant Mushrooms, Chard and Beans with Grilled Polenta

This Week in 2011: GInger-Miso Grain and Vegetable Salad

This Week in 2012: Cauliflower and Almond Pizza Crust with Fresh Tomato Sauce and Greens

Miss R’s Track of the Week: Full Circle by Canadian band, Half Moon Rising (love the tribal feel of the drums)

This is straightforward enough to feature as a healthy, energising midweek meal. If however you balk at the idea of cooking, cooling then grilling polenta of a Wednesday, do just use slices of ready-cooked polenta – usually sold in fat ‘sausages’ with the raw polenta. Or you could even spoon the juicy greens, beans and mushrooms over good bread – like sourdough or ciabatta; or perhaps quinoa or rice. And if chard is not readily available to you yet, or is coming from Spain right now, as is the case for us in the UK with our current rubbish weather, do use spinach (a relative) or kale (which is not). And still a few tweaks to consider are for vegans to use a tablespoon of dark miso in place of the dairy (see below); for omnivores perhaps add or substitute chicken for the beans. My family went crazy for the latter, licking plates clean and all that.

And just to say that if you make the polenta from scratch, I have given measures for more than you need, so perhaps grill the remainder the following day and top with mashed ripe avocado, stir-fried mushrooms with herbs, or scrambled eggs. It also tastes fab with just a drizzle of good honey (truffle honey is magical!).

Polenta:

165g (1 cup) quick-cooking polenta – although I used white maizemeal because I had it

750g (3 ½  cups) water

1 tsp salt

¼ tsp garlic powder (optional)

1 tbsp olive oil

Greens, etc:

2 tbsp olive oil

75g (1 cup) washed and sliced leeks – tender whites only OR 1 mild onion

Pinch of salt

150g (heaped cup) earthy mushrooms, such as shiitake, portabello or chestnut, chunkily sliced

3 cloves of garlic (I used aged garlic but ‘ordinary’ is best), peeled and sliced

100g (just over 3 cups) washed and sliced chard, including the stems

1 tbsp fresh thyme leaves, or ½  tsp dried leaves (more to taste)

1 x 400g (14 oz) tin of white beans, rinsed and drained OR equivalent home-cooked

Juice of half a lemon – optional

Piquant Sauce:

3 tbsp low-fat crème fraiche, sour cream or fromage frais

1 heaped tbsp Roquefort or goats’ cheese (more to taste)

1 tsp+ hot water, to loosen

Vegan Alternative: 1 tbsp dark miso paste + ½  tbsp neutral oil + 2 tbsp hot water + squeeze lemon juice

Firstly, make the polenta by bringing the water to the boil with the salt. Pour in the polenta steadily, while whisking with the other hand – this will avoid lumps. If you don’t feel that coordinated – and sometimes I don’t – just pour in and beat like fury until any lumps disappear. Quick-cook polenta will be ready when it is completely absorbed, porridgey and clinging to a wooden spoon: about three minutes. Stir in ½ tbsp of the oil and the garlic powder, then pour into a lightly greased baking sheet so that it is about 2.5 cm (3/4 inch) thick; spread over the remaining oil; put aside to cool and set.

For the vegetable topping, heat the oil in a large sauté pan over a low-medium heat. When the oil is heated, add the sliced leeks; stir-fry for a few minutes, until they become translucent. If you use onions instead, cook on a lower heat, for a longer time, to really make sure they are well-cooked and the raw taste and smell disappears. Now add in the mushrooms and garlic, cooking until the inherent juices are released and nearly evaporated away. Pop in the beans, thyme and the washed and sliced chard – or other greens – stir and cover for five to seven minutes, stirring occasionally. The timing depends on the thickness of the stems; spinach will take less time to wilt. Squeeze over the lemon, if using, and stir in. You may want to add in some freshly ground black pepper; salt too. But maybe wait until you judge how salty the sauce is for you.

While the greens wilt and cook, mix together the sauce ingredients and set aside.

When the polenta is set, slice it into squares or triangles and place under a hot grill, until  starting to brown in patches – white polenta/maizemeal won’t really brown. Don’t grill the other side or it may go hard – ugh. You can of course also do this on an oiled stovetop griddle pan, for scorch marks and extra crustiness.

To serve, place 2-3 grilled polenta slices on each plate and spoon over the greens, beans and mushrooms, followed by a good streak of the sauce. Or, you could mix the sauce into the greens mixture and spoon over the polenta.

Serves 2-3 for a light but filling meal, with perhaps some roasted peppers or tomatoes to accompany.

Chard Nutrition: Vitamins A, C, K, E the Bs, as well as magnesium, manganese, potassium, calcium and iron are abundant in chard. And of course it contains loads of cleansing fibre. The key cancer prevention phytochemical group is the betalains, which provide powerful antioxidant, anti-inflammatory and detoxification support.

If I had a penny for every version of this zingy dish, I would indeed be a rich woman. But just because it is well-represented in cookbooks, on the Internet and in magazines doesn’t mean it isn’t special. For me this dish represents spring – its freshness, its seasonality and its ease. Truly it is one of the first non-wintry dishes that I am drawn to make. And we continue to make versions of it until crab season ends and my own supply of kitchen garden herbs is but a memory. Right now I am cheating a bit as we are still unseasonably cold (single Celsius digits -boo), but crab and commercially grown new season’s herbs are in full swing and plentiful. If I could hold out until July (!) new garlic, soft and mild, would be in it too.

Another reason I am ineluctably drawn to making this dish right now – while I am still wearing layers of wool and my feet have only been bare in the shower – is I am paying delicious penance for an indulgent weekend. After a couple of days of not giving a stuff what we ate, all of us here at food to glow are clamouring for clean, fresh and snappy flavours. This easy recipe fulfils this brief in just a few ingredients. But we are holding off on the usual accompanying glass of knife-sharp white.

Other recipes of this ilk are just as easy - this one from BBC Good Food is super simple and includes white wine; this one from Nigella is predictably luxurious with its overdose of pasta and olive oil, but with a shot of health from watercress. Really all of these recipes – mine included – are just a template. The only rules seem to be to use fresh herbs, good quality, slightly al dente pasta, and best quality crab. The latter can be tinned (least favoured option, but year-round), or frozen (year-round too), but fresh and picked-over by your fishmonger is best: its sweetness will balance well with the sharp citrus and grassy herbs. If crab is pricey where you are then crayfish are a good option, also being surprisingly sweet, and without the possibility of finding bits of shell in your dish. Alternatively, you might like to use creamy white beans for a very acceptable vegan version. I actually like it this way with some avocado for a quick and cheap lunch for one, also ditching the pasta in favour of Ryvita crispbreads (the ones with the seeds – yum). You can also amp up the heat subtly with a grating of fresh ginger, or replace the chilli with the ginger, full stop.

Because this recipe is loaded with fresh herbs I can’t think of a more appropriate place to link up with than over at Karen of Lavender and Lovage’s delightful Herbs On Saturday. And while I’m at it maybe Mark of Javelin Warrior’s Cookin’ With Luv will let me pop this onto his Made With Love Mondays. Both are open to all food bloggers, so if you have a herby or made from scratch recipe you wish to share, go over and visit them for the rules and regs. I hope to see you over there!

What recipe says Spring to you?

Linguine with Spring Herbs, Chilli and Crab

This week 2011: Pancetta and Bitter Greens Tart; Two Soda Breads

This week 2012: Forager’s Fritters

Miss R’s Track of the Week: Gezillig by fantastic Scottish band The OK Social Club (fronted by the fabulous and charismatic Raff Eragona)

In my house, this easy flavoursome dish gets made as soon as crab season commences. Of course it can be made with canned crab, and most definitely frozen crab, but the happy coincidence of fresh outdoor grown herbs and seasonal crab makes it all the more enjoyable. I sometimes pad it out with slivers (well, chunks) of ripe avocado, but mostly we plump for all-crab and hang the cost.

I have stipulated white claw meat but if you like the earthy assertiveness of brown, be my guest to substitute some of the costlier white for more wallet-friendly brown. And it goes without saying really that you can use gluten-free pasta. For that matter you can skip the pasta altogether and use the chilli-herb-crab melange as a topping for toasted bread (crostini) or even slices of cucumber (posh party nibble). Any leftovers make an unusual omelette filling the next morning. Or so I would think. We’ve never had leftovers.

Chilli flakes or grated ginger, optional garnish for more heat.

Cook the pasta as directed for al dente while you make up the crab mixture.

For the crab mixture, pop the garlic, chilli and salt either in a food processor or use a pestle and mortar. For either option, pulse or pound until it you get a paste. Now add in the herbs and pulse/pound until you have a chunky but well-mixed paste. Decant the spicy herby, fantastic-smelling paste into a bowl and mix in the crab meat, citrus juice, zest and olive oil- mixing well with a fork.

When the pasta is cooked, drain it, pop it back into the pan and then pour in the crab mixture, forking it through evenly – I usually use tongs to lift and turn it all around. Taste for seasoning – maybe more citrus, maybe more salt or more chilli. Serve immediately.

Vegan option: Use best-quality cooked white beans or edamame – delicious

Serves 2.

This recipe is a reworking of one found in Dan Lepard’s fantastic baking book, Short and Sweet: The Best of Homebaking (UK link). Loads of his recipes have caught my eye but I made this one on the actual day I bought the book. From a real live shop! I have simplified Dan’s method, ditched his vinegar and water, and added baking powder and wholemeal flour for additional oomph. Oh, and the cheese and pepper. His original recipe is not difficult if you want to give it a go. But he wants you to leave the muffins overnight – or longer! – before you actually cook them. I’ve done the waiting thing as well as this quicker way without any real difference. You may think differently though. There are still a few rises to wait out, so this is probably a weekend bake. You could also start this the night before and do the first rise in the refrigerator, as Dan suggests. They are worth the wait, regardless of approach.

There are a few other, somewhat similar, recipes I fancy trying, including this one from Alton Brown. It sounds more like the thin, holey English muffins of my childhood. But the looser, almost pancake-like batter made to achieve this type of muffin is perhaps not so amenable to titivation. And we know how I like to titivate! Otherwise known as mess with/screw up.

Dan’s recipe is a stiffer, cuttable dough – suitable for add-ins like cheese, and more like the kind we get in our UK grocery stores, but obviously better (or at least my family thought so). I like the reassurance of cutting the dough rather than the scarier thought of wrangling a loose and wayward batter into baking rings. But I will tackle that at some point. For now the more methodical, contemplative approach suits me. Either way, pass the Marmite!

Belatedly I am popping this over to April’s One Ingredient Challenge (Cheese) hosted by Nazima of Franglais Kitchen and Laura of How To Cook Good Food. Please go over and see the other cheesey offerings, and maybe even send over one of your own. They will have a roundup with images later in the month.

Cheddar and Black Pepper Muffins

Recipe adapted from Dan Lepard’s Short and Sweet: The Best of Homebaking (US link)

This Week in 2011: Tuna and Crème Fraiche Pizza

This Week in 2012: Forager’s Fritters

Miss R’s Track of the Week: Tom Odell, Supposed To Be. A word: stunning

These light but sturdy savoury muffins beg to be buttered and eaten right away. But any leftovers are delicious the next day, split and toasted as per bought muffins. They may look a faff to make, but they are not in the least bit difficult to prepare. You just need a bit of time and patience. You could even make a double batch to bake and freeze for eating in the future. 

50g butter

1 tsp sugar

150ml milk

100g low fat Greek yogurt OR buttermilk

1 tsp fine salt

1 medium egg, beaten

300g white bread flour (strong flour)

75g wholemeal bread flour

1 tsp baking powder

½ heaped tsp freshly milled black pepper

1 packet (7g) fast action yeast (the kind that doesn’t need reconstituting)

75g shredded mature (sharp) Cheddar cheese or other strong hard cheese

Polenta/cornmeal for dusting

Put the butter, sugar and milk in a large pan and heat gently just until the butter melts. Remove from the heat and add in the yogurt, salt and egg. Mix until smooth. Add in the flours, baking powder,  and yeast to the buttery mix and stir well. Decant the dough onto a floured surface and stretch to a rough rectangle. Sprinkle over the cheese and pepper; fold in half.  Press all over with your hands and fold again from the opposite direction, pressing well. Do this another time or until you feel the cheese is distributed evenly. Surround the dough with your hands flat out and draw your hands together underneath the dough. This will help make it a rounded shape.  Pop the dough into the cleaned pan, or into a large bowl.

Cover the bowl and leave in a warm, draught-free place for one hour. It probably won’t rise very much, so don’t worry. Turn out the dough onto a floured surface and knead it for one minute, then shape it into a rectangle about the size of a sheet of notebook paper (A4). Draw up the bottom third to the middle, then bring down the top third over the whole. It will be a third of its original size now. Cover it with a tea towel and leave for another hour to gently rise.

After the second rise sprinkle polenta or cornmeal onto a tea towel covered baking tray, and very gently roll the dough out to about 1 ½ cm, keeping a rectangular shape if you can. Cut the dough into even squares, flip each onto the polenta so that both sides are dusted, then cover again for about 2 hours. The soon-to-be muffins will rise by about half.

When the dough has risen for the final time, heat the oven to 180C/350F. (Although you will start the muffins off in a hot pan, they will be completed in the oven.) Now get a heavy skillet – preferably cast iron – and heat over a medium flame. Carefully place up to four muffins in the hot pan and cover. This allows the moisture in the muffins to create steam, which will help the muffins puff up. Check the bottoms after 2-3 minutes and flip when a good dark gold, with the polenta browned. Do the same on the other side.

Put the bottom-warmed muffins on a baking tray and place in the oven for about 10 minutes – maybe a minute or so more, if needed. Carry on with the remaining muffins in the same way. Eat fresh from the oven, with next days’ leftovers split and toasted under the grill/broiler until browned.

Makes 8 small, fat muffins.

While not exactly overdosing, I have been occasionally picking at an opened Green & Black’s dark chocolate egg. I gave Mr A said ovoid confection, knowing full well when I bought it that he would need ‘help’ with it. It’s not even that tasty if I am honest, but if something is lying around in scrunched up and torn gold foil, its content actually broken up into bite-sized pieces… Well, it would be impolite not to tidy it up. Just doing my bit for the environment.

So, this smoothie is not strictly for the likes of Mr A, the chocolate shunner. Or rather it is, but as such people don’t need any help feeling smugly healthy they should only get a half portion. Grudgingly. You see, it is gorgeous-tasting, and healthy, and very very green. And if Easter in your house means a religious holiday sponsored by Cadburys, well you are probably wanting something like this right about now. Or are pretty close to that point: something not too penitential, but with just the right note of confectionary contrition. You could even blend in some cacao nibs to ease you gently out of the chocolate stupor.

And as a bonus, If I am not mistaken, this very shade of green is very now. So, if you are like me, and most of your wardrobe comes from the supermarket (Sainsburys), grasping a clear takeaway cup of this may give you a modicum of street cred. Or perhaps you’ll look like a a cheapskate middle-aged person who thinks she’s very now (that’ll obviously be me). At least I am old enough not to care.

My test batches went down surprisingly well considering the lurid colour and lack of chocolate. They were slurped down so quickly in fact that everyone was afflicted/hilariously paralysed by brain-freeze. Just like the old days when we would pound back a cola Icee and suffer the consequences, jumping around from foot to foot while simultaneously slapping our foreheads like demented monkeys. It joins Beetroot Zinger in my metaphorical Pantheon of favoured juices. I’ve also got a cherbub-pink smoothie waiting in the wings to dance its way into your heart. I blame a new, scaled-down Vitamix for my recent zeal for all things smooth and nutritious. But don’t worry, instructions are given for less dandified and powerful blenders. And you can even use a hand-blender too.

I hope you can handle the 0-60 transition from frenetic chocolate overload to soothing green smoothie infusion. I’ll admit it doesn’t look quite as fetching as a gold-wrapped  oval of pure chocolate, but it sure as heck looks better on the hips

Pretty-Green Tea Smoothie

The pineapple keeps this super refreshing, zingy smoothie from being totally green, but ‘pretty green’ describes it to a t(ea). Don’t be put off making this if you don’t have a powerful blender. If you have a juicer, do the apple and kale with it and blend in the remainder with a hand blender/immersion blender. Or, use about 200 ml of good quality bought apple juice and chuck this in your blender with the rest of the ingredients. Just use less water if doing it with bought juice. My daughter says the fresh mint really makes this a stand-out smoothie, so do try and get it. But dried mint or even a healthy pinch from a good mint tea bag (eg Pukka Three Mint) is fine too. I have tried it with fresh and dried. 

Ice

Blend and drink. Serves 2.

Nutrition Facts: Of course everything in this smoothie is fantastic for us but the standout is high-fibre, low-calorie kale. One of the top foods associated with lower overall risk of cancer, kale has an abundance of antioxidant vitamins, calcium, vitamin B6, magnesium, copper, potassium, iron and phosphorus, as well as loads of health-promoting phytochemicals such as lutein, zeaxanthin compounds and detoxifying glucosinolates (the latter working even at a genetic level). Too much good stuff to mention here, so click over to WHFoods for more information. It is a fascinating vegetable, and still very much of the moment.

Before you jump to all kinds of inappropriate conclusions, I was in fact eavesdropping on a conversation about chestnut flour. I know, how exciting is that? Other folk are meeting friends for drinks, or trading bonds and whatnot and I’m lurking on Twitter following a convo about flour.

I had never heard of chestnut flour before and, being a mildly curious person, was intrigued when one of the tweeters posted a photo of some amazing looking chestnut tagliatelle. Two whacking great trays, dotted with mounds of bouncy, dusky, just-cut pasta. It looked so much heartier and more interesting than the ordinary white, or even wholewheat. The tweeter of this gorgeous photo was, of course, Italian. So I was not surprised to find that Italians – before the introduction of corn – dried and stone-ground the nut of the native chestnut tree to make polenta. I’m not quite sure why it is not more widely used because it is really a delicious flour. And it is very nutritious too, having a nutrient profile that puts most grains to shame: high protein and fibre, low fat, and with good amounts of Vitamin E, the B vitamin group, iron, potassium, phosphorus and magnesium. Nutritional therapist Tamara Duker has an excellent post about chestnut flour, and how well it compares with other gluten-free grains.

I have yet to make pasta with chestnut flour, but if you fancy a go, this and this look pretty straight-forward. A slow-cooked red wine and boar ragu, ladled onto chestnut pasta, sounds just the business on this still-bitter day here in Scotland. Not very Spring-y, I know.

But today I have put it to a sweeter use: pancakes. Fluffy, squashy, syrup-sponging pancakes. And because I like you, and I am feeling a bit naughty, you can have them with salted caramel sauce. Yes, I have joined the salted caramel sauce brigade. Loads of recipes on the Internet  - which almost blew up when I did the obligatory Google search – but this is the way I do it: single cream instead of double, no butter. I have done a few versions over the years, possibly before I had even heard of salted caramel (or as I like to call it, ‘balancing’ it), but I consulted Dan Lepard and David Lebovitz today for the proper method and wisdom to pass on to you. They both refer to the whole gamut of caramels, not necessarily sauce. But the discussion and method lead us to sauce. A might fine sauce. You may want to make double. Or triple. For presents, of course. I know you aren’t greedy or anything *wink*. But if all of that sugar doesn’t float your boat, these are so moist and naturally sweet that you will be happy scoffing them au naturel.

(Btw, the pancake images are with maple syrup as I had just ruined my ‘healthier’ batch, using coconut sugar. They have a similar colour but very different taste and thickness. Dessert territory rather than breakfast, methinks. Probably.)

So, despite the injection of my Twitter-found chestnut flour, no health food for you today. Eat it. Enjoy it. Have a salad for dinner. Does that sound like a plan?

Have a Happy Easter and see you next week with something healthier, but just as tasty

Popping this over to Javelin Warrior’s Cookin’ With Luv for their Made With Love Mondays feature. All homemade and made, um, with love!

Golden Apple Pie Pancakes (gluten-free) with Salted Caramel Sauce

Miss R’s Extra Track of the Week: Sail By The River, by Yellow Moon. This sweet song is from a singer/songwriter friend of my daughter. It is hard to believer she is only 16! Have a listen.

Featuring the flour wunderkind, chestnut flour. You will love the subtle, pleasantly-nutty taste, – it goes oh so well with the warm spices. It is a little bit nubbly and textured, but I really rate it. Use apple or pear, or even something like persimmon, to add extra taste and moistness. Or keep it plain and let the chestnuts and spices shine. This is easily veganised.

1 apple or ripe pear, grated (save any juice from grating to add to the caramel sauce)

Thoroughly mix together all of the dry ingredients in a large mixing bowl. I use a balloon whisk while shaking the bowl gently back and forth.

To a jug add the milk, lemon juice, egg yolk and melted butter. Whisk thoroughly. Pour the wet mixture into the dry and stir until they just combined. Now fold in the apple or pear. Leave the batter to ‘settle’ for about 20 minutes, or you can just carry on if you have impatient family pulling at your pinny.

In a separate, scrupulously clean bowl, whisk the egg white until just stiff. I sometimes kid myself that I am getting some badly needed exercise by hand-whisking. Fold this carefully into the rested batter, taking care not to knock too much air out. Gluten-free cooking relies on these little extras to give lift.

Heat a flat griddle pan or frying pan with a little rapeseed oil or coconut butter until hot. Fleck a bit of water into the pan. If it immediately sizzles and evaporates quickly, it is ready for the batter. Add a ladle of batter, tilting and gently swirling the pan to get even coverage.  Or dollop smaller spoonfuls of batter – about three to a pan. I made so-called dollar pancakes (okay 2-dollar pancakes) so we could feel extra piggy despite eating a normal portion size. The pancake will be ready to flip when it is slightly puffed and peppered with air bubbles. Have a peak at the underside before flipping – the underside should be deep golden, much more so than lighter coloured all-flour pancakes. Keep warm in a low oven while you use the remaining batter.

Serve with pure maple syrup, or the following salted caramel sauce.

Salted Caramel Sauce – slightly lower fat (as if that matters here)

This is nicer than shop-bought and will keep for up to a week in the fridge. Perfect for dipping fruit pieces into, or drizzling over yogurt, ice cream or even plain cake. Just warm it gently, adding a little extra cream to loosen, if needs be.

I initially made the caramel sauce with less of the indicated ingredients, but I didn’t feel as able to control the process of caramelisation and it quickly burned. If you have a small, steep-sided pan, feel free to half the amount, but mind that it doesn’t spill over. And use a sugar thermometer if you have one – remove from the heat when it reaches 230F (easier to read than Celsius). Anything over and it goes to soft ball stage, which is fine, just quite firm as it cools – recoverable with more cream. Otherwise just look for it to start changing colour – don’t let it actually go brown. Just the golden side of amber is perfect. Some caramel advisers tell us to go to smoking point but I think that probably is not good for us and would certainly be too strong in taste for the average imbiber.

¾ tsp sea salt

Place the water and sugar into a medium-sized, heavy pan over a medium flame. Do not stir. Bring to a simmer, occasionally swirling but not stirring the syrup.

Once the sugar has dissolved completely turn up the heat and allow the syrup to gently boil for about five minutes. You are aiming for a golden amber colour.

golden amber colour

When the caramel is a golden amber take off the heat and gradually add in the cream. Be careful as the syrup will boil like crazy. Cautious people/ninnies like me wear long oven gloves . Swirl carefully to distribute, then add in the salt. Stir the sauce and let cool to a reasonable temperature before using or storing in a clean jar. It will thicken as it cools; just gently heat to loosen and pour.

salted caramel sauce – once cream and salt are added

No matter. It’s a great excuse to eat potatoes. And spicy potatoes at that. Thinnish coins of scrubbed new potatoes; little hash-style cubes of plump, regal eggplant; hearty, toothsome obsidian-black lentils. All sizzled up in a heady fug of Indian spicing. Although I am still a bit cross that someone ordered a double winter, Asian comfort food provides needed warmth and welcome spice. 

I made today’s recipe after preparing another, lovely sounding, dish for my family. We saw it – macher jhol –  being prepared on the telly by a famous UK chef. This soupy fish curry, with a plethora of traditional Bangladeshi spicing (panch phoran, Kashmiri chilli, cumin seeds) sounded just heavenly: light, flavourful, crave-worthy. But it wasn’t. Well, it was light. Actually it was okay. Trouble is it promised so much, and we felt a bit let down. We were expecting wow and what we got was meh.

Perhaps we had built it up too much in our collective imaginations. I imagined it being made in an outdoor roadside cafe, with a cute Bangladeshi grandma at the karahi, and using bright, fresh ingredients plucked from a raucous, rickety market. I’m sure the versions one gets in Bangladesh are crave-worthy. I’m not doing down macher jhol. Just this unexpectedly lack-lustre version. So, after hot-footing it to get some fresh fish, and making it to the letter (none of the usual tinkering), we ended up stirring in tamarind paste, a pinch of sugar and some other culinary band-aids.

Anyway, the following day I salvaged the remains and doctored it up for my lunch. That was more like it. It wanted more fenugreek, coriander and cumin, as well as the addition of cinnamon and nutmeg. Those are the usual tandoori ingredients (along with a whack of artificial alarm-red food colour). I use an organic, additive-free spice mix from Steenberg’s, but it is easy to make your self. Try this recipe from food.com, but leave out the red colouring suggested, perhaps adding paprika instead. And just to say that the few images I have were quickly taken of the doctored version rather than the new and improved version. Not very pretty, but pretty tasty. You may see a few flakes of fish if you look hard enough.

Today’s recipe is completely different to macher jhol (and not even that it doesn’t have fish) – more a dry curry really, but it has the flavour punch that I think we were expecting. Not Bangladeshi, not macher jhol, but pretty good nonetheless. And it is super easy too. You don’t even have any onions to chop, just eye-friendly aubergines and potatoes.

I am popping this over to Laura at How To Cook Good Food and Nazima of Franglais Kitchen for their joint One Ingredient challenge, featuring chillies. Plenty of fiery recipes to choose from already, but still more time to pop over your own heat-tastic recipe. Thanks to them for this great round-up, as always!

Have you ever been disappointed by a chef’s cookbook recipe?

Tandoori Lentil, Potato and Aubergine Hash

Miss R’s Track of the Week: Noah and the Whale – There Will Come A Time (just released)

Vegetarian Indian comfort food, without the ghee. I use urad dhal (split black lentils), but use any lentil that stays intact when cooked, such as the French Puy lentil. Just don’t use red lentils, or instead of hash you will get mash…

Yogurt, to serve

Heat the oil in a large sauté pan over a medium flame; add the potato slices. Saute until lightly golden on each side, adding the garlic and chilli when you turn the potatoes over. Scoop the potatoes out of the pan (and the flavourings) and set aside.

Add the lentils to the remaining oil (adding in a little extra if the pan is dry), as well as the tandoori spice mix, seeds, ginger and aubergine. Toss around a little to coat and let fry for a minute or so before adding the water and the browned potatoes, chilli and garlic. Stir gently then cover and simmer for 20 minutes, until the potatoes are tender and the lentils just cooked.

Add the greens to the pan, cover and continue simmering for five minutes. Stir and serve with yogurt and lemon. Some oven-baked samosas wouldn’t go amiss either.

Variation: Add in white fish. Cut up a couple of fillets of skinned firm white fish, toss in turmeric and salt; fry in a little oil until just cooked. Set aside. Proceed with the potatoes as directed.

Soft food diet-friendly 

split black lentils – urad dal

I think you will have surmised by now that it is snowing here in Edinburgh. March ruddy 19th and we have horizontal snow and sleet.

flatbread crackers with beetroot ‘hummus’ – recipe coming soon

It has been snowing off and on since weekend before last. It all kicked off as my poor Miss R was attempting to get her PADI certificate while a blizzard raged above. Muggins here, along with Mr A, stood with cups of takeway tea as the snow drove straight into our faces. The occasional flash of retina-searing sun (or so it seemed in contrast) was not enough to mitigate against mild hypothermia. Despite dry suits the youngest of the would-be divers – our daughter included – were just too cold, and full of the cold, to complete the final required task. So, this weekend – with more snow predicted – the girls will trudge back up north to try and complete their training. As they are certifying in true Arctic conditions, their summer marine biology  research trip to Honduras will be as easy as falling off a log. Or rather, boat.

All of this has nothing to do with today’s recipe. I just needed to vent. As a transplanted Floridian I just don’t do cold, or this kind of horrid, sloppy, cement-sky cold. Enough already with the precipitation.

While the unremitting wintery deluge has sent many of us straight to Kayak, fantasising about catching the next flight to the Bahamas, this weather also sends some of us to the kitchen. I imagine that across the frozen north and east many a pot of soup and tray of scones is being made right this very minute. Other than star jumps in the living room, baking and pot stirring are great and productive ways to keep warm. People smile when you offer them a steaming bowl of something nice, and you get the benefit of standing over a simmering pan, or a sneakily-opened oven door. It’s a win-win situation. And these crackers are easy enough to make while a soup is on the go.

I was originally inspired to make this type of cracker when on a visit back home to Tampa, Florida. My sister took me into a chi-chi wine shop, and as we were about to leave – empty-handed as neither of us fancied a second mortgage – I saw a pretty display of crisp flatbreads. They were artfully wrapped in bundles of eight. Perfect for pre-dinner nibbles with a glass of hideously expensive wine or, in our case, a decent bottle of plonk from Red Neck Wines. I nearly screeched when I saw the hand-written, raffia-tied price tag – $8. Eight dollars for eight pieces of baked dough. I’m sure they tasted fab, but really, eight bucks?

When I got home to my trusty metric scales I set about experimenting. In a short amount of time I hit on a version that wouldn’t have looked out of place in that fancy shop. Or at least once it got its rustic wrapping. I really should have bought a pack then to have something to compare this to, but I think I probably would still have stuck to this recipe. It is easy, reliable and ripe for variation. You could sub the wee seeds for bigger, hunky ones like sunflower and pumpkin, pressing them on top rather than mixing into the dough. Or you could use chopped fresh herbs. Maybe take it another direction entirely by baking slightly thicker tongues of dough until not quite crisp and topping with roasted vegetables, or even spiced minced lamb. I have paid a pretty penny for just such a dish. Yes, I know one is paying for the ambience, convenience, packaging, service, not having to wash up. But if you fancy super-fresh, super-crisp, super-cheap flatbread crackers?… And as an added bonus the dough rolling is an amazing way to keep warm

I am entering this into Fab Food 4 All and Fuss Free Flavours’ Credit Crunch Munch, which seems especially appropriate given the sound these make. And of course, Made With Love Mondays over at Javelin Warrior’s Cookin’ With Luv, where is all homemade (have a look at Mark’s piece about Google Reader).

What’s your weather up to? Are you already up to your elbows in young asparagus and pea shoots?

PS. I have changed my theme without checking how it fits with what I already have. My index is a bit of a disaster. I shall rectify for the next post!

Crispy Fennel Seed Flatbread Crackers

(Adapted from my recipe for Olive Oil and Lemon-Rosemary Flatbreads)

This Week in 2011: Spinach and Feta Pie; Leek & Potato Soup with Parsnip and Tarragon 

This Week in 2012: Greens and Squash Gnocchi with Chilli & Roquefort; Green Tea, Lime & Passion Fruit Polenta Cake with Passion Fruit Curd 

Miss R’s Cooking Track of the Week: Hey Now (Dot Major Remix) by London Grammar, plus their more contemplative original – a superb chill-out track 

Leave those pricey artisan flatbread crackers on the grocery shelf with this easy peasy recipe. All you need are some store cupboard ingredients, a rolling pin and an oven. And asbestos fingers, cos you’ll want to snatch them straight off the baking tray. 

Flaky salt, such as Maldon, Murray River pink salt, Halen Mon

Pop the flour into a large bowl along with the baking powder and salt and give it a good going over with a large whisk. You can sift this of course but even refined spelt flour has ‘bits’ in it that stay in a sieve. A large balloon whisk is my weapon of choice when sifting chunky flour.

Now mix in the seeds and pepper before making a well; pour in the oil and water. Stir well and then knead in the bowl a few times before turning out onto a floured surface to lightly knead 20 times. It’s not super crucial but I do think it helps to develop the gluten, even for a short time. Roll the dough into a rough cylinder, wrap in cling film and rest in the fridge for 20 minutes. Again, resting isn’t crucial but I do think it is worth doing if you have the time.

Roll the cylinder into a sausage shape about a foot long and mark out notches at about 4 inch intervals. Cut off one notch and roll out in a rectangle as thinly as possible on a flour-dusted surface or directly onto a sheet of baking paper, flouring the rolling pin as necessary. If it seems a bit resistant to rolling at any point, just leave it to rest for a few minutes. This allows the gluten to relax and become more elastic.

Use a knife and clean ruler, or rim of a baking tray, to neaten the rectangle and then cut the rectangle into strips, then into smaller rectangles. To keep it simple you could just make smaller notches and snip off and roll each into a longue/tongue shape (see image below). You could make it fancier by cutting with a crimp-edged cutter, or use floured cookie cutters to make shapes or rounds.

Carefully lift and place each rolled piece onto a parchment paper-lined large baking tray (unless you have rolled the dough directly onto the paper), piercing each lightly and evenly at regular intervals with a fork. Brush the entire surface with more olive oil (don’t be stingy), scatter over with flaky salt, and bake in a hot (220C/425F) oven for between 8 and 10 minute. Watch carefully. You may get a few singed ends but that’s part of the charm of these (!). Remove carefully and lay on a baking rack to cool and crisp up further. Carry on with the remaining dough. If you have a few baking trays just do all of the rolling and cutting in a one-er.

These keep really well in a airtight container. But as with most baked goods, this theory is rarely put to the test. Perfect with Super-smooth Hummus, Lebanese-style Broad Bean Hummus and Pea and Coriander Dip. See the Index for more partners.

Serves: Zillions

Variation: Try using Indian spicing – a good pinch of garam masala or mild curry powder, plus kalonji/nigella seeds, sesame seeds and poppy seeds.

Gluten-free: I have failed miserably with a crispy gluten-free cracker. Tasty yes, but crispy, sadly no. And as I see from the lack of g-f cracker recipes online, I am not the only one. There are a few good looking recipes, but they all involve more hassle and ingredients than I am willing to tackle. But, if you are interested, try this one on the Doves Farm Crispy Cracker recipe, or perhaps these nut crackers (no flour of any kind) from the always wonderful Green Kitchen Stories.

flatbreads with my hummus

flatbread crackers with beetroot ‘hummus’ – coming soon!

my max and mimi, last weekend