food to glow

Many of my recipes are dreamed about, cogitated upon, mulled over and carefully contemplated before I even write them down. Most commonly I will think about recipes pretty much out of thin air, a kind of “what would happen if I combined this with this?” approach – the madder the better. But also, more prosaically, ideas are formed in the shower (a classic place to daydream), while driving, eating out, and of course flipping through glossy food mags – Bon Appetit being a favourite.

To record my hungry musings I have a collection of Muji paper notebooks filled with scribbles, stains and sketches – all recipes I’ve made over these past 5 years, as well as ideas that will remain forever trapped between the matte black covers. But as an inveterate hoarder of scrap paper I also have to keep up with random ramblings recorded on receipts and cut up photocopies too, all to be crammed into a notebook already bloated with clippings and notes.

The initial scribbles rarely capture the final recipe. Every time a food thought drifts into view – it is usually visual – I open a dialogue in my head that doesn’t really end until I am snapping the images that you see here. Even then – after probably two previous testings – I will be making changes: more texture, more colour, a squeeze of lemon (almost everything one eats can do with at least a hint of citrus). I am rarely happy with things as they are. At least when I am cooking. 

This is, however, one of a few recent recipes where I have made no changes from the original thought; none whatsoever. Somehow I knew I would be satisfied with the simple but unusual combination you see below. And I have been, many times.

If you read my last post involving blood oranges you will know that I am more likely to eat fruit if it is in the company of vegetables. Most usually this marriage of flavours takes place in a salad, but today I am upping my skillet dinner recipe game with Portobello mushrooms, rainbow chard, fake chorizo (one of my non-wholefood vices, I am afraid), Pink Lady apples and a good splash of spicy ketchup. That really is just about all to this recipe, save for a little olive oil. But do read on for a method, of sorts.

I apologise for veering so violently from spring back to winter with this recipe. Last week’s salad may have seemed to herald a batch of spring-like recipes, but nope. It is chilly and grey, and most definitely a skillet recipe kind of day. Unlike yesterday, where we spent the afternoon at the beach. In a coat, mind you. It is Scotland after all. 😉