A retro-delicious supper

Crikey, its been quiet around here, hasn’t it?

Maybe my India trip did change me.

Maybe I have gone all illusive and thoughtful, stopped feeling the urges to share the drivel of my mind with the WHOLE of the INTERNETS.

Maybe I have actually gone vegan and macrobiotic, and merely don’t have time to blog because I am too busy sourcing tempeh.

Or, you know, trying to find out what tempeh actually is.

Or else I have just been really, REALLY busy.

This is maybe what the non-shift working world mean when they looked at me and my creations and asked how I had the time to do it all.

Because, working 9 to 5, trying to have a few hobbies, and trying to feed yourself and your husband before going out to do those things is kind of difficult sometimes.

Never mind taking pictures of every step and trying to think of something witty to say about it all.

I managed to take some pictures of this one.

The jury is almost certainly still out on the witty remarks.

But I can now vouch for the fact it is a tasty dinner and can be thrown together in the short window between coming home from work and the husband going and doing something supergeeky involving cars.

Or computers.

Or perhaps both.

It’s actually the kind of dinner that I imagine Delia Smith or similar pioneering about 3 million years ago, because its the sort of thing that could be billed as a ‘family favourite’.

Simple, inoffensive ingredients coffee shops up and down the land like to put in a toasted sandwich.

And they like putting the ingredients in a toasted sandwich because we like eating them.

So embrace the retro deliciousness.

And the speed.

Dinner for those of us who have a life as well.

Line up the ingredients, all simple: flour, an egg, salt, pepper, cheese, ham, a red onion and some milk and water.

I really don’t know what came over me with the milk and water in a jug thing.

Maybe I’ve been spending the time away from this blog reading Sophie Dahl’s tips.

Maybe not.

Weigh out the flour.

I have SO not become vegan, but in some kind of crazy health kick, figure trying to get a few more wholegrains into the old diet.

*hugs tree*

So if you fancy using a ‘fancy’ flour, use half of that and half good old plain flour.

Or just use all plain flour.

My Mammy has survived just fine without spelt.

As did her Mammy.

And hers.

Little Pink Kitchen.

Full of bourgeois notions about flour.

*shakes head*

Add some salt, pepper, and an egg.

Don’t pink peppercorns make for a lovely photo?

I clearly have bourgeois notions about pepper, too.

Add the milk and water, from a jug or otherwise.

And whisk it all together well.

I was so distracted by thoughts of wholegrains and crockery, I forgot to take a picture of the whisked up stuff.

Soz.

Chop up the ham finely.

And the onion as well.

Grate the cheese, using a demonic grater lady should one be available.

Put the ham, cheese and onion into a bowl.

Remember your thoughts on how fabulously retro this dinner shall be.

Strive to make it more retro.

Add some sweet chilli sauce.

Mix it all up, baby.

Remember the 90s fondly.

It’ll be fajitas next, I’m warning you.

Heat up a non-stick frying pan over a lowish heat.

Pour in a ladle full of your batter. Swirl it around a bit so that its spread thinly and evenly.

Wait until the top of the pancake has sort of dried out a bit before you flip it over.

Sort of like this.

*note holes of authenticity, proof of the lack of Sophie Dahl in my life.

Flip the pancake over, and straightaway add two tablespoons of the cheesy ham goodness to the top.

This means it melts as the pancake cooks on the other side.

Yummers.

Then, fold your pancake in two.

Keep them in the oven until you have finished cooking all the pancakes, then serve, with salad preferably.

But to be quite honest, your side dishes really don’t concern me.

Enjoy!

Ham and cheese crepes
Serves 2. Cooking time 30 minutes.

150g flour (all plain, or a combination of plain and spelt)
1 egg
100ml water
100ml milk
Salt and pepper
100g cheese
2 slices ham
Half a red onion
2 tablespoons sweet chilli sauce

1. Turn the oven on to a low heat (about 150 degrees).
2. Mix together the flour, a pinch of salt and pepper, milk, water and egg until smooth.
3. Chop the ham and red onion.
4. Grate the cheese.
5. in a separate bowl, mix together the ham, cheese onion and sweet chilli.
6. Heat a non-stick frying pan over a low heat.
7. Drop a ladle-full of mixture onto the pan, and swirl until evenly spread.
8. When brown, flip and put two tablespoons on the cheese and ham mixture on the cooked side.
9. When the underside ois cooked, fold, and transfer to a warm oven.
10. Repeat, until all the mixture is used.

Gravy. Its going to get us through. Promise

Oh sweet mother of Santa Claus, the Easter bunny, and the Tooth Fairy.

I have one thing to say.

And one thing only.

CAN JANUARY PLEASE END?

In Febraury, life will be sweet again.

I start my shiny new job.

I go to India.

Gracious, my bank account might start to look healthy again.

In fact, I might start to look healthy again.

Whereas right now I am a giant barrel of lard, completely skint, and well, bloody freezing if I’m honest.

And there is still a couple of weeks left in this month.

So, while I’m not much of a one for wishing time away, I would like to just be able to get through those couple of weeks.

Sure, shall be simple.

Just a few short weeks.

With no shopping.

*weep*

Just a few short weeks.

Of having to cut back on pies.

*sniffle*

Just a few short weeks.

Of having to work in a ruddy call-centre

*HACKING SOBS OF MISERY AND DEPRESSION*

Oh dear.

I have devised a secret survival plan.

And that plan is gravy.

Gravy soothes.

Gravy heals.

Gravy makes everything OK.

And that, essentially, is what this recipe is.

A vessel.

A special, edible, gravy vessel.

Awesome!

Also, the yorkshire puddings are as cheap as chips to make, easy to rustle up after work, and can contain anything you want.

As long as there is gravy.

With gravy by our sides and in our tummies, we CAN get through ruddy January.

GO TEAM!

First up, drizzle the oil into two cake tins and put into the oven to heat.

Then, weigh out the flour.

My Mother got me this measuring device.

Makes for a pretty picture doesn’t it?

I suspect that may not have been her motivating factor.

Still, good choice Mum!

Call upon your local friendly hen to donate to you two of her eggs…

And crack into a bowl with the flour, as well as some salt and pepper.

Mix together the milk and water.

And whisk into the flour until nice and smooth.

Usually, about here, I have an amusing anecdote.

For some reason, today, I don’t.

Blame January.

Need. More. Gravy.

Take the tins out of the oven, and as quickly as possible, pour in the batter and get them back in there.

If you want to take pictures for your Little Pink food blog, just GET ON WITH IT ALREADY. SPEEEEEEEEEED.

Just saying.

While they are baking rifle through the fridge for anything that might go in the middle and goes with gravy prepare some organic vegetables into the shape of bunnies.

Or something.

Mix them with gravy.

Lots and lots of gravy.

Take your puddings out of the oven.

Marvel at their splendour.

Fill with whatever you want: sausages, bacon and cabbage, roast veg, just gravy…

Serve.

Enjoy.

DREAM of February.

Giant Yorkshire Puddings
Serves 2. Cooking time around 30 minutes.

2 tbsp sunflower oil
150g flour
2 eggs
Salt and pepper
200ml milk
100ml water

1. Divide the oil between two 18cm cake tins and put these into a 180 degree oven.
2. Put all the other ingredients into a bowl and whisk until smooth.
3. Remove the cake tins from the oven, and, working quickly, divide the batter between the two before returning to the oven.
4. Bake for 20-25 minutes, until golden brown.
5. Serve

Lessons in learning to like fish: part 2

SOME people MAY assume that a recipe of mine containing crab might contain me squealing ‘I GOT CRABS!’ in an over-excited, childish manner.

They would be right.

I GOT CRABS!

*titter giggle*

I’ve also got the second stage in trying to like fish.

This basically involved adding so much to the fish, it no longer actually tasted much of fish.

AWESOME.

And also delicious.

And well, the only other fishy thing I have taught myself to like thus far has been a posh fish finger from M&S.

If I’m honest, that wouldn’t make much of a blog.

So give it a go. Its tasty stuff!

Line up your ingredients: a tin of crabmeat (GET YOUR CRABS), some fish sauce, a potato, a lemon, a chilli, some garlic, ginger and coriander.

You will also need oil and a smidgen of flour.

I thought I’d give your imagination a workout.

Peel and quarter the potato.

Cook it up. Cook it up GOOD.

Or, until its tender.

You choose.

While the tater is doing its thang, peel and grate the garlic and ginger.

And finely chop the chilli.

Mix these in a bowl with the zest of a lemon, and the coriander all chopped up.

No, I didn’t do a lemon OR a coriander picture.

Imagination Workout.

Remember?

It’s like a public service I offer here.

Sheesh.

Drain the crabmeat so its super dry.

As in, all the liquid has gone, not that its wearing one of those coats that every spide and their mother seem to possess.

That only makes sense if you are from Northern Ireland.

The rest of you can concentrate on GETTING YOUR CRABS READY.

*giggle*

Dump your crabs into a bowl.

I’m trying to think of jokes.

I can’t.

Throw the potatoes into the spicy crab.

You know, running out of jokes is probably a Very Good Thing.

Add the fish sauce.

Crabs. Fishy sauce.

It’s like being a teenager over again.

Mash the whole lot up as best you can.

Pretend the mix is me, making dodgy, inappropriate, STI-related ‘jokes’.

It might help to agitate your mashing.

Form into little BALLS.

Fishy balls? Crabs?

I DO NOT NEED JOKES. THEY ARE ALREADY MADE.

Flour the balls a bit.

And then fry them up in some oil.

No photos of oil, either.

Imagination. Workout. Remember?

When they are nice and brown, flip over.

Cut the lemon you zested earlier into wedges.

And serve with the fishcakes. I drizzled sweet chilli sauce over the top, and served with plain rice and stir-fried greens.

Tasty!

MRS P HAS CRABS Spicy crabcakes
Serves 2. Cooking time 20-30 minutes.

1 tin crabmeat
200g potato
1 garlic clove
1cm piece ginger
1 red chilli
1 lemon
1 tbsp fish sauce
1 tbsp plain flour
Vegetable oil, for frying
2 tbsp sweet chilli sauce, to serve (optional)

1. Peel and chop the potato into small pieces.
2. Cook the potato until tender.
3. While the potato cooks, peel and grate the ginger and garlic into a bowl.
4. Finely chop the chilli and coriander.
5. Zest the lemon, and combine in a bowl with the ginger, garlic, ginger and corainder.
6. drain the crabmeat and add to the spices.
7. Add the potato, mashing well.
8. Shape the mixture into small cakes, dusting with flour.
9. Heat the oil, and fry the crabcakes for 2-3 minutes each side, until brown.
10., Serve, with lemon wedges and chilli sauce.

Mrs P for pizza

THIS is the pizza recipe.

The one I was going to get all smug about, but the husbando gazumped me and sorted dinner out that night.

I cried.

Only a little bit, though.

I love this pizza. Srsly, make the dough before you go to work, and when you come home the whole lot can be on the table in next to no time.

Its less smug, and more just a work of serendipity. And simplicity. And things just falling into place.

We start house renovation projects again tomorrow.

I need a little simplicity.

Just saying.

And the tomato sauce could be neither tastier nor easier.

Score!

First up, make the dough.

Put the flour and yeast into the bowl of your mixer.

You can do it by hand if you want,, but I bought my KitchenAid with the proceeds of the sale of my wedding dress.

I didn’t sell my wedding dress to knead pizza dough by hand.

So there.

Add the olive oil…

And turn on the hot tap.

Put the bowl with the flour and all in it on to mix.

Slowly add water, checking to see if the dough has come together yet.

This doesn’t have enough water.

This does.

Cover with dough with a damp tea towel and leave it in a warmish place for at least an hour.

When you are ready to actually make the pizza, turn the oven on.

Cut the cherry tomatoes in half and put them on a baking tray.

Drizzle with oil and vinegar, and sprinkle on some salt and pepper.

Grate on a little garlic if you’re feeling crazy.

I’m not alway feeling crazy, but certainly always ready to add garlic.

Roast the lot for about 15 minutes, until the tomatoes have browned a bit and are nice and soft.

Put it in a bowl and sort of mash it about a bit.

Listen, its the world’s easiest, tastiest pizza sauce.

Its rustic.

Deal with it.

If you can’t deal with it, you are probably of the mindset that stuffing your own ravioli is straightforward and just what you want to do of an evening.

In which case, you probably don’t read this blog.

Or eat pizza.

Rustic, people.

Oil the baking sheet you are going to cook the pizza on.

And put the dough on it.

I’ll share a secret with y’all. I don’t really roll it out. I just sort of fling it at the sheet and stretch it a bit.

See my notes on rustic above.

And I also now do thin, but not tooooooooo thin.

Otherwise you just end up hungry half an hour later.

That’s a separate note.

A practical one, too.

Crikey. Thats not something that happens much around here.

Spread with the rustic goodness…

And whatever toppings take your fancy.

In the Little Pink Kitchen, this usually involves mozzarella and some sort of spicy sausage product.

It creates harmony in my life.

And it tastes good.

Drizzle with a little oil…

Bake the whole lot until the cheese is melted and the crusts are browned.

Serve.

Halfway though eating, realise basil would make for a pretty picture. Stop your husband from tucking in, sprinkle with the basil and take a picture.

Pizza with super simple tomato sauce
Serves 2. Cooking time 1.5 hours (but that isn’t all spent actually cooking)

200g bread flour
1 tsp easy action yeast
4 tbsp olive oil
Hot water
300g cherry tomatoes
1 tbsp balsamic vinegar
Salt and pepper
I clove garlic
Toppings of your choice

1. Put the flour, yeast and 2 tbsps of the olive oil into your mixer bowl.
2. Turn on the mixer, and gradually add enough hot water to form a dough.
3. Allow the dough to knead for a few minutes, before covering with a damp tea towel.
4. Leave the dough for at least 1 hour.
5. When ready to make the pizza, pre-heat the oven to 180 degrees.
6. Chop the cherry tomatoes in half, and place on a baking tray with 1 tbsp of the olive oil, the vinegar, the garlic (grated) if using, and some salt and pepper.
7. Place the tomatoes into the oven for 15 minutes.
8. Remove the tomatoes from the oven and mash up to form the tomato sauce.
9. Oil a baking sheet and stretch the dough out to your desired thickness.
10 Spread with the squashed tomatoes and add toppings of your choice.
11. Bake, for 10 to 15 minutes, until golden brown.
12. Serve.

Lessons in learning to like fish. Part 1.

Much to my mother’s eternal frustration, I’m not big on fish.

I don’t really know why.

Maybe it’s because I didn’t grow up in a small gourmet town by the Irish Sea.

Oh, wait.

Maybe it’s because I have parents who aren’t really into food.

Oh, wait.

Maybe it’s just the one food I really don’t like very much.

I’m sorry.

It’s the only real explanation there is.

And believe me when I say how deeply ashamed I am of this.

So deeply ashamed, I’m trying to figure out a way of teaching myself to like it. I mean the fishy options in restaurants really do usually sound the absolute best and most interesting.

I WILL do this.

While on my voyage of fishy discovery, I have decided mussels are good. Actually, scrap that, I initially decided that the creamy, garlicky sauce mussels often come in is good, but I had to start somewhere, right?

And now I genuinely do like to fishy goodness within.

Bizarrely, I also think there is something quite sexy about the actual eating of mussels. All that sucking and licking of fingers. Makes me come over a bit peculiar.

And obviously the fact his fish-hating wife is cooking something from the sea does all sorts of things to Mr. P.

Everybody is a winner.

Such a winner was I on the last night I cooked these, I didn’t have time to take pictures for it all. Or I forgot. Or something. And those that I DID take must have had the ISO set to approximately one million.

Oops.

Take your ingredients: wine, cream, mussels, onion, garlic, celery, salt and pepper.

Melt the butter in a large saucepan.

Add the finely chopped onion…

Celery…

And garlic.

While that gently cooks, prepare the mussels.

Remove any mussels with open or damaged shells, pull off any bits attached to the outside, and wash well.

Add the carton of cream to the onion, garlic, and celery mix, and measure out the same amount in white wine.

Add this to the mix, too.

Add the mussels and put a lid on the saucepan.

Shake the pan well, and look to check. When all the mussels have opened, the dish is ready to serve.

This doesn’t take very long at all, by the way.

Just saying!

Taste the sauce for seasoning, and add salt and pepper accordingly.

I am the voice of experience here: season before the mussels are ready, and you will be in SALT CITY.

Which isn’t so pleasant.

Serve, with a chunk of bread and the rest of the wine.

Remember not to eat any mussels where the shells haven’t opened.

Enjoy!

Mussels with cream sauce
Serves 2. Cooking time 15 minutes.

1 onion
1 stick celery
2 cloves garlic
50g butter
150ml cream
150ml white wine
1kg mussels
Salt and pepper

1. Melt the butter over a low heat.
2. As it melts, finely chop the celery, onion and garlic.
3. Add these to the butter and cook, stirring often.
4. Prepare the mussels, discarding any with damaged or open shells, removing the beads and washing well.
5. Add the cream and the wine to the celery mix, and then the mussels.
6. Place a lid on the pan, and continue to cook over the heat for up to 5 minutes, shaking the pan.
7. When all the mussels have opened, check for seasoning and serve.

Welcome to Eeyore’s kitchen

I am half tempted to rename the Little Pink Kitchen.

The new name shall be ‘Eeyore’s Kitchen’.

Has a certain ring to it, don’t ya think?

My tag-line could be ‘Come to Eeyore’s Kitchen, where everything comes with a side order of blue’.

Well, perhaps not everything; mostly work, if I am honest.

And deep down, somewhere I KNOW that this too shall pass and life will be back to pink in no time at all.

For now, however, the Little Pink Kitchen is making simple, warming food that cheers the soul. It is what is getting me through and stopping me from strangling myself with my headset.

And mostly, the food in the Little Pink Kitchen is doing a very good job of just that. Who knew that food could be so powerful? I certainly didn’t.

If you are feeling blue, can I suggest this soup?

There is something very comforting about a steaming bowl of broth, and I think its impossible to eat spicy things and be glum.

Unless you are one of those types who starts crying and sweating and swearing and bathing in yoghurt at the very sight of a chilli.

For you, leaving the chilli out will be just fine.

Promise.

And for those of you who live in Belfast, this meal will DEFINITELY cheer you up, because it acts a reminder that WAGAMAMA COMES TO BELFAST SOON.

Which, in return, will remind us that we only had to wait 47292 years for it, but it came. Just like the good times will come.

Chin up x

First thing about this soup: it takes a fair bit of chopping. But given the mood we are all in, 20 inches of Japanese steel is a marvellous idea, no?

*waves knife menacingly*

The first victim of the steel is a red pepper. Finely shred it.

Next, some spring onions.

Now The Mothership has a bit of a veg patch on the go*, so I have JUMBO spring onions at the minute. If you are using spring onions of the more standard variety, I would say two would do the trick.

(*understatement of century. She loves her garlic plants more than she loves me, I think. Although it is very tasty garlic, I suppose.)

Also, some coriander. This is from a pot in MY VERY OWN GARDEN*

(*it may or may not have been started in The Mothership’s garden. Maybe.)

Mix the pepper, coriander and onion in a bowl. Doesn’t have to be pink, but it tastes better if it is.

Then you subject some ginger to THE SHREDDING.

And then TAKE THE SHRED TO A WHOLE NEW LEVEL with the chilli, chopping it superfine.

I de-seeded this time.

A little chilli soothes the soul.

A lot, not so much.

But the soul is quite a personal thing, so whatever floats yer boat, matey.

Take the shredded ginger and chilli and mix it with a couple of handfuls of leftover meat. I used lamb, but beef or chicken or tofu or prawns or anything would be fine.

Add some soy, oyster sauce and sugar, too.

At this point the glum mood had sort of taken over a bit, and there are no pictures, but basically what you do is heat the ginger/lamb/chilli/soy/oystersauce/sugar mix until the meat goes all crispy. Simples.

Promise.

I will take pictures of every step.
I will take pictures of every step.
I will take pictures of every step.
I will take pictures of every step.
I will take pictures of every step.
I will take pictures of every step.
I will take pictures of every step.
I will take pict….

The you prepare some greens. I like pak choi (Mothership grown, obviously), but spinach, cabbage or chard would also be good.

Heat up a couple of litres of beef stock. If you have fresh stock, it really is worth using it, but, if not, a cube or bottle is fine.

You see, I am SO not a foodie.

Add the noodles, setting the timer for the amount of time they take to cook minus two minutes.

I like buckwheat soba noodles. Have a bit of bite and I can pretend I’m eating healthily. Score!

Two minutes before the end of the cooking time, add the pak choi.

One the noodles and greens are cooked, season with oyster sauce and soy. Do this a LITTLE BIT AT A TIME.

This time, the shouting isn’t even for comedy effect, its because stocks are all different, and you might not need quite as much as I do.

Or you might need loads more.

Taste it to see.

Then, using tongs, divide the noodles between two large bowls.

Add the shredded veg and coriander, and top with the crispy lamb.

Finally, top with as much of the tasty broth as you wish.

I like loads.

Its the best bit.

Even when you do use a stock cube.

Serve, with a wedge of lime to squeeze, and hopefully, by this stage, a wry smile.

Spicy noodle soup
Serves 2. Cooking time 15 minutes.

2 bunches noodles
1 large or 2 small spring onions
2 heads pak choi
1 red pepper
80g fresh coriander (a large supermarket pack)
15g ginger
1 red chilli
2 tbsp oyster sauce
2 tbsp soy sauce
1 tbsp sugar
100-150g leftover lamb or beef
2l beef stock, made as per packet instructions
1 lime

1. Shred the red pepper, spring onion and coriander, before mixing together in a bowl.
2. Shred the ginger, chilli and meat.
3. Combine with 1 tbsp of the oyster sauce, 1 tbsp of the soy sauce and all of the sugar.
4. Heat the meat mixture in a frying pan until crispy.
5. Prepare the pak choi.
6. Cook the noodles in the beef stock.
7. Two minutes before the end of cooking time, add the pak choi.
8. Once cooked, season the pot with the rest of the oyster sauce and soy, adding more or less to taste.
9. Divide the cooked noodles and pak choi between two bowls.
10. Top with the pepper, coriander and onion, as well as the crispy meat.
11. Add as much of the cooking both as required.
12. Serve, with half a lime to squeeze.

Simple AND spicy. Score!

I think I established a very long time ago that I’m not really a ‘proper’ foodie.

I mean, the salt I’m using at the minute isn’t even from the Himalayas or anything.

It is from France.

But even that is only because I liked the packaging. And everybody knows Maldon is just fine.

I mean, this week, I ate practically an entire packet of SHOP BOUGHT BUNS.

Not even buns that are hard to make at home.

I JUST COULD NOT BE BOTHERED.

GASP! SHOCK!* HORROR!

(*Pre-proof reading, this read SOCK. I’m still laughing inside.)

And on Tuesday, I brought an old chum to Made in Belfast and ATE CHICKEN AND CHIPS AND GRAVY.

Bloody gorgeous it was too.

PHONE THE FOOD POLICE!

This recipe is for all of us who succumb to shop-bought buns and chicken and chips and gravy and who sometimes buy ingredients merely because we like the packaging,

This recipe is for those of us who come home knackered, feeling a bit stabby at the FOOLS who phone us in work, who just want dinner.

This recipe is for those of us in a rush somewhere, for the times when we really want dinner on the table in a hurry.

I mean, this recipe is practically a recipe for empowerment.

OK, not really.

What it is though, is a recipe for quesadillas.

Well, maybe not actual quesadillas, but a little pink version thereof. Something that is quick and easy and can be rustled up when you get home from work in no time at all.

Fantastic.

For pudding, may I suggest a shop bought bun

First up, the ingredients: tortillas, a chicken breast, a cob of corn, a lemon, some mozzarella, cumin, spring onions, dried coriander, salt, pepper, and oil. There is also some fresh coriander here, it’s just that you can’t see it.

It is SO there, though.

Take the chicken breast, and remove the wee ‘flap’. Keep it, it’s delicious, but cutting it off makes the next step easier.

That next step would be cutting the chicken through the middle, but not all the way, so you can sort of open it up, like a book.

Really handy if griddling chicken, because it takes half the time to cook.

Also, if using a boring breast, it means there is a greater surface area to cover with tasty and delicious things.

Marvellous.

The chicken then goes into a bag with some oil and chilli sauce. You could chop a fresh chilli, but this was a sort of storecupboard supper, and I didn’t have any.

I also think the sauce makes for a better marinade.

More…..saucy….

MAN I have a way with words.

then add the dried spices, some salt and pepper, and the zest of the lemon.

Then, zip up the bag and squish it about so that all the chicken is covered in marinade.

I’m clearly going for technical descriptions with this one.

Set the bag to one side, and heat up a griddle pan.

Open all the windows in your kitchen, too. These griddled things are SMOKIN’,

Just sayin’.

Look at me, and my tex-mex cuisine, and I think I can just drop my ‘g’s.

I’m quite the rebel.

Griddle the chicken for a few minutes on either side, so its nice and brown and crispy.

I am impatient, and turn it too early, so will never achieve pretty lines.

I’m fine with that.

Once the chicken is cooked, set it on a plate to cool.

Shuck the corn.

This basically means taking off all the leaves and stuff, but it is one of my favourite phrases in the cookery world.

I don’t know why.

I love it,

When corn isn’t in season, a few tablespoons of the frozen/tinned stuff will suffice, even if we don’t get to talk about shucking it.

After the corn is shucked (YES. I SAID IT AGAIN. ITS MY FAVOURITE. SUE ME.), cut the kernels off using a sharp knife.

If you do this over a bowl, it stops the corn going ALL OVER THE RUDDY KITCHEN.

Ahem.

Voice of experience, that’s all I’m sayin’.

Chop the spring onions.

Yes, mine are a bit mucky. Occupational hazard of the smug, middle-class, organic lifestyle, I guess.

And then chop the mozzarella. Any melty cheese is fine, but Mr P, while being the least fussy person I know, isn’t big on cheese, and mozzarella is SO much nicer than that mild cheddar guff the supermarkets sell.

Also, it means you get a stringy dinner. Score.

Chop up the chicken.

And a couple of handfuls of fresh coriander.

Add this all to the bowl with the corn.

And mix it well, adding salt, pepper, and the juice from the lemon you squeezed earlier.

Lime would be nice, and more authentic, but I got a glut of lemons in the fruit and veg box, so I went with the lemon thing. If using limes, you might need two.

If you like spice, put a bit more chilli sauce on the tortilla.

I was going to write a message to you all on this one, but:

1. I am lazy.
2. It would have resulted in really hot bites then not spicy bites, like dinner roulette.
3. It was a quick dinner, roulette was a bit beyond me.

Then place this tortilla on a frying pan over a lowish heat, and top with the filling.

Not too much filling, because you do have to flip the thing.

Again, with the voice of experience.

Then top this with another tortilla.

Keep the heat fairly low, because you want the cheese to go all melty. This method means the tortillas go all crunchy and delicious, too.

When you peek a look at the bottom and see that it is lovely and brown, flip the thing.

Just do it with confidence, and it will happen.

Promise.

Be timid, and there will be sweetcorn in your hair.

Voice of experience.

Remember?

Cut into wedges to serve.

I did mine with a simple guacamole and a tomato salad.

I think I’m eating as many tomatoes as I can while they are still in season.

Mr P probably has a blog entitled ‘not another sodding tomato salad’.

S’ok, will be over soon.

Untill next summer,

Mwahahaha.

Enjoy!

Chicken and sweetcorn
Serves 2-3. Cooking time 20 minutes.

4 tortillas
1 chicken breast
2 tbsp oil
2 tbsp hot chilli sauce
1 tsp salt
1 tsp dried coriander
1 tsp dried cumin
1 lemon or 2 limes
1 cob corn
1 bunch spring onions
1 handful fresh coriander
Few grinds of pepper
250g cheese of your choice

1. Cut the chicken almost in half, though the middle, but not the whole way.
2. Put in a sandwich bag with the dried coriander, cumin, oil, chilli sauce, the zest of the lemon or limes, and half the salt.
3. Squish it all together, so the chicken is coated.
4. Heat a griddle pan and cook the chicken for 3-5 minutes each side.
5. Place the chicken on a plate to cool.
6. Shuck the corn, and scrape the kernels into a bowl.
7. Chop the spring onion, chicken and cheese, fresh coriander, and add to the bowl with the other half of the salt.
8. Mix well.
9. Spread two of the tortillas with chilli sauce, and place one of these in a heated frying pan.
10. Top with a layer of the filling, and another tortilla.
11. When brown underneath, flip the tortilla.
12. When cooked both sides, slide onto a plate.
13. Repeat with the other tortillas.
14. Cut into wedges and serve.

Mrs P and her tasty tart

I do love a good tart.

*snigger snigger*

You see, I’m laughing already. I really don’t think that my love of a good tart has much to do with food, really, more that I find the name an endless source of amusement.

Tart tart tart. here is Mrs. P, with her tasty tart. Would you like some tart? It’s a little bit spicy…

*combusts with mirth*

Childish giggling at the name aside, tarts, I find are awfully good for a spot of informal catering. They have that quality of being able to be brought to the table to rapturous applause (even if it is only in my head), and I find there really is something a little special about that.

I made this particular tart for a gathering of the families. We go to France together very early in the morning, and it was one last chance to prove that we aren’t all going to kill each other.

For the tart making, I even decamped the Little Pink Kitchen to the mother-in law’s Big Cream Kitchen.

A Big, Cream Kitchen, indeed.

I feel like I have cheated a little bit on you guys, and I am very sorry for the wrong I have done.

Rest assured I came home and gave all my lovely pink things a little stroke. I think they have forgiven me.

Maybe.

*crosses fingers*

I’ll report back on how the whole ‘family holiday’ thing goes in a week, once I have apologised to my kitchen for using a LITTLE FRENCH KITCHEN for a whole week.

For now, here is the tart I made for that dinner.

Firstly, I poured a glass of champagne, I was making champagne jelly and it would have been rude not to finish it off.

I then got a butternut squash. And laughed.

Because as well as finding the word ‘tart’ amusing, I also find butternut squashes highly amusing vegetables.

The fun never ends with me.

Honest.

After I composed myself, and took a swig of champagne, I peeled and chopped the butternut squash.

I suggest you do the same.

Both the champagne and the chopping.

Before putting it on to steam. I guess roasting the thing is an option, too. If you are feeling fancy.

I like to live out my fanciful whims through swigs of champagne, rather than butternut squashes, but I shall leave that decision to you.

Take a big bag of spinach.

To the gods of organic, free-range spinach, I am very sorry.

I bought a bag in Sainburys.

As well as cheating on my kitchen, I cheated on my morals.

Goodness only knows what will happen in France. It’s likely to be OFF THE HOOK, no matter.

Chop the evil, supermarket bought vegetable spinach…

And put it in a pan with some butter.

I forgot to take a picture of the butter, but rest assured, it’s there.

It usually is.

After it is all nicely cooked down, grate in a LOT of nutmeg, and add some salt and pepper if you are that way inclined.

Then put the spinach in a sieve, to drain out excess water.

By this stage, your butternut squash should be cooked.

Put it in a bowl and mash it up.

Mash it up goooooooood, baby.

Add some lovely spices, along with some salt.

And a big dollop of creme fraiche.

And then mix it all up.

Mix it up gooooooooood, baby.

Move kitchens to your mother-in-laws at this point if you really want.

But be sure to melt some butter.

Use the butter to grease a baking tray, before adding a sheet of filo pastry.

Then add more butter, and another sheet.

You want about 3 or 4 sheets of pastry.

Then add the drained spinach mixture.

Before laying yet another 3 or 4 sheets of pastry and butter.

Then, add the spiced squash mixture.

If you fancy it, a layer of feta or goat’s cheese would be delicious here, but there are some anti-cheese types in my family, so I didn’t bother.

Next time.

Top with another 3 or 4 layers of pastry and butter…

And then mark with a knife into portions.

Bake in a lovely hot oven until golden brown.

And then serve.

On a GREEN plate.

Honestly *shakes head*

And with that, I am off on my holibobs.

See you guys soon!

Spinach and butternut squash tart
Cooking time 1 hour. Serves 8.

2 packs filo pastry
1 butternut squash
260g pack spinach
150g butter
2 tbsps creme fraiche
Half a nutmeg
2 tbsps dried coriander
2 tbsps dried cumin
2 tsp ras el hanout
Salt and pepper

1. Peel and chop the squash, and steam until tender. This should take about 15 minutes.
2. Chop the spinach, and cook in a knob of the butter until wilted.
3. Grate in the nutmeg and add salt and pepper to taste.
4. Place in a sieve and press down, squeezing out excess water.
5. Once the squash is cooked, mash with the spices and creme fraiche, seasoning if necessary.
6. Melt the butter.
7. Brush the bottom of a baking tray, add a layer of filo, and totally cover with more butter.
8. Repeat until 3 layers are built up.
9. Add the spinach, covering with three more layers of butter and pastry.
10. Spread the butternut squash over the pastry, and then cover with three more layers of butter and pastry, finishing with butter.
11. Lightly score the tart into sections.
12. Bake at 180 degrees for 30 minutes, or until golden brown.

The one without the peaches.

The rest of the food blogging world is currently blogging and tweeting and all sorts about flat peaches.

Flat peaches, I tell you.

Peaches. That are flat.

Well, I tell you one thing, I am not.

This is because I live in Belfast. The local greengrocer isn’t a likely candidate for a peach that is flat (he still looks at my like I’m a bit shifty when I ask about ginger), the veg box doesn’t have them (Helen’s bay is lovely, but not exactly peach growing territory), and, while I might strike gold at St. George’s market on Saturday or Sunday, it’s an awful lot of effort for a peach. Even if it is a flat one.

Instead I shall write about things that actually happen in a real person’s kitchen.

This week, for me, it was this tasty pork and aubergine stir-fry.

I adore this stir fry. Its been totally bastardised from a vaguely authentic Chinese recipe to one I can knock up in a few minutes in my kitchen at home, using ingredients I can buy round the corner.

Perfect.

Line up the ingredients: pork mince, an aubergine, ginger, garlic, soy sauce, Marsala/sherry/chinese rice wine, cornflour, sugar and oil.

For once, lining up the ingredients is actually kinda important. With stir-fried things, its best to have everything to hand, because you are cooking so quickly. I knew these ingredients shots would come in handy one day *does dance of VICTORY*

Take the ginger and garlic and peel it. Yes, I know the garlic isn’t actually peeled in this picture, but that makes it awfully pretty.

Grate it finely.

TOP TIP! Do the garlic first, and then you don’t get so much of that garlicky fingers smell for the rest of the day. Although, if you cook with as much garlic as I do, your friends and family are probably used to it.

Anyway.

Cut the aubergine into batons. You can discard the seedy bit if you really want, but I never bother. Lazy, I am.

Combine the soy, water, sugar and booze in a bowl.

I used Marsala, because that is what I had. Dry sherry or Chinese rice wine are also good here. Whatever is lying around/ available in the shop at the end of the street, basically. This is the dinner we are aiming for, remember? If you are going to get all fancy and go to the Asian supermarket, you might as well eat flat peaches.

Mix the cornflour with a little water in a mug.

Heat the oil in a wok.

Add the ginger/garlic mush.

Break it up quickly with a spoon, like so.

Add the pork mince, breaking it up, too.

I have no idea why these pictures are so close up by the way. I must have been hungry and on the verge of climbing into the pan of food, cursing my need to take pictures of it all.

Now, add the soy mix. Don’t wait until the mince is browned. The flavour and texture are nicer this way. I promise that for once, it has nothing to do with my own laziness.

Well, almost nothing.

If I wasn’t lazy, I would have had rice wine, not Marsala.

Then, add the aubergines.

Stir it all up well.

Turn the heat down. If you have a fancy wok with a lid, put the lid on about now. If you use a cheapo Asian supermarket wok, create a lid out of tin foil. Like so.

After about ten minutes, take the tin foil hat off.

And add the cornflour mixture.

Stir well, cooking for just a couple of minutes longer.

Serve, with rice and steamed greens.

Pork and aubergine stir fry
Serves 4. Cooking time 20 minutes.

4 cloves garlic
Piece of ginger the size of your thumb
4 tbsp chinese rice wine/Marsala/dry white wine
4 tbsp soy sauce
100ml water
2 tbsp sugar
250g pork mince
1 aubergine
2 tbsp cornflour
2 tbsp oil

1. Peel and grate the ginger and garlic.
2. Cut the aubergine into batons.
3. Combine the soy sauce, Marsala, water and sugar in a bowl.
4. In another bowl or mug, combine the cornflour with a splash of water.
5. Heat the oil in a wok.
6. Add the ginger and garlic, stirring quickly to break it up.
7. Add the pork mince, stirring quickly, followed by the sauce soy mixture.
8. Add the aubergine, stirring well.
9. Turn the heat down, and cover with a lid or tin foil.
10. Simmer for 10 minutes.
11. Remove the lid or foil and stir in the cornflour mix, allowing to heat through.
12. Serve.

A quick supper

Since I’ve already told you guys I’m not an Italian mama, not, for that matter, an American mama, I figured this blog post might be dedicated to the fact the I am not an Indian mama.

I figured I could maybe start a series on the things I am not.

Ya know, I’m not mexican but here is my version of guacamole.

Or, I’m not that funny, so I made these whoopie pies because I figured the name would amuse my guests.

But then, I saw the light and realised you WOULD ALL DIE OF TERMINAL BOREDOM.

So I wised up and ate a doughnut.

And realised I am someone with a full-time job who sometimes just needs to come home and use up whatever is languishing in the fridge.

Its not authentic, but this curry used up what was in my fridge during one of those moments last week. It tasted really flipping amazing as well, so its a winner by me.

Its lovely by itself with naan bread, but would also be lovely as part of a wider curry feast, I reckon.

Enjoy!

I started with all my ingredients: potatoes, half a cauliflower, mustard seeds, turmeric, chickpeas, garam masala, coconut cream, ginger, garlic, chilli, oil, vegetable stock, spinach, onion, crikey, these Indian-inspired dishes take quite the ingredients list. I’m going to have to get me a wide-angle lens if I keep this up.

Anyways, no wide-angle lens required for a picture of ginger peeling, and that is how you start.

Peel the garlic, as well.

And hack the stalk off the chilli. If spice isn’t your thing, you could remove the seeds, too.

Then put all three in some kind of electrified chopping device *sings Grease songs about ELECTRIFYING*

Or, you could just use a knife.

Heat some oil in a pan. I used groundnut, but any kind of mild oil works. Promise.

Add your ELECTRIFIED bits and pieces.

Must talk sense. I’ll stop it with the ELECTRIFIED talk now.

ELECTRIFIED.

Clearly I can’t help myself. Sorry.

Add the mustard seeds…

And some turmeric.

Turn down the heat and let that all fry away, while you cut the onion into chunks. Add this to the pan.

Then break the cauliflower into small florets.

And peel and chop the potatoes into smallish dice.

Add both of these to the saucepan, along with some spinach.

I keep frozen spinach because I am actually Popeye, and love the stuff. If you want to use fresh, go right ahead.

Give the whole lot a good big stir….

Before adding some coconut cream…

And some vegetable stock.

Allow the pot to simmer away uncovered untill the vegetables are cooked.

Forget to take a picture.

Oops. Clearly I was not ELECTRIFIED.

Add the chickpeas and garam masala, and cook until the chickpeas are warmed through.

Serve.

Potato, cauliflower and chickpea curry
Serves 4. Cooking time 30 minutes.

5cm piece ginger
3-5 cloves garlic
1 green chilli
2 tbsp oil
1 onion
1/2 cauliflower
500g potatoes
300g frozen spinach
1 carton coconut cream
2 tsp mustard seeds
2 tsp turmeric
2 tsp garam masala
250ml vegetable stock

1. Peel the garlic and ginger and de-stalk the chilli. Chop finely.
2. Heat the oil in a pan and add the garlic, ginger and chilli.
3. Add the mustard seeds and turmeric and turn down the heat.
4. Peel and chop the onion and add to the pan.
5. Break the cauliflower into florets and peel and chop the potatoes.
6. Add to the pan, along with the spinach, coconut cream and vegetable stock.
7. Allow to simmer for about 15 minutes, until the potatoes are tender.
8. Add the garam masala and drained chickpeas, and cook for a few minutes to warm through.
9. Serve.