and this little piggy...

More speedy suppers. 

One

Roast pork belly with rice and veggies, hot. I ate all the crackling in one go, standing in the kitchen, gnawing on the non-crispy stub until my teeth begged for mercy.

As I tidied & washed up I took out an oven dish and put the rest of a the leftover rice as a bed, with slices of cold pork on top.  Foil over, in the fridge.

Two

Day two, home late, I put the oven on to 200 degrees and bunged in the porky-rice dish, still foil covered. I wandered back after 25 mins or so and cooked some frozen peas to throw over.  The pork had softened up and its fat lubricated the rice.  Gorge-pants.

Three

The last 4 or 5 slices of cold pork went into the oven for 25 mins, on high.  As before, it released its tasty fat and also crisped up the edges.  I cooked noodles (you need more than one sheet, one is never quite enough) with chunky-sliced leeks; drained them, then tipped the noodles & leek into the hot pork dish. A modest glug of toasted sesame oil and a less modest slick of soy sauce perfected it all.  A quick stir then down the hatch.

Disclaimer: if you have a hot lime pickle problem, you will already know that this condiment goes well with all these dishes.  Because lime pickle goes with almost anything if you have a pash on it.

yule have a good time

I was in such agonies choosing only two pictures to illustrate Christmas. I have so many of the lunch itself, over the years, that I thought I would make a break and show the behind-the-scenes; after all, we spend so much more time on the lead up and preparation than the actual meal itself!

So here is the cranberry sauce in process, with peeled, prepared vegetables - and the hot ham lunch to reward us after.

This year the storms meant we skipped some last minute shopping in favour of staying dry and off the road. We walked to the village to scour pre-apocalyptic shelves bereft of goods and managed to salvage our smoked salmon on Christmas Eve tradition, and also found the last bag of prunes for our lovely, lovely devils on horseback (pre-lunch, Christmas Day).  This year Ma called them 'devils-on-donkeys' which, unfortunately, stuck.

Some things had to be jettisoned though, so instead of using orange juice and zest in the cranberry sauce, I slugged in some sloe gin, and would do it again next year.

Cooking the ham on Christmas Eve is a practical move, so it is ready for next day's lunch - and saves space in the oven the next day. More, though, it is such a lovely simple meal to have when most other meals are rich or erratic or just not part of a usual routine. My Mother is always the Christmas cook; although I learnt from her I sometimes forget how very simply she can cook - and how surprisingly tasty this is. This year the ham was roasted, very plain, and served just with boiled potatoes and white cabbage.  The intense saltiness of the meat provided all the flavour the dish needed. 

The ends of the joint were sticky with almost burnt fat, and when no one was looking I pulled at the fat and ate it up. 

routine, interrupted

Christmas lunch reminds me of school and how we used to spend the hour before school Christmas lunch making hats to wear. 

Hats!

The full turkey roast in a pub today at 3pm was terrific and made me very happy, but I was so confused when I wasn't hungry again by 6 pm. My routine - if it deserves such a name - was interrupted!

This is my quail's eggs and nacho supper. It hit the spot all right. The dusty stuff in the dish is celery salt, adding another dimension to the eggs, as this season adds a salty pinch of zest to the cold, dark winter.

chicken and rice re-vamped

A little addenda to previous chicken and rice mentions.

I got boring about a very plain chicken recipe some years back, re-ignited my love of it when Melly Bo said it was basically the same as Asian chicken and rice, sans rice (such nice comfort knowing it is a family staple somewhere else), and then promptly forgot all about it.

A year or so later Rosie, staunch robust little Rosie, actually gave in to being tired and unwell and said she'd love to eat something like it: soupy, savoury and nourishing.  Well it only takes chicken pieces, water and a handful of any veg so I gussied some up for her in no time and have been back on the wagon ever since.

Last night I made enough for four frugal portions: 4 big chicken thighs, 6 chunky cut carrots, 3 leeks cut in wedges and a heavy grind of pepper, covered in water and simmered for 40 minutes or so.  Three portions were boxed up for another time.  With the remaining portion, I threw half a cup of rice in the cooking water for the last ten minutes, and some shredded cabbage, making perfect chicken and rice.  I ate it with a dash of English mustard and a nod to Nigella and her 'Praised chicken'.

Tonight I got home late and tired yet again, and was pleased for a little chicken dish waiting.  Having had rice at lunchtime too, I needed a change.  I am simply so excited about this: how easy and speedy it was, and how very filling!

The little portion of plain stewed chicken heated up in no time.  When it was at a simmer I pushed in a scant bowl of pasta shapes (peculiar little ones I get from my local shop, small enough to cook in 6 minutes) and a leftover few florets of broccoli.  After six or seven minutes the pasta was ready and I had an unctuous, soupy mix; into this I grated some parmesan, plonked on a couple of heaped teaspoons of wholegrain mustard and set to.

Perfect.

payday treats

A supernaturally bright, November day in which it would be hard to be anything but cheerful.

Also, I realised, the day after payday!  So I celebrated with a walk in the sunshine to Arloe and Moe, where I enjoyed their excellent coffee and some 'sexy toast' (avo and feta: it works just ever so well); this spun into a long break, reading my book, drinking coffee, feeling the sun through the window beating into my bones. 

Then onwards for MORE pay day treats: the market! Here is my haul, all for under ten pounds, I think.

Those are field mushrooms to be fried with butter and garlic and put on toast, for breakfast. There were organic hens eggs for the pantry - and, very likely, to make a week night, working-girl carbonara with.

Pears, eating apples and Bramleys for porridge, stewing, making into crumble, lunchboxes - anything else? The carrots are destined for a winter stew with lamb and rosemary, or a warming chickpea and chorizo version, and the cauli... well the cauliflower could just be steamed and eaten as is. Or its modesty semi-covered by a blanket of cheese sauce.  I could rhapsodise all night about King Cauli's clean flavour and grainy florettes. 

Cauliflower is one of my favourite vegetables.

Indian summer

Unexpected nirvana found on a sunny back doorstep.

Mint tea and Middle Eastern treats* whilst looking up a favourite stew in a favourite cook book. And stewing steak in the kitchen, ready to cook!  Quite unexpectedly the grey, chilly days have blossomed into picture book autumn: so hot that I am in my birthday dress, worn on the first day of July's heat wave (as I recall it, anyhow). Arms bare to the sun. It feels good.

* at a guess, sponge made with ground almonds, covered in cashew and pistachio nuts and doused in a honey, rose water syrup.  Baklava-lite, if you like.

two hungry bees

Just a tiny word about the most delicious Vietnamese meal.  Saturday night saw me at the Hill Station Cafe, attending a pop up evening hosted by Two Hungry Bees (find out about them on Twitter as @twohungreybees).  I have walked past the Hill Station many times and, day or night, it is always inviting, buzzing with activity.  But each time I walk on and think 'soon! Another time'.

But back to the food.  I had that wonderful experience - rare as an adult - of tasting new flavours and ingredients.  An inauspicious nettle-looking leaf with a very distinctive flavour (Red Perilla) was beneath some shredded salad; we wrapped it all up in the leaf and dunked it in the dipping sauce.  Heaven!  Later, making our own summer rolls I found the pretty 'heartleaf' to add in with the salad.

New, too, were combinations of flavours, which made me completely redress the way I look at some very ordinary ingredients.  Zinging herbs, chilli, lime, noodles - all turned into something quite new when put together.  I have no idea what is in it, but always, always I love the thin, astringent dipping sauce for spring and summer rolls.  New to me too was the rice pancake we wrapped the summer roll in, with its improbable thin, brittle texture transforming into sticky cling film, in which to envelop a modest few items.  Rice pancake and vegetables with a few flakes of salmon somehow transformed into the most fresh, flavourful mouthfuls. The stock to make Pho is a mystery to me - and can stay that way, as long as I can get to Mo Pho or the Two Hungry Bees market stall once in a while!

But most of all that evening, I enjoyed the warmth.  Our hosts talked about their family food and demonstrated how dishes are usually eaten.  From this lovely, intimate presentation, to the welcoming people I sat with who shared their evening with me, to the pretty Cafe itself, which always exudes laughter.  Only this time, I was on the inside.