My Spring Picnic

Snow Edgware Road this week

I do love a challenge occasionally, keeps the mind attuned and the reflexes sharp. So when I got an email from Sopexa Marketing asking if I'd like to participate in a blogger challenge organised by BIVB to match Chablis with take away food I thought hmmm, could be interesting.

I pondered the characteristics of Chablis - it's steely minerality, the lack of oak making it elegantly bone dry rather than luscious, a wonderfully austere wine for our time of austerity. Made entirely of Chardonnay grapes it is grown in vineyards in the northern part of Burgundy in limestone soil formed in the Jurassic era from the fossils of small oysters. As Andrew Jefford says in The New France: "It smells of smoke and stone and winter air; it tastes as quick and fresh as a chill, pebbly stream tumbling off a dark, rain-draped mountain. Do you doubt the influence of soil on wine flavour? If you do, buy yourself a bottle of chablis."

So far so fabulous. But taking the specific brief to match to takeaway things suddenly got a little more challenging. My undoubted favourite takeaway place is Green Valley, just off the Edgware Road, a positive cornucopia of all food Middle Eastern. I worked nearby for a while, and on occasional sunny Fridays the office would decamp to Hyde Park for wonderfully decadent picnics. We'd buy takeaway tubs of hummus and tabouli, smoky aubergine moutabal, olives, warm falafel, shards of spicy lamb shawarma and plenty of flat bread. It was the first time I ate heart of palm and it was here I discovered mujadarrah - the surprisingly delicate combination of lentils, rice and fried onions. There would be wine, too, not vast amounts but a glass to enjoy as we ate and chatted. I could see how a chablis might work well with this kind of food, its warm spicing working well with the minerality of the wine. Not the lamb perhaps, but the falafels and salads seemed like a possible.

Though we are but a week from spring, the weather is far too poor to be conducive to being outside. The idea of a picnic was simply wrong - rain, cold, snow, wind, no, thrice definitely no. And yet the idea niggled at me as things went from bad to worse... somehow, I thought, I might have a picnic, surely I could have a picnic, really I must have a picnic....

Dammit I will have a picnic! I dug out the picnic rug and set off for Green Valley.

Green Valley's shop window - how seductive is that?!

Nuts and Dates, take as much as you need

This is undoubtedly one of the great food shops of London. They have a large butcher's counter, a bakery for flat breads, an enormous rotisserie cooking dozens of chickens and two slowly rotating swords - one of spiced lamb shawarma and one of chicken. They sell a vast array of wonderful ingredients and you are free to buy as much or as little as you need.

What an array!

 And then, at the back of the shop, there is this extraordinary salad counter, literally piled high with wonderful fresh food, dozens of trays of beautifully made offerings. They sell the lot by the end of each day, tomorrow will always have a new selection.

How to choose?

 I resisted the temptation to buy some of everything - but only just! I decided a vegetarian feast was needed - gorgeous crispy falafel, aubergine dip, tahini sauce, vibrantly fresh herb tabbouli to match the zing of the wine. A pile of bread of course and olives, hummus too. And baklava too, to finish, it's gorgeous nutty syrup crispness simply irresistible.

Still pretty bleak at Hyde Park Corner

 Perhaps spring was watching, as the sun did come out briefly, but not with any warmth.

Picnic!

Chablis - it was a great accompaniment

 What a lovely spread we had, who could ask for anything more?

The makings of a fine falafel roll

Dinner - with Masterchef on the tele!

 It has to be said the man was a little surprised to find dinner served on a rug but with the heating on and the curtains closed it might have been spring outside!

Nice Pick For A Picnic!

 The Chablis worked very well with the spread of food, we particlarly enjoyed the zing it brought to the party.

Here's hoping spring arrives here soon...

In the meantime you can find Green Valley just off the Edgware Road at 36-37 Upper Berkeley St  Marylebone, London W1H 5QF

You can find Chablis at all good wine merchants.

Oaty Fruit and Nut Breakfast Squares

Phwaaaaaaah! It's cold out there. It's the middle of March and it's snowing. I'm not thinking salads and barbecue I'm desperately wanting porridge.

I do love porridge, the comfort of big bowls of steaming hot oats with syrup and  cream, or brown sugar and butter, even granulated sugar and milk should not be underestimated. My mum would make them for us in winter in Australia - possibly didn't require a huge stockpile of raw oats! - but I recall that start to the day with a warm fug of pleasure. It was my dad who taught me to dot the top with brown sugar and butter, a habit the man still views with a kind of fascinated horror as he adds milk to his bowl.

Started eating hot porridge with serious intent in my first London winter, easy, cheap, healthy and a good way to come to terms with how short the days were, how little light was available, how cold the wind was. But even then it was only weekends and holidays, like everyone breakfast has to be quick and simple, requiring neither time nor attention from me. To make anything beyond coffee is simply too much faff. It's not that I think we're too busy for breakfast it's just too daunting a prospect to be that coordinated straight out of bed. Truth be told I am not a morning person....

Week day breakfast is really the least interesting meal of the day round ours. There might be cereal and milk, or, if I've got it together over the weekend, rhubarb with yoghurt. Two things in a bowl, eat, go. But Sunday, knowing that cold was coming, I wondered about trying something new. I had a fresh pack of Flahavan oats, an Irish brand that I discovered at a tasting with Bord Bia a while ago, that are wonderfully creamy thngs, so good in fact I once gave a kilo pack and a wooden spoon to a friend for Christmas - what can I say, some people are hard to buy for. At least it was a surprise.

I also had a Nigella recipe for  breakfast bars, about which she says 'they are just like milk and cereal in bar form, so there's nothing to stop you nibbling at one with your morning coffee at home every day. If you are not a morning person, believe me, they will make your life easier.' 

I didn't have a lot of the exact ingredients but did have similar.

Oaty Fruit & Nut Breakfast Squares

397 grams condensed milk  - ie one standard tin

250 grams rolled oats (not instant)

75 grams desiccated coconut

100 grams dried apricots, roughly chopped

125 grams Mixed Seeds (pumpkin, sunflower, sesame)

125 grams natural unsalted mixed nuts – peanuts, brazils, almonds and walnuts

Preheat the oven to 130°C/gas mark 1/2, and oil a 23 x 33 x 4cm baking tin, or use a throwaway foil one.

Warm the condensed milk in a small pan over a low heat.

Meanwhile, mix together all the other ingredients and then add the warmed condensed milk, using a rubber or wooden spatula to fold and distribute.

Spread the mixture into the tin and press down with the spatula, fork or, better still, your hands (wearing disposable vinyl gloves to stop you sticking), to even the surface.

Bake for 1 hour, then remove from the oven onto a cooling rack. After about 15 minutes, cut into chunky squares and let them cool completely in the tin.

I am so very glad I made these, breakfast this week is new and different - grab just the one thing, eat and go!

Olive Oil Chocolate Sponge Cake

I love olive oil. Like garlic and salt I am never without some, it is one of my absolute must haves in the kitchen. Last week I emptied the last of my 3 litre tin into my 500ml bottle and felt a tiny bit anxious that I might run out before I had been to the market to buy another 3 litre tin. I don't really like using cheap olive oils, they don't bring enough to the food, particularly not to salad dressings.

You might think that's a slightly mad assertion but I went to a tasting of Spanish olive oils recently and it was fascinating how different the oils were and how much the flavour changed depending on what - if anything - was eaten with it. I used to associate olive oil exclusively with Italy but in fact Spain is the world's major olive oil produceer and the ones I tried were extraordinary in their diversity. The oils were poured out into wine glasses, first to be sniffed and then savoured in the mouth, swilling gently and breathing through the oil to really appreciate the full flavour. The oils ran the gamut of sweet, through bitter to incredibly spicy though interestingly the smell and the taste didn't always match. Surprised me! The other surprising thing I learnt was that one litre is the average annual consumption of olive oil here in the UK. Given that the man and I get through about 12 litres, I'm worrying there are people out there who are seriously missing out!

There was a time when I thought the microwaved chocolate cake, ready in minutes, was an internet joke gone viral. Turns out it really works - and I know that because I recently got my first oven which, amongst a gazillion other functions, microwaves things. If  I'm honest I am still a bit trepidatious around it, but I'm delighted to say that making this yummy little cake is a decidedly tasty way to get a grip!

Olive Oil Chocolate Sponge Cake

The olive oil makes the cake lovely and moist and the cocoa makes it lovely and chocolatey - definitely a good combination

4 tablespoons plain flour
4 tablespoons caster sugar
2 tablespoons cocoa powder
1 egg
3 tablespoons milk
3 tablespoons olive oil
A tiny pinch of baking powder
A little cinnamon or vanilla, optional

Put all the ingredients in a bowl and mix well. Grease the sides of a 400ml bowl or cup and pour the mixture in. Microwave at maximum power (800-1000 watts) for 3 minutes. Remove from the oven and tip the cake onto a plate. 

Consume immediately! A dollop of cream or jam is optional.

Anzac Biscuits

I read some of the food boards on the web. Sometimes I learn a few things, other times I contribute something I know to the discusssion. One asked, the other day, what a woman could send her boyfriend on his tour of duty in Afghanistan. Something that would be a treat but would not spoil or be any other kind of disappointment on its arrival. Had to be Anzac biscuits.

Ate them all the time as a kid, an endless staple in school lunchboxes, that once I got to be about 12 I would make myself as my contribution to the week. Easy as they are I was still very pleased with myself when they turned out golden and chewy and fabulous.

April 25th every year we would march in the Anzac Parade, a day of national remembrance for the 8,000 soldiers who died in Gallipoli in their disastrous attempt to conquer Constantinople in the first world war.

Took me a while to make the connection between the bikkies and the parade but eventually I did wonder how they could both be Anzac. Their origins are somewhat murky. The story that seems most likely - or at least the one that I like the most - is that the wives and loved ones left at home made these to send overseas. There is nothing in them to spoil, so they would arrive pretty much as they had been sent to have bring joy to their recipients, carrying the love with which they were made from one side of the world to the other.

It has been years since I've eaten one let alone made a batch. I'm delighted to say they tasted as good as I remember - and the man loved them too which surprised me a little. Claims he doesn't like coconut.

Anzac Biscuits

The golden syrup adds a rich depth of sweetness, the bicarb makes it fizz like honeycomb.

Makes 24

1 cup rolled oats
1 cup plain flour
1 cup caster sugar
1 cup dessicated coconut
125g butter
2 tbspn golden syrup
1 tbspn water
1tspn bicarbonate of soda

Preheat the oven to 180C/Gas 4.

Line a baking tray with parchment.

Mix the oats, flour, sugar and coconut in a large bowl.

Put the butter, syrup and water into a small pan and stir over a medium heat till the butter melts into the syrup. Stir in the bicarbonate of soda - it will make the mix fizz up to the top of the pan. Take it off the heat.

Stir the butter syrup into the dry ingredients and mix well. You will have a mix that is ever so slightly crumbly rather than wet.

Drop teaspoonfuls into little mounds onto the baking tray a couple of centimetres apart - they will spread as they bake.

Cook for 15-20 minutes until golden. Cool on a rack before eating.

They will keep in an airtight tin for a very long time, though I've never been able to resist them to find out quite how long.


They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

Rice Paper Wraps

I have been eating versions of these little rolls for years and I have yet to get over the delight. They are cold - this still strikes me as amazing, not sure why. The translucent wrappers make the contents mysterious and beautiful and incredibly tempting. They always appear to be filled with treasure. Wrapped tightly they don't spill anywhere but rather are perfect for dipping into little bowls of sauce. They have the most extraordinary texture - the wrappers offer a very slight resistance to being bitten and then the filling is mostly raw and so is crunchy and slippery and soft cut through with generous amounts of herbs, in this case coriander and tiny speckles of heat from finely chopped chillies. Simply gorgeous.

Rice Paper Wraps

1/2 chinese cabbage, very finely shredded
2 cups bean sprouts, rinsed and picked over to lose their stringy tails
1 red pepper, deseeded and finely sliced
4 spring onions, topped and tailed then sliced into thin ribbons
1/2 large cucumber, peeled then sliced into very thin batons
1 large ( because they are milder) red and green chillies, sliced into thin rings
Serious handful of coriander leaves
1/2 cup raw peanuts, toasted till golden then roughly pounded in a pestle and mortar
1 teaspoon sesame oil
1 teaspoon salt
24 rice paper wrappers

Mix all the ingredients, except the wrappers, in a large bowl.

Fill a flattish bowl with hot water then soak a sheet of rice paper till it softens - a few seconds. Lay it flat on a board, put a line of filling down the centre, then fold over first one edge then the other, and finally the ends to make little parcels.

Put a piece of damp kitchen paper onto a plate and put the finished roll on top. This will stop them drying out. Keep making rolls and adding them to the plate till all are done.
Refrigerate for an hour or so then serve with your favourite dipping sauce.

Seriously summer on a plate.

Scotch Egg

I love scotch eggs. Never heard of them, let alone tried one before coming to London and now I am happy to publicly declare love. Obviously, like all objects of affection they vary from the utterly disgusting to the thoroughly sublime. The former can be illustrated by those sold in most supermarkets - especially the 'mini' variety and most definitely the bizarre 'egg roll' version where some unspecified ground bits from a pig encase 'egg' that is simply one long tube of yellow inside another tube of white to create a metre length roll encased in crumb to be bought by the slice. Wrong.

Then there are the ones I buy sometimes from Ginger Pig with a proper tasty egg in the centre of well spiced minced pork in a lovely crispy crumby coating. Sliced into quarters it makes for an intensely savoury snack after shopping at Borough Market. They remained my favourite until an evening spent courtesy of the Sherry Institute of Spain where I learned a lot about sherry and the pairing was done by the incomparable Heston Blumenthal. He served up quail's eggs wrapped in pork mince to go with, I think, amontillado, and they came out warm with the yolk still runny and they stayed in my mind as a truly lovely thing to eat.

Last night I progressed further on my journey of the scotch egg. Qype organised a sort of masterclass in the finer arts of this peculiarly British treat at the Coach & Horses in Clerkenwell, led by their talented and charming young chef, Henry Herbert. With sixteen of us gathered in a back room of this charming pub he gave an intro to the egg - and the generally accepted anecdote that the first scotch egg was made by Fortnum & Mason for one of their clients looking for a handheld snack to sup on as they travelled. They were presented with an egg wrapped in haggis before crumbing and deep frying, hence the 'scotch' connection. There are other stories, that they are from a Scottish breakfast, or that 'scotch' is meant as a verb in relation to the egg, the hiding of it being I guess like the use of scotch in relation to rumour. Who knows.

Moving swiftly on Henry demonstrated his mix. Pork shoulder and belly minced together for optimum flavour is the base. Add, in quantities that seem right, mace - preferably freshly ground, cayenne - the hotter the better, chopped sage because pork and sage are lovely together, caremalised shallots because the only thing nicer than pork and sage is pork with sage and onion, some Colemans mustard because this is an English dish, a generous grinding of black pepper and lastly a serious quantity of salt.

Henry posited the theory that the key to well cooked food is simply the addition of the appropriate amount of salt, it is what will make the dish work, and that it is simply fallacy to add none or not much on the basis that salt can be added after serving and it will achieve the same effect. Makes a lot of sense to me.

After that lot was thoroughly mixed we got to join in the fun. We peeled hardboiled eggs and got ourselves a lump of mince mix - approximately 50g each - while Henry went round and gave each of us a sheet of clingfilm. This is chef secret time. In the middle of the sheet of film flatten the meat into a vague circle/oval and put the egg in the middle of that. Using the clingfilm a bit like a sushi mat guide the meat around the outside of the egg till it is fully encased (scotched perhaps!).

Then for the coating. Try to remember to use both hands but only one at a time keeping one dry and using the other for dipping in milky egg ( a process that is harder than it sounds!). With what will be the dry hand first roll your egg in seasoned flour. Take it out with your other hand - soon to be the wet one - and dip it in a bowl of milk and eggs whisked together. Still using the wet hand, take the egg from that bowl and put it into a bowl of finely ground breadcrumbs. Swap hands (!) and roll the egg round till its coated in crumbs with the dry hand. Take the egg from the bowl with the wet hand and put it into the beaten egg again. Roll it round till it is once again covered in a film of liquid take it out - still the wet hand - and drop it into a bowl of coarse breadcrumbs. With the dry hand make sure the egg is thoroughly covered. Use whichever hand you have spare to remove the crumbed egg - unless you're making more than one, in which case keep repeating the process till you're done.

At this point all the eggs, an interesting collection of shapes and sizes, were collected up on a tray and whisked away to the kitchen to be deep fried in groundnut oil at 180C for about 5 minutes, then finished in the oven for about 7 minutes.

They reappeared crisp, golden and hot. The perfect ones had a slightly runny yolk when cut open. Eat immediately with fingers licked at the end.

Brilliant. My new equal favourite.