FOOD:THANK GOD IT'S OVER. That was the longest January in history. It seemed to drag on and on, each day more misery guts than the one before.
Things got so bad on the cooking front that one evening, the family were given only Brussels sprouts for their dinner. It was just such a grim month and every where you turned, things were dreadfully sad. But it comes to a stage where you have to get going again. The evenings get longer and if you look carefully enough, you start to notice examples of people being really kind to each other.
I don’t mean to sound soppy, but I have been blown away by the little things people are doing for each other and how this can make such a difference to our moods and outlook. It’s hard not to scan the papers or listen to the news, desperately trying to extract some glimmer of hope from all the doom and gloom – which inevitably you just can’t find.
Analysts and economists shirk away from the “R” word (recovery), but history tells us that these things do eventually come to an end. They are cyclical, white-knuckle rides, but when put into context, we are very lucky. Our country is not involved in a bitter war, and life here continues to plod along.
Kids mindfully talk about the recession as though it’s a bout of bad weather, wondering when the grown-ups will want to play outside again. Us grown-ups can’t quite fathom sunshine. But we should, because human nature is such that we will eventually want to break free from this cycle.
To get back into the swing of things, I have two very homely dishes that might put a little sunshine back on to our plates.
Next week is the dreaded Valentine’s Day, but I hope that instead of trying to cook some faux rosemantic dinner for two, I can entice you to cook for a bunch of people that you like. A lot! I think that most of us will have little tolerance for all that commercial schmaltzy stuff this year. I can’t imagine anything tackier than getting a stuffed teddy bear, clutching a bottle of no-name Champagne and a bunch of sad fleurs. I would, however, happily settle for some tea and toast brought to me in bed, rather than scentless roses and a grudging resentment about having to prove one’s love, according to the card companies’ terms and conditions.
Lemon and garlic poached chicken (serves 4-6)
This is my kind of dish: rustic, not too creamy and full of garlic. It is a great dinner dish for informal occasions. Having a good-sized heavy based saucepan or casserole dish makes this easier to do in one go.
Use legs, thighs, breasts, or ask your butcher to joint a whole chicken for you into six pieces, leaving you with two breasts, two thighs and two legs. You’ll also have two wings, but they are too skimpy to serve on their own.
2 tbsps olive oil
6-8 chicken pieces, on the bone
Salt and pepper
20 garlic cloves, unpeeled
250ml white wine
Zest and juice of 2 lemons
Few sprigs of thyme
2 bay leaves
500ml stock
1 baguette
Parsley
Heat up the olive oil in a big saucepan and brown the chicken on all sides for about five minutes until it is golden brown. Make sure you get good colour on it at this stage, or it will end up pale and anaemic. Season well on all sides. When the chicken is brown, quickly transfer it on to a plate and discard all the oil in the pan. There will be quite a lot of fat and it’s good to get rid of it now. Add the garlic, wine, lemon zest and juice, herbs and stock to the saucepan and give them a good mix and then carefully put the chicken back in the cooking liquor to simmer gently for about 25 minutes.
Meanwhile, toast up some baguette slices and pile them on a plate. When the chicken is cooked, remove some of the garlic cloves and squeeze out the flesh and spread it onto the baguette slices.
Spoon the chicken into big bowls and add some garlicky baguettes, sprinkle with parsley, spoon over some juice and serve.
Caramelised endive with Serrano ham (serves six)
I’m a big fan of the Blazing Salads sourdough bread and when left with the tail ends of a stale loaf, I sometimes stash them in my freezer for emergency toast. I get slagged off for doing this as inevitably, the lumps of stale frozen bread end up in the bin. But now, I have found the ideal recipe that will justify the stale bread mountain, based on the Ottolenghi cookbook*.
6 Belgian endives, cut in half lengthways
50g butter
2 tbsps honey
Salt and pepper
50g sourdough breadcrumbs
70g parmesan cheese
2 tbsp thyme leaves
100ml cream
Black pepper
12 slices (approx 100g) Serrano ham
Olive oil
Pre-heat the oven to 200 degrees/gas six. Line a baking tray with baking paper. Heat half the butter and one tablespoon of honey in a non-stick large frying pan until foaming. Fry the endive, flat side down until they are starting to caramelise. Season well. Once they have turned slightly golden brown, carefully turn them over so they get coated in the butter and then lay them out on the baking tray, with the caramelised side facing upwards. Give the pan a wipe out with some kitchen paper and then heat up the next batch of butter and honey and repeat with the remaining endives.
Mix the breadcrumbs with the Parmesan, thyme, cream and black pepper. Gently pack the breadcrumbs on to the endive and drizzle with some olive oil and more black pepper. Bake for about 15 minutes, then top with slices of Serrano ham and bake for another 15 minutes, or until the ham is starting to crisp up. Serve on their own with a big salad, or with the chicken recipe above.
* Ottolenghi: The Cookbook, Ebury Press, £25 in UK
