I’m officially addicted to growing my own sprouts. If I had an outdoor space then of course, I would be planting more than sprouts. But alas, city life makes all things relative I have to make do with what I can- which is sprouting. L-O-T-S.  Sprouting is officially the next best thing to full on gardening- and yes I do consider it gardening because that makes me feel better. Once you have witnessed for yourself that the satisfaction is almost instant, you’ll be hooked too.  Forget the digging, back pain and months of waiting for a shoot to appear through the ground. We’re talking 2-3 days here and you will have fully sprouted sprouts ready to chuck back like popcorn or delicately sprinkle over a salad. And by the time you’ve chomped your way through a batch your next one is ready to go.  In your mouth that is.

For those who are worried about not being able to keep plants alive, fear not- sprouting, aside from being the cleanest and least strenuous type of gardening is just about the most forgiving kind too. I have a sprouting jar that I bought here but you don’t even need something this fancy.

The process is very simple- just soak the sprouting seeds for 12-24 hours and then rinse and drain a couple of times a day until you have what you see below. One of these days I’ll do a little photographic tutorial but for now you’ll just have to deal with a solitary picture that symbolises my mastery of horticulture.

I’m quite partial to the chickpea, mung bean and lentil mix, (photographed above) which is crunchy and earthy tasting but you can also sprout alfalfa seeds and broccoli seeds for what I like to refer to as hairy sprouts. Both are great in salads and  love to get cozy sandwiched with hummus and banana peppers in toasted pitas.

They also both like this salad which combines raw and cooked ingredients for a crunchy, salty, chewy salad that come to think of it would also be nice sandwiched with hummus in a toasted pita. It’s sort of a summery salad, but seeing as Spring is finally in our grasp here in New York, I couldn’t wait to post this any longer. My patience with winter has been wavering and the sale on asparagus at the greengrocers tells me he’s pretty fed up with stocking the shelves with cabbage and squash too.
You could save yourself the minimal effort of making your own by going to the huge effort and expense of buying your own but I’ll leave that burdensome decision up to you.

On days when you’re trapped indoors, waiting…. just waiting for a break in the snow storm so that you can peek your face outside- those are the days to make stew. Of course, it helps if you already have the ingredients on stand-by- or at least a well stocked pantry and a few odd chicken pieces in the freezer. You haven’t? Haven’t you learned anything at all from this snowy winter? I clearly, haven’t- because there I found myself yesterday staring into an empty fridge, an empty freezer (recently cleared-out by my husband after I left him for 2 weeks) and pretty sparse cupboards by my standards.

By lunchtime I knew that whilst I could quite happily spend three meals sucking on spoonfuls of peanut butter and scraps of dark chocolate- Don would not be impressed when it came to dinner.  So, having layered myself in half my wardrobe and tugged relentlessly at my coat zipper until it begrudgingly tucked all of me in I then stumbled around in my Michelin man suit to pull on my snow boots and ski goggles (okay so I left the ski goggles at home, but I wished I’d bought them). I only ventured out far enough to grab an organic free-range chicken and a bunch of rosemary and then quickly waddled back to my toasty seventh floor apartment, which is conveniently heated by my neighbours on all four sides. The benefits of living in such close proximity to others have finally been realised.

This stew is hearty and light at the same time- it’s one that can be served in the summer with a salad or couscous or in the winter just about any kind of starch will work. It’s based on a Delia Smith chicken Cacciatore recipe, but her’s uses fresh tomatoes which you are then supposed to blanch and skin and- well, despite the fact that tomatoes this time of year are like cotton balls to eat I am not in the business of skinning tomatoes. I didn’t have the white wine so I replaced it with red and then found myself thinking wouldn’t it be nice to add some veg. Don had ignored a bag of frozen artichoke hearts in the freezer so I decided that I would dump them in. I remembered Delia’s recipe (delicious though it is) has a tendency to be a bit watery and I wanted something rich that wouldn’t leak-out all over my plate.  So, I lightly coated the chicken in seasoned flour before I browned it. The result of which, is a sauce that is lightly bound together and so much more satisfying.

The only problem with this stew is that it’s really better the next day- aren’t they all? That being said you won’t be disappointed if you don’t wait and if you live in a house of one or two then you’ll have leftovers….lots of leftovers. Which, considering how the snow is still hurling around outside my window, is quite a relief for me.

If you make one cake this year, let it be this one. This cake, simply put, is pure sweet indulgence- but with  a few gratings of butternut squash to make you feel better about the sugar coma certain to ensue. The crème fraîche, won’t relieve you of any guilt but the fact that it’s gluten-free and you can feed it to your celiac friends may just rouse you enough to spread the good word. About this cake, that is.

If, however, you gave up sugar for lent, then you have served yourself a severe misfortune and this certainly isn’t for you. At least not for the next five weeks. As someone who is personally trying to go easy on the sugar, I admit I really let myself down on this one. I fell and I fell hard.  Some people cave at the candy bar displays at check out lines but no. not me- I cave when I come across a truly beautiful baking book. Particularly ones with titles like red velvet & chocolate heartache and pictures of teddy bear tea parties, cakes in doll houses and fairy princesses. That was all it took and it was only a matter of how long it took me to get back to my kitchen before I would well and truly give myself up to its charms. All I can say, is it’s a good thing I’m back on the running wagon.

If there’s one kind of baked good that truly allures me, it’s a rolled one. A sheet of meringue rolled and filled with berries and cream is about enough for me to hit the ground and beg, a chocolate roulade filled with ganache and cream and you’ll have me pounding the floor for mercy- and a steamed jam roly-poly, well, I’d be offering to kiss feat for a slice covered in warm custard. I can’t pinpoint exactly what it is that has me so intrigued- the spirals,  the way the filling oozes, or maybe it’s the ratio of cake to filling. Perhaps it’s all of the above and the fact that they are generally filled or served with cream doesn’t hurt either. Hey, if there’s no butter in a cake I should be allowed the cream!

This cake is particularly good served warm- the dulce de leche seeps into every nook and cranny of the sponge and the crème fraîche lazily begins to warm and melt around the sliced of banana. Unless of course you forget to, sigh, put the bananas in and you have to serve them on top- but lets not talk about that.  It also, only takes 15 minutes to bake and the same amount to prep plus 10 minutes on the other side to roll it up and fill it.  It’s one of those bish-bam-boom cakes for times when you have unexpected guests or when you’ve promised to bring dessert and have once again procrastinated. A rolled cake, are you kidding me?! People will think you’ve been cooking for hours. It can be our little secret

I love the babaganoush you can get in Turkish restaurants- so tangy any creamy all at the same time. They say it’s one of the healthier dips but let me assure you, that’s not the reason why I can’t resist scraping up any bits still clinging to the sides of the bowl with a crooked finger. Finding a brand in the supermarket that’s worthy of a finger scraping, however, has been a less fruitful search. So, finally I had the grand old idea to have a go at it myself. It’s funny how that happens. As always I decided to seek out the advice of the experts first- Claudia Roden, on this occasion. In the end I followed her procedure but muddled around her ingredients- I stole from one eggplant dip recipe and then another aubergine and tomatoes recipe to come up with something not entirely different to what you would find in Turkey, but certainly not the same. Which, is not to say that it’s worse- it’s just one of those same same but different kind of things. Trust me. Oh go on, I dare you.

The tomatoes are what make it different, but aubergines and tomatoes are such well known buddies that they’re happy to be tossed in the same boat. Like all good relationships, they bring out the best in each other- and the garlic and good olive oil don’t trouble the friendship either. But lets not forget the tahini or the lemon- oh, and the coriander, well there’s just one hell of a party going on now.

Unlike so many aubergine recipes this recipe isn’t dripping with oil and won’t leave your lips greasy or your belly bloated. Well, that makes me happy anyway. What also makes me happy is that you can eat it warm or chilled- with a spoon, or a hooked finger.  It’s the same same but different.

Sort-of Babaganoush

This keeps well in the fridge. Store in an airtight container for up to a week. Based on a recipe from Claudia Roden’s book New Middle Eastern Cooking.

Makes: a large tub.

Diet Facts: Gluten-free, veggie and good.

2 large aubergines, about 2 lbs

2 large garlic cloves

1 pint cherry tomatoes

3 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil

small bunch coriander (about 1/4 cup chopped leaves)

1/2 tsp cumin

2 juicy lemons

4 Tbsp tahini

salt and pepper

Prep work

Prick the aubergines with a knife • Mince the garlic cloves • halve the cherry tomatoes • chop the coriander leaves so that you have 1/4 cup • juice the lemons

How to make

1/ If you have a gas hob turn it on high and lay the aubergines over the burner turning occasionally with tongs so that the whole thing is charred and completely soft. This may take 10 minutes. Alternatively do the same under a grill (broiler) or in a really hot oven.

2/ Once the aubergine is charred peel in a fine mesh sieve over a bowl and discard the peel and stem. Using a fork mash the flesh until fairly smooth allowing any juices to drain into the bowl below. Allow the aubergine to continue to draining as you go on to the next stage.

3/ Meanwhile, Heat the oil over a medium heat in a medium frying pan. Add the garlic and after 30 seconds add the halved tomatoes. Cook until the tomatoes have broken down and softened- about 5 minutes, then remove from the heat.

4/ Discard the aubergine juices and place the mashed aubergine in the bowl. Add the warm tomatoes/garlic/oil and the remaining ingredients. Season with salt and pepper and serve warm or chilled with crunchy crackers or pita chips.

This is what my time in West Virginia was all about. Congratulations, Jamie!

Jamie Oliver\'s TED Prize wish

I have a little thing about chocolate cake. I think it’s because I’m mostly not a cake person- but put a rich dark chocolate cake in front of me and you may find my cosying up to you, rubbing your back affectionately and gently sighing. It can’t be made with bakers chocolate or cheap cocoa and if it’s dry then I’ll probably hand it straight back- but if it’s moist and tender, dark and rich I’ll be your best friend forever. I may be picky but I’m fiercely loyal.

We can all do with a little chocolate cake in our life. A recipe for a good one may just be the quickest way to attract new friends. I gave youone years ago- but if you’re looking for a more day-to-day cake, the kind you have with a cup of tea rather than candles and a happy birthday chorus then I think you’ll find this one soon taking prime positioning in your recipe file.

As a pound cake it’s a little dense- by which I mean it can hold it’s own weight making it fantastically convenient for being scoffed over the kitchen sink. Lets be honest, there are times when plates are just so overrated. I’ve studded this beauty generously with chards of deeply dark chocolate- 85% cocoa, if you can get it.  Because it’s flavour is so robust most of it should end up in the cake and not in your mouth,  which you’ll thank me for later. No, seriously you will. The ovaltine is optional, but it adds a very subtle malted flavour- nothing brash like the effect of adding spirits or orange zest. If you decide to omit it just add it’s weight in flour. But enough of my gibbering there’s cake to be had so go forth, make cake and make friends.

p.s the missing slice is due to my lovely husband- always forgetting that there a photographs to be taken before food can be eaten!

They say popcorn is a healthy snack- well not the kind you buy in family-sized buckets at the cinema, nor the kind that’s photographed, but air-popped kind, that’s the low calorie one. Like everything though, there is a limit to how much one can eat before it becomes unhealthy- yes even air-popped. I am 110% certain that I have reached that limit, and yes I am the teeniest bit ashamed to admit it. After a long day at work Don comes home craving pasta covered in cheese and if I have been unfortunate enough to have worked an equally long day he will unquestionably find me sprawled out on the sofa scoffing popcorn drizzled with extra virgin olive oil and Maldon sea salt. I can see the disappointment in his face as he notes that his wife was clearly too exhausted to cook him dinner, again. It’s not a habit that I’ve become proud of but there are evenings (and I hate to admit it but also the odd lunch or two) where I’ve been working so hard that all I want to eat is something crunchy and salty, preferably sat on the sofa watching idol, with a cup of tea- fresh mint, which I think marginally raises my level of class.

I’ve tried to make big meals at the weekend to last us through the week but whilst Don is happy to reheat and eat, I am most pleasant to be around when I’m sat with a bowl of popcorn. It’s just a passing phase, I’m sure- not the lack of a nutritious dinner but the popcorn itself. If I’ve been cooking food all day the last thing I want is to sit down in front of a plate of it. Popcorn has a lovely way of being inoffensive to my palate.

The popcorn photographed came as a result of one exceptionally lazy weekend which led to a rather loose handed pour of kernels into a scorching hot pan. Rather than fish them out at the risk of seared fingers I popped the lid on and shook the pan until I was left with what can truthfully only be described as a popcorn explosion. Something had caught my eye over at Smitten Kitchen a few weeks ago so I snuck back over and sourced out the guilty culprit. It looked even more desirable that I had remembered the first time, so it was not even a question that I was going to give it a go. It’s disgustingly good- you’ll want to remove it from your house as quickly as possible and emphatically impose it upon your friends. They will without question declare you a culinary genius and you’ll be pleased that you no longer have to face its ogling eyes each time you pass through the kitchen.

The only problem of course, is when you decide that you really ought to make it again. And again. And again. And then once you’ve left batches for the doorman and then the cleaner and you’ve finally made friends with your neighbours, you’ll probably find yourself sick of the stuff. And only then will you decide that despite your new-found popularity, you probably don’t need to make another batch.

I had an idea after making the Smitten Kitchen recipe to turn this into a sort of trail-mix. The caramel popcorn takes the place of chocolate and forms little clusters of sweet and salty joy along with toasted mixed seeds, roasted almonds and dried cranberries or cherries. It’s not something that you want to carry with you on a hike but it’s perfect for serving to friends for an energy-fueled game night.

The recipe makes a lot more caramel than is photographed- the idea being that you can tailor it to your own ideal level of sweetness. If you don’t add it all though, you will have to be very quick about stirring to insure that all of the seeds get picked up by the caramel and stick to the popcorn. I like to spread out all the dry ingredients in a large greased roasting tin before I pour over the caramel- that way each ingredient stands its best chance of being sugar coated.

Just don’t start making this in place of dinner- because that would be just plain wrong.

I turned 27 today. You probably think I ought to be out partying. In reality I think I ought to be out partying but the truth is I just could not get my act together this year. That and the lack of stamina I seem to have after a week at work. Perhaps I’ll do something in February, once I’ve gotten used to the idea that I’m closer to thirty than I was on January 17th. I guess I sort of thought that turning 27 would be just like any other birthday- I’d wake up, be surrounded by cards and prezzies to open in bed and when people asked me if I felt any different I would just shrug and say, nope! I used to be thrilled that I was getting older- as far as I was concerned one couldn’t get old fast enough. First it was old enough to get my ears peirced, then it was old enough to drive, to finish school, to finish college, to finally be the one who isn’t asked to make the tea, to get married, have kids and finally, finally be the boss. And then life could just stop once I was married with kids at the top of my game because I would have finally reached the age of perfection.

The thing is waking up 27 I do feel different. 27 is like the critical age- it’s that much closer to 30, it’s the one when people finally start giving you a bit more respect in the work place and finally your age some what qualifies you. It’s the one age where kids in their early twenties suddenly think of as adult and when parents start thinking you’re not too young to marry.  I have always been the baby in the kitchen. The one whose opinons held absolutely no credibility purely because of my, and I quote: lack of life experience. I was the one who always go teased for being so young- questions like do you remember… were quickly followed by a sigh and never mind, you probably weren’t even born then. I sort of liked it. Not the part that warranted me unqualified in having an opinion but the fact that it was assumed that I was young and therefore somewhat envied.

This year things have changed. I look at pictures from a few years ago and find myself saying out loud- look how young I look! It’s not that I’ve suddenly become grey-haired and wrinkly but clearly something has changed. I was not asked for ID once this year! Okay, so maybe in the bars when they are checking everyone- but not one booze store carded me and I’ve been to quite a few. Perhaps it’s just me that’s unable to see my greying hairs and wrinkles- poor eyesight, I believe that’s a sign of ageing too. Last week was a particularly brutal week for me in the kitchen- for the first time I wasn’t the youngest. And not only that but even though there was less than two years separating me from the baby I was quite mistakenly grouped into the older generation. There was no never mind you probably weren’t even born then for me. I wanted to cry out- but WAIT I WAS BORN IN THE 80′S TOO!!

So, turning 27 hasn’t been all it’s cracked up to be. There were no presents in bed, no treasure hunt, no novelty cake with candles- no party. But there will be, I just have to adjust. The problem with having a birthday so soon after New Years is that you’ve spent the last three weeks working out how to better yourself and then BAM! you’re a year older and yet depressingly you’re still in the same place that you were last year. My only good fortune today, was the large spot that popped up above my right eyebrow. On most days I would pop the little bugger and try desperately to cover up the carnage- but today I let it go, because only teenagers get spots and that made me smile.

On that note, I give you hot and cold fregula salad. For those of you who haven’t had the pleasure of meeting fregula before let me be the first to introduce you. So long as your not carbo-phobic or gluten free I think you’ll find yourself to be good buddies. If you can’t bare to buy another packet of grains when you already have plenty of half-used packets in your cupboard, then fear not because it’s easily substituted with rice, brown rice, Israeli couscous, farro, barley- you get my drift. The title isn’t exactly original but it tells it like it is. Hot fregula and broccoli are tossed with raw tomatoes, carrots, spring onions and tuna with toasted pinenuts, lemon and olive oil. You could have it all cold but I’d stay away from trying to heat it all up- I think you’d miss out on all the flavours. It’s healthy, but warming at the same time, unless of course you opt to have it cold in which case it will just be healthy and filling. Feel free to mix up the veggies, I used up the dregs of my fridge- mighty good tasting dregs they were too.

I never  used to be much of a pie fan. Well, actually that’s not entirely true- I still maintain a feeling of complete disgust for the kind you buy in prepackaged the supermarket. The one’s where the pastry is dry tastes like cardboard and the filling tastes stodgy and salty. You can keep those kind of pies to yourself. Occasionally my mother made cheese & onion pasties when we were growing up- the problem was I had a severe dislike for onions and by the time I had laboriously picked out each little piece and shoved it to the side of my plate I was left with an unappetising blob of cold sweaty cheese and a crumbled pastry shell. I recall spending a lot of my youth, dissecting my food in order to weed out those sneaky onions- oh how times have changed. So flash forward sixteen years and here I am fond of both onions and pies- and funnily enough there’s never any reason to scold me for leaving food on my plate either.

I have a great pie cookbook, which I refer to often- Angela Boggiano’s Pie book. Flicking through the pages for inspiration I drool over the beautiful photographs until I find one that includes some if not all of the contents of my fridge. I must confess, I often ignore her directing me to make my own pastry- sometimes I just can’t get my act together in time to allow for that. It is of course worth it if you have the time, but lets be honest, most of us struggle to find time to put together a twenty minute meal- so I think cheating on the pastry is forgivable. But if you start cheating with jars of already minced garlic and bottles of lemon juice then we’re going to have a few problems, you and I.

This recipe uses store bought puff pastry- if you can buy it pre-rolled you’ll be even better off. Just try to find one that uses all butter rather than a percentage of lard or vegetable fat- it will be better for you and it will taste better too. If you decide to make your own, make a quick flaky pastry- going to the effort of making puff pastry from scratch is not necessary and would frankly just be showing off. Besides, you’ll have enough to gloat about when you take these golden pies out of the oven. The filling is an adaptation because I had a whole bag of prawns but not enough smoked salmon, I didn’t have mascarpone but I did have crème fraîche, I didn’t have dill but I did have parsley, and then once I baked a couple off I realised they could do with a little kick of lemon, capers and dijon- hey why not.  And so they were born- the yummiest little hand pies I ever did have the fortune to eat. The filling is every so slightly creamy but full of freshness from the lemon, capers and parsley. They reminded me a little of prawns cooked in butter and garlic- only instead of the bread to soak up the juices you have the pastry shell. I love the way it goes a teency bit soggy as it absorbs the juices but stays crispy on the outside. I can’t lie, these are sort of posh pies- the ingredients aren’t the kind that you’ll find on sale very often. But aren’t you worth treating once in a while? I think so.

I’m not really sure where to start with this. I’m tempted just to write in sentences that end with enthusiastic/slightly exaggerated exclamation marks. Buy buffalo meat! It’s healthier than chicken! It’s low in cholesterol and fat!! It tastes great! It contains more iron than beef! It’s grass-fed and antibiotic and hormone free! Something, like that anyway.

I have a new thing with cooking buffalo/bison whatever you want to call it- I love the fact that it’s healthy, of course and the fact that it’s cheaper than beef doesn’t hurt either. But even more than that I love the fact that it’s grass-fed and free of any hormones and drugs. Fancy that! Can you tell that I’m finding it awfully hard to avoid exclamations today? It’s just so exciting!

The downside of course is that it can be hard to find- which is really a good thing because if it was as easy, as oh lets say, skinless boneless chicken breasts then you could pretty safely bet that it’s being over-farmed and treated like- well the same way the majority of our livestock is treated today.

Wow, that was a downer- perhaps the exclamations weren’t so bad after all.

So let us talk meatballs then! Ground buffalo is great for making meatballs ( it’s also great for making cottage pie and lasagna FYI) I can’t really tell you why- these just taste bloody brilliant. I sort of went the whole hog, so to speak on the ‘healthy’ thing here- being that it’s a New Year, I thought it rather fitting. And for those of us who enjoyed this years seasonal festivities so much so that come New Years Eve you found the top button of your trousers relentlessly popping open- I’m sure you’ll find yourself agreeing with me that a healthier recipe for your repertoire ain’t no bad thing. At least to see you through the day when you need to wear a belt again. And even if you did manage to get to New Years without adding loose weight to your list of resolutions, you’ll probably appreciate this recipe for the way that it appeals to your already flat-belly.

This really isn’t a new idea, it’s just one that I recently thought worth trying- that is replacing some of the meat with mushrooms. I know it sounds like a bloody cheat, which is ultimately why I’ve never given it a go. You’ve probably guessed that I’m one of those people struggling to get my jeans on these days- which, true though it may be there is a larger reason for my sudden extremity. Not only am I feeling more and more passionate about where the meat I consume comes from, I’m also finding my weekly food costs spiraling out of control as I try to be an eco-conscious omnivore. It’s a tricky business and one that the only real solution to, is to simply cut back on how much you eat. You can go for using a smaller plate so that your steak still looks huge but this is a new way of tricking myself, and let’s not forget Don, which works pretty well too. You can’t really taste the mushrooms, which is why I don’t recommend splurging on any wild ones, but they kind of break up what could otherwise just be a big old dense ball of meat.This may suit you well, but for me I want something a little more tender- more, can I say it without cringing… succulent! I couldn’t just stop there though- so I threw in a few spices, fresh parsley, lemon and some feta, which all add layers of flavour and that may well have you talking in exclamations soon too!