Lorraine Pascale's Doris Grant Loaf

The weekend is always the perfect time for cooking and I love nothing more than to lose myself on a Saturday afternoon in spending time on a more involved recipe. Weekends offer the chance to do the type of cooking that we regrettably just do not have the time to do during the average week. It is a time when cooking becomes what it should be about, pleasure and the love of eating, rather than just throwing something together to fuel yourself for another day. For me, the weekend is about baking, in particular cakes and bread.

I'm a complete carboholic. I could never contemplate doing something like the Atkins diet. To exist without dense doughy sourdough, golden, crusty baguettes smeared with butter or bulging muffins bursting with chocolate chips or brilliant blueberries is just unthinkable.

One of my favourite baking bibles is Lorraine Pascale's 'Baking Made Easy' and today I made the Doris Grant Loaf. I've actually made this several times but I have such loaf love for this bread that I find myself always coming back to it, instead of trying the other bread recipes in the book.

Dense, deeply brown, textured but soft, grainy bread encased by a shell of satisfyingly crunchy crumb. This bread ticks off everything a carbomaniac could want. I prefer wholemeal bread generally and this is in a 'whole' different world to the pappy, soggy excuses our supermarkets palm off on us, wrapped in clinical polystyrene bags. The fact it is also a bread that you don't need to knead makes this a charming, leisurely Saturday afternoon activity rather than a strenous work out.

Frankly, this bread is so good, I literally needed nothing else with it to make a divine lunch. Well, actually that's a lie, I did have one little supplement - a pot of gleamingly golden extra virgin olive oil with a little puddle of dark, powerful balsamic vinegar to dunk my bread in.

And this bread is so soft and tender that it absorbed my little bath of oil and vinegar like a sponge. Popping warm slices of homemade bread in your mouth with olive oil dribbling down it -there's no finer lunch.

Ingredients

• 225g/8oz strong white bread flour, plus extra for dusting
• 225g/8oz strong wholemeal flour
• 1 tsp salt
• 1 x 7g sachet fast-action dried yeast
• 1 tbsp clear honey
• 300ml/11fl oz warm water
• vegetable oil or oil spray, for oiling
• a little milk, for brushing

Preparation method

1. Dust a medium baking tray with flour.
2. Sift the flours into a large bowl and reserve the grain – the brown bits that are too big to fit through the sieve. Add the salt and yeast, then make a big hole in the centre and pour in the honey and water. Mix well to form a smooth dough, working it gently with your hands if necessary. If the dough feels a bit stiff, add an extra two tablespoons of water. Shape the mixture into a ball and place on the prepared baking tray. Make sure the top is smooth and wrinkle-free. Cover the dough loosely with oiled clingfilm, making sure it is airtight, and leave to rise in a warm place for a good hour, or until it has almost doubled in size.
3. Preheat the oven to 200C/400F/Gas 6. Remove the clingfilm from the dough and make a few slashes in the top with a sharp knife – I use a sharp, serrated knife and saw gently. Brush the loaf with milk, sprinkle with the reserved grain and then place in the oven.
4. Put about 10 ice cubes into the bottom of the oven – they will produce steam, which keeps the crust from hardening too quickly. (A quickly hardened crust prevents the bread from rising well.) Bake the bread for 30–40 minutes, or until it has risen, sounds hollow when tapped underneath and comes easily off the baking tray. Remove from the oven and leave to cool on the tray.
5. Serve fresh from the oven with loads of butter. These loaves do not keep well. However, if the whole lot does not disappear in one sitting, slice up the remainder and put it in the freezer to eat as toast.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/recipes/doris_grant_loaf_16985

Harissa Chicken Breast in a Foccaccia Bun with Caramelised Red Onion

This is barely a recipe at all. In fact, just reading the title of this post is pretty much it.

For a delicious lunch today, I simply took a chicken breast, bashed it with a rolling pin to flatten it and then rubbed it in a good tablespoon of lovely, earhy harissa paste.

Whilst leaving it to marinate, I took a foccaccia bread roll, which I got from the in store bakery at Waitrose, drizzled it in a little olive oil and then toasted both sides in a griddle pan over a medium-high heat.

I then swapped the now crispingly crumbly foccaccia rolls and kept them warm in the oven whilst I cooked the spicy chicken breast in the griddle pan. Then it was a case of putting the bird in the bun and smearing liberally with the gooily tangy caramelised red onion chuntey I bought from M&S (this stuff more than warrants its £1.99 price tag).

Andf that was it. But I can't describe how good this was. The crunch of the bread that had the depth of the olive oil pemeating it, the juicy chicken enlivened by the fiery heat of the harissa and the sweet sharpness of the chutney: three components each giving the most perfect mouthful of food.

Butternut Squash

Today's inspirational ingredient is the Butternut Squash. Big, bulging beasts of a vegetable with a cheering mellow orange flesh lurking underneath that smooth, tough exterior.

What inspired me to have Butternut Squash tonight was a simple idea I saw in Delicious Magazine. You just cut your Squash into chunks, put it in a roasting tin and annoit in with the golden lubricant that is olive oil. Then, simply add a good dollop of heat with the help of some harissa paste and after roasting in a hot oven for 45 minutes, I had a comforting but healthy supper that left my stomach feeling as warm and glowing as the yielding Squash flesh.

All of that with no effort - now that's what I call a result. The beauty of this was that you do nothing, the oven takes care of transforming the hard, firm Squash into a blissful bath of sweet tang. I didn't even pother peeling it.

And whilst we're on simple ideas for Butternut Squash, here's another one of my favourite standby ideas, courtesy of Nigella:

Roast some diced Squash with olive oil and thyme in a hot oven. Take out and then crumble over some salty nuggets of blue cheese and scatter over some toasted crunch courtesy of some pecan nuts. Again, nothing to it but I really cannot describe how comforting this is.

Cadbury Philadelphia

Despite the 'Chocolate Philly? Don't be Silly' strapline that Kraft have adopted for their chocolate flavoured Philadelphia, I have never thought the rich, gooey cream would be anything other than a sweet moutful of sticky bliss.

For some reason, every time you mention this product to someone, shock and revulsion cross their face and the old 'Chocolate and Cheese?' argument inevitably begins. But Philadelphia has never really been a proper cheese; it's just a creamy pot of smooth paste that somehow manages to be both satisfyingly cloying but also light and refreshing. If anything I would argue Philadelphia is bland in the most heavingly way possible; it complements whatever you put it with.

I've spread it across a puffy pillow of a bagel with flakes of coral smoked salmon shining on top and I've blended it with lemon curd to make a zingy and refreshing filling for a tart to be adorned with a treasure trove of fruits. Philadelphia works so well with everything, hence why Kraft have even produced recipe books for it, demonstrating its versatility. I've seen it used with all sorts, from pasta to fish dishes, and surely we've all made a cheesecake with it? And I bet a large proportion of those have been chocolate cheesecakes so surely there should not be an issue with combining it with Cadbury chocolate?

There isn't. This is a heavenly mix of the thick, cooling properties of Philadelphia with a subtly sweet chocolate flavouring permeating every pore of the cream cheese. It's beautifully thick; smearing it across bread is satisfying  and, like peanut butter, the product clings onto the knife, coating it in its dark gloss. When you taste Chocolate Philadelphia, it blankets your tongue in creamy, soothing chocolate bliss. But it is also subtle and not overpoweringly chocolatey or sweet.

Actually Chocolate Philadelphia is surprisingly light at only 86 calories per 30g serving. And I personally would never use 30g in one go. A light spread across a digestive biscuit provides you with an instant chocolate cheesecake that feels and tastes like a real indulgent treat but without all the guilt. It makes a perfect substitute for a chocolate bar or a handful of biscuits.

Frankly, the only thing Silly about Chocolate Philly is that people will not even give it a chance. Try it, you won't regret it.

Rachel Khoo: The Little Paris Kitchen

After watching Rachel Khoo on BBC2 tonight, I would like nothing more than to leave my currant life behind and get the next flight to Paris to live a carefree life of croissants, croque madames and coffees by the Eiffel tower.

Sadly I do not have the guts to do anything as spontaneous as that so I can only watch this slice of alluring French cookery with envy. Rachel left her life behind in Croydon and uprooted to Paris where she opened up a restaurant in a miniscule flat that can only cater for two people. The first thing I felt when watching this show was sheer admiration for someone who is clearly passionate about what they do and is determined enough to follow that love.

The second thing that grabbed me was obviously the food. What I really liked about this programme was how simple everything was. French cuisine does have this myth attached to it, suggesting it is all suagr thermometers and complicated patisserie, but Rachel created dishes that enticed through combining fantastic, fresh base ingredients. The countless market scenes, depicting the abundance of beautiful local produce aided this idea that so long as the ingredients are good, the end result will always be a mouth watering spectacle. Thick, vivid green sprigs of mint, gleaming olives and in particular a golden exlixir of city honey stimulated the eye as much as my stomach.

Not that my stomach wasn't excited by what Rachel produced. Crispy, carb-comforting croque madames, barbeque coq au vin and a fragrant mint sauce were all a delight to see being made but the stars of the show were the spring lamb stew and raspeberry and lemon madelines.

The stew looked so warm and inviting that you wanted to dive in to its herby, punchy waters permeated by juicy nuggets of lamb but what was so appealing about it was that Rachel was making it so simply; just good ingredients simmering away and melding their flavours together - no fancy tricks. The golden, flaky madelines were even more appetisiing. It is no secret I have a massive sweet tooth but these shells of buttery, lemony sponge really hooked me.

What is particularly appealing about this programme is that the style of the show is clean and simple. This is not an overproduced show. Rachel is not putting on an act for the camera and you get the sense that everything is an intimate conversation between you and her, compared to the over-stylised set ups you might get from Nigella or Lorraine Pascale.

It was just a relaxed, chic half hour of dishes that spoke for themselves. This, alongside a charming and slightly kooky presenter means I will definitely be tuning in next week (helped along by the enticing choux buns no doubt).

Mother's Day

Good eating very often boils down to who you're eating with and, having had Sunday lunch with the extended family today, the simple roast beef dinner I had was veritable feast.

Beef, Roast Potatoes, Celeriac and Swede Mash, Carrots, Peas, Yorkshire Puddings, Gravy, Broccoli and Sprouts. Written like that does the meal I've had no justice. This was simple, high quality family feasting. Beautifully tender beef from the butcher with a rich, juicy gravy swaddling fresh, vibrant vegetables. In my mind, there really is no better meal than a roast dinner.

But what makes a roast dinner that extra bit special is that ultimately it is a family eating ritual. You don't really eat or make a roast for one. And being surrounded by all the family and, most importantly, my mum, makes that ordinary list of meal components into something very special.

The roast dinner as a celebration of the family is mostly a celebration of my mum. Thinking of all the Sundays that my mum has toiled away, peeling potatoes and cutting up carrots, makes you realise how lucky you are to have had a childhood where you were always well fed.

I think most of us would argue that our mum is the one who makes the best roast dinner. Maybe it is partly sentamentality behind this, but the foods we are bought up on are inevitably going to shape our tastes and attitudes as we grow older so the Sunday dinner we were given is always going to be how we define it as an adult.

My love of food would possibly be non existant (or at least severely tempered) had I not been so lucky to have a mum that always experimented and tried new things. So many of her recipes are my all time favourites. Her roast dinners, her rice pudding, her moroccan tagine, her homemade burgers and her chilli con carne would all make it into my top meals and I still look forward to every time I am fortunate enough to get to eat one of them again.

My mum always encouraged me to try new things (I remember first trying Indian food at the age of 7 as I pathetically took the scraps from my parents' takeway) and the fact I really cannot think of any foods I dislike is testiment to having been raised in a house where the kitchen really was the heart of the home. So to all the mums out there who have kept us fed and watered so well for so long, cheers!

The Swan at Coombe Hill Review

When I leave a restaurant feeling slightly uncomfortably full but happily so, it has clearly done something right. Though the Swan at Coombe Hill is at a bit of an inconvenient location (a pub opposite a petrol station on an A road and that is really only accessible by car doesn't really seem an attractive choice for those wanting to drink), it is worth making the effort for a meal out that is the food equivalent of snuggling up on the sofa after a long day.

It's one of those places that exudes warmth and cosiness. The decor is simple; smooth, warm, wood flooring with lots of space between cosy tables that still feel spacious and a gently murmuring atmosphere that is never too noisy but still feels lively.

The menu is unashamedly comfort food and lots of stodge. But this is good stodge. The food is not fatty, greasy or unhealthy but the sort of stodge that feels wholesome in its fillingness and leaves you with a warm glow in your tummy. The Swan typically offers pies, good hearty sausages, soothing soups, traditional English puddings and lovingly tender meat and fish dishes. There is also a reasonable choice for vegetarians. My vegetarian companion, a pretty fussy eater who doesn't really like eating out (why I want to hang out with them I'll never know), enjoyed a brocolli and toasted almond soup for starter, which was an interesting twist on a classic, and a deliciously soft artichoke potato cake with griddled goat's cheese and a balsamic reduction.

I went for whitebait for starter after a lot of conflict (the warm duck and chorizo salad and homemade trout pate both offered a lot of temptation) but was so glad when it arrived. Firstly, at the risk of sounding greedy, the portion was large and this, I feel, is imperative to eating out. Hospitality comes from generosity and it's hard to feel welcome at a place where you are given a clinical white plate with a few meagre strips of whitebait looking scared and lonely in the middle of its white circumference.

Thankfully, this is never an issue at the Swan. Everything plate or bowl we ordered was positively bursting with its delectable offerings. The whitebait was perfectly cooked, the crisp fried breadcrumbs providing a perfect contrast to the yielding softness within. The homemade tartare sauce that came with it only made this dreamy duo a perfect trio; lemony and thick without ever being rich or cloying.

The lamb tagine I had for the main was equally balanced. Beautiful, soft, nubbly grains of golden couscous soaked up the rich meaty juices of the tagine's sauce. And what a sauce it was, deep, rich with the flavour of the meltingly tender lamb running through its stream of warming spices.

The only disappointment for me was my dessert - a bread and butter pudding. I suppose it was my own fault for ordering something that you picture in your head from an idealised childhood. But this was barely a bread pudding at all. Rather than crisp bread oozing with sodden sweet currants and a doughy middle, it tasted more just like a rather bland slab of spnge dotted with a few token sultanas. My companion's dessert, a sticky toffee pudding, was much more satisfying. Punchy, soft and sweating its syrupy sweetness from every pore, it fulfilled my desire for a nursery style pudding.

The service was also slightly disappointing. Dishes arrived very promptly, making the meal feel slightly rushed from the perspective of someone who likes to linger over a meal for as long as possible.

But as I left the restaurant feeling sleepily full of comforting carbs, it is hard not to think of the Swan as anything other than a fantastic traditional English restaurant that more than delivers on what any establishment ought to - simple, wholesome food that warms the stomach and the soul.


http://www.swanatcoombehill.co.uk/

Why I Love to Eat

Eating is a hobby.

It is also in my opinion one of the best hobbies and passions you can have. Take kayaking for example, yes, I'm sure its enthusiasts say it's one of the greatest joys you can expererience but you are limited in how often you can do it. You need time out of your hectic schedule to be able to indulge in it, you need the budget for it and if you don't want to drown you really are reliant on other people being able to do it with you.

Food as a hobby is something every one of us can wallow in and enjoy every single day. In fact, it's not even once a day but several times a day. I look forward to every meal and snack I consume. Every eating occasion is special and I take full advantage of all these opportunities each day brings to sample new foods, try new things and let myself savour the appearance, smells and most importantly tastes that food delivers.

There is not a single food I will not eat or do not like. This may seem implausible but I have something good to say about all types of food. I am just as happy eating  celery dipped in a heavenly houmous as I am devouring an oozingly drippy chocolate fudge cake bursting with sweet comfort.

Because of this I have decided to start a daily blog. If I'm honest I could write several entries a day because food is something that underscores everything we do. We all need to eat. But eating is not just fuel for me and I immerse myself in all its brilliant forms. I love to cook and will test out recipes, I watch cookery shows, I buy celebrity cookbooks and food magazines. I'm fortunate to be able to work in a job where I get to hear of all the latest developments in the food industry and I always get the urge to try out any new product that graces our supermarket shelves.

But I could never limit myself to just the ordinary. I like to shop in little delis, visit market stalls and discover those little foodie gems off the beaten track that you will only ever find by accident or recommendation. And as well as covering the above, I aim to recommend these troves of food perfection whenever I find them.

Eating out is also incredibly important to me and is, in my opinion, one of the nicest ways to socialise. Food, ultimately is communal; it is about giving and sharing with those you care about. Going to restaurants, for me, is the ultimate indulgent way to spend time with my nearest and dearest. When you have great conversation, great guests and a goregeous gift on a plate in front of you, it really is hard to want to be anywhere else. However, I am just as happy eating properly cooked fish and chips as I am in a tres sophisticated French brasserie. So long as the food has been prepared with care and love, I am happy.

Anything and everything food related will be covered in this blog as long as it offers joy. And that ulimately, is what eating needs to be about. I learn about food history because I find the cultural tapestry behind dishes interesting and because it often makes them even more appealing, not because I want to be  a 'know it all'. I love to cook, not because I'm looking for compliments or because I'm trying to impress my guests but because I'm just naturally greedy and want something good for myself to eat.

For me, any kind of food snobbery or cooking competition is like a food vampire that sucks all the joy and beauty out of food. Eating is a postive thing, it can comfort us, cheer us up, tantalise our tastebuds and provicd a rock in an unsteady world. Why would you ruin it by putting pressure on yourself trying to win admiration for a beautiful looking tarte tatin? I'd rather have a shabby looking crumble with friends so long as it tastes good.

And ultimately, things tasting good is why we eat. Ok, some might eat just to give them energy for the day but I think most of us cook and consume because we want to, because we want that certain taste to satisify our cravings.

And satisify my cravings is what I'm off to do now, by having a gloriously golden bagel smeared thickly with cool, creamy Philadelphia...