Spanish food for Christmas

Christmas time, ho ho ho. I'm quite traditional about the whole yuletide thing, particularly when it comes to food. Each year I fend off suggestions of a goose, chicken, pheasant or duck for Christmas dinner because turkey's just what you must have. Similarly, satsumas, sprouts, chocolates and cheese are the order of the day (not necessarily together, but certainly in rapid succession).

This year, however, we decided to create our own hamper for Christmas full of indulgent things we love. And for me that means breaking slightly from tradition. The things I love includes Spanish ham, olives, marcona almonds and cava.

So, this afternoon I went to Brindisa in Borough Market to stock up on luxury Spanish food for Christmas. I've never been there before - clearly a serious oversight! It's the best shop in the world, bar none. I mean, I love Fortnum and Mason, particularly at Christmas, but they don't feed you samples of ham, cake and olives the second you walk through the door!

Brindisa smells like a delicatessen in Spain and every surface is heaving with bottles of olive oil, pulses or nuts. There's an obliging young man expertly carving a leg of delicious ham on one side, a young girl handing out cake on the other and a stack of chillies in the middle. My eyes were on stalks the second I arrived. I bought some of the delicious ham, carved for me and lovingly wrapped. I also bought melt-in-the-mouth olives, almond cake and some plan marcona almonds. Simple food, not messed-with or fussed-over.

So, this year we'll have a little slice of Spain in with our ever-so-English Christmas fayre. Feliz navidad.

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Floret. The best a man can get.

I've been awfully busy lately and busy often means little time to cook or eat out. I haven't had many particularly noteworthy food experiences for a while.

This evening, though, I stumbled upon an unexpectedly delicious find. A recipe in Waitrose Food magazine caught my eye and I did my usual adaptation jobbie.

I love cauliflower, so I'm always tempted by cauliflower cheese. But this had the added bonuses of broccoli and bacon lardons too.

So, steam some broccoli and cauliflower florets (fairly small ones) for 3 or 4 minuted - or longer if you prefer vegetables a little bit mushy, like I do. In the meantime fry bacon lardons for a few minutes until they start to brown. Drain the vegetables and put them in a big ovenproof dish with the lardons and plenty of black pepper. Pour over some cheese sauce (you could make the sauce, but it isn't really a particularly rewarding thing to make and shop-bought ones are pretty good). Top it all with some breadcrumbs mixed with loads of parmesan shavings. I sprinkled even more parmesan on top as well, because I was in a cheesy mood. And that's it - stick it in the oven for 15 minutes.

I ate it with a roasted chicken breast, but I bet it goes well with loads of things. Ok, I know it isn't haute cuisine but it was completely delicious - try it!

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Snap happy

By the way, you've probably noticed that I've started adding photos. My new fancy phone makes life a lot easier: when I take a photo it asks if I want to blog it! Simples.

If you hadn't noticed, do keep up, please!

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Hot off the press

I didn't like bread when I was a child. I wasn't very keen on sponge cake either; my childhood was a non-stop succesion of left crusts and party food forced down with a cup of tea (not a big fan of fizzy drinks either).

As a grown-up I've learned to tolerate bread, although I still don't much like the flabby sliced stuff. So, no sandwiches for me, which means lunchtimes are a constant challenge of imagination and resourcefulness!

Since discovering the panini press in our kitchen at work I've worked out that almost any kind of bread is better if you toast it. Even an uninspiring cheese and tomato sandwich becomes bearable after 2 minutes of heat and squishing. But, of course, the strong suit of the press is the panini itself. Oh, the endless variations of fillings! I've become so addicted to making paninis that I've even bought a press for my kitchen at home, too.

So, what should you fill it with. Well, funny you should ask! You know how good Thai food has a perfect balance of the four flavours - salty, sweet, sour and spicy? I've worked out the formula for a perfect panini: something meaty, something tangy and something melty.

Try it: you can't go wrong! The meaty thing doesn't have to be meat, it's essentially anything with a lot of umami, like mushrooms. The melty thing is usually cheese, and a particularly robust cheese could be both meaty and melty. To get you started, here's my five favourites.

• Bacon, brie and onion relish.
• Chicken, goat's cheese and yellow pepper.
• Ham, mozzarella and sun-dried tomatoes.
• Tuna, mozzarella and rocket.
• Portobello mushroom, mozzarella and spinach.

There, that'll get you on your way. Now, go and be creative. Then come back and tell me your favourite inventions.

Pig-adilly

I started my evening at The Athenaeum at Picadilly by learning that Michael Winner had recently hated it and slated it. Strangely comforted and encouraged by this news, I looked forward to great things!

The evening began in the hotel bar, a plush, tucked-away little affair covered in mirrors. We were served plenty of canapes and nibbles with our cocktails. The cocktail I chose was amazing; in fact I had a second one to double-check and it's definitely delicious.

My first thought as we moved onto the restaurant was 'gosh, how tiny'. The small, rectangular room is strangely laid out, with American style banquettes and booths in the middle. It doesn't generate much atmosphere but ensures a quiet, private meal.

And what of the food? Well, my starter of chicken liver parfait with brioche toast was excellent, as was my husband's chilled beetroot soup. The amuse bouche and bread was also great. the wine list was pretty interesting and the service prompt, friendly and knowledgeable. But. The main course was average, bordering on forgettable. I ate sea bream with courgette mousse and something else which obviously traversed the border of forgetability! It was all ok, but could have been any fish, any mousse, any restaurant.

This is surprisingly common: restaurants with fantastic, showy trimmings and sub-standard mains. I won't hold it against the Athenaeum (7 out of 10 overall). On the other hand, it probably won't leap to the front of my mind next time I'm booking dinner.

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Tarty piece

The apple tree in our garden has been looking a bit over-burdened lately. Some branches hang out onto the road and we'll only need one pretty windy day to cause a traffic nightmare. Not to mention the fact that our garden's a bit of a kitty highway, and an apple on the head probably wouldn't do a cat much good.

So it's nice to see a glut of apple recipes in the food magazines this month. October's delicious. magazine arrived last week featuring a tempting French-style apple tart. On closer examination it turns out to be a quince and apple tart from Rick Stein's latest book. Helpfully, though, it does give an apple-only alternative.

It's dead easy: make an apple puree with some apples, caster sugar and a splash of water. Roll out some ready-made puff pastry and cut around a medium sized plate (the magazine recipe does give exact sizes and quantities, but I just used a large-ish side plate and about 4 small apples for the puree). Lay the pastry onto a greased baking sheet, prick it with a fork all over the centre and spread the apple puree over the top. Leave a little perimeter round the edge. Stick the whole thing in the fridge for a while.

In the meantime put the oven on - about 200c or whatever that is for gas ovens. Peel and thinly slice another 2 or 3 small apples. Take the tart out of the fridge and lay the slices on top in circles, overlapping slightly. Sprinkle a hefty amount of caster sugar over the top and bake it all for 30 minutes.

And that's it. There's something in Rick's recipe about glazing it with jam, but life's too short. It's nice hot, but better cold with a cup of tea or hot chocolate. Just sit back and think of Paris!

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Look what I won!

I always enter a couple of delicious magazine's prize draws without giving much thought to whether I'll win. So I was delighted when I recently won a copy of Yotam Ottolenghi's fantastic new book, Plenty.

Ottolenghi isn't a vegetarian but has become well-known for his sumptuous meat-free recipes. His upbringing in Israel and Palestine has armed him with fulfilling recipes starring vegetables and pulses in abundance.

The book is divided into chapters based on the main ingredient, such as squashes or aubergine, so you can base your choice on what's in season or what you've got growing in the garden.

The recipes seem straightforward and don't require masses of extra speciality ingredients. My favourite so far is 'tomato party' - a jumble of tomato varieties, some cooked, some raw, with couscous and fresh herbs.

Even if you aren't in the mood for cooking the book provides a great teatime read, the words just as sumptuous as the beautiful photos. It may not turn me into a vegetarian but it'll certainly encourage me to make vegetables the star turn more often.

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Salmorejo is obviously in fashion

Well, blow me down! I was thinking about salmorejo for weeks before I did some research and wrote my recipe. A couple of days later I noticed that Delia has written her own version for Waitrose's free weekly newspaper thing.

She gets right up my nose sometimes.

Delicious but disappointing

I'm a subscriber to delicious magazine; this is my third year as a regular reader. I'm not a big magazine reader, but I do enjoy articles about food. Plus I collect as many recipes as I can, and theirs are usually appealing and easy to follow.

I feel like it's been in an ever-so-slight rut just lately, though and I've noticed two worrying trends. For the first I blame Delia and her 'I'm too old for this - let's all cheat instead' campaign. To illustrate: I saw a recipe for jerk chicken with Caribbean rice. I though "ooh, I'd like to learn how to make jerk seasoning - that'd be handy". Imagine my disappointment when the first listed ingredient turned out to be jerk seasoning! Well, I'm not stupid - I know that if I buy some jerk seasoning and add it to chicken it'll become jerk chicken. What I don't know is how to make the seasoning from scratch. I do understand: the magazine is catering for all kinds of cooks, from the highly skilled to the 30-minute-throw-together-after-work. But wouldn't it be better to give the full recipe, then mention that there's a cheat if you can't face mixing and grinding spices?

The second trend is a strange reluctance to dictate food choices. Recipes end with a sentence along the lines of "Serve it with some mango chutney, if you like". If I like? Well yes, I can do anything I want if I like. I could serve my chicken curry with strawberry ice cream if the mood took me. When I buy a food magazine I'm really hoping it'll recommend the best accompaniments, or tell me how a chef has or would serve the dish. Not just give me permission to have chutney. I'm old enough to decide that myself!

NB: I'm still a delicious subscriber and I still thoroughly enjoy the magazine, which now has a brand new editor. Perhaps she'll help to brush it over the recent mini-rut.

Cinnamon, spice and all things nice

I'm a big fan of The Cinnamon Club in London, just near Westminster. It's consistently excellent and it's a pleasure to take people there for the first time, as I did last week.

Alarm bells rang when the restaurant phoned to confirm my booking and reminded me about the two-hour limit for the table. I hate feeling pressured to get off a table, and two hours passes quite quickly when you're talking and eating. We were actually there for almost three hours, though, and service was at a good, leisurely pace.

As for the food ... well, it didn't disappoint us. For my main course I ordered tandoori king prawns with saffron almond cream and rice. You've probably got an image in your head of a king prawn, and the chances are it's a pretty large and succulent one. I can promise you it's nowhere near as large as the ones I ate! Three prawns were enough to constitute a main meal, along with a very small portion of rice. The tandoori sauce was spicy without being overpowering and the almond cream provided some counter-balancing softness.

An honourable mention must also go to the delicious lime and mint sorbet accompanying my bitter orange tart for pudding.

My only gripe is that the special offer menu is never tempting enough to keep us away from the a la carte. It's a clever marketing ploy: offer a deal at a reasonable price to get people through the door, but make sure they'll spend more once they're in. But how about just offering 25% off the bill, so that we can experience the restaurant's signature food without having to remortgage the cat?

Not even apple day!

It's ages since I reviewed a product. But I've been moved to action by Cawston Press and their apple and ginger juice.

It's delicious, refreshing and feels as if it's doing all kinds of good!

Go on - give it a try (as Neil Hannon would say).

Cous cous I said so

Since I got back from Morocco, the question I've been asked most is "how was the food?" People ask it in an envious, anticipatory way as if I'm going to tell them tales of world-class cuisine. I'd expect such hushed reverence if I said I'd returned from, say, Paris or rural Italy. But Morocco?

Many of my holidays are based around food experiences: you've probably noticed by now I'm quite partial to food! But when I booked the trip to Morocco I wasn't expecting world-beating cuisine. It turns out I was astute in my expectations.

Ok - Moroccan cuisine has the potential to be fantastic. The country grows fantastic fresh produce and makes use of a wonderful array of spices. There's a few well-known national dishes - tagine, cous cous, pastille, kefta, harira - and they're often cooked very well indeed. But ... it's all a bit....well, samey.

We travelled quite extensively around the country, from the west coast across to the Sahara in the east, across the Atlas and back over to the southern west coast. We experienced busy modern towns, old medinas, small villages, tiny outposts and touristy ports. We ate in fancy restaurants, family-run riads, remote service stations, small cafes full of locals, tourist traps and mock-European places. And my overriding food memory of the country can be summed up in one word: tagine.

There's a few exceptions. The 'Berber pizza' is worth a try, and reminded me of a lamb pasty. Some of the traditional Moroccan salads presented as appetisers in all the typical riad restaurants are delicious. The seafood in places like Essaouira makes a real change and is perfectly cooked. But these things stick in my mind primarily because they're exceptions. Most lunchtimes, wherever we'd just arrived, the menu choices were tagine, cous cous or kefta. Always in the same order, too - "tagine, cous cous, kefta" - like a menu mantra!

I did have one outstanding tagine: spiced chicken pieces with onion and tomato topped with a fried egg. It made a change from the standard chicken and lemon, lamb or meatball ones. Of course, I can't for the life of me remember the name of it! Anyone?

During our stay we found a leaflet listing the top restaurants in Morocco. I don't know who did the choosing! We were fortunate enough to visit three of them during our stay. One was completely overrated, one was pretty good and one - Le Patio in Essaouira - was outstanding. I ate fish with an olive cream followed by a delicious apple tart. The food was a fusion of traditional Moroccan and European; it still made use of excellent local ingredients but broke away from the menu-mantra. I feel a bit sad that my favourite food experiences in the country were the non-authentic ones, but that's the way it was.

Before I went, I asked someone on Twitter how he'd enjoyed the same tour a few years ago. He said it was excellent but "there's only so many tagines you can eat". My sentiments precisely.

Chilled out Spanish style

It's a while since I've been to Spain and I'm suffering from withdrawal symptoms. I can barely hear a flamenco guitar without developing the shakes and starting to salivate.

There's one dish in particular I've had a craving for lately: salmorejo, a thick tomato soup-like sauce similar to gazpacho. I've never made it before but a quick search online gave me all the information I needed to fill the gaps in my knowledge.

The first thing I did was to tear a slice of stale bread into small pieces. I soaked it in one dessert spoon of white wine vinegar, a splash of water and a drizzle of olive oil. In the meantime I hard-boiled two eggs and cooked some asparagus (two minutes in a centimetre of boiling water with the saucepan lid on).

The only laborious bit is peeling tomatoes, a messy and tedious task. Next time I'm going to try with the skins on, and I'll let you know if it made a difference. Anyway, I chopped the peeled tomatoes, along with two small shallots.

Then comes the fun bit: blend the tomatoes, shallots and bread together with a little bit more olive oil, some black pepper and some paprika. A big electric blender would be ideal for this, so that you can drizzle in the extra oil and some water, if necessary, while it's going. I've only got a hand blender and a mixing bowl, however, so I got splattered quite a bit. My kitchen looked like a scene from a slasher flick by the time I'd finished.

After a few moments I wiped the tomato mush from my eyes and checked the consistency. You're looking for something like a very thick but smooth soup. Serve it in a shallow dish with the asparagus placed in the centre. For the final touches I grated the hard-boiled eggs over the top and added a few flakes of Serrano ham.

You absolutely have to serve it with crusty bread (a bit on the stale side if you want the authentic Spanish experience...) and a Spanish rose wine.

Things to do in Stansted when you're grounded

I always knew the time would come when hundreds of people would need my 'Stansted and surrounding area' restaurant reviews. And here it is: flights are still grounded across London because a volcano erupted in Iceland.

If you're stuck in the Stansted area with some time to spare and a rumbling stomach, try out some of these places I've written about in the past, all within easy reach of the airport by train, bus or cab.

Kim's Coffee House in Saffron Walden has a fantastic selection of tea and some great lunchtime snacks.

The Lemon Tree in Bishop's Stortford - a classy yet comfy restaurant with a traditional menu of well-cooked locally sourced delights.

The Cricketers in Clavering is a gastropub famous for giving birth to Jamie Oliver, or something.

Sandyford is a local vineyard, in Great Sampford where you'll always get a friendly welcome, a glass of good wine and some pretty views of the countryside.

Audley End House - an English Heritage stately home with lovely grounds and a good cafe. I can't promise apple-based food at this time of year, though.

Finally, there's a fantastic place called the Farmhouse Delicatessen in Stansted Mountfitchet. I've written about it many times but I can't find a post in which it's the nub and gist. It started solely as a deli, then added a few tables for lunchtime dining. It's now a fully-fledged cafe with a deli counter, and serves evening meals on Fridays and Saturdays (I think). The service is friendly and I'm never disappointed by the freshly-prepared local food.

Hope the skies clear soon ...

Spring, spring, spring

Spring is in the air and Easter is here, which immediately makes my food-brain turn to springy food. Eggs, asparagus, mushrooms, cabbage, watercress, beetroot, spring onions, etc.

One of my stand-by Easter lunches is scrambled eggs on toast with asparagus. It's dead easy to make and deliciously light. Add a bit of smoked salmon, if that's your bag.

Another favourite at this time of year is savoy cabbage and spring onions mixed into mashed potato, served with roast chicken or sausages. I may also try it with an oven-baked salmon fillet.

This evening's dinner will be tagliatelle with assorted mushrooms, spring onions, asparagus and a creamy sauce. Again it's awfully easy to make - just remember to add the cooked pasta into the sauce and vegetables, rather than pouring the sauce onto the pasta. It's the Italian way, apparently!

There: a whole post with no splash of red wine! Well, it's spring - rose or white would be far more appropriate ...

Soupy water

A colleague recently came into the office with a huge container full of carrots. Apparently she had a big bagful at home and felt obliged to munch them before they went off!

I immediately suggested she made carrot and coriander soup: it was my first thought. Other people later suggested carrot cake or batons to dip in hoummus, but I stuck to soup. I'm a very soupy person.

And then I realised I go around saying I'm 'soupy' but haven't made my own soup for ages and have a fairly limited repertoire of recipes.

So ... answers on a postcard, please. Let me know your favourite soup recipe by adding a comment here. And I'll make some, and tell you how I got on!

Cottage with an orange roof

I've just discovered cottage pie with sweet potato mash on top. Yes, I know I'm well behind the times!

Folk say it's better for you, but I'm not sure exactly why. In my book it just makes a nice change and tastes more interesting.

Cottage pie is surely one of the easiest and most satisfying things to cook. Just bung lean mince, chopped onions, carrots, beef stock and a bit of red wine in a frying pan and fry it until the mince is cooked. At the same time peel a couple of sweet potatoes, chop them into small cubes and boil them until soft and squishy. Mash the potato (on its own - no need for butter or any of that malarkey). Then you layer it all in an ovenproof dish with the potato on top and shove it into an oven for 20 minutes.

It makes great lunch leftovers too, and I've got a cunning tip for transporting it effectively. Set aside a small portion of each (mince mixture and potato) before it all reaches the oven. Place them side by side in a tupperware container to make sure it doesn't all go mixed-up and soggy. The next day, microwave the whole thing for a few minutes and layer it onto a plate, like a little orange-roofed cottage!

Moussaka for cattle farmers

Traditional Greek readers may wish to look away now.

A few weeks ago I had a sudden fancy for a moussaka. I didn't really know what one was and had never even it before, but saw a delicious-looking picture in Gordon Ramsay's World Kitchen.

Much to my disappointment I discovered it contains lamb mince, not a favourite in our house. But once I had the idea in my head I wasn't to be stopped and decided to try making one with beef instead.

The first stage is very similar to making a lasagne. I fried steak mince with chopped red onions, tomato puree, a dash of red wine, roughly chopped fresh tomatoes and loads of black pepper. At the same time I fried some thin slices of aubergine on the griddle pan, with very little oil.

At this stage I should explain how to make a delicious white sauce, but life really is too short. I bought a carton of fresh cheese sauce instead.

Then comes the fun bit: layer the aubergine, mince mixture then cheese sauce in a large ovenproof dish, finishing with the cheese sauce on top. I followed Gordy's suggestion of grating some cheddar on top too before putting it in the oven for about half an hour.

The result is probably woefully unfaithful to Greek cuisine, but delicious and warming. I served it with some focaccia and green salad, and lashings of red wine. It goes down perfectly on a rainy evening with plenty of quiz shows on TV.

Grazing obsession

The Graze box craze is no longer a craze! It has gone on long enough to become a way of life. In fact I can't imagine how I coped before!

Rather than the initial excitement and novelty, I now think of it as a hassle-free way of getting my requisite snacks for the week. Plus there's getting over the boredom factor by having someone else choose random treats for you.

Two very enthusiastic thumbs up.

Just brie!

It works just as well without the bacon, too. Just brie and the cranberry sauce. I'm just quality-checking it as I type!

I can't remember anything by The Cranberries

I can't be alone in my cranberry sadness. Every time I open the kitchen cupboard in January (sometimes even February and March) I look glumly at a languishing half-full jar of cranberry sauce, collecting dust.

I can't not buy it for Christmas dinner - roast turkey just wouldn't be the same with one trimming missing - but what does one do with it afterwards?

Well, never fear: I've discovered the delights of a brie, bacon and cranberry panini. Slice up some brie, add small pieces of cooked smoked bacon and smear on a dollop of cranberry sauce. Toast the whole thing in a sandwich or panini toaster and chomp it up! If you don't have a sandwich toaster, you could have the same filling in a baked ciabatta or just a sandwich.

And if you haven't got any leftover cranberry sauce? Make your own - it's incredibly simple. Put two handfuls of fresh or frozen cranberries into a saucepan with the juice of half an orange and one dessert spoonful of caster sugar. Heat it until the cranberries burst and it starts to look 'saucy'. Let it cool down a bit, then have a taste and add as many squirts of honey you need to make it sweet enough.

In fact this whole blog post has been a sham: I made my own cranberry sauce last Christmas and I don't even have an abandoned jar in the cupboard. But I can still sympathise with my former, cranberry-sad self.

Graze skies

Thanks to the delivery of the latest delicious magazine (I received the subscription as a Christmas present - hurrah!) I found out about Graze.

It's based on a simple premise: we know we should snack on small portions of delicious, nutritious nibbles throughout the day but we're too busy, lazy or unimaginative to provide ourselves with sufficiently tempting snacks. This is particularly pertinent for office workers, although I find I'm just as bad when I'm at home, personally.

Graze sends you a box of goodies, divided into 'just right' portions. They're certainly delicious and nutritious, aiming to provide at least one serving of fruit alongside something a bit more decadent. There's a huge range of snacks on offer, and you rate what you've received online; the bit where you browse the website and mark which food you love, like or want to try is almost as good as the eating bit! I spent a whole lunch hour rating snacks last week. It's worthwhile when your box arrives at the office containing the likes of wasabi coated peanuts and fresh pineapple slices.

The good news is that they're currently offering a free trial box, followed by one at half price. You do have to sign up, but it's easy to cancel or suspend deliveries at any time. Visit the Graze site and enter the code GB6C7QT to take advantage of the offer. The even better news is that for every 'friend' I recruit using this code, Graze will donate £1 to the Rainforest Alliance on our behalf.

Start grazing - it's the future.

Calendar girl

I love January. It's so ... new. I'm still on a high from Christmas (the turkey and mincemeat takes a while to leave my bloodstream) and everything is 'new for 2010', or whichever year we're beginning.

I don't, you understand, love it in a 'fresh start, new resolution, clean slate, start over' kind of way, as magazines and TV adverts tell me I should. That sounds ghastly - having to start afresh. I can't think why I'd want a clean slate, unless the year before had been particularly horribilis, like the one the Queen had that time.

Rather, I like January because I get to do the same all over again. It's like last year ... again. There's another winter, Easter and spring are just around the corner, Pimms will be in fashion again soon enough. Even Christmas will be along again before we know it.

I'm particularly excited about all the food I can eat again. Sad to eat the last mince pie? Never mind - the season will be around again at the end of this year. Missing pancakes? Shrove Tuesday is coming right up. Didn't get a chance to try all those fantastic salad recipes last summer? Never fear - a new year is here.

I love the predictibility and sameness of a new year starting. I'll start digging out all my old recipes in date order and getting excited about the approach of asparagus season, not to mention my delight when autumn's apple day comes a-knocking!

All good things

Sadly, St Alban restaurant ceased trading over Christmas. This is a shame for me, because I really enjoyed it, and a shame for this blog because I never did get around to reviewing it!

It's also sad as a general fact. If a top-class, comfy, imaginative, well-run restaurant can't make a decent business in London, what's going on? Ok, it was a little expensive but you certainly got what you paid for. I'd be hard-pressed to think of anywhere in London with better service, a more satisfying wine list or better ham. Even the toilets were an exciting experience.

All good things must come to an end, I suppose. I'm just glad I managed to fit in a last trip before it closed to perfect that imam bayildi recipe!