From Under my Pregnancy Rock

Wow, has it really been just over a month since I've thought about food?!
Ever since I dug my heels in and got into the first trimester of my pregnancy, my relationship with food fizzled. The spark went out quicker than a lit cigar in a shot of scotch. Just died. Of course, when it comes to pregnancy, every body talks about morning sickness and leaves everyone around them feeling queasy as they rehash the hours spent clutching the sides of their toilets, face in a place a face should never be.

I didn't experience that type of morning sickness, thank God. In fact, I can't even remember the last time I vomited (it's always been such a rare occurrence for me). My morning sickness has been the classic food aversion based on scents and craving foods that I've never eaten. One of my more bizarre cravings? Corn flakes with milk. Anyone who knows me, knows that I don't do milk. I was the weird kid who didn't eat cereal growing up because I do not like the taste, the smell, the texture of milk. I'm not overly keen on it now, but since getting pregnant, I have single-handedly boosted Mr. Kellog's stocks. Okay, maybe that's a slight exaggeration.

Still, my Corn flakes craving has been matched only by my craving for proper British roast potatoes smothered in lashings of gravy. Nom nom. Other than that, I've mostly not had an appetite. Most days, I've just been thinking, why bother with food? I don't feel hungry.

Just coming out of my first trimester now, I'm slowly gaining my appetite back, the nausea and the heartburn have (mostly) left the incubator and today the sight of bright pink, raw meat didn't make me gag. In fact, I cooked a whole dinner today without incident, all by myself, probably the first time since being pregnant. Actually, I cooked twice today! Small victories, folks; small victories.

So, in a rather large nutshell, that sums up where I've been. I've not given up on food or anything like that, but if this is any indication, I don't think my first born is going to be a chef. Anyway, how insane is it that I've already begun drafting my first post-giving birth meal?

Epic Post Popping Out Baby Meal
Hors d'oeuvres
sushi amuse bouche

Appetizers
pan-fried scallops wrapped in bacon and wilted spinach with lobster medallions

Mains
celeriac and potato mash with fine beans
roasted chicken with a red wine and blueberry jus

Dessert
vanilla ice cream by the bucket load*

Cheese Course
blue cheese and crudites

Drinks
a warm flirty red
a cold crisp white
a strawberry margarita

*vanilla ice cream isn't forbidden during pregnancy, but my little unborn one hates it. :(

Homemade Gluten Free Vanilla and Almond Biscotti

It's not every day I get to eat the food in my posts while writing my posts. Today, bliss of all bliss!, is one of those days and I am quite happily munching on a piece of homemade vanilla and almond biscotti--my first attempt at these tasty Italian cookies that usually accompany a steaming cup of tea or mug of coffee.

Cutting back on caffeine due to the pregnancy, I'm enjoying my biscotti with a few freshly washed grapes and some juice, and while I have refrained from dipping it in the juice, the texture of the biscotti tells me it would be fabulous dipped in milky coffee or tea.

 So, first off, I probably broke (and have a tendency to do so) the cardinal rule of baking, opting to use granulated sugar even when certain recipes call for caster sugar. At least this time, rationale lurks amongst my madness! You see, I think something that is full of texture and is supposed to have a rough elegance and look like its really been through the grindstone (like biscotti) needs the harsh, rough edges of granulated sugar.

Unlike a doughnut that just goes soft, when you dip a biscotti in your tea or coffee, you want to know it's there. You want to come across that nifty little crunch of almond or sugar and feel like everything is right with the world. At least, I do. Although, you may argue I put too much stock in the rejuvenating and stability-inducing effects of my food. :) So, for that reason (and because I refuse to buy caster sugar and because I would have been too lazy to pulse granulated sugar in my food processor to make it into caster sugar) I used granulated sugar.

Alright, enough with my evangelizing you and trying to convert you into a non caster sugar user! Here's what you need to make yummy biscotti at home:
2 eggs
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp baking powder
200 g gluten free  flour
175 g granulated sugar
2 tsp vanilla extract
150 g whole blanched almonds
vanilla sugar

Preheat your oven to 180C/355F.

Once you have all that on your counter, you need to roughly chop the almonds, leaving some whole. Of course, this seems like a waste of time, when you could have just bought blanched almond pieces, and to be honest, if it's going to cause you grief, chopping the little fellows up, then go ahead and buy the pieces. Whatever floats your boat and makes your cooking experience easier.

Next, you want to combine all of the dry ingredients in a bowl, mixing in the almonds.

Beat the eggs with the vanilla extract in a separate bowl and then add to the floury mixture. Combine to form a dough either by hand or using a food processor. Knead lightly and place onto a silicone baking tray or a lined baking tray in the shape of a log. Sprinkle vanilla sugar all over the dough, as much as you' like.

Pop in the oven for about 20 minutes. Once the first 20 minutes is up, allow to cool slightly.  Which means, when it's warm enough for you to touch, begin slicing it into pieces as thick or as thin as you'd like. Reduce the heat on the heaven to 160C/320F. Lay the pieces on their side on the baking tray and stick back in the oven for 10 to 15 minutes.

Let cool & enjoy with your favorite hot drink.

Gluten Free Tarragon Roasted Chicken Breast with Veg and Smoked Garlic Bechamel

If there is ever a mantra you hear when learning to cook, it is:

Learn how to make a good bechamel. It'll take you places.

That's certainly true. A bechamel is like the big momma of the sauce world. Formed from the basis of a roux (butter and flour), it is used in a lot of French cooking and is the tasty white sauce in the Italian classic dish, lasagna. Bechamel's are lovely because they are the palate's blank canvas: any combination of herbs and spices can be added to a bechamel to produce a truly stunning sauce that will marry all of the components of a well-cooked plate of food.

This dish of tarragon roasted chicken breast, roast potatoes and cabbage is elevated with a nice, full-bodied bechamel whose main flavor is oak-smoked garlic. I came across the garlic about a month or two ago while having brunch with friends in a cafe in Manchester. They had a display of oak-smoked garlic on the counter just as you walked in and your olfactory senses were assaulted with the lovely, sweet, woody scent for the duration of your stay. So strong was the scent and my craving for that garlic that by the time I left, I was shaking at the thought of getting my hands on it.

It made our car smell lovely and garlicky, as well as our fridge and when I finally got around to putting it into my bechamel, it very nearly made me shout out in glee. Yeah, it's that good.

Now, I'm more of a thin-to-slightly thick type of girl when it comes to bechamel. I don't always want my bechamel to be the gloopy consistency it can be in lasagnas, but I don't want it to be watery either. I like a perfect balance of smooth with a few lumps of bits in it. Now, whether this is how the French intended it is irrelevant. For me, this works best because everything (namely the chicken and the roasted potatoes) really absorb the sauce without being overpowered by it.

So this meal? Simple. All you need is chicken breast (or a whole chicken or whatever parts you want) good roasting potatoes diced into chunks and fresh cabbage, washed, drained and torn into medium-to-big pieces.

First off, you're going to want to get the potatoes peeled and diced and boiled to softened. Next, heat the oil or fat for roasting in the roasting tin. I started off using lard but I have since switched to a combo of unsalted butter and olive oil, which I think works best for my tastes and leaves the potatoes crunchy on the outside and extra light and fluffy inside.
After the butter and oil is heated, place the potatoes in the roasting tin. They should sizzle when they come in contact with the butter and oil. Turn once to coat and then roast about 35 to 40 minutes on 200 C/400F until done.

While the butter and oil is heating up, you want to sear the chicken breast. Heat up a dry pan until it is searingly hot and place the meat in the pan pressing down lightly (don't squeeze out the juice) and searing each side for three minutes before moving to a roasting tin and sprinkling with herbs and spices before putting in the oven with the potatoes.

Cabbage is such an easy vegetable and everybody like it a specific way, so just make it whichever way your prefer. I prefer doing it my mom's way: a little bit of butter and water in a stock pot, put the cabbage in and steam being sure to season extra well and add more butter and salt before serving. Simple.

Bechamel's dead easy: a cup of milk, a tablespoon of butter, a tablespoon of plain flour, garlic & tarrgon (or whatever herbs you want). Basically, you melt the butter in a saucepan, add the flour and stir with a wooden spoon until it forms a roux. Then gradually add the milk, now stirring with a whisk. After all the milk is in, add your chopped garlic, salt and pepper. Continue to stir until it reduces down to the thickness that you prefer. Finally, remove it from the heat & add the herbs. Give it a good stir & serve up.That's the simple way. If you really want the flavors to be prominent, then you need to begin by simmering the milk along with the herbs and spices over a low heat. Then set aside and follow the instructions as given.

Prawn & Mushroom Salad with Samphire & Baby Dill Potatoes

Like with anything, there are trends in food. If you're like me and you're a slave to cookery reality shows (MasterChef, Hell's Kitchen & a classic Nigella or Barefoot Contessa) then you're aware of this. Food trends, like the eternally youthful, follow the seasons. When its time to brace for the chill of winter, you're likely to see rustic ingredients lining the benches of TV's greatest chefs. Usually misshapen, colorful squashes and root vegetables or earthy, spices like nutmeg.

One such food trend I have been following for a long time is samphire. Samphire is referred to as a sea bean. It is a spindly, green vegetable that looks like a mangled anorexic green bean mated with asparagus spears. Originally used in the 14th century to make glass (when it was referred to as glasswort), samphire is now making a return to the forefront of society in the realm of cookery. It has a delicate taste that's subtle and salty. There are two types of samphire--rock and marsh. Rock samphire is the type that was used to make glass and is inedible.

I first came across samphire, I am thrilled to say, unexpectedly in Asda (Walmart). Wandering through the produce aisle, I saw it. It was displayed in the refrigerated section with sugar snap peas and other waxy green beans. Without hesitation, I plucked up a pack and tossed it into the shopping cart. "We have to try this," I said to my boyfriend who stared at this odd spindly mass of sea fringe. Long since having relented to my adventures in cooking, he shrugged and made no comment.

A few days later and after brief research into the tasty sea treat, it boiled in a pot of slightly salted water on my stove, waiting to be paired with a salad of pan-fried prawns and mushrooms (cooked in groundnut oil) and boiled baby potatoes smattered with sea salt and dill.

The flavors were exquisite. Something really great happens when you combine the salty freshness of the samphire with seafood. The earthiness of the mushrooms and the potatoes worked nicely as well to balance it and created a modern take on a surf and turf dish. I particularly enjoyed the depth the dill brought the dish. It elevated everything and you had the sweetness of the dill meeting the almost sour saltiness of the samphire and the prawns in a beautiful way.

I believe samphire is definitely going in my arsenal of must cook with again ingredients.

I'm looking forward to trying it with some scallops and a red wine jus ... alas, that dish will have to wait until this pregnancy is over.

Gluten Free Celeriac and Potato Mash with Cabbage and Roasted Chicken

There are foods you grow up eating and then there are foods you discover. Most often, the former carries a greater sense of importance and realism especially if you aspire to have a life somehow centered around food.

Celeriac is a food that I discovered, not without prompting from television cookery shows, of course. While browsing a local fruit and veg stand for dinner accompaniments one afternoon a few weeks ago, I saw it. It was sitting there with the potatoes and the mushrooms, looking like an out-of-place, small-scale meteor. Instantly, I went over to it and ran my fingers across its tough skin and fantasized about slicing into it and discovering what it was made of. I happily added to the mix of arugula, radicchio and fennel in my basket and proceeded to checkout.

When the time came to slice into the celeriac, I grabbed the newest addition to my knife family, a splurge purchase: a santoku knife, and delved into the celeriac's thick root skin, forcing the milky flesh away from the hull.  

When I finally got inside, I was reminded of a dried coconut. Although celeriacs are very heavy, the flesh is light and porous. In fact, it floats, like a life raft. You should have seen it in my pot, just buoying and bobbing up and down as the water came to a boil, until it submitted to the heat and began to cook.

The smell it emits ... is interesting, unmistakable and very nearly indescribable. I felt like a witch pouring over a steaming cauldron of potion while cooking this. It has this ... heady, earthy, almost terrifyingly fantastic smell. It smells sinister and intriguing, like nothing I've ever cooked with before. Slightly peppery. It's been described as being foul smelling ... I'm not sure if I would agree with that 100 percent. While it was a bit foul and while it did leave my house smelling of its unusual scent for days, I'm not sure I hated it.

 When it came to preparing it for serving, I stuck with a tried and true classic: pairing it with potatoes to make a mash. Simple, yet the taste was elevated.

The celeriac added an earthiness to the potatoes that the spuds were enviable of, I'm sure. It added an interesting pow. Not one that I would want every time I ate mashed potatoes, but every now and again it wouldn't be too bad.

Anyway, dished up with steamed, buttery cabbage and tarragon-covered pan-seared, roasted chicken breast.

I personally think the tarragon, which was sprinkled over everything, added a nice hint of flavor to the celeriac. I think the two ingredients played off of each other's pepperyness and really elevated it. It might be worth considering mixing tarragon throughout the mash next time.

To recreate this meal, you need: chicken breast, dried tarragon, cabbage, two or three good-sized potatoes, one celeriac, milk, white cheese, salt and pepper.

Cut the flesh away from the celeriac's skin, dice and boil for about 15 minutes until tender. Meanwhile, in another pot, boil the peeled and diced potatoes for about 15 minutes until tender. While the root vegetables are boiling, sear the chicken in a hot pan. Then put the chicken in the oven at about 180C/350F for 20 minutes in a pan of butter and olive oil. Baste every now and then to keep from drying out.

Strain the root vegetables and cook the cabbage however you'd like. I like to steam mine and add a little salt, pepper and butter. Mash the potatoes and celeriac together, add in a glug of milk, salt and pepper, cheese and any other secret weapons you use when making homemade mash potatoes.

Top with dried tarragon and serve.

Three Meat Cannelloni Casserole

One of the coolest things about preschool was making pasta necklaces. You remember it, don't you? You'd come into the classroom and there would be seemingly millions of bowls of brightly colored pasta all in different shapes and sizes. I was the type of kid, whose hands twitched (literally) with excitement when I was near something I was thrilled about.

Without fail, my enthusiasm would get the better of me and I would immediately lurch for the bowls of pasta, grabbing at the shapes as if they were treasures and not cleverly disguised food. Of course, my zealousness always sent me to the corner (this was before naughty steps and before ridiculous research suggested that banishing kids to corners of rooms caused low self esteem) and I had to wait a whole two minutes before being allowed to join the group!

The maverick that I was at three, felt like this was an unjust punishment, for my only transgression had been to be excited about learning! (They were using those brightly colored pasta pieces to help us develop our motor skills and our dexterity, weren't they?) Why I should be made to stand with my nose against a wall while my classmates plucked up the good pasta always confused me. Alas, some 20-odd years later, while standing in my kitchen, stuffing a concoction of meat and vegetables into cannelloni pasta, I was reminded of my edible jewelry making days.

Three meat cannelloni casserole is what I'm calling it. The original recipe, swiped from a comfort foods cookbook, called it something else, but, like always, I have adapted this recipe.

This is one of those, home-y meals, where measurements aren't important. For that reason, and the fact that I didn't bother with measurements and I can't be bothered to go downstairs to the kitchen to get the original recipe, I'll let you work out your own measurements.

What you'll need:

• Three types of ground (minced) meat--I used pork, beef and turkey.
• A carrot
• An onion
• Oil of your choice
• A can of peeled plum tomatoes. You'll need to chop these.
• A box of cannelloni pasta
• Salt and pepper
• Oregano
• Basil
• A packet of cheese ( I used cheddar because it's what I had on hand. But I'd suggest Dutch Edam, because it gives you those long, melty cheese strings that Italian food is known for.)
• You'll also need to make a bechamel. None of that going out and buying pre-made white sauce; bechamel's easy to make and if you learn how to make a good one, you'll use it over and over again
  
  For your bechamel (measurements are important):
• 500 ml milk
• 3/4 cup flour
• 3 tablespoons butter

 Method:

1. Fry the diced onion and carrots in oil until soft. I left the carrots kind of big because I like the texture they bring to the dish, but you can make both as fine as you'd like.
2. Add the tomatoes and generous helpings of salt, black pepper, oregano and basil.
3. Add all of the mince, being sure to break up any large pieces. Stir occasionally and let cook for about 20 minutes until cooked through. Once cooked, set aside to cool.
4. Meanwhile, preheat your oven to 180 C/350 F. 
5. Prepare your bechamel by melting the butter in a saucepan over low heat. Add in the flour and stir until a roux is formed. Then gradually, whisk in the milk. After all the milk is whisked in, stir the sauce until it thickens.
6. Pour a bit of the bechamel into the bottom of a casserole dish/roasting tray.
7. Stuff each cannelloni needed until you have one layer in your dish. Spread any leftover stuffing mix over the top of the cannelloni, cover with the remaining sauce, a bit of oregano and basil, handfuls of cheese and then bake for about 20 minutes or until cooked through.
8. I serve it with garlic flatbread.

P.S. Apologies for being away! But I was still cooking while I was gone, so I have an arsenal of posts to create and recipes to share including pork and pease pudding, seafood risotto and a celeriac dish!

Gluten Free Mexican Lasagna

If I had to choose two global cuisines to rule the world, they would Italian and Mexican, respectively. Although, Mexican food only falls into second place slot of my Best Ethnic Cuisine of All Time list, this dish, an interpretation of a Nigella Lawson recipe, is good enough to make me reconsider my ranking.
Me and Mexican food. Me and tacos, taquitos, burritos, enchiladas, fajitas ... we go way back. I'm sure by now, you're aware of my infatuation with Italian food, and my opinion that it is the single greatest cuisine on the planet ... so, what could be better than marrying the pizazz of spicy, colorful Mexican food with the carbby, rich, decadent palate of Italian food?
I present to you the greatest, Friday night dish ever: Mexican Lasagna with avocado dip.

Mmmm mmmm mmm.
What you need to make this mouthwatering and tummy-filling meal:

an avocado
a red bell pepper
green chillies (as much as you can handle)
coriander (cilantro)
sweet corn
black beans
a can of chopped tomatoes
1/2 an onion
ground nut oil
spicy cheese
gluten free corn tortillas
chili powder
Mexican flavored chicken breast from the deli
lime juice
spring onions (scallions)
a bit of lemon juice just to keep the avocado from discoloring

There are no measurements because this is the kind of dish that you fill with all the things you like and use less of the things you don't like. This is the kind of dish that will turn out fantastic no matter if you use twice as many black beans and just a few ounces of corn or if you scrap the corn altogether! Experiment and make it to reflect your tastes, not mine.

Method

Fry the peppers, onion and chopped, deseeded chillies in the groundnut oil. Salt and cook until tender.

Boil the black beans and the corn together according to the instruction on the black bean package. Strain and topped pour into a bowl and top with a generous portion of the cheese. Cover.

Add a generous serving of coriander and tomatoes with a little bit of water to the pan with the onions and chillies and allow to bubble away for about 10 minutes.

Layer to make your lasagna:
Take one tortilla shell and place it in the bottom of your dish. (I used a circular Pyrex.)
The spoon over 1/3 of the tomato/onion mixture. Top with a few pieces of chicken and some cheese. Layer another tortilla and spoon over 1/3 of the black bean mixture. Top with chicken and cheese. Continue on this way until you have used all the ingredients that you would like to use, ending with a tortilla.

Bake in a preheated oven for 30 minutes at 200 degrees C/400 degrees F.
For the avocado dip:
Mix the avocado with a bit of lemon juice, lime juice, spring onions, coriander and some chopped chillies if you'd like. You can make this as chunky or as smooth as you like. Pack into a bowl and refrigerate until the lasagna is finished. Serve on the side with sour cream or dolloped on top.

Do you know the (blueberry) Muffin Man?

Do you know the (blueberry) Muffin Man?




The Muffin Man aka Mambru, for all my Hispanic readers, may live on Drury Lane, but the Blueberry Muffin Man and his whole little muffin family lives in my kitchen belly. These little guys were so moist and delectably delicious and vaguely lemony with a hint of vanilla. Blissful way to end a Monday, let me tell you.

There's no point in me giving you a recipe for blueberry muffins. You're bound to have some indeed, but, enjoy the photos of my adorable blueberry muffin men. I'm planning on making a whole army of them once the blueberries get a little sweeter!

For those of you who don't like the idea of eating little men.

Here are the bulbous babies from the front.

And with more definition from the back.















Okay, go make some!

Pan-fried Patagonian Sea Scallops with Bacon

I've only very recently come to know (& love) scallops. It was a crash-course in tastes, actually. I first had them in paella at a Spanish restaurant in Manchester.

Before then, I always avoided them, shoved them onto the boyfriend's plate and happily munched away on everything else.

I've always been a picky eater and I'm starting to realize that that's a bit unfortunate. I'm hoping to expand my palate and to try new things, one grimacing bite at a time. Most recently it was the scallops. I was surprised by how fishy they were, which for most picky seafood eaters is a no-go, but for me, it was a tick under the right column. I love their fishyness. I love that they're firm but not too firm. They look like they should be gooey. They look like mini orbs of panacotta. They look unappetizing. Well, I should say the looked unappetizing. Now, I'm their biggest fan.

There's this ... culinary canon of dishes people who have not been trained as a chef are always wary to try cooking. It's normally things like: cheesecake, meringue, risotto, scallops. Some conniving (and insanely smart) chef started spewing the rumor that these foods were difficult to prepare. As a result, homecooks shy away from them and we all flock to restaurants for our fill of these dishes thought best left to the pros.

I'll admit, I first felt that way when it came to tackling the scallops. But, my gusto and my memory of how divine they tasted (plus the fact that they were on sale at the supermarket this week) all combined and saw me in my kitchen, plopping these babies into a wok of warmed olive oil.

I fried them, splashed on some lemon juice and a bit of white wine and added some diced bacon. I had intended to wrap the bacon in the scallops but the scallops, as you can see were far too small. Next time I prepare them, I'll prepare them as originally intended.

Everything else went according to plan. They were served on a bed of salted, steamed savoy cabbage with a baked potato added for sustenance. It was simple, quick, flavorful and delicious. I have no complaints.

Afternoon Memory by Gary Soto

It occurred to me the other day that I don't post enough food poems on here.
So here, you are, one of my most favorite poems about food. Click the link to hear him read.

Afternoon Memory by Gary Soto

Sometimes I'll look in the refrigerator
And decide that the mustard is vaguely familiar,
And that the jar of Spanish olives is new to me.
What's this gathering? The butter
And salsa, the two kinds of tortillas
And, in back, the fat-waisted Mrs. Butterworth.
I'll study the plate of cross-legged chicken,

And close the refrigerator and lean on the kitchen counter.
Is this old age? The faucet drips.
The linoleum blisters when you walk on it.
The magnets on the refrigerator crawl down
With the gravity of expired coupons and doctor bills.
Sometimes I'll roll my tongue in my mouth.
Is this thirst or desire? Is this pain
Or my foot going to sleep? I know the factory
Inside my stomach has gone quiet.
My hair falls as I stand. My lungs are bean plants
Of disappearing air. My body sends signals, like now:
A healthy fleck is floating across my vision.
I watch it cross. It's going to attack a virus
On the right side of my body
And, later, travel down my throat to take care of knee,
Little latch of hurt. I swallow three times.
I have to help my body parts. Fellas, sour liver
And trusty kidney, I'm full of hope.
I open the refrigerator.
I've seen this stuff before. What's this?
The blow dart of bran? Chinese ginger?
No, fellas, they're carrots. The orange, I hear,
Is good for your eyes.