Jane Green's Blog, page 131

Martha Stewart's Tomato Tart

Ingredients

Serves 8

* 4 large heads garlic

* 3 tablespoons olive oil

* All-purpose flour, for dusting

* Shortcrust pastry or pie crust

* 2 ounces Italian fontina cheese, grated (about 1/2 cup)

* 1 1/2 pounds firm but ripe tomatoes (4 medium), cored and sliced 1/4 inch thick

* Coarse salt and freshly ground pepper

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Drizzle oil on garlic heads, wrap them in aluminum foil and bake for one hour. Remove and set aside until cool. When cool enough to handle, slice off the ends and squeeze the cloves out into a bowl. Mash with a fork.

On a lightly floured surface, roll out dough to a 1/8-inch-thick circle, about 12 inches in diameter. With a dry pastry brush, brush off the excess flour; roll the dough around the rolling pin, and lift it over a 10-inch tart pan with a removable bottom. Line the pan with the dough, pressing it into the corners. Trim the dough so that it is flush with the edges; transfer to the refrigerator to chill, about 30 minutes.

3. Spread roasted garlic evenly on the chilled crust. Sprinkle with half of the cheese. Arrange the tomatoes on top of the cheese, in an overlapping circular pattern. Season with salt and pepper. Sprinkle with remaining cheese, and drizzle with remaining 2 tablespoons oil. Transfer to oven. Reduce temperature to 400 degrees. and bake until crust is golden and tomatoes are soft but still retain their shape, 45 to 55 minutes. Transfer to wire rack to cool for 20 minutes, and serve warm.

Read more at www.marthastewart.com

Chana Masala

1 onion, finely chopped

3 cloves garlic, finely chopped

1/2 teaspoon Curry powder

1/2 teaspoon Ground Coriander

1/2 teaspoon Cumin

1/2 teaspoon Ginger

1/2 teaspoon Garam Masala

Chilli powder to taste

1 can of chick peas with juice

2 tablespoons lemon juice

1 cup chopped tomatoes

Cilantro to serve (optional)

Sautee the onions and garlic until soft, then add all the spices. Add the tomatoes, chick peas, lemon juice. Bring to boil, then turn down and simmer uncovered for 15 minutes to reduce the juices. Garnish with Cilantro leaves to serve.

More Food…Must be the Weather.

I am quite proud of the fact that, on the whole, my children will eat just about anything. Twin B professes to hate anything that isn't covered in cheese and delivered in a box, but generally if I put food in front of him he will protest for ages, until he realises that he isn't getting anything else.

As I tell them repeatedly: I am not a short order cook. I absolutely don't mind if they choose not to eat the food I prepare, but there isn't anything else, so it's their choice. I've also found that limiting, or indeed eliminating, snacks between meals, gives me a huge advantage: when they get to mealtimes they are generally hungry enough that they will eat.

Eldest Son turned to me last week and announced that he loves chickpeas. I was stunned, and a little delighted. The next day I found myself at the Farmer's Market, where a farm up in Roxbury was selling, amongst other things, little tubs of homemade Chana Masala – an Indian dish made with chickpeas, tomatoes and spices.

I love Indian food. All English people love Indian food. Sunday nights just aren't Sunday nights without a curry. I love America, am proud to now call myself an American, but walk past an Indian restaurant and my English genes shoot up to the forefront and I have to be dragged away.

I tend to be a little careful about Indian food these days. It is cooked with tremendous amounts of Ghee – clarified butter, or, in the vegan version, with oil. I can never resist the Nan and Paratha breads, and I find myself lying in bed the next morning staring in horror at my extended stomach, and vowing to not give in to my cravings for, oh, at least another week.

At the Dreamy Dinner Party we had on Friday night – and the food, by the way, was delicious – one of our guests brought a giant salad. We put it in the fridge whereupon we promptly forgot about it, largely because there was so much food, by the time we finished the main course we were all pretty much stuffed.

I serve salad after the main course, which isn't nearly as sensible as serving it before. Far better to fill up on salad and have a little bit of the rich main course, but of course living sinfully is much more fun, and so the salad was forgotten about.

Today though, we will have the salad for lunch, and I looked hopefully for protein to go with it. Finding none, I hit upon the idea of making my own Chana Masala. I read a number of different recipes, astonished at how different they are. Most have tomatoes, some none. Some have ginger, others paprika, others lime.

I took what I liked and cooked it in the way it made sense to me. I had no onions, and used shallots instead, which is one of the keys to successful cooking, I believe: don't be afraid to make changes and work with what you have. It's your kitchen; don't let it intimidate you, and if it goes wrong, it's really not the end of the world.

A case in point: last week was the anniversary of my friend Heidi's death. We went to her house for dinner with her husband, and I brought dessert. Her husband is not a fan of white sugar or flour, and so I decided to make up a vegan dessert. I had a packet of coconut flour in the pantry which I have never used, and thought how brilliant it would be to make a pastry with it.

I made an almond cream of almond butter with some tofutti cream cheese and stevia (which I have never used before, and now I know why...), spread it in the pastry case, and spread thinly sliced apples and cinnamon over the top, drizzling it with Maple Syrup before baking it on 350 for 40 minutes. It looked and smelled delicious. Except...a bit of pastry broke off when I removed it from the oven so I tasted it, and... Well. I should be honest here. It was DISGUSTING. I should have binned the whole thing, but I thought - no, desperately hoped - that the almond cream and apples would hide the taste of the disgusting pastry, and I couldn't take a slice to test it out because that would have looked awful, so I just braved it.

Heidi's Husband, or HH, made the most wonderful fish. Other friends brought sides and salads. When it was time for dessert I warned the table that I didn't think it was very good, then took a bite, and pushed my plate away, warning the others off. In fact, I was positively pleading with them not to try it. It was a disaster. The men were talking amongst themselves, and instead of heeding my advice, SuperShopper and Sportsgirl both took bites, assuring me it would be fine.

They chewed silently, heads on one side, clearly trying to think of how to let me down gently.

'It's...not that bad,' SuperShopper said tentatively, at which point Sportsgirl's husband looked down and noticed the plate.

'Don't eat it,' I laid a hand on his arm. 'Please. It's not good.'

'Don't be silly, it looks delicious,' he said, forking a large forkful into his mouth.

'Oh LORD', he shouted. 'That is NASTY.'

He was right. It was, truly, nasty. I laughed so hard I almost fell off my chair. But the moral of the story is sometimes you mess up, and that's fine. Sportsgirl's husband will doubtless tease me about this forever, but next time I'm bringing dessert I will load it up with so much butter, sugar and chocolate, he will be in seventh heaven, and all will be forgiven.

Failing that, I might invite him over for some Chana Masala, because I've just finished making it, and right now I'm in seventh heaven myself...



Chana Masala

1 onion, finely chopped

3 cloves garlic, finely chopped

1/2 teaspoon Curry powder

1/2 teaspoon Ground Coriander

1/2 teaspoon Cumin

1/2 teaspoon Ginger

1/2 teaspoon Garam Masala

Chilli powder to taste

1 can of chick peas with juice

2 tablespoons lemon juice

1 cup chopped tomatoes

Cilantro to serve (optional)

Sautee the onions and garlic until soft, then add all the spices. Add the tomatoes, chick peas, lemon juice. Bring to boil, then turn down and simmer uncovered for 15 minutes to reduce the juices. Garnish with Cilantro leaves to serve.

Post script to the Dinner Party and for those who requested photographic proof…delicious!!

As promised, a bowl of creamy roses, and couldn't resist the hyacinths, even though Spring a loooong way away...

Usually I would slice tomatoes for the tart, but I had cherry tomatoes I needed to use up

Short ribs on a potato round, with brussel sprouts and horseradish cream

But Mom! I really, really love it…

Every now and then the disorganisation in my home threatens to undo me. Most of the time I manage, clearing piles of papers - homework, letters I've forgotten about, bills, invitations that require responses - into closets, supposedly temporarily, when people are coming for dinner, and then of course I find them months later, sometimes years, and I make a mental note to do something about my organisational skills.

I like living in a very tidy, organised house. Sadly I am a very untidy, disorganised person, and it is a daily battle to create a home I actually want to be in, rather than one my natural disposition would suggest. My habits of stuffing crap into closets is one I really need to break, particularly because they are now all full, and our move in to Figless Manor in May fills me with horror. I spend vast amounts of time standing in the house looking at piles of stuff hiding in closets, feeling overwhelmed. Too overwhelmed, naturally, to clear them out, so I close the door and attempt to forget about them until the next time.

This week The Chef - who is spectacularly organised - and I met for lunch.

'I'm coming over on Wednesday,' she stated. 'You and I are going to go through your house and get rid of all the stuff. Two rooms at a time.'

I gasped, in joy, tinged with more than a little amount of fear.

On Wednesday she came over and we started with the kitchen. Dishes I have never liked and do not use, bowls that were gifts and not quite my thing, plates that are chipped but I hadn't got around to getting replacements. Then the dreaded Craft Cupboard: piles of precariously balanced bags of crayons and markers, papers shoved into every available space, canvases half-painted by the Smalls. We reserved one basket for one bag of markers and one box of crayons, and the rest went into garbage bags, or boxes for Goodwill.

We moved to the desk drawers, which Twin A has claimed on his own, and has filled with all his bits and pieces of Star Wars Lego. Twin A is very cool, I am starting to realise. He is a bit of a boffin, who is rather quiet, but watches everything and knows all, although he only chooses to reveal his knowledge when it suits him. Yesterday I was talking to the twins about music they like.

'Do you like Justin Bieber?' I asked.

'Ew, no,' came the unanimous response.

'Jonas Brothers?'

Same response.

I moved on through Demi Lovato, Miley Cyrus and Selena Gomez, the latter getting a 'kinda'.

'Who do you like then?'

There was a pause, before Twin A said, in his serious little seven-year-old voice. 'Lynard Skynard.'

I barked with laughter. 'What? How do you even know about Lynard Skynard?' He shrugged as I meanly decided to test him. 'Okay then, what songs of theirs do you like?'

'Freebird,' he said, which shut me up entirely.

I have a new-found respect for my little Lynard Skynard fan, and didn't have the heart to get rid of any of his beloved Lego pieces, so we organised them neatly and moved them out of the 18th Century very beautiful writing desk, and into a Pottery Barn basket. But the clearing of the toys gave me an idea. I looked at The Chef, The Chef looked at me.

'Are you ready?' she asked, and I nodded, as we both trooped into the Playroom.

I have not thrown anything in the Playroom away since we moved here four years ago. Every time I try I am met with, 'but Mom! I really, really love it.' This can be said about a Clone Wars costume for four-year-olds that no-one has even looked at for four years, but still, I am not allowed to throw anything away.

As the children sat in their classrooms, innocent of the evil crimes being committed at home, we tipped huge baskets of plastic stuff into garbage bags and discussed what we would tell the children, who would, we were sure, go ballistic when they arrived home and saw the giant bins all gone. We decided the best course of action was to say one of the cats got sick and used the baskets - all of them - as a cat lit tray. We figured it would gross them out enough that they would agree the only thing to do was to throw everything away.

We sent out boxes and boxes, and bags and bags. We stuffed them into the car and took them to Goodwill and The Dump, and congratulated ourselves on a job well done. There was a room behind all the plastic junk, and quite a nice one. Who knew?

The Smalls came home from school. It was raining, and after homework they scampered into the playroom to watch TV. They watched TV, came in for a snack, went back. At five O'clock their father's babysitter arrived to pick them up, and they kissed me goodbye and left.

I phoned The Chef. 'Are you okay?' she whispered. 'Did they go nuts?'

When I told her they hadn't even noticed we both started laughing. Next week we are planning to hit their bedrooms. Oh God. Something tells me it may not go quite the same way...

Dreamy Dinner Parties

Last week we went to some new friends for a dinner party. I thought it would be much like the dinner parties I have here, which usually involve Smalls, and even when they don't, tend to be centred around the kitchen island while I do the last minute stuff, before moving to the large table in the kitchen. I may have a candle lit for a delicious smell, but I realised, when we went to these friends, that I haven't done it properly for ages.

They did it properly. Their house is an antique farmhouse, much like we are attempting to build with Figless Manor, although theirs is rambling, with the authentic charm and nooks and crannies that come with an old house. We walked in to rooms lit by candles, with soft music playing in the background. The candles cast a warm glow over their beautiful home: books everywhere, gleaming wooden stationery boxes and antique tea caddys, wonderful paintings and original photographs, and objets d'art they have collected over the years.

We gathered in the kitchen as our hostess piled ricotta and prosciutto onto toasted baguette, topping it off with roasted tomatoes straight from the oven. We moved into the living room and sat chatting as we helped ourselves to slices of tomato tarte tatin and toasted noodles dipped in seaweed salt.

In to the all-white dining room, where a huge ornate glass chandelier wrapped in a circle of stiff gauze threw light off the white plates, the dark pink orchids, the bowls of Squash soup with homemade bread. We followed with thin slices of rare steak with a reduction of leeks and lima beans, then back into the living room where our host built a fire as we tucked in to apple compote with cinnamon ice-cream.

Everything was delicious, and magical, and special. It was special because of the thought and time they had put in, not just to the food, but to creating the beauty, and ambience. I haven't done a dreamy dinner party for a while, but we have friends tomorrow night, and instead of doing the usual sitting around the kitchen table, we will be having drinks and hors d'oeuvres in the living room, moving to the dining room for dinner. I plan on buying armfuls of creamy white roses and putting them in a crystal bowl for the centre of the table, lighting candles on every surface, creating an evening that feels special.

For hors d'oeuvres I am making Martha Stewart's tomato, garlic and fontina cheese tart, and my new friend's ricotta and prosciutto, but on the thinnest of crackers, and with some mango-chutney I made the other week.

We will start with the Cauliflower soup from Promises to Keep, drizzled with truffle oil, and a no-knead bread with Caraway seeds, from the original recipe by Jim Lahey of the Sullivan Street Bakery. It's the only bread recipe I use, because it's foolproof, and you don't have to understand the science of yeast, and starters, and prooving, which I don't. I have been attempting a sourdough starter for the last three weeks, and nothing's rising, so I am back to this no-knead bread which always works, adding Caraway seeds because I love them with Cauliflower

. Next are slow braised short-ribs with a horseradish cream found at www.smittenkitchen.com, creamed potatoes and brussel sprouts sauteed with pancetta.

My friend The Photographer is bringing an Apple Crostata for dessert, and I have made a ginger ice-cream with nuggets of crystallised ginger, to go with.

I have done all the cooking today, so tomorrow is the fun part: dressing the house, and choosing the music, and settling down with a big glass of Prosecco while we wait for our guests to arrive...

Martha Stewart's Tomato Tart

Ingredients

Serves 8

* 4 large heads garlic

* 3 tablespoons olive oil

* All-purpose flour, for dusting

* Shortcrust pastry or pie crust

* 2 ounces Italian fontina cheese, grated (about 1/2 cup)

* 1 1/2 pounds firm but ripe tomatoes (4 medium), cored and sliced 1/4 inch thick

* Coarse salt and freshly ground pepper

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Drizzle oil on garlic heads, wrap them in aluminum foil and bake for one hour. Remove and set aside until cool. When cool enough to handle, slice off the ends and squeeze the cloves out into a bowl. Mash with a fork.

On a lightly floured surface, roll out dough to a 1/8-inch-thick circle, about 12 inches in diameter. With a dry pastry brush, brush off the excess flour; roll the dough around the rolling pin, and lift it over a 10-inch tart pan with a removable bottom. Line the pan with the dough, pressing it into the corners. Trim the dough so that it is flush with the edges; transfer to the refrigerator to chill, about 30 minutes.

3. Spread roasted garlic evenly on the chilled crust. Sprinkle with half of the cheese. Arrange the tomatoes on top of the cheese, in an overlapping circular pattern. Season with salt and pepper. Sprinkle with remaining cheese, and drizzle with remaining 2 tablespoons oil. Transfer to oven. Reduce temperature to 400 degrees. and bake until crust is golden and tomatoes are soft but still retain their shape, 45 to 55 minutes. Transfer to wire rack to cool for 20 minutes, and serve warm.

Read more at www.marthastewart.com

Cauliflower and Parmigiano soup with truffle oil

* 2 ounces chopped pancetta

* 1 cup chopped onion

* 3/4 cup chopped celery

* 3 garlic cloves, chopped

* 1 head cauliflower

* 3 1/2 cups chicken broth

* 1-inch cube Parmigiano, or any other strong cheese. I made this with Gorgonzola recently and it was AMAZING. Reserve some cheese to sprinkle over the top to serve.

* 1/2 cup half and half

* White or black truffle oil (for drizzling)

Sauté pancetta until brown. Add onion, garlic and celery and cook until vegetables are soft - a little over five minutes. Add cauliflower, broth and cheese. Bring to boil and simmer, covered, for around 20 minutes.

Puree soup with a hand-held blender, add half and half. When ready to serve, ladle into bowls, drizzle with truffle oil and sprinkle cheese on top.

No-knead bread

Time: About 1½ hours plus 14 to 20 hours' rising

3 cups all-purpose or bread flour, more for dusting

¼ teaspoon instant yeast

1¼ teaspoons salt

Cornmeal or wheat bran as needed.

1. In a large bowl combine flour, yeast and salt. Add 1 5/8 cups water, and stir until blended; dough will be shaggy and sticky. Cover bowl with plastic wrap. Let dough rest at least 12 hours, preferably about 18, at warm room temperature, about 70 degrees.

2. Dough is ready when its surface is dotted with bubbles. Lightly flour a work surface and place dough on it; sprinkle it with a little more flour and fold it over on itself once or twice. Cover loosely with plastic wrap and let rest about 15 minutes.

3. Using just enough flour to keep dough from sticking to work surface or to your fingers, gently and quickly shape dough into a ball. Generously coat a cotton towel (not terry cloth) with flour, wheat bran or cornmeal; put dough seam side down on towel and dust with more flour, bran or cornmeal. Cover with another cotton towel and let rise for about 2 hours. When it is ready, dough will be more than double in size and will not readily spring back when poked with a finger.

4. At least a half-hour before dough is ready, heat oven to 450 degrees. Put a 6- to 8-quart heavy covered pot (cast iron, enamel, Pyrex or ceramic) in oven as it heats. When dough is ready, carefully remove pot from oven. Slide your hand under towel and turn dough over into pot, seam side up; it may look like a mess, but that is O.K. Shake pan once or twice if dough is unevenly distributed; it will straighten out as it bakes. Cover with lid and bake 30 minutes, then remove lid and bake another 15 to 30 minutes, until loaf is beautifully browned. Cool on a rack.

Yield: One 1½-pound loaf.



Slow-braised short ribs from Sunday Suppers at Lucques, via Smitten Kitchen.

Serves 4 (generously) to 6

6 beef short ribs, about 14 to 16 ounces each (ask for 3 bone center-cut)

1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon thyme leaves, and 4 whole sprigs thyme

1 tablespoon freshly cracked black pepper

1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil

1 cup diced onion

1/3 cup diced carrot

1/3 cup diced celery

2 bay leaves

2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar

1 1/2 cups port

2 1/2 cups hearty red wine

6 cups beef or veal stock

4 sprigs flat-leaf parsley

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Horseradish Cream (recipe follows)

Potato Purée/Mashed Potatoes (recipe follows)

Season the short ribs with 1 tablespoon thyme and the cracked black pepper. use your hands to coat the meat well. Cover, and refrigerate overnight.

Take the short ribs out of the refrigerator an hour before cooking, to come to room temperature. After 30 minutes, season them generously on all sides with salt.

When you take the ribs out of the refrigerator, preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Heat a large Dutch oven [or a large saute pan, if you would like to use a separate braising dish; I aimed to use fewer dishes] over high heat for 3 minutes. Pour in 3 tablespoons olive oil, and wait a minute or two, until the pan is very hot and almost smoking. Place the short ribs in the pan, and sear until they are nicely browned on all three meaty sides. Depending on the size of your pan, you might have to sear the meat in batches. Do not crowd the meat or get lazy or rushed at this step; it will take at least 15 minutes. [I find this takes closer to 45 minutes if you're really thorough. Be thorough!] When the ribs are nicely browned, transfer them to a plate to rest.

Turn the heat down to medium, and add the onion, carrot, celery, thyme springs, and bay leaves. Stir with a wooden spoon, scraping up all the crusty bits in the pan. Cook 6 to 8 minutes, until the vegetables just begin to caramelize. Add the balsamic vinegar, port, and red wine. Turn the heat up to high, and reduce the liquid by half.

Add the stock and bring to a boil. Arrange ribs in the pot, lying flat, bones facing up, in one layer. [If you used a saute pan for previous steps, transfer the ribs to a braising pan at this point.] Scrape any vegetables that have fallen on the ribs back into the liquid. The stock mixture should almost cover the ribs. Tuck the parsley sprigs in and around the meat. Cover tightly with aluminum foil and a tight-fitting lid if you have one. Braise in the oven for about 3 hours.

To check the meat for doneness, remove the lid and foil, being careful of the escaping steam, and piece a short rib with a paring knife. When the meat is done, it will yield easily to a knife. Taste a piece if you are not sure. [If you would like to cook these a day ahead, this is where you can pause. The next day, you can remove the fat easily from the pot -- it will have solidified at the top -- bring these back to a simmer on the stove or in an oven, and continue.]

Let the ribs rest 10 minutes in their juices, and then transfer them to a baking sheet.

Turn the oven up to 400 degrees F.

Place the short ribs in the oven for 10 to 15 minutes to brown.

Strain the broth into a saucepan, pressing down on the vegetables with a ladle to extract all the juices. Skim the fat from the sauce (if you made these the day before, you will have already skimmed them) and, if the broth seems thin, reduce it over medium-high heat to thicken slightly. Taste for seasoning.

Horseradish Cream

3/4 cup créme fraîche

1 tablespoon prepared horseradish

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Combine the créme fraîche and horseradish in a small bowl. Season with 1/4 teaspoon salt and pepper. Taste for balance and seasoning.

Mashed Potatoes

Cook's Illustrated's Master Recipe

2 pounds potatoes, scrubbed (I used Yukon Golds)

8 tablespoons unsalted butter (1 stick, 4 ounces), melted

1 cup half-and-half , warmed

1 1/2 teaspoons table salt

Ground black pepper

Chives for garnish (optional)

1. Place potatoes in large saucepan and cover with 1 inch water. Bring to boil over high heat; reduce heat to medium-low and simmer until potatoes are tender (a paring knife can be slipped into and out of center of potatoes with very little resistance), 20 to 30 minutes. Drain.

2. Set food mill or ricer over now empty but still warm saucepan. Spear potato with dinner fork, then peel back skin with paring knife. Repeat with remaining potatoes. Working in batches, cut peeled potatoes into rough chunks and drop into hopper of food mill or ricer. Process or rice potatoes into saucepan.

3. Stir in butter with wooden spoon until incorporated; gently whisk in half-and-half, salt, and pepper to taste. Serve immediately.

Balsamic Braised Brussels with Pancetta

Adapted from Sunday Suppers at Lucques, by Smitten Kitchen.

Serves 6 to 8 as a side

1 1/2 cups fresh bread crumbs (though I found I needed far less)

2 teaspoons thyme leaves

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil plus an extra glug or two for drizzling

4 tablespoons unsalted butter

2 pounds medium-sized brussels sprouts, washed and trimmed

Salt and pepper

6 ounces pancetta in small dice (1 1/2 cups)

3 tablespoons minced shallots

1 tablespoon minced garlic

1/2 cup balsamic vinegar

1 1/2 cups veal stock, rich chicken or vegetable broth, more if needed

2 tablespoons chopped parsley

Heat oven to 350 degrees. In a bowl, mix bread crumbs and thyme with a couple glugs of olive oil, and spread on a cookie sheet. Toast, tossing frequently, until golden brown, 10 to 12 minutes.

Heat butter and remaining olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat until foamy. Add brussels sprouts, sprinkle with salt and pepper, and sauté, tossing frequently, until lightly browned, about 7 to 10 minutes. Add diced pancetta, and sauté, tossing frequently, until sprouts are well browned and softened slightly, and pancetta is crisp, about 10 to 15 minutes more. Reduce heat, add shallots and garlic, and sauté until fragrant, 2 minutes.

Increase heat to high, add balsamic vinegar and stock, and cook, tossing frequently, until sprouts are glazed and tender, about 20 minutes; add more stock if needed. Taste, adjusting seasoning if necessary, and sprinkle with chopped parsley. Transfer to a warm serving bowl and scatter bread crumbs on top.

Ginger Ice Cream

Ingredients

* 3 cups heavy cream

* 1 cup whole milk

* 1/4 cup grated fresh ginger

* 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

* 1/4 cup finely chopped crystallised ginger, more if, like me, you love it!

* Pinch salt

* 8 egg yolks

* 3/4 cup sugar

Directions

In a large, heavy saucepan, combine the cream, milk, ginger, and salt over medium heat and simmer for 20 minutes.

Whisk the egg yolks and sugar together until pale, pale gold and fluffy. Ladle one ladleful of the hot cream mixture into eggs, combine, then add all eggs into hot cream mixture. Stir constantly for around five minutes until the custard mixture is thick enough to coat the back of a spoon.

Strain over a fine meshed sieve into a large bowl, pressing with the back of the spoon to extract as much liquid as you can. Cover tightly and refrigerate until cold - at least three hours.

Add the crystallised ginger to the cold cream mixture, then pour into the bowl of an ice cream maker, and freeze according to manufacturer's instructions. Transfer the ice cream to an airtight container and freeze until ready to eat.

G'night John Boy

Earlier this week I found myself at the 80th anniversary gala for our local theater, the Westport Country Playhouse. It was the glittering affair you would expect, with a reception in the garden that had been turned, temporarily, into the coolest of clubs. We were celebrating the work of composer Stephen Schwartz, the man behind Pippin, Wicked, a number of other plays and Disney musicals, and I have not been able to stop singing songs from Wicked since.

When we moved in to the theater to...

Lemon Tartlets

Lemon tartlets



Pre-heat oven to 350.

Blend box of ginger snaps with stick of butter until crushed and fine. Press into small greased tart tins with removable bases.

Delia's filling:

1 jar lemon curd (you could make your own, but really, who has the time?)

zest and juice of one large lemon

1 egg, beaten

2 tablespoons half-fat creme fraiche.

Mix filling together. DON'T FORGET THE EGG. Pour into cases. Bake for 20/25 minutes

Jane's alternative filling, which can be used either as topping, or on...

Moroccan chicken with tomatoes and saffron-honey jam (serves 4)

Moroccan chicken with tomatoes and saffron-honey jam (serves 4)

8 pieces of jointed chicken
seasoning
olive oil
1 large onion, roughly chopped
3 crushed garlic cloves
2 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1 3/4 lbs diced tomatoes (I used canned)
1 cup chicken stock
1/2 teaspoon saffron threads
5 tablespoons honey
1 teaspoon orange flower water (I order mine online, but you could substitute orange juice)
handful of toasted flaked almonds
small bunch of cilantro, roughly chopped.

Season ...

Stuffed Figs Dipped in Chocolate

Stuffed figs dipped in chocolate

20 figs

whole almonds

marzipan

dark chocolate

Make small knife slits to form a cross in the base of the fig. Fill with pea-sized ball of marzipan and whole almond.

Melt chocolate (supposed to be in a bain-marie but I always do it, very slowly, in the microwave), and dip entire fig in chocolate.

Put on wax paper and leave to set in fridge.