Hidden gems

The half term holidays are over and Noah and Maya have been pressed, polished and painted and sent back to school looking less like stig-of-the-dump and more like human children. Quite an achievement, I think.We spent the week in less of a rush than usual, a nice change to the routine and lovely to have the little blighters around more. Tuesday found us bowling. I'm sure it wasn't as obscenely expensive when I was a teenager, trying to look cool in my huge '80s clothes. Maybe it's me, or maybe every activity these days is genuinely out to fleece you for as much as possible. A child in the queue ahead of us had just vomited on the floor by the ticket desk. Whether or not that was excitement, overindulgence, or shock at the cost I'm not sure. The noise, wild-eyed children and flashing lights made me feel like doing the same.And then, 'Kidzania' at Westfield. A theme park where the children can pretend to do adult stuff and come to terms with the pointlessness of life. I think they enjoyed being window cleaners, surgeons, pilots, chocolatiers and chamber maids (Note to self: the last two sounds like a Mills and Boon novel. Possible book pitch?) They are now well prepared for working hard for almost no reward and then being ripped-off in the shops afterwards.The nicest things we did were the most wholesome (and free...). Pumpkin carving in a garden in Dalston, pumpkin carving at home, staying up late to watch Strictly with a big pile of homemade tacos to assemble yourself (spicy chicken, 'rockamoley' as Maya calls it, cajun spiced yoghurt, tomatoes, coriander and grated cheese) and eat on a rug on the floor.We've eaten quite a lot this week, having them around every day. The children helped me make a kind of brioche, poking chocolate buttons into the middle of each dough ball before dusting the top with Danish sugar crystals and chocolate flakes. We made chocolate brownies together too, sticky, gooey, dark and rich – they disappeared in a flash.One evening for supper I unleashed the Monte cristo sandwich on them. Fresh, homemade sourdough slathered in  butter and filled with cheese and ham and then fried on the griddle pan. They went in a flash too, I served them with a pile of tarragon and garlic green beans on the side trying to be a little healthy. I had to bribe the children to eat those.Noah's little eyes lit up when I asked him if he'd like a roast chicken on Sunday. I covered it with Parma ham, stuffed it with lemon, garlic and rosemary and served it with red peppers and turmeric roasted potatoes that came out a deep gold, crisp all over, fluffy and light in the middle. We followed this with a rhubarb and apple crumble – the children even helped peel the apples, Bramleys bigger than their little hands could hold. I had to finish the job for them the slackers – it was a perfect Sunday lunch.Midweek, Bee and I ate more chicken, this time with asparagus grilled in Parma ham (I see a theme here) and cooked with mirepoix, haricots, pearl barley, thyme, stock and lemon zest and juice. It was hearty and slightly celebratory feeling for a Wednesday. And on Saturday lunch we had today's recipe: sausages, firm gem squash like hand grenades, cooked to melting softness, chorizo cubes and more haricots. A one pot meal perfect to help you against the cold crisp days now the clocks have gone back and it's dark just after breakfast. All Autumnal and very, very cosy.Ingredients6 nice sausages, a little herby perhaps, but not too muchA tin of haricot beans, drained and rinsedAbout 15cm chorizo, cubedA sprig of rosemary4 banana shallots, peeled and finely sliced4 garlic cloves2 gem squash, quartered300ml water or chicken stockA scattering of pumpkin seedsSalt and pepper to seasonOlive oilMethodHeat the oven to gas 8 or about 190c. Nice and hot, anyway.Brown the sausages in a frying pan with a little oil then add the shallots, garlic and rosemary.Transfer this to a roasting dish and add the remaining ingredients. Mix about a bit and drizzle with some olive oil then season well.Cook in the oven for about 45 minutes, until the squash is soft.Serve with the juices poured over.This week:Read: Still bloody reading Middlemarch. Looks like it will be the middle of March before I finish it.Ate: Fruit kebabs made by the children and each one had a marshmallow in the middle. Delicious. They hate marshmallows it turns out, so I got the lot.Watched: Crawling our way through Fargo series three and the recent Cold Feet. Both are a bit of a struggle to maintain enthusiasm with. Bee's given up on Fargo. It's been early night's and book reading a lot recently, that's how we roll these days.Listened: 'Here's the thing'. Alec Baldwin interviewing Michael Pollan for his podcast.

Figment of the imagination

The sky was yellow, a Saharan dust covering London. A strange light and a weak red sun poking through. Perhaps this was a new and rather full-on marketing push for the new Bladerunner film, or maybe we are hurtling toward apocalypse now. I met a friend for supper that evening and the gloom meant we all scuttled indoors a little quicker than usual. We eat steak tartare, prepared tableside by a crisp black and white linen-ed and desiccated waiter then hurried back to our homes.Summer is now well on it's way to the other side of the world and autumn has properly pulled the duvet over us. Soon, the woolly hats and gloves will be on and we can be justified in not leaving the house until March.It's a strange feeling, the desire to go to bed at six in the evening and the sure mistake of the alarm going off at what seems like the middle of the night. The clocks will soon change, giving us a little more light in the early morning for about a week before we sink ankle deep into winter. I hope the farmers are grateful as we all finish our afternoons with night vision goggles on, stepping over the bodies of run-over school children.There are still some green leaves clinging desperately onto the branches of the tree today as I look outside the sitting room window. Most of the other branches around are bare and I swear I just saw a pigeon with a scarf on. But as civilisation comes to an end around us and turnips are the only thing that will still grow, I still insist on serving a green salad at almost every meal. The children have a bowl of it tossed with mustardy vinaigrette to eat before I give them their supper. We don't live in an American restaurant, it just keeps them quiet for a bit and they wolf it down. I should stop wearing a frilly apron and serving them bottomless mugs of coffee though.This week saw me grate half a clove of garlic into my usual dressing. This is what is passing for excitement in our house at the moment. We are all pretty tired now, and half term hasn't come soon enough. The children need a rest and we are grateful for the change of pace it brings. Although we now find ourselves, with unbelievable inconvenience, having to feed them three meals a day plus occasional snacks and seek out entertainment.This Sunday morning though, the children let us sleep until quarter to nine before waking us up to complain of hunger. They then retired to their room to tidy their drawers for two hours, as if possessed by Mary Poppins. Ours was not to reason why, so I read the paper alone in peace while Bee read her book in bed drinking tea. Unsettling.But by the time evenings come around and the children are in bed, supper sometimes seems a huge effort. It's more often than not something I can throw into one pan and leave to do it's thing, such as the hearty haricot and chorizo stew we had early in the week. or a tray of chipped sweet potato, sprinkled liberally with garam masala and chilli flakes, roasted in the oven with a couple of bream, olive oil, fat garlic cloves and cherry tomatoes that had started to explode in the heat.One night, I found a bag of figs, now perfectly ripe (one overly so and destined for the bin), some very ripe Rocamadour goat's cheese that you could smell from France and some slices of a sourdough loaf. A little honey, olive oil, salt and pepper and a pinch of fresh parsley was enough to satisfy the evening hunger. Simple, good ingredients made something far more than the some of their parts and figs, well they are practically the flavour of Christmas aren't they?This week:Watched: Finally getting around to Fargo season three. Perfectly wintery, and the Minnesota accent is so great.Read: Still reading Middlemarch. And I fear I shall be for some time yet. Lincoln in the Bardo sits on my bedside table and the pile of books I want to read is growing longer than there are years left to read them.Listened to: The Omen on Radio 4 iPlayer. A perfect example of an epic child's tantrum.Eat: Steak Tartare in 1980s Toremolinos, or rather La Barca, Lower Marsh. Methi chicken at Lahore Karahi in Tooting. Pakistani canteen food better than most, quick, friendly and a great place to top up the spice levels. They promise a "genuine spicy taste", so you'd hope they deliver. And they do.

Sea bass, celeriac rémoulade

Two weeks into September and I think we are just about surfacing from the shock of returning to real life after a leisurely August with the children attached to our legs 24 hours a day.While it's great they are back at school with their pals, the Stockholm syndrome we've developed for our captors has left the days quieter and although we are back full steam with work, I miss having them around all the time.Still, it will be half term before we know it, then Christmas, then the summer holidays again, then all of a sudden they will have graduated from University. (Assuming of course we somehow manage to find a million dollars in a jacket pocket to pay for it).But the end of summer brings my favourite season, and while I look happily toward autumn, it has this year somehow managed to bring a fruit fly colony into the house. I suppose this is what happens if you go away having forgot to empty the bin before going away for the week, but honestly, it's ridiculous. It may be necessary to knock the whole place down and rebuild. I honestly don't know where they keep on coming from. Roll on the cold, with hope that'll do for them.I'm also now two weeks into a no carb and no sugar month. And while dutifully making the family a weekly sourdough and other loaves, filling the Saturdays with the smell of freshly baking bread, I'm coping well. The sugar part seems remarkably easy for some reason, but I do really miss the bread. And I'm not counting the bowl of pasta I had at the River Cafe. I mean, you can't go there and not have a pasta dish, but it has to be worth it as an exception, and that was most definitely worth it.So by the end of September, hopefully feeling a little lighter around the middle I will be looking forward to tucking in to a fresh crusty loaf straight from the oven. In the meantime, pearl barley and chickpeas are filling in place of rice and pasta (gram flour flatbreads are excellent with dhal).Last night's supper was this incredibly quick and simple fish with celeriac rémoulade. A fresh and flavoursome dish that just feels summery enough to complement the fading evening light but with the earthy celeriac nodding a quick acknowledgement at the gold autumn knock tapping at the window. And the fish only takes four minutes to cook, which I'm pretty sure makes this even less work than a quick bowl of pasta on a frazzled Wednesday evening.Ingredients for two2 seabass fillets, scored lightly on the skin1tsp turmeric powder1tsp seaweed flakes (such as these)A pinch of herb salt (or Maldon salt if you haven't any)1/2 small celeriac, peeled and cut into matchsticks, preferably on a mandoline, but you could grate them or spend half an hour finely slicing it if you are a masochist.3tbsp mayonnaise, homemade the usual way preferable, but if not Delouis is a good one2tbsp Dijon mustard1 red chilli, slicedJapanese pepper to season (I like this for its slightly lemony flavour. You can buy it online here)Maldon salt (or similar) to seasonJuice of half a lemon1tbsp yuzu juice (optional)1tsp tarragon vinegar (Make your own by sticking sprigs in a bottle of cider vinegar)1tbsp chopped fresh tarragon1tbsp chopped young thyme leavesA handful of pancetta, cooked in a frying pan until crisp, keep the rendered fat in the pan for cooking the fishA little fresh parsley to finishMethodMix together the rémoulade ingredients and leave to sit for half an hour. Don't make it too far ahead or it will be soggy and claggy like a mouthful of wet paper.Heat the pan you cooked the bacon in until nice and hot but not smoking. Season the fish all over with the turmeric, seaweed and salt then gently lay them into the pan skin-side down so they crackle and spit. Leave for a couple of minutes until the skin is golden and crisp then gently flip them over and turn the heat off.Leave to cook in the pan for another minute or two while you put the remoulade onto plates.Top with the fish and serve straight away with a sprinkle of parsley and a sharply dressed butterhead salad.This week:Watched: Arena - 'Death on the Staircase' on BBC iPlayer. Amazing documentary about a man on trial for the murder of his wife. Gripping. Also started series two of 'Top of the Lake' which you have to say in an Irish accent.Saw: Giacometti at Tate Modern. Or "those thin spindly people?" as Bee asked. Great to see so much of it all in the same rooms. Even if they all do look the same and his paintings all look like he's in charge of passport photography. Also, the Rothko room. I remember, back in the mists of time when I was an Art student being able to sit in that room, then at the original Tate gallery, alone and in silence. This time it was packed; a disappointment. I think they are best seen on your own.Read: Finished 'Tale of Two cities. God that was boring. Started 'Death in the Olive Grove' an Italian crime novel set in the '60s, excellent, well written with full characters and a welcome relief from the sludge that was Dickens.Ate: River Café. Faultless, if eye-wateringly expensive. Chit Chaat Chai, fun and bustling Indian street food in a restaurant.  ('Railway' curry, pani puri, okra fries, daal, chilli wings)Drank: White Darjeeling snowbud from Vahdam company. Delicate and rather calming.Listened: The Allman Brothers, 'In Memory of Elizabeth Reed'. The War on Drugs 'Lost in the Dream', The Doors 'The Crystal Ship'.

Simple Pleasures

Garlic grilled lobster, 24 hour slow-roast pork, smoked salmon scrambled eggs, roast chicken. The list of snacks the children are asking me for each evening they get back from after school club is becoming a joke. And now, they are demanding I just whip them up a tarte Tatin.*They already have a strong attachment to certain dishes, and as they grow up these meals will be remembered and recreated with, I hope, the same comforting happiness I attach to my childhood meals from my mum and grandparents. Most people love their mum's roast chicken, or their Granny's apple crumble. Although in my case I've developed a love for frozen chocolate gateaux wafted with the aroma of Player's Navy Cut cigarettes. It's a funny thing, nostalgia.I don't think they will talk fondly of Daddy's lark's wing soufflé with basil foam, compressed finger lime and watermelon (Nb.) but will probably look fondly on the roasts, bolognese, crumbles, 'taco day', korma with fluffy rice and soothing dhal and the simple home cooking we all crave as adults.The classics are classic for a reason. And generally survive because of their simplicity. That doesn't necessarily mean they're all completely easy to make. A beurre blanc or Hollandaise can easily split, a risotto can become as thick and stodgy as Donald Trump and a salmon steak can be as tough as a shoe if you don't pay attention. But the pleasure these simple dishes give is as joyful as a walk on a misty autumn morning or reading a book by the fire on a cold night.And so to the tarte Tatin. Or, if you prefer, the tarte Solognote. Traditionally made with apples it's the French comfort food par excellence. I also love making it with pears, but may cast my net as wide as mirabelle plums, apricots and even banana for a laugh. It also works brilliantly with shallots for a savoury version. Make sure you use a good pan that is suitable for the hob and oven. I use the incomparable prospector pan from Netherton Foundry, a thing of great beauty.This time, I made my own puff pastry from scratch. It's a wonderful thing to do and the difference is sublime. It's very easy, really, it just takes a little time so do it on a weekend, make plenty and freeze it. I'm not going to give a recipe here for it, but be prepared to use  a whole block of butter. You'll also need a dedicated spot in the kitchen, it needs rolling, folding and chilling about seven times.Failing that, buy some all butter ready-made puff pastry. You can't be as smug, but it will still give a very good result. I used a mix of Bramley and Braeburn apples this time, but fully Braeburned is usually how I roll. I also sprinkled a little thyme into the mix but that's up to you. Whatever you choose to do, this is a dish of most excellent comfort.Ingredients1 Braeburn apple, peeled, cored and cut into wedges3 Bramley apples, as aboveA good handful or two of unrefined golden caster sugarA splodge of butterEnough rolled out puff pastry to cover the top of the pan with an overhang to tuck inA pinch of thyme if you likeMethodGet the oven nice and hot. About gas mark 8 or 220c.Heat the sugar in the pan until it melts and starts to turn to a soft caramel. Add the butter and neatly layer in the apples. Cook for a minute or two then add the thyme if using and layer the pastry over the top, tucking it in around the apples edges.Transfer to the oven and cook for about twenty minutes, until the pastry is risen and golden.Remove from the oven and carefully turn upside down onto a plate. Leave for a minute before removing the pan and serve hot or warm. Or eat it cold from the fridge just before bed when no-one's looking.*Not true. They normally ask for a yoghurt or banana or the occasional biscuit. We haven't raised Veruca Salt and her brother here.

Ooh, The Cheek Of It.

The slow change from vivid green to red, yellow, orange. And then how quickly the trees become bare and the glorious colours give way to brown and grey sludgy streets.In the seemingly few hours of daylight we have over the winter months we celebrate the warmth of the fireside. Scarves, gloves, hats and thick woolen jumpers wrapped around us keep us cosy when we venture outside, often leaving and returning home in the dark.I welcome the smells from the slow cooker more than any dog's wagging tail as a greeting. And here we are, only at the gentle tip of the cold months, yet it feels like it's the time for stews. Meat falling from bones into rich and thick broths, individual flavours combining like the instruments in an orchestra to create one symphony.A cast-iron pan with a lid in a very low oven does just as well as a slow cooker, and if you're happy leaving the oven on all day it's the perfect way to cook. However, you may not fancy chopping and browning chunks of meat while drinking your morning coffee and wondering why you have to ask the children twenty times to put a sock on. I have neither the time nor inclination, getting out of a warm bed is tragedy enough. In which case these are best done the night before, or on a weekend when you have a more leisurely start to the day.Of course white potatoes work just as well as the purple ones, which may be a little tricky to find; crushed Anyas would be a real treat. Whatever you use, nothing quite beats the deliciousness of all those juices soaked up by the buttery potatoes. This really is one of those meals that feels like you're back home in the warmth of the family.Tarragon adds a little last of the summer sparkle to the flavours, hinting with its warm aniseed at the comfort to come. If you don't have any, a good handful of chopped parsley running through would be just as nice.Ingredients500g ox cheek, cut into chunks1 onion, roughly choppedA thumb of ginger, chopped1tbsp oregano1tbsp flour1/2 a bulb of garlic1 red pepper, chopped2tbsp tomato purée500ml beef stockLarge pinch of dried mushroomsSalt and pepperPotatoes to serve, cooked and crushed with butter, spring onion and some shredded tarragon.MethodHeat a heavy sauté pan with some oil and sear the beef well until browned. Try not to smoke out the kitchen and set of the smoke alarms in a panicked succession as I did. And sear the meat in batches to avoid boiling rather than caramelising it.Add the flour and stir well, coating all the meat. This will help thicken the sauce. Add to the slow cooker or casserole. Deglaze the sauté pan with a little water or wine and add the juices along with the remaining ingredients.Cook on high for four hours or low for eight hours in the slow cooker, or eight hours in a very low oven. (140c. Gas mark 1) Serve with the potatoes and perhaps some broccoli or garlic green beans.

Lamb Shanks with Spaghetti Squash

Last night the oven caught fire. I'd only popped out for a while and left Bee a lasagne to heat for supper. We've had it for about 13 years, and it has seen two replacement heating elements and a couple of glass doors which shattered for no obvious reason. It also has always sounded like a derailing freight-train since we bought it, so perhaps it's time for a new one.The central heating part of the boiler, which now is being called into service after it's summer holiday has decided it also has had enough. Even that has had so many parts replaced I'm not sure if it's the same boiler we started with.And finally, to complete the trinity, the brakes on Bee's car failed as well. It's been a good week for the repair industry.Back in the kitchen, all is not lost without an oven. I'm baking bread in my neighbour, Russel's one, which has its own peculiarities. It's rather like the peasant taking his loaf to the village bakery to be cooked. I can't, however, impose full roasting usage upon him every evening.  So it's pots and pan cookery for the immediate future.Fortunately, the season is perfect for slow cooking. A strong, heavy deep pot, preferably cast iron and with a lid is a kitchen essential. You can make meals with just one burner and fill up on hearty and healthy food.I'm buy our meat from Heal Farm in Devon and the quality is amazing. Knowing where it comes from and being able to speak directly to the farmers is a privilege. It's not much more expensive than the supermarkets and the little extra it costs is, in my opinion a price worth paying for the quality and care.These lamb shanks were so rich and flavoursome. A proper autumn meal, and very easy to cook using one pan. Fortunately, I roast the squash earlier in the day so it only required a quick warming through. You, with your fancy, functioning oven should be fine to cook it as normal. If you can't find spaghetti squash, swap it for pumpkin or sweet potato mash with thyme and almonds.This is a rich and meaty meal. A proper dish if you've just been out hewing logs or something. And one that, after a few minutes preparation, pretty much cooks itself. It's also perfect for the slow cooker if you have one. Eight hours on low should do it.Ingredients for two2 lamb shanksOlive oil1 tin of chopped tomatoes1 bulb of garlic, halved equatorially1 large red chilliA pinch of cumin seedsOne spaghetti squashA pinch of fresh thymeA small handful of toasted almond flakesSalt and pepper to seasonMethodSeason the lamb shanks with salt and pepper then brown them all over in a little oil in a very hot pan.Deglaze the pan with about a mug-full of water and add the lamb and liquid to a heavy, lidded casserole dish.Add all the remaining ingredients and cook for about two and a half hours on a low flame. It's even better if you cook this the day before you need it. It tastes just a little more rounded after a good rest.For the spaghetti squash, roast it for one hour in the oven at about 180c. Leave it to cool a little, so it doesn't steam your face off when you cut into it. Scoop out all the flesh. Sprinkle over some thyme and almond flakes and a little seasoning and serve with the lamb and sauce.

Lamb and Rosemary Stuffed Squash

The evening light fades so quickly in September. It feels like only last week that the sun was setting late after nine o'clock and our nights were short with dawn flooding the bedroom around four.Now, it seems barely seven and candles are being lit and quilts thrown on the sofa. But for me, this is a time of great happiness. It's hygge time. Time to get roasting, stuffing and braising. There still will be salad on our table most nights though, no one comes between me and lettuce. Not even nature.I found these beautiful gem squash, fitting their name perfectly, at Crystal Palace Food Market on the weekend, among other great fruits of the season. A giant spaghetti squash, heavy as a medicine ball,  striped yellow and green courgettes, firm and skinny, ready for dicing and sautéing quickly with some garlic and olive oil. There were thick, short cucumbers, perfect for a salad, tasty and thick skinned unlike the watery green sticks of the supermarket.The colours of the season are reflected in the stalls. The oranges, browns and deep greens mirror the leaves on and off the trees. Black kale, red chard stalks and the inky purple of beetroot look like a Spanish still life and those evenings, warm inside against the soon to be here misty, haunted nights seem to be a comforting pleasure against the dark.I stuffed the squash with cubes of lamb chop. Cook the lamb first to render the fat and give some colour to the meat. Then let it cool a little and shred it from the bone. And if you don't have mushroom ketchup, use Worcestershire sauce. Be sure to have a gentle hand with the seasoning, those bottles pack a punch, and if you want chilli heat rather than warmth, add another chilli, or a sprinkle of chilli flakes.Ingredients6 gem squash, tops cut off and seeds scooped out6 smallish lamb chops1/2 a red onion, finely diced1 fat clove of garlic, finely sliced2 sprigs-worth of rosemary leaves, well chopped2tbsp pearl barley (I used toasted barley for extra nutiness)2tbsp mushroom ketchup1 red chilli, choppedA small handful of hazelnuts, choppedMethodHeat the oven to high and prepare the filling.Sear the chops all over and add the onion, garlic and chilli to the pan. Turn the heat down and continue cooking until the onion is soft and translucent.Add the barley and rosemary and a fairly large splash of water. Let that reduce away for a few minutes then add the mushroom ketchup.Remove the lamb, let it cool a little so you can then take the meat from the bones and finely chop it.Mix back into the pan and stuff each squash to the top. Sprinkle over the nuts and put the lids back on.Roast in the oven for 35-40 minutes, until the squash are soft.Serve straight from the dish.